#reading like house of leaves or something

[lymtw]

Birthday Shenanigans

What business do you have outside of bed—outside of Toji's arms—so early in the morning, on your day off? It never feels right to wake up without you by his side, but today, it feels worse to wake up alone. He's been sleeping on his side of the bed for hours, staying warm, yet, at the discovery of you missing beside him, he almost gets whiplash with how quickly it feels like he's been tossed onto a bed made of snow. He's freezing, and you're to blame. There's a heaviness in his chest that only worsens as he drags his hand back and forth over your side of the bed. None of your warmth remains, meaning you've been gone for a bit. You couldn't have woken him up? Today is supposed to be about him, yet, all he wants to do is spend the whole day with you.

Once Toji fully wakes up, he sits up and prepares to go to the kitchen to fix himself some breakfast. A sticky note that is stuck to your pillow grabs his attention. He peels it off your pillow and takes in the simplistic drawing consisting of two stick figures resembling you and Toji, lying in bed, kissing. This already brings a little smile to his face, but when he reads the caption written in your handwriting-- (Since we didn't get to share our morning kiss, please enjoy this renaissance painting I made of what I think that would've looked like <3) --he lets out a small chuckle and folds the sticky note, before putting it away in the first drawer of his nightstand. He puts on a shirt and some sweatpants and leaves the room, not even bothering to make the bed.

As he's walking past the front door, it aggressively swings open and scares the hell out of him. You're there with your hands and arms riddled with bags. Grocery bags filled to the brim, a few bags from some clothing stores, and one smaller bag from a fragrance store. You have a small box in your hands with the logo of the bakery that is a few streets away from the house.

"Oh, hi, baby! Happy birthday," you say, standing on your tippy toes, which Toji understands as the signal for him to lean down a little. You place a quick peck on Toji's scar, and before he can get a word in, you run off to the kitchen, not even closing the door behind you. Toji shakes his head with a grin and shuts the door, before going after you. He silently watches you scramble to put the bags down in an organized manner. You set the small box from the bakery and the groceries down on the kitchen counter, while the other bags are temporarily set down on the ground.

"Hmm... Oh!" You grab the small box and the pack of small striped candles and take it with you to the counter by the sink. You carelessly rip open the pack of candles and open the box, smiling when you see the single, chocolate flavored cupcake, decorated with a blue flower made of frosting. All is going well, until you can't find the lighter that is usually in the drawer you store the dishrags in. You lift all of the small stacks of towels and can't find it anywhere.

"Where could it be?" You mumble to yourself.

"What's up, ma?" Toji asks, curiosity getting the better of him when he sees you continue to rifle around the drawer, clearly in search of something.

You sigh, defeatedly, and shut the drawer. "Turn around, please."

Toji does as you say and turns around, not wanting to stress you out. He has a feeling this is something for him, too, so he wouldn't want to ruin whatever it is you have planned.

You put the cupcake on a plate and grab one of the blue and white striped candles, taking it with you to the counter by the stove. You turn on the stove and put the candle wick to the flame, watching it quickly light up, before turning the stove off, again. You put the candle on the cupcake and slowly make your way over to Toji, who is leaning on the opposite side of the counter, facing away from you like you asked him to.

"Baby," you call, smiling when his attention goes to you before it goes to the flame you are indirectly holding. He smiles softly at the small pastry you present to him. "The lady at the bakery tried to sell me a cupcake with a red rose and I told her, 'no, he likes blue'. Then she still tried to sell me one with a sunflower on it and I said, 'no, it has to be blue'. So, look, I got you a cupcake with a blue flower, baby. Their specialty is definitely flowers, because I promise you, that green cupcake did not look like a Stegosaurus." Toji chuckles at the rambled, silly recap of your experience at the bakery. "Now, make a wish, before the wax melts and gets all over it," you say, holding up the plate for him.

Toji's gaze remains set on you as he mentally makes his wish. He looks at you for a long time, long enough for the blue and white wax to start dripping down onto the cupcake. A few of those seconds were spent just thinking, because what is there to wish for when he has everything he needs? A home, a job that pays the bills and puts food on the table, something to get around in, and best of all, an unlimited source of love and support.

Then, he knows it.

He considers who you are to him. You lit up his life, again, and he can't wait to spend all the years to come, with you. Because of his big, beefy, tough guy appearance, he knows it would give you a good laugh if he ever told you that being around you makes fluttering little butterflies flood his stomach. He'll say it out loud to you someday, just to hear you laugh. Frankly, you deserve it, because before you, he could count on his hands the amount of times he had laughed so hard and for so long that his stomach felt sore. Being around you has turned it into almost a daily occurrence, and all he can wish for is years, decades, and the appearance of grey hairs and wrinkles with you.

You laugh. You laugh at how he ignored your warning about the candle wax, you laugh at the utterly soft look on his face. You feel giddy as you watch those green eyes of his, tracing your face and taking in every feature on it. Like anybody who can't read minds, you wonder what he wished for, even when you know it's something that is never meant to be said out loud.

Before you can even process it, the candle is blown out and the plate is being taken out of your hands and placed on the counter. Toji wraps his arms around you and pulls you in close enough to rest his forehead against yours. He knocks his nose against yours a couple times, a gesture that lures an unfaltering grin onto his face at the sound of your giggles.

"You're the best, doll. You didn't have to--"

You shut him up, instantly, with a kiss. It's soft and warm and delicate. It's everything that he loves about you, wrapped up in the sweetest touch.

"Yes, I did. Don't even, my love," you assure, smiling as you rub his chest. "I'm so lucky to get to celebrate you, baby. I love you, and i'm happy you're here. Those two reasons are enough on their own for me to willingly wake up at five in the morning and run around store to store like a headless chicken, so I could get home before you woke up. Clearly, you had different plans," you say, reciprocating his smile. Your hand raises to cup his cheek and your thumb strokes his soft skin, tenderly. "All of this is from me to you. Please, let me show you how much you mean to me."

It didn't take much convincing. Toji was on board the moment you killed his denial of these extra things being necessary to celebrate another day of living, another year of getting older. Your trying little kisses don't hurt, though. If this is your way of begging to show him extra love—by showing him extra love—then who is he to reject your affection?

"Please, pretty please, please, pleaseeeee, please-"

"Shh, baby." His index finger goes over your lips. He smiles at how obedient you are—birthday treatment. Normally, whenever he does that, you try to bite his finger in a playful manner. "I woke up alone in bed this morning. That kinda sucked."

"I'm sorry," you say, against his finger.

"I liked your renaissance painting," he says, a smirk forming on his lips when he feels a breath of a laugh from you on his skin. "Couldn't help but feel a little jealous that a few scribbles got more lip locking action, first thing in the morning, than I did." He sighs, almost like he's wounded by the remembrance of reaching for you and being met with an empty space. "How ever will you make it up to me?" His finger slides down your lips, causing the bottom one to bounce back after he pulled it down.

"I'll give you all the kisses and a bonus kiss." You nod, proudly, at your offer.

"Mhm, that's pretty good so far. What else?"

"What else do you want? I'm up for anything today."

You don't miss the movement of his hands on your waist, subtly maneuvering so that his fingers lift your shirt the slightest bit, allowing him to graze your bare skin. The glimmer of mischief that almost immediately appears in his eyes and the unfaltering smirk on his face, make it so that it's not necessary for him to word what he will eventually want to do with you. Your face goes warm at the thought, but you just laugh it off.

"Do you know what time it is, right now?" Toji asks, more to chide you for being out of bed so early, than for the purpose of knowing the time.

"Almost eight, no?" You take your phone out of your pocket and check. "Seven thirty," you confirm, showing him your screen.

"It's seven thirty in the morning, ma. What are we doing awake at seven thirty in the morning, on our day off?"

"I was on a mission, I don't know about you."

He scoffs. "Oh, kill that. You do know about me."

Simple. Toji doesn't like sleeping without you. He likes knowing you're getting your rest next to him and he loves the ongoing, intimate, physical contact. Even if he's not full on spooning you, he's always touching you. Whether it's his face buried in your chest, his legs tangled with yours, his elbow digging into your back or even his head pressed into your shoulder, he's always touching you.

"Let's go back to bed," he says, placing a peck on your forehead, before resting his chin on top of your head. "Just for a little longer."

"You don't want breakfast?"

He shakes his head, in response. "I want you to sleep with me."

"I can make something quick," you insist.

"Do I have to throw you over my shoulder and drag you away?"

"No, sir," you say, with mock seriousness. "I'm going." You wiggle out of his hold and barely manage to take two steps, before you feel his hand swat at your ass. You gasp, dramatically, and turn around to look at him, your widened eyes being the most prominent feature of your surprised expression.

Toji snickers, unable to stay serious when you look at him like he did something life altering to you. "Run. If I catch you, we're staying in bed all day."

Nothing else needed to be said for you to start sprinting towards the room. You've been awake since five in the morning to ensure that these celebratory plans are followed through with, properly. You can't stay in bed all day, so it's a good thing Toji didn't chase you to the room.

Once Toji slides into bed and finds your body under the covers, he completely encompasses you in his hold. His front is flush against your back, his arm strewn across your waist, and his face is pressed to the nape of your neck. He's made himself comfortable, having gone as far as to slightly overlap your leg with his. It doesn't take very long for Toji to fall asleep this way. You're his own personal cuddle bug and the reason he sleeps like a hibernating bear every night, down to the brief snoring he makes you endure before he wakes himself up with the loudness.

You wake up a few hours later, pulling Toji out of sleep as well, because of all your movement. You smile when he grunts and buries his face in your chest, in an attempt to go back to sleep.

"Was that not enough time?" You ask, running your fingers through his hair.

"Mm-mm," he hums, quietly. He's starting to move around more, mostly pawing at you to keep you close, so you don't leave him.

"We have to get up soon. We slept through the rest of the morning," you say, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. The tenderness of the gesture just makes him want to stay in bed with you for longer.

"Mm," he hums, once again, the sound coming off as dismissive.

"Sounds like you don't want your morning-turned-afternoon kisses, before we get up. You would rather stay asleep, huh?"

Now, that grabs his attention.

He moves away from your chest and just stares at you with his sleep ridden eyes and a pout that you know he would deny is a pout if you mentioned it.

"Oh, you're awake. I knew it," you say, with a teasing grin. You know he's ready when his eyes keep flitting between your eyes and your lips, silently signaling to you what he wants. "Alright, alright. Don't yell at me," you jest. You lean in and press a quick peck on his lips, then another, and another, until it's quick bursts of kisses that make him want to laugh. "Come on. Keep up. You know I try my hardest when you do this to me."

As if he's insulted by your taunting, he rolls on top of you and traps you beneath him, returning all your kisses while you're distracted, laughing at the sudden crushing weight of his body on yours.

"Keep up," Toji throws at you, this time, in his slightly raspy voice. "Come on, kiss me back. Keep up," he repeats, not even giving you a chance to respond before he's back to smothering you, again. He laughs when you end up surrendering, welcoming defeat by just lying there in a giggle fit. "It's like... a million to nothing, ma."

A few more giggles flow past your lips, your smile lingering once you somewhat collect yourself. "Best million to nothing ever. I'll get you, tomorrow." You don't promise or swear it, because just by looking at his face, now, you think you just might lose, again. You have a very strong feeling about it.

Toji simply gives you a low "mhm" and smirks, confidently, because he knows that you will be in this position, again, tomorrow morning.

"Well... now that you're awake, we can finally leave the bed." Toji's reaction to that is the most dramatic groan ever, but when you tell him that he can stay in bed while you "do stuff" in the kitchen, he refuses and follows you. It's great, but he almost makes you burn the food a couple times.

"Toji- Baby." You laugh, when he clings to your back and buries his face in your neck. "Go sit down and eat your cupcake."

"Mm-mm. Saving room for you," he mumbles.

"You're so..." You can't even finish the sentence, the shaking of your head and the curl of your lips doing wonders to reveal your flustered state.

"Romantic?" He asks, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, as if to give you more proof. He smirks against your skin when you freeze, like you're lost in thought. "Keep stirring, mama," he says, grinning when you snap out of your very brief daze and stir quickly to make up for your lack of focus.

"You're gonna make me burn your food," you chide. You reach behind you with your free hand and try to push him back, but he doesn't budge.

"Nah, nah. I'm looking out for you," he corrects.

You turn off the stove and turn to him. "Listen. You're a very handsome distraction, but you're going to make me burn the entire kitchen down if you keep doing what you're doing."

"Which is?" He questions, standing right in front of you. He loves how easy it is for him to have you cheesing.

"Being romantic. You know what you're doing! Stop being cute," you say, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from giggling and egging him on.

"Just say you need my help, pretty," he says, his voice and the placement of his hands on your hips, indicating that there's a double meaning to the sentence. For now, you choose to ignore the one that doesn't involve cooking.

"Okay, then. Help me wash, peel, and cut the potatoes, please."

It's hard not to laugh at his reaction—the quiet 'tsk' sound and the subtle twitch of his lips. He looks like he was expecting you to stop cooking, to take a brief intermission with him. The disillusioned look on his face is quickly traded for an expression that says 'i'll get you'. It's a smirk and something feral hidden in those dark eyes.

"Sure thing," he replies, squeezing your hips a couple times between his enormous hands.

You would think having help in the kitchen would expedite the process of getting things done, but it was the opposite when it came to Toji helping you out. If he's not distracting you, he's distracted by you.

Instead of finishing the task you gave him, he turns around and watches you cut vegetables like it's one of the most interesting things he's ever seen.

"Damn, ma. Look at you go," he says, watching the smooth, back and forth motion of the knife you are using and listening to the consistent, rhythmic sound of the blade on the cutting board. He's mesmerized—you make it look like art.

You put the knife down, unable to contain your laugh when he keeps watching you. "Almost done, Toji?" You ask, turning to look at him.

"Yeah, yeah," he responds, before turning around, again.

Somehow, after all the pauses and distractions, and the swatting at Toji's hands when he would pick at the food, claiming multiple times that he was doing a taste test, the food was finally finished.

"The house smells fucking amazing, doll. We did that," Toji says, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you as you finish washing the cutting board.

"We did," you agree, grinning at how proud he is of the results of your conjoined efforts. "How does it taste?" You ask, washing the dish soap off the cutting board.

"Perfect," he murmurs, in your ear. "Not as good as-"

"Don't say it. Don't say it." You turn off the water and turn to look at the menacing smirk on his face.

"-you," he finishes, without hesitation, and almost instantly, you smack his chest, earning a chuckle from him. "What? You don't wanna be my dessert?"

"Oh my god, Toji," you groan, walking away from him to grab some plates.

The cupcake you got him did not go to waste. You both had one of those 'I need something sweet' moments, once you finished eating. After a couple more eye rolls from you towards his suggestive remarks, Toji being the kind soul he is, shared the dessert. He took one enormous bite of it—bits of candle wax and all—and then gave you the rest. It definitely hit the spot, and watching Toji get frustrated every time he asked if his lips and teeth were still blue, has become one of the many core memories you have with him.

"Gifts?" You ask, drying your hands after washing your plate and putting it away.

Toji sighs. "What did you do, ma?"

You smile at him, mischievously, and beckon him to come with you. You pick up all the bags you left on the floor and lead him to the couch, where you set them down. The second he sees how many bags there are, he shakes his head, and you know what he's thinking—'you didn't have to'. It's written all over his face, so in an attempt to steer away those thoughts, you rub his chest, like you did before, and smile.

"Open them."

For someone who was iffy about receiving gifts, he sure went through the opening process quickly. After pulling out the paper tissue you awkwardly fluffed and placed in each bag to hide what was in it, he scanned what was at the bottom of each bag before pulling the items out as well. Shirts, pants, gym shorts and sweatpants, a new coffee mug—he inspects all of the items, closely, with a soft smile on his face.

"Everything else is in black, why the navy blue jacket?"

"You look hot in navy blue."

Case closed.

"Oh shit. What is this, doll?" Toji asks, picking up the smaller, gift bag with the crispy, bold font on it. This gift in particular caught his eye, because it's something he knows for sure both of you like. You watch with a beaming smile as he pulls out the blue box, a low chuckle leaving him when he reads the name of the elegant cologne. "Remember that time you said just sniffing this would get you pregnant?" He asks, as he rips the plastic covering off the box and opens it, bringing out the even more elegant looking bottle.

"Yeah, you have to stay away from me if you're gonna wear that. From here to the kitchen, that's the distance you have to-"

The fragrance lands like mist on your face. It immediately overpowers the smell of the food you and Toji made, and fills your nostrils with the manliest, sexiest, most perilous scent you have ever smelled. It has your heart racing. It's Toji. You smell it and all your thoughts lock in on him. Toji, Toji, Toji, like a siren blaring in your head.

"How you doing, mama?" Toji asks, grinning fiendishly at your stunned reaction. "Smells real nice, huh?"

You stop buffering and take in the teasing smirk on his face. This would be the second time, today, that you look at him like he did something life changing to you.

"We should go to the beach," you suggest. You're calm and collected on the outside, frenzied and bouncing off the walls on the inside. A trip to the beach sounds good.

"That's random. Why do you wanna go to the beach?" He asks, putting the cologne back in its box.

"Let's catch a sunset and get you out of the house for a while," you elaborate. "Do you really want to spend the whole day in here?"

"I do wanna spend the whole day here," Toji responds, stepping towards you. "Just me and you, relaxing in bed together. Doesn't that sound way better than the beach?" He asks.

You can't even pretend like he's wrong when he looks at you like that. Like going outside after getting so comfortable and reveling in the warm atmosphere created in your home, would be worse than when he woke up alone in the morning.

"Let's stay here and keep each other warm," he says, pulling you into him. His arms act like vines around your waist, tightening to keep you close.

"Sure," you respond, a soft smile on your face as you look into his eyes. "We can stay inside."

When Toji leaned in to peck your lips, he really considered turning it into another competition to see who could get more kisses in. He was going for another win, aiming to overpower you with speed and quantity, to end it the way he always does—smothering your entire face with kisses, while you laugh through your sweet defeat—but when he felt your fingers drag over his back, right before you balled up his shirt in your hands, he decided to mind your gentleness and reciprocate it. He even smiled into a few of the kisses, to settle down the urge he felt to laugh, because he could smell his cologne on your face.

Toji took your hand and dragged you with him to the bedroom, once he broke the kiss. There, you spent your time cuddling, kissing, talking, and making love, each act done separately, but just as easily melted together into one act. You even got to see your sunset through the bedroom window, with your cheek and your hands pressed to the glass that kept fogging up.

By the end of the day, you were both spent, but still remained inseparable—not even a shower called for being apart. When it was time to go to sleep, you kept your face buried in Toji's neck. You pressed so many gentle kisses to his skin, while mumbling quiet, sleepy 'I love you's, that he hummed in response to, when he was't tiredly saying it back.

[amirasainz]

What about biker Oscar, who takes his girlfriend for a ride and she is like his adorable backpack and he loves riding his bike with her. Thx 😊

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🧡

Ride or Die

The rumble of Oscar's bike echoed through the quiet suburban street as he rolled into the driveway. The sleek black motorcycle gleamed under the evening light, its chrome parts catching the golden hues of the setting sun. He parked, pulling off his helmet, running a hand through his slightly messy hair. Oscar loved his bike. The freedom it gave him, the power it commanded—it was all exhilarating. But tonight, something was different. Tonight, it wasn’t just about the ride.

Tonight, Yn would finally ride with him.

As he walked into the house, he found Yn pacing the living room. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her oversized hoodie, her brows furrowed in thought.

“Hey, babe,” Oscar greeted, a soft grin tugging at his lips. “You ready?”

Yn froze, spinning on her heel to face him. “Uh… yeah. I think.”

Oscar chuckled, setting his helmet on the counter. “You think?” He stepped closer, resting his hands on her shoulders. “You don’t have to be nervous, you know. I’ve got you.”

“I know,” Yn said, biting her lip. “It’s just… you drive so fast, Oscar. And what if I fall off? Or what if—”

“Whoa, whoa,” he interrupted, tilting her chin up so their eyes met. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Then trust that I’d never let anything happen to you,” he said, his voice steady and full of conviction. “You’ve been my girl for three years, Yn. I wouldn’t risk a scratch on you.”

Her cheeks warmed at his words, and she nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Oscar’s grin widened. “That’s my girl.”

---

They stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against Yn’s skin. Oscar handed her a sleek black helmet.

“It’s a little big, but it’ll do for now,” he said, helping her adjust the straps.

She looked at the bike, her stomach twisting with both excitement and apprehension. “So… where do I sit?”

Oscar laughed. “Right behind me. You’ll be my ‘backpack.’”

“Backpack?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you’ll wrap your arms around me and hold on tight. Easy.”

She climbed onto the bike, hesitating as she tried to find her balance. Oscar steadied her with a firm hand on her knee.

“Relax,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re doing great.”

Once she was seated, she wrapped her arms tentatively around his waist.

“Tighter,” he instructed.

Yn tightened her grip, and he chuckled. “That’s better. Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she mumbled.

Oscar started the engine, and the bike roared to life. Yn squeaked, burying her face against his back.

“Don’t worry, babe,” he called over the sound of the engine. “You’re gonna love this.”

---

At first, the bike’s speed was overwhelming. The wind whipped past Yn’s face, and the vibrations beneath her were unlike anything she’d ever experienced. But as they sped down the open road, something shifted. The fear melted away, replaced by a sense of freedom she hadn’t expected.

The world blurred around her—streetlights streaked into golden lines, and the city buzzed faintly in the background. Yn tightened her arms around Oscar, pressing closer to him.

“You okay back there?” he shouted.

“Yeah!” she called back. “This is amazing!”

“Told you!”

They hit a red light, and Oscar slowed to a stop. He reached down, gently pulling her arms even tighter around his waist. His hand lingered for a moment, caressing her forearm.

“You’re doing great,” he said, glancing back with a soft smile.

Yn’s heart fluttered, and she smiled back. “Thanks.”

When the light turned green, they were off again, this time heading out of the city and toward quieter roads.

---

Oscar finally pulled over at a scenic overlook, the city lights twinkling like stars in the distance. The engine cut off, leaving a peaceful silence.

“How was it?” he asked, turning to look at her.

Yn pulled off her helmet, her hair slightly messy but her smile radiant. “It was incredible. I don’t know why I was so scared.”

Oscar smirked. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

He gestured for her to climb off the bike, then patted the seat in front of him. “Come here.”

She frowned. “What?”

“Sit here,” he said, patting the space again.

Curious, Yn climbed onto the bike, straddling the seat and facing him. Oscar’s hands came up to rest on her hips, pulling her closer.

“This is the best seat in the house,” he said, nodding toward the view.

Yn turned to look, and her breath caught. The sprawling city stretched out before them, glittering under the night sky.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“So are you,” Oscar said, his voice soft.

She turned back to him, her cheeks warming. “Stop it.”

“I mean it,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re my girl, Yn. And I’m glad I finally got to share this with you.”

Yn smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“Never,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “You’re my ride or die.”

They stayed like that for a while, Yn sitting in front of him, their arms wrapped around each other as they watched the city lights. The night was quiet, but the moment was electric, filled with the kind of love and trust that only grows stronger with time.

[lieslab]

I've tried to describe just how carefully I would carry you

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Seungmin X gn reader

Summary: Seasonal depression gets you down and Seungmin finds you right after you self-harm.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 2.9K

Self-harm resources

Trigger warning: Seasonal depression, self-harm, mentions of blood, a razor blade, and the guilt that comes after self-harming.

A/N: For this request, I really tried to make it cozy and warm. I hope as you read, you can feel the warmth laced through this story. It can be really hard during this time of year, but I hope this reminds you that there is warmth out there. Whether it's fireplaces, candles, or people, it exists. I'm rooting for you <3

_ _ _

Curled up in his usual chair, fire crackled and flames flickered in the reflection of Seungmin’s eyes. The fresh scent of burning cedar faded a while ago. In its place, he lit a cinnamon candle and let the sharp scent coat the living room. 

He sat tucked beneath the wool blanket that you gave him for Christmas. If there was one thing he constantly complained about, it was the outside temperature. Days turned into nights early and no matter what he did, that frosty feeling seemed etched into his bones. One draft would catch him and keep him cold for the rest of the night. 

It was different near the warmth of the fireplace. Flames cracked and grew. Outer bark hardened and charred black. The sun dipped beneath the horizon and the house grew dark, but it didn’t stay dark when the fire lit. Everything glowed a faint orange and across the way, the candle always flickered. 

It was the one thing he liked about winter. There was a cozy comfort in watching the fire. Something so beautiful lept and created so much warmth. He’d fallen asleep so content multiple times before. He’d wake up fully covered with the oversized blanket folded neatly in half and strung over his legs. 

Even if it was silent, you always contributed to his warmth. When you were around, his heart leapt and familiar butterflies brushed against the edge of his stomach. It didn’t matter how long he’d dated you for, it was always the same with you. You flickered the flames within him and you always would. 

This evening, a book sat on his thigh. He’d been captivated by the words on the page until he glanced up and realized he was alone. Across the way, you had been stretched out on the couch, but it sat abandoned now. Too engrossed in his book, he must have been too swept up to hear you leave. Despite that, loneliness spiked within him, as if he could feel the lack of your comforting presence; even if he wasn’t consciously aware of it. 

It wasn’t new for him. When you left the bed at night, he often woke up from a dead sleep. In the hazy darkness, he’d reach out for your body. He’d wait until you came back from using the bathroom or sneaking into the kitchen to get a drink. His eyes would stay shut, but he’d never fall back asleep until the bed dipped and your soft breathing reappeared. 

He’d roll over in your direction, never admitting that he was awake, but he’d nuzzle against your warmth. It was a silent and sweet gesture, you never realized that he was awake. You just thought that he missed you, even when you weren’t there. 

He shut his book and waited for you to reappear, but when the hand continued to tick around the clock for the fifth time, he pushed the book aside. Pulling the blanket off and throwing it over the arm of the chair, he began to head to the back of the house. 

The floor creaked beneath the weight of his socked feet. With the dip of his head, his black rounded reading glasses slid to the tip of his nose. He sighed, pushed them up, and began the search for you. 

Meanwhile, you were tucked in the four protective walls of the bathroom. Unlike Seungmin’s comfort by the fire, you never felt the same way. The warmth of the roaring fire didn’t replace the warmth of the sunlight. 

Lately, these dark evenings dragged on and on and on and on. You tried to busy yourself with TV shows and social media. Like Seungmin, you tried your hand at words in books, but that didn’t work. Even when you attempted to get back into hobbies that filled you with joy, you felt nothing. 

The gray skies sucked away your happiness and it had been like this for a while. Some people become giddy when summer shifts to fall. The scent of fresh leaves, the dingy browns and burnt oranges, long evenings, and cold nights; you hated everything about them. 

Even when you went outside, it didn’t make you feel better. A weight hung above your head and it lowered every day. Fall drifted into winter and the temperatures dipped even lower. Every time you ventured out to get the mail, you were reminded just how much you hated this time of year. 

Cold winter caressed your skin and dried out your nasal cavity. The moisture in the air disappeared and your lips cracked now. Even when you washed your hands, you felt the ache within them. Too many stripped oils and not enough moisture, your hands began to crack too. 

You were compressing internally and no matter what you did, you couldn’t shake the sadness. You tried to pretend, at least, for Seungmin’s sake that you were okay, but it never felt right. You were so aware that you were playing pretend and yet, you didn’t know how to bring it up to him. 

Every time he came home from work, he asked about your day. He asked for details and he listened to you while sipping a glass of green tea. His warm brown eyes peeked over the edge as he drank from a ceramic mug. You knew he wouldn’t judge you, but in a strange way, you felt like you’d disappoint him somehow. 

Your seasonal depression had the reigns of your brain. The more you kept it quiet, the more it destroyed you. You played the act of a doting significant other so well, he had no idea that you were seeping in sadness. Every time he looked into your eyes, he didn’t see the demons defeating you, he just saw you. 

You thought you were keeping him safe this way. At least, he didn’t have to worry about you. He’d spend his days focusing on himself and by keeping it hidden, you assumed you were doing him a favor. Sure, it may have been hard, but you believe in self-reliance and independence. Maybe when the nights turned into days and the grass grew greener, you could try again. 

When Seungmin knocked on the bathroom door, your eyes widened in the bathroom mirror. You were holding gauze to a fresh self-harm wound. You cursed beneath your breath and forced yourself to speak. “Yeah?” 

“Hey, are you okay? You’ve been missing for a while. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t fall in.” His voice was light-hearted and playful. He had no idea of your broken reality behind the locked door. 

“I’ll be out in a moment. Remind me to never eat one of your burritos again. This is all your fault, you know.” You wrapped your arm with more gauze and continued to play along. 

If he thought you were having bowel issues, at least, it’d keep him from finding out the truth. You couldn’t bear to tell him what you were really doing behind the cedar wood. As funny as it sounded, this was the only thing that made you feel somewhat normal. 

Self-harm wasn’t normal, but it eased your internal torment. In a way, it brought a strange wave of relief. It was a self-punishment for being a failure and deep down, you knew it was wrong. You knew how disappointed he’d be if he found out, but you couldn’t stop it either. 

You didn’t know when the first time was. You kickstarted the old habit and now you couldn’t stop. Caught in your own mouse trap, you couldn’t stop yourself from gnawing off your own leg. 

Outside the door, Seungmin sighed and gently pressed his forehead against the door. Even when you were away, he missed you. He’d never admit it out loud, but he pined over you every second of every day. 

His eyes shut and he was expecting the toilet to flush. He was expecting footsteps and the sink running, but he wasn’t expecting all the shuffling. The bathroom cabinet creaked open and then creaked shut. What sounded like cardboard shuffling peaked his hearing and then it shifted. 

His eyebrows furrowed and before he knew it, he leaned closer to the door. His ear pressed against the wood and the sounds grew louder. Faint cursing, more shuffling, the sound of the water turning on and off, but the toilet never flushed. He didn’t mean to intrude, but something about the situation just seemed off. 

You didn’t realize that he never walked away. You continued your routine like normal. Wrap the cuts in gauze, hide the blade, and wash your hands. Pull down your sleeves and pretend like you weren’t falling apart on the inside. You’d done this so many times, you were a natural at it. 

When he heard your footsteps, he backed away from the door and you swung it open. Your eyes met his and you forced a smile. “Did you need something?” 

“I-” He panicked, trying to think of something. “Um, I-” 

Your head tipped and his heart melted. You stared at him with soft eyes like a waiting puppy. If you were to have a tail, it would have been wiggling behind you as you waited for his command. 

When no words came out, he reached for your forearm and gently grabbed it. Your eyes widened and you hissed at the feeling of gauze rubbing against fresh wounds. His eyes widened again and he jerked his hands away. 

“What was that?” He asked as you pulled your forearm against your chest. “Are you injured? Did you hurt your arm?” Eager hands reached out, prepared to look you over, but you jerked away. 

“No! I’m fine. Totally and perfectly fine.” You stepped back and forced yourself to smile again, but he saw through it this time. You weren’t good at pretending anymore because you knew that he’d pry. 

“Just let me see your arm.” 

You shook your head and took a step back. “That’s not necessary. It’s just a small sprain. I bumped it on the counter in the bathroom and I-” 

“Woah, you’re bleeding!” 

“Huh?” 

You didn’t have time to look down at your arm. In a panic, Seungmin grabbed your hand and squeezed it. You tried to push his other hand away, but there wasn’t enough time. You let out a yelp when he pushed up the fabric to reveal bloodied gauze. 

He stared at the bright red blood in terror. Nausea clutched his stomach and when he saw the gauze, he panicked even more. “What is this?” 

“Nothing, really, it’s nothing.” 

“You’re bleeding through gauze and your shirt!” 

You tried to tug away before he could unveil the truth, but he didn’t let go of your hand. You tried to plead with him not to continue, but he was worried. You’d always been stubborn and maybe a little too independent for your own good. 

Even when you were falling apart, you were insistent that you were okay. He thought you injured yourself and you didn’t want to go to the doctor. If the cut was deep enough, you’d need stitches. If you didn’t get the cut disinfected and stitched, it could lead to infection and in the worst case scenario, you’d die. 

He was expecting a gaping wound. He held his breath and unwrapped the gauze with his single hand. Bloodborne illnesses be damned. The love of his life was injured and maybe you were already starting to feel the effects of an infection and- 

There were no words to describe the stomach-churning and heart drop that he felt when he found multiple fresh self-harm cuts. He always prided himself in not crying. He kept his tears away from you and joked that he was strong, but every person met their match at some point. 

“What did you do?” He uttered as tears pricked in his eyes. “What is this? Why did you-” 

It washed over you all at once. The embarrassment and the humiliation. Guilt flooded you and it choked you. The lump forming in your throat prevented you from being able to speak. 

He gently shifted your wrist and your arm moved slightly. Yesterday’s cuts had already scabbed over. Dark blood coagulated and kept you from bleeding out. Your own tears spilled down the apples of your cheeks. No words could mend the heartbreak filling either of you. 

“Why?” He finally uttered after a few seconds of silence. 

You shrugged, but it wasn’t good enough for him. His eyes met yours, but you glanced down at the floor. Shame burned your cheeks and stomach acid threatened to slide up the back of your throat. 

“You’re struggling internally, aren’t you?” 

All you could do was nod. You couldn’t see him through your tears anymore. Your bottom lip quivered and you threatened to burst at the seams. 

“Just let me clean this up first. This gauze isn’t enough, but-” His fingers gently grabbed the middle of your forearm. He pushed his head closer to inspect the cuts. “I don’t think these are deep enough for stitches.” 

You sniffled and let him lead you into the bathroom. He sat you down on the edge of the tub and washed his hands. Despite the unrest squeezing his heart, he didn’t want to make you feel worse about it. To your utter surprise, he began to sing a soft ballad. 

You stared at him in awe. Maybe it was because deep down, you expected him to be angry and disappointed in you. You thought that his anger would come out verbally in yells, but it never did. 

Whether you knew it or not, you were precious to him. He’d choose to love you in every lifetime if he could and this one was no different. You let him dab at the sticky blood. He shuffled through the medicine cabinet and found a larger band-aid. It’d hurt to peel off later, but it was large enough that the built-in-gauze would gently cover your cuts. Peeling off the bandage wouldn’t break the forming scabs. 

Once he was finished, he washed his hands. You sniffled once more and reached for nearby toilet paper. Before you could, he pressed a tissue into your hand. Not once did he stop singing. 

He kept singing as he carefully pulled off your long sleeve shirt and tossed it in the laundry hamper. He shrugged off his own zip-up jacket and helped you put your arms in it. After zipping you up, he led you back out to the living room. 

Your heart pounded against your chest and you waited for the lecture, but it didn’t come. He climbed back into his chair and the fireplace continued to crackle. The candle flickered, he grabbed the blanket, and he used it to cover up both of you. 

His arms found a home around your torso and he tugged you back against his body. “Do you know how much you mean to me?” He finally asked. 

You blinked and didn’t speak. Unsure of what to say, you just remained silent. He brushed a piece of hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear. “I’d do anything for you, if you asked me to.” 

“So please,” he went on. “Just ask me to be there for you because I’ll show up. I’ll show up over and over and over again. I’ll hold you through the cold and it might not work, but I’ll try to kiss away the pain.” 

“I’m sorry,” you finally uttered. “I feel awful this time of year and I’ve tried to deal with it on my own.” Your eyes stayed glued to the floor. Hurt wrung your heavy heart. 

“Don’t be sorry, just find me. Please talk to me and when you feel lost, let me be your light. Let me in. I’m not as bright as the sun, but I like to think I’m somewhat charming. If I can’t be bright enough to chase your sadness away, maybe I can woo it with my wit.” 

You shook your head and snorted. “Seungmin, that’s not how it works.” 

“Oh, yeah? How do you know? Have you ever tried it before?” 

“No, but-” 

He reached up and pressed a finger to your lips. Your eyes finally met his and you stopped talking. He pulled his finger away and leaned back. “I took care of you, so now I think you should take care of me.” 

“Oh.” 

“I want a kiss and you’re staying here for the next twenty minutes. No complaints, no huffs, and no whines. You’re going to stay here and feel my evil wrath.” 

“What wrath?” 

“The scent of my hoodie and the warmth of my body. If I can’t cure your sadness, I’ll melt it away.” 

“Once again, that’s not how it works.” 

“I think that’s a complaint and maybe a whine. I’m restarting your time. Now you can sit here for an extra minute. You were already at nineteen, but I’ll restart since you’re a brat.” 

“Suck my-” 

His hand covered your mouth instantly. “Do you want to make it another five?” He threatened. 

Just because you could, you licked his hand. 

He gagged and jerked his hand away. He shrieked and screamed about germs and diseases. His hand went up and he wiped it along the jacket you were wearing. Yet, a few minutes ago, he didn’t utter a peep about cleaning up your blood. 

So much for curing your sadness with his unique charm and wit. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

Ko-fi

[chrissturnsfav]

i miss star and chris so i’m thinking about star sending nudes to chris while he is in the studio with some of his others rappers friends 😁

⋆.˚✮ singer!reader gets rapper!chris riled up while working

you’re lounging on your bed in your oversized hoodie, scrolling through your phone aimlessly.

it’s quiet—too quiet. chris has been at the studio all day, and while you know he’s working hard, you can’t help but miss him.

you bite your lip, imagining him in that focused mode he gets into, headphones on, nodding to the beat, his hands gesturing as he spits bars.

but right now, you’re feeling somewhat needy and playful. maybe even a little daring.

you glance down at your phone, smirking as an idea takes shape. he’s probably surrounded by his team and some other rappers, but you can’t resist the urge to tease him a bit. it’s not like he’ll ignore you—he never does.

you stand up from your bed, the warm glow of the evening sun streaming through the curtains. slipping out of the hoodie, you pick something lacy and hot yet innocent looking from your drawer—just enough to pull his attention away from his music for a moment.

you slide a lacy, baby blue bralette on with the matching thong, the straps of the lingerie embroidered in a pretty white lace.

posing seductively in the soft light in front of your mirror, you snap a picture. you take a few more with the bralette off, one hand cupping your perky tit while the other takes the photo with your phone. the last one you take is an ass picture, your plush, smooth butt on display in the thong, snapping the picture from the back with a kissy face.

you check the lewd photos, make sure they're perfect—tasteful, and undeniably tempting. you send it with no context, giggling down at your phone screen in anticipation.

you hit send and sit back, your heart racing just a little. it’s risky, you know. he’s busy, and his phone’s probably buzzing with a million notifications. but you’re confident this one will catch his eye.

a few minutes pass, you're now sat on your bed still in the lacy two piece, and you’re already second-guessing yourself. maybe he’s too busy. maybe it wasn’t the right move. but just as you’re about to overthink it, your phone buzzes.

it’s him.

chris ma u rlly tryna start smt rn? read, 6:08 pm

you can almost hear the tone of his voice, that mix of playful and slightly frustrated because you know exactly what you’re doing.

you i was just making sure u don't forget about me😚 read, 6:09 pm

the dots appear immediately—he’s typing. it’s rare for him to respond this fast when he’s at the studio, and it sends a thrill through you.

chris  like i could forget you keep playin tho ima leave these dudes hangin fr read, 6:09 pm

you know he’s probably sitting there, trying to keep a straight face while his team’s talking, but his mind’s now somewhere completely different. feeling bolder, you decide to push him just a little more. you stand in front of your mirror again, sending him another lewd picture of your perky ass, knowing that's what he loves the most.

you can practically hear him groan through the phone when he responds to that picture and his response makes you snicker.

chris yo stop fr😭 read, 6:12 pm

then another one follows.

chris nah lemme wrap this session you playin too much read, 6:12 pm

you laugh out loud, knowing you’ve successfully derailed his focus. but it’s not over yet.

you  no rush baby i’ll just be here waiting looking like this 👀 read, 6:13 pm

you lean back, satisfied with your playful ideas, knowing you’ve got him exactly where you want him. it’s only a matter of time before he finds some excuse to cut things short and come home.

not even ten minutes pass before your phone buzzes again, and you know it’s him.

chris  you wild for that ma gimme 30 start the playlist n get the candles lit u know the vibe i’m on my way read, 6:18 pm

you feel a rush of excitement, hopping up from your bed. suddenly, your quiet house doesn’t feel so boring anymore. you scramble to set the mood, lighting your favorite candles and picking the playlist that always sets the tone for nights like this.

not long after, you hear the sound of his car pulling into the driveway. your heart skips a beat as your bedroom door opens, and there he is, standing there with that mix of exasperation and desire in his eyes.

"y'really couldn’t wait, huh?" he teases, setting his bag down as he looks you up and down, smirking as he swipes his tongue across his bottom lip.

"you weren’t mad about it, though," you reply, crossing your arms, a playful smile on your lips.

it's not long before chris has you flat on your belly on your bed, with your ass perched up in the air, your back arching as you moan loudly in pleasure into a pillow, your hands fisting the girly sheets of yours. the pretty baby blue lingerie set you had on is long gone now, sitting on the floor in a ball with chris’ clothes.

he's moving at a relentless pace behind you, his bare chest pressing against your back as he pants heavily in your ear, one hand squeezing your ass while the other slithers around your shoulders.

"dirty girl, sendin' me nudes while m'workin'," he snickers breathily in your ear, hissing in pleasure as he fucks you with zero mercy. the beats of your sex playlist and wet squelches along with your moans fill your ears and echo throughout your candlelit bedroom.

"n-needed...you," you whine barely coherently into your pillow, groaning in ecstasy. chris pulls your head out of your pillow by your throat, your mouth fully open and jaw locked, a smirk creeping on his lips at the sight of you.

he chuckles cockily through a growl at your words, watching your pretty face twist in ecstasy, "yeah, i know," he mumbles, grunting in your ear. "can tell ma, y'can barely form a sentence 'n this pussy's leakin' f'me."

thank you for reading! <3

tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @swagalicious260 , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888

@chrissturnsfav ™

[nativegirltapes]

okay so i’m from the south and one thing i know abt is baby daddy drama ESP with the new bf/gf involved with the baby- how would you think drew would handle tp!mom’s baby daddy? like i know damn well them white nc boys got some SEASONING

(also i LOVE angel and tp!mom!!!)

notes: kind of turned this into a whole drabble oops. also thank you!!! i’m glad u like them :))))

it’s a night when you and drew are finally alone, baby is at her dad’s house and you’ve got the trailer to yourselves. then all of a sudden your phone is getting blown up with text messages and calls from your baby daddy, you decline all the calls but take sometime to read the messages. he’s ranting about how “you’re a slut” and “you shouldn’t be seeing anyone else.”

drew can clearly tell you’re upset, “everything okay?” he placed a hand on your knee, your body jolted a little, you weren’t used to soft touch. “yeah, it’s just jason. he won’t leave me alone.” you knew it was only a matter of time before baby brought up drew to her dad, you just wish it wasn’t a night where you and drew were literally together.

drew knows you don’t keep in contact with jason for personal reasons, you do it strictly for baby, but that’s about all he knows. drew wasn’t aware of all that your baby daddy had put you through, you just didn’t need any pity. “is there anything i can do?” drew rubbed your back, “no,” you felt tears welling up in your eyes. “i’m sorry.” you muttered out.

“sorry? sorry for what?” drew jolted up in his seat, something was wrong. “i know i invited you over so we could have the house to ourselves, but i’m just not in the mood right now.” you mumbled, referring to the fact that you solely invited drew her for the night because baby was gone and you wanted to have sex.

“what? are you serious? you think that’s all i care about?” drew continued rubbing your back, you could tell he was offended but he didn’t raise his voice or get aggressive, you definitely weren’t used to that. “i’m here for you baby.”

you shifted yourself towards drew and drowned yourself in his chest, leaving tear stains in his shirt. “i’m sorry,”

after calming down, you explain everything to drew, and of course he’s there to listen with open ears. when you tell drew about jason and how crazy psychotic he is, drew definitely doesn’t take it lightly. he’s got an abundance of questions, first one being “how is he still able to see baby?” and you kind of just explain that it’s easier this way, if he gets to see baby, it makes your life easier. you feel guilty and selfish, but drew doesn’t make you feel bad for it.

drew tells you that he’s there to protect you and baby, but of course he wouldn’t do anything without your permission. he wouldn’t want to make your life harder by starting beef with your baby daddy. but your baby daddy on the other hand, he feels threatened by drew, and drew knows it.

but overall, i don’t think drew would try to get involved unless tp!mom wants him to. but he’s definitely pushing and encouraging her to get full custody of baby and get him out of their life. drew’s ready to spend a big buck on a laywer for you and baby if needed :,)

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"Marley's stickers." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

After returning from a supply run with stickers for his daughter, Daryl is no longer sure if giving them to Marley was a good idea when he finds his crossbow covered in them, especially when he has to leave again with his group.

@eline720: Allright. I see you write with a daughter. Can i please have a one shot when the daughter of Daryl have find stickers. And Daryl searches for his crossbow. Only to find it full of stickers on it. And then the daughter comes in with even more stickers but didn't see Daryl. I find it cute. But i can't write. So thank you so much if ur gonna do it :)

A/N: Hey, Love! Thank you so much for your request. I didn't have internet when I wrote it and I only read your request once, so it's not exactly how you asked :( but I REALLY hope you like it! Thanks♥

The first airs of spring enter the house the moment Daryl closes the door of his home.

He had been out of Alexandria for 3 days on the almost last supply run: there was one more on the south and that would be it. Sitting in the living room next to her mom, Marley jumps off the couch the moment her blue eyes meet her daddy's, a smile growing on her little face that her dad returns. She is about to be 5 years old, and is easy for Daryl to pick her up in his arms the second she reaches him. Marley practically presses her entire little body against her daddy's, her arms around his neck in a tight hug. For a moment, they stay like that in silence, letting the warmth of their embrace speak for them first, before telling each other how much they had missed each other.

When Marley finally pulls away a little bit to look at Daryl, he smiles the second she kisses his nose, something he did all the time as Marley grew up.

“I missed ya so much, angel.” Daryl uses one hand to push back an obstinate strand of his daughter's hair which almost always fell towards her face, looking into her eyes. “Did ya miss daddy?”

“I missed you so much, daddy.” Marley nods, pouting in her brave attempt not to cry when two nights ago, a nightmare woke her up and he wasn't there. “You will have to leave again?”

Daryl can see the sadness on his daughter's face as he walks to sit on the couch next to you, leaving on the floor his backpack and the crossbow that he held in one of the straps before sitting his daughter on his lap.

"Jus’ one more time, okay, angel? Then ya, me and Mommy can stay home all day. I'll finally let her teach me how to make those brownies ya love so much."

"But you'll have to wear the apron and everything." You try not to smile too much, but you love the way Marley's face lights up at his words. "You know, so you can get the full experience."

“Fine.” Daryl says with a slight hint of false annoyance, but he leans forward to kiss your cheek in greeting before turning his attention back to Marley. "I found some things for ya, angel. I even found some books without pictures for mommy."

“Boring!” She says giggling, but making a face she learned from her daddy.

In response, you wrinkle your nose.

"I gave birth to you but sometimes I don't recognize you as my daughter, baby."

Marley laughs, and it is a sweet and a warm sound that makes Daryl smile as he uses one hand to open his backpack and grab the things he found at a paper store. It is a book with pictures for children, some boxes of colors and sheets of stickers of cartoon animals, some with positive little messages, and when Daryl hands them to her, Marley smiles, her lips curling upward.

“I love them!” She has to tilt her head back a little to look him in the eyes, earning a kiss on the cheek that makes her giggle again. “Thank you, daddy. You are the best!”

She slides off his lap to go to the dining table behind the couch, leaving the two of you for a moment, but when your eyes meet, you chuckle.

“When we met, you swore you didn't love anyone and look at you now: you are a big softie for your daughter.”

Daryl chuckles, too.

“Dun get jealous, woman. Ya know I love ya too.” His fingers catch your chin in a gentle grip as he leans forward. Daryl presses a kiss on your lips, resting his forehead against yours for a moment. “I missed ya too, Mrs. Dixon. All of ya.”

You let out a soft giggle, loving the fact that you are a Dixon too.

“I missed you too, love.” You pull away slowly. "I'll get the food ready, okay? Marley didn't want to eat dinner until you arrived."

Daryl nods as you get up, getting up as well to walk towards his daughter. Marley is painting, with some colors scattered close to her, and she giggles when he picks her up again, sitting in the chair with her on his legs because Daryl knows she loves when he paints with her. And after a while when they finish the first picture, Marley pulls off a sticker of a yellow fox holding a sign: you did it! and sticks it on his vest at the height of his heart.

Daryl hides his smile, frowning playfully.

“You did it, Daryl Dixon.” She smiles. “You did a very good job.”

“Did he?” You joke the moment you put two plates on the table. “It seems a bit messy to me.”

"What? Ya’re crazy, woman, this is a masterpiece." Daryl looks at you as if you've gone really crazy or don't know how to appreciate art. "We should replace Marley’s drawin’ on the fridge and put mine up."

“No!” Marley frowns too. "Now I don't think you deserve the sticker, daddy."

“Hey!” Daryl covers it with his hand when she tries to take it back. “Ya gave it to me, young lady. S’daddy’s now.”

Marley giggles, forgetting the matter quickly.

When dinner is over, Daryl holds his daughter’s hand as they walk up the stairs towards the second floor to get Marley ready for bed. He does it alone to make up for the days and nights he had lost with her, finally tucking her in before telling her one of those stories about he and Uncle Merle playing when they were kids. Marley grew up loving Uncle Merle, and although she didn't know he was a jerk most of the time, Daryl knew his brother would have loved his niece.

Waking up the next morning, the sunlight in that warm season of the year bathes the place and the white walls, and finding himself alone, Daryl rubs his face with one hand, pushing some strands of his brown and long hair out of his face in the way. But the moment he stretches out his arm, Daryl can feel something sticky against his bare chest: and when he slightly raises his head to look down, he frowns as he sees a lot of stickers around his tattoo. So he just chuckles, putting his head back in the pillow.

And when Daryl walks into the kitchen; you're eating a strawberry while making breakfast as he finishes buttoning his shirt up.

“I think I’m gettin’ old, peach.” His voice is deeper in the morning, and you chuckle as he passes you by, kissing you first.

“Why?”

“I used to be a light sleeper ‘fore we had Marley, and now I can't feel when our daughter decides to put stickers on ma body while I'm sleepin’.”

You laugh.

“Where?”

“Around the tattoo on ma chest. Had to check that she didn't put ‘em on ma back too.”

You're smiling, loving the situation too much.

“But you pulled them off, right?”

Daryl clears his throat, watching the kitchen clock.

“I’m gotta get ma stuff from the garage. Told Rick we’re leavin’ before 10.” He walks the other way, leaving the room towards the garage that is behind the dining room. The hallway the connects the two parts of the house is empty until Marley walks from the other side, hiding her hands behind her back. "What are ya doin’ in the garage, lil’ mouse?"

Her hair is a little bit messy in the mornings, and Daryl smiles as he watches it.

“Nothin’, daddy.” Marley smiles back, surrounding him without turning her back on him. “Love you!”

The moment she reaches the door, she runs back to her mom, leaving Daryl alone as he walks into the room. He learned to put his stuff on the highest shelves when Marley was a baby, and although you two never left her alone in that place, now she had learned not to go near the tools, but when Daryl finally gets to the place where he had put his crossbow last night, not so high this time, he has to close his eyes for a moment.

He's not upset, just... embarrassed.

Daryl takes the crossbow, putting one of his backpack’s strap around his shoulder before walking back into the living room. The moment he takes a step into the room, he can see Marley sitting on the chair next to the table, but when you look up, you have to cover your mouth with one hand, eyes slightly open in surprise: the crossbow is full of colorful stickers, all over it.

“Marley Rose Dixon, care to explain this?”

His voice is always deep, and even though that is the first time Daryl has used his daughter's full name, she looks back at him, eyes smiling because she wasn't even the slightest bit afraid of her daddy, no matter how serious he gets.

"Last night you said that when an object has only one color it was okay for me to color it, daddy."

Daryl sighs.

“I meant the pictures on yer book, Marley. Not daddy’s stuff.”

Marley looks confused, and you rub your face with one hand, trying to kill a laugh.

“I can take them off. It will only be a few minutes.”

Daryl scratches his forehead, not ready to face the jokes and laughter that were to come from Rick and Glenn as he comes closer to you.

“S’okay. I’m runnin’ late anyways.” He holds the back of your head with one hand, pressing a kiss on your lips. “Ya can laugh after I’m gone.��

You nod, closing your mouth when he dares to slap your butt playfully, kneeling next in front of Marley to look into her eyes.

“Ya can put all the stickers ya want on daddy’s chest, but not on his stuff. Okay, ma lil’ angel?” He says softly, smiling when she smiles back. “Good. Now give me a hug.”

Marley wraps her arms around his neck, his free hand hugging her small body.

"Please take care, daddy. I love you."

“Love ya too, baby.”

Daryl kisses her cheek, getting up to leave his home once last time. The sun is warm on the exposed skin from his sleeveless shirt, but the moment he reaches Alexandria gate where one member of his family is waiting next to the passenger door of the truck, Glenn has to cover his mouth in shock, trying really hard not to laugh.

“Shut up.” Daryl says, almost threatening like when they met in Atlanta.

Glenn bites his lips, raising hands in a sign of peace.

“Now I love my little Marley even more.” He says after a few seconds, but hearing his niece’s name, Rick walks around the truck, laughing in surprise, so loudly when he sees Daryl's crossbow in his hand, so much so that he has to put his hands on his knees. “Wait! How is it that Rick can laugh?”

Daryl narrows his eyes at Rick, hating him for a moment. But ignoring the laughter, Daryl opens the passenger door and puts his things on the floor before climbing in, closing it with a little more force than necessary.

“Are ya done? I got a lil’ girl at home, ya dickfaces. Now let’s go ‘fore I shoot an arrow at yer faces.”

Rick has to put a hand on his chest to calm down, walking around the truck to get inside while Glenn does the same thing on the seat behind them. A man in charge of the gate opens it for the small group, and as the truck moves down the road, Daryl looks outside the window, waiting for the moment when he could return to his girls, no matter what jokes he had to endure first.

@fluffy-dixon

[glossdebut]

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ 03

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SERIES SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you.

✧ SERIES TAGS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fake/pretend relationship (not main couple), rockstar!yoongi, model!reader, guitarist yoongi, singer jungkook, bassist taehyung, drummer jimin, manager namjoon, yoongi & maknae line are in a rock band, reader & seokjin are best friends, yoongi & hoseok are best friends (sope duo ftw), yoongi has a tongue piercing, reader is a brat

✧ CHAPTER TAGS/WARNINGS: THE JEJU TRIP BEGINS!, JK is clueless and a little bit annoying, jimin and taehyung are meddlers, seokjin wishes he was fishing, yoongi is a bitch as per usual, aqua uses ANOTHER arctic monkeys song as a plot device, A BIG REVEAL OF SORTS!, idk a lot of stuff happens in this chapter, the exposition is expositioning (see series masterlist for series warnings)

✧ CHAPTER WORDCOUNT: 7.4k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi everyone! happy belated taehyung day and happy new year! writing this chapter kicked my ass. it sat at 1k-ish words for almost the ENTIRE month until i miraculously busted out the final 6.4k in less than 48 hours. but it’s hereeeeee! a big thank you to tanni @yooniivrse for beta reading and mj @kkaetnipjeon for answering my many, many questions about jeju <3

P.S. the jeju house in this is modeled after an airbnb i found online (with a few alterations to fit my perception of yoongi’s taste) so if my description isn’t enough for you to picture it, here is the link to the house i modeled it after!

P.P.S. i finally got my taglist sorted out! if your username is missing at this point, it means i straight up don’t have it. comment and/or fill out my taglist form if you want to be added!

CH. 03: WHAT DO YOU KNOW?

Jeju is a big change of pace for you.

You spend your days in Seoul with little reason to step outside of city limits. It’s so big, offering anything and everything you could possibly need. When you do happen to travel, it’s always for work, and always to some other booming metropolis. It’s difficult to recall the last time you’d been surrounded by such lush greenery as opposed to the impenetrable walls of slate grey you’ve grown accustomed to.

It feels like a miracle that your manager, Seoyeon, was able to swing this for you, even if there are a few strings. You’re still technically working—you always are, whether it’s through the brand of clothes you’re seen wearing or the model of car you’re seen leaving the airport in. A walking advertisement. But still, she’s managed to finesse things so you don’t have any shoots lined up for the next few weeks.

You don’t think you’ve been to Jeju since your last trip with Seokjin, the summer after you graduated high school. A trip that Seokjin spent fishing and you spent sunning. And the two of you, funded by the money Seokjin had saved up during his second year of college, certainly weren’t staying in a place like this.

Yoongi’s house in Seogwipo is far from what you imagined.

It’s huge, but you knew to expect that, at least. Two floors, four bedrooms, three bathrooms. More than enough space to accommodate a rock band and their instruments (and their egos), which is why it was purchased in the first place.

But given what you know about Yoongi, and the fact that the band only comes here when they need to write an album, you weren’t expecting it to be so… homey.

The walls are painted a soft sage green. Dark wooden furnishings, splashes of charcoal grey and cream. A screened-in patio on the first floor that leads to a gorgeous garden with a wooden (and from the looks of it, hand-built) free standing swing. A terrace on the second floor with a beautiful view of the surrounding beach village.

There are fucking houseplants all over the place, thriving in the natural light the many windows offer. It looks like somebody lives here, even though you’d bet your left tit that Yoongi doesn’t. 

It doesn’t look to his taste, or at least what you’d imagine his taste to be. Dark and minimalistic, rather than dark and cozy. Cold, clinical. Yoongi’s apartment is probably as inviting as a hotel suite.

Maybe Yoongi owns it, but Namjoon maintains it. That’d make sense.

You think about asking, just to satisfy your own curiosity, but as everyone disperses to drop their bags, you decide it’s not worth it. Namjoon is preoccupied with his managerial duties, unloading equipment and instruments from the car, and nothing good seems to ever come out of talking to Yoongi anyway.

Jeongguk, ever the gentleman, wrenches your bags from your hands before you even get a chance to figure out which room you’ll be staying in. Hefting the strap of a duffel bag over his shoulder, extra large rolling suitcases in each hand, he carries everything up the stairs with alarming ease, leaving you no choice but to follow. He has your bags, after all.

You follow him silently into a bedroom on the second floor. It’s only when he tosses all of the bags onto the bed that you realize, with shocking clarity, that you and Jeongguk are expected to share a room.

This room. Which only has one bed. Because happy couples sleep in the same bed.

“You okay?” Jeongguk asks, the sound of his voice effectively tearing your eyes away from the mattress-shaped elephant in the room.

You really need to get better at keeping control of your facial features, instead of looking like you’re going to be sick at every perceived complication.

“Is, um,” you start, pointing at the bed. “Are we…?”

Realization crosses over Jeongguk’s face as his gaze follows the direction of your finger.

“Oh, fuck,” he huffs, big boba eyes widening. “I didn’t really think about it, to be honest with you.”

Well, that’s not very reassuring.

“Oh,” you say, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, even though you’re feeling very much the opposite. 

Being on this trip is bad enough. You already feel like you’re intruding on something you’ll never really be a part of, despite all of Jeongguk’s insistence that you being in Jeju with him will do wonders for your story’s credibility. But the idea of sharing a bed with him is just… It’s too much. It’s too real.

Somewhere in a hospital back in Seoul, Seokjin is laughing at your expense. You can sense it.

“It’s fine,” Jeongguk says, waving his hand dismissively. 

“Jeongguk,” you huff. You don’t want to be a bitch, but you can’t help but get frustrated—on behalf of yourself and his girlfriend, who you’re allegedly doing all of this bullshit for in the first place. He’s been here, has lived in this house for weeks on end as long as they’ve been writing albums here. He should’ve known this would be a problem. 

“I don’t think your girlfriend would like it very much if she knew we’d be sharing a bed while we’re here.”

“I’ll figure it out,” he says, apparently oblivious to the irritation that’s starting to come off of you in waves. “I’m sure there’s a couch I can move in here or something.”

“Okay,” you say stiffly. You’re unconvinced, but if he wants to figure out how to move a couch in here unnoticed, that’s up to him.

“Seriously,” Jeongguk insists, squeezing your shoulder in reassurance. “I’ll take care of it. Come on, let’s go back downstairs.”

“You go ahead,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m gonna unpack a little before I head down.” 

Jeongguk shrugs, leaving the room without fighting you on it. Thank god, too. You need a few minutes to decompress before you willingly head back into the belly of the beast.

Shit, this was a bad idea. This was all a bad idea, and you just keep going along with it because you’re incapable of saying ‘no’ where Jeon Jeongguk is concerned. 

Meeting the band after their last concert was one thing. A necessary evil, in order to sell all of this. Even hijacking their tour wrap dinner wasn’t that big of a deal—it certainly felt good to put Yoongi in his place, you have no problem admitting that.

But this? Sharing a house with the other members who all think you’re someone you’re not, just for some airport pictures? A few Instagram posts? It feels like you’re both taking things too far.

And then there’s Yoongi. 

Yoongi, who hasn’t spoken a word to anyone since the plane took off from Incheon. You didn’t think so many questions could be answered with hums and grunts, but you’re almost impressed by how wrong he’s proven you. It’s all in the inflection, it seems.

He’s pissed. Whether it’s still about the dinner, or just the fact that you’re here at all, you don’t know. Normally, you’d jump at the chance to piss him off further, just on principle. But being in such close quarters like this…. All a pissed Yoongi is going to do is cause more problems for you.

You’re deliberating on whether or not proposing a truce would be worth it when you finally leave the bedroom, heading towards the stairs. 

Everyone seems to be doing their own part in setting up for the trip. Namjoon and Jeongguk are outside clearing out what remains in the car, visible through the glass of the front door. Taehyung is pacing around the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets and recording his findings in the notes app of his phone. And…

Speak of the devil. Yoongi is helping Jimin set up his drum kit in the middle of the living room, right smack in front of your face as you reach the foot of the staircase.

Since you’ve been upstairs, he’s shed the stupid black puffy coat he was wearing at the airport. The sweater that was underneath too, it seems, leaving him down to a long-sleeved white thermal. 

It makes sense–-Jeju is more temperate than Seoul, and the heat is blasting in the house anyway.

He’s sprawled out on the floor, on his back as he attaches the legs to the kick drum while Jimin deals with the toms. It’s not as if drum kit assembly is particularly interesting to you. You don’t know why you stop and look, but you do. 

Yoongi is always so buttoned up, both metaphorically and literally. Especially with the chill that’s been permeating Seoul for the past two months. Everyone’s been drowning in layers—except you, thanks to Hyerin. And it’s so, so stupid, but the hem of Yoongi’s shirt is bunched up just the slightest bit as he reaches for a screwdriver. It’s just the faintest hint of pale skin, right above the waistband of his jeans, but it’s more than you’ve ever seen from him. For some reason, you just can’t bring yourself to look away.

But then he adjusts and its gone, forcing you to snap out of whatever bizarre reverie you’ve found yourself in.

When you glance up, he’s staring right back at you. Your eyes zero in on his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip, just a flash of the little silver barbell there before it’s gone again. His eyebrow raises in recognition, like he’s caught you doing something you shouldn’t.

…Are you doing something you shouldn’t?

“You’re doing that wrong,” you blurt, relief flooding you when he breaks first, his head swiveling to look over his handiwork with a furrowed brow. 

Your diversion gives you enough time to sneak away towards the kitchen. Yoongi’s muttered ‘what the fuck do you know’ reaches your heated ears as you pass by, but you have no choice but to let it go.

What the fuck. You really need to get laid if an inch of skin can make heat crawl up your neck like this. From Min Yoongi, no less.

★ ★ ★

Time spent hiding in the kitchen reveals the method to Taehyung’s cabinet-snooping madness: building a grocery list. 

Once your little freakout subsides, you’re fully briefed on the process, joining him in taking stock of what’s here and what isn’t. To your surprise, many of the shelf-friendly basics have been kept in full stock, leaving mostly perishables (meats, vegetables, and fruits) to be added to the list. After Taehyung’s phone is passed around for everyone’s additions, Namjoon and Yoongi roll out to go grocery shopping at a nearby market.

It isn’t lost on you that the pair are acting a bit strangely towards each other—and it can’t just be because of what went down at the dinner. Ever since you met the band at Incheon, they’ve given Yoongi a noticeably wide berth. But the maknaes still talked to him, despite the lackluster responses (grunts) they received in return.

Even Jeongguk has been interacting with Yoongi, and he was the one who drove him out of Yoojung Sikdang in the first place! You haven’t seen Namjoon look his way all day. He still isn’t, you note, as you watch their car retreat through the window.

Weird.

Not that you care, of course. Yoongi deserved what he got at that dinner, as far as you’re concerned. You don’t regret calling those reporters. You told Seokjin you wanted to make his life a living hell, and you’d meant it. 

But still, you can’t help the guilt that gnaws at you at the possibility that you’re playing the part of Yoko Ono. You’re sure Yoongi thinks so.

Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi. Who gives a fuck? It’s not like you’re here for him. You’re here for Jeongguk. You just need to put him out of your mind, you decide.

You make your way through the house, intent on finding Jeongguk to help with whatever else needs to get done tonight, when you’re ambushed by two maknaes that are clearly up to no good.

“YN-ieeee,” Jimin sing-songs. There’s a mischievous look in his eye as he grabs you by the hand and pulls you towards the living room.

“Come sit with us,” Taehyung insists, plopping himself down on the couch and patting the space next to him.

“I was actually looking for Jeongguk,” you say, eyeing both of them. But you relent anyway, stiffly sitting down on the couch where they now flank you.

“He gets you all the time,” Jimin says. He smiles brightly, turning his body towards you and tilting his head as he studies you. “It’s our turn. We have a question for you.”

Oh, you do not like this one bit. 

“A question?”

“A question,” Taehyung repeats, nodding.

“Okay, um,” you start, unsure of which one of them to look at. You settle on Taehyung, because he’s far less menacing. “Go ahead?”

“What’s going on with you and Yoongi-hyung?” Jimin asks.

Fuck. So much for putting him out of your mind.

It’s a fair question, but still, your head turns so fast in Jimin’s direction that you swear you hear a crack in your neck.

“Wh-what? What do you mean?”

“The animosity,” Jimin purrs. He’s still grinning at you, all charming teeth and deceptively cute mochi cheeks. “You both just met, right? Where’d that come from?”

This is a nightmare.

It’s not like you can tell them the truth, as much as you may want to. Until you can figure out exactly what it is Yoongi claims to know about you, he pretty much has you backed into a corner. Plus, you’ll be living with him for at least a few weeks. You’re not against ruining his time here in small, inconsequential ways, but this is decidedly not that.

You’ll keep the peace. For now.

“I think Yoongi-ssi and I just got off on the wrong foot,” you explain. It’s not a complete lie, to be fair. “I’ve been meaning to talk to him about what happened at Yoojung Sikdang…”

“That was ugly,” Taehyung says, wincing at the memory.

“Yeah,” Jimin agrees. “Does he really think the photographers were your fault?”

Yes, because they were.

“I guess so,” you sigh. “I don’t blame him, honestly. I would’ve thought the same if I were him. I feel really bad about the whole thing.”

“Don’t,” Taehyung says emphatically as he clasps one of your hands in his. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Taehyung since you’ve met him, it’s that he’s not very big on personal space. He’s so casual about it, though, that you’re finding you don’t mind all that much.

“We can talk to him if you want us to,” Jimin says. “Yoongi-hyung can be a real asshole when he puts his mind to it, and you don’t deserve that.”

“No! No, it’s fine,” you insist, trying not to panic. For whatever reason, Yoongi has kept his suspicions about you between the two of you. As far as you know, at least. You’d like to keep it that way. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Are you sure?” Jimin asks, eyeing you.

“I’m sure.”

Thankfully, they both seemingly let it go after that. When Jeongguk reappears, he joins the three of you on the couch and the conversation moves to safer topics, all of them excitedly chattering to you about what they plan to do while they’re in Jeju. 

Apparently, the four always make a point to visit a nearby citrus orchard when they come here. It sounds fun, and for the first time since Jeongguk invited you, you allow yourself to feel the slightest bit of excitement about this trip. You can’t help it. You fucking love tangerines. 

Namjoon and Yoongi return from the market an hour or so later. 

Namjoon enlists the help of the maknaes to help him haul bags of groceries inside, leaving you to hover awkwardly as Yoongi moves around the kitchen.

He and Namjoon must’ve talked or something. He looks much more at peace than he did when they left. At least, until he catches you staring.

“What?” Yoongi asks, narrowing his eyes at you as he procures a cutting board from a cabinet.

“Just wondering if you need any help,” you say, a practiced, saccharine smile on your face.

“From you?” he scoffs. “I’m good.”

“At least I offered.”

“You’re a regular Mother Teresa.”

You roll your eyes as you watch him pull what he needs from the knifeblock, silently praying he cuts one of his precious guitar-playing fingers off. But your intent to voice that hope is thwarted by Namjoon and the rest of the members ambling back inside, arms full of grocery bags.

Yoongi clearly doesn’t want you lingering, so after you help clear off the counter, you make yourself scarce until dinner is done.

You busy yourself with texting Seokjin with an update on how things are going. You know he’s probably at work, so you try to keep it as succinct as possible despite everything that’s happened since you’ve arrived—Yoongi’s icy behavior, the confusion surrounding your sleeping arrangement, the (resolved?) tension between Namjoon and Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung’s interrogation.

And then, because you want him to at least envy you a little bit, you send him pictures of the house—and then brag about your proximity to fish.

You: we’re like a 5 min walk from a fishing port too lol

A few minutes later, your phone buzzes, and you can’t help your snort at his response. It’s a selca of him pouting in his scrubs, covered in stickers of an agonized Mario.

SuckJin: I h8 u

You: <3

The rest of the night goes smoothly, all things considered. Yoongi’s maeun-tang is delicious, which is slightly annoying, but you’re not one to take good food for granted. Plus, the two of you are a lot more amicable during this dinner than the last one you shared together.

After dinner, everyone finishes setting up the equipment in the living room, which quickly turns into an impromptu jam session under the guise of testing the setup. It’s nice, being able to watch them play together without the pressure of a stage, of a crowd. They’re just fooling around, playing whatever sounds right, joking back and forth—and you get to witness it.

You’re just about to get out of their hair and head upstairs when Jeongguk gets up, intercepting you before you reach the staircase.

“Hey,” he says softly, tilting his head towards the patio. “Come outside with me?”

Wordlessly, you nod, confused as you follow him outside. Jeongguk guides you over to the swing you were admiring when you’d all arrived. You can’t help but notice how nervous he looks as you both sit, but you try not to assume the worst.

“I feel like you were kinda mad at me,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Earlier.”

About the bed? Yeah, kind of. But you didn’t realize you’d made it so obvious.

“It’s fine,” you insist, shaking your head. “I was more flustered than anything, honestly. I just don’t want to get you into trouble.”

“You won’t,” he huffs, smiling a little. “I moved a couch into our room while Yoongi and Namjoon-hyung were gone. Like I said I would.”

Oh. Well. Now you kind of feel like a bitch.

“I’ll take it,” you offer. “You’re the one who’s here for work, anyway. I’d feel bad if I didn’t—”

“No, I’ll take it,” Jeongguk says, ignoring your responding huff. “Come on, YN-ah. I’ll barely be working while we’re here, anyway. It always goes the same way: Yoongi-hyung pretends like he’s going to let us help, and then he writes the entire album by himself. The rest of us are basically on vacation.”

“Besides, you’re here as a favor to me,” he adds. “Let me take the couch.”

You want to protest, but once Jeon Jeongguk sets his mind to something, it’s pretty much impossible for anyone to stand in his way.

“Fine.”

“Speaking of Yoongi-hyung…”

You groan, leaning your head back against the support of the swing. Everyone wants to talk about Min fucking Yoongi today. “What about him?”

“Is he playing nice?”

“He’s barely spoken to me,” you mutter, turning your head to level Jeongguk with a look. “So yes, he’s playing very nice. For him.”

“What’s his deal with you?” he asks, curious. Isn’t that just the question of the day?

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you say. “Jeongguk, it’s fine. Seriously. He doesn’t like me, I don’t like him, but I’m dealing with it. It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Jeongguk clearly disagrees, but he holds it in, which you’re thankful for. At least you can be more candid with him than you can with Jimin and Taehyung.

“Just let me know if that changes, okay?”

“I will,” you mumble.

“Let me know if anything changes,” he corrects, nudging your shoulder with his. “Like… If you don’t want to do this anymore. I know it’s a lot.”

“It is,” you agree, sighing. “But nothing’s changed, Guk. I’ve dealt with assholes before. Min Yoongi is nothing compared to the worst of them.” 

If only he could know just how much you mean that.

“I just wish you two could get along,” he says, fiddling with his lip ring nervously. “Yoongi-hyung is a good guy when you get to know him. I’ve never seen him like this before.”

You don’t know what to say to that, partially because you have a hard time believing it. You have absolutely zero evidence that Yoongi is a good guy, and you’re more likely to believe that they’ve all just known each other way too long. That Jeongguk is blinded by admiration for his hyung.

“I’m sorry,” you say, because it’s all you have to offer. “I wish we could get along, too.”

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, the swing rocking your bodies back and forth. But you can only take it for so long.

“I’m gonna head up. You coming?”

“No,” Jeongguk says, shaking his head as you stand up. “You go ahead. I’ll be in later.”

You feel bad for leaving him alone when he’s so clearly upset, but you know there’s nothing you can say or do to fix it. Just another thing outside of your control. They’re piling up, aren’t they?

You offer him a sympathetic smile, and then you head inside, leaving him with his thoughts.

★ ★ ★

You’re up bright and early the next morning, a full afternoon of Teams meetings ahead of you. Luckily it’s nothing too laborious—some planning for your schedule prior in light of the new year, calls that were scheduled long before you were invited to Jeju.

Jeongguk didn’t make it in before you fell asleep last night. You find that he’s already gone when you wake, too, blankets left in disarray on the couch he’s wedged into the corner of the room. 

Guiltily, you resign yourself to staying locked in the bedroom until you’re done with your work. It’s only right to give him time with his hyungs, something he obviously needs after your conversation last night. You’re happy to leave him be, if that’s what he needs.

You’d set your alarm with plenty of time to scroll aimlessly on your phone before you need to get up, so you do just that, reading through missed texts and Instagram notifications in a groggy haze. After, you wash your face and brush your teeth in the adjoining bathroom before setting your laptop up on the bed. 

Your calls go fine, although you’re bored to tears the whole time. You don’t know why Seoyeon even adds you to these things—it’s not like you have any control over your career. They might as well cut out the middleman and brief you on their decisions via email. But instead, you silently snack on a power bar you find stashed in your bag as your life for the next calendar year is mapped out for you, smiling and nodding when necessary.

As time passes, you lose track of how many faces have cycled through your screen. You stay glued to the same spot call after call, your stiffened legs pins and needles underneath you, and you only register how much time has passed when the bedroom door swings open. 

“Hey. You in a meeting?”

Your eyes snap up from your laptop to find Jeongguk poking his head into the bedroom. With a quick glance to your calendar, you realize you’ve just finished your last call of the day, and it’s not even two in the afternoon.

“No, I’m all done,” you say, shutting your laptop and waving him in. “What’s up?”

“Namjoon-hyung’s gotta go back to Seoul, so we’re taking him to the airport,” Jeongguk says, kicking the door closed behind him and sitting on the edge of the bed. “And then we’re gonna fuck around in Jeju City for a little bit. See the sights and all.”

“Oh, okay.”

Is this an invite, or…?

“Yoongi-hyung’s staying, though.”

Fuck. Nope, not an invite.

“Is he,” you hum, acting as unbothered as possible.

“We got some songs started today,” Jeongguk says, studying your expression for a moment. “The rest of us are burnt out, but he wants to keep going.”

“Well, do you want me to join you guys, or—”

“I want you to stay and talk to him.”

There it is.

“Jeongguk,” you huff, a protest on the tip of your tongue.

“YN, it’s worth a shot! Maybe if you two have a chance to talk you’ll find out you have more in common than you think.”

“I don’t think he’ll be happy if I interrupt his songwriting to have some kind of Kumbaya moment, Guk,” you sigh.

Jeongguk stands up from the bed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“Can’t you at least try?” he says, his voice clipped as he paces. “Both of you are so fucking stubborn. Maybe you can bond over that.”

He’s one to talk about being stubborn, but whatever. You’ll let it slide, only because you feel so fucking guilty.

A long moment passes, and at your silence Jeongguk stops in his tracks to look at you expectantly. Fuck. Fuck this man and his stupid big brown eyes.

“I can’t promise you anything,” you finally say.

“Like I said, I just want you to try.”

He’s still tense, but at the hint of acquiescence from you, he softens. And that little bit of softness is enough for you to fully give.

“Fine,” you huff. You can already feel a migraine coming on.

“Thank you,” he beams, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, patting his back. Your heart flutters just the slightest bit because you’re a weak, weak woman. “Just don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

“I won’t!” he promises, pulling away with a bright grin. Hopes absolutely all the way up.

Goddammit. You hope Yoongi is feeling talkative today, because if not, you’re going to be the one crushing this poor guy’s dreams.

At this point, you’ll make him talk if you have to. Anything to keep that from happening.

“Go,” you say, nudging him towards the door. “I can’t talk to him until you guys leave.”

He clearly doesn’t need any more motivation than that, because then he’s out the door.

“You’re the best, YN!” he calls as he books it down the hallway, leaving you to flop back onto the bed with a groan.

Well. You’ve fucked yourself now.

***

You allow yourself the luxury of taking a shower before you head downstairs to face Yoongi. Maybe part of you is trying to prolong your peace, but you also haven’t felt clean since you got off the plane yesterday.

Still, you take your time, giving your hair a thorough wash and meticulously applying your skincare. By the time you dry off and exit the bathroom, a large cloud of steam follows you into the bedroom, still lingering in the air as you pull on some clean clothes.

What’s the right outfit to wear while you’re waving a white flag at your sworn enemy? Will a sweater and jeans cut it? You reason that you might as well be comfortable for this, settling on something soft and cashmere for the top—because you’re worth it!—and then pulling on a baggy pair of blue jeans.

Your socked feet finally pad down the stairs in search of the man himself, but you don’t have to look very far.

Yoongi sits cross-legged on the floor in the living room, his signature custom McCarty laid across his lap as he scribbles in the notebook in front of him, brow furrowed.

You know it’s not going to be easy to get him to talk, but you can’t help but feel annoyed when you sit down in front of him and he doesn’t even lift his head. Asshole.

“Yoongi,” you say, waving your hand in front of his face.

It doesn’t make him look at you, still scribbling away, but you at least get a grunt in return this time. You’ll take it.

“Don’t you think you should take a break?” you say. It’s obvious you’re fishing, but looking at him, it’s clear he needs one anyway. He looks exhausted. Did he even sleep? Or did he start working when everyone else called it a night? He’s not wearing the same clothes from last night, white thermal replaced with a black t-shirt and matching beanie, but that doesn’t mean he slept.

Not that you care. 

“No.”

Okay, you expected that. God forbid he make things easy for you.

You watch as he drops his pen, gaze still on his open notebook as he strums at the strings of his guitar, humming a half-baked melody under his breath.

“Why’d you pick Jeju?” you ask, satisfaction swelling when he glances up, meeting your eyes. But then it fizzles out when he looks away again.

The seconds tick by and he remains as tight-lipped as ever. Annoyed and antsy, you resort to filling the silence yourself, hoping you’ll get him to break if you just keep talking.

“I mean, it’s nice here, but you guys could write an album anywhere. There’s gotta be a reason you picked here, of all places.”

More silence. You want to give up—you could give up. You could easily tell Jeongguk you tried, and it wouldn’t necessarily be a lie. But you owe it to him to try harder.

Huffing, you reach out and close the notebook between your sitting bodies, earning a sharp glare from the man in front of you.

“C’mon, Yoongi,” you plead. “I’m really trying to get to know you here.”

With a long sigh, Yoongi looks up at the ceiling, his eyes rolling dramatically.

“Okay, fine,” he concedes. “If it’ll get you to shut the fuck up. What do you wanna know?”

Triumphantly, you ask about the house—if you’re going to be forced to make nice, you might as well ask questions you actually want to know the answers to. Who actually owns this house and why seems like as good a place to start as any.

“I own it,” Yoongi says. It seems like he’s going to try and leave it at that, but when you fix him with a withering stare, he continues with a sigh. “It used to be an Airbnb, but after our first stay I wanted it for myself. So once I had enough money from the first album, I negotiated with the owner. Bought it for a ridiculous price, but it’s mine.”

“It looks so well-maintained,” you offer, hoping he’ll continue if you resort to flattery. Plus, it’s true.

“I didn’t just buy it for us,” he says opening his notebook again. It doesn’t go unnoticed that he slides it out of your reach. “My family uses it sometimes, like a vacation home. When I was growing up, they always talked about taking family trips here during the summer, but money was too tight most of the time. Now they can come whenever they want.”

Oh. That’s… actually kind of sweet. Huh.

To your surprise, he entertains more of your questions without a fight. Where does his family live? (Daegu.) Does he have any siblings? (An older brother.) Is the swing outside really handbuilt? (Yes.) Who built it? (Yoongi did.)

His answers are succinct, but at the very least you’ve got him talking. As he continues to strum his guitar, you decide to push your luck and switch topics, hoping he’ll continue to play along.

“What are you working on?”

Yoongi grins, meeting your eyes again. “I’m writing a song for you.”

Uh oh. 

He’s fucking with you, right?

All kinds of alarms are going off in your head, but still, you can’t help yourself. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. Listen.”

Without missing a beat, Yoongi starts playing the chords he’s been half-heartedly strumming since you sat down, this time in earnest. And then, his gravelly voice fills your ears as he sings the lyrics he has written down in front of him.

Well, it's ever so funny 'Cause I don't think you're special, I don't think you're cool You're just probably alright But under these lights you look beautiful And I'm struggling, I can't see through your fake tan Yeah, and you know it for a fact that everybody's eating out of your hands

But what do you know? Oh, you know nothing Yeah, but I'll still take you home

What. The. Fuck.

Is this why he’s been entertaining you this whole time? Was it all just a set-up for the most insulting punchline you’ve ever heard in your life?

He doesn’t even bother to suppress his laughter when you snatch his notebook and throw it clear across the room.

“You are such an asshole!” you shout, surging forward to push roughly at his chest.

“Come on, dollface,” he says, shoulders shaking with the force of his laughter. “It was funny.”

“The fuck it was,” you snap, scrambling to your feet. Fuck this. You can really say you’ve tried now, and you don’t think Jeongguk would blame you one bit for calling it quits after Yoongi’s little show.

You turn on your heel, ready to run upstairs and lock yourself in your room until the maknaes get home, when you feel a strong hand grab your elbow. You don’t know when Yoongi got up, but before you can react, you’re whirled around to face him with your back pressed against the banister.

“I knew you were boring, but I thought you’d at least have a sense of humor.”

“Fuck you,” you say through gritted teeth, jerking your elbow out of his grasp. He lets go easily, but for some reason, you don’t move. You don’t retreat up the stairs. Instead, you stand stock still as the both of you stare at each other, your chest rising and falling with your anger-fueled breaths.

Just like he had when he caught you staring yesterday, Yoongi raises an eyebrow at you. A challenge.

“What’s your problem with me?” you manage, unsure of what to do with the way he’s staring you down. Why is he so close to you? Why can’t you bring yourself to move away?

“Stupid question. I’ve been pretty clear about that.”

“No, seriously,” you snap, jabbing your index finger into the center of his chest. “You said you know more about me than I think. What do you know?”

Silence. Nothing but a stupid, amused smirk plastered on his face. Of course. If he wants you to play a guessing game, you will. Not knowing exactly what he’s holding over your head is driving you insane, and you can’t do it anymore.

“Do you know about the photos?” you ask, your voice weak now.

Yoongi blinks at you, bewildered.

“Huh?”

You let out the breath that you were holding. Thank fuck. Thank fuck. Okay, he doesn’t know. Holy shit, you’ve never felt so relieved.

Shaking your head, you soldier on, despite your overwhelming urge to throw up. Your mind wanders to the lyrics he sang to you just a few moments ago. I'll still take you home. Instead of the power bar you ate earlier, a sudden bark of a laugh escapes your throat, visibly startling Yoongi.

“Do you want to fuck me or something? Is that what this is about?” It’s your turn to be amused now, especially when Yoongi sputters and turns bright pink right in front of your eyes. “You’re jealous that Jeongguk got to me first?”

“The fuck? Are you insane?”

“If that’s not it, what the hell is it, Yoongi? What could I have possibly done to make you hate me so much?”

Huffing, Yoongi crosses his arms over his chest. It’s clear that he’s torn about whether or not he should lay all of his cards on the table right now, but you’re not giving him much of a choice. You’re so wired that you might strangle him if he decides to bite his tongue.

Finally, he speaks.

“I just happen to be pretty good friends with Yoo Kihyun.”

Just like that, your hard-earned upper hand disappears and your stomach drops to your goddamn ass.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

There’s a name you haven’t heard in a while.

It’s satisfying, seeing you falter. 

In fact, it makes Yoongi feel all the more justified in the way he feels about you. He’d started to doubt himself after his phone call with Namjoon last week, but if just the sound of Kihyun’s name makes you look like you’re about to shit your pants, he must be on the right track.

“I… Oh,” you say, dumbstruck.

Yeah, Yoongi’s fucking caught your ass.

“Good enough explanation for you?” he asks, smug. Rightfully so, too, he thinks. 

But then you’re grabbing him by the wrist, glancing around like someone’s going to fucking overhear you or something. Like it’s not just the two of you here. 

“Come here,” you hiss as you drag him to the nearest bedroom, which just so happens to be his, slamming the door shut behind you.

Yoongi watches with amusement as you pace around the room, but his patience is wearing thin. He has shit to do.

“If you have more of your stupid fucking questions, just ask them,” he snaps. “You’re wasting my time.”

“What did Kihyun say about me?”

Ah. Wouldn’t you like to know?

But he’ll tell you, only because he’s feeling nice. You’ve put him in a good mood.

“Mostly that you were a shit girlfriend,” Yoongi says, smirking at you as he shrugs.

“I—”

“Felt bad for the guy, honestly. I’ve known him for years, you know, and he’s had plenty of girlfriends. He’s a good looking guy. But I’d never seen him so fucked up over a girl until he started dating you.”

“Yoongi…”

“And then one day, he calls me out of the blue, right? It wasn’t the first time he’d complained to me about you, and I figured I was in for more of the same,” he says, leaning back against the door as you perch at the end of his bed, wobbly. “But he said something pretty interesting, actually.”

“What?” you ask. Your voice is shaky. Yoongi grins.

“He told me he thought you were using him,” he says. “You barely talked to him, never took interest in anything he liked. Hardly spent time with him.” He pauses, before adding, “unless there were cameras involved. It’s a reasonable conclusion to draw, don’t you think?”

When you remain silent, Yoongi’s more than happy to continue.

“I tell him he shouldn’t have to take that shit, you know? It’s not fair. He’s a really good guy. So he tells me he’s going to invite you over, at least give you a chance to explain yourself before he dumps you. He didn’t want it to be a big thing, wanted to end things quietly.”

You whimper at that, your head in your hands now.

“Next thing I know, I’m seeing headline after headline,” he says, tilting his head at you. “And less than twenty four hours later, you’re at an award show, putting on this pitiful act for sympathy.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say. Yoongi can’t help but laugh.

“I don’t think Kihyun was lying to me,” he says, matter-of-fact. “He’s not that type of guy. Everyone knows that. Admit it, you were using him. And now you’re doing the same thing to Jeongguk.”

When you look up, you have tears in your eyes. Yoongi’s gotta hand it to you, your acting is getting much better.

“I was a shit girlfriend,” you concede, sniffling. “But I wasn’t using Kihyun.”

Okay. He’ll bite.

“Why even bother dating him, then? You obviously didn’t like him that much.”

“I just—” you cut yourself off, taking a shaky breath. “He was nice. That’s hard to come by.”

“Too boring for you in the end, then?”

Yoongi expects you to snap at him, to get angry, but instead you let out a watery little laugh.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Hm. Okay. 

He’s not sure what to do with that.

“Look,” you say, wiping at your eyes as you stand up from his bed. “I don’t know how to convince you that you’re wrong about me, and I’m honestly sick of trying. You want to hate me? Fine. I hate you, too.”

At least they can agree on something, Yoongi thinks.

“But Jeongguk asked me to talk to you,” you add. “He’s hurting.”

God fucking dammit. Yeah, Yoongi noticed how fucked up Jeongguk looked when he finally came inside last night. Part of him was hoping that you two had gotten into it, that Jeongguk was about to buy you a one-way ticket back to Seoul.

But no. It was about him.

Fuck.

“Can’t we just pretend to get along? For his sake?” you ask. “Call a truce, at least as long as I’m here?”

Shit. You really care about him.

Yoongi’s still not convinced the relationship isn’t bullshit, but this doesn’t seem like acting. He thinks about what Namjoon said over the phone, about the idea of losing Jeongguk over something so stupid.

Pretending to get along with you while you’re in Jeju wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Not if it means he gets to keep Jeongguk. He can always have a heart-to-heart with the kid after you fly home.

With a sigh, Yoongi relents. “Fine. But I still don’t fucking trust you.”

“Whatever,” you mutter, holding out your hand for him to shake. Reluctantly, Yoongi takes it.

“Great,” he says, dropping your hand in an instant. “Can I go back to work now?”

“Do what you want,” you say, shoving past him to open his bedroom door. 

And then you’re gone.

★ ★ ★

Yoongi doesn’t see you for the rest of the day, but even as he works, you invade every single one of his thoughts. The songwriting streak he’d been on since last night comes to a grinding halt, leaving him with nothing to show for his day alone.

When the kids get back, rowdy and excited, Yoongi’s guitar is long forgotten as he lays across the couch. Lost in thought, he only lifts his head when Jeongguk makes a beeline straight for him.

“YN talked to you?” Jeongguk asks hopefully, and Yoongi’s heart clenches.

A truce.

Well, no better time than now to start.

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, forcing the corners of his mouth to lift up in what he hopes is a convincing smile. “Yeah, Guk-ah. We’re all good.”

Relief flashes over Jeongguk’s face, and for the first time since Yoojung Sikdang, Yoongi’s on the receiving end of one of his genuine, big grins. He feels bad lying to the kid, but it’s not like you’ve left him with much choice. And it feels good to be the recipient of one of those again.

Still, Yoongi can’t help but think about what you’d said earlier. 

Yoongi might’ve shown his hand, but in a way you did, too. The photos? What the fuck did you mean by that? Is there something out there that can point to your guilt, and all Yoongi has to do is go digging for it?

Not to mention your resigned agreement when he guessed Kihyun was too nice for you, too boring. Maybe he can’t use Kihyun against you like he thought he could, but the way you’d looked at Yoongi when he was setting up Jimin’s drums…

That he can use.

He’ll hold up his end of the truce, so long as you do the same. 

But you can’t blame him for wanting to know the truth.

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PREVIOUS CHAPTER ✧ MASTERLIST ✧ NEXT CHAPTER

[deatheaterv]

HUNG THE MOON

pairing : harry potter x fem!reader

genre : fluff

summary : harry potter secretly leaves you thoughtful gifts, too shy to approach.

the common room was quiet, save for the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. harry sat in the corner, fidgeting with a piece of parchment that he hadn’t written anything on. his heart thudded annoyingly loud in his chest as he glanced over to where you sat, curled up with a book on the couch.

you weren’t even doing anything extraordinary. just reading. but you had this way of existing that made it impossible for him to look away. he was sure if he tried to talk to you, he’d either trip over his words or worse, make you think he was some kind of idiot. so instead, he just sat there, thinking about how he could get closer to you without actually, you know, talking.

and then it hit him.

the next morning, a neatly wrapped package appeared at your usual spot in the great hall. it was small, tied with emerald green ribbon, and your name was scribbled on the tag in handwriting that was careful but a little crooked. inside was a tiny, enchanted quill that glowed softly when you wrote, perfect for late-night essays. no note, no explanation. just the gift.

you frowned, curious, but you liked it. it wasn’t every day someone left you something so thoughtful.

the gifts didn’t stop there.

the next day, there was a charm bracelet, each tiny trinket representing something from your favorite class. how they knew your favorite class was beyond you. the day after that, a soft scarf in your house colors that smelled faintly of cedarwood and something else comforting. each gift was small but meaningful, left without any indication of who was behind it.

you couldn’t help but smile every time you found one, though the mystery was driving you a little mad.

harry, meanwhile, was in shambles. he’d watch you from across the common room, his heart leaping every time you smiled at something he left for you. but he still couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

until one evening.

you were heading back to the dorms when you found him standing awkwardly near the stairs, his face redder than a howler.

“harry?” you tilted your head, stopping a few steps away.

he blinked, his green eyes wide as if he hadn’t expected to get caught. “uh—hi.”

you crossed your arms, the tiniest smirk playing on your lips. “so, are you going to tell me why i keep finding all these ridiculously perfect gifts or should i keep pretending i don’t know it’s you?”

his jaw dropped. “you knew?..”

“harry, you’re the only person in this house who stares at me like i’ve hung the moon,” you said softly, stepping closer. “i just couldn’t figure out why you didn’t want to talk to me.”

he looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. “i was scared. i didn’t think you’d… i mean, i didn’t want to bother you.”

you smiled, so warm and bright it made his stomach flip. “harry, you could never bother me. i think the gifts are sweet. but next time, maybe just… talk to me? i don’t bite.”

his cheeks turned impossibly red, but he nodded, a small, shy smile tugging at his lips. “okay. i can do that.”

and he did. eventually. but for now, you just stood there, smiling at each other like two complete fools, neither one in any rush to move.

[jakedustry]

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

bf!sunghoon x fem!reader

in which Sunghoon swears he will be back on time, that his friends aren't more important than you, so you believe him, and let him go out on New Year's Eve, refusing to be a controlling girlfriend who doesn't let him out of the house, but you regret it soon enough when you watch the fireworks set off by yourself because your boyfriend isn't home on time.

wc 1.3k

warnings reader is called controlling by his friends, broken promises, angst

↪ izzy adds... oops, we've got some angst here

event m.list

“Baby, I’ll be back in an hour max. I promise.” You sigh, looking into your boyfriend’s eyes. You hesitate, glancing at your phone to see the time. “Okay,” you mumble, even though you aren’t happy about it. You don’t want to control his life and forbid him from seeing his friends, but you also don’t want to be alone either. “I’ll just hang out with them for a bit and will be right back,” he assures you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. You smile, watching him take his jacket and with one last “I love you,” before the door shuts behind him. 

Sunghoon sits in the empty park, his friends around him, laughing over a memory of their trip from last year. Honestly, it felt great. He loved you, with his whole heart, and loved spending time with you, but it’s been so long since he got to hang out with his friends, he needed this. “You were so annoying back then,” Heeseung comments, and Sunghoon has to agree. Riki gasps, but ends up laughing too. “Well, at least I didn’t make it my whole personality having a girlfriend waiting for me at home,” the youngest alludes, making him roll his eyes. “That’s true,” Jake, his best friend, nods. “I thought I’d kill Sunghoon when he spent the whole night talking about her instead of going to sleep.” 

“You guys are just jealous I have a girlfriend unlike you.” 

“Yeah, and where did that get you?” A scoff leaves Jay’s lips, and it makes Sunghoon frown. What was that supposed to mean? “What? I know you guys are thinking the same thing,” he raises his head in defense when he notices all six pairs of eyes on him. “I mean…” Heeseung clears his throat. “You mean?” Sunghoon hisses, and it makes the two exchange a look he can’t read. Whatever the fuck was going on at the moment wasn’t to his liking at all. 

“Well, you know, it took you hours to convince her to let you out with us today,” Heeseung exaggerates. “Come on, guys, don’t be like that,” Jungwon tries to interrupt them before it can turn into a fight, but no one seems to be listening to him. “It’s been forever since we’ve seen each other.” 

“I was busy,” Hoon argues. “It’s not her fault.” 

There’s another look of exchange between the two eldest. 

“Guys, don’t,” Jake shakes his head too, but he has no luck either. 

“And that time when you took her to Sunoo’s birthday party with you and she made you leave early because some girl was apparently all over you?” 

“Well, she was all over him,” Sunoo joins, slowly shutting down again when he receives a glare from Heeseung. 

“Since when do you have a problem with my girlfriend?” Sunghoon asks confusedly, trying to make sense of the whole conversation. Neither of them ever mentioned anything about having something against you, so it didn’t make sense for them to start now. Sure, he had been spending more time with you than with them lately, but that wasn’t your fault.  “We don’t,” Jungwon assures him immediately. “They had too much to drink and don’t know what they are saying. Trust me, Hoon, we think she is great for you.” 

“Yeah, it’s annoying that we haven’t been out in so long, but that isn’t anyone’s fault,” Jake nods. “We’re glad you are here with us now,” he pats Sunghoon’s back in an attempt to calm him down. 

“Guys!” Riki interrupts them, regretting ever teasing him about it in the first place now that he sees what he caused. “You know what we should do? Play,” he says the first thing that comes to his mind, pointing at the empty basketball court ahead of them. Their eyes follow his finger immediately, and it takes no time for them to move. 

The smell of seven sweaty guys isn’t something anyone would adore. But it seems like no one pays any attention to it as they run around, laughing loudly at Riki’s failed attempt at scoring. It wouldn’t have been all that funny if he wasn’t so cocky about it before the ball left his hands. 

“Well, that’s embarrassing,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s because we’ve been playing for so long! I’m just tired,” he tries to excuse himself, but it only causes another wave of laughter to leave the boys’ mouths. 

“Okay, let’s take a break then,” Jungwon shakes his head at the youngest. 

Sunghoon sighs, running his fingers through his hair to get the sweaty strands off his forehead. “I’m never playing with you again,” he mumbles, frowning when the foul smell of sweat reaches his nose. 

“You’re saying that now,” Jake laughs, sitting down on the ground. “I’m glad we got to hang out today, guys,” he proclaims, looking up at the sky. It makes Sunghoon scoff. He is being too sentimental for no reason. 

“No, I agree,” Jungwon joins in, and it’s soon followed by agreement from all of them. “To another year together,” Heeseung laughs, raising his hand as if he were throwing a toast. The rest of the guys follow him, holding up fictional glasses to play along. 

“To another year together!” The seven voices echo through the park, and Sunghoon doesn’t think he could be happier at the moment. 

That is until his smile fades away as Sunoo starts counting down the seconds until midnight, and he realized just how much he has fucked up. 

“10…9…8…” Sunoo starts, the others slowly joining. But Sunghoon doesn’t. He’s screwed. He needs to get home in approximately…5 seconds. He squeezes his eyes shut, cursing himself out as he quickly looks around, trying to find the fastest way to your apartment. 

“Hoon, are you okay?” Jay asks, ignoring the count down and turning toward one of his friends instead. “I need to go home,” he answers, the desperation in his voice making Jay’s eyes widen. “My girl is waiting for me. Oh god, I should have been back hours ago,” he panics. 

The fireworks go off before Sunghoon can blink, and it feels like his whole world crumbles in front of him. 

“I– I have to go,” he only spares his friends a mere look, and before any of them can ask what’s going on, he is running away. 

“Baby–” Sunghoon’s voice breaks as he slams the door open and his eyes land on your figure. He regrets everything. 

You don’t turn around, keeping your eyes on the fireworks outside as you sit in front of your window, trying your best not to cry when you hear his voice. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes. You don’t move a bit then either. “Please, baby.” He sounds desperate. It’s obvious he knows damn well what he did wrong, but for some reason, that hurts you even more. Why would he stay out so late if he knew he would have to apologize when he came back? 

“Sunghoon, not now,” you mumble, keeping your back turned to him. You don’t want to—you can’t turn around. 

It feels like daggers are pushed into his chest when you finally speak up. “I think I’d prefer to be alone for a while.” No. No, no, no. He opens his mouth again, but closes it after an empty breath leaves his lips. He can’t leave you alone. Not now. “Please.” 

He knows it’s wrong, that he should run to you, hug you and never let go again. But your pleas make it impossible for him. So he turns around, one more apology leaving his mouth before he walks out, sliding to the ground right behind your door. 

He never meant for this to happen. He didn’t want to hurt you, especially not on New Year’s Eve when he knew how important it was for you. 

He sighs, resting his head on his knees. It’s not until he hears your muffled cry through the door that it hits him too. He fucked up so bad.

✧˖°. izzy's tags @beomiracles @adel222 @hwanghyunjinismybae @liaatiny @nxzz-skz @bamgeutsz @hmusunoo ✧˖°. want to get notified? join taglist here!

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 6

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

billy drives to westview again, I guess flying right now feels weird while he's so conflicted about his own witchy nature. and who boarded up agatha's door? were the neighbors afraid some other unspeakable horror was going to jump out of the house?

we get another good view of agatha's grave, with all the purple flowers and mushrooms rio grew for her

agnes' bike and señor scratchy's cage (I hope that fluffer bunny's okay somewhere)

NOT HELPING, AGATHA. did she just run down to the basement so she could do her 'it's britney bitch' face? (she does look like britney here)

sure, sure, you'll get your brooch back and then you'll be on your merry way doing ghostly shit with no regrets whatsoever. it's not like you've been following billy around like a lost puppy or anything

agatha sees billy drawing the circle and is all posture again, a big slice of "I'm cooler than you and you don't scare me little kid" with a side of "ooooh are we doing magic?? I love magic lemme see lemme see!"

she's truly embarrassing

you're the one with a buttload of black candles in your basement agatha who do you think you're mocking

a pentacle, the symbol of our coven surrounding him. wherever you are, a coven there shall be.

oooh book through the heart! we get it, symbolism.

agatha sees the brooch and gives a deep relieved sigh, immediately followed by more bullshit. JUST TELL HIM THAT'S YOUR SON'S BROOCH AND IT'S IMPORTANT, YOU USELESS DISASTER. JUST OPEN UP FOR ONCE.

the spell is vade (not valia) a lucem, relinque terram, noli esse phantasma. go to the light, leave the earth, don't be a ghost (bit on the nose.)

what's wrong agatha, not feeling so confident all of a sudden?

you know the drill by now, she won't go quietly. so she sneers.

ooh we're appealing to his better nature now? after your many 'never apologize for murder' lessons?

idk man, it's almost as if the people you keep pushing away will eventually get tired of your bullshit. it's almost as if billy here, the kid you supposedly care a lot about, just went through a terrible experience and could really need a wise mentor right now - instead of whatever you're doing.

and now we're begging. better make a decision there agatha, you're starting to fade away!

sure, that will help. great plan agatha, masterful gambit, turning into a ghost and losing even more of your agency

there you go. it only took this poor wretch nine episodes, killing three people, scaring away forever the love of her life, thoroughly traumatizing a kid and somehow losing her entire body to express ONE honest, uncensored feeling.

it's the little steps.

heartwarming: local 350 year old experiences for the first time the mortifying ordeal of being known.

another thing billy and agatha have in common is how good they are at reading people. with billy it's a natural talent (comes with being a mind reader) that he's still learning how to use, he can read people but doesn't know how to interpret what he finds yet, hence the whole trials fiasco.

with agatha, he's been trying to reconcile his instincts with facts and logic. on a surface level he shouldn't trust agatha at all, indeed she's the last person anyone should trust. but since he was that kid who liked hanging out at agnes' house, billy guessed something else in agatha, a vulnerability behind all the darkness that he's been (awkwardly) trying to bring to the surface.

why? I think it's for the same reason agatha has been reaching out to him: because they're so similar. billy wants to reconcile agatha's two natures because he wants to do the same for himself. he is the son of the witch who tortured westview, he has all this scary power. there is a darkness in him that he doesn't know how to deal with, but maybe, if agatha is redeemed, there is hope for himself too.

in other words, these two are kindred spirits (spiritual mother/son, mentor/mentee, whatever you want to call it) who recognize each other and instinctively want to stick to together, even though it's a bad, bad idea.

(I cannot believe it took agatha turning into a ghost to finally get a manicure for her nasty witchy nails)

and this is all it took to win billy over, that's how ready and eager he was to believe agatha has a heart! the moment he realizes that of course agatha loved nicholas! of course she's devastated after losing him! he steps back and dries a tear, moved. for the first time he sees agatha's pain and, the good kid he is, he's earnest to give her sympathy and comfort. he's still too young to fully understand what agatha has been trough, but he doesn't need to. he just needs to care and be there for her, and that's enough, that makes all the difference.

the salemites taught agatha that she cannot trust others, that if she shows who she really is people will hate her and hurt her. when nicky died she tried all she could to exorcise that devastating pain, except asking for help. she never allowed someone to give her even the most basic forms of comfort, no hugs, no crying on someone's shoulder, no 'I'm sorry this happened to you'. no 'I'm here for you, if you need anything'. no 'I know it feels like that, but I promise it wasn't your fault.'

agatha set out to mold and raise billy as another version of herself, but what she got instead is a kid who, just like nicky, is simply glad to love her back. yes, people will leave you if you keep pushing them away, but the opposite is also true: if you stick by and make an effort, no matter how many mistakes you make, most people will recognize what you're doing and respond in kind. it sucks that agatha can do that so rarely and with so much difficulty. but it happens sometimes, even to her.

I've talked about how a "coven two" is never sustainable on the long run, how you cannot just have one person be your whole world. humans, social animals we are, simply need a community. but for now it's a start, it's agatha cautiously letting herself be around another person again. and oh god she's going to be such a bad influence on this poor kid. I'm glad *he* has other people in his life, at least.

she's like, faIR WArNiNG

ookay drama llama. these two gays, I swear. already trying to outdrama each other.

she's all proud!! look at her boy paying homage to the dead and expressing his grief like a champ! meanwhile I'm sitting here like guys, guys, you cannot just write their names on the floor and call it a day, have you CHECKED if you have to break the news to their loved ones?! did sharon have children? did alice have friends or a partner that are looking for her right now?!?!!?!?! please make ONE phone call I beg you! is there an ADULTIER ADULT in the room, you CANNOT LEAVE THESE TWO IN CHARGE

and off they go, merrily causing chaos and mayhem. if I had to guess what happens next, agatha is going to love and help and teach that kid while making soooo many mistakes and causing soooo much emotional damage, and also very much try to manipulate him into giving her a new body, because lbr, this asshole didn't get herself close to the one person on earth who can do that by pure accident. all immaturity and ulterior motives aside, agatha is taking baby steps in the right direction and I'm SEATED for it.

AND WE'RE DONE. I cannot believe I got to the end of this?!!?! thank you from the bottom of my black heart to all the peeps who reached out and encouraged me, thank you for all your likes and reblogs and engagement, and special thanks to @idkbroletssee, @yodladi-yodlada, @aquaaquila, @onceuponalegendbg, @vinspiration-book, @sallysetonagathario, @2-the-moon-and-2-saturn, @yourlocalegotisticalqueerishere, @isagrimorie, @jojobobapalooza, @netellie, @nutella-icecream, @talysalankil, @ragnarockz, @misschanandlerbong25, @westviews-nosiest, @liminal-smith, @kendrysaneela, @whogirl42, @witchtwig, @nerdybeachbum299, @bogcrowe, @the-silence-in-between, @farminglesbian, @lazyreinelle @fantasticvoidnerdshoe, @ofutopia, I'm sure I'm forgetting many but I promise I see you all!

Last but not least, big, grateful thanks to @crybabyheathen for always messaging me and forcing me out of my shell and encouraging much needed human interaction 😉. And lots of love to @april-december, don't tell anyone but I look forward to your comments the most, it truly means the world that you appreciate and engage with my posts like you've been doing.

Happy new year, everybody!

[ivysprophecy]

good graces

warnings: (did i write this watching a nonsense christmas? maybe?) i dont think there is any, cursing?

word count: 1061

summary: jj thinks he needs a big gesture to apologize about the previous nights' events, but when he gets back youre just as anxious to make up for your mistakes.

prev. | next

masterlist

@bernardsbendystraws divider

jj's been gone an hour. i thought he was supposed to be back sooner than this?

ive been sitting in the chateau all day bouncing my leg nervously or pacing the house or throwing rocks into the water. anything to calm my nerves.

im drawing in the dirt when his bike finally pulls up to the house.

hes wearing a helmet? since when does he wear a helmet? ive been yelling at him to get one for months.

i watch as he swings his leg over the seat of his bike and takes off the helmet and shakes his head letting his hair fly free. he hates when it sticks to his ears.

then he finally sees me sitting on the poarch.

"what the hell are you doing out here?? go back inside!!" he runs up to me dropping his bag on the ground shooing me back into the house.

ive never been so shocked by something he's said before. literally jaw dropped.

"excuse me? jj im trying to talk to you- apologize to you! why are you acting like this??" i shove him back as he urges me through the screen door.

"mama you can apologize later im trying to set up your surprise youre gonna ruin it- get your cute ass inside-" he turns me back around and moves me through the door.

i let out a little chuckle with a hint of scoff "jj im still fucking mad at you- what the hell are you doing?"

"im fixing what i fucked up," he leans down and kisses me chastely before grinning, "now sit down on the couch and wait for my say so, pretty please."

"youre being awfully demanding for someone on thin fucking ice."

"it will be worth it mama i promise. please?"

okay im mad at him... but hes being really cute. i think that outweighs my guilt.

"fine... but im not waiting forever."

"it will only be a few minutes. i promise," he kisses me forehead after i sit on the couch and runs back out the front door leaving me dazed and confused.

what has this boy got up his sleeve?

after another ten minutes of nervously waiting in the house, scrolling through my phone, bouncing my leg, biting off my finger nails, i hear the sound of 'you are in love' by taylor swift blaring from a speaker outside.

and he KNOWS thats my favorite song from my favorite album.

THAT catches my attention, and im taking it as his clue to finally come outside.

when i finally make it onto the poarch i let out an audible gasp covering my mouth at the sight. this stupid amazing outrageous throughtful fucking idiot.

theres sea shells spelling out sorry on the lawn, and hes sitting there with my favorite flowers that grow from my secluded beach reading spot, a bag of my favorite breakfast foods, and two helmets for his bike. with both our intitals.

"im really fucking sorry mama... i didnt get a chance to explain myself- i swear id never do that to you. ever. i love you so much and i know how many doubts you had about us. and sarah said id probably need to reassure you and i dont really know how to do that so i just figured id do some kind of gesture and-"

i cut off his rambling but running up to him and wrapping my arms around him, probably suffocating him but i dont really care.

this is so fucking adorable.

"thank you... you didnt have to do all of this."

"what happened to being all pissy?" he looks down at me, doing a horrible job at hiding his smirk.

"shut up... im sorry i was being so crazy. i just saw that i freaked out, i wasnt thinking. im so sorry jay-"

he gently grabs my face, pressing a small kiss to my forehead, "i know... and i shouldve made it clearer what had happened and reassured you. im not good at this boyfriend stuff, but im trying. with sarahs help if were being honest."

"youre doing great jj... this whole gesture is so sweet and thoughtful. im sorry that im a crazy girlfriend who flies off the handle when the slightest thing goes wrong."

jj shrugs innocently, sitll having me in his arms, "i dont mind it. it was kinda hot."

"youre such a pig," i smile leaning up and pressing a gentle, loving kiss to his lips, "so... forgiven?"

"youre forgiven if i am."

"you already were."

i lean over and pick up the flowers hed set down so i could hug him, bringing them to my nose.

they have a faint salty smell of the ocean stuck on them, thats one of the reason i love them. that and wild flower bouquets are really freaking pretty.

"these are perfect... thank you jj- really. this is so perfect."

"im glad you like it mama... it was this or me begging on my knees for forgiveness."

"i wouldve loved either option," i joke. "and i promise i will do better to communicate more clearly," i press pause on the speaker so we can hear each other a little better.

jj sits me down on our hammock still holding me close to his side.

"i know you will, we both got shit to work through but were gonna be fine. im not givin up on you that easy."

"you put up with a lot from me."

"eh, its worth it all in the end. when we go to bed."

"god you are such a perv!" i bump him with my shoulder laughing. while hes laughing with me i find the back of breakfast food and stealthily take it from his side and start to snack on it. "god this is so good. youre an angel."

jj throws an arm around my shoulder pressing another kiss to my temple.

"eat up. im gonna clean this up before everyone gets back and makes fun of me. do you wanna keep the shells?"

i nod shoving a bite of hashbrowns in my mouth enthusiastically.

"alright then," he heads to the yard picking up all the shells and putting them in his backpack for me to keep. maybe ill make stuff out of them so we have them forever, to remember this.

like a picture frame or a coffee mug or something crafty.

[cyberhughes]

— 𝓣𝓸𝓸 𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ quinn hughes

🌊 prologue

next chapter

*:･✧* 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: quinn hughes x fem!oc

*:･✧* 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: injuries from falling off a bike, thats it :)

𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: OKAY NEW FIC ALERT?! i had sm fun writing this chapter it was super cute,,,happy reading pookies

series masterlist + character intros

“LET GO OF ME!” tiny hands gripped the car door, small screams echoing all the way down the street. “rory come on it’ll be okay!”

it was april, 2009 when the gray family had just arrived to their new home in toronto. aurora, the youngest daughter was being pried off of the car door by her older brother, ashton. being only 6 years old, moving across the country was possibly the worst thing that could happen to her after having established her own friends back in kelowna— that or having her cereal in the wrong coloured bowl.

“come on you’ll like it! your bedroom has a big window!” ashton looked around in embarrassment seeing if anyone on the street was witnessing his sisters freak out. ashton was 10, the age where he started to find small things embarrassing and tried to be cool. he also wasn’t the most thrilled about their move, but it was happening and there wasn’t anything they could do to stop it. which is why he was currently trying to yank his sister off of their car. who knew kids had such strong grips?

“just leave her, she’ll calm down.” their mother approached, smiling gently. she knew that the only way to get her out of a freak out like this was to just leave her alone and let her calm down herself.

ashton shrugged, throwing his hands in the air before following his mother into the house to check out his bedroom. aurora slumped onto the ground pouting, wiping a few tears from her face. she stared at her pink sparkly sketchers and sniffled.

as she stared at her shoes she saw another pair of blue sketchers walk up towards her. “go away ash.” she mumbled, trying to stop herself from crying again. “who’s ash?” she whipped her head up to look at who was speaking, having mistaken them for her brother.

it was a small boy, maybe around her age with blonde hair and brown eyes. “i’m luke!” he grinned, some candy or something stuck in one of his teeth. aurora didn’t say anything, and she just stared at him with a blank expression, tears dried on her cheeks. “what’s your name?” his smile never faltered.

aurora stood up off the ground, dusting off her blue corduroy pants. “i’m rory.” she wiped the tears off her face with her sleeve. he cocked his head to the side as he observed her expression. “why are you sad?” he stepped closer to examine her.

“i wanna go home.” she pouted, tears threatening to fall back down as she was reminded of her situation. luke’s eyes widened as he watched the girl begin to cry again.

“LUKE! what are you doing!” an older boy came jogging towards, with another small boy trailing behind him, jumping as he tried to put his shoes on.

“she’s crying.” luke pointed at aurora who was going back and forth from wiping her tears and chewing her sleeves in nervousness

“hey what’s wrong?” the eldest boy bent down to her height. she pouted and shook her head, not wanting to answer.

“you just moved here right? i’m quinn.” the boy smiled softly at her, not wanting to scare her away. “these are my younger brothers, jack and luke.” he motioned and the boys waved with big smiles on their faces.

“let’s be friends!” luke and jack jumped up and down and aurora let out a laugh at how silly they looked.

“oh i see a smile!” quinn teased and she laughed more, unable to fight her growing grin.

“what’s going on out here?” aurora’s mom stepped out of the house, hands rested on her hips as ashton followed behind.

“hi, i’m quinn and these are my younger brothers jack and luke.” the younger boys still jumping up and down, “RORY IS GONNA BE OUR NEW FRIEND!”

aurora’s mom turned to face her daughter, her little fists gripping the edge of her sweater with a grin on her face, and a gleam in her eyes to contrast the tears on her cheeks.

they’d be the best of friends.

“rory, be careful!” ashton called out as he eyed his sister’s dangerous activities, pausing his game of street hockey with quinn and jack to warn her.

it was fall of 2011, the street was painted with leaves of every shade of orange, and rory was currently riding on the front handle bars of luke’s bike, bursting into fits of giggles as they paced up and down the street.

“looks kinda fun actually…” jack mumbled, manoeuvring a ball with his stick back and forth and quinn gave him a stern look. “don’t you dare.”

“faster lukey!” aurora giggled, tightening her grip on the bike, “i’m going as fast as i can!” he laughed, trying the speed up but his legs were burning, he didn’t mind though. he just wanted to make her laugh.

as they headed back in the direction of their houses, a few leaves that were blown in the wind got caught in the bike chain, making it stop abruptly and flinging aurora off of the front.

the three boys playing hockey hadn’t noticed the accident until they heard her cries. “oh my god, ash get your mom!” quinn exclaimed, immediately dropping the stick and running towards the scene.

she was on the ground on her hands and knees, tears falling down onto the pavement. she didn’t move, the stinging on her skin far too intense.

“rory, i’m sorry!” luke hopped off the bike, and rushing to her side. “oh no…” his eyes widened as he saw the blood on the pavement, stomach dropping at the fact that he had hurt her.

“hey hey…” quinn approached, bending down to her level. she looked up through teary eyes and could see him in front of her, with jack and her brother running into the house in the far distance.

“can you stand up?” he asked softly and she shook her head, biting her lip. “it’s okay, your mom’s coming, kay?” he reassured and she nodded and her lips quivered.

“here, just try and sit down.” he helped her off of her hands and onto her butt, grimacing when he saw the wounds on her knees and palms. there were giant holes in the knees of her star printed pants, now soaked in blood.

“i’m so sorry rory!” luke said with a shaky voice, tears welling in his eyes as he observed her wounds. “s’ okay lukey.” she said quietly and went to wipe her tears but winced when her sleeves grazed the gash on her hand.

“just sit, you’re okay.” quinn motioned for her to stop moving, and reached his hand out to wipe away her tears for her, offering a soft smile as she leant into his hand.

it was 2011 when aurora first realized she had a crush on quinn hughes.

“rory go away please! go play with jack and luke!” aurora pouted at her brothers words. she had been standing outside her brothers door, knocking and knocking. he had a girl in there, his first ‘girlfriend’ at age 13 and aurora just wanted to meet her, not seeing many girls around the house often.

she huffed and crossed her arms. she had already walked over to the hughes’ house earlier, jack was at a friend’s house and luke was feeling under the weather and needed to rest.

she groaned in frustration, heading outside to play by herself. she grabbed a bucket of chalk on the way out from the garage, humming a taylor swift song.

she plopped onto the ground, beginning to decorate the driveway with her doodles.

quinn went to open his bedroom window for a breeze when he saw aurora sitting outside by herself. he felt guilty, he knew she had come by to see if his brothers could play, he had also received a snap from ashton, a girl visible in his room. he sighed and threw on a hoodie before heading next door.

“hey! need some company?” he asked, hands tucked in his pockets as he approached her, admiring her drawings. she shrugged in silence, continuing to trace lines.

“cool drawings, you’re talented rory.” he took a seat beside her and she blushed at his compliment, thanking him quietly.

he grabbed a piece of chalk before drawing alongside her. the pavement around aurora was filled with flowers and butterflies, meanwhile the space around quinn began to fill with hockey themed doodles.

aurora looked up at him, admiring his features as her heart beat quickened. she knew that he’d probably be anywhere else, what 13 year old boy wants to be outside coloring with a 9 year old? she liked the way his hair looked fluffier in the slight breeze, and the way his face concentrated on his drawings.

“quinny?” she interrupted his concentration and he looked up with a smile. she really admired that no matter how annoying she might seem, he never seemed to have a problem with it, and would always give her a smile.

“yeah?” he responded, placing the chalk down. she got nervous and looked back down, cheeks heating up.

“do you have a girlfriend?” his eyes widened at the question, then he chuckled. “no i don’t, that’s just your brother.” she nodded at his response, and went back to drawing. “do you have a crush then?” she didn’t look up when she asked her second question.

“no, i don’t have time for girls. if i did then i wouldn’t have time to hang out with my favourite pal.” he ruffled a hand through her hair and she squealed, swatting him away.

it was 2014 when aurora decided she would be the girl quinn hughes would wait for.

“what are you talking about?” aurora’s voice was barely above a whisper as she sat at the dinner table, dropping her cutlery onto the wooden surface.

it was 2016 when rory and ashton had found out they would be moving, again.

“i mean, we’re moving rory. i found another job—a better job in california.” her dad spoke, cutting into his steak, acting like it wasn’t a big deal that they were making such a big move.

“it’ll be okay rory-“ ashton tried to comfort his sister but she interrupted, standing up from her chair.

“no! it isn’t okay, it might be okay for you since it’s not long before you’re off to michigan with quinn anyways! i don’t want to restart again!” she protested. she could feel a lump forming in her throat and she tried to push down her tears.

“honey calm down.” her mother looked at her with a sad expression, understanding her daughter’s frustration for moving. before they had come toronto, she was a very shy kid, but since meeting the boys next door they helped to being her out of her shell.

not knowing what to say, aurora ran up to her bedroom, hearing her dad call out for her to come back, but she wouldn’t.

she slammed her bedroom door and plopped onto her bed. tears finally falling onto her pillow as her mind began to race. how could they make her move away from everything she knew? surely his job here was good enough, what could they possibly need more of? they had a nice house with nice neighbors.

her stomach dropped.

she’d have to leave the hughes. she’d have to leave her best friends, and the boy she liked.

she was envious of her brother. he would be joining quinn at the university of michigan, not for hockey but for soccer. he’d probably also be able to see luke and jack often as well, while she’d have to be stuck nearly 3000 miles away by herself.

it wasn’t fair.

“rory, the boys are outside ready to say goodbye.” aurora stood in the middle of her empty bedroom while her mom stood at the doorway.

she took one last look at the bedroom that was once filled with posters of taylor swift and one direction. it was here that she and luke and many sleepovers, watching movies that were definitely not age appropriate and giggling so loud that their parents had to tell them to be quiet. it was here where she had told her girlfriends about her scandalous crush on the older boy next door. it was here where she cried, when she found out that quinn had a girl over.

she nodded, and her mom placed a hand on her shoulder guiding her down the stairs and outside.

she saw her dad and jim loading some suitcases into their car, and ashton chatting with the hughes brothers.

“hey.” she approached, tucking her hands into her pockets.

“you’re lucky you get to move to california, think of all the waves you could surf.” jack said trying to lighten the mood and aurora laughed, “yeah except i don’t know how to surf, jack.”

she turned her eyes to luke and could feel the tears she was trying so hard to fight come up to the surface. luke tried to seem cool, but when they locked eyes he started to cry as well, the two joining into a tight embrace, not knowing when they’d see each other again.

“i’m gonna miss you a lot rory.” he sniffled as she cried into his chest. “i’m gonna miss you more lukey.”

the parents stood by the car, hearts melting at the display in front of them. “those two are breaking my heart.” ellen said, placing a hand over her chest and sighing.

a few minutes had passed by and their dad was calling out that it was time to go.

“bye jack, don’t cause too much trouble.” aurora teased, and he rolled his eyes pulling her into a hug. “i could say the same to you.”

she pulled away and faced quinn. he offered the same smile that she loved and her heart melted. she went in for a hug and lingered a little longer than she did with jack, but no one seemed to notice.

“hey, you’re gonna be okay.” he pulled away, keeping his hands on her shoulders as he looked down to her. “next time i see you, you’ll probably have these wacky braces out.” he laughed, poking her cheek and she swatted him away. he always knew how to make her smile when she was sad.

“shut up, you had braces too.” she rolled her eyes but still smiled. she looked over his shoulder to see her mom and ellen hugging, and her dad and jim exchanging a from handshake and it finally felt real.

what if she would never see them again? what if they would forget about her while they’re off playing hockey, following their dreams?

“i’ll miss you guys.” she said, wiping her tears before running to the car, her two braids flapping against her back.

ashton said his goodbyes and joined her in the back seat. they waited for their parents to finish their goodbyes before hopping in as well.

as they pulled out of the driveway, aurora turned around to look through the back window of the car. luke glanced towards his brothers before booking it, chasing after the car. the two other boys looking bewildered before chasing right behind him. “DON’T FORGET US!” she could hear luke yell and she giggled. she’d never forget them, not ever.

she’d never forget her best friend, luke.

she’d never forget her partner in crime, jack.

she’d never forget the first boy to steal her heart, quinn.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Waiting for Superman

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~600

Warnings: fluff

Summary: For decades, you’ve been coasting through life thinking you’ll never find “the one” until you take Spencer to a bookstore, and he manages to find something to pass the time.

Square Filled: waiting for superman by daughtry for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

Spencer loves books. He reads nearly twenty of them in a week. However, he is a fan of nonfiction, not fiction like you love. The new bookstore that just opened near your house only had fiction books stocked, nothing that would ever catch Spencer’s eyes. Still, he goes because it’s what you love.

Most people who know Spencer know that he is patient, calculating, thoughtful, and very friendly. That all gets thrown out the window when he comes to the bookstore with you. He’s like an impatient child who only comes along because he has to. He gets bored very easily since his big brain is always running away from him, so it takes a lot to keep him engaged. It’s why he’s so good at his job. His mind is constantly engaged by whatever unsub has made it to the briefing room.

Spencer huffs as he follows you around the bookstore, and you pick a romance book off the shelf.

“You know you didn't have to come with me.”

“I want to hang out with you, even if it means being in here.”

“How romantic,” you roll your eyes playfully.

“Are you almost done? I know of another bookstore that has books we’d both like.”

“Spencer, this one is closer, and we have to meet my parents for lunch. If we went to the other one, we wouldn’t get back until late.” Spencer leans against the bookshelf and is quiet for maybe five seconds. “Okay, how about you go to the cafe and get something to drink, yeah?”

Spencer grumbles but doesn’t answer you. You go back to reading the backs of books, pushing Spencer aside in your mind. He leaves your side to go find something else to do. If this is Spencer’s only flaw, then you consider yourself pretty lucky. You were at the point in your life where you thought you’d be alone forever.

Every date you went on, you weren't connecting to anyone. Either they were too boring, too stinky, too full of themselves, or they had their eyes on other girls. None of them were ever right until you met Spencer. He kept his attention on you every time you two were together, always put your first, and made sure to remember every detail you’d tell him about yourself.

Okay, that last one is his natural ability to remember everything, but he made a conscious decision to do it.

You spent what felt like a lifetime for someone like Spencer, so you’re not going to let him go that easily.

Over the next hour, you read and grab books that are interesting to you until you have a pile in your hands. You had just gotten paid and felt like spending a chunk of your paycheck on books. Knowing there is nothing for Spencer in here, you search for him in the small bookstore. He’s upstairs sitting in a book nook with half a dozen kids sitting around him. Their parents are near just watching Spencer read a book to them.

His eyes are wide, he does funny voices for the characters, and he engages each of the kids in the story he’s reading. You set your books down on a table and lean against it, content with watching him. Each kid is mesmerized and hooked to every word he’s saying, and the parents don’t mind the nice break from their children.

“What about the dragon? Who is going to slay it?” a child asks.

“Princess Annabelle is.” All the children gasp. “I know. Usually, the prince does but I think Princess Annabelle is tired of waiting for someone to do it for her. Let’s see how she does it.”

Spencer flips to the next page and continues to the story. He looks up and locks eyes with you, and you give him a slow-growing smile.

It’s right here and now that you’ve decided this is the man you’re going to marry. You’ve been waiting decades for your Superman to show up, and it’s been in front of your face the whole time.

x

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[creating--memories]

This is How it Went - part 2

---

Hey everyone, in honor of the win today, here is the second part to my series, let me know if you like it :) I tried to make this one a little bit longer. I also have been trying to add a song for each chapter that I feel like captures the feelings. Also I wrote part of this while watching the new Noah beck movie (it was so bad) 😭 so sorry for any typos. Enjoy!

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Part 2 - Oh my god, I think I'm in love with you

Word count: 1.8k

themes: angst, fluff

TW: none

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2020 crashed into Paige and Azzi’s lives like a wrecking ball. Paige’s senior year was abruptly cut short, and Azzi’s basketball career was put on indefinite pause. But neither of them was about to let that stop them from spending every moment they could together. Paige had been staying at the Fudd’s house for a few weeks, as they’d generously taken her in for the duration of quarantine.

Azzi lay sprawled on the couch, her legs propped up on the armrest. The cool leather clung to her thighs, offering some relief from the oppressive Virginia heat. Her face was buried in a book, oblivious to the chaos unfolding around her. Between Paige and the constant energy of her brothers, Azzi had gotten pretty good at tuning things out.

“Paige, Jose, NO!” Jon shouted, his voice full of mock desperation as he dashed down the stairs, Paige and Jose hot on his heels, Nerf water guns in hand. The three of them weaved through the furniture, taking turns spraying each other at every opportunity. 

Paige darted behind Azzi’s couch, hoping to use her best friend as a shield.

Peeking her head around the couch, Paige scanned the room for her attackers. Just as she did, Jon turned toward her, ready to take a shot. But Paige ducked back, leaving Azzi to take the brunt of the water instead.

“Hey! What the heck, Jon?” Azzi yelled, frustrated both by her now-soaked sweatpants and the interruption to her reading.

“Blame Paige! She’s the one hiding behind you like a human shield!” Jon shot back, grinning.

Azzi shot Paige a stern glare.

Paige pouted, shrugging her shoulders. “Sorry, Az, I was under attack!”

Azzi couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. For some reason, Paige had a way of making her crack, especially when those bright blue eyes of hers softened in that familiar, endearing way.

“Hey, you three! Take it outside, or knock it off!” Katie’s voice rang out from the kitchen.

“Yes, ma’am!” the trio chorused, before running out onto the deck.

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Azzi lay in her bed, propped up against the pillows, wrapped in her favorite pink, fluffy blanket. She was lost in her book when a familiar voice interrupted her peaceful reading.

“Azziiiiii!”  

“Azziiii!”  

“Azziiiiiiii!”

Azzi sighed, not bothering to look up. “Paige, please. I’m almost finished with this chapter.”

“But I’m bored!” Paige whined, poking her friend on the shoulder. “I want to do something fun.”

Azzi kept her gaze on her book. “Like what?”

“What if we dyed our hair?” Paige’s suggestion broke Azzi’s concentration, and she looked up to see Paige wiggling her eyebrows mischievously.

“You’re serious?” Azzi raised an eyebrow, half-laughing, half-incredulous.

“Yeah, why not? It’s not like anyone’s going to see us,” Paige shrugged.

Azzi smiled. “What the hell, sure.”

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Paige sat on the edge of Azzi’s bed, a purple-stained towel draped around her shoulders to protect her clothes from the dye running down her back. She opened up snapchat on her phone, turning her head side to side to admire her new look in the mirror. After snapping a few pics, she uploaded one to her private story: *“Purple Paige 👀💜”* then waited impatiently for Azzi to finish rinsing out her dye in the bathroom next door.

Suddenly, the door to the bedroom burst open, and Azzi stormed in, a trail of purple water dripping behind her. The only thing covering her was a towel wrapped around her chest. 

“Paige, my hair is a total flop!” she groaned.

Paige threw her head back and laughed. “Maybe it’ll look more purple when it dries?”

Azzi glared at her. “Ugh, this was a waste of time,” she muttered, turning to face her mirror, her back to Paige.

Paige’s breath hitched as her eyes drifted to Azzi’s bare back, streams of purple falling down from her curly hair, highlighting the curve of her shoulders. She felt a familiar warmth spread through her chest, her heart fluttering. She’s beautiful, Paige thought

Suddenly, hit with a pang of anxiety, Paige looked down at her hands and started to pick at the stitches on the pink comforter she sat on, trying to keep her eyes on anything but Azzi. Fuck, why am I thinking these things about her, she’s a girl, and she’s my best friend. Paige thought to herself.

“At least one of us had some success,” Paige said, her voice a little too sharp as she fiddled with the threads.

“Yeah, I guess,” Azzi muttered, slipping a black tank top over her head.

Azzi flopped down next to Paige, grinning. “Let’s call Colleen and show her our new look.”

Paige moved closer to Azzi as she pulled out her phone and dialed Colleen, relieved for the distraction. 

“Colleen, look, we’re purple!” Azzi exclaimed when her friend answered.

“Wow! I like the edgy look. Very mature,” Colleen teased, laughing as she watched the girls shake their hair dramatically.

“I wonder what Josh is gonna think when we go back to school,” Colleen added with a sly smile. “He’ll probably flip.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I don’t even like him like that.”

Paige’s stomach twisted. “Who’s Josh?” she asked, keeping her tone casual, though she could feel the jealousy rising in her chest.

“Just some guy in our grade,” Azzi shrugged, waving it off.

“Yeah, just some guy who has a HUGE crush on Azzi,” Colleen teased.

Paige’s heart sank. Of course he does she thought. Paige felt a lump rising in her throat. She tried to steady her voice and say something in response, but all she could muster out was a small “oh”.

Azzi brushed it off. “I don’t like him back, though.”

“Well, I think he’s cute,” Colleen chimed in before turning the conversation back to Paige. “So, Paige, any crushes you want to show your new purple look off to?”

Paige shifted uncomfortably on the bed, her fingers picking at the loose threads again. “Nope. No crushes for me.”

Azzi gave her a knowing look. “C’mon, there’s got to be someone.”

Paige’s voice was tight as she responded, “Really, Azzi. There’s no one.”

Colleen exchanged a glance with Azzi before turning back to Paige. “Not even Jalen?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Jalen? What? No. We’re just friends, seriously. He’s like a brother to me.”

“Oh c’mon Paige we’ve all seen the pictures of you two, there has to be something more there. I think you’d be cute together” Azzi pushed. 

Azzi’s words felt like daggers in Paige’s chest. She didn’t know why but she felt like her heart had just been stomped on. A panic started to rise in her throat as she blurted out a response to the girl. 

“I said no! We’re just friends, and I don’t want to be anything more. Now will you just drop it and get off my case Azzi?” Said Paige, her voice coming out more harsh than she had meant.

Azzi’s smile faltered, a confused expression crossing her face. “Sorry, didn’t know,” she muttered.

Sensing the tension, Colleen quickly ended the call. “I’m gonna go. I’ll call you later, Az.” She said as she offered her friend a comforting smile and hung up the FaceTime.

As the screen went black, the room fell silent. Paige wanted to apologize, to explain herself, but the words stuck in her throat. She couldn’t bring herself to meet Azzi’s eyes.

“I’m gonna go downstairs,” Azzi said quietly, standing up. “See you in a bit for dinner?”

Paige offered a small nod in response as the curly haired girl gave her shoulder a small squeeze and walked out of the bedroom. 

As the bedroom door shut, Paige held her breath, trying anything to stop the tears that welled in the corners of her eyes from falling onto the sheets below her.

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Later that night, the two girls lay side by side in Azzi’s bed—Paige on her back, Azzi curled up facing the wall. Paige’s mind raced, her fingers tapping nervously against her chest.

“Azzi?” she whispered into the dark.

“Yeah?” Azzi’s voice was soft, almost hesitant.

“Are you awake?” Paige asked.

“No,” Azzi murmured, shifting slightly to face her.

Paige let out a small, nervous chuckle. 

“I’m sorry for snapping earlier.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for pushing you,” Azzi said quietly.

A small wave of relief washed over Paige, and she smiled, grateful for the understanding. 

“Azzi?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever had a crush on a boy?”

Azzi hesitated, thinking for a moment. “Yeah. I think so.”

“How do you know?” Paige asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Azzi shrugged a little. “It’s like… a feeling. Butterflies in your stomach, warmth in your chest. I think when it happens, you just know.”

Paige stayed quiet, turning onto her side to face Azzi, her eyes searching her friend’s face.

The two girls laid there for a few moments, looking into each other’s eyes their view not quite completely drowned out by the darkness of the night.

“Do you think someone could feel that way about a girl?” Paige’s voice shook slightly.

Azzi thought for a moment, letting the unanswered question linger in the air. “I’m not sure. But I don’t see why not.”

Paige nodded slowly, her heart pounding in her chest. 

Azzi reached out, her fingers hovering as if asking permission. Paige reached back, their hands intertwining. The room seemed to hold its breath as their eyes locked, and Azzi’s soft smile made Paige’s heart race. 

They lay there for a moment, fingers linked, the quiet night between them filled only with their breaths. Paige shifted her head forward, her lips hovering. Azzi closed her eyes, as if an invitation for Paige to close the gap between them. Their lips touched softly, a warm feeling washing over both of the girls. 

Paige shakily untangled her fingers from Azzi’s and placed her hand on her cheek. Azzi brought her hand to meet Paige’s waist, her pinky brushing against the bare skin between Paige’s sweatpants and T-shirt, sending a shiver up her body and pulling the other girl deeper into the kiss. 

As both girls finally pulled away from eachother, their cheeks flush from the kiss, Paige let out a small sigh. Azzi laid her head back down onto Paige’s chest, pulling the comforter over both of them and closed her eyes. 

“Azzi?” Whispered Paige 

“Yeah?” She answered softly.

“Goodnight” 

“Goodnight Paige.”

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

Not Your Average Blonde

𝜗𝜚 welcome to harvard y/n! 𓊈chapter 3𓊉

warnings: +18 Minors Do Not Interact +18 use of mature language, mentioning of alcohol (there aren’t too many tags in this chapter.)

a little note: the drama is escalating, and we’ll be seeing more of higuruma. btw, since this smau series was inspired by the movie legally blonde, i wanted to include some scenes similar to it. don’t ask why the reader was in a playboi carti music video… i just felt like doing it because i was listening to him while working on this chapter. enjoy reading!

← previous chapter┊next chapter → 「series masterlist」

December 17th

Claire's Instagram Story On December 17

March 15th

𝜗𝜚 For those wondering about Gojo's LSAT score, it’s 140.

𝜗𝜚 After leaving Y/N on read, Gojo calls her and accuses her of lying about her results, leading to an argument. At the same time, he refuses to share his own score with Y/N.

𝜗𝜚 When Claire arrives at Y/N’s house, she starts making plans to kill Gojo.

𝜗𝜚 Higuruma is genuinely impressed by Y/N’s accomplishments and what the professors have said about her, regardless of the field she studied. He believes she’ll bring something unique to the otherwise dull world of law.

𝜗𝜚 On the other hand, Nanami, after reading Higuruma’s message, thinks this girl is completely insane. In his opinion, girls like Y/N are nothing more than dumb blondes.

𝜗𝜚 Fun fact: Miu Miu gifted Y/N a custom pair of high heels as a thank-you for the design she created for them.

𝜗𝜚 Another fun fact: Playboi Carti tried to hit on Y/N during a music video shoot lol.

𝜗𝜚 During Higuruma and Nanami’s conversations, the admission results hadn’t been announced yet. The committee had only decided who would be accepted or rejected.

taglist: @anonnieghost @alpha-mommy69 @ourfinalisation

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

dividers by @fairytopea @enchanthings-a

[guiltyc0nscience]

⟡ ݁₊ . introducing fratboy!chris

࿐frat!boychris is the life of the party. lives in boston massachusetts with his brothers—matt and nick—but spends most of his time at the fraternity house or around campus. a loud, confident, and extroverted personality who thrives in chaotic social settings. loves parties more than anything. you'll mostly catch him with a joint hanging from his mouth. listens to travis scott, drake, tyler, the creator, playboi carti, and house music. drinks more energy drinks than water. always has a cap on (mostly backwards,) and his silver chain.

⟡ ݁₊ . introducing loser!reader

࿐loser!reader is an introvert to her core. quiet and shy. prefers staying home over going out. loves lipgloss and the colour pink. spends most of her time reading, studying, or rewatching her favourite shows. awkward in big crowds and always avoids the spotlight. loves artic monkeys, lana del rey, phoebe bridgers, harry styles, and mac miller. drinks iced-coffee all year round. finds comfort in over-sized hoodies, sneakers, and her favourite books. would rather have a deep conversation with one person than try to impress a room full of people. has a small circle of close friends.

it wasn't your kind of night. parties like this never were.

the frat house was alive, pulsing with bass-heavy music and the chaotic energy of too many people crammed into one space. you had come reluctantly, dragged by a friend who insisted that "getting out would be good for you." now you stood awkwardly in the corner of the kitchen, gripping a half-empty cup of something that smelled too strong and tasted worse. you tried to look busy--pretending to text, adjusting your sweater--anything to avoid eye contact.

chris noticed you almost immediately. not because you stood out, but because you didn't. in a room full of girls trying to throw themselves at guys and loud laughter, you were quiet, kept to yourself, your eyes flitting nervously as if you were desperate to shrink into the shadows. it was a contrast he couldn't ignore.

he walked over, his easy confidence radiating even as he leaned against the counter beside you. "you don't look like you're having fun," he said, his voice loud enough to cut through the noise but tinged with a teasing grin.

your head snapped up, startled. you hadn't expected anyone to talk to you--least of all him. his red backwards cap, red solo cup and silver chain practically screamed frat boy, and the way he held himself made it clear he knew how to own a room. you glanced at him, then quickly looked away, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

"i'm fine," you mumbled, your voice barely audible over the music.

chris raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "yeah? because standing in the corner looking miserable doesn't really scream 'fine' to me."

you bit your lip, unsure how to respond. part of you wanted to brush him off, but the other part--the part that noticed how his smile didn't feel as cocky as you'd expected--kept you rooted in place.

"not really my scene," you admitted softly, your fingers tightening around your cup.

"well," he said, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, "lucky for you, it's my kind of thing. stick with me, and i'll show you how to survive it."

you rolled your eyes softly, but when he didn't leave--and when his teasing grin softened into something almost genuine--you couldn't help but let a small smile slip, even though your nerves were sky-rocketing. maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad after all.