#so i'm proud that emotions come through in my writing!
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coffeebanana · 2 years ago
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Sorry if some of these overlap a little/if I left out something obvious kajbdsjkd I tried my best haha. And that's why there's an "other" option!
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wingsofhcpe · 8 months ago
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thinking about the garrison getting the news of the Savoy massacre.
thinking about Treville reading the missive and feeling the earth dissolve into air under his feet, realising that by giving away the location he doomed his men to the slaughter.
thinking about him having to tell Athos and Porthos.
thinking about Athos going into shock because God, no, not again, he can't have lost his little brother again like he lost Thomas.
thinking about Porthos going into absolute rage- and grief-filled denial and insisting that they leave right now because Aramis is okay, he has to be, he can't have abandoned them, he can't have left them not like Porthos' mother did.
thinking about Athos trying to cope by slipping into professional soldier mode, detached, emotionless and trying to prepare Porthos for what they'll find.
thinking about them seeing the bodies and knowing their brother, their Aramis, is lying dead among the other corpses. And then they find him, and Porthos yells that he's alive and suddenly Athos is crumpling because Aramis is safe he's safe he didn't lose another brother. Treville scoops up Aramis in his arms and holds him tight for a moment, just one, because Aramis is his salvation too, his survivor, the only of his men who came back alive and thus not all is lost, and Treville vows never to let Aramis suffer again as he did that day.
thinking about Athos and Porthos holding Aramis between them, wrapping him and themselves in blankets to share their body heat and warm him. Aramis waking up and asking for Marsac but then realising Athos and Porthos are here and he breaks, crying and sobbing and begging them not to leave him in the cold all alone with the dead, too. And that is when the three of them vow, All for one and one for all, that it's either all three of them together or not at all. Nobody gets left behind.
thinking about Savoy and brotherhood and the boys just clinging to each other no matter what, because even when all seems lost, they're still the Inseparables, and that will always mean something.
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vanteguccir · 3 months ago
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── ୨୧ ! 𝗘𝗚𝗚𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗚𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗬
         𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader
SUMMARY: Where Matt uses his loss on the egg challenge as an excuse to reveal Y/N's pregnancy to his brothers.
WARNING: Pregnancy, crying.
REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
A/N²: I've decided to post it today since it's Father's Day on Brazil! Unfortunately, I had to write it in a rush, so I'm sorry if it's not that good ;(
   ༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Matt, Nick, and Chris had spent the morning engaged in their latest YouTube challenge; a seemingly simple task of caring for an egg as if it were their own child. What had started as a lighthearted competition quickly turned into something more meaningful, though none of them knew it yet.
Nick leaned back in his chair, his arms folded behind his head, exuding confidence as he glanced at the table. His egg sat intact in front of him, a proud reminder of his victory. He smirked at Matt, who sat across from him, his egg conspicuously absent, the pieces of it having already been swept into the trash.
"Well, Matt, it looks like you lost." Nick teased, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. His grin widened, knowing exactly how to get under his brother's skin.
Chris, sitting at the other end of the table, tried to suppress his laughter but failed, the sound escaping as a snort. He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Seriously, dude, how did you even have the courage to throw your egg after knowing that it was already cracked?"
But instead of a witty comeback or a defensive retort, Matt remained silent. His usually quick tongue was stilled, and his shoulders slumped slightly as he stared at the table in front of him. His brothers’ laughter echoed around the kitchen, but Matt seemed miles away.
From her spot by the kitchen counter, Y/N observed the scene unfold, her smile soft and her eyes filled with affection as she watched the brothers banter. She had always loved these moments, the way they could turn the simplest tasks into something fun and full of life. But today, something was different. Matt wasn’t joining in the laughter, and the silence coming from him made her heart tighten with concern.
Matt’s eyes met Y/N’s across the room, and for a brief moment, everything else faded away. Her smile faltered, replaced by a look of curiosity and worry as she noticed the unspoken emotion in his gaze. It wasn’t defeat or frustration over the challenge; it was something deeper, something that made her heart skip a beat. What was he thinking? What was he hiding?
Nick’s voice cut through the tension, snapping Matt out of his thoughts.
"Come on, Matt, admit it. You’re just not cut out for fatherhood." Nick joked, his tone light but teasing.
Chris chimed in, leaning back in his chair with a playful grin.
"Yeah, maybe it’s a good thing you’re not a dad yet."
The words, meant in jest, struck Matt like a physical blow. He inhaled sharply, his gaze flickering to Y/N once more, and this time, her eyes widened in realization. Her hand instinctively moved to her stomach, a small, unconscious gesture that Matt had seen her do countless times since they discovered the news. It was a habit she had developed; whenever she felt nervous, excited, or overwhelmed, her hand would rest there, a protective touch that spoke of the new life growing inside her.
Matt took a deep breath, turning his gaze back to his brothers.
"My egg 'broke,' so technically, I lost-" Matt began, his voice quiet, almost detached as he tried to find the right words.
Nick interrupted him, raising an eyebrow in confusion as he imitated Matt’s air quotes.
"'Broke'? Motherfucker, it broke." His voice was full of bewilderment, unsure of why Matt was choosing to word it that way.
But Matt wasn’t paying attention to Nick’s teasing anymore. He pushed back his chair and stood up, the scraping of the legs against the floor breaking the comfortable rhythm of the morning. All eyes were on him as he walked over to the counter, where Y/N stood, her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him. He leaned against the counter, positioning himself next to her, his hand brushing against hers in a silent exchange of comfort and support.
Nick and Chris exchanged puzzled glances, the playful atmosphere from moments ago now replaced with a sense of anticipation. Matt was rarely this serious, especially during their videos, and the change in his demeanor left them both on edge.
"What’s going on, Matt?" Chris asked, his voice steady but laced with curiosity, his arms crossing over his chest as he studied his brother.
Matt took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He and Y/N had talked about how to break the news to Nick and Chris for days. They had planned it out, imagined different scenarios, and rehearsed how it might go. But now, standing here in the kitchen with the camera still rolling, Matt realized that all those plans didn’t matter. There was no perfect way to tell them; there was only the truth.
"I didn’t lose." Matt said, his voice stronger now, filled with emotion that he could no longer hide. He took a step closer to Y/N, his hand finding hers and squeezing it gently. His eyes never left his brothers as he spoke. "My baby is safe and sound... right in the oven."
The words hung in the air for a moment, the meaning not immediately sinking in for Nick and Chris. They blinked, their expressions mirroring each other’s confusion as they tried to make sense of what Matt had just said.
"The oven?" Nick repeated, glancing around the kitchen. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
Chris frowned, his gaze following Nick’s to the actual oven, which was clearly off.
"Matt, what are you-"
But before Chris could finish, Matt shook his head and smiled softly, a smile that held all the love and anticipation he had been carrying for weeks. He gently guided Y/N’s hand to her stomach, the gesture so tender and full of meaning that it spoke louder than any words ever could.
"The oven," Matt repeated, his voice a whisper now, thick with emotion. "Right here."
It was as if time stopped. Nick and Chris froze, their eyes widening in sync as the realization finally hit them. The weight of Matt’s words, the significance of the gesture; it all came crashing down on them at once.
"Wait... are you saying...?" Nick’s voice trailed off, the disbelief evident in every syllable.
Y/N looked up at Matt, her eyes shining with tears that she had been holding back for days. She nodded, her voice trembling with joy and nerves as she finally let the words out, the truth she had been dying to share.
"We’re pregnant." She whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. "I’m pregnant."
For a heartbeat, the kitchen was silent. The camera continued to record, capturing every second of the moment that would change their lives forever.
And then, all at once, the emotions erupted.
Chris was the first to react. His eyes filled with tears that spilled over the rims, his face a mix of shock, joy, and overwhelming love. He stood up so abruptly that his chair almost fell, forgotten as he crossed the room in two long strides. Without a word, he pulled Matt and Y/N into a tight embrace, his arms encircling them both as he buried his face in Matt’s shoulder, his body trembling with sobs.
"Oh my God." Chris whispered, his voice cracking with the force of his emotions. "I can’t believe it. You’re going to be a dad, Matt. And Y/N... you’re going to be a mom."
Y/N found herself laughing through her own tears, the sound mixing with her soft sobs as she wrapped her arms around Chris, resting her head against his. She could feel Matt’s warm hand on her back, holding her close, grounding her in the moment.
"We were going to tell you guys differently, but..." Y/N’s voice faltered, the words catching in her throat as she tried to speak. Her lip quivered as she bit down on it, trying to hold back the fresh wave of tears that threatened to spill over.
Nick, who had been frozen in shock, finally seemed to snap out of it. He looked at Matt, then at Y/N, and back to Matt again, as if needing to confirm that this was real. His eyes were wide, his jaw slack, but then, slowly, a wide, joyous grin spread across his face.
"Holy shit!" Nick exclaimed, his voice full of excitement as he jumped up from his chair, his movements so sudden that it clattered to the floor. He didn’t care. All he could focus on was the fact that his brother was going to be a father. That they were going to be uncles.
Nick rushed over to join the group hug, wrapping his arms around the three of them and squeezing as hard as he could, his voice cracking with the intensity of his emotions.
"This is insane! I can’t believe we’re going to be uncles. Oh my God, Chris, we’re going to be uncles!"
Chris pulled back just enough to look at Nick, their faces mirroring the same shock and joy.
"Yes, you are." Y/N whispered, her voice filled with warmth and love. "You and Chris are going to be the best uncles in the world."
Matt couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. He let them fall freely as he wrapped his arms around his brothers, holding them tight, feeling a surge of love and gratitude that left him breathless. This wasn’t the way they had planned it, but it felt right. It felt perfect. He could feel Chris’s shoulders shaking as he cried, and when he finally pulled back to look at his brothers, he saw the same tears in Nick’s eyes.
Chris wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, a huge, teary grin spreading across his face.
"You sneaky bastards." He said, his voice still thick with his crying. "You kept this from us!"
"We wanted to surprise you." Matt said, finally finding her voice again, though it was still shaky with laughter and tears. "But I just couldn’t wait."
Nick looked at him, his grin turning mischievous.
"So, technically, you didn’t lose the challenge, huh?"
Matt chuckled, shrugging as he looked at the Y/N glued to his side.
"Nope, I didn’t lose. I think I actually won something even better."
Chris wiped at his eyes again, sniffling as he looked at Y/N, his expression soft and full of love.
"You two are going to be amazing parents. This little one is so lucky to have you."
Y/N reached out and took Chris’s hand, squeezing it tightly as she smiled through her tears.
"Thank you, Chris. That means the world to us."
Nick clapped his hands together, the grin never leaving his face.
"Well, I guess this calls for a celebration, huh? Let’s order some food and make this the best day ever."
They all agreed, the room filling with the sound of their joy, and as they gathered around the kitchen table, Matt couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man in the world.
He looked at Y/N, who was beaming at him, her eyes still sparkling with tears, and ge couldn’t help but think that this was the best video they’d ever made; not because of the challenge, but because it captured a moment that would change their lives forever.
     ༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
Extra - comments
"this has to be the best twist ever 😭😭 I was NOT expecting Matt to drop that bombshell at ALLLL"
"omg, they're going to be such amazing parents 🥺"
"chris’s reaction had me in TEARS!!! the way he just broke down crying when he realized he’s going to be an uncle… this is why I love them so much, they're so genuine 😞"
"nick’s face when he finally understood what matt meant by ‘the oven’ LMAOOO"
"FUCK NO, I was laughing so hard during the egg challenge, and then I ended up crying when matt revealed Y/N is pregnant 🤧"
"matt is going to be the greatest dad out there, I just know it 🙏🏻"
"who cares about a fucking broken egg when you’ve got a real baby on the way 😩"
"when matt said the baby was in the oven, I thought he was joking about the egg, I did NOT see that coming 🤡"
"please guys, let me in the group hug 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻"
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taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @earth2starkey @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @junnniiieee07 @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @soso-scarlettolivia @bitchydragonparadise @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @somegirlfromasgard @hpyjw @colorthecosmos444 @thewhispersofthewaves @mattslolita @imwetforyourmom @mrl217 @sturnsmia @mattsfavbitchhh @sturnioloshacker @soursturniolo @blahbel668 @sarosfilms @moncherriis @tobesolonelyjess @zainabthescientist @littlemisswhore
(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)
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baby-yongbok · 6 months ago
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𝘗𝘪𝘯𝘬 + 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦
Hwang Hyunjin 𝗑 Afab!Reader
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♡ Genre - Friends to Lovers
♡ CW - Explicit Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Nightmares, Alcohol usage by reader, Hyunjin calls reader rose as a nickname, One use of 'y/n'.
♡ Summary - Your avoidant tendencies have allowed the burn of pink and white to keep you Hyunjin at a safe distance until it all comes crashing down. Can the fire that kept you apart also be what brings you together?
♡ Word Count - 9.2k
♡ A/N - I went from not being sure if I liked this fic to being in love with it. I think that it's a very sweet fic and I loved writing it. I worked so hard on it and I'm so proud of it. The goal was for it to be 4k words.. then I almost posted it at 8k but now... yeah. I hope that you love this as much as I do!
♡ Playlist - Pink + White - Frank Ocean, Rainy Days - V, For Us - V, Beautiful Things - Benson Boone, Trajectories - Bruno Major
✧ Masterlist ✧
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When you were six years old you punched a boy in the face on the playground. That was the first time that you ever felt the burn of genuine fear.
Your mom along with the many others came swirling around them. When your mother asked you what happened you cried. You clung to her running over to you and the crying brunette boy on the playground with a mix of emotions and explained the best you could through your tears that you didn’t like that he was chasing you, when you agreed to play tag you thought that you’d be the chaser not the one being chased.
That was the day that you learned two things about yourself, you have a habit of acting impulsively when you’re scared and you don’t like being chased. It's suffocating.
As you got older your friends described you as the avoidant type, especially in relationships. You developed a reputation for being an ice queen in your Sophomore year of university which led to you being one of the most sought after girls on campus. 
You’ve lost friends because of this. Their boyfriends saw getting close to them as a gateway to meeting you. Many guys took dating you as a challenge with an end prize of overnight popularity. Unfortunately, some of your closest relationships have been destroyed because of it. You learned not to be sad about it, you’ve come to terms with it, this is just the way that it goes. Of course your other friends were all important to you but you always told yourself that you’re alright with losing them as long as you have your best friend by your side. 
“More roses? Are you in love or something?” You weaved through the cluttered art studio that Hyunjin has claimed as his own. It’s on the dead side of campus on the second floor of a building that was abandoned last year. Your best friend refused to let the studio go when it was shut down, he says that it houses some of his fondest memories. 
“Always in love, never loved back.” He quips, eyes still trained on the canvas. “You’re early.”
You jump up onto one of the few clear desks in the room, right behind his easel. “Chemistry ended early.” Hyunjin stands straight, eyeing his canvas for a second before looking over at you. He knows that you’re skipping class. Your last hook-up is in that class and you're trying to avoid his attempt at getting you in his bed again. If you’re being honest, the decision to sleep with him was impulsive. You blame the beer, all eight of them.
“I thought that we could go to the exhibition early.�� He starts another brush stroke and silence swallows you both. “I’m excited about it and if I’m being honest I just wanna spend time with you. I’ve barely seen you for the past three days.”
Hyunjin’s steady hand wavers and he thanks his lucky stars that you didn’t see it. “Aw she misses me. She loves me so much.” The sound of your feet hitting the ground as you jump off of the desk echoes through the dusty room of stacked chairs and forgotten storage items. 
Hyunjin stands and dips the paint brush covered in bright pink in the cup of water next to him. “You could’ve come to my place ya know.” You grab your stuff, swinging your bag onto your shoulder. 
“Your brother is there, you know how he gets.” You scrunch your face at the thought of Hyunjin’s step brother, Jeongin. The two of you get along perfectly, almost as well as you and Hyunjin until Jeongin starts flirting. He confessed to you on New Years and you’ve been avoiding him ever since. He’s too sweet for you, you’d hate to hurt him. “I’m gonna go change, I’ll meet you by your car.”
“You brought a costume change for an art exhibit?” He asks as he starts cleaning his space.
“Of course, I need to look like art too.” You smile at him but he doesn’t smile back, he rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the mess of paints and rags on the desk in front of him. He waits until he hears the door open and close behind you to finally let the corners of his mouth turn up. He chuckles to himself quietly while his mind comes up with responses that he’d never dare to utter out loud.
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“This one looks like you, rose.” The year old nickname slips off of Hyunjin’s tongue like silk. You’ve never fully understood how the name stuck. You figured that it’s because roses are his favorite flower and he thought it was cute. You’ve never asked for its origin but you don’t mind the name. It’s sweet.
You turn to view the series of pink, white and green dots making up a bouquet of roses on the framed canvas in front of Hyunjin. He studies it with smiling eyes though the neutral look on his face could fool those who haven’t experienced him like you have.
“It’s pretty.” You mumble as you lean your head on his shoulder. You wrap your arm around his and the sleeve of the brown oversized flannel shirt that you picked out a year ago rides up his forearm a bit, he blames the chills running up his spine on the breeze against the newly exposed skin. 
“I knew I’d see you here.” The voice of a woman next to Hyunjin startles you a bit. You stand straight and watch as Hyunjin smiles towards her. He’s cursing her in his head for interrupting the moment between the two of you but he learned a long time ago to just live in the moment when it comes to you.
“Of course, I had to see this exhibition.” He shakes her hand and you chalk it up to her being someone important though she doesn’t look much older than either of you. “You put it together beautifully.”
Ah, she owns the gallery. “Oh, please, it’s nothing. I just hope that you’re enjoying it. I actually thought about you when I put this piece up.” She motions towards the art in front of the two of you. The piece that Hyunjin says resembles you. “It looks like something you’d design. I’m still desperate to organize a local exhibition for you, ya know.”
Hyunjin laughs but it's stiff and polite. He’s being shy. He’s a very cautious person but he reaches a whole new level when it comes to his art. “I’m not quite on that level yet.”
“I disagree but I won’t bother you about it until you graduate. This is your final semester, right?” You can see her eyes smiling just like Hyunjin’s were a second ago as she checks him out. She’s shameless in her actions, the glint in her eyes is far from professional. 
“Yes, just three months to go.” She nods, dragging her gaze up from his lips with a smile. 
“Call me when you graduate, I’d love to have you working with us.” She pulls a business card out of her pocket and flashes one last smile before waving a reluctant goodbye towards your best friend. 
Silence settles between the two of you for just a couple of seconds before you break it. “She wants to fuck you so badly that she didn’t even look at me.” Hyunjin scoffs at your whispered words as he slips the card into his pocket. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t notice. How old is she anyway? She looks a bit young to be in charge of this place.”
“Her father owns it.” He mumbles as he grabs your wrist and leads you over to the next piece of art. 
“Oh, of course. She probably thought I was your girlfriend, ya know. She’s rude as hell for not even asking or looking at me. I know she saw me here, she’s clearly -” You’re pulled into Hyunjin’s side before you can finish your sentence. The sudden action cuts you off with a heavy thump of your heart and that painfully familiar burn rising in your chest. 
“Look at this one.” Your eyes are on him but his are on the art. “This one looks like you too.” You pull your gaze away from him to view the piece. The thumping in your chest doubles once your gaze meets your own. It’s a mirror with pink and white abstract designs floating around and over the glass. The paint is so messy yet strategic. It leaves just enough room for your reflection. 
“It’s messy yet elegant, don’t you think? You can’t help but to stare..” He’s visibly smiling now. The corners of his mouth turn up as he studies the art in front of him. As he studies you. “This one might be my favorite. It’ll be hard to beat it.”
“I don’t like it.” You mutter quickly, pulling away from Hyunjin and turning towards the next piece. You try your best to steady your breathing. You will your heart to calm down so that you can take a complete breath but it’s betraying you. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.” 
You’re walking away before Hyunjin can reply. He watches you with that smile in his eyes as you disappear around the corner. He knew that what he pulled would be a risk but it was one that he was willing to take. He doesn’t call you beautiful nearly as much as he should or as much as he really wants to. 
In the bathroom you’re slumped against the door of a stall while you try to catch your breath. You don’t like how Hyunjin’s words made that white hot burn in your chest kick up. You don’t like the way that his eyes being on you made you feel like you were the only two in the entire gallery. It’s suffocating. 
When you step out of the stall your fingers are busy on your phone screen. You find your friend Isa’s number quickly and take a sigh of relief when she answers on the third ring. You bypass reciprocating her kind greeting and get right to the point. 
“Get-together at yours tomorrow?”
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You’re standing in the middle of the Pink and White art exhibition. Other viewers jumble together along the walls of the gallery and crowd the pieces. You can’t see anything but their blurred faces decorating the white walls. There’s a slow yet heavy beating in your ears but you’re comfortable. You’re alone in the middle of it all, watching everyone from a pleasant distance as you turn to study them all as if they’re the art on the walls.
 The beating in your ears skips as you turn and come face to face with Hyunjin. He’s standing in front of you wearing that brown hat that you love and the oversized flannel that he bought just to share with you.
 Suddenly the others in the room are quiet. All eyes are on you but Hyunjin’s gaze is the most piercing. His brown eyes are smiling at you with a softness that makes the flame in your chest burn brighter. 
“Why are you staring at me like that?” You look around at everyone else but they’ve vanished along with the art on the walls. The beating in your ears picks up, it’s deafening but Hyunjin’s voice can be heard loud and clear over the noise.  
“I like staring at you.” He takes a step towards you but you take two back. He frowns and steps forward again. You repeat the process until your back is against the wall. “Why do you do that?” 
“I’m not doing anything.” You swallow hard as you try to push him away but he’s stronger than you. As strong as stone caging you against the stark white wall. “I can’t breathe.” You’re pushing as hard as you can but it’s no use. You’re stuck under him.
“Why do you do this?” He’s still staring down at you, a burning gaze setting your skin ablaze. “Why do you keep running?” The beating in your ears drowns out all sensible thoughts. You can feel your veins swelling with fear and the blinding white burning in your chest puffs up with the crushing pressure of having him so close. Too close. 
“Back up.” You inhale the thick air, feeling dizzy. “Move.”
“Stop running.” You try to inhale but it gets stuck in your throat. You want to scream. You need to escape. You need to get out of here. 
You lift your heavy arm the best you can and pull back enough to punch Hyunjin. You aim for his face but your fist goes through him just as your lungs start to burn, you take one last look at him before the wall behind you gives out and you’re falling backwards. Hyunjin watches you, his eyes are void of that sparkling smile and guilt consumes you right before you hit the ground.
You jump up with a gasp as your eyes frantically search the room around you. Your chest rises and falls heavily and sweat beads at your hairline.
It was a dream. 
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Friday is a late day for you with your last class ending at nine in the evening. Hyunjin always waits for you in the abandoned art studio, he waits for two hours just to walk you to your dorm across campus. It’s become a routine for the two of you but you told him not to wait up tonight. He was reluctant at first, he insisted on waiting for you but you were adamant about breaking your routine.
He agreed eventually but you could see the dejection in his eyes as he hugged you goodbye before your last class. He watched you walk away just like he always did but this time his heart was heavy in his chest. Did he do something wrong? 
That question haunted him throughout the day. It was loud in his head as he collected his stuff and made his way to the abandoned studio. It echoed in his ears as he tried to finish the painting of his vibrant rose that he’s added notes of dusty pale pink to. But it was the loudest when Jeongin called him to ask if he was going to the get-together at Minho’s place tonight.
He knows that you and Minho’s girlfriend Isa are close so you have to know about this, hell, you might’ve even helped plan it and you kept it from him. You’re avoiding him.
You skipped your class to head to Minho and Isa’s place. They share a small apartment right off of campus that you often use as an escape. Isa is one of the few friends that you still have from sophomore year since her boyfriend has never once tried to get in your pants. 
You sat on Isa’s bed clutching a bottle of soju that is not at all meant for one person while you laid your head in her lap. You loved being with her because there was never any pressure to fill the silence. She understands you in a way that other people just don’t. Not even Hyunjin. 
“So, he called you pretty?” You’ve been telling her everything from what happened at the art gallery to the nightmare you had last night. “And now you’re avoiding him?”
“I’m not avoiding him.” You take a swig from the glass bottle and gulp hard to rush the alcohol into your system. “I’m just being careful.”
“You’re being careful by avoiding your best friend… because he called you pretty and you had a nightmare about it?” You sit up with a groan, lifting the bottle to your mouth again with a sigh. She’s not getting it. 
“You didn’t see the way he looked at me. You didn’t feel the way he pulled me into him, his arm wrapped around my waist and he just stared at me with that smile in his eyes. You know the one that makes his eyes shine when he sees something pretty? He was looking at me like that and he told me that I looked elegant. Messy but elegant and that he couldn’t help but to stare. There was a softness in his voice, I swear, and he just wouldn’t take his eyes off of me. It’s like he was looking into me instead of at me it was… it was..”
“Sweet?” You tap the bottle in your hands with your nails. 
“Suffocating. It was too much. It made my heart skip and it made me feel hot.” 
“That usually means that you like him, ya know.” She takes the bottle from you, drinking from it a bit herself. “ You know that he’s a romantic and this isn’t the first time you’ve felt like this with him.” She hands the cold glass back to you while you think back to the other times that you’ve felt this. The latest being your birthday three months ago when Hyunjin whisked you away to the next city for a mini getaway. 
You stayed in the same hotel room and on the night of your birthday you had a bit too much to drink. He carried you up to your room since you were too out of it to walk but you weren’t too far gone to forget the way that he handled you with such gentle care.
He brushed your hair out of your face when he laid you on your bed and took your make-up off with such a tender touch that it made you want to kiss him. You almost kissed him. 
“I don’t like him like that.” You shrug and she sighs. 
“Whatever you say, ice queen.” That damned nickname makes you cringe but Minho is bursting through the door before you can rebuttal. 
“Jisung and Bin just got here, come on.” You stare at him with confused eyes and he crosses his arms as he stares back at you. “Well? Get up, you wanted to do this.”
“Do what?” You look over at Isa who’s already getting up from the bed.
“Did you not call her asking for a get-together? People are getting here so come on. I’m not hosting this by myself.” Your heart drops and you stare over at Isa who looks back at you with her own look of confusion until it all sinks in.
��“You meant for it to be just us, didn’t you?”
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Hyunjin is a cautious person, anyone who knows him knows that about him. He doesn’t like when things go wrong because of him. It eats him alive until he can fix it and if he can’t he lets the anxiety consume him until a part of him dies with the memory of it all. 
His cautious nature is what prompted him to drive home after he got that call from Jeongin. It brought him right to his bedroom where he dropped his bag by the foot of his bed and laid back against the mattress with a death stare set on the dull ceiling. It stared back at him, reflecting his thoughts back to him for him to analyze. 
His brother left for the get-together as soon as he walked through the door and Hyunjin was tempted to follow him down to Seungmin’s car.
He was tempted to drop his bag and turn on his heels and come straight to you but he knew better. He knew you better than you knew yourself. If he shows up at that get-together you’ll avoid him like the plague. You’ll feel trapped by his presence and any hope that he has of fixing this situation will die right in front of his eyes. 
His cautious nature is what’s keeping him on his bed. It’s what’s grounding him to this spot and sating the burning desire to chase you. The problem is that the fire in his chest is bigger than he can handle. He’s seen how you treat the men you want to avoid on campus, he’s seen you take the long way home just to avoid a conversation and the thought of you doing that to him makes him wilt. He can’t let that happen. 
His feet are carrying him across his room before he can even fully process it. He opens his closet and pulls out the brown flannel along with his brown beanie. They’ve become comfort items for the both of you at this point, especially the flannel. It feels like a thread connecting you to him and him to you. He needs to save that connection.
 He sloppily throws on the items while he checks the clock. He’s nearly two hours late but there’s still time. 
Hyunjin has never gotten a speeding ticket but he was nearly positive that he’d get one tonight. He made it to Minho’s place in record time but he’s panting when he knocks on the door like he’s ran there. His heart is hammering when Isa answers the door and the look on her face when she takes him in only makes his heart beat faster. 
She forces a smile, inviting him in and telling him where everything is but he already knows all of that and she knows that he does. “She doesn’t want to see me does she?” Isa sighs, giving him a look that answers each and every one of his questions all at once. 
“Thanks for letting me in.” He walks past her with a nervous huff, making his way into the small party and searching for you immediately. He finds Changbin and Chan before he can find you and the two quickly drag him into a conversation about gods know what while wedging a glass bottle of mystery liquid into his fist. 
Hyunjin’s eyes wander in an attempt to find you as he ignores his friends' conversation. Luckily it didn’t take long for the sound of your loud laughter to echo through the room. His eyes were on you in an instant once he heard it. You’re right in front of him sitting in the truth or dare circle with a can of something strong in your hand. You’re always the loudest in the room but right now you seem to be the drunkest too, you shouldn’t be playing that game you’ll do something reckless.  
He wants to go over and pull you up, he wants to tell you that you’re going home and that you need to sober up. He wants to get you to talk to him but he ignores everything he wants and watches you instead. He stays cautious and keeps his distance. 
“Y/n, truth or dare.” One of your few girl friends, Harvey asks from across the circle. You answer ‘dare’ with a wide smile, it’s no surprise, you always pick that. The raven haired girl looks over to Mingi for assistance since she’s known for picking terrible dares. After a couple seconds of deliberation the blonde perks up with an idea.
“I dare you to kiss whoever this bottle lands on.” Mingi dares with a nonchalant smile and you shrug, the alcohol in your system is surely boosting your confidence but it’s not like you’ll remember any of this tomorrow so who cares, right?
He spins the bottle in the middle of the circle and everyone watches with quiet anticipation as it lands on the copper haired boy sitting three people away from you. It’s Jeongin. 
He stops in the middle of sipping from his cup and flashes you a small innocent smile but what you return to him is nothing less than a look of raw seduction. You’re on your feet in an instant, making your way over to him with low and hazy eyes. You straddle him swiftly, getting comfortable in his lap like you’ve done this a hundred times. 
“You sure about this, noona?” His hands rest on your thighs, he brushes his thumbs over the bareskin and you can feel a shiver down your spine. It almost reminds you of how Hyunjin touched you on your birthday. 
“Do you not wanna kiss me?” You tease him with a slight slur to your voice. You know he wants to kiss you, everyone does except for Hyunjin, right? 
Just as that thought passes your eyes flicker up and meet those of the very man on your mind. He’s watching you with an angry gaze as he fists the neck of the glass bottle in his hand. Your mouth goes dry as you take him in, when did he get here? You feel stuck staring at him, everything around you is suddenly muted and the people around you disappear. It’s only you and Hyunjin.
Both of your hearts are pounding in your chest. 
Both of you feel like you can’t breathe. 
Both of you are about to do something that you shouldn’t.
“Kiss her already!” Ryujin instigates from across the circle and you snap out of your haze and blink down at Jeongin. You both share a smile, one more genuine than the other, before he’s leaning into you. His lips just barely brush against yours before you’re interrupted.
A firm grip on your shoulder startles you and the man under you. You both look up to meet the eyes of the angry Hyunjin above you.“Get up.” He practically growls with a slight tug on your arm. You stare up at him with glassy eyes though you are feeling a bit more sober now. “Get. Up.” 
You’re being pulled up before you can process it. Your feet fight to keep up with him as you stumble towards the bedroom he’s leading you to. You can feel all eyes on you, you can feel the room getting smaller once he locks the bedroom door behind the two of you and pulls his flannel off to drape over your shoulders, something that he does to comfort you. 
“What the fuck?” That’s all you can manage to get out of your mouth as you stare over at him. He stares back with his arms crossed and his chest rising and falling with what you perceive as anger but he would describe as anxiety. Pure fear. 
“Do you understand what you were about to do?” Hyunjin tries to be mindful of his tone. He tries to limit the waver of his words and calm the frantic thoughts in his head. He’s trying. “Why would you kiss him?”
“I didn’t.” The alcohol in your system takes over again and you thank the ridiculous amount of soju you’ve consumed for coming to the rescue. You tug on the flannel resting over your shoulders, pretending that its warmth would protect you from the buzzing in your head and inevitable burning in your chest.
“You would’ve if I didn’t stop you. What happened to you not being into Jeongin? What happened to you not wanting to hurt him?”
You groan, stomping your foot like a child being scolded by their guardian. Like the little girl who punched the brunette boy in the face for chasing her. “Why don’t you mind your business?”
Hyunjin scoffs, his anxiety grows in his chest and he takes a step back. “You are my business.” 
It’s silent for one, two, three heartbeats before the dizzying emotions burning in your chest fill in the silence for you. “Well maybe I shouldn’t be. You’re way too attached to me.”
Hyunjin feels frozen even though he’s stepping back from you. He’s creating more space between the two of you just like you seem to be doing. What do you mean by that? You’re rambling on before he can ask. “You do all of these things that make me feel like I can’t breathe. You call me pretty and you touch me softly and you hold me close and… and you just make me feel hot. You suffocate me.”
Hyunjin whispers through the bubbles forming in his throat. He’s gentle with the way he speaks, he is a cautious person after all, especially when it comes to his art. “Is this about what I said at the gallery?”
His question goes in one ear and right out the other. Your brain formulates words quicker than you can process them, creating a violent episode of word vomit that threatens to spill over your lips and onto the carpet but you swallow hard and condense it all into one simple yet seering sentence. “You keep making my heart race, it’s not fair. You need to go, just go.”
Hyunjin’s blood runs cold and his temples throb like you’ve hit him. Like you’ve punched him in the face. Anxiety bubbles in his veins and swells behind his eyes. It’s his turn to ramble, the word vomit seems to be contagious. 
“I’m not leaving.” His gaze is frantic, cautious, scared. “I am too attached, you’re right. I have been for a while. I’ve loved you for a while and I tried to hide it but I shouldn’t have to. I shouldn’t be scared that I’ll lose my best friend if I tell her that she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
 “No, you are not confessing to me right now. Don’t you dare do that.” You pace to the left then the right in a hurried attempt to escape his words before they could reach you. He can’t be doing this right now. You needed to get out of here.
“I am. I am confessing to you. I need you to hear me say that I love you because I do and it scares me just as much as it scares you but you are the reason that it’s scaring me. Losing you is the reason that I’m afraid and I need you to tell me that that isn’t going to happen.” His voice is shaky just like your hands. He watches you like a dog being dropped off at the pound as you physically try to escape him. He knew this would happen, this is what he was afraid of. 
“Stop. Just stop it, Hyunjin. You’re doing it again, I can’t breathe when you’re this close to me.” He stares over at you from the other side of the room and you stare back at him. This doesn’t make any sense. He isn’t next to you but you still can’t breathe. It doesn’t make any sense. “I have to go - I have - just… just leave me alone.” You turn towards the bedroom door but he speaks up before you can make your escape. 
“I’m not going to chase you.” Hyunjin is unmoving. His feet are still planted to the floor like a statue as he slips his fists into his pocket. “I don’t want to push you further away but don’t you dare go home and convince yourself that I don’t care just because I let you go.” 
You listen to him over your hammering heart with your back turned to him and your unsteady gaze trained on the worn door knob. “I’m letting you go with the hope that you’ll come back. You know where to find me.” 
Your feet threaten to betray you, they try to turn you around and drive you over to him but your heart is screaming. That white flame is burning in your chest and begging you to run. Run as fast as you can and find safety, but your safety is standing behind you. It’s watching you with teary eyes that are desperate to meet yours. 
A tear slips down your cheek as you grab the doorknob and pull it with a quick twist. You follow your heart and rush out of the room with tears decorating your face and your hand over your mouth. You let the burning win again.
You rush past everyone, Isa tries to stop you and Minho even catches you for a minute but you fight him off of you and make your way to the front door. You don’t get too far before the last layer of your resolve snaps, You turn onto the next dark block and sink to the ground. Sobs rip through you as Hyunjin’s words hang in your head. He loves you. He wants you but you left him. You left everything you’ve ever wanted behind you. 
A heavier sob escapes you as the truth of it all comes crashing down. You love him too, don’t you? You’ve loved him for so long. Since your birthday and beyond that but you’ve been avoiding it. You’ve avoided your feelings just like you have everything else. You’ve punched yourself in the face, you’ve chased yourself into a corner and now you might just lose everything you have left. You might lose your best friend.
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The storms over the next two days swirl the skies into mysterious clouds of pink and white as rain soaks the grass the same way that you’ve soaked your pillow for hours. You’ve opted to stay in, avoiding anything or anyone that could remind you of Friday’s catastrophe.
 You’ve debated texting Jeongin and apologizing for what you remember of the situation. You almost called Isa to spill the fears bubbling in your lungs to her so that she could help you sort through them but she can’t. This is up to you. You need to make a choice. Will you run away from the fire or towards it? 
On the other side of campus Hyunjin sits in the abandoned studio with paint stained hands and dried tears on his cheeks. He’s left his previous painting incomplete. The bright blushing rose sits across the room with the others just like it while he touches his brush to the canvas and smears a smoky mauve to the pristine white flesh. His lines are messy and uncalculated. Far from cautious. 
For a moment he considers that he was only ever careful because of you. Your lack of control over your emotions inspired him to fill in the blanks for you. Now there’s no need for caution without you.
The rain carried into Monday along with the emptiness in your chest. You’ve typed and deleted paragraphs to Hyunjin who has done the same as he sat on the studio floor.
He stayed in the dusty room until midnight each day that he was without you and you stayed up well past then. He poured himself into painting and you poured yourself onto the carpet of your dorm room. You made lists and mapped your emotions until it all started to make a bit more sense. Until the love that burned alongside your hot white fear was glowing pink in the mirror. 
You skipped your classes on Monday, your feet drove you over to the dead side of campus through the violent rain. You stood in the hallway outside of Hyunjin’s studio. The worn copper doorknob stared back at you like it knew what you were here to do. Like it was daring you to go inside. You suck in a breath as you grab the metal, you’ve never been one to back down from a dare.
The studio is empty when you walk inside. The fading warm light of the lamps that you and Hyunjin bought and snuck in illuminate the space the best that they can given the dull pink skies. Your eyes catch on the new piece sitting up on his easel. It’s dark and runny, it’s raw and it feels like it’s calling your name. 
“Hi.” Hyunjin’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. His voice is small and surprised as he stares over at your frame clad in that famous brown flannel and sweatpants. 
“Hi.” You whisper back. He looks like a mess. Brown hat, pulled too far over his head and his hair spilling from every exit it can find. “More roses?” 
He stares passed you and over at the wilting petals on the canvas with a sad smile. “It’s like I’m in love or something.” 
Your guilt tinged heart beats a bit faster when he steps further into the room and closes the door behind him. He drops his bag next to the door and stares at the dinghy tile with his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry. For everything, for the party and everything with your brother and for everything that I said.” 
The word vomit is back. It spilled over your lips before you could attempt to swallow it back but you’re almost thankful for it. You have no clue how you’d get your words out otherwise. “You just made me feel… I just felt..” You kick at the cracked tile as if it holds the answers you’re looking for but Hyunjin beats you to it.
“Suffocated.” His eyes are on you now, they’re low and shadowed in a longing sadness. “I’ve seen this happen a million times to other guys and I thought that I was being careful enough to avoid it.” 
“This is nothing like the other guys.” Your bag slumps off of your shoulder and you carelessly allow it to hit the floor. “Your confession just -” He cuts you off with a tight smile.
 “I know. It ruined everything.” He sighs, sad eyes examining the space between the two of you. “I ruined everything and I’m sorry for that, rose. I really am.”
“It didn't. It didn’t ruin anything, it just scared me. I felt suffocated, yes, but not by you. It was by what I felt for you. That’s why this isn’t like what happened with any of the other guys. I never wanted them. Avoiding them was easy but you… avoiding you..” Hyunjin watches your heaving chest with the caution that he thought had abandoned him. He’s quiet, allowing you time to gather your thoughts. He doesn’t want to corner you, he just wants to hear you. 
“Why do you call me that?” You whisper once your breathing has steadied. “Why did you start calling me rose?”
Suddenly he’s looking past you then down at the tile under his feet. He leans against the door behind him, a faint smile decorating his sad face. “You were wearing one in your hair on the day that I realized I love you.” He looks over to where his easel is set up. “We were sitting right there and you had a pale pink rose behind your left ear. You picked me one to match and I told you that it was my favorite flower because in that moment it was. It was beautiful but you…your beauty is hard to beat.”
Your heart is thumping in your ears, it’s a sound that you’ve grown comfortable with over the past few days. The clutter of the abandoned room almost seems to disappear as you process his words. The burning in your chest makes itself known along with the newly identified pink flame. The white walls of the studio almost seem brighter as you receive Hyunjin’s confession. You let it sink in and drown out the tension little by little. “So when you paint them…”
“I’m painting you. I’m always painting you.” The thumping is deafening but Hyunjin is clear over the noise. He has always been the only one who can cut through it all, even in your dreams. 
You can feel yourself falling just like in your nightmare only it’s forwards. You’re falling forwards as your feet carry you to him. You run. You run to him and you fall into his arms that have been desperate to catch you for months. The burn in your chest is paralyzing, it’s seering and fighting the pink flame for dominance. 
You cry into his chest, you sob as the pain of running into the fire engulfs you. It swallows you whole and you stand in it with him, you cling to him before you burn to ash and he holds you like he knows it all. He cradles the back of your head like he can feel the fire ripping your flesh apart. 
You’re flush against him, tears soaking his shoulder and burning all over until he does what no one has done before. He puts it all out. A simple kiss to the top of your head dowses the flame and reduces it to a measly spark of fear overshadowed by an uncontainable pink and white glow of love in your chest. 
You gasp at the cooling effect. Air rushes into your lungs and you can finally breathe, he’s the oxygen you needed. He’s everything you’ve needed but now you want to give your air away again. You want to give it all to him. 
You pull away from his shoulder in one swift motion, your eyes are shut tight as your lips find his and you pull him into a hard and messy kiss. The sound that escapes you both is desperate and beautiful. His lips move with yours in an uncoordinated rhythm that makes your lungs burn comfortably. They burn the way that they’re supposed to. 
Hyunjin cries into the kiss. Tears stream down his cheeks as he cradles you against him like you’d vanish if he didn’t. He drinks it all in, he allows himself to live in this moment that he’s been dying to have with you for what feels like an eternity before he reluctantly breaks the kiss. 
His eyes are still closed when he pulls away. He whispers to you, careful not to crack the shell of this delicate moment. “I thought you -” 
“I don’t want to keep running. I can’t, I need you. I can’t lose you.” Your eyes flutter open at the same time as his. He stares down at you with that smile in his eyes. That smile he has when he sees something beautiful, when he’s utterly enamored by the sight before him. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to do any of this, I only know that I want to do it with you.”
He’s quiet for a couple of seconds before a smile sneaks up on him. It fades just as quickly as it came and his eyebrows pinch together. “You want me?” You nod and the smile shows itself again. 
“I want you.” He leans back in, cupping your cheek as he kisses you hard. His body pushes against yours and you move with him as he walks backwards towards one of the few empty desks and lifts you onto it. 
His hands explore every inch of you that he can reach. He balls his fist over the baggy flannel hiding your body from him while your fingers tangle in his hair and scratch over his shoulders and up his arms.
 He breaks the kiss to run his lips over the flushed flesh of your neck, he whispers into your skin between each kiss “Tell me to stop.” He pulls at the collar of the flannel to kiss the curve of your neck. “I’ve waited so long for this, please tell me to stop. Tell me to wait.”
You push his head further into the crook of your neck as you tilt your head further to give him better access. “I don’t want you to.” He sucks a mark into the skin right below your ear and you pull his tucked in shirt from his pants with an elated moan. 
His clumsy fingers fight to unbutton the oversized flannel as yours attempt to unbutton his jeans. You reach your goal before he does and waste no time capitalizing on your victory. You dip your hand in just enough to fish his growing erection from his briefs and wrap your hand around it. 
Hyunjin moans at the stimulation, leaning his forehead against yours and squeezing his eyes shut as you stroke him slowly. “Fuck, please don’t, I wont - I can’t last.”
 You kiss his temple softly, whispering reassurance that you don’t care to have him last, you just want to have him. Once he’s centered himself again he continues his struggle to expose your body to him. The final button falls open like the curtain to a play and he stares down your scantily clad torso like an audience in awe. 
His hand moves on its own as he admires you. It dips into the waistband of your sweatpants and swipes over your clothed clit.
 Your head falls forward to rest on his shoulder with a quiet moan as he groans into the air. Your grip on his cock tightens a bit in response to the sensation and he hisses. “Please tell me I can feel you. Is it okay? Can I?” 
He doesn't want your first time to be here but he wants you. He needs you. 
Hyunjin hooks a finger into the damp gusset of your panties and pulls it to the side just enough to slip a finger into your waiting cunt. You pant in his ear, wanton moans bubble over the brim of your lips as his free hand cradles the side of your neck. “Look at me, please look at me, baby.”
 He runs his thumb over your cheek, brushing over the path of your dried tears. “So pretty, this must be a dream.” You shake your head. Speaking between moans. “Not a dream, baby.”
 He slips in another finger as you circle your palm over the head of his cock and you both moan. “Please tell me I can.” He leans his forehead against yours, his desperate eyes reflect the look in your own.
“You can. Please, I want you to.” 
“Have you ever thought about it?” He’s asking before he can process it and you’re shaking your head before he can even finish his sentence. A shy glaze washes over your desperate gaze as you watch him undress you.
 “You’re all I ever think about.” He whispers as he hooks his thumbs into the band of your pants. “You’re all I’ve wanted for the past year.” 
“I’ve loved you since my birthday.” You blurt out, vulnerable eyes peering into his. “Maybe even before that.” He runs a finger over your clothed cunt and you shudder under the touch.
“I wanted to kiss you the night of your birthday. You looked so beautiful but you were wasted. You wouldn’t have remembered. I just stared at you, I took your make-up off and I brushed the hair from your face and you stared back at me. I was just dying to kiss you. I was dying to confess.” Your hand runs slowly up his shaft and he swears that he feels electric. 
“I wanted to kiss you too.” He’s quiet, staring back at you with a smile. “That’s why I was staring”
“I kissed your forehead when you fell asleep.”  He pulls your panties down your legs, allowing them to pool at his feet with your sweatpants. “I knelt by your bed and whispered my confession to you.” 
His fingers are filling you again and you gasp while staring into his eyes. “I wanna hear it.” You whisper through a moan.
 “You want to hear my confession?” You nod, your gently fucked out gaze stares into his like your hypnotized by the moment. He scissors his finger into you, stretching you out just a bit before you’re gasping from the stretch of him replacing his fingers with his length. 
“Fuck, you’re inside of me.” Hyunjin stills with a groan. His forehead rests on your shoulder while he silently begs himself not to come undone just yet. He sucks in a breath before he recites all that he can remember. 
“You’re everything that I thought it would be to fall in love.” He whispers as he pulls back, thrusting into you slowly. “You really snuck up on me, I don’t know what I expected though.” He lifts his head to look at you as he sinks back into you. “You became my world so quickly. So effortlessly.”
 You cup his face with both of your hands as you bite back your moans. You want to hear him loud and clear. You want to remember every word. “I should’ve known that I’d fall in love when I first met you.” He picks up the pace, falling into a messy rhythm that’s accompanied by a fit of moans and grunts. 
He struggles to keep his eyes on you. They flutter shut with each thrust as he feels himself float closer and closer to his climax. “Baby, I won’t last.” You wrap your arms around his neck and one of his wraps around your waist while the other rests on your thigh before creeping over to softly pinch and rub your clit. 
“Hyune, you’re gonna make me - gonna -” He cuts you off with a sloppy kiss, his tongue brushes over your parted lips to request access before making room for itself against yours.
“If you tell me that you’re gonna cum I won’t last another second.” He whispers against your lips and you moan against his.
“What if I tell you that I love you.” Hyunjin’s eyebrows pinch at the confession. That’s way worse than telling him that you’re close. “I’ve loved you back for as long as - as long as you’ve loved me.”
“Rose, baby, you’re gonna -” It’s your turn to kiss him now, it’s a mess of teeth and tongue but you love it. You love him and him you.
 You both pull away in tandem, twin moans ripping through your chests as you both announce yourself to the other. 
“I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” Hyunjin pulls out of you, painting your thighs in his sticky white release while his fingers toy with your clit to ride you through your orgasm. It’s loud and messy and beautiful. A romantic elegance that you want to live in for as long as it’s available. 
Once you’ve both come down from your high Hyunjin kisses your sweaty forehead and you kiss his. He pulls his bottoms up before grabbing the cleanest paint rag he has to clean you up. A comfortable silence settles around you as you ground yourself and take in the space.
“You didn’t finish that one.”
He follows your gaze over to the painting of the pale pink rose. The middle of the canvas contrasts the rest with nothing but dull line art to show the completed picture. It looks like a work in progress. “I know, but I think I like it like that.” He looks back over at you and you at him.
“It looks like you."
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It’s been seven months. Graduation has come and gone in the middle of your blooming relationship with Hyunjin and you’ve dedicated each and every second of your budding love to taming the flame. 
Each kiss from him has kept the spark of fear at bay and each touch has taught you how to stop running. It’s been a slow and cautious process that he is more than proud to be a part of. He takes pride in it. He takes pride in being with you.
The smooth breeze of late summer brushes against your skin as you step out of your car. The white dress that Hyunjin picked out for you sticks to you like paint on a canvas as you make your way up to the art gallery. 
It’s buzzing inside, people stand and stare in awe at each piece while whispering and pointing to their favorite details. You stop and stand in the middle of it all, taking it all in with a slow spin on the balls of your feet. You take in every corner until you turn around completely and you’re met with the face of the artist himself. 
“Hi.” Hyunjin smiles down at you, brown baggy flannel hanging from his shoulders. 
“Hi.” You stare back at him with a gleaming smile in your eyes. You take in every inch of him, scanning him like he should be framed and hanging on the walls around you. 
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Hyunjin wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “I like staring at you.” Your response makes him beam a shy smile. 
“You should be staring at the art. The artist might get sad if you don’t.” He kisses your forehead before letting you go. Some people around you stare over at the two of you with curious eyes. They’re eager to put a face to the muse of the showing artist. 
You take his hand and lead him over to the piece that a couple is walking away from. You stand in front of it hand in hand as you study it for what feels like the millionth time. “This one is my favorite.” The incomplete pale pink rose stares back at you.
“And why is that?” Hyunjin has that smile in his eyes as he stares up with you. The memory of this piece's origin plays behind his eyes like a memorized movie. 
“I’ve been told that it looks like me.” You lay your head on his shoulder and wrap your arm around his. A chill runs up his spine and he blames it on you. You and the love he feels glowing pink and white around you. 
“There you are.” History repeats itself as the lady that you’ve come to know as Dalia interrupts the two of you. “I wanted to check in with you, how does it feel to finally have your own exhibition?” 
Hyunjin smiles at her politely, turning towards her a bit with his fingers still threaded through yours. “It’s amazing. Thank you, you’ve done a wonderful job putting this together.” 
“Oh, please, it’s nothing. This is all you.” You watch her as her eyes smile just as they always have. Her hand brushes over his arm in a carefully calculated move. She’s still shameless and unprofessional. “This piece is my favorite. The unfinished look is unique and raw. What inspired this one?” 
You grin to yourself as you listen to her. She’s trying so hard that it’s difficult not to laugh. 
“Actually.” Hyunjin pulls your hand a bit, leading you forward so that you’re right next to him. It’s impossible for Dalia to ignore you now. Her eyes scan you reluctantly and the smile on her face falters for a second before she pulls it together. Gosh, that's gratifying. 
“My lovely rose here is the inspiration for it all.” Hyunjin looks over at you with a glow that is unmatched even by the largest of flames. “None of this would be possible without her.” 
It’s like Dalia disappears once Hyunjin looks over at you. You’re the only two in the room as far as you’re concerned. “Oh, well that’s just - that’s wonderful.” Her staggered speech pulls you both out of your loving haze. 
“Such a … sweet profession of love.” She glares over at you though you’re sure that in her head she’s doing a wonderful job at hiding her contempt. “I should make sure that everything is running smoothly. Please excuse me.” 
She clears her throat awkwardly before she departs, you and Hyunjin both bid her smiling farewells before turning to each other with wide smiles. “Show off.” You push his shoulder playfully and he laughs.
“I didn’t do anything.” You roll your eyes as you both wander over to the next piece on the wall. You stare up at the two pink roses in a lone vase, a shadow of sunlight casts down on them both as they rise towards its shining glow. 
A comfortable silence blankets the two of you while you listen to the soft buzz of the people around you. You squeeze his hand softly and he squeezes back just as you open your mouth to speak. 
“She still wants to fuck you.” He smiles 
“Shut up.”
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lixies-favorite-cookie · 10 days ago
Text
⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’  simple acts of love from skz
—All the times stray kids said I love you in the little things.
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words・6.8k pairings・stray kids x reader genres・fluff, a little crack, established relationships warnings・lots and lots of kisses!! happy tears, drunken re-confessions, silliness, playful living room dancing, minhos a shy baby, he's also a little shit in changbins, erotic painting in hyunjins, hans is a little bit more emotional, silly little proposals, my terrible attempt at writing lyrics, jeongin stalks your goodreads profile and buys your entire TBR list like I don't have at least a thousand tbr books...some of these are silly some of these are sickeningly sweet,
a/n・I wrote these drabbles based on these headcanons, but I did change Minho's because I believed it fit him better!! Also, this has been rotting in my drafts for MONTHS im not super proud of them, but I hope you like them anyways.
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ᡣ𐭩 chan + sneaking into your bathroom to trace hearts onto the bathroom mirror.
"This is a suicide mission!" his lungs scream as he slips into your inferno of a bathroom, a heavy cloak of steam hugging him instantly. His respiratory system begs for release, a moist cough rolling up his throat; but like the magnificent boyfriend he is, he shoves those rebellious bodily functions right back down his windpipe.
Was his silly little plan worth the ability to breathe? Yes. Did he also wonder how you even could? Also yes.
The mirror fogs like the surface of an ancient lake, obstructing the image of his mischievous grin. He brings a pointer finger to the glass, drawing all his ardor in the mist—though it only comes out as lopsided hearts.
Your voice floats out from behind the curtain, absentmindedly humming to a silent tune. Shadows of your hands move through your hair, your body refracted onto the thin sheet.
You are so beautiful...
Cupid smacks his jaw shut.
He manages to slip out right as the water sputters off, sliding into the living room by his socks. He face-plants onto the couch, scrambling to sit upright. The loud smack of your towel echoes in his ears as his wide eyes dart to the table, frantically searching for something to occupy his attention. He snatches the first thing he sees, which just happens to be a... candle?
Whatever, no time!
Chan is intently studying the ocean-blue Bath & Body Works label, when you come pattering out, damp hair dribbling water behind you. The moment you step into his line of sight, his heart plummets—that stupid aromatherapy candle nearly tumbling with it.
There you were, in all your drenched glory, your towel wrapped snug against your chest, tears rolling freely down your cheeks. Did you hear that?! Tears!! You were crying?! Why were you crying?!?!
Chan must have embodied the spirit of a kangaroo, because he’s never jumped up faster in his life.
"Why are you crying? You're supposed to be happy!" he yelps, yanking your body into his arms, water seeping into the thin fabric of his tee shirt. His brain becomes the equivalent of the world’s most fucked-up ambrosia when you begin laughing, the curve of your smile pressed into his chest. He blinks—he doesn't know whether to kiss you or call a priest. Maybe he should do both?
Suddenly you pull away, cocooning his cheeks with pruney hands, your bottom lip wobbling as you sob, "I'm so in love with you."
Well, good job—now he's sobbing too.
"I'm in love with you too, baby."
You had drawn hearts on the walls of his soul in the same way he had drawn them in the steam of your mirror. The only difference is, yours would never fade away.
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ᡣ𐭩 minho + randomly sending you songs that remind him of you.
Minho wasn't the type to throw his arms around you, pressing kisses to your face with all his overflowing ardor. Instead, in the minuscule overlaps of time between talking on the phone and constructing a perfect dance routine, he'll find himself sitting dazed upon the lounge room couch, mindlessly nodding to a catchy tune. He had left his Spotify on smart shuffle, finding comfort in the idea of a song found without searching, as if it were fate's gentle finger dusting the path to new adventures. He flutters his eyelids shut, ripples of sound washing over his skin.
And I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime
And I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine
'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions
Wishing on everyone that you'd be mine, mine
In a rash flood of emotions, he sends you the song just before Chan steps into view, announcing his dire need to finish choreographing the final steps of their newest single. Begrudgingly, he slips his phone into his back pocket, his earbuds following suit. The only thing that keeps him sane throughout the day is the anticipation that he will go home and see you, and that makes it all worth it.
ᡣ𐭩
May I have this dance?" you declare, extending your arm with feigned seriousness, though the playful smile tugging at your lips betrays you instantly.
“What?” Minho chuckles through furrowed brows, observing the unusual surroundings; candles flicker dim lighting on the walls, throwing shadows on the rose petals you had scattered around your living room, forming an intriguing resemblance to a romantic dance floor. He sets the bags of groceries on the ground. Lee Know is so beyond confused, yet also pleasantly surprised, especially when you waltz over to him, tight red dress hugging all your gorgeous curves.
“You still haven't answered my question,” you sing, playfully twirling into his arms. Your hands find their way to the nape of his neck, tracing mindless circles in his hair. A shiver rolls up his spine as you tilt your face forward, lips so close; his heart flutters like a fragile leaf tumbling down from an autumn tree. He blinks before exhaling—
“Of course, I'll dance with you.”
A delighted squeal erupts from your lips, and you jump away from his arms, heading straight over to your phone to play the song he sent you prior. A warm blush floods his cheeks, painting them a bashful red.
“Did you like it?” His eyes fall away from yours.
“Did I like it?? Of course I liked it!” you squeal, gaping at him like he was the dumbest person on the planet. World War Three rages inside his chest as he fights not to fold like a lawn chair, flopping on the floor like a flustered starfish. Though when your hands rub their way up from his chest to his shoulders, he's surprised he's even upright. Your hips sway to the melody, a warm smile melting away all his defenses; but when you guide his awkward hands to the dip in your hips, it’s game over. He stuffs his face into your neck, littering the sensitive skin with kisses, his brain screaming: distract the enemy!! distract the enemy!!
“Do you know how much I love you?” he mumbles with striking genuineness. Instead of answering his question, you simply twirl yourself around his finger, placing his hand to wrap around the small of your back. He dips you down right as the music swells. It was magical, really—the candlelight twinkling in your peripheral, spills of starlight dancing off the ocean's surface. It was all so perfect—that was until your shoe caught on one of the rose petals, the floor turning slick under your feet. You send yourself tumbling straight to the ground. Minho squeals, grasping at thin air, but then he too also slips, frantically shooting his wrists out so he doesn't crush you.
The music cuts through the deafening silence as petals weave their way into your hair. You roll your lips into your teeth, glancing over to an eerily still Minho, staring at the ceiling like a spooked tabby. As if he could feel your eyes, his gaze finds yours, and only then does he burst out into roaring laughter, which prompts you to also join the fun.
“Are you sure you're the main dancer?” you tease through breathy giggles. He gasps, smacking a dramatic hand over his chest.
“I’ll have you know you fell first.”
And I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime
And I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine
'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions
Wishing on everyone that you'd be mine, mine
In that moment, as the light hits you just right, he swears he finds the universe in your eyes. Your skin is showered in candlelight, head tilted back—joy flickers on your tongue as honey drips from your teeth. His heart pounds against his ribs, flowers sprouting in his lungs. To the world, he was an aloof grump with smooth moves and an impressive affinity for cats; but to you, with you, he was so much more.
Mid-snort, he captures your cheek, pressing his lips to yours. In a single gesture, he is pouring all the words he wished to say—
though to you, it tasted a little bit like—
If he had to blow a wish on every dandelion in the universe just to keep you, he would; and only through your lips would he find the power to keep breathing.
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ᡣ𐭩 changbin + gushing about you while drunk
The balmy patio is sticky with soju-infused groans, most of the boys slumped in their respective seats, throwing back exasperated swigs of their drinks as they desperately try to drown out Changbin’s relentless rambles.
The two semicircle outdoor couches form a full circle around an unlit bonfire pit. On one of the couches sits a completely unfazed Felix, taking small sips of his soju between chuckles; an extremely annoyed Seungmin, glaring daggers at Changbin; and I.N, who doesn’t seem to be doing much of anything except, well, sleeping—body slumped against the armrest. Hyunjin is sandwiched between Chan and Changbin on the other couch: Chan, who wishes he never even brought up the idea to buy beer in the first place, and Changbin, who is currently slumped over a very irked Hyunjin’s lap. Han is somewhere in the house, probably giggling at his own swirling reflection.
Hyunjin digs his fingers into the roots of his locks, fighting every urge not to yank the tufts straight out.
“N-no, but Jinnie, you don’t u-understand—she’s so pretty,” Changbin slurs, stuffing his face into his friend’s hoodie, which makes Hyunjin frown and swat him away.
“That’s it! I’m calling Y/N!” Seungmin announces, jumping up from his seat. Chan grabs his sleeve, yanking him straight back down, much to Seungmin’s dismay. he sinks into the polyester in a puddle of disgruntled grumbles.
"Or we could record him," Minho calls out from the shadows of the back entryway, only ever appearing when he needed more beer or more entertainment. And right now, it was dinner and a show. Minho simply shrugs as if his evil plan wouldn’t ruin his best friend's bad-boy reputation. "Send it to Y/N later," he mumbles to himself, the devil tilting his cheek up. Nobody seems to hear him, so he slyly pulls his phone from his pocket and presses record.
"No, no, no! You can't call Y/N. She’ll know I love her!" Changbin gasps in horror, stumbling to grab the phantom phone that apparently appears on Hyunjin’s lap with the way he paws at his jeans. Hyunjin takes a nice, long swig of his soju.
"You know you and Y/N have been together for over four years, right?" Felix chuckles, finding the whole ordeal pure comedic relief.
"No, you don’t understand. She’ll know I love her... lover," Changbin’s words slur into an incoherent shake of his head. Minho's evil cackles float out from the concealment of the doorway, and Chan perks up.
"Minho, what are you doing?!" Minho slams his phone against his thigh. What the hell?? Does Chan have Spidey senses or something??
"Nothing!" he yelps, sounding super convincing. Chan narrows his eyes toward the darkness where Minho is supposedly lurking, sporting an eerily perfect rendition of a frustrated father. That is, until Changbin begins a very off-tune version of “The Itsy Bitsy Spider,” rolling over on Hyunjin’s lap to tap his fingers up his arm and eventually landing on Hyunjin’s nose with a giggle. When Hyunjin almost bites his finger off, Chan finally diverts his attention. Minho thanks God for the shadows—how else would he have gotten away with recording all of that?
“I’m about two seconds away from bringing you back to Y/N,” Hyunjin sighs, his lips pressed into a tight line as he glares at the man whose eyes just burst with light at the thought of seeing you. Chan smacks Hyunjin on the back sympathetically, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Why me, Lord? Why me?" Chan sings his woes under his breath but just loud enough for the camera to pick up—and for Minho to giggle.
"Y/N, I miss Y/N. Can I go home to Y/N, please?" Changbin hiccups, slumping his head onto Hyunjin’s shoulder. Hyunjin’s eye twitches. "I wanna tell the pretty girl I love her."
Felix emerges from his silence with a fit of laughter, nearly spilling his beer all over the floor. "Weren't you just saying you didn’t want to tell her you loved her?"
Changbin whips his gaze forward, his eyes hardening into a very foggy glare. "Well, now I want to tell the pretty girl I love her," he states matter-of-factly, his eyes fluttering a bit, betraying just how drunk he is.
Felix’s amusement is transparent as he raises his beer in Changbin’s direction. "Somebody needs to bring him to Y/N and let him re-confess his undying love for her."
Seungmin has never jumped up so fast in his life; he’s mid-volunteer when Chan grabs the cuff of his sleeve again and yanks him right back on his ass. Seungmin collapses onto the couch, ready to spit a disrespectful insult at his elder, but he folds like a lawn chair when Chan shoots him that look.
"Seungmin, you are far too drunk to take him home, while I," he looks to the sky with regret, "am very regretfully sober." Chan sounds like he’s going through the five stages of grief in one sentence.
"Okay, buddy, I’m taking you home," Chan grunts, clapping the drunken boy on the back. Changbin beams like he just heard there was a cure for cancer.
"Hell yeah!" He jumps up, only to stumble slightly, the patio swimming in his vision as he catches himself on Hyunjin’s forehead. When he finally, barely stabilizes himself, he throws his hands up. "See y’all bitches later! I—” he dramatically points to his chest in pride, “—am going to see my girl," he declares and marches straight out the door. Chan is mid-goodbye hug turned introspection with Felix, wondering what he’s doing with his life, when he hears a loud shatter in the hallway. Chan falls out of Felix’s arms immediately, his stride turned sprint. 
"Son of a bitch, Changbin, that was my favorite vase!"
ᡣ𐭩
“Go ahead, tell the pretty girl how much you love her,” you tease, playfully mimicking kissy faces while simultaneously poking Changbin’s crumpled form, his boiling cheeks sandwiched between his knees.
Why did Minho have to send you that video? But most of all, why did he have to send it while Changbin was still hungover? All this humiliation can’t be good for his headache.
Changbin groans, falling back on the bed to pull a pillow over his scorching face. The fact that the whole mattress hasn’t burst into flames is truly beyond him. Giggles pour from your lips, even as they settle atop his stomach, leaving kisses all the way up his torso. You can hear his flustered pants from down here.
“Okay, that’s enough bullying for one day,” you say, straddling his waist to snake your arms around his waist, pressing your chests flush together. Your teeth graze his shoulder, softly biting the flesh. “Come on, baby, take the pillow off your face.” You press your smile against his shirt before resting your chin on his chest.
He peeks out from under the pillow, tugging it down just enough to reveal his eyes, still reluctant to fully reveal himself. You bat your lashes at him, pouting ever so slightly. He folds—like a damn lawn chair, at this point, he’s practically collapsing in on himself with how much he’s folded. His face melts into a grin as he finally pulls the pillow down.
He so regrets that.
Your face lights up with laughter as you take in his beet-red cheeks, your eyes disappearing into crinkled slits. “I’m sorry, I just... I just can’t,” you cackle, doubling over in heaves.
“I hate you,” Changbin shouts, flustered, smacking you square in the side of the head with the pillow. It does nothing to quell your amusement; in fact, it only makes it worse.
“That’s not what you said last night,” you snort, falling off him as you kick your feet against the sheets.
Despite his urge to tie a millstone around his ankle and jump off the face of the earth, he can’t help but smile, caught in an unusual state of awe. Your mouth is boxy, laughter filling the air like strands of warm honey.
“Apparently, you think about me a lot,” you snicker, still rolling around. his smile only spreads wider.
If only you knew how much he thought of you.
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ᡣ𐭩 hyunjin + painting perfectly captured portraits of you
“Hold still for me, baby,” Hyunjin whispers, his voice low and intimate, as he lightly drags his brush down the length of your arm, adding the final touches to your portrait. His gaze traces your bare body, memorizing every inch until even the freckle on the upper left side of your waist is drawn onto the inside of his eyelids. The valley of your breasts trembles with each labored breath, your muscles tightening against the couch where you lay.
“I’m really trying, Jinnie, but it hurts,” you whine, fighting to keep your head steady. Your boyfriend lets out a breathy laugh, savoring one final glance at your naked form. With careful precision, he drags the sharpest part of his brush down your thigh, finishing the entire painting with his favorite peice of you.
“Done,” Hyunjin murmurs, settling back into his chair with a satisfied smile, admiring the art he’s just created. Usually when he painted, there was always something he hated about his work—whether it's the proportions or the colors were slightly out of harmony—it was never good enough. but when he paints you, there's never an issue; for he could capture you with children's finger paints, and you'd still find a way to look utterly breathtaking.
“Let me see,” you squeal, jumping up from the uncomfortable spot you’d claimed on his couch. A faint blush appears on his face as he turns the easel around, unraveling his heart before you. And oh, when he does—you collapse into his arms, all your strength diffused into a shuddering gasp. He had dipped his brush into your soul, and with every meticulous stroke, he gathered the very essence of your heart. It was almost unreal how perfect he made you appear to be—your moles speckled across your skin in gold, dusted like stars; your stretch marks adorned in silver, shining like slips of light.
How are you not sobbing right now??
“Is it okay?” he asks, bashfully wrapping his arms around your naked waist, completely unfazed by your current state of undress.
“Hyunjin, this is more than okay,” you sniffle, voice crackling with emotion. You turn to meet his gaze, only for his palms cradle your cheeks with a touch so tender, it's barely there. One second, you’re breathing; the next, you’re transcending, existing only between his lips.
By the time you come up for air, the world around you has changed. He’s on top of you now, his hands resting on either side of your head, thoughts long forgotten. He moves closer, allowing whisps of his hair to tickle the sensitive flesh of your neck; for his lips to settle upong the delicate curve of your collarbone. He doesn’t stop—he doesn’t stop until the sun kisses your skin, until the sky is filled with the very stars he painted upon your skin.
Only in love and art are you eternal and in hyunjin, with hyunjin, you are both. 
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ᡣ𐭩 han + hiding messages into every song he produces
"In every lifetime," a heartfelt promise whispered between shuttering breaths. Han's lips parted, your tongue savoring his astonished gasp. "What did you say?" quickly transformed into "Did you mean it?" when you had tenderly threaded your fingers into his hair, the pad of your thumb settling just under his jaw. Your needy hands had fogged his head, but he never forgot it.
"In every lifetime," you had uttered many moons later, nestled underneath the stretch of midnight sky. The universe had stilled, all of time and space screeching to a deafening halt. You unraveled the scrolls of his soul, and with the eternal vow of "I do," swore forever. So, he, for however long he may live, intends to hold you to that promise.
From: Hannie 🐿 Do not by any means play my new song!!!
From: Hannie 🐿 Im serious!!
From: Hannie 🐿 Promise me Y/N!!!
You giggle at his earnestness, clicking the notification to message him back.
From: My Wife ❤ I won't I promise!
From: My Wife ❤ Scouts honor 🫡
You admired Han's dedication to his craft, but what you admired most was his need to share every single part of it with you.
"You didn't listen to the song, did you?" Han calls out from the foyer, slamming the front door behind him. He urgently throws off his shoes, his heavy footsteps following him all the way up the stairs. Your mirth bubbles up behind a bitten grin, lip firmly tucked between your teeth.
"No!" you shout back, feigning indifference; though when he swings your bedroom door open, you’re overcome with breathy giggles—his hair is tossed around at all angles, puffed cheeks pink and gasping.
Now that was the man you fell in love with.
"Somebody's eager," you tease, chucking your phone somewhere on the bed. His eyes are oddly fearful when you lift yourself up from the comforter, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. His chest heaves, breath labored and shaky; flighty fingers find the knot of his tie, yanking it loose. You reel your head back. Since when does he wear a tie? You flick your gaze down his figure. Since when does he wear suits?? Your confusion only festers as he lets out an anxious chuckle, wringing his hands like wet rags.
"You have no idea." You didn’t know—didn’t know what he was about to risk. His heart was clay in your hands, and with the delicacy of a butterfly's wing, you pressed your fingerprints into his skin. For now, through touch alone, his soul will find you in every lifetime; but first, he must promise you himself in this one, and that appeared to be an impossible feat.
It's now or never, he tells himself.
So, with an arduous breath, he steadies his quivering hands just long enough to slip his phone out of his back pocket. Was it just him, or is it suddenly really hot in here? He swipes to YouTube. Why was it getting so hard to breathe?? He presses play. His heart somersaults its way down to his stomach when the opening melody echoes from the speakers. Your brows lift, lips pursing in your signature concentrated quirk. His mouth forms around a smile, breathing getting marginally easier, but that peace is short-lived as the chorus begins—only then does he feel the symptoms of real fear.
In every lifetime, his warm voice melts from the speaker.
A falling star just shot from space and hit you directly in the chest, rendering you utterly speechless; even as your gaze finds his glassy eyes, you just can’t believe it.
In every lifetime you swore.
It’s just too perfect.
So, for as long as I may live, I wanna be yours.
He’s just too perfect.
In every lifetime I'll dip my knee down.
There’s no way.
And yet he sinks to one knee, slipping a velvet box from the confines of his pocket. Your hands make purchase around your mouth, stifling a wet cry.
In every lifetime I'll ask to be yours.
"Y/N L/N, will you marry me?"
You drop to your knees, tears tracing cordate-shaped rivulets down your cheeks. "Yes, Han, I'll marry you! I'll marry you!"
Your lips swear forever as they land on his, and that promise echoes far into lifetime number twelve.
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ᡣ𐭩 felix + giving you gum wrapper hearts
Lee Felix was stupid in love, heavy on the stupid, figuring he was about to start World War Three to get that gum wrapper out of Seungmin’s hand.
“Please,” Felix begs, drawing out the "e" in an obnoxious whine.
Felix has been professing his love for you through gum wrapper hearts for about as long as he’s been chewing gum, so he is going to be damned if he lets one gum wrapper gets away without meeting his fingers first. Seungmin’s eyes harden into an frustrated glare, about two seconds away from punching a pizza-sized hole in his best friend’s face.
“You know, the more that you beg me for this wrapper, the more I don’t want to give it to you,” he deadpans, voice flat with irritation. Felix throws his head back in an ear-splitting groan.
“Whyyy not??”
“Oh my gosh, Seungmin, just give him the damn wrapper,” Chan interjects, exasperated.
“Yeah, listen to Chan. Give Felix the wrapper,” Felix teases, laying his chin on his hand, fluttering his lashes with a shit-eating grin. Seungmin clenches his jaw, crumpling up the foil—much to poor Lixie’s dismay.
“Did you see that, Chan?! Seungmin crumpled my wrapper!” Seungmin squeezes it harder. “Look! Do you see that, Chan?! Seungmin is bullying me!” Chan sighs, digging a knuckle into his eye. He is about five seconds away from sticking both grown toddlers in time out.
“Seungmin, for the sake of my sanity, give Felix the damn gum wrapper.” The fact that he actually had to tell two full-fledged adults that was truly beyond him, yet here he was.
“It’s the principle of it, old man—” As soon as the words leave his lips, Seungmin wants to stuff them right back in. Chan grits his teeth, steam practically whistling from his ears.
Oh, crap.
“You little—” Chan dives for Seungmin, to which he squeals, ducking from his elder’s hand, gearing up to smack him square in the forehead. In the clamber of movements, he ends up dropping the beloved wrapper. Felix lets out a squeal of excitement, lunging for the foil. When the crumpled aluminum sits in his hands, he has never felt so rewarded in his entire life, smiling like he just won a million bucks.
Almost out of muscle memory, he begins smoothing it out, folding up all the right corners. He beams, stuffing the little token into his pocket, fingers itching to give it to you later.
“Thanks, Seungmin,” Felix smirks, taking a proud sip of his drink. Seungmin manages to stick his tongue out while trapped in a headlock.
“You suck,” he wheezes, throwing weak slaps onto Chan's bicep. Felix giggles, his phone buzzing against his jeans. Felix quite literally drops everything to pick it up, his heart singing the same song as your special ringtone.
From: My world 💙 Look, baby, isn’t it so beautiful? I took the pic while I was on my way to work. I actually swerved off the road to take the picture, haha. Just wanted to share it with you. Love you, baby!! [Image.png]
When he clicks the image, his phone is flooded with the most breathtaking view. The sky is stained like melting ice cream, cotton candy colors that burst around your hair, though that isn’t what Felix is looking at—he is looking at you. The moment he looks into your lopsided smile, Cupid shoots him all over again.
From: My star-light 🌟 Wow.
From: My star-light 🌟 No words.
From: My star-light 🌟 I didn’t know my girlfriend could look so stunning.
From: My star-light 🌟 Oh, wait, there was a sunset back there somewhere.
From: My star-light 🌟 Yeah, that was pretty too.
From: My star-light 🌟 Are we still on for tonight?? I miss youuu.
From: My world 💙 Oh my gosh, Lix, you’re making me blush, haha.
Seungmin chokes somewhere in the background. Felix doesn’t notice. Felix is submerged in the silky ocean of rose-colored love.
From: My world 💙 Of course we are!!
From: My world 💙 I miss you too, baby!!
From: My world 💙 Literally can’t wait to see you.
Felix is mid-text when his friends suddenly turn bright red, clambering to untangle themselves from the mess of limbs they got themselves stuck in. Felix doesn’t realize the reason Chan is suddenly fixing his hair or Seungmin is unruffling his shirt is because two of the most stunning women just walked past them. Felix was too focused on making time move faster.
ᡣ𐭩
Felix has never been to space, though he can accurately say that he has tasted the sky.
He sips the stars off your lips, every shared breath an inhale of the galaxy. Felix knows that somewhere, someplace time exists, but not here, not now, not with the blades of grass lacing through his hair; not when he’s pressing your chest flush against his, rolling around on the ground until the night sky is kissing the earth in his vision. Your laughs are buried in his neck when he gets too dizzy to continue, littering kisses on the sensitive flesh there. You pull away for only a moment, brushing a rogue strand of hair off his brow. You smile, dipping to press a soft peck to the tip of his nose.
The two of you had crept into this darkened backyard hours ago; you proposing a date under the stars only to share them between your lips instead. You have been locked in this position for lifetimes, and Felix has no plan to stop.
His palms lift to graze your cheeks before sealing your mouths together again. His soft laugh puffs against the seam of your lips, his smile curving against your own. “God, I am so in love with you.”
He was; he so, so, so was.
He was so in love with you, he had almost forgotten about his gift. Key word: almost.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” he gasps, chasing your warmth when he pulls away, sitting up.
“What?” you playfully whine, biting back a grin, settling your hips against his thighs. He chuckles, poking a finger into his pocket, fishing out the gum wrapper heart.
“I know it’s not perfect,” he whispers, cupping something in his palm, “but I hope you still like it.” He rolls his fingers out bashfully, offering you the crinkled silver heart. He bites his lip, a faint blush falling over the apples of his cheeks. The little gift was by no means perfect; it was ripped, wrinkled, and just a little lopsided. Yet you can’t help the fondness that explodes in your chest. Still cradling the heart with care, you throw your arms around his neck, tackling him to the ground. Your chest flush against his, he grunts when you land upon the earth, smacking slobbery kisses all over his face. You don’t stop, not until he is flipping you over, now attacking you with equally wet kisses. Your giggles live in the balmy summer air.
To you, he was the sun; but to him, you were the universe 
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ᡣ𐭩 seungmin + buying you a bouquet every time the old ones wilt
October 11th, 2020.
That was the last time your apartment smelled like something other than florals. That was also the first time Seungmin had ever bought you flowers—a simple gift for your one-year anniversary that spiraled into a four-year tradition. You don’t ever talk about it, and he certainly denies it, when you thank him for how the wilting tulips magically evolved into beautiful daylilies. You find it endearing, the faint blush that falls over his cheeks when he tries to convince you that it wasn’t him.
Now that you think about it, your white roses did seem to have a little bit of brown on them yesterday.
Mid-wipe of the bathroom counter, you rush down the stairs, almost sliding into the kitchen in your socks. Without fail, there they were: bright red tulips, replacing the withering roses that had been in the vase earlier. A spreading grin pulls at your lips as you check the stove clock, quickly connecting the dots.
You had been cleaning the bathroom most of the evening, your earbuds blocking the world out. He had probably heard you humming from upstairs, choosing the perfect time to sneak in through the door. You squeal, sprinting up the stairs to throw open your bedroom door. You expect to find him lounging on the bed, but instead, you find him below it, cradling a square object in his hands. His head whips around, panic falling over his features. He slams the lid shut before fumbling to shove it right back under the bed, much to your dismay.
“Hey, what?” You yelp, diving for the box. Seungmin blocks you, accidentally knocking it out of his hands, unfurling its contents all over the floor.
It looks like a garden just threw up in your bedroom.
Hundreds, thousands of differently shaped petals are scattered on your floor, tufts of colorful memories spread out like a silky scroll. First, you freeze. Then, you gasp; your muscles thawing like a flower unfurling in the snow. It hits you slowly, blossoming in your chest and spilling from your eyes—Seungmin hasn’t been throwing away the flowers he bought you. He’s been collecting them.
You didn’t realize you were crying—not until you spoke—“Seungmin, what is this?”—then you heard it, your voice withering and wet. When you finally go to meet his gaze, he can’t seem to look at you, tilting his head down in shame.
“W-Well I-I’ve just…” he begins, trailing off with a rub of his burning neck. “Fuck, this is going to sound so stupid,” he flushes, staring down at the single yellow petal that fluttered onto his folded thighs. Suddenly, Seungmin feels your thumb brushing over his knuckles, and something shoots through his skin, something that straightens his spine and evens his breathing.
“I-I’ve um…” This was harder than he thought it would be. “Been collecting them for a while now, I wanted to keep them for when we get married. Wanted to scatter them down the aisle…”
His voice gets smaller with every word, sinking into himself as though that will make the gravity of the sentence less exposed, less raw. For a second, as silence stretches between you, Seungmin feels so stupid, embarrassment painting his cheeks red. You must think he’s such a fool, must think he’s crazy for ever believing he could marry you—his thoughts stop the moment your lips meet his, palms pressed firmly against his cheeks.
“I love you,” you whisper in between breaths, kissing him until it feels like you can’t kiss anymore; until he falls back upon the feathery bed made of magnolias and memories; until, with a star-lit sigh, he pulls away, untucking the red of a dried rose tangled above your brow. Even surrounded by God's most beautiful creations, he can’t bring his gaze to fall from yours, your eyes and all the mesmerizing sparkles they hold.
Seungmin couldn’t trace the exact moment he fell in love with you. Rather, it bloomed slowly over time, a feeling that took root; wrapping around the slabs of his ribs.
With you, he grew, and all of a sudden, with every breath he inhales, he finds you fluttering in his chest. At first, it terrified him. Though, now he knows—some gardens never die.
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ᡣ𐭩 jeongin + stalking your goodreads profile to annotate your favorite books
“So, you’re a stalker, huh?” you muse, brushing your palm over Jeongin’s shoulder, which was clearly not a good idea, cause no sooner do you make contact is he jumping twenty feet out of his skin. You throw your hands up when he swivels around, ripping off his headphones like they were going to materialize into a baseball bat.
“Crap, y/n, you scared the hell out of me,” Jeongin pants, a relieved smile pulling on his cheeks; grateful that the intruder was indeed his girlfriend and not a 6-foot-tall man in a scream mask. For a second, he wonders if you’re possessed, a lopsided smirk playing on your lips while you tweak out, kind of laughing, kind of nodding, kind of looking like you need an exorcism. Then it hits him. Hits him like a 200-pound dump truck, rendering him breathless once more. He puts Flash to shame by how fast he slams his laptop shut, scrunching his face in cringe. The laugh you let out is devastating, a full-belly guffaw that makes you double over, stumbling straight into his arms.
For a second, when the lamplight hits you just right, Jeongin has to stop.
His breath catches in his throat, taking all of you in. There you were, with your hair falling in messy tangles, your eyelids slightly smudged in black, your smile boxy and sun-bright, you were perfect, and you were sitting on his lap. If you didn’t start talking, he would have stared at you for hours—probably would have started drooling as well.
“So, this is how you’ve known all my favorite books, huh?” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck. It takes him a hot second to gather himself, heart fluttering at the newfound proximity.
He stuffs his head into your neck, the heat of his cheeks burning into your skin. “Yeah…is that weird?”
“Is it weird?? Yang Jeongin, I’m pretty sure you just inadvertently proposed to me,” you reply, your tone light-hearted though you're dead serious.
“What?” He chuckles with a shy smile, leaning back.
“Yeah, I mean, you stalk your girlfriend’s Goodreads profile to read and annotate her TBR list. That is a proposal. I don’t make the rules.”
“Is that so?” he smirks, inching forward, your noses brushing together.
“Yeah,” you whisper, hot breath fanning across his lips, you lean in, finally sealing your mouths shut. Jeongin groans, your thumb swiping the nape of his neck. His heart pounds with a thousand different translations of 'I love you'.
“How many?”
He hums, slamming back down to earth, still a little bit dizzy.
“How many books have you bought?”
That sobers him up.
His eyes widen slightly before he bashfully chuckles, awkwardly scratching his ear. “Oh, uh…not that many.”
“Can I see them?” He’s two seconds from saying no, until you brush your lips against his cheeks, then his forehead, then the sides of his eyes, before, finally, he is tasting your grin instead, “Please?”
Well, how can he say no now?
He fiddles with the bottom of your shirt, biting his lip before sighing and pointing under his bed. “They’re all under there.”
You squeal, clambering off him to dive at the foot of his bed, sticking your hands into the dusty abyss below. It doesn’t take you but five seconds to find the box, though it takes you 5 minutes to actually pull the damn thing out, feeling more like a dead body than dead trees.
However, when you flip open the lid, the struggle is all worth it. Your jaw drops. Jeongin’s stomach flips upside down.
"Yang Jeongin, there’s no way..." You peer at him through dewy lashes, there had to be at least fifty books in this container. "You were planning on giving me all of these?"
"Well, yeah. Just...when I had enough time to annotate them."
"You've already given me like 10. How have you found enough time to read them?"
"I read them every night before I go to bed."
"And annotate them?"
He clears his throat, a faint blush falling over his cheeks like rose petals. "Yes."
"Where did you get the money for all this? These books have to have been like a thousand dollars."
"My check had just come in, and I knew how much you liked to read... I just wanted to do something nice for you. Why is this starting to feel kind of like an interrogation? Are you mad? Is this, like, really weird?" Jeongin can feel his eyes widen, anxiously shifting in place.
“One more question,” you step forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. He shutters when you make contact, gaze fluttering down. Jeongin expects you to laugh, maybe demand that he takes them back, or the worst of them all tell him he’s too obsessed. What he doesn’t expect you to do is drag him forward, and smash your lips together.
“How are you so perfect?” you exhale, puffing onto his lips like a breath of his own. He was going to show you how, he was going to show you how all night long.
ᡣ𐭩
If you thought he was perfect then you definitely think he is perfect now.
The sun slips through the curtains, dyeing your sweaty skin in gold; your mouth is nuzzled into his neck, lashes tickling his skin every time you shift. He draws phantom circles over your naked waist, savoring this moment, soaking your body in until he can remember the feel of your form through memory alone. You stir, feeling his heartbeat pick up.
It must have been a dream that urged you to say it, because somewhere, on the edge of sleep, you murmur, “What’s your favorite story?”
He didn’t have to think about the answer, not when he had thought about it a million times before. Without hesitation, Jeongin whispers, “Ours.”
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(I rushed tf out of some of these I'm sorry)
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acid-ixx · 1 month ago
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update and story excepts
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guys i swear if i post chapter 4 sooner for my series: again &. again, soon, will that revive the yandere batfam/dc tag because i swear i've been consuming less content of it both lately and sadly 💔 like it's a bit dead ngl. ill reply to asks once i'm done with ch.4 istg
and yes, i'm back from my short hiatus again to announce this. and it's 3:30am but i dont care teehee. anyways, if i do post a new chapter expect it to be this week and that's final for once, since i've kept all of you guys waiting so long, i'm so sorry :(( i swear it's me trying to gain confidence through my writing and i don't know if i like chapter 4 or not. all i do know is that it's one of the most emotionally draining chapters so expect triple the angst, yippee!
anyways, excepts from the chapter below the line break:
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DICK'S THOUGHTS:
he sighs, resigning his thoughts all to himself as he checks his phone every minute for a simple ring of notifications just from you. he prefers to leave his phone in silent mode from the multitude of other contacts bothering him, but god forbade if that means he'd scroll past to a single reply of yours, then he'd rather burn in hell.
dick doesn't know it. why he's suddenly obsessed with you. you? yes you, his stupidly precious sibling, the one who looked up to him, frail and wronged by the world, with so much drive behind that stare. third child of bruce, yet second youngest in the family. the one that got away, the one he has never once saw outside that one memory of glinting, awe-inspired eyes that told more stories than poets, drew more emotions than artists.
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CONNER'S SCENES:
"you're hot," and if you were sober enough, you would've felt sheer embarrassment and shame from eyeing the boy, but you're not— and because you're not sober, or any bit sane, the next few sentences you spewed out were all coherent, yet wonkily pronounced utterances paired with teary eyes and sniffling nose, as you can't seem to control the feelings of melancholy in your heart and the sudden emotional burst from your ramblings.
"thank you, you too, actually— but are you alright-"
"haha! is it strange to say that you look so cute whenever you look at me with wide eyes in the short span of time we just met?"
"it's conner, conner kent. call me kon, though. or yours if it's you."
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BATHROOM BREAKDOWN P.T.2 PRIOR TO CLUBBING
you don't remember the last time you looked in a mirror, looking healthy, fresh, and proud of yourself for dressing up in your style. in the back of your mind, there will always be hatred, resentment for how you look. and right now, you hate how you every bit of your appearance because...
because you look exactly just like an image of your mother and bruce wayne. a reminder, your punishment for your parents' beautifully tragic affair with one another. a billionaire who courted.the lowly dirt-class slut of gotham.
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(spoilers: expect shit to go down with jason todd with you, and him with the family, and a good 4k words of you flirting with conner before actual shit goes down)
leave comments down below if you do like the direction this story is coming to! otherwise, thank you all for reading my series and supporting it from the start !! <33
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littledigits · 1 year ago
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Its hard to describe the complex emotions I'm having today, its a mixture of bittersweet sadness, feirce proudness, and everything deeper that comes from having put yourself and your emotions into a show for so many years. I'mm do the thank you thing below - but words dont really do it justice.
THANK YOU to my core Team, you know who you all are, for giving me trust, room to grow, patience and guidance when I made mistakes. All of the support you have given me I will pay forward, because it was only with your trust in me that I could leave this show as strong and confidant as I am. Within that core team there is a very smol team of 4 Special people. Andy Coyle, Chantal Ling, Johnny and Kathleen Mckinnon. I will never forget our nights in the editing room in season 1, grabbing some drinks and pizza as we go through the roughcuts. There were ups and downs but I'm glad to have gone through the chaos with ya'll <3 THANK YOU. To every single person who has touched this project, from the very first pitch to the very last file conform. Our crew has been world wide, and while I dont know everyone, I see and appreciate the work and heart you have put into your time with us. I dont care if you were on the show for a day or a decade, you're a part of it, and I dont take that for granted. THANK YOU to the team at Atomic Cartoons for your work in season 1, and the team at Lighthouse Studios for the animation team who came on season 1 and 3. You all rose to an immense challenge. The Hilda animation team is more then just Mercury, and i'm proud to have worked with you. There are people on the show who look back on it fondly, but counter to that there are people who were not supported how they should have been. I want those people to know that I will take these experiences and push to be better always, your experiences are as valid. THANK YOU to the fans! I see your hype and art and theorys and stories. I hope you will enjoy the wild ride of this last season, but I also hope you all ignore 'canon' and just create to your hearts content. The world lives on, there are still secrets and folklore and mystery - they are now yours to build <3 I could write more, I could write NOVELS, but I think people who know me know how I feel so I will refrain from rambling. Take a breath, and try not to sob at everyone writing beautiful things about what the show meant to them. ( spoiler alert, im going to fail )
Thank you all for being a part of this adventure - Where shall we go next ?
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c0eu4 · 1 year ago
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OP81 | Secret relationship
Summary: Y/n and Oscar are in a secret relationship, nobody knows about them. Until they are caught.
Warning: secret relationship, y/n is Toto's daughter, sexual allusion, sex discussion
A/N: Not my fav but I really wanted to write one like that.
MASTERLIST requests are open
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Oscar just got P2 for Sunday's race. When y/n saw this, she didn't show any emotion, since both Mercedes drivers were out in q2. But deep inside, she was jumping for joy. She used the excuse of being angry to walk very quickly into the McLaren garage, impatiently waiting for Oscar to return.
When she saw him arrive, his hair wet from the sweat, his helmet in his hand and his suit open at the top, she thought she was going to cum right away.
He walks past her, as if she were a stranger, but grabs her hand firmly to force her to follow him. She acts as if nothing happened and quickly follows him. He directs them to their little weekend corner, behind a building where no one passes.
His hands slide to her hips, pinning her against the wall and pressing his lips to hers at the same time. She responds to the kiss by adding a few small movements of her lips, her hands resting at the base of his neck, pulling him towards her.
His lips leave hers, moving to her neck, biting it while trying not to leave any marks there.
She runs her fingers through his hair, whispering to his ear, ''I'm so proud of you, my love.'' He presses his hips against hers, biting lower towards her collarbone. A little whine escapes her mouth, as she tries to not be too loud.
''People are waiting for you Osc-'' He didn't let her finish by kissing her again, introducing his mouth to explore her inner cheeks. As he tries to bring their bodies even closer, they hear someone calling for Oscar. ''Oscaaaaar!! Where are youuu!!???'' Lando is looking for him.
He breathes in displeasure into their kiss, breaking it in the process. She puts her hands on his cheeks, forcing him to turn his head to kiss him on the cheek.
''He can't do anything without you, can he? I'm going to start getting jealous.'' He chuckled, kissing her one last time. ''OSCAAAAAAAR'' They look at each other and burst in a silent laugh.
They quickly calm down, having to return to their occupation. ''Meet me in my room tonight at 9 p.m.'' He winks at her, leaving first.
''What the hell were you doing behind a building?'' She heard Lando asking Oscar. ''Just visiting you know.'' She giggles. He's such a bad liar. ''Mate did you wear red lipstick?'' Her eyes widen, knowing that her red lipstick might stick to Oscar's lips. ''You can be so weird sometimes Lando.'' She hears their voices fading little by little, telling her that she can come out of hiding.
She watches them leave from behind and walks quickly towards the Mercedes garages.
🏎️_ _ _ _ _
She wakes up the next morning, Oscar against her, completely naked. She looks at the time on her phone, 8am. She is dead. The probability of meeting someone in the hotel corridors at this hour is immense. They shouldn't have had so much fun the night before and she would have woken up at the usual time, to return to her room without being seen.
She gets up quickly, trying not to wake Oscar but despite that, he groans in displeasure, ''Y/n ?''. She doesn't answer him, rummaging around the room for her clothes. She quickly puts them on, putting her jewelry back on in a hurry.
''You're leaving?'' He looked at her, his hair completely messy and his eyes half closed. ''Yes love, it's already 8am.'' He gets up from the bed quickly, getting up to get dressed himself. ''Oh no no no.. That's bad.. I'm so sorry..'' She giggles and puts on her ear ring, ''It's ok kitty.'' She approaches him and kisses him. As she turns towards the door, he lightly slaps her butt, making her laugh again.
She slowly opens the door and sticks her head in. She looks from left to right, no one. She leaves the room, closing the door behind her.
Walking to her room, she tries to quickly put her hair back into place. As she turns the corridor, she comes face to face with Georges and Carmen. Why does this have to happen to her? She passes by them, head slightly lowered, avoiding any contact with them.
''Hey Y/n, you decided to get up early this morning.'' Carmen is an adorable woman who doesn't hesitate to get news from others. But this is a really bad time for y/n.
''Oh ehm yeah yeah ahah. Sorry but I have something really important to do.'' She says, walking really fast to her hotel room.
Georges and Carmes look at her strangely, not trying to understand any further. Once she is calm in her room, she can breathe.
She looks for her phone in her pocket. How stupid she can be sometimes. She forgets her phone at Oscar's bedroom.
_ _ _
As y/n leaves Oscar's room, he goes into the shower and gets ready as usual. He makes his bed and notices y/n’s phone on the nightstand. He chuckles, just imagining her face when she realized it. He takes it with him, deciding that he will give it back to her before leaving to go to the track.
He finishes getting ready, checks his backpack and leaves his room. He walks quietly, as if nothing happened towards y/n's room, her phone in his hand. He knocks on the door. No answer. He knocks again. Still no answer.
He sighs and decides to give it back to her at the track. Even if it was riskier with all the journalists hovering around him.
He puts her pink phone in his pocket, already heading towards the elevator. He calls it and gets inside. One personnel from Mercedes is already there. He looks weirdly at Oscar as he enters the elevator.
Oscar says hello to him, he doesn't answer. ''A good start to the day'' he said to himself, finding himself smiling at his think.
The elevator arrives at the ground floor, Oscar leaves quickly, not wanting to stay any longer in this awkward place.
He quickly joins the track by car, enters the McLaren paddocks and goes to say hello to the whole team. He still notices that some people continue to look at him strangely. Some time later, Lando arrives. He also says hello to everyone but quickly starts talking with Oscar.
''Next time, try to be more discreet.'' Oscar feels himself blushing. But what is he talking about? He hopes it's not because of the wonderful night he just had. The hotel walls are supposed to be soundproof.
''What are you talking about?'' He manages to ask him. ''A video of you coming up to me from behind a building and then of y/n Wolff coming out of the exact same place as you is making the rounds on the internet.'' Oscar catches his breath, relieved that it's not what he was thinking. But he quickly starts to panic again, having to find y/n as quickly as possible.
''Oh no no no no.. that's really bad.'' He leaves Lando, already heading towards the Mercedes garage. Lando follows him, trying to continue the conversation. ''Oh my god is it real?'' He teases Oscar by pushing him softly with his shoulder.
Oscar groan in displeasure. ''It's been like.. for over 5 months that we're dating and it's only now that you notice it?'' Lando jumped out of joy. ''How did I manage not to see anything!?''
Oscar doesn't care about Lando and continues walking to the Mercedes garage. He finds y/n there, headphones on her ears, her father next to her. He pats her shoulder and simply give her phone back.
Then he quickly leaves to prepare for the race, feeling Toto's gaze on him. He just hears him ask y/n a question, ''So is it serious between you?'' but doesn't hear y/n's response.
🏎️_ _ _ _ _
She stares at the big screen in front of her, her eyes wide and full of hope. He crosses the finish line, second. She is so proud of him. Without even thinking about the consequences, she runs to the barrier to cheer him as he gets out of his car, arms up proudly.
She looks at him, stars in her eyes as he runs into the arms of his team, cheering and congratulating him. He takes off his helmet when he sees her. With a big smile on his lips, he approaches her. She places her hands on his cheeks and kisses him tenderly, under the amazed eyes of thousands of people.
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bloody-cupcakes · 5 months ago
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omg wait what about dark reader play fighting with jd until you have him pinned to like the bed or something and teasing him when he starts to get turned on?
I think I'm starting to make the reader meaner and meaner with each one of these asks, and I don't even feel bad about it. Also I had to cut jump the scene to right after they started play fighting because I have no idea how to write that honestly 😭
Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, noncon/dubcon elements, heavily suggestive, play fighting, brief grinding, mean reader (they make fun of JD for being horny), swearing, JD's a little bit of a pervert in this one
"Aha, got you!"
A proud grin was on your face as you successfully pinned JD down to the bed. He seemed a little miffed about "losing", only agreeing to do this in the first place because he thought for sure he'd win.
"Yeah, great," he grumbled with an eye roll, squirming slightly at the way your hands were holding down his wrists. "Now get off."
"Wait a minute-"
He scoffed in annoyance at your refusal to move right away, starting to feel more and more frustrated by the second. As you would soon come to find, that wasn't the only thing he was feeling currently.
"-dude, are you hard right now?"
He felt his face heat up at your question, trying to ignore just how much the answer was clearly yes. He could feel it, and now you could feel it, too.
But he didn't want to admit it, so he decided to lie through his teeth instead. "N- no..."
"You sure about that?" You smirked while pressing your knee further into his crotch, feeling the way his cock seemed to jolt forward and stiffen up in his pants at the action.
"St- stop-" He mumbled as he turned his head away, avoiding your gaze while his cheeks flushed bright red.
"Oh my God, you are." A sudden laugh erupted from your throat the moment you realized just how aroused he was, which did nothing but make him feel more embarrassed.
"S- shut up! It's not funny!" He tried to protest, the scowl he had on his lips immediately falling away when your knee forcefully rubbed against his groin.
It was now your turn to roll your eyes at him and the way he was acting. "Oh, don't be such a baby. You're fine."
"I- I'm serious, knock it off-" He tried to push you off him but you had firmly planted your body on top of his, your hands still pinning down his wrists at his sides.
"Or what? You'll shoot me?" You openly mocked, giving him a look of feigned fear. "Oh no, I'm so scared."
The embarrassment he felt about the current situation was quickly beginning to give way to another emotion he was much more well acquainted with: rage.
"Yeah, you know what? I just might."
If it had been anyone else, they would've gotten off him immediately. Hell, if it had been anyone else they wouldn't even risk play fighting with him to begin with.
But you weren't just anyone else, meaning you weren't scared of him, so despite the glare he was staring up at you with you did the exact opposite of what someone else might do and ignored him.
"Y'know, if I had of known you'd get so worked up over something as simple as play fighting-" you leaned down closer so that your face was mere inches away from his "-I would've done this a long time ago."
"Fuck you," he spit out angrily through gritted teeth as he tried his best not to give in to the arousal that was coursing through his body.
Merely shrugging, you responded calmly with, "Well, I mean, if you insist. I wasn't planning on going any further here, but if you really want to-"
Starting to become sick and tired of your teasing, he attempted to push you off him for a second time. Unlike when he first tried to do it, it actually worked, but that was only because you willingly let go.
You snickered in delight at his red face and heavy breathing, watching as he tried to pull himself together between all the dirty looks he shot you. It was clear you weren't worried or bothered by his anger from the way you casually leaned back, relaxing as you rested your hands behind your head.
"The next time you get hard from me being that close to you, I'll force you to cum in your pants for being such a dirty little pervert."
JD had no idea whether your words were meant to be a threat or a promise, and although he knew he should feel offended by them he couldn't help the shiver of pleasure that ran down his spine.
He could only hope you hadn't been able to tell how he did actually cum in his pants, which was why he shoved you off him in the first place.
If you knew just how difficult it was for him to be close to you without getting a hard-on, you'd never let him live it down.
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a-dauntless-daffodil · 9 months ago
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can u guess which gif will be at the end of this. can you guess. i'll bet at least a few of you can guess XD
Charlie: "New plan- group bonding through shared, SAFE, suffering!"
Alastor: “Oh joy~”
Husk: "Not this fucking shit again."
Angel Dust: "Well hey as long as it's consensual sufferin'~"
Niffty: (lifts arms at vaggie) "YEEET ME!!!"
Vaggie: "Ughh... no."
Niffty: "Aww."
Vaggie: "I'm never living that one down am I?"
Charlie: "Vaggie, you don't need to live anything down EVER-"
Alastor: "Cough cough! Lied to her girlfriend for three years, cough cough!"
Angel Dust: "Dude you're not supposed t' SAY cough."
Husk: “That’s the part you’re fucking annoyed at?”
Charlie: "-and the POINT is, your whole idea about going through hell to trust the people who go through it with you? Not entirely on the wrong track!"
Vaggie: "Yaaay."
Husk: "You fucked up but for the right un-shitty reasons."
Vaggie: "Great. Thanks."
Charlie: "SO! We're all gonna share the worst work day of our lives with each other!"
Niffty: "Share?" (excited) "By INFLICTING them on each other!?"
Charlie: "Talking, Niffty. We're going to, talk about them."
Niffty: "Aww...."
Husk: "Is there a time limit."
Angel Dust: "Is there a rating limit?"
Alastor: (thoughtful) "Does it still count as a terrible work day if I was able to murder them at the end of it?"
Charlie: "Uhhhh-"
Vaggie: "How 'bout we stick to how it made us feel, rather than all the... X rated... gory details?"
Niffty: (sighs) (slumps over) "This is my worst most terrible work day ever.."
Charlie: "And how do you FEEL about it?"
Niffty: "Sad..."
Vaggie: "I'll let you use my spear for roach hunting after this."
Niffty: (bouncing up) "OH THE EMOTIONS! WHATEVER ONES YOU WANT FROM ME I DON'T CARE, I HAVE THEM!!!"
Husk: "What the fuck."
Angel Dust: "Yeesh."
Charlie: "Okay that's, that's enough sharing from you. Good, um, good job!"
Niffty: "Spear spear spear-"
Charlie: "Well MY worst work day was definitely the one where we were besieged by an army of murderous angels heaven-bent on the full scale slaughter of most of my family! And they actually did kill one! Yeah- that." (laughs) "That fucking sucked and I hated it!"
Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty: (GASP)
Charlie: "What? What??"
Angel Dust: "You said the "H" word, toots.."
Vaggie: "She said a lot more than that while writing an angry text to heaven afterwards."
Charlie: "Hey! You checked the text for me- you know I was polite!"
Vaggie: "Charlie, it was the most aggressively polite 'fuck off' anyone's ever written in the history of all creation. I’m so proud of you for it."
Charlie: "Heh."
Alastor: “Cough get a room please cough.”
Angel Dust: “’m TELLING YOU that’s NOT how it’s supposed ‘t WORK you're not supposed t' SAY IT-”
Charlie: "Ah-hem. Um. Husk? Worst work day-?"
Husk: "Still living it."
Hotel Crew: "....."
Husk: "...but you stupid fuckers are keeping me company through it, so, fucking thanks I guess."
Charlie: (tearful) "Oh Husk. That's so..."
Angel Dust: "Love you too, Mr. Whiskers~"
Husk: "Shut the fuck up."
Vaggie: "Hey."
Husk: "Him, not her. The day your “her” shuts the fuck up is the day we all know we're fucked."
Charlie: "Gosh I hope not." (wipes eyes) "Angel Dust? You wanna...?"
Angel Dust: "My worst shitty day was also my BEST day."
Charlie: (bracing herself) "O...kay...?"
Angel Dust: "A friend came to work an' almost killed the boss for me. Can ya believe that? An' the only reason she didn't open him up a few new 'fun' an' 'interestin' holes of his own was 'cause I had to stop her."
Vaggie: "HELL YEAH!"
Charlie: "You mean-"
Angel Dust: "Yeah. Thanks, apple cheeks. I spent good crack money commissionin' fanart of you wrecking his shit."
Charlie: "WHAT!?"
Vaggie: "You have GOT to let me see that."
Charlie: "VAGGIE!"
Vaggie: "Oh come on, it's better than him buying crack, right?"
Angel Dust: "It def looks waaay better on my wall."
Charlie: "I- that's not-"
Niffty: "Is there BLOOD?"
Charlie: "Oh please don't let there be any-"
Angel Dust: "SO much blood, baby."
Charlie: "Noooo...!"
Vaggie: "Now I really need to see it."
Charlie: "H-WHA?"
Husk: "I really need a fucking drink."
Charlie: "I'm- you know what? I'm pretending I didn't hear any of that. La la la! I have complete deniability!"
Alastor: "That's the spirit! You hardly knew him, certainly never fantasized about decorating him with his own entrails! Just keep reminding yourself of that while hiding the body~!"
Charlie: "NO! Just.... well maybe for him..."
Vaggie: "You're so pretty."
Charlie: (pouting) "We need to commission a piece of you standing over Lute with your spear at her throat. It's not FAIR otherwise."
Vaggie: "Anything for you, babe."
Alastor: "How saccharine. Young love hand in hand, spattered in blood."
Charlie: "A-anyway. Alastor. Your turn."
Alastor: "Hmm. Well, there was the time someone reorganized the reels, somehow without mentioning it to me before air time. And without asking me before hand. But..."
Husk: "Here it comes."
Alastor: "Reorganized their organs for them later that night, likewise unasked, was QUITE fun."
Charlie: "I THOUGHT WE SAID WE COULD JUST TALK ABOUT OUR FEELINGS!"
Alastor: "My feelings?"
Niffty: "PURE UNDILUTED JOY"
Alastor: "Mm no, they didn't scream enough for that..."
Charlie: "AAAAAH!" (covers ears)
Alastor: "Shall we say perhaps, accomplished?"
Vaggie: "Over one murder? Wow. You're sure easy to please."
Alastor: "I've always believed in quality not quantity when it comes to my passion projects. Swift, thoughtless killings are so passé."
Angel Dust: "Y'know, meeting you has really ruined the whole dashing dapper man w' a tinted glass monocle for me. It's that creepy grin. You're a total boner kill."
Alastor: "Oh I do try."
Vaggie: "What about the day you died? Didn't you get fucking shot like a deer, venison a la Alastor?"
Alastor: "Fan of my history, hmm?"
Vaggie: "The TV future about it is pretty funny, not gonna lie."
Alastor: "Ah ha ha! TV DID YOU SAY."
Vaggie: "Vox airs it. Every day."
Alastor: "AND YOU WATCHED IT. HMM?"
Vaggie: "Every. Day."
Angel Dust: "I bring the popcorn and pills."
Husk: "I mix the fucking drinks."
Niffty: "I wish it had more BLOOD!"
Alastor: "ET TU, NIFFTY?"
Charlie: "Okay okay, that's WAY more than enough from you, reel back in the shadow monsters please-"
Alastor: "AHAHAHAH...!" (fades into shadows)
Angel Dust: "Creep. He's prob'ly vaping off to go curse the TV again."
Husk: "For mother fuck. I've got that cooking show coming on tonight. Will smacking the aerial with the angel spear get it working again?"
Vaggie: "Probably...?"
Charlie: "Vaggie!" (desperate) (hopeful) "You have a normal worst day at work to finish this exercise off with, right!?"
Vaggie: "...."
Vaggie: "Uh, well sweetie...."
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cossiedxll · 1 year ago
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"love you to the moon and to saturn"
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| how they love you in their own special ways
| gepard landau x reader, dan heng x reader, blade x reader, kafka x reader, jing yuan x reader, luocha x reader
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˓ ꒱ notes and disclaimers: reader and character are in an established relationship, reader is gender neutral. not proofread!!!
˓ ꒱ authors notes: im trying to write as much as i can here so that my account doesn't go stale if you know what i mean. these are kinda short so i apologise if you were expecting the scenarios to be longer :(
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gepard landau ( 杰帕德 ) *◞
no matter how early he'd have to wake up for work, you'd always wake up to a freshly made breakfast. either on a plate on the dining table or in a lunch box with a little note stuck on it.
"sorry for having to leave so early, i made you this. remember to eat lunch while i'm gone. i love you." with a small, albeit rushed heart at the bottom of the note. if he has enough time he'll even make a smoothie for you!! using some of the fruits you two bought together while grocery shopping. he's always a little self conscious of his cooking so please be sure to let him know how good his cooking is!!
whenever he comes home late, he makes sure to greet you with a soft kiss before removing his armor, he'll always see you as his first priority even if he doesn't know how to say it, you can tell through his actions.
dan heng ( 丹恒 ) *◞
he pats your head whenever he's proud of you. he often doesn't know how to verbalise his emotions towards you, often overthinking about how you'll react to them. so he resorts to patting you on the head to tell you that you've done a good job and that he's proud of you.
his hand was slightly shaking as he reaches for your head, lightly carding his fingers through your hair. you look up at him to ask what's wrong but the faint blush on his cheeks tells you everything.
you turn around to fully face him to give him a kiss on his lips, the hand on your head slightly pushes you closer towards him. it's moments like these that his beyond thankful he's been able to find someone who understands him.
blade ( 刃 ) *◞
he patches you up whenever you get injured after missions. he doesn't trust anyone else to bandage you properly so he does it himself. he's uncharacteristically gentle with his hands, making sure to not wrap the bandages too tightly on your wounds.
few words need to be exchanged between you two but you know he cares deeply about you when the first thing he says to you when you come back from a mission is "come with me." as he gently takes hold of your wrist.
when he's all done with patching you up he takes a second to look at you before gently kissing your forehead. "stop being so careless, i don't like seeing you get hurt." he sighs as he pulls away.
kafka ( 卡芙卡 ) *◞
she kisses you before every mission. she keeps it a surprise every time too, kissing you on the cheek, forehead, the tip of your nose or your lips. it's her own way of saying "come back to me soon." with her gentle kisses. finding your expression adorable every time she decides to mix it up and surprise you.
she doesn't say anything as she hooks a finger under your chin, lips dangerously close to yours. her other arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to her as she places a gentle kiss to your lips. she pulls away with a smile, chuckling at your flustered state as she sends you off.
jing yuan ( 景元 ) *◞
he lets you rest your head on his shoulder as he works, sometimes humming along with the soft melodies that's playing on the record player. he always insists on you choosing the song for the day, even if he doesn't know the song, he's happy that you like it.
his fingers are carded through your hair, every now and then giving the top of your head a little scratch or a mini massage. when he gets tired of constantly having to focus and write out reports, he puts his pen down and leans his head on yours. the hand that was once holding the pen is now wrapped around your waist.
he nuzzles his head into your hair, just in time for his afternoon nap.
luocha ( 罗刹 ) *◞
he always manages to find the perfect little nick nacks for you, ranging from little pendants to jewellery. every piece of jewellery is tailored to fit your skin color. you always insist that it's too much and that you don't need him to keep bringing these to you but he does it anyways
he finds the smile on your face when he brings you something to be so adorable. the slight blush that dusts your cheeks adds to that factor too. if he brought you some rings to try on he'll personally slip them onto your fingers, kissing your hand when he's done.
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notes and reblogs are heavily appreciated !!
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bedoballoons · 10 months ago
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Could I request Wriothesley, Diluc, Childe and Neuvillette feeling sad so their s/o hugs them and pats their head?
This. Is. Perfect.
Thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy it! Apologies it took so long to write!!
─⊰💕𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤💕⊰─
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{༻~Hugs and pets~༺}
CW: GN! Reader, a little angsty at first but turns fluffy fast!
(Included: Diluc, Childe, Neuvillette, and Wriothesley!)
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𑁍༄Diluc:
Diluc rested his head in his hand, staring at the sheets of paper that littered his desk. He'd done this for years and even as thorough as he was, he still made mistakes, this one having affected his workers more then himself...and that was by far the worst kind of mistake. If only his father were here, he could ask him for help..
He perked up when he noticed you walking towards him, a small comforting smile on your face, "Diluc? You know everyone makes mistakes right, no one's upset with you and it truly wasn't as bad as you think.." You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hugging him in attempt to make him feel better. If only he knew how much everyone looked up to him..including yourself.
"I just wish I could do better, be like my father was.." His words sunk in for a moment, it wasn't often he mentioned his father or his feelings so you had to tread lightly on this. "I'm sure he had times like this...and if he were here right now, he'd be proud of how far you've come, how well you're doing. I know it." You placed a reassuring kiss on his cheek and what you said seemed to help as he leaned back to kiss your lips.
"Thank you my love"
𑁍༄Childe:
You smiled down at Childe, your hands slowly running through his soft ginger hair. He wouldn't give you any details about what happened, all he said was he'd gotten himself into a bind and that he needed some time to recover...and he truly did. He had multiple injuries all over his body and even as he rested his head in your lap, eyes closed like he'd fallen asleep, you could tell he was still trying not to think about it.
You wanted to ask him about it, see if you could help, if there was more your could do...but for all you knew...he was just trying to keep you safe, or maybe whatever it was, was to terrible for you to know. For now, you'd just keep petting his head and humming the songs you knew he loved, doing your best to help him forget it all.
𑁍༄Neuvillette:
You wrapped your arms around Neuvillettes waist, a gentle rain now turned into a downpour as he told you about the things he'd seen...to think someone as kind as him had suffered through so many hardships and never once let it out...
"I apologize my dear, you're getting soaked all because of me and my troubles. Perhaps I should-"
"No. I can handle the rain, Fontaine can handle the rain...but you, you cant handle the hurt anymore and you don't have to, you shouldn't have to." You hugged him tighter, feeling like your voice was going to be drowned out by the storm. You were scared, but you loved him and you had to show him you weren't going anywhere.
"I...you're right." You felt his chin rest on your head, his arms moving to embrace you just as tight in return. It was still raining...still soaking through your clothes, but he was feeling better and that's all that mattered.
𑁍༄Wriothesley:
You kissed Wrios cheek before sitting down next to him on his bed, he'd been laying there for a half a hour now, staring at the ceiling without ever saying a word...and it was really worrying you. Of course you'd seen him angry, you'd seen him happy and you'd even seen him utterly confused...but sad or upset? He almost always kept those emotions to himself, never wanting to trouble you with them or upset you in the process.
So how were you supposed to help? Eventually you let out a sigh and laid down on top of him, wrapping your arms losely around his neck as your head rested on his chest. He wasn't really one to use his words so asking him about it wouldn't have got you anywhere, so this was the best option, "I love you Wrio...and I'm here okay."
He sighed in content and finally moved so he could hold you. He didn't respond with words, but you knew he appreciated it nonetheless.
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ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day!~*⁠.⁠✧
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ignitesthestxrs · 1 year ago
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there's something about the way people talk about john gaius (incl the way the author writes him) that is like. so absent of any connection to te ao māori that it's really discomforting. like even in posts that acknowledge him as not being white, they still talk about him like a white, american leftist guy in a way that makes it clear people just AREN'T perceiving him as a māori man from aotearoa.
and it's just really serves to hammer home how powerful and pervasive whiteness and american hegemony is. because TLT is probably the single most Kiwi series in years to explode on the global stage, and all the things i find fraught about it as a pākehā woman reading a series by a pākehā author are illegible to a greater fandom of americans discoursing about whether or not memes are a valid way of portraying queer love.
idk the part of my brain that lights up every time i see a capital Z printed somewhere because of the New Zealand Mentioned??? instinct will always be proud of these books and muir. but i find myself caught in this midpoint of excitement and validation over my culture finding a place on the global stage, frustration at how kiwi humour and means of conveying emotion is misinterpreted or declared facile by an international audience, frustrated also by how that international audience runs the characters in this book through a filter of american whiteness before it bothers to interpret them, and ESPECIALLY frustrated by how muir has done a pretty middling job of portraying te ao māori and the māoriness of her characters, but tht conversation doesn't circulate in the same way* because a big part of the audience doesn't even realise the conversation is there to be had.
which is not to say that muir has done a huge glaring racism that non-kiwis haven't noticed or anything, but rather that there are very definitely things that she has done well, things that she has done poorly, things that she didn't think about in the first book that she has tacked on or expanded upon in the later books, that are all worthy of discussion and critique that can't happen when the popular posts that float past my dash are about how this indigenous man is 'guy who won't shut up about having gone to oxford'
*to be clear here, i'm not saying these conversations have never happened, just that in terms of like, ambient posts that float round my very dykey dash, the discussions and meta that circulate on this the lesbian social media, are overwhelmingly stripped of any connection to aotearoa in general, let alone te ao māori in specific. and because of the nature of american internet hegemony this just,,,isn't noticed, because how does a fish know it's in the ocean u know? i have seen discussions along these lines come up, and it's there if i specifically go looking for it, but it's not present in the bulk of tlt content that has its own circulatory life and i jut find that grim and a part of why the fandom is difficult to engage with.
#tlt#the locked tomb#i don't really have an answer lmao this is more#an expression of frustration and discomfort#over the way posts about john gaius seem to have very little connection to the background muir actually gave him#like you cant describe him as an educated leftist bisexual man#without INCLUDING that he is māori#that has an impact! that has weight and importance!#that is a background to every decision he makes#from the meat wall to the nuke to his relationship with the earth#and it also has weight and importance in the decisions that muir makes in writing him#it is not a neutral decision that he's known as john gaius lmao#it's not a neutral decision that the empire is explicitly of roman/latin extraction#it's not even neutral that this is a book about necromancy#it's certainly not a neutral fucking decision that john was at one point a māori man living in the bush#when the nz govt decided to send cops in#like that is a thing that happens here! that is a reference to nz cultural and political events that informs john's character and actions#and with the nature of who john is in the story#informs the narrative as a whole#and i think the tiresome part of this experience is that#in general#americans are not well positioned to understand that something might be being written from outside their experience as a default#like obviously many many americans in online leftist & queer spaces are willing to learn and take on new information#but so much of the conversation starts from a place of having to explain that forests exist to fish
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solxamber · 1 month ago
Note
Hello!! I absolutely adore your writing and have been reading a lot of it recently 🫶
I have a request, but may follow a more sensitive topic? I was wondering if you could write a fic with Idia, Cater, Rollo (twisted wonderland), or Welt, Ratio, Boothill (honkai star rail) comforting a recovering reader struggling with SH.
I can understand the denial of this request, as it can touch on a sensitive topic, but it would mean a lot to me if you considered it. I've been struggling with this for a while and it would be nice to have some comfort with recovery.
Again, I adore your work and I hope you can consider my request.
Idia, Rollo, Cater and Welt, Ratio, Boothill with a Recovering Reader
Warnings: Mentions of SH
i hope you're doing well now anon. i'm so so proud of you and i'm cheering you on in your recovery. if you wanted something different, please let me know!
it's a sensitive topic that i don't have first hand experience in, so i hope that nothing comes off as insensitive.
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Idia Shroud
It had been one of those days. The weight of everything felt suffocating, and you couldn’t quite shake the heaviness that clung to your chest. The dorm felt too loud despite the silence, and yet somehow still too empty. You needed an escape—something to distract from the gnawing thoughts that tugged at the edges of your mind.
So, naturally, you found yourself at Ignihyde.
You didn’t say much when you got there. It wasn’t like you needed to. Idia was sitting at his usual setup, bathed in the glow of his multiple monitors, tapping away with his game controller. He didn’t glance up, but his fingers paused just for a second.
“You, uh, can sit over there if you want,” he muttered, gesturing vaguely to a cushion beside him. “No big deal, really. You can just… chill.”
You took the offer, sinking into the seat beside him. Idia never pressed for conversation, which you appreciated more than words could express. The quiet was comforting in a way that only he could provide. His presence wasn’t demanding, nor was it suffocating—it was just there, a steady companion when everything else felt too much.
After a few minutes of just the sounds of the game filling the air, Idia spoke again, his voice quieter this time.
“I’m not, like, great at pep talks or anything.” His eyes stayed glued to the screen, a blush dusting his cheeks. “But, like, if you ever… I dunno, need a distraction or something, you can always come by. We can game or… just sit. Whatever works.”
It was such a simple offer, but the sincerity in his voice cut through the haze of your thoughts. You knew Idia wasn’t one for big gestures or emotional outbursts, but his awkward, roundabout way of offering support warmed something deep inside you. He understood—maybe more than anyone else—the desire to escape, to disappear into a world where the problems of reality couldn’t touch you.
The next few times you visited, the routine was the same. Quiet, gaming, the occasional muttered commentary from Idia. But there was something so comforting in the routine, in knowing you didn’t have to explain yourself. That he didn’t expect anything from you, just your presence.
One evening, as the two of you sat in comfortable silence, Idia hesitated, fidgeting with his controller before finally speaking.
“You’re, uh… You’re important, you know that, right? Like, I don’t have many people I’d say that to, but you’re… one of them. Just… don’t disappear, okay?”
The vulnerability in his voice surprised you, and you found yourself blinking back the sting of tears. It was a simple statement, but it held the weight of his affection and worry, wrapped in the awkward delivery that was so uniquely him. You didn’t have to say anything; you knew he wasn’t expecting a response.
Instead, you just stayed. That night, in the warmth of his presence and the soft hum of the game, you felt a little less alone.
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Cater Diamond
You hadn’t realized just how exhausted you were until you found yourself dragged into Cater’s latest selfie spree. He had a way of sneaking up on you with his usual grin and carefree energy, his arm slung casually around your shoulders as he pulled out his phone.
“Hey! How about we grab some quick pics? No filters this time, just the two of us being real.”
Normally, you’d groan, roll your eyes, and let Cater have his fun without thinking much of it. But today, the idea of being in front of a camera, of capturing yourself as you were now, felt… daunting. You hesitated, tugging at the sleeves of your shirt, your eyes downcast.
Cater, as perceptive as ever, didn’t let it slide.
He turned the camera away for a moment, his smile softening just slightly as he glanced at you. “Hey, no pressure, seriously. We don’t have to do the whole selfie thing if you’re not feeling it. I just thought… you know, we could capture some real moments.”
You glanced up at him, noticing the way his usual carefree demeanor had gentled. Cater might act like everything was all fun and games, but he was more in tune with people’s emotions than he let on. He wasn’t forcing you, wasn’t pushing—just offering a moment of distraction, of fun, if you wanted it.
After a long pause, you finally shrugged, offering a small smile. “Okay, one picture.”
Cater beamed, but it wasn’t his usual bright, showy grin. It was soft, genuine, like he understood what a big step this was for you.
The selfie session wasn’t as performative as you’d expected. Cater didn’t force you into poses or try to make you laugh when you weren’t in the mood. He just stood beside you, his arm slung around your shoulders, and snapped a couple of candid photos. There was something comforting in the simplicity of it, in the way he let you just be.
After a while, he pulled back and glanced at his phone, showing you one of the photos. It wasn’t perfect—your smile was a bit lopsided, your hair a little messy—but Cater grinned at it like it was the best picture he’d ever taken.
“See?” he said, his tone light. “No filters needed. You’re perfect just like this.”
The compliment caught you off guard, and you found yourself blinking back tears you hadn’t realized were there. Cater, ever perceptive, noticed immediately and nudged you gently with his shoulder.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said softly. “You don’t have to be ‘camera-ready’ for me. I like you as you are, messy hair and all.”
Later that evening, when you checked your phone, you found the photos he’d sent you. Beneath one of them, he’d written: "Real friends don’t need filters. You’re more than enough, just as you are."
And for the first time in a while, you believed it.
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Rollo Flamme
Rollo had always been the type to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. You admired his conviction, his sense of duty, but today, as you sat beside him in the quiet of the garden, it was hard to find comfort in his seriousness.
You had come to him seeking solace, though you weren’t sure if Rollo’s stoic demeanor would offer the comfort you needed. He wasn’t one for soft words or gentle encouragement, but something about the way he watched the world with such intensity made you feel like he saw through the chaos swirling inside you.
For a long while, the two of you sat in silence, the rustle of leaves the only sound breaking the stillness. You expected Rollo to stay silent, as he often did, but after a moment, he spoke, his voice low but steady.
“There’s a battle you’re fighting,” he said, not looking at you. “A battle within yourself. I understand.”
His words startled you, not because they were untrue, but because they were so unexpectedly... personal. You glanced at him, finding his gaze fixed on the horizon, his expression unreadable.
“I’ve fought similar battles,” he continued, his tone measured. “It’s easy to feel overwhelmed, to believe you’re fighting alone. But you’re not. You never have to be.”
You felt a lump form in your throat at his words, and for the first time, you realized just how much you had been carrying by yourself. Rollo’s offer of support was understated, as was his way, but the sincerity behind it was impossible to ignore.
He finally turned to look at you, his eyes softening just a fraction. “I won’t pretend to understand everything you’re going through. But I’m here. I’ll stand with you, as long as you need.”
The weight of his promise hit you harder than you expected, and without a word, you found yourself leaning into his steady presence. He didn’t flinch or pull away—he simply let you rest, offering the quiet strength you didn’t realize you needed.
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Welt
Welt’s calm demeanor had always been a source of comfort for you, but today, it felt especially grounding. After a long day of battling your inner turmoil, you found yourself seeking him out, hoping his presence could soothe the storm raging inside.
You didn’t have to say anything when you arrived. Welt, ever perceptive, seemed to understand without words. He led you to a quiet spot under the stars, his gaze gentle as he sat beside you.
“The stars have always been a reminder to me,” he said softly, looking up at the sky. “No matter how dark it gets, there’s always light somewhere. You just have to look for it.”
You followed his gaze, the twinkling lights above offering a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in days. The silence between you was comforting, not suffocating, and for the first time in a while, you felt like you could breathe.
Welt turned to you, his expression kind. “You’re not alone in this. Whatever you’re going through, you have people who care about you. And if you ever need a reminder, just look at the stars.”
His words were simple, but they carried a weight of sincerity that made your chest ache. You hadn’t realized just how much you needed to hear that. The stars twinkled above, and you found yourself nodding, tears brimming in your eyes.
“I don’t want to burden anyone,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Welt shook his head, a gentle smile breaking across his face. “You’re never a burden. Reaching out is part of being human. We all have our battles, and sharing them makes them lighter. You have to let others in, even when it feels hard.”
You looked away, feeling the warmth of his presence wrap around you like a comforting blanket. Welt had a way of putting things into perspective, of making you feel seen without demanding anything from you. His understanding was a lifeline, a beacon guiding you through the darkness.
“What if I keep struggling?” you asked, the fear spilling out before you could hold it back.
“Then we’ll face it together,” he replied with quiet confidence. “Every time you feel lost, remember that I’m here, and so are the others. Just like the stars—sometimes hidden, but always there.”
As the cool night air wrapped around you, you leaned into Welt’s side, allowing the silence to envelop you both. You felt the tension in your shoulders ease just a little, the comfort of his unwavering presence bolstering your resolve.
“I’m glad you’re here,” you finally said, your voice steadier.
“Me too,” Welt replied, glancing up at the stars once more. “And remember, no matter how dark it gets, you are never truly alone.”
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Dr. Ratio
Dr. Ratio sits across from you, his expression calm and thoughtful. He’s not the type to rush into emotional outbursts, but the concern in his gaze is unmistakable.
“You don’t have to go through this alone,” he says quietly, voice steady. “I know the weight you’re carrying is immense, but you’re stronger than it.”
You nod, feeling a knot in your chest loosen as he continues. “One step at a time. We’ll make sense of it together. Just know—I’m here for you.”
He reaches out, his hand resting gently on yours. His grip is firm but comforting, grounding you in the moment. The logical part of him is evident in his approach—he breaks things down into manageable pieces, knowing that’s what you need right now.
“There’s no shame in struggling, and there’s no shame in asking for help. It’s okay to feel lost, but you won’t always be. Healing isn’t linear, but each day is progress.”
His words settle over you like a warm blanket, soothing the anxious storm swirling inside. As you lean into his comfort, he offers you a small smile, the kind that tells you things will get better, even if it doesn’t feel that way now.
“You don’t have to have everything figured out today,” he adds, his thumb gently tracing soothing patterns over your skin. “But I’ll be here, however long it takes.”
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Boothill
Boothill isn’t the type to hover, but he knows when someone’s hurting—he’s been there too many times himself. His heavy boots clunk against the floor as he approaches you, sitting down beside you in a quiet, solid presence.
“Life’s got a way of takin' pieces outta you,” he says, voice gravelly. “But you don’t gotta do this alone, partner.”
You look away, unsure of how to respond, but Boothill doesn’t push. Instead, he wraps a comforting arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. It’s a gesture so simple, yet so grounding. You can feel his steady heartbeat, his unwavering support.
“You’re tougher than you think,” he continues, his voice softer now, “but even the toughest folks need a hand sometimes. Ain’t no shame in leanin’ on someone.”
The weight of his words sinks in, and for the first time in a while, you let yourself lean on him, just a little. Boothill’s grip tightens ever so slightly, and he lets out a quiet sigh, as if holding the weight of the world alongside you.
“We’ll get through this, partner,” he murmurs, “one step at a time.”
Boothill isn’t one for long speeches, but the sincerity in his voice is more than enough. You feel the warmth of his presence, the understanding in his quiet demeanor, and for a moment, the weight you’ve been carrying doesn’t feel so heavy.
And with that, you know you’re not alone.
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Masterlist
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03jyh23 · 2 months ago
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🌊⌇such a lonely heart┆kim hongjoong
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married, hongjoong x gn!reader
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│synopsis: if you can't find another reason to stay, then i know i'm gonna always have a lonely heart
│genre: hurt no comfort, angst
│trigger warnings: emotional distress, heartbreak, relationship conflict
│words: 4.1 k
│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.
!minors do not interact!
— hi there my lovely people! it feels like forever since i last posted, and oh god, i’m so happy to be back! my hiatus ended up lasting much longer than i intended, and coming back after such a long time is honestly nerve-wracking. this piece of writing took me a long time to complete, but i’m really proud of it. once again, it’s a hongjoong angst with a personal touch, and i think hongjoong will always have that cathartic role in my stories. i hope you guys can feel the emotions i’ve woven into it. thank you for sticking with me—i can’t wait to hear what you think.
love, mon ♡
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It was late Thursday night. You were curled up on your bed, blanket wrapped tightly around you, staring blankly at the wall. It was unbearable. Was your mind numb, or was it so full of thoughts that they all clashed together, making you feel overwhelmed and empty simultaneously? You let yourself break again, letting the flood of thoughts and feelings consume you whole. You were drowning, unable to stop the spiral of despair that clawed at you. 
Eighteen times. 
Hongjoong ignored your calls eighteen times tonight. 
And that was your breaking point.
You felt the weight of each ignored call like a stone in your chest, pressing down, making breathing hard. The silence from his end was deafening, drowning out even the sound of your own heartbeat. You wondered, with a bitter taste in your mouth, if this was what it felt like to be truly alone. It wasn't anything new, you spent your nights alone, most of them sleepless as the lack of warmth in your husband's body made it impossible to get some rest. After tossing and turning, you would eventually catch a few hours of sleep, only to wake up in an empty bed. The routine had become painfully familiar. The cold sheets on his side of the bed were a constant reminder of his absence. You'd reach out, hoping against hope, but your fingers would only meet the cool fabric, untouched and undisturbed. 
Anyone would have thought you'd get used to it by now - Hongjoong leaving early for his office and coming back too late to spend time with you. But he would always text that he was doing extra hours or going out for a beer with friends. Tonight, however, was different. There was only radio silence. And nothing hurt more than the quiet. The absence of his usual messages left an ache in your chest that you couldn't ignore. You found yourself checking your phone obsessively, hoping for any sign of communication. But the screen remained stubbornly blank, a stark reminder of the growing distance between you. 
As the hours ticked by, your mind raced with possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. Was he okay? Had something happened? Or was this simply the new normal - a silence that spoke volumes about the state of your relationship? 
The sound of the door creaking open finally pulled you from your thoughts. Through the narrow gap between the door and its frame, you saw a thin line of light, and then your eyes drifted up to see your husband. Hongjoong stepped into your shared apartment, his ginger hair damp from the rain. He ran his hand through it, pushing the wet strands away from his face, before peeling off his soaked beige coat and slipping off his shoes. You swallowed the lump rising in your throat at the sight of him, tears prickling your eyes again. You blinked rapidly, trying to push them back, gripping the blanket tighter as if it could shield you from the wave of emotions crashing inside you. The fabric pulled up to your chin, a flimsy barrier between you and the ache that had settled deep in your chest. 
The light went out as Hongjoong moved further into the apartment, past the door of your bedroom without a word. He didn’t even glance in your direction. What was wrong? Or was he simply trying to avoid waking you, assuming you should be asleep instead of quietly falling apart? One way or another, it was far too late for him to walk back in like nothing had happened. The silence that followed felt colder than before, sinking into your already worn-out body. 
You could hear him in the living room, the soft rustle of the wardrobe doors opening. Was he planning to sleep on the couch again tonight? You untangled yourself from the blanket, standing quietly before slipping out of the bedroom. The weight of exhaustion and frustration clung to you as you made your way to the kitchenette. You didn’t want to fight. Not tonight. You poured yourself a glass of cold water, grabbed the bottle of painkillers from one of the drawers, and swallowed a couple of pills, hoping they’d dull the throbbing in your head. You glanced at Hongjoong as you set the glass down. He had stopped mid-motion, his hands frozen on the pillow he was arranging on the sofa. Your eyes met briefly, the silence between you thick with unspoken words. As you had guessed, he was indeed preparing to sleep on the couch tonight. The realization sent a fresh wave of pain through your chest. You averted your gaze, unable to bear the weight of his silent stare any longer. The distance between you felt insurmountable, even though you were just a few feet apart in the same room. 
You stood in the dim light of the kitchen, hands gripping the edge of the counter as you tried to steady your breathing. Then, the words you’d been holding back for too long slipped out before you could stop them. "Where were you tonight?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of all the unanswered calls and unread messages. 
You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before continuing. "I called you eighteen times, Hongjoong. Eighteen. And not once did you pick up or call back. What's going on?" Your eyes met his again, searching for any sign of explanation or remorse. "Are we... are we okay?" The last question came out softer, more vulnerable, betraying the fear that had been gnawing at you all night. The words felt like they had a life of their own, carrying the weight of nights spent alone, of unanswered calls, and of the slow unraveling of something you once thought was unbreakable. You didn’t dare turn around, didn’t want to see the look on his face. Whether it was guilt, anger, or indifference, you couldn’t handle any of it. 
The silence stretched longer, and every second that ticked by only made your heart sink deeper. 
Finally, you heard him shift behind you, his footsteps hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure how to approach the fragile moment. The tension in the room felt suffocating, but you stood your ground, gripping the counter tighter, waiting for him to say something—anything—to break the silence. 
But nothing came. 
Tired. You were both tired—of the silence, of the distance, of pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t. You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep this up, but at that moment, you didn’t have the strength to do anything more than stand there, waiting for an answer that might never come. 
You didn’t turn around as you felt his presence behind you, the warmth of his body radiating in the small space between you. You held your breath, waiting for him to say something, to explain, to apologize—anything to break the suffocating silence that had enveloped you both. One of your hands traveled to your temple, trying to massage away the pounding headache that wouldn’t relent, as if easing the physical pain might somehow dull the ache in your heart too. 
The silence dragged on, and you could feel him standing there, just out of reach, but still not saying a word. It was suffocating, the space between you filled with unspoken thoughts, unresolved arguments, and the growing distance that neither of you seemed able to close. 
"I kept waiting. Waiting for you to call back, to walk through the door, to say something—anything." you continued, voice trembling as you let your hand fall from your temple, now gripping the edge of the counter again.
Hongjoong let out a breath behind you, but it was small, almost inaudible. You could sense his guilt, but guilt alone wasn’t enough to bridge the gap. "I didn’t know what to say," he admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper, and you could hear the weight of his own struggle in it. 
"You didn’t know what to say?" You turned around slowly, finally meeting his eyes. Your own were burning, a mixture of exhaustion, anger, and desperation swirling together. "Do you think that makes it any better? That just... ignoring me was the right thing to do?" 
He looked down, running a hand through his damp hair again. His hesitation was killing you. You needed him to fight for this, to fight for you. 
The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. Hongjoong's eyes finally met yours, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. 
"Are you giving up on us?" The words tumbled out of your mouth, raw and vulnerable. Your eyes searched his face, desperate for any sign that he still cared, that there was still something worth fighting for. 
Hongjoong's eyes snapped up to meet yours, a flicker of pain crossing his features. For a moment, he looked as lost and scared as you felt. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken fears and fading hopes. "I..." he started; his voice barely audible. He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. "I want a divorce, Y/N," Hongjoong finally said, his voice cracking slightly as he forced the words out. 
The world seemed to stop spinning for a moment. You felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving you gasping. Your eyes widened in disbelief, searching his face for any sign that this was some cruel joke. But all you saw was a mixture of pain, guilt, and resignation in his eyes. 
"What?" you whispered, barely able to form the word. Your hands gripped the counter behind you, needing something solid to hold onto as your world crumbled around you. 
Hongjoong took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of his words was physically pulling him down. 
You felt tears welling up in your eyes, a lump forming in your throat. All those ignored calls, the nights spent alone, the growing distance - it all suddenly made sense in the worst possible way. The realization hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you struggling to stay afloat in the sea of emotions threatening to drown you. 
"A divorce?" The word felt foreign on your tongue, heavy and bitter. You shook your head, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks. "How... how long have you been thinking about this?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with the weight of your shattered world. 
Hongjoong's eyes flickered with a mix of guilt and sadness as he answered, his voice low and strained. "For a while now... I've been trying to find the right moment, but there never seemed to be one." He paused, running a hand through his hair, a gesture that once seemed endearing but now felt like a painful reminder of what you were losing. 
The words hit you like a physical blow, and suddenly, all the pain and frustration you'd been holding back came rushing to the surface. Your eyes flashed with anger as you stepped towards him. 
"Empty promises," you spat, your voice quivering with emotion. "Is that what our vows meant to you? Because I meant every single word, I said on our wedding day!" Hongjoong flinched at the intensity of your words, but you couldn't stop. The floodgates had opened. "I said I wanted to spend forever with you, Hongjoong. Forever! And I meant it with every fiber of my being. But for you? Were they just pretty words to say in front of our families and friends?" Your voice cracked, tears streaming down your face. "I promised you my life, my love, my everything. And you're throwing it all away like it meant nothing. Was any of it real for you?" 
The silence that followed was deafening, heavy with the weight of broken promises and shattered dreams. 
Hongjoong's shoulders slumped, his eyes cast downward as if he couldn't bear to meet your gaze. The weight of your words hung in the air between you, a tangible reminder of the promises made and now broken. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of regret and resignation. "It was real," he said, his voice barely audible. "But sometimes... sometimes love isn't enough." He paused, swallowing hard before continuing. "We've grown apart, Y/N. We're not the same people we were when we made those vows." 
"Don't bullshit me now, Hongjoong! It was two years ago! Two years!" Your voice rose, trembling with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "Why did you even bother to fucking marry me if you were going to give up so easily?" Your words echoed in the small space between you, raw with emotion. Your hands were clenched at your sides, your whole body shaking with the force of your outburst. The tears that had been threatening to fall now streamed freely down your face. You searched Hongjoong's face, desperate for any sign that this was all a mistake, that he didn't really mean what he was saying. But all you saw was a mixture of guilt and resignation in his eyes, and it only fueled your anger and hurt more. 
Hongjoong took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of sadness and determination. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I truly am. I didn't marry you with the intention of giving up. I thought... I thought we could make it work. But we've changed, grown apart. The passion, the connection we once had... it's not there anymore." He paused, running a hand through his hair. "I've tried, we've both tried, but it feels like we're just going through the motions. Don't you feel it too? The distance between us, even when we're in the same room?" His voice softened, a hint of vulnerability seeping through. "I didn't want to hurt you, but I realized that staying in a marriage that's lost its spark would hurt us both more in the long run. You deserve someone who can love you fully, completely. And I... I'm not that person anymore." Hongjoong's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he continued, "I know it's not fair. Two years isn't a long time, but it's been long enough for me to realize that we're not making each other happy anymore. And isn't that what marriage should be about? Happiness, growth, mutual support?" He took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry I couldn't be the person you needed me to be. I'm sorry I couldn't keep the promises I made. But I think... I think we both deserve a chance at real happiness, even if it means not being together." 
You were at a loss for words, the reality of the situation sinking in. Finally, you managed to speak, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with emotion. "No, I don't feel it too. What I feel is the desperate longing for you when you're not here. I love you, it never changed." You realized, with a crushing finality, that you would never hear him say he loves you again.
Swallowing hard, fighting back a fresh wave of tears, you spoke again, your voice hollow. "I'm going to pack my bags." 
As you turned to leave, you felt a hand grasp your arm gently. Hongjoong's touch, once so familiar and comforting, now sent a jolt of pain through your heart. "Y/N, please..." His voice was barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of desperation and regret. You froze, your back still to him. For a moment, you allowed yourself to feel the warmth of his hand, to remember all the times that touch had brought you comfort. But the pain of his words, the finality of his decision, was too fresh. 
With a sharp intake of breath, you pulled your arm away, stepping out of his reach. You couldn't bear to look at him, afraid that if you did, you might crumble completely. "Don't," you managed to say, your voice trembling. "Just... don't." Without turning back, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with cold finality, "You can tell your lawyer to bring the papers to my parents." 
The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of your shattered dreams and the future that would never be. You didn't wait for a response, couldn't bear to hear whatever Hongjoong might say. Instead, you walked away, each step feeling like it was taking you further from the life you had once imagined, towards an uncertain and lonely future. 
You packed your bags in a hurry, the silence broken only by the rustling of clothes and the soft thud of items being hastily tossed into your suitcase. Your hands trembled as you gathered the necessities, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. 
As you made your way to the door, you paused, your hand resting on the cool metal of the doorknob. Despite the pain coursing through you, you couldn't help but turn for one last look at the man you loved—still love. Hongjoong sat on the sofa, his head buried in his hands, eyes fixed on the floor. The sight of him, so defeated and lost, sent a fresh wave of anguish through your heart. For a moment, you stood there, memorizing every detail of this final scene, knowing it would be etched in your memory forever. 
With a deep breath, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your keys. The metal felt cold against your skin, a stark reminder of the life you were leaving behind. You walked over to the drawer near the entrance, your steps echoing in the heavy silence. As you placed the keys on the drawer, they made a sharp, metallic cling that seemed to reverberate through the apartment. The sound was jarring in the stillness, causing Hongjoong to snap his head up, his eyes meeting yours for a brief, intense moment. 
That single sound seemed to encapsulate everything - the end of your shared life, the finality of his decision, the irreversible nature of what was happening. It was as if that small noise had shattered the last remnants of the world, you once shared. 
Hongjoong's voice broke through the silence, barely above a whisper, but filled with a mixture of regret and desperation. "Y/N, wait..."He stood up, his eyes pleading. "I... I never meant for it to end like this. Please, don't leave this way—you don't have to go." His words were mumbled out quickly, a desperate need in them that you couldn't quite understand. The sudden shift in his tone caught you off guard, making you pause at the door. You turned slightly, not fully facing him, but enough to show you were listening. 
You felt a mix of emotions wash over you - anger, hurt, confusion. Part of you wanted to turn and run, to escape this painful situation. But another part of you needed answers, needed to understand how things had fallen apart so quickly. With a deep breath, you steadied yourself and turned to face Hongjoong fully. "What do you mean, don't leave this way?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "You just told me you want a divorce. What other way is there to leave?" 
Hongjoong got up from the sofa and took a few quick steps in your direction. His expression faltered, a mix of guilt and uncertainty crossing his features. He took a hesitant step towards you, his hand reaching out but stopping short of touching you. "I... I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "I just... I can't bear the thought of you walking out that door, even though I know I'm the one who caused this." His words hung in the air, heavy with contradiction. You felt a surge of anger mixed with confusion, your emotions threatening to spill over. Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself, your grip tightening on your suitcase handle. 
"Hongjoong," you began, your voice low and controlled, "you can't have it both ways. You can't ask for a divorce and then expect me to stay." You felt your resolve waver slightly at the vulnerability in his voice, but you steeled yourself, knowing you had to stay strong. 
"It's just hard to see you walk away in silence like we're strangers," Hongjoong said, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of regret and longing. 
His words hit you like a physical blow, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You took a deep, shaky breath before responding. "And it's hard for me to stay and pretend everything's okay when you've just shattered my world," you replied, your voice quivering. "We're not strangers, Hongjoong. We're two people who once vowed forever to each other, and now we're crumbling that promise." The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken words and painful realizations. You both stood there, caught in a moment that felt both eternal and fleeting, the weight of your shared history and uncertain future hanging between you. 
Hongjoong's eyes met yours, a mixture of pain and regret swirling in their depths. You could see the conflict within him, the struggle between what he thought he wanted and the reality of losing you.
Suddenly, without warning, Hongjoong closed the distance between you. His hands cupped your face, and before you could react, his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was desperate, filled with a mixture of passion, regret, and longing. It caught you off guard, your body tensing at first before instinctively melting into the familiar warmth of his embrace. For a moment, the world around you faded away. There was only Hongjoong, the taste of his lips, the feel of his hands on your skin. It was as if all the love, all the memories, all the pain of your relationship was poured into this one, final kiss. 
But as quickly as it began, reality came crashing back. You pulled away, breathless and confused, your mind reeling from the sudden turn of events. Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at Hongjoong, seeing the same turmoil reflected in his gaze. 
"Why?" you whispered, your voice barely audible, trembling with emotion. "Why now, when you've already decided to let me go?" 
Hongjoong's expression crumbled, he took a shaky breath, his hands falling to his sides as he struggled to find the words. "I... I don't know," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything." 
You choked on a sob, the finality of it all settled, and you found yourself struggling to breathe. With trembling hands, you reached for the door handle, your vision blurring with unshed tears. "Goodbye, Hongjoong," you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible and thick with emotion. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of everything you had shared and everything you were now losing. 
Without looking back, you stepped through the doorway, the soft click of the door closing behind you echoing in your ears like a death knell. As you made your way down the hallway, each step felt like it was taking you further from the life you had known, from the love you had cherished, and into an uncertain, lonely future. 
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♡│if you enjoy my writing please consider supporting me by tagging and reblogging│
│ it has come to my attention that a lot of ageless/blank blogs have started to interact with my fics. while i appreciate your interest in my writing, i want to remind everyone that my blog is for adults only. it only takes a moment to personalize your blog and add your age. please take a moment to do so. this way, it will be easier for everyone and will save me from having to go through all my notifications to block blank/ageless blogs.│
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mint-yooxgi · 11 months ago
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Fight or Flight Mini Masterlist
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Fae!AU & Yandere!AU - Part of the CoDN Thrill of the Hunt Collab
Genre: Fantasy, Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Smut
Pairing: Mingi X Reader
Words: 57,852 (Yes, you read that right, almost 57.9k words)
Rating: Mature - 18+ MDNI
Warnings and links found below the cut
Warnings: Please read the warnings carefully, as this is a very heavy story dealing with many dark topics. 8 ft tall Mingi. Slow burn. Violence: depiction of a massacre, a deer being slaughtered, as well as physical, verbal, sexual, and emotional, both alluded to and not. Blood and gore. Abuse: physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual, both alluded to and implied. Assault: physical, and sexual, both alluded to, implied, and attempted. OC has a really rough past, really this isn't for the faint of heart. Whipping, both alluded to, and done. Mentions of branding. Heavy themes of possession and ownership. Deception. Arson. Really, there's a lot of dark subject matter. Mingi falls hard and fast, thus, he simps a lot for the OC, but it's not a story written by me if Mingi doesn't simp for the OC. The reader is mentioned to be both tall and chubby, but it is not mentioned often, so it shouldn't disrupt the flow of the story when ready if you are not tall and/or chubby. I think that's everything, but if I missed something, please let me know! Smut: Biting/marking, outdoor sex, fingering (fem. rec), oral (fem. rec), hand job (male rec), come eating, overstimulation, Mingi has a dig bick, sex in a spring, really, it's very soft in comparison to the subject matter. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
P.S. If there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please ignore them. I did my best through many rounds of editing, but some are liable to still slip through.
A/n: I am SO sorry this took me LITERALLY forever to complete. I meant to have this out so much earlier, and actually posted on time, but it turned out much, much longer than I ever anticipated it being. I'm really proud of how this story turned out, and I didn't want to split it into multiple parts because I felt it would take away from the story as a whole. I'm super excited for you all to read this one, as I had a tremendous amount of fun writing it, and I really hope you all love Mingi's and OC's journey as much as I do. Huge shoutout and thanks to @anyamaris and @kwanisms for listening to me ramble and rave about this story both before and during the writing process, and for always encouraging me while writing! Also, huge thank you to @sanjoongie for being so patient and understanding with me as I write this all out in full. I hope you all enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~
Summary: Out of one horrible situation and into another, the cycle of abuse never stops. You've lived with monsters your whole life. So, what's one more?
P.P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!
→ Part One
→ Part Two
→ Part Three
→ Part Four
→ Part Five
→ Part Six {M}
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