#never ever ever letting lovely runner go

[sunlighthroughthe-ashes]

i don't think we talk often enough about how tender sol is with sunjae.

my case in point is this scene during ep 6: even before sol properly realizes her feelings for sunjae; they bleed through her smallest action. the unsaid gestures of love; the tiny overtures of devotion: these are what k-dramas excel at, and lovely runner is its greatest example.

the way sol switches the fan on for sunjae (a beautiful parallel to an earlier scene where he did the same for her), and is content to marvel at his innocence, his sleep-smeared face. look at the pure delight in her smile — just to be able to witness this ordinary moment with the person she admires most in the world: her literal reason for survival.

how her expression sobers when she realizes he's as still as death: that in the dark waters of the future pooling at their feet — he IS dead. how she instantly needs to physically feel that sunjae is still breathing — how sol measures the butterfly wingbeats of his heart under her hand. how, even in his sleep, sunjae reaches out, recognizing her touch.

i need to keep your heart beating, you can almost hear sol's thoughts. i need to keep you alive.

the unsaid affection in her face is so strong, so palpable in this episode. she's always adored him; and how that sapling of care turns into a tree green-leafed with real, true romantic love — it's just as beautiful to watch the second time around.

[ssahotchnerr]

I hope you meant it to be dropped here 🥺

So, about jealous Y/n: I had been thinking about this after seeing the episode where Beth (that runner-woman?) appears. I thought about the scene, with "y/n" either getting to know he was handed a paper with a number

Or maybe Aaron and "y/n" had been running together and Beth approaches without any care and reader just is like: 🤨 watching the interaction, lol

knowing you

🤭 cw; JEALOUS fem bau!reader, teasing banter (hehe r and aaron are sooo in love), suggestion/sex allusions (i'm blushing), based off of aaron and beth's first interaction in 7x10 wc; 1.3k

"Okay, okay." You panted, coming to a stop. You directed your voice forward, loud enough for Aaron to hear you, a few feet ahead. You resumed walking, slowly, hands on your hips. "Let's take a breather, yeah?"

"What's wrong?" Aaron asked as he met you halfway, a teasing smirk growing on his face. "Can't keep up?"

"I can keep up jus' fine." You insisted, still catching your breath. The afternoon breeze blew into your face, cooling the sheer layer of sweat that had collected. "Just... not for a prolonged amount of time. There's a," Another staggered breath, "difference."

"Is there?" He asked humorously. His chest rose up and down, regulating his own breathing as well. "I can easily go another mile or two.

"Fantastic. I'm so happy for you." You quipped sarcastically, causing him to laugh and a smile of your own pulling at your lips. "And that's why you're the one participating in the triathlon. Not me."

"You know..." He began proposing in a light tone of voice, eyebrows raised wittingly. "There's still time for you to sign up."

"You know, you're funny." You bantered back, a pained expression pulling onto your face at the mere thought. You shook your head, "I think my time is better spent cheering you on from the sidelines, along with the others. And then reviving you afterwards."

"Oh yeah?" He chuckled, a fondness in his eyes. All banter aside, he switched tactics, softening to a sweet sincereness. "I appreciate you accompanying me. Seriously. You know you don't have to run with me, although you do inspire me to persistent. Gotta impress you, keep you interested."

"Please, as if there's anything you could do to cause me to become uninterested." You poked a finger at his chest. "And if running means I get to spend an extra hour with you, I'll gladly accept. Besides, there's something in it for me too. Makes it all worth it."

"And what's that?"

You looked around, spotting a park vendor supplying drinks, playfully brushing his question aside. "Want a water?"

The warm glint in his eyes lingered, admirably amused. One that read: you were the most difficult person he'd ever met, but he wouldn't have it any other way. "Sure, sweetheart."

"I'll grab it," you began walking, "You stay here. Catch your breath."

Aaron grabbed your hand the moment you had stepped a foot away, smoothly drawing you back with just an equally suave grin. Once in reach, he placed his lips onto yours, interrupting your growing smile.

Your nose scrunched when the two of you parted, "You're all sweaty."

"That's never been a problem before." His smirk returned, the wet cowlicks draped over his forehead bringing a multitude of images to come to mind.

This is why you ran with him. You'd never deprive yourself the hot visual, one you'd never get tired of. The overexertion, the sweat, the defined athletic wear clinging onto his body, the heavy breathing too.

You playfully rolled your eyes, granting him another kiss before you trailed off. You steadied your breathing again, in attempt to slow your heart rate a second time.

Retrieving the waters couldn't have taken you more than five minutes: waiting in a small line, supplying cash, issuing a thank you. But when you turned back towards Aaron, your feet already moving to their own accord, you stopped short - suddenly. As he wasn't alone.

He was talking to some woman - brunette, in workout clothes of her own. Her backside was facing you, so you couldn't see any specific features; to determine who she was, a familiar face or not.

You tried to ignore the uncomfortable sensation of jealousy filling your body, drawing the conclusion that she wasn't an old friend rather quickly. It started from the bottom of your stomach, crawling up your spine, spreading widely to your limbs.

Could it be harmless? Sure, that's what you were telling yourself, until the woman in question handed him a small piece of paper. She began to retreat - finally - causing a breath of relief to escape you, until Aaron calls after her.

When she turns, you're able to see her face. She’s cute, all smiles and outwardly confident. She responds to whatever he said, follows it with a laugh, before continuing her jog. 

You bit your lip, returning to Aaron with a bit more urgency, your ponytail gliding swiftly between your shoulder blades.

"Here," You handed Aaron his water, your gaze moving past him and continuing to watch her leave. As if she can feel your stare, she looks back. Your eyes may have been playing tricks on you, but you could've sworn she gave you a cunning smirk.

Your jaw clenched, nothing but that red-hot jealousy overtaking you. It blocks out all of your surroundings - Aaron's going on about something, but you don't hear him. He's muted, fuzzy, far away. You don't realize he's talking to you until he says your name, with a tad more volume.

You startle, blinking, "Sorry, what?"

"I said, do you want to go again? Or we can take a slow, evenly-paced walk back." His lips turned upwards humorously, taking a drink. "More your speed."

He's attempting to resume the ongoing, fun banter to draw your focus elsewhere, knowing you.

"Who was that?"

"Oh, nobody." He shrugged, securing the cap. "She just, er, handed me this." He explained carefully, holding up a small piece of paper.

He did it quickly; again, making it as nonchalant as possible. But even at the heightened speed you're able to see her number scrawled across the surface.

You immediately impede forward-

"Sweetheart," Just as he expected - he grabs your arm, holding you back from any impending confrontation you were set on.

"She gave you her number?" You looked at him, perplexed. The audacity. "Did you see the way she looked at me? She probably saw us kiss and yet-"

"I know, I know." He comforted, his voice a deep contrast compared to yours, hardening the more you spoke. He can practically feel you vibrating in fury. "Hey, it's okay. I'm discarding it, of course." He crumbled it in his fist, "Have zero need for it."

"But that doesn't excuse what she just did." You try to look past him again, but he uses his body to shield your view. "And I don't like it. Not at all."

"You're right, it doesn't, but it's okay." Aaron presses a kiss to your forehead, muttering his next sentence into your skin. "I'm yours. Nothing changes that."

"Damn right you are," you huffed, crossing your arms. Despite the distance (she's almost long gone by now), you're at the ready to grab Aaron, to kiss him fiercely if she ever so lightly takes a peek back.

"Forget about it, and I don't mean that in a dismissive way. Look at me when I say this," He tossed the paper in the nearby trash, grabbing ahold of your shoulders instead. "I'm uninterested. Unfazed. Utterly in love with you and greatly anticipating showing you how much once we're in the privacy of home. Preferably in the shower, and then again in bed afterwards."

He manages to pry a smile out of you, a blush forming at your cheeks, although it doesn't dissolve your pout just yet. "But..."

"But what?" He asked gently as he releases his hold, swiping his thumb across your cheek soothingly.

"What if she can run faster than me." You mumbled pitifully. You said so half jokingly, half seriously.

Aaron laughed warmly, spanning an arm over your shoulders and pulling you directly to his chest. "I highly doubt that."

"You promise?"

"With every ounce of me."

[sgt-tombstone]

civilian au where Ghost is a drummer who regularly plays with his band at a small club; it’s dark and small and loud and he loves it. Being on drums lets him stay out of the spotlight while still working as a team, acting as the beating heart of the band. He occasionally has solos, but he’s perfectly happy as the underlying pulse. He keeps his signature mask on during performances, adding to his mystery and, unbeknownst to him, his allure.

Johnny works as a bartender and drink runner at the bar at the back of the club, affording him a perfect view of the stage and, coincidentally, the hot drummer that plays every other weekend. He stays too busy to really gawk, but he spares every glance he can, often catching the drummer’s eye as he weaves through the room with a drink tray held high or a shaker in his hands. His fellow bartender, Gaz, makes fun of him ceaselessly, but he couldn’t care less.

The club has a lot of regulars, to the point where Johnny knows a lot of orders by heart, knows what “the regular” means to a lot of patrons, which is how he instantly clocks the newcomer. He’s tall and broad and blond, with a deeply scarred face and dark brown eyes that are almost hard to see in the dark room. Johnny’s favorite band isn’t playing that night, so he has some attention to spare for the stranger, who seems to zero in on him immediately. Normally, it’d be creepy, but he’s respectful and polite and incredibly attractive, so Johnny plays into it, throwing out a flirty wink with every drink order.

And so it goes; Johnny eyes Ghost from afar and flirts with the stranger—Simon, he learns—whenever he drops by. He never notices the pattern, that Simon never attends the shows that Ghost plays, and a part of him feels guilty for his split attractions, but he never sees either of them ever actually going anywhere, so there’s no harm, right?

And then he watches Ghost step off the stage at the end of one of his performances and make a bee-line for the bar, evidently parched after spending several hours under the hot lights. It’s something he’s never done before; normally, the lead singer or bassist orders drinks for the whole band after their sets. He watches in anticipation as Ghost approaches, only for his jaw to drop and eyes to widen as Ghost pulls off his mask to reveal… Simon. It’s his worlds colliding and he feels like he’s seeing double, but his internal panic lasts only a second before Simon is laughing, obviously deeply enjoying Johnny’s floundering, and then Johnny starts laughing too, because what else can he do?

A lot, as it turns out, because he asks Simon out that night, and they spend the rest of the weekend wandering the city and wrapped in each other’s beds. After that, Ghost’s shows are still Johnny’s favorite, but for a completely different reason. Simon still comes to watch whenever Johnny’s working and he’s not playing, and Johnny’s boss, Price, can never really get too mad when Johnny pays for attention to Simon than the rest of their patrons, especially when Ghost proposes on stage after one of his performances a year later

[jishyucks]

⋆.˚ Twinkle, Twinkle ˚.⋆ — lmk (Teaser)

‣ pairing: mark lee x reader

‣  genre: fluff, friends-to-lovers

‣ current wc: 5.6k (so far), about 65% done, predicted 10k

‣ summary: The world is sick and tired of your and Mark’s inability to understand feelings. With a friendship that has lasted longer than you can count on your fingers and friends who can tell you’re both utterly in love with each other, the universe decides to make use of its different light forms to tip you both over the edge of friendship.

‣ warnings (so far): some cliches?, like one kms joke, mentions of alcohol, mentions of vomiting (cause of alcohol)

‣ an: this idea has been rotting in my drafts since like February and i finally got the motivation to write it yippeeee,,, tag list maybe? just ask!

Without light, it’d be awfully difficult to see (duh)

Mark’s bed was the 2nd most comfiest bed in the world, a close runner-up to your parents’.

His mother truly chose the perfect pillow for you to use, paired with a blanket that complimented it well. They both smelled like fresh laundry, an aroma you were familiar with because your best friend smelled exactly like this.

The clock on Mark’s nightstand reads 12:23 AM, moonlight pushing past his closed shutters to emit a bit of its light into his room. Its light does poorly, giving the glow-in-the-dark stars on Mark’s ceiling a chance to emerge through the darkness.

Your mind’s filled with thoughts of the conclusion of the movie you both had just watched—Tangled—and your younger self could not help but think…

“Mark?” you called out into the darkness, “Mark, are you awake?”

There’s shuffling in the space next to you and then you hear Mark hum, “I’m awake. Why?”

You hesitate to ask the question that’s been keeping your brain occupied ever since the credits started rolling. But knowing Mark, he wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

“Do you…”

You can barely see Mark’s head lift up to look at you in the darkness, bedhead creating a jagged outline.

“Do you think I’ll ever fall in love and get married like Rapunzel did in the movie?”

Your mind replays the clips of Rapunzel and Eugene underneath the lanterns, lights creating a scene you’ll never forget for the rest of your life.

Mark hums again, something that he did when he was deep in thought. Your question wasn’t too far-fetched. He’s overheard a lot of the other girls in his class talking about crushes they’ve had on other classmates or squealing over that one idol he couldn’t remember the name of. The only difference now was that these thoughts were coming out of you.

“Do you think you won’t?” Was Mark’s reply.

At the time, you really didn’t know what you were saying, barely having the knowledge to understand the deeper meaning of it all.

Love and marriage? You weren’t aware that you had skipped practically everything before that.

“I think so.”

Mark doesn’t reply for a long while, long enough to convince you that he had fallen asleep the second you answered his question. But when you feel the bed dip, you can make out that he is now sitting up and reaching for his lamp.

Click!

You let out a quiet hiss, squeezing your eyes shut because you’re suddenly blinded.

Mark snorts, “Sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

There’s movement on his end again, the blankets softly rustling. You’re not sure what Mark was trying to do, but once you finally open your eyes, the first thing you see in the lowly-lit room are his eyes shining back at you, mouth opened slightly because he was going to say something. He’s propped up on his elbows, crushing the barrier pillow between you both.

“Why’d you have to turn the light on?” You scoot yourself up to face your best friend.

Mark shrugs as chews on his bottom lip in search of words, “I just feel like it’ll mean more if you could see me saying it.”

“Saying what?”

“You’ll find your happily ever after,” Mark says seriously. You can tell just by the way he looked at you that he was serious. Not even a hint of kidding looming behind his pupils. You forget that Mark was such an optimist.

Your brows furrow, unsure whether or not you should take this boy seriously. “And how are you so sure about that?”

Mark’s eyes reflect the light coming from his lamp and he grins. It’s almost creepy the way he does, like he has something hidden up his sleeve.

“I just am.”

[goosewithtwoos]

TOO SWEET

pairing: bob x reader

summary: bobs just too sweet

“You’re just,” you struggle to find the right words. “too sweet.”

Bob furrows his brow. “Too sweet?” He asks, placing down his tea.

“Yeah, that’s you’re problem. You’re too sweet. You let people walk over you. You need to have a bit of a backbone if you want to be respected.” You explain.

The two of you were sitting in his living room, having just come back from a morning run. You hated cardio - weight lifting was a much better workout in your opinion - but Bob was a runner and had wanted you to join him for a run for so long you finally gave in.

His Naval Academy shirt was faded in stark contrast to his blue PT shorts. You’d never be caught dead in PT uniform outside of the work day but somehow he made it work.

During the run, he had been explaining how this new command was trying to keep him from hops and began training him as an unmanned aircraft system operator. Of course, it was nice to have this extra knowledge but he was a WSO and should be treated as such. He talked for most of the run, mainly because you couldn’t speak for more than three sentences without getting winded, so now was your time to offer advice.

“There’s nothing wrong with being firm.” You sip your now lukewarm coffee, making a flippant gesture with your hand.

Bob shifted in his seat. “I don’t want to seem belligerent. It is a good opportunity.”

“But it’s keeping you from your primary job.” You roll your eyes. “Come on, Bobby, you don’t actually want to be some drone operator, do you?”

His eyes dipped. “No.”

“There you go!” You exclaim. “Tell them that. Exactly like that. You want to be a WSO. You’re amazing at your job anyways, they’d be stupid to keep you from it.”

A light dust of pink began to cover Bobs’ cheeks. You knew he had a hard time receiving compliments and always tried to brush them off. Your current attempts at getting him to accept compliments was exposure therapy and you tried to interject as many as possible during your conversations.

“I’m not that good…” He mumbles into his tea as he takes another sip.

You snap your fingers at him, shaking your head. “This is what I mean. You’re letting people get into your head. Take the compliment.” He dipped his head lower, taking another lengthy sip to avoid speaking. “This is where you say, ‘You’re right’ and ‘Thank you, I know I’m amazing’.”

“I can’t say that if it’s not true.”

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to kill him or squish him. He was so adorable and yet made you want to pull your hair out. It was quite a confusing mix.

“Robert. For once, if you’ve ever loved me, take the compliment.” You say, placing down your cup.

He shrugs a little which makes you gasp in mock horror before he smiles. “Of course I love you but it’s just hard to accept.”

You shrink back in your seat, crossing your legs. “Who hurt you?” You mumble more to yourself than to him. “Have you ever taken a compliment?”

“Of course!” He cries.

You raise a brow. “Three examples, now.”

“One, when I received my acceptance to the Academy and had my college counselor beaming with pride. She told me I had done well.” He looked proud of himself remembering that one. “Two, when I graduated and my grandmother came to see me, she said that I was the smartest in the family. And three, when I-“ His voice cut off and his ears went red.

“When?” You press, leaning forward ever so slightly.

He waves you off. “Let me think of something else. It was a bad example.”

“No, no, no,” you push. “Tell me.”

He turned away, unable to meet your eyes. “When I…I went…” his voice was growing smaller by the second. He covers his mouth with the back of his hand ever so slightly before finishing the statement. “on a girl and she called me a good boy.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter that came out of you. You’d never assumed Bob would have a praise kink, and especially not one that consisted of him being called a good boy.

“I’m sorry.” You weren’t. “I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Bob was completely red by this point, opting to drink his tea rather than respond.

“I mean, were you being a good boy?” He chokes.

Sputtering, he looks at you, eyes full of panic. “I can’t answer that!”

“Oh, come on, you can tell me. I told you about my…incidents.” Incidents was a polite way to put it. Bob was the first person you’d go to whenever something had gone awry during on of your hookups due to his understanding and nonjudgmental nature. No matter what you’d say, he’d listen and nod, telling you it was always the mans fault and even though you might have called him someone else’s name, it was his problem for not having a more memorable name.

“I think I was.” He says quietly, shrugging ever so slightly.

“I bet you were.” You hum, finishing off your coffee.

Bob just stares, eyes wide and lips slightly apart. His breath hitched as he tried to form a coherent sentence. A sound that slightly resembles “Huh?” come from him and you roll your eyes.

“You’re always such a good boy, Bobby.” You mean it as a joke. You were saying it in a slightly mocking tone. So why did the words feel so right? Why were they so smooth on your lips? And why - God, why - did they seem to have such an impact on both you and him?

Something changed in his eyes. They glossed over with a feeling you didn’t think you’d ever see in him. Desire. Need.

“Say it again.” It wasn’t a question, he was demanding. Damn his pretty blue eyes.

You swallow hard. This had implications. You could tell how badly he needed it and what it was doing to him. You didn’t want to just fuck with his emotions. But you did mean it. He was a good boy. He’d always helped you with reports and post-flight write ups. He always went out of his way to make sure you were okay. He was such a good boy.

“You’re a good boy.”

His breath was coming out a bit harder now, and his hands had curled into fists like he was trying to keep himself from reaching out and touching you. Not like that would have been a bad thing.

“Can…” His voice failed him. He tried again. “Can I show you?”

“Show me how you’re a good boy?” You ask. Your heart was starting to race. You’d never seen this side of him before. He nods fervently. “Okay.”

It was barely a whisper. You weren’t even sure if a sound came out or you’d just mouthed the words but once you’d said them, that was all he needed.

He grabs you by the back of the head, tangling his fingers through your hair, and pulls you into a lip bruising kiss. This was definitely not sweet. This was needy, urgent, like he wanted to devour you. You kissed back, allowing yourself to melt into him. He was taking and you’d give him everything.

He leaned farther into you, pressing you backwards until you were laying on the couch. He was over you, pressing all his body weight down, and you could feel what suspiciously felt like him grinding against your thigh.

Your arms wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Your hips buck up, desperately trying to chase the friction against him.

His glasses felt cold against your skin and you smiled ever so slightly.

He moans into your mouth and pulls a hand from your hair down to your chest. Your hands grip into his shirt as he paws at you, feeling your ribs, waist, hips, anything he can get his hands on.

“Need to taste you.” He groans out, like it was paining him not to be nose deep within you. “Bet you taste so good.”

You’d never seen a man so worked up before. Bob was panting like he was in heat. And it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“I’m still sweaty.” You say between a laugh. He moved down to your neck, nipping at the soft skin, finding any open area and leaving a mark. He groans, pressing himself down against your thigh again.

“Bet it just makes you taste better.”

Your mind was short circuiting. Was this really the same Bob who once cried while watching a nature documentary because a penguin carried around a rock instead of an egg? The same Bob who called you when he got drunk to confess that he’d once stolen a phone charger from some gas station during a cross country trip when he’d lost his wallet at a Waffle House? Somehow, it was.

And this same Bob was pushing your shirt up and pulling your shorts down.

He looks up at you and it was a sight to behold. His mouth was slightly ajar, and his pupils blown completely wide.

“Hold these?” He asks, taking off his glasses and passing them up to you. You put them on, more as a joke than anything, but the moment he saw you wearing them, he surges forwards and kisses you again.

“So pretty.” He moans. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

You would normally feel self conscious but something about him made you feel so safe and secure. You trusted him with everything. He really was -

“Such a good boy.” You murmur as he began sliding down your body again. He stops, dropping his head so his forehead presses against your lower abdomen.

“Again.” He whispers. You could feel his breath tickling ever so slightly.

“Fuck, Robert, you’re such a good boy.” Your hand runs through his hair, pulling slightly before letting go.

He lets out a whimper before getting back to the task at hand, removing your shorts entirely, leaving you in just your underwear with your shirt pushed all the way up. He finds his place between your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders. It probably wasn’t the most comfortable position for him but in that moment, you were sure he couldn’t care less.

He licks you through your panties, moaning when your legs tense around his head.

“Please.” You moan when his tongue presses especially well against your clit. “Need you so bad.”

He eyes flit up to yours again, his glasses having fallen partially down your face so you could see just over the rims, and it was a miracle you didn’t come right then and there.

Feral, a man possessed.

He doesn’t even bother taking them off properly, he just pulls your panties to the side and dives in.

It was good. God, it was so fucking good. Your hand finds his hair again, pulling him impossibly closer to you. It was like he knew your body better than you did, the way he could alternate between fucking you with his tongue to sucking on your clit.

“Fuck, Robert,” you cry out. “You’re such a good boy. Oh my God, so good. Such a good boy, holy shit.” You were babbling at this point, the words didn’t make much sense in your mind but your mouth just kept moving. “My sweet boy, my good boy, fuck honey, you’re amazing.”

He pulls away and you want to cry. He presses kisses against your thigh while you try to remember how to breath properly.

“You taste so good. Wanna keep you here forever so I can have this forever.” He says.

You nod in agreement. “Please. You can. Anytime you want.”

His groan sends vibrations through you. You’re mind is a daze. Your hand cups his cheek, gently rubbing the side of his face. His stubble feels rough under your skin but the coarseness only makes your heart swell more.

“Gonna make me come like a good boy?” You ask, voice barely a whisper.

He responds by diving back in, tongue licking up your slit, collecting your wetness on his lips. Your back arches again, hips bucking. His glasses begin to slip off but your mind can’t care about anything other than the man who’s head is currently between your legs, showing you more pleasure than any man has shown you before.

He wraps his arm around so that his hands are free and you can feel his biceps tensing under your legs. The thought of his muscles had never turned you on before but suddenly, it caused a rush of heat to shoot through you.

His thumb comes down to play with your clit while his mouth still works your slit. The light teasing circles from his finger was such a different feeling from how his relentless and eager tongue was bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You could feel that cool in your stomach tightening. Your hips were bucking more frequently and when you felt his index finger run across your folds, you knew you were a goner.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Robert, please.” You moan.

“You don’t gotta beg.” He tells you, resting his head on your thigh for a moment, taking you in. His fingers were still working you, keeping you right on the edge. “I’ll give you everything you need.” His accent was thicker than normal and you wanted to see just how deep it could get. Another time though, you didn’t want any distractions from this current event.

When his mouth connects with your clit, you swear it was a religious experience, and you were coming before you even realized it.

“Good boy, good boy, good boy.” You keep repeating as he works you down from your high. Finally, once he deems you to be clean enough, he lifts his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Do you uh…do you want anything for yourself?”

He looks to the side sheepishly. “I’m…good.” You sit up quickly and look at him. A wet spot stains his crotch just barely visible in his PT shorts. The thought of him coming just from eating you out sends another wave through you.

Perhaps a five minute intermission before round two wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

[bear-remn]

I am ON MY KNEES, frothing at the mouth for Ayato's post! Keep up the great work!! Loved reading through em all! ♡

— ayato headcanons!

hiii, ty for waiting, ayato is one of my favorites boys in DL so i hope the love is serving, hoping you guys enjoy this post as much as i did writing it!!

tw: this post contains nsfw (+18)!!! if you don't like that content don't read it!

i had such a great time drawing this beautiful man, i really love him so i hope you guys love him as much as i do.

his looks and selfcare

so, ayato appearence... i love this man... cof cof one of my favorites cof cof... so i have a lot of thoughts on him.

to begin with i think ayato is a very, and i mean it, a very attractive man with a masculine presence and aura that makes me weak. for starting ayato is really cute and hot at the same time, and i am only talking about his face.

i think ayato face has a sharp jaw, and his smile is really a plus to his faction's, cute and both handsome at the same time, his eyes are'nt too slanted but has a very cat eye looking, has some long lashes and his gaze is very energetic, powerful, penetrating, dominant and cocky. so he has a killer eyes basically.

i like to think ayato has only one dimple, on his left cheek, it only appears when he smiles or laughs. and ayato has such a cute laugh.

but ayato face even if he has a very strong jaw, he still have a delicate and armonic face, he is a real beauty.

and bc ayato is a vampire he does'nt sweat, any, so does'nt really smell bad, but he does enjoy taking his showers, he prefers showers than baths, and it has to be a hot boiling water, he likes to relax while he cleans himself, ayato uses a scrub sponge to achieve an even greater sense of cleanliness, use a exfoliating soap and his shampoo is made of honey. he likes that smell a lot.

ayato also has a very atlethic body, he likes sports a lot! he began with the basic ones, such as basketball and soccer, but then became interested in swimming, ayato enjoys having this one in the comfort of his home.

i think ayato body is very... good, like bc he is good at sports, has some good muscles, his arms are cozy and his chest too, i love to think of ayato with big pectorals, and his abs??? omg... ayato also has a good and pominent v line, and as shu, ayato also has a (not so bushy) happy trail, i like to think that ayato is not againts his own body hair, he trims it sometimes but ayato just let his body be.

i think ayato knows how attractive he is, so he uses that to pick his clothes, like he is totally into compression shirts, dear lord. also he has a comfy but tight style, like to show his pectorals, abs and strong arms always so he puts tight fits, also likes jackets, i mean, those jackests racers use, or universal ones, or just showy and flashy jackets. very expensive too, dont like dupe's.

and i think that ayato used tio bite his nails, but since the death of his mother he stopped this, now, ayato paints them in black, not always tho, just when he is too bored and look for too long at his nails.

i think ayato also can grow a beard but he feels strange, so he shave it off, and after it he puts sunscreen only where he shaves. one time he did'nt and some acne pop out so he got scared since.

random stuff

so, ayato is really my favorite with these ones.

i think ayato is one of the most clingy and romantic one, probably bc he can't keep his hands, eyes and mouth off you but thats for later.

ayato enjoys, like really, loves romantic movies, he has seen every each one of them, really likes when the couple dont get together at the end, he thinks that is real love but he would never let his lover go.

i think ayato has win like medals of his favorites sports, except for soccer, he is'nt the runner type. and has a little shelf of trophies.

and even if ayato sleep in classes, i think he knows everyting bc how many years has he been in there? like a vampire for ever? he definetly don't need school, and in his childhood he probably studied obligated and unhappy (ofc), so when ayato learning things "obligated" in school he hates to put attention to it. i also think ayato has cheated in some exams or tests, like, he sits at the back and then copy his classmates, gets pissed if someone dont give him the answer.

and speaking about school, ayato is really popular, more than you think, i like to think that ayato is know as the treasure of his grade, i mean, he is maybe the best at gym class and don't get bad grades, he is attractive and stuff. like, you cant walk past ayato and dont look back bc he man is gorgeous.

i also think that ayato deep down, do enjoys spending time with laito and kanato, like, playing for dumb things and joking while eating, i think he do loves them, but he don't give them any kind of affection or let them have his things. oh, and ayato is very posessive, one time kanato used his soap and ayato got really mad that almost hit kanato for it. ayato dont share either food or his stuff, nothing.

i think ayato likes to go to these typical japanese festivals (idontknowthenamessorry) only for the food, and for his pretty privileges never pays, he always makes the people selling stuff give him free things.

i think ayato used to be a really insecure and anxious kid, he bited his nails and his fingers, often ended on sucking his own blood for it. and when he entered his teen ages, i think ayato pulled his hair, you know, like those people that can't help but pull it and dont notice, he had a bald spot once but no one notice.

i think ayato is the guy that when gets mad, randomly yell "bitch!" with no fucking reason, like if he is'nt finding one of his socks and gets upset, he would just yell at the air, or when someone is being terrible annoying he just yell "shut up you bitch!" its his favorite curse word. and also, when he is hearing gossip he would just comment "bitch?" like a reaction. its part of him.

oh, and a little detail, i think ayato is a little scared of religions, but not like physically, more like, he does'nt get it so always get chills from seeing religious things or hearing something related. all bc of horror religious movies, he just thinks those kind of people can be a little crazy.

nsfw

oh, i have been waiting for this, and i know you guys too so.

ayatos dick? oh dear lord.

i think ayato has a solid and proud 18 cm when is hard, like, his dick is thick and his balls also are really heavy, the tip is a little more pink and his pubic hair is there but really short and well kept. and it does'nt look up, its a little down for how heavy his dick is, and ayato always has some of liquid coming out. so his tip is glowy.

i think ayato is so dominant, he is not a bottom, but he do likes when you fignt back to be the dominant one, or talk back to him, or defy him. he really finds it hot. too submissive partner for him can be a little boring.

i think ayato loves to get reaction out of you, like he will literally try to make you nervous in all chances he gets, and his way of doing it, he is really such an ass. like if you two are studying together and he does'nt get something, he totally does but, will ask you to explain, and will play dumb until he randomly just say "i might understand if you sit on my lap... or take off you skirt, maybe like that my mind can focus on you haha" or when ayato take you blood and he is not desesperate and just having a little he will say "enjoying i see, wanting some more? i see what kind of face you are doing, dont be shy now" and his smile with his beautiful dimple? he is really a killer.

i think ayato, ofc when ayato is in love with you or just want you for himself, he is such a little kid, always holding your hand while walking or while he drives and you are by his side he is the kind of guy to hold onto you leg and squeeze it. or when he wakes up he always kiss you sleepy, or when you two say goodbye he will hug you tight and kiss you tenderly. and his kisses really are everything.

i like to think that ayato is a really good kisser, like, he knows how to go from a cute and tender kiss to a hungry and wet one, he just knows, and loves kisses too. like if you two are in a little argument and you face got a little blushed by amger he will just kiss you to shut you up and also bc he loves when you get blushed, he thinks you look so good with red cheeks "muah...what!? don't hit me! i could'nt resist you!"

oh, and if you two are together he totally is the kind of man that when passing behind you will slap you butt, not hard, he just hit it. or when you get up he also slap it, or when you bend over, or when you look pretty, he just like to touch you butt. i imagine ayato having like a normal and totally out of the clue question "hey love, do you know where my charger is?" and when you respond he kisses you "i'll go check" and slap your ass before leaving.

but oh, he doesnt only like your butt, he is obssesed with you body, i think ayato is the type of man that when you two are watching movies is touching you, like you leg, he touch it not sexually ofc, or you feet, or you hair, or any part that is comfortable for him to touch. oh and it is canon that ayato likes when you touch his hair so he also ask for that a lot when you two are just hanging out.

i think ayato can get worked up real fast, like he is so obssesed with you and so in love, in his own way, that a little peck on the lips will do to him. and after that he will try and make you get in the mood. i think ayato is not pushy about it, i mean, he tell you but he likes to work the mood first. i think ayato will start kissing you, ofc, while his hands hold your waist making you come closer, and if you two are standing up he will walk you to some surface, like a bed, a couch, a table even, he does'nt care. but not the floor tho.

and before dropping you in the bed he will squeeze your ass and slap it to then get you on bed. and he can't stand you body being so hot, bc they as vampires, dont get any kind of body heat. so he will take his shirt off before join you in bed "like what you see? be grateful for how good i treat you, ok? hehe" and his dimple really makes you weak.

me too girl, me too.

i think ayato enjoys rubbing his body against yours, like he pushes his erection against your leg as he kisses you, of course bothering your lip with his fangs, while his hands sneak under your t-shirt to pull out your bra, and his cold hands really know what they're doing, touching your skin possessively. and his breaths? when he is horny he can be vocal, but he is just so masculine.

you know when someone has such a masculine presence? and they show it with every action? but they are so pretty and handsome? thats ayato right there.

and ayato definetly will mess up with you, like he will tease your nipples through your clothes, while looking at the expressions you make "if you keep looking at me like that... i wont be able to hold myself from devour you completly" and his dick just trobs in his pants.

and he really holds back from tearing your clothes apart, like, i think ayato might take yout clothes off and just contemplate you, he loves your body. and he is going straight into your pussy.

I imagine him kneeling on the bed, he takes your legs and raises your hips to have you at the height of his mouth, he loves to eat your pussy, depending on the mood of course, it will be fast or slow, and if he is slow, he concentrates more than anything on your clit, sucking carefully and caressing it with a flat tongue "damn honey... youre so fucking wet, so good ohmm..." and he moans while eating it. he can get so pussy drunk sometimes.

and yes, he does call you honey sometimes.

and when you suck ayato's dick, he likes to be seated in the bed and you on all fours, so he can see your ass, loves to see your back as well, good arched and if you have dimples on your lower back he goes crazy, and if you suck for too long his tip his legs might shiver so ayato will take his dick off your mouth by grabbing you by your hair "fuck... don't do that honey, keep sucking me good, ok? be good for me... yes ah... only for me..."

i think for the poses that ayato likes, he probably likes a lot of them, like i think his favorites can be with your legs on his shoulders, or from behind.... but do love to have you legs on his shoulders. i imagine ayato putting it in slowly while watching you face, and his eyes are so fucking hot, he is the kind of man that will tell you with his eyes how much he desires you.

and about his pace, i do think ayato likes to start slow and deep and eventually become more rough or fast. so when he is slow he makes sure to bump a little so your tits bounce a little, and he loves to see your tits bounce, definetly will bite your ankles but not drink too much so you can keep up.

and when ayato begins to be more rough, he will slap your ass hard as he thrust you so deep, you can feel how he can touch every part of you. eventually the pose will become a mating press. his dick is just so hard and hot for you and his balls so heavy as they hit your ass.

"fuck.... ooh yes... you like that huh? you take my dick so... fucking good..."

and as ayato's balls slap your ass, he also will slap you on the cheek, not too hard tho, so then he can grab your neck and see you straight into your eyes as he keep fucking you. the room is full of wet noises and your moans, and his heavy breaths.

and ayato if feeling more horny than usual, lol, he will chain you to the bed, or put a collar with a chain to make you move. like i think ayato will be deep in you and you're too lost in it so he pulls the chain from the collar on your neck and smiles when you moan "don't take your eyes off me honey... watch me fuck you" and his abs look absolutely delicious when he thrust into you.

and if you are about to come, ayato will take it out and watch how you squirm and cry out for not cumming, frustrated bc you cant do nothing more than complain, with your hand chains keeping you in place "what? i wanted some fresh aire haha... youre melting me with that pussy of yours" and then put his heavy dick bewteen your folds, slaping a little just to hear how wet you are "hear that? your body is so honest with me... you're hole body is mine" and his cocky smile makes his dimple come out, ofc your pussy reacted to that fucking beautiful smile, so he laughs, he can be a little mean.

i think ayato do know how to make you squirt sometimes, like edging you a little, then fucking you dumb until your legs tremble in his sides, and while you cum ayato will take his dick out and slap it in your folds, and then pushing it in just where you like it over and over, and he loves to make you squirt on his dick, he thinks is so hot.

"oh fuck!... yeah... make that pussy cry... fuck yeah" and then slap your face to kiss you hungry as he keep fucking you.

oh and when ayato cums? he gets sloppy.

i think ayato can't control fully his body when he is about to cum, but one thing he always does, is taking it out and crawl on top of you while masturbating himself so he can cum in your face, and having ayato on top of you, with his dick tip on your lips, his face all messed up, his chest going up and down as he feels it coming, dear lord "open wide... be good for me honey... im close... oh fuck!" and he cums a lot, likes to see you swallow it "you did good, be grateful for making you feel good, yes?"

the aftercare is really cute with ayato, i think ayato will be exhausted after cuming maybe three times? or maybe two, so he will ask you to cuddle him, and he is the small spoon. likes to feel you touching his hair. makes him feel safe. after having a break, he will definetly get in the mood again, or if he bites you, ayato can get sleepy while doing it, but he keeps the need to fuck you more, maybe more calm and not so... him "cmon... wanna be inside you some more... be grateful, i'll make you cum just like before, what about doing it on my mouth huh? it sounds good is innit? haha"

── more of my content here!

[cdragons]

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 3

Previous Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But goddamn, Oliver Quick was a fucking close runner-up.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, slight mention of blood, sexual harassment, Felix is delulu and kind of a pig, Reader just wants some fucking peace, Michael is Michael and the best, Oliver is Oliver (the worst)

Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who commented and reblogged! I didn't expect this story to gain so many readers, and this was a challenging chapter to write - but only because there were some scenes I couldn't add because it would have gotten too long otherwise.

If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.

You really wanted to kick yourself in the pants for making such a fucking cheesy wish at night watching the stars with Michael.

Right now, you were leaning to rest your head against a bookshelf in a slant position. You had a splitting migraine that began from the moment you woke up and worsened with nausea from your tutorial. And you couldn’t even go back to your dorm for the rest of the day because your lab course for your gen-ed didn’t allow for absences.

“What’d she do now?” came a voice on your right.

You looked to the right and were blinded by a white and blue-striped button-down shirt with short sleeves tucked into a pair of tan khaki pants.

Your knight-in-silver-framed glasses, Michael Gavey, everyone.

All the guy was missing was a pocket protector with pens and tape wrapped around the bridge, and he would have matched every bullied kid in every high school movie set in the 80s.

You turned around to lean your back against the bookshelves and slowly lowered yourself until your butt was parallel to your feet. Blowing the stray hairs out of your face, you remembered to take deep breaths to prevent you from blowing up at your only friend.

“No,” you sighed, “well – yes, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Do you love your classes? Yes. Was Daria Martin still your art teacher, and did she still like you? Yes. Are the rest of your teachers mostly assholes that think all Americans are Appalachian hill-billies? Also, yes. But were you still not excelling and scoring in the top ten after every exam? Naturally, no doubt about it.

But were you as invisible and unnoticed as you were before the break came? No. Did anyone with a pulse give you side-eyed glances after your stunt with the 24/7 shit-faced He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named? Pretty much, yes. Did most of your problems come from one mythic bitch in a 5’3” flesh suit that had the ‘Juicy’ logo plastered on her ass? Namely, one in particular, Annabel – who was your assigned student partner in your tutorial.

Was your new name among the student body now “Psycho Bitch”? …Unfortunately, yes.

…Okay, so this term has not been going as well as you had hoped during the break.

Annabel hated you – like hated-HATED you. And you had no idea why.

You were pretty sure you were less than blank air to her last term, but now she was determined to make your life a living hell. Last term, she skipped every other session to do whatever Annabel did. But now, it felt like she came to every tutorial for the opportunity to tear apart your work.

You’re pretty confident she was the one who started your new “name” about a few weeks ago when the weather began to warm up.

It’s not as if you were a stranger to being picked and prodded by the people born with silver spoons on their tongues and blessed with golden-tipped wings. You were a public-school kid from grades K-12 who went to Townsend Harris for those last four years. Townsend Harris High School was a public school, but make no mistake – it was just as full of the same bullshit hierarchy that made up every private school in Manhattan.

"Open the doors to all. Let the children of the rich and the poor take their seats together and know of no distinction save that of industry, good conduct, and intellect."

What crock. You only survived those years because every kid knew that your dad was an NYU professor who knew the Dean of Admissions of Columbia. You couldn’t recall how often you wished you had joined your friends at Flushing High or even Bayside.

However, regardless of the snide snarks and bullshit snickers pointed at you, you were left alone for the most part.

Sure – it sucked; that goes without saying. It was naïve of you to assume that people would grow out of the need for drama once they walked through the ivory doors and marble floors of higher education. It was stupid of you to think that everyone would forget about your outburst at Bodleian while they were getting drunk on the New Year.

And while Annabel was one migraine-inducing problem, she wasn’t the worst part of returning. No, that title belonged to her boyfriend, a whole other can of monkeys.

The worst part – the worst part of EVERYTHING – was how Felix fucking Catton was incapable of just leaving you the hell alone. It was like he had a little antenna sticking out of his head specifically for you whenever the two of you were within a ten-foot radius of him. Everywhere you went, it was as if you had a giant blinking arrow above you screaming, “Felix Catton’s New Toy”!

No, you were less than a toy – you were a joke, a gimmick.

God, you should have just stuck to your original plan and applied to any SUNY school that would have accepted you without even looking at your application.

But no, your good-Samaritan-obsessed college counselor called your parents and complained that you weren’t “putting yourself out there” enough. And now you were over thirty-four hundred miles away from home, stuck with the worst people ever. It was like a thousand tiny prickles were running on your skin as your mind filled with static.

Whenever Felix called out to you, it was to invite you to a party or get wasted. One time, he walked up to you insanely plastered and invited you for a quickie in the men’s bathroom. You were in an empty lecture hall since your usual spot in the library was taken, and Michael was still in class, so you didn’t see the point in trying to find an open spot.

Somehow – without you noticing – the guy plopped himself next to you and asked if there were any rooms in the building where he could smoke a joint in.

“Pretty sure you could open the window in the bathroom to smoke in there,” you replied absentmindedly.

And then he put his hand ON YOUR THIGH, leaned to your ear to whisper, “Wanna get out of here to join me? We don’t have only to get high.”

You grabbed all your shit and booked it – out of the building and all the way to your dorm to take a shower that lasted for around twenty minutes. You wanted to get rid of the smell of nicotine and overpriced aftershave. The scent of him on your skin made you wish you could tear it off.

And in your panic, you left your bike at the building’s entrance.

When you returned to retrieve it, it was after dark, and you recruited Michael as your tall and bony human shield.

“Do not ever walk home alone at night,” your mom told you every morning you left for school.

You tried not to think about the haunted look in her eyes each time she told you.

“Wanna skip the dining hall tonight? We can walk to Crowley Street and order take-out at that Pakistani place you like so much.”

Oh, that perked you right up. Jannahs Express was a broke college student’s paradise. The food was cheap, and the owners took pity on the international students. It was slightly more expensive in the UK, but it was the closest you could find with food on par to Kababish on Broadway in Queens. You stifled a laugh remembering the sight of Michael drinking the entire pitcher of water after you dared him to try a dish at ‘regular.’

“Seriously? Do you think you could take more than ‘English-mild’?” you asked as you stood up. “How did you survive your mom’s cooking for so long? She made us Indian food on our last night.”

“Mum grew up in London, and she had neighbors teach her how to make it the traditional way. You’re the only person who could take that level. Lilypad and I got Dad’s taste buds.”

Choking on your spit from laughing at the image of Gregory Gavey’s face turning firetruck red, you felt the migraine slowly disappear.

“Yeah, I’ll bet. God, I can’t imagine the look on his face when –”

A familiar voice that left a bitter taste in your mouth after hearing interrupted your conversation.

“Hey, (Y/N). Can we talk?”

You and Michael turned your heads to find Oliver Quick – Michael’s former friend, your former acquaintance – and the sight of him soured the mood instantaneously. You narrowed your eyes to dangerous slits to show your displeasure seeing him as one corner of your lip curled to show a sneer. You never liked the guy. There was just something about how he acted and presented himself. He had a profound desperation to impress everyone around him.

So much so that he immediately dropped Michael after becoming Felix Catton’s new pet. As evidenced by the oversized gray zip-up hoodie blanketing him. Felix’s, no doubt.

Fuck, you hated him.

“Ugh, what do you want?” you snapped, taking a bit of pleasure in seeing how your voice made him flinch.

“Look, can we –” his eyes hastily darted to Michael, then you, then behind him to make sure no one was watching him “– can we talk in private?”

Seriously? That’s how he wants to play this?

In the corner of your eye, you saw how tightly Michael clenched his fists. He was obviously still hurt from the time his ex-friend treated him like shit.

Oh, this will not do.

“Oliver,” you snarled as you crossed your arms over your chest, “whatever the hell you have to say to me, you can say in front of Michael.”

“Can you please not do this now?” he begged with pathetic eyes. How very in-character of him.

“Tick tock, Quick. Are you going to talk, or do I have to throw a drink in your face again? But this time, I’ll smash the glass on your face, too.”

Seeing the look on his face gave you almost a perverse sense of joy. Maybe this is why bullies exist.

“Do you think you’ll be at the pub sometime this week?”

What the fuck? Was he serious? His question caught you completely off-guard. You expected him to ask for notes or even help with homework, as his grades have slipped since becoming an official Felix Catton fanboy.

“At the pub – Oliver, when have I drunk alcohol in the entire time we’ve known each other?”

“You’ll turn nineteen this year, right? It’s only illegal if you’re under 18,” he tried to put out convincingly.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. But you’re forgetting the part where I’m still an American citizen. Just because it’s legal for me to vote doesn’t mean it’s okay for me to drink yet.”

“No one cares about that here!” he almost shouted. “Just come with me to the pub at King’s Arms for the next few nights.”

“No fucking way,” you scoffed. “My parents would kill me if they found out I drank on a school night. Also, in case you forgot, we still have our test tomorrow in History. And I, for one, don’t need to get sloshed every night to feel important.”

Michael tugged on your sleeve and nodded at the small crowd forming around you three. You sighed in silence, agreeing that it wasn’t worth it. You both tried to walk away, but you were grabbed and stumbled back, which caused you to drop your books.

“Ow! Are you kidding–” but a wince broke your complaint as Oliver’s hold on your arm tightened to a painful grip. Your eyes traveled to his face, and you were shocked to see the anger shining in his eyes.

“Why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?” he grit out. “Are you trying to ruin my life?”

The way his nails dug into your skin made you curse under your breath. Seeing you in pain broke Michael out of his shock at how someone as meek as Oliver Quick could show so much aggression. He rushed to get him off you.

“Are you fucking mental?” he hissed at Oliver once he managed to separate to two of you.

But Oliver’s nail left red scratch marks down to your wrist, even breaking the skin enough to cause little beads of blood to escape. This enraged Michael like you have never seen. Staring at the evidence of his former friend’s clawing, he walked forward and pushed him to the bookshelf before grabbing his shirt with both hands.

“What’s wrong with you?” Michael yelled. “She already said no!”

You wiped the blood off your arm with an old travel tissue pack you stole from the plane you took from JFK to London last summer. God, everyone was staring at you guys now. You needed to find a way to contain the situation. If any staff catches you, all three of you may risk trouble. Trouble that would jeopardize your scholarships. You grabbed Michael’s hands to get him to loosen his grip.

“Look, I’ll hear you out–” you looked around and cringed at everyone’s stares, “–just not here.”

This calmed Oliver’s rage enough to get Michael to let go.

“Okay,” he whispered, “okay – yeah. Let’s go outside.”

The three of you grabbed your shit and quickly exited the library. You went to the same area behind the building with no windows – ergo, no bystanders to gawk at you.

“Okay, we’re outside. Look, I’m sorry about your arm. But can you please just –”

You lifted your hand to stop him.

“Okay, look. I only said I would hear you out to make you and Michael stop fighting,” you stated matter-of-factly. “None of us could afford to get in trouble with the faculty and staff, and it was getting too out-of-hand. Oliver, I am not going to King Arm’s tonight or any night you ask me. I have my own life, so don’t drag me into yours.”

Oliver gaped like a fish for a few seconds before speaking.

“But you have to! Please! If you do, then maybe he’ll –”

“WHO?” you interrupted, shouting. “Who will be there? Who is so important that you act so fucking psycho for five minutes ago?”

This was too much for you to deal with everything on your plate already.

“Cut the vague bullshit already! Why are you desperate for me to be there? It’s so –” You froze as an epiphany struck down you.

Oh, hell fucking no…

“Are you hoping that Felix will be there?” you asked through clenched teeth.

You felt like a volcano ready to blow with his slight nod. And like a volcano – you blew.

“You mean to tell me that you risked all our asses, attacked, and humiliated me for fucking FELIX CATTON?!”

You couldn’t believe it – you couldn’t fucking believe it. Felix Catton took up so much of your life already; once again, he felt it necessary to take more of it for himself.

How much more could one man take? How much more did he want until it was enough?

He had taken so much – more than any person other than yourself had any right to own. Your education, your peace, and what was next? Your body? Your life? Did he intend to bleed you dry of everything like a parasitic vampire he and his kind pretended not to be?

You were going crazy, insane, and running yourself tired all at once. The absurdity of it all made you laugh. You laughed and laughed and laughed until you were gasping for air. You laughed so hard that tears spilled from your eyes as you doubled over.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god! That’s it. Of course, it is. What else could it be?”

Standing straight, you kept laughing, but you were staring at Oliver with an answer clear in your eyes.

“He got bored of you,” you accused him, “didn’t he? So quickly?”

God, how you relished how red his face turned. If you were smart, you would have stopped taunting there – but you were too tired of everything to care.

“It’s been what? A month? Maybe two?” you further pressed. “He really just loves to go through all his toys, huh?”

“(Y/N),” Michael whispered in your ear, “let’s just go.”

He looked at Oliver with disdainful eyes before softening them to look back at you.

“He isn’t worth it. Come on, let’s get your cut cleaned up before we leave.”

You let Michael gently drag you away from the hurricane mess that was Oliver Quick, leaving him to stew in anger and wallow in self-pity on the chilly spring night.

A few days later, you and Michael were walking back to his dorm after watching one of the most notable movie franchises starring one of Hollywood’s best actors.

“How could you not love Pirates of the Caribbean?” you cried. “Johnny Depp is beyond brilliant!”

“Oh, so acting drunk in front of an expensive camera is now considered brilliant?” he quipped back. “Shit, I should have just gone into acting instead.”

“I’m sorry, do you not remember his jar of dirt? That scene was completely improvised, by the way – including his fall.”

“Oh – not the stupid jar of dirt! Lil’ kept buggering me all summer doing that scene after I took her to see it!”

“Oh, I meant to ask. What did Lily think of the books I got for her birthday? Were they weird?”

“Are you kidding? She loved them. She keeps going on about how she wants to be Annabeth for Halloween. Oh, by the way, she’s making me dress up as Luke and wants you to go as Thalia.”

Your jaw dropped in shock. “Seriously?! Yes, let’s do it. I am so in.”

“She is aware that Luke’s the villain, right?”

“Don’t worry about it so much. She wants to share these memories with you. And you are such a good brother, Mikey.”

“I am never going to escape that name with you,” he groaned, “am I?”

“Nope!” you happily confirmed. “Never! When I write my speech at your wedding, I will mention it at least fifteen times.”

“I’ll allow six.”

“Twelve.”

“Ten, take it or leave it.”

“Ten it is. Pinky-swear.”

You held out your pinky to show sincerity. And like someone raised correctly, Michael respected the sanctity of the swear by reciprocating.

“Perfect! Now that that’s settled, is it okay if I crash at your place for the night? It’s so late, and we don’t have classes tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied. “Just make sure you – Annabel.”

Wait, what? You stopped walking and turned to look at your friend in confusion.

“Annabel?”

He pointed it out in front of him with a slight nod.

“Annabel,” he confirmed.

Indeed, it was Annabel. But she was sitting slumped against the hallway’s walls with vomit all over her blue dress.

Felix had been going mad for the past few months since his and Farleigh’s return to Oxford. It was already almost May, and he hadn’t come any closer to getting (Y/N)’s attention.

What could he possibly be doing that was so wrong?

He invites you to parties or a drink with you every time he sees you. He had hoped that being friends with Ollie would have given him an “in” with you, but there was no such luck. Did you really have no idea how he felt about you? How much more obvious could he be?

He remembered how happy he was when he realized that Oliver knew you. It was that night at the pub at Kings’ Arms. He recalled it so vividly.

Felix was silent throughout the entire transaction. The sight of you coming over entirely transfixed him. Your hair had two small braids on the side that were attached with small yellow butterfly clips. You were wearing black denim overalls with vintage-looking patches sewn onto the fabric. Your shirt was a light blue-dyed shirt-sleeved t-shirt with splotches of navy blue. It must have been something you made when you were little. The fabric looked soft and worn down. But the size was small enough to hug the curves of your upper torso perfectly. The way the fabric stretched across your tits made him salivate.

After he introduced himself to you, you only responded with a grimace and a slight nod of acknowledgment. He invited you to join him and his friends for a drink, but you only ignored him. His words were meaningless breezes to you – white noise in the background that added to the clang and chatter in the room. He wasn’t even paying attention to Oliver until you threw that drink at him.

“Fucking cunt-rag!” you called Ollie after throwing Farleigh’s drink in his face. You shoved a middle finger for added effect. “Don’t ever show your face in front of me again.”

Grabbing your coat, you stomped away from the table.

Absentmindedly handing his friend some tissues, Felix had to know what your deal was with Oliver. Were you two dating or just friends? He didn’t know how he felt about his new friend being romantically involved with his angel.

“Wait, do you two know each other?” he asked.

“What?” asked Oliver – not understanding his idol’s question before his mind finally registered it. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, she’s a friend of a friend.”

“Were you two ever, like ‘together’?” Felix had to know.

Oliver’s eyes widened a bit before shaking his head and panickedly answering.

“No, no, no. We have a few classes together – that’s it.”

Felix couldn’t believe his luck. Ollie must really be his hero.

“Do you think you could introduce us?” he asked excitedly – his molten chocolate eyes were shining ablaze with hope.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Oliver quickly agreed – anything to keep his attention on him.

Felix felt like leaping to the sky. He could run a marathon with how much energy was flooding throughout him. He clapped his hands before grabbing Ollie’s face with both hands and smacking a wet kiss on both cheeks.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” Felix went up to get him another pint. “You’re my hero, Ollie. You really are.”

As he lay on his bed, he tried to remember every interaction with you. His last one with you was something he could admit went horribly wrong.

He wandered on the grounds when he stumbled on a building with your bike on the rack. Figuring that you were just in a lecture, Felix figured he could try to catch up with you when it was done. It wasn’t like he had anything important later. He would stay near the entrance and try to catch your attention when you walked out.

Simple.

And because he was God’s favorite, he found you sitting in the middle of an empty classroom. You were taking notes while reading a massive textbook while lightly bobbing your head to whatever was blasting through your earbuds.

Sliding to the seat next to you, he smoothly asked you if there was any room where he could smoke. You didn’t even bother to look at him while answering him – too fixated with your studies to pay attention to him.

Knowing that he had to get you to look at him through more direct actions, Felix impulsively put his hand on your thigh before asking you if you wanted to join him. He even joked, saying that you didn’t only have to get high.

But seeing the terror in your eyes threw him off. He quickly wanted to tell you that he was only joking. If you knew that he wasn’t being serious, maybe you would ease up around him. But before he could apologize, you frantically stood from your seat to gather your books in your bag before running out of the room.

Felix groaned into his hands as he recalled how fast you ran out of the room and away from him.

“Felix, you’re a fucking idiot,” he softly insulted himself.

God, what the hell was wrong with him? Why did he think that someone as studious as you would ever consider getting high with some bloke in the bathroom of an academic building?

Every step he tried to take forward with you felt like he was going ten steps back. He needed to find a way to get on your good side.

Maybe Ollie could – no, that was a dead end. Fuck, he needed a drink.

Lying on his bed, Oliver stared at the ceiling of his room. Annabel had just left with the bottle of vodka they had been drinking out of for the past half hour. He wanted to cry.

Why was everything going wrong?

But he knew the reason. It was you.

He was so naïve to think you wouldn’t be an obstacle. You had practically ruined everything from the beginning. It wasn’t just when you refused to help him the other day but also that night at the pub at Kings’ Arms.

While Felix was ordering him a drink, Oliver sat bewildered at the sequence of events that had transpired in the past five minutes. First, Felix invited him over to sit with him and his friends. And when things had been so well, you interrupted his excellent time by asking where Michael was. When you realize he has left your friend alone, you ask for Farleigh Start’s drink before throwing it in his face. You then called him a “cunt-rag” before storming off like a goddamn child.

Luckily, Felix hadn’t listened to you speak. But that was only because he stared at you – stared at you like he was born to worship you. Even worse, Felix asked him if he could introduce the two of you at some point. The way Felix’s eyes widened in glee when Oliver agreed enraged him – even more than when you insulted and almost humiliated him in front of Felix.

Staring at his back, Oliver figured Felix’s attention on you wasn’t something to worry about. He was only interested in you because you were pretty. As much as you infuriated him, Oliver admitted that you had a rare and genuine beauty to you. He didn’t know whether it was your indifference for Oxford’s gods and kings or your dedication to keeping in touch with your American roots – but it was enough to enrapture Felix Catton temporarily.

No, Oliver Quick had no reason to worry. He would be enough for Felix. And then you would be an afterthought, and he’d be Felix Catton’s everything.

Oliver had to find a way to ensure you wouldn't be a problem anymore. You'd comply - there would come a time when you won't have a choice.

Let me know if you want me to write the full scene of Reader throwing the drink at Oliver!

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @aemondsbabe, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss, @immyowndefender, @ilovemydinoboi, @ahristata, @cxp1d, @jinsoulorbitzen12, @temptation-waits, @bollzinurmouth, @jcngw0ns, @seababehh, @destinydestnation, @lankyboi4, @mindless-rock, @cassavacakes

Please comment and/or reblog your thoughts and if you want to be added to the taglist!

[ynbabe]

IVY TRIO X MALE! READER- INCORRECT QUOTES

Newt: Can I be frank with you guys? Minho: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help. Thomas: Can I still be Thomas? Y/n: Shh, let Frank speak.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Newt: Do you love Minho? Thomas: Yeah, I do. Newt: y/n! I told you I knew it! You owe me 100 bucks! y/n: We all love Minho.You should've asked if they were IN love with them. Thomas: I thought that was implied. y/n: ... Newt: ... Thomas, looking straight at y/n: Congrats newt, you just won 100 bucks.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Newt, mother TM: *Screams* Y/n, Father TM: * Screams louder to assert dominance* Thomas, new to the glade: Should we do something?! Minho, observing his weekly soap opera: No, I want to see who wins this.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Newt: Where's Thomas? Y/n: Don't worry, I'll find him. Y/n, shouting: Minho sucks! Thomas, distantly: Minho is the best person ever! Fuck you! Y/n: Found him.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Newt, giving Thomas a tour of the glade: What do you want then? Thomas, looking at Minho sleeping in Y/n's lap: Er… something runner-related. Newt, trying not to laugh: What department is this? Thomas, blushing: Sorry? Newt: Well, if it's work-related you'd obviously know what department this is. What department is this? Thomas: * looks at Minho and Y/n* Some sort of homosexual department?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Newt: Y/n, I'm sad. Y/n: *Holds out arms for a hug* It's going to be okay. Thomas: Minho, I'm sad. Minho, nodding: mood.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Minho: What's it like being tall? Y/n: Is it nice? Thomas: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards? Newt: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Newt: On the count of three, what's your favourite cake? One, two, three- Newt and Y/n, in unison: Chocolate cake peanut butter frosting with chocolate chunks! Thomas: Our turn, Minho! One, two, three- vanilla! Minho, deadpan: I've never had cake, what is cake.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Newt:, concerned bf You guys worried about Y/n? Thomas, the child TM: Totally! Minho, mean-ass mfer who's secretly crying: Yeah, he called me in the middle of the night and just yelled, "What do I do, what do I do, what do I do, what do I do?" Newt: And what'd you say? Minho: "I dunno, I dunno, I dunno, I dunno." Thomas: Newt: He's lucky to have you as a friend.

[calqlate]

THE LOVE & DEEPSPACE MLS AND THEIR KDRAMA ML COUNTERPARTS

INCLUDES: rafayel + sylus + xavier + zayne

WARNING(S): might be ooc bc i don't really keep up with the lore so there might be some inconsistencies (oops) (pls be gentle) (it's 10pm here and my brain is running on adrenaline) + contains some canon lore drops ig

MASTERLIST

NOTE(S): i will never stop inserting my fandoms into kdramas bc i love seeing worlds collide. anw pls partake in this brainrot with me 🤩

— RAFAYEL

ryu sunjae from lovely runner - they are both absolute losers for their respective lovers. i can picture rafayel in that one scene where sunjae was blowing kisses towards sol's house. no matter how hard his beloved tries to cut him out from their life to save him, he will always find his way back into their life.

jeong guwon from my demon - similar to sunjae, guwon is also another loser for his wife. (tbh i can imagine rafayel as a down bad simp for his lover; cue thomas sighing and shaking his head.) i can picture rafayel in the scene whereby guwon and dohee were doing that tango while fighting off their enemies too?!?!

lee yeon from tale of the nine-tailed - continuing the loser boy train, we have yeon as the final dude to add in this group. (specifically yeon from s2, bc the way he wanted to go back to his timeline so badly to see jiah matches rafayel's "the only person i'll ever love is my lover" energy.) their backstories also match in the sense that yeon never stopped searching for jiah and rafayel never stopped waiting for his bride.

— SYLUS

myulmang from doom at your service - not me choosing myulmang bc they both made contracts to their beloveds [clown emoji]. but nonetheless they're similar in the sense that they won't think twice about eliminating someone who hurts their lover.

shin wooyeo from my roommate is a gumiho - again, another contract situation. wooyeo is a "classier" version of sylus imo, and one who uses less pet names. if sylus were the ml in this kdrama, he would defo keep an even more watchful eye on his beloved so that she doesn't go about losing his fox bead. (aur naur iw to write a gumiho au for sylus now...)

lee youngjoon from what's wrong with secretary kim? - similar to youngjoon, sylus will never let his lover leave. they want to leave his mansion? he will try 101 (legal) ways to make them stay. they will find snacks they like in their room more often. they will find new (and expensive) clothes in their wardrobe. heck, even an all-expenses-paid vacation! he wants to keep them close to him; he's afraid of them upping him to leave.

— XAVIER

goo yeonjun from a time called you - like yeonjun, xavier has literally went back in time to save his beloved. he wants to see then safe and sound, and as long as they're happy, he's happy. as long as they're alive and breathing, he's fine with not being by their side. just watching them live their life is enough for him.

haru from extraordinary you - totally not projecting my all-time fav kdrama on him (or am i?) but xavier and haru have similar mannerisms and personality traits. yk how in the first few episodes danoh was dragging haru around and this guy just remained silent and followed along until one day he just started speaking? yeah that's the same with this guy. the person he likes could yap all day and he would willingly sit and listen.

moon seoha from see you in my 19th life - similar to seoha, xavier loves once in his life and he will only ever love his little star. he would never get over their death and if he's the one responsible for their death, he would be all the more upset with himself. he would throw himself into work all day and refuse to love again, thinking he shouldn't be able to fall in love ever again since he took his beloved's one chance of staying alive and happy away.

— ZAYNE

moon suho from black knight - they're both so overprotective of the one they love. the way suho essentially told sharon that haera is the only woman he would ever love is something i can picture zayne doing. if someone is out there trying to harm his beloved, you'd best believe zayne would do his best to prevent that from happening, even if it means giving up his own life.

lee suhyeok from bora! deborah - when zayne loves, he loves hard. like suhyeok, he's clumsy at expressing his affections, choosing to keep everything to himself and wait until he's 100% certain it's the right time to say whatever he wants to say. and sometimes, that can lead to disastrous endings (see also: suhyeok getting dumped on the same day he went to buy an engagement ring for his girlfriend). both men are careful to a fault, all the more so with their beloved because they're scared of losing someone precious to them again.

yoo jihyuk from marry my husband - zayne, like jihyuk, would willingly stand aside and watch the one he loves fall in love with someone else. he would be supportive and wouldn't try to fight for their affection. his motto is "if they're happy, i'm happy" and he can live being an unmarried old man as long as he sees them happy.

© CALQLATE. all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, repost, or translate my works on any platform.

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Jinwoo x Artist! Fem! Reader: Drabbles ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 035 ✦ ┆・

[ Self-Deprecation, Cheesy Hs Love, mentions of bullying, Kyunnie making a fic for herself, Fluff Ending ]

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Admiration ] ¡! ❞

After the past years of schoolyears, you swore to never again make friends or even try anything to get attention on yourself. The plan for the remaining years is to just disappear like a ghost.

Not again, you wont open your heart, you will never let anyone in.

You wont go through another betrayal, you wont get picked on again, you wont ever let anyone hurt your heart anymore.

But ah, the way your heart stopped when you saw a tall guy with dashing ebony locks, his lazy grey eyes, a sharp angled jawline as if carved out by god's hands and a physique so perfect he might as well drop off of highschool and become an idol.

He felt your gaze from the other side of the classroom and his grey eyes would sweep towards yours— Instinctively making you avert your gaze from him.

Your heart is racing, it's suffocating, it doesn't feel pleasant.

It doesn't feel pleasant.

It does not.

So like a little a coward, you purposely started avoiding Jinwoo. You never try to meet his gaze, nor have you ever tried to be next to you.

The feeling in your heart is just so unpleasant. You don't know why, but Jinwoo's presence is making your heart race.

You thought it was just anxiety really, but secretly you studied Jinwoo's face when he wasn't looking.

Look down on the paper on your desk,

And start sketching.

You really don't know why you're doing this, perhaps it is to figure out just why he makes your heart race so much, to figure out why he just seems so... Different in a way.

Is it the way he talks? The way he carries himself? The way he seems just so... Unique?

What is it really? What makes him so different?

How can he make your heart squeeze itself like it felt like you're dying? How can he make you so fidgety even just bypassing by him?

You memorized the way his hair behaves, the way his clothes move along with him, the way his alluring grey eyes seemed to have a language of their own.

A language that makes you feel so lightheaded.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jinwoo had always known your little gaze on him, and he grew curious about it. You're always hovering somewhere near him, but not too near. When he comes close even by just 20 steps— You scramble and run away like a kitten.

Cute.

Just like he was in your eyes, you were in his.

Not romantically, at least, not yet.

He heard small rumours about you here and there, how you were bullied in the previous years. Jinwoo couldn't get the details, and though he can in a heartbeat— He chose not to pry into your private life.

You weren't attempting to stalk him on that level, so he wont neither.

He'll let you hang around him, you're a harmless little kitten who doesn't meow after all.

It's no big deal.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

"You ready, hyung?" His teammate says as they all prepare on the trakcs for their daily training.

"Of course" Jinwoo hums.

Truthfully, he's bored, deathly bored.

When everyone thinks he is running like a damn road runner; he feels as if he is going on a walk.

Not even a jog.

A damn walk.

But he has to.

He passes by you and like a cliche, romance novel— The wind blows towards your hair and your strands toussle while your eyes are just focused on the journal in front of you.

Charming.

It was absolutely charming, you looked like you didn't belong here.

Jinwoo though in that split second that you should be in front of a canvas instead, inside of an atelier wearing an apron with a palette on your hand.

He momentarily looses his focus before hearing his teammates running behind him and he snaps back to it.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Page after Page after Page.

All of the pages are just full of him, only him.

Only Jinwoo.

It was only until you counted fifty pages of just Jinwoo that you realize that you in fact, are in love with him.

But why though?

Of all the cute guys and older oppas in the school— You're specifically attracted to Jinwoo?

There's just something... Magical about him. You've always love the prettier and mystical things, you love to live in a dream.

Perhaps its a coping mechanism you developed after all the bullying and mocking you went through in your previous years.

Reality is a sad, sad place.

It's dark and gloomy, the only pretty place sin this twisted hell are the flowers growing in the cracks.

The thought of having feelings for Jinwoo honestly brought a shiver down your spine. After all, you swore to never open your heart and let someone in.

But somehow, that tiny, tiny little box in your heart had Jinwoo containing it.

It's alright.

It'll past. It's just another little crush. Another infatuation.

This is normal, you're a teenaged girl.

But god, days turned into weeks.

And each time you would fall for him more and more.

It's torture, you don't know how to voice out your feelings. You don't know how to keep this overwhelming endearment under lock and key.

Isn't this supposed to be just a little crush?

If so, how come your control over yourself is slipping? Is this even infatuation at this point?

If its not infatuation, then what is it?

With a pen and paper in hand, you started jotting down stuff.

Mind as well make a little love letter.

Cheesy? Of course.

But it's going to be anonymous so surely it's fine.

Maybe if you do this, your feelings will be gone if you see him throw the letter away.

Crumple.

Crumple.

Crumple.

The sound of crumpled papers filled your room for the whole night.

You have to make the perfect love letter

You need to make the perfect love letter.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

You were going to sneak up into the classroom in wee early hours of school. Jinwoo is an early bird in school, soyou had to be even earlier.

As you shuffled around in your feet, you instinctively hid behind the bushes.

You can hear Jinwoo's voice.

And another girl's voice.

You swear its him, you were eavesdropping but the words werent registering.

The only thing you are realizing is that Jinwoo has... A gentler tone. His voice isnt bored. Not lazy, just... A little soft.

You had always been very focused on voices, you managed to pick up on even the slight shift on tones because it was your way to dtermine if people are fooling you or mocking you passive-agressively.

The more you listened, the more you felt hopeless.

It was then you realized Jinwoo must have some thing with another girl.

And you honestly... Felt awful, you felt terrible.

Because how dare you make a love letter to someone else's man?

How dare you like someone's man?

How dare you?

No wonder you are all alone, no wonder you are betrayed by your friends, no wonder you were bullied.

You're a fucking freak.

Jinwoo's affections will never be yours, it will never be bestowed upon your pitiful soul.

You're ugly, you're a worthless, piece of shit that is unloved.

So knock it off already, bastard.

So carefully you crawl away, making sure not to step on any leaves or make any rustle as you scurry away.

You then throw the carefully made envelop on the bin and go up the classroom.

while your lonely, sad letter in the bin— Faded into black shadows.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

"I'll pick you up after you club," Jinwoo said, ruffling his sister's head who whined in response.

"No, I will go out with my friends after for a crepe!" Jinah whines, stomping. "Oppa, knock it off!"

"Does mom know?" He inquires, amused at his sister's stubborness.

"Yeah, and so does dad!" Jinah beams. "Let me go, yeah?"

"Fine," Jinwoo rolls his eyes. "Don't come home after dark, if you do, call me"

Jinah would only pout, but nods her head as her brother shooed her away.

Jinwoo would watch his sister go to the nearby middle school, smiling softly as Jinah sees her friends and runs to her friends.

"My king," Beru's tiny little head appears beside him, "My liege's muse has thrown a letter"

"Hm?" He perks up in curiousity, holding his hand up to receive the discarded letter. "Huh. How cute."

Jinwoo hummed, turning the envelope over to admire the intricately designed envelope that was a scrapbook paper folded so expertly.

He then opens the thing carefully, to which Jinwoo felt like he was opening a letter from hundreds of years ago because it had a wax seal on it.

Instantly, a refreshing scent would waft through his nose.

It was your scent.

Not that you sprayed the paper with cologne, it's just that Jinwoo has a bloodhound nose and can pick up your scent anywhere.

Carefully, he unfolds the paper that was written in classic cursive.

My dear, sweet star I wonder which dream you have come from How so do you capture my heart with no effort? I can never know, I would never find out My heart aches for you, It is painful and unpleasant But also not so painful You're like a delicate twinkling thing on my dark night sky So close and yet so far You are of another world from Of another reality But how is it that my heart yearns for yours? Your grey eyes akin to a benevolent god's gaze, I find myself lost in them, And in those grey eyes I beg to be drowned in, The abyss I will willingly throw myself into May I love you? May I be allowed to hold these feelings for you? My dear beloved star, May I be selfish just this once and keep you in the small box in my heart? In this world full of madness and woe, Your gentle, sweet and pleasant presence gives me mercy Perhaps you are an angel Or a fleeting snowflake passing by O dear, beloved star Linger in my gaze a little while longer Live in my life for just a bit more Let me love you for quite a bit more

Underneath the poem was a sketch of Jinwoo, a delicately made one. The hunter's face was red to the very tip of his ears. He has never once received a love letter, okay maybe he did when he was in the future but not at this age and with this much effort. It even had a little artwork of him and it made Jinwoo bashful like he is an actual teenage boy.

"God..." Jinwoo groans, scratching the back of his nape as he felt... So fluffy. "You're so cute it's driving me mad"

He continues to sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

It's obvious you're going to continue avoiding him for quite a while. Between you and him, he was the man.

And what is a man to do?

He does the pursuing.

With a deep sigh and a rosy hue on his cheeks as looks up at the sky;

"Your star? Sure." He smiles as the wind blows in his direction. "If I'm your star, you'll be my goddess."

꒰ A/N: I'm so sorry for being selfish I just cant help myself xDDD!!! I havent written in so long so this is very clumsy and terrible srry guys hahahah!!! But man,,,, I lovee my woowoo so much<33 ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[sunlighthroughthe-ashes]

there's this fragment from a poem by armenian translator and poet paruyr sevak; that i wholeheartedly believe sums up the nature of sunjae's emotions towards sol: "you have become so tender / and so vulnerable, / as if you're living without skin. / — that's love."

sunjae has no defenses when it comes to sol. from the first time he looked at her warm, sunlit face; to that last cold night in the darkness; lying on an open road — his heart was hers and hers alone. he belonged to her across timelines, across universes: across and beyond the finality of death itself.

he offered up his whole soul; his whole self — to sol without so much as a protest or murmur. he handed over all the unguarded parts of him; the aching intimacies, the hungers of a thousand hopes. "have it," the soft solemnity of his eyes always said to her, in every single scene. "have it all. have all of me. who else but you was meant for all this possession?"

with or without his memory, sunjae never tried to resist the spell of sol's smile, the sacred song of her touch. he surrendered to loving her in a heartbeat — he was fated to fall for her in every universe.

he never fought it. he never tried to hide it; nor the naked longing that lingered in his mind: a beacon of light leading him to sol. sunjae walked into his love for her with his arms wide open.

and he never let go, not even for a second. 💛💙

[pedge-page]

I’m absolutely IN. LOVE. with ur Joel/baby Sarah/wife!Reader masterlist and all their wacky adventures 😍🤪! When u have the time and if u feel drawn to the suggestion, I hope to see reader and Joel have a cute hubby & wifey moment (either before or after Sarah, ur pick) and not just Joel having high blood pressure all the time 🤣. Have an awesome weekend!!! 😘

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: My Wife, My Love, My Life

notes: thank you for the request! Decided to make this one after Sarah is born but the focus towards the end is Joel and Reader.

Warnings: Oral m!receiving, blowjob, facial, very brief unprotective penetration

18+ ONLY

- - - -

You didn’t ever think this day would come. Not now, not so soon at least, but certainly you had hoped it would never come.

Yet as you packed your suitcase, your eyes welled with tears. Your bedroom, the one you’d shared with your husband for years for every single night you two were together, was about to be foreign. No longer sharing his warm embrace, his caresses and morning kisses.

 You were leaving him behind.

 Memoriese placate your mind, routines and dents of the bed were about to be disrupted for the first time, and your heart ached at the idea.

Worst yet, you were leaving your own daughter, your sweet little angel who was not even one year old. She’s too young, should you even be separated from her at this age? How badly would this scar her? How much would she remember her own mother, who showed nothing but love and care and smiles for her entire existence, how much would that penetrate her memory of you as you abandon your family—

“Are you crying’ again?” Joel asks from the doorway. “It’s only a week!”

You sniffle and toss your blazer into your bag, avoiding him. “I don’t wanna go.”

You’re just traveling for a brief work trip just for the week then you’ll be back this time next Sunday, but STILL. All of those things hold true(ish), and it still hurts to have to say goodbye—

“Would you relax, honey. Christ.”

Even if your husband doesn’t care, you know Sarah will feel the pain of her own Momma leaving her behind with no reason she can possibly come to understand—

 “You are so clingy and needy—“

JOEL WOULDYOUSHUTTHEFUCKUP I'MHAVINGAMOMENT, DAMNIT.

You sigh heavily and zip up the bag before lugging it to the ground. He raises his eyebrow as you storm by, his arms folded with a bemused smirk.

“Oh it’s funny to you? Guess you do want me gone—“

“It’s a week,” he reminds you firmly, his hands rubbing along bothy your arms. “It’s gonna be like a vacation for you!” 

His words of encouragement suck ass because your ideal vacation is with your family. No, this was more like hell. 

And Joel seemed to be loving every minute of it.

“Don’t forget ya moisturizer, oh and I packed ya some snacks for the plane. Plus some pepper spray, which you gotta put in your checked bag cuz they ain’t gonna let ya through security. Your passport is in your purse already…” 

He was practically ushering you straight out the door. Running around the house like road runner, athering everything ahead of time, getting your little carry on and security tag and even breakfast quickly made for you to ‘make you not worry about a thing’.

No. The fucker was getting rid of you for sure, and glad of it—

“Stop sitting there with that face,” he says.

You sit down and shove your eggs in your mouth. “What face?” You snap.

“The ‘he’s intentionally trying to get rid of you’ one you got on right now. Just want ya to be prepared is all.”

You quickly wipe your expression but scowl at him when he has his back turned. 

After breakfast, you kissed your baby goodbye. She was still sleeping soundly in her crib. Joel supervised you from the hall to make sure you didn’t try to sneak her into your purse so you could take her with you.

“Ok you have enough milk in the freezer and some already thawed in the fridge when she wakes up. You have teething rings, you know how to heat her bottle, you have her burp blanket—“ you list each one on your fingers as he backing you up to the car.

“Yes,yes,yes,yes! Honey, I got it all—“

“I bought groceries already for the week —“

“And if ya missed anything, I can go grab it myself. I can cook, you know that. Got ya in bed with my food before so—“

“Joel I’m serious.” You stop him. but as you think it over, you know he’s right. He’s like a pro at taking care of you and Sarah. You’re just trying to avoid the feeling that she’s gonna miss you gone. 

Maybe she won’t even notice you're gone…

Joel catches your eyes faltering, lips trembling as water shines in your eyes. 

“Nonono! It’s gonna be okay.” He hugs you, his soft hands securely stroking your back until he can feel you breathe slowly again.

“I know I know. I’m just. I’m gonna miss you both.”

“The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll be back,” he hums reassuringly. 

You pull away and frown. “Definitely looking forward to getting rid of me—“ you seethe under your breath.

“OH GET IN THE DAMN CAR.”

-

Joel just got the text from you that you on time and safely boarded onto the flight. He knows you’ll be out of contact with cell service for the majority of the week since you were going to be out of the states, so he’s glad you were able to message him this last time. 

And while no he was NOT glad you were leaving, he wasn’t complaining either. You needed some alone time. You were preggo monster for 9 months and now non stop mom ever since. He could tell from the bags under your eyes and short temper that you needed a little vacation. It didn’t matter if you realized it or not. This conference was a blessing in disguise. There would only be a few hours a day of work stuff, then you could go to the pool, the gym, get a massage, anything you wanted was included.

And he’d get some fantastic quiet time without your nagging just for a little. A mini vacation for him too for the first time in…well, ever.

A win-win for you both.

Sarah was just rousing from her sleep, stretching her arms wide with a big yawn and wiggly toes. He sends a quick pic of her with her hazy eyes before scooping her up.

“Ready for some food, girlie?” He nuzzles his face into her chest, and she giggles happily.

It takes probably 5 minutes of Sarah sucking down her bottle in her high chair on her own before she’s looking around the strangely vacant house.

“Mum-ma?” She asks curiously, just as Joel returns to dump some cereal on her tray.

“Mommy’s left to go go on a trip. Just you and me this week, kid.” He rubs her head affectionately.

Joel really didn’t expect Sarah to fully grasp anything he says, but evidently she did understand “mommy” and “left” and that was it.

Her face scrunches up and she immediately launches into the loudest cries known to man. 

Joel was prepared for this. “Okay, okay Sarah, I know, you miss Momma,” he grabs a host of items: her pacifer, her bunny stuffed animal, her favorite chocolate that you told Joel she couldn’t have but he whips out for energencies like this. Even with his smiling face level with her pained one, wiggling each item excitedly, nothing seemed to be doing the trick. If anything, she wailed longer and harsher, kicking the table and slamming her bottle down until it rattled to the floor.

He eventually picks her up and tries rocking and bouncing, but she just shakes her head furiously. Her face is all red, fat tears dampening her little cotton onesie, with one hand scrunching his shirt and pushing him off. “You get this drama queen shit from your mom,” he tuts.

He sets her down on the floor, and Sarah immediately starts crawling towards the garage door, pointing to Joel to open it.

“She ain’t there, baby. She’ll be back—“

She screams harder, aggressively patting the door and looking back at him like she’s pleading.

He scoops her up again and takes her to the living room. He’s running out of ideas to get her to settle. Checked her diaper just in case, rejected any food, all toys were no hope. He was gonna lose his hearing at this rate.

Joel thought it would take at least the rest of the day before she would notice but this shit might be harder than he thought. If she kept huffing and puffing to keep taking a scream, or shed any more waterfall of tears, he’d have to take her to the hospital for dehydration and shortness of breath.

Sarah crawls over to the couch and yanks on the dangling blanket, pulling down pillows all over top her. He chuckles as she disappears into the mound, but can see her little form navigating from the top. Finally, the sandworm baby stops moving, and he notices her crying desist.

“Oh shit. I already killed her.”

He gently pulls pillows away until he finds Sarah with her face down, diaper bum up and her nose buried in your favorite blanket. She was smelling your scent, and that seemed to calm her almost immediately. Joel sits down and pulls the blanket free, and Sarah panics, reaching out for it desperately. He hands it back to her, and she grips it tightly, pushing her face into the soft coziness. It was still slightly warm with your body heat. Since you use it every time you’re in the living room, it smelled exactly like you.

Sarah takes a deep breath, clearing her cries. She crawls into Joel’s lap and tugs as much of it as she can along with her, sitting down between his thighs and cuddling the blanket around her.

Joel grabs the other end and smells it, and your scent floods his brain with endorphins. “I miss her too, bubba.” He leans and plants a kiss on her head, giving her the pinky back into her now accepting mouth.

She continued to play with her toys on the floor, blanket right next to her everywhere she went. Sometimes, she would just pause and nuzzle her face into it, sighing deeply and then continuing. Even Spoon was feeling the effects. Curled up by the door, whining occasionally, but otherwise just guarding the entrance, waiting for your return. Joel even pitied the big girl and allowed her on the bed so she could curl up into your spot.

Sarah was on her best behavior as much as she could be. She only cried when she was hungry or needed changing. She understood there’s no humor in bullying Joel unless you were here to punish him. 

Things were going great so far for him. 

And Joel felt pretty relaxed too. He could catch up on some programs, get some work done, go to bed when he needed it. It was peaceful.

But it wasn’t until a few nights in that he noticed life wasn’t as dandy. And it wasn’t Sarah that was making it evident.

It was him.

-

As you board your flight back home, nothing brings you more peace of mind than imagining walking back into your house. 

Joel was right, this was somewhat of a mini vacation. And while it was nice, the bed wasn’t right. Didn’t matter how much money they spent on the king sized memory foam body conforming mattress with silk sheets and pressure release pillows. It just wasn’t the same as the 10 year old spring queen sized mattress that you and Joel had been cramming your asses on since you moved in together and the flat-no shape pillow that you had since you were in college. No amount of Michelin star chef prepared meals could match Joel’s empanadas and rice. 

There wasn’t even anything to compare to being curled up with Joel and Sarah on the couch, watching tv until you both fell asleep in his strong, secure arms.

So in the end, you were right (as always). And damned be Joel, but you wouldn’t be listening to him ever again. If you have to go on a trip again, you’ll just bring them along or quit your job. Easy peasy.

Part of you wonders if he was still having a superb time away from you. Doing all kinds of work around the house without you nagging or asking for dinner, or having him fetch a billion snacks for you because you’re too lazy to get up, or rub your feet or your back or your calves or your clit, or getting a blanket or turning on the fan…damn you were annoying as well. And he does it all. He’s probably gonna see you walk in and sigh disappointingly, joking that he wished it lasted longer. You wonder if he and Sarah now morphed into best of pals, and she no longer considered you her #1. 

Oh fuck, I’m gonna start crying on the damn plane.

 By the time you landed, you couldn’t get in touch with Joel. you had received a text selfie image of him and Sarah smiling with the caption “Can’t wait to see you!”. You smile to yourself. God, you’ll risk getting a ticket just to speed home right now.

1.5 hours after you drive home, you open the familiar door. The aroma of home surrounds you, and you couldn’t be happier.

As does a squealing baby being carried by your big ass husband, who both immediately attack you out of thin hair with warm hugs. Spoon wags excitedly beneath you.

You nuzzle yourself into Joel’s neck just as Sarah nuzzles herself into your chest. The four of you stand there for moment, eyes closed and silently grateful.

And wafting. 

Joel and Sarah’s noses and Spoon's especially were twitching and sucking in air against your skin and clothes, more so than hugging you.

“Oh are we…we are smelling me…” you say matter-of-factly but a little confused. Shit do I smell that bad??

He’s about to say something when you snatch Sarah and begin talking to her. She  comfortably hands on your hip as you two chat (well, more like you chat and she babbles excitedly but you return the audience). It was late, and as you rocked her to sleep in your arms, you set her down in her crib, rubbing her belly softly as she soothed to sleep.

You close the door behind you when another hand gently clasps yours.

Joel doesn’t say anything, which surprises you. He’s more stoic than usual. He takes you down the hall and into your bathroom and turns on the tub.

He starts shucking off your clothing without a word. Shirt over head, then bra clasp, pants unzipped and dragged down. you can’t even stop him, he’s so gentle yet determined. and truthfully, you didnt have it in you to give him return home sex he’d probably been missing.

“Joel,” you say softly, and he shivers. “Um, I’m a little tired, but I promise tomorrow I will—“

“Tub,” he commands. 

You tilt your head in confusion but step into the basin, now stark naked. The water is just perfect. You sink in until it’s level with your chest. Joel mixes in some suds and pulls his mini stool next to the edge, and begins massaging your shoulders.

“Oh honey you don’t need to do that,” you insist. “I got a massage when I was there…” 

He doesn’t say anything but keeps going. And it’s not until he really finds your sensitive areas that you realize you do, in fact, need this. You sigh contently as he works the particularly troublesome knots in your shoulders, then gently over your neck. His hands, god you miss those hands, feel like heaven. After a few moments of you letting out soft moans, he lathers your expensive ‘for rare occasion’ shampoo and begins slathering it in your hair. With exceptional care, he works his fingers in circles, and you can feel your eyes going cross eyed with the thorough job he’s spoiling you with. Your whole body feels relaxed like a warm sheet of butter folding into a decadent pastry.  You simmer and sink down even lower, indicating you’re incredibly tranquil. 

He still remains silent. You can’t see him as you face the opposite end of the bathroom. Just the two of your breathing falling in sync.

Once finished, he pats you dry with fresh and warm towels, carries you bridal style to your bed.

You think now maybe he’s gotten you ready and pliant so he can rail your back out of place, but instead, he lays you on your side of the bed and tucks you into the sheets.

He tosses his socks and plows into the bed on his side, crawling up to you and putting himself face down into your chest and neck. He takes the biggest, longest breath possible through his nose before letting it out with a satisfied hum. Closing his eyes, Joel allows himself to relax, surrounding himself with you, his hand protectively over your stomach and absent-mindedly swishing back and forth with his thumb.

You giggle, smelling his sweet brown curls and rolling his hair through your fingers. “Did my clingy needy husband miss me?” You tease.

He’s already snoring and drooling into your breasts.

-

Joel’s having an out of body experience right now, and he can’t tell if he’s dreaming. There’s a fantastic, tingling, pleasurable feeling dancing along his entire body. He stirs slightly, letting out an audible groan. Something is warm against him, wet and moving, and it feels like a massage from heaven. He can’t exactly piece together what it is, still floating through his subconscious trying to rouse him awake, but still so blissfully relaxed he can’t quite fully awaken yet. He was out so deep last night in your embrace. Surrounded by your presence, your smell, your touch and breath and love and body. 

His lashes flutter open, and the ceiling blur takes shape before him. He’s lying on his back in the bed, with something heavy against his lower half. sounds make their way to his ear, his own rugged gasps getting louder as the sensations more clearly are identified, sending signals of euphoria to his brain. He rasps out, eyes widening, and groggily tilts his chin down to see you; your mouth sloppily taking his hardened cock over and over, slurping the saliva and coating him with your talented tongue. You suck on his tip before working down his massive length, your other hand expertly jerking in rhythm what you can’t fit.

He chokes, still unsure if what he’s seeing and feeling is a dream. He hopes it’s not a dream. 

The sounds from his throat cause you to peer up. A slight warm, loving grin tugging at your lips to make eye contact with him as you give him the morning blow job of his life.

And that does it for him. He yelps, stomach tightening before hot ropes of his seed shoot out of his tip like a canon. You bare down and suction your lips to his pulsing dick, feeling each throb deposit his sticky hot cum into your mouth. You gulp and gulp over and over, not nearly quick enough as his cream overwhelms you and bulges out of your cheeks. Even after you’ve coughed, his cock doesn’t stop, splashing all over your face in ribbons, one after the other, as he lets out drawn out moans, eyes rolled back and head arched into the pillow. He’s seeing stars, ruining your face like a mud mask of his spent. By the time he’s finished, he looks back down to see your slightly shocked expression, mouth agape with cum pouring down your forehead and eyelids, cheeks and chin, back onto his stomach.

He’s struggling to return from cloud nine. Brain hasn’t been this foggy even when high and drunk. He feels like sinking into the mattress and retiring from life.

You finally chuckle at his current state. “You didn’t get off all week did you?” He shakes his head side to side, eyes closed. You crawl up next to him, using his bedside tissues to wipe your face clean.

“I hope you liked it, I couldn’t wait for you to wake up—“

“Quit your job,” he says quietly.

He opens his eyes and rolls over to kiss your forehead and lie on top of you, his body conforming to yours. You feel his face nudged into your neck again as his back relaxes. You give him a confused look.

“I’ll take on extra projects,” he continues plainly. “Work extended nights. Just don’t leave us like that again.”

You cup his face in your hands to look at you. He’s sincere, kissing your palms and rubbing his cheek into your touch like a puppy. 

You can’t help but smile.

“You missed me that much? Thought it was a mini vacation!”

He shakes his head. “It sucked,” he pouts like a child, hugging you tighter.

It was by the 4th night in that Joel realized it.

He prepared his solo meal quietly, served Sarah her mushy food quietly, and sat down at the table quietly. With only her little happy coos here and there, and him blowing on his own meal, he never realized just how quiet everything is without you.

Your chair was empty. Your side of the bed was cold. The house was so vacant without one person that it almost just feels like a building rather than a home. He realized he just gets up, feeds and talks to Sarah and spends time with her, then as soon as she’s in bed, he’s just. Existing. There. With nothing to do. He loved taking care Sarah, but she was pretty self sustaining. She was doing a hell of a lot better than he was. He tried busying himself with housework or TV or construction projects he had been wanting to do, but it all just felt like work. Like everything he did for himself was a chore. 

He didn’t want to do anything if you weren’t there to see him by the end of the day. 

He remembers when he used to thrive when he was living by himself. But he also realized… he hasn’t lived by himself in years. Since before he met you. 

“You know I can’t quit my job, right?”

He grumbles but nods into your breasts.

“And I don’t want you taking on extra projects. I want to see you at the end of the day too. Tell you this: if I get another conference, either my family comes, or I don’t go. Deal?”

“Deal.” He kisses your chest before shimmying his way up your body until he’s fully over top you. “Otherwise I’ll tear your boss a new asshol—“

“Joel.”

“I’m just saying. Everyone wants to keep ya from me—“

“Joel.”

“N’ as your husband and baby daddy, I have a right to say where you put that ass every night and it should be right up against my di—“

“Just kiss me already.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He captures your lips with his hungrily. You feel his knees nudging yours apart, slotting himself perfectly between your bodies. The freshly hardened tip of his cock breaches your entrance, but Joel doesnt even let you gasp. His lips remain sealed on yours.

 He wasn’t going to let you get away that easily again. Not even for a second. 

- - - -

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

[justauthoring]

Running, Freedom, Salvation (Alternate Ending)

Prompt: “Run, run, run. That’s all we ever do. All we’ve ever done.” You paused, feeling the wind brush through your hair. Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself and met his eyes. “Do you think it’ll finally stop?”

Maze Runner: one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight

Scorch Trials: one - two - three - four - five - six

Death Cure: one - two - three - four - five

A/N: I honestly cannot believe i'm adding another part to RFS... but i'm finally giving people the ending they deserve lol. I honestly had so much fun writing this and I just... ahhh I wish we could go back to when I first wrote this series.

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Tag List: @blackbrokerosey - @some-fantasy-thoughts - @ilovemymoose - @alienadvocate - @itsfangirlmendes - @thatproffessionalfangirl - @nightingalethewriter - @143amberrose - @joycewrites - @floweryukheii - @hey-margot - @hippieballs - @wearegoldeninthenight - @betcoop - @crystalshines2909 - @darthweasley7 - @desired-love- - @honeymoonavenue - @legit-fandom-trash - @musicandbeat - @thespeedofwind - @sellinxhs - @sumlariss - @togetherlikepeanutbutterandjelly - @sarcasmdunbar - @strangerthingsluv - @mythicalamphitrite - @thisishowieroll - @independentgirl​ - @heathernsweets​ - @illumminated - @highly-uncomfortable-titles - @ktminn01 - @awkwardlyarts - @j-marvel-memester - @mdgrdians - @writingandhotcocoa - @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven - @verkyun - @luvelyxp - @minninugget

You don't think you've ever ran so fast.

The burn in your lungs was a familiar sensation, one you hadn't felt since you'd left the maze -- and that sense of fear? The one coursing through your veins, striking your heart and making it hard to think straight, eyes blurring with unshed tears... It was unlike anything you'd ever felt.

Please. Please make it in time.

You had... You had to make it in time. If you didn't, you didn't know what you'd do. The mere thought of losing Newt was enough to make your heart feel like it was ripping apart. He was your whole world, and you'd never once doubted that fact.

There was no time to think. No time to look back. The clock was ticking towards his inevitable death, and you refused to let the time run out.

You're gripping the serum so tightly in your hands that you're surprised it doesn't crack from the sheer pressure. But you were afraid of letting it go, of dropping it, of breaking it and every little chance of saving Newt disappearing within seconds right before your eyes. The serum in your hand was his last hope.

You can't breathe, but you continue to run. And you don't stop. Until you see Newt and Thomas, the both of them and there's a split second of relief, your feet slowing beneath you, before you blink and properly process what's happening in front of you. Newt's crouched over Thomas, a knife in his hands, inching closer and closer to piercing Thomas' chest.

And his name leaves your lips without thought, a deep guttural cry breaking past your lips that sounds so unlike you you barely register it as you screaming for him.

"Newt!"

Thomas looks at you at the sound of your voice, a sense of relief flooding his gaze, before a cry leaves his lips. The one second of him looking away had allowed Newt to gain the advantage, piercing Thomas in the chest and sinking the knife deeper and deeper in his chest.

You move without thinking, breaking out into a run once again as Newt's name leaves your lips in a shrieking cry.

This time, Newt hears you as well, head snapping to the right and eyes falling on you. You don't realize that it isn't Newt staring back at you, and rather the virus taking control of his body and so when he lunges at you, you're completely unprepared. He slams into you, you just barely managing to dodge the knife still held tightly in his hands, swiping across your face before you lose your footing, falling to the ground with a loud thud.

"Y/N!"

It's Thomas calling for you, but can't see him. Newt is on you, pressing on you enough that you can't breathe, unable to catch your breath as he moves to stab you; just like he'd tried to with Thomas.

Your hands come before you in a panic, the serum slipping from your hands and rolling away from you.

"Thomas!" You cry, using all your strength to hold Newt back; "the serum! Thomas, get the serum!"

You can't see him but you distantly hear him call out in response, before your attention is stolen back by Newt. He's too strong for you, you realize with a panic, the knife growing closer and closer, and you don't have the strength to hold him back anymore; your arms are shaking and you can't breathe properly with the weight of him on top of you.

You see a shadow fall behind Newt, hope flooding you, just as your strength gives out and you just manage to shift in time, the knife lodging itself in your upper left arm instead of your chest. A cry leaves your lips in response, pain erupting up your arm, but as you blink, you realize the weight on top of you has lifted.

"Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?"

Thomas is suddenly in front of you. hands flittering from your cheeks to your arm, now profusely bleeding, helping you sit up as your eyes dance around, confused, until they finally settle on Newt beside you, slumped over.

"It's okay, it's okay," Thomas' breathes, pulling your gaze back on him, "I got the serum, look." He holds the empty vile in front of your face, you blinking at the sight of it before falling back on Newt. "You did it, Y/N. You saved him."

Lips parting, you turn to Thomas, feeling the tears in your eyes finally fall as you let out a sob.

"It's okay," Thomas soothes.

Your eyes fall back on Newt once again, eyes flickering across him, slumped over to his side; but you see the soft rise and fall of his body and it's enough to assure you he's okay.

Hot pain erupts from your arm, causing you to hiss, looking down only to see blood bleeding into your shirt, soaking it.

"Here," Thomas calls, moving to rip off a strip of his shirt, wrapping it around your arm, pulling it tight. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to let him go after you like that."

Smiling softly, you turn to meet Thomas' eyes. "It's not your fault, Thomas. I'm sorry it took me so long to get here with the serum. If he'd hurt you..."

Thomas shakes his head; "all that matters is you did, yeah? Newt's okay."

You nod, letting your hand fall over your injured arm. Distantly, you see Thomas glance over his shoulder and you're reminded of Teresa's message. Smiling gently, you set your hand on Thomas' shoulder, pulling his gaze on you as you nod; "go," you assure. "I'll be okay."

"No, Y/N, I'm not gonna--"

"Go."

One more look at you, and then frowning, Thomas nods, moving to stand up. You send him one last smile before he turns, rushing off, and watch his figure disappear, you slowly shift, being careful not to put any pressure on your injured arm. You move until you're right next to Newt, pulling him back and towards you, right into your lap, until his face is staring up at your own.

With only silence surrounding you, you brush back the strands of hair that had fallen into his face, biting your lip.

The tears build up before you can stop them, a slight shake to your shoulders as you stare down at him, his peaceful expression staring back up at your own. The only trace of what had just happened being the sweat and grime stuck to his face, and the light traces of his veins popping over his pale skin.

"Thank God..." you breathe out, unable to stop the shake of your voice as you curl into yourself, letting your head fall on his chest as you sob. "Thank God you're okay..."

-

Rolling over, your hand instinctively reaches out, expecting to feel the familiar warmth of another body beside you, only to fall on the mildly cold, empty sheet.

Eyes peeling open, you sigh.

Pushing yourself up, you rub at your face, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you let yourself slowly wake up, taking in your surroundings. It's quiet, telling you that it's still early and nobody else is awake.

Eyes falling back on the empty spot next to you, you shake your head.

Except for one.

You move to a stand, relishing in the way the cool sand feels against your bare feet, before you push yourself up. You grab a sweater on your way out, wrapping it around you to protect yourself from the cool morning wind, pushing the flap of your tent open, eyeing both ways, before your gaze falls on a familiar figure off to the side, by the far end of the ocean.

Swallowing thickly, you make your way over, footsteps quiet so as not to wake anyone else up, silently sitting down right next to Newt.

He glances at you briefly, before looking back ahead of himself.

"You weren't in bed this morning."

"Couldn't sleep."

Frowning at his short reply, you bring your knees to your chest, hugging them. "I... I missed you."

Newt glances over at you, finally meeting your gaze, before he sighs; "YN..."

"No, Newt," you argue, shaking your head. "You've been so distant ever since we got here... and you won't tell me why. You wake up early, you go to bed late. You're always busy during the day that I never see you. You... You won't even look at me."

You can't help the way your voice chokes up, the distress of everything building as you bite your lip. "It's like you don't even love me anymore."

Newt starts at that, body straightening as he turns to look at you. His eyes are wide and his lips part, as if to argue, before his gaze flickers past your face, lower, and all the fight leaves his eyes as his shoulders slump.

Your lips part, to say something, most of all to ignore the hurt that burns deep inside of you at his complete dismissal of your words. But he's pushing himself to a stand before you can, avoiding your gaze and refusing to look at you as he walks off, without a single word.

Lips left parted, the hurt bubbles up enough to pull a sob from your lips, chest burning at the fact that he'd just walked away from you like that. Without a word.

It had been on your mind for weeks since you'd all arrived here... the second all of you had made it to the safe haven, Newt had been distant. What had started from just being quiet and avoiding your touches occassionally, had turned into him refusing to talk to you, avoiding you at all costs and all together ignoring you.

You hadn't wanted to believe it, but it really was starting to feel like he'd... just fallen out of love with you.

You sit there for a while, holding yourself as you let yourself cry, listening to your own raggid breathing and the sounds of the ocean waves, before the distinct sound of chatter reached your ears and you realized everyone else was getting up. Getting started with their day.

Sniffling, you hastily wipe at your tears, brushing your fingers along your cheeks and ignoring the heavy weight in your chest as you move to stand.

You promised you'd help Brenda with breakfast this morning, so there was no time for tears.

-

Brenda can tell there's something wrong but any time she tries to ask you, you just brush her off.

She liked to think the two of you were close, that being the only two girls of your group had helped the both of you bond. And if she asked you, you would of course say the same -- but, she didn't know you like the rest. And if you weren't going to tell her, she figured the next best bet was them.

It wasn't hard for anyone with eyes to tell that you and Newt had been distant, estranged and Brenda had a pretty big suspicion that that was the source of your problems. She'd known enough not to talk to Newt, but the boy had been pretty isolated recently, so it wasn't hard to reach Thomas and Minho alone.

"I need your guys' help."

The two boys glance at each other, before turning back to Brenda. "Yeah?"

"There's something wrong with Newt and Y/N."

Minho's eyes instantly light up in recognition, and his shoulders slump; "you noticed too, huh?"

Thomas, ever so oblivious, blinks; "noticed what?"

Both Brenda and Minho turn to him with deadpanned expressions. "They've been weird with each other. Newt has been distant with all of us, but it's like he's avoiding Y/N. He ignores her whenever she tries to talk to him, and I can tell it's hurting Y/N."

"She barely spoke this morning while we were making breakfast. She also looked like she'd been crying," Brenda explains with a frown. "And she wouldn't tell me what's wrong. But I could've sworn I saw Newt and her at the beach when I woke up this morning."

Thomas frowns; "I didn't see them."

Brenda rolls her eyes; "that's because you were half asleep."

"I'll talk to Newt," Minho offers, frowning. "Neither of you were there, but this is just like after Y/N had her accident in the maze."

Brenda's brows furrow; "the maze?"

Thomas nods; "back in the glade."

"She'd just been promoted to runner," Minho explains, "and we got separated. She said she saw a griever, but it hadn't attacked her, just stared. And then when she moved, it did, knocking her off a high pillar. I'd found her, passed out, with a broken arm and leg. I thought she was dead..." Sighing, Minho shook his head; "when I brought her back to the glade, Newt was a mess. Nobody could calm him down until we knew she was alright and then..."

"And then?"

"And then he just stopped talking to her," Minho shrugs, "he would avoid her, like he was scared of hurting her or--" Pausing, Minho's eyes widen.

Thomas shakes his head; "what?"

"He's afraid of hurting her," Minho repeats, "when he was infected, before he got the serum, Thomas, didn't he hurt Y/N?"

Blinking, Thomas nods; "yeah. He lunged at her before I could stop him, trying to kill her. Then, just as I stabbed him with the serum, he stabbed Y/N in the arm. She still has the scar." Then, pausing, Thomas adds; "but it's not like he did it on purpose. It was the flare."

"Yeah, but Newt would still feel guilty."

Brenda nods, "that's gotta be it. Minho, Thomas, you talked to Newt, i'll find Y/N. Get him to talk to her, okay?"

They both nod.

-

"Brenda--"

"Y/N."

Huffing, you roll your eyes; "I promised Aris I'd help him with dinner, I can't just--"

"I'll help him," Brenda cuts you off once again. "You looked tired this morning. You've been working so hard, you deserve a break. Me and the guys decided it."

"No more then everyone else," you sigh, "and besides, Minho and Thomas don't know what they're talking about. I'm pretty sure i've not seen Thomas stop moving all day, so really--" You pause your own rambling as you reach your tent, blinking in confusion as both Thomas and Minho make their way out of said tent. They look briefly panicked at the sight of you, you missing the glare that Brenda sends them, before they offer a smile and a wave, rushing off.

"What were--"

"No worries," Brenda cuts you off, again, "just get some rest, okay?"

With a simple slap to the back, she all but shoves you inside, not giving you any time to argue before she flips the flap of your tent shut behind you. "What the...--" Pausing at the sound of someone else, your head turns, panicked, before falling on; "Newt..."

Thomas and Minho...

It all makes sense then.

"They forced you in here, didn't they?"

Meeting your gaze, Newt nods, but doesn't say anything.

"I'm sorry," you sigh, not sure what else to say. You haven't spoken to him since this morning, and even then it hadn't been much of a conversation. Not to mention, anything before that had been short and brief as well.

You didn't know how to talk to Newt anymore.

"I don't know what they were thinking or Brenda for that--"

"I still love you."

Lips snapping shut, your body tenses at his words.

"I do love you," Newt continues, voice soft. "I'll always love you."

Shoulders falling, you glance at your feet; "then..." and you trail off, but you know Newt knows what you're talking about.

He stands then, crossing the short distance of your tent over to you. Your eyes fall on him as he stands in front of you, oddly feeling nervous, choosing to say silent as he simply reaches forward, taking your hand in his and pulling your arm up. His free hand pushes up the sleeve of your shirt, before his fingers trace across the scar there.

"I hurt you."

Confused, you shake your head; "but you weren't in control... it was the flare, Newt."

"I still hurt you," he argues, "something I promised I'd never do."

"Newt..."

"I can't be around you because I hurt you... I can't forgive myself and... i'm better off de--"

"Don't," you cut in, eyes falling shut as you shake your head. "Don't you dare say that."

"But it's true."

"It's not," you cry, unable to stop the way your voice rises, desperation sinking in. "It will never be true." Reaching forward, you push Newt's hand away from your arm, moving to cup his cheeks. "I thought I was going to lose you, Newt and if I had, I don't think I would've been able to live. You are... everything to me. There is no one I trust more, no one I would rather be with. You are my whole world."

Eyes shining with unshed tears, Newt shakes his head. "Y/N..."

"Please, Newt," you cry, "please..."

Breath shaky, Newt finally allows himself to lean into your touch. "I didn't mean to hurt you...."

"I know," you whisper, "I've never once blamed you."

"I love you so much."

The relief that coarses through you at that is undeniable. Just to hear those words, the words you've been so desperate to hear, is enough to make everything better.

"I love you too," you whisper, glancing up at Newt. "And nothing will ever change that."

-

"Well, that was a success."

Smiling, Minho nods at Brenda; "a complete success."

"He's getting a little handsy, though, so--"

"Dude," Minho huffs, grabbing Thomas' shoulder and tugging him back before he can go stomping into your tent. "Leave them alone."

"That's my sister--"

"Yeah, yeah."

[wbtsan]

SUPER ATTRACTIVE.

synopsis. your boyfriend, wooyoung, has been away for ages getting ready for his upcoming tour with his band. luckily he has a day off work and he gives you all the attention you want <3

pairing. boyfriend!wooyoung x female!reader | tags. kissing, cuddling, princess treatment & nothing else? | rating. fluff | wc. 600+

authors note. long time no see guys!!1!! im slowly returning back to writing but ill take it slow since im still recovering from all this stuff going on but start to expect more posts!!

networks. @newworldnet @illusionnet

-

ever since your boyfriend wooyoung started preparing for his upcoming tour with his band, the house has been awfully quiet. it's been feeling really lonely without him around as much. the sounds of laughter filling up the kitchen, small giggles coming from wooyoung and his smell of perfume in the house. you would constantly pull all-nighters, watching the time pass just waiting for the day when wooyoung comes through the front door. you just wished time would pass quickly and you can finally be with the love of your life for just one day.

"jagiya? where are you?" wooyoung's voice echos through the room. "jagi-" he says again, pausing. "ya?" he whispers, seeing you asleep on the couch. he takes off his shoes and jacket, carrying your bridal-style as he brings you to your shared bedroom. "w-wooyoung?" you say, half awake. "ssh, just go back to sleep dear. ill take care of you." he says, smiling softly. you smile back at him before nuzzling your head in his chest.

-

as the dazzling sun shines through the curtains, it causes you to awaken from your slumber. you tried going to the bathroom before you were pulled back down onto the bed. you were so tired that night that you forgot that wooyoung was there. "don't leave." wooyoung lazily says, wrapping his arm around your waist. you smiled at his cuteness before laying down next to him. "don't worry you little baby." "im not a baby!" he says, pouting. you laugh softly before saying, "im joking! calm down." you smile before running your fingers through his hair. he hummed softly, nuzzling his head in your neck. "how about since i've been away alot, we can bake your favorite cookies and binge watch netflix?" wooyoung suggests. your face lights up with happiness, "yes yes please!" you smile eagerly. he chuckles softly, "alright you princess."

"you better not put that cookie dough on my nose!" you yelled, running around the kitchen. "you never said i couldn't put it on your face!" he says, putting cookie dough on your face. the laughs and giggles fill up the kitchen, defending yourself to prevent him to putting more cookie dough on your face. you quickly ran to the counter and grabbed a handful of cookie dough. "this is payback!" you say as you ran up to him, putting cookie dough on his face. the tiny yells he made was super cute yet funny at the same time. you guys kept running around, preventing yourself from getting cookie dough on your faces. after a few minutes, you guys lay down on the floor together, panting. "wow, didn't expect you to be that fast of a runner." wooyoung said. "i was in the track team! what do you expect!" you say, giggling. "calm down!" wooyoung said. "let me check up on the cookies." wooyoung says, getting up from the floor.

-

"would you look at that? these cookies look really nice." he says, grabbing some plates and putting the cookies on the plates. "now, how about we watch some netflix? sound good?" "yes!" you say, excited to watch netflix with your boyfriend. wooyoung puts on stranger things and you guys eat all the cookies while watching the series. halfway into the series, you started to fall asleep on his shoulder. he looks over at you and started smiling, pausing the show and bringing you up to the bedroom before putting you under the covers. he gave you a kiss on the forehead and sat down next to you as he wrapped his arm around your waist, falling asleep next to him.

[karumbusarr]

you know, when sun jae figures out that sol is from the future, he so confidently says that he'll diligently run to 2023 to meet sol there.

we don't even question it.

realistically it's 15 years and no one in their sane mind will ask anyone of that but with sun jae, having met the 2023 sun jae in both timelines and knowing how down bad insane he's been yearning for sol despite him not having a chance yet unable to let go... we don't even question it. we don't even question the whole 'ah life moves on, people move on and drift and change' thing that'll definitely be a question with any other couple.

we just naturally accept it, yes ofc sun jae will wait and reunite with sol again, 15 years is nothing.

sun jae doesn't even have any questions, he just naturally accepts that yes ill take care of myself for the next 15 years, where's the face mask?

in the world of so called situationships, cheating, falling out of love, long distance relationship struggles, commitment issues and so on... this pure, intense love is just so wonderful to witness. ofc some situations are reasonable and can't be helped but these two who'll go against time and fate for each other just to be together... i know it's a drama and it's idealistic but just for a few hours, you live in this space where two people purely seek each other because they wouldn't want to be anywhere else, no matter how many years they've to wait.

in so many romance dramas and movies, the question of actually wanting each other comes up, with the whole second lead involvement and misunderstandings and more, but here, there's nothing. you know both of them only have eyes for each other and it's so beautiful, that's what pulls you in.

two dumbasses adoring each other and falling hard so badly that time is just a small obstacle to overcome.

sun jae, in every timeline, from the heartbroken one to the living life well one, from the high school kid to the college kid, has only ever wanted sol. he fell for her kindness and never changed. she fell for his kindness and his wonderful being in itself and now she's down bad just like him. to think he helped her through vicious hard times the college sun jae won't even be aware of.

i feel that these two pull us in so well cuz at the end of the day we all want to be loved unconditionally and these two show us that, how it must be, to be so intensely woven into each other.

and to add on to that, in every timeline, they've also always been best friends with the same kids they used to run around together in their school days. yes it's a drama but don't we all want to have life long friends who'll always be there?

in all forms, love persists here, beyond time.

lovely runner is so filled with love, kindness and devotion in all ways that you just can't help but fall in love, just as sun jae and sol fell for each other.

now, isn't this a lovely thing for all of us to witness and experience together?

[mrinafria]

Is Seon Jae corny?

One of the biggest charms of Lovely Runner for me is how it portrays a romance that is youthful, goofy, foolish and yet touches your heart in the most sensible and mature way possible. It doesn't forget it's a romcom at heart and serves us just that, so going into the show expecting a different genre is just unfair to the show (and yourself because you are the one setting yourself up for disappointment imo).

I'm not a big fan of immature childish romance devoid of any substance but that is not what we see here, despite Seon Jae being 19yo (or 20 or 34 yo). There's youthful anticipation, excitement and emotions but somehow Seon Jae's character (and Im Sol's character too, although she's always been 34yo in the main narrative) manages to transcend the notion of age and time with what he feels for Im Sol, the extent of it and the way he acts when it comes to her. Romance today is calculative and is often done in moderation, which is not necessarily a bad thing, because it is essential to learn to love ourselves too as we love someone special, but for both Im Sol and Seon Jae, loving themselves is also intrinsically connected to loving each other. Im Sol learns to appreciate life through loving Seon Jae, Seon Jae loves Im Sol because he appreciates what life has to offer.

This scene, for instance. I've rambled about this in the past too. It always warms my heart to see how, in all the timelines, he never gives up on life itself due to Im Sol not reciprocating his feelings/not remembering him. The guilt/heartbreak, longing and lovesickness are palpable in all versions of Seon Jae across all timelines but every time, he chooses to move forward in life (despite his heart being stuck in time with his Sol-ah), embracing everything life has to offer him. One of the things that becomes evident pretty early on in Lovely Runner is Seon Jae loves life. He may struggle sometimes but he doesn't think of it as a chore or burden to live on. He has things he cherishes, people he hangs out with, his dreams, aspirations, pain and struggle outside of Im Sol. He is not a pushover, he has stuff going on, he has a life. And he's not someone who'll casually say things like "I'll die for you" to anyone just to impress and get them to date him. Such grand statements don't usually make much of an impact on me as a viewer either but here, it somehow just works? Perhaps because we know he loves his life and wouldn't give it up no matter how hard things get, except for when he, his first and only love, part of his soul, is in crisis--tested by fate and time and death--and he is adamant about not letting it mess with his happiness, just like he wasn't ready to give up swimming despite Im Sol's warnings and his existing injury. That is the only time he'd make an exception: choose to live a short, worthwhile life, than live a long one devoid of any happy memories or love. It is not his childishness. In fact, he is doing what many of us can never, ever do. And perhaps that's why it doesn't sit well with some of the viewers; he complicates how we define love, happiness, fulfillment these days.

And come to think of it, he doesn't really say he'll die for her. He says Even if I die trying to save you, it's okay: it's a sad thing, Sol-ah. it's painful, yes, but it's okay. I might be worried for the remaining 14 years of my life, but that's because I'll have very little time to love you, to be in this feeling, to cherish the moments I make with you. I'll be sad that I won't see my first grey hair with you or be with you in so many of your big milestones in life, but it's okay. I'll try to make the most of whatever we get, now and tomorrow.

His sadness and heartbreak comes not from not being able to live his life to the fullest, but not being able to live his life with her. That exact same sentiment is conveyed by the final 2023 Seon Jae too, who doesn't even remember Im Sol or any of his old timeline versions and yet says the same thing.

The 2009 Seon Jae doesn't say 'I WILL die trying to save you'; he says 'if', there is a conditional. Even when he's aware of the impending doom, he doesn't give up on his life, on the 'if'. The guy with that face that has accepted a death that is yet to come, with eyes brimming with tears, with a heart determined to live hoping for an 'if' until then… when this guy makes such cheesy claims about his love and death, it's no longer an empty exaggerated promise. It hits a lot harder and leaves me momentarily breathless. That claim, stemming from the inherent human instinct to just want to be happy, and that non-calculative, selfless, pure kind of love, is exactly the thing I signed up for. That proclamation—simple, corny—is pain wrapped in momentary happiness, and my heart sinks, thinking just how fast he had to grow up in that short span of moments.

Ryu Seon Jae is like a North Star—he may not shine the brightest, but he shines bright enough in the same way, consistently, in every timeline we see him in. He is the star you could identify even in the sea of a million stars. Because that's how distinct his persona is. He may be corny and a loser, but he is corny and a loser exclusively for Im Sol, not in his life. That's the best kind of corny and loser one could find.