#love this event i love everything about it

[aesthetically-dying101]

Letters to the past

A/N: in which they find a love letter that you wrote to them years ago. (im tempted to write a version of this of pure angst, where reader is dead and they find the letter later, but for now im being nice), inspired by real world events!

warnings: light angst (with a happy ending), suggestive, crack, shits n gigs

Characters: Nanami, Toji, Gojo, Geto, Sukuna, Choso, Shiu, Higuruma. (in that order)

Nanami was quietly tidying up the shared office, something he did on his very rare off days, he was organizing a particular stack of papers on his side of the desk when his hand brushed against something unfamiliar—something soft, wrapped in a ribbon. Curiosity piqued, he pulled it out—an envelope with his name scrawled in your handwriting. The paper was a little yellowed with age, the ink slightly faded, but the love was still so palpable.

He carefully opened it, unsure of what he was about to read. What he found inside was... a letter. A love letter. From you.

He chuckled softly, his heart squeezing in his chest. The date at the top: “One Year Together”.

The paper was dotted with sketches—little doodles of him—and he couldn’t help but smile, his heart swelling in his chest.

A light chuckle escaped his lips.

“I can’t believe this… you drew me like that? I was such a dork…”

Nanami's chest tightened.

Seven years. It had been seven years since you two had been together, and four years of marriage. Time had flown, but reading the words from that first year? From when everything had felt so new and exciting? It was... overwhelming. And there were even little doodles of him scattered throughout the pages, goofy sketches of his serious face, his messy hair, and him in his work clothes.

It was... perfect.

“Oh my god,” he whispered to himself, eyes scanning over the words. “I can’t believe you wrote this…”

You had always been dramatic when it came to love, but that had been one of the things he adored most about you. Your passion, your sincerity, and how every little detail felt like it had meaning.

Just as he was wiping a happy tear from his eye, he heard the door open.

“Hey, Kento!” you called out, your voice bright and bubbly from a long day of teaching. But when you walked in and saw him standing there, holding the letter, your face immediately fell.

“Wha—” you began to sputter, running over and snatching it out of his hand. “No! Oh my god, why do you have that?!” You were practically in full dramatic panic mode, hands shaking slightly as you tried to hide the letter behind your back.

Nanami couldn’t help but laugh, amused at how flustered you were. “I just found this,” he said, his voice full of affection. “I didn’t realize you were such a poet. And these drawings—” he gestured to the little doodles of him— “they’re... adorable.”

“Oh, please,” you groaned, your face flushing. “Stop it! Don’t even read it out loud. It’s so embarrassing! I was like—what—21? It was a year in! I was still figuring out how to not be awkward!”

Nanami grinned, leaning in slightly, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “I think it’s perfect. You were so honest, so sweet. And the drawings—” his voice softened, “they're so cute.”

You crossed your arms, pouting. “Kento, nooooo, don’t you dare! I can’t believe you found that. You’re gonna be all ‘oh, look, look at my cute, romantic wife’ for the next week, huh? God, stop being so dramatic about it.”

“Is that really a problem?” he teased, giving you an amused glance. “I think it’s adorable. And I’m the lucky guy who gets to read it now.”

You dramatically slumped against the desk, covering your face in mock embarrassment. “I can’t with you. You’re making me so red. You can’t show anyone this, Kento. Not a single person.”

“Why?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, amused at your antics. “We’ve been together for seven years, married for four. You really think it’s embarrassing now?”

You peeked over your hands, your voice soft but still teasing. “Yes. Because it’s cheesy and gushy, and I’m just... ugh. So much poetry.”

“I happen to think that poetry is one of your many talents,” he said, voice gentle as he moved closer to you. “And you’ve always been perfectly you. I love you even more for it.”

You sighed dramatically, trying to hide your smile behind your hands. “Stop it, Kento. Stop looking at me like that. You’re gonna make me cry with how sweet you're being.”

Nanami chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry. But seriously. I’m glad I found this. You’ve always been so good to me.”

You melted into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his words settle into your heart. "You're so ridiculous," you whispered, pressing your face into his chest. "But I love you."

He kissed the top of your head, chuckling softly. “I love you, too. Always.”

And as the two of you stood there in the cozy office, holding each other close, Nanami couldn’t help but feel so incredibly lucky to have found you—his partner, his wife.

Toji was knee-deep in moving boxes, his muscles flexing as he grabbed yet another heavy one- he was glad you weren't home, or else you would've made a comment. The sound of cardboard scraping against the floor filled the room as he shifted it into place. It was one of those days where every corner of their house was chaotic, half-packed, and filled with the usual mess that came with moving.

But then something fell.

A soft sound, followed by paper crinkling, caught his attention. He raised an eyebrow and crouched down, picking up a stray piece of paper from the floor. The corners were worn, the edges curling slightly with age. He blinked when he realized what it was.

A letter.

Her handwriting.

Curiosity piqued, Toji slid off his old man glasses from the top of his head with an exaggerated flair, rolling them into place before he cracked open the letter.

And that’s when he saw it.

A love letter—one from you.

From the early days of your relationship, when things were still fresh and you were... completely infatuated with him (not that he ever let it go to his head or anything). Toji’s lips quirked into a devilish grin as he leaned back against the box, settling in for the show.

He read through the entire thing, each line making him chuckle louder and louder. The dramatic declarations, the overly poetic descriptions of his “dangerous” eyes, the flowery words about how he “was the center of her universe”… Oh, this was gold.

“Well well well,” Toji muttered, barely able to keep himself from busting into laughter. “Look at you, all sentimental, huh? Just how cute…”

He kicked his feet up, reclining on the nearest piece of furniture, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Gotta admit, babe. You were delusional back then."

You had just come home from a walk in the park with Megumi, trying to get some fresh air after the chaos of packing. Megumi was by your side, his small hand holding onto your sleeve, talking about something he saw at the park. You were listening, but the moment you stepped inside, you noticed Toji—sitting with that mischievous grin plastered on his face.

He was holding something in his hand. The letter.

No.

"Toji..." you groaned in embarrassment, already knowing what was coming. "What did you find?"

“Oh, just this little thing…” Toji drawled, waving the letter in the air, his grin practically splitting his face. “Look at this, sweetheart—look what I got.”

Your eyes widened, and you immediately lunged forward, making a grab for it.

“Toji! Give me that!”

But he was already one step ahead, holding it high above his head as he leaned back, savoring your reaction. “What’s the rush? I’m just having a little fun, doll. Let me enjoy it for a second.”

You groaned, your face turning an embarrassing shade of crimson. “No, please! That was years ago! It’s… so embarrassing!” You jumped up, trying to wrestle it out of his hands, but he was too strong.

“‘Toji, I adore you, you are the light of my life, my heart beats only for you…’” He read aloud dramatically, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he quoted your words. “‘Your smile is like the sun, and I am forever basking in your warmth.’ Oh, I’m dying here, baby. This is priceless.”

“I was naive back then!” you shouted, flipping him over your shoulder in a fit of frustration. “I was delusional! It was a different time!!”

“Delusional? Baby, you were love-struck,” Toji teased, completely unfazed by your attempts to wrestle the letter away. "I’m just surprised you actually thought I’d believe that sappy stuff back then.”

You both tumbled onto the couch in a mess of tangled limbs, but you didn’t stop. You were determined to get that letter back, even if it meant flipping Toji over—again. Your fingers scrambled for the piece of paper, but Toji’s laughter made everything feel lighthearted.

“You knew what you were saying,” he laughed, pinning your wrists down, still holding the letter just out of reach. “I didn’t even know I was such a heartthrob back then.”

“I swear to god, Toji…” You wriggled beneath him, doing your best to twist and turn, but it only resulted in you getting a little closer to him than you intended.

Toji’s face softened for a moment as he looked at you, his playful grin slowly fading into something far more intimate.

"You were adorable back then," he whispered, voice low. "I liked it. You’re lucky I never threw that letter away."

“You better not have,” you muttered, eyes meeting his. He was so close now, your breath mixing in the air between you.

His hand shifted from the letter, instead cupping your cheek, his lips pressing against yours in a deep, slow kiss. You melted into him, your hands wandering, sliding beneath his shirt as you tugged him closer.

You were so lost in the kiss, the heat building between you, that you barely noticed Megumi stepping through the door.

“Dad?” Megumi’s voice interrupted from the doorway, his little face peeking around the corner.

You both froze, wide-eyed, your hands still dangerously close to Toji’s waistband. Megumi blinked at you, looking oddly embarrassed for someone his age.

“I forgot my plushy at the park,” he said, face turning pink.

Toji groaned in exasperation, pulling away from you just enough to shoot you a look. “Guess that’s our cue, huh?”

You shot him a glare, but you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. “This isn’t over, Toji.”

“Yeah, yeah. Later,” he smirked, rolling off you and giving Megumi a playful pat on the head. "Let’s get your plushy then."

As you all prepared to head back to the park, you swore—next time, you’d get your revenge.

Gojo Satoru was hunched over your shared office desk, papers scattered in every direction as he sifted through stacks of documents. He was searching for a specific file on a curse, but knowing Gojo, he’d probably get distracted and misplace half of them before finding what he was actually looking for. Not that he’d admit it.

His fingers brushed against something odd tucked between two thick folders—an envelope. His eyes narrowed, curiosity piqued. It was a very familiar envelope, one with your handwriting all over it.

Wait… What the hell?

He blinked, disbelief settling over him. The letter was from you—a love letter. From when you were still dating, after just one year. You two had been together for eight years now, but this letter… it felt like a lifetime ago. He could feel his chest tighten as he carefully opened the envelope, the old, yellowed paper inside immediately making him grin like an idiot.

It was poetic. Deeply poetic. And so you. He could almost hear your voice reading it out loud, the words seeping into his bones. And the drawings—of him.

“Oh my god,” Gojo whispered under his breath, blinking rapidly as he read more. “This... this is way too much. Is this really what I was like back then?”

His hand shook a little, a laugh escaping him as his mind tried to wrap around the overwhelming wave of emotion that suddenly flooded him. He couldn’t help it.

The Strongest Sorcerer was about to cry over a letter.

When you walked into the office, the first thing you noticed was the unnatural stillness of the room. Gojo was sitting there—completely silent, holding the letter. His usual carefree demeanor was absent, replaced by something entirely different, something soft and vulnerable.

You froze in the doorway, your eyes widening in panic.

“Wait... is someone dead?” you asked, voice rising in pitch as you rushed toward him. You immediately looked around for any sign of trouble. “Is it Shoko? Is it Suguru??”

Gojo blinked slowly, slowly looking up at you. His expression was a mixture of awe and—wait, was that a tear?

“No. It’s just... this letter,” he said quietly, his voice uncharacteristically soft, the letter still clutched in his hand. He looked up at you, his eyes wide. “I had no idea you felt this way back then. You really loved me this much?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you immediately realized what was happening. The letter you’d written to him years ago—the one you’d completely forgotten about—was now in his hands, and he was reading it like a treasure.

You let out an exaggerated, pained groan. “Oh my god, noooooo.”

Gojo laughed softly, clearly taken aback. “What, you’re not proud of what you wrote?” he teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I mean, I was a pretty perfect boyfriend, right?”

“Nooooo, stop,” you whined, dramatically covering your face with your hands. “Why do you always have to find my most embarrassing moments? Why are you like this?”

He grinned wickedly. “Oh, I’m definitely reading you some lines. You need to hear how much you loved me, sweetheart.”

“Noooo,” you protested again, lunging toward him to snatch the letter. “Kento—I swear, if you read a single line out loud, I’ll—“

But he was already reading aloud, his voice dropping into that playful tone he always used when teasing you.

“‘Satoru, my heart beats for you,’” he started, dramatically pausing for effect. “‘You are the sunshine in my life, and I will always cherish the way your smile makes me feel as if the world is whole again.’”

Your eyes went wide, and you leaped forward to grab the letter. “Satoru! STOP!”

“‘I love you more than words can express,’” he read, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. “‘And I cannot wait for the day I call you mine forever.’”

“OH. MY. GOD,” you shouted, now fully flustered. Your skin felt on fire as you tried to wrestle the letter from his hands. “Stop, I was so dramatic back then! You have no idea—”

But Gojo just sat back, enjoying the chaos he’d caused. He raised an eyebrow. “Was you? It’s still pretty cute now. Look, this one’s my favorite—‘When I’m with you, time stands still. I am yours, and you are mine—forever.’”

You gasped, flailing helplessly. “I WILL END YOU, GOJO SATORU.”

Gojo just laughed, that deep, comforting sound filling the room as he shook his head. “You’re so cute when you’re all flustered.”

“SHUT UP!” you whined. “This is an absolute nightmare! I will literally kill the strongest sorcerer if I have to.”

“Oh?” Gojo’s grin turned devilish as he leaned forward, the mischievous glint in his eye more intense than ever. “Maybe I should let you make me suffer a little—since I’m so lucky to have you, right?”

You gave him a playful shove, and without thinking, your hand dipped down to his pants, feeling the subtle tension in his body at your touch.

“W-Wait—what are you—?”

“I said shut up,” you whispered, a teasing smirk spreading across your face as you leaned forward to kiss him, your hand sliding dangerously lower. Gojo’s breath hitched, his voice trembling as he muttered,

“UuUuUu... lemme repay you for your words...”

Geto Suguru leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly on the edge of his desk as his cult member, a young woman, hesitantly approached with a piece of paper.

"Master Geto," she began, her voice laced with uncertainty. "We found something... in the library. Between the books. It seems to be an old letter."

Geto arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "A letter? What kind of letter?"

The woman hesitated, but handed it over to him, and he noticed the familiar handwriting immediately. It was yours.

His heart skipped a beat as he unfolded the letter. The words on the page were undeniably yours, but what struck him was how genuine it felt—this love letter was full of sincerity, overflowing with affection that made his chest tighten in a way he hadn’t expected.

He chuckled softly to himself, his fingers gently tracing over the elegant script. The letter was written eight years ago, just after he and you had started dating. He could almost hear your voice, dramatic and poetic, as if he was reading it straight from your lips.

"Well, well, well," he muttered under his breath, a sly smile forming on his face. "Seems like my wife was really into me back then."

His cult member gave him a confused look but said nothing as he smirked and folded the letter neatly, tucking it into his jacket pocket.

When you arrived home, having finished your errands for the day, you immediately noticed Geto lounging on the couch, a strange glint in his eyes. He was holding something behind his back, clearly up to no good.

"What’s that?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you dropped your bag onto the nearby chair.

“Oh, nothing,” Geto said, his smile far too innocent. "Just something I found that I thought you might enjoy."

You crossed your arms, eyeing him suspiciously. "Is it a new cult ritual that involves me?"

He leaned forward, looking way too pleased with himself. “Better. It’s a blast from the past.”

Before you could react, he produced the letter from behind his back and waved it in front of your face. "Guess what I found in the library today?"

You froze. The moment you saw the familiar handwriting, your stomach dropped. No.

"Geto... no," you whispered, taking a step back as if the letter itself could bite. "Don't you dare."

“Oh, I dare,” he teased, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “It’s from you.”

You slowly turned your head to the side, trying to make a break for it. “Nope, I’m not doing this today. Not today, not ever.”

“You’re not going to want to miss this,” Geto said, clearly enjoying your discomfort. He unfolded the letter with all the drama of someone preparing to perform Shakespeare.

The words he read aloud were beautiful, so full of love and passion it almost made you cringe. You remembered writing it so vividly, a flood of emotions that you hadn’t even realized you still carried. And now, Geto was reading it out loud for all to hear.

"‘Suguru, my heart longs for you, and my soul finds peace in your presence,’” he began dramatically, putting on a voice as if he were a great actor. “‘Every moment with you is a blessing, every glance is an eternity...’”

“Geto, no!” You turned away, hands over your ears. "Please, don’t—"

He only chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “‘I’m yours, Suguru, and you are my everything…’” He paused, a smug grin spreading across his face. “‘I will love you always, now and forever.’”

You stopped in your tracks, your face burning with embarrassment. “Oh my god. Oh my god. You didn’t just—”

“I did,” he said, savoring every moment. “And to think, you thought I’d forgotten.” He waved the letter in the air like it was some kind of victory flag.

You exhaled dramatically, throwing your hands up in the air as you began to walk away. “I refuse to listen to this. I’m not doing this. This is ridiculous.”

“Oh, come on,” Geto called after you, trying to suppress his laughter. "You were so in love with me back then, and you still are, huh?”

You spun around, narrowing your eyes at him. “Geto, if you keep teasing me, I’m not making you dinner tonight.”

He tilted his head, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “You wouldn’t deny me that. You love me too much.”

You glared at him dramatically. "You’re lucky I’m even married to you, sir."

“Lucky?” he raised an eyebrow. “I think it’s the other way around.”

You crossed your arms, pretending to look offended. "I don’t know... I might reconsider after this little stunt."

He took a few steps forward, finally dropping the letter back in his pocket. His expression softened. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I just... didn’t realize how sweet you were back then. You still are.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes but secretly feeling your heart warm. “You know, I still don’t think you’re allowed to read my letters from eight years ago like that.”

“Why not?” he grinned. “It’s proof of how much you love me.”

You huffed, folding your arms tighter across your chest. “Ugh, you really are impossible.”

“Admit it,” he said, stepping closer to you. “You still love me that much.”

“Fine,” you muttered, trying not to smile. “Maybe I do...”

“Maybe?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning in close with that familiar cocky grin.

You rolled your eyes again, but this time, you couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips. “Okay, fine. I definitely do.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” He smirked, closing the distance and pulling you into his arms. “Now, let’s get you out of that mood. Dinner still stands, right?”

You groaned. “I swear, you’re impossible.”

“You love it,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “And I love you, too. Even more than this letter says.”

And despite your earlier protests, you couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelled with warmth and affection for the man who never failed to make you laugh, even when he was embarrassing you with old love letters.

Sukuna Ryomen, the fearsome King of Curses, sat in his grand chambers, his body draped across his throne, looking as if he could conquer empires with a single glance. His regal expression was unfazed as Uraume sorted through the countless scrolls piled around them. But then, a soft "Ah!" sounded from Uraume, and Sukuna’s sharp eyes flickered toward them.

“What?” Sukuna asked, his voice a low growl, barely masking his curiosity.

Uraume stood up straight, holding a scroll in their hands with an intrigued expression. “My Lord, I believe I’ve found something... interesting.” They unrolled the scroll, revealing the elegant, flowing handwriting.

Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Uraume cleared their throat and began reading aloud. “My dearest Sukuna, the one with the four arms, the eyes of a god...”

The words stopped Sukuna dead in his tracks. His eyes narrowed, and a small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “This... is from her, isn’t it?”

“Yes, my Lord,” Uraume said, unable to hide the amusement in their voice. “It seems to be a love letter.”

Sukuna smirked. “Is it? Let me see.”

Uraume handed him the scroll, and Sukuna read on, his usually cold demeanor cracking ever so slightly as he made his way through the poetic declarations. His heart actually skipped a beat when he saw the lines about his "handsome four arms" and "piercing, yet captivating eyes."

"...When I look into your eyes, it's as though I see the entire universe. Your strength is unrivaled, your beauty unmatched."

Sukuna blinked, his mind struggling to comprehend what was happening. Was he... blushing? What kind of nonsense was this? He shook his head as if to rid himself of the absurdity.

But there was something in those words—something tender—that tugged at him. He looked over the letter again, a rare feeling bubbling in his chest.

"She really... thinks that of me?" Sukuna muttered under his breath.

"Indeed, my Lord," Uraume confirmed, their voice soft with a trace of teasing. "It seems she finds you quite... attractive."

Sukuna snorted, rolling his eyes, but there was a faint, pleased smile curling on his lips. He couldn't help it; there was something about how his sweet little human wife saw him—really saw him—that made his heart do strange things.

With a low, almost possessive cackle, Sukuna pushed himself off his throne. "I need to see her. Now."

You were strolling through the gardens, lost in thought, enjoying the quiet of the day. Your delicate fingers brushed the petals of the flowers as you walked, when suddenly, you felt a presence behind you.

Before you could turn around, the voice you knew so well boomed from behind you. “Well, well, little wife. I've made quite the discovery, haven’t I?”

You stiffened, your heart dropping. Oh no...

“W-What do you mean?” You turned around, trying to play it cool, but your wide eyes betrayed you.

Sukuna smirked as he approached you, holding the scroll in his hands. “A love letter? To me? You must really be under my spell, huh?”

“Nooooooo...” you groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Why—why are you like this?”

“Oh, but I must know,” Sukuna continued, his voice dripping with amusement. “Do you find my four arms attractive? Or maybe it’s my eyes? Hmm? The ‘piercing, captivating eyes’?”

You were about to burst into flames from embarrassment. “Stop it! I was young! I—I—I was just—just... poetic! And dramatic! And—!”

Sukuna chuckled deeply, that deep, rumbling sound that made your heart flutter despite the embarrassment. “Poetic, huh? Well, little wife, I must admit, your words have an effect on me. You’ve really outdone yourself.”

You could feel your face turning as red as a tomato as you half-heartedly tried to grab the scroll from his hands. “Please, just burn it! I’ll never recover from this. Ever!”

Sukuna took a step back, watching you struggle to keep it together. The sight was too adorable, too human, and for a moment, the terrifying King of Curses just couldn’t help but soften his expression, his gaze lingering on you with something like affection.

You continued your frantic flailing, but your eyes met his and—damn it, your heart was racing again.

“You really think I’m that attractive, huh?” Sukuna said, stepping closer, his voice teasing but somehow gentler than usual. “Tell me, do you still feel the same way, little wife?”

You flailed a little more dramatically. “I...! You’re ruining me!”

“You did write this, didn’t you?” he said, lowering the scroll and staring at you with that all-too-confident glint in his eyes. “So, tell me, do you still think I’m ‘unmatched in beauty’?”

The words you wrote—so carefully chosen, full of love—now seemed to weigh on you like a thousand pounds. You groaned in frustration. “I was being dramatic! A little poetic flair here and there... okay, maybe a lot of flair, but I was... young, okay?!”

Sukuna’s smile softened, and he placed the scroll in your hands. “You’re still the same, aren’t you?”

“Stop,” you muttered, your voice barely a whisper. You wanted to vanish into the earth. You'd never survive this embarrassment. Never.

But Sukuna, in all his terrifying glory, knelt down to your level and gently cupped your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender.

“Don’t hide from me, little wife. You wrote this out of love. And for that... I’ll never make fun of you for it. Besides...” He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “I like how much you love me. Even if it means I get to tease you for it.”

You closed your eyes, melting under his touch, all the while, your heart racing. “You’re impossible,” you muttered.

“I know,” he purred, grinning from ear to ear. “But that’s why you married me.”

You could only groan, giving in to the impossible man who had somehow wrapped you around his finger—and you’d never be happier about it.

Choso was sitting at the kitchen table, a tear-streaked face buried in his hands. His shoulders were shaking slightly as he stared down at the letter in his lap. His heart ached, not from pain, but from something else. Something softer. Something—embarrassing.

You had just come in from the garden, humming to yourself, when you caught sight of him. And you froze.

"Choso?" you asked cautiously, tilting your head. "What’s going on? Are you—are you okay?"

His voice, thick with emotion, broke through his trembling hands. "I... I found it... I found your letter."

You blinked, brows furrowing. "My letter? Which one?"

“The one you wrote to me… back when we were dating.”

Now that hit you like a ton of bricks. You swallowed hard, trying not to panic. Oh god. You had written a lot of things back then, too many of them cringey and so full of teenage drama. You could already feel the cringe creeping up your spine.

Your lips pulled into a nervous smile. "Choso, sweetheart, you’ve... you’ve gotta be kidding. You’ve been holding onto that thing for years?"

He looked up at you with those wide, pitiful eyes, his lower lip trembling. "It’s so... it’s so beautiful... but also so embarrassing..." He could barely finish his sentence before he put his hands back over his face, shoulders shaking again.

You blinked rapidly. "Wait, wait, hold on. You’re crying over a letter?"

His voice was muffled behind his hands. "It was... everything I needed to hear from you. I didn’t know back then... how much it meant..."

Your heart melted for him, but you had no idea how to react. Choso was dramatic, sure, but this?

“Choso, honey, please. It can’t be that bad.” You walked over, sitting down beside him, reaching out to gently pull his hands away from his face. “Show me. What did I even say? I’m sure it wasn’t that—”

He thrust the letter into your hands like it was a delicate artifact, almost afraid to let it out of his sight.

"Here..." His voice wavered. "Read it... you’ll understand."

You glanced down at the letter and immediately felt your face burn. The handwriting was unmistakably yours—so full of emotions, so full of youth. You skimmed the first few lines, wincing a little.

"Okay, okay... uhh... Choso, I—" You made it a few sentences in before you felt the need to physically cringe. "Oh, no."

You cleared your throat. "Let’s see here... ‘My dearest Choso, your presence fills my heart with a warmth so pure, a fire so gentle. Your love is the light that guides me in the darkest of times. I am forever enchanted by your tenderness...’"

You froze, the back of your neck prickling with embarrassment. “Oh my god,” you whispered to yourself. “What... what was I even saying here?”

Choso, still looking like he was on the verge of another round of tears, nodded seriously. "Yeah, exactly. It’s... it’s beautiful, right? Your words… your love..."

You gave him a wide-eyed look. "Beautiful?! Choso, baby, this is... so cringey! This is—you—this is... I... nooooooo." You threw the letter down onto the table in sheer dramatic agony. “I literally cannot believe I wrote this to you. Why would I—why would I say that?!” You buried your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking as you dramatically flopped forward. “I’m a monster. I should never be allowed to write anything ever again. That is so... so embarrassing.”

Choso was still staring at you, eyes wide, clearly not understanding your level of discomfort. “But... I loved it. I love it. I loved the way you saw me then... you really felt that way about me?”

You groaned, covering your face in your hands, your voice muffled. “Yes, but god, I was so dramatic! So cheesy! Like, ugh! Look, ‘your presence fills my heart with warmth’?” You could feel yourself melting from the inside out. “Who even talks like that? It’s like I was writing for a novel.”

“But I... I liked it,” Choso said quietly, his voice filled with a sweetness that nearly undid you. “I liked how much you loved me. I didn’t even know it at the time, but... it meant everything to me.”

You blinked, glancing at him through your fingers. He looked so sincere—and that only made the cringe worse.

You sighed dramatically, still half-buried in your hands. “Choso, I swear, I’m literally going to die of secondhand embarrassment.”

He tilted his head, that same soft, patient look in his eyes as he reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. “I don’t think you get it. I’m so happy that you loved me like that. It’s... perfect. It’s you, and it’s real. And even if it’s cheesy... it makes me feel like the luckiest man alive.”

You finally peeked out from your hands, looking at him with a mix of fondness and absolute horror. “You’re too sweet. I’m dying. You’re gonna make me melt into a puddle of shame.”

“I don’t mind if you melt... as long as I get to hold the pieces of you after.” Choso grinned, his soft, sad little smile turning into something mischievous.

“Okay, okay, stop! You can’t just say stuff like that after I’ve shown you my deep, emotional self-doubt!” You sat up, pushing at his chest playfully. “I’ll die if you keep making me feel things after the disaster of a letter I wrote!”

Choso chuckled softly, but you could see the tenderness in his gaze. “I don’t care if it’s dramatic. I love it. I love you, even more than I loved that letter.”

You slumped back in your chair, finally letting out a breath, though your heart was still pounding a little too fast. “You’re going to be the end of me, I swear.”

Choso’s grin softened into something more sincere, and he reached out to gently pull you close, his hands holding you tight, as if to shield you from any more cringe.

“Maybe it’s dramatic, but I’d rather you be dramatic than not love me at all.” His voice was quiet, full of something vulnerable. “And I’d never stop loving you, no matter how cheesy you get.”

You buried your face in his chest, trying not to think about the letter—or your poor, poor, dramatic younger self.

"You're impossible," you muttered, but there was no bite in it. You couldn’t stay mad at him—not when he was holding you like this, his warmth wrapping around you.

Choso just chuckled softly. "I’m not the one who wrote that letter, sweetheart. You were the impossible one."

Shiu Kong was going through some files in the home office, the flicker of a late afternoon sun casting a warm glow on the scattered paperwork.

He was getting a little frustrated, squinting at the documents, trying to locate the one he needed for a client’s case. His fingers flipped through stacks, his mind focused, until—whoops—he accidentally knocked over a pile of papers, and something unexpected fell out from the top.

It was an envelope. A familiar, old envelope with your handwriting on it.

His heart skipped a beat. "Wait... is this—?"

He gently picked it up, almost afraid to open it, yet unable to resist. He recognized the handwriting immediately—it was from a long time ago. Way before the two of you had gotten married. His mind raced as he slowly tore open the seal.

He started reading, and had to stop himself from audibly cackling.

The words were so you—so full of love and warmth, but also... a little bit of that cringey youthful romanticism that made him smile despite himself. You'd written it when you were still dating, back when he was just “Shiu” and not husband. And yet, every line, every word, made him feel like the luckiest man alive.

You had written about him like he was some sort of prince, some otherworldly figure—a knight in shining armor. "The way you make me feel... like no one else could ever compare... your strength and your heart both captivate me in ways I never thought possible..."

The more he read, the more he felt like he was floating. Was this really how you had felt back then? Was this really how you still felt now?

"Oh my god...," he muttered under his breath, practically glowing with pride.

Meanwhile, you were coming back from the kitchen, wiping your hands on a dish towel when you saw Shiu standing in the office doorway, a smirk on his face, that sparkle in his eye that meant trouble.

He looked at you, holding the letter out between his fingers like some kind of treasure.

“Shiu, what are you doing with that?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but your face was already red from the pure horror of it all.

He held the letter out toward you. “Well, well, little wife, seems you’ve written me a letter... a very romantic letter, if I may say so.”

Your stomach dropped. No. No no no nooooooo.

“Shiu,” you groaned, dramatically clutching your chest like you were about to faint. “Please... for the love of everything, don’t.”

He looked at you, eyes wide with mock innocence. “What? You don’t want me to read it aloud? Because I was about to tell you how much you loved me in your own words.” He dramatically cleared his throat. “‘The way you make me feel… like no one else could ever compare. Your strength and your heart captivate me in ways I never thought possible.’"

You froze, your face burning. “Shiu, stop it! God, I should never have written that!” You covered your face with both hands. “Now you’re gonna have this massive ego boost, and I’ll never hear the end of it.”

His grin was practically glowing. “Oh, I don’t know... I think I could get used to being praised like that.”

“No,” you said with a dramatic sigh, turning away from him, though you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed and amused. “This is terrible. Why would I even say something like that? I was so young and so—ugh—dramatic.”

He stepped closer, putting a hand on your shoulder to turn you around. “Don’t you dare act like you weren’t swooning over me,” he teased, his voice soft and full of affection. “I mean, look at this—‘your strength and your heart.’ You thought I was some kind of god, huh?”

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands again. “I didn’t think you were a god! Okay, maybe I did a little, but... please, just let it go!” You shook your head, your voice muffled through your fingers. “I was literally just trying to write something cute for you and... now you’re gonna be insufferable.”

He gave a playful chuckle and pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you. “Insufferable? I think I’m quite tolerable when it comes to my adoring wife.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, a mischievous glint in your eye. “You’re so full of it, Shiu.”

His grin softened, and he kissed your forehead. “But you still love me, right? Even though I know just how much you adored me.”

You dramatically sighed again, but there was no real bite behind it. “Fine, fine. But don’t get too cocky, okay?”

Shiu's arms tightened around you, and he laughed softly. “You have no idea how much I love you, sweetheart. This letter just reminded me how lucky I am to have you.”

Your heart swelled, despite the embarrassment still gnawing at you. “I can’t believe you’re making me relive my past awkwardness, though. Honestly, I might just... pass out from secondhand embarrassment. Please, Shiu. Please just... pretend you didn’t read it.”

He leaned back, gazing at you with a teasing smile, clearly enjoying the torment. “Never. Now, every time I look at you, I’ll just think about how much you adored me... and I’ll never let you forget it.”

You buried your face in his chest, half-laughing and half-groaning in pure exasperation. “You’re such a brat, you know that?”

He kissed the top of your head, the fondness in his gaze turning soft. “And you love it, don’t lie.”

You sighed again, but this time, it was full of fond affection. “Yeah, yeah. I do.”

And despite your earlier regret, you couldn’t help but feel warm inside. The letter may have been cheesy, and Shiu’s ego may have just gained a massive boost, but in the end, all that really mattered was that you were both here, together, laughing at something so silly.

That was love. And maybe... just maybe... you wouldn't mind writing a few more dramatic letters in the future.

It had been a long day.

Hiromi was hunched over his desk, the soft click of his pen as he filled out legal papers filling the quiet apartment. His mind was far from the case at hand, though- it was lost in thoughts of his beautiful wife, who was cooking dinner in the next room.

His thoughts were interrupted by the rustling of paper. He frowned as his hand brushed against something odd—a few pieces of folded paper that had somehow slipped between the case files. Curious, he unfolded one of the papers, thinking it might be something related to the case. What he found, though, made his breath catch in his throat.

It was a letter.

Not just any letter — a love letter. His wife’s handwriting.

The paper was old, the edges slightly curled from time, but it was unmistakably the words of someone who had poured their heart out. And as his eyes skimmed over the words, his stomach dropped.

The letter was filled with descriptions of him.

“I love how your smile reaches your eyes…” “How are you always so handsome? I could never get over how perfect you look even after a long day…"

The more he read, the tighter his chest felt. He couldn’t help but chuckle at how you had described him — like the knight in shining armor, but in such an innocent, endearing way that it made his heart ache.

And then there was a drawing at the back. Of his profile. A very detailed, very beautiful drawing of his face, his features so carefully captured that it almost felt like a gift all on its own.

“God, you were so sweet back then,” he murmured, running a hand over his face.

He could hear you humming in the kitchen, unaware of the storm you had just caused in his mind. He couldn’t just leave it there. No. He was going to show you how much he loved you. After all, you thought he was handsome even then. Surely, you deserved a reminder that he thought the same about you — and that he had been crazy about you for years.

He stood up, the letter clutched tightly in his hand, and made his way into the kitchen, his heart racing. You looked up, your expression warm and inviting, a little confused when you saw him holding the letter.

“Hiromi?” you asked, arching an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a step toward you, and then another, until he was close enough to feel the warmth of your body. Without saying a word, he kissed you. Slow at first, as though savoring the moment. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer as his lips moved over yours with more urgency.

You blinked, surprised at the intensity of the kiss. Your hands instinctively rose to his shoulders, pressing into the solid muscle beneath his shirt. When he pulled away, his lips were still a breath away from yours, eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Hiromi?” you asked again, slightly breathless now. “What’s going on? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he held up the letter. “I found this,” he said, his voice a low murmur. “And I have to say… I’m feeling a little… inspired.”

You froze. Your eyes darted to the paper in his hand, your stomach doing a flip. You recognized the handwriting immediately.

“Oh God,” you muttered, cheeks flushing. “I was so dramatic back then…”

Hiromi smirked.

“I don’t know about ‘dramatic,’ but I’d say ‘adorable’ fits better.” His thumb ran over the edges of the letter, his gaze flickering between your face and the paper. “I think I need to show you how much I love you too. Since, you know, you think I’m handsome.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could, his lips were on yours again, this time with an intensity that made your heart beat erratically in your chest. His hands slid down your sides, pulling you closer until there was no space between you two.

“Hiromi,” you gasped, your fingers gripping the collar of his shirt, but he wasn’t hearing you. He was too busy kissing you like it was the only thing that mattered.

“Is that what you thought back then?” His voice was low, almost a growl, as his lips trailed down your neck, making you shiver. “You think I’m handsome, huh?”

Your face was burning, your chest rising and falling in time with the heavy breaths escaping your lips.

“I—I mean, yeah… I did—do.”

He smiled against your skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to pull you even closer, the heat of his body making everything inside you melt.

“Then I guess I’ll have to thank you.” He didn’t give you a chance to respond before his lips were on yours again, this time, even more demanding.

You knew what was coming next, and frankly, you were already done resisting. You had already called him handsome so many times in that damn letter—seven years ago—and now he was going to show you exactly what he thought about that.

He pressed you back against the counter, the intensity of his kiss never wavering as his hands moved with practiced ease.

“You never stop flattering me, do you?” he teased, his lips brushing against your ear. “I will take that as a challenge.”

Your breath hitched as his hands worked their magic, making you forget about everything except him. You had written it years ago, but tonight, in this moment, you were about to feel every word you had written — and more.

And as his lips found yours again, the room seemed to shrink.

A/N: idk, i think this was funny, maybe it was a little ooc for some of em... alSO LOOK I WROTE FOR CHOSO!!! anyways... yeah! (also someone sent me a hilarious ask abt how the jjk men would react to reader throwing themselves out of a moving car during an argument and thats fucking hilarious im writing it rn)

Masterlist.

:)

[rie-092]

Hi, i love ypur dinamic.

When I read lycris number 8 I inmediatly tough of Claude de Alber Obelia.

Maybe where the reader is someone whi he grow up and it could be Athanasio or Felix Fiance/wife <3

EVENT'S ENTRY OO1 : POSSESSION

[ yandere! claude de alger obelia ]

note: here's the link about the event! i love this prompt. this would be fun!

okay, let's start with the time before everything became messy.

there is one reason why you became anastacius's wife despite the two of you being way too young to get married. they wanted to tie your family down to the imperial family and anastacius was the one who acted as a shackle to make sure that your family will stay still and be the imperial family's loyal dog.

but honestly, being in the imperial family wasn't that bad. because you have anastacius and his younger brother, claude who was still young that time.

the first time you met claude, there's only one thing that came into your mind. why in the hell did they abuse this cute little creature?

that's the reason how you and anastacius became claude's salvation inside the imperial palace.

you always plays with him, spend time with him, hell, you even go far on firing those maids who put sand on claude's soup (you're the crown princess and you have the every rights to do so, duh.)

but there is still this small doubt inside his mind. that this peace won't stay forever and there is a high chance that you will change once you grew up and realize that he was lacking in many aspects.

and that doubt was only fueled when anastacius slowly changed.

and anastacius started isolating you. and he started prohibiting you as well as claude from visiting each other. and that's how everything became messy.

you see, this is the main reason why claude lost it. the gentle facade that he created for you and anastacius. his confidence, his emotions, his everything as well as his mother.

but don't worry, this wasn't his boiling point. he still had lady margarita (forgot her name, my baddd). while you escape time to time to spend time with him.

he remembered back then, before his big brother's betrayal. when the two of you escaped the palace to play. he remembered it clearly, the time you said that you were on his side. and you will remain as his friend forever.

unknown to you, this only fuels the unhealthy feelings that he suppress for years. because hell, you were his big brother's wife!

and congrats! now you had a possessive and obsessive yandere who sees love as ownership! and damn, he will not let you escape, after all, you were his right?

and fast forward to the time where claude discovered lady margarita and anastacius' betrayal. instead of feeling betrayed, this man was delighted as hell.

he can still clearly remember how he sent you a letter using his brother's name and inviting you to the room where lady margarita and anastacius was doing the deed.

he remembered how excited he was seeing the horror in your eyes.

ahh, don't blame him. you left him no choice after all. because he knew that deep inside, you started on having a feeling towards his older brother.

and it's a big no because you were his.

and now, after all the shits happened. and he became the emperor. you suddenly said that you will now go back to your family?

no, no. how can you say that towards him, (name)? after all he did to keep you by his side? after all the blood that he spilled for you?

don't be surprise if you woke up in your palace, chained in your bed. and even had a collar with his name on it.

you made him do this so basically, this wasn't his fault. you made him insecure, you made him panic. so, technically, you deserve this.

oh, by the way. starving yourself to death won't work against claude because he won't hesitate to force you on eating. or even killing your family in front of you.

just give up, ( name ). because you were his as much as he was yours.

now, be a good girl and help him raise athanasia well, okay? <3

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

“ ahh, dear. stop being annoying or i would be the one to hold you down and put this damn food in your mouth. hmm? you don't like that right? now be a good girl and listen to me, okay? ”

[wendichester]

Hello! Could I perhaps request the winchester of your choice (whoever you feel fits this situation best) x reader with an established relationship, where maybe it's an anniversary so he wants to make something special for you, like a special dinner in the bunker, the bedroom filled with candles and a bouquet of flowers, that sort of thing, because for once there isn't a case

EXCEPT: you haven't left the bunker all day, there's no reason to! You three finished a case the day before so you took this as a resting day since there wasn't any other case found, so! The brothers have to find a way to get one to keep you out till the evening, while the other rushes to get everything set up

I hope this isn't too detailed/unclear?? Tysm anyway if you write this!! I love your blog a lot <3

⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡ anniversary surprise,

summary. dean wants to do something special for your anniversary

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 963

notes. though i would also see sam doing something like this, it just screamed like dean behaviour. he's the softess little thing to me ‹𝟹

The bunker is unusually quiet for once—a rare luxury in the hunting life. After wrapping up a tough case yesterday, you've taken full advantage of the downtime. Still in your pyjamas, you've spent the day curled up on the couch with a book, refusing to even glance at your laptop.

Sam, however, hasn't been able to sit still. He keeps pacing the bunker, glancing at his phone like he's expecting bad news. It's distracting enough that you close your book and call him out.

"You trynna dig a hole in the ground or something, Sam? What's wrong?"

He freezes mid-step, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. "What? Nothing! I'm fine."

You squint at him, unconvinced. “Sam, if you’re trying to avoid telling me about a case, just spit it out. I’m not leaving this bunker today unless something’s on fire.”

He stammers for a moment, clearly scrambling for an excuse. Then, his eyes light up like he's just had an idea. Oh, boy. "Uh, there's this event in town. A... a book signing. By an author I like. I thought it might be interesting, but I, uh, don't wanna go alone."

The confession catches you off guard. "A book signing?"

"Yeah," he says quickly, nodding like it's the most logical thing in the world.

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. Sam Winchester, shy about attending a book event? It doesn't quite add up, but you decide to let it slide.

You glance toward Dean, who's pretending to be engulfed in his phone and beer, but is clearly eavesdropping. He doesn't even look up, clearly uninterested.

"Alright, Sam," you say with a sigh. "I'll go with you."

Relief washes over his face, making the situation even more weird. "Great! Thanks."

The book signing ends up being more enjoyable than you expected. Sam is in his element, geeking out over the author’s latest release and chatting animatedly with other fans. You find yourself wandering through the bookstore, skimming through titles and enjoying the relaxed atmosphere.

Afterward, you grab coffee at a nearby café, the conversation flowing easily as you and Sam talk about everything and nothing. It’s a rare, peaceful moment—one you don’t take for granted.

By the time you return to the bunker, the sun has long since set, and the air carries a cool, crisp chill. Sam walks ahead, fishing in his pocket for the keys.

“Shoot,” he says suddenly, patting his jacket. “I think I left something in the Impala.”

You shrug, already halfway to the door. “Alright. I’ll meet you inside.”

The moment you step through the door, you stop in your tracks.

Rose petals are scattered on the floor, forming a delicate path that leads toward the kitchen. Soft, flickering candlelight spills into the hallway, and the faint scent of your favorite meal wafts through the air.

“Dean?” you call out, your voice trembling slightly.

“Over here,” he replies, his voice warm and inviting.

You follow the trail, your heart pounding in your chest. When you step into the kitchen, you’re met with a sight that takes your breath away.

The table is covered with a white cloth, set with actual plates and silverware instead of the usual mismatched collection. Candles are arranged in the center, their golden light casting a romantic glow over the room. Your favourite store-bought meal sits neatly plated, steam rising in the air.

Dean is leaning casually against the counter, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. He’s wearing a button-up shirt instead of his usual flannel, the effort not lost on you.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” he says softly.

Your stomach drops as guilt washes over you. You completely forgot.

“Dean,” you whisper, your eyes welling up. “I… I didn’t—”

“Hey,” he interrupts, pushing off the counter and walking toward you. He cups your face gently in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “It’s okay. I know you’ve been busy. This is my gift to you.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you stare up at him, his green eyes filled with nothing but love and understanding. “What did I do to deserve you?”

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m the lucky one to have you.”

You bite your lip, emotion threatening to overwhelm you, but Dean tugs you toward the table before it can. “Come on. Dinner’s getting cold.”

The meal is perfect, just like everything Dean does when he puts his mind to it. Between bites, you and Dean fall into easy conversation, laughter punctuating the air as you recount memories from the past year. The stress of the world melts away, leaving only the two of you in your little bubble of happiness.

After dinner, Dean takes your hand and leads you down the hallway. When he opens the door to your bedroom, your jaw drops.

The room is softly lit with more candles, their gentle glow highlighting a small table set up in the corner. A rich chocolate cake sits in the center, accompanied by a bottle of champagne and two glasses. The bed looks impossibly inviting, piled high with plush pillows and fresh sheets.

“You really outdid yourself,” you murmur, turning to him with wide eyes.

He shrugs, but the pleased grin on his face betrays his pride. “Only the best for my girl.”

Your heart swells as you step closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you, you know that?”

“I love you too,” he says, leaning down to kiss you.

The rest of the night is spent wrapped in Dean’s love and care, the perfect celebration of the life you’ve built together. For once, the world outside doesn’t matter—all that does is the warmth of his arms and the steady beat of his heart.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas

[puma-riki]

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 𝒜 𝐻 𝓊 𝓃 𝒹 𝓇 𝑒 𝒹 𝒮 𝓁 𝑒 𝑒 𝓅 𝓁 𝑒 𝓈 𝓈 𝒩 𝒾 𝑔 𝒽 𝓉 𝓈

۶ৎ ʟᴇᴇ ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

୨ৎ 𝒮 𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈 ~ Heeseung accidentally lets his secret slip in his sleep

𖹭 𝒢 𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒 ~ Fluff a smidge of angst

𖹭 𝒲 𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ~ Not proofread Heeseung has a bit of self-doubt (just a lil)

𖹭 𝒜 𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩 𝑜𝓉𝑒 ~ take this draft while I work on the next riki smau update. The next update is written so if it's not perfect I can't post it BEAR WITH ME. I got this idea from a TikTok abt ppls fiancée's being incredibly nervous before proposing and being painfully obvious about it LMAO

── .✦

Heeseung was exhausted.

He trudged through the door of your apartment, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft thud. The weight of the day pressed on his shoulders like a lead cloak he couldn't shrug off. His muscles ached from the hours of dance practice, and his throat was raw from recording in the studio. Even though the day had been long, his mind wasn't on the new choreography or the endless takes of content they had filmed.

It was on you.

As he slipped off his shoes at the door and padded into your room, his thoughts swirled. The small velvet box in his bag felt heavier than it should, tucked carefully between a change of clothes, and a water bottle. He dropped the bag onto the floor by the nightstand, staring at it for a moment before carefully pulling out the box.

He opened it, letting the dim light of the room catch the sparkle of the diamond. It sparkled like a fragment of a star

Is this enough?

The question struck him like it had every night since he bought the ring. Heeseung thumbed the velvet edges of the box, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

You're going to say yes... right?

He closed the box with a snap, shaking his head to clear the self-doubt. Heeseung loved you more than anything and he wanted this moment to be perfect for you-- a story you'd both tell for years. But as much as he tried, nothing felt good enough.

His mind replayed the day's events as he stepped in the shower, hoping the warm water would wash away his worries. Hours spent perfecting choreography, filming promotional content with the guys, then heading straight to the studio to work on their upcoming track. By the time they had wrapped up, it was already close to midnight. He'd pushed himself through the day, fueled by a mix of adrenaline and nerves, but as he went through his nighttime routine alone in your apartment, he felt the exhaustion set in.

Still, his thoughts were restless. He had written about a million things he could say to you, to lay his heart bare in front of you, and none of them felt right. His notes app was flooded with scrapped speeches and unfinished confessions.

You deserved a proposal straight out of a movie. Everything down to the time he popped the question, had to be perfect. He thought about proposing on New year's, but was he about to share what was supposed to be your guy's day with the whole world?

Absolutely not.

The place had to be stunning. Should he take you to dinner? One of the really fancy and expensive ones? Maybe not, that was too cliche.

The place you first met? Or maybe on a beach? No, it was too cold for the beach around this time of year. You'd probably like a smaller and more intimate place anyway.

But the scariest part was this:

Would you even say yes?

He was ready to wife you up the moment you laughed at one of his dumb jokes-- one that wasn't even funny-- and then you told him he was stupid right after, but you said it in a way that gave him heartburn.

He was ready, but are you? Did you even think he was husband material?

He had reached out to your family after he bought the ring. The gentlemanly thing to do was to get permission from your parents before he asked, of course, he would've married you whether they gave him permission to or not. They were enthusiastic about it. They had been sending him praise and encouragement over the phone since he last called, saying you'd definitely say yes and more than happy.

But they weren't you.

Heeseung groaned and covered his face with the towel he'd been using to dry his hair. He needed to go to bed.

Now showered and dressed in pajama pants and a sleep shirt, he tucked himself under the cool covers of the bed. Your side was empty, and he didn't like how cold it felt. He checked his phone.

1:03 AM

You had told him earlier today that you would be out late with your friends. Much to his disappointment, he would have to go to bed alone. He'd be asleep when you got home and probably be up before you for work.

Heeseung put his phone down on the nightstand to charge and turned to your side of the bed. His eyelids felt heavy, and his worries and doubts were starting to become muffled as he sank into the plush mattress.

--

1:47 AM

You quietly crept into your bedroom, heels in hand to make sure you made as little sound as possible. The apartment was quiet, save for the hum of the air conditioner and the steady rhythm of Heeseung's breathing. You glance over at the bed. He left his bedside lamp on, something he usually does when he knows you'll be coming home late. He's sprawled out on the bed, one arm thrown over his face as if shielding himself from dreams.

Your heart melts at the sight and a soft smile tugs at your lips as you move to the bathroom. The night had been fun, filled with laughter and stories from her friends, but this moment was your favorite part of the day. When you come home to Heeseung.

Once you freshen up, rid of makeup, and your pretty (but uncomfortable after a few hours) outfit, you turn off the bedside lamp and slide into bed carefully.

The mattress dipped under your weight as you tried to move as slow as possible to not wake him, although you knew how deep he slept after long days like this. Your gaze fell on him again, the dim light from the bustling city behind your window, casting a faint light on his face.

You reached out, fingers brushing back the hair that had fallen into his eyes. His chest rose and fell steadily and his body felt warm against yours as you moved closer. His face looked so soft, peaceful in sleep. His lips form a small pout as his cheek lays snugly against the pillow. A pout makes its way onto your face as you trace your thumb over the heavy shadows under his eyes.

Heeseung was always working hard. A little too hard. You could feel the stress radiating off of him the past 2 weeks. You'd boiled it down to him wanting to perform well with their packed schedule. Which is what it usually was, but you had heard that the group was doing just fine balancing everything and had every song and dance down to a T.

There was something else lingering on Heeseung's mind and you couldn't quite figure out what.

"My hard-working man," You murmur, hand resting on his cheek. "You need to rest more." You murmured again under your breath, squishing his cheeks gently between your fingers. He let out a soft snore in response, and you giggled, the cuteness aggression bubbling up inside you.

As you pulled your hand back, he stirred.. "Mmm... perfect." he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

You froze, stifling a laugh. "What's that, Hee?"

"...perfect... has to be perfect..."

You blinked, leaning in closer. "What has to be perfect, baby?" You whispered, brushing your fingers along his temple.

"...proposal.." he muttered, his brows furrowing slightly. "I dunno... if the rings enough... dunno if she'll like it.."

Your breath caught, eyes widening as you realized what he was saying. A flush crept up your cheeks, and you lips curled into a soft smile. "Oh, Heeseung," You murmured, voice barely audible. You seriously wanted to smother him he was so cute.

"She deserves the best... better than me..." His words slurred together, his hand that was resting on your pillow twitching slightly.

Your chest ached at the vulnerability in his voice, even in sleep. You grabbed his twitching hand and held it in yours, placing a kiss on the knuckle of his ring finger. Your thumb gently stroked his skin as you whispered, "You're already the best, silly. Nothing else matters"

"...What if she says.. no"

The words were so soft, almost a whisper, but they broke your heart a little. You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his forehead as you blinked back small tears that were starting to form. "You're such an idiot," you whispered against his skin. "I'd say yes to you a hundred times over."

Heeseung sighed in his sleep, his body relaxing against your touch. You laughed quietly to yourself, shaking your head. "My hard-working, overthinking man," Wrapping your arms around him and holding him close to your chest.

5:13 AM

Heeseung stirs awake, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains and painting the room in a golden glow. He blinks a few times, his eyes adjusting to the light, only to find you already awake and tracing the bridge of his nose with your pointer finger.

"Hi," he mumbled, his voice raspy with sleep.

"Hi," Your voice was so quiet, he would've missed it if he wasn't so close to you. A small grin formed on his face as his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Were you watching me in my sleep, you weirdo?"

You smiled softly, a quiet laugh threatening to fall from your lips. "Maybe, You're cute when you're asleep."

"Oh, yeah?" Heeseung smirked, his hand slipping under your shirt to pinch your side, earning a squeal from you. "And what about when I'm awake?"

You squirmed in his hold, laughter spilling out of you as you tried to push his cold hand away from you," You're quite annoying actually."

"Rude." He mumbled, relenting and holding you tight against his chest. The warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart grounded you, your earlier excitement now mingling with contentment.

"Why are you awake so early?" he asked, pressing his chin lightly to the top of your head as he began to play with the ends of your hair.

You shrugged, trying to act casual. "I couldn't sleep."

"Couldn't sleep?" Heeseung echoed, his fingers absent mindedly tracing patterns on your back, "Why not?"

"Just... thinking," You murmured, your cheeks warming at the memory of his sleep-talking confession just hours earlier.

He hummed, though his curiosity didn't press. The comfortable silence stretched between you until his voice broke it.

"Hey,"

"Hm?"

"If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you want to go?"

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your face thoughtful for a moment as you looked off to the side and pursed your lips.

Cute.

Your face softened into a smile as your eyes met his. For a moment, his wide, doe-like eyes shimmered, gazing at you as if you had taken the night sky and laid it at his feet

"Anywhere, as long as I'm with you."

Heeseung blinked, his eyes wide for a split second before he let out a soft laugh, his hand coming up to squish your cheeks.

"You're so corny."

"Hey, you asked," You shot back, though your grin only widened when he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead. Then your nose. Then your cheek and your jaw.

"I could also see you blushing" You giggled, face scrunched as he pressed another kiss to your cheek.

"Mmm.. I wasn't blushing." He mumbled into your cheek. His arm holding you impossibly closer to him.

"Yes, you were," You laughed, trying to squirm out of his hold again.

"Prove it then." He challenged pulling away from your face and holding your head close to his neck to prevent you from seeing his face.

"Hey!" Your protests came muffled against his skin and the pillow.

"Shhh, go back to sleep." You roll your eyes but give up anyway. The position you were in was comfortable and heeseung's warmth made your eyelids grow heavy.

"Hey, how do you feel about beaches in the winter?"

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧!)ᯓ★ | @jiiyen @yangjungwonnie @amoressb @sugarikiz @stvrriki

Send and ask or comment on any post of mine to be added to my permanent taglist >:3

𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧ᯓ★

[7ndipity]

Their Love Languages

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: What the members main love languages are(both giving and receiving)

Warning: none, I think

A/N: First off, I'm so sorry for not posting much the past few weeks, I'm really hoping to get back to posting regularly again, but thank you all for your patience and understanding. A big thanks to @universal-travel-er for requesting this, I hope you like it!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jin: Giving: I think it’s a mix of Gifts and Quality Time. He seems to take a lot of delight in giving the members gifts, however odd some of them might seem(gold toilet brush lol). He also understands the importance of being with the people that matter most, so he definitely makes spending time together top priority(He literally planned a entire event at Lotte world so he could hang out with Army for the day)

Receiving: Quality Time and Words of Affirmation. He’s an introvert at his core, but spending time with the select people that he feels most comfortable with means the world to him. Even if you’re doing separate things, just being able to spend time existing in each other's proximity makes him happy. Also, I just feel like his constant plays for complements(I look handsome, right?” “Whaa! Have you ever seen someone play this well?!”) aren’t entirely for the joke. He really does crave them, they give him an instant boost of confidence like nothing else

Yoongi: Giving, there’s no question that his main love language is Acts of Service, we’ve seen it from him making food/snacks for his members, checking in on trainees, even just playing along with little requests from fans during livestreams. It warms his heart like nothing else to be of service to those around him. I also think he’s really big on words of affirmation. He’s always praising others in his soft, gentle way.

Receiving: I think it’s the same two, plus Quality Time. He appreciates acknowledgement of his efforts and someone who’ll look out for him as much as he does for them. He also values his free time greatly, and so someone making a conscious effort to dedicate time for him means a lot to him. Similar to Jin, you don’t even have to necessarily be doing the same thing, so long as you’re together(all those fics about hanging in his studio are onto something, tho I think he avoids working when he’s with his S/o)

Hobi: Giving: Gifts! He loves treating his members and loved ones to little surprises, whether that's with a simple coffee/dinner or some super elaborate gift(like when he made Jimin a physical copy of his song ‘Promise’ with a proper album booklet and everything). It makes him so happy to be able to provide for his loved one in some way, and he really loves finding special, unique things to show that he cares.

Receiving: He seems to really glow from Words of Affirmation, he loves having his efforts acknowledged and receiving praise. Acts of Service also seems to be a big one for him, The way he gets soo excited whenever one of the members comes by during a mv shoot or helps him with something(Jimin killing the bug for him during In The Soop lol), it makes him so happy to know that people actually want to help him too, not just the other way around.

Joon: He’s mentioned before that one of his love languages is Words of affirmation, both giving and receiving. He really values verbal expressions of affection and encouragement, and so he tries to give that back to those around him. Another big one for him as well is Quality Time. He’s very much an extrovert and knows the importance of spending time around those that you love, so he definitely makes an effort to be there for them as much as possible.

Receiving: Same as above. Having someone to just sit and talk with him about whatever soothes his heart like nothing else. It doesn’t matter if it’s a super deep topic or not(though knowing him, it’ll inevitably turn philosophical lol), just having someone spend time with him means the world to him. And that goes hand in hand with Words of Affirmation. As I said before, he really values verbal connection and encouragement, so genuine compliments or words of positivity makes his heart so happy

Jimin: For Giving, it’s definitely Acts of Service and Words of Affirmation. He’s very much a care-er, everyone who spends more than two minutes with him talks about how helpful and generous he is. He’s always making sure those around him are taken care of and encouraged in whatever it is they’re doing, or giving comfort if he sees someone struggling. Even in the military, other soldiers have shared how he treats them to food or gives up his phone time for them. He just wants to make sure everyone’s looked after and taken care of.

Receiving: Words of Affirmation and Physical Touch. We’ve all seen how physically affectionate he is with the members and his friends, he takes an immense amount of joy and comfort in physical contact, even if it's just a simple touch on his hand or shoulder. He also absolutely lights up whenever he receives praise, and really cherishes every piece of encouragement that he receives.

Taehyung: Giving: Words of Affirmation, He thrives on praise, and he also gives the same out to those around him happily. He’s always giving words of encouragement to the people around him. I’m reminded of him cheering on the crew in the middle of a sandstorm during the Yet To Come video shoot, and when a fan mentioned how she was joining the military because she wanted to help her family, and he told her that she was already helpful and valuable just by existing. He loves to lift up and encourage those around him through his words

Receiving: It should come as a shock to no one that his main languages are Words of Affirmation and Physical Touch. Look at the way that boy’s face lights up when someone compliments and try to argue with me. He absolutely thrives on praise. He’s talked about how he would work extra hard on choreo because he wanted praise from Hobi. He is also one of the biggest cuddle bugs I’ve ever seen, he’s always seeking out hugs and physical contact from the members or his friends, and this would only become more intense with his S/o.

Jungkook: Giving: Quality Time and Words of Affirmation. He seems to really put high priority on spending time with his loved ones as a way of making them feel seen and appreciated(yes, I’m still crying over his surprise weverse live, don’t touch me😭). He’s also always more than ready to give out compliments and words of encouragement to anyone around him, especially if he notices someone having a tough time.

Receiving: Quality Time, Words of Affirmation, and Physical Touch. Tbh I could’ve put all five languages for Kookie, he thrives on all forms of love and affection. The members have mentioned how easily sad he gets if he’s not included in things, he’s at his happiest when he’s with his people. He tends to be rather hard on himself, so he really relies on and takes a lot of comfort from praise and words of encouragement. He’s also mentioned how he really craves Physical Touch as a way to feel connected to his loved ones.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @seleneacyoflove @k4ngelz @universal-travel-er

[lavenders388]

Heyyy could you maybe write some nam-gyu(player 124) fluff like hes only nice to you and otherwise cold so he doesn’t seem week in front of the other players, there’s barely any nam-gyu fics😭😭

Thank youu💗💗

~Only For You~

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆ Nam-gyu x reader headcannons

requested 💌

a/n i LOVED this idea so much i thought i would do headcannons instead so i can write more little scenarios and get more into it:3

<3 throughout his past promoting clubs he would try and act cool/nonchalant sometimes in a rude way with his customers and/or employees, and he learned acting that way left people wanting to learn more about what he was promoting/respect him more and so it ended up becoming like his work attitude in order to make his club events more successful. he explains all of this to you in the beginning of your relationship, reassuring you its just for the money and he doesn't actually stand by anything he says or does and wouldn't ever. when you join him at his promoting nights he would refuse to act that way to you even if it was in front of someone super important:3

<3 going off of the first one, i think nam-gyu would prefer that you don't come with him to any clubs. first mostly because he doesn't believe that that type of environment is super safe for you and he doesn't want to risk you doing any substances/getting addicted to anything; and because he doesn't want you to see how he acts in front of the people he's trying to get business from. he thinks that you're better than the type of people he hangs around those nights as well as he just doesn't think you to deserve to have to see that side of him!

<3 he is super soft and kind to you in private, ever since he met you he started to prefer that side of him and dislike the feeling of having a fake, boisterous personality in order to gain the respect of people he's trying to sell club tickets to. he's a lot more introverted and kind when the two of you are in private and he really starts to prefer staying in with you over going out all night.

<3 one of his favorite things is coming home to you after working and being able to completely abandon his day and everything that came with it and just be himself and relax with you. he absolutely melts into you and loves the energy you give off. lets you know how much it means to him everyday!

<3 he uses substances a lot to uphold his extroverted, cool guy persona because he eventually gets exhausted of all of the late nights pretending to be someone he isn't and finds that using is really helpful even though he knows its not a good thing. this is also something he begins to want to stop doing when he meets you:)

<3 he really wants to stop his club promoting life for a more simple life with you where he can just be himself and not do so much overextending, but worries that he wont be able to find a job that pays as much as promoting does for him. he wants to be able to spoil you and doesn't think it would be right for him not be able to do that financially. he doesn't want you to have to work at all unless you want to, let alone be anywhere near the breadwinner of the household.

<3 he ends up going to the games after hearing the prize amount because he sees it as like a forced detox in a way; like he'll be away from any substances and he wont have to deal with any promoting stuff, and then hed have the opportunity to make a ton of money for you.

<3 you also get the card and want to join the games in order to pay off both of your debts and have a decent start at a new life together. you agree to do it together and use the winnings to pay everything off and buy a nice house and even start like a little coffee shop together or something:)

<3 during the games his persona becomes a lot more amplified because instead of doing it for his promoting he's doing it for a ton of money as well as for the both of your survivals. he also starts going through withdrawal from the stress of the games as well as if he had been using before he went there. this adds to his motivation to fit in at all costs when he sees what thanos has in his cross necklace. he doesn't like that you have to witness any of this but he likes that it ensures your safety being part of thanos's group. he makes it clear to thanos that you're with him for the games and nothing can change that.

<3 he reassures you that his behavior with thanos is nothing more than his need to win the games for the two of you, as well as ensuring your safety within a group. he lowkey makes fun of him with you in secret to make you feel better!!

<3 he compartmentalizes the other players as just people in his way of providing you the life you deserve; that them losing is just the two of you getting closer to winning and safely going home. the pills help him a lot with this; he knows that humanity and kindness might ruin his chance of winning for you, and showing mercy for the other players would result in thanos loosing respect for him. he knows that sticking with him will be of great assistance in winning, and he'll do anything to preserve that unless its something to you.

<3 if thanos starts to say something gross or mean to you or about you, nam-gyu shuts that shit DOWNNN! but in a very calculated way to not make him question their allyship. he'll say something like "lets respect the ladies." trying to sound joke-y but still meaning it.

<3 during mingle that man does not let go of you for a single second. even if it means not going with thanos he lets his demeanor fall a bit if it ensures you stay with him and make it through the game.

<3 when the fighting breaks out he does whatever it takes to protect you. especially after getting them pillz from thanos he purposely loses all sense of feeling bad for his actions because it just insures your safety even further. before he does it he reassures you its for your safety and because he wants to give you the life you deserve, and he means it when he says he'll do anything to give you that. "please just trust me baby, this all for you. for us." he says to you as he leads you to safety before lights out. "if you need me call for me and ill be here. i love you."

<3 when you get scared during the games and in moments like that he allows his demeanor to soften even if people are watching him. he wouldn't want the last thing you remember him doing to be him not being himself and being sweet to you. se-mi notices but thinks its sweet, especially because shes doing the same thing as him; faking it to thanos to be in his group.

<3 inside and outside of the games all he wants to do is protect and provide for you and he would do whatever it takes<3

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Semifinals Poll 1

Please be civil in the notes. We will block people if we feel it is necessary. A character being canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included. This is not a competition of who is better representation.

Check out the other poll in the semifinals here.

Yang Xiao Long-RWBY

Qualifications:

She is canonically wlw (has been for years but specifically kissed and got together with her now girlfriend in the latest season) and uses a prosthetic arm and has been shown to struggle with PTSD due to the traumatic nature of losing it during the show.

Canonically had her right arm chopped off, uses a prosthetic. Has PTSD. Is canonically in a WLW relationship.

She has a canon girlfriend and canonically has a prosthetic arm and PTSD

She's canonically sapphic (part of a recently canonised wlw slowburn relationship) and is an amputee (due to events from the 3rd season finale) who wears a robotic prosthetic. She also suffers from PTSD which is explored in the show

Propaganda:

I will keep on submitting Yang to relevant brackets until I die. RWBY has plenty of strengths and weaknesses with writing, especially Yang's recovery arc, but instead of forcing her to push past her trauma and enter the battlefield immediately, we see her struggle with it, take time to process, and not be pushed into repression and when she chooses to wear her prosthetic, chooses to train to ready herself, and chooses to seek out her family and save lives, she isn't perfectly healed, as no one is. The show depicts her having flashbacks due to sudden loud noise, shaking hand the first few times she has to fight for her safety instead of training with her dad, and snapping at friends when they bring up Blake, the person she lost her arm trying to save (who, near immediately after ran away due to feeling she was endangering those she loved, furthering Yang's already present abandonment issues.) It isn't done perfectly but the intentions and general message sent are extremely positive and honest. She struggles less as the show progresses, and there are opportunities to consider herself less for being disabled or "become whole again" but she explicitly refutes these ideas and says that's she's better because of her failures and losses, and isn't any less whole. Her becoming disabled is also extremely tied to her being LGBT, because, as previously mentioned, she lost her arm protecting her then friend and partner, now girlfriend, directly after the villain who cut her arm off told her love interest that he would "destroy everything [she] love[s]. (Camera pans to Yang, he looks at her.) Starting with her." LIKE. He attacked her BECAUSE Blake cared for her so much and Yang ran to her defense blindly BECAUSE she loved Blake so much. When they reunite, they struggle with communication because Yang feels Blake is seeing her as weak, and through several things, mostly a climatic battle against the man who severed Yang's arm, they affirm each other as equals. I can go on but this is already too long. YANG SWEEP!!!!!

Yang lost her arm while protecting her best friend and future girlfriend from said girlfriend's abusive ex. Had a whole arc about learning to live with that loss and dealing with PTSD. Is totally devoted to and in love with Blake Belladonna and is just the sweetest but most badass character in the show.

She's one of the main characters, and just finished a 10 year slow burn romance. Plus, she has both physical and mental disabilities, but is never treated as lesser or incomplete.

Yang Xiao Long was one of the first examples of a sapphic character I ever saw in animated media with her character journey in the show being an iconic part of my teenage years and current young adulthood. The loss of her arm after a traumatic event in the show's 3rd volume was one of the big shockers of the show that nobody saw coming. Since then the show has done an amazing job in exploring both the mental and physical effects of her losing a limb, gaining a prosthetic arm and the recovery journey. Her character also has a major arc regarding handling her PTSD from both this and her past most notably in the 5th and 6th volume. Her character also has a slow-burn romance with her teammate and fellow main character Blake Belladonna which is one of my fave romances ever (it has everything: canon soulmates, friends to lovers, sunshine x grump,battle couple etc..) that has recently became CANON BABIEE!!! There are MULTIPLE characters in RWBY with various disabilities that are handled well in the narrative but i would say Yangs definitely the top FAVE!

Eda Clawthorne-The Owl House

Qualifications:

She has a magical chronic disorder which has flare-ups, is mitigated by taking medication (potions), and has similar side effects to many real disorders such as fatigue, greying hair, and physical impairment (drains magic, a natural ability of *most witches). Unlike in other stories however, her condition is NOT ever completely cured. It does evolve and become more manageable over the course of the story, but she still experiences symptoms from it. Eda also loses one of her arms later in the story. She does get a replacement hook, but it is never shown whether she has a functional prosthetic or not. Most likely, she only has one fully functioning arm after this. As for being queer, she is in a relationship with a nonbinary person and is all but confirmed bisexual (has a secret box with the bi flag on it seriously why else would she have this). Also the owl house has a Lot of queer characters in it and I mean. just look at her. I would be surprised if she wasn't queer somehow.

Bisexual, and has a curse that affects her day to day life

Bi & lost arm and has a chronic illness metaphorically

Propaganda:

Has canonically dated both men and a non-binary person. Her curse affects her ability to use magic (and at one point outright stops it), which is very important in witch life. Said curse also causes her body parts to fall off sometimes. Many have said her curse is like a metaphor for depression but really it's more like a magic version of a physical disability (although I wouldn't be surprised if she actually also had depression).

Uuuuh she’s great and stuff idk I can’t propaganda well sorry

[ylangelegy]

like real people do ☢️ seungcheol x reader.

little is known about the apocalypse of 2017. a century later, archivists are now unveiling the relics they found from those who lived through that time.

★ seungcheol x reader.  ★ word count: 2.1k ★ genre: alternate universe: apocalypse, alternate universe: soulmates (the only way for your scars to disappear is when your soulmate kisses them goodbye), angst, romance. ★ warnings: major character death. depictions of death/violence, injuries/scars. established relationship; suggestive scenes but no real smut. set in a fictional apocalyptic world. doubling down on the angst warning; i cannot say with any certainty that this is a happy ending. ★ footnotes: this is part of my follower milestone event. viv gave me an inch (a request for angsty seungcheol) and, in turn, i am giving her a mile (a whole thing instead of just a ficlet). mahal kita, @heartepub! this will be the last hozier brainrot i offer you— for now. + much thanks to @gyubakeries and @tusswrites for beta reading! love you both to the end of the world. ❤️‍🩹

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ like real people do by hozier. apocalypse by cigarettes after sex. i know the end by phoebe bridgers. fourth of july by sufjan stevens. interlude: i’m not angry anymore by paramore. atlantis by seafret. end of beginning by djo. nobody’s soldier by hozier.

When the fish started dying, you did not think: This is how the world will end.

Why would you? The decimation of marine mammals and seabirds didn’t make the news. The misguided scientific breakthrough that triggered everything was kept under wraps.

It isn’t until much later, until the damage is irreparable and the Rapture is imminent, that you will realize it. 

The world as you know it is ending— but at least you have Seungcheol.

There’s some cruelty in the timing of it all. The two of you had just moved in with each other, coasting on the honeymoon phase of a long-term couple with a new thing to share. The paint on your apartment’s walls had yet to dry when the government declared a state of national emergency.

Dozens of other countries followed suit not long after, all blaming one thing or the other. Food crises. Social unrest. Cultural collapse. 

“This is crazy,” Seungcheol grumbles. 

The television is playing clips of a hurricane tearing through the Philippines. Extreme weather conditions, the reporters are saying. Due to the rise of CO₂ levels. 

You and Seungcheol are sprawled out on the floor, watching it unfold. The furniture store meant to deliver your couch has delayed shipment until further notice. 

Seungcheol has always been the sulky type, though the expression on his face nowadays has been less of his trademark pout and more of a serious frown. You can feel his growing agitation in the stiff way he holds you, in the set of his eyebrows. 

“It’s crazy,” you agree quietly, resting your hand on his knee in a bid to calm him a bit. “But it’ll pass.” 

Your touch seems to give some sort of reprieve. He rolls his shoulders. He unclenches his jaw. 

“It’ll pass,” he echoes, reaching out to intertwine your fingers. 

Neither of you knew just how wrong you could be. 

April 8, 2017 

Weird times. Cheol knows just how anxious I get when I’m cooped up, so he encouraged me to pick up journaling. I’m not sure how much this will help, but it’s worth a try. 

It’s been a month since everything has essentially gone on ‘lockdown’. The news says that all of this started because researchers wanted to regulate harmful algae. Their genetically engineered virus ended up infecting all algae, and now the majority of phytoplankton are just... dead. 

I don’t know what to write about. Terrible oxygen levels? Seafood costing a fortune? This ‘work from home’ system everyone is trying to figure out? 

I guess I should just write about the good stuff. That way, when I look back on these entries, I can remember something good.

Today, Cheol tried to fix a leaking faucet himself instead of calling for a plumber. We flooded the kitchen floor, and ended up wet from head to toe.

I cooked pasta, called mom and dad on Skype, and watched the latest episode of Santa Clarita Diet. 

Once everything opens up again, Cheol and I have to visit my parents. (And ‘get better screwdrivers’, he claims.) 

When Seungcheol first kissed you, you did not think: This man is my soulmate. 

It had been a clumsy, shy thing, traded way back when the two of you were high schoolers still stealing away from your eagle-eyed parents. Seungcheol liked to wax poetics about how it was perfect even though you know that first kiss was more a clash of teeth than anything. 

You don’t discover the truth of everything until a couple of years into dating. Seungcheol had gotten into playing basketball, and, one evening, you absentmindedly pressed your lips to a scar he had at the bend of his elbow. 

The mark smoothed out instantly. 

Seungcheol had giggled at the development before spending the rest of the night kissing every inch of your skin that he could reach— injured or not. You still think it’s one of your best memories as a couple. 

Kisses that healed scars. You hadn’t believed in the stories yourself until it had happened to you, until you realized how fortunate you were that your soulmate wasn’t halfway across the world or something. No, you had your soulmate, and he was more than willing to kiss away all your wounds. 

You had counted yourself as lucky. You still think you are, even now, as Seungcheol strokes your hair and holds you to his chest in the pitch black darkness of your apartment. 

His voice is quiet and small when he speaks up. “I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” you mutter back. 

“I’m sure this isn’t what you imagined,” he says. “For us moving in together and everything.” 

An amused snort escapes you. Of course that would be your boyfriend’s concern. There’s the rotational power outages and the merciless prices of goods due to inflation, but Seungcheol is worried about your expectations not being met. 

You shift in his hold. The days have been getting warmer and warmer, and the evenings are no exception. Seungcheol has taken to sleeping shirtless. You’re a couple of celsius away from doing the same. 

“It’s not your fault that we decided to move in together for the end times,” you say into the skin of his bare chest. 

He gives the small of your back a light thwack. “What have I said about the apocalypse jokes?” he chides lightly. 

You roll your eyes. He shouldn’t see it in the darkness, but he knows you all too well. “And don’t roll your eyes at me!”

His reprimand draws a short laugh from you. Even that feels like a monumental effort, like it's a waste of good air. 

Seungcheol doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the two of you waking up in pools of your own sweat, doesn’t care that there are whole government newscasts on how to preserve oxygen in enclosed spaces. 

He holds you like a lifeline and kisses you until you’re breathless. 

“Cheol,” you whine against his mouth, the protest already at the tip of your tongue. The end is near; sex should be the last thing on your mind. 

But then Seungcheol’s fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, and he sounds so, so sweet when he mumbles, “Yes, soulmate?” 

That’s always gotten to you. 

“Unfair,” you groan as you work on shucking off your own clothes. “You’re so unfair.” 

In between giggles, he kisses every part of you. Again, and again, and again. 

June 15, 2017 

Cheol and I are on the run. 

He keeps telling me not to call it that because it supposedly makes us sound like criminals. I think it’s just funny, and God knows I need something to find humor in. 

As badly as I want to say “we have gone through worse before,” that would be a lie. We’re out of our apartment and trying to make our way to some place where there’s better air quality. In the meantime, we’re living out of his car. It’s so funny to me that I’ve started laughing until I’m crying. 

Anyway, the good stuff: Today’s sunset painted the sky purple. We snagged some still-cold cans of Sprite in an abandoned 7-Eleven. Cheol spotted a family of ducks crossing the road, pointed it out, and said “us, soon!”

Us, soon. It feels dangerous to hope, but that’s all I seem to do nowadays. That and being on the run. (Cheol made me strike out that last part, but whatever.) 

When Seungcheol finally admits to you that he is scared, you did not think: This means that things are much, much worse than I thought. 

Maybe because there were bigger concerns, like the car’s blinking fuel warning light and the scratches littering Seungcheol’s arms. Like the fool that he was, he had gone against your well-meaning advice to not look for help. 

He did not return unscathed. 

Your lips are pursed in a thin line as you rip open a Band-Aid. It’s one of the few that the two of you have left, and Seungcheol seems to remember the fact. He reaches out to stop you. 

“Hey, c’mon,” he urges, obviously trying to aim for levity. “You know there’s other ways we can fix me up, right?”

The frown that tugs at your lips shows that you’re still less-than-pleased at his little stunt. 

“Maybe if you didn’t head out in the first place,” you grumble. “We wouldn’t need any of this.” 

Seungcheol looks like he might push back, but seems to decide against it at the last minute. Instead, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and gives you a gentle tug. 

“It won’t happen again.” His tone is edged with remorse, enough to almost convince you. Almost. 

“No more playing hero?” you ask. 

A corner of his lip twitches upward. “No more playing hero,” he concedes before tugging at you again. 

You let him. You move closer into his space until you’re practically in his lap, until you’ve got a better view of the angry red cuts on his skin. 

Tentatively, you press chaste kisses to the injuries. Seungcheol’s hands find purchase at your waist and he tilts his head back, letting you work your magic. He’s quiet as your lips trace over each gash and wound, as you take away all the hurt with the ghost of a kiss. 

After a moment, he mumbles, “Is it bad that I want you right now?” 

“Seungcheol.” 

“Okay, okay.” A beat. “I want you all the time, actually.” 

“Shut up!”

The sound of his laughter fills the car. It’s enough to have you forgetting his murmured confession of fear, the vulnerability that he had tried so quickly to cover up with affection. For a moment, there is nothing else in the world except this, except you, except him. 

September 23, 2017

Is it weird to say that I’m starting to forget what it was like before all of this happened? Cheol is trying to assure me that it’s to be expected, that we’ll all be back to ‘normal’ soon, but I don’t even remember what normal is like anymore. 

I can’t forget. I don’t want to forget. And so here is a small list of things I took for granted: 

The first breeze that tells you winter is coming 

The kindness of people who don’t know you 

The smallest fish in the sea

Date nights with Cheol 

Clean water 

Breakfast

My parents

Cheol says there might be some biodomes ahead. Oxygen-regulated habitats. It sounds like something only the rich can afford. We don’t have a lot left between the two of us, and it’s getting harder to jump from building to building. 

But there’s something waiting for us on the other side— right? There has to be. 

May the best of my todays be the worst of my tomorrows. 

When the gunshot rang out, you did not think: This is it.

Seungcheol never gave you any reason to think that way. He had held your hand as you raided rundown grocery stores. He had positioned himself in front of you when there were stampedes. The world might have been ending, but he was with you.

He was with you even when the strangers you ran into started getting more aggressive. He was with you even when fights would break out over necessities like water and medicine. 

“People are dangerous when they're desperate,” he’d tell you softly— still his rational, kind self even when faced with the worst of mankind.

He was with you. He was kind. He was yours. 

Even when the bullet lodged itself right between his ribs. 

There is not much that you remember after that. 

The people dispersed. The cause of the fight— a can of chicken noodle soup, once your comfort food— lay forgotten on the floor.

The love of your life, staring unblinking at the sky.

When you sink to the ground, you’re moving purely on instinct. Your quivering lips press over his chest, over the red blossoming and staining his shirt. 

You kiss him. Again.

And again. 

And again. 

December 1, 2017

The kisses don’t work on bullet wounds. 

▸ Archivist’s note: The following entries are undated and some portions had been redacted/deemed untranscribable. We are led to believe that the author struggled to cope in the aftermath of their soulmate’s death. For posterity, we have still reprinted their final entries.

You’re so unfair. 

I still want you. 

Things I took for granted: ███████, you, ███████, youyouyou. 

What now? 

My love, it’s only a matter of ███████—

▸ Archivist’s note: Nothing follows.

This concludes our transcribed logs. The full collection can be viewed at the National Museum of Remembrance.

It is our deepest regret that the author is unnamed and that they cannot be properly credited. However, we know of two things with certainty. 

We know of a man named Seungcheol, and we know that he was loved. 

[oceanicwriting]

black book.

summary: falling in love with lorenzo berkshire was totally forbidden, but... what kind of story would your life be if you don't end up madly in love with him? although there is much more hidden under his sexual practices that end up releasing a part of you that he had never seen.

pairing(s): lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

a/n: this ended up being so long that i didn't check it twice... sorry if there are errors, at some point i will give it another go, promise. btw, this was inspired by a tiktok i saw two days ago about this black book thing. hope you like it!

+18 smut (a little), oral sex/sit on my face (f!receiving), masturbation (f!receiving), fingering, teasing, mention and use of drugs, smoking, fuck buddies, cursing

ㅤㅤㅤ every woman knew, from the first moment they accept lorenzo berkshire between their legs, that everything that will happen would be strictly sexual and no more than one night. many had tried to change that, but he was a man of his word. at least he was with all the other girls who have been under his domain because you were too special for that. how could he even think about forgetting the best sex he had ever had in a closet in the hallways?

ㅤㅤㅤ since then, you've met more times than you can count, under the strict law of not crossing the romantic. at first, a little biased by the disgusting rumors about him, you thought it was a safe plan. and it was... for a while. when he started asking you to spend the nights with him, send you surprise notes, talk in the moonlight and all kinds of things, your heart became an incurable weakling.

ㅤㅤㅤ are you in love with lorenzo womanizer berkshire? of course you are.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what do you think of this one? —you look at your friend's dress, who walks around the room, swaying her hips—. i feel like it's not that short...

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at the end of the dress almost certain that if she sit down anywhere her ass would be exposed to the world.

ㅤㅤㅤ —of course, i forgot that the shorter the dress, the faster zabini fucks you, —you mumble with a hint of sarcasm in your voice.ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ your friend throws a piece of clothing from the floor, laughing nervously at the comment and insulting you between murmurs.

ㅤㅤㅤ when she turns her attention back to looking for another dress, you let yourself fall on the bed, releasing all the air that you have trapped since last night. in your mind, you had repeated the events over and over again, trying to connect some things but failing miserably in the attempt.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what's wrong with you? every time we go to a snake party, you're jumping on one leg. did something happen with berkshire yesterday?

ㅤㅤㅤ the mere mention of his name sends a chilling wave through your body. you deny it, but your friend knew something had happened. the last few times you hadn't come back from being with him until the next morning, and last night you had come back early, slamming the door in your way in.

ㅤㅤㅤ —liar. —she comes over to sit with you on the bed—. come on, tell me.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo was a boy from another world in bed. he knew perfectly how to use a woman's body to please her desires, taking advantage of the situation to satisfy his own pleasure. he was fully aware of how to squeeze, bite, lick, or caress so that anyone could bend to his charm. and he had bent you in every way, body and soul.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you have to promise not to tell your crush about this —you say, lifting a pinky that your friend wraps around hers in a promise—. i found a black book in lorenzo’s room yesterday. it was a small leather notebook with a silver L on the front. i hadn’t really given it much thought, but he got so weird when he saw it in my hands. he was… tense like never before.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you couldn’t see anything inside?

ㅤㅤㅤ you shake your head and say—: i just wasn’t interested. i thought it was a notebook for class or something, but he got so mad that i doubt it.

ㅤㅤㅤ —that’s weird…

ㅤㅤㅤ your friend doesn’t want you to think about it too much and tries to make you forget about it with drinks straight from the bottle of alcohol she hides under the bed. that was the only fun you had all night because lorenzo disappeared with one of your classmates, and your friend got lost among the crowd.

ㅤㅤㅤ the next day, right after you wake up, your friend walks into the room, looking disheveled. when she notices you're awake, it seems like a memory hits the back of her mind, and her green gaze looks like it's about to explode.

ㅤㅤㅤ you laugh and ask—: what hap...?

ㅤㅤㅤ she shushes you, throwing her bag onto the bed and searching for something amongst the makeup that falls against your messy sheets.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what the...? —in her hands is that black leather book with the shiny silver L sending out sparkles from the morning light reflection—. what did you do?

ㅤㅤㅤ —when blaise and i wanted to find a place to... —she trails off, painting her cheeks red—. you don't need those details, got it. the thing is, we went to the wrong room, and before we left, i saw the book on the desk. no one knows i have it, i swear on my parents.

ㅤㅤㅤ the book has a lot of full pages, losing the neatness of the empty ones at the end. there are entire minutes when you doubt whether to open it, but the curiosity running through your body is inevitable to feel.

ㅤㅤㅤ —so? —your friend asks, forcing you to look up at her—. are you going to open it or not?

ㅤㅤㅤ the first page has black book written in capital letters and lorenzo’s initials just below it. the next page has a small table that takes you two seconds to understand.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what is that?

ㅤㅤㅤ —they look like scores —you say, showing your friend the table.

ㅤㅤㅤ —scores? scores for what?

ㅤㅤㅤ and right below it, there was a list with three points, but the most important one was the one that gets stuck in your mind.

ㅤㅤㅤ —scores for sex.

ㅤㅤㅤ your friend looks at you, noticing the terrible mistake she made by bringing the book to you. she tries to take it from your hands, but you don't let her, and you start to slowly turn the pages. there were names of classmates, girls who have talked to you once, girls you don't know, and others girls you could remember in the back of your mind. and there was your name crossed out, but still visible with a five next to it. in that book, you were either a regular muggle or the worst of them all.

ㅤㅤㅤ —this was a terrible idea —your friend says, finally taking the book from you—. a horrible idea.

ㅤㅤㅤ but you can't speak because your heart has tightened so much that it leaves you breathless and unruly tears fall down your eyes. all you can think about is how pathetic you must look, crying over a man who made it clear from the first moment that you shouldn't fall in love.

ㅤㅤㅤ it had been a week since you discovered lorenzo's big secret. you could have chosen many paths to destroy him, but you made the cowardly decision to avoid him at all costs. he had tried to communicate with you through notes, appearing in the bedroom at any time of the day or chasing you through the halls. and yet, you didn't feel like facing him.

ㅤㅤㅤ when the night came, you always had the three same questions. hadn't he searched your body more than once? did you hear wrong when he repeated between grunts that you were doing perfectly? ​​why did he cum so fast when you wrapped your mouth around his cock? it was strange and disgusting that, after seeing all those names, your concern was centered on the small detail of a score.

ㅤㅤㅤ now you were sitting between a couple of people at a party that your friend had insisted you should be at. you felt calm, comfortable, and were having a great time. until the fun in your eyes fades when, walking through the door with a triumphant air, he appears. lorenzo berkshire would be your downfall for a long time, and you knew it very well.

ㅤㅤㅤ —hey, no. —you hear your friend's voice behind you, but your body is on autopilot, designed to escape—. enough of running away, okay? the girl i've known since i was ten never runs from jerks because she wears that skirt well and makes them suffer.

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at her, then at the crowd. if lorenzo was any other selfless boy, you would have taken revenge as you well know, but he was not that. he had removed any sanity within your loving heart, and you were not sure about playing with something as fragile as that.

ㅤㅤㅤ —no. i...

ㅤㅤㅤ —no, you do —your friend says, pulling your arm to get onto the improvised dance floor with a big smile—. you and i are going to have the best night of our lives.

ㅤㅤㅤ you drink alcohol, dance among people, smoke marijuana, and laugh with faces you can’t remember. you were having such a good time that you can only now sit down laughing out loud at a joke your friend had told.

ㅤㅤㅤ —oh, let me get more alcohol —she says, losing her balance as she gets up from her chair—. oops.

ㅤㅤㅤ you follow his figure from your seat, and there he is. lorenzo is dancing close to a girl in the middle of the crowd. just seeing him ignites a wave of rage that feeds off of all the toxins you’ve taken up until that point. and you think in the midst of lucidity that maybe you could do your thing to make him angry... just a little.

ㅤㅤㅤ you look for some boy who can get your attention so you don't feel repulsed by his touch and you find him. in a corner, smoking a joint on his own, is a boy with fine features. it was the perfect moment, perfect man and perfect opportunity.

ㅤㅤㅤ when you get up, walking among the people, you purposely bump into the body of the girl who clings to lorenzo's shoulders. you apologize with a soft smile that doesn't fade from your face when you feel the boy's eyes linger on your figure contouring as you walk.

ㅤㅤㅤ when you arrive with your prey, you greet him with a more seductive voice than you expected, but it has the effect you wanted. it doesn't take you any time to have the boy in the palm of your hand, between jokes and white lies, you manage to have his fingers on your legs with a delicacy that could melt you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —do you want to go somewhere else? —it's the voice of the boy sitting next to you, speaking close to your ear. you look at the crowd in search of lorenzo, but you can't find him—. i don't think i can hold back the urge to touch you under that dress anymore.

ㅤㅤㅤ you laugh and, the truth is, you didn't dislike the idea of ​​rolling around with this cute stranger either. of course, if he wasn't violently attacked by lorenzo's friends, starting a fight that no one can stop. it's impressive how screams, pushes, or swear words take center stage so quickly.

ㅤㅤㅤ —walk. —even though it's just one word, you know exactly who that voice is, pulling you towards the bedroom stairs.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo's quick steps blur your vision, but you try to stay awake with the soft scent of his cologne hitting your nose. when you reach your room, you can't help but sit up in bed, trying to catch your breath and clear your mind to become aware of what will happen now.

ㅤㅤㅤ when you can lift your head, lorenzo is standing right in front of you. he has his arms crossed on his chest, dark gaze, and waits for you to start some kind of conversation. a wave of heat hits every part of your body, uneasy from the gesture of his tongue pushing the inside of his cheek. oh, he was so angry.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what? —you ask, getting up from the bed, trying to avoid him noticing the stumble you've made in your own steps.

ㅤㅤㅤ —aren't you going to say anything?

ㅤㅤㅤ you turn to see him, pretending not to understand with a small gesture of confusion, managing to feed his anger as you wanted.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you ignore me all fucking week and now you let someone else fuck you in front of everyone. —he lets out a cynical laugh and claps angrily—. oh! surprise, despite everything, the lady has nothing to say.

ㅤㅤㅤ you try not to laugh at how funny his voice sounds in your head.

ㅤㅤㅤ —my problem if i want to fuck someone in front of everyone. why do you care, lorenzo? and he was just touching a little. tasting...

ㅤㅤㅤ you hear him, his four strong footsteps that shorten the distance with you. it's the scent of her perfume that you catch first, turning on some parts of your body. you can't deny that his demanding gaze also wreaks havoc on your stomach, and memories of all the times you've been together play through your head at an imperceptible speed.

ㅤㅤㅤ —we're not exclusive, remember?

ㅤㅤㅤ you expected those words to hurt him, but it seems they only manage to sink the thorn into your own heart, causing a pain that hasn't been felt so intense for a week. all because of that stupid black book.

ㅤㅤㅤ —and, after all, i'm nothing more than a muggle worth five points. —and it seems that hurts him, because he steps back, destabilized and obfuscated—. how long do you think it was going to take me to discover it? maybe you're used to taking them to your room once or never, but i've been to that fucking place, i don't know... fifty times?

ㅤㅤㅤ —how did you know?

ㅤㅤㅤ —that doesn't matter. do you know how disgusting i felt after knowing that? rating girls for their performance in bed? are you sixteen fucking years old?!

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo grabs your arm tightly, pushing you against the bed and preventing any movement with the weight of his body on top. your breathing hits at the movement, feeling dizzy again.

ㅤㅤㅤ —listen, it's not what you think.

ㅤㅤㅤ his voice, so clear and firm, different from the blurry image of that moment. it's hilarious that he wants to keep thinking you're stupid, as if you were exactly what his book says.

ㅤㅤㅤ —are you telling me that i lack reading comprehension? honestly, lorenzo, i'm impressed by how much you underestimate me and... —the laugh that had been stuck leaves your lips like music to the boy's ears—. you know what? fuck it.

ㅤㅤㅤ the leg that was trapped between his rises, giving a sharp blow against his crotch. your hands push his chest, turning in the bed to straddle him.

ㅤㅤㅤ —a five, enzo? —he looks at you, breathing heavily from the wave of torment affecting his body—. weren't you the one who was going after my body? did i hear wrong when you told me that i was doing it just the way you want? why did you seem to enjoy it when i'm a fucking five?

ㅤㅤㅤ yes, it was unpleasant to put scores, but in your chest was a much bigger pain. you like lorenzo. you are madly in love with him and that clouds every other sense in your head. you wanted to be a twenty, fifty or top score for him. you wanted to be enough. you wanted to be the only woman in his power. you wanted to change the immovable.

ㅤㅤㅤ —beautiful... —his hand tries to touch your cheek decorated with small tears.

ㅤㅤㅤ your body reacts by instinct, hitting his arm to press it against the bed, avoiding any touch that could make you lose the courage you have accumulated.

ㅤㅤㅤ —why, lorenzo?

ㅤㅤㅤ if there was something he hated was seeing sad tears running down your face, being enough to say—: i'm not the only one with a book like that. we compare scores, bet on it, and all kinds of things. i just... i didn't want them to know.

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at him, noticing the honesty in his eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you didn't want them to know what?

ㅤㅤㅤ he smirks, looking at your body with lust. every curve, every place that only he knew, every trace of his marks that have disappeared, and every area that he could touch to make you roll in pleasure. lorenzo knew every little detail of your body with such precision that it was inevitable for him not to imagine you naked.

ㅤㅤㅤ —how amazing you are in bed.

ㅤㅤㅤ and you could blame many things for the events that happen after that. you'd say it was his deep voice that scratched your insides, messy hair that falls on the duvet or disheveled clothes. some might believe when you blame the alcohol, but there was someone in the whole world who would always know the truth. you.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo buries his hands in your hips, pushing you against his body to grab your lips with a delicious habit. the taste of alcohol in his mouth is the same as yours, intense and hot. your hips move with the help of his hands that squeeze just the way you like. you let him dominate the situation of that kiss until a fleeting memory comes back to your head.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i want you to use your mouth —you murmur against his lips—. i want you to use it so you can't use it on anyone else.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo looks at you, trying to turn on the bed to do what you ask. the problem is that your body tenses at the intention, and he looks at you with confusion.

ㅤㅤㅤ —not like that.

ㅤㅤㅤ you pull your panties off to stop your pussy right in front of his face. the simple breath of lorenzo hitting your folds makes you shudder, but you know he has to suffer like never before. so, when he makes the gesture of getting closer to your wetness, your fingers tangle in his hair, pressing his head against the bed.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i want to hear that you want it. i want you to beg.

ㅤㅤㅤ it was always lorenzo who dominated in the relationship. you enjoyed it that way, but today, there was a rage inside you that was as uncontrollable as the wave of ecstasy that runs through your body when you talk to him that way. you wanted to make him feel so small that he would be the one to beg to come back this time.

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at him, part of his face covered by the black skirt and gaze lit up in flames. the hot, heavy air crashing against you was perfect, sending desperate signals to your eager and needy body.

ㅤㅤㅤ —let me devour you. i want to lick and suck until i can't take it anymore. please, just, please...

ㅤㅤㅤ and your pussy presses against his lips, holding part of your weight with the headboard of the bed and legs. lorenzo doesn't take long to do what he had asked, stimulating your clitoris with the tip of his expert tongue. you moan at the tickling sensations that travel from there, moving your hips gently against him.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo kisses, sucks, and licks as best he can against the weight of your body on top of him, raising his eyes over your skirt to watch you arch your back every time his tongue gets close to your entrance. his hands move up to your breasts, where one stops to squeeze over your shirt and the other continues its way to your mouth.

ㅤㅤㅤ —do you wanna s-see how i do it? —you say, looking down at him and sticking your tongue out to lick his fingers—. i always imagine it’s your cock.

ㅤㅤㅤ his fingers sink into your mouth so deeply that it’s impossible not to gasp. your tongue licks, curling and tasting the length of his long digits. when lorenzo is satisfied with that, he moves his hand from your back to your entrance.

ㅤㅤㅤ —w-wait, j-just wait a little —you say between soft moans—. i need you to go down a little.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo does so, making you shiver from the new sensation that builds up in that perfect area. then, you feel his fingers digging in in the perfect direction to touch a spot that activates thousands of waves of pleasure.

ㅤㅤㅤ his fingers going in and out quickly, while his mouth continues to stimulate you, was enough to make your legs feel weak. the accumulation of emotions that are trying to be released with moans explodes in an electric current that travels from head to toe, cutting off the air that enters your lungs, making you scream and fall against lorenzo's face pressed against your thighs.

ㅤㅤㅤ he grabs your ass and manages to turn with his head still buried between them. you can feel the tip of his tongue wander over your sensitive areas again. suffer, suffer and suffer.

ㅤㅤㅤ —stop. —one of your feet pushes his shoulder, making him look at you confused—. will you burn that book?

ㅤㅤㅤ your hands play with your shirt, lowering the neckline to free your breasts in front of him. lorenzo's gaze darkens, and he follows your hand to the inside of your thighs.

ㅤㅤㅤ —beautiful...

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo licks his lips, feeling his cock tremble in the desire to bury itself so hard and deep inside you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —would you do it to feel how my tight pussy takes you? would you do it so you could enter me whenever and however you want?

ㅤㅤㅤ a wave of pleasure runs through your body at the sensation of your own fingers touching the places that make you moan in front of him. lorenzo was slowly losing his sanity, and you could see it in his eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤ —yes, i will. i'll do whatever you want with that book —he says, his voice dragging out the words because of the rush with which he says them—. i will.

ㅤㅤㅤ and from one moment to the next, even if you're not sure how, you're out of bed with lorenzo staring at you as hard as the bulge in his pants about to explode. you don't let that weaken you, adjusting your clothes in seconds.

ㅤㅤㅤ —good. perfect, really. —he follows your body to the door with the bad mood sprouting from every pore of his skin—. then we can finish this when you do it right in front of my eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what?

ㅤㅤㅤ —what you heard —you say, sliding a soft smile on your lips—. when i see that ridiculous book in pieces, you can finish what we started. now, get out of my fucking room and close the door on your way out.

ㅤㅤㅤ your body disappears behind the bathroom door, where you hear him call your name angrily, and he leaves the room shortly after. if he hadn't given up, you were sure you would have, so you're thankful he did it first.

ㅤㅤㅤ the surprise is that lorenzo came back minutes later with the book in one hand and his wand in the other, turning the book on fire right in front of your eyes to turn you into a rag of moans, licks, thrusts and marks. not many things could change about this relationship now, but you know that lorenzo might be a little more in love with you than it seems.

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Series summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.

Series masterlist

"Okay, recap moment," you began, sitting at a table in the café with Rick, Folio, and Grace, the sun beginning to set outside and filling the room with hues of red and orange.

"Ever since Jason came back to town, he’s wanted to win you back," Rick explained again after taking a slow sip from his coffee, his voice tinged with guilt. "And he asked for my help, because apparently I’m his only friend."

"So, the psycho has been trying to get your attention all this time," Folio interjected, "and when Noah left for a couple of days, he thought it was the perfect opportunity to do something that would drive a wedge between you two."

"So, he had you leave him," you pointed to Rick, "in front of Noah’s house after he got drunk, knowing that the next morning, Noah would find him there and think I'd cheated on him."

Rick lowered his eyes, unable to meet your gaze. "Yeah... that was exactly what he was hoping for. He knew Noah would be hurt, and he knew that would push him away from you."

"Noah didn’t want to listen to what you had to say because he thought what happened with Hannah was about to happen again. And now, he feels awful because he thinks it's his fault—like he can’t keep someone who loves him around," Folio continued.

"And you feel guilty because if you had realized Jason’s intentions sooner, maybe you could have stopped this from happening," Rick added, concluding the chain of events.

"Wow," Grace remarked. "I still have so many questions."

"Yeah, me too," Rick agreed. "Like, why are you even still here? You had nothing to do with any of this."

"Hey! I work here too, okay?" Grace shot back. "I have every right to stay as long as I want."

“So,” you turned to Folio, disregarding the bickering between the punk guy and your friend, or whoever Grace was to you, “what do you think I should do?”

"Go to him," Folio urged. "Talk things through. Please. I can’t keep watching him like this. I don’t think he’s showered in two weeks."

Grace wrinkled her nose.

"I'm sorry," Rick apologized. "If I hadn’t helped Jason, maybe none of this would have happened."

"Well, that’s how things played out," you replied. "And there’s no turning back."

"But things can still be fixed if you both put aside your fears and have a real conversation," Grace encouraged.

Folio leaned back in his chair, his gaze softening. "Exactly. It might not be easy, but if you want to fix things, this is where it starts."

"I’m not sure he wants to talk to me," you said, your voice uncertain as you stared down at the table, trying to sort through your swirling thoughts.

Grace looked at you, her expression a mix of frustration and concern. "Oh, please!" she exclaimed, leaning forward onto the table. "We know he loves you, and you love him. And it’s so obvious you both are suffering now! If you go to him and tell him everything was part of Jason’s plan, and that his weird friend here explained how things really went down, he’ll listen. I promise you!"

Rick shook his head, smirking but with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Hey, weird friend to who, Barbie with black hair?"

Grace just rolled her eyes.

Folio sighed, but his voice grew more serious. "Look, trust me. Go to him, tomorrow. It’s been two weeks, and he’s starting to realize he let you go just because he was too scared. You can’t just sit around waiting for him to make the first move because he won't. He's in a depressive mood right now."

A silence fell for a moment as you thought about their words. Folio's eyes were sincere, and for a brief second, it felt like there was still a chance to fix things. You took a deep breath, the weight of the decision settling over you.

Finally, you nodded. "Okay," you said softly, "I’ll do it."

After Grace and Folio left, you and Rick stood outside the café, the cool evening air pressing against you as the sunset faded into the night. The streets were quieter now, the hum of the city barely reaching you.

Rick shifted uncomfortably, his hands in his pockets as he avoided your gaze. "I… I’m sorry," he said finally, his voice low. "I know you probably hate me right now for helping Jason, for being his friend. I know what I did was wrong. But he was the only friend I ever had, you know? And I just... I always did what he asked, because I didn’t want to lose him. I thought if I kept helping him, I’d prove I was a good friend. But looking at it now, I see I was just blinded by that need to belong. I'm so fucking stupid."

You were silent for a moment, taking in what he said. It didn’t make you angry. Instead, a sense of understanding washed over you. You shook your head gently. "I’m not mad at you, Rick," you said softly. "I don’t think you’re a bad person. You just... you need better friends. Friends who aren’t going to pull you into things like this. Friends who won’t take advantage of your loyalty."

Rick’s shoulders slumped as if a weight had been lifted, but there was still a trace of guilt on his face. "I don’t deserve your forgiveness," he muttered.

"You don’t have to deserve it," you replied with a small smile. "People make mistakes. What matters is what we do after." You paused for a moment, thinking carefully about the next words you wanted to say. "You can come see me, us, at the café anytime. If you ever need to talk, or just... hang out. I'm sure Noah would like you too, you know? You punched Jason, after all."

He looked up at you, his eyes slightly wide, as if your words were a relief he hadn’t expected. "Thanks. Really. I know I messed up, but I’m done following Jason. I’ve made my choice."

You nodded. "I’m glad to hear that."

Rick smiled, though it was a little uncertain at first. "I’ll come by sometime."

As you both turned to leave, you gave Rick one last look. "Thanks again, Rick. Take care."

And with that, you parted ways, but not with the same weight on your shoulders you had carried earlier. Things could get better—for both of you.

Noah sat on the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, trying his best to smile as he tickled Luna, her giggles filling the air. It was a soft sound, the kind of laughter that once brought him a sense of peace, but now it felt like a distant memory.

He tried to focus on her, on her innocent joy, but the weight of everything pressing on him still felt unbearable. He could hardly summon the energy to keep up with her playful energy.

"Daddy! Knights don’t tickle princesses!” she said, holding up a finger as if to emphasize her point as she laughed.

"Oh really? So why am I doing that now?"

"Because you are a bad knight, daddy!"

Noah let go and finally dropped his hands to his sides, letting the kid breathe.

Luna, her tiny hands gripping his arm as she attempted to climb onto his lap, paused for a moment and looked at him with her big, innocent eyes. She tilted her head to one side, sensing that something was off. "Daddy," she said in her small, soft voice, "will Y/N come today?"

The question hit Noah like a punch to the stomach. He froze for a second, trying to think, his chest tightening as his mind raced for an answer. How could he explain this to her? How could he possibly tell his three-year-old daughter that the woman who had been a constant presence in their lives, the woman he had loved, was gone and might never return?

He forced a smile as he moved some strands of hair from her little chubby face, but it felt hollow. "No, sweetie," he said softly, trying to keep the sadness from his voice. "Y/N won't be coming here for a while."

Luna’s face fell for a moment, and Noah’s heart twisted at the sight. She didn’t understand, not fully. But she could already feel the absence. She blinked and then asked, her voice so innocent and hopeful, "Oh, is she on vacation?"

Noah nodded slowly, trying to hold it together. He swallowed hard, not knowing what else to say. "Yeah," he replied quietly. "She’s on vacation."

Luna seemed to accept that answer, her small face brightening again, and Noah couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. Was he lying to her? He didn’t know. But he couldn’t tell her the truth. Not yet. Not when he was still trying to figure it all out himself.

“Oh,” Luna said, her voice soft and wistful. “I wish I could go with her. I want to see the mountains with Y/N.”

Noah’s heart broke a little more as she spoke, the simple, innocent wish from his daughter ringing in his ears.

He looked down at her, her eyes filled with that pure, untainted hope, and he could feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. He wished things were different, wished he could turn back time and make the mess he had created disappear. But all he could do now was nod, his voice filled with emotion as he replied, “Yeah… me too.”

His gaze fell on the beaded bracelet on his wrist, the bracelet Luna had made with you. She seemed so happy when she gave it to him, saying that you and she had one similar too that Noah couldn't say no. He wondered where you put yours. If it was lying forgotten at the bottom of a trash can or if he was on your wrist too and if you were thinking about him like he was thinking about you looking at it.

The pink was an extreme contrast to his tattoos in a way that made him smile and made his skin burn at the same time.

Luna didn’t seem to sense the weight of his words. Instead, she smiled brightly, her small hands gripping his shirt as she pulled herself closer to him. “Maybe when Y/N comes back, we can all go to the mountains together, Daddy. And see bears.”

Noah’s throat tightened, and he could barely choke out a laugh. "Maybe," he said quietly, his voice breaking just a little. “Maybe we can.”

That late evening, you were at home, the wind outside picking up, howling against the windows.

But then, through the noise, you heard something else—faint, almost drowned out by the gusts of wind. It was a soft whimpering sound. You froze, wondering if you’d imagined it. Another sound followed, louder this time, and it was unmistakable.

You quickly made your way to the door, heart racing. Was someone out there? You opened the door cautiously. The wind whipped around you, but you could make out something small huddling near the porch steps.

A tiny, scruffy ball of fur, sat there looking up at you. You bent down, your breath catching in your throat. A small puppy—probably only a few months old—was staring up at you with big, wide eyes, the color of dark amber. The fur on its body was matted and dirty, but you could tell that, despite its appearance, it wasn’t in horrible condition. It was skinny, too, ribs showing a bit too much through its dirty fur but it didn’t seem too malnourished.

You crouched down, reaching out cautiously, speaking in a soft voice, “Hey there, little one… where did you come from?” The puppy didn’t flinch, but tilted its head at you, studying you curiously, its little tail flicking.

“Do you have a home?” you asked again, more gently this time, hoping it could understand. It just stared at you, unblinking, before it started to shuffle forward, its paws making soft noises on the porch.

“Well, I guess you don’t have a place to go, do you?” you sighed, your heart already melting at the sight of the poor thing. The puppy continued its advance, slowly squeezing between your legs and making its way into the house. You blinked, surprised, but then a soft laugh escaped you.

“Okay, I guess you've already decided where you're going to stay,” you said with a smile, closing the door behind you. You watched the little creature wander inside.

You paused for a moment, your mind spinning with what to do next. You glanced around the small space, eyes landing on the kitchen. Your fridge. Maybe there was something you could feed it.

Opening the fridge, you found some leftover chicken, cooked and ready to go. Without hesitation, you grabbed it, placing it down on a plate for the pup. You watched as the little dog immediately pounced on the food, devouring it in a matter of seconds, the sound of its chewing filling in the silence of the house.

As the dog finished, you crouched down beside it, rubbing its back, and you finally understood the puppy was a male. “What now, little one? You just going to stay here with me?” you asked, your voice soft.

The dog responded with a loud, excited bark, his tail wagging furiously as he jumped up in front of you, as if to say “Yes, please!”

You chuckled lightly. “Guess that’s a yes,” you smiled, patting the puppy’s head.

“Alright then, you can stay with me for now.”

Without thinking twice, you picked the little thing up, holding him carefully in your arms as you carried him toward the bathroom.

You turned on the tap, filling the bathtub with warm water, and carefully set the puppy down.

You took your time, softly scrubbing the dirt out of his brown and black fur.

Just as you were finishing up, the puppy suddenly shook his body, spraying water everywhere. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, the tiny creature soaking your clothes and the bathroom floor, but you didn’t mind. The laugh felt good, like a release, like a bit of normalcy in the chaos that had surrounded you lately.

“You really know how to make a mess, huh?” you said, wiping your face with the back of your hand as the dog looked up at you, his fur dripping wet and his expression utterly adorable.

After a few more moments, you helped the puppy out of the tub and wrapped it in a towel, rubbing it gently to dry it off. He seemed to enjoy the attention, snuggling into the towel as if it had finally found a safe place. You sat on the floor with him for some moments.

Then, you looked down at the tiny creature, now dry and warm, curled up on the towel beside you, his little eyes closing in contentment. “You're a good boy,” you said softly, smiling as the puppy let out a quiet yawn.

That night, he whined until you picked him up and let him sleep in the bed with you, his body pressed close to yours, keeping you almost as warm as Noah's had.

The next morning, before going to the café, you left enough food and water around for the dog before heading out, promising to think of a suitable name for him.

When you were at work, it had started raining, and when you stepped out of the coffee shop during the afternoon, it hadn't stopped yet.

The cold rain immediately soaked through your clothes as you reached your car.

The city streets were slick with water, and the dull hum of distant thunder echoed in the sky, but you barely noticed. Your mind was consumed with the need to reach Noah. You had to. You had already waited too much.

You got in, slammed the door, and turned the key. Nothing. You tried again. And again. The engine sputtered but refused to start, the engine light flashing mockingly at you in the dark interior. Your heart sank. You cursed under your breath and tried once more, but the car just refused to cooperate. It was as if the universe itself had decided that this was not the night for you to see Noah, that fate was conspiring against you, and all the progress you'd just made would come crashing down.

"This is ridiculous," you muttered, staring helplessly at the wheel. Frustration surged inside you, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. The rain was pouring harder now, and everything felt like it was falling apart.

But then, in that moment of frustration, something shifted inside you. You wiped your damp face with the back of your hand and exhaled, steadying yourself. This wasn’t the end, not yet. You weren’t going to give up this easily.

Noah was waiting for you. Even if maybe he didn’t know that. You couldn’t afford to let something as trivial as a car breaking down stop you.

"Fine," you whispered to yourself, the determination in your voice solidifying. "I’ll walk."

Without another thought, you opened the door, slammed it shut, and stepped back out into the pouring rain. The streets blurred with each step you took, your soaked clothes clinging to you as you began your journey toward Noah, your mind set on one thing: You needed to see him.

The rain was hitting the ground in heavy, unrelenting sheets, turning the streets into rivers when you reached Noah's house. The sound of it pounded against your ears, drowning out everything else. You stood there, drenched to the bone, the cold water soaking through your coat and clothes, your hair was wet, dripping down and sending a chill through your neck, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except getting to Noah.

Nothing mattered except Noah.

The cold air pressed against your skin, your heart pounded in your chest, thoughts spinning.

You reached the front door, the familiar house looming before you, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t feel like home anymore. Not when everything had been shattered, and the quiet that hung between you two was almost suffocating.

Finally, you pressed the doorbell, the sound of it echoing louder in the still night than you had anticipated. The seconds felt like hours, and then, the door creaked open.

There he was, standing in the doorway, but he wasn’t the same Noah. His eyes were tired, bloodshot from lack of sleep, and his face was drawn. The person you had known—the one who laughed with you late at night, the one who made you feel safe—felt distant now, a ghost of the man you had loved.

He looked at you, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence as the rain kept pouring all around you. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t even move. You couldn't read him, it was like he was trying to keep you at arm’s length, afraid that if you got too close, you might shatter him further.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words felt like they were stuck in your throat. What could you even say? How could you explain what had happened, explain how everything had fallen apart because of one man's manipulation? You knew this was your fault, too.

“Noah,” you said, voice shaky as you finally met his gaze. “I... I need to talk to you. Please.”

His expression remained overall hard, a wall that you couldn’t break through, not yet. He looked down for a moment, his jaw tightening, as if he was fighting the urge to turn away from you.

But when he looked at you, his eyes were soft, as if despite everything he couldn't look at you with anger.

"What?" he muttered, his voice strained, as if a single word was causing him physical pain.

You took a deep breath.

"Ever since Jason came back to town, I—I didn’t see it. I didn’t want to see it. I thought that chapter was closed, that he was a thing of the past, that I was done with him. And I was. Because I love you and I'll always love you and only you. But he wasn’t done with me. I should’ve known. And I... I was too fucking stupid to realize he never wanted to let me go. Not really. He wanted to win me back, to tear us apart, and I was blind to it."

He just stared at you, so you kept talking. Seeing him like that was absolutely breaking you.

"He asked Rick for help, a friend of his that understood he was doing something wrong and talked to me. And Rick, he... he just wanted to be a good friend. He didn’t understand. But Jason—he used Rick, manipulated him, got him to leave him drunk in front of your house, knowing that I would let him in because I am too fucking srupid and too fucking nice. He knew that you’d think I cheated on you. Knowing that you’d be hurt, that you'd doubt me, that it would rip us apart. He had everything planned. And I—I let it happen. I didn’t even see it coming. I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late, until I saw the way you looked at me like I let you down like your ex. And I've never wanted that.

And now... now I’m standing here, soaked to the skin because I always forget to bring an umbrella with me and because I care about you, trying to find the right words, but there’s no easy way to explain this. No way to take back the pain I caused you. No way to undo what Jason did. But I need you to know this... I love you. More than anything. More than I ever thought I could love someone.

And I’m so fucking sorry for the mess I’ve made and for letting Jason ruin everything. I’m so sorry I didn’t see what Jason was doing. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner that I was losing you, that I was pushing you away when all I’ve ever wanted is to be with you.

I love you more than I ever knew how to say. I love you more than anything. And I need you to know that, to believe that, because it’s the truth. You’re the only thing that matters to me and I miss you. And I miss Luna. And I miss the family we built. The three of us. And if you can find it in your heart to forgive me... I swear, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. But please, Noah, don’t let me lose you. Not like this. Not because of an asshole who thought he had power on someone else's love."

After you finished confessing, Noah looked at you with a mix of confusion and concern for a moment, his brow furrowing as his gaze flickered over your drenched form. "Why are you completely soaked?"

You couldn't help but smile softly, a little amusement tugging at the corner of your lips, despite the moment. "My car wouldn’t start," you replied, trying to sound lighthearted, almost as if it was a silly inconvenience. "So I walked."

Before you could say anything more, Noah’s expression softened even more, and without another word, he stepped forward in the rain. His lips found yours with a sudden intensity, and it was like everything else melted away. You smiled against his mouth, the taste of him so sweet, so right, that it felt like you could stay in this moment forever.

You had longed for the sensation of his lips on yours, the warmth of his tongue dancing with yours, and the comfort of his arms wrapped around you for days.

His hair clung to his forehead as the rain soaked him through, and without thinking, you reached up to brush it aside, your fingers grazing the damp strands as you continued to kiss him, your hearts racing in sync. It was perfect. It was real. The kiss lingered, deepening, as if neither of you wanted it to end, until the air between you both ran out and you both pulled back, gasping for breath.

Noah’s hands were still on your hips, pushing you close to him.

His voice was low and vulnerable as he whispered against your lips, "I’ve dreamed of this moment for fifteen nights. I thought you hated me..I'm sorry I told you to leave. I was scared to lose you and so fucking jealous. I've never wanted you to leave. I love you.

I loved you from the first moment I walked into the café with Luna barely able to speak, when she raised her little hand to say hi. She didn't do it with anyone. But she did it with you. Maybe she also understood at that moment that you were going to be the most important person in both our lives."

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth flooding back into your chest at the sound of his words. "I’ve walked in the rain for forty minutes for you," you murmured, your voice soft but full of certainty. "I’d say I don’t hate you at all."

He chuckled, the sound of it wrapping around you like a warm blanket. God, you'd missed that sound so bad. "I’d say I don’t hate you at all either," he replied, a grin tugging at his lips, and then he kissed you again, softer this time, as if savoring every second, every drop of rain falling around you both.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme @hurricanesfollowyou @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @missduffsblog

TBAF Tags: @klutzy-kay24 @mrscevans @concreteangel92 @iconic-taurus @niicoleleigh @cheyyyyr @supersquirrel1996 @respectfulrebel @clickmedead @whenyouwannafindlove @kenjipepsi1

[tiyawnyana]

So this is a special request sent in by @reader210 , thank you for the request! I loved your idea and want to turn it into a multi-chapter story so this is chapter one!

A/N: I actually had so much fun creating this story because the characterization was a blast

Characters: Mel Medarda x Fem!Doctor!Reader

Warnings: nothing explicit, brief swearing, general confusion

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An Apple a Day

Chapter 1

Synopsis:

Everything was normal- everything was starting to become better, pieces falling into place. You got your new position within the hospital secured, you were thinking about getting a dog, maybe even a cat. Life was beginning to make sense.

Until you end up in an entirely new world, apparently.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Footsteps echo through the halls, a soft sound in these vacant cells as you munch on the fruit given to you a Iittle while ago.

You huff, annoyed and tired with this insane situation.

You didn't expect this- to be somehow spawned into another world. One minute, you're in your office finishing some paperwork for a patient, the next, you're collapsing in the middle of a huge room, seemingly a meeting of elites to some sort.

You remember the shrieks of surprise, the throbbing in your skull as you weakly pushed yourself up with your palms. Your glasses had flung off in the events, nowhere to be found so now you're stuck with fuzzy vision and locked away while whoever figures out who and what you were.

You lean against the cold wall, huffing softly as you rub your fingers into your temple, feeling another headache brewing.

Footsteps get closer, entering the cell hallway and you sigh, rolling your eyes as they get nearer.

You see the fuzzy outline of someone, squinting to try and make them out but no such luck.

You groan as they stop at your cell and you decide to get up, pacing closer to the bars.

“Well? Figure me out yet?” You sass sarcastically.

“I don't think you're in a position to be sarcastic,” the woman murmurs, and you're almost convinced you hear a smirk in her tone.

“I don't think I'm in a position to do anything, I'm afraid, but here we are,” you smirk, leaning against the bars.

She's silent for a moment, gaze seemingly boring into you and you feel heat creeping up your neck in embarrassment. You avert your gaze, huffing softly.

“The Counsel hasn't figured out the cause of your appearance.. Where are you from? Noxus?”

You raise a brow in confusion and question, turning your gaze back to her,”Where the hell is Noxus? I'm from Chicago-”

“Chicago?” She echoes, bewildered,”I don't recognize your accent-”

“Typical brit, huh?” You try to joke but it falls flat. You swallow, looking away again.

“What is your position? Status?”

“Uh- what?”

“Your title,” she speaks firmly.

You look back at her despite her still blurry form,”Uh.. Doctor?”

“You're a Doctor?” She echoes, seemingly surprised,”In that uniform?”

“What's wrong with my uniform?” You look down at the white doctors coat with your soft navy cardigan underneath.

“I've never seen that kind of uniform on a doctor- seems unfitting-”

“Okay-”

“That- is not the main focus of my visit,” she sighs, before lifting her hand and handing you something.

“What's that-”

“Your glasses.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” you grab them from her hand and quickly put them on, wincing at the slight blur before your vision comes back into focus and redirecting your gaze back to the woman before you.

Jesus- this woman is gorgeous. Unlike anyone you've ever seen- what?

“Uh- wow,” you murmur, eyes wide as you take her in.

“What?” She tilts her head in confusion.

You figure you must be dreaming. Some drug induced coma, for sure.

“You're stunning,” you say smoothly, uncaring for any embarrassment you'd surely feel if this was real life.

Her gaze widens in surprise, before she quickly masks over it.

“The counsel wishes to conduct an interview, an investigation of sorts to understand your appearance,” she speaks smoothly, bringing keys forward before hesitating,”I trust you'll behave?”

You snort, giving her a nod,”Yes, I'll behave. I'm just as curious as you all are.”

She eyes you for a moment before unlocking the cell, sliding the bars open and beckoning you forward.

You step out, stretching your arms above your head before inhaling sharply in surprise when a guard approaches quickly, cuffs on display.

“Those won't be necessary,” the woman speaks firmly, brushing her hand to signal the guard.

You eye her carefully,”Thank you.”

She nods in silence.

“What's your name?”

She rolls her eyes, ushering you to walk out and you huff a soft laugh.

She walks beside you, leading you through halls with the guard following behind. You can't take your eyes off of your surroundings, enthralled with the architecture and some paintings on the walls.

“This is one insane dream,” you murmur to yourself.

“A dream?” The woman echoes, shaking her head,”How interesting.”

You remember these doors, suddenly nervous at the sight of the giant, overly designed wood as you recall being dragged out of the room behind them.

They open, revealing that those same people from before are seated in their same chairs.

You're pushed forward by the guard and you out of reflex turn to smack at his hand but the woman waves the guard off as she beckons you to follow.

“In the center, if you will,” she murmurs, walking away for circle the table back to her own seat.

You listen as requested, hands clasped together at your front as you stand in the center, feeling as if you were under a microscope.

“Uh.. hi,” you wave awkwardly with a sheepish smile.

The doors open again, a higher pitched voice gaining everyone's attention and you turn to look, only for you to find nothing. They're still talking, though, and you follow the sound to the head of the table when a small person? Seats themselves down.

“It's about time we figured out this anomaly!” He grins through quirked ears and a bushy mustache.

Your head tilts, confusion etched into your face.

“Counselor Medarda, have you found out any new information about our guest?”

The woman, you learn now is something Medarda, turns to nod in his direction.

“Our guest is from what you called Chicago? I am unfamiliar with it-” she turns to look at you.

“Yes- Uh, Chicago, Illinois, to be exact.”

“Illinois-?” A man echoes, and you turn before stifling a smirk.

The blonde man was the definition of a twink back home.

You shake your head, refocusing as you face the head counselor,”Yes, in America?”

His ears perk, eyes narrowed as he peers back at you,”We don't know what you're talking about, this America- there's no lands here by that name.”

“What now?”

Counselor Medarda sighs in defeat,”I truly don't believe we'll find anything of ill intent here,” she speaks smoothly,”Counselor Heimerdinger?”

Your head turns to the head counselor- Heimerdinger, as he furrows his thick brows.

“You don't look of Noxus style,” he huffs,”Nor any other land I've ventured through. I'm curious, what was your occupation?”

“Oh- I'm a Doctor, sir,” you respond sheepishly.

“A Doctor! Impressive,” he smiles genuinely and you're surprised to find delight in that,”I think we could find use of you while keeping an eye on your movements.”

“Use of me-?” You echo in confusion.

“Oh, yes! I believe we could very well use your talents,” he looks to the other counselors.

Some honestly look as if they care less, that one twink in particular, but as your gaze flicks back toward him, you catch onto Ms. Medarda.

She's looking at you with a certain look, a glint to her eye, like she found something worth investing in.

Heat creeps up your cheeks and you don't hear anything else, too occupied with the golden freckles dusting her cheeks and her near hypnotizing eyes.

“Then it's settled!”

You whip your head back to Heimerdinger, expecting the worst but he's got a genuine, friendly smile on his face.

“You'll be under surveillance, of course, but we want to understand your form of healing- perhaps it is different in this.. Chicago?”

You nod in understanding, smiling shakily,”Of- of course, uh-”

“Counselor Medarda and Shoola will lead you around, you will have a stationed enforcer keeping an eye on you until we can determine that you are not a threat.”

You nod again, hands tightening at your front out of nerves.

“I expect weekly reports, have them set up the east wing for board and the first floor for an office for her,” he grins back at you,”I do hope to see good things from you.”

He calls the meeting to an end, hopping down from his chair and exiting the room with a few of the counselors following behind you.

Counselor Medardo waves off Shoola, approaching you from behind before stopping.

“Doctor?”

You snap back into focus, turning to look at her.

“Ready to go?” She beckons toward the door.

You take a moment to reply, nodding in confusion.

“What the hell was that?” You manage to say, following her out of the room.

“That was your interview, investigation, call it what you wish,” she waves it off.

You look at her in bewilderment,”Was that counselor made of metal?”

“Counselor Bolbok?” She side eyes you in confusion.

“Sure, whatever-”

“Hold on.. you've been looking confused,” she turns to you, stopping in the hallway.

“No shit, Sherlock, I’m confused-”

“Sherlock?” She questions, face scrunched in confusion.

Your eyes go wide, hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, stressed,“Ok- what is happening.”

She just raises a brow, that confused look still on her face.

“What was that!” You huff,”Counselor Heim..”

“Counselor Heimerdinger,” she finishes.

“Yes- what?” You laugh in surprise,”What.. is he? In the least disrespectful way possible.”

She's quiet for a moment before sighing in defeat,”You really aren't from here.. are you?”

“That's what I've been telling you-” a headache begins to form,”Did I somehow end up in an entirely new universe? Huh?”

She covers her mouth, hiding the small laugh at your expense.

“Heimerdinger is a Yordle,” she murmurs with a grin,”Bolbok is a gaseous being- he controls his metal exterior.”

You look at her as if she'd grown a second head,“What the hell is a yordle?”

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

A/N: I just needed an excuse to describe Salo as a twink sorry not sorry

[blackgirlsloveburrow]

Can we get bf Joe where his obsessed with his black gf heavy on the PDA and we see his family and fans reaction and he love to creampie her💕😮‍💨

i got you! this kinda went a different way but i like it? i hope you do too!

NSFW 18+

joe doesn’t give the media a lot to work with. he shows them what he wants them to see. which is his skills as a quarterback or anything he needs to shoutout for his brand deals. he likes to keep everything private, but there’s just one thing he can’t.

you. he’s addicted to you.

no one really expected him to be with you, as you were quite different than his other exes, but that’s what he likes about you. you’re a lot like his teammates where you give him new experiences, different than the ones he had known growing up in rural ohio. you give him new sensations and feelings, so no wonder he can’t keep his hands off of you.

people first found out about you and joe when they saw a photo him kissing on your neck with his hand on your thigh on the same side of a booth at what you guys thought was a private dinner. paparazzi always found a way.

he didn’t seem to mind though.

it was a shock to his fans and family for sure, as they never really imagined the star quarterback to be caught so “scandalously”. this would be something they would have to get used to though as joe never planned to stop showing his affection in public to you.

joe would kiss and hug you anywhere, anytime. embracing you after amazing wins or hard losses in front of everyone. he loved to kiss you, hold your hand or your hip. it’s a side they never saw from him before. he found any chance to show you off, always trying to take you to his events. it was always hard for him having to leave you for more than a day when he had to travel or you had to work.

the way he fucks you when he misses you (which is all time time) is always so passionate. joe misses you even when you go the store for an hour. when he misses you, he always buries his face in your neck, holding your hands down, and fucks you deep and hard. he wants to be as close to you as possible.

he loves to cum in you too. he creampies you so much. he likes knowing that you’re his. you always remind him he needs to be careful when he cums in you, but he can’t help it.

“i just love you so much baby, i like feeling you around me when i finish” he always replies. you can’t help but feel loved, so he always gets away with it.

joe wouldn’t mind getting you pregnant though. if you did, he can show you off even more and you can be by his side all of the time. he would never admit that though.

[rie-092]

Hi, here I reader an he Creep lycris and (i hopenits okay 2 characters) but I love the idea of the Eclarcks vrothers being ivsessed woth Penelope's maid! Reader.

And they tried to get notice, in a bad or good way. Reader takes care and actually loves Penelope and just want her mistress tk be happy uu

EVENT'S ENTRY OO2 : CREEP

[ yandere! eckhart brothers ]

note: here's the link of the event (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)!

let's start with derrick. he was the first one who noticed you. let's just say that you and him was childhood friends since you started working in the eckhart estate since you were a child.

at first, to be honest. derrick finds you annoying. but seeing you being happy and friendly towards his little sister. it struck something inside him.

and that was when he realized, ah, damn you. he was falling hard.

expect that derrick, despite of being prideful, will be very needy. hell, you're not even lovers but he will start demanding for your attention.

he will start calling for you everyday, despite of being busy with your work. and what's his reason? simple, because he wanted to ‘play’ with you.

well, technically you guys just spend times while reading books or drinking teas. but for derrick it was everything.

and that was when reynold eckhart entered the scene.

unlike his calm and collected older brother, reynold was fucking cute, i mean, a mess when he's in front of you.

it all started with a small crush and that was when he started following you around like a puppy. dude, this guy really loves headpats and compliments. so you better shower him with compliments!

he likes playing with you and yvonne! but it's just annoying to have derrick playing the dad role while you play the mom role when yvonne wants to play house.

since they were children. they haven't really realized that their affection for you were— how will i describe it? darker? or unhinge?

derrick was the calm and calculated one while reynold was the violent and cranky one. to be honest, they are not really jealous to each other. sure, they want your attention for themselves but— nah, nah, in derrick's eyes, reynold was too childish to be your type. while in reynold's eyes, his brother is too sophisticated to fall for you.

expect that they will be more handful when yvonne disappeared. they will be more clingy. because reynold wants you to comfort him while derrick was preventing you to disappear like yvonne.

and that was when penelope entered the scene. when the duke was finding a suitable maid to serve penelope. you were with derrick that time. he saw how your eyes shone as you looked at penelope.

no, no, no! he kept telling to himself that you only reacted like that because you miss yvonne. there's no way you find that thing adorable!

but the next day, he was surprised when he was informed by his father that you became penelope's personal maid. how dare her—

what about reynold? well, he doesn't really give a fuck. sure, he still hates penelope taking his sister's place on their family. but seeing you actually enjoys serving penelope.

honestly, derrick and reynold was really different when it comes to you. reynold was the soft one, heck, he won't hurt anyone or you physically and verbally if you give him the attention that he wanted. but once he saw you paying attention to anyone that is not him or derrick? you should expect to see his violent side.

while derrick is the unhinge one. he doesn't care who it was, if you don't pay any attention to him. the hell, this guy would lose it. i mean, the last time you went to the festival with your male friend. he tortured that thing in front of you (and hell, he was so close on doing that to penelope if you're not that overprotective over her).

and you? who is stuck in the middle of this two brothers who is like a ticking bomb? you only want one thing. and that is for penelope to be happy.

but unknown to you, penelope actually wants you as much as her siblings wanted you. but don't worry! she is willing to share you with reynold. but not with derrick.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

“ we want you to notice when we're not around, (name). ”

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Love Triangle from Hell (4)

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

Synopsis: Following the events of PART THREE, things begin to heat up.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), piv sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk/nicknames, kissing, messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; hurt/comfort; angsty angst; allusions to violence; miscommunication; jealousy

Series Masterlist

A/N: I continue to be overwhelmed by the love you all have given this series. I appreciate you all so much. Everyone who have commented, reblogged and followed- thank you so much. I love reading everything and I have had so much fun seeing everyone's reactions. It fills me with so much joy. Let me know what you think of this next chapter!

Please vote for Eddie or Steve in the poll at the end while it is live! The results will be how I end this series <3 BUT, if you want me to do an alternative ending as like a bonus chapter let me know cause I'd love to do that too.

His knuckles were white from his grip on the steering wheel, Steve felt like he lost control of his actions as he resolved to follow Eddie’s van. Eddie had said you wanted space, but now he’s here picking you up from the game? What the actual fuck. He’s fuming, the longer the night goes on. He should’ve just gone home, probably. But he was so angry at himself for taking forever, he couldn’t wait another second. He’d finally had the epiphany. He loves you. He wants you so badly, he can’t find it in him to care if he ruins everything. 

Earlier that day, it had hit him all at once. That overwhelming, all encompassing realization that stopped him dead in his tracks. Robin had left for the day, and he was stuck behind the counter rewinding returned tapes. He’d been sitting with his own thoughts. He was thinking about that dream, and then he was also just thinking about you. You took up all his senses- all he could think about was you. He looked back on shared moments with you in a different light. So many moments between the two of you that would’ve been your start. How could he have not seen it, seen you, all this time? 

Oh. 

Oh. 

He’d bailed on the rest of his shift at Family Video, fuck it. Keith wouldn’t fire him anyways. He knew Robin mentioned the game- of course you’d be there. He’d realized he loved you and didn’t want to waste another second. He wanted to find you in the crowd, climb up over the stands to whoever you were, and finally fucking kiss you. It was his grand gesture. 

His plan would have worked, but it was easier said than done. The confidence he felt before was wiped from him when he saw the way your face fell. He thought you didn’t want to see him, and that you were upset to run into him. He misread your sadness for distaste and resentment. That brief moment made his whole world come tumbling down around him. You were sad because you missed him, but he didn’t know that. So his plan fumbled in a moment of panic. 

Seeing you with Eddie had been his final straw. He felt like a ticking clock counting down was looming over his head. He was running out of time, he was losing you. He couldn’t let that happen. Was he going about it the right way? Probably not, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care in the least as he stormed over. Everything he’d been feeling was heightened. He was panicked and desperate and angry and so fucking jealous. This should’ve been him with you, driving you home in his car, and he had fucked that up. 

Eddie remembers how nervous he was when he picked you up for the dance that Friday night. He’d done his best to tame his hair, and Wayne let him borrow his suit. Wayne had stayed to help with his tie and to give him a talking to about how to be a gentleman when Eddie went to pick you up. 

“Actually go up to the goddamn door and knock. Say good evening to her parents,” Wayne instructed. “Make sure you hold her hand to help her down the stairs, open her car door, hold the door for her…” 

“Wayne I know, I know,” Eddie fused, worried he was going to be late. “It’s not a date anyways,” Eddie insists, although he wished it was. Wayne scoffs. 

“Whatever you say,” he said, rolling his eyes at Eddie. 

“Lemme get a picture,” Wayne had insisted, stopping Eddie from running out the door. Grumbling the whole time, Eddie stood in their little kitchen while Wayne fumbled with his old camera. “You never look halfway decent, gotta capture it for the book.” 

The photo is still hanging up on Wayne’s fridge to this day. Eddie has not worn a suit since. 

Arriving at your house was so daunting to Eddie. He’d never really met your parents before. Just in passing when he’d pick you up or drop you off for school. He’d been to your house before, you’d hosted a few times for Hellfire- but it was never anything like this. This was special. 

He went up to the door like Wayne instructed and he shook your dad’s hand. He was worried that they’d judge him- they would hate his hair or something. It’s the first time he’s relieved that his tattoos aren’t out on display. They were both kind to him, but he could tell they were not sure how to react to him. Self-conscious, he worried they were disappointed because he wasn’t Steve. Eddie wasn’t who they pictured for you. They envisioned you with Steve. That was they future they had planned. 

Eddie thought you looked absolutely unreal that night. He always thought that those scenes where the girl makes her grand entrance and floats down the stairs were corny. Until it happened to him and it felt like time stopped. Your descent down the stairs after your mom called you down had Eddie in a trance. You were angelic in your dress, the one Eddie will pretend you bought for him- not for Steve. Eddie must have been staring with his mouth agape, because your father needed to clear his throat for Eddie to realize you’d been expectantly waiting for him to say something. Literally anything. 

“You look beautiful,” Eddie marveled, and you giggled a shy thank you. A few hundred photos later and you both were finally on your way. 

 You were right, the Snow Ball was not Eddie’s scene at all. He didn’t like the music, or the people, but he was just so happy to be spending time with you that he couldn't care about literally anything else. You seemed happy too. Eddie thought you were glowing. He even danced to every song you wanted and took the cheesy photo booth pictures. You tore the photo strip in half so you could each have some. You use yours as a bookmark to this day and Eddie’s is still clipped to the visor in the van. 

You’d hardly even noticed Steve the whole night. Eddie kept you on your feet and kept you laughing so hard your stomach hurt. 

The bang on the side of the van made you jump. You both were startled. You watched as Eddie’s eyes widened as the panic set in for both of you. Neither of you had ever seen Steve like this, it wasn’t his nature. You both didn’t know what to do. 

“Just wait here,” Eddie said comfortingly, before jumping out of the van. “I’ll talk to him.” 

Steve stood outside waiting impatiently, his hands on his hips as his chest rapidly rose and fell. His hair was messy, as you watched from the side mirror, you could tell he’d been tugging at it- a nervous habit of his you knew quite well. 

“What the fuck is this?” He accuses. Eddie offers his hands up in surrender jokingly. 

“Come on Steve…” 

“You told me she wanted space! Then you swoop in and pull this shit?” 

“She did want space- not to be fucking ignored for weeks!” Eddie points out. “You had every opportunity and you just left her alone, so how long did you expect me to just stand around while you play these fucking mind games with her? I was the bigger person, Steve! I was willing to literally take myself out of the fucking equation if you both wanted each other- and you didn’t do shit!” 

Steve looks towards the van and you make eye contact in the side mirror. He looks devastated under the outward projection of anger. It’s like you’re a million miles away. He can’t be too late. He just couldn’t. How is he supposed to just walk away after everything? Is this just it? He pleads that you’ll do something- say something- anything! Just tell him you still care. 

You avert your gaze. Steve shallows harshly. 

Eddie crosses his arms, and steps in front of Steve’s view of you. “Come on man,” Steve pleads, voice cracking. “Let me just talk to her.” 

Eddie looks to you, and you shake your head “no.” 

“How about you call her tomorrow when you cool off? You’re scaring her,” Eddie proposes. 

“You don’t speak for her,” Steve argues. “Baby, please,” he pleads looking over Eddie’s shoulder. 

Baby? Eddie fumes- he can not be serious. 

You roll down the window a crack. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Steve. I don’t want to talk to you right now,” you shout from the van. Before he can respond, you crank the window back up. 

“Fine,” Steve glares at Eddie. It’s not over, but he’ll concede for now- if it’s what you want. He slams his car door shut before speeding away, the car screaming as he pulled away as quickly as he could. 

He knew his parents would be gone, so he opted to go to their house to crash tonight. He couldn’t bear facing Eddie back at their place after this. 

You don’t even realize that you’d be crying until you feel Eddie’s arms pull you in for a hug. He rubs your back comforting you as you are shocked at what just happened. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your hair before placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Let me bring you home, yeah?” 

The ride back to your apartment is silent, neither one of you knowing what to say. Eddie doesn’t want to push, and you’re too exhausted to get into it. You rest your forehead on the cold glass of the window to help your head. Eddie wants to reach out and hold your hand as he drives, but he keeps his distance. 

Eddie always walks you all the way to your front door, even after you’ve told him he doesn’t have to so many times. Wayne would kill me, he would joke. He held the door open for you so you could hop out. He held your arm, helping you navigate the icy walk. And he walked you upstairs to your apartment. 

There’s a piece of paper taped to the front of the door. 

I decided to spend the night at Vicky’s. Do with that information what you will. - Robin 

“I don’t want to be alone,” you admit, a little panicked knowing you’d be walking into an empty apartment. Eddie sighs, biting his lip nervously. Steve is going to never want to see him again, he’s sure of it. 

“I can stay if that would make you feel better?” He offers. You nod. 

“Please.” 

You pull the note down and toss it in the bin on your way inside. Eddie follows after you, kicking off his boots in the entryway. You both hang up your coats. You move over to the thermostat and turn it up. Eddie lingers in the living room, not quite sure what to do with himself. You both say nothing for a few moments. 

“Eddie, I’m so sorry about all of this,” you say finally. “Just everything- everything is falling apart it feels like.”

“None of this is your fault- it’s really not anyone’s fault…well, except mine,” he says, like a confessional and he takes a step closer. 

“Yeah,” you reply softly, matching his step. 

The air in the room was thick with tension between the two of you. In the silence and still, there was a pull dragging you into each other. 

“The whole thing is quite unfortunate really,” he contemplates, a knowing smile forming on his face. One step. 

“Most unfortunate,” you whisper. One step. He reaches out and intertwines with fingers with his. 

“Awful,” he whispers, tracing circles on your hands with his thumb gently. It sears through you completely. 

He tilts his head and his lips ghost over yours. Your body feels like it’s on fire being so close to him. The first kiss is so delicate, and the familiar feeling ignites in you. It’s perfect, being held by him by this. 

His lips are softer than you expect when they slot against yours. You let yourself forget about everything else in that moment- everything just melts away at his touch. Your brain melts at the sensation and warmth spreads throughout your whole body. You part your lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss and he does gladly. 

Waiting for a kiss like this was worth it, Eddie thinks. All the nights he spent thinking about it and all the times he held back from touching you… all of it felt like nothing as you fill up all his senses. It’s almost too much. 

“Sweetheart… please,” he begs, mumbling against your lips. His hands rest on the expanse of your back and the sensation sends a shiver up your spine. You gently tug by his belt loops closer to you, so your body is flush against his. You moan softly against his lips. 

Without disentangling himself from you, he guides you as you walk backwards towards the door of your bedroom. His hands make everywhere on your skin burn in their wake as he brings them down your back, to your hip, then settle firmly on your ass. It makes you whimper. 

The back of you knees touch the edge of your bed, and you let yourself fall backwards- pulling Eddie to climb on top of you. His hair tickles as it curtains your faces, and he leans in to press hot kisses to your jaw and down your neck, a hickey forming right where he ends just above your collarbone. 

When he pulls back briefly, you take the opportunity to pull your sweater over your head and toss it to the floor. Eddie’s movements stutter, his eyes hungrily taking in all of the newly exposed skin. You were a vision. “Shit,” he breathes, “look at you.” 

He wastes no time pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him. Warmth rushes to your core at the sight of his tattoos, the subtle muscle under his pale skin, the chain around his neck, the happy trail that leads down to wear his jeans are hanging low on his hips and showing off a prominent bulge… you’re fucked. He sits up on his knees over your thighs and your body aches at the separation. 

You watch as he takes his hair and gathers it together in his hands. Making a ponytail should not be this sexy, but it’s Eddie. He winks at you as he does when he notices the way you’re staring with your mouth open, heaving breathing. 

“Take these off, sweetheart,” Eddie hums, nodding down to your jeans as he pulls the elastic from his wrist around to secure it in his hair. You’re face is warm as you nod, wiggling out of them and kicking them away. You’re left in just your bra and panties and spread out before him. 

“These are so pretty,” he muses, teasingly, running his ringed fingers over the skin just above the edge of your panties. He kneels down on the floor at the foot of the bad, hooking your legs over his shoulders in one fluid motion. “So pretty,” he mumbles, pressing delicate, teasing kisses to your inner thighs as his hands rub up and down the length of your legs. 

His eyes are directly in line with the wet spot that has formed on your panties. It aches, and you’re desperate for him to do something about it. Without him even touching you yet, you’re squirming in the anticipation that he will do something to soothe the sensation that has been building up in  your core. 

He presses a kiss to your heat over your panties, his nose pressing against your clit and the feeling makes you gasp, relieved for just the littlest amount of contact. Satisfied with your response to him, he hooks his thumb through your panties, and drags them aside- the metal of his rings feel cool against the hotness of your skin and it makes you flutter. 

He grins devilishly, “All of this for me, pretty girl?” 

One hand holds your panties, the other rests on your hip to hold you steady when Eddie wastes no time, devouring you. His nose against your clit, his tongue lapping at your arousal- it was too much. He was like a man starved. How dare you deny him this for so long. He was desperate to taste you, and he groans- he knew you’d be so fucking sweet. He just knew it. 

He pulls back to rub his thumb over your clit, making circles that feel so good you could cry. You’re so needy, writhing in his arms as you feel a familiar knot form in your stomach. With his thumb firmly in place, he returns to latch his tongue back to you. 

“Eddie,” you whine, your hands tangles in your sheets to stabilize yourself. Your head is spinning, and you know you’re so fucking close. “Please,” you cry desperately at the sensation, chasing your climax. 

Eddie continues his pace, the exact way you need him to and he continues to work you through your first orgasm. He kisses your thighs when you finish and he smiles at you- his face glistening with your slick. Cheeky bastard. He kisses your legs, your stomach and all the way back up to your lips, tasting yourself on him. He tugs off your panties and tosses them on the floor. Something about making you cum, a switch flipped in Eddie. 

He’s kissing you like he’s depending on it to survive, he’s feeling confident and desperate to do that again. He practically growls against your skin, face buried in your neck. He works off his jeans and boxers. Your mouth waters. He’s gorgeous fucking everywhere. 

“Your turn,” you mumble, unhooking your bra, eyes wandering to Eddie’s hard cock. He shakes his head, kissing you again. Fuck if he doesn’t want that, but he can’t trust himself to not completely fall apart. 

“Next time, sweetheart,” he promises, and you pout. “Need to fuck you,” he mutters against your lips, his blood breath heavy against yours. You moan at his words. 

“Please, Eds,” you drawl, “need you inside me.” 

He teases your entrance, the top of his cock so painfully close to pushing inside you. “I’m going to fuck you so good you’ll forget all about Steve, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, fuck, Eddie please,” you whine, you hips trying to create some friction, already desperate and needy for another release. Oh, you liked that, Eddie muses. He can deliver. 

“He doesn’t deserve this pretty pussy does he?” Eddie muses, pushing in just the tip of his cock, watching as you fall apart, desperate for more of him. “This perfect… fuck, tight pussy,” he moans, pushing himself fully into you. 

“Can’t take care of you as good as I can,” he promises, thrusting into you at just the right, hitting that spot that makes your brain go stupid. You feel so full of him, you can’t imagine anyone feeling better than Eddie by the way he’s fucking into you. 

“He’s never gonna fuck you as good as this,” Eddie promises. You can believe it. He leans down and kisses your neck, his hand massaging your breast, tugging gently at your hard nipple before giving the same care and attention to the other one as well. He whispers more filthy things against your neck, and you moan- your body responding to his so well. 

“Fit around me so good, sweetheart,” he muses, hot kisses trailing over the stance of your neck, “you take my cock so well.” 

“Such a good girl… making my cock all messy,” he praises, and then he presses his lips to yours in a desperately messy kiss. “Fuck, sweetheart…” 

Tears threaten the corners of your eyes, it all is too good, too overwhelming. You’re so over sensitive from your first orgasm, you are reaching your peak again, all too quickly for your liking. You can’t help it- he feels too good and he’s so fucking attentive and fuck- you feel so close. 

“Cum on my cock princess,” Eddie encourages, feeling you tighten around his cock. “you’re gonna look so good for me, let me see you cum for me, yeah?” 

He holds your cheeks in his hand, your lips squished together as you look up at him, wide eyed. “You can do it, be a good girl and cum all over my cock,” he encourages. It’s just enough to make you fall apart all over again. Messy things spilling from your mouth as your body pulses and he continues his pace, working you through it- kissing your forehead. 

Eddie pulls out, making a mess on your stomach as he cums. Exhausted, he collapses on the bed next to you. He kisses you softly, praising you for being so good for him. It makes you feel like putty. He disappears for a second, disappearing behind the door. He comes back with water for you and a warm cloth. He kisses you, making you take the water from him, and then he cleans you up gently, kissing your body all over after the job is done. 

You don’t know what you’re going to say to Steve. All you care about now, is burrowing yourself into Eddie’s chest. For the first time in weeks, you and Eddie both actually sleep soundly, limbs tangled together- your bodies intertwined. 

Taglist: @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs @v3lv3tf0x @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @sunshine-mrk @danymunsonharrington

[its-leethee]

Lucia the first elves and archdragons, who designed and built the camp cosmic order, is angry and scared that the spark human's use of primal magic is going to spread through the camp and endanger everyone--

It happened long ago, when humans had only just learned to hold fire in their hands without burning. They nurtured their precious primal flames secretly—in the dark of night, beneath shadows and shrouds—as cultivating its glow drew the eyes and ire of monsters. Eventually, for the audacity of their fire, they were hunted, and—though they looked to the stars for salvation—the stars, too, looked down upon them with disdain. Humanity had been given something it was never meant to have. And so there came a calamity.

--Ripples

I've been thinking about why the stars and the Cosmic Order would turn their backs on and refuse to watch over Xadia. If they could see the future - why is there nothing they're willing or able to do to stop it?

But if the human's unchecked use of magic would attract the attention of a certain type of monsters -

Speculation that Aaravos was hoping to attract a star devourer dragon to destroy Xadia is an idea that's been bouncing around the fandom for a while.

And this would explain why the other Startouch elves on the Cosmic Council would stay out of the way; why they would turn their backs and avert their eyes; why they wouldn't want to look past a certain point via their timeblind powers either.

"...the beginning of the end. The long slow spiral to chaos." They won't look past the cosmic-prophecy-event-horizon because there's a star devourer dragon sitting just beyond.

They're afraid of being driven mad.

"...I can feel my very being shattering from the inside out!"

Aaravos gleefully goading the humans on; taunting the Cosmic Council, "are you watching?"

I have not seen the stars in centuries. But when I see them again—when the stars are forced to look upon me, their dark brother—they will know how I have waited. And when everything they have built lies shattered, I will savor their fall from the sky.

--Patience

In lieu of a conclusion paragraph I'm gonna leave y'all with a piece of my terrible humor:

--2x01 foreshadowing???? i love this show so much

[myokk]

His lips brushed against hers when he spoke again. "Whatever it is, I can help you."

Eloise shivered at his proximity and leaned in a bit closer. Their lips were touching now, an approximation of a kiss, but neither of them moved to break it from its liminal meaning. Maybe if she breathed the words that she couldn't speak into his mouth, they would be swallowed whole by him. Maybe he could help her. Maybe putting them into reality somehow, not just allowing the events to remain some nebulous thing that was consuming her, could help.

"I..." the feeling of his lips brushing against hers as she tried to speak made her stomach clench in that strange way it had before, and all she wanted to do was lean into his embrace again. Eloise closed the distance again between them, her lips moving softly, sweetly against his as she whispered what she could not tell him about that weekend. She didn't know if he could understand her, but did it really matter?

She whispered everything she didn't have the words to articulate otherwise.

Sebastian tried pulling his head away, to better listen to her, perhaps, but Eloise chased his mouth with her own and before she knew it, he was as lost in the kiss as she was. It was...addicting, to be so close to him, to smell the faint cinnamon scent that always seemed to cling to his robes, to hear the small breaths coming from him - from her - as the kiss deepened. Eloise's wrapped her arms around Sebastian's neck, soon abandoning any words as she gave herself to him completely. She pressed herself tightly against him and his hands moved down to her waist, going up and down her back, causing her to shiver at the touch, grabbing at her and pulling her even closer but it wasn't enough. Sebastian's mouth broke away from hers and she whimpered in protest that soon turned into soft gasps as he started to kiss her jaw, her neck, going down as he slid her robe slightly off of her shoulder and kissed her collarbone.

It was as if his touch was sending jolts of pure magic through her body every time he made contact with her skin. Eloise hadn't known that anything could feel like this, so intimate, so lovely, as Sebastian's lips on her shoulder. But then, whispered softly, feverishly to her collarbone, lips brushing against her skin causing a shiver to run down her spine -

From chapter 25 of Before It Felt Like A Sin 🫶