#nothing of all these things that happened make sense

[cosmictheo]

𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 | hwang in-ho

( gif credits to @lalaray )

—summary: for some reason, player 001 seems to like you a little too much, way more than you think. amongst the chaos after the mingle game, he gets closer to you. —pairing: hwang in-ho/young-il/player 001 x female!reader —word count: 4.5k —warnings: bro has a lot of names, +18, smut !!! (minors dni), most definitely ooc!in-ho, descriptions of the reader having female genitalia, some porn with some plot, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, slight voyeurism? (a guard outside the bathroom listening all the tea💀), sub in-ho!!!, obsessive, possessive behavior, mentions of stalking, slight manipulation, in-ho being a slut for the reader, they want each others bodies so bad, panic attack, blood, killing, yk usual squid game stuff.

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

The first thing you saw were Young-il's eyes, and then you sensed his hands resting on your shoulders, a subtle touch but one that struck your entire core, sending shivers up and down your spine, snapping you out of the trance of shock, drawing you back to reality and back to him.

“Hey, hey, shhh...” he spoke softly, leaning close to you, making all you focused on was him, his voice, his eyes, the way his lips uttered your name. Him, him, him...

“Young-il?” you breathed out, matching your respiration to his ever-calm one.

He nodded his head slightly, his fingers stroking your shoulders soothingly. “You're okay. You did so good. It's over now” his soft whispers felt like an anchor back to earth, anchors you were clinging to with all your might.

“I got you” he assured you, helping you to your feet again. It was only then that you noticed that you were still in the room set of the third game, there was only you and him left in the arena, and the multitude of bodies sprawled around the bloodstained floor, of course. Noticing your gaze drift to the dead people, his hand lifted to your chin, standing right in front of you to block your field of vision and reduce it to just him, his serene face and piercing eyes, “Just look at me, angel. Keep those pretty eyes on me, yeah?”

He delicately pleaded you, his thumb tracing patterns of grazing caresses on the skin of your chin, treating you as carefully as possible. 

And you complied, of course, succumbing to the gentle darkness contained within his eyes. Like a little lamb falling into the wolf's trap.

“There you are,” a little, honest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

A couple of guards were standing near you, watching you in silence and strangely, allowing Young-il to comfort and help you during your panic attack. The first one you had since you had arrived in the horrifying place, you hadn't cracked once, holding a tough and fearless armor.

“You are safe with me. Nothing will happen to you,” his other hand moved down from your shoulder through your arm, igniting a warm flush on your skin under the passage of his palm, all the way down to encounter yours, his fingers intertwining between yours. “I'll make sure of that, okay?”

You merely manage a trembling nod, holding his gaze. His reassuring, gentle demeanor was all you needed at that moment, in that strange place, full of strangers, he seemed to be the only familiar sight to you, the light among all the ruthless darkness. And his face, exuding concern, completely captured your heart.

Young-il offered you that one protector figure you always needed, that someone to rely on and trust even in your darkest moments.

“Come with me, please” one of the guards, the one with a square outlined on his mask, interrupted your moment, stepping up beside you, his gun pointed at the ground and not at either of you, thank goodness. His voice held a diplomatic, yet polite tone, glancing at the two of you. Young-il glanced at him with a scowl on his face, not too happy that the guard had popped onto the scene, apparently, his gaze went ice cold in the span of a millisecond, “Sir, miss, you need to go back to the main room with the other players.”

“The lady needs to freshen up a bit, could I accompany her to the bathrooms?” Young-il asked— no, rather, he actually demanded of the armed guard, his demeanor shifting to an authoritative one, straightening up and looking at the masked man with imposing eyes.

The guard looked from Young-il to you and back to him, finally nodding his head just once after a few seconds of contemplation, looking at him too long, nearly as if he was considering Young-il's expression, “Of course. Come with me, please.”

You did not decide to comment on the strange behavior of the guard, even they had been acting like human beings, empathetic and considerate. You really couldn't think of anything much at all, all you could focus on was Young-il's hand placed on your lower back as you walked together through the winding, ridiculously colorful corridors and staircases inside the seemingly infinite building.

His touch had your mind a fuzzy blur and the panic and self-doubt in your veins had already been well forgotten, replaced by a state of constant flushing, feeling so small next to him. The feeling was a good one, though. Definitely.

Ever since you had met him he had seemed to have a special liking for you, always making sure you were safe and secure, putting you above the others, making you feel protected and seen. Before every game he made sure he stayed by your side, willing to take whatever risks were necessary for both of you to come out of it alive. Gi-hun had told you a couple of times that he liked you, much more than a friend, but you refused, huffing that it wasn't the place to think about that, much less regarding a man who was married, supposedly. The two of you had really bonded so well, as if you had somehow known each other for a very long time before this.

Once you were in the bathrooms, Young-il closed the door behind both of you, leaving the square guard just outside, and then guided you towards the sinks, opening one so you could take a sip of water.

“Let me...” he quietly whispered, rolling up the sleeves of his turquoise tracksuit and soaking his hands for a few seconds before raising them to your face, running his fingers gently across your cheekbones, removing traces of blood droplets that had been lucky enough to land on your skin, he thought to himself. For some reason, everything felt more intimate than it should have.

You stood in silence, watching him with big, attentive eyes as he wiped your face delicately, as if your skin were the finest porcelain. All that could be heard for a few moments was the water running from the sink and the thundering beat of your heart, desperate to flee out of your chest and leap into his.

“Young-il?”

“Hm?” he hummed, very much focused on cleaning your face, his countenance encouraged you to ask him anything you wanted, it was peaceful and gentle.

“Why do you care so much about me?” you dared to ask him, in a low tone, brave enough to hold his gaze, which softened at your question.

He held back his hands, pulling them away from your face very slowly, analyzing your flushed face for a few moments, contemplating an answer.

“You're special. Very different from the others.”

Young-il sympathized with you, with your history, your person. Usually when he looked at you, he saw his old self, from before all this. He saw in you the good side of things, your good heart, your innocence and kindness, you were much more than a pretty face. He could see past your usual gloomy and pouty face, past your sharp and too cunning eyes, you were too much for that place. And that's why he intended to take you out of there and keep you with him, to have you by his side to care for you and provide for you.

He was excited about the idea of getting to know you further, like a new game in which he had to crack his way through. And In-ho, he was good at games.

You blushed slightly, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “Special?”

Young-il spun around, allowing you to see his side profile as he washed his hands in the sink, concealing the impulse to smirk as he noticed the immediate effect his words had on you. He had you right where he wanted you. 

Now he wasn't wearing his usual dark mask, capable of covering his each and every emotion, no, now his expressions and gestures were for everyone to see, so he had to try a little harder than usual to be cautious. As you too were very careful and cautious, always attentive to your surroundings, you had figured out the objective of the last games as soon as you arrived at the arenas. It had been a record, no other player had been as interesting and quick-witted as you. You only needed a couple of minutes, a scan through the walls, the equipment brought by the guards, and you already had the answer. You were a prodigy. Not even he knew what you were doing in there to begin with, when you should have been in the best university.

You would definitely be a favorite of the filthy V.I.P.'s and that, for some reason, made him uneasy.

“Mhm...” he hummed once again, wetting his face now, refreshing himself as well, thoughtfully, “That makes you dangerous.”

His eyes held a slight playfulness as they met yours now, and his pupils expanded as he watched you step closer to him, unwrapping your sweatshirt from around your waist and lifting it up to his face, gently wiping and drying his skin with it, running the cloth carefully over his cheekbones, forehead and chin, drying every drop of water, sweat and blood that rolled across his skin.

“Why?” you tilted your head, big, interested eyes watching him intently as you carefully wiped his cheeks.

Young-il gazed at you for a few seconds, feeling himself swooning at the careful way you were treating him. He cleared his voice subtly before replying to you, in all honesty, “You're the only one I care about in here.”

Usually In-ho encountered with people who looked at him with fear, with trembling hands, hesitant voice and submissive manners. Most guards were like that with him, he was the Front Man after all. Just a movement of his fingers, a word emitted by his voice, was enough for the whole building to move at his command, for anyone to race to do what he ordered.

But you... you simply reached out to him, touched him, treated him with care, with gentleness and softness, looking at him with warm and sympathetic eyes.

“No other person makes me feel both weak and strong” he rasped out, quietly, his warm breath brushing against your lips, which gaped at his words, his choice of words, “That's dangerous for a man like me”

You motioned to pull your hand away from his face, but he was quick to grab your wrist, stopping the movement.

“Young-il, you're married, I can't—” you hurriedly opted to go the right way, trying to talk some sense into him, shaking your head softly, blinking several times within a single minute. Your heart was already starting to beat faster and he could feel it through his thumb placed on your pulse.

He shook his head, seeking your gaze, his fingers gently squeezing your wrist, not wanting you to move too far away from him.

“I'm not married. I lied” he revealed to you, almost desperately. There was no reason for him to lie to you on that, because he knew that you were someone he could trust, and that everything that was going to happen there, would remain within those walls. A little complicity. A minor crack in the script, in the whole scheme that he had been working on for weeks.

You let him grab your wrist and the jacket of the tracksuit you had previously held in your hand fell to the floor, making a muffled noise that echoed off the quiet walls of the bathrooms. Your brow furrowed slightly, not understanding what he was talking about now.

“You lied? Why?” you asked in a low tone, as if anyone could hear you. It seemed, at least it felt like too private and all too intimate a conversation for anyone to overhear.

“I didn't want to push you away and scare you with my... life resolutions” Young-il lowered your hand now joined with his, looking at you with brighter eyes than usual, “It was the wiser thing to do.”

“Resolutions?” all you appeared to be doing was asking and asking, and In-ho, right there and then, was willing to answer all you wanted to know. Your tone of voice drifted into playfulness, void of judgment or disgust, on the contrary, you reassured him, “All of us here have made bad choices in our lives, that's why we're here. We're all the villains of society”

“Villains...” he repeated, savoring the word and approving it with a gentle nod of his head. Then he tugged on your hand, lifting it to his face, placing an affectionate kiss on your knuckles, doing all of that while keeping eye contact, “But you're not bad, not like them, not like me. You're just so good, angel.” There was the petname again, and it held the exact same effect as when he first called you that, making you blush softly, your legs trembling just barely, your core reacting instantly, your body succumbing to his, longing for him.

His fingers caressed the palm of your hand tenderly, “You have no blood on your pretty hands, no perversity in your little head, no, you're a good girl. You always have been, right?”

He read you like an open book, even though you had been cautious and reserved since the games had begun, you had not let anyone in, much less pass over the walls you had built around yourself. Yet in the span of a few minutes, Young-il had ripped them apart, tearing his way through them, into you.

You caught a glimpse of pity in his eyes.

“You don't have a debt, you just don't have anyone out there waiting for you, to take care of you, provide for you” At his words, you gulped, watching him kiss your knuckles once again, making your heart race, then his lips kissed your pulse on your wrist, and after that, he tugged you closer, placing your palm against his chest, making you feel the beat of his heart as well, “I could be the one. I could take care of you, protect you, give you everything you want. There wouldn't be anything I wouldn't do for you and those eyes. You'd just have to stick by my side, look pretty for me, hm?”

In-ho had been watching you, of course, ever since you had met Gon Ji-cheol in the subway, ever since you had encountered Gi-hun. He knew your life completely, he had grown obsessed with you. You were everything he needed, everything he wanted, the missing piece in his new life. The anchor he desperately needed, yearned to hold on to.

And to your flesh he clung, his lips making a path of light, but tentative kisses on the back of your hand, across your skin, up your arm.

“Young-il...” you breathed out his name a bit stunned by the whole sudden confession. At the sound, he felt his limbs tremble, his lips had reached your bicep and it wasn't until he kissed your shoulder that he opened his eyes so he could look at you with raw adoration, his breath joining yours at the closeness.

“I'll get you out of here, safe and sound. I won't let them touch a hair on your head” he promised, reassuring you, pulling you in, inviting you to slip into his orbit, “I just need you to trust me”

Your eyelashes grazed your cheeks as you blinked slowly, your hand rising to his shoulder, thumb brushing his neck, “How will you do that?”

“Trust me” he pleaded, staring at you for a few seconds before leaning down into you, both of his hands landing on your waist, holding you against him, his face nestled into your neck, he began to press his lips into your skin, kissing it. You close your eyes in utter pleasure, feeling yourself getting all aroused, suffocated by all the attention, the sweet words, his desire for you. 

“Would you do that for me?” he rasped out against your skin before kissing it, sucking lightly, “...hm?”

You nodded, swallowing hard, his lips rapidly kissing your throat, and suddenly, everything was him, his mouth, his breath, his hands squeezing your waist. Him... 

You lifted your chin, allowing him more access to the soft flesh of your neck, seductive lips exploring every inch of your skin.

“Yes”

“That's my girl” he cooed with tenderness, kissing your neck one last time before pulling away from it so he could look at you, not even letting you breathe the air that had slipped out of your lungs for the entirety of his doing, before he was kissing your lips like a starving man.

He breathed against your lips in between frantic open-mouth kisses. He almost felt himself melt as his ears were blessed by the delightful little noises leaking out of your mouth, panting and low moans escalating up your throat.

“Young-il…” you whispered his name, your voice sheepishly lowering as you noticed the look in his eyes, your hands clasped around his neck, fingers trembling from the thrill and sudden shame that shook you.

“Jump” he said, his tone of voice heavy with command, his hands reaching around your waist and down onto your ass to lift you up effortlessly onto the side of the sinks, balancing himself tight against you in between your legs, which wrapped around his hips and pressed him further into you, under an instinctive impulse.

You panted against his lips as you felt his erection against the inside of your thigh, his body eagerly surrendering to yours in desperation.

His commanding voice and face were something that really turned you on even more, if that was even possible. It wasn't usual for him to be this stern with you, he was usually like that with the other players, with strangers, always cautious, quiet and tactful, meticulous of his every step and every word.

“W-wait— we're going to fuck in h-here?” you somehow managed to asked in between frantic, breathless kisses, barely opening your eyes, catching him with an expression of raw lust, pupils fully dilated now.

Young-il smirked playfully, allowing you to catch your breath for a moment, hands caressing your skin appreciatively beneath the fabric of your shirt, before dropping down and laying on either side of you against the sinks, veins bulging against his skin, “You want to do it in the other room? I don't mind having an audience.”

His little tease and the way he tilted his head made you blush furiously, fingers nuzzling the back of his neck, curling between locks of his hair.

“The guard will hear us...” you tried to talk some sense into him, whispering quietly to him, leaning your head even closer, as if you were little kids sharing a forbidden secret.

But Young-il stood his ground, kissing your lips shortly, to reassure you, noticing the worry in your big eyes, “Don't worry about him, don't worry about anyone,” his hand snaked between your bodies, spreading your legs a little further apart, “He won't hear a thing, they never hear or see anything. Not if they are ordered not to”

One of his hands reached up, stroking your hair soothingly, sensing the softness of your locks between his fingers. You were perfect, perfect. And he just knew he could lose all track of time, if it meant letting himself fall into you, touching you, feeling you, worshipping you.

"Lift your hips for me, yeah?”

Obedient, you lifted your hips just a little, letting him pull the hem of your tracksuit pants down your legs, taking it out of the way of obstructing his path into you.

“I know you want this as much as I do, you don't have to say it,” he cheekily smiled, looking up at you once he had lowered your pants down until they were at the level of your ankles. On his journey upwards, he kissed the side of your leg, your knees and your thighs without taking his eyes off yours, he was ruthless and you looked so pretty to him.

“Your body speaks to me, it has spoken to me since the first game. I've noticed the way you look at me. You are a naughty girl.”

You heaved a sigh, closing your eyes and pulling your head back as his hand dipped into the center in between your legs, feeling the wetness of your panties and the heat, your cunt pulsing around nothing. Your hands, now on either side of you clasped onto the ceramics of the sinks, your back arching beautifully.

You can't help the way your body trembles, flutters and simply submits when his finger rubs your swollen clit through your panties, feeling your face and your whole body flush, feeling a sudden wave of embarrassment at the magnitude of his words and the enormity of all that was happening.

“Look at you,” he cooed, eyes locked on your pussy once he had pulled down your panties with precise but desperate motions, ran his index and middle fingers through your slick folds, making you moan, “you're soaking wet for me, just for my kisses? Fuck, you are so beautiful. My pretty, dirty girl. Letting herself be touched by a stranger.... but then again, not a stranger at all, hm?” his voice almost sounded mocking when it reached your ears, “I need to taste you,” his gaze moved up to your face, and he looked nearly pleading, he licked his lips in anticipation, fingers sinking just barely into the small entrance of your core, “may I?”

“Please—” You at once nodded feverishly, almost whimpering over the words that rushed into your throat, “Yes! Please, Young-il, please—”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, slouching closer, sinking right between your legs, his hands lingered around your knees, squeezing them against him with a possessive hold.

“In-ho” he corrected you, flushed against the skin of your inner thigh, pressing kisses along it, all too drunk already by your intoxicating scent, his mind going fuzzy with desire, the urge to make you his, “Call me In-ho”

You didn't even pause to doubt what he was telling you, Hell, you'd call him God if he asked you to. You were in the palm of his hand, on full display. His lips kissed your sex and you mentally thanked fate for putting you there, with him.

“Say it” he ordered, just before he plunged his tongue deep between your folds, knocking all the little breath left in your lungs. “Say my name, angel” the vibration of his voice against the most sensitive flesh of your body clenched the knot deep in the bottom of your belly.

“In-ho” you named him between shaky whimpers and little moans, like a prayer. One of your hands dropped to his head, fingers sinking into the black of his hair, tugging it and making him hiss against your cunt. “In-ho...”

In-ho, In-ho, In-ho...

“Good girl”

God.

He ate your pussy like it was his very last meal, lapping and drinking in everything you had to offer, every bit of wetness from you. The slurping noise burst through every wall of the bathrooms and suddenly, you didn't give a shit if the guard outside heard you, you didn't give a shit if all the guards heard you. 

They could be right there watching you, you couldn't care less, it wouldn't change the way you tugged at his hair, how your eyes rolled back and the way he was gazing up at you from below, kneeling perfectly between your legs as if they were the gates to heaven.

His tongue seemed familiar, his fingers squeezing your thighs, his eyes locked with yours, his lips kissing your sex with no breath, all the breath he needed was you. He didn't feel like a stranger, your body acquainted him, perhaps in another life. It all felt like deja vu, a reminiscence.

Your muscles tensed and he felt it through his tongue. You were about to cum, and your throat felt scratchy from all the moans and whimpers rasping through it.

“Gonna cum, baby?” he coaxed, pulling away from your cunt for just a couple of seconds, sneaking a hand in and pressing just barely at your entrance with a couple of fingers, kissing your clit and sucking it just right, “Yes you are,” he grumbled endearingly, his tongue tracing caresses all around your clit now, looking up at you.

“You're so tight” he marveled, watching in awe as your cunt eagerly attempted to suck in his fingertips, clenching and struggling to fit them. “Look at her, so eager... such a good girl, aren't you?” Once again he leaned into your clit, kissing, sucking and caressing it with his tongue, already too pussy drunk to stop. “Cum for me. Cum on my tongue, yeah, just like that”

“Holy shit, In-ho—” you hiccupped, feeling tears blur your vision, a wave of pleasure unleashing from deep in your belly. You moaned his name like a prayer, pressing his head closer to your cunt on an instinctive impulse, “Mmph!”

Maybe it was seeing his chin and mouth all dripping wet of you, or his dark, deep eyes marveling at how your pussy squeezed tight around his fingers, or his other hand sliding up under your shirt, finding one of your breasts and flicking your nipple. Maybe it was all of it, either way, you were cumming like you had never cum before. Your whole body was shaking and succumbing to the overstimulation. Succumbing to him.

In-ho gulped down everything you gave him like magic waters.

“You taste better than I imagined,” he confided, licking his index and middle finger as well, catching every trace there was of you that he could possibly consume as if it were honey.

Then, he kissed your pussy once more before standing up, sending shockwaves of electricity through your whole body with his touch, his hands settled on your hips, holding you so you wouldn't fall.

And he just smirked. He moved closer to you and kissed your mouth, making you savor your own taste through him, his hands appreciatively caressing your thighs, swiftly pulling up your panties back on.

“You're perfect, perfect,” he smoothed against your lips, his forehead leaning close to yours and he kissed you again, praising you, holding you tight in the afterglow of your orgasm, “My girl, my favorite girl, so good for me"

“We need to get back before someone starts to get suspicious,” he mumbled softly, helping you to your feet and pulling up your pants, always holding you with his hands and strong arms.

“B-but,” you retorted, your hands gripping his shoulders, still feeling your legs a little wobbly and unsteady, your dilated pupils and half-closed eyes following him as he arranged you, “I want to-”

He interrupted you, grinning warmly, stroking a lock of your hair away from your forehead before kissing your lips once more, as if closing a deal, a promise, “There will be time. Be patient, princess. We don't want the others to find out about my favoritism, do we?” seeing you still looking a bit confused, and still denying with your head, In-ho smiled playfully, “That would be very unprofessional of me, so this will be our secret”

This time you kissed him, sealing the secret.

[reignpage]

Finders Keepers

Summary: in which alien!reader crash lands right in front of Gojo and your story with him begins Word Count: 1k (just trialing a new concept so it's a quick opening) Warnings: a little cursing, allusions to experimentation and alien warfare, reader is naked but not in a sexual manner

“I can’t believe aliens actually exist,” Satoru mutters to himself. 

This has been an incredibly wild evening. 

When he stepped out of his apartment to throw the bins out, he hadn’t expected to see a blinding flash of light zoom past him and explode in the parking lot. Thank goodness for his infinity, otherwise he would not have fared as well as the minivan you landed on. 

Yes. 

You.

The woman who came straight from the sky and fell on top of a car, missing him by just two metres.

At first, he thought it was a curse; these things get pretty weird sometimes, after all. But using his Six Eyes, he could tell you were different. Sure, you looked like any other person, with arms and legs and a head. But you had a unique aura to you, positively otherworldly. 

If he was any other kind of man, he would have just left you there and pretended nothing happened — ignorance is bliss and whatnot — but what kind of Honoured One would he be if he didn’t do his duty and helped you out?

So, he slides down the massive crater you made (boy is that going to be a pain for maintenance to clean up) and carefully cradles your naked body in his arms, carefully so as to not touch bits and pieces no gentleman has a business looking at. Why are you naked anyways? 

Sensing people making their way down the stairs to inspect the commotion, he teleports back into his apartment quick as a flash before anyone could think to look through their windows. 

He throws a blanket at you and leaves you on the sofa as he paces the length of his living room and ponders what to do. On one hand, he could call the police and leave it up to them to deal with you. The government would know best about how to deal about falling space women, right? But then, don’t all the sci-fi movies talk about inhumane experimentation, weaponizing alien technology, and Area 51? 

That wouldn’t be a very nice thing to do, at all. 

And on the other hand, he could just take care of you himself. He has the means to, that’s for sure. You really don’t look any different from everyone else — surely, you need the same things he does: food, water, shelter and warmth.

Right?

Just as he’s about to pick up the phone to call his doctor friend, you begin rousing from sleep. Your eyes flutter open and they’re a normal colour, which freaks him out more if he’s going to be perfectly honest. 

“Uh,” Satoru scratches the back of his neck, shuffling on his feet a little, “hey? I’m Gojo Satoru. You can just call me Satoru, though. If you want, or can, I guess.”

You tilt your head, scanning his body, and you open your mouth. What comes out is definitely an alien language. Or maybe he needs to travel more. But he certainly does not comprehend a single thing that you say. 

Clearing his throat, he tries to smile comfortingly. “Okay, so I didn’t understand what you said. Sorry. But uh, do you need anything? Like, do you know where you are? Yeah, you definitely don’t know what I’m saying either, do you?”

You tilt your head again. 

“What is wrong with me? Seriously. What was I thinking bringing you home? You may have fallen from the sky but I’m the one that clearly hit my head. I really am an idiot.”

Glancing around the room, you don’t look any bit as frazzled and panicked as he is. Actually, you’re as cool as a cucumber, and there isn’t a hint of shame or embarrassment on your face when you push yourself off the sofa, blanket sliding down your body. 

“Woah! Woah!”

Satoru presses his hands to his eyes and leaves them there for a second or two before realising that does absolutely nothing and when he pulls them down, he doesn’t flinch when you’re standing before him, inquisitive eyes meeting his. 

His infinity is on and he’s ready to subdue you if you prove to be a threat, but so far, he’s simply letting you reorient yourself, getting used to your surroundings and giving you the opportunity to decide he’s not a bad guy. 

That being said, however, he’s still deciding whether to keep you or not. He doesn’t want you to be poked and prodded — that wouldn’t be a very cool welcome to planet Earth and he doesn’t need you to go around telling your alien friends humans suck, though they do. But he also doesn’t know if that’s the best decision. 

You could be a danger to jujitsu society, to his students, to the world. What if, right at this very moment, you’re leaking deadly radiation? And what if his infinity can’t keep it out? Can’t keep you out?

Gosh, there are so many things that could go wrong. 

It’s entirely possible too that you’re a blood sucking monster intent on wringing him dry for all he’s worth. Maybe you’re not even an alien. Maybe you’re a special kind of curse, the kind that can bypass his Six Eyes, though he’s fairly confident that’s not the case (there’s no one stronger than him, after all). 

What if this is Kenjaku all over again?

Yeah, on second thought, he should definitely call the police. Or Ijichi, or the Prime Minister of Japan, or whoever will believe him when he says there’s a naked, alien lady in his home, and no, he’s not a pervert playing out some sick fantasy.

But just as he’s lifting his phone, you lift your hand the same time he does and cover your eyes. 

Then you say his name in perfect Japanese with a sweet, soft voice, not a hint of hesitation or unsteadiness. You smile, eyes still obscured, and he feels himself mirroring your gleeful expression. 

“That’s right. I’m Satoru. It’s nice to meet you.”

He decides, there and then, to hell with radiation, alien armies, and the deadly risk you pose to everything he knows or cares about. The military, conspiracy theorists, and scientists be damned.

He’s going to keep you. 

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I Hate The New Hero!

Pt 9 - Smackdown

Warnings: Physical abuse

You wake up to a painfully bright light. Opening your eyes you notice you're in a hospital.

So, like any poor person who can't afford a trip to the hospital, you panic. You sit up straight and try to ignore the slightly discomfort in your body. A hand rests itself on your shoulder and you jump slightly, your spider sense were muddled up currently due to the cafe incident.

When you turn to see who placed the hand on your shoulder you almost scream.

Duke Thomas. Duke fucking Thomas.

This is officially the worst day of your life. How could it not be?

Duke seems to be saying something but you can't find the motivation to listen, he looks worried. People could say Duke was the kindest, most normal person in the Wayne family but you could see right through him.

Something was wrong with him. He's dangerous. He has to be, why else would your senses go into hyperdrive whenever he's around. Sure, he's the most tolerable out of them all but that doesn't make him instantly better.

-

Duke stops talking once he notices your dazed look. You look scared.

He furrows his brows and removes the hand from your shoulder, he slowly grabs your hand - so gentle he may as well think it was cracked glass.

"Y/N..?" He mutters, cursing himself silently due to how awkward it sounded coming out of his mouth. Your name was rarely uttered in the family, all talks being through messages and when talking in real life it was always 'that girl' or 'Aranea's hater'.

Never Y/N.

Duke had mixed feelings about you. He doesn't know what to think.

If only you'd just speak with Aranea, things would be so much easier. You wouldn't be so tormented. That look in your eyes - apprehension, fear, and something else he can't decipher - makes him pity you, you have opinions, they just happen to be the wrong ones.

Before Duke can speak up once more to try and snap you out of your dazed state the hospital door slams open.

Both your heads whip to the door a disheveled looking Dick Grayson is leaning against, heaving for breath.

It certainly snapped you out of it. Great. Just your luck. What is he even doing here? Gonna dump more water on you? Ruin more of your belongings? Rub in the fact you ended up in hospital?

To your surprise - and, honestly, horror - Dick rushes to your side and looks you over...

As if afraid of losing you..? What? Are you hallucinating?

You manage to hear his mutterings, his breathless whispers. It immediately enrages you.

"Thank fuck you aren't dead... I would feel so guilty.."

He would feel guilty? Him?

What about you. Not everything revolves around him.

You're the one that was 'pranked'.

You're the one that had the allergic reaction.

You're the one who now has to deal with her parent's wrath once they see the hospital bill.

With all the strength you have you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and stand up. None of them reach out to try and stable you when you stumble slightly.

You take a deep breath before glaring at Dick, you hope your hatred can override your exhaustion so you can actually look threatening.

"What are you doing here." You ask, though it wasn't phrased as a question - moreso a demand. You watch as Dick fiddles with something behind his back before sighing and handing it to you.

"I.. I wanted to apologize for the stunt I pulled. It was shitty of me to do. I bought you a new phone to make up for it though!"

You can do nothing but stare down at the phone in it's box. It was one of the expensive ones your parents always talk about wanting. You know for sure that if you arrived home they'd snatch it from you and hand one of their beat up phones in exchange.

So generous.

"Thanks, Dick..."

What else was there to do but sigh and thank him? He seems proud at your gratitude before turning and heading for the door. He stops before leaving and looks over his shoulder.

"No wonder you're a shitty person, you're room is super shitty." With a chuckle he then, finally, leaves. You hunch over in agitation. You are so done with the Wayne family - and you still need to deal with Duke.

Speaking of, his voice finally reaches your ears.

"Y/N..? Sorry for Dick's comments. That was super underhanded." You side eye him while he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly - what is he? an anime protagonist?

"And, uh, about the whole hospital thing, I can pay if need be!" He looks like he's ready to argue with you about it, as if you were going to reject his offer.

And at first you were, before you realized being indebted to the Waynes is infinitely better than being beaten so hard you see Bruce's parent's stupid faces by your dad.

"Okay." Is all you say, shooting him a thumbs up before looking to see if you had your bag - nope! You just gotta hope Sherri or Tia have it.

Duke looks flabbergasted for a minute before composing himself. "R-Right, yeah, sorry, I expected more.. Fight?" You watch as he visibly cringes and you can't help but deadpan.

You're from an impoverish family, one that wouldn't hesitate to hurt you. You are NOT risking anything.

"Hm. Well, you offered. I'm not going to decline such a wonderful and generous offer!" You try to hide your sneer but it seeps through your words no matter how hard you try.

With that you walk out of the room and to the receptionist at the front of the hospital. You explain how Duke is paying and leave.

The only good thing in Gotham is that the Hospitals are so out of line you could claim Bruce Wayne is paying and they'd just put him down.

Obviously no one is bold enough to do so in fear of Bruce noticing.

Walking home seemed quicker than normal, maybe you were just too eager to go home and collapse on your bed.

You quietly open the door to the apartment, it was already getting dark so you had to be careful.

But, once more, this is most definitely not your day.

Both your parents are up, you can hear your mom muttering to your dad about having a visitor. You walk into the kitchen, hungry, tired, and so done with everything you don't care if your parents hurt you.

Your mother shoots a glare to you while your father busies himself with his food - eating like a greedy pig.

"Where have you been?! We had a HIGHLY important guest here for you and you never arrived!" Her shrill voice grates on your ears and you turn to the pantry, hoping there would be something to eat.

"I was busy... School work and stuff.." You mutter, if you told your mom about the hospital visit she'd lose her head and you'd be on the streets in the blink of an eye.

That would mean your begging with Tim would be for nothing - you'd look like a fool for nothing.

"Stop muttering, child! That's not excusable! Now- What's that..?" You're mother cuts herself off once her eyes catch onto the new and expensive-looking box in your hand.

You hesitate before holding it out, she would've taken it from you anyway, best not to put up a fight.

"... Mr Grayson got me a new phone after accidentally breaking mine" You speak up, louder than before. You mom hated when you spoke under your breath, made her feel like she is the only one who can speak in the house.

She yanks it out of your hands and looks over it, your dad also seems to draw his attention to it. His eyes narrowing as he takes in the fancy thing in your mother's hands.

Your mother turns it around in her hands "Hm... You know, you don't need such a nice phone... You're only in high school. I'll take this and you can have my one!" She grins cockily.

Your dad slams his hands on the table and glares at you and your mom.

"Where is my one" he signs angrily. You gulp, you're in serious danger now..

"I.. Dick didn't get a second.. The phone was meant for me is all!" Your words falling out of your mouth like vomit.

To say your dad isn't happy would be an understatement. Your mom, noticing his demeanor, hums and says something about taking a shower as she leaves the kitchen.

Your dad stands up, fists clenched, he walks around the bench and stalks up to you. You take a step back, you can see your hands shaking in front of you as you brace for impact.

One punch across your jaw, a kick to the knee, a pull to your hair that brings you to the floor with a cry.

if it was a criminal and you were Aranea you would fight back, defend yourself. But, this is your dad, you can't bring yourself to fight back - you hate him, god you hate him.

A kick directs itself into your stomach, then your lips, then back down to your ribcage. You swear your gums are bleeding, you feel blood drip from your busted lip.

You do what you usually do when confronted with this situation.

You zone out, pretend you're in a better world, a better life.

Eventually you go unconscious, unaware of when or how. When you wake up you're on the kitchen floor and the morning light casts in your eyes like a lamp that's too bright.

You groan and sit up, blood on your tongue, your clothes, and your skin. You'll need to have a quick shower because school starts in an hour.

~

Taglist

@rissareader @delias-stuff @hogwarts9 @marsmabe @randomlyappearingartist @coralaura @nervousalpacalady @citrushalo @chericia @soriansick @v0idl1nq @scrumdidiliyumyum @kittykatcreatster @feral-childs-word @anon34570 @shycreatorreview @sunny-sp3lls @fluffypackofships @cynniee @yuyuzi-ling @coffeeaddictxd @starryperson @readermommy @niggrrooo @bunbunboysworld @yanrandom @fluffypackofchips @vanilliona @wizzerreblogs

[yutarot]

ride or die. l.jn smau

018 — for her, i am.

(a/n: u might wanna grab some popcorn for this one.)

JENO POV

“i know who leaked my secret.”

he had said it so quickly that he forgot the words had even come from his mouth.

jaemin stares at him, eyes wide in a mix of shock and weirdly, sadness.

but then jeno realises why. he had let jaemin be bullied, staying silent as all of his friends attacked him. he had done nothing.

jaemin didn’t care that jeno knew who it was, he didn’t care who had ruined jeno’s life, because jeno had ruined his. he thought that jeno thought it was him, he had assumed that’s why jeno did nothing, out of hatred, out of anger. but now, now it made no sense. jeno was meant to be his bestfriend.

jeno became angry at the thought. not at jaemin, but at himself. and he hadn’t even explained to him the whole story yet, he hadn’t even told him who it was.

jaemin spoke first after their silence.

“you better start explaining.” jaemin says, and rightfully so. jeno feels as if he should had done the explaining a while ago, he wanted to. but it all happened too quick. he never got the chance.

he doesn’t know why, but he feels like jaemin and him aren’t going to be the same after this. not after what he’s about to tell him.

jaemin grows inpatient, angry even.

“come on, jeno, im not gonna sit here and wait for the fucking grass to grow!!”

jeno says nothing still, and this only makes jaemin’s anger worsen. but he just doesn’t know what to say, how to word the sentence that will ruin their friendship.

“WHO WAS IT JENO?” jaemins grabbing his shirt at this point, and there’s nothing he can do but close his eyes and take it. “WHO WAS IT YOU HAD TO PROTECT SO MUCH TO THE POINT WHERE YOU HAD TO LET ME GET PUSHED AROUND, HUH? WHO SPILLED YOUR FUCKING SECRET, WHO DID YOU FEEL WAS SO SPECIAL TO YOU THAT YOU COULDNT SAY ANYTHING TO ANYONE?!! WHO WAS IT, JENO?! WHO W-“

jeno’s heart races. his fists clench. his arms tense.

he snaps.

“IT WAS ME!”

jaemin stills.

he lets go of jeno’s shirt.

his eyes never divert from his, his last breath never leaving. they both stand in the apartment lobby, the cold air of outside, breezing through the window, half cracked open, the distant buzz of the vending machine whirring in the corner and the deep hue of the midnight sky absorbing the light from around them.

they’re silent, they’re still.

neither of them dare to speak.

until jeno notices jaemins face.

it’s not anger, it’s not sadness. it’s pity.

“it was me.” jeno’s voice is lower now. “i leaked my own identity.” he looks at the floor, in both solemnity and shame.

“why?” jaemin asks. “why would you do that to yourself?”

“i didn’t know it would spread so fast. i posted it on an anonymous account before my race. i wasn’t expecting it to be spread so quick, let alone on national news. i thought it would be slow, i was going to tell you, i was going to tell everyone. i had decided i didn’t want to be samo anymore. but the speed of it all… i wasn’t ready yet, i hadn’t prepared yet, i hadn’t told her.”

jaemin stills at the mention of you.

“so that’s why.”

jeno nods.

“you’re an idiot.” jaemin says, throwing jeno’s words back at him.

but jeno isn’t laughing.

“for her, i am.”

that’s where he realises the gravity of it all. that both of their deception had all come down to the route of one thing, of one person.

you.

jeno continues. “do you know what she told me when we first got into that fake relationship?”

jaemin shakes his head.

“she told me that she didn’t understand why i liked living as samo more than jeno. and usually, i did. i loved living as samo, it was the only time that i was able to really be myself. but when she came along, i realised something. i realised that i didn’t want to be samo anymore, i wanted to be the person that she knew. technically, she knew samo, yes. but it was me, as jeno, that she truly knew. and when she told me that i should just live as jeno, avoid all the public attention and just go outside without a mask, i realised that she was right, that that’s who i wanted to be. i wanted to be me, because of her. so when she told chenle who i was, i should have been mad, i should have been pissed. but, truly? i was relieved. she had done the first step of my journey herself, i could break off the deal. i could explain that i didn’t care about it anymore. i could explain that i wanted to date her for real. but i didn’t do any of that. i was still angry, i was angry at the reason why she had told chenle. he ruined it all. i couldn’t explain it to her, what i really wanted. because she liked him. and it only confirmed my suspicions when i found that stupid fuckers hoodi-“

jeno realised he had be talking for too long when jaemin began to smile.

“oh man i’ve been waiting for you to say that for the longest time, that you want to be yourself.” he pulls him into a brief hug as he speaks, as if he hadn’t even heard the second half of jeno’s rant.

after a second, jaemin pulls away before stating the obvious truth of what’s staring them both in the face, “if only it wasn’t because of her.”

reality dawns on him, pushing on him like an incoming storm. “im sorry jaemin, but ive made up my mind.”

jaemin nods, expecting jeno to say more. but he doesn’t, he just walks to the elevator, clicking the floor to their dorm. jeno hopes that jaemin forgets all about you, that he puts his feelings for you aside. but he knows jaemin too well, he knows no matter how much he tries, jaemin will never forget you.

“you getting in?” jeno says, a smile plastered on his face.

jaemin grins back before running to the elevator to join him.

jeno was going back home.

well, he will be once he fixes things with you.

jaemin lets out a sigh, seeming deep in thought. “you sacrificed everything for her.”

jeno looks at him, an understanding of what he means by this.

“jaemin-“

“i’ll take the fall for it.” he says, a smile on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes. “you don’t have to tell them it was you yet, if you’re not ready.”

jeno panics, “i can’t let you do that. not anymore.”

“please let me.” he fidgets, watching the numbers on the elevator screen climb up, and up, and up. “it’s the most i can do.”

jeno doesn’t know what to say, just like before. so he does the easiest thing. even though he knows he shouldn’t, he does what he knows he’s going to regret.

the elevator dings to a halt.

he lets him.

a sacrifice for a sacrifice.

previous : mlist : next

notes; it’s been so hard tryna keep this secret guys u have NO idea

taglist — open! @jenohyun @jirsungs @do-you-remember-summer-127 @ddolbyong @stqrgr7 @thatsatricky1 @sunghoonsgfreal @nattan127 @ssweetreveries @flamingi @chenlesfavorite @peterm4rker @snoopyjimin @akunoeyebrows @junviadinho @slayhaechan @f6llsun @multifandomania @cookiehaos @catecita @mrsjohnnysuh @luv4jeno @hyuckies18 @dreamiestay @tangerinelovelees @jjaegyeom @https-yeonjun @nanaxwi @yukisroom97 @nosungluv @mrkleelvr @neocrashed @jaedgemental @apolloxxivmin @kyubing @catdonut657 @dudekiss3r @juyeonshour @hamjwis @antifrggile @mmjhh1998 @thegracerammy @jenocity23 @honeynanamin @bluedbliss @lampcults @yyangj3lly

[spooksandstories]

The salvage crew didnt know what the hell to make of it. They came back rambling about bones and bodies, saying it didn't make any sense.

3 days of questioning were needed to get a full picture of what they'd found, amid panic and delirium.

A derelict. Floating deep on the galaxy's edge. God knows what they were doing that far out, but the salvage team noticed the derelict by chance. Almost crashed into it.

Inside, it was dead. Just that. No noise, no movement, even the colour was sapped from the environment. All grey and black, and shadow.

But it wasn't empty. There were bodies, parts of bodies at least. Fused into the walls, the doors, posted up like totem poles all over the interior. Skulls malformned and distorted, stretched across podiums like skin over a rack. Limbs hollowed out into pipes. Or maybe they were growing from the walls.

Among them all, most perplexing of all, a statue of a woman. Positioned against the far wall, arms crossed and head facing up toward the ceiling. She was nude, and carried herself with a saintly elegance.

It was impossible to deny. She was human. Or near enough. Face, breasts, hands and stomach, all human. Except for the growth sprouting from her scalp. Almost like a crown.

By this point, the salvage crew knew they were far out of their depth. Far from any sane line of thinking.

They took photo and video evidence, and what little physical samples they dared to.

Their commanding officer wanted nothing more than to sweep this incident under the rug. Pretend it had never happened. But this was a major find, and could have significant consequences for all of humanity.

But one thing gave her pause.

While reviewing the video footage captured by the crew, the officer noticed a detail which made her blood run cold.

At the end of the footage, as the crew are packing up and preparing to leave, the camera turns toward the room of necrotic machinery and decorations.

Visible in the background, is the nude statue. Standing tall above the totems and bones.

Except she was no longer looking at the ceiling.

The statues face had turned toward the camera, toward the crew.

She was smiling. Smiling wide and proud. Like how a parent might look at their child.

All data on the derelict was destroyed. Not a word about it was to be spoken ever again.

Whatever was on that derelict, human or not, best it not recieve any more fresh meat.

H. R. Giger "Biomechanoid III"

Oil, airbrush, mixed media

[moonstruckme]

Hey Mae!!! I love your writing and have been a silent supporter for a long time but I was wondering if I could request something with one of the marauders (or all of them) having an oh moment, but not like an “oh I love them,” kinda thing but like an “oh I’ve made it” sorta thing? I don’t really know how to explain it well sorry, but like they didn’t think they’d actually be in this relationship or they didn’t think they’d get this far in life with them? I’m really sorry I’m just babbling on about something that doesn’t make sense but if you could find some way to write this or if I spark any kind of inspiration I would be so grateful!! Thank you for even considering and sorry for such a long request, love you! Can’t wait to see what you’ve got next! (But don’t overwork yourself! eat, drink, and sleep!!!)

Thank you for your lovely request angel! And thank you to @ellecdc for helping me figure out what to do with it :)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 639 words

James listens as your voice changes, drifting into the kitchen and back out again as you go to toss an old newspaper into the bin. You’re tidying as you talk, telling him about the book you’ve just finished. Not so James will read it, but so he’ll feel like he has. Simply because you like to share things with him. 

You gather envelopes from the dining table between your hands, flicking through them absentmindedly, pausing in your rambling to ask, “Do you need this notice?” 

“No, that’s alright,” he says from the couch. “Bin it.” 

Your table has become a mess. James doesn’t know when it happened. It’s the closest thing to the door when you come in, so it’s accumulated receipts, flyers, and anything else the two of you don’t want to hold onto when you get home. You sort it all into piles, voice a reassuring melody. 

Outside, the sun is going down. Syrupy golden light bathes you in a warm glow, coming in through the window like it was meant to find you. James is honestly unsure how he got so lucky. 

James Potter is no stranger to love. He was brought up to feel with his whole heart, and he knows how fortunate he is to have parents who raised him that way, and friends as good as he has, and a girlfriend so lovely. But this life.

There’s your mail, all mixed together on the dining table. And the meal you’ll likely share there later, maybe with the tall candles you were so happy to find on sale earlier in the week. You could have last night’s leftovers, or James could make you his mother’s pasta, which you love, and lean over the table to kiss sauce off the corners of your lips. Afterwards you’ll probably curl up on the couch to watch one of your shows. James loves that you have shows you watch together, loves that you wait for him to watch new episodes and always say let’s just watch one more when you’re already heavy and yawning against his side. He loves your flat, and your inside jokes, and all the things you don’t need words for. 

He wonders how often people get this lucky. That they just go and make the perfect life with someone without even realizing. 

“Hey, sunshine.” 

You look up at him through the aureate glow. You appear amused at the new endearment, not of James’ usual repertoire. You don’t realize how fitting it is. 

“Could you come here for a moment?” 

“What’s up?” you ask, setting down the stack you’re working on. You sit just where he knows you will, tucked up against his side. James wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in snug like a key fitting to its lock. 

“Nothing,” he says, turning to give you a proper hug. You let him half haul you onto his lap, your hands on his shoulders and his face in your neck. You smell like home. Like your lotion and the bathroom after you shower and lazy Sunday mornings. 

“James.” Your voice is a happy hum by his ear. “What’s this about?” 

“I love you.” He nuzzles underneath your jaw, relishing your surprised laughter. “I love this. I love us.” 

Your fingers burrow into his curls. “I love us, too,” you say, softly. 

“Do you want my mum’s pasta for dinner tonight?” 

“Ooh, yes. Always.” You pull back from him, holding his head still so you can look at him. Your thumb draws a loving semicircle by his temple. “I was thinking I could light those candles I found.” 

James beams. “I thought you might.” 

You give an odd smile back. Bemused, but also horrendously besotted. “You’re being weird.” 

James kisses you sweetly with a smile still on his lips. “Only for you, my love.”

[captain-hawks]

"mom, are you gonna go hang out with olive when grandma picks me up?"

olive.

you sigh from across the kitchen at your daughter and her nickname for the situationship that she shouldn't even know exists.

she grins, turning her attention back to the crayons clutched in her little hands and the piece of paper sitting on the table in front of her.

—

you enjoy spending time with oliver.

albeit, it's typically a horizontal, minimally-clothed affair found somewhere within the vicinity of his lavish apartment.

but things are easy with him.

(and nothing's been easy since the divorce.)

oliver's funny. he's sweet. he's straightforward with his desires and upfront with his intentions. he's mature in a way that often makes you forget he's younger than you.

he's a gentleman, he's charming, and he could probably break your heart ten ways to sunday if you let him.

(you've told him as much between pillows and sheets, when you're both tired and sated. when he's smiling at you softly and stroking the backs of his knuckles against your hair like he's on the verge of saying something horribly fond.)

he's a generous lover (it's the best sex of your life, you'd be a liar to deny it).

but this is all it is and all it ever will be with oliver aiku—you're under no preconceived notions that say otherwise. you know his reputation, after all.

which is why you had no intention of introducing him to your daughter—until you received a call from her school requesting an early pick up while you and oliver were in your car grabbing lunch. she was apparently feeling sick, so you didn’t have much leeway to avoid the situation.

"mommy, who's that?" she'd asked, peering at the man sitting in the passenger seat, equal parts giggly and mystified.

she hadn't seen you with another man since—

"you can call me oliver," he'd grinned right back at her.

"nice to meet you, olive!" she'd chirped.

olive, olive, olive.

it haunts you, just a little. what an impression he happened to make on her in the span of a thirty-minute car ride as you cut your rendezvous short and dropped him back off at his apartment.

how he answered every outlandish question she asked—she's nosy by nature.

how he asked her questions about school and her favorite shows and her favorite animals in turn.

the way he grabbed your phone when she started belting out song requests and obediently complied, even when you told him "you really don't want to listen to that."

the way he sang along with her.

now it's always olive this, olive that.

you don't have the heart to tell her that olive doesn't date.

--

it's an unsuspecting tuesday night when everything changes.

"oliver?' you call out from where you're standing in the kitchen, a glass of water clenched in your slightly trembling hands as you stare at his fridge.

as you stare, and you stare. and what you're seeing still doesn't make any sense.

"hmm?" he comes up behind you suddenly, arms wrapping around your waist.

you lift a hand to point at the fridge, where a piece of paper hangs by a magnet, adorned with a crudely drawn green oval with stick figure arms and legs. the words OLIVE are written above it, punctuated by a little pink heart.

you'd hastily told oliver that he didn't have to keep the drawing when you opened your purse to find that she had stuffed it in there last week.

"i feel like having a child's drawing on your fridge might give your hookups the wrong idea," you say, throat beginning to feel tight.

oliver's arms tense around you slightly. you can feel him looking at the side of your face, but you can't tear your eyes away from the picture.

"i told you, you didn't have to keep it," you add, biting the inside of your cheek.

he turns you toward him then, an oddly serious expression on his face. he looks almost—hurt.

"nobody else is coming here to see this but you."

the room sways, just a bit, as your knees threaten to give out beneath you.

[rafesangelita]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW | FIVE

a pogue!sweetheart!reader series by rafesangelita ©

SUMMARY: finding you when he thought all hope was lost, rafe decides that this is the last time you two will ever be separated.. til’ death do you part.

WARNINGS: lots of emotions lol, crying, angst, description of unprotected sex, fluff

LINKS: series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

“how did you find me?” you’re pulling rafe inside by his shirt, his hands finding your hips as he stared at you incredulously. he couldn’t believe you were in front of him. he didn’t answer, instead he took your face in his hands, tears brimming his eyes as he rested his forehead on yours. “please never do that again.” you felt your heart break when his voice came out shaky, your own tears already rolling down your cheeks. “i’m so sorry—” rafe shut the door, clicking the lock shut before sitting you down on the motel bed.

“i got your note,” rafe made sure to keep your hand in his as he spoke, “i know that you left because you felt like you were doing the right thing.” he laughed bitterly, flashbacks of the look on his dad’s face when he saw that you didn’t take the money ran through his mind. “but i need you to know something else..” your heart was beating out of your chest, a million words sitting on the tip of your tongue. there was so many things you wanted to say, but you didn’t know where to start.

“doing the ‘right thing’ would never result in us being away from each other. you sacrificed everything and left behind everything you’ve ever known for me, so i made my own sacrifices too.” just as you were going to question what he meant, he held up his hand, the gold ring that he once wore with the utmost pride was now gone. your eyes widened, your lips parting as you shook your head. “oh, rafe..” inspecting his fingers, you couldn’t help but run your digits over his palm, “what did you do? what did i do?”

regret pooled in your stomach. the one thing you didn’t want to happen, happened. “hey, look at me— you didn’t do a damn thing, alright? my dad didn’t take anything from me, i left it. the same way you walked away from everything, so did i.” your head shot up at his words. “you left it? the business, your family ring, everything?” rafe watched as the corner of your eyes became wet with tears, your chin wobbling slightly. “y/n,” he stroked the side of your face, “everything means absolutely nothing if i don’t have you by my side.” you swore you could’ve died right there.

rafe embraced you as you let out a sob, your hands clinging onto him as if he’d disappear from your grasp. “i’m so sorry i left!” you cried out into his chest, “i’ll never leave you again, i swear it!” your arms moved to wrap around his neck, your heart finally feeling full again. rafe shushed you, rubbing your back soothingly as you two cried in each other’s embrace. rafe knew it was now or never. everything that you two have been through— all the tears, all the scrutiny and pain, trials and tribulations, all the laughs, the sweet moments, the whispering of words in the dark, all of it was meant to lead up to this very moment.

rafe pulled away, taking both of your hands in his as he moved down to the floor— on one knee. sniffling, you watched with a confused gaze as rafe reached into his pocket. “i bought this ring the morning i first left your camper,” your eyes widened as he pulled out a small box, “you left one of your rings on the bathroom sink and i took it with me to get an accurate size on this one,” he laughed, “i thought i was crazy when i was there buying it from the jeweler, but it all makes sense now.” a small gasp left your lips when he opened the box, revealing a dainty diamond ring. “rafe..” your voice was barely above a whisper.

“marry me.”

his words cut through the air, your breath catching in your throat. “what?” a hint of a smile played on your lips as his eyes got lost in your own. “marry me,” he repeated, “you fulfilled wedding vows since the very beginning. ‘for better, for worse.’ you and me made decisions, we let go of things despite how painful it was, we did it for each other,” rafe swallowed thickly. ‘for richer, for poorer.’ you never cared about how much money i had, you welcomed me into your camper and we made the best of it,” he rose his eyebrows suggestively, making a giggle fall from your lips at the memories of you two getting tangled in your bed.

tightening your grip on his hand, your smile faded when he broke down, his shoulders shaking slightly as his head hung in complete surrender. “you didn’t give up on me when you had every reason to. ‘in sickness and in health.’ you stuck by me when i was at the height of my addiction, and i could never thank you enough for never losing faith in me. i yelled at you, i talked to you harshly— fuck, i hate myself for that. i was in the worst shape i had ever been in, and you still looked at me as if i hung the stars up for you. you loved me at my worst, and brought me back up to be my best.” now you were crying too, small hiccups emitting from your throat.

“y/n, will you please do me the honor of giving me your hand in marriage?” rafe glanced up at you, the expression on your face unreadable. “of course i will.” that was all rafe needed before he slid the beautiful ring on your finger, both of you pulling each other into a searing kiss. with his lips still connected to yours, rafe took a seat on the bed, pulling you on top of his lap effortlessly. you two stayed like this until the tears on your cheeks dried, both of you growing needy for something more than just rushed kisses and lingering touches.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered against his lips, “i never want to be away from you ever again.” rafe’s eyes were now clouded with something else other than tears— lust. “stop saying sorry. nothing else matters right now.” rafe’s fingers slipped underneath your top, your eyes fluttering shut as he licked a stripe up the column of your throat. groaning at the taste of your skin, you gasped when he cupped you through the lacey material of your bra. being apart from one another was one thing, but not being able to hold, love, or touch each other was completely different.

“i’ve been staying at your camper for this past week, you wanna know why?” you moaned softly as he took your top off, humming a small ‘why?’ before you tugged at his shirt. “because it smells like you. the sheets, your pillows, everything, it all smelled like you and i needed to feel you close somehow.” you pulled away at the revelation, your hands coming up to cup cheeks. “please let me make it up to you..” your voice was so sweet, but the indication of your words was even sweeter. “oh, you will.” rafe nodded to himself, his hand coming up to unclasp your bra.

rafe laid you down and worshipped your body as if it was your first time together all over’s again. not a single inch of your body went untouched, the man above you whispering praises again your skin. you two laughed, cried, kissed, and hugged all while he rocked inside of you, his fingers intertwined with yours as he continuously placed kisses to your knuckles. he was gentle, yet so precise with his movements, you were easily gasping his name in no time. never looking away from each other once, you held eye contact while he spilled into you, his lips molding to yours as if they were made just for you.

“i love you.” you smiled softly as his breath fanned against your cheek. pulling him flush against your chest, you wrapped your legs around his waist in order to keep him between your thighs. “i love you, too.” rafe rested his forehead in the curve of your neck, his large palms rubbing soft circles into your skin. you two stayed like this until he pecked the corner of your lips, rolling to your side before taking you in his arms. with your back to him, both of you admired your ring as if you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “rafe?” you whispered, a smile gracing your lips when he hummed.

“i can’t believe it..” rafe trailed kisses along the back of your shoulder, his hand holding up your own. “i can,” he started, “i knew this day was going to come, i just wish i did it sooner.” you turned around in his embrace, running your index finger along his jaw. “you never answered my question earlier.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. “what? how i found you?” nodding, you let your eyes trail over his features as he explained himself. “well i searched the whole island, and when people told me they hadn’t see you anywhere i figured that meant you left it altogether.”

your eyes widened at his words. “you looked for me all this time?” you already felt bad for leaving in the first place, but now you felt even worse. “of course i did. i went to the icecream parlor and asked around for you there, and then i went to the country club, but everyone just kept saying the same thing.” you closed your eyes, a defeated sigh falling from your lips. “i looked up the closest motel and this place showed up, so now i’m here.” rafe was unbelievable. “i need to get you a wedding band!” you gasped, the realization dawning on you once you stroked his empty fingers.

“i already got one. it’s at the camper.” you stared at him blankly. “rafe cameron.” he smiled when you said his full name, finding amusement in the way your voice sounded serious all of a sudden. “i mean it when i say i thought everything through already,” he kissed you, “i never really understood what people said, but now i get it.” smiling against his lips, you looked up at him through your lashes. “what do you mean? what did they say?” rafe cradled your head, those blue eyes of his dripping pure adoration for you as he spoke.

“when you know, you know.”

taglist: @percysley @oceandriveab @lacydollette @weirdowithnobeardo @mattyskies @cnnamongrl @b3bybunny @littlelamy @nemesyaaa @lovinqbella @jeonmochi99-blog @corpsebridenightamare @whorelaud @mymvlody @idontknowwhyimhere33 @ursovaine @maybankslover @ilovefiction4lmen @rafesfavouritegirl @katekells @winnie1emon @sexysadie23 @hewwokitti @avvwritesstufff @purplerose291 @avengersgirllorianna @rafegf-real @impossibleturkeydiplomatghost @dearestjune @finnickodairslut @starkeysprincess @stoned-writer @just-here-for-ff @snowtargaryen @sarahsangelicdoll @imjustagirl713 @hypnotizedstarkey

[zshiftsrealties]

MANIFESTATION, AND IT'S CORE

this isn't a FUCKING joke. all of this isn't some big lie just so people can mess with you.

it's not "too good to be true", it's not "one day I will", it's not "can I?", it's not it's not it's not. it's REAL, it's LITERAL, it's YOURS.

it's different names for the SAME FUCKING THING. IT'S ALL THE SAME. one's not harder than the other, one's not easier than the other. it's the EXACT same.

lucid dreaming is the same as shifting which is same as manifesting which is same as the void. it's all the same. THE ESSENCE OF IT IS ALL THE SAME.

and the FACT is that it's all yours. NO, you don't have the "power to do it" because YOU DON'T NEED THAT BULLSHIT. it's YOURS.

there's no "specific time", "special day", "the one moment", "the one word" that'll make you shift/everything else. there's no nothing. there's nothing that youll find that'll "make you" shift. there's no secret formula, secret recipe, "oh, maybe I'm doing this wrong", "wait, maybe if I do this", "maybe if I try that". there's just you, and everything that's already yours. SO OWN UP TO IT. SAY IT WITH YOUR DAMN CHEST THAT IT'S YOURS. say it so loud that even someone in the DEPTHS of HELL and in the HEIGHTS of HEAVEN can hear that IT'S YOURS!! say it with such a sense of entitlement that GOD HIMSELF hears you, sees you, and acknowledges you!

IT'S YOURS, IT'S YOURS, IT'S YOURS. say it until you feel sick of it. say it until your brain's fried. say it until you're out of it. say it UNTIL YOU CAN MEAN IT when you say IT'S YOURS.

one assumption, one assumption is all it takes. one sentence that you don't question. hell, question it even. doesn't matter. even so, one assumption is what it takes to be the you who has it all. the assumption that you ARE the you who has it all.

don't even believe. don't. don't even think twice. don't bother at all. don't do nothing. you don't NEED to do nothing. because you already are the you who has what you want.

what you desire was already yours before it was even put in your heart. it has been yours when it appeared. its completely yours when you work towards having it. it's yours to enjoy when you finally have it. so enjoy it throughout. enjoy it when you're persisting that you have it. enjoy it when an intrusive thought arises. enjoy it when you question it's validity. because it was yours the moment the big bang happened, and it was yours before it happened, and it was yours when nothing existed, and it's yours when the world ends. it's yours from start to end.

if it wasn't yours, it would've passed you by, and you wouldn't even have any idea. if it wasn't yours, you wouldn't be here right now. if it wasn't yours, you wouldn't be trying even if you're doubting it. if it wasn't yours, it wouldn't have found you in a hundred lifetimes.

you cannot make this shit up. it's a FACT. you don't find anything. whatever is yours, finds you. you cannot escape what's yours. that is your blessing. take it. own it. live it.

you're NEVER chasing. your desires chase you. they WANT to be yours.you CAN live without them. you definitely can. they can't. but since they're yours, they move with you, and so in your frame, it looks like you're chasing after them. that you have to have them. SO WIDEN YOUR FRAME. WIDEN THAT FUCKING PICTURE. ZOOM THE FUCK OUT. SEE, that they continue chasing after you, trying to catch up. so own them. stop running. give yourself a break. take a breather. what are you chasing after anyway? when everything is yours since the beginning of the world, and even before that. you're making your life awfully like Achilles's. stop going so fast that you pass your desires and then end up behind them. stop running in circles. stop, and relax. you've reached the end line. you ARE the end line. let your desires come to YOU. that's what you deserve, and that is EXACTLY what you have.

you will have exactly what you intend. intention matters, and actions follow. so intend big, assume the "impossible", and watch it appear before you. the mind is a powerful thing. it always works in your favor, but only if you keep it under your control. do not let it even DARE to think it can control you. don't YOU ever think it can control you. sit down with it. tell it your desires. tell it that you already HAVE your desires. and most importantly, tell it that it has to work for you NO MATTER WHAT. because that is what it's supposed to do. that's it's purpose.

no, you're not GOD. you're YOU. that's your power. GOD has too much to take care of. the wind; it's direction, the water; its flow, the rain; where it falls, the leaves; when they wither, your next breath that you'll take, every single person on this once fully green Earth. he's constantly taking care of everyone else. do you have the time to take care of every single individual alive and breathing right now? honestly, no. you're not gonna sit here saying "oh, yeah. let me pay the debts of someone on the other end of the world who probably doesn't even know me". I know I won't. is that selfish? I don't care. I deserve everything that I want as much as anyone else in this whole wide world. so no. NO NO NO. you're nothing, but YOU. you don't "make it happen", you don't have to. you assume, it happens. you intend, its here. that's YOU. you don't have to sit down and plan HOW what you want will happen, you sit down and assume it'll happen, and it will.

anyways, yeah. you get the point. you are you, do not try to be anything or anyone else. be you, do you, for you. and everything will be yours. it already is. you are the CORE, the CENTER, the start and the end.

[revelboo]

Oh my lanta i swear this blog is single handedly re-sparking my transformers interest. I swear I've read every non-con thing on your master list, I did read the cons for the headcannons though, and I'm getting ready to read all the con stuff now. Pray for me cause that one will take a while 🙏

😆 I’m a bit heavy on Decepticons. I’ve had a soft spot for them since reading Megatron: Origins

Everything is Alright Pt 105

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Watching the Seeker coaxing you to lay your head against him, it’s hard for Soundwave to run his servos against your spine and mass displace when you look up at him with those tired, unhappy eyes. When he wants to comfort you. Shivering at the energy drain, he brushes the tip of a servo against your cheek. Hates leaving you when you’re upset, but hopefully Starscream actually talks to you. Makes this right. Because he needs to talk to Megatron. Do everything in his power to make you and your offspring safe. “Fix this,” he growls at Starscream, looming over him as the Seeker curls his lip at him.

• Wanting nothing more than to ask Soundwave to stay, because you’re off kilter and not at all sure where you stand with either of them suddenly, you just curl your hands into fists. Wondering if it’s the bond making you want to reach after him or relax into Starscream. That humming sense of contentment tricking you. How much of what you feel is really you and how much is that bond? You’re honestly afraid to find out. Not resisting when Starscream tips your chin up and Soundwave closes the door behind him. “Let me in,” he whispers, lips brushing yours and it’s not until he shifts the plating covering his spark that you understand. Wants to make sure. Still doesn’t believe you and Soundwave.

• “He didn’t lie to you.” The hurt in your voice claws at him as you struggle against him, trying to lean away. “Do you think I’m lying, too?” Of course not. But he needs to know for himself. Know that Soundwave didn’t fool you somehow. That you are sparked. Catching your wrist, he’s tempted to force you into contact with his spark, but doesn’t. Waits. And your eyes are angry when reach for him, making that connection on your own. And your hurt and fear and anger spill into him, slicing him open like little blades.

• Dragged into him, you don’t resist as he wraps himself around you, tangling inside you until it’s hard to remember you’re separate from him. His thoughts, uncertainties, and fears mixing with your own. Feel when he finds that otherness that’s not you, but still tangled in you. Part of you and him. A spark. Because unlike with Soundwave, you can’t keep Star at bay. Can’t hide anything. And neither can he. Snatching your hand back, you’re aware of him quivering under you and venting raggedly. Servos framing your face as he presses his mouth against your forehead. “Talk to me. Please,” you whisper.

• Cheek brushing yours, his thoughts are all over the place. Trying to figure out what’s happening. How it happened. Because you’d created a spark when there haven’t been any new sparks since the last hotspot was depleted. But then, no one spark bonds anymore, either. Was this possible all along and the knowledge just lost? “We’re going to need a protoform,” he murmurs, lips against your temple. A little Seeker like him. Primus, he’s a sire. And it’s still absolutely terrifying. And he’s not even sure how to separate the spark from you to transfer it to a frame.

Previous

[sidestepsam]

hey this is so random but idk if yk the nakay girl on tiktok but she’s met the team a good amount of times and she just posting a video kinda saying she doesn’t really believe in pazzi.

what’s your opinion on that? she’s quite young so idk hahaha

This is a good opportunity to share my thoughts on this.

It is true that they do a lot of things that female best friends do with each other. They’ve also always called each other best friend, etc. so I can understand why a lot of people, especially if they’re not deeply into the lore, may truly think they’re just BFFs. That being said, there’s a very big difference between being unsure/not caring and being a denier. I don’t have an issue with people not being convinced they’re together, if anything I respect it because they’re just waiting for hard evidence. I do, however, have issues with deniers for multiple reasons:

1. It usually comes from a place of heteronormativity and or homophobia.

There’s a lot of people that see being straight as a must have in the mold of the perfect role model and I believe that is applied to Paige especially. Straight men also think this way but from a different perspective. Rather than being worried about them being role models, they’re in denial that P and A aren’t for them. Azzi also gets it because she’s conventionally feminine and a lot of ignorant people think that to be gay as a woman you have to be masculine.

2. It comes from a place of wanting to come of as morally above others.

This is what I think that chick is doing. I’ve never liked her, I think she has a weird parasocial situation going on to the point that she’s developed a weird sense of ownership. This girl knows them just as much as the rest of us do. She’s only met them in public, organized events that of course would not have any outwardly Pazzi situation happening. Literally two videos after that one she’s in literal tears over the game. Of course we all felt it, but to actually cry and film it? Be fr.

Lastly, and sorry if this is rude, but A LOT of these people are literal children. Even some of you on here I can tell are kids/teenagers. That age group knows nothing about reading romantic social cues especially when there’s gay undertones involved. They’ve also never been in relationships. It’s the same reason why they make entire love edits out of P & A looking at each other for 2 seconds and caption it as the most romantic thing they’ve ever seen.

All I’m going to say is that if P or A did exactly what they do with each other with a dude, absolutely no one would question that that dude was their bf. So in conclusion, we will see in 3 months (hopefully) who gets the last laugh 😭💀

[andhumanslovedstories]

I’ve been getting miffed lately at people comforting me about things I’m not upset about. My psych NP being like, “I know that you’re scared and hesitant about changing up your meds, but I think that’s what we need to do,” and I’m like, “I’m not scared, I’m the one who made this appointment specifically so we could change this med.” After I lost that one pill, a coworker was repeatedly like, “don’t worry, you won’t get in trouble over this,” and I’m like “yeah I didn’t think I was gonna.” A nurse at work was like, “don’t beat yourself up over that patient that almost had a complication,” and I’m like, “Nothing bad happened? So I’m not?” Like I’m not taking any of these situations lightly, I’m hashtag Learning and Growing, but I don’t hate myself for being a part of them.

I was talking to Cyrus about this, and they asked if there was a time when I would have appreciated hearing these things, and yeah, totally, there was a time when I wanted to be constantly assured, and there are times now where I want to be told that I haven’t done anything wrong or that the ways I fucked up don’t matter. Comfort nice. Manners nice. People making sure I’m not upset is a nice thought. All true, but still irksome when I don’t need it I guess I didn’t realize how much more stable my sense of self was I started to get pissed at people seemed to view it as fragile.

[gotta-winwin]

(🎞️) ... hit the road docu.<> and for the ghosts that haunt me

masterlist | cyana's masterlist

word count: 3.6k tw: anxiety, mentions of bullying, panic attacks, blood, use of slut shaming italics are interviews cut between scenes + english a/n: this is a retelling of a story that is extremely close to my heart. school bullying is NOT a joke, and remember that you're beautiful, strong and that no matter what anyone else says - you define who and what you are. if any of the above trigger warnings trigger you - scroll away, stay safe, and come back for the next one 💓

“Cyana!”

Cyana turned to greet her, a mysterious, faceless young girl whose voice sounded all too familiar. 

“Chloe, hey.” She smiled, a wave of fond memories washing over her as she reminisced about what used to be. “I’ve missed you.”

“We saw each other yesterday, silly.” Chloe laughed, the sound sending sudden chills down Cyana’s spine. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Cyana asked, noticing the sinister glare behind Chloe’s friendly smile. “Chloe?”

“You really don’t know, huh?” Chloe chortled, eyes dancing with mirth, relishing in the glory Cyana’s confusion and fear gave her. “God, you really are dense. Just like your mother. Bet you won’t go to university, just like her.” 

“Stop that.” Cyana protested, and a sudden sense of deja vu washed over her. This had happened before. “What’s going on, Chloe? Aren’t we friends?” 

“Psh.” Chloe hid a smirk behind her hand. “You’re way too naive to be sixteen, Cyana.” 

Sixteen? She frowned. She was way past sixteen now. Turning twenty one just a couple months ago had hit her like a truck. She didn’t feel her age. In her head she was still sixteen, huddled behind bathroom stalls and hanging her head low in hallways. 

“Cyana?” A familiar voice spoke out of Chloe’s face. “Cyana?”

She blinked. 

“Chan?” 

The familiar face of her self-proclaimed twin and tour roommate hovered over her, blurred and hazy as she blinked up at him. Gentle fingers placed her glasses on the bridge of her nose, and a worried Chan came into clear view. 

“Are you okay, Nana? You were crying out for something.”

She sat up, nearly bumping into him as she looked around, disoriented. “I- just a dream.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Chan echoed the words his hyungs used to say years ago. “I used to get nightmares too. Jeonghan always said talking about it would make it easier.” 

She shook her head. 

“Cyana, she-” Dino paused, thinking. “She doesn’t like talking about herself very much. Sometimes I wonder if I really know her at all, and then I shake myself out of it because- she’s my twin. Of course I know her well. There are just some things she’s not ready to share yet.” 

Cyana could feel her hands shaking as she packed for LA. Although she had been mentally counting down the days of tour leading up to it, she hadn’t realized it’d be so soon. 

“Nana-yah?” Joshua knocked against the wall of her hotel room, poking his head in. “Are you all ready? We’re leaving soon.”

She hummed, keeping her head low, scared he’d pinpoint her red eyes and accuse her of crying. “Almost done.” 

Nothing ever got past Joshua.

“Are you alright?”

Cyana really wished people would stop asking her that.

“I’m fine.” 

“Cyana, she-” Joshua let out a breathy laugh. “Her tolerance for things is too high for her own good.” 

Lingering by her door, Joshua’s eyebrows were pulled tight as he watched Cyana continue packing, her hands quivering under the dim lights of the room. A storm cloud was starting to stir within him, something deeply unsettling and worrying hovering just above the horizon - Joshua could sense it. 

“I was never good at weaseling the truth out from others. Or forcing them to tell me. That was Cheol’s job. But he wasn’t there.” Joshua gave the camera a weary shrug. “It was what it was.” 

Wonwoo was the one who found Cyana on the cold tiles of the airport bathroom, ten minutes before their flight to LA. 

Pushing the door open with the brunt of his shoulder, Wonwoo crashed into the single occupant stall, disheveled and frantic as he stared at the girl sprawled across the tiles. 

“Cyana?” He gasped out, catching his breath as he bent down, moving her hair away from her face. “Everyone’s looking for you. What-” Reality hit him like a rock as he realized the severity of the situation. There were dozens, if not hundreds of fans outside, and Cyana was currently lying on the floor, her eyes bloodshot and unfocused. “Where does it hurt?” 

Her blurry eyes looked up to meet him as she took in his features. “Wonu?” 

“Yeah.” His hands hovered shakily over her frame as his mind short-circuited, scared to move her but equally scared to let her stay on the floor. “The floor is unsanitary, Nana.” He mumbled, trying to calm himself as he checked for injuries. “Where does it hurt?”

Her hand moved to her chest. 

“Your-” He paused, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. 

“I can’t breathe.” 

Ah. Panic attack. Why, Wonwoo had no clue, but at least he was familiar with these.

“Sit up. That’s good.” He braved a smile as he helped Cyana situate herself so she was leaning against the wall. Sitting down in front of her, Wonwoo spread his long legs in an uncomfortable position, but favourable for holding her as close as she needed. “Breathe. Slowly.”

He felt her whole body shake as she inhaled. 

“Breathe again.” He whispered, painfully aware of the time ticking away - a plane waiting to be caught. “Tell me what’s wrong.” 

He felt her shake her head, her hair brushing against his chin as she did.

“Please.” 

“I don’t want to go to LA.” 

Wonwoo had suspected so. “Why?” 

Cyana didn’t know what compelled her to tell him everything - but she did, crying on the bathroom floor in some grimy airport, covered in his arms. Wonwoo stayed silent as she spoke, his strong arms holding her together like glue as tears fell from his own eyes, mirroring the ones in hers. 

“Yeah, I knew. I knew everything.” Wonwoo told the camera, revealing the truth after nearly six months. “But once she had collected herself back together again, she told me to keep everything to myself. So that’s what I did.” 

“Cyana, you need to get out of bed.” 

Dino watched from his spot on his own bed, as Joshua gently scolded his roommate. He was confused why an usually active and energetic Cyana had been lounging in bed all day, practically every day since they had landed in LA. 

“Shua hyung’s right, Nana.” Dino quietly voiced his opinion, frowning when Cyana grumbled unhappily. “What’s been going on with you? So grumpy.”

“We’re here for our concert, right? So I don’t have to go outside.” Cyana argued, pulling the blankets tighter around herself. “Please don’t make me go out.”

“We’re here for a week, Nana.” Joshua sighed, exasperated. “You can’t stay here all week.”

Cyana’s lower lip jutted out. “Watch me.” 

Dino watched the whole exchange like a tennis match, his head turning back and forth as he watched them speak, confused by the sudden switch in language. “Nana.” He tried again, thinking maybe she’d be more receptive if it was coming from him. “Please? You said you’d take me sightseeing.” 

Cyana hesitated. She had agreed to Dino’s ask for her to be his tour guide, but that was before - 

“Okay, fine.” She relented, unable to take back her promise. “But only today. And we’re avoiding the popular spots.” 

Dino only got up excitedly, hurriedly getting ready and grabbing his bag. Joshua, on the other hand, frowned at her words. Avoid the popular spots? But why? Even as idols, they could often roam around unfazed, especially in the states, where Seventeen was yet to be a household name. 

“I was already worried then.” Joshua told the interviewer solemnly. “But we had enough bad vibes going around and- I guess I was praying it was all in my head, and that she was actually perfectly fine.” 

“You run away from your past until it all eventually coils up and attacks you all at once.” Cyana let out a defeated laugh. “LA was full of demons- demons I had fled to Korea to avoid. And now- well, tour had brought me right back where I started.” 

Cyana stared out into the vast ocean of fanlights trying to catch her breath. Joshua had told her - moments before running onstage - to just breathe. To ignore everything else around her and to just concentrate on the performance, on them. It was easier said than done because now, looking out into the crowd, all Cyana could think about was the probability of one of those fanlights being someone she knew. 

A small, miniscule possibility - but it terrified her nonetheless. The same kids that had threatened to destroy her could very well be staring up at her from the sea of fans and she felt too vulnerable. 

“Breathe.” 

Wonwoo appeared next to her, waving to the fans in their section but solely concentrated on her. He could hear her harsh breathing through the screams. “Breathe, Nana.” He reminded her gently.

It felt comforting knowing at least one person knew everything she was going through. 

Taking her hand and placing it on his chest, Wonwoo’s eyes fixed on hers, his expression serious but worried. “Breathe - like me. In and out.” 

Cyana did her best to follow the rhythm. “I’m trying.” She gasped out. 

“Good.” Wonwoo smiled, and Cyana basked in the light of it. “You’re okay.” 

“Mhm.” She nodded. She could make it through the concert - concentrated solely on the two of them, the little bubble that Wonwoo’s presence created around her.

Cyana could barely see her own hands as she stumbled offstage, making her way down the stairs the moment the stage screen had closed behind them. Her heartbeat was taking over her senses, drowning out the farewell cheers of the crowd. 

Reaching a hand up to touch her face, she let out a harsh sigh of both relief and disbelief. She was still alive. 

“Nana?” DK’s voice cut through the incessant hum in her ears. “Are you okay?” 

A hand grabbed her shoulder and she flinched away violently. “Don’t touch me.” She yelped out, terrified as she spun around. 

“Okay, I’m sorry!” DK yelped back, equally terrified by her sudden reaction. “You just don’t look so well and I thought- you might need a hand.” 

Her cheeks flushed. “I’m fine.” Cyana couldn’t believe she had just snapped at DK, who looked at her with hurt in his eyes as she stumbled away towards their changing rooms. 

“She looked almost drunk.” DK confided to the interviewer. “Stumbling around backstage, her hands digging into her neck and ripping out her in-ears. She looked sick. It was terrifying.” 

“I’ll go after her.” Joshua called out towards the rest of the group, who were all frozen, unsure of what to do. 

“Wait.” Wonwoo grabbed his arm, stopping him. “She’s not in her right mind right now. Something must have happened during the farewell ment. I’ll talk to her.” 

“Are you sure?” Joshua eyed the younger boy warily. Since when had Wonwoo and Cyana gotten this close? 

Wonwoo nodded, and Joshua could sense he knew something the others did not. 

Running after her, Wonwoo skidded to a stop as he spotted Cyana sitting, half lying down on one of the makeup chairs. 

“Cyana.” He approached her, raising his hands in a sign of surrender. He didn’t know what mindset she was in at the moment. “Nana-yah.” He reached out a hand to steady her, keeping her upright as she threatened to spill on the floor. “Look at me.” 

“I’m sorry.” She panted out, her eyes unfocused. “I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” The English felt strange against his tongue, but it got some sort of recognition from the girl as she raised her head to meet his eyes. 

“It’s all my fault.” 

“What is? Cyana, what?” 

“Don’t hurt me.” 

Wonwoo froze. “I’d never hurt you, Cyana.” 

“Chloe.” 

“Is that her name? The girl who hurt you back in school? The reason you left?” The questions left him in a flurry as he kept her upright, her entire body weight against his. He could tell she was on the verge of passing out. “Nana. I know you’re struggling, but you need to get it together. Please. Just until we’re back in the car.” 

Her eyes were glassy and her stare seemed to go straight through him. 

“Please.” He pushed up his glasses to wipe his tears away. Her condition scared him. 

“I don’t know how Wonwoo managed to get me back in the car.” Cyana spoke quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t remember much about that night - after the concert. But the others told me I was a mess. A zombie. Living in my skin but not quite there.” 

Cyana watched from her place on the bed as Dino paced back and forth across their shared hotel room. Wonwoo had deposited her there, promising to be back once he had found Joshua, instructing a worried Dino to look after her in his absence. 

It infuriated Cyana that they were all treating her like glass, even though she knew the emotion was unfair. They were doing their best - and she could feel herself shutting down, her safety mechanisms whirring back into place.

Dino’s footsteps seemed to thud inside her head each time he moved. Her heart was racing as she recalled the familiar face she had seen in the crowd during their farewell ment. How she yelled out her name, and that all too familiar threat. I’ll destroy you, Cyana. She had. She will. 

“Could you stop moving?” She suddenly snapped, startling Dino out from his stupor. 

He looked up from his phone and frowned. “What?” Cyana had never used such a tone with him before. 

“Just- you’re being so fucking loud and it’s actually exploding my head and it’s just- too much!” She yelled out, her hands shaking as she balled them up into fists. “Just-” She forced herself to quiet down, although her body still shook with pent up rage. “Sleep somewhere else tonight.” 

“What?” Dino’s irises shook with pooling tears. 

Cyana looked away. 

“I want to be alone tonight.” Her voice grew weaker. “Please.” 

“Oh.” 

She couldn’t bear to look at the hurt that must be across his face right now.

“Okay.”

The door clicked shut behind him. 

Cyana sunk deeper into the bed, pulling the blankets over her as she squeezed her eyes shut, silent tears pooling from the corners. 

She had never felt so horrible. 

“You need to tell me what’s happening.” Joshua ambushed her the next morning, setting a breakfast bun and a cup of milk on her bedside drawer.

“Josh. It’s like seven in the morning.” She mumbled, tugging the sheets closer to her as she rolled away. 

She was tugged back by a stronger but gentle hand. “I don’t care if it’s seven in the morning.You need to tell me what’s going on.” 

Cyana knew he was right. 

“I don’t even know where to begin.” Her shoulders slouched as she sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “There’s too much.” 

“Start at the beginning.” Joshua sat down on the bed and turned to face her. 

“I don’t know what I was expecting, really.” Joshua told the interviewer. “Something about school, or acting, I was sure. But not what really happened. No sane person would’ve expected that. Especially for it to happen to Cyana.” 

Joshua listened as Cyana spoke, her voice strangely calm as she led him through it all - starting brand new in highschool, making friends, feeling included. His expression grew darker and darker as the story progressed, eyebrows furrowing as he imagined little Cyana in the scenarios she was speaking of right now. 

Cyana told him everything. How her close friends- her ride or dies had betrayed her, turning against her all because of rumors a girl had spread to her classmates. How they had bullied her out of school- out of LA entirely. 

“Chloe.” Joshua finally said after she had finished, gently wiping away a lonely tear that had fallen on her cheek. “I heard Wonwoo muttering about that name.” 

Cyana nodded. “She was one of my best friends. You know those people who take your phone and unlock it- and you don’t even bat an eye? Or how you subconsciously hand over your bubble tea for them to try. The first person you call when something good or bad happens to you. She was that for me.”

“And she turned everyone against you?” 

She hummed. It was a strange feeling - to re-explore the past. Cyana had found she never had any trouble when talking about it, because it’d always sound like a story she had made up. She’d forget it had actually happened to her. That is, until the stories become reality once again. “She said she’d destroy me. And she did. I never found out why, why she woke up one day and decided I was no longer a person who could feel anything she threw at me.”

“And being back in LA, like, triggered something?” 

“I guess. I was- it’s silly.” 

Joshua shook his head. “Nothing’s ever silly when it comes to stuff like this.” 

“Well, I- I was scared my classmates would find me at our concert and try to- hurt me. Or hurt one of you.” Cyana looked down at her lap, her cheeks burning. “It’s stupid.” 

“No.” His voice was firm enough to make her look up at him again. “It’s not. Every fear, however irrational you might think it is, stems from something.” 

Cyana nodded. “When did you get so wise, Shua?” 

Joshua’s lips twitched. “I’ve always been wise.” His expression sterned as he remembered his initial question. “You saw someone, didn’t you? At the farewell ment.” 

She let out a cough, choking on her spit. “How did you know?” 

Joshua let out a dry chuckle. “I think everyone could tell something went wrong during the ment.” 

“I saw her. Chloe. Standing front row, waving a Vernon banner.” 

“What did she do?” 

“She yelled my name, so I turned around and-” Cyana hesitated, as if the words refused to leave her mouth. “She said she’d destroy me. Just like she did in high school.” 

Joshua let out a shaky sigh. “You need to tell Coups. Or management.” 

Cyana’s hand shot out to grab Joshua’s leg. “No!” She protested. “I’m sure it’s just in my head or something. We’re leaving LA soon anyways, it’ll-” She tried pasting a smile on her face, as if to reassure both herself and Joshua it’d be okay. “I’ll be fine.” 

Joshua hesitated before agreeing. “Alright. But if anything else happens-”

“You’ll be the first to know.” Cyana finished for him. “I promise.” 

Joshua stood up, gesturing to the breakfast still sitting on her bedside table. “Eat. You’ve been rotting in that bed for two days. And take a shower after. Nasty.” 

She let out a laugh and Joshua brightened visibly at the sound. 

“She’s better now.” He told Mingyu, who was waiting anxiously by her door as he stepped out, closing it behind him. “Opened up. Laughing even.” 

“Thank god.” Mingyu’s shoulders relaxed. 

“You should go shower too.” Joshua made a face as he walked away. “You’ve been rotting by her door ever since she went in. You too, Dino.” He added, spotting the boy who was sitting on the floor in the hallway, eyes unfocused. “Get some sleep, she’s fine.” 

Cyana could hear all this through the walls, as she slid back into bed, her breakfast lying cold beside her. Her stomach churned at the thought of eating, and her heart weighed heavy knowing she had slighted Joshua. 

Sure, she had told him the truth about what was going on- what had happened. But she wasn’t better. She knew they’d worry themselves sick and be rendered useless the rest of tour if she didn’t get her act together - so that’s what she did. She acted. Thank god for her acting background, or she would’ve collapsed into Joshua’s arms sobbing. She nearly did, but she caught herself.

After all, Cyana was glue. Flexible, strong, hard to get rid of. Whatever broke her down, she’d get back together, she was sure of it. 

“Cyana.” 

She found herself back in her school’s gymnasium, surrounded by fellow classmates all dressed up. She knew this night. Spring Fling night - where dating was overlooked for one night in an all Catholic school. 

“Cyana.” 

She turned, and realized who was behind her. 

“Matthew.” She gasped out. He hadn’t aged at all, his hair was still infuriating lopsided, curls never landing straight, his eyes crinkled up in a large smile. “What-”

“I heard you’re so obsessed with me you wrote me over 200 songs.” His loud mouth split into a nightmarish grin. “Slut. You spread your legs open for anyone, huh.”

“What?” Cyana gaped at him. But- she had heard all this before. 

“Cyana! Look over here!” 

She turned, and blinked as a bright camera flash blinded her. 

“I’m framing this so I can jack off to it later.” The boy who held the camera was faceless. “You let Matthew, so why not me?”

“I don’t-” 

“Cyana!”

“Wonwoo?”

She turned around once again, greeted by Wonwoo, dressed in a pale blue suit, his hair pale white. He smiled at her with his hand outstretched. 

“Dance with me?”

She let out a breath of relief, reaching her hand out to take it. All of a sudden, something came flying towards them, causing Wonwoo to slump to the floor, blood dripping from his side, his glasses askew on his face.

“Wonwoo!” 

“You really thought we’d let you get your happy ending?” Someone laughed from the shadows of the party, the disco lights reflected against shadowed figures. “After I said I’d destroy you?”

She glanced back down at Wonwoo, who was on the floor, his eyes wide and frozen. She stifled a scream. 

“Cyana!”

“Cyana! Wake up!” 

a/n: oof. this one's a heavy one. i really wanted to bring this story into cyana's character - and if you can relate to any part of it - hope her journey to healing can help you in yours. fighting !! and remember: kindness is supposed to be a guarantee, not a "if."

[crimsonmochi]

Prompt. Full-heartedly believe Choso is the goodest most pathetic boy for his partner ever. And not just when it comes to sex, just everything. He just loves you so much :( I can't prove it, but I can write about it. Smut included.

Choso, who just doesn't know what he would do if you weren't there. I mean, this boy gets lost so easily because of how much he wanders, he has to call you because he gets upset and has zero sense of direction.

"I don't know how to get home."

"Why did you leave?"

"I saw a kitty and I wanted to pet it."

Choso, who pouts, and he pouts a lot. He pouts when he doesn't understand something you're explaining, he pouts when he wants something, and he pouts when he doesn't get what he wants. Will act like you killed his whole family if you don't give him kisses right now.

Choso, who needs to be touching you at all times in some way, or he panics and thinks you don't love him anymore. The first time you gently push his hand away from your waist in public due to being overstimulated at the mall, he nearly has a breakdown going over every single thing he's said and done in the past week.

He told Yuji about it the next day, explaining that he will literally end his life if you leave him and telling him he had to help.

"Just make some sort of big gesture. You should be fine."

Choso decorated your bed with some flower petals the next day, found out he was allergic to pollen, and was sneezing throughout his apology. Apology you didn't know was for, but you forgave him regardless, nursing him back to health in your arms until he didn't have the sniffles from the pollen anymore.

Choso who was a virgin when you met him and remained one for a good part of your relationship, entirely confused when his dick would get hard when you held his hand? Love, why does it do that? It hurts. He couldn't look you in the eye for a bit after you had explained it, embarrassed and flustered.

Choso had to be shown everything bit by bit. He complained when you showed him porn because it's not you, so why would I watch it. Makes no sense.

Choso who, after that session, tried to masturbate, but it wasn't working. He was clumsy with his movements, too needy and eager, and didn't even know what he was supposed to be chasing. Until he thought about you smiling at a joke he made earlier, and before he knew it, he came all over your bedsheets.

Choso tried to hide what happened from you but couldn't lie when you asked why he was hauling your bedsheets into the washing machine on a weekday, meekly trying to put together the situation with words. After explaining, he asked if he needed to go see a doctor.

"That's normal, babe."

"Are you sure? Felt like I got possessed for a moment, maybe we have a ghost."

He couldn't understand why you laughed at that but was thankful for the reassurance that he wasn't dying.

Choso, who begged you to take his virginity a month later, whining about the wet dreams he had been having about you, confused about what it meant, but it had to mean something.

Choso spent an hour just feeling and looking at your body, unsure where to place his hands, where you liked being touched, where you didn't. He spent so much time asking questions, wanting to please and be good for you, that he only remembered how desperate he was when you finally took control, something blooming in his stomach as you gave him orders.

Choso, who discovered he cums fast and from almost nothing. He shuddered when you took his length in your hand, his back arching off the mattress as a soft whimper escaped his lips, shooting ropes of cum onto his stomach.

Choso, who discovered that going down on you was his favourite thing to do of all time. For a week straight, that's all he wanted to do; he wouldn't understand why you couldn't just stay under him all the time as he feasted. Has orgasms from it, too, completely untouched, just whining and moaning between your legs like a kicked puppy.

Choso, who pouts at you when you don't let him give you head.

Choso, who loves to be called a good boy, lives for it. In and out of the bedroom, it's like you saying "I love you" to him. Honestly has a bad day if you don't say it.

He is your good boy, and you will call him that.

Choso, who refuses to brat out because how can he be your good boy if he acts up. Days are filled with "yes ma'am," "no ma'am," and "right away." If anyone were to witness, they'd think you're running a tight ship military, but it's just your handsome man on his best behaviour as always.

Choso, who never argues. Not because of anything in particular; he's just not wired that way. He listens too well, is in tune with your emotions and his, and adapts fast. He just wants to make your life easier, and if you want the trash taken out at 8:31 instead of 8:30, then he'll be damned if he doesn't make that happen.

Choso, whose personal therapy is laying his head in your lap while you braid a strand or two. He loves the gentle tug on his scalp, loves your fingers in his hair, and loves to look up at you and see how focused you are.

Choso, who needs to feel helpful and wants you to depend on him the same way he depends on you, sometimes goes out of his way to make himself feel indispensable because he likes how it makes him feel. Once stole your schedule only to memorize it and recite it by heart when you mysteriously couldn't find it, the biggest smile on his face when you thanked him.

Choso, who could make out with you for hours on end just to feel your fingers playing with his baby hairs once. Nearly gets off on it.

Choso, who likes to shower with you only for the soap and shampoo part. He likes to be taken care of, your hands on his body as you lather him up properly, his eyes closed and his mind sleepy. Double points if you're taking a bath instead.

Choso, who lays in bed every night with you and tells you he loves you, why, for what traits, for what you give him and what you make of him.

Choso, who could write a whole essay about you, would never be done, could never run out of things to say.

Choso, who just loves you so much, needs you forever, no matter what.

[lockpickingliar]

We ran out of tags so I guess we gotta do this in the body of the post. Sorry.

Not sure who's at the helm right now muse-wise, but it's nice to see the acknowledgment. It's probably Cookie or Gemini or another who's experienced Chapter 4. Kichi? Moonpie? Joker? Maybe it's several of us in a lump. We do that sometimes.

But anyway. It's like...

Yeah, Gokuhara and Iruma were important to us.

Then imagine our turmoil when we figured out that Iruma was planning to kill us.

It makes sense. She could lie about whatever she wanted with the program without us around. Aside from the fact we were carrying the trials when it came to lies, we were the only one who knew anything remotely useful about the program because we helped he set things up and had an opportunity to snoop beforehand. Without us to contradict her, she could say whatever she wanted and she'd get away with it.

Everyone would die, so it had to be done.

But then imagine our NEW turmoil realizing we couldn't just get the job done ourselves.

If we wanted to avoid the program altogether, then everyone would think it suspicious of us. They all had a hate-boner for us for whatever reason, so any complaints from us would be regarded with suspicion at best and malice at worst.

If we tried to kill Iruma ourselves, we'd die because of the way she programmed our avatar. Iruma's not stupid, she knew who she was dealing with and wanted to room for us to be able to fight back at all.

So we had to get someone else to do it.

And the only person who left who listened to us at that point was Gokuhara.

Maybe we should have made our own post. An X on Y Essay or something, we don't know. Not a lot of people take kindly to the first person speech on analysis posts we've seen.

But we had to say it.

It hurt.

It hurt it hurt it hurt.

In one fell swoop we were forced to lose both of our only remaining companions. We would've been content with the 50/50 split and going down with the ship. That would have been fair, we think.

But that's not what happened.

Even then, nothing seems to go out way and we had to survive and reckon with what we'd done.

You all know the rest of the story. How much of a wreck we were after the trial. Our downward spiral after that. Our doubling down.

We were alone. And we always would be.

honestly everyone in v3 who survived up until chapter 5 is such a clown for believing kokichi was the mastermind

[viaxslz]

﹙ ♡` 𓈃 BASEBALL 𓏵⠀

享受 ! .°. ݁₊ 𐙚 f!reader (I think), cw: established relationship, y/n is kinda dense abt baseball,help seungmin, pet name, they kiss like two times, they’re just so lovey dovey in love, not proofread :P, requested, was meant for the 100 event, 2.1k WC

Request: I was thinking a Seungmin fluff just about spending the day at a baseball game together, but the reader lowkey knows nothing about baseball, so he has to explain little things to her during the game, and by the end, she starts to love it as much as he does.

VIA: I have one more request which was meant for the 100 followers event which I cancelled bc (you see the reason right now) so after these, this might be the only time I’ll do request, for the person who requested so sorry it took about hundred years (I’ve had this request since September 💀😭)

Seungmin and Y/N walked hand in hand to the baseball stadium, the warm sun shining down on them. Seungmin was practically bouncing with excitement, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.

"I'm so glad we're doing this," he said, squeezing Y/N's hand. "I've been waiting all week for the game."

Y/N smiled and leaned into him. "I'm happy to spend the day with you," she said. "But I have to admit, I don't really get baseball."

Seungmin's face lit up with a grin. "That's okay," he said. "I'll teach you everything you need to know. By the end of the game, you'll be a baseball expert."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "We'll see about that," she teased.

As they found their seats and settled in for the game, Seungmin began to explain the basics of baseball to Y/N. He told her about the different positions, the rules of the game, and the strategies involved.

Y/N listened intently, asking questions and giggling at Seungmin's silly analogies. Seungmin was happy to oblige, enjoying the chance to share his passion with the person he loved.

As the game began, Seungmin and Y/N cheered and clapped along with the rest of the crowd. Y/N was still a bit lost, but Seungmin was always there to guide her, explaining what was happening on the field.

As the game began, Seungmin's excitement was palpable. He leaned forward in his seat, his eyes fixed intently on the field.

"Okay, so the pitcher is winding up... and here comes the ball!" Seungmin exclaimed, his voice rising in excitement.

Y/N watched with a smile as Seungmin provided a play-by-play commentary of the game. He explained the different types of pitches, the strategies of the players, and the rules of the game.

At first, Y/N was a bit lost, but Seungmin's enthusiasm was infectious. She found herself getting caught up in the excitement, cheering along with Seungmin as the home team made a great play.

"Baby! Did you see that? The shortstop made an amazing catch!" Seungmin shouted, pumping his fist in the air.

Y/N laughed at Seungmin's antics, feeling happy to see him so carefree and joyful.

As the game continued, Seungmin's commentary became more and more animated. He jumped out of his seat to cheer, spilled popcorn on himself, and even did a little dance in the aisle.

Y/N couldn't help but giggle at Seungmin's silly behavior. She was having the time of her life, and it was all thanks to Seungmin's infectious enthusiasm.

As the game continued, Y/N turned to Seungmin with a curious expression. "Min, why do the players wear those funny pants?" she asked, giggling.

Seungmin chuckled and explained, "Those are baseball pants! They're designed to be comfortable and flexible, so the players can move around easily."

Y/N nodded, taking in the information. "Oh, okay. That makes sense. But why do they have those stripes on the sides?"

Seungmin grinned. "Those are just a design element. Some teams have stripes, while others have different patterns or logos."

Y/N smiled, feeling a bit more knowledgeable about the game. As the innings passed, she found herself getting more and more into the game. She cheered along with Seungmin, asked more questions, and even started to recognize some of the players.

Seungmin noticed Y/N's growing enthusiasm and smiled. "You're getting into it, aren't you?" he asked, nudging her playfully.

Y/N nodded, her eyes shining with excitement. "Yeah, I am! This is actually really fun."

Seungmin beamed with pride. "I told you it would be! Baseball is an amazing sport."

As the game neared its climax, Y/N found herself on the edge of her seat, cheering and chanting along with the rest of the crowd. She was having the time of her life, and it was all thanks to Seungmin's infectious enthusiasm.

As the game reached the middle innings, Seungmin and Y/N decided to take a break and grab some snacks. They walked to the concourse, hand in hand, and joined the line for the concession stand.

As they waited, Seungmin turned to Y/N and smiled. "I'm so glad you're enjoying the game," he said, his eyes shining with happiness.

Y/N smiled back, feeling a flutter in her chest. "I'm having a great time," she said. "Thanks for explaining everything to me."

Seungmin leaned in, his face inches from Y/N's. "Anytime," he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.

As they reached the front of the line, Seungmin ordered them a plate of nachos and a couple of drinks. They took their snacks and found a spot to sit, watching the game from a different angle.

As they sat there, Seungmin suddenly stood up and pulled Y/N into a romantic kiss. The crowd around them cheered, thinking it was a kiss cam moment, but Seungmin and Y/N didn't care. They were lost in their own little world.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as Seungmin's lips touched hers. She felt a rush of excitement and happiness, knowing that this was a moment she would never forget.

As they pulled back from the kiss, Seungmin grinned at Y/N. "I love you," he said, his voice filled with emotion.

Y/N's heart melted at his words. "I love you too," she replied, smiling up at him.

The rest of the game was a blur for Y/N. She was too busy basking in the glow of Seungmin's love to pay attention to the score. But she knew that this was a day she would always treasure, a day that would stay with her forever.

After the kiss, Seungmin and Y/N were both grinning from ear to ear. They decided to take a break from the game and explore the stadium.

They walked around the concourse, taking in the sights and sounds of the ballpark. They played a few games at the interactive exhibits, with Seungmin showing off his baseball trivia skills.

Y/N laughed and teased him good-naturedly, enjoying the lighthearted atmosphere. They took silly photos together, making funny faces and poses in front of the ballpark's iconic signs.

As they walked, they stumbled upon a stall selling all sorts of baseball-themed treats. Seungmin's eyes widened as he scanned the menu, and he promptly ordered them a plate of loaded fries, a giant pretzel, and a couple of churros.

Y/N giggled at Seungmin's enthusiasm, happy to indulge in the tasty snacks with him. They sat down at a table, munching away and people-watching as the crowd bustled by.

As they ate, Seungmin turned to Y/N with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Want to try something really adventurous?" he asked, his voice low and conspiratorial.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What is it?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Seungmin grinned. "I'll show you," he said, pulling Y/N to her feet and leading her off towards the next adventure.

Seungmin grinned mischievously as he led Y/N to a small food stall tucked away in a corner of the concourse. "I want to try something new," he said, his eyes scanning the menu.

Y/N raised an eyebrow as she read the options. "Fried crickets?" she asked, her voice skeptical.

Seungmin nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, I've heard they're really good! And we can't leave the stadium without trying something adventurous."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, but Seungmin's infectious enthusiasm eventually won her over. "Okay, fine," she said, laughing. "But if I start to gag, it's on you."

Seungmin chuckled and ordered them a plate of fried crickets, along with a side of spicy sauce. They sat down at a nearby table, and Seungmin picked up a cricket and dipped it in the sauce.

"Here goes nothing," he said, popping the cricket into his mouth.

Y/N watched in amazement as Seungmin chewed and swallowed, a look of surprise on his face. "Wow, that's actually really good!" he exclaimed.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really?" she asked, picking up a cricket and dipping it in the sauce.

She took a tentative bite, and her eyes widened in surprise. "Hey, this is actually pretty tasty!" she said, laughing.

Seungmin grinned, happy to have shared the experience with Y/N. "I told you it would be good!" he said, high-fiving her.

As they finished their snack, Y/N turned to Seungmin with a smile. "You know, I never would have tried that if it wasn't for you," she said.

Seungmin's face lit up with a warm smile. "That's what I'm here for," he said, taking her hand in his.

As the game entered its final innings, the energy in the stadium began to build. Seungmin's favorite team, the home team, was trailing by a run, but they were determined to make a comeback.

Seungmin and Y/N were on the edge of their seats, cheering and chanting along with the rest of the crowd. The tension was palpable as the home team's batter stepped up to the plate.

"Come on, come on!" Seungmin shouted, his voice hoarse from cheering. "You can do it!"

Y/N laughed and joined in, cheering and clapping along with Seungmin. The batter swung his bat, and the crowd erupted into cheers as the ball soared through the air.

"It's going, it's going, it's going!" Seungmin shouted, his eyes fixed on the ball.

Y/N watched in amazement as the ball sailed over the outfield wall, scoring a home run and tying the game. The crowd went wild, cheering and chanting as the home team's players celebrated on the field.

Seungmin and Y/N were hugging each other, screaming with excitement. They were both jumping up and down, waving their arms in the air.

This was it, the moment they had been waiting for. The home team was going to win the game, and Seungmin and Y/N were going to celebrate together.

As the home team's closer took the mound, Seungmin and Y/N were on the edge of their seats, cheering and chanting along with the rest of the crowd. The tension was palpable as the closer wound up and threw the final pitch.

The batter swung and missed, and the umpire shouted "Strike three!" as the crowd erupted into cheers. The home team's players rushed the field, celebrating their victory as Seungmin and Y/N hugged each other, screaming with excitement.

As they celebrated, Seungmin turned to Y/N and pulled her into a romantic kiss. The crowd around them cheered and whistled, but Seungmin and Y/N didn't notice. They were lost in their own little world, basking in the excitement and joy of the moment.

As they pulled back from the kiss, Seungmin grinned at Y/N, his eyes shining with happiness. "I'm so glad we got to experience this together," he said, his voice filled with emotion.

Y/N smiled back, her heart full of love for Seungmin. "Me too," she said, snuggling into his side. "This has been the perfect day."

Seungmin wrapped his arms around Y/N, holding her close as they watched the home team celebrate their victory. They stood there for a long time, basking in the joy and excitement of the moment, their love for each other shining brighter than the brightest stadium lights.

As the celebration died down and the crowd began to file out of the stadium, Seungmin and Y/N reluctantly said their goodbyes to the ballpark. They walked hand in hand out of the stadium, already making plans for their next adventure together.

The sun was setting over the horizon as they walked, casting a warm golden light over the city. Seungmin and Y/N walked in comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company as they basked in the glow of their perfect day.

After a while, Seungmin turned to Y/N and smiled. "You know, I think this has been one of the best days of my life," he said, his eyes shining with happiness.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she looked at Seungmin, her love for him overflowing from her heart. "Mine too," she said, smiling back at him.

Seungmin's face lit up with a warm smile, and he pulled Y/N into another romantic kiss. As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, Y/N knew that this was just the beginning of their perfect adventure together.

PERM TAGLIST 📌🔖 ──── @the-sea-called-history02 @oc3anfloor @intartaruginha