#or maybe it was somebody else's fault and he just went with it

[kakashisbabymama218]

i don’t know if I’d rather have mean katsuki who looks down at you with disgust as you pull off of his cock gasping for air, choking and sputtering, muttering out a ‘useless, can’t even suck dick right’ with a click of his tongue.

the words bring tears to your eyes but this time for a different reason. he’s nice enough to give you a couple of seconds to get your breathing back to normal and for the coughing to stop before he’s guiding your head right back to his cock, watching as your lips stretch to accommodate his girth.

he barely gives you a second to adjust before he’s pushing in deep, deeper than he was before. you try to breathe through your nose, taking in short puffs of air. you don’t last long before you’re sputtering and coughing, pulling off once again, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

katsuki makes an irritated sound in the back of his throat and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, it’s not your fault he’s so big! so long and thick that the thought of ever taking him fully down your throat was starting to seem impossible.

“maybe I should just go find somebody else to suck me off, maybe someone who can actually suck dick” he snaps.

ouch he’s really not holding back tonight is he? You’re tired of this, your jaw hurts and your pussy is throbbing and empty, slick dripping down your thighs.

I wish he would just hurry up and fuck me already!

katsuki lets out a laugh before he’s gripping your hair tightly in your hair, bending down until his face is directly in front of yours.

fuck, didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“you wish I would just hurry up and fuck you already, huh?” one hand wraps around your throat, the other making its way between your legs. His fingers trail over your clit, causing your hips to buck, desperate for release, before circling your entrance. “but if you can’t even take me down your throat, how could you ever expect to take me in this tight ass pussy?”

or sweet katsuki who presses gently kisses to your neck as he splits you open on his cock.

“you take me so well pretty girl” he murmurs against your neck, lips trailing up to kiss the shell of your ear. pulling out until slowly, one inch at a time until nothing but the fat head of his cock remains inside of you, before pushing right back in just a slowly. your head is thrown back in pleasure, moaning out as he grinds up into you.

“fuck baby” he sighs, you feel the words fall from his lips as he mumbles them against your skin. “so wet, so tight— so perfect”

katsuki lifts his head, his red eyes watching you, taking in every expression that crosses your face. from the way your eyes squeeze together tightly when he angles his hips up and hits that soft spot inside of you, to the way your lips part in a whimper when he brings his thumb down to rub circles your puffy clit, oversensitive from being ignored all night.

“please” you whine out.

Katsuki’s head cocks to the side “please what, baby?”

you’re not even sure what it is your asking for, maybe for him to stop or even speed up.

its too much; the way he throws his head back in pleasure, moaning loudly when you clench down tightly around him, his hips sputtering for just a moment before he regains his composure and fucks into you even deeper, pace picking up just a little before he slows right back down.

the warmth of his breath against your ear as he whispers filthy words that are a complete contrast to the way he fucks you so sweet and gentle as if you'd break if he went too hard.

the absolute fullness you feel as katsuki fills up every inch of your pussy, allowing you to feel each and every vein that drags along your walls.

“I love you” he tells you with a particularly deep thrusts, pulling a gasp from your lips.  

“I love you.” Paired with a kiss to your left cheek.

“I love you.” A kiss to your right cheek.

“I love you” he connects his lips to yours, one hand coming up to hold your cheek as he kisses you slowly, letting his tongue slip into your mouth as he swallows down your cries of pleasure.

or maybe I wanna mixture of both…

“listen to you” he coos, the hand not pumping in and out of you quickly coming up to rest against your throat. he’s still wearing all of his clothes not having enough time to take them off before you were tugging at his pants and dragging him towards the bedroom, pushing him down on the bed and lowering yourself down onto his awaiting mouth.

!ow he has you laid on your back, three fingers stuffed into your cunt as his thumb occasionally rubs at your clit before pulling away, leaving you panting and whining out at the lost of simulation.

he leans down, lips ghosting over yours. “already came twice but still begging for more.”

his hand tightens around your neck, fingers squeezing and cutting off your air supply for a few seconds before loosening his grip.

“greedy little thing” he mumbles before connecting his mouth to yours. The kiss is wet and messy and you can taste yourself on his tongue. you’re so lost in pleasure, the feeling of his mouth on yours that everything else seems to disappear.

katsuki curls his fingers and you cry out when he hits your gspot with each flick of his wrist. the familiar tightening in your tummy is what brings you back down to earth.

“gonna cu—“ you attempt to warn him only for it to be cut off with a long whine, your now empty hole clenching around nothing, instantly missing the feeling of being stuffed.

“why’d you stop?” you ask, glaring up at him.

“cause I wanna feel you cum around my cock”

“ooh fuckkk” you say in unison as katsuki sinks into your pussy. your hands find his back, nails scratching at his skin as he begins plowing into you, thrusting into you so fast you barely have time to breathe before the air is being knocked out of your lungs.

katsuki doesn’t slow down, instead he pulls you up against his chest and begins fucking into you. This new angle allowing him to reach even deeper.

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter One

All it took was a play date for Daniel Ricciarod to fall in love. His daughter playing with her son while he fell deeper and deeper.

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Chapter Two

Olivia Ricciardo came running out of daycare with a wide grin on her face. Her grandparents just wished her dad could have been there to see it as she ran into their arms. It wasn’t his fault; even once his little girl was born, he still had a job to do.

Daniel was there for half of the week at least. But for the rest of the week, his parents took care of her, feeding her, letting her sleep in the bedroom she had in their house, and transporting her to and from daycare. Every time her dad would leave, Olivia would scream and cry for at least a couple of hours. At least until her grandparents had her facetiming her father and Daniel could talk to his little girl.

This time, when Olivia came running out to her grandparents car, she immediately asked if she could call her daddy. “I wanna tell him about the new friend I made!” she said through a wide grin as she bounced in her seat.

As her grandma drove, her grandpa pulled out his phone, calling Daniel. He kept a hold of the phone until his son picked up. After saying hello to him, he passed the phone back to Olivia. “Hi daddy!” She called, but Daniel could hardly see her from how much she was moving the phone around.

“Hi, Livvy!” Daniel grinned at his daughter. He’d missed her so much this week. His short break the year before, before he had been placed in the AlphaTauri, he’d spent the entire time with Olivia. He’d only gone to the races on the weekends, and since Olivia only went to daycare on Tuesday to Friday, she went with him.

But now that Daniel was driving again, he left Olivia with his parents. He didn’t want to take her out of daycare to be at his races; that was how she socialized. And this was proof of that.

“Daddy, I made a new friend!” Olivia shouted.

Daniel couldn’t stop his grin from becoming wider at that. “That’s great news Livvy!” He shouted, telling the news to whoever was near him.

Suddenly the phone moved away from her dad. Olivia watched as somebody else grabbed hold of the phone, holding it in front of his face. “Hi, Livia!” Said her Uncle Max as he held the phone up in front of his face. As usual, he wore his Redbull hat. This one had a number One on it. Olivia had several Redbull hats. She had several with her dad’s number and one of Max’s old ones, with the thirty-three on it. “Your dad tells me you made a new friend!”

“Yeah, uncle Max. His name is Milo and he shared his crayons with me so that I could do my colouring book.”

"That's great, Livia!" Max said.

He said his goodbyes and passed the phone back to Daniel, who was only too happy to be talking to his daughter again. "Maybe you could invite Milo round for a playdate when you're back from your mum's house, Badger," he said and the smile dropped from Olivia's face.

It was so secret who Olivias favourite parents was. Even though she rarely got to see him, she loved her dad more than anything. Daniel didn't know what happened at his ex's place in what made Olivia hate it so much, but he had no right to stop it.

If he tried, his ex could easily pull up the fact that Daniel was never there and his parents saw Olivia more than he did. If Olivia would tell him why she hated it, maybe he could do something that would stop her from having to spend every other week with her mother.

"But, daddy, I want to be there when you get home," Olivia said, wearing a pout.

Daniel hated seeing his little girl like that. He loved her more than anything and never wanted to see the smile drop from her face. His Olivia, he'd go to the ends of the earth for her.

The people surrounding him indicated that it was time to go, but Daniel kept smiling as he looked at the phone. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay, Badger?"

"Okay," she said and passed the phone back to her grandfather without saying goodbye.

Daniel smile turned sad as he looked at his father. "Make sure she has snuffles before she goes," he said sadly before saying goodbye to his parents. They knew what to do by now, they'd been sending her to her mother’s house for the last five years.

“What’re we having for dinner tonight, Livvy?” Her grandma asked as they pulled into the driveway.

The scowl dropped from Oliva’s face and she started bouncing in her seat, chanting ‘turkey dinosaurs!’ over and over again.

Turkey dinosaurs it was.

***

“Milo, honey, can you feed the cat please!” Y/N shouted, pulling the phone away from her ear as she turned back to the stove.

Milo came running down the stairs, already in his dinosaur pyjamas and dinosaur slippers. He ran to the front door, where the cat bowl was, and used the tiny, novelty shovel to scoop the cat food into the bowl. It was a little too much, but Poppy (the cat) wouldn’t mind.

“Wash your hands for dinner!” She shouted and placed the phone back between her shoulder and her ear.

“Mum, I don’t need your money,” she said as she plated up the Italian dish she had made. Well, it was spaghetti with carbonara, with turkey dinosaurs on the side to get Milo to eat it.

She heard her mother sigh down the phone. “Well, if you won’t take our money, your father and I are going to visit,” she said and hung up, without saying so much as a goodbye.

Placing her phone down, Y/N put the plates on the table and waited for Milo to come running in. He jumped into his chair and picked up his knives and fork. “I made a new friend today, momma!” Called Milo as he put down his knife and fork and picked up the turkey tyrannosaurus. He bit the head off and roared with the food still in his mouth, leading his mother to scold him.

“Tell me about your new friend, Mi,” she said as she ate her own dinner (like Milo, Y/N had a turkey dinosaur on her plate. It was the triceratops, Milo’s least favourite).

So, Milo told his mother all about his new friend, Olivia Ricciardo. He boasted about how he shared his pencils and Miss Green didn’t even have to ask him. Olivia sat beside him as they coloured, telling him all about her dad who drove race cars.

“Yeah, momma! Her dad is a famous race car driver! How cool is that?”

“Very cool, Milo,” Y/N answered as she picked up his plate to clear up. Of course, she didn’t believe that Milo’s new friend’s father was a famous race car driver. That was the sort of things kids said to impress each other. Just six months before Milo had told some boys that his father was a famous football player.

Milo stayed sat at the kitchen table, kicking his feet. “I can’t wait for daycare,” he said to himself as he knocked his fist against the table in time to the music.

Y/N couldn’t stop herself from grinning as Milo continued talking about daycare. It hadn’t had an easy time making friends, but now he had one and she couldn’t be happier.

As soon as she was finished with the washing up, Y/N ruffled his hair with her soapy hands. “Bedtime, little man,” she said, and Milo jumped out of his chair and ran up the stairs.

He ran into his bedroom and dove under the covers. He grabbed a hold of Rexy, his tyrannosaurus teddy bear, and Spike, his Stegosaurus teddy bear, and held them close. He watched as his mum walked in and pulled a book from his shelf. “How do we feel about the magician’s nephew?” She asked as she pulled the little book from the shelf.

“Yay, Narnia!” Milo called as Y/N sat on the end of the bed and cracked open the book. Just a few months ago Milo had been complaining about picture books, since one of the boys in his class had started reading actual books. So, Y/N was working with him so that he could read ordinary books on his own.

“Momma,” Milo began, interrupting her as she read. “Can Olivia come round for a playdate?”

Y/N placed a dinosaur bookmark between the pages. “Only if Olivia’s mummy and daddy say it’s okay,” she said as she put the book back and switched on his dinosaur night light.

“Olivia doesn’t like her mummy,” Milo replied as she turned on his side, still holding Spike and Rexy.

Y/N walked over and kissed the top of his head as she tucked him in. “Well, I’ll just have to speak to her daddy then, won’t I,” she said and stood up straight. “Goodnight, Munchkin,” she said as Milo turned towards the wall, his eyes shut.

“Goodnight, momma.”

Y/N walked out of the room, leaving the door open just a little. As she left Poppy the cat ran in and jumped on his bed (a dinosaur blanket, of course), curling up by his feet.

With Milo now asleep, Y/N went back downstairs. She sat at the kitchen table, pulled out her laptop and, like she did every night, began writing.

[sagesskies]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʙᴜʟʟʏ

✒ ᴀ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ

☏ - ɪꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɢᴜʏ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀ ʙᴜʟʟʏ??? ʟᴍᴀᴏ… ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴀɴ ᴀꜱꜱʜᴏʟᴇ……. ɪ'ʟʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴇɴꜱᴀᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɢᴀʙᴇ ɢᴜʏꜱ ꜰʀꜰʀ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ɴᴏɴᴄᴏɴ, ʜᴏᴍᴏᴘʜᴏʙɪᴀ, ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴄʏ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ (ʙʏ ᴀ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ), ʙᴜʟʟʏɪɴɢ, ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ꜱʟᴜʀꜱ, ʀᴀᴘʜᴀᴇʟ ᴄᴀᴍᴇᴏ, ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰʀᴇᴀᴅ, ꜰᴇᴇʟ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱʟɪᴅᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀꜱᴋʙᴏx ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ

Yandere Best Friend who was the king of the school, ruling over his subjects with an iron fist. They kissed his feet, and in turn he'd shove them into lockers when he felt grouchy and have them fetch his cigarettes so the teachers wouldn't know they were his. 

Yandere Best Friend who was once your best friend. Your ride or die who would have your back even when he acted like a complete ass sometimes. Sure he was wicked and cruel, but never to you. 

Yandere Best Friend who always kept you close, closer than Harry, closer than Hannah. He would pick you up from your house, he would eat at your table and welcome you to eat at his own. You would spend nights in his room, never on his bed, of course. But he'd take the initiative and set out an inflatable mattress for you, which was more than he'd ever do for the other guys who he'd leave to sleep on the cold hard floor.

Yandere Best Friend who you absolutely despised. Seriously, just the sight of him was enough to ruin your day. This wasn't petty envy– okay, well maybe it was. Just a bit. You hated how your parents blindly adored and praised him (“Why can't you just be more like Richard?”), you hated how you were known first and foremost as his best friend, Richard's cheerful little lapdog. You hated how you spent so much of your life at his beck and call, because what else were you supposed to do? Ignore him? Fuck. Even as kids, that would be social suicide. 

Yandere Best Friend who liked you more than you thought you did. He was always weirdly drawn to you, in the same way a starving dog would be to a rare bone thrown it's way. Hungry, possessive, and greedy. You reasoned it as something like imprinting, you were his first real friend. Not a mindless follower in awe of his assertive charisma. But somebody who he initially perceived as an equal. You say initially, because at this point he sees you less as an equal and more of an extension of himself, like a nice watch he can't bear to take off. 

You only truly discovered how deep this went when he learned you and Harry were sleeping together. 

Really it was Harry's fault. 

You were supposed to go have dinner with Richard's family at their place, a monthly tradition both your parents established when you two were young and have since kept up without fail. But then he yelled for you outside your window, and, well… he was still wet from his shower and you could never resist him when he was wearing his letterman jacket. 

That was when it started, you think. The first little clue in Richard's very own Nancy Drew mystery that has led him to slamming your bedroom door open on a Friday night while your parents are out of town.

“Jesus, ever learned how to knock?” You place a hand to your chest and act shocked, like swinging the door open like a battering ram wasn't a regular occurence. 

Usually Richard would respond with teasing, jokingly apoligzing for startling your poor, weak heart or for attacking your sensitive ears with such a loud noise. You never liked it, but you heard it so much at this point that it stopped bothering you a long time ago. 

“What the fuck is up with you and Harry?” 

‘You and Harry’. Three words you used to be afraid hearing in one go. You still are. Whenever somebody would say, “I saw you and Harry,” you would force a smile on your face and respond with, “Really?” 

But this is a different question. “What is up with you and Harry?” 

Your mind can only come up with one answer as to why Richard asked this question and that alone is to send you into panic mode. 

But you simply raise your brow, “Uh, nothing? Is this about the brownies? Sorry if I gave him extra but you didn't finish your share so if it's anybody's fault it's yours–” 

“This isn't about your shit brownies [Name]—” 

You gasp, once again pressing a hand to your chest, making sure to exaggerate your expression, but not too much, just enough to look convincing, “How dare you! You said you loved them—”

“Well I lied, idiot,” Richard's gaze hardened, he crossed his arms as he stood over you while you sat cross legged on your bed, “And don't change the subject!”

You raise your hands in faux-surrender and try to look like your feelings have been hurt, “I wasn't! You shit talked my brownies– which I'm not gonna forgive by the way— and I just defended them like any normal person would.” 

“So yeah, Richard, we are staying on subject! The subject is simply about my amazing brownies and your crappy taste buds.” 

Richard’s nostrils flare in exasperation. He curses under his breath while he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a polaroid picture which he then shoves at your chest. You look at the picture, and you can't restrain yourself from releasing the ensuing gasp. 

It was you and Harry, in Harry's car at night parked near the lake on the outskirts of town, making out under the cover of darkness. 

“Woah, holy shit– Harry's gay?!” 

“You're making out with him in the picture–” 

“Nahhh, that's not me bro! I was out… fishing with my… great uncle.” 

“Your great uncle died two years ago.”

“Well, I have another great uncle, and he's in tip top shape. Asshole.” 

“You have the same baseball hat you're wearing in that picture.”

“...No I don't.” 

Richard stares at you, then silently points to an identical hat on your bedside table.

“That's not mine. I borrowed it from Steve.” 

“Fucker, I gave you that for your fifteenth birthday.” 

—

Richard always knew something wasn't right with you. 

Listen, he didn't believe in whatever bullshit Father Callahan spewed from his mouth. Gay guys were freaks of nature, sure, but they weren't sent by the devil. 

But you were an exception. Shit, with the way you made him feel maybe you were a little succubus made to take him off the righteous path or whatever. 

Ever since you guys were kids he's always felt this uncontrollable desire to have absolute and complete control over your entire being. Richard doesn't know to describe it as anything other than an almost instinctual impulse, the universe telling him that you were meant to be his when he was still too young to understand. 

Still. He thought that you would have standards. Richard could see the common sense in wanting to bone, whenever he got to get it on with Hannah he was in bliss even if she wasn't you, but for you to choose Harry. The spoiled little wuss Harold Kelly, instead of him? 

He treated you better than the rest, but he had limits. Limits you overstepped. It's only fair that you're going to get punished. 

“Ahaha… uh, are you sure that's me and Harry in that picture…?” 

Richard clicks his tongue. When would you understand that there was no use denying it? 

“That is literally Harry's exact plate number on that car.” 

Your shoulders slump, and Richard feels a mix of dread and satisfaction at the resigned expression on your face. Satisfaction because he won. Dread because his worst fears have been confirmed. 

“Who took the picture?” 

Richard snatches the photo away from you, “Made that little freak Greg Werner stalk you two,” He sneers and takes a step closer, “Bet he got a lot of fap material from that. Scrawny little guy like him, there's no question he's a fag. You would know, wouldn't you? You're just like him after all–” 

“Okay, fine! So what if I am?” You jab your index finger into his chest, his green eyes widening as they focus on it, “What I do in my private time is my business and none of yours. My life is barely even my own, and it's all. Because. Of. You! So don't you fucking dare take what little personal pleasure I have away from me.” 

With each word you speak, Richard's heart aches. It's a sharp, cold pain like a knife is being stabbed into his does. There's a silence when you finish, taut with your resentment and Richard's hesitant regret. He wants to say something, but what could he say? That it wasn't his fault? That he was sorry? That he didn't want you to leave him? He felt like he was watching a beautiful bird he had nursed back to health and kept safe from the dangers of the world start flapping its wings and fly, far, far away from him. 

“Get out, Richard,” You turn away from him, “If you want me to leave your group and fuck off then I'll do so gladly.” 

“No.” Richard grabs your arm. 

“Wha- what do you mean no? Richard let go of me.” 

Richard weighs what is important to him on a scale in his mind. You, or his status. 

You were his best friend. Even if you were starting to slip away, to college, to Harry, out of his sight and out of his life, you were the only person he wanted to keep in his life. The only friend he could see himself going out for drinks with when he was older. 

You were his first love. His only love. The first subject of his shameful adolescent dreams that left him awake at night, sweaty and spent on his bed. Once he had contemplated running away with you, changing names, and living a life free from the close minded small town in the middle of bumfuck nowhere the two of you grew up in. 

But he had a reputation to maintain. A father who he had to satisfy with the standard accomplishments a father would expect of his son. He had a girlfriend whose father was the town's mayor. A town whose watchful eyes praised him as a good, upstanding young man who was destined for greatness. A star athlete who was going to play in the big leagues and finally place the town on the map. 

In the grand scheme of things, you were just another teenager in his shadow. 

You were destined to be remembered in history as merely another name in his autobiography. Richard Shepherd's childhood best friend. 

However Richard's stomach curled at the thought of that. You and him, separated. No longer within the same circle, but in different worlds entirely. 

The scales tip in your favour.

—

What happens next is a blur. You're shoved into the mattress of your bed and pinned down. You try to escape and Richard cows you into submission with a punch to the gut that nearly has you hurling from the force.

Your clothes are ripped from your skin, your protests go unheard, your body is a tool. Richard too has stripped himself, he spreads your legs. He grabs you by the chin when you close you try to look away, “Unless you want this to hurt more you're going to look at me when I do this.” 

So you look, and you cry, and you weep as you feel his cock invade you. It's not a dry insertion, but God it still hurts. Richard gasps when he sheathes himself fully inside, his eyes are blown wide and his mouth hangs open like he's seeing stars. His fingers dig into your waist, and he bites his lip, his face tells it all and even in this position you can't help but smirk. Feels better than Hannah's, doesn't it Richard? 

That's the last thought you remember having before Richard goes wild. 

You do it on your bed, against your desk, pressed against the cool surface of your window. Richard cums multiple times inside you, he even cries at one point, screaming words you can barely remember in your fucked out state as tears streamed down his cheeks. 

Richard makes you scream his name as he moans out yours. He asks if Harry kissed you before and when you're too tired to respond he slams his lips into yours and practically eats away at your mouth. 

Eventually he finishes, pulling out of your worn out hole, with a wet plap. Your body shudders as you release a long, shaky breath. 

“You’ve ruined me,” Richard pants, his blonde hair is sticking up, he’s covered in a light sheen of sweat, and his green eyes are blown wide open as he tries to compose himself, “I… I can’t- Hannah could never…” 

He stares at you as you lie below him, equally sweaty, your neck and shoulders are littered with hickeys and bite marks, and you’re on the verge of passing out. The rims of your eyes are red, and your face is moist with tears. Your lip is swollen from Richard’s teeth digging into them, nearly tearing them off in his fervour. 

You look like you’re about to die. 

He looks more alive than he ever has before. 

Richard looks like he wants to do it again. 

Yet his eyes are filled with fear, and you want to laugh, but your throat is crying out in pain.

“You’ve ruined me.”

Yandere Best friend Bully who keeps you on a shorter leash now. He doesn't do anything in public. Okay, that's a lie. But he makes sure he doesn't get caught. And despite being the classic stereotype of a small town jock, complete with his hot cheerleader girlfriend and powerful inner circle, he's not an idiot. He doesn't do anything to out you, or even leave any hints to your sexuality. He doesn't even tell Harry he knows. No, this is his little secret. Your little secret. Just like the old days when the two of you had a secret fort deep in the woods behind his father's farm. 

Yandere Bully who knows he can't keep you around his group, even to be the new punching bag. The guys would be too grossed and the girls.. well he didn't really care what they thought actually. Same went for the guys, to be honest. What mattered was the words they would say that would be whispered and spread like wildfire around the school. 

Richard likes keeping the school homo around

Really? 

Really! 

You think he fucks the fag? 

Why else? I don't see any bruises on the fucker’s face 

Yandere Bully who can't bring himself to hurt you. Is he disappointed? Yes. Is he furious? Yes. Does he want to beat somebody’s head in till the anger goes away? Oh, no doubt. But if he were to ever hit your handsome face then he'd hit himself over the head with a brick a hundred times over. 

Yandere Bully who resorts to being rough. He uses you like you're a lowly hooker, here to give him happiness and send him flying high to heaven with pleasure. He pins your wrists above your head. He smacks your ass. Digs his nails into your solid muscle till you bleed. He litters your skin with harsh, red bitemarks. 

You would cover it all up the next day by saying you spent the night with a girl. You never say, you never do, so nobody questions who. He used to be jealous, resentful of whatever bitch was able to lay her needy hands on you, but now he only smirks at the sight of the miserable pout on Harry's face. 

Yandere Bully who doesn't spare Harry either. Bumping into him in the hallways. Stomping on his foot during football practice. Flirting with his girlfriend by the lockers, a smirk on his face while his eyes are on Harry, quietly fuming while his girlfriend giggles and twirls her hair bashfully. His humiliation of Harry is what makes the other guys join in. They jeer at him, mock him by asking if he liked getting cucked, and start slowly respecting him less. That is, till you step in of course.

Yandere Bully who ignores the bitter complaints of the other guys, angered by the humiliation they suffer at your hands, and watches as resentment stews inside him as you scold Harry, hands brushing a stray chestnut lock away from his eyes while he smiles sheepishly, his ears burning red after being graced with your touch after so long of being deprived of it. The two of you looked natural, you looked happy, really happy. Real happy, with a real smile to boot.

Yandere Bully who sometimes wonders, during nights when he has you in his arms, your back facing him as you avoid his intense gaze by placing yourself in front of the wall, what exactly your feelings for Harry entail. Did you just want to fuck or did you like Harry the same way Hannah liked Richard? 

Yandere Bully who sometimes wonders what he feels for you. He likes you, more than Harry, and certainly more than Hannah. But sometimes he wonders what's the difference between liking somebody and desiring them. 

One day he looks at you the morning after a raunchy night in your bed and the sun pours in from your window, your brows furrow and a frown forms on your face. You bury your head in your pillow, and Richard decides that whatever he felt for you was completely beyond his comprehension. 

Yandere Bully who should have known that Harry would start poking his nose eventually. He couldn't understand what you wanted from Harry, but he knew that he and Harry wanted the same thing from you: You in your unsullied entirety. 

Yandere Bully who one day finds you alone in a room with Harry. He looks through a small gap in the doorway, and Harry is on his knees, drying your leg with a towel. The group was staying at Harry’s lakeside cabin during the summer, and you had all come back from swimming in the lake. Harry looks up at you from beneath his eyelashes, a seemingly innocent smile on his face while you narrow your eyes at him, a smirk curling at your lips. 

Richard does a sharp intake of breath at your laugh, floating through the air like a gentle, silvery breeze. Your head rests on your hand while the other plays with Harry's damp hair, “Jesus christ, it was freezing though,” You shudder at the memory of it, “I felt like I was gonna turn into a popsicle.” 

Harry giggles, fucker actually giggled, “Bet you'd be a hot popsicle though.” 

“What the hell— A hot popsicle? You mean sexy?” At Harry's shy nod, you throw your head back and laugh, “So what, you're gonna drag your tongue over me and lick every inch of my body?” 

Harry's ears start to burn red, “Well… I wouldn't… I wouldn't mind doing it even if… you aren't a popsicle…” 

Before you can even respond, Richard swings the door wide open and the two of you snap to attention, Harry jolts and quickly scrambles to his feet and you practically leap off of the bed.

“Richard! Buddy! Pal! Amigo!” Harry exclaims, “What're you doing there at the door? Come in, come in! We were just talking about… uh—” 

“The temperature,” You supply seamlessly with a firm nod, “I think my balls froze off in the lake man, they're numb as hell.” 

Harry gapes at you for a moment before shaking his head with fervour and then nodding with the same amount of intensity, “Yep! How about we go on a walk after lunch? Absorb some good ol’ vitamin D, whaddya say Richard?” 

Richard narrows his gaze at the two of you, his eyes flickering to Harry who beams like an idiot dog, then to you who sports a similar ‘ignorant’ smile. 

“Bring it up with the others,” Richard mutters in gruff tone, “[Name] go tell them to start making lunch, Harry stay behind would you? I have to talk to you about something.”

“About what?”

“Football.” 

“Ah, okie doke!” Harry smiles, not a single thought behind his blue eyes, “Seeya later [Name]!” 

You hesitate for a moment, chewing your lip in thought, but a sharp glare from Richard is enough to have you roll your eyes and head out, “Don't take too long unless you wanna be eating our leftovers.” 

“So is it about the upcoming game? The Bears have got nothing on us man, don't you sweat–” 

“Harry, you buffoon, that was obviously just a guise,” Richard closes the door shut, “I want you to stay away from [Name].” 

“Huh? Why?” Harry cocks his head to the side, “Is something wrong? Did [Name] do something?”

“It doesn't matter,” Richard waves his hand like he's swatting flies away, “I don't want you anywhere near him. Not even within an inch.”

“You can't just do that Richard,” Harry protests, but Richard is already turning away from him. 

“I can,” Richard narrows his eyes at him, green against blue, “And I will.” 

Before his fingers can even brush the metal of the doorknob, Harry grabs Richard's shoulder and spins him around, “No, Richard, you can't.”

There's an unusually serious expression on Harry's face that Richard never thought he'd see till Harry would reach his thirties, that is, if they were to even remain in touch. 

Harry was a coward, plain and simple. He cried like a bitch when he watched scary movies, he was deathly afraid of the dark, once on a previous trip to the Cabin there was a spider in the bedroom and he simply stood on the couch pointing and screaming at the insect as his own girlfriend was the one who took it outside using a glass cup and a piece of paper. 

When they first met, it took only three minutes for Richard to cement himself in Harry's mind as a person to listen to, to respect, and obey. And it was something that wouldn't change, till just now that is. 

“I know you've been doing something to [Name],” Harry stares him down, for the first time in his life it truly registers in Richard just how tall Harry is as he stands nearly half a head above him, “And whatever it is, I want you to stop.”

Richard sneers, “Look at you. Harold Kelly. The town pushover finally grew some balls, huh?” He shoves Harry away, “But if you think I'm going to listen to you just because of that then you really are as big of an idiot as everybody says you are.” 

Harry shakes his head, “You're hurting him, you know?” He meets Richard's piercing gaze without flinching, “You keep pushing him like this and he's going to snap eventually.” 

“Why do you care? What is he, your little girlfriend? That why you didn't bother stepping up when your girlfriend had her mitts all over me?” 

“He's my friend Richard, and friends care for each other,” Harry frowns, a disappointed look in his eyes that makes Richard want to sock him across the face (Who is he to look at him like that?), “You'd know that if you weren't so selfish.” 

“What are you trying to say to me Harry?” Richard takes another step forward, smirking when Harry instinctively backs away, “If you're saying I don't care about [Name] then you're dead wrong, because nobody will ever care for him in his life as I will, not even you Harry. You wanna know why? Because you don't understand him, nobody does. Nobody except me, and that's why even if you two are flirting and going at each other like the little fairies you two are, the only person who will stay in his life forever is me.”

“You know?” Harry's voice is quiet, whatever bravery he mustered up is gone and he's back to the wuss Richard pushes around in his free time. 

“Of course I do, nobody knows him better than I do after all, this is no exception.” 

Harry's mouth hangs open slightly, and Richard snickers at the expression, smirking at his undeniable triumph over the other, “I won't say it again Harry, leave [Name] alone. If you don't, I'll tell the school you've been raping him.” 

The threat makes Harry flinch, “No… you wouldn't.” 

“You know better than to think that Harry.” 

“E-even if you did, nobody would believe you!” 

“Harry people have seen [Name] with your hickeys and bite marks, it wouldn't be so hard to convince them you're gay and Lucy is just your beard. Besides,” Richard drawls in a sing-song tone, “I have pictures~” 

Harry's visage is consumed by an expression of defeat and hopelessness, “This is wrong Richard, you're ruining his life.” 

“Please, if anything the only reason he has this life is because of me,” Richard scoffs, ignoring the twinge in his chest at Harry's words, “Now, if you'll excuse me.” 

Without waiting for a response, Richard enters the dining room, and takes a seat beside Hannah and across you. 

“What took you so long?” Hannah looks up from her plate, a bored look in her eyes. 

Richard peck's her on the forehead, lips stiff, “Harry and I were talking about football.” 

“Geez,” Hannah rolls her eyes, “All boys talk about is sports and cars, tsk.” 

“Don't forget the girls,” Peter jokes. 

Hannah wrinkles her nose, “Eugh.” 

You send him a narrowed glance, a silent question hung in the air between the two of you. What happened? 

Richard merely smirks, it widens at Harry's arrival. You look at Harry hopefully, only to visibly deflate when he sits beside Lucy at the other end of the table. 

You turn to Richard again, eyes hardened, “What did you say?” You mouth. 

Richard shrugs. You curse under your breath. 

Yandere Bully who you can't stand anymore. At this point, could your life really be called your own? Richard always had his eye on you, day and night. He would spend his entire day with you. Even staying behind after practice to shower with you. He would eat at your table during dinner and stay over the night, you would be caged in your own bed, struggling to sleep while his hot breath fanned against your neck. 

Fuck. Even Tommy would send you pitying glances when you would visit his house. Tommy! The kid you would pin down while Richard tore up his drawings in front of him. 

The last straw is Harry. Lovable, cowardly, foolish Harry. Harry who avoids your gaze and practically flees when you enter his vicinity. Harry who tells you that he can’t see you anymore. That he shouldn't. That what the two of you are doing is wrong, it always has been. 

You can't take this anymore. You have to get away. From the school. From the town. From Richard fucking Shepherd. You could tolerate it, barely but you could tolerate it. But then Harry broke your heart and suddenly you don't have a reason to tolerate what Richard is doing to you anymore. 

Yandere Bully who expects to be offered full-ride scholarships to ivy-league colleges, but when scouts arrive they ignore him in favour of team players like Harry. You know this because the same night after Harry proudly announces he got a scholarship to the University of Michigan, he fucks you in the backseat of his car without a single shred of mercy, cursing under his breath the entire time. Talk about envy. 

Yandere Bully whose expression can only be described as devastated when you break the news over dinner that a college in the city has accepted you, over his parents congratulating you and your parents tearful smiles, he looks like he's about to cry and scream at you all at once.

Yandere Bully who that night, in the barn on top the stacks of hay, when he thinks you've passed out he hugs you, actually hugs you, as sobs rack through his frame. He begs you not to leave him, and you feel almost guilty for not opening your eyes and assuring him that you won't. But you don't, because even you're not so cruel as to give him such an empty promise. 

Yandere Bully who never sees you again after graduation. He tries to get you to stay, he even threatens releasing the pictures, but your only response is a shrug. 

“Will you miss me?” 

You scoff, “Will I miss you? Richard, there's nothing to miss. If anything, I should be asking you that question.” 

“What's that supposed to mean?” 

“I think you know exactly what it means.” 

“Enlighten me then.”

“You love me.” 

“You're delusional.”

“Wow, look at the pot calling the kettle black,” You chuckle. 

“I'm not gay [Name].” 

“Then why were you so mad about Harry then?’ 

“Because he was a fag.” 

"Well, I'm a fag too, but you certainly treat me better than you ever treated Harry.” 

“That's because you're different.” 

“I'm special.” 

“Whatever you wanna call it.” 

“I'm special… because you love me.” 

“I don't love you.” 

“But will you miss me?” 

“You're going to come back.” 

“And how are you so sure?” 

“Because I said so.” 

You smile, “Don't count on it, Richard.”

Yandere Bully who breaks up with Hannah eventually, after she catches him cheating on her with a relative of yours who was staying in town. What can he say? She had your eyes. 

Yandere Bully who only has the old baseball hat he gave you for your birthday to remember you by. It's either you forgot to pack it or you left it behind on purpose. Even if it hurts, he prefers the latter. At least it meant he mattered to you in some way, even if it's in a negative light. He always wears the hat, even if Raph teases him for it, all he has to do is knock the little shit in the head and he shuts his mouth about Richard's fashion choices.

Yandere Bully who writes letters he never sends, words written in a rough scrawl confessing truths he was too afraid to admit, that he's still afraid to admit to this day. 

[Name]

Sunflower gave birth today, a colt with a coat the colour of chocolate. We named it London. I think dad has been thinking of going there, but I don't think he ever will. 

Have you gone to London? I hope you haven't. We wanted to go there together, didn't we? You wanted to meet Harry Potter and I wanted to… well I didn't want to do anything there. I think I didn't mind where I was, I just wanted to be with you. 

I wish you came back. I wish you never left. I wish you stayed with me in this shitty town and worked with me in my family's shitty farm. I know it's cruel, and I know you don't deserve it, but neither do I okay? I deserved a life with you and it's unfair that you got to leave and I'm still trapped here

Sunflower misses you, I think she got more sad when you left and hasn't changed since. She keeps whinnying like she's calling out for you and it bothers all the other horses because they can't sleep, and when they can't sleep then I can't sleep, and you know I fucking hate it when I can't sleep so could you just come back and spare me further trouble? 

I got rid of the pictures. You don't have to worry about anything. I just need you back here. So I can sleep. 

Richard 

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.

[wrldhoon]

where you are (2)

PAIRING. jungwon ༝ fem.ᐟreader

WORD COUNT. 3.1k

GENRE. angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ f2l ⋆ crack (?)

part one

note: and SHE’S DONE!! i wanted an all hurt no comfort fic but honestly i craved a happy ending for them too so🤗 TYSM FOR THE LOVE ON THE FIRST PART i hope you guys enjoy this one too <3

this fic was inspired by this song !

it was strange.

feelings—how they come and go.

people, too.

one day, you wake up and suddenly everything feels different. whether it was good or bad was up to interpretation, really.

it had been two weeks.

two weeks since you had your heart ripped out of your chest.

you couldn’t even be upset, because it was your fault. you had pushed away the one person you never thought would leave your side. the person you had trusted with your life, your heart. he didn’t know that, though.

or maybe he did.

two weeks.

fourteen days since jungwon had last seen you at that cafe. the one you had both frequented every other day after class. except, he had went with somebody else. he hadn’t meant to hurt you. he didn’t think you still cared.

you had distanced yourself from him without any real explanation. it had hurt.

a lot.

at first, he thought it was because you had been his friend for so long. you were special, he knew that for sure, and he always had this spot for you in his heart as his best friend.

he held you when you cried, whispered sweet nothings into your ears as you fell asleep in his arms after hours of sobbing into his chest, bought you your favorite snacks without even thinking about it because he knew how much you craved them after a hard day. you always did the same.

he was your person, and you were his.

at least, he thought so.

when you first started pulling away, he didn’t question it much. you had your own life and he had his. then, it became an ongoing pattern.

the toothbrush he left in your bathroom turned dry and rough from lack of use. the sweater he had left on your chair started to smell more like your air freshener than his own cologne. he saw you less in the hallway of your own dorm. he no longer ordered a second drink when he would visit the cafe after class. the one he had memorized since freshman year and would always bring to you when he would visit.

even the barista noticed.

“can i just get an americano, please?” jungwon reached into his bag to pull out his wallet, fishing for cash.

“and the strawberry milk tea, right?” she smiled at him knowingly, her fingers instinctually clicking at the screen in front of her to add the sugary drink he had always remembered to get for you.

it was cute.

his hands froze, mouth suddenly feeling dry. he looked up at her with a strained smile.

“no, thank you, just the americano.”

her eyebrows jumped in surprise. “oh—i’m sorry,” she returned an understanding smile before removing the drink from his order. “trouble in paradise?”

jungwon handed her the money, a short sigh escaping his lips.

“yeah, something like that.”

the distance left a hollow feeling in his chest. what he was hung up on was why. he could barely sleep, thinking back on the past few weeks to try and pick at the pieces—to understand what had gone wrong with your friendship.

jungwon missed you.

he missed your laugh, the way you always hit him a little too hard when you found something funny (though, he never really complained), your scent, the warm feeling that bloomed in his chest every time you two hung out, the way you always played his favorite music every time you shared headphones—all of it.

he just missed you.

he had decided to go on a date to get his mind off of things. a crazy idea in hindsight, but his friends had eagerly came to him with the proposal, claiming it would ‘make his life more interesting’.

jungwon never really cared about dating. it was never something at the forefront of his mind, or, he just never found anyone all that interesting. he never felt the need to look for something more. after all, he had his friends.

and you.

out of pure boredom and curiosity, he agreed to it. no harm in testing the waters, right?

wrong.

he had never meant to be seen by you of all people.

when you locked eyes with him, his heart stopped. his shoulders tensed and suddenly, he really needed water.

whether to drink or splash on his face—either could work.

he could see the sadness in your eyes from where he sat—could feel it seeping out of you. his heart told him to get out of his seat and walk to you, but his mind.

his mind told him to stay.

you had left him.

why did he have to be the one to chase after you?

why did he have to fix what was broken when he wasn’t the one to break it?

so he stayed.

he turned his attention back to the girl in front of him, giving her a soft smile.

even if he had to pretend.

even if he was hurting you.

you had hurt him first.

and this time, he chose to put himself first.

“why don’t you just talk to him, y/n? you’re torturing yourself—and him too,” mira, one of your best friends, gently stroked your hair as you sniffled into her shoulder.

“he probably hates me. he has a girlfriend now. it would be wrong of me to just… tell him everything after he finally decided to settle down with someone. i can’t do that to him”

“what girlfriend?” heeseung, mira’s boyfriend, asked as he hopped onto the couch beside you. he had been on snack duty all night, his sweet attempt at comforting you.

you wiped at your nose, sitting up properly between the couple. “i saw him, a few days ago. he was with a girl. they held hands and shit. couple-y stuff. they were on a date. he saw me but—” your voice cracked, lip trembling as your brain replayed that day.

“he just.. looked away. like i didn’t exist.” your eyes began to water again.

“god, this is so pathetic! i’m the one that pushed him away but i’m hurting more than he is. do you know how fucking ridiculous that is?” you wanted to laugh. it was cruel how the world worked.

heeseung and mira shared a knowing look before their attention fell back onto you.

“you were scared. love is different, y’know? it isn’t something that comes easily, and you felt it for the first time. being afraid is okay. plus, you’ve dealt with so much shit—i would be more surprised if you didn’t run away the minute you started to catch feelings for him.” heeseung spoke, reaching for another bag of gummies and tearing it open, tilting it towards you.

“but… i won’t lie to you. what you did was fucked up.”

“heeseung!”

“what?! am i wrong? listen, i get it. like i said, you were scared and that’s okay. but you hurt him too, yeah? you might think you’re the only one affected by this, but think about it. he was your best friend. you were his. jungwon isn’t stupid and he isn’t heartless either. he loved you, even if you weren’t sure if it was romantic or not. he loved you and you ran. if i were him, i’d be devastated,” he ended his short speech with a shrug.

you chewed on your lip, staring blankly at the bag of gummies in front of you.

you hated that he was right.

you knew he was right.

what you had done was selfish, and now you were facing the consequences.

“and about that girl, i don’t think they’re even dating. jay set him up with her ‘cause he thought they’d be good together, but i think jungwon told him it didn’t work out. wasn’t his type or some shit. plus, she’s ni-ki’s ex. really weird combination in my opinion. strange. seriously.”

mira let out a snicker at his words, “agreed..”

you sat there, quietly digesting the words heeseung just threw at you.

they weren’t dating.

she was ni-ki’s ex.

jay tried to set her up with jungwon.

yeah, definitely strange.

point of the matter is there’s still a chance.

a chance to fix things before they shattered completely.

“what if he doesn’t want to talk to me?” your voice was barely above a whisper then, the nerves settling into your bones.

heeseung scoffed, “don’t kid yourself. y/n, seriously. this is jungwon we’re talking about. your jungwon. he’ll talk to you. maybe he’s just waiting for you to talk to him first.”

you stared at the contact photo on your phone.

it was a picture of you and jungwon.

you were looking at the camera, but he was looking at you. your smiles were big and genuine, eyes nearly closed from how hard you were grinning. it was one of your favorite pictures. granted, he was supposed to be looking at the camera, but you had taken the photo a little too early from excitement.

your finger hovered over the message button.

you hadn’t opened your chat with him in weeks. the last message he had sent you was left unanswered.

wonie [1:48am] are we okay? :(

you hadn’t built up the courage to respond.

you dropped your phone onto your bed with a resigned sigh, hands rubbing at your face like you could wipe away your shame.

you stared at your ceiling for what felt like hours. you glanced over at the clock on your nightstand.

11:31pm.

it was late, but you couldn’t sleep. not after that conversation with heeseung and mira.

a few minutes passed, and you groaned before grabbing at your phone again. you clicked open his contact, brain working up ideas of what you could possibly say.

y/nie [11:43pm] can we talk?| can w| hey jungw| he| hey| h| hiii|

you rolled over into your pillow, screaming in frustration. why was it so damn hard to text him all of a sudden? it was jungwon. your jungwon. you can talk to jungwon.

except, you had been the worst possible friend ever and then cried about it like you weren’t the one at fault. you sat up on your bed, crossing your legs as you stared at the phone in your lap like it offended you.

then, you heard a ding.

you nearly threw your phone across the room. your hands gripped your phone so tight it could probably snap it in half from sheer force.

wonie [12:01am] hey.. i saw you typing. y/n? i think we should talk

your heart stopped.

had he been waiting?

staring at his unanswered text hoping that you would message him back?

that thought suddenly gave you a surge of confidence. with fast fingers, you began to type out a response.

y/nie [12:03am] yeah we should come over?

you slapped your hand over your face.

“’come over’? are we serious?” you groaned, falling onto your back in pure embarrassment. he texted back almost immediately, letting you know he’d be over in ten minutes.

you shot up from your bed, scrambling for a hoodie that wasn’t the one you were currently wearing.

his.

you scrambled through your closet, digging up whatever jacket you could possibly find. was it a little insane to worry about your outfit when the love of your life was about to come over and have the most serious talk of your entire relationship?

nah.

a knock was heard as you pulled the hood over your head, covering up the mess that was your unbrushed hair. you suddenly felt nervous. the anxiety was creeping back in, hands slightly shaky as you headed to the front door.

you took a deep breath before yanking it open.

there he stood, in a black t-shirt and a pair of old sweatpants. his hair was damp and messy, like he had just gotten out of the shower and didn’t even bother to dry it first.

yet, you thought he had never looked more handsome.

“hey, stranger.”

the words stung a bit more than you thought. you offered a small smile before stepping aside, letting him enter.

the door clicked shut and as if on cue, an awkward silence filled the room.

neither of you knew what to say. you stared at him. the way he swallowed nervously, occasionally drifting his attention to something other than your gaze.

“so… how have y—”

“i’m sorry.”

you cut him off before he could finish his sentence. his head turned towards you, his lips parting in shock.

“i’m sorry for pushing you away. i never wanted to be away from you. i was a coward. i just—i didn’t know how to deal with it. my emotions. my feelings. i got scared. i didn’t want to ruin our friendship or make things weird between us so i—” you paused, trying to find the right words.

“i ran. i ran away before it could get too serious. too real. i didn’t want to mess things up. you’re so important to me, jungwon, and i didn’t want you to be disappointed when you realized how… unworthy i am of you, of your friendship. your love. you do everything for me and—god, i couldn’t even do the bare minimum of just talking to you. i realized how fucking screwed up that is and you probably hate me—”

“y/n.”

“honestly, if you do that's totally okay. i’d hate me too if i just up and left like that without any reasonable explanation. and i know you deserved that much ‘cause you’re my best friend, but at some point i stopped seeing you as that and—”

“y/n.”

“i don’t know when the hell that happened— well, i do but i just ignored it because i thought that was how i was supposed to feel about you since we were close and all. but then i started to miss you and, i mean shit, when i saw you with that girl—”

his hands reached out for you, grabbing at your arms to stop you from rambling. you froze, his eyes boring into yours as you began to register just how close he was to you. he scanned your face, briefly glancing at your lips before returning to your eyes.

“first of all, slow down. second, what feelings are you talking about?”

you felt like the wind had gotten knocked out of you.

your lips opened like they wanted to say something before closing again. you looked like a fish out of water. a deer in the headlights. your brain completely short circuited.

“i want to hear you say it.”

fuck.

“i— i don’t—” you inhaled deeply, trying to gather your thoughts.

“i love you.”

he raised an eyebrow at that, “well, i know that, and i love you too but—”

“no, jungwon. i love you, not as my friend. i love you, like serious, romantic love. i love you. yeah that—that sounds right,” your ears were on fire.

this was humiliating.

you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

you see him freeze up. the gears were turning. he was thinking.

processing.

trying to make sense of the words that had just come out of your mouth.

before you could speak again, your cheek suddenly collided with his chest, pulling a surprised gasp from you. your eyes widened, taking note of the loud thrumming of his heart within his chest.

“you’re an idiot,” he murmured, his own cheek resting against the side of your head.

you blinked.

did he just—

“you ran away from me because you love me?” he pulled back, hands resting on the small of your back as he looked down at you. except, he wasn’t angry.

his expression—it was filled with relief.

“seriously, y/n, i know you have bad luck with boys and all but—ow!” he winced, hand landing on the spot on his forehead you had flicked. “not funny.”

"a little funny."

"no, no not really."

"c'mon! that was good—"

"jungwon."

he sighed, “as i was saying… you could’ve just told me,” his tone was gentle. as if everything you had done to him didn’t matter anymore now that the truth was out.

he was too forgiving.

you didn't know if you deserved it.

“i was scared. i didn’t know if you felt the same or not and i didn’t want to mess up our friendship. you’re everything to me, jungwon. i couldn't lose that. i couldn't lose you.”

"so, you ran."

"okay i didn't really think of the logistics and all, but—"

“you think i have your favorite drink memorized and leave my spare toothbrush in your bathroom because i think of you as my friend?”

you look away, a bright shade pink dusting your cheeks. you could hear the smile in his voice without even having to look, “i love you, y/n. like serious, romantic love, or whatever you called it.”

your head snapped back in his direction, “seriously?”

jungwon laughed—and that sound? you wanted to hear it forever.

“super serious. and maybe i would’ve gotten the chance to say that if you hadn’t avoided me for an entire month,” he had a cheeky smile on his face, teasing you. you groaned, embarrassed, burying your face into his chest. “i get it, i’m an idiot.”

“my idiot, though.”

“doesn’t make it any better.”

he forced you to look up at him, the same smile still evident on his face, “can i kiss you?”

if this was a dream, you seriously didn’t want to wake up.

you didn’t answer. instead, you gently tugged at his shirt, pulling him towards you. the kiss was soft, hesitant, but filled with so much love.

his lips were just as soft as you imagined, paired with the faint taste of his strawberry lip balm that you always saw him put on.

it was addicting.

you pulled away, eyes never leaving his own. his grip tightened around your hips, almost like he was afraid you would disappear the second he let go.

“you have always been enough for me. even if you’re falling apart and you feel like you can’t put yourself back together, i will be there. always. as long as it’s where you are.”

that was all you needed to hear.

you knew, then, that this was right where you needed to be.

you had always run away from love.

this time, you’d hold onto it.

you would let it in, let it bury itself so deep until it filled up every little empty space.

as long as he was with you.

right where you are.

© wrldhoon 2025

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ tags: @keehoes @ilyunjina @yjwluver @won1yoiz @juyeonshour @charlie-studio

[teencopandthesourwolf]

He freezes. Doesn't know what the hell else to do. 

He can't picture it: Derek can't remember the last time somebody put their arms around him. 

Was it Laura?

Of course it was Laura. How could he forget that? Derek has gotten pretty good at blocking things out—a little too good, it seems.

She didn't tell him anything before leaving New York. Didn't say a fucking word, just up and vanished. Derek had woken up one morning and she was gone, because she'd known without a shadow of a doubt that Derek would've only followed her if she'd have said a single word to him.

Nobody ever granted Derek’s wishes, no matter who or what he prayed to. Those desperate pleas where he asked to go back and get a chance to fix things, they all went unheard.

Laura left to go back to the place they both wished still existed just as it had; a place they were wanted alive, not dead. It wasn't fair that it was the very same place they would be hunted down if they did return, like the rabid animals the Argent's presumed they were.

Leaving the way they did meant they hadn't gotten the chance to see if anything was left at the house. They couldn't even mark graves, grieve properly. 

That same place also happened to be the place they'd been born, the place they'd grown up and called home.

Derek had never wanted Laura to face all of that alone.

The burnt down house. The nothing where there was once everything.

The thought still haunts him. One of so many. 

Beacon Hills is home—but it's the home Derek had helped raze to the ground with his selfishness and stupidity. Everything he and Laura had ever known, everyone they'd ever loved, it was all gone, now. Derek had taken those things away from his sister and hadn't even had the guts to tell her. Tell Laura they were all gone because of him. Tell her that everything that had happened to their family, to them, was all his fault.

In the aftermath of the fire Laura hugged Derek, and had kept hugging him, over and over in those weeks and months and years that followed. She would pull him into her arms hold him tight, whenever she could sense it was all getting to be too much for him again.

Alpha.

Big sister.

But Laura only knew about some of the reasons why it sometimes felt like too much effort for Derek to keep on breathing.

He never told her about Kate.

And Derek, the fucking coward, he'd allowed Laura to hold him, feeling the flames of shame on his cheeks every time, hot as those that took the lives of his parents. His family. His pack. 

Now, he remembers that last time. 

“I'm going out.” 

Laura stood up, walked around the two mismatched armchairs, and stopped him by throwing both her arms around his neck, pulling him into her and hugging him. Scenting him. 

It always took him a moment to respond these days, but Derek hugged her back. 

“What's this for?”

“You. Because I know whomever's bed you end up in tonight, you won't be asking for one of these.”

Oh, fuck no.

Derek couldn't handle that. Did she think he was out sleeping with people? He couldn't, not after…

He gently pushed his sister off him; a stark contrast to his harsh words that followed. 

“Don't fucking coddle me. And fuck you, Laura—I don't sleep in anybody's bed but my own.” Derek had so many shameful memories, and crawling into his sister's bed every night for the first year after the fire was one of them. “Just—leave me the fuck alone.”

Laura was the one—the only—person Derek had left in the entire world, yet his shame and guilt were constantly pushing her away. 

“You're not clinging to me anymore, nightmare to nightmare, but you're rarely in your own bed most mornings, little brother. Where do you go to every night?”

She hadn't meant it as a dig. Derek knew that. She was his sister, and she loved him.

Maybe she thought he was making progress? Seeing people. Moving on.

Derek spent his nights waiting outside of dive bars and hanging around in back alleys and dark places, desperate to find scumbags to taunt who were big enough and hard enough to at least attempt to kick the living shit out of him.

Derek hated being a werewolf, now. He wanted to get hurt and stay hurt.

“Just—out.”

Derek turned his back on Laura, leaving her to stand there and watch him walk away as he left her to go out looking for a fight, without looking back. 

That was the last time somebody put their arms around Derek—and the last time he saw his sister alive.

It was two years ago. Derek doesn’t think he has taken a full breath, since. 

Now here he is—standing in his stupid big loft that he bought for his betas who just turned out to be yet another pack he managed to destroy—having given away more than he should, skinny yet strong arms wrapping as far around his shoulders as they'll reach. 

Stiles.

“You don't have to hug back. But you can, if you want to. I won't tell,” the kid jokes. It's his way to connect. His connection to the world. A coping mechanism, Derek thinks.

He knows all about those.

“I…” he doesn't have the first fucking clue of how to handle this. Or how to admit he needs it—to himself, let alone somebody else. He doesn't know how to admit that he wants it. 

But this is Stiles. The one person in Derek's life who seems, for some unfathomable reason, to give a fuck about Derek. To care about him.

Slowly, very slowly, Derek lifts an arm and awkwardly rests a hand on Stiles's upper back. Feels the muscles jump slightly under the kid's layers of baggy clothes as he tentatively spreads his fingers and finds the back of Stiles's neck. 

Stiles's voice hitches just a touch as he says, “These can be on tap, you know. If you want them. Stilinski hugs are the best hugs, dude. Believe.”

And Derek finds he does believe. For the first time in forever, he believes there could be something good in his life again.

More confidently, now, he brings his other arm up to wrap around Stiles's waist and hugs Stiles tighter, properly. Allows himself to be hugged back.

Derek wonders how he has gone so long without this kind of closeness. Lived without this kindness.

He decides to let the 'dude' pass. Maybe—maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, to be somebody's dude? 

Stiles's dude.

It's a fucking ridiculous moniker and yet Derek suddenly couldn't care less. 

“I think I'd like that,” he whispers into the forbidden place where Stiles's jaw meets long, pale neck. "Dude."

He can feel Stiles's smile as the kid squeezes him harder. And ironically, Derek feels as though he can breathe again. 

.

for @greyhavenisback bc i want to hug you in person and can't <3

[rabbit-piece]

Imagine being the Whitebeards in one of those Straw Hat Time Travel Fix Its. Imagine the Whitebeards finding out about the Straw Hat Time Travel Fix It.

You were betrayed by somebody you loved and trusted -- a sworn brother, a friend, a senior member of your crew. Your sibling. Your son, and he murdered another member of your family in cold blood, for power.

Someone else you loved and trusted ran off to seek vengeance on all of your behalf, even though you all told him not to, and you didn't actually try all that hard to stop him because he was carrying all of your rage and grief and betrayal with him. Ace may have taken that mission solo, but he was not alone. Your family's shared wrath nipped at his every step, urged him onward. It's your fault as much as anyone else's.

Ace fails his quest. Ace is captured. You go to war to save him, and you fail. You limp off the battlefield with less family than you had when you entered it, and leave the fallen where they lay. You don't even have time to lick your wounds, because over the next two years that first bastard who stabbed you all in the back makes a game of hunting you down, one by one, until there's no one fucking left.

Everything you built together is destroyed. In the end, there's only one man standing.

Except... that didn't happen.

Absolutely none of that happened.

Maybe Thatch still dies, and maybe Whitebeard does, too, depending on exactly how the Straw Hats have gone about fixing all this. But Ace doesn't. And because Ace doesn't, the rest of you live, too. Your family is not hunted. You don't need to put your grief on a shelf to focus on grasping at survival as it slips through your fingers. Marco never needs to stand alone on Sphynx and wonder how it all went so wrong so fast. You live. Your family, and the dreams you share, and the life you've built together -- when the dust settles it's all still standing.

Not because of anything you did. Not because you sniffed out the traitor before he could break everything you built. Not because you were strong enough to defeat the navy, or because you were resilient enough to withstand Blackbeard. Not because any of you were clever enough or tenacious enough or adamant enough to break time itself to regain what you'd lost. No, not because of you. Not even for you.

Just for Ace. Just because Ace's little brother loved him very, very much. You were saved as a consequence, by proxy, but you were not the goal. Only Ace was.

You have skirted disaster. You have survived your rightful death. You do not deserve any of the gifts you've been given -- and in fact all of those gifts are scraps from someone else's table. And now you're being asked to make peace with that.

[exactlyyoungchaos]

Loss of my life.

(ex) husband Simon X f!Reader

Part 2.

CW: divorce, hurt, angst, mentions of emotional cheating, trauma. let me know if I missed any, enjoy!!!!

(Don't mind the mistakes.)

If you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary

You and I go from one kiss to gettin married

Still alive, killing time at the cemetery

Nobody prepares you for something like this. What do you do when someone you loved more than your own life, rips apart your soul in pieces? What do you do when the one person you trusted your heart with, leaves you to gather scraps of whatever is left of it?

It's been months since that day. The day you found out that the man you love loved someone else. You moved out the next day, he didn't try and stop you, didn't try to argue or make you stay, he just stood in the corner and watched as you packed up your whole life in a suitcase and left.

When your lawyer served him divorce papers, he didn't hesitate. he signed it immediately as if he was trying to get rid of you, or maybe he was. you don't know, you don't know anything anymore.

When you were young, you were scared to be in relationships because the idea of trusting somebody with everything and giving them the power to hurt you was ridiculous. you always thought love was a sham, just something for romance books and movies.

it was when you met Simon you realized it was all real. the chemical reaction inside your brain that makes you want to stay with someone forever. Laughing at their stupid jokes, waking up next to them, love them was all real. Or maybe it wasn't.

now all you recall, was how you almost had it all. how it all just slipped from your hands without warning.

maybe it was your fault. maybe you weren't enough. maybe you didn't know how to love properly, maybe you were unlovable.

maybe, maybe, maybe.......

Or perhaps it was a sign that a prophecy in your name had already been written. you are not meant for love, you were sent here to be alone, to be betrayed by whoever you trust, to be unworthy. so others would know what not to be.

You sat on the bed of your new apartment, looking at your wedding ring that was still on your finger. you couldn't get yourself to take it off. your heart wasn't ready to accept what your brain already knew.

You couldn't cry anymore, your tears were gone, and all that was left was a deep ache of loss in your chest.

Why? Why did he do this to you? why did he make those vows when he never meant to keep them? you wanted answers, that you knew you'd never get.

If your parents saw you in this state, they would be ashamed of you. you're ashamed of yourself. you can't eat, you can't get out of your bed, because something counterfeits dead.

The house you once called home is haunted by the ghost of lies and deceit. How long has it been going on? how many times did you lay with him in your bed and he wished it was her instead of you?

You were driving yourself crazy. Day by day you were losing your sanity as you combed through your whole life trying to find where it all went wrong.

you've been getting calls from your friends, and messages that you keep ignoring. What were you going to tell them? They bought his lies too.

He said forever and you bought it.

And the worst part is, you miss him. You miss your life, how it used to be filled with laughter, love, and light with him. How he used to hold you when you broke down. How he caressed you when you were in pain, how he made love to you.

Now you're sitting in a cold, dark, and empty apartment on another continent, you don't know who to call and ask for help.

All of your things remind you of him. Do you throw all of the things you built together or keep it? you were tired, mending your gashes on your own. He dealt a final blow and left you to deal with it.

And he doesn't care. He's already with her. he already replaced you. Nothing you two had was real.

But then why do you feel like dying? Why was it that you can't feel anything anymore? Is this how it will always be? Will you ever be okay enough to want to live?

all of these were very big questions you weren't ready to ask yet, or maybe you never will be.

you needed a distraction and you needed it fast.

you picked up your phone for the first time in the day and went straight to the one person you knew who could give you a reprieve from yourself.

Laswell.

You felt numb as you dialed her number as if a switch had been turned off in your brain. She picked up on the third ring.

"Sparrow,"

She still called you by your code name. Your first team that you were assigned to as a rookie medic gave it to you.

"I need a job," is all you said.

AN: SOOOOO!! DID WE LIKE IT? THOTS? I might have shed a tear or two writing this. don't mind me.

@ssc7514 @rrtxcmt

If you want to be tagged in the next part do tell me.

Until next time sugarplums.

ALI-💋💋💋

[tenjikyu]

𝘝𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦 - 𝘓𝘢𝘶𝘧𝘦𝘺

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ Final timeline , valentines special , gn!reader , reader actually likes Valentine’s Day instead of despising it , reader is apart of the student council , delinquent/school council troupe , idk how many members black dragon had but ik the gang was HUGE so I went w 650 , izana knows he isn’t biologically related to the others for plot convenience , idk how old the kids are so Emma is four, mikey is five and izana is seven.

School was always boring, however the only time you found pleasure in attending your mundane school was during Valentine’s Day.

Girls gushing over the chocolates they’re either giving or receiving, and guys flushed from sudden confessions and giving flowers to their lucky lady.

The air in school seemed more lively with the coming of Valentine’s Day.

You were yet to acquire a partner to share this special event with, however that never bothered you too much. You were a fairly popular face around school, and had your fair share of admires (girls and guys alike).

However you were in no rush to run into a relationship. Your status as vice president of the student council already filled your schedule enough as is, and having some dense and clingy person begging for you attention wasn’t ideal.

And so, you smiled gently as you watched your student council friend get a batch of roses from her crush, hoping the very best for her.

Shinichiro, unlike yourself, was rather desperate to acquire somebody to love. Ever since middle school, he’d trail a pretty girl in the halls and ask if she was interested in going to grab a bite to eat.

And the response was almost the same with every girl.

“Sorry, Sano. I probably shouldn’t go out with a delinquent.” “Sorry Sano, I’m not interested right now” “Sano, please leave me alone this is the 3rd time”

As highschool came and past by, Sano had asked out a total of 16 girls and 7 guys before he eventually gave up. Maybe he just wasn’t meant to find his special someone?

It was in his 2nd year of high school before Shinichiro Sano would end up finding somebody to share his obligatory chocolates with.

It was a day like no other, however instead of pure oxygen, something else seemed to fill the air.

Love.

Couples and pre-couples littered the school. Girls flattened out their skirts and boys fixed their hair in anticipation.

You had decided that you’d come a bit earlier today, as you had some papers you had to finish off before class began. It’s not your fault your mother couldn’t pick up your little sister today, even though she had started middle school already.

“Little girls Like Keiko shouldn’t walk home alone, be a good older brother/sister and walk her home.”

Your mothers was just a liiiiitttttleeee over protective.

Only the sound of motorcycles pulled you from your daze as you stared at the entrance of the school. The bikes wernt an uncommon sound, after all.

The Black Dragons are infamous around school, known for their mischievous yet respected leader. Shinichiro was a celebrity amongst delinquents, a shining star for all to follow. The North Star of the sky, as one could say. He caused trouble, yet always cleaned up after himself. He has bad luck with women, however has been known to defend and fight for girls he’s never even met before.

In the eyes of many, he was a dumb and irresponsible boy who led more men than he could handle (650, to be specific). In your eyes however, he was a good man. Sure he got into trouble and messed around with his friends, but he never once laid a hand on someone who didn’t deserve it.

As the man of the hour walked up to the school, his 3 lackys in tow, he walked past you, a gentle smile plastered on his face.

Perhaps, he could be smiling at you?

As you left the council room, you felt a hand on your shoulder. Looking back, you see the hair of Shinichiro’s closest friend, Wakasa Imaushi.

“Hey, got a minute?” The blonde asked you, his eyes gazing your confused expression. You only silently nod, before following the gang leader to your possible doom.

As you walk through the halls of your school, you ponder to yourself silently. What could a delinquent want with the vice president of the student council?

Alas, you eventually come to a halt, you walk into the room, Wakasa holding the door for you like a gentleman. As you enter the room, an interesting sight beholds you.

Shinichiro is sat on a chair, his other two friends are leaning side by side. He would almost look like a king, if it wasn’t for his dopey expression that rested on his face.

“(Y/N) perfect timing! I have something to ask you.”

HUH???

You aren’t entirely sure why your mind went to the certain romantic event being held today, however the clear expression of shock on your face is enough to have Shinichiro put your mind at ease.

“I’m not asking about valentines, you can relax vice prez. I wanted to ask you about your sister.” He begins, his voice getting slightly more serious.

“Why? Has something happened to Keiko that I don’t know about?” You ask him, wondering that if you were correct, how did he know before you?

“She’s adopted, correct? How did that settle for your family.” He seems serious now, but not his scary and gang leader mode scary.

He’s never allow his crush to see him in such a state.

“Yes, she is adopted. We took her in 3 years ago. Why do you ask?”

“Well, there’s a kid my family had taken in from the orphanage recently. He’s a little older than my other two, and he’s not fully Japanese. I’m worried Izana might feel a bit excluded, given he isn’t related to Manjiro and Emma. I was wondering if you had some advice to give me, so I can discuss this with him without him getting uncomfortable or scared.”

You can’t tell if you’re more shocked about the fact Shinichiro Sano told you a very sensitive fact about his home life, or about the fact he’s taken in another sibling. You’re well aware of the other two.

But he came to you for assistance, and no matter what kind of student they are, it’s your job as vice president to help all students out.

“Well, if you wanted, I could bring Keiko around to talk to him about it? He might feel more comfortable talking to a child with similar experiences to him.”

“REALLY?? That would be AWSOME, (Y/N)!”

And so, you picked Keiko up from school and visited the Sano estate. It wasn’t too far from where you live, maybe a 5-10 minute walk, however the second you opened the door…

“MIKEY LEAVE HER ALONE”

“ITS A DOLL NOT A REAL GIRL SHIN”

A boy with blonde hair, no older then six, is standing on the couch whilst a little girl is sobbing in an attempt to get her doll back. Shinichiro is yelling from the top of his lungs at his brother, but isn’t currently in the main room.

“Uhmm… bad timing?” You peeped out, your little sister shuffling behind you. At once, three pairs of eyes land on you. Then, a fourth pair peep from behind a door. Two lilac iris’ stare into your own.

“Wow, a boy/girl” Manjiro says, taken aback by your presence in the house. Emma only looks at you with excitement in her eyes, seemingly noticing the presence of your sister in the house.

“SHIT! Sorry (Y/N) I completely forgot you were coming over today, please make yourselves at home. Emma, Mikey, BEST behaviour around our guests.”

Shinichiro orders his siblings in an endearing manner. It’s like his gang mode has a switch, and his usual personality shines through the curtains.

He’s such a sweet brother

Introducing yourself to the two gremlins, you eventually make your way to the boy of the hour, who was still watching you intently. You bend down to his height and take his little hands in your own.

“Hello, Izana. It’s lovley to meet you. I’ve brought my sister here to talk to you, wanna give it a shot?” His little head nods curiously, before you guide your sister over. Shinichiro orders everyone out of the living room, in favour of giving the two a comfortable atmosphere to discuss in.

Keiko was a bit older then Izana, with him only being seven whilst your sister was turning eleven this year, however you knew that they would click pretty quickly.

You offer to help make cookies for everyone to share, and with excitement in their eyes, the three sano siblings all eagerly get to work on making the perfect batch of chocolate chip cookies.

You and Keiko became a common sight at the Sano family house, with Izana becoming rather attached to your little sister. Itching at the oppourtunity, Keiko immediately took on her big sister role, and takes Izana out weekly to the park to play.

You find yourself talking to Shinichiro more, and in turn, he ends up coming to school slightly more often. The two of you are a SHOCK to the school, with most assuming the two of you would have it out for eachother. You helped him study, and in turn he made sure you had upmost protection when walking around at night.

You started attending his gang meetings as his honoured guest, and it was made known to the entirety of Black Dragons that you were of UPMOST priority. When you’re in the presence of the gang, not a scratch should lay on your skin, otherwise hell would be waiting.

You loved visiting his family, and his family loved you. Keiko would sometimes come too, for Izana, but it was often just you after school. You made sweets with them, cooked with them, helped them with schoolwork. You went to the arcade with them and even invited the three kids to go to the amusement park with your sister (mainly so you and shinichiro could go hang out together).

And just like that, a year had passed and it was valentines once more.

Love was, once again, floating around in the air. This year though, you had someone you desperately wanted to spend it with.

Shinichiro Sano.

School was nothing interesting. Well, I wish I could say that, however it WAS interesting.

BANG!!

The door to your classroom swings open with a hard hit, and the Shinichiro three lackys come tumbling in, dressed in their formal uniform.

“(Y/N), Let’s ride for a bit, Shin is waiting for us out the gate.” Takeomi grumbles, a knowing smirk on his face. All eyes were on the four of you.

“Boys, I can’t just miss class like you three, I actually have to graduATEEEEE-” lifted from your seat in courtesy of Keizo, you squeal as they abduct you from your learning. Hearing the commotion in the halls, many student come to watch what was going on.

By the time you four had made it to the gates, you had the entire school (including faculty bc let’s be real, they’re INVESTED) watching you.

The student council vice president with the Black Dragons??

Gently placed down, you notice Shinichiro standing tall and proud in his gang uniform. Then you finally see it. The ENTIRETY of the Black Dragon was standing behind him, all standing tall. Looking behind you, you notice his top three standing respectfully, as to not have their back towards their leader.

Nervously, you you walk towards the gang leader.

He meets you half way, and approaches you, a gentle smile on his face whilst still remaining proud.

He truly is mesmerising when he gets serious.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry for having your classes interrupted like this, but I thought “hey, why not invite the whole school watch me get rejected once more.”

HUH??

“Shinichiro, are you-” you’re cut off with the boy handing you a bouquet of roses, glitter shimmering on top of the petals. You’re then met with two men in uniform approaching you, a life sized teddy bear in their arms. Its fur is white with a red bow around its neck. It was massive.

And finally, Wakasa brings out a box of expensive chocolates. They look delicious.

And a slight tear is brought to your eyes.

“(Y/N), be my Valentine?”

[supernova41st]

Can I request tf2 mercs with a reader who honestly looks really sweet and nice, but they're actually really blunt and rude like every time they open their mouth it's just "YOU #### ILL ### YOUR ### UNTIL YOU ######!!!"

Sweet n’ Sour 🎀

Mercs x “nice”! Reader

(pt.2)

A/n: MWAH I LOVE THIS IDEA SM. Rn I’m planning to make a fic of my own after this then I’ll be doing more requests afterwards so please be sure to suggests something I may do!!

Warnings: Harsh insults, Suggestive, Patronizing

Scout

Somebody warn him before he does some stupid shit like asking you out

At first he saw you as some ditzy babe he can pull unlike how classy Ms Pauling was, so he didn’t go to spy for you

I mean he still would’ve gotten his ass handed to him if he went to spy

“Sup princess, was wondering if you’d let me pop a soda with you and maybe you’d let me pop something else” lip bite

“..can you pop that giant disgusting pimple on your forehead instead??”

he ran to his room and began to cry, spy had some questions

“…what did you do? What did you say to him?”

“Omfg, what are you his dad? Jesus it hasn’t even been a week here and I’m already so fuckin tired of these guys god it’s like middle school all over again”

You just rambled on how annoyed you were

Oh yeah, he did pop that pimple eventually

Scout (like the child he is) went to spy because he genuinely wanted to know what he did wrong, like seriously wanted to know

“And then she friggin’ told me I had a gross pimple on my face and none of it wasn’t my fault!! I mean-seriously do chics just decide to be bitchy whenever they want?”

“Scout. You went up to a woman, a real woman, patronized her, and what? You thought she was going to suddenly want to be your ‘babe’ as you call it?”

“…okay I see how she could’ve took it the wrong way, BUT”

Spy smacked the shit out of him lol

He was so scared of you even if you did fight alongside him, he was scared you were gonna chew him up again the way you did before.

At the same time it did get him pretty hard to see you out there, something about you yelling at enemies swearing to kill them and their families just got him going

“CANT SNEAK AWAY FROM THIS AK MOTHERFUCKER”

“Uhh, I need to go take a dump or sumthin’ like dat”

He always thought about asking you out but the way you responded to his attempt at hooking up with you was enough to make hide his feelings

But you definitely weren’t one to hide yours, you quickly recognized that his dumbassery turned your laced panties into a slip n’ slide. So of course you went up to him asking to go out

“Hey Jeremy, I saw you out there bashing that heavy’s head in like it was nothing. You looked cute”

“Oh, y-yeah I mean pfft it’s what I do I mean it’s nothing special unless you think it’s sumthin’ special which I totally agree with you if you think it’s cool-“

“Shh- how about when we go back to the base I help you with some new techniques and you show me some of yours?”

Scout didn’t know if that was a metaphor for sex or if he was going to get his ass destroyed by you, but either way the answer was gonna be yes

Medic

When you first joined the team he never really expressed that he thought you wouldn’t be a good edition to the team

It only ever showed while on a mission, he’d almost never Uber you because he thought of you as weak

The first time he really interacted with you was in the battlefield he kept on using his syringe gun instead of healing the the team

You got so frustrated with him and just had to say something

“MEDIC PUT THE FUCKING GUN AWAY AND UBER HEAVY YOU FOUR-EYE BITCH” you screamed, slapping his gun way and shaking his collar

He blushed at the sight of you snapping at him, so unexpected yet so.. hot

“Oh, ja.. of course ♡”

The love in this man’s eyes compared to the hate in yours was astonishing, of course he immediately went to go do what you told him, all for you and only you

As soon as the match finished he couldn’t stop thinking about how much fury you had, he was definitely going to pocket you in the next match

It was so exciting to see you, so beautiful, yet so aggressive on the field

He’s always calming you whenever you get angry, basically this photo

We all know Medic likes to be a bit messy himself with his bonesaw, you hate it when he gets messy around you

“Ugh!! Medic! You got blood on my skirt, do we need to get your ass another pair of glasses??”

“Now now, I itz nothing to worry about my love. I know my vway around a blood stain!”

“Okay,, but if this thing is still on here by then you’re buying me another.”

He enjoys watching you get ready in your pretty outfits and makeup. Medic is well maintenance but it doesn’t compare to how long it takes for you to get ready

You defending him is his fav thing ever, he never shows it a lot but he loves it when you cuss out mercs who think they aren’t getting enough healing

“SCOUT YOU PEICE OF SHIT STOP RUNNING AWAY FROM MEDIC IF YOU WANT HEALING!!”

“Aww, y/n ☺️”

No but you guys are so cute, esp when he Ubering you

He’s always cheering you on as you tear the enemy team apart

“You’re doing well my perle!!”

“Thanks my love! WHO WANTS THEIR BALLS CRUSHED”

Soldier

As soon soldier saw you he was kinda annoyed in a way? He didn’t want to kick you out or anything but he did want you to prove yourself to him, he wasn’t just gonna let a wuss fight alongside him

He once tried to push you to your limit by making you do some exercise but nothing could’ve prepared him for how you were gonna respond

“DROP DOWN AND GIVE ME 40 CUPCAKE”

“Uh-uh I KNOW ur not talking to me bitch”

“DID I STUTTER?”

“DID I STUTTER?? DONT YOU HAVE LIKE AN EAGLE TO WALK OR SOMETHING? GO SHOVE A ROCKET UP YOUR ASS”

You continued to give him the death stare, but soldier just stood there

You guys made out hard, right there and then. He just couldn’t resist, we all know how he feels about strong ladies

After that the All-American Soldier we once knew turned into a loverboy, he lives and breathes to love you

But since soldier has the lowest IQ out of all of the mercs he tends to get you on your nerves a lot

“Soldier, sweetie!! Why are we dying so much what’s the biggie? 😚”

“APOLOGIES CUPCAKE, BUT IT APPEARS I HAVE KILLED ANOTHER SOLDIER. AND IN THE GREAT NAME OF LADY LIBERTY, I MUST BURY IT IN HER HONOR.”

“SOLDIER GET YOUR ASS ON THE POINT RIGHT FUCKING NOW.”

“..copy that”

He always straightens his back every time he’s in your presence, he always wants to show how tough he is and that he respects you

The team gets so overstimulated whenever you two are on the same mission, especially Spy. It always ends with him getting a headache

He’ll try to get you cute gifts, but sometimes what Soldier considers ‘cute’ can be um

“Yehhehehe, SWEETHEART, I HAVE A SUPRIIISE”

“Is it another ear necklace? Soldier I told you to stop giving me those they’re gross..”

“NEGATIVE!”

“sigh Finally, what is it?”

“A BOW MADE OUT OF MY TISSUE. DOCTOR HELPED ME MAKE IT.”

“..okay what the fuck are you on like-what medicine do you take??”

For the most part soldier means no harm, he just wants to love you. Even if it means giving you jewelry made out of the flesh of his enemies <33

[natsvenom]

Drunken Kisses (angst-ish)

SUMMARY: You, Spencer and Jason had given a bracelet to the police you thought would help link Garret to Alison’s murder the previous day. Today you heard from Spencer that the blood on the bracelet wasn’t Garret’s and his name was cleared. You had a little school girl crush on him back when Ali was alive, not that he even knew you existed. But after Ali went missing, his family left Rosewood. Now that he was back, he was a completely different person and you found yourself falling even harder. You guys have gotten fairly close since he’s been back, but nothing ever came of it.

WARNINGS: age gap, drunk driving, mentions of murder, angst, etc.

Jason DiLaurentis x GN!reader

The bell signaling it was the end of the day rang, and you and Spencer were walking out of AP History together. You and the other liars were all best friends, but Spencer was really the one who got you the best. That’s why you could tell something was up with her, the way her lips had been frozen in a straight line the entire day.

“Spence, what’s on your mind?” You asked, having wondered that question all day.

Spencer sighed, “I just feel horrible, I was the one who told Jason about the bracelet and now Garrett is out of prison because of it. I should’ve never dragged him into this.” Spencer explained sadly.

“Hey, this is not your fault. Okay? You had no idea that bracelet would free Garrett. You were just trying to help.” You assured her. You knew Spencer wasn’t in the blame for this, you just hoped she would see that too.

“Yeah, but all I ended up doing ruining things.” Spencer mumbled, her lips forming into a small frown. You put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

As you walked out of the school you saw Jason running around the block. You noticed the way his hair stuck to his forehead from sweating. You couldn’t but notice how good he looked.

“Jason.” Spencer called out. She walked over to him and you followed closely behind her.

“Hey.” He greeted the both of you, “What’s up?”

“I, uh, heard you were gonna be on the basketball courts.” Spencer stated, pointing in the direction they were in.

“Yeah, I was.” He informed, “Pulled myself out of the game.”

“Why?” You asked softly.

“Figured I’d hurt less people running around the block.” He clarified. You looked at him sympathetically. You didn’t exactly have any words that could comfort him in a moment like this, but you would try your best to let him know you were there for him.

“Right. Well that answers my next question.” Spencer says, looking down at her feet.

“Which was?”

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks, her voice genuine. Jason doesn’t say anything, he just looks down at the ground in disappointment.

“I’m so sorry I dragged you into this.” Spencer apologizes, the guilt written all over her face.

“It’s not your fault, Spencer.” He assures, “You didn’t make me walk into that police station.”

“I know, but I thought that—”

“I know. That this piece of jewelry would have ended this. But it didn’t, alright?” He interjected, “Now, instead of being the big hero, I’m back to being the big screw-up.”

“Jason, nobody thinks that.” At least, you didn’t think that. The one thing he never gave up on was trying to find out what happened to his sister, and you admired him for that. You wished he could see what you did sometimes.

“Really? Maybe I should let you pick my father up from the airport.” He objected, his voice filled with frustration. You looked at him sadly, you felt guilty for not being of more help but you knew there wasn’t anything you could do.

“Do your parents think that Garrett is still gulity?” Spencer wondered, “Or do they think that now it’s somebody else?”

“I don’t know what they think. Never have.” He uttered.

“Well what do you think?” You asked.

“I think that I’m done looking for answers around here, that’s what I think. I’m not a detective, and I’m not a lawyer.” He sighed, rubbing his temple.

“Hey, we, uh, met Cece Drake this morning.” Spencer revealed, trying to change the subject. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to swallow back the emotions you felt coming up from your chest. You knew Cece was his ex and the conversation you’d had with her at the grill made it seem like she was still interested in him. And you wouldn’t blame him if he ever went back to her, she was gorgeous. And it wasn’t like you had a chance with him anyways.

“Did you know that she’s back in town?” Spencer questioned.

“I heard.” Jason nodded his head, looking unphased by the information.

“We didn’t even know that she and Ali were friends.” Spencer explained, “She said that you guys spent an intense summer together.” You could only imagine what she had meant by ‘intense’ and you didn’t really like the idea of it.

“Everything with Cece’s intense.” Jason told them.

“Did it end on a bad note?” Spencer pried.

Jason’s answer was vague, “You could say that.” He muttered. This was a converstaion you chose to stay out of. You knew you were a good liar, but lying to Jason was different. It wasn’t as easy as lying to your family or even your friends. Somehow he always saw right through you, like you were a book waiting to be opened.

“Look, I got to, uh, get home and take a shower.” He said, “I’m gonna be late for his plane.”

“Okay.” Spencer mumbled.

“Bye Jason.” You spoke one last time before he walked away. He sent you a half-hearted smile before continuing his run back down the block.

You and Spencer decided you both desperately needed something to eat, so you went to a little cafe just a block away from the school. You talked for a little about everything going on, and then shortly after Hanna met up with you guys.

“You can’t just block a court order in an afternoon. She needs time.” Spencer said on the phone, but hung up as soon as she saw Hanna walking over to the table.

“But she’ll do it?” Hanna asked, worriedly.

“She’s gonna try.” Spencer promised.

“Try?” Hanna quaked.

“It’s my mom. With her a try is as good as a win.” Spencer assured her.

“Did Aria get in to see Mona?” Spencer asked the blonde.

“I haven’t heard anything yet.” Hanna shrugged. You saw Hanna look over behind your shoulder. You turned your head to see Jason and Mr. DiLaurentis getting out of the car.

“When did Alison’s father get back to Rosewood?” Hanna questioned.

“Today.” You responded, “Do you want me to talk to him?” You asked. Hanna had previously told you about the incident with her and Mr. DiLaurentis. Hanna had told Ali’s mom that she was still alive. Hanna had claimed she saw Alison one day and then she showed up dead the next, making Mr. DiLaurentis completely go off on Hanna.

“Well, maybe you should, Han.” You said, “You’re believing everything that Wilden says. Why don’t you find out yourself?” Now that Garrett was free, Hanna was suspect runner up. Wilden had claimed the blood found on Alison’s bracelet was the same blood type as Hanna’s.

“Cause I can’t.” She objected, “And you know what. You’re right, Spence. Your moms on it so I have nothing to worry about.”

You, Hanna and Spencer sat in silence for a while, until Hanna saw Mr. DiLaurentis coming back out of the building he had previously gone in to. You watched as she made up her mind, she walked over to Mr. DiLaurentis and began a conversation.

You bit at the straw of your drink, anticipating the outcome. “This can go one way… or it can go the complete opposite.” You mumbled, looking to your friend worriedly. Luckily, no scene broke out, Mr. DiLaurentis just got in his car and drove off. You sighed, sinking back into your chair.

It was officially late outside and you and Spencer needed a sleep over. With everything going on, all you wanted to do was cuddle up in bed and watch some sort of romantic film to ease your minds. The car ride was silent as you leaned your head against the cool window. You snapped out of your short state of peace as a car reved it’s engine behind you, you looked through the back window, only for the car to speed right past you, blaring music on full volume. You couldn’t help but notice the side of the car said, “DiLaurentis.”

“Jason.” You said aloud. You and Spencer looked to each other in panic just as the sound of a crash rang through your ears, “Oh my god!” You gasped. Spencer sped up, pulling up behind him. You rushed out of the car as fast as your feet would take you and you looked at him through the open window. He looked miserable.

You open the car door, assessing him for any injuries,”Jase, are you okay?” You ask worriedly. He didn’t say anything, he looked completely dissociated, “Are you drunk?” You questioned. Again, he said nothing. He attempted to get out of the car but you pushed him by his chest so he was back in the drivers seat.

“Stop it! The police, are gonna be here any minute, okay?” You scolded.

“Maybe they’ll lock me up with Garrett. Finally get some justice.” He muttered, angrily.

You sighed frustratedly, “Just move over.” You said.

“What—”

“Jason, just move over!” You snapped.

He was taken back for a moment, “Why?” He asked.

“Because this never happened.” You spoke softly this time. He finally obliged, moving over to the passengers seat. You were about to get in the driver’s seat when Spencer grabbed your arm.

“You don’t have to be the one to do it, it’s my fault he’s in this place anyways.” Spencer said, feeling bad for her friend cleaning up her mess.

“Spence, none of this is your fault. You didn’t ask for any of this. I’ll get him home. Besides, you need to get your own car out of here.” You said, assuring her it was okay.

She pulled you into a hug, “Thank you.” She said, before rushing over to her car and leaving the scene. You sighed, getting into the driver’s seat. You knew you couldn’t take him to his house, you knew that would just give his father another reason to jump down his throat, so you decided to take him to your house. Your family wouldn’t be home so it was the safest option for him.

When you got home, you managed to get Jason out of the car. He was stumbling all over the place, he clearly had drank more than needed. He stopped, and sat down on your porch, leaning his head against the wall. You looked at him simpathetically as you sat down next to him.

“Why the hell would you do that?” You fumed. You understood he was hurting but the way he basically stepped into the arms of death scared the hell out of you.

He turned to face you with a glare, “Do what? Give up? You know what, I’m tired of everyone treating me like I’m clueless.” He snapped back. He was angry, you got that loud and clear. He tried standing up but you grabbed ahold of his arm, pulling him back down.

“Well you’re acting like you are! Jason, I don’t even think you realize how stupid you were tonight. You could’ve died! You scared the absolute hell out of me!” You scolded him. Even if you weren’t together, you wouldn’t want to lose him either way. You considered him one of your best friends.

“God, you sound like my mother.” He muttered, rolling his eyes at you, “You know what? I don’t need your help. I don’t even know why your making a big deal out of this anyways.”

“Because I care about you!” You snapped, standing up from your spot abruptly. His eyes softened at your words. He didn’t understand how you could care about him, so he questioned it.

“Well you shouldn’t. I’m not worth it. My dads made that perfectly clear that he lost the wrong kid.” He sighed, putting his head in his hands.

“Jason, don’t listen to your dad. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, okay?” You said softly this time, sitting back down next to him, “If anything, he’s the one who’s not worth it. Jason, your a great person. You care about people, whether you like to admit it or not. And you’re smart and patient and you keep putting everyone else before yourself. Do you even realize how much you’ve done for me? After everything that happened with Mona and my family, you were always the one who was there for me. I don’t think I would be where I’m at now if I didn’t have you in my life. So don’t say it should’ve been you and not Ali because I don’t think I would ever recover from that. You deserved to have a better father, but he doesn’t deserve a son like you.” You may have went a little overboard, but you needed him to know that you cared.

Jason didn’t say anything, he just looked completely surprised at your words. Nobody has ever said anything like that to him before, and hearing it come from you was something else entirely. He stared at you with a million emotions running through his eyes. Maybe that was why he couldn’t stop himself from what happened next.

Before you knew it his lips were on yours. It was a hungry kiss, desperate for something he’d been longing for forever. His hands were on your face, pulling you as close as he possibly could. You could taste the alcohol from his mouth, reminding you he was still drunk. You pulled away from the kiss hesitantly and he moved closer to you, not wanting the moment to end.

“Jason, you’re drunk.” You reminded him. As much as you’ve been waiting for that to happen, it wasn’t the right time.

“So?” He breathed out.

“So, you’ll probably regret this in the morning.” You sighed, feeling guilty. You felt like you had taken advantage of him in his drunken state.

“How could I ever regret you?” He questioned, his eyes not leaving you for even a second.

You stood up from the porch, “It’s late and you need lots of sleep and lots of water and in the morning your definitely going to need lots of asprin.” You remarked, brushing off the little bit of sediment from your pants.

You took the key from your pocket and opened the door, Jason stumbled in shortly after. You had absolutely no idea how you were going to him up the stairs. You let him put his arm around your waist, minimizing the amount of times he stumbled up the stairs.

You took him to your room, setting him on your bed. You could see how exhausted and disappointed in himself he looked. He let himself slip up, he had been sober for so long and all he could think was that this was another thing he screwed up.

You could see the tears in his eyes, the ones he wouldn’t let fall. You pushed the hair that was sticking to his forehead away from his face, letting your hand linger on his cheek for a moment, “Everyone falls off eventually, Jason.” You spoke softly, “But you’ll get back on, okay?” You asssured him. He nodded his head.

You slipped your hands in his jacket, helping him pull it off. He then took his shoes off and both fortunately and unfortunately for you, he took his shirt off next. You understood, he was clearly sweaty and overheated from the accident, not to mention the alcohol on top of it. After getting situated, he pratically collapsed on your pillow.

“If you need anything let me know.” You speak in a hushed tone. You just reach the door when he calls out for you.

“Actually, I do need something.” He said.

“Yeah, of course. What can I get you?” You asked.

“Can you stay?” He asked, unhesitantly. You looked into his eyes for any signs of alterier motive, but saw nothing, just the desperate need to not be alone. You thought about it for a moment; for one you knew it wasn’t the best idea, but you also wanted to be able to check on him in the middle of the night.

“Okay.” You say, walking over to him slowly. You pull yourself under the covers next to him, not exactly close but you weren’t exactly a mile away from him either. He fell asleep super fast, the exhaustion taking over him quickly. You turn away, facing the door, trying to fall asleep. Just as you feel sleep creeping on you, you feel arms snake around your body, and legs tangling with your own. You had to admit, you’ve never felt more comfortable then you do now.

It was around 5:00 in the morning and you had expected Jason to be gone. You assumed he would’ve regret what happened and left to spare your feelings, but he didn’t. Instead he was still right next to you, arms wrapped around you tightly with his head pressed against the back of your neck. You squirm in his grasp, trying to free yourself to avoid any awkwardness when he wakes up, but his hold is too strong. Luckily, he subconciously loosens his hold as you manage to carefully get up.

When you stood, you saw him bury his face into your pillow, making you smile. You walk downstairs quietly and enter the kitchen, getting yourself a glass of water. You head over to the couch and grab a book you hadn’t finished reading and open it. You decided to kill some time while you waited for him to wake up.

After a while you heard the creak of the stairs, indicating someone was walking down them. You look over and see Jason walking down while he rubs the sleep from his eyes.

“Hey.” You call out softly. He looks over and sees you sitting on the couch with a book in your hands. His first thought was that he definitely wouldn’t mind waking up to seeing you like that everday if he could.

He walks over and sits next to you. From the awkward look you were giving him, he guessed you were wondering if he remembered anything from last night. He could lie and say he didn’t and things would go back to the way they were, or he could tell the truth and potentially ruin everything you guys had. He was internally debating on which option to pick.

But before he could say anyting, you had already picked for him, “You remember last night, don’t you?” You said as more of a fact that a question.

He looked at you with a defeated look, “Yeah.” He sighed. You took that as a sign he had regret what happened, and you suddenly felt really awkward.

“Look, we can forget that this happened. I know you probably regret what happened—”

“Is that what you think?” He interjects. You were taken back, you hadn’t expected that to be his reaction.

“I mean, yeah.” You say. You were almost positive he had regret last night, so when he kissed you. Again. You were suprised to say the least. He took the book from your hands, tossing it onto the table. He put one of his hands on your stomach, pushing you down so that you were lying down. He hovered over you, though his lips never left yours.

“Does it look like I regret anything that happened last night?” He asked, his voice lower than before, making you shiver. You shook your head slowly, keeping your eyes on him the entire time he spoke to you.

“Well, maybe you need to do some rethinking then.” He spoke, before placing his lips back on yours.

[acey-wacey]

Good morning!!! Congrats for hitting 2000 followers, I think you really deserve it! Also, I'm really glad that you've returned! I've been following your blog ever since last year, when I found your "Love Rivals" and "Meeting your future children", I really like how you portray the twst characters in your writings! There are times where I smiled For the 2000 milestone event, could I please request Idia with Lavender (Mind Reading)? You know how Idia usually think lowly himself, right? What if Idia has feelings for reader, yet he doesn't take action because of his low self-esteem/fear of rejection, but when Idia got in a potion accident where he can temporarily read minds, all he can hear from reader's mind are praises and thoughts of infatuation/admiration about him.

So that's the general idea of it, the rest is up to you. Also, I don't mind if you'll make a few changes here and there. That's all, thank you and have a nice day!

This is so cute! Thank you for hanging around so long!

I may have niche-video-game-referenced my way a little too close to the sun with this one. Hopefully, it makes sense to somebody.

...

Pairing - Idia Shroud x Reader

Prompt - Mind Reader

...

"Tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna..."

It has been 40 minutes since Idia had gained his powers of telepathy and already he wanted them gone. Grim hadn't had a single thought the entire class except a dumb song he made up about tuna.

The whole thing had been Grim's fault really. The mischievous cat had run away from you and invaded the 3rd year alchemy room. And of course he ran right into Idia just as the upperclassman was adding ground eye of newt to his animal comprehension potion, causing the vial to smash all over him.

You had apologized profusely and tried to wrangle Grim back to your classroom, but Crewel made you miss your class and clean all the dirty cauldrons as punishment, thus why Idia couldn't stop hearing Grim's

Everyone else went on with making their potion, but unfortunately for Idia and his tendency to get overstimulated, he could hear the immediate thoughts of every person in the classroom. He had been trying and failing to pay attention to the lesson due to the crazy noise. Serves him right for daring to venture outside his room.

"I think I put too much nightshade."

"When's lunch again?"

"Sevens, he's pretty."

Idia perked up in his seat. That last one was your voice. He looked over to where you were scrubbing grime off the rim of a black cauldron. Much to his surprise, he made eye contact with you. You looked away so fast, he almost thought he imagined it in the first place.

"Shoot, I hope he didn't catch me staring," you thought. Idia could see the embarrassment in your face now that he knew what he was looking for. He didn't know who was standing behind him, but whoever the guy was was maxed out in luck to get the prefect to like him.

Idia turned back to his cauldron and began to stir lethargically. He tried to block out the noise coming from everyone's thoughts but it was getting very loud. He just wanted to be back in his room playing video games!

"His little pout is so cute! Poor thing, he probably wishes he was back in his room," you thought. Idia's brows furrowed as he subtly looked around the classroom trying to find the person you were thinking about. "I wonder what he's looking for."

Idia snapped back to look at you, only to find you glancing at him again. This time, you were startled but you held his gaze and offered a hesitant wave.

Idia turned his face away as fast as he could so you wouldn't see the growing blush on his face.

"Hm, his hair is turning pink on the ends. I hope he's not mad at me for staring at him," you thought, turning back to the cauldron you were working on. "Though if he doesn't want me to look at him, maybe he should try being less nice to look at."

Idia let out an involuntary squeak. He felt his head start to swim and quickly sat down on a nearby stool. He was sure he looked absolutely crazy to the other students but he was so preoccupied by your thoughts that were apparently about him.

"Is that shallow of me to think that? I don't know. I mean, I don't like him just because he's cute. I also love listening to him talk about games he likes and his inventions are crazy awesome!"

Idia pulled himself deeper into his jacket. Your gaze had been fixed firmly on your work for fear of being caught staring again, so you didn't notice Idia's rapidly increasing fluster meter.

"I like how sweet he is to Ortho, even though he kind of hates everyone else." You sounded kind of defeated when you thought that, or at least you would if your thoughts sounded like anything. "He probably hates me too. I am just another normie. Though I don't know if he co-ops Untitled Goose Game with just anyone."

"No! I don't!" he wanted to scream, but he couldn't get a single sound out of his mouth. He thought he was the self-deprecating one, but you seemed to have convinced yourself that the boy who had a big fat, very obvious crush on you hated you. He even let you play the blue switch controller even though it was his favorite.

"I do wish he would stop being so mean to himself though," you thought, more sincere than Idia expected. "He's so amazing, but refuses to believe anything nice I or Ortho say to him. Maybe if he read my mind, he'd know I'm being sincere."

Idia froze. Did you know about the potion? Had you been messing with him the whole time?

"Well, that little brat better believe me when I tell him I love him even if I have to beat it into him with a Wii remote tennis racket attachment," you thought with a playful vengeance. "Do you hear that, Idia Shroud? I'm gonna make you believe nice things about yourself no matter how many niche video games references it takes!"

That was the moment you decided to glance at Idia, downright shocked when you found him curled up inside his hoodie on a stool with bright pink hair poking out the top.

"Idia, are you okay?" you asked. When he didn't respond, you went up to him and brought your face down to where his would be if you could see it. "Hey, are you alright?"

He jumped, almost falling off the chair.

"You actually said that?" he looked stunned which confused you.

"Yes?" you offered, unsure what he was talking about. "I did just say it."

"Uh, um, I'm, uh, fine," Idia tried to smile at you but it came off more pained than reassuring.

"I don't believe you. What's the matter? Is it too loud in here?" you asked.

"Shame he's always hiding his face. His blush is so adorable!"

"Yes!" Idia shrieked frantically, catching the attention of a few nearby students. "It's too loud. I can't think."

You nodded empathetically.

"You wanna step out for a minute?" you offered, gesturing to the door with a nod of your head. Idia nodded, desperate to get away. It really was very loud, especially with everyone's thoughts flooding his brain. Your seemingly-harmless sweet nothings were only the final nail in his coffin.

You followed Idia out of the room and shut the door behind you.

"Won't Professor Crewel get mad?"

You scoffed.

"Not a single teacher at this school gets to get mad at me after everything I've done," you leaned against the wall with a calming smile. "And if they do, they'll answer to the ghosts that live in my house."

That made Idia chuckle. You lit up seeing a smile on his face, no matter how minute.

"I love seeing you smile. If only I could be the reason more often."

"You're pretty much the only reason," Idia mumbled. Your easy smile dropped.

"What did you say?"

"What?" Idia averted his eyes, his mind filling with panic. "I didn't say anything."

"No, no, you said 'you're pretty much the only reason'," you questioned, your eyes full of confusion and shock. "That sounded like... I don't know, I was thinking something and then you said that and it sounded like..."

You squinted in confusion before scoffing at yourself and relaxing.

"That's stupid, Y/N. He can't read your mind."

"Actually, I can?" Idia squeaked, his voice getting higher with every word. Your eyes widened.

"Idia," you said solemnly, standing dead still.

"Mm-hm?"

"You can read my mind."

"Well, not usually, but there was a thing with a potion and it was with Grim and it messed with my head and now I can read minds and it's actually really loud but mostly I'm just nervous because of the stuff you've been thinking and I'm just really..."

You held up a hand to silence Idia's rapid rambling. He looked away sheepishly. You sighed and blinked a few times to process before laughing. Idia looked up in confusion.

"Aren't you mad?" he asked hesitantly. "I violated your privacy."

"I mean, you saved me the time of confessing to you myself," you chuckled, a giddy smile on your face.

Idia stared at you, trying to find traces of joking but you seemed to be serious.

"You aren't mad?"

"I'm in love with you is what I am."

[legendary-69420]

☆o( F1 Grid Gone Wild : The Mystery of the Missing Driver )o☆

Genre: Humor, Friendship, Lighthearted F1 Fanfic Warnings: none I guess

a/n : This is part 5 of the series (You can also read it without reading any previous part). This is not the part of my story racing hearts but is another AU for my character. Hope you enjoy it. _________________________________________________

🏎️ Group Chat Name: "WHERE IS MARK???" 🏎️

[8:45 AM]

Carlos: Guys. Oscar: ? Lando: ? Yuki: What now. Carlos: Has anyone seen Mark? Max: No, why? Carlos: He’s not answering his phone. Charles: Maybe he’s sleeping, relax. Carlos: He’s not at home. Oscar: …what? Lando: ??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE’S NOT HOME. Yuki: NOT FUNNY, CARLOS.

[8:50 AM]

Carlos: I’m being serious. I went to his place this morning, and he’s not there. Oscar: Check Ferrari HQ? Carlos: Already did. Not there either. Yuki: Bro, what. Lando: STOP PLAYING, THIS ISN’T FUNNY. Max: His car keys are still in his apartment?? Carlos: Yup. Yuki: Ok, nah, this is feeling illegal. Oscar: He wouldn’t just leave without telling anyone, right? Carlos: He always leaves a text. Always. Max: Okay. Breathe. Where did you last see him? Carlos: Last night in the drivers' lounge. Lando: We were all there last night. Charles: We all argued with him last night. Max: Oh sh— Yuki: …oh. Oscar: Did we push him too far? Carlos: No, no, Mark’s not like that. Lando: Bro was PISSED last night. Oscar: We ALL made fun of him. Yuki: He called us “a circus of overpaid clowns” and stormed off. Max: And then Lando said “Take your main character complex somewhere else” 😭😭😭 Lando: OKAY BUT I DIDN'T MEAN IT 😭😭😭

[9:00 AM]

Charles: I’m going to the track. Carlos: He’s not there, I already checked. Charles: CHECK AGAIN. Oscar: …Charles? Lando: ?? Max: Bro is already in his car. Carlos: He’s going 200 km/h, guaranteed. Yuki: Ferrari finally moving fast for once. Max: 💀💀💀

[9:10 AM]

Oscar: What if he’s hurt. Yuki: Don’t say that. Carlos: What if he’s with… Rico Levian. Lando: 😳 Yuki: …NOT THE SUPER MODEL. Max: THIS IS NOT THE TIME, CARLOS. Oscar: If he’s with Rico, I’m leaving this chat. Yuki: SAME. Charles: HE’S NOT WITH RICO. Carlos: You sound real sure about that, huh? Max: How do YOU know, Charles? Lando: Sounds like somebody’s jealous. Charles: Shut up.

[9:30 AM]

Carlos: I’m calling his parents. Yuki: NO, DON'T DO THAT. Oscar: His mom will freak out. Lando: Isabella Spencer will have the WHOLE GRID in cuffs. Max: We’ll be on the evening news: “F1 Drivers responsible for rookie disappearance.” Yuki: Charles will get blamed first, 100%. Carlos: True. Charles: SHUT. UP.

[10:00 AM]

Charles: I CAN’T FIND HIM. Lando: 😭😭😭 Max: Ok ok, think, think. Where would he go? Carlos: He’s not at the track. Not at home. Not at HQ. His car is at home. Oscar: He doesn’t like clubs, so he’s not out partying. Yuki: He wouldn’t just disappear like that. Charles: THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT. Lando: 😳 Oscar: 😳 Yuki: 😳 Carlos: …Charles? Charles: You ALL were picking on him. ALL OF YOU. Max: 💀 Bro, YOU were laughing too. Charles: I WASN’T MEAN. Carlos: You called him “Drama King in Monaco” and said, “Go ahead, storm off, nobody’s chasing you.” Lando: "Nobody's chasing you" HAHAHA Charles: STOP LAUGHING. THIS ISN’T FUNNY. Carlos: HE’S LITERALLY GONE AND YOU’RE HAVING A MELTDOWN. Charles: YOU THINK THIS IS A JOKE??? Charles: I CAN’T LOSE HIM. I CAN’T LOSE HIM. Yuki: 😳 Oscar: …uh. Lando: "Lose him" ??? Max: EXCUSE ME?? Carlos: WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT "LOSING" HIM? Yuki: Charles, are you… are you good? Charles: SHUT UP.

[10:30 AM]

Charles: I’m calling the police. Carlos: NO, NO, NO. Max: Bro, NO. Oscar: STOP. Yuki: WE CANNOT HAVE THE POLICE AT FERRARI HQ. Carlos: DO YOU WANT THIS ON TMZ?! Max: I CAN ALREADY SEE THE HEADLINES: "F1 Drivers Can’t Keep Track of Their Teammate.” Oscar: "Ferrari loses another one." Lando: "Mark Spencer, gone but not forgotten." Charles: YOU ARE ALL USELESS. Yuki: Says the guy about to call Interpol.

[10:45 AM]

Mark: ??? Mark: WTF HAPPENED HERE???!?!? Lando: AAAAAAHHHHHHHH Carlos: AIN’T NO WAY. Oscar: THIS BETTER BE A GHOST. Max: WHERE ARE YOU. Yuki: WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN. Mark: Sleeping, bro?? Lando: SLEEPING WHERE?? Max: ARE YOU OKAY?? Carlos: Do you know we were about to call Interpol??? Yuki: I ALREADY DRAFTED A MISSING PERSON POSTER. Oscar: DUDE, WE WERE ABOUT TO CALL YOUR MOM. Mark: Relax, I was in the driver's lounge. Lando: HUH??? Max: WHERE??? Mark: In the corner. I was sleeping in the beanbag chair. Carlos: YOU WERE IN THE ROOM WITH US THE WHOLE TIME???? Oscar: SIR. Yuki: WE WERE LITERALLY IN THAT ROOM. Lando: WE SAT IN THAT ROOM FOR TWO HOURS. Charles: No. No. No. No. No. Mark: Y’all are so loud, I put my phone on silent. Lando: WE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD. Carlos: YOU HAD CHARLES READY TO CALL INTERPOL. Oscar: YOU HAD CHARLES SAYING “I CAN’T LOSE HIM.” Max: YOU HAD US READY TO FIGHT RICO. Charles: I’m blocking you. Mark: Why are you mad 💀💀💀 Charles: I HATE YOU. Carlos: "I CAN’T LOSE HIM, I CAN’T LOSE HIM" Yuki: Bro was two seconds from writing a love letter. Oscar: I’m getting this printed on a hoodie. Lando: Nah, we’re making it the NEW CHAT NAME. 🏎️ Group Chat Name Changed to: "I Can't Lose Him 😭😭😭" 🏎️ Charles: DELETE THIS CHAT. Max: NEVER. Carlos: We are eternal. Oscar: LEGENDARY. Mark: Y’all need help.

[polaroidhugs]

Dancing with Myself

'When there's no one else in sight/In the crowded lonely night/Well I wait so long for my love vibration/and I'm dancing with myself' Chapter 1 - Dancing with myself Chapter 2 - Poker face Chapter 3 - Rhiannon Chapter 4 - Hotel California

(SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: While late for work the 3rd time this month, in Hano's kindness, she takes some extra time to give a man crossing Shibuya his wallet, and when he barely even reacts to her gesture, it makes her mood even worse. Not as bad as when the entire city disappears, and it's just her and wallet guy left, though.

A/N: First post!! I finished AIB like 2 days ago, and I just got the biggest urge to write a fic after watching it, so... here it is! (Excuse my typos I’m still trying to get better at writing.)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of criminalistic past-juvie, in the last little bit of the chapter, a noose and gambling are mentioned.

BTW: the character has a given last name (Hano) but her first name is up to you.

Happy reading! WC: 4618

Shit. Late for work again. And for the third time this month, too. It's really not my fault: My alarm didn't go off, and when I tried beating on makeup, my apartment's fire alarm went off and everybody had to evacuate. This is most definitely a sign I need to wake up earlier. But will I? No. Whatever, there’s no use dwelling on it; I’ll just do my makeup at the office. 

Man, the city really is a beautiful place. I always find myself studying the passers-by as I wait for the light to turn. There's a dishevelled man seemingly in the same situation as me: his glasses perched awkwardly, not even having enough time to fix them, and he’s begging somebody on the phone to listen. Or, a more wicked idea, He might be a cheater, kicked out on the street, begging for his wife to let him explain.Then there’s three school girls clustered together, their voices bubbling with laughter about, from snippets of the conversation I can catch, boys.

That's the beauty of life for me. Everybody is so different. Everybody in this city has completely different lives from each other. Unless, all you do is stay in bed all day. But even those people have differing ideals. So, maybe that guy was a cheater. Most likely, he was just late for work. But I’ll never know.

My thoughts are interrupted by a soft thud, the sound of something hitting the pavement. My eyes flick to the ground to see a thin, black leather wallet, scuffed from use. The ID in the clear slot catches my eye, and it invites me to take a closer look. I can feel my purse slip from my shoulder to my elbow as I squat down to pick up the wallet.

I glance down at the wallet, the owner’s name "Shuntaro Chishiya" catching my attention as I stand back up. "pediatric cardiovascular surgeon" Damn, this guy is young for someone with such a fancy title. To be honest: his photo on the ID doesn’t do him too good: The angle of the light causes his face to be partially obscured by shadows, making eyes looking like two black holes. Whoever decided it’s basically a requirement for people to look bad on their ID needs to be locked up forever.

I slide over to a nearby pole to get out of the way. When I open the wallet a stack of crisp 10,000 yen bills greet me. Stacked neatly against eachother. Why’d I even do this to myself? Why’d I open it? The temptation to take them hit me like a punch. Three years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated to grab these bills up, maybe even bought some new designer for me and my friends with the card. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, snapping the wallet shut. My fingers linger on the leather, the temptation gnawing at me. 

No matter how much I think I’ve changed, that pull always comes back. But then guilt creeps in, and the fact that I’m even struggling with this disgusts me. I should be better than this by now. I remember those years. I was a disappointment. Stealing, smoking, getting in fights, in Juvie- almost, if i wasn’t bailed out. I think of my family, their faces twisted with disgust in the car mirror as they drove me home. I don’t like to remember it. I can’t remember it.

As the light signals to cross, I spot him: It’s impossible to miss this guy, really, his bleached blonde hair makes him stand out like the sun in a surrounding sea of black hair. He’s wearing a white cardigan and some shorts, hands in his pockets. How’d he not notice his wallet? His shorts don’t have a back pocket as far as I can see. I don’t even think about it as I make a beeline for him even though he’s walking away from my office building, I just have to return this to him.

“Excuse me, sir!” I yell, pushing my way through the crowd. About a dozen tiny apologies come from my mouth before I finally reach him, tapping him admittedly rough on the shoulder.

The man turns around and, thank God, it’s him alright. “Sorry for bothering you, but I believe this is yours.” I hold out his wallet, flipping it so he can see his ID. He stares at me for a moment before glancing down at his wallet. Much to my surprise, his hands aren’t cemented to his pockets: He reaches out one to take his wallet back to his pocket. “Thanks.”

And he turns head and begins to walk away. Surely he heard me yelling for him in the street? I wasn’t expecting him to grovel for me, but just that nonchalant thanks? Not even a “Thank you, maam.” Man, why do I ever bother being nice to guys?

I grit my teeth, my irritation somehow building even higher. Whatever, I begin booking it for my office building. Finally, I made it. The glass doors slide open agonizingly slow, like they know I’m in a time crunch. I wave a quick, distracted hand at Ageda, who’s cheerfully greeting me with her usual good morning as I rush to the stairs. I can’t even think about the elevator right now. My heels clack loudly against the metal steps, and as I get up to the fourth floor, I’m breathless with my legs burning from all that running.

I weave through the sea of cubicles, a bit of me dying inside when I see the stack of papers on mine: If any other jobs would give me the delight of an interview, I would go there instead in a heartbeat. Not that I’m not grateful for Hageda, he’s the only person that would give me a job looking at my past: I’m forever indebted to him. 

Once I get to my bosses office, I practically crash through the door. I stumble in, hands choking the coat rack by the door as the only possible way to keep me from collapsing. “I am so sorry!” The words barely even make it out of my mouth, and I shoot the most pleading look I can to my boss. “I-I swear it wasn’t my fault this time, my alarm didn’t go off and-and-”

“It’s fine, Hano-san.” He laughs softly. Him and this office always had a way of calming me down. I’ve known Hayashi for years; he’s a family friend, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him get angry. He’s just as cool as this office, with all the brown rustic furniture. 

“Do this again, however, I’ll have to tell your father to wake you up himself.” Oh, God. I can never be late again. I can already hear my father’s voice: ‘My friend gives you this job after your life of gangster-ness and this is how you repay him? Why did, God give me this disappointment as my daughter?’ The image of his face churned in disgust is seared into my brain.

I fix my bag back onto my shoulder as I bow. “Thank you, Buchou.” I should definitely be going now, getting to my job. My hand reaches to push the rustic wooden door open, but the power going off stops me in my tracks.

I guess I can’t get to work. What should I do, then? Go home? That thought places a grimace so big it hurts my mouth. Well, I guess it’s up to Hayashi. I turn around, my face brighter than the sun.

What the fuck? My boss isn’t there, and it’s not like there’s anywhere for him to hide in this office- I’d know. As a kid, me and his daughter would be so bored waiting for him to return from a meeting we’d play hide and seek to pass the time. There wasn’t any spots for us to hide well, so there sure isn’t any for him.

 Everything else in the room is just as it was a second ago; except for one thing. His glasses. They’re resting on the desk, abandoned. On top of that, one of the lenses looks like it’s been shot through.

“Hello?” What am I doing? There’s no way he would respond to me even if this was somehow a joke, and if it was, why? For being late? I’ve known this guy since I was little, he wouldn’t go through all of this just to scare me from being late again, he doesn’t care enough to do that! The whole room seems to be pressing in on me, the walls narrowing, the air growing colder.

I burst out my office, looking frantically from one cubicle to the next for anybody to explain what just happened, but there’s no one. No one is here.. My office is empty. Everyone that was here a minute ago, is gone. Even Tokuda, who hasn’t missed a single day of work in 12 years, is nowhere to be found. “Hello? Anyone? Is anyone there?” I quit my running, standing in the middle of the room, spinning in circles to spot someone that might not be a great hider. Nope.

I speed walk to the stairs, noting how the elevator is down, and every single computer is turned off. I blaze down the winding steps, the straps of my bag slipping once again. When I reach the main floor, there’s something I’d thought I’d see: Emptiness. there’s nobody crying in their seats about how they got scammed by a prince overseas, or somebody yelling at the lady upfront about how its her fault their card declined. It’s so… refreshing.

I have always been fascinated by how different people are, how different their lives are, but don’t get that confused with some sort of admiration for the differences. If I’m being honest, most people annoy the living hell out of me, I’d say about 8 in 10, being generous. They all just get under my skin.

The streets are the same as my office building: Desolate. And, if I’m not mistaken, I think the starbucks has moss creeping up on it? The hell? That would take a shit ton of time to happen normally, right?

The silence of Shibuya Crossing is almost too loud. Normally, the streets are filled with the incessant humming of just about a million different sounds. But now? It’s silent. It’s almost relaxing. I’m sure there are other people here- there must be at least one or two. But right now, I feel like someone just took their hands off my throat.

No more condescending coworkers giving me those pitying looks and snacks, no more parents lecturing me how I should be like my brother, no more fake smiles for the customers that have more complaints than sense; I’m free as a bird. I don’t even have to be wearing this sad office attire- Dress suit, skirt, and heels. The convenience store in the distance is humming my name.

I don’t give a damn how bad my heels are digging into the sides of my feet I sprint there, it doesn’t matter to me. I’ll be free of these horrible creations soon. Hopefully for good: I don’t know what it is, but ever since I was little, heels have been my worst enemy. I know some girls can stand them or build a resistance to them, but that’s not me. They feel like nails for me, and no amount of being in them has ever lessened that fact for me. Maybe my feet are just shaped strangely.

I practically teleport to the home section of the store, and there I see them. A simple pair of light blue slippers. Sitting on the shelf. The soft texture of the slippers feel heavenly in my hand as I pick them up. It’s like I’m a kid again, and the slippers are those huge rainbow swirl lollipops. Relief washes over me just imagining it.

Maybe I’m a bit dramatic, but I feel like I’m in utopia. With nobody I can do whatever and take whatever I want. Who’s going to stop me? I swing my feet into the air, my heel going along with it, and making a big thud as it touches the ground. But when I do the same thing with the opposite feet it hit’s something soft, Like flesh. I didn’t check if there was anyone in here, did I? I was too caught up with putting these slippers on. That’s mighty embarrassing.

What a coincidence: Wallet guy. Chinchilla, I think his name was? It already slipped my mind. Chinchilla has his hand in his pocket, posed like he’s waiting for the bus. His lips are curled into a small smirk- the kind that’s not really a smile, but kinda is. My heels are between his feet, but he doesn’t care about that. He’s just staring at me with that slight curve in his mouth.

What do I even say? “Sorry I just kicked you with my heel, man. My bad?” I don’t know this guy, I just returned his wallet to him earlier and all he gave me was a pathetic thanks. Do I say sorry? Do I ask him what’s going on? Why would he know?

“Oh, you.” That came out of my mouth much more sharply than I intended. I’m not that salty about the wallet thing, I think. Nothing about Chinchilla changes at all, it’s like he’s a greek statue. Quite frightening, if you ask me. “Sorry, I didn’t it like that.” I sigh, bending over and slipping on my new stolen slippers: I’m not trying to be barefoot infront of this guy.

After a moment, his lips twitch and his smirk deepens. Just a fraction, but it’s noticeable. “It’s just you and me, then?” His voice is casual, like he’s commenting on the weather. His eyes make their way back to me, and the smile fades out of his face. I feel like I shouldn’t be talking with him. Why is he and I the only two people here right now? Then again, what could I lose from responding?

“As far as I can see.” I vaguely gesture to store’s window, though in my view it’s covered by cleaning supplies and chargers. There’s this long silence that stretches between us as he stares out the window. I hate silence.

“Hey,” I say, slightly shifting my body. He raises his eyebrows for a split second before looking back to me. 

“Why are you and I the only people in Shibuya right now?” That’s what’s been in the back of my mind this whole time. Why am I the only one who hasn’t disappeared? I’ve never been particularly special. Mid grades and a delinquent for 90% of my life. It’s not like I’m special. Maybe he is: He’s a young long-title doctor. Definitely sharper than a sword. But I’m not.

“I don’t know.” He answers back to me, quite matter-of-factly. There’s not hint of confusion is his voice, or maybe a bit of nerve as to why him and this random girl are the only two people left in Shibuya. He just doesn’t know. Point blank period.

I’m unsure how to respond to thst. He simply just doesn’t know. Do I get mad and start barking at him for answers? I shouldn’t: He is most likely just in the dark as I am. And if he is, then I’ve missed out of a valuable warm body. Maybe I should ask him to pair up with me, investigate together. 

“We should stick together.” He states blankly, like he was reading my mind. I meet his eyes for the briefest moment before nodding. “We should.” I move to the front of the store, where a stack of shopping baskets wait for me. I can hear Chinchilla’s footsteps loosely following mine. I grab a basket and head straight for the food aisles. I don’t waste time, shoving anything with good shelf life into my basket.

I can feel my new partner’s eyes on me as I shove everything useful on the shelves into the basket, and it grinds my nerves: I just can’t stand when people watch me but don’t do anything. “Don’t just stand there, put those pockets to good use.” I snap, giving him the bitchiest look I can muster. Damn, I feel like my boss from when I was a delinquent. Demanding and impatient.Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Chinchilla flash that signature smirk as he walks somewhere out of my sight. Damn, this guy has absolutely zero urgency

It takes me a minute, but I fill my basket up the the brim, along with my purse. When I step out of the aisle, I can see Chinchilla casually leaning against the cashier counter, his pockets weighed down with snacks. Without a word, I push the door open, hearing the little ding of the bell as I exit, . That would mean, that everything powered by electricity is useless right now, and I can tell Chinchilla feels it too, I can hear him let out the quietest ‘hm.’

I stop at Shibuya crossing, it feels free not having to worry about a car hitting me. An apartment would probably be the safest bet for a place to put all this shit in, but for some reason, my body feels a strong gravitational pull to Starbucks. That convenience store was rather low on water for some odd reason, and the Starbucks would definitely have a shit ton, plus caffiene, which could be nice, too. Wouldn’t be the first time that happened to me. But, since we’re partner’s now, I guess I have to ask for Mr. Mysterious’s thoughts.

“Starbucks or an apartment?” I ask, my voice flat. “We’re low on water, and I’m guessing taps don’t work anymore,” He’s behind me, but I can imagine his face not changing.

“Astute observation.” 

I feel quite bullied by what he said just now. Is he making fun of my intelligence? Not cool, man. Or, this could be an answer with his own personal touch of mockery. If he acknowledges my observation as astute, then he probably thought of that too, meaning he’s thought of the apartments being a subpar place to go aswell. I don’t ask another question, I just begin walking and hope he follows.

We make it to the Starbucks and just like every other place, it’s empty, with no indication this place ever opened in the first place. There’s just one singular round chair fallen over, but that’s it. For a second, I’m stunned. I can’t believe it’s the first time I’ve been here: It’s right next to my work. I put the basket off supplies and my purse down onto a booth, and Chinchilla follows suit, slowly as ever taking the snacks he shoved in his pockets out and placing them next to the basket.

I look to the counter. Why not? Nothing’s stopping me. “One large espresso coming right up!” I announce as I grab a large cup, some water still in it, and pretend to make the most extravagant coffee in the world. I shake the cup like I’m some sort of bartender. My laughter rings out, care free.

My mood should be much darker right now. The city’s empty. Everyone’s disappeared. Any sort of technology is useless. But I’m loving this. Sure, it’s unsettling, but also so fun.

“I don’t drink caffeine.” Chinchilla’s voice cuts through my thoughts. Very late reply, indeed. He’s staring at me, and I’m staring right back at him. “You’re a doctor,” I shoot back as I set the cup down. I lean on the counter, elbows digging into the surface. “Of course you drink caffeine.”

“Med student.” He corrects, like that’s going to change anything in my point. If anything, it makes my point richer.

“Oh, a med student?” I laugh, bobbing my head as I click open the register; nothing. Aw, man. “And you already’ve got such a fancy title? You’re smart.”

He doesn’t reply to that, but I can tell it boosts his ego as he looks through the basket of snacks, settling on a yellow packet of cookies.

It’s about an hour later. I’m just sitting on a stool, looking out at the beauty of the silent city while God knows what Chishiya is doing in the back. Oh, yeah. Me and him exchanged names before he went off to somewhere in this cafe. His name is Chishiya. Where’d I get Chinchilla from? 

I’ve thought a lot over this past hour, about who I am. I’m an idiot. Through and through, all my life. What my family has said hurts, but it’s true. My friends and I, damn, we were all so fucking stupid. But I guess there’s nothing I can do about it now: What’s done is done.

A faint glow of pinkish-white spills to the corner of the window. It’s nearly blinding to my eyes, which have gotten quite accustomed to the darkness. Where is that coming from? I climb onto the table, cranning my neck to get a better angle. The light illuminates a pub me and my friends used to sneak into: It was a good experience, but I still have a year until I can legally re-visit. Not sure if that matters much now, though.

“Yo!” I yell out to Chishiya, hoping he hasn’t escaped to some intricate labyrinth where he can’t hear me. “Check this out!”

There’s a few seconds of silence shared between us before I begin to hear him shuffling out of the back. I watch as Chishiya walks out from the back, through the counter and over to me. As he begins to inspect the light, my attention too wanders back to it. “Should we check it out? Could be more people.”

It also could be a risk: I know that, and obviously someone as intelligent as him knows that. But if it entails more people, maybe they know what’s going on. That seems like a good risk to take. “Sure.” He answers, immediately moving towards the exit. I scramble off the table, my slippers minimizing the sound I make when I hit the floor. I also don’t miss out on slyly snatching a few snacks as I follow him out the door.

An impossibly bright and obnoxious arrow points down to the door of the pub. As if we’d miss it in the absence. Without a word between us, Chishiya and I step forward into the pub. The pub is exactly how I remember it from three years ago: A huge bar stretches in the back, looking tiny in comparison to the massive array of gambling tables scattered across the room. At the spot where the bouncer would usually be standing, there’s only a round table. On it sits one singular phone, the screen white. We get free iphones now? Whoopee. 

Chishiya’s doesn’t hesitate to pick up the last phone. A corporate ding sounds from the phone as words show up on screen.

It read’s “Error has occurred: too many players. Partner up. If you are eliminated, chosen partner is eliminated with you.”  

Game? Eliminated? What the hell? For the first time since I’ve met him, which hasn’t been long, Chishiya’s face is slightly confused. Of course, still with that signature smirk as always. It’s starting to grow on me, I have to admit. I peek around the corner to see the infamous Black Jack table with four other people people sitting around it. That’s where my old boss won the money to treat us all to dinner at the fanciest diner in Tokyo. Well, I couldn’t call it ‘won,’ I would say he scammed the poor dude, but when it comes to gambling, same thing, right?

Chishiya ambled to the circular table, and I follow him. At first, his uncaring nature really creeped me out, but now it’s kinda calming. He’s not scared, and I’m sure in his mind he has a rational reason for not being. So why should I be?

I know why now; I rebuke that. As we get closer, I notice every person there has something around their neck that isn’t a beautiful family heirloom, at least, I hope it’s not: They all have nooses tied around their neck. Not tight enough to choke them, but if those things got even a few centimetres higher it sure would. Just the thought of that makes my throat tighten in discomfort. I look to Chishiya, expecting him to back away, or show some sign of being scared, but nah. He pulls the chair out, and carefully puts his head in the noose. Great job, man. Great job.

It takes everything in me to stay quiet, to put on the best poker face imaginable. Everybody else are blank slates that give nothing away. Except for the fact that they think we’re weak: They’re looking at us in a disgustingly predatory way, like we’re the mice and they’re the cats.

Two people there are smoking, one a middle aged man and another an older lady. The guy has a laughable goatee and a fat cigar dangling from his mouth, the end of it chewed as if it’s life support: He’s a total show-off. The lady, however, isn’t. Smoke pours out from her nostrils, cigarette dangling from her middle and pointer finger as she steadies her eyes on me. She’s what I strive to be when I grow up: Her clothes are colorful and she has these gorgeous gold earrings I know she had to take money from a will to afford. Man, something about the way she tilts her head like she’s just figured something out about me is terrifying, but also breathtaking.

Then there’s two other men. To the left of Chishiya is a guy about our age- 18 to 25 I would guess, and he has very tall black hair. Not too-bad looking. There’s nothing special about the other guy, he looks to be an average office worker, glasses and a buzzcut.

After a while of everyone handing out sharp stares, a ding comes from all of their pockets. I walk closer to Chishiya, looming over his shoulder to see what popped up on his phone. 

“Regristration closed. There are a total of 5 - 6 participants.” Is me being here a glitch? This thing doesnt know how many people are supposed to be in this game. Holy shit, this is trippy. “The game will now commence.” Poker face is usually something I’m great at- but now? I feel like I’m transparent. ‘The game will commence’ with nooses around peoples’ necks? I would be lying to say this didn’t frighten the shit out of me.

The show-off has a grimace on his face while he looks around to study everyone elses’ face. But he can’t find anything out, their eyes are all blocked by their phones. Then, his eyes lock into mine. I don’t hold it, my eyes flickering down to Chishiya’s screen. But he clearly found something out about me: I can hear him elicit a laugh straight from his gut.

Another pinging sound comes from the phone. “Difficulty: Six of diamonds” 

I’m scared shitless right now, but I have to admit, ranking a game based on cards is pretty badass.

“Game: Blackjack. Rule: One winner remains before time limit is reached.” Seems easy enough, my guy can do this. Even if he doesn’t know how to play, I’m sure he can learn. “Game over conditions: Time limited reached. The loss of all of your chips mid game. Illegal transfer of chips. Illegal restraint.”

“Game start.”

Next chapter!!

[sisterlybloodoath]

One thing I fantasize about a lot would be accidentally coming across someone killing somebody else. Not in affect. But like a serial killer or smth. Maybe someone that hasnt had their thrill in a while and got a bit sloppy and took a higher risk than usually, so decided to make their kill on a dimly lit street at night that rarely has anyone passing by at this hour, no houses around for miles. Silence.

Just standing there, frozen w/ shock and arousal at the scene, seeing someone beat someone to dead, not even cutting them, slicing them up or elegantly torturing them..... just some kind of raw, primal aggressive urge that hasnt been vented in to long and therefore has derformed into something much less savoury and controlled. Hearing the sound of bones cracking, gargling, begging. The helplessness of the victim up until it passes out & then stops moving altogether.

Considering to quietly sneak away since its dark out and maybe I havent been spotted yet, knowing it would be the wiser, smarter thing to do, but somehow just continiung to look....... the arousal maybe getting the better of me, arguing it away as fear, telling myself its not my fault im not leaving, I simply cant help it, im to afraid. No, its not because the sight is making me wet, or because my heart is beating faster and I get the urge to come closer to get a better look - no, that would be disgusting, right?

Finally, the inviteable, the murderer looks at me - sees my rough outlines, sees me just standing there.

I dont move.

He doesnt move.

I should run. But I dont.

"Can I see? Can you show me what their corpse looks like right now?"

Both a healthy amount of fear, and an unhealthy amount of sincere arousal in my voice.

"Sure, why dont you step into my van?"

I croak out a bitter laugh. "Yeah...... right. right....." Shifting from right foot to left foot.

Deciding that my arousal does not justify risking my actual life and then finally making the grand decision to try to run, turning on my heels and running into the direction I came from - my feet hitting the asphalt loudly.

Before being tackled to the ground and making violent impact with the ground beneath me, then being thrown over his shoulders and carefully carried back into the van.

Skull-numbing pain from the rough impact rocking thru me, maybe even bleeding a little bit from the forehead, but just some scrapped skin, nothing major.

"So? You wanted to take a look?"

Him turning the light back on inside the van so I get an ever better look.

Just seeing the smashed up face of the victim up close, their mouth turned into one big gaping hole revealing teeth where cheek should be. Eyes blurring together into a soulless mass thats been throughly destroyed.

Looking back at him in total silence. Uncertain on what to say or how to behave now, if to express any of the thoughts of arousal shooting through my brain, or if to pretend to be entirely innocent and scared - honestly neither options would sound like theyd give me an actual shot at surviving at that point. But id be scrambling, panicking.

His eyes looking at me emotionlessly, almost like I wasnt really present to him.

"So? What do you think of my work?" Hed ask with that slightly impatient tone.

My eyes would dart back to the still very much opened outside of the van, the dimly lit street ...

".... Well you looked... pretty pent up when you killed them. You went at it for ... several minutes. It looked.. -"

Hed cut me off "So you watched it? You stood there and watched? Instead of trying to escape... early.. you just watched? Why?" His eyes would run over my body more seriously now, considering if it had been fear, if my question had been a weak ploy to try to get him to humanize me, or whether..

"... Look. I dont know you. I dont know what you want to hear. I could tell you exactly what went through my head, but somehow I feel.. like if I say something you dont like much, ill wind up dead."

Hed tilt his head "But if you dont say anything, I could also get upset and kill you. You might as well try it with the truth. Or.. you could of course try to appease me one final, last time.. and never know whether I wouldve liked the truth better."

.. Id scrunch my hands together, it doesnt really seem like hed let me survive, anyways, given even now I was fully seeing his unclothed face, to close, knowing to much, really.

I might as well be honest, at that point. Id agree with him.

"I guess.. Id like to say it was just fear, but.. I liked seeing the persons pain, hearing it - and .. I guess the way you went at them.. had something very primal yet practiced about it. You two.. just kinda blended together into the practice of someone killing and someone.. being killed."

Id mumble under my breath, voice quiet but steady, breathing slightly aroused.

".. I guess it turned me on."

Hed grin in this off-putting yet almost sincere way. "I cant tell whether youre lying to me or not, but if thats your honest answer.. we could arrange for you to survive. But if you did lie, you wont make it long."

One long last stare back to the outside of the van.

I should try to run away. I should get up. Id get tackled down within two seconds, but I should do it just to prove im trying to get out of this situation.

"Dont get me wrong....... Surviving sounds good. But I dont know you either. Precisely."

"Youd get to know me, whether you want to or not. Say. You know theres really only two options here : I take you with me or I kill you. I might even let you choose."

Id take a deep breath. "I.. look." Dont tell him youre not sure surviving with him would be preferable over dying, dont tell him youre scared of pain, dont tell him youre not a masochist. Dont show fear.

"Oh." Hed exclaim. "No, I got that. You want to hurt people. You dont wanna get hurt. I got that. Im just saying I could keep you, own you, bring you home. You wouldnt have to suffer, really. Youd just have to be... honest. Loyal. Not try any bullshit that would force me to cut your throat."

Id nod silently, solemnly, almost obediently. Trapped.

He sounded almost hopeful there.

".... I dont.. know you.. like that.. but... sure..... as long as I dont end up in some fucking basement."

"No, I could build you a pretty room give you a long chain round your ancles, you could have your own TV, pretty new clothes. I dont need everyone around me to suffer. I think it would be nice... just to have someone that knows around."

"And then..?"

"Well, I would of course wanna test how deep that sadism runs. Id want to know whether youd be as aroused when I killed him if you did it yourself. And you know, if youre in that deep.. I might even trust you."

That sounded like a complete and utter lie. Both to good to be true, and also to disgusting for me to want it to be true.

Id take one final look outside the van, feel a sort of disgust well up in me, hearing my ears ring - everything feeling blurry. Nauseauting. My blood circulation not keeping up with the shock I was currently experiencing.

Not a good state to try running again in.

"Hey, I can treat you better than youd expect. You dont really have to look *this* horrified. Part of you wants this. Theres a reason you didnt run whilst you stil had a chance. Its fine. If you dont fuss I wont tie you up on the drive back, how would that be? Starting to build some trust early, if you let me."

My eyes would wander back to the corpse sitting between us. Literally the only thing giving me physical distance was this mauled corpse with its smashed in head. Id look at it. A thing of beauty.

"...I dont really have a choice anyways, do I?" Id sigh, still trying to shake of the gut-wrenching fear.

"You very much had a choice, you already said 'yes'. And you.. really dont get to take that back. But thats good. If you had build me up like this just to let me down, I definitively wouldve killed you in a very painful way. But now you get to have a life with me, isnt that great?"

Id slowly nod again.

"... You better make true on actually treating me well then." Id whisper.

Id shift around and clumsily climb onto the seat next to the drivers seat.

"Good. I will. If you let me."

[scary-grace]

I didn’t put this WIP on the list for the WIP game, but I’m hyped about it, so here is an excerpt from a fic inspired partially by a conversation with @sophsiaaa and written for a summer fic event hosted by @threadbaresweater! Shigaraki x reader, coffee shop au + ‘a day at the beach’:

Past noon, things slow down a bit. You decide to speed-clean the espresso machine, and you’re so focused on your work that you don’t notice the customer. It’s possibly also the customer’s fault, since he’s peering at you from over the drink pickup counter instead of standing by the cash register, and when he barks the question at you, it startles you badly. “What’s the password?”

“On the WiFi?” You tuck your burned hand behind your back. “No password. Find a place to sit down and have at it.”

The customer looks disconcerted. Or at least you think he does — the lower half of his face is covered with a surgical mask, and given that he doesn’t have eyebrows, it’s hard to read his expression. “Why?”

“Why isn’t there a password?” You haven’t gotten that question yet. “I want people to be able to use it if they need it.”

“They’re gonna watch porn.”

“Me putting a password on the WiFi wouldn’t stop that,” you say. “And I’m not the Internet police. If somebody starts acting up, I’ll deal with it. If not — just use headphones.”

The customer’s expression twists. “I didn’t mean me.”

“Sure.” You’re not a moron. “It’s not my business what you do. Unless your business starts messing with my business. Seriously. Knock yourself out.”

The customer turns away, and you spend a second being extremely grateful that you went for single-occupancy bathrooms instead of multiple-stall bathrooms before you go back to cleaning the espresso machine. Your hand hurts, but it’s nothing running it under cold water won’t fix later. When you straighten up, there’s someone at the counter.

It’s porn guy, who you really shouldn’t call porn guy. Innocent until proven guilty and all that. You dry your hands and hurry over. “What can I get for you today?”

“Black coffee.”

“Sure. Anything else?”

The customer glances at the pastry case, then shakes his head. Then his stomach growls audibly. He knows you heard it. What little of his face is visible above the mask turns red. “No.”

“Tell you what,” you say. “I’ve got these new pastries the bakery wants me to try out, but next to nobody’s tried one yet. If you agree to tell me how it was, you can have it half off.”

“I have money.” The customer shoves a credit card across the counter to you, and you see that he’s wearing fingerless gloves. Or sort of fingerless gloves. They’re missing the first three fingers and that’s it. “I don’t need help.”

“No, but you’re helping me out,” you say. You add the pastry to his order and discount it by half, then fish it out of the case with a pair of tongs. “For here or to go?”

“Here.” The customer watches as you set it on a plate. “What is that?”

“It’s babka.”

“I can read. What is it?”

“I don’t really know,” you admit. Maybe that’s why people aren’t buying them. “The filling is chocolate and cinnamon, though. It’s hard to go wrong with that. It’ll be just a second with the coffee.”

You fill a mug, then point out the cream and sugar. Then you realize you still haven’t tapped the customer’s card. You finish ringing it up and glance at the cardholder’s name. Shimura Tenko. He hasn’t been in before today. You’re not the best with faces, but you never forget a name.

[yukidragon]

Imagine if instead of calling MC during post-nut clarity, Ian went to reddit to ask for advice? (Well, the bland-name legally-distinct version of reddit in this universe.)

Of course the comments would rip him apart and there'd be more crying, but it's kind of interesting to imagine the post he might've wrote.

For example, imagine the way Ian would describe MC in the post to other people. Would he try to justify what he did because the relationship was rocky, or would he be mostly bemoaning that he has no idea why he did it? Would he talk up MC's good qualities or slip in a lot of things that bugged him that he never brought up? What little unspoken biases would come out during the post?

I think the tone of the post would be mostly focused on how much Ian is hurting, as it is him venting to a bunch of internet strangers. He focuses on how terrible a person he feels he is, and how much he fears what's going to happen when MC finds out and how this might destroy their relationship. He just can't lose them! He can't!

I like to think Ian would have the state of mind to at least use a throwaway account and aliases for himself and others he mentions in the post. However, if MC is the type to visit those forums often, maybe even introduced Ian to them in the first place or vice-versa, it's possible MC recognizes enough details to realizes it's about them. Maybe it could even go viral and they find out about the post listening to a reading on podcast or video site.

Using my MC Alice as an example, I can imagine Ian talking about her weight and how he totally loves her in spite of how overweight she is, and she's so cute and kind. But the affair partner looked like she stepped out of a porn ecchi manga - big boobs, big butt, tiny waist, long trim legs, and incredibly flirtatious and sexually charged.

On that note, Content Warning for fatphobia, acephobia, and internalized religious-based shame!

Oh Ian had no idea it was flirting at first, he swears, but it felt so good. He never really felt like Alice really saw him as attractive since she's asexual, and she isn't all that enthusiastic about sex. It's another subconscious bias slipping through to justify himself and get sympathy despite the horrendous thing he did.

The sex with the affair partner was mind blowing, but once it was over Ian realized what he had done and felt just so awful. The affair partner tried to reassure him that it was only natural he found her more attractive (because people who tempt others to cheat in a relationship love to stroke their egos). No one has to know and they can keep having fun~

Naturally taking the affair partner takes snipes at Alice. She had done so in the past that Ian had called out in so much he offered feeble protests that Alice had good points too, while trying hard not to upset his new "friend." The comments usually were so innocuous he felt like he was overthinking it, but in the situation they were overt and insulting and he snapped at the affair partner in that moment.

Now Ian feels bad about that too since affair partner is telling him he overreacted. She tried to reassure him that everybody in a long distance relationships cheats. In fact, Alice was probably cheating on him right now. Anyone who says they're ace - in her opinion - are just lying to seem more "righteous" than they are and asexuality doesn't actually exist. Affair partner's comment that there must be somebody desperate enough to want to fuck a fat girl was what set Ian off.

Yes, my version of the affair partner is complete scum. I mean, people who tempt others to cheat tend to only care about making themselves feel superior to someone else.

The post online is a lot of word vomit with a token attempt to clean up spelling and grammar errors. Ian just keeps crying and is desperate for anyone online to tell him how he can make it up to Alice and save their relationship. He doesn't want to end the friendship with affair partner either since he knows it's his fault this happened, because he just couldn't control himself. All that internalized shame for his sexual urges bubbling to the surface. He knows he fucked up and he just wants to know how to atone for his sins.

Of course when describing Alice before describing the affair partner, Ian mentions their good points. Alice is so kind, even overtly so, holding him whenever he cried, always reaching out to others, being more motherly than his own mom. She's sweet and kind like that to everyone, and everyone loves her. She's everything he could ever want and she satisfied him in bed.

Man, imagine if Ian intended to write that Alice is everything he wanted in a partner, only to accidentally use the alias he made up for the affair partner instead of the one he used for Alice.

I mean, easy mistake to make, right? He's using fake names he just made up on the spot. Of course he's going to mix them up. He even insists as such when a comment calls him out for it before he can fix it in an edit. It was just a typo!

Ian admits that he felt guilty about subjecting Alice to his sexual urges. He knows sexual urges are sinful. She's asexual and doesn't really initiate sex but is always eager to please him anyway. She's always been like an angel to him and to everyone. Sex with her sometimes made him feel like a filthy sinner like he was desecrating something too pure and good for this world in the name of his shameful urges.

The affair partner though... Ian admits she's exciting, thrilling, so open in discussing sex like it's no big deal. She flaunts her body, confident in a way Alice isn't. The two of them are like night and day. When he had sex with the affair partner he didn't feel like he was defiling an angel. He admits he doesn't know what he was thinking, but it was the most intense, raw, and amazing sex he's ever had.

Which makes Ian feel even more like absolute shit for enjoying it so much.

Perhaps the allure Ian felt, aside from the physical attraction, was that he didn't feel like he was dragging someone else down. They were both filthy sinners acting like animals, only focusing on the pleasure and not thinking about consequences. He didn't think about the future, or about guilt and shame... at least not until after the post-nut clarity hits.

Even if Ian had this irrational feeling that sex with Alice was wrong, he knows it's wrong with the affair partner. In the afterglow, cuddling with Alice made him feel safe, accepted, loved, and like what they experienced wasn't as dirty and sinful as he felt. The aftercare soothed his worries and made him feel like what they had was actually pure and good and full of love.

The afterglow with the affair partner felt wretched. Ian immediately wanted to throw up. It was all wrong. He still can't understand why he got caught up in it like he did when he knows it's wrong... but in the moment it felt so good.

Another piece of advice Ian requests of the people of the forum is how to stop thinking about the sex he had with the affair partner so that he never gets tempted again. All he wants is to be happy with Alice, his partner, the woman he wanted to marry since they were kids!

The comments, naturally, tear Ian apart, but some scumbags support him, insulting Alice due to his description of her and saying what he did was only to be expected. If she wanted to keep him, she should've tried harder and lost weight.

While Ian doesn't respond to every comment, he responds to many. To those raking him over the coals, you can practically see the tears spilling onto the phone screen as he types that he knows he's a piece of shit, but he came here to get advice on how to fix things! Alice is the only one he wants to be with! He never wanted this to happen!

Ian makes an edit to the post in response to the scumbags, pleading with people not to insult Alice. He tries to protect her honor, talks even more about so many good qualities about her, and how these people don't even know her or understand!

He also insists this post isn't rage bait or farming for attention.

Ian also slips in that he knows Alice would forgive him even if he told her, since she's just that kind and forgiving of a person, but she would be crushed. She's already put up with so much over the years and still loves him. He can't handle what this will do to her. He doesn't want to break her heart over something so selfish and vile. He can't believe he did something so stupid, but he just wants to know how to fix this without hurting her.

In a way, Ian irrationally fears that he's now just like these scumbags in the comments due to his cheating. The things they say about her... did he subconsciously think them? Is he really such a horrible person? The ones trying to justify what he did are so vile, and the rest are condemning him and hoping that Alice dumps him.

Ian was hoping to get advice, and he does, a little. There are some people in the comments that take a more soft approach to chastising him. In the end, their encouragement is just confess and go to couple's therapy.

Ian resisted going to therapy all this time because of hearing negative things about it, how pointless it is (mainly from his mother), but he decides that's the best shot they have. He'll do anything to fix this now.

Ultimately, the comments make him fear telling Alice all the more given how much hatred he got for his post.

Ian does post updates in the aftermath. First that he broke down and told Alice. She forgave him and they're going to try and make it work. He doesn't specify how, just that they talked a lot and many tears were shed. Though he got so much hate online, some of the advice did seem to help, so he's back to vent more and get more advice. He'll suffer the hate if it means atoning for his sins.

Oh there's also a brief mention of Alice going to the hospital for a while, but Ian mostly focuses on how awful he feels and how it must be his fault, without going into details out of respect for her privacy.

Then there'd be another update from Ian later on about how Alice ended things, and he's devastated. He was so confused by it, as if it came out of the blue. They were working on fixing things! He thought things would get better, but then she told him that she just couldn't do it anymore right now. She needs some space.

Ian goes into self-pitying mode, knowing it's his fault and he messed up, but he thought things were going to be okay. What does he do now? How does he fix things? What did he mess up after things seemed to be getting better?

Then an edit is thrown in that Ian found out Alice's friends apparently talked her into breaking up with him. She still says she needs space to think before they can try again. Ian can't blame them given all the comments roasting him, but he was trying! He really was! How can he prove that?

At this point the comments are just all telling Ian to leave Alice alone and let her move on. It's over. Even the more empathetic posters don't have advice for him this time.

Hmm... Ian might not have gone to a forum for advice right after cheating in Sunshine in Hell, but I like the idea that he sought out advice after he confessed what he did to Alice. He might've even been a regular poster to online forums for advice anonymously in the past.

Of course if Alice stumbled across the post and realized it was Ian who made it, it'd make her feel even more violated than before. She'd be the type to read way too much into how Ian talked about her and the affair partner, particularly when people in the comments called him out for how he phrased certain things.

If nothing else, it'd make Alice feel more certain that Ian wouldn't be happy in a relationship with her in the long term. It'd also tear her apart to hear in his own words just how much he's suffering.

The post would haunt Alice at the back of her mind, the hate comments and Ian's little offhand remarks in the posts picking at her insecurities.

Naturally, Alice would avoid those forums for a while, as well as anyplace else Ian might be lurking online. Even posts that seem sort of similar give her this feeling of paranoia that it might be him vague posting about her again. Finally, she decides to just take a break from the internet as much as humanly possible, including socials.

Wow, this little off the wall what if scenario grew into something much bigger than anticipated. I hope you all enjoyed this idea, as well as how I applied it to Alice and Ian's relationship. If you did, perhaps consider what sort of post Ian might make about his relationship with your MC and the fallout from that. Have fun!

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