#please excuse the long hiatus life got in the way!

[miabebe]

Where you return

Scenario - After almost a year of no contact, you meet an old fling at a wedding.

Pairing - Model! Reader × Racer! Mingyu, Model! Reader x Pilot! Wonwoo

Genre - smut with a bit of plot hehe

Word Count - 7K

Warnings - Switch! Mingyu, Brat tamer! Wonwoo, Oral (f receiving), ties, fingering (self), protected sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasm, mild angst

So let's talk about fuck buddies Mingyu and Wonwoo,

You've been getting the strange feeling of being watched for a long time now but it genuinely surprises you when you scour the crowd and your eyes meet Mingyu's. His presence takes you aback for a bit but you guess it makes sense that he was invited to the wedding of two of Seoul’s most famous celebrities. You're still surprised though, that of all the people in the wedding, he's looking at you.

You smile at him, giving a small wave, just to be polite, for old times sake. The way he smiles back has your heart clenching - you miss him. You really really miss him. But when you see him walk towards you, you excuse yourself away from there. Not again, never again.

You try to avoid him pretty much all day but every time you sneak a glance at him, he's already looking at you. You can tell he wants to talk, you can tell he's upset that you're not giving him a chance but you can't afford to. It took you months to finally be in a space where you had got it together. If you let him in again, this time, it would break you.

Your attempts weren't successful for long though.

When the cocktail party starts, you grab a small bite of hors d'oeuvres and take a walk around the hotel, settling down on a small bench in the garden, staring at the strangely cut grass. You could really do with a drink but you have a shoot tomorrow evening; you figure it would be better to not indulge in alcohol right now. But even after so long, as though he had read your mind, you see a pair of shoes walk up to you and beer bottle being held out.

You look up at Mingyu, knowing he's finally caught up, leaving you without an escape so you simply take the bottle from him and set it aside. Mingyu settles on the bench next to you, not too close like you meant something to each other but also not far enough to be considered strangers.

The first thing he asks is if you changed your number and you nod. He probably didn't expect you to completely disappear from his life the day you confessed you can't keep sleeping with him anymore but you did what you had to save your sanity. He then asks how you've been. You say you've been fine. You really have. You've been a lot busier than usual - you've got more brand deals and shows and shoots lined up for the next 6 months, you managed to move out from that little shared space with your girlfriends and find your own place, you were meeting people, going on dates, it was all going great.

Mingyu confesses he's not been too well. You knew that, you saw the news. Ferrari's most famous F1 racer takes an indefinite break to tend to his health. You always knew between racing, dieting and working out, Mingyu was struggling with his health so you were glad he took some time off for himself but now that you see him, you can tell he's far less happier being on a hiatus. You want to offer him comforting words but you've never really been good at that so you just hold his hand and stroke it softly. You instantly regret it because the look he gives you breaks your heart a little - you know what he needs, you know you can give it to him. But it would mean you break all over again.

Mingyu searches your eyes for some response, leaning closer. It takes every fibre in your body to move away from him softly shaking your head. But when he softly whispers please, you can't help but give in, allowing him to press his lips onto yours. First he's softly kissing then slowly devouring you to the point you couldn't breathe anymore - it's electrifying, it's dizzying, it's reminiscent. When he finally parts from you, he buries his face your neck, muttering how much he missed this. You chuckle, asking if none of his other fuck buddies kissed him. He claims he hasn't slept with anyone since you left and you freeze.

Why, why, why now?

The first time you saw Mingyu was 3 years ago. He had just won the Italian Grand Prix and was celebrating with his team in the very hotel you were staying at during calender shoot in Milan. The exact moment you first locked eyes with him was when he walked past you at the hotel lobby with his arms swung over the shoulders of two of your fellow colleagues. When you saw them the next morning, they could barely walk which wasn't ideal given "the walk" was practically the biggest part of modelling, yet somehow you wanted a taste of that. The following few days when you kept bumping into him, you could tell he had his eyes on you, but you were in no hurry. You wanted to see how this would pan out.

Eventually, after a whole lot of seductive glances and deliberate smirks, you found yourself under him having quite literally some of the most mind blowing orgasms of your life. Apparently Mingyu was just as satisfied because the morning after, when you exchanged identities and he discovered you too were based in Seoul, he proposed the two of make this recurring occurrence. From that day then on, the two of you had a lot of sex, pretty often and pretty intensely. The underlying message was always clear though - it was just sex. You were aware it wasn't exclusive and that he was sleeping with other people but you weren't - Mingyu gave you what you needed and more.

But you never understood if sex was all he wanted from you, why he never behaved like a fuck buddy? Why he made you stay the night and made sure you got a good night's sleep? Why he always woke you up to the best possible breakfast? Why he cooked for you on some nights, why he talked to you about his life, why he showed you sides of him that he never showed the world? How on earth were you not supposed to fall in love with him?

But love was not on the table in this arrangement. Not only for some ridiculous reason was it against his contract, Mingyu was not interested in dating anyone - he simply wanted to sleep around. And now he tells you he doesn't want anyone else?

You might be willing to put your body in his hands one more time but you could not do that to your heart and that's why, you peel yourself away from him muttering you have a long day tomorrow and should turn in for the night. Mingyu walks you back into the hotel, following a few feet away, perhaps just heading back to his own room. But just in case, to make matters clear, you tell him one more time that you have no intention of picking up from where this messy relationship was left off. He says he understands.

He always understands. Every time you cancelled on him because of work commitments, he said your career was more important, he understands. Every time he was in the mood and you weren't, he said that was totally okay, he understands. 1 year ago when you told him you were catching feelings, he said given the nature of your relationship, its natural, he understands. When it was apparent that he didn't feel the same way and you proposed to end this arrangement, yet again, he understood. He always said he understood, yet you feel like he never really did. He really didn't know how just how much felt for him.

Before he leaves, just so you can stop wondering, you stop him to ask one last question. Why didn't he sleep with anyone else after you? He says he didn't want anyone else. He steps closer and says nothing ever felt like what they shared. If it were up to him, he would've never let it end. You're not sure if he means just sex or more. Either ways, your resolve breaks and you make the stupid move of pulling him into the empty lift with you, pushing him up against the wall, kissing him with a passion that was somehow still so alive between both of you.

It's miraculous, the way you managed to reach your room without taking your hands or mouths off each other. You do notice that even the scattered presence of people in the corridor didn't make Mingyu pull away from you - till a year ago he did all he could to not be seen with you. He must really need this tonight.

The moment you step into the room though, he parts from you only for long enough to kick his shoes off and strip off his dinner jacket. When you unzip your evening gown and slip it off you shoulders, Mingyu let's out a groan. He hadn't realised you were wearing garter belts underneath that, he didn't think he could possibly be more turned on right now. You expect him to kiss you once again but instead he pushes you against the wall and falls to his knees before you, running his hand down your leg, mouth hot on the insides of your thigh. Your hands struggle between running through his hair and trying to hold on to something, anything behind you. It becomes a whole lot worse when he throws a leg over his shoulder and latches his mouth over the cloth of your thong which was already barely covering anything. Not only were you already craving this man for months now, but with the mere sight of him looking up at you from between you legs, it takes barely a few ministrations of his mouth and with a shudder you fall apart.

You can feel his canines against your thigh as he smirks, glad you're still so reactive to him before letting you go, only to turn you around, your hands palming the wall. He whispers a soft fuck as he moves aside the little cloth and runs his tongue between your folds making you practically shake at the overstimulation. Sensing you need a minute, he moves his attention to your ass, placing butterfly kisses on the cheeks as his fingers work the belts of your garter, pulling it down with your stockings.

As you step out of them, you turn to him and pull him up to his feet by his collar, untying his tie as he unbuttoned his shirt. Through the most part of your arrangement with Mingyu, things mostly went his way. You'd meet whenever he was free, whenever he wanted to meet, wherever it was convenient and safe for him. Not this time. This time you wanted the upper hand and you'd take it.

Mingyu complies, watching curiously as you push him towards the bed and onto it. Taking his hands you whisper you want to try something and he nods lazily but his eyes widen as you tie his wrists together with his tie. Instructing him to scoot back, you undo his belt, pulling down the remainder of his clothes, as he leaned back against the head board. He's practically gaping at you standing at the edge of the bed, slowly taking off your bra then your thong, the remnants of your earlier orgasm leaking down your thigh, making his mouth literally go dry. It takes everything and more for Mingyu to stop himself from pinning you down and eating you out. You are all he wanted. Needed.

You get on the bed, crawling on top of him, legs on either side, your face was hovering just a little above his, grabbing his painfully hard erection. You see he's biting his lip, holding back his groans as you run your thumb over his slit, sliding on a condom which he didn't even notice you unwrap. Promising to suck him off good in a bit, something he knew you particularly enjoyed, you align him under you, slowly sinking down his length, I really really need you to be inside me right now.

Its been so long, Mingyu missed you so bad - the way you felt around him, just the sight of you so close to him, the sound of you as he practically split you open, your warmth no longer accustomed to the size of him. It makes him mad that he allowed this to happen, that he let you walk away from him. He swears he'll fix it - he will treat you so good tonight, your body would never forget him. You would never forget him. But for now, he'll let you use him however you want - you deserve it and he knows eventually, you'll cave in and he was willing to wait however long that takes.

When you finally adjust to his girth, you start moving, grinding your hips, soft whimpers leaving you and he asks if you're okay, if it feels good. You simply nod, moaning in response, and Mingyu encourages you to move however you want, struggling to keep his hands to himself instead of grabbing your hips, and slamming himself into you, hitting those sweet spots that were still committed to his memory. For now, he resorts to grabbing your boob in whatever angle he can manage only for it to be smacked away.

Hands to yourself, you can put that mouth to use.

Oh gladly.

Mingyu immediately takes a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue over it and your hands leave the headboard and thread into his hair, gripping the roots, lost in pleasure. It takes two words, Mark me, for Mingyu to finally snap out of his compliant facade, mouth, tongue, teeth, all working madly against your skin. You never used to let him mark you, it was hard to cover up when you worked but somehow today you don't care. You want him to take you in any and all ways possible, you want him to claim you - few hours of make up would take care of the rest.

You can tell his hands are itching to grab you as you pick the pace, the knot in you tightening. Pulling away from him, you lean back, one hand taking support of his thigh behind you, another rubbing circles on your clit, trying to chase the feeling in the new found angle and Mingyu thinks he might just go crazy. He loves it. He loves seeing your pretty eyes roll back for him, he loves seeing the red marks blooming on your neck and breasts, he loves the way your lips part and the moans spill. You are a masterpiece and he has been such an idiot.

He can tell by the loss of rhythm that you were close so he moves aside your hand and works your clit himself. Part of you wants to take his hands and pin them above his head and ride him to oblivion but you don't think you can, you don't think you have it in you, not when he's making you feel this good. Untying his knot, and throwing his tie away, you whisper please, begging him to help and finally, finally he takes control but much to your disappointment, he pulls you off him. Just for a second though, before he flips you over, your back hitting the bed and he's looming above you, plunging back into your heat, so fast and so deep, you almost black out right there. You beg him to keep going and he promises not to stop, groaning that you feel so good around him, you were so good for him. Within a few seconds you feel the coil snap inside you, your moans muffling against his shoulder, as he stilled, allowing you to ride out your high, feeling you clench around him in a way that made his head spin.

Come on baby, just a little more. He coos in your ear, hooking his hands around your legs, pushing your knees to your chest, ramming himself into you again and again, trying to reach his high before you were too overstimulated. But like a good girl you take it obediently, asking him if he really didn't sleep with anyone else and maybe you could consider letting him come inside you and just at the thought, Mingyu groans, emptying his load into the condom, still deep inside you.

He tries to catch his breath lying on top of you, head buried between your boobs as you softly stroke his hair. He had no idea if you were serious or if you were simply trying to rile him up to finish him off, but either ways, the first thing he's going to do the moment he steps out of here is get tested - he wants that offer to be on the table. For now though, he'll take what he can which was far more than what he thought he deserved - he would make up for everything. Anyways, the night was far from over - you promised him a blowjob and he was dying to taste you again.

After a very very long night, you wake up the next morning to Mingyu softly shaking you, whispering your name. Last night before you passed out in his arms, you made up your mind to one of two situations the next morning. Either Mingyu would be gone before you wake up, proving last night was indeed just a temporary distraction. Or he's ordered breakfast to the room as usual and was waiting for you, which meant nothing changed for him - he was still looking for the same thing from you.

Instead he looks like he came fresh out of the shower, and behind him, your suitcases are packed and stacked. Seeing you fully awake he flashes you a sweet smile, dropping a kiss on your forehead, reminding you that you had a flight to Tokyo soon. He tells you to freshen up while he brings your luggage down and helps you check out, and then he'll drive you to the airport. Looking at the watch, realising just how late you are, you panic and hurry to the bathroom as he leaves the room. When you finally make your way downstairs, he's sitting at the breakfast area, beckoning you over with two plates of food. Walking over to him, you smile.

But when Wonwoo sees you at the wedding, its a whole different story.

Is he supposed to feel angry, is he supposed to feel upset, Wonwoo has no idea. The way that guy is talking to you and the way you don't seem to mind, it makes him more uncomfortable than he can explain. He looks at the back of that greasy slimeball's head - the sheer audacity to assume he's even half as good enough for someone like you. But what can he do? It's not like he had the right to say anything.

Honestly, you are not the least bit interested in the overly gelled hair, child of a man before of you who was clearly trying to get into your pants. You're more interested in Wonwoo's reaction, rather in his lack of reaction to the, frankly, quite embarrassing act going on here. Truth be told, you're a little disappointed when he walks away.

Earlier today when you were getting dressed, you wondered if Wonwoo would attend the wedding - the town was a small place so of course everyone was invited to the pastor's daughter's wedding but Wonwoo was a busy man, particularly on Fridays. Seeing him here now though, you realise things have changed too much - his schedule, your relationship with him and the way he looks at you, it's all different now. You excuse yourself away from the twice your age neanderthal and walk out of the church, wondering why these changes were affecting you.

You were the one who ended your little arrangement almost a year ago. When you realised that Wonwoo's gestures were more than just what fuck buddies did for each other, you confronted him about it. He confessed he was starting to catch feelings, that it took him a while to realise but he thinks he's falling for you. You couldn't have that happen. You had made it very clear to him in the beginning itself - you didn't have the time for a relationship. You were still facing your early day struggles, trying to make a name for yourself in the modelling industry and you couldn't afford to be in a relationship. It would have been unfair to whoever you were with to only receive a part of you and never in whole because you didn't have the capacity to indulge another person in your life.

So rather than continuing to see him and constantly reminding him of what he can't have, you decided it was better to set him free and remove every trace of yourself from his life. And you did, apologising and disappearing over a year ago.

Seeing him at the wedding now though, was a bump in the road you didn't expect. You wanted him to move on, you wanted him to forget you and clearly he had done both, yet it bothered you. Weren't you worthy of at least a greeting? For the sake of being courteous? Sure you missed having sex with Wonwoo, god did he know your body like no one else, but you also just missed having his presence in your life. You feel unfairly stripped of something that wasn't even yours but it's fair enough, you left him. You don't get to walk back whenever you want, that's not your choice to make.

You turn around to go back in to find your girlfriends again when Wonwoo steps out of the doors, adjusting his glasses. You're surprised when he smiles at you, walking up, hands in his pockets. You smile too, taken aback by the interaction, as he strikes conversation about the weather. He also talks about the wedding, the groomsmen, the chaos with the misplaced ring that happened earlier - he's not making more or less conversation than usual, it's as though for him, nothing changed. When the topic of the guy earlier comes up, he laughs saying he was watching and would have swooped in if it looked like you needed any help. It's only when his phone rings that he excuses himself, promising to catch up later. You really do see it now. He was no longer in love with you.

As he walks off, Wonwoo realises that he was most definitely, still very much in love with you. It surprises him because over the last year he had been thinking of you less and less. He didn't resent you for turning him down - you always had the clarity he didn't. It was always meant to be about sex, he was the fool who emotionally invested himself. After you were gone, he took the time to really think and realign his life choices, pushing you to the lower ranks on his list. He thought he did a good job, in fact, he hadn't thought about you at all in the last 3 months but seeing you again today was like the dam he built to bottle everything in had finally cracked and burst open.

Sometimes Wonwoo hated how he felt for you. You were not some magical addition that came into his life and changed it for good, you were a part of it for as long as he could remember. As children the two of you didn't interact much - you lived a street down his house, he went to an all boys school and you to an all girls, your paths never crossed. He had heard of you from his friends though, you had quite the reputation for dating around but he only met you in high school when you were in a relationship with the captain of his school's football team. Back then Wonwoo wasn't the least bit interested in you. Sure he thought you were beautiful but he had his eyes on that cutie in the robotics team. After graduating high school, he didn't see you again, until 3 years ago, that night...

A part of you wishes that night never happened, then today it would make sense if Wonwoo was talking to you and treating you like you were just another acquaintance. Okay, maybe he doesn't love anymore but was he still not the least bit interested in you? Here you are, trying your best to suppress your every urge watching him in his stupid white shirt with those stupid rolled up sleeves and that stupid vest sinching his waist. Did he not feel the same for you?

Apparently not. Evidently all he's being is a gentleman. He rescued you from that guy from earlier on the dance floor by truly swooping in and taking you into his arms, only to politely let you go when the other man backed off. He offered to hold your flowers and help you with your dress as you walked out of the church, finally done for the day. He even drove you home, stopping right in front of your house, wishing you a good night.

You however didn't step out of the car, confessing that you didn't want to face your mother tonight - you were in no mood for a discussion on why everyone in the town but you seemed to be getting married. He first asked about crashing with any of your other friends for the night but when somehow all of them seemed improbable, he offered to take you to his house.

You had been to his house before, many many times in fact, during those two years. Though you were both based in Seoul and this town was about 2 hours away, on some weekends, Wonwoo would drive you here to see your mother. Since his parents lived with him in Seoul, his house here used to be empty and free for the two of you to fuck around whenever needed.

When you walk in, nothing much has changed, it's all just how you remember it. You wish it was the same between you and Wonwoo too but it isn't. He leads you to the guest room, handing you a fresh set of towels, mentioning some of your clothes from when you were last here are still in the cupboard if you want to change. Before you can ask him why he still has them, he disappears into his room, door softly shutting behind him. You wash up, looking through all that you left behind, each skimpier than the next. You settle with a pink satin set that's barely covering any of your chest, the shorts went way too high up your ass. Unfortunately that's the largest piece of fabric you own here.

You slip under the warm covers but somehow sleep is just not coming to you. There's too many overwhelming emotions - a strange sadness regarding Wonwoo, an undeniable loneliness seeing the happy couple in the wedding, and in general, a weird sense of purposelessness just suffocating you. Tossing and turning till you just can't take it anymore, you make your way downstairs to the kitchen, grab a snack that you know you shouldn't be having and sink into the couch.

You didn't think you were being too loud but about a minute later, Wonwoo makes his way down in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses, a worried look on his face. When his eyes fall on you though, you can see them slightly widen and his Adams apple bob. Maybe you had a little effect on him after all.....

You apologise and claim you weren't sleepy so he joins you with a snack of his own, sitting down on the couch opposite you. It's like the days the two of you used to hangout - just chilling in each other presence, engaged in casual conversation, laughing about the world around that always seemed so weird. Today too you talk about your school days and childhood in this town. You talk about where your other friends from high school were settled now. You talk about the two of you somehow managing to successfully chase your dreams. You talk about when the two of you met for the first time.

It was when you were flying to Paris for your first ever international show. Luck was clearly not on your side because there was some terrible mishap with the engine and fixing it would take all night. As you sat with the rest of the passengers, the cabin crew and pilots walked by and your eyes fell on the last man in the line. He looked so familiar, like someone you knew back home but you didn't want to assume. To your surprise, after a while, he sits down next to you, having changed out of his uniform into a simple tee and jeans, glasses sitting on his nose. It's then that you immediately recognise him, of course it was Wonwoo, the infamous gamer boy.

You both end up engaging in deep conversation, first over coffee, then over dinner and then over a walk around the hotel the airline had assigned to you for the night. There was a strange tension between you two, maybe because of the mix of a familiarity and novelty and it was strong enough to have you moaning under him that night in his hotel room. And also the following day in your hotel room in Paris.

You had parted ways after that, simply exchanging socials until one day about a month later, he messaged you that like you, he too was in Milan. You promised yourself to behave and that you would just meet for a meal. But the moment you turned up in that low V neck black dress of yours and saw him in that black shirt that fit him oh so well, you knew neither of you were really here for dinner so you both immediately headed back to your room, getting tangled in the sheets, fucking each other all night instead. The third time was in Seoul itself, during the after party of a brand launch. That time the two of you barely waited till you reached a room - he made you fall apart around him in his car till the windows fogged up before he took you home and had you again.

After that, it was pretty evident that the two of you liked having sex with each other. You don't really remember who suggested the idea but you do remember discussing how as of now, relationships were more of a burden than a pleasure and that being fuck buddies was probably the best idea.

That went on for 2 years. You'd call on each other whenever you were free, sometimes at home, sometimes in other countries when your schedules coincided - those were so much more thrilling. You did actually spend time with each other outside sex too - you'd get take outs at night, you'd take the city tour bus together, you hung out at clubs. It was all going great till that night when you ended it.

To your surprise, Wonwoo softly says it was a little unfair of you to end things that day. You might have thought you were protecting him from being hurt but he was no child. He didn't expect you to like him back nor did he want to change the nature of your relationship - he too was not willing to be in a relationship if you remembered right, he flew too frequently to dedicate time for anyone. You did remember, you knew, yet you were scared of somehow damaging him if you allowed yourself to stick around him for your own selfish reasons. He says he wished you let him figure things out on his own rather than making the decision for him like he was some irresponsible high schooler and not a mature adult.

For a minute you don't know what to say. He was right, you did what you thought was best, never really taking into consideration what he thought. In your attempt to save him from pain, you had stupidly ended up hurting him because of a decision you made over a split second.

Sitting up, you apologise. You were inconsiderate and hasty and you shouldn't have been. Honestly, you never wanted it end, you were in fact happiest when you were with him. Even that day, you had come to him with something specific in mind.....

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow in question but you shake your head. After he encourages you to tell him a few times, you finally, softly whisper and it's followed by dead silence. You start panicking and to make things worse, he excuses himself, gets up and leaves you there, all alone. Bringing your knees to your chest, you bury your face in it - why why why did you have to open your mouth?

He returns though, clearing his throat to let you know he's here and when you look up surprised, your lips part in awe and insides clench in desire. He's wearing his uniform.

You had only ever seen him in it once, specifically the day you first saw him. He was always incredibly cautious and careful with it but your mind had envisioned him taking you wearing that way too many times. The day you left him, you thought of bringing up the idea but the conversation had spiraled into something else entirely.

You mutter that it's unfair that all you get to do is look and he cocks his head at you, running his eyes down your body. Of course. You too are dressed in that pink satin set that drives him absolutely crazy, and all he got to do was look. He mentions that this uniform was old and he doesn't really care for it and you echo his words - your pajamas didn't matter either. Somehow in those few words you've exchanged intentions and permissions and before you know it, hands around his neck, you are kissing him, hot and heavy, months of need pouring in. Wonwoo groans into it, hands moving from your hips to your ass, finally getting his hands on you the way he's been dying to.

With a tap on your thigh, he instructs you to jump and you do, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you up to his room, your mouth working hard on his neck, kissing, sucking, marking him. When he reaches his room, he throws you on the bed and stands back, simply looking down at you, practically fucking you with his eyes. You feel exposed under his gaze but not ashamed as he points to his nightstand with his head and there you see the familiar sight of your hair tie, sitting on it, like it always does. Maybe not everything had changed.

As you reach for it, a warm feeling blooms in your chest which quickly turns searing hot when you notice Wonwoo slowly starting to unbutton his suit jacket. He's purposely torturously slow, letting that feeling between your legs burn with anticipation and so you decide to play a game of your own. Pulling your hair into a high pony, just how he liked it, you quickly strip out of your shorts and spread your legs letting him see. Wonwoo truly had the kindest eyes and the sweetest smile so when they darken hungrily and his mouth presses in a hard line, you feel triumphant, knowing you are successfully pushing him to the edge. But he simply continues to unbutton, and then take off his tie, leaning against the bed post. You proceed to run your fingers between your folds, rubbing circles on your clit before sliding them down and inside you. Now he's mad.

Stop.

Make me.

But he doesn't do anything. Wonwoo wasn't usually very tolerant of your brat behaviour, he loved to put you in your place but today, he wanted to let you have your way. He would deal with you his way after you've played out your fantasy - afterall he wasn't going to let this night get over any time soon. He simply watches as you pump your fingers faster, thumb working your clit, head thrown back, pretty moans leaving you. You're so fucking hot, Wonwoo wishes he could tattoo this sight on the front of his brain. He grabs his camera from the shelf nearby and clicks a picture just as you pull your fingers out and frantically rub your clit, feeling your high crash against your walls as you clench around nothing.

You're surprised he let you go this far - you were hoping he'd put his fingers in you, they always felt so much better. Instead he's just watching his capture of you in the camera you love so much - he always took such flattering pictures of you. Sighing softly, surely thinking of what all he could do to you, he unzips his pants.

Mouth first.

You know he wants you to get on your knees but you smile at him sweetly, further spreading your legs.

Sure, you can taste.

Wonwoo laughs. You've become so audacious suddenly, he's going to have so much fun ruining you later. He's about to take his jacket off when you softly shake your head at him. He complies, getting to his knees, pulling you by your legs to the edge of the bed, and instantly running his tongue between the folds. Fuck. You let out the most euphoric sigh, sinking into the sheets, gripping them. You forgot how good he was with his mouth.

Wonwoo forgot how good you taste, groaning as he savoured you, mouth latching around your folds. He loves the way you keep trying to grind your hips for friction, forcing him to hold you down by the thigh. He loves the sounds you make when he let his hand travel up your body, under that flimsy silk, and grabs your boob, squeezing it. He loves when you rake your fingers through his hair and throw your head back, moaning his name. He thinks he loves you even more when you come around his tongue, and look at him, breathless and flushed as you prop yourself on your elbows. He thinks he loves you the most when you grab his camera from the bed before can and take a picture of him, smiling happily at him, smiling because of him.

The sight of Wonwoo between your legs, sitting on his ankles in that uniform of his, glasses slightly fogged up, chin and lips shining with your arousal... it might just be the sexiest thing you've ever seen. You sit up, leaving the camera behind, taking his face into your hands and kissing him, tasting yourself all over, as he dived his tongue into your mouth. Not leaving you, he strips his jacket off his shoulders, whispering against your mouth.

Knees.

You're about to get off the bed and down in front of him when he grips your thighs, stopping you. He will have your mouth later, right now he really really need to be buried inside you. He watches as you obey, scrambling back and turning over, getting onto your knees, ass up, just the way he likes it. He strips out of his pants, pumping his raging erection in his fist - he could come simply at the sight of you, waiting for him like this. He takes another picture, committing the scene to memory because who knew how things would take a turn after tonight? He had to seize every moment.

He makes sure to ask if he needs to use a condom. The two of you always used it with others, never with each other but given the last few months... you shake your head - you've been safe. Knowing that he has too, he mutters a soft good girl before easing into you slowly, groaning as you try to adjust to his girth, rubbing soft circles on your ass, encouragingly. When your whimpers die down and you beg him to move, he does, gripping your hips and thrusting, slow at first but quickly picking the pace when you ask for it.

You feel yourself nearly drool at how good he feels buried inside you, so deep, hitting all the right spots he had discovered not long after you started hooking up. You too know his sensitive points so though you're barely able to breath, you tease him saying it seems like he's lost his touch. Instantly he plants a leg in the mattress and pushes your face down into the pillows as he holds both your hands behind, against your lower back and goes feral.

Oh you had been waiting for this. The way he pounds into you is wild, with the amount of brute force he knows you can take and he knows you like it because your practically leaking down your thighs. When you feel the pressure building inside, he lets your hands go, allowing you to bring it to your clit and rub yourself, carnal sounds leaving your mouth as he fucked you faster. Within seconds, hearing his ragged breath instructing you to come, you fall apart around him, moaning loudly into the sheets, breathless. Trying not to overstimulate you, he slows down, watching almost hypnotised at the way he buries himself into you.

You hear the click of the camera one more time before he leans down, softly placing a trail of kisses up your back, reaching your ear. You tell him you can take it and encourage him to continue and finish off, but he whispers.

I'm sorry.....I don't think I can stop loving you.

You freeze.

Wonwoo senses it and he understands, pulling out of you, and you turn around to look at him. At the Wonwoo who had seen both your body and your soul at its barest. Wonwoo who was not just the guy you slept with every other night but also the one you sent your favourite memes, paragraphs of rants and deepest worries to. Wonwoo who knew exactly what take out to get for you, which movie you watched with all your attention and which you liked to be distracted in, when you needed sex and when you needed him. Wonwoo who sometimes knew you better than yourself yet somehow the both of you didn't realise what you felt for him.

He's utterly confused as you take off your top and push his unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders. When you lie on you back, hold your hand out and whisper, come on baby, don't you want to fill me up, Wonwoo feels like he just died and entered heaven. You pull him down by his neck, kissing him fiercely, as he aligns himself and enters you once again, groaning into your mouth. Running your nails down his back, you beg him to cum inside you, that all you want to feel is him and within a few more strokes he shudders, groaning as he empties himself in you.

You didn't even realise when the two of you fell asleep. You vaguely remember him cleaning you up, untying your hair and softly running his fingers through it. You remember removing his glasses, kissing his cheek and curling up in his warmth. And that's how you wake up, held his arms, his breath soft against your head.

He wakes up to you reaching for his camera, holding it up and clicking a picture of you lying on his chest. You show it to him excited as a new found warmth blooms in his chest, looking at you fit against him so perfectly. When you slide off the bed and wear his shirt, pulling your hair into a bun, he doesn't ask anything but his mind is full of questions. You tell him you need water and he offers to get it for you but you refuse saying you'll be back in a second, you still didn't get the chance to blow him anyway. Wonwoo smiles as you walk away.

A/n - I overwrote but hey, I wanted to write fuck buddies who were not in college and had different professions, they needed lot of back story okay.

[alilaro]

small personal update

.

taking a break from being so intensely involved with volturi fandom has been a really good thing for me I think.

I still think about and draw them daily—to me they are like my own characters now, with long much I have changed them, and how much it has changed me since being a preteen.

But I think I got so obsessed with posting, being liked, and being a weird persona of myself that I just burnt myself out. Especially from 2017—2019, I was just a mess, and addicted to the praise and attention I got from posting non-stop, and making content almost purely to please others (which I now realize was a way of escaping the nightmare that was my previously incredibly abusive household, and the years of neglect that came with it.)

And now, since 2022 I've been on a hiatus, and I think that was the right decision for me.

its been really hard in some ways. After escaping my toxic father, the shock and grief of it all was so so much for me to handle. All those years, my entire life, locked in a room, guilted and fear-mongered into complete and never-ending isolation; to finally be free from that was both liberating but the hardest thing I've ever done, and it crushed me, it drained everything from me, including my one tether: my art.

i struggled with it for a while, and still do. i still only draw the bare minimum, but when I draw now its for me. there's no more 'cant draw That because its Cringe'. theres no constant, nagging guilt from not posting something in over a month. i don't have to make excuses, or grovel manically for imagined people to forgive me—as if not posting is some cardinal sin.

i just draw for fun, because I feel like it. because it makes me happy. :-)

[writingonjorvik]

What did you mean you were "biased" about the Elli & Helena stuff? You said it in your tags, but how can you be biased about that?

Ehhhhhhh, alright, might as well. This is copy-pasted from the ROJ Discord:

"I figure y’all are all due an update since I said I’d be back by now and ROJ has gone pretty quiet. And with some recent discussions going on in the community, discussing ROJ came back up.

I wanna tread carefully with this because I don’t want saying any of this to feel like I’m trying to take the spotlight off people more directly involved. Because while I did miss an opportunity here that I’m very sad about, other folks lost actual jobs and that feels self centered to focus on me. But I’m also not gonna lie and say that seeing some of the community response has me hopeful that maybe the community could motivate the team to change their minds.

That’s a bit vague so let’s be direct. You may have seen recently that SSE has shuttered their publishing department from Elli and Helena talking about how there won’t be more comics or books. I knew this happened months ago because, surprise, I’d been in contract negotiations with SSE to make ROJ an official IP. I’d been kinda tongue and cheek about this, it was an open secret with friends since there was no contract yet. And there never ended up being one unfortunately. When the team shuttered the department, I got a very kind email from the department head and that’s been the end of it.

This is why 1.1 got delayed for so long. I’d been hoping that instead of 1.1, ROJ would move into official production and get a relaunch. So I kept pushing off the release of what was arguably an already ready version of 1.1 until things got signed and we moved forward. 1.1 released very shortly before I got the news. Just had a feeling things were changing, and I was right.

All of this has made coming back to ROJ difficult. I back burnered it originally to focus on other projects until contracts were done but ended up a lot more painful than that after nearly two years of trying to make a deal happen. I don’t begrudge that being the time these things take to produce well or SSE for it taking that long, but it is still two years of my life that I spent excited that maybe I’d get to bring more lore and worldbuilding to this franchise I adore, and a platform for all of y’all to share your ideas as well! ROJ was never going to be true canon but it was a fan’s dream come true. I’ve been playing since international launch, this was bringing every community fan head canon to the table. In some small way at least.

Again, of any people who deserve attention during this discussion about the department shuttering, it’s Elli and Helena. They’re amazingly talented and they deserved better than what they got. If there ever is a return of the publishing department, it should be for their works.

But the discussion has brought it all back up for me too and I thought I’d at least talk a little about why ROJ has come to a standstill. It’s hard to go back to working on the system after two years of talks and because of the short notice that things rolled out, not even some closure on running ROJ as a fan project. That’s how serious things had been, I wasn’t getting resources to continue ROJ as a fan project cause I’d been told the team was committed to seeing it officially published. It’s kinda hard to come back to that and the hiatus was a good enough excuse for me to just not.

This all is very bittersweet, and I should say, I’m not mad at the team or the folks I worked with during that time. It would have been an amazing opportunity and I’m grateful for them working so hard to get ROJ out for so long. But I’m also just sad about the whole thing and I don’t see ROJ getting more attention until I can process that.

Please show your support for Elli and Helena. Their works are amazing and they deserve more support from the community. And if you haven’t already, follow their other works too!

Y’all have been the best and most supportive community and ROJ wouldn’t be where it is without you. I’m so grateful to have met you all. ROJ may come back one day. But we’ll see."

Again, I've been hesitant to talk about this because, mostly, I don't want to take the spotlight off the people who were more seriously impacted. ROJ didn't get a contract, I'm not in the lurch like this closure left other folks because I hadn't adjusted to making ROJ my full time work yet. I also don't want to burn bridges in the event that the department ever returns, which is why I've tried to focus this discussion on the creators and supporting them over pushes to reestablish the department (although I appreciate those as well). I would love still to make the official ROJ transition happen, but I don't want that so badly that I'm not trying to do my best to support these creators post the closure, and realistically, y'all should be too. That's why I made that post with all the resources.

Hope that clears up my "bias."

[dantediscoversfic]

Chapter 37: Not The End

During the last few days before we left for Chicago, my room was almost as blank and empty as Ari’s. My bed was still there, along with my empty bookshelves and desk and comfy reading chair, but mostly everything else that made the room mine had been boxed up in storage or packed up to take with us. It was kind of weird, but kind of peaceful too. I sort of understood why Ari liked his minimalist (i.e. nonexistent) interior decorating strategy. My head felt clearer those last few days than it had since the accident. A grad student was going to be living in my room next year and I made sure to leave a little note for them warning that birds liked to hang out on the window sill but it wasn’t a big deal – they were completely harmless but sometimes a little noisy.

The day before we left, my parents and I went over to Ari’s for dinner. I know that our parents had all met each other before because of the accident, but this was the first time we were all together purely socially, like one big family. Even though the occasion was sad, I wasn’t sad that night, not really. I liked how well our parents got along. My dad and Ari’s dad hit it off like gangbusters and spent the whole night drinking beer (blech) and talking politics. Our moms cooked together and talked in Spanish.

After dinner, Ari and I hung out on the porch. We weren’t talking much but I was okay with it. It was peaceful, like my blank room. I took mental snapshots of all of us together in my head to remember for forever.

“Your sketch pad is under my bed. Will you get it for me?” Ari said, out of nowhere.

It took me by surprise. I’d almost forgotten about the sketch pad I’d given him in the hospital. I had a flashback to how he looked that day hooked up to his hospital bed, with his double casts and banged up face and cloudy, pain-filled eyes. My stomach clenched at the memory. He was so much better now, I reassured myself. His arm was healed, he had crutches and not a wheelchair, he was going to be fine. But it didn’t make the queasy feeling in my stomach go away.

I almost told him I didn’t want to get the sketch pad. Showing people my artwork still embarrassed me most of the time. But I had given the sketchbook to him as a gift and it would be weird of me to refuse to look at it now with him.

I nodded and went inside to his room to get it. It was right under the bed, like he said it would be. His journal was under the bed, too. When I saw it, my heart slammed into my chest. I picked up his journal, just held it in my hands for a few seconds. It had a soft leather cover, smooth to the touch. Almost without intending to, I opened it up to a random page. My eyes quickly scanned the words:

I don’t like being fifteen.

I didn’t like being fourteen.

I didn’t like being thirteen.

I didn’t like being twelve.

I didn’t like being eleven.

Ten was good. I liked being ten. I don’t know why but I had a very good year when I was in fifth grade.

The fifth grade was very good. Mrs. Pendragon was a great teacher and for some reason, everyone seemed to like me. A good year. An excellent year. Fifth grade. But now, at fifteen, well, things are a little awkward. My voice is doing funny things and I keep running into things. My mom says my reflexes are trying to keep up with the fact that I’m growing so much.

I don’t care much for this growing thing.

My body’s doing things I can’t control and I just don’t like it.

I snapped his journal shut without reading any more and tucked it hastily back under the bed. I felt like a criminal. My heart was still beating so fast. I shouldn’t have just done that. I went to the bathroom and put some cool water on my face. It’s not that I didn’t desperately want to know what was inside Ari’s head. I did more than anything. I wanted to know if he still hated being fifteen and what other changes his body had gone through that he would never ever talk to me about. I wanted to know if he’d truly forgiven me, if he thought we’d be friends when I came back, if there was an inkling of a chance he liked me in the same way as I liked him. If he loved me, too. But it wasn't right, reading his journal without him knowing. I couldn’t betray his confidence like that ever again. His thoughts and trust had to be freely given, like I’d given him my sketchbook.

After my cheeks had cooled down, I went back outside to the porch and handed him my sketchbook. I was ashamed to look him in the eye.

“I have a confession to make,” he said.

“What?” I asked. My heart was still going wildly fast. I had no idea what he might say. Had he read my journal, too?

“I haven’t looked at it.”

Oh. I didn’t know what to say. My feelings were a little hurt that he’d never bothered to look at what I’d given him. But considering what I’d just done, I really had no ground to stand on for what constitutes being a good friend or not.

“Can we look at them together?” he said.

I didn't say yes, but I didn't say no, either. I was caught in some sort of silent limbo. He opened the sketchbook. The first drawing was a self-portrait of me reading, which I thought was a bit pretentious in hindsight. The next one was of my dad reading, which was not so bad. Then there was another self-portrait, more close up, just of my face.

“You look sad in this one.”

“Maybe I was sad that day.”

I remembered the day I drew that one. It was right after my parents had told me we’d probably be moving to Chicago.

“Are you sad now?”

Yes. Yes and no. Yes, I was sad to be leaving. But meeting and becoming friends with Ari this summer made me happier than I’d been in the longest time. I didn’t answer his question and we kept flipping through the book. We came to the sketches I’d done of Ari in his room, the same day I’d given him the drawing of his rocking chair. There were five or six sketches of him sitting on his bed, reading. Some close ups of his hands and his eyes. One of him sleeping. My face flushed as Ari traced his fingers over the page. I was a little embarrassed at how seriously he was studying each and every picture. I was glad he couldn’t peer into my head and know what I’d been thinking while I was drawing him. It was too embarrassing. But I was honored and a little humbled, too, to share this part of me with him.

“They’re honest,” Ari said.

“Honest?”

“Honest and true. You’re going to be a great artist someday.”

“Someday,” I said. I thought I might cry, but I didn’t. I cleared my throat and said, “Listen, you don’t have to keep the sketchbook.”

“You gave it to me. It’s mine.”

He looked at me and the tension I’d felt since I snuck a peak in his journal finally subsided. We looked through the remaining sketches and sat on the porch together as night fell and the sky changed from blue to dusty pink to orange. The air smelled like a future rainstorm.

My parents came outside and told us it was time to head out, we had a big day tomorrow. My dad gave Ari a kiss on the cheek and my mom touched his chin in that inscrutable way she has.

I hugged Ari.

He hugged me back.

It was a little awkward with his crutches, but I don’t think either of us cared.

I touched the back of his neck, his hair. It was as soft as I always thought it would be.

“See you in a few months,” I said into his neck.

“Yeah,” he said.

“I’ll write,” I said.

I didn’t cry, not then. I didn’t cry until very late that night when I was alone in my empty room listening to the wild rain beat down. In that moment, holding my best friend close to me, feeling our bodies aligned, breathing him in and breathing in the smell of my last summer night in El Paso, I was the happiest boy in the universe. Because I knew I’d be back here again, with Ari. I knew this wasn’t the end of us.

[archichilled]

Together Again

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Angst. Cursing.

A/N: I have returned to cause you all pain. NO but honestly, I apologize for such a long hiatus. I've been facing massive writer's block and with school just finishing, I wanted to take some time off so I might be little rusty in my writing. I'm getting back into the rhythm but I still need to come up with new ideas so please be patient with me and thank you all so much for being so supportive. Also, if I missed anything for the warnings, let me know!

“Detka, please, you know I can’t just stay here while everyone else tries to save the world.” Natasha pleaded with you as she desperately tried to take hold of your hand, but you weren’t hearing her. You’ve had enough of her excuses.

Her line of work had gone in between your relationship for more times than you can count and it’s caused both of you to grow distant from each other. It’s been hard enough with her going off through missions and not coming back for months, but now she was a wanted criminal. Her going on the run did little to help your relationship and you don’t know how much more you can take.

“Y/N, you know if there was another way I would—” “Save me the bullshit, Natasha!” You seethed as you stopped in front of your bed, arms crossed over your chest in defense as you looked at her with resentment. “I’ve had enough of your excuses! You can’t make it to our date because you have a secret mission you have to go to? Fine! You forget our anniversary because of how busy you’ve been trying to track down your other comrades? Sure, I don’t give a damn! But now this?! You’re fighting a war you can’t win!”

Natasha shakes her head, eyes flowing endlessly with tears as she looks down at you with a pleading expression. “I’m only trying to protect you, kotenok. I need to do this for us.”

“I don’t need a fucking hero, Natasha!” You exploded, your own tears seeping through your tired eyes. “What I need is a partner who’s actually here for me!”

“And you will have me, moya lyubov. Once all of this is over, you’ll have all of me.” She tries to reason out, looking into your eyes but you merely avoid hers. You let out a bitter laugh, collapsing to the bed, and you grip onto your hair in frustration. “And what if this never ends, Natasha? What then?”

“It will, kotenok.” Natasha consoled, kneeling in front of you, taking hold of your hands and pressing gentle kisses across your knuckles. “I’ll make sure it’ll end. For you, and for me.”

You sat there in silence for who knows how long as you let the sorrow in your heart consume you. You’ve been so sick and tired of this life, so sick and tired of not waking up to see her face in the morning, tired of never being able to hold her as she sleeps, and never being able to love her like you’ve wanted to. You’ve put your life on hold to make room for Natasha, and yet she’s never there.

“I can’t do this anymore, Talia.” You choke out, shoulders shuddering with sobs as you finally match your gaze with hers and you can instantly see the broken look she holds in her eyes.

Natasha swallows a lump in her throat as she feels a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she shakes her head in disbelief and she searches for any hesitance in your eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t keep putting my life on hold for you anymore.” You mumble, sighing to yourself, and you look at her with broken eyes. “I can’t keep loving someone who isn’t here.”

“But I—” Natasha’s sentence dies down in her throat as she watches you slip the silver ring from your finger and you hand it to her. “I can’t, Natasha. I love you, but loving you has killed me inside.”

When those words left your lips, Natasha’s entire world had shattered and she felt the air being knocked right out of her lungs. She looks at you for what felt like an eternity, begging whatever higher being there is for you to take back your words, but you never did.

So, with what strength Natasha had left, she wordlessly got up from where she knelt and she walked out of the door.

You didn’t sleep that night. Or the next few nights after.

That was the last time you ever got to see Natasha.

————-

“It’s been so hard without you, Talia.” You say with a bitter smile on your lips, tears pricking your eyes as you knelt down to arrange the flowers and gifts that had adorned her gravestone. The stinging in your chest grew more as the words engraved on the stone revealed themselves to you.

Natasha Romanoff. 

Daughter. Sister. Avenger.

The embossed Black Widow insignia taunted you as you brushed your fingertips along its jagged surface. Wordlessly, you wracked your brain trying to recall the last conversation you had with her, desperate to recall the sound of her voice, but only the sounds of the leaves dancing with the wind fill your ears. The only other thing that could be heard were the sobs that came from your own mouth.

“I wish I didn’t let you walk out the door that night.” You whimper. “I wish I stopped you.”

You knew in your heart that nothing could have stopped Natasha from walking out that door— regardless of how things ended between the two of you— with the fate of the world in their hands you knew all too well how she would do anything to save it. But you still wish you had tried harder.

The guilt you carried that night laid heavy in your heart, the sight of her broken as she walked away haunting your mind to this day. It was your fault she walked out of your life that night, and you could only ever wish that things had ended differently.

Five years. It had been five years since the blip happened. It had been five years since Thanos had won against Earth’s mightiest heroes. Everyone’s lives had changed, half of the world was dusted away and nothing felt the same.

But to you, five years felt like five seconds. And the sorrow of losing Natasha felt as strong as the night you let her walk out of your life.

You looked for her after finding out the truth of the blip, thinking that they had finally won the battle, hoping that there would finally be a chance for you, wishing that maybe you two would finally be able to live the life you’ve both been dreaming of— but fate had played a sick trick on both of you.

When you managed to contact Clint, all he could tell you was that they had lost Natasha. He also told you that Vision and Tony had passed away, but you were far too distraught at the loss of her for anything else to register in your mind. You begged him to tell you what happened, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you the details. The only thing he said was, “All you need to know is that she saved the world.”

You’ve never been able to move on since then. Peace was nonexistent as you tried to go on without Natasha, never being fully able to cope with her death since you don’t know what happened. You were desperate, but no one was giving you any answers.

And now here you stand at the foot of her grave. They were never able to retrieve her body, it was just a headstone adorned with flowers and gifts from those who looked up to her.

“I’m sorry, Talia.” You cried as you knelt in front of her tombstone, clutching on to it like a lifeline as sobs wracked your entire body. “I should never have told you all those things I said that night. I’m so sorry. Please come back to me. Come home to me, Talia.”

Nothing but silence answered you, the wind taunting your agony as it picked up its speed and all you could hear were your own regrets and the only thing you could feel was the all-consuming pain in your heart.

Too engrossed in your own heartache, the distant sound of wisps and footsteps crunching against the leaves became a mere buzz in your mind. 

But the feeling of someone watching you has sent you on high alert and you turn around to see a face you haven’t seen since Steve and Tony’s fight.

You were frozen in place as you looked at her, her auburn hair and red clothing bringing a nostalgic feeling in your heart. “W-Wanda?”

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Y/N?” She questioned, voice gentle as she stepped closer to you, and the wisps around her disappear as she pockets her hands. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I’m sorry for your loss as well.” You choke out, your throat feeling like sandpaper and you look up at her. “I heard about Vision. It must’ve been hard for you as well.”

You expected a sorrowful look on Wanda’s face, but she had looked far happier than you could’ve ever expected, and she shakes her head at you. “You don’t need to worry about me, my friend. I’ve learned to cope with my loss.”

With your brows furrowed and confusion littering your mind, questions had erupted in your head as you tried to figure out how she was so put-together after the loss of her own love. “Wh-What? What do you mean? And what are you doing here? I heard you were in some place called Westview?”

“I came to visit my old comrade.” She explains and she places a single flower on Natasha’s grave before she turns to you with a smile. “It just so happens that our paths have crossed. Maybe this is the universe’s way of making up for what it has taken from you.”

“Wanda, what the hell are you talking about?” You hesitated, alarm bells ringing in your head as Wanda’s green eyes turn a deep scarlet red and she offers her hand out to you. “Come to Westview with me. I can give back what the world unfairly took away from you.”

With anger bubbling up in your chest, you shove her hand away and you push yourself up from the ground. “If this is some sick fucking joke, I don’t have the time for it!”

The witch in front of you remains composed as your sudden outburst takes her aback momentarily and she merely smiled at you, hand still outstretched ready for you to take. “No jokes, no tricks, and no lies— just an offer to an old friend.”

You were about to argue, but the sincerity in her features causes you to hesitate, and you stare at her hand. You knew something was wrong, something about this whole situation didn’t feel right, and you knew you shouldn’t go with her.

But Wanda was a friend, she was a close companion of Natasha and a valuable asset to their team. She would never lead you purposely on the wrong path, would she?

You let out a sigh and you look into her eyes. “If— If I go with you, I get my Natasha back?”

“You do. And you get to live the life you’ve always wanted with her. You get to love her like you’ve always wanted to. No missions taking her away from you, no hero duties cutting in on your time, and no idiotic wars to fight.” Wanda claimed, red flurries once again emanating from her, and they slowly start to surround both of you. “Just you and Natasha. You and your love.”

“Fine.” You give in and you nod your head. “Take me to her.”

The moment your hand met with Wanda’s, you had felt a sharp pain in the back of your head and the red smoke that surrounded you had dispersed as you were dragged somewhere else. It had all happened so quickly, your mind barely even able to register everything that had sped by you, and all the overwhelming sights had caused you to pass out.

When your eyes had opened once more, you were met with the sight of a black and white living room, with your skin and everything around you looking much the same. 

You looked around, seeing what seemed like a suburban house in a peaceful neighborhood— a big living room connected to the kitchen and dining area, a big open front yard, and a white picket fence.

A strange feeling popped in the back of your head, like it was warning you of danger, but you couldn’t quite understand what was wrong. So you merely shrug it off.

A powerful burst of red forms in front of you, swirling around madly as a familiar power consumes the entire area, but it just as quickly vanishes as it appeared, leaving behind nothing but a cloud of red, and a silhouette slowly emerges from its remnants.

And there stood Natasha. There stood your lost love.

Tears slipped past your eyes as you slapped your hand over your mouth, a warm feeling spread from your chest, and an overwhelming joy consumed you. Wordlessly, you tackle her in a hug and you bury yourself into her.

Natasha engulfs you in her arms, the feeling of her touch enough to mend all the broken pieces of your heart, and you couldn’t be any happier.

“I’m sorry, Talia. I’m so, so, sorry.” You whisper into her. “I love you. I love you so much.”

She merely smiles, looking down at you with her adoring eyes, and your heart skips a beat when you finally hear the sound of her voice once more.

“Welcome home, detka.”

[oopsimbug]

in which... y/n is just trying to put on eyeliner and harry is bored pt. two

a/n: when she’s back from a six month hiatus after making only ONE fic. wow, do i suck. for anyone who cares, school has been pretty rough. i’m actually procrastinating studying for an exam to finally upload this. it’s been pretty hard to balance both school and writing but oh well. anywho, here it finally is. it took so long to write because i wasn’t feeling very inspired by this. a lot of people asked for a part two and even though i kinda wanted to leave it on a sad note, i am a sucker for giving the people what they want, so sorry if this is a bit shit- i definitely don’t like this one myself. i guess i’m not one for fluffy endings. well, at least for this one i wasn’t. i really hope you enjoy it! more stuff to come, if school doesn’t mind fucking off for a little while (or maybe just forever?) xox -(a) bug

pairing: best friend! harry styles x reader

summary: Harry is worried about Y/n. Y/n is worried about Harry. Harry is solving it by thinking of ways to check on her, while Y/n uses cheesy pasta and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air as an excuse to not think. But what will happen when someone is at her door, and it’s not her delivery man?

warnings: angst, swearing, y/n and harry being idiotos, fluffy end, kissing

word count: 5.3k

It had been a week.

One gruelling, painfully long week.

Harry was biting his nails, staring up at the ceiling as he laid in his bed, worrying about her.

About how he fucked up.

He didn’t think that she would be upset for this long. He thought she would scream at him and then text him the following day, wanting to hang out- a silent “I forgive you”, he supposed.

But after two days of radio silence on her end, he decided to call her. The only problem was that her last words to him were “leave”. She wanted space. She needed to think things through- what things? Harry had no clue. But he had to respect her and her choice to not want him around. So with that, he put down the phone.

But a small part of him (okay fine, a big part of him), wanted her to just show up at his house so they could cuddle again, talking about the stupidest of things while they made cupcakes in his kitchen. They would be listening to groovy music and now and then, they’d stop mixing bowls and sifting flour to dance- well, they were horrible dancers, so more so just wave their hands, hips and shoulders around. It would be fun and would always end up with them laughing at one another. He would lick the batter and she would berate him, telling him that “one of these days, you are going to get salmonella and I’ll just laugh at your stupid ass” and he would retort with something witty and a bit flirty like “don’t worry darling, we both know you would be right at my side if I got sick. I know you can’t stand being apart from me” with a wink and a cheeky smirk. He just wants to see her in her oversized Space Jam hoodie and little basketball shorts. Or her short flower shirt and his sweatpants that she has to cuff at the bottoms because they’re too long. Or even-

He’s gotta stop thinking about her, or his brain will soon explode. But he just can’t stop. He tries to think of the happier moments, like her showing him a tour of her very healthy houseplants that she prides herself in, but every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is her teary face telling him to leave. So no, if he was given the choice to think of her flailing her arms around in his kitchen to dancehall tunes while making sweet treats or crying at something that he provoked, you bet your ass he’d choose the former.

But after the seventh day, he knew that something wasn’t right. This was too much “thinking time”. For all he knew, she could be fine, but she could also be positively bawling. She could be living for this free time, but she also could be waiting for him to make the first move. She could be wanting Harry out of her life for her benefit forever, but she also could be feeling lonely and counting the seconds for their makeup, just like he was.

That was it. He had to go see her and make sure his best friend was okay.

He practised what he was going to say to her in his car on the way to her apartment. “Y/n, I’m so sorry for how I acted. I didn’t stop to think about how you were feeling and didn’t take your emotions into account which was unbelievably wrong of me. I’m truly sorry. It’s just that I really care about you and you’re my best friend and I can’t see you choose a tinder fuck over me and if I saw him in the street I would knock his lights out and I just want to kiss you, can I kiss you, oh god please let me kiss you I just want to-“

Fuck, what was wrong with him? Why was he so upset? He had been on plenty of dates with other celebrities and models and she was always on the sidelines, cheering him on. So why was he getting so touchy-feely about a single tinder date? Maybe he was just in desperate need of attention. He hadn’t had a girlfriend for almost one year and casual fuck arounds also stopped about four months ago, so maybe he just needed to fuck someone quick. That would explain why he sees his best friend’s kindness and natural flirty nature as something more romantic. Every laugh at his jokes, every look in her eyes, every graze of her hand on his thighs as she leans over him to get her drink on the side table next to him, he becomes more switched on and awake. She leaves him feeling giddy and excited at every conversation. “This can’t just be because I’m horny right?” he cannot believe he would ever be that horny. What the hell was he going to do?

*

This is pathetic she thought.

I’m pathetic.

She let out a huge sigh before shoving another forkful of cheesy pasta into her mouth.

What am I doing?

The answer?

Eating carbs upon carbs upon carbs, lounging on her comfy sofa in the most comfortable, yet daggiest pair of pyjamas ever while watching reruns of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air for the fiftieth time, actively avoiding all commitments, housework and jobs that involve moving further than to the kitchen, which even then was an embarrassingly burdening trek on its own.

But she let it slide. How could she not? She was upset and this was how she coped. That’s what she kept reminding herself as she boiled more and more pasta watching the days pass her by without realisation, but now, she’s beginning to question if this was the best idea. Pushing all thoughts of him out of her mind by not looking at her phone just in case he called or texted. But she was beginning to struggle.

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what inner turmoil she was facing. He seemed genuinely hurt when she snapped at him. He truly didn’t understand why she took so much offence to the playground ribbing, it seemed. And she had to go be a dick and ignore him. He was probably worried sick. How many times would he have called to check up on her? 10? 15? The more she thought about it, the more she wanted this stupid feud to be over and just be in his arms again, even if it’s just as a friend. So she caved. Turned on her phone, expecting there to be at least a call or a text asking if she was still alive or not. And although she did receive a message of that likeness, it wasn’t from Harry, no. It was from her daily water tracking app, pleading her to fill in her daily intake of water so as to not die of dehydration after she was suspected to have not drunk any for the entire week when in reality, she was just too in her head to open her stupid phone and log her water.

Wow, she thought.

Now not only has Harry chosen to not speak to you, but you also look like a huge idiot right now. Of course, he wouldn’t want to talk to you! You got pissed at him for absolutely no reason and now he hates you. He’s gonna ask for his cardigan and track pants that he keeps at your house in case he wanted to sleepover. He’s going to take back all of his little knick-knacks that he leaves over, like the cute diffuser that he leaves because he knows you need it for your constant hay-fever that blocks your nose and then he’s going to declare that you aren’t friends anymore and then you will never get the chance to tell him how you feel and then-

Her panicky brooding is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who the hell could that be?”, she thinks. It was too late for it to be the postman with her package containing her entire Amazon wish list that she bought on the third day of mourning to make herself feel better. But it couldn’t be Mrs Xiao asking her if she had any holes in her shirts that needed stitching. The sweet old lady fell asleep at 8:37 pm sharp after her medicine that she’d take at 8:30 pm would kick in (which she learnt after spending nights over at her apartment where her niece, Mei, took care of her. Y/n would learn traditional recipes like baozi and watch movies with her two friends all the time). It couldn’t be Mei either, she was always in online uni lectures from 8:30-10:30 pm, locked away in her little study, so as to not bother or be bothered. So now, a little panicked, Y/n wondered who was truly at her door?

Another two knocks come, echoing off the walls of her little apartment as she turns down the volume of the program she was watching. She stares at the door from her couch, debating whether she should risk getting stabbed by a possible murderer or not, before ultimately deciding that life was too short. She was also getting sick and tired of the knocks that kept arriving in threes. She swings her legs off the couch and onto the floor, pushing them into her slippers so that her feet wouldn’t touch the cold floor, waddling her way to the door before shyly opening it, peeking at who it could be through the tiny crack in the opening, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t mind her current state: belly filled with pasta, hair knotty, giant shirt with sweatpants on and Harry’s patchwork cardigan hanging off her shoulders- which she had been wearing all day, cherishing the pretty piece of clothing and his scent imbedded in it, taking it all in just in case he asks for it back. She peeps at the torso of this mystery person, realising that Harry owns the jumper worn by them, before looking up and locking eyes with a worn out and tired eyed Harry, one hand in the pocket of the familiar hoodie and another extended out near the door, ready to knock again before freezing when it opens up all the way to show herself to her best friend. He doesn’t eye her up and down cheekily like he normally does when she is wearing pyjamas, wolf-whistling at her relaxed state, claiming that “You look runway-ready, my love! Do a twirl for the crowd, will you?”. Instead, he stares her right in the eyes with what looks like almost relief, before smiling a weak and broken smile.

One of them needed to break the silence or both would have just stared at each other in her doorway until the world exploded. So she starts.

“Hi.” her voice hovers a tinge above a whisper, almost as though if she dared to speak louder, this probable illusion of the one she loves would fade away. He lights up a little bit, probably relieved that she started the conversation.

“Hey,” his soft voice matched her volume and tone as if he too didn’t want this to be a dream. “May I come in?” The words sound awkward to her coming out of his mouth. Harry never had to ask for permission to be invited in- he usually just strolled in without so much as a holler to indicate he was present, finding amusement in scaring her instead while she was doing whatever she was doing, whether that be reading, watching a movie, cooking or napping. They were the best of friends and never had to inquire about entry to each other’s domains, along with other small things like if they had anything in their kitchens to eat or if they could sit somewhere, so hearing it was a little disheartening and provoked Y/n to think about how serious this situation was.

“Okay”, she replied after the pause of contemplation, opening the door fully so that the lanky boy could follow along behind her, like a little puppy. She didn’t like how awkward the situation was. She just wanted things to go back to what they were.

But then you wouldn’t be able to tell him you love him... her inner voice argued. And she agreed. She knew that yes, this will be awkward, but it’s an opportunity for him to listen to her and know that she isn’t joking.

“Would you like some tea?” She enquires. They’ll need to handle this like proper grown-ups (which in all honesty, isn’t their dynamic- it’s more like first-year uni students who are mature enough to have deep conversations but still laugh at dad jokes and anything remotely serious, like a painting with boobs), and from what she knows, or has seen in movies when the characters are being serious, is that you need tea or a drink of that sort and a sit down on the couch where you talk stuff out. So that’s exactly what she does.

“Yes please,” Harry’s soft voice replies as he toes off his boots that most definitely cost more than her apartment. Y/n nods and heads to the small kitchenette and flips the switch on the electric kettle before going into her cupboard that housed the mugs. Harry stood awkwardly near the sofas, and to save him the embarrassment of waiting while standing, Y/n invites him to sit with a small, “You can take a seat,” and a quick glance at him before returning her gaze to the mugs to make herself look busy. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes for more than three seconds in fear of bursting into tears and the worn out and tired sight of him. She shakes the thought out of her head and begins to prepare the mugs.

Y/n put two teabags in her mug while putting one in Harry’s. She was raised in a household of avid tea drinkers and she inherited her strong tea quirk from her father who would always keep two teabags with only a dash of milk, and the only difference between her tea and her fathers was that Y/n wasn’t strong enough to take her tea without sugar, unlike her father, who thought that drinking unbelievably concentrated leaf juice with milk was a fun and relaxing time. On the other hand, Harry liked to keep one tea bag in his mug while he drank it, but just like her father, he too took little to no sugar with his cup, being the health freak he was. And early in their friendship, when she mentioned it to him, Harry chuckled and chirped, “Your father is a smart man. He has to be for raising amazing and talented people like your siblings. I’m not sure what went wrong with you though...” while booping her nose as they laid together under a tree for a little picnic. And though she rolled her eyes at him and punched his shoulder for the sly dig at her, she was practically beaming at the fact that he thought her family was smart. Harry had no idea how much that meant to her. Y/n loved her entire family, and she was unbelievably close to them, so it made her entire week to know that Harry, someone she respected and loved so much, recognised how talented and smart each of her family members were. Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t need the validation to know that her family was amazing, but she felt so special knowing he took the time to notice. He did that a lot though. Doing things that meant a lot to her without batting an eye. Saying things that only a person as observant as he could notice, like complimenting her eye colour in the light and asking her to read for him because he constantly mentions how much he loves her voice.

Y/n looked over to the same sweet guy she fell head over heels for, who was sitting on her couch, fidgety as ever, and wondered if they would ever be the same after the very next moments to come. She didn’t want things to change between them, but she was dying inside knowing that he wasn’t hers. And getting over him was not in the question, after the fiasco that happened last week. She just wished she could get inside his head to sate her painful curiosity.

What is he thinking about?

**

What is she thinking about?

It’s the million-dollar question running through his mind. What was she pondering over as she made them tea? Did she want to talk to him? Was she mad that it took him so long to find the balls to face her? Was she as nervous as he was? Was she worried that they would never be the same again like he was?

He was going into panic mode, questioning everything, while probably looking stupid as ever. As much as he regretted how awkward things were now, and the fact that he instigated her to lash out at him a week ago, he was realising that he was not regretting the fact that he did it. He didn’t want her to go out with someone else, and she didn’t. And yes, of course, he feels bad-beyond bad, in fact- for making her cry, and wishes he could take it all back, he also sees this as an opportunity to tell her how he feels about her. He could finally tell her that he thinks about her all the time. About her soft smile, her bright eyes, her melodic laugh, her speaking voice that brings butterflies to his stomach. He could tell her about how he loses himself at work, the grocery store, fuck- even at events- thinking about what she was doing at her house. Was she under her blankets on her couch, watching some corny tv show? Was she baking her signature choc chip cookies that taste like the gods blessed every single biscuit on the tray before they were put in the oven? Was she knitting her cat, Chesnut, another rug to plonk herself down on, with her feet up on the ottoman as she listened to the 7 o’clock news on the radio? Was she writing a paper for another deadline? Something so sophisticated, like the exploration of white and male privilege and how it is ingrained in our society? Something that Harry tried to understand and research so that he could stay in the loop with his smart girl’s interests, but he always struggled with.

It was a huge insecurity of his. Not that his best friend was smarter than he was, no way. He treasured the fact that she could and would whip his ass at a debate on things like the state of the world, or human rights. She could school him on global politics, languages, maths, science, history and literally anything else, and he would be cheering her on. What he was insecure about was her realising that he was probably slowing her down in life. Y/n was well within her rights to kick him out of her life for being nothing but a freeloader and stopping her from reaching her full potential, what with him constantly stopping her from her own life to help him go through shit happening in his. Whenever he was sad, or confused, or upset, Y/n was the first person he would talk to and he feared that she would realise that he was probably taking advantage of her and stop talking to him. And that scared him. It scared him because he knew that she didn't need him at all, but he needed her to do anything in life. Every major and minor decision in his life has been approved by Y/n first, and not because she was a controlling friend who didn’t trust him with his own life, but because Harry needed her validation. Harry Styles, a world-famous superstar, had girls, guys and non-binaries at his feet, following his every beck and call. Harry Styles, who was on the cover of every magazine, known by every celebrity, dated only the most perfect of women, required validation from Y/n, a psychology major at a small university. Y/n, who liked to plan her day out on a to-do list, end up not doing anything on that to-do list and cry about it afterwards. Y/n, who breaks it down to “Murder She Wrote” by Chaka Demus & Pliers like it’s her last 4 minutes and 5 seconds alive on this Earth while making pancakes. Y/n, who cries more when she’s laughing while watching Tik Toks than she does during sad movies.

To celebrities, Y/n was nothing but a regular. But to Harry, she was all. She was the warmth of a sweater that you toss in the dryer for a few minutes to make it extra toasty. She was the pad of butter that you spread onto your pumpkin sourdough toast and it ends up being exactly the amount you wanted. She was the feeling when you are driving home from a long day of interviews and premiers, and you’re on the freeway and the windows down and you just… exist. She is the feeling you get when you watch Pride and Prejudice, and the relief of when you find the perfect word to end a lyric. She is when your shoes fit perfectly, and when you finish a book so utterly fulfilling that you lie there in a trance, looking up at your ceiling at 3 am, wondering how you could have been so lucky to be able to be blessed with an ending like the one you just read. Y/n was all those things and more.

And that’s why he had to tell her he loved her. No matter how scared he was.

***

The electric kettle is finished boiling the tea all too quickly as the bubbling comes to an end and the distinct click of the switch turning back off echoes around the silent apartment. Y/n had poured the scalding hot water into the two cups she had prepared stared into them.

It was time. She had tried to avoid this for as long as possible, but now it was the moment to face the music. She picked up the two mugs of tea and brought them to her lounge where Harry was sitting on her worn in green sofa, staring at her coffee table, eyebrows scrunched, pouted lips, deep in thought, before looking up at her with wide green eyes, and followed her to where she stood in front of him. She passed his mug to him before sitting on the comfy chair a few feet away from the sofa and from him, putting some distance in between them for her sake, so that she wouldn’t try to hug him and say sorry without saying what she needed to say first. Which she needed to start talking about now, so as not to sit in the awkward silence created by the two.

Say something!!

“So…’

Jesus fuck…. was that all you could think of? Wow. I am going to lose my best friend.

Y/n was choking.

“I am so sorry,” Harry’s voice intercepts, raspy from the lack of use, looking up from the coffee table he seemed so interested in. “I am so fucking sorry Y/n. I have no excuse as to why I was making fun of you that day. I pushed too far and I am a shit friend for not noticing that you were already on edge. It was so wrong of me and I am so sorry.” He stopped himself before he started to ramble, looking at her with eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t decipher.

Y/n felt… unsatisfied. Why did she feel this way? He apologised, right? So why does she feel unfulfilled? Why does she want him to say more? He hit all of the points he had to for a standard apology, so why did she think he hadn’t done enough? Was it that little optimist in her brain hoping he would maybe reveal a slight attraction to her? Maybe tell her that he loves her, and has loved her forever and ever? Confess that she has bewitched him, body and soul so that she didn’t have to? God, was she an idiot. But a lovestruck idiot at that. She bites her tongue and replies.

“Harry, I forgive you. Although you were annoying as ever,” She rolls her eyes and smirks, while he lets out a breathy, half-assed chuckle, showing his acknowledgement at her attempt to ease the lowered yet still prevalent tension. She continues. “ I understand that you were just trying to have fun. I guess I was the one who irrationally lashed out . I am always okay with you poking fun at me, but I was just frustrated and tired and I took it out on you. I’m sorry for the improper communication and I’m sorry for pushing you away when we should’ve just talked…”

“I forgive you too. I think this was just miscommunication on both parts.” He stared into her eyes, almost as if he could sense the discontent in her, but chose to ignore it.

“I guess so.” She halfheartedly answered, not really knowing where to take the conversation next. They had both apologised, but evidently still had things to say. Well, Y/n had things to say, that’s for sure, but she was pretty sure that Harry wanted to say something too. He had that look on his face where he wanted to say something but was forcing himself not to.

What does he want to say? Why can’t he say it to my face? I mean, sure, I’m also hiding shit I wanna say, but I have an excuse. This could ruin our friendship. What does he have to say?

“Great,” Harry replies, trying to fill the awkward pauses and conversation that is being held. He still looked like he had something to say, but seemed like he was not budging.

Well, if he’s not saying anything, I’m not either. Why do I have to confess my feelings and put our friendship on the line if he isn’t even going to say what’s on his mind?

“So, are we good?”

“I don’t know. Are we? I mean, I forgive you and you forgive me, right?”

“Right… No yeah, we’re alright. We’re completely fine!” Y/n replies quickly. Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not fine.

There is a pregnant pause and Y/n has half a better mind to just get up, walk to the bathroom again with her head down and lock herself in there till he leaves again, because she cannot take this awkward conversation. Not with him. She shifts, ready to stand up to get some water, when Harry looks at her, confusion and slight panic setting into his face.

“Wait. I don’t think I’m fine…” She looks up at the boy sitting in front of her, reading the words from her mind like they were scribed on a piece of paper in the blackest of ink, permanent and bold. Her heart stuttered. What else did he want?

“Is everything okay, H?” she tentatively asks. He loses eye contact with her, gaze lowering towards the table in front of him

“I-” he pauses, trying to collect his thoughts while simultaneously trying to explain to her why he wasn’t okay. “I just- fuck” his head falls down, his face inches away from the hot tea in his hands, the humid steam billowing out of the mug and warming his elegant face as he takes a deep breath and tries once more to convey his thoughts. “I don’t want us to be friends again.”

Her heart stops. This could go one of two ways. He could either be confessing his hatred or his adoration for her, and either one would probably end with her imploding. She tries to take a neutral tone when she replies.

“What does that mean, H?”

He looks at her once more. “It’s not enough, Y/n... “

“What?” She is confused. Her friendship isn’t enough? How is she supposed to reply to that?

“I want more. I don’t want us to just be friends. I want to be more with you. I want to do more with you. I want to do things that friends… they shouldn’t do together…”

Is he trying to confess he likes her? Why, in all the ways you could speak, would he choose to speak like that?! She has had enough of him dawdling around his feelings. “Harry, stop being cryptic and fucking tell me what’s going on?!”

“I love you, Y/n! I fucking love you, Y/n. So much. And it is eating me from the inside out. I hate that we can’t be normal anymore, and I hate that you don’t love me the way I love you, but I cannot sit here and pretend everything is fine, because I love you.”

Y/n is stunned. Frozen in her spot. Can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe. Stuck in space, and stuck in time.

Holy fucking shit… he loves me…

While Y/n processes the life changing knowledge that her best friend loves her, her best friend conveniently sits next to her, wishing that he was dead for the letdown he was about to receive.

“Say something… please, for the love of God, say something!”

****

She looks up at Harry. Not Harry Styles, playboy, whore, singer, millionaire, but instead; Harry, her best friend of five years, reddened face out of embarrassment. She sees the mortality in his eyes. Feels his presence so heavily in the moment. She is in awe. True awe of him, and his ability to love her. And with that awe- and that stupid look on her face, she reaches up and cradles his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs softly over his plush pink lips. He stands just as still as her, barely breathing, as if it would shatter the fantasy to stardust and he would wake up in his bed, cold shivers running down his spine, as has happened previously whenever he thought of this moment, staring up at his ceiling at 3:40AM wondering why he thought of his best friend in such a way. She creeped closer to his face before stopping a breath away from him, and whispered.

“Is this okay?”

She looked into his eyes, and he looked into hers, both never feeling so alive before. He wishes to tell her that she needn’t ask for his permission, and that he wants to kiss her forever. Eternally locked in an embrace that holds their souls together. But all he can muster is a weak and broken whisper back.

“Please,”

She can hold it for no longer, and leans in the rest of the way, their lips moulding together, for the very first time, eyes fluttering close, as his hands reach to grab her by the hips to straddle him, deepening the kiss even further. And when they part for breath, panting for air with slightly moist lips, they touch foreheads, eyes still closed. Words needn’t be exchanged- everything that yearned to be said was useless, as it could never describe how they truly felt for each other. So hopelessly besotted with one another, that all they could do was breathe together before kissing once more, hoping that their actions could provide even an iota of an idea of how much they love one another.

Two best friends, turned lovers forevermore.

[imtheiliad]

this is me asking very very nicely for you to pretty please share those snippets

<3 includes buck going off on his parents which would be 100% justified even without this little tweak in the universe and buck very much does not forgive them in this universe because of that. I started this like immediately post buck begins/ during the midseason hiatus and was like the first thing i sunk my teeth into in terms of writing. i was going through it at this time- so i put buck through it too. because at the time i was a buck girlie (gn) (rip to that era of my life). i personally do not have experience with losing a child but i have raw and trauma filled experiences with grief and losing someone too early so i channeled that in there and much of the pain that buck talks about is based on my own so yeah...

tw: discussions of infant death (specifically SIDS but not specified in the snippets)

“I had a daughter. She would have been 6 this year. Don’t look at me like that.”  He clipped, looking in his parents direction through sharp eyes. “That's why I never told you because I knew you would just look through me and be disappointed, just another one of Evan’s screw-ups. But once I got to know her, in the short time we had, I knew you didn’t deserve to know. I know that especially now. You do not get to sit there and tell me what kind of pain you have been in because I know. I know what it’s like to lose a piece of your fucking soul and know that it was too soon. And at least you got to say goodbye.” he almost regretted saying that, but he pressed on.

“And my closest friends, my family, didn’t know about her until now, thanks for that by the way, this is not how I wanted to tell them.” The Buckleys flinched a little at the implications. His family on the other hand just grew even more protective over their youngest member as he kept baring his soul. 

“ I never erased her, I never made anyone lie about her. I never lied about her. I think about her everyday, I talk to her mom when I can. And furthermore you do not get to sit there and tell me about what I went through with Christopher. I had to look in my best friend's eyes, fully believing that I was about to tell him that his worst nightmare had come true, and that it was my fault. I thank god every single fucking day that Eddie doesn’t know this pain.” He realized that his train of thought had wandered to Eddie as it usually did, especially when he was in need of comfort. He glanced in the older man’s direction and caught the mixture of shock, confusion and empathy that radiated off of his best friend. He took a deep breath to get himself back on track, “And I do love Christopher as a son. And losing Ava has never got in the way of that, if anything it has made what I have with Chris that much more precious to me, and that’s how I know that you messed up. That’s how I can call bullshit on your excuses. That’s why I won’t sit here and let you diminish my love for Chris, or dismiss my experiences when you never even bothered to be here for me at all. I will sympathize with your grief, but you have other children who needed you. I will never forgive you for looking straight through me, for not loving me. Be there for Maddie. But don’t try and be there for me now. That ship sailed a long time ago. I thought I might be ready to finally reconcile with you over how you have treated me my entire life and for some reason give you a chance. But I can’t, not now.” The adrenaline was beginning to wear off and he began to lose momentum as he reached the end of what he wanted to say.

---this takes place later after shift in the loft---

“Will you tell me about her?” Eddie asked after nearly 5 minutes. 

“I can show you pictures. Let’s go to the couch,” his voice and demeanor were much more Buck-like now. 

Eddie made his way to the living room area and sat down. 

Buck reached onto one of the bookshelves below the tv and produced a small chest like box and sat down next to Eddie and handed it to him. 

Eddie gingerly opened the box and inside rested a soft pink photo album, a tiny hospital bracelet, the tiniest baby hat he had ever seen, and one bootie. “Ava” was painted in a beautiful purple script on the inside of the top. 

“Her mom has the other one, she wore them home from the hospital.” Buck said, pointing at  the tiny bootie. He picked up the photo album and handed it to Eddie. 

The First page read “Ava Rose Warren-Buckley August 19, 2015 - December 21, 2015” 

“Is that why you got the rose on your chest?” Eddie asked, referencing the rose tattoo that was placed over his heart that he had seen in the locker room. 

“Yeah. We both got one. We wanted to give her shorter names cause our last names were so long,” Buck said as he watched Eddie read the page. 

Eddie ran a thumb over the words and nodded his head. He turned the page. 

The first few pages were filled with ultrasound captures and pictures of a pregnant woman, she had long red hair that fell around her shoulders in curls, and a smile that nearly rivaled Buck’s in brightness. Buck was in a couple as well kissing her cheek or smiling. Both were so filled youth, the glow radiating from them. 

“Thea,” Buck supplied her name, “We were so happy, we were gonna get married once Ava got a little older. I kinda can’t believe I was even thinking about marriage that young, but at the time it felt right.”

Eddie nodded in understanding, “You said that you didn’t know for awhile?” 

“Yeah,” he rubbed his neck anxiously, “I was sort of traveling the country after being kicked out of college and running from my parents. I landed in [place] and i guess there was something about it cause it was the first place that i actually made some friends and Thea and I were more like friends with benefits at first. You know how your twenties are,” Eddie shook his head, “right, uh, anyway one second she was talking to me every day, the next she disappeared. Her leaving made me realize that I loved her, still do in some way, but I wanted to give her the space she needed and then she showed up at my door, it’s kind of a miracle I was still living the same place at that point,  a few months later, pregnant, and it was easy. So we settled down. We were so happy.” 

“I can see that.” Eddie’s own self hatred and guilt bubbled low under the surface. He had stolen that from Shannon  and Christopher. Had stolen it from himself. 

The next few pages were of Ava in the NICU. The one that stood out to Eddie was one of Buck, who looked different, older, than the previous pages, exhausted- his mop of curls somewhat unwieldy, worry lines etched in his forehead, bags under his eyes, sitting shirtless in a hospital chair with a tiny baby in his arms, wires trailing off her connected to a machine just out of frame. Buck wasn’t looking at the camera. He only had eyes for Ava. Eddie would recognize that look anywhere, it was the same way Buck looked at Chris. 

There were pictures of the little family arriving home, the parents looking exhausted but relieved and happy. 

There was a classic shot of Buck holding Ava, looking at the camera helplessly, while Ava had her face scrunched up and bright red, clearly letting out a piercing scream. 

Another classic shot of Buck passed out on a bed with Ava knocked out in his chest, his arms around her protectively. 

There were photos in every permutation of the 3 family members, demonstrating how happy and content they were. 

The last picture was of both Buck and Thea on a bed, Ava between them, smiling,  both of them staring at her with so much love. 

And that’s where it ended. 

Eddie looked over at Buck, who was fiddling with his watch. 

“We still loved each other, but we just couldn’t go on without her. Losing her, it broke both of us, changed us so much that we knew that we could never truly be happy together after that.” He said, taking off his watch, “So I traveled a little more and then landed out here. And I got this just before I started at the fire academy.” He showed Eddie his wrist where he had a tattoo that Eddie had never seen before, “Ava” in a neat cursive script. “Once Chimney saw it, and offered a tattoo removal place he had heard about, thinking it was an old girlfriend. I just left the locker room. I felt really bad about that. But I had just met them, they weren’t my family yet. They still saw me as this young reckless kid who slept around and made mistakes. Which almost felt freeing. So I played into it to make myself feel better. And I guess, until today, none of the opportunities I had felt right.”

“You know, being a dad really looks good on you.” Eddie paused, glanced at Buck who was focused on his wrist, his thumb brushing over the letters, “Would you do it again? Could You?”

“Depends on the person.” Buck replied, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

“What about with me?” Eddie supplied, almost surprising himself with the question. 

Buck’s eyes snap up instantly, meeting Eddie’s for the first time all day. 

“In a heartbeat.” he replied softly, but with a force of love behind each word.

---and buck telling maddie---

“So, first off, I want to say that I forgive you for keeping Daniel a secret. I really do understand how that sort of thing gets pushed for a better time. I just, can you promise to forgive me too?” 

Maddie’s face is filled with concern and questions, “Okay. I promise.” She replies and holds out her pinky. Buck smiles a little and links his pinky in hers. He takes a deep breath, clears his throat a little, and reaches into his pocket. Unsure of how to begin his story without riding a high of adrenaline or in a therapist's office, he hands a picture to Maddie. It’s a bit worn from its home in his pants pocket or gym bag. But the image is clear. It’s a picture of a young Buck holding a tiny bundle of blankets, tiny face peeking out. Hospital bracelet still around his wrist, and harried look still etching his face 

“Buck? Who...” 

“I wanted to tell you. I actually did. But I think Doug got to those letters before you did. And then when you came here, I wanted to tell you, but then Doug showed up, and there were too many natural disasters, and I was crushed by a ladder truck, and then Eddie almost died, then to top it all off there’s a pandemic, and you were pregnant. And scared. There never seemed to be time. But then-” 

“Daniel.”

“And I felt like such a hypocrite. That and Mom and Dad showed up at the station and I kinda exploded on them. So Chimney already knows and well, he's kept his share of secrets.” 

Maddie didn’t need Buck to say the words, she knew, “The baby is-”

“My daughter.”

“And she….” 

Buck just looked at her, finally letting the pain reach his eyes for the first time in years. He expected a look of pity and hurt from Maddie. But she was looking at him. Really seeing him. 

“Of course I forgive you. I know I said I would, but-”

“Thank you.” and Buck could breathe again. "Can you tell me about him?"

[kkyujikoo]

These are my... 2...? Maybe 50, cents about the whole "freejk" thing. I'm gonna be extremely petty and at some points a whole lot sarcastic and it's gonna be long but I had to say it. As soon as I get my computer I'm gonna make it under read more, but the app does whatever it wants, as we know.

Listen, this ain't my first fan rodeo, and not even the first fan rodeo where I've been directly or indirectly accused of being some sort of pervert or delulu. I've been in fandom spaces since I was a teen, I was shipping mlm couples when queerbaiting in TV shows was still something that was seen as the norm rather than some cheap disgusting trick. I was there when fanfic spaces saw "slash" fics as something "different" and to be tagged with a more mature rating even when they just looked at each other.

I was in BBC's Sherlock's fandom and I shipped Johnlock during the hiatus between S3 and S4, at this point I'm not even feeling it when people call me delulu or a weirdo.

So, yeah, take this with a grain of salt: as a person who has seen thousands of times fandom drama unfolding and has lived too much of it... This whole situation is so ridiculous it makes me laugh. Like, yeah, it's maddening how people will blame anyone and everyone because they don't even see their own bias and homophobia, granted, but like... It also makes me laugh for the sheer dumbassery of the reasoning behind it all?

Like... Y'all are getting mad and for what? Because it sure as hell isn't the invasion of privacy, since y'all are watching the same content we're all watching and you're paying to see it the same way everyone else is. If you don't want to "invade their privacy", you should just... Stop watching content that isn't their music videos, RUN episodes or interviews. Memories and any kind of dvd/video that shows what they're doing behind the scenes shouldn't be part of their job as musicians, and therefore we're intruding in their privacy... Or aren't we?

Or maybe it's more nuanced than that: maybe the content they release on dvd/on their official channels is part of their job as entertainers, and it's been approved, and it's a small window THEY are granting us.

You know what's the REAL invasion of privacy and what REALLY invalidates someone autonomy? When you, who maybe aren't even paying to see that content (which is something I understand, like, dude, I'm not covered in money either), DEMAND what kind of behind the scenes content you want when I swear ABSOLUTELY NO ONE has asked you. Once again: you don't like it? You think it's some huge invasion of privacy? Don't buy it. Don't interact with it. Convince your friends to do the same. For all I care, just go and petition to boycott this kind of content. I know you won't do it, because... That's the thing, isn't it? It's not the invasion of privacy that bothers these people.

Y'all aren't mad because we get into their business or else you would have gotten real mad when we were privy to REAL private moments like people crying their hearts out.

No, no. Y'all are mad because it's "shipping content" and "fanservice" which apparently bothers you because it lacks authenticity.

Pick a side, lovelies: either you DON'T want to invade their privacy, and thus all the content they release should be focused on what fans want to see, or you WANT to know how they interact TRULY in private.

And here's the catch: "shipping content" can be anything. Shipping existed WAAAAAYYY before the word for it was invented, same way with fanfictions. Shipping means, literally, "seeing two (or more) people interact and thinking they would make a good romantic pair". That's it. That's quite literally it. Everything else is just some nuance of the concept of shipping, but at its core, it's nearly impossible to ban all shipping content when it's a group of seven people, because they should for real go in social distancing mode to do so. Most people who have parasocial relationships tend to have "ships" whether they know it or not, because we've all, at least once, looked at a dynamic from the outside and thought "oh man they look cute together". So, even if, o dear ones, your wishes were granted... What the hell do you mean by "shipping" content? Should they just film solo clips, avoiding talking about the other members? But wouldn't that be fanservice, since it's focused on pleasing the fans? (Which, ultimately, is what fanservice MEANS, and I hate to break it to y'all but the whole concept behind entertainment and thus all the content BTS releases it's... For the fans. Like, they're not going out of their way to just meet our expectations but they're certainly doing fanservice by the mere act of releasing bonus content.)

But it's not even quite that, is it? Because no one bats an eye if it's Tae kissing Nj's cheek. I've seen no hashtag against everyone - and I mean literally every one of them - wolf whistling at Nj. It's okay to show intimacy... Because they're bandmates and it's okay to be close to someone who you see basically 24/7, I hear you. And it's also okay when people see that and gush over that closeness, because it's such a nice thing to see.

Soooooo... We've got to free JK from whom exactly? From what?

Are y'all mad cause people pointed out there's very little way a bruise that stayed for a whole ass night could be a quick bite? Because that doesn't harm jk, at most makes fun of him and jimin and their poor excuses (seriously, guys, next time consider using mosquitoes or "I was doing stuff". It'll be equally embarrassing but at least the meme will be funny), and it's literally... A fair observation. Like. It's a hickey, people are gonna make jokes about seeing a hickey and poor excuses of covering it up in the exact same way they're gonna make jokes over jimin falling out of chairs. And yeah, a hickey is AT LEAST something that happens in a sensual context. Like, I could understand "people who are extremely familiar with each other will have different body language/touch in areas where usually you wouldn't see friends touching each other", but that's not. Not a hand on the thigh. It's a hickey on the neck. I don't even know a more stereotypical placing for a hickey. But once again, are y'all mad because someone is pointing it out? Because that's not being delulu or even being a shipper, really, it's just commenting on something that was approved to be shown and discussed in something that was released BY THEM.

Are y'all mad at hybe for showing something that literally fell onto their hands? Cause like, unless someone (I'm counting on Jimin, since as we know Jungkook was busy spinning him round and round and had both his hands busy) called at hybe headquarters to say "yo bang pd substitute, is it okay if I give my friend jk here a hickey? Cause he's being really annoying rn and he has to pay", I highly doubt anyone expected Jungkook to come to rehearsal all neatly marked up. Or idk, maybe someone at hybe asked them "we need Jungkook to come in with a hickey but refuse to say it's a hickey, so that fans will feel reeeeally served." That sounds perfectly plausible too. Or a good marketing strategy.

Now, if you're a big company and your objective is to have some footage of the rehearsals for a concert, and the fandom is too good at noticing stuff for their own good, and one of your artists comes in with a very visible mark, and he and his bff bropal4lyfe come n with a story about how they were playing and a bite happened, you've got three choices: 1. Cut the artist out of aaaaalll the footage. Someone would have noticed the "bite mark" anyway, you best believe that. If you don't want anyone to notice it, you gotta cut him in most of the footage where it's visible. 2. Keep the hickey, discard the explanations. You could do that, but also it would feel a lot more unfaithful to everyone involved. Also they clearly worked their ass off to invent an explanation, come on! They truly tried to do their best inventing something that was not "it's a mosquito bite", they should get some credit! 3. Keep the bite, keep the explanation.

Notice how none of these solutions include the biting never happening because... They couldn't prevent it? The only thing they have any control over is how they're framing each "accident". And that's not an easy job.

I applaud you, people on the editing team.

So... On whom should we cast the blame now? Ah, yes, I think it's finally time for the ultimate scapegoat of this fandom: Jimin. Which is funny, cause... You know... If this were really about privacy, or being "victims" of shipping... This should be about freeing him too, you know? But obviously Jimin does it for attention, while Jungkook, poor angel that he is, doesn't even know what shipping is.

Furthermore, don't we all know how much Jimin imposes himself in Jungkook's life? To the point where he, multimillionaire man feels compelled to share a car with Jimin even if they're both late in the process. And can't you see how uncomfortable he is, draping himself over Jimin, making Jimin drap himself over him?

Oh lordy, truly such an awful eight years Jungkook spent, choosing to have vacations with someone who made him uncomfortable, spending free time with him, even having to suck his ear in public to the point you can see his saliva just because Jimin was sad :( truly an all-around bad time for Jungkook, as evidenced by alllll those times when he said Jimin was pretty, cute, and all-around knowing every little thing about Jimin. I absolutely concur, the dude would be so much more happy if jimin was not in his life.

Did that sound weird and absolutely ridiculous and a really absurd joke? Because that's what y'all sound like to me. Like. Jungkook is out there living his best life, getting hickeys and showered in affection and y'all paint him as a fucking martyr??? I'm sure he's really truly desperate that Jimin holds him in such high regards 😭😭😭 I can see him suffering whenever he starts doing his own serendipity rendition 😭😭 and when he claimed you are me, I am you as his and Jimin's only 😭😭😭 I cannot believe this poor baby 😭😭😭

I've reached a point where every time I hear this stuff I laugh because the levels of twisting reality when it comes to jikook are extraordinary, Jungkook will have a literally blissed out face and people will cry in outrage.

But coming back to my point: let's pretend you're not mad at Jimin and the possibility that jikook are dating: are y'all mad... At the hickey? Because at this point it seems like the only feasible solution. And if you are, do not worry: I'm sure Jungkook's skin was throughly healed by his boo. A kiss soothes even the worst pain, doesn't it?

[mochikeiji]

𝐖𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝟏𝐤! 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 (*^▽^*) 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮!

what is this?

五月 - May

𝐆𝐨! 𝐆𝐨! 𝐆𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 — (inspired after Go! Go! Gojou!) in celebration of this milestone this month of May, requests for the event are now open!

rules / notes

↬ Below are the listed characters that I will be writing for the event; (reminder that these are the only characters I'm currently used to. I have trouble writing for the ones that aren't in the list ^^)

Characters I accept ↴

✧ Haikyuu: Kuroo Tetsuro

✧ Jujutsu Kaisen: Ryomen Sukuna, Megumi Fushiguro, Inumaki Toge, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, Nanami Kento, Okkotsu Yuta

✧ Yuukuko no Moriarty: Sebastian Moran

↬ For this event, I accept only; fluff, angst, hurt/comfort genres!(if ever I might add some suggestive ones, but not as far to nsfw) You may specify what kind of scene you would want to happen!

↬ Simply pick a number from the list below (maximum of 3 prompts) and 1 character of your choice.

↬ Important note: this is my very first event so I'm thinking ahead of the possible outcomes. One, is that there's a high chance I may be delayed in publishing the requests due to them being many or the usual, lack of inspiration and the right mind. Two, like anyone else, I have the right to decline a request if I cannot proceed to write or crank out an idea or generally having a hard time. I write for fun, not as an obligation. Please do not feel bad though! Your requests will serve as a suggestion that may still help me along the way ^^ please please do be patient with me as I will do my best to write for you guys. ♡

event status:

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝!

chip chip! ˎ₍•ʚ•₎ˏ

❝coincidentally I started running this blog back in 2020 of May when I began writing once more. I didn't really think I'd make it this far despite the long hiatus run I've went through and the small amount of stories written. I've had fun sharing whatever I daydreamed every day, it makes my heart soar knowing someone finds comfort in between the words and enjoys them. It's been truly an honor writing for the enjoyment of others and to be able to have fun.

I wish to extend my appreciation and love all the way because these aren't enough to express how I feel right now. Thank you all so much for being so sweet and loving. Supporting and encouraging me all the way. Interacting with me even at the shortest time period. Every thing, I am thankful for. I hope to continue on writing and sharing my ideas for you all to find joy in and to meet more of you on this journey ♡ thank you for being one of my reasons to fall back in love of what I've lost before.❞

prompt list:

1. "You don't mean that, right?"

2. "Even in this life, it's still you"

3. "Don't lie to me"

4. "You're really pretty"

5. "Don't look at me like that"

6. "No, don't cover your smile"

7. "Can you do that again?"

8. "Say something, please"

9. "I just love you"

10. "Do you really want this?"

11. "I'm so sorry"

12. "Please don't cry"

13. "I'm always here for you"

14. "Never in my life have I loved someone this hard"

15. "I don't want someone else, I want you!"

16. "My daily dose of happiness!"

17. "Let's be greedier"

18. "I've lost so many before, I'm not about to lose you too"

19. "Do you still love me?"

20. "You think too much"

21. "Hug your boyfriend/girlfriend!"

22. "I really want to hold your hand"

23. "I don't like the way he looks at you"

24. "Stay longer"

25. "Would you notice if I was gone?"

26. "I would give up everything if it means having you by my side"

27. "Hey, look at me. Keep your eyes open"

28. "Are you jealous?"

29. "I didn't mean it"

30. "You're the only person I'd always run to"

31. "How'd you fell in love with them?"

32. "You idiot, why would you do that?!"

33. "I don't need you to solve every thing! I need you to understand!"

34. "I need you because I love you"

35. "My baby is so cute!"

36. "Let's have another one"

37. "You want to go out now? At 2am?"

38. "You make me the happiest"

39. "Promise me you'll stay with me"

40. "Wake up"

41. "Kiss me"

42. "Don't leave me"

43. "You made this for me?"

44. "Did I do something wrong?"

45. "You're too close." "I can get closer"

46. "I'll protect you with all my life"

47. "Everything I am, I own, is all yours"

48. "I didn't think it was possible to fall in love again"

49. "Mine." "I know but can you let me go?"

50. "Oh, sorry. You were so cute I had to kiss you"

51. "Do you think you'll blush more if I do this?"

52. "Why can't it be just us for once?"

53. "You're the only source of happiness I don't ever want to disappear"

54. "Stop it"

55. "Are you drunk?"

56. "You look like my husband/wife"

57. "Keep doing that and I'll marry you faster"

58. "You're squeezing me." "I just really need to hold you"

59. "I heard you like bad boys." "You have a bad personality, no cap"

60. "Give me a chance"

61. "Sometimes I wonder why I'm with you"

62. "You're nervous? Why?" "Because I really wanna be with you"

63. "Don't scare me like ever again!"

64. "I thought i was going to lose you"

65. "Let me stay for the night"

66. "Bestie please." "Who the hell is bestie? I only know baby"

67. "My world is full of color thanks to you." "I thought you ate a crayon."

68. "I'm trying to be romantic here"

69. "Someone misses me" "I really do"

70. "Can we get married now?"

71. "You looked so angry" "They hurt you"

72. "Do you see that? That there is a beauty and all mine"

73. "You smell so good"

74. "Can I kiss you?"

75. "I knew you love me!" "I do" "What?"

76. "Fess up, which one of you did this?"

77. "Pay attention to me"

78. "Believe me you have no idea how much you mean to me"

79. "Dang someone french kiss me" "Okay let's go."

80. "May I have this dance?"

81. "I'm not going anywhere"

82. "Make a wish"

83. "Wanna maybe go out on Saturday or something?" "Sure!" "Wait what?"

84. "What time is it?" "It's loving times, now come here."

85. "See this? This is my hand." "Why are you holding mine?" "It's MY hand"

86. "I hate you"

87. "What are you looking at?"

88. "Don't take anything away from me anymore"

89. "It's so good to be home"

90. "I love you!" "..." "Say it back!"

91. "I'm gonna go have a long, warm bath" "There room for one more?"

92. "Did you just take a picture of me?"

93. "Comfortable there?"

94. "Is that my shirt?" "You just want an excuse to touch me."

95. "I don't want to be alone again"

96. "It'll always be you"

97. "So poetic" "I know, I got it from google"

98. "Please, I see the way you smile at him/her"

99. "Give me some sugar"

100. "Perfect. So perfect."

— 楽しい時間をお過ごしください！

[solarwonux]

24H || Seuncheol 

mechanic!seungcheol x reader

soulmate!au

w.c: 6.5k

warnings: talks of death, angst, self doubt

note: hello everyone I am not completely back yet, I am still on hiatus. I have been writing this one shot since the release of 24H. I have rewritten it many many many times and have a abandoned it many times as well. Anyway, this is the finished product and I hope you guys like it as much as I do. Thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts. And thank you @sunlightwoo​ for literally witnessing it all lol.

Also maybe one day I’ll post the original draft of this one if anyone is interested. 

P.S. this is a part of a soulmate universe in which all the members are going to have a story, but that’s gonna take a little while lol, but I hope you all stick around until them

masterlist

Hour 1 - 17:00

Seungcheol threw the wrench on the pile of tools next to him before rolling himself out from underneath the car he was working on. “I don’t see the point in it, Shua.” He sat up, grabbing the towel he had next to him, and tried his best to wipe the black smudges of his fingers. “I’m already a disappointment to my parents, why not add one more to their list?” He shrugged, eyeing his best friend who had decided to come and visit him at the car shop he worked at. 

“I think Shua has a point; you can’t brush this off. You don’t want to end up forgotten in a ditch somewhere.” Jeonghan said, pointedly resting his forearms on top of the hood of the car he had been working on. 

“I’m not going to end up in a ditch and forgotten. The higher-ups--” Seungcheol stuck a pointer finger out and pointed at the cement ceiling, “are just going to set me up with someone.” He stood up and brushed off his whitewashed jeans, the only ones he seemed to wear as they had various oil stains etched into the creases of the fabric. In actuality, he had many of the same pair, and each of them had their own unique patterns of different oil stains. 

“But wouldn’t it be better if you married your soulmate, your other half, your partner in crime, the person the Stars destined you to be with,” Joshua spoke in rushed sentences as he ran a frustrated hand through his jet black hair. His wedding ring shining in the light of the sun, glowing in all its glory. A reminder that he had chosen the path that he and Jeonghan were trying to get Seungcheol to take. 

Sometimes curiosity would seep in s when he saw how happy his best friends were with their soulmates, or when the ticking of the clock scarred into the skin of his wrist, and got too loud to ignore. Seungcheol knew he didn’t belong on that path. He was never one to follow the crowd, and the proof was in his parent’s disappointment when he decided to study music instead of medicine. 

“Nope.” He stood up and closed the hood of the car. He could feel their glares burning holes into his scalp as he strode over and opened the driver’s door. “I’m a firm believer that soulmates are made not found.” Seungcheol grinned before getting behind the wheel and inserting the keys into the ignition. He had spent all morning working on a minor problem in the engine; he was hoping that after many failed attempts, he would finally be able to get the car to start again. 

With a deep sigh, he turned the key listening as the engine sputtered a few times. The hope and confidence he had gained diminishing with each hiccup until, finally, the car roared back to life. A sigh of relief leaving his chapped lips along with a light laugh. He rested his forearms against the old battered steering wheel, peering through the windshield, catching Joshua’s nod of disapproval. He turned on his heels and walked out of the large garage door of the shop.

Seungcheol knew his friend’s meant well, and he knew they didn’t want him to end up unhappy with someone that wasn’t his other half. But how was he supposed to be sure that happiness was a given? When at the end of the day, everyone’s given soulmate was chosen at birth by a group of old white dudes calling themselves Stars.

Hour 2 - 18:00

“What are you going to do then?” Jeonghan closed the hood of the car and dusted his hands. His blonde hair grasped the light of the afternoon sun. Seungcheol placed down the paper bag that contained his and Jeonghan’s lunch on top of the aluminum table they kept in the far corner of the shop.  “I don’t know...eat lunch.” He stated, shrugging and started taking the contents out of the paper bag. “Shua leave?” 

Jeonghan rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the hood of the car. He strode over to where Seungcheol was and took the burrito he had held out to him. “Said he doesn’t want to stay and watch you ruin his life.”

“I’m not ruining my life,” Seungcheol sighed, shaking his head and sat on top of the table, unwrapping his burrito. “I’m choosing the road not taken.” He finished before taking a decent bite out of his burrito. 

“That’s ruining your life in my book.” Jeonghan gave him a pointed look and unwrapped the foil of his burrito, cursing when he noticed some its contents start to fall out of its confinement. “Aren’t you at least a little bit curious about how they look?” He dug inside the paper bag and took out a napkin to clean off the salsa stain of his grey graphic tee. Jeonghan rarely dressed down, unless he was working. Though, sometimes he’d show up in outfits Seungcheol always deemed to clean for the oil splatters he would obtain throughout the day. 

“If looks were the all end tell-all, you’d be an actor instead of the owner of your father’s car shop.” 

“Are you calling me sexy, Choi Seungcheol?” Jeonghan gasped, making the other boy scoff in annoyance. Seungcheol took another bite of his burrito, the salsa running down the stubble of his chin and sighed. “Cause may I remind you I am happily married.” Jeonghan jokes, raising his hand, wiggling his ring finger. 

Seungcheol squinted as the ring got caught in the crossfire between the heat and summer sun. The churning at the pit of his stomach started up again, along with the little voice annoying voice that lived in the back of his head. The red block of numbers on the inside of his wrist laughing at him as he tried his best to push the thought to the back of his head. Like he had done his entire life.

“Sure...but that would just be an excuse, and it wouldn’t be fair towards the other person.” He shrugged, finally cleaning his chin the rest of his mouth. He crumpled up the foil in his hands before throwing the ball he had formed into the paper bag. “It wouldn’t matter soon anyway; I don’t have much time left.” He jumped off the table and made his way to shelves where they kept most of the tools along with small spare car parts they might need some time in the future.

“How much time do you have left?” Jeonghan asked a little too exasperatedly than he would’ve liked, but Seungcheol had managed to catch his tone, and it was starting to make him feel uneasy. He closed a drawer he had mindlessly opened and dropped his head. Seungcheol hated looking at his timer because it never brought a good reaction out of him. He hated the way the anxiety would filter in through his veins as he let his mind wander to the what-ifs. 

For as long as he could remember, he only allowed himself to stare at the number scar before bed but never enough to dwell on it. Last night he had twenty-four hours left; now he was positive the timer had reached the single-digit zone, and to be frank, he was afraid. He didn’t want to feel the pressure against his chest and the shortness of his breath. He didn’t want to feel the shaking in his hands and sweat that formed against his brow bone. Seungcheol had already chosen, but he knew that the second he glanced over at the timer, his doubt would start to run free. And he hated that feeling more than anything, but he also hated Jeonghan’s burning gaze staring him down as if he were doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. So he caved. 

He turned his wrist and pushed the bracelets he used to hide his soulmate mark with his other hand. His breath caught itself in the back of his throat, his lungs closing in like two crushing walls as he saw the numbers ticking down. For a split second, he wondered if he had chosen the right path if his parent’s and his friends had been right all along. But he had been so sure just like he was confident that his name was Choi Seungcheol, that he had chosen right, so why was he letting his thoughts take over. 

Maybe it was the teachings of the Stars he grew up reading at home and at school, or the guilt has finally started to consume him. Whatever it was, he decided to push it aside, bury it deep inside the archives of his mind. He had chosen right, and he wasn’t going to let any false pretenses change his mind.

“Five hours.” 

Hour 3 - 19:00

Seungcheol moved the straw of his bubble, creating soft caramel tidal waves in the cup. He had already picked out all the tapioca pearls leaving him to deal with the unpleasant honeydew tea he had ordered. The soft melodies of an old pop song played in the background, drowning out the flirting going on between the lovers in front of him. He kept his eyes trained on his cup; it had started to accumulate the condensation that came with the humidity of the summertime. His index finger traced over the water droplets that had fallen onto the table, creating a small picture of nothing. 

Jeonghan had dragged him to their usual boba shop after closing up the shop for the night. He had given Joshua a frantic phone call, claiming it was a 911 type of emergency. Seungcheol wasn’t sure how they weren’t tired at having the same conversation, and why they couldn’t let him live with the consequences in peace? If he ended up unhappy, that was his problem, and he would eventually deal with it, but he couldn’t stand the way everyone around him always seemed to have an opinion on how he should live his life. 

It had started the day he was born, scarred with a mark against his own will. It carried out onto his childhood, his parents and teachers telling him how to sit, how to dress, how to speak, and how to breathe. When he left for college the same day his parents decided to disown him, he had finally felt free. He thought for himself, walked for himself and lived for himself. But now his best friend’s the ones he thought he could always count on and he felt knew him better than anyone in the world. Where the ones were trying to guilt-trip him into making a choice, he had made years ago, and frankly, he was getting really tired of it. 

“Are you even listening to us Seungcheol, this is your future you're putting at risk,” Joshua whispered angrily, his grip on his cup grew tight enough his knuckles had started turning white. 

“Why does it matter?” Seungcheol lightly flicked the straw of his drink before pushing it away and crossing his arms. Jeonghan and Joshua both looked at him as if he was growing a third head, annoying him even more. He wasn’t sure why this was such a big deal to them, it wasn’t their life getting ruined. 

“It matters because we don’t want to see you dead.” 

Hour 4 - 20:00

“Are you serious? Do you guys actually believe that kind of stuff?” Seungcheol shook his head and looked out the restaurant window. The sun had finished going down for it’s deep slumber and in return awakened the night life of the city. He took in the people smiling and laughing as they joked and clinged onto one another. He saw limbs start to give out as the alcohol they had previously consumed started to replace their blood. Seungcheol found himself wishing he was one of those people, where the one controlling his body wasn’t the one that gave up on their dreams but instead still held onto that small sliver of hope. It would at least be an escape for a little and most importantly it would be an escape from the painful talk his best friend’s were giving him. 

“Fuck you Seungcheol.” Joshua spat out, quickly he stood up grabbing his coat and shrugged it on. “I’m not going to stay with you and watch the clock count down until you die.” He stuffed his hands in his pocket and took out his wallet before throwing some money onto the table. “Are you coming with me?” He said before facing Jeonghan who was biting his bottom lip in contemplation. Seungcheol saw the gears turn in his head as he thought over his options, his eyes traveling between the furious looking Joshua and himself. 

“Joshua calm down, look there have been some cases in the news lately of mysterious deaths and the only thing they have in common is that their timers went out before they got to meet their soulmate. I don’t know if it's all connected but it can’t just be coincidence Seungcheol.” Jeonghan stated, he tapped his forefinger against the wooden table as Joshua eyed him down waiting impatiently. 

“And what if it is, what if I do find this person and then they turn out to be horrible? You guys got lucky but my life has never been a series of unfortunate events since the beginning of time so who's to say this is any different?” 

“If you keep sitting here and mopping and feeling sorry for yourself, you’ll never find out.” Jeonghan nodded before taking out his wallet and throwing money onto the table. He hated the pity he saw behind his eyes. It only frustrated him because to him it felt like they had given up on him already. That they were planning his funeral without him leaving the world yet. Seungcheol wasn’t entirely convinced that death was at the end of this unfortunate journey, he sadly hoped it was. That way his friend’s would actually have something to pity, but he was alive and healthy (for the most part) so their pity in Seungcheol’s eyes was uncalled for. 

“Then let me find out. Everyone is always telling me what I should and shouldn’t do, I didn’t need you guys to also be one of those people too. You’re supposed to be my friends but here you are nagging me like you’re my parents. If I’m not worthy of hanging with you guys anymore because I’m not married and I have no interest in ever getting married then just leave me alone. I’m better off by myself anyway.” 

Seungcheol knew that as soon as the words left his mouth they had been a mistake, but mistake or not he would never take them back. No matter how the luck of hurt flashing in their handsome features affected him more than it should’ve. These few hours could be the last of his life and instead of living it to his fullest with his closest friends he was pushing them away. Just like he always did whenever he felt too comfortable or afraid. 

“Jeonghan let’s just go, he’s already made up his mind. He’s not going to listen to us.” Joshua sighed, the exhaustion was evident on his face. It was clear he had given up long before the events of tonight. He knew how stubborn Seungcheol was, he knew that once he sets his mind to something there’s no way to turn it back. Seungcheol suspected that’s why he hadn’t tried as hard as Jeonghan to convince him to change his mind. 

“Cheol, just think about it okay. You don’t have to go out and actively look for that person but just keep an open mind and they might just appear right before you. I know you think that we’re trying to do this to change you or to get you to settle down, but we don’t want to turn on the news tomorrow and have your names be part of one of the victims. If you can’t do this for us or yourself at least do it for you mom.” Jeonghan nodded one last time before scooting himself out of the booth. He stood sending a glare to Joshua that wasn’t missed by Seungcheol and somehow it made him feel uneasy inside. He didn’t want to be the one to cause a rift between him and Joshua’s friendship, they had known each other longer than they had known Seungcheol. For half of their life’s Seungcheol was simply an outsider between the threesome. He didn’t know at what moment they became inseparable, but now he wished they hadn’t. 

At least they wouldn’t be involved in the webs of Seungcheol’s complicated life, and they certainly wouldn’t be here showing the utmost care for him when he himself felt like he was unworthy of it. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow” Jeonghan mumbled before dragging Joshua out of the restaurant, mumbling angrily underneath his breath. Seungcheol knew the small comment was Jeonghan’s way of holding onto the little amount of hope he had for his friend. The hope that he would walk into the car shop tomorrow morning and see Seungcheol passed out drunk, his drool stain embedded into the checkered pattern of the old battered couch in the office, because he couldn’t remember how to unlock his front door.

Though, it was a phrase full of hope, it wasn’t a promise, and it felt more like a goodbye to Seungcheol. It made him uneasy and Seungcheol hated feeling uneasy because it only made the ticking sound of the clock tattooed onto his skin louder. 

The front door bell to the restaurant sounded, signaling that someone had walked in or out. He turned to face out the window again and saw Jeonghan and Joshua in a heated argument before Jeonghan kept dragging him away by the ear this time. The scene could’ve been comical to him at some point, but now he just wondered if they were all going to be okay by the time the night ended and morning came again. 

Either way it was clear to him that they had walked out of his life, maybe not for good but they also wouldn’t be the first ones either. 

Hour 5 -21:00

Seungcheol paid the bill and exited the restaurant quietly, his best attempt to remain invisible. It would be a lie if didn’t admit how scared he was after Jeonghan and Joshua left him alone with his thoughts for the first time since he awoke that morning. 

Would his faith really be death?

Or where they using their evil tactics against him to convince him to do the right thing. Needless to say he was scared, more scared than he ever was whenever he thought about falling in love. 

He had once, a long time ago, back when he was still studying music production in college, before he dropped out and took up a job at Mr. Yoon’s carshop. During the three years he was there, all the songs he had composed resembled something about her. Whether it was a phrase she had said or the way the color blue seemed to make her honey doe eyes pop. He was in love, head over heels, ready to give it all up, his friends, his pride, his dream, his life, everything under the sun, for her. He had his bags packed long before she had agreed to run away with him. 

In fact, he almost did, but the morning as he stood underneath the winter sun, waiting at the bus stop with two overprized one way tickets, with his fingers threatening to fall off from the cool. Everything became clear to him, she had abandoned him and their plan. She had given up on him, just like his parents had when he first told him he was going to follow his dream, instead of theirs. 

Seungcheol was angry, it boiled inside of him like an overflowing calderon, and the closer he got to the university and his dorm, the more it spilled over. In a frenzy he had entered his home and destroyed everything he owned. His studio setup, his computer, his many notebooks that were filled with lyrics, because everything had been touched by her and he wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Not after she had lied boldly to his face the night before when they shared the most intimate moment with each other. 

And just like he promised to her underneath the moonlight, he gave it all up, but this time because she had broken him. 

There was a letter she had left for him to find. It didn’t come into his possession after he had stopped attending classes and was living on Jeonghan and Joshua’s couch. The university had called him to pick up his belongings from his dorm after he dropped all his classes on whim one Saturday afternoon. When he did, when he opened the front door of the wretched dorm room, the room that once held so many beautiful memories turned sour. The toe of his shoe was met with a brown paper envelope, his name scribbled neatly on the back. Instantly he knew who it was from. 

Seungcheol had once prided himself in memorizing the way her letters curved with one another. A useless talent he now wished he could forget entirely. With a hesitant he opened it and skimmed through, not wanting to linger long enough on every single one of her words so it would hurt less. 

In the end it did.

It hurt more than her leaving him stranded on the bus stop that morning. It hurt more than finding out that the little things she had strategically left at his place had mysteriously disappeared when he came back home that morning. It hurt more than giving up entirely on a dream so pure that it ended up tainted. It hurt more than dying, or so he assumed because now he finally knew the truth. A truth he had been blinded to the entire three years they spent lost in each other’s thoughts and arms. 

She didn’t love, and she never did. She had a passion that consumed her to the point of greed and when she realized she wasn’t going to achieve her dream with Seungcheol at her side. 

She left and he had given up love for good. 

Which is why Seungcheol was so against the entire soulmate phenomenon. If death was the outcome then so be it, even though the thought of his mom finding him out he was dead scared him to the point it welcomed chills to his body. He was stubborn though, and his father always hated that about him because it reminded him of his younger self. But Seungcheol was never going to give in, no matter how loud the click on his wrist was ticking and how fast he found himself walking.

There was a little bit of hope. It was reserved for special occasions and those had been a rarity in Seungcheol’s life for longer than he liked to admit. But it was still there, buried deep inside, behind his walls and his pride. And it was threatening to burst out into the open, because as much as Seuncheol was scared of falling in love again, this time with a complete stranger, terrified him. The thought of not knowing if his life was really at stake was far scarier. He was gambling with his life line and that was a risk he found himself not willing to take. Though he would never admit to himself and especially not to Jeonghan or Joshua. 

He was in complete denial at least for a slight second. Yet, he had started to walk with fever and hastily. He was desperate, he didn’t know where to start or how to start or if he should even start. He just walked, until his body was running on autopilot. He didn’t know where he was going or where  he was going to end up, but the only thing on his mind was that the timer was blaring inside of his eardrums at an alarming rate, and the hope he kept at bay spilling out of his pores. 

He needed to find his soulmate before it was too late. 

Seungcheol didn’t want to die, he still had a dream to achieve. He will do it, he had promised himself that much. And he wasn’t going to let anyone take it away from again. 

Hour 6 - 22:00

Seungcheol was panting, bending over, with his sweaty palms against his jean clad legs as tried his best to put the air back in his lungs. 

He wasn’t sure how long he had been walking, all he could remember was bumping into a few people along the way and mumbling sorry’s underneath his breath when they had sent him glares his way. But he had ended up at the park across the street from his studio apartment, the one he rarely lived in because more often than not. The old raggedy couch at the car shop had been his home for as long as he had worked there. He had bought it last year after saving up enough money, in hopes of it becoming his new beginning, his safe space, where he could jump right back into working on his one goal in life. 

Though, the first night he had spent there, he had hated it. Occasionally he would give it a second chance. He had given it many second chances, but the outcome was always the same. He would stay awake until four in the morning, get frustrated and then end up running laps at the park until sunrise. 

This park had been his sanctuary, the one his apartment couldn’t provide, so it was no surprise his body had carried him here. He felt at home here, the hollowing of the wind chiming and wrapping around him like a blanket of safety. Here, in this park, Seungcheol felt comfortable enough to let his mind race through the thoughts he would keep hidden behind a wall. 

He straightened himself out, running his fingers through his wet sweaty hair and made his way to the park bench by the basketball court, where he would occasionally lay down in the middle and look at the sky, counting the lack of stars in the sky. He knew they were there, but because of the city's light pollution they were invisible to his eye. Those were the only stars he trusted, not the ones that used the Universe’s gifts for their own selfish desires and to control everyone. 

The stars in the night sky, the one’s he used his imagination and intuition to connect with, trusted him. They were the only one’s in his life that believed in him, even when he couldn’t believe in himself, and it made him feel at ease knowing that at least someone out there was rooting for him to win this losing battle.

Seungcheol took a deep sigh and placed his palm over the watch on the inside of his wrist. He had only two hours left, and he would rather not witness the time ticking down. He could hear it, it was drumming loudly against his eardrums, loud enough to the point in which he couldn’t hear the wind and the tree’s surrounding him singing their natural melody. The last thing he needed was to see the visual representation of his last breath nearing him. 

He wanted to fight, but he was tired. If tonight was his last night living a life he had been so cruel to. He would at least take his last breath at the place he felt most at home. 

So, he sat back and closed his eyes tightly. He felt the wind against his cooling skin, the familiar shivers running up his spine. For the first time since he woke up that morning he felt at peace. 

Hour 7 - 23:00

The ringing of his phone startled him. He had only had his eyes closed for about five minutes. Only five minutes of peace before it was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He let out a frustrated sigh and fished out his phone from the pocket of his oil stained light washed jeans. His gaze and heart softened when he realized his mother was the one calling him. Without hesitation he unlocked his phone and placed his phone to his ear.

Silence. He was met with silence, until a choked sob broke it, his heart shattering in the process. “M-Mom, what’s wrong?” Seungcheol sat up. His eyes grew wide. The anxiety running through his body making his leg bounce. 

“Joshua called me. He was freaking out saying that you were making a mistake. What is talking about? You’re not thinking about leaving again?” His mom spoke. Seungcheol could visualize the almost heart attack Joshua had given his mother when he called. He could visualize the color draining from her face as her hands shook while she dialed his number. Seungcheol’s mother was an over thinker and she always thought about the worst possible scenarios. Especially when it came to Seungcheol and his brother. Joshua knew what he was doing when he had called his mother. He knew that his mother was his weakness. Despite the differences they argued about over the years, Seungcheol loved his mother and knowing she was in such distress because of him, scared him more than what he already was. 

“Nothing mom, he’s over exaggerating. Jeonghan, him and I had a small argument earlier but it’s nothing mom. I’m okay.” He spoke into the receiver lying through his teeth. He wasn’t fine, although he was in his sanctuary and at peace. His timer finally reached the fifty-nine minute mark and his heart was racing to the point he was scared it would literally squeeze through the spaces between his ribs and rip through the safety of his skin, onto the concrete pavement beneath his feet. 

“Are you sure? He sounded really scared and worried, what did you guys fight about?” The words came rushing out of her mouth at lighting speed. He knew that question was coming and although he tried scouring through the files in his mind to come up with a concrete answer that would make his mother worry less. He couldn’t. There was no answer he could give her. If she lied she would know, but if he told the truth, his mother would certainly never be able to recover. 

He knew he could prevent her heartbreak. All he had to do was get up and start walking again, let his feet carry him as his intuition and the Universe led him to where he needed to be, but he stayed seated. His hand closing into a fist taking the roughness of his jeans between them, the frustration, fear and anxiety coursing through his veins faster than before. Maybe if he wasn’t such a coward, maybe if he didn’t let his own selfishness consume him to the point it clouded his judgment, he could’ve let himself do what he needed to do. What he wanted to do. 

“It’s not a big deal, Jeonghan asked him to be his best man and I got a little upset. Tomorrow we’ll be fine and laugh about it.” He said letting out the breath he had been holding in. He knew he sounded like he had just ran a few miles rather than sitting down in complete silence and stillness. 

“I know you’re lying but I have been able to get the truth out of you, so I’ll drop it. At least I know you’re okay and you’re still here.” Seungcheol’s mother stopped speaking for a second, he could hear his father whispering something to her and his mother answering in agreement. “Visit us tomorrow, your brother is coming over tomorrow for dinner. Your dad wants to see you.” She half whispered the last part and it brought a slight smile to his face. For years Seungcheol and his father had not been on good terms, whenever they saw each other, his future always became the topic of conversation. His father always shared his disapproval and disappointment on how Seungcheol’s life had turned out. His father expected too much from both him and his brother, he had dreams in which he had tried to instill in them. It wasn’t enough that one of his sons had achieved his dream, his pride was attached to the two of them. And knowing that Seungcheol always refused, always followed the beat of his own drum, wounded his pride. 

His mother and brother always tried their best to bridge the gap between them that had only grown deeper over the years. 

Seungcheol admired their commitment, but just being in his father’s presence fully aware of how he felt towards him was only a simple reminder of what he did not want to become, and it only made him resent him even more. 

“I don’t know mom, I work until late tomorrow and I wouldn’t have enough time to go home shower and change. Maybe some other time.” Seungcheol whispered. The wind blew causing a single leaf to escape its perspective branch. Seungcheol watched it closely as it flew down, landing on his lap. He picked it up in between his forefinger and thumb, twirling the steam as he listened to his mother sigh out. 

“Just come after work...it’s important.” 

Seungcheol wanted to say yes. The simple three letter word was one of the hardest ones to say. With the urgency in his mother’s voice, he knew that she wasn’t lying and that whatever his father had to tell him. It was important. But Seungcheol didn’t want to make a promise he could not keep. For he didn’t know if his tomorrow would ever come. If the last thirty minutes (indicated by the timer on his wrist) would be the last thirty minutes of his life. 

He wondered if it was possible for time to run faster than before, and the quick ticking sound in his head proved that he was right. It was now drowning out the sound of his mother’s low and desperate pleas. 

“M-Mom I’ll see what I can do, maybe if Jeonghan is in a good mood I can convince him to let me off early, I’ll try to be there by dinner time.” The almost empty promise escaped his throat, running past his teeth and perfect lips faster than he could stop himself.

“Perfect. We’ll see you tomorrow.” His mother cheered. He could hear and sense her happiness through the receiver of his phone and it shattered his heart. When tomorrow came and what Jeonghan and Joshua both claimed to be true would happen. What would be his mother’s reaction?

“I’ll try mom, you know I’m not good at keeping promises.” He half joked, the tears had started to pool in the corner of his eyes. He looked up at the night sky, making eye contact with the moon. They had once been intimate, but over the last few months they had been disconnected, the stars surrounding her protecting her from his own selfish needs and acts. He missed her, he wished he could feel her light upon his skin, caressing him and holding him in ways he wanted to be held. Ways in which he needed to be held. Though, he could feel her reluctance as he took in her beauty. She was there with him, keeping him company as the last twenty minutes of his life counted down. 

“You always find a way to keep them Seungcheol. I’ll see you tomorrow night. I love you.” 

“I love you too mom.” He whispered before the line went dead. Seungcheol sighed, bringing down his phone from his ear. He stared at his mother’s contact name, trying to decide if he should call her back again. Tell her that he wasn’t fine that he was scared and that he wanted to be in her arms, singing the song she always sang to him whenever his imagination betrayed him, plaguing his dreams with nightmares. But he didn’t again, his own pride and reluctance, the one he gets from his father and the reason why they clash so much kept him calling her back. 

Instead he looked at his timer one last time, noted that there were ten minutes left and placed his phone down next to him on the bench. He took in his surroundings one last time before leaning his back and closing his tired soft eyes. 

Hour 8: 24:00

“Excuse me?”

Seungcheol opened his eyes upon hearing the sound of the soft voice behind him and the light tap on his shoulder. He sat up quickly looking around frantically. He only had five minutes left and his peace had been disturbed. He turned around his gaze falling upon someone he had only seen in his dreams. 

“You dropped your phone.” You said shakingly, handing him his phone. He assumed that it had fallen through the cracks of the bench; he had been so deep in his thoughts he didn’t hear the thud of it hitting the ground. 

“Oh um, thank you.” He spoke quickly, taking his phone. His fingers accidentally brushed over the soft skin of your wrist, the familiar digital clock appearing before him and the ticking sound became loud enough to the point he couldn’t hear the nagging voice that had stayed with him for the last twenty five years of his life. Quickly he glanced down to his wrist and then at yours, he could feel the fear radiating out of your pores as the seconds counted down faster than the speed of light. 

Seungcheol almost laughed. In fact he felt the laugh suppressing itself in the back of his throat. But as the timer finally reached the infamous zero’s, his last breath didn’t come, and neither did yours. He watched as you looked around frantically before your eyes found his. You let out the sob you had been suppressing for the entirety of the day. Your knees gave up on you and you leaned down hugging your calves, burying your face into your thighs, the sobs came quickly and Seungcheol sat there not knowing what to do. 

It was like his body was acting on his and he stood up, rounding the corner of the bench and crouched down. His shaking arms wrapped around you tightly, running a soothing hand down your back, smoothing out the wrinkles of your navy blue sweatshirt. 

The next words we muttered, were words he never thought he would say again. But again it felt like he wasn’t in control of his body. It felt like after the timer hit the long awaited double zero’s his body belonged to someone else, almost as if he had been reborn again after twenty five years. 

“It’s okay, I am here.” 

[twerkinwithhazza]

Pumpkin Seeds

Author’s Note: UH OHHH BACK AGAIN. I’m back yall finally off hiatus all because my phone is broken LOL. Anywho tumblr is a totally different place and most of my mutuals are adulting now. I would love new tumblr friends and I’m gonna try to continue this writing stuff but I’m busy with adult things now lol and it really depends on if you guys like what you see. Please excuse my rustiness this my first imagine in years... literally. I’ll get better with time. This was also slightly edited but I know there bound to be some mistakes. Anyways watch the Golden music video for clear skin and I hope you guys enjoy!  I think it's so adorable that whoever requested this thought this request wouldn't speak to me lol ! It definitely did because this went from a blurb to a full blown imagine.

psst you can read my other work here!

Warnings: smut smut smut and more smut and possible shitty writing, dirty talk, light choking, and some cursing.

Glossary: (y/c/n)= your cousins name + (y/m/n)= your mothers name

Request: hi!!!! if you are wrtiting for Harry please can you do one where missus and Harry are at a family party and have a quickie in the bathroom? don’t worry if it’s not speaking to you lol xxx

Normally you and your husband loved spending time with your families. Harry was always playing a balancing act between filming music videos, doing interviews, writing sessions, and an occasional date night in the house that always involved a Postmates order from your favorite restaurants and the two of you binge-watching Netflix on shuffle. As much as the both of you enjoyed stuffing your face with poke bowls from Poke Papa and watching True Crime stories, it wasn’t exactly romantic or fulfilling for the both of you, just enough to hold you over until his schedule clears up. So when Harry finally got a weekend off, you guys were ecstatic! You spent the week cleaning the house and meal prepping so no Postmates would be needed and Harry used his free time in between interviews for shopping for special toys and pretty lingerie he wanted to see you model for him. Flirty text messages were sent back and forth during small work breaks about your plans for the weekend and now all the two of you had to do was make it Saturday.

You’re not gonna like this...

The 5 words that destroyed you and Harry’s weekend plans. Anne called while you were organizing your closet and announced that her and Gemma, along with your parents and favorite cousins were coming to town to spend time with the two of you. You tried to convince her that maybe a small dinner party at that new fancy restaurant downtown would be a perfect spot for a get together but she was adamant about coming over to cook the two of you a homecooked meal. Breaking the news to Harry was the worst part, he was clearly devastated (you swore you saw the man shed a few tears). Now here you were stuffing your mouth with Anne’s famous juicy cooked duck instead of your husband's juicy di...

“(Y/N) can you pass me the mashed potatoes”

Your dad’s strong yet muffled voice interrupted your train of thought and broke you out of your horny trance as he chowed down on his meal. Pushing the dish over in your dad's direction allowed you the chance to look around and take a glance at Harry who was making small talk with one of your favorite cousins. He was wearing a black button-down shirt, of course with a few buttons loose, and his cross necklace bounced on his chest as he laughed at your cousin's crazy work stories. You focused on his fingers, his infamous rings adorned his hands, you noted that they were slightly damp from eating and the condensation on his glass cup. As you were drinking in his appearance a small damp spot was forming in your panties but given that there were too many eyewitnesses including, yours and his parents so you chose to just clamp your thighs shut and stuff your mouth with more mashed potatoes. 

Harry deserved his credit as a husband. Despite his calm demeanor, he was very well aware of your little ordeal yet still managed to give interview advice to (y/c/n) and compliment your mom’s cocktail mix. He was quite amused by how increasingly frustrated you were becoming. He noted your concentrated face as you munched harshly on a string bean, hands clenching onto the fork for dear life. He decided to do a little temperature check to truly see how far gone you were.

“So what are we thinking for dessert pecan pie or crumble cake ?”, Harry questioned as he stuck his fork in his mouth, pulling it out again once all the gravy was licked clean. Your eyes finally met and you can tell that he was tossing the ball in your court, it was your job to show him how you wanted the game to be played.

“Mmm I don’t know I guess I’ll have some pecan pie but I really wish I had some pumpkin seeds”, you flatly said as you finished sipping your wine, maintaining full eye contact with him.

Pumpkin seeds. You and Harry were “outside of the box” thinkers, you had to be with his life as a celebrity not exactly pairing well with your shared sexual fantasies. You had code words to indicate to each other when you were craving the other one's touch, but you knew that using the same words around friends, family, and other public figures for too long would possibly cause some suspicion. So your code words changed with the seasons, literally. When the leaves started turning that classic golden yellow and auburn, your code words changed thus came the use of the word Pumpkin Seeds.

Gemma and your mom shared a glance, raising their eyebrows in collective confusion.

“Pumpkin seeds.. For dessert ?” Gemma finally burst out., both of your mothers soft laughter followed in the background.

“Heyyy” ,Harry pouted as he bopped Gemma on the nose with some gravy ,“ I have you know Pumpkin Seeds are one of our favorite midnight snacks”. 

“Gross“, Gemma stuck out her tongue and wiped her nose. You couldn't tell whether she was referring to the gravy on her nose, your choice of midnight snacks, Harry’s smug statement followed by a wink at you, or a combination of all three.

“Well we can be concerned with dessert once we break out the baby pictures, I’ve been dying to see the infamous skinny dipping picture (y/m/n) has been telling me about”. Anne clapped her hands together and hopped out of her seat heading to the kitchen. Your mother followed behind but not before instructing you to head up to the attic to retrieve the pictures. You glanced at Harry but he seemed occupied cleaning up the dinner plates with your dad. You let out a frustrated huff and made your way up to the attic to grab the photo albums. 

As you shuffled through old boxes holding Harry’s old tour outfits and your little knickknacks from your travels, you heard the attic door open.

“Pumpkin seeds huh?”, Harry lightly chuckled letting the attic door close and leaning against the door frame. 

You refused to make eye contact with him, continuing to shuffle through the bins locating a few photo albums as you went , “It was only a matter of time Harry and you know it. Our weekend got stolen and we haven’t... ya know in like two weeks. So, yes Harry I want some damn pumpkin seeds.”

You let out a huff. You didn’t mean to come off so sassy and aggressive but you were frustrated… sexually. Your cousin was getting more Harry time in the 3 hour family dinner than you had gotten in the past two weeks. You stacked the photo albums gently on top of each other and cradled them in your arms, finally turning to face your husband but you didn't have to look very far. Harry had closed that gap between the two of you, gripping your face and making you look up at him causing you to drop the albums in shock. 

“Well let’s get you your pumpkin seeds then”

That’s all it took and sparks turned into a flame, you and Harry’s bodies connected and a feverish makeout session broke out. You both were so hungry for each other after weeks of neglects and it just felt so damn good to finally connect. Harry’s wet kisses were making their way down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. You knew he was getting into it and normally you would be completely here for it if your kitchen wasn’t flooded with family members waiting to laugh at your baby pictures.

“Baby.. we… fuckkkkk”, You moaned out as Harry popped one of your nipples out of his mouth before moving to nip on the next one. “Baby we can’t your mom is downstairs… we have to go”, you finally let out and glanced down at your husband as pinched your nipples between his finger tips. “When has that ever stopped us”, he slyly laughs. In one swift motion, he turned you around pulling your back into his chest pulling down your skirt. You couldn’t even get words of protest out, Harry had his hands wrapped around your neck and was already freeing himself from his pants and boxers. He pulled your panties to the side and let out a hiss as he watched a string of your arousal stretch from your dripping flower to his fingers.

“Baby please just do something”, you huffed out a soft moan as you waited in anticipation. The grip around your throat tightened as he entered you, both of you letting out a sigh of relief. Harry completely bottomed out inside of you, touching that special spot that only he could. Your walls clenched around him, holding him in snug almost as if your pussy was begging him not to leave. Normally the two you were very vocal during sex from dirty talk to his loud moans and your even louder cries of pleasure. However you both knew that wasn’t possible right now and kept your moans down as much as you could. Harry was not making it easy though and the noise coming from the two of your bodies colliding were basty in the best ways possible. With every thrust of Harry’s hip you could hear your wetness coating Harry dick and as Harry picked up the speed his balls roughly tapped on your clit, only adding to your pleasure. You could barely form thoughts let alone sentence, Harry was literally fucking you silly and using your G-Spot as punching bag for his dick, The sounds and the pleasure were clearly getting to Harry as well, the grip he had on your hips grew tighter and his eyes were squeezed shut. 

“Bloody fucking hell you’re so tight around me, can’t even take it”, he groans and throws his head back as he roughly draws your hips into his. It didn’t even feel like it was possible but Harry picked up the speed of his thrust continuing the assault on your poor needy pussy even further. The pleasure was all too much and that oh so familiar feeling hit the pit of your stomach and you were starting to lose your composure. Your moans were getting increasingly louder and your grip on Harry was growing tighter. Harry knew his wife and he knew your dam was getting closer and closer to breaking and he was determined to get you there. He placed a hand over your mouth and moved his other hands down to your clit rubbing it in slow circles. “ Look at you” he cooed cockily, “Taking me so fucking well like a good girl should. Barely let out a scream ‘cus you don’t want your parents to hear how much of a cock whore you are”. He knew you wouldn’t last long with the way he was talking to you and he was absolutely correct because his words were driving you insane. As the pressure was continued building up in your stomach, you felt the telling twitch in Harry’s dick that let you know he was approaching his end too.

“Gonna give me what I want uh? Gonna cum all over my cock and let me cum in that tight little pussy of yours. You gotta hold it in.. don’t want to leave any drops for our guest to find huh? Gonna be a good girl and hold all my cum in you?”, Harry grunted into your ear as you whimpered against his hands. You were seeing stars and feeling butterflies in the pit of your stomach and you knew it was only a matter of time before you both came undone.” Oh baby”, you whined and your head fell down as the pressure from your stomach finally was released as your orgasm spilled out all over Harry’s dick and thighs. The gushing feeling from your orgasm and your weak whimpers and cries drove Harry overboard, burying his face in your neck and his roughly groaning as he released inside of you. The two of you stayed connected for a bit, thighs stuck together thanks to your shared orgasm with Harry’s arm wrapped around your waist supporting both of your weights up as you composed yourselves. When he finally pulled out of you, you kept every drop he gave you tucked inside your tight walls just as promised. 

“So those Pumpkin Seeds huh”

[celestialrry]

call me baby

psa: this might have a part 2 if anyone wants it, ik its a shitty ending lol but I wouldn’t know what to write after this. also I have another angst piece in the works but its literally taking so long to write 😖

1.8k

summary: Being hopelessly in love with your friend isn’t ideal, especially when Harry doesn’t even seem to see you as more than a therapist. 

warnings: angst, pining, cursing

You looked over at your phone, now vibrating against your bedside table, lit up with his contact photo, a picture of him sticking his tongue out. “Hi.” You picked it up, wrapping your free arm around your torso, sitting up a bit straighter out of instinct even though he couldn't see you.

“Hey, love. Can I get some advice?” He asked through the phone, his voice a bit gravely and deep as always. You silently sighed, biting your lip in hesitation. Everytime you’d get a call from him, he would either rant about his current partner, get advice about them, or just want you to be there when he needed someone to talk to.

Of course you would always be there for him, regardless of time, space, and anyone he gave his heart to. He was Harry Styles for god's sake, your friend since forever, the man who treated everyone like they were the best thing in his life, most of the time at least. He lit up any room he was in and when you’d see him it would always be fulfilling, even if the two of you sat in silence in a room of just four walls.

“Of course, what’s up?” You asked after a brief moment of silence. It was currently 4 in the morning in your single room flat in London and you didn’t think Harry knew that, but you weren't going to tell him.

“It’s just, Ana’s has been so clingy lately and we’ve only been together officially for 3 weeks. It’s making me want to end things.” Harry admitted into the phone. You almost rolled your eyes at his words. Not once has he called you to ask about you in months, but that's just how things were. You weren’t sure why you expected anything else.

“If you aren’t happy with her, end it,” You spoke up after a while, unsure if you were giving him the advice because you were desperate to be with him or it was genuinely what he should do.   “There’s no point in being with her if you’re considering ending it over her being clingy.”

You heard him sigh into the phone before speaking up. “Yeah, we’ll see, thanks,” He said your name. You smiled a bit at that. It was crazy how he could make you feel so special by just the tone of his voice, absurd, really,

“ ‘Course. So-” Before you could say anything else you heard the beep of the phone being hung up. You took a deep breath, trying to think of how Harry and you were before everything changed.

2 years ago

“I can’t believe you’re officially moving to L.A.” You said as you stood in his bedroom doorway, watching him pack up his last few clothes.

“Me neither.” He simply said.

Before you could stop it, you felt a salty tear roll down you cheek. As you wiped it away, he turned around, his face dropping all previous joy, concern flooding his features.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He used the nickname he gave you 11 years ago when we were 10. It was crazy how the two of you had known each other so long, and now you were both 21, and he would be living in the city of angels.

“Just gonna miss seeing you as often as I usually do is all.” You laughed, the tears flowing more freely now. One Direction had just gone on hiatus and after spending some time at home, Harry decided to switch it up a bit. You didn’t understand why he couldn’t just switch it up by not wearing skinny jeans everyday, but it seemed he wanted something bigger than that.

He pouted and walked over to you, giving me a hug before mumbling in your ear, “I’ll call you everyday. Promise.”

Promises were made to be broken, it seemed. He only calls you when he needs a hand, and only answers if he’s alone. You wish you found it more frustrating than painful, maybe that way it would be easier to move on, but you have yet to do so. You’ve asked yourself why you were still silently pining over him, with no answer in sight.

The last time you saw Harry in person was almost a year ago, when he came back to visit his family. Up until that trip he called you everyday, or close too, wanting to know about you day or he just “wanted to hear your voice”. Then when we were together it was like no time had passed while he was away.

1 year ago

“Oh shut up.” You scoffed, lightly punching his bicep.

He just laughed in return, rubbing his arm acting like you had actually hurt him.

“I feel like you just got back and now you’re leaving again,” you said after a bit, knowing he was leaving the next morning. “Plus,” you added, gently playing with his hair. “I’m gonna miss your hair, it’s so fun to braid.”

He looked over at you as your hand fell to rest on his shoulder, running your fingers through his curls. “I know, but I’ll come back soon. I’ll try not to cut my hair for you, don’t worry.” He smiled at you, leaning over and pulling you into a hug.

You just returned his grin and hug, and stuck your fingers through the ringlets, having way too much fun with his hair. You noticed he was looking at you the entire time you were messing with his hair, but you convinced yourself it was because he had nowhere else to look.

Eventually, you were so close to him you could see freckles you never had before. Your breath hitched, not knowing if you should backup or not, your hand still resting on his shoulder in his curls. Then all of a sudden he was far away again, and it was like nothing had ever happened.

Your heart ached with the love you had for Harry, and it seemed nothing could cure it except him and when you woke up the next morning and instinctively checked your phone, you frowned as you noticed no notifications from the one person you truly wanted to hear from.

You weren’t sure when your hurt extended from the pain of practically losing a friend to the pain of not being able to be with someone you love. You weren’t sure when you started seeing his lips as kissable and not something to put lipstick on for fun. You weren’t sure when you started looking at his hands as something to hold and not as a blocker for your playful punches.

You weren’t sure when you started stealing glances more than you usually did or avoiding eye contact because it made you nervous. You weren’t sure when your stomach was no longer empty and then filled with butterflies. You weren’t sure when he stopped calling just to talk, or when he stopped picking up. All you were sure of was that you were hopelessly in love with someone who could never feel the same.

                                                            ✧˖*°࿐

He called a few more times about the same girl, Ana. You had spoken to your friend about it, and you were slowly getting over him. Each time you were getting cut off and hung up on, and it took a really long time for you to know you deserved better. He hadn’t called you since he attempted once and you didn’t answer. It went on for a few months, he would call you almost everyday, alongside texts like “Hello?”, “Pick up, please?”, and the text that came last before you blocked him, “Are you okay?”. He didn’t deserve to know, and sure maybe you shouldn’t have just cut off all contact, but there was no other way to get over him.

A month after you blocked him, and you were no longer sulking when you checked your phone and no longer crying to sleep. You were becoming happy thanks to your self control, and finally learning that just because Harry didn’t love you, didn;t mean you shouldn’t love yourself.

You were sitting on your couch when there was a knock at your door. You looked up from the book in your lapa and stood up, scurrying to the door, not wanting the person at the other side to be waiting.

You swung it open, met with the last face you expected to see. He looked concerned almost, and almost immediately you were wrapping in his arms, after over a year he was holding you once more. Except this time you didn’t want it. You pushed him off of you and stepped back. “What are you doing here Harry?” You asked, a scowl on your face.

“I-y’wouldn’t answer me and then nothing went through, god, I was so worried, love-”

“No,” You shook your head. “Don’t call me that, you can’t just come here after being an asshole to me for over a year. You are not allowed to be worried about me, not when you haven’t bothered to ask how I am after all this time.”

His mouth dropped open in shock, you were always so calm, you never had yelled at him before. “I’m sorry-”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” You pursed your lips.

“Just let me explain,” He said, hesitating like he was trying to find an answer to this, but you knew whatever he told you, nothing would change. “I-when we saw each other last, we almost kissed, or at least I almost kissed you, I love you, I was so scared that y’wouldn’t feel the same, and I guess I got caught up in trying to make you jealous. Please, m’so sorry.”

He took a step towards you and you took two steps back. There was no way he felt the same as you did- you had. And even if he did, you always knew he was shit at handling feelings, but there was no excuse.

“No, you can’t do that, say that. I don’t care if you mean it or not,” You began, tearing up. “That-thats’s so fucking terrible to do to someone, especially if you love them. I’m tired Harry, I’m done with you, I’ve been done with you for months.”

“What?” He asked, like he couldn’t believe you.

“Please leave.”

Your heart broke at your own words, but you couldn’t forgive him. Not now, and maybe not ever.

“Please I-”

“I said leave, Harry.”

You could see his watery eyes as he opened his mouth to protest once more, but then closed it. There was nothing he could say. Not anymore. He was always leaving, but this time, for the first time, you wanted him to.

[dollfaced-erin]

Not So New Afterall (Sdv Sebastian x F!Reader)

A/n: Hi! Hi!! Rin here again! It’s been quite a while since I’ve written, and this may be one of my last chapters before I got on a hiatus. School’s opening up soon, and I’m a hostel student. Currently, this is my last year, so by the end of this year, I’ll be updating lots more! (And playing alot more Stardew valley hehe)

This chapter may be more Abigail centered, since the friendship between the two is really necessary for the plot.

Ah, one more thing, the clothing choices will be based on a mod in Stardew Valley, cute seasonal clothing for NPC’s

Oh plus, Sebastian’s gonna be that emo jerk, ya hear me? Don’t go coming at me for that please :’)

CHAPTER THREE

It’s been a few weeks since (Y/n) had moved in, and apparently, had been settling in just nicely. Not only was she doing well with the farm, she was starting to get along with the all the villagers of Pelican Town. Especially the bachelors and bachelorettes around her age. 

Namely, Abigail and Sam.

Speaking of the duo, they had been hanging out with (Y/n) whenever she was free. But she seldom was, since she had to maintain her income by doing other work such as fishing, mining for mineral goods and doing odd-jobs for those around the town and they respected her.

Sebastian too hasn’t seen her recently, except during the moments she come to his house to talk to Robin about the farm buildings when he comes out to get lunch (or breakfast, for his case), or when she passes by on her way to the mines when he was taking a smoke. She would always slip in a brief hello and the two would exchange a few words before she was well on her way.

(Y/n) wasn’t always one to take a breather, not when she has so many things to take care of. Harvey apparently told Maru who told Robin, who told Sebastian, who told Sam, who told Abigail that (Y/n) had passed out numerous times from exerting herself too much. So the two put their heads together to get her to relax a little. 

Abigail was staring out into the clear blue stream that flowed beneath the stone bridge she stood on. The fish were swimming happily beneath her and she smiled in delight. Oh how she wished she could be as carefree as the fish. 

“Ah! I got it!” a familiar voice exclaimed from behind her. 

Abigail whipped her head around, her purple locks swaying as she did, as she turned around to see her (h/c) friend with a bamboo pole clutched in her hands. 

“Oh, wow! It’s a big one!” Abigail shrieked in excitement, her green eyes shining with pure joy. “Come on, (Y/n)! You got this!” she cheered, her hands in determined fists as she watched her friend reel in the marine life. 

“Ah!” (Y/n) exclaimed, as she successfully reeled in a silver-grade Shad. 

“You did it!” Abigail cheered childishly. Then, she stopped as her face beamed red. It was quite rare of her to have an outburst like this, she was usually so reserved to people she didn’t really know. 

She glanced at the (s/c) girl next to her, who was quite pleased with her catch. But ever since this girl moved in, she, without a doubt had shared her interests with the said girl, leading to many long and exciting conversations. 

Abigail admits that (Y/n) is a worthy as a cool enough gal to hang out with the gang.

“Yo, (Y/n). Me and the gang are hanging out at the Saloon tonight. You down?” Abigail asked with occasional her city-girl slang. (Y/n)’s head whipped around to face her, her (e/c) eyes gleaming. “You and the gang? You mean Sebastian and Sam?”

Abigail nodded as she let out a slight chuckle. “You bet. It’s some kind of tradition for us, and I thought maybe you should join us sometime,” Abigail invited as she flashed a quirky smile with her pearl white teeth.

She was hoping so bad in her heart that the girl would say yes, she really wanted some girl time with another female after so long with only boys. Agh, that must have sounded so bad, she scolded herself. She was literally gonna die if (Y/n) said no after she had put up that ‘macho’ front.

“If the boys don’t mind me around, sure why not? I could use some sweet free time, with my bestie,” said (Y/n) as she nudged her elbow with the purple-haired lady, a similar teasing smile on her lips. 

“Great! Meetup starts at 5, game starts 30 minutes after,” Abigail said. (Y/n) nods her head, “Thanks, I’ll head on right over after settling my shipments for the day! Can’t go on without making progress on the farm, huh?” 

The two parted, leaving Abigail to look at her reflection one last time in the crystal clear river, before heading off to the game room of the Stardrop Saloon. Her smile was so wide, she got lots of odd stares from her parents, since she was such a cold and shut-out girl, and to see her like this really shocked her parents. 

“Honey, what’s got you in such a mood?” Caroline asked, as she passed her daughter as she lent Evelyn a hand whilst tending the community gardens. “Ah, it’s...it’s nothing, Mom!” Abigail said, her smile immediately morphing into one of shock.

“Is it Sebastian, Robin’s son?” Caroline teased, making Abigail shake her head furiously. “No, Mom! It’s not him!” she protested, her face getting slightly redder. 

“Hmm, then I don’t suppose it’s that charming farmer that hung out with you a moment ago?” the green-haired lady teased once more.

 “Uh-(Y/n)?! No! It’s really not!” Abigail protested more, more aggressively once more, realizing her mom was spot on. The woman laughed lightly at her daughter whilst the young woman stormed off in frustration. 

“I know it’s both of them,” Caroline smiled delightfully. Maybe the farmer’s presence really would bring a good change to the community, and most importantly, to her daughter.

“You said (Y/n) was joining us?” Sam said ecstatically as he plopped down on the red sofa in the corner of the arcade room. Abigail nodded triumphantly, since Sam had been trying to really hard to strike up an interesting conversation between the two before it fades down to awkward silence.

“I’m telling you, she’s this really cool girl type. She won’t let your conversation die down!” Sebastian heard the female tell, as soon as he stepped into the Saloon. 

“Yo, Seb!” Sam greeted, raising a hand, as the male responded similarly, before tucking his hands into his pockets of his hoodie once more. “So, who’s one to not let your story die, huh, Abby?” Sebastian teased, indirectly telling her just how loud she was.

“It’s not that frequent I hear you praising someone so generously,” he said, plopping himself right next to Sam. Abigail huffed and crossed her arms, “Oh, come on, Seb! You know she’s an out-going person,” she said before her expression morphed into one of teasing. 

“Oh, right. You don’t spend much time out of your room to know about the outside,” she teased, making an irk mark appear on Sebastian’s forehead. “Excuse me? I’m working my butt off from programming, mind you,” he said.

“Hey, (Y/n)!” Gus greeted, and a loud hello from Emily.

“It’s rare to see you here, but how’re you doing?” Pierre asked, as the said girl entered their vision. It seems that she had groomed and cleaned herself thoroughly before coming, her (h/c) hair slightly shiny from water, and her bright skin that was earlier much redder from heavy-duty. Her clothes also seemed to have changed from her dirt marred blue pants and black shirt to a white shirt with a light blue jacket and light blue skirt.

“I’m doing great! The seeds I got are sprouting just nicely!” the girl praised, earning a hefty laugh from Pierre.

After greeting those that have called out to her, she made her way over to the trio that had invited her over. “Wow, didn’t know she was this well-known since she’s new and all,” Sebastian muttered.

“Haven’t you heard? Mayor Lewis put (Y/n) in charge of mending the old community center, and everyone’s buzzing about it!” Sam said, quite surprised at his friend’s reaction. “She’s starting to get on great terms with my mom, and Vincent totally likes her,”

Abigail nodded in agreement, “Yeah, Dad has been boasting that (Y/n)’s been preferring our goods over Joja’s,” she said making Sebastian scoff lightly. 

“New and already a people-pleaser?” Sebastian said, quite sour with how easy (Y/n) managed to round everyone’s attention within a small time span.

Sam slapped his back in a friendly way, “Hey, sooner or later you’re gonna have fun with her too,” Sam said. Typical Sam, a cliche optimistic guy.

“I’ll see if she’s a good enough lass to hang around,” he said as he stood up and picked up his personal favourite cue stick. “Let’s see how well she plays pool,” he said, a slight smirk on his face making colour drain from Abigail and Sam’s faces. 

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late! I picked up a few things I wanted to hand out,” the girl said as she racked a hand into a small pouch. (Y/n) then approached Abigail and gestured a hand.

Abigail was legit scared that (Y/n) would put something she hated like...like spiders. But (Y/n) laughed it off and said she wouldn’t stoop that low. The said girl placed a fistful of cold small...things on the pale girl’s hand.

When she released her hand, turns out (Y/n) had placed a fistful of Amethysts in her hand. “I saw this in the mines and thought about your purple hair, do you like it?” she asked.

“Like it? I love it! You’re the absolute best, (Y/n)!” Abigail gushed before the multi-job farmer turned to Sam. 

“I heard from your mom you love this, and I got plenty,” (Y/n) said as she produced a tin of Joja cola and handed it to Sam. “Yo, thanks! I really like this! Thanks a whole bunch, (Y/n)!” 

“And, Sebastian!” she said, as she held her fist behind her back, her other hand fiddling with her pouch. “Don’t think you can be friends with me that easi--” he was cut off by a forceful pull taking his arm and stretching it out, the palm open. 

“Ah, you were already waiting for something?” the girl teased, making the other two snicker as the ravenette’s face turned red and looked away. “N-no,” he stuttered as he felt something warm then cold press into his palm.

He looked back into the open hand, a lovely crystal blue item resting on it, other than the slender body part that held his hand. A frozen tear. Sebastian looked at (Y/n) in disbelief. But the latter just smiled cheekily.

“I reached level 53 in the mines yesterday, and saw this little beauty. Looks like you, don’t you think?” she asked, a playful smirk on her lips as her gaze lingered to her feet. 

Sebastian’s eyebrow lifted, as he expected the girl to continue what she was saying. “Small, and cold, don’t you agree?” she teased as Abigail and Sam burst out laughing. 

Sebastian’s eyebrows furrowed in slight anger but more to amusement and his expression turned into his sour one (y’know, like one of his sprite design). “Sorry, sorry,” (Y/n) laughed. “But no, actually, it just reminded me of you, no lie.”

“Thanks,” Sebastian said, his face reddening as he realized he hadn’t pulled his hand from hers. “I...I really like this. How did you know..?” he trailed off. “Instinct, truthfully. You look like someone who loves things from the mines, am I wrong?”

“Right,” Sebastian said, before picking up another cue stick, handing it to her. “(Y/n). Wanna play a game of pool?” he asked, or more like challenged, as the two cheered slightly in the back. Abigail clutching onto Sam’s sleeve and he clutched her hand in slight panic to (Y/n) answer.

A small smile graced her plump pink lips, as the maiden accepted the stick the male held out for her to take. “I’m not too good at this, but I’ll give it a shot.”

[ravenspeakmuses]

Sem-Hiatus (30/12/2022) This is a low activity blog *Hello* everyone, my name is Sandra, you can call me Sandy or by my full name, as you wish, I’m 33 and I’ve Rplaying on tumblr since 2012, took a break around 2016 as my real life got in the way, and I’ve been back since late 2020. 

I like to think of myself as a friendly person, I’m always willing to chat, this blog used to be a part of a group I started years ago with the help of a RP buddy, so I’m going to keep the old posts and I count them for Lucien’s back story. 

My ask is always open, I’m willing to do cross-overs and fandomless threads for my muses, I’m more than willing to write with ocs, everyone is welcomed! never be afraid to poke me of you wanna write, also if we’ve been interacting for a while feel free to ask for my discord!

Muses

Muses only played upon request

Open Starters

Wanted connections

Rules under the cut! 

Frist of all, I’m a very opened person so never be scared to ask me for plots, even if you think they don’t fit, I’m sure we’ll be able to come up with something.

I’m of age and so are all my characters but I will not write smut. If our characters are in a relatioship, I’m okay with the leading up to, but there’s a point I’m going to ask you to fade to black, please respect that, I do not like to write full on sexual scenes do not push me into this. Goes without saying, if you're a minor then, I'm sorry but as 33 year old person, I'd rather not write with you.

Unless its needed to fit the RP scenario, a crossover or a fandomless verse so our muses can intereact, this will mainly be a single verse blog. Most of my muses are human, but I can and am willing to do supernatural verses.

If you have any questions, want to chat, want to plot ALWAYS feel free to reach out.

Replies will be slow, I am adult with a job and other hobbies and blogs, so sometimes its going to be hard to catch up, feel free to poke me if I’ve gone too long without replying.

I am willing to do Discord RP, but I need to have interacted with you, at least ooc a couple of times to feel comfortable doing so

It goes without saying : NO FORCE SHIPPING!!!!

English is not my main language, please understand and excuse me if I make any mistakes, as much as I put in the efford sometimes it happens.

My opens are mutuals and non-mutual unless stated otherwise. And always opened to be picked up at any time.

As for following, I’m not that selective, usually I always follow back, however if I don’t, please don’t take it personaly, it’s either me not wanting to approach certain plots, or wanting to take myself away from certain things for my own sake. If I follow you and than unfollow after a while, it simply means we probaly never interacted and I want to keep my dash clean, which leads me to the next point, I will unfollow if you don't cut post and I have to scroll trough a lot, I'm sorry, its nothing personal, but its a bit annoying to me. However this doesn't mean I won't write with you.

Regarding Fcs, as long as you're not using someone under 18, someone who asked not to be used, or has done some really bad things then its fine. You should be able to pick whoever you want, and I don't chery pick fcs, I care about your character not the FC you use for them. If you have low resources or none at all, its not really my place to not write you over that, I'm okay with not using GIFs, icons etc. In the end we're here to write, right? 😁❤️

I also ask of you not chery pick my fcs either. I understand if you're a fan of someone I'm using, and of course I will write that character with you, but please look at the character not their face. I've had some bad experiences with this, which is probably why I like to stick with mostly underused fcs for my characters.

I’ll do my best to TW anything I see that can cause triggers to other, but if you see anything in my content that I’ve forgeten to, pease feel free to tell me.

I like ships as much as everyone, but I don’t usually plan ships, unless with my closest RP friends, I usually go with chemistry. 

Goes without saying I do not tolarate any kind of drama, I’m only here to write and have fun, so please be respectful! 

That is all, thank you so much for reading all this, the rules as mainly for you to know what I’m opened to, so there’s no confusion on any of the parts, have a good day and happy writting!!

[lizisshortforlizard]

Living Dangerously - Chapter 13

Jurassic Park’s animal handlers: none of them ever mentioned by name in Michael Crichton’s original novel. Who were they? What were their lives like on Isla Nublar? Did any of them survive the disaster?

A year in the life of those responsible for the care of the dinosaurs. Many people would kill to have their jobs.

But would they die for it?

Jurassic Park novel/Jurassic Park film (1993)

Viewpoint: 3rd person female oc

Warnings: Alcoholism is a theme in this chapter. Also the 1st part is very dark, it’s a flashback to Lizzy’s difficult childhood. Serious injury (no blood), physical and verbal abuse by a parent. Sexism and racism run rampant.

Word count: ~30.4k (13 Chapters) [incomplete]

Tagging: @howlingmadlady @heresthefanfiction @ocfairygodmother hit me up if you want added to the list

Back from an unplanned hiatus with an EXTREMELY LONG chapter! Also the first part is in Scots dialect, I hope it makes sense!

Read on Ao3

Chapter 12 | Chapter 14

Gold Dust Woman - Fleetwood Mac

Govan, Scotland

1973

“Mam’s on the sauce again.” Isla rolled her eyes at Lizzy while she helped plate up sausage rolls and packets of crisps onto mismatched, chipped crockery. They were both standing in the cramped galley kitchen, jostling for space. “We’re doon a bottle of Buckie, or as she calls it ‘whit the feck are ye lookin’ at?’. She snuck it intae her room.”

“Gie it a rest, would ye?” Lizzy snapped at her younger sister. Her heart sank, hurt that her mother couldn’t even keep it together for a few hours. “It doesnae matter. At least she’ll be oot the way when everwan comes o’er.”

“Is yer da coming?”

Lizzy tried not to look bothered and shrugged. “Ah dinnae ken. Ah hope so.”

“Cannae be a bad thing if Mam’s passed oot when he gets here.” Isla poked an errant cube of cheese back onto a plate with a powder-blue polish tipped finger. “Daft idea, ha’en a pairty, ye eejit.”

“It’s no’ a pairty.” Lizzy insisted. She had turned fifteen that very day. She wanted something more grown-up than just going down to the Clydebank to get mashed with her friends like she usually did.

First, a gathering. Food and drink that she’d spent several months paper round wages on, maybe some board games. Then she would go down to the river with her friends once night fell. She’d invited boys from school too. Lizzy had spent all morning cleaning their dingy ground-floor tenement flat in preparation, but she was worried it wasn’t enough. Poor. They were poor. It was obvious. Even in her best clothes that would soon be hand-me-downs for Isla. Maybe her sister was right. Maybe it was a daft idea.

But all that went out of her head when her friends began to arrive. Lizzy kept glancing at the door to the hallway, keeping half an eye her mother didn’t resurface, and hoping that her father would.

Around four the bell rang and Lizzy leapt up to answer it. She was surprised her mother had even agreed to the party- sorry, gathering, but it was the perfect excuse to see her father on her big day. She’d been praying for ages that she would see him again soon.

Please please please. Let it be him.

“Ah thought ye’d fergotten.” She said shyly once she opened the door.

“How could ah ferget ma wee girl’s birthday?” Her father pulled her in for a hug. “Well, yer no’ sae wee anymair.”

“Are ye’ stoppin’?”

He glanced past her. “I, eh-“

“Mam’s no’ aroond.” Lizzy said tightly, half-lying. It’s was unlikely she’d appear any time soon. “Please.”

Her father nodded. “Aye, just a quick wan then.”

They went straight to the kitchen, Lizzy plucking at her blouse nervously. Her best friend Maisie came bustling in with an empty plate, on the hunt for more sausage rolls.

“Everwan’s haein’ a right laugh. And Connor cannae stop gawkin’ at you, Liz-“ Maisie smiled. “Oh, hi Mr Armstrong.”

“Connor, eh?” Her father raised an eyebrow. “Future son-in-law?”

“He’s no even asked me oot yet Da. An’ keep it doon, or he never will.”

“Aye, right enough. Got something for ye. Open it.”

Wrapped in brown paper that smelled suspiciously like fish and chips, was a sterling silver necklace with the initial L on a thin chain.

So like her father. Intention, flawless. Execution, questionable.

“Oh, that’s bonny!” Maisie said, peering over Lizzy’s shoulder, genuinely impressed.

She could never wear it. She’d have to hide it, or it might mysteriously disappear and return in the form of a shopping bag whose contents would clink together.

“Thanks, Da.” Lizzy’s smile faded. “Did ye nick this?”

“As if I’d dae a thing like that! Nah, I saved up, for ma wee Busy-Lizzy. The best thing I ever made. Happy Birthday he-“

There was a thump and crash as Lizzy’s mother appeared in the kitchen doorway, knocking a picture frame to the floor, clutching an empty bottle.

“Whit the fuck’s aw’ this racket?” She slurred, eyes heavily bloodshot, clothes stained.

Maisie was instantly apologetic. “Sorry, Mrs. McTavish. We’ll try an’ keep it doon.”

Lizzy slowly stepped in front of her father to block him from view, but it was too late. Her mother’s expression darkened worse than winter rainclouds over the shipyards.

“Get oot ma hoose, ye bloody rocket.” She scowled, eyes swimming in and out of focus.

“Nae danger.” Her father replied coldly, apologetically rubbing Lizzy’s hand. “Sorry hen, I’ve been given my marching orders.”

“But ye just got here! It’s bin weeks-“ Lizzy faltered, unsure what to do, but her father slipped past her mother with barely a glance, lucky that he wasn’t clobbered over the head with the bottle.

Maisie pushed Lizzy forwards, whispering. “Go oan efter yer da. Me and Isla’ll tidy up and get ye under the brig later.”

Lizzy nodded gratefully and made to leave.

“The fuck ye think yer’ gaun?” Her mother demanded to know. “Ye cannae leave the kitchen in that state.”

“No’ now, mam.”

“Elizabeth. Yer goin’ naewhere. No’ after lettin’ him in the hoose. Dae ye think ahm simple?”

“Definitely no’. Da, wait-“ Lizzy tried to push past her mother to run after him, already out of the door into the street.

Her mother fumbled and somehow managed to grab her hair, making Lizzy yelp in shock. “If ye leave this hoose, yer no’ comin’ back.” She switched her grip to her daughter’s elbow, still somewhat impressively managing to keep hold of the empty bottle.

Maisie looked horrified. “Uh- Isla, can ye’ come oot here, please…” she called out, backing away against the sink.

“Ooyah bugger, mam-“ Lizzy became frantic, raising her voice, starting to struggle as her mother tightened her death grip on her arm.

“Mrs McTavish, it’s awrite, I’ll sort it oot- just let her-“ Lizzy’s friend tried to defuse the rapidly escalating situation but her pleas fell on deaf ears.

“Mam, mam, honestly, stop! Mam, you’re twisting my-“ Lizzy hissed loudly, now very afraid.

“Fer Christ’s sake, mam! Stop it, yer hurting her!” Isla came barrelling into the hallway, trying to dodge the bottle their mother violently swung at her as the rest of the house fell into dead silence.

Lizzy made a final attempt to wriggle free but her mother jerked her backwards with seemingly superhuman strength at the exact same moment. There was a gut-wrenching crack as Lizzy’s left shoulder popped out of its socket.

She looked down dumbfounded at the arm that she could no longer seem to control, dangling limp. Then came the pain.

The tiny flat erupted as her friends rallied to help her, more voices shouting, bawling at her incensed mother, begging her to let go. Her younger brothers wailed amongst the commotion, not understanding what was happening.

But the one person Lizzy really wanted to come back and make her mother stop, he didn’t even turn back to look as her screams of agony echoed around the dirty red brick buildings and the all-too-familiar blue flashing lights appeared around the street corner.

By the time the police van pulled up outside, her father was long gone.

***

Sure, I like to live dangerously.

“Thought you’d never ask.” Lizzy replied, sliding her legs out of the Jeep door, ready to hop down. “Here I was, thinking these dinosaurs were easy.”

The faint prickling on her skin was so familiar, the static before lightning strikes. The fear of something lying in wait in the long grass. The narrow choice of staying put or running, knowing that if you chose wrong, you might very well not see the next dawn.

Such had been life in Namibia. God, she really did miss it.

It was hard to get used to the danger being contained behind fences instead constantly watching your back, living and working alongside it. Lizzy had an inkling the other handlers didn’t feel the same way.

But now, down the slope she could see the gate to the tyrannosaur paddock was wide open. Though the enclosure was currently vacant, the sight gave her chills. She felt drawn towards it, her mind wandering off into the gloom beneath the canopy of jungle trees.

She found herself debating: Now, with a tyrannosaur, should I run or stay still?

Lost in thought, she started when Muldoon spoke sharply to her. “Forgetting something?”

She looked around, eyebrow quirked. “Am I?”

“We didn’t get the tranquillisers ready just to take them for a drive.” He tapped the metal doorframe of the Jeep to drive his point home. “Sharper. From now on. Remember.”

“And I need an office. Remember.” Lizzy wagged a finger.

“Hmmm. We’ll see.”

“So, this is for me? People will talk.” Lizzy said dryly as she shouldered one of the tranquilliser guns.

“That one’s for Harding. Take it and a few canisters down the hill to his Jeep, then go and wait with the other handlers.”

“What are we supposed to do?”

“Watch and learn for now. Safety on, yes?”

“Yes. Got it.” Lizzy checked and slammed the Jeep door, starting to walk down the hill, picking her way over tree roots.

“And Armstrong?”

“Yeah?” She turned back, chewing her lip again.

“Don’t tell Baker about this behavioural business. Or anyone. Not yet.”

But I tell Kathy everything. Even if her friend might be put out at Lizzy’s chance to get ahead.

I’ll tell her as soon as I can, it’s only been two weeks. She’ll understand. Maybe I’ll need a research assistant…

“Office.” She said again to cover for her lack of agreement, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She would figure out how to avoid blabbing to Kathy later. “Or at least a desk in yours.”

“Christ, people really will talk then. Card table, out in the hall.”

“Alright, alright, we can share a desk. All you had to do was say so.”

“Even worse. Bamileke table in the cleaning cupboard.”

“Colonel Mustard in the ballroom with the candlestick.”

“Damn woman.” He grumbled with finality.

“There it is.” Lizzy was trying not to laugh. As far as she was concerned, she’d won. “Look, just make sure I have a constant supply of coffee and I’ll sit wherever you like. Deal?”

“Sounds like fun.” The Southern drawl came from over Lizzy’s shoulder. “How do I get in on that?”

She shuddered and turned around. Tom had an infuriating smirk on his face, just daring her to say something provocative in return. She gave him a saccharine smile. “Ah, so nice to see you. Whose arse have you just crawled out of?”

“Never mind me. Where’ve you been?” Tom glanced at Muldoon then back to Lizzy, looking her up and down. He leaned in close, squinting at her face and then tapped the side of his mouth. “You’ve got something, there…”

Lizzy didn’t take the bait, just shot him a look of pure venom and kept a tight grip on the tranquiliser gun.

Tom nodded downwards at her occupied hands. “Know how to handle one of those?”

“Better than you do, I’ll bet.”

“Just to be clear Liz, I’m talking about the gun.”

“So was I.” She ground out each word deliberately.

“C’mon, give it to me. It’s way too heavy for you. You’re so short.”

Lizzy shook her head firmly, scowling at him. “Back off. This is for Gerry.”

The tranquilliser was still empty but she was taking no chances. Anyone with any sense knew to always treat a gun like it’s loaded. Then again, Tom was from Texas.

“Kennedy, pack it in. You can patronise her after the tyrannosaur’s in the paddock, not before.” Muldoon cut them both off, not a moment too soon.

Tom looked very put out, but just shrugged and turned his back. Desperate to have the final word, Lizzy muttered under her breath, not caring if he heard. “Your family tree is a goddamn wreath.”

Muldoon gave her a look that quite plainly said enough and she was forced to hold her tongue. Lizzy took herself off down the hill, marching towards Harding’s Jeep before she did something she regretted.

“Merry Christmas.” She presented the gun to the veterinarian.

“And a Happy New Year. Not every day a pretty girl brings me a weapon with a smile on her face.”

Lizzy had discovered that Gerry was totally harmless, but a recent divorcee and an outrageous flirt.

“Better not get any ideas about making me Sarah’s mother-in-law.” Lizzy stopped to chortle. “But that would really piss her off, so how ‘bout it? I’m sure Simon will understand.”

“Maybe once I’ve finished paying off the second Mrs Harding.”

“I’d like a spring wedding.”

“Sure, sure. You stick around, I might need some help in a while.”

Kathy and Isaac came strolling over to join Lizzy. “She made it!” Kathy slyly observed. “I was this close to calling Ray to go wake you up.”

“A lot happened this afternoon, actually.” Lizzy defended.

“Oh yeah, like what?”

Lizzy fumbled in her shorts pocket and held out Kathy’s new nametag while pointing at her own.

“Shit! Now way! How did you get these?” Kathy had ripped the old one off quick as a flash.

“Told you, a lot happened.” Nearly outed herself, but thought better of it.

Kathy took her arm and turned her to one side for as much privacy as they could manage. “Did you get in trouble? I was late this morning!”

“I definitely got a talking-to.” Lizzy glanced back at Muldoon. “And my head hurts something chronic. I think I’ve had too much coffee.”

Don’t say anything. Not yet.

Shit, I hope she doesn’t find out before then.

Kathy groaned. “At least it was your day off! I really hope I haven’t blown my chances at that promotion.”

“You’ll be fine. It happens. Nobody died.” Lizzy reassured her.

“You wouldn’t think so, the way Mike keeps staring at me, like I’m-“ Kathy spoke low. “-trash.”

A distant rumbling reached them in the forest clearing. Everyone simultaneously ceased talking and cocked their heads. A very large, heavy vehicle, moving slowly closer. Headlights through the trees, the crunch of rocks on the gravel road above.

Eventually, a trailer carrying the prone body of a rather enormous creature lying on its side reversed carefully down the hill.

Every single one of the handlers gasped in awe as the ambiguous outline of the dinosaur came into focus.

“Christ, she’s big. She’s huge. Those teeth.” Lizzy breathed. Much bigger than she was expecting. Had to be approaching fully-grown. “Oh Lord, that smell.”

Having arrived trussed up like a joint of meat from the butcher, once the trailer was backed inside the paddock gate and halted, a veritable army of workmen swarmed the tyrannosaur. The network of straps and iron bars were untangled and the animal was lowered to the ground by crane on a sling large enough to entirely cover Hammond’s bungalow like a Big Top.

Harding moved in to do his necessary health checks, the rest of the staff crowding around the gate to get a better look at the dinosaur, but nobody daring to get closer.

All except for one.

Her hands twitching, desperate to know what dinosaur skin felt like, Lizzy turned to Muldoon. Now or never. “Can I touch her?”

“Any reason in particular?”

Lizzy nodded earnestly. “I’ve just got to. When will I get the chance again?”

Muldoon had a feeling she’d sneak her way over there anyway. At least she’d asked first.

“Don’t see why not. Just don’t go getting attached to the damn thing.”

“As if.” Lizzy scoffed.

“Can I go too?” Kathy asked shyly.

“No.”

“Aweso- hey, what the Hell?”

“I’m pulling your leg, Baker. Go ahead.”

Lizzy smiled to herself as she walked ahead. The conversation continued behind her.

“How about you Harris, are you feeling brave today?”

“I’m fine, thanks. Kathy’s the carnivore girl around here anyway-“

Good lad, Isaac.

Lizzy wrinkled her nose as they got closer. “Phew, she really does reek.”

Kathy shrugged. “She might take first prize for the worst thing I’ve ever smelled. And I’ve been ankle deep in jaguar shit. Luckily I always keep Vaporub on me for such occasions.” The younger woman patted the cargo pocket on her shorts.

Lizzy’s hand was outstretched before she was even aware of it, and came to rest on the warm, dry scales of the tyrannosaur’s shoulder. Not cold like she imagined, given the time of day. Different somehow from the snakes and crocodiles she’d held. Interesting.

Harding appeared from the far side of the animal, stethoscope around his neck, halfway through his medical assessment.

“Sorry, let us know if we’re in the way.” Lizzy apologised.

“You’re both just fine there. In fact-“ He held a small torch out to her. “Check her pupillary response for me, would you? I’ll be waking her up from nap time shortly.”

It took everything Lizzy had not to turn and bolt. She managed to play it cool. “Oh sure, send me down to the end with the teeth. Is my street cred with your daughter at stake by any chance?”

“Very much so.” Harding winked at her. “And it’ll look really good if either of you would be, ah…looking for a promotion, perhaps?”

The two women hesitated, looking at each other expectantly. You go first. No, you go first, I insist.

Muldoon said getting closer was fine, he didn’t say anything about messing around with an eyeball.

Harding smiled reassuringly. “She’s snoring, very deep under. It’s perfectly safe. And believe me when I say you’re being watched, should anything happen.”

Sure enough, the tyrannosaur was inhaling loudly and exhaling with big puffs and snorts. Positively thunderous in comparison to anything, human or otherwise, they’d ever heard before.

“Alrighty then.” Lizzy made up her mind, nodded and grabbed the torch from him. “Give me a hand, K.”

Kathy, who had been staring at the veterinarian with her mouth hanging open, hurried to join her at the business end of the tyrannosaur. “My God. My God. This is so cool.”

“Does it ever get old? Being this close?” Lizzy’s work in the bush had been to simply observe, not to interfere. She tended to do everything she could to avoid close encounters. A rhino or leopard would let you know very quickly that they weren’t at all happy to see you.

“No.” Kathy, who had been up close and personal with big cats for most of her career, shook her head. She had monitored the breathing of powerful, deadly animals while they underwent procedures on the operating table, marvelling at their massive paws which engulfed her small hands, claws as long as her own fingers that could knock her flat in one swipe. “It never gets old.”

Meanwhile, back at the paddock gate, there was a heated debate about who would be munched first. Tom had just placed a rather hefty bet against Lizzy.

“Quiet.” Muldoon cut him off. It looked like Harding had just given the women instructions, what the Hell was he playing at?

He watched Armstrong march without hesitation up to the tyrannosaur’s eye and use both hands to pry the heavy lid open, torch held between her teeth.

Baker was right behind her, totally focused on the dinosaur despite the activity around the gate. She had a firm grip on Armstrong’s belt ready to pull her back out of harm’s way should anything go wrong.

“All good, Liz?”

“She’s fine, Gerry!” Armstrong yelled back from around the torch.

Brilliant.

Really need the pair of them on Carnivores. Look at that.

He already knew that for all of their hard work, unfortunately neither of them would be a Team Leader. They never had a chance. According to Richardson, Baker lacked authority while Armstrong was a loose cannon.

Which was probably code for ‘I don’t know how to handle either of them’.

Muldoon kept his hand hovering over the safety of the tranquilliser gun, ignoring Kennedy and his remarks, just in case.

He still had no doubt that Blacklaw wouldn’t hesitate to hunt him down with a machete if anything happened to Armstrong on his watch.

She’s alright. They, they’re alright. They’re fine, they know what they’re doing. Can hear the damn thing snoring from back here. I’ve got them covered.

Richardson whistled and muttered under his breath. “Never thought I’d admit I was envious of a torch. Using both hands at the same time too, maybe she has got some talent after all.”

Tom sniggered.

“Probably not wise to say that when I’m armed.” Muldoon didn’t quite manage to keep the disapproving edge out of his voice.

“Goodness me, bit extreme. You wouldn’t happen to be feeling territorial over that one, would you?”

“No more than usual.”

Richardson looked sceptical. “Bit young for you, and she wants to be on Herbivores. Not to mention the fiancé situation. Shame.”

“Nothing to do with that.”

“Of course, of course. You’re obligated, although that’s not fooling me. Who let them get so close to the damn animal anyway?”

“I did.”

“Then it’s on you if Elizabeth gets injured. Serve her right, that girl could do with being brought down a peg or three. The black one too. Mistake bringing the pair of them out tonight, they didn’t need to be here.”

The black one. Jesus Christ. It was worse than he thought.

They were standing off to the side. Nobody was looking. Richardson was just asking for a broken nose, talking about Baker like that.

She really reminded him of his daughter, back in Kenya. Same contagious smile with perfect teeth, same mannerisms. If his daughter grew up to be half as put-together and pleasant as Baker was, he’d be happy.

But equally he knew what he’d do if anyone spoke about her that way. They’d be in better shape if they got pummelled into the earth by a buffalo.

“If the men are here, they should be here too. And the women have been far more useful.” He looked pointedly at Kennedy, standing with his hands in his pockets, scuffing his boots back and forward through the dirt.

“If you mean useful as in nice to look at? Though between you and me, I’d like to stick something other than a torch in Elizabeth’s mouth.” Richardson guffawed loudly. “That should shut her up.”

Christ, he definitely didn’t want to think about that at a time like this. Muldoon knew what he was doing, of course, trying to rattle him.

And damn him, it was working.

He tightened his hands on the stock of the tranquilliser to keep them from shaking. God, he needed a drink…

Richardson was still going. “And Elizabeth helped you bring the tranqs down here? On her day off?”

“She wasn’t doing anything else.”

He shook his head. “Careful. You don’t want to be accused of having favourites.”

Meanwhile Kennedy’s practically the son you never had. Muldoon liked Armstrong, but he couldn’t pretend they were already closer than was professional. She was too comfortable. Maybe keep more distance between them in future.

Lizzy had just finished carefully replacing the dinosaur’s eyelid. The tyrannosaur snorted sharply, a blast of pungent steam from her nostrils, causing both women to jump, then laugh and point at the other’s reaction.

“Christ, almost got me!” Lizzy put a hand over her heart. “You know CPR, right?”

“Holy cow.” Kathy choked. “Good thing she didn’t do that when you were elbow deep in her eyeball.”

“There would have been a me-shaped cloud of dust beside you. Gone.”

“Batter-batter-swing, batter. Home run from Armstrong.” Kathy elbowed her gently in the ribs, eyes growing wide as Harding happily brandished a needle with a gauge so large that even an elephant might object to it. “Er, let’s get clear. I don’t like the thought of being stuck by that thing.”

***

All that remained was to wait on the all-clear from the control room that the tyrannosaur was up and about before they retired for the night. Harding was the only person left inside the paddock. Mist was falling heavy, as the clouds rolled in from the sea.

Lizzy wasn’t watching the gate anymore. She was watching Muldoon, a tad uneasily.

He seemed distinctly unhappy, was it something she had done?

Hell, it was normal to be on edge while Gerry was still in there by himself with the dinosaur, but the normally impassive Muldoon was beyond that.

Is he alright? Doesn’t look alright.

Lizzy was standing too far away to sidle over and ask. She clicked her tongue to get his attention.

“You okay?” She mouthed, concern written all over her face.

Tell you later. He didn’t say it but she just knew what he was telling her. Lizzy ran her fingers through her hair and briefly did a thumbs up while her hand was behind her head.

“What the hell is that?” Kathy noticed.

“What was what?”

“That weird silent communication thing you just did with Muldoon. You had a whole conversation without even speaking!” Kathy laughed, only half-joking. “What happened today, girl?”

Don’t tell Baker.

“Like I said, a lot.” Lizzy chose to keep her secret, for now.

Richardson clapped his hands, really a very annoying habit he did whenever he made an announcement. “Right everyone! Let’s get this show on the road!”

Lizzy and Muldoon exchanged another look from opposite ends of the clearing. Each could tell the other was thinking exactly the same thing.

The recumbent tyrannosaur was now starting to grumble and stir, flexing her limbs as Harding slipped outside the paddock gate just before it shut with an electric hiss.

The show.

The whole damn park was one big show.

***

Thanks for reading! I found it upsetting writing the first part, but it’s important to know that Lizzy came from literally nothing, in one of the most poverty-stricken areas of Glasgow in the 1970s.

If any of the Scots dialect didn’t make sense hit me up, I’m Scottish and lived in Glasgow for a while so this is hoo ah tawk.

I also mean no offence to Texans. Lizzy has one or two prejudices of her own, and the first Texan she met didn’t exactly endear himself to her.

[cuddlepilefics]

Every step of the way

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Hyunjin

Caregivers: Stray Kids

TW: cancer (remember this blog is about fluff and comfort, we don’t do sad here....)

No one’s POV.:

It had been almost half a year since that fateful day, the day a doctor told Hyunjin he wasn’t as fine as he always thought. The dancer had pushed the thoughts as far away from himself as possible, maybe if he didn’t acknowledge it, it wouldn’t be true. His mom was the first one who learned about his diagnosis, urging her son to get treatment immediately. The doctor had advised to try chemotherapy first, prescribing a bunch of pills the dancer would have to take for three days in a row, wait for three months and repeat. Planned were four two six cycles, depending on how well the boy would respond to the treatment. Hyunjin’s day to day life now included frequent doctor visits, which he somehow managed to go to in secrecy. He had done two cycles so far and both had left him throwing up for days afterwards. Both times his friends had been there, comforting him and holding his hair out of the way as they tried to help the dancer get over his ‘stomach bug’ quickly. His hyungs prepared him light meals while the youngers cuddled him, not getting tired of the dancer’s movie requests as they watched the same few dramas over and over again with him. Little did they know.

Hyunjin knew he had lost weight, which was a miracle since he didn’t even weigh much to begin with. Dancing which was one of the things he used to enjoy most, suddenly didn’t sound as appealing anymore. His stamina was decreasing and he felt fatigued most of the time, dancing just seemed way too tiresome to be fun. Minho and Felix were the first two to notice their friend not being himself. The dance-line often practiced alone and Hyunjin’s lack of drive soon showed. His dance was lacking the usual energy and he called for water-breaks more frequently. Their concerns were often brushed of with simple statements like ‘I should have gone to bed earlier last night’ or ‘I’ve already practiced earlier’. Changbin had gotten concerned when they were fooling around backstage and he had picked the younger up, noticing how shockingly easy it was. Was the dancer on a diet? He certainly didn’t need to.  

With the next cycle of his therapy approaching, Hyunjin knew he needed to talk to his members. Their schedule was packed and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up. The dancer had dreaded the conversation with his group, having to tell them he wasn’t ok and that he needed a break. He didn’t even know how to do it, the thought of calling a group-meeting making his heart beat loudly and his hands shake. Pulling out his phone, he quickly typed a short message and asked if they could all talk after dinner. That way he wouldn’t be able to chicken out again. It was only a few hours till the other members would come back from their individual practices. Hyunjin had settled for memorizing his lyrics and practicing his rap in the safety and comfort of their dorm. Rubbing at his face and patting his cheeks a few times, he tried to get himself to focus on the lyric sheets in his lap, the letters and words muddling together and losing their meaning as his thoughts were everywhere but on the task on hand.

The time passed a lot faster than expected, and soon there was a knock on the door before Seungmin poked his head in to tell Hyunjin dinner was ready. The dancer sighed, putting his lyric sheets away. He had been less productive than he had hoped he’d be. Sitting down between Seungmin and Changbin, he accepted the plate Chan handed him. The leader had meant well, piling up a generous amount of food. Hyunjin frowned, he didn’t feel too hungry to begin with and the anxious knot twisting in his stomach certainly didn’t help his appetite. Mainly pushing the food around with his chopsticks, the dancer rearranged the words in his head and tried to figure out how he’d start the conversation later. The members noticed him spacing out but left him be, knowing their friend would talk to them later. The majority of the group was already done eating when Hyunjin hadn’t even finished half of his meal. He simply helped clear the table when the others were done, dumping the rest of his food into the trash since he didn’t feel like eating anymore than he had already forced down. “You really didn’t want to eat any more?”, Chan frowned, he didn’t want his dongsaeng getting even skinnier than he already was. The younger shook his head and walked over to the living room couch, sitting down while he waited for the others to join him.

They were all gathered and Chan sensed the nervousness radiating off of his dongsaeng, so as the leader he decided to start: “You wanted to talk to us, Jinnie? Go ahead, you have our attention.” The dancer cleared his throat a few times, scrubbing his sweaty hands against his pants to dry them. “I-I have cancer”, he blurted out, his mind blank and the carefully prepared speech forgotten. There was no reply, just eerie silence. His friends had heard him but were unable to grasp the meaning behind his words. Minho was the first to shake off the shock, patting the younger’s shoulder: “Not too bad, you got me there for a second.” A tear rolled down Hyunjin’s cheek and he shook his head. “Damn, you weren’t joking”, Minho cursed, pulling his dongsaeng into a tight hug. He didn’t want to let go any time soon, so he didn’t. Chan bit his lip, he knew something was up but he didn’t expect this. “We kinda figure something was off about you, just… ohh well. How long has it been?”, he sighed, slowly letting the news sink in. Avoiding the leader’s gaze, the dancer admitted: “’bout half a year. Those last two times I got sick were actually the side effects of the treatment.” Minho let go of him and settled for sitting on the floor against Hyunjin’s legs, which cleared the space for Jisung to come over and cling to his youngest hyung. “I had to tell you now because I’ll have to take the medication again in a few days and it will obviously take me down again for a while like the last times”, he hummed quietly, shuddering at the thought. Chan knelt down next to Minho and squeezed Hyunjin’s hand, assuring: “It’s okay, I’ll talk to our managers. We’ll clear your schedule and you just focus on resting and riding it out, yeah?”, the younger nodded, sniffling quietly as the leader continued, “Should you ever need to go on a hiatus, talk to me, okay? I know our livestyle is stressful and doesn’t allow much time to rest, so if you need a break, we’ll get you one.”

After a long silence, Hyunjin admitted with tears in his eyes: “I’ll probably need to at some point. It’s getting so hard to keep up with you when dancing but what if Stay will think Stray Kids is as good or even better without me?” – “That is not going to happen! Stray Kids is not Stray Kids without you hyung. Stay would want you to take care of yourself, just like we want you to. Do you remember what you told me when my anxiety got really bad? You said ‘there’s no shame in taking a rest, you come first, your job comes second’. Same goes for you too, hyung”, Jisung reminded, “We just want you to be well.” – “It’s j-just, I really loved dancing and now I can barely do it anymore. What if I’m not as good as before when all of this is over”, the older mumbled, playing with his sleeve. Tapping the dancer’s knee from where he was sitting on the ground, Minho spoke up with a firm expression: “Look at me, Jinnie. I’m good at dancing, so I can judge. You have so much natural talent as a dancer, that’s nothing that just suddenly vanishes. Yeah, you might forget about some of the moves but we are all here to remind you again.” Felix nodded along promising: “We’re the dance-line, we work on our dancing together, always have and always will. How many nights have you stayed behind with me to help me get it right, don’t you think I’m willing to do the same for you?” – “Thank you, Lixxie”, he smiled, drying his eyes with his sleeve.

“You got this, Jinnie”, Changbin smiled, ruffling his dongsaeng’s hair. The younger cringed at the touch, pleading: “Please don’t do this, it’s falling out quick enough as it is”, twirling a long strand around his finger he whimpered, “I don’t want to lose it all, I’d be so ugly being bald.” – “Jinnie, look at Chan, for now he has less hair than you. Is he ugly?”, Changbin asked. “Of course, he is!”, Hyunjin joked, snorting and earning an irritated “Excuse me???” from the leader. Changbin just continued, ignoring his hyung: “We’ll simply make sure he’ll dye his hair again for the next comeback, so he’ll lose it faster”, he winked, “and if you feel self-conscious, wear a beanie. We always do. It won’t be so much different and you can also borrow some of mine if you get tired of your own collection. We all know I have an endless number of them, you will always find one that goes with your outfit.” The dancer nodded gratefully while Jisung removed himself from his side, dashing to his room. He was slightly out of breath when he jogged back to the living room, with a black beanie in his hands. Upon further inspection, the older could make out a pair of cat ears on top of it. “Here, I haven’t worn it in an eternity but I thought it would look really good on you”, the rapper announced with sparkling eyes, “Try it on!” Hyunjin complied earning a bush of squeals, while Jisung pinched his cheek exclaiming: “Cute!” The younger fixed it a bit, so it was facing straight, beaming at his hyung: “You should keep it, it looks so much better on you anyways.” – “Thanks, Sungie. But what if I don’t want to walk around the dorm wearing a beanie 24/7?”, the dancer worried. Frowning at his hyung’s insecurity, Jeongin spoke up: “Hyung, you don’t have to hide from us. You are so handsome, you know, there’s a reason you are called prince. What’s on your head won’t change that, plus we care about you, not your hair. To us it doesn’t matter what’s on your head, if you’d walk around with a chicken living up there, we wouldn’t care.” – “Well, I would be mildly concerned if there was a chicken on his head”, Felix’ deep voice cut in. Seungmin tapped his lips, thinking deeply before considering: “I mean, a raven or a snow owl would be fine but a chicken, come on Jeongin, Hyunjin has more style than that.” – “Guys, you don’t get the point”, the maknae whined. “I do, Innie”, Hyunjin chuckled at the heated discussion that broke out about the bird bread that would fit him best, “Thank you.”

It took a few minutes for Chan to calm the maknae-line down, without agreeing on a certain bread. “How long is it till your next treatment?”, the leader asked. Counting in his head, the younger replied: “Four more days or considering today is mostly over, three days.” – “Well, how about we go for sushi during lunch tomorrow? My treat. It’s you favorite, so you can enjoy some delicious food while you can still stomach it”, the oldest offered. An excited smile spread on Hyunjin’s face and he nodded, as it had been a while since he had sushi. “Good, you need to eat well to give your body the energy it needs. You’ve been losing too much weight lately”, Minho approved, nudging his dongsaeng’s knee. Wordlessly walking over, Jeongin dropped himself on Hyunjin’s lap before announcing: “Well, now that that’s settled, as the maknae I call dips on cuddles.” – “Yah! I do not agree with this line of argument!”, Felix yelled frustrated. Soon the entire group was piled up together cuddling their sick dancer. “Thank you, guys. I wouldn’t know what to do without you”, he sniffled getting emotional from all the affection he was receiving. Chan just squeezed him a bit tighter and whispered: “You don’t have to think about that because you will always have us by your side.” – “Promise?” – “Promise! Every step of the way.”