#somebody has cursed me. for real.
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kittlyns · 1 year ago
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Girls I am on the fucking brink for realsies this time.
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Chasm: Curse of Kaine (Vol. 1/2024), #3.
Writer: Steve Foxe; Penciler and Inker: Andrea Broccardo; Colorist: Brian Reber; Letterer: Joe Caramagna
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throwawayasoiafaccount · 3 months ago
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is it wrong that i live for genetic based magic
maybe???? but i can’t care 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️
i can’tttttt care cause it’s so devious
like… what does it mean for our magical POV characters who are so new to this shit? what does it mean for future societal development? and what did it mean for past societal development?
#i love it because these people have a predisposition for magic but they’re still human but are they?#are they more than human in a bad or good way? or are they simply humans with great powers sometimes trying to be responsible with them#sometimes running from it sometimes cursed by it sometimes enraptured by it#like that is sooooo intresting but a lot of people don’t like it. i know why people don’t like it but stillllll#btw it’s not like only royalty or high lords or wealthy politicians are the only ones with this magical gene#many people in asoiaf have it. wasn’t it 1 in 1000 are a skinchanger? there are certainly many people with dragon blood in them#which gives them the ability to ride dragons#but with magic being genetic you also gota think about these wealthy and powerful people’s resources and the head start they have#so it becomes a sort of class division type of thing which is something we see with the dragonseeds in the dance#they would never have had the opportunity to claim a dragon if not for the dance but they always had that gene that made it possible#but for other magic like skinchanging and that type of thing it seems like environment and potential animal bonds matter a lot#like a direwolf is wayyyy better than a common wolf but not everyone has access to direwolves#you get my drift????#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire#also magic gives nobodies the potential to become somebody#maybe that’s why maesters hate magic cause it can totally disrupt the ever teetering balance of feudalism#like mel was a slave and now a red priestess and she’s able to convince a king to burn his gods bc magic is real !!!#that’s so crazy to me. but it doesn’t change the fact that mel def has that magic gene :))#blood makes you a [blank] my bestie brynden told me
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urlocalmagicalcat · 1 year ago
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really long rant (happy rant) in the tags, mostly towards @synthetic-lavender /vpos
romance repulsed aros and romance favourable aros are both cool and valid but because i never see anything about us: shoutout to romance indifferent aros. romance neutral aros. aros who just couldn't care less. aros who have a conflicted relationship with romance. aros who are fine with romance in some contexts but not in others. aros who don't mind romance when it's not amatonormativity being shoved down their throats. aros who haven't yet figured out their feelings about romance. aros to whom romance is Just Something That Exists. y'all are rad as hell and it's okay not to 'pick a side'!!
#I’m an aro who is heavily indifferent about romance except for when it comes to our beloved Freya because we love her as both a friend#and as a lover.#there’s a saying we like to go by that we picked up on from one of our favorite songs#“Kiss whoever makes you feel sound but it takes time man to figure it all out”#AND WE STRONGLY STAND BY THAT.#We’ve been through so many relationships that romance isn’t really a thing anymore to us because of trauma and abuse. We only felt romance#towards two people (Freya being one of them) that it’s lowkey so numbing to us but yet we also like the idea of romance because like#you get to share your life and your life experiences with somebody you love and it’s the most amazing thing ever because it builds the bond#between you guys closer and stronger and it’s beautiful.#but yet it’s so confusing and new to us still because like. whenever we think about freya it gets so gushy and messy because we actually#love her and it’s so strange and new because she’s actually a really good person.#I tell you. Freya is literally one of the best person in the world. Freya would literally sit there and wait for you to return and would#wait for you forever and looks past the abuse and misguidance you went through with the person that abused you previously because deep down#inside she knows that’s there’s a gentle and sweet and caring being within you that wants to be let out and free.#she looks past the facades and masks you’d go through to please people and brings out the best in you. she knows that you wouldn’t act that#way and she knows that you’re equally as much as a being as she is.#she knows deep down inside that you have a huge distaste towards cursing all the time she knows that you want to help everyone and she know#that no matter what anyone tells you that your interests will always be apart of who you truly are#a childish fun-loving sweet person who just wants everyone to be okay.#she sees past all of the dirt that’s been put in my mouth and understands that what you had to do was to survive.#and god darn it. you survived. you’re still surviving.#and you can’t help but melt because all you’ve known are false loves and friendships and relationships yet this is real.#she’s real. she’s so. kind and pure. she doesn’t want any trouble or rottenness to be spread around. she just wants everyone to be happy.#like you.#not all of us are designed to be with everyone. some of us need more care and kindness than others.#and. I think Freya. is the right one for me. for us. for us as a system. but. especially for. me.#Freya reminds me of the first person that first truly loved us and I love that because Freya is better than the first person we actually ha#feelings for. They even have a similar-ish name. Felicity. Freya. both begins with F has an e within their names and has a y close to the#end of both their names.#having someone that reminds you of someone you truly loved and cared for and having someone who’s an actual good pure person is. the best.
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medicinemane · 19 days ago
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The problem with a lot of body horror for me is it's just gross without being compelling
Like yeah you had that person tear their leg open and pull muscle away from bone in a way that's very uncomfortable... but I don't care. Or a lot of Hostel style horror for me it's just kinda... yeah... grossing me out isn't some kinda win
Cause it's not that I don't like body horror, I love Dead Space for instance which... kinda the core pillar of that is body horror if we're honest
Could be a matter of that that kind of body horror is more fantastic making it easier to digest, I will advance that as a theory, but personally I kinda think that it's more that they do something actually interesting with it
Like if I wanted to I could probably see a really fucked up leg wound (and worse) in looking online about this shitty world
Can't really find dead bodies contorted into killing machines though
So I kinda feel like it's my problem with a lot of horror, of that it's horrible in a mundane way where as I'm looking for some unfathomable secret out of horror
So there's a difference between some stabbing a person in the eye cause they're just a shitty person, and doing it to try and create a replica of an alien artifact that gives unlimited energy but also drives people crazy and then turns their bodies into horrible monstrosities
One is just way more interesting to me
#also most of that shit looked stupid and goofy and like bad cgi#like yeah you managed to make some brutal looking stuff; congratz; I don't care about that#but the actual monster stuff you did just looked silly#bleh... glad I skipped my way through out of 10 kinda horror movie (ie almost every horror movie)#the only problem with Dead Space is that I can't play it cause ammo management stresses me the fuck out#you'd think it's because it's too scary#but no; it's cause it brings out my perfectionist where I need to make every shot hit perfectly#I don't do well with scarcity; too much in my own life#which means I don't do well with horror because by necessity things are scarce cause otherwise that's just a power fantasy#but also! it's hard for me to watch stuff like that cause I get bored real easily of watching people meander#also I don't want them talking#basically what I need to find is somebody that... let's be honest; that's a cinematic artist#knows how to collect everything with good pacing; knows how to win without making it too easy#this is my curse with Dead Space; in many ways it's one of my favorite bits of horror in the world#and yet I can hardly interact with it cause of how my brain is#maybe the real Dead Space was the dysfunctions we had along t he way#but nah... too much horror is screamy backrooms; not enough is MyHouse.wad (or whatever the Doom extension is)#which... is another thing I'll never play; but I got lucky and found a video that really nailed what I needed it to#which is funny cause I don't really enjoy anything else on the guy's channel; mostly cause he covers analog horror which...#I so want to like analog horror; but I never do; it always feels so bland#all of it has sparks of brilliance but then goes way too silly with it#horror is one of my favorite genre's; which is I guess why I hate all of it so much and I'm so so so so so so so picky#legit part of my problem is there's a very real extent to which I feel like 'if it doesn't drive me literally insane; what's the point?'#like; 'if I don't have a literal break with reality and become infested by madness from another world; is it even horror?'#which I gotta be honest; if it actually happened I wouldn't enjoy that much#I want some unknowable truth... horror makes me hungry for something I can't put my finger on#like a memory long since passed#but there's stuff I do end up liking and end up thinking is effective#mm tag so i can find things later
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quirkycritters · 15 days ago
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Game Night: CHAIN ATTACK!!!
i am,,, withering away but ITS DONE ITS DONE IM FREE FROM THE CURSE (<<< still haunted by wips) clocking in at 32+ hours, this sucker has been getting pushed around for 10 months-
while theres some things i would have done differently if i could redo this from scratch, i still had a BLAST cramming in as much detail as i could tolerate >:) some highlights / cut ideas / ramblings are below the cut, but please zoom for details! (if tumblr doesnt shred it to bits)
gonna be real i locked so hard onto drawing ripped jeans that i forgot i could have just shoved legend into a skirt and called it a day
SOCKS. SOCKS. the amount of Joy anytime i figured out how to personalize them with game references: legend (hibiscus), twilight (ordon goats), and four (force gems)
i WAS going to put time in a turtleneck, but had an epiphany and started digging for the most obnoxious hawaiian shirts i could find,,, ft. a sea flower (wind waker) and a saturation boosted plumm (twilight princess)!
yeah so warriors got the sweater instead of the skintight shirt, sorry gang
speaking of if i ever say im going to draw a cableknit sweater again, somebody PLEASE shake some sense into me- warriors sweater was a NIGHTMARE since my art program has an astonishing lack of good brushes (and yet here i am still using it)
MOST of the text has been modified using the twilight princess cipher because yeah. i was procrastinating shading. also the other ciphers were in japanese- times shirt is cropped, but reads "its 5 oclock somewhere"
winds lobster shirt :) that is all i just think its neat
wilds jacket :) link w(ild) 2017, aka the release year of botw
jewelry! sky has the fireshield earrings, and wild has the amber earrings~ could barely squeeze the bombos and quake medallions onto legend, and wind got the joy pendant
hyrule :D embroidery on his sweatpants because i was struck by whimsy- also i 100% thought his shield was purple tinted for weeks while drawing this because the page i used as reference was set at night, and i was originally basing his sweater on his shield- scrapped the cross pattern after several failed attempts but kept the color ^^
the chips are bbq because im biased (reads "crisps" in twilight princess cipher for no real reason except whimsy)
bless my dearest homie for game reccs because the og plan was to have them all be loz games! titles include wii sports resort, elebits, super mario party, smash bros ultimate, just dance 2016 (its box art is colorful ok), and myth makers orbs of doom (I HATE THIS GAME WITH EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING, as i should, anyways i should play it again). four is suggesting orbs of doom, buddy aint even playing,,,
kinda was hoping to play around with hair colors and skin tones a bit more, but again, see the hour count- ill get em next time surely,,, also blue vs violet eyes for legend already had me in decision paralysis
the whole gang was gonna have friendship bracelets with color combos based on dynamics i found neat but oops! didnt finish the layer :')
thats a wrap! didnt yap about everything but im curious what yall catch onto- anyways surely ive learned something about biting off more than i can chew (<<< lying liar who lies)
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onlyswan · 1 year ago
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summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.
idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k
content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉
> in which masterlist!
note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3
“jungkook, baby?”
your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.
“babe?”
you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.
him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.
and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.
but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.
you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.
the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.
he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?
agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.
maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.
whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.
in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.
you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.
jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.
clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.
but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.
your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.
not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.
you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.
the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.
you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.
anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.
jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.
when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.
night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.
“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.
the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.
“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.
his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.
“are you crying?!”
your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.
“baby!”
he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”
“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”
this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.
“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”
his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.
you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.
“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”
from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.
“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”
now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.
but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.
“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.
he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.
“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”
“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.
he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”
fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.
“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.
the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.
“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”
“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”
“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”
you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.
“____!”
and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.
“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”
you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.
“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”
you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”
“are you sure?”
he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.
“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”
“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”
“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”
“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.
“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.
and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.
“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”
“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”
“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”
he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.
“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.
he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.
and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.
“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”
if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.
however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.
“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”
jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.
may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.
“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”
he winces guiltily.
“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”
“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.
he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.
“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”
unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.
“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.
“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.
you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.
of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.
“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.
“rice,” he demands as he chews.
you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.
“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.
witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.
“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.
“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.
“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”
but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.
“i just told you to eat first!”
you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”
he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.
“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”
he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.
you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.
with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.
and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.
and it was cold. it was always cold.
“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”
“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”
“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”
“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”
“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”
your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.
a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.
your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.
oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.
“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.
the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.
“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.
the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.
he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.
“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”
you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.
you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.
you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.
“are you spiderman?”
he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”
you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”
he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”
“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“
“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”
your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.
“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”
you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.
“uh?! i’m serious over here!”
this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.
“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”
he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.
“i’ll go with you,”
“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”
“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.
“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”
“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”
that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.
“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”
“this is very normal,” he argues.
the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.
“some would even say romantic.”
a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.
you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.
you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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evilminji · 9 months ago
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You know all those Cults in Gotham?
Bet at least ONE of them could spring for both a Legit Magic User and a Cloning pod.
Because The Wayne's? Hearts of Gold. Long standing pains in the asses. Probably the only thing standing between this gods forsaken wasteland of a city and Their Dark Lord. For GENERATIONS no less!
It's sooooo obnoxious!
So they want to Curse Um dead. Just a good ol fashioned bloodline curse. Destroy um from within, etc. BUT! To do THAT? You kinda need a blood relative to sacrifice!
And Bruce is... well... rather infamously An Orphan With No Biological Kids (at that point).
So? What do you do? Make one, obviously. You send in some of your own on a Holy Mission. Honeypot that playboy! Get us a kid to sacrifice! Our God will reward you etc! But... FFS! What? Are brunettes not your TYPE or something?! Pretty lady! Throwing herself at you!!
TAKE THE BAIT!
But he DOESN'T. Because he's both really used to that behavior, as The Wayne Heir and a False Playboy, AND because? He's fuckin Batman. He can see through your schemes.
Okay.
Okay!
Plan B!
Get us some DNA. We'll CLONE the sucker. That should be doable, right?
........OH COME ON! How?!
Batman: [REDACTED] / Cultists: 0
Fuck it! This is impossible! How are we supposed too... *eyes drift over to the Wayne Family Private Graveyard* .......Idea? Ideeeeaaaa~! Someone get us a shovel!
So they, cultist bastards that they are? Fuckin rob a grave for some DNA.
OBVIOUSLY though, it can't be one of the more RECENT graves! He probably VISITS those! Watches them! No we gotta be SNEAKY! Get one a bit further back! Mwahahahaha! We're so brilliant! Our God is gonna give us SUCH a Good Grade in follower!
A thing that is both REAL and possible to achieve!
So, while a Weirdly FURIOUS Batman? Is just... VIOLENTLY breaking ALL of their bones? Cultist 17 is furiously digging like his life depends on it. Either somebody snitched or Batman was hunting them down! Either way?
Gotta! Get! That! DNA!!! *digs faster*
Ah HA! Got it!
Fucking SCATTER! Run you fools, RUN!!! *everyone bolts*
And AT LAST! They have it! Wayne DNA! Now? Pop that sucker into the machine and make us a baby! Too sacrifice! *relieved noises* Man, that was hard work you guys. But we DID it!
Except??
Theoretical Babies? And "Real, slowly forming in front of me and becoming a human child" type babies? VERY DIFFERENT psychologically. It's ONE thing to sacrifice a HYPOTHETICAL baby... but when you're the guy running and monitoring the Cloning machine? Watching it slowly form and come together into... into a CHILD?
You start asking questions of yourself. Of God.
Of what, EXACTLY, you are willing to do.
What lines you find yourself unwilling to cross.
And yeah, your life was SHIT before the cult. Yeah, you were alone. Adrift. Without purpose. Angry at the world for all of its ugliness and failings. But... sitting, alone, in a dark room? Nothing but the steady hum of machines and the cool light of that pod? You are left with nothing but time... and your thoughts.
And the baby.
The one... the one YOU made.
Almost... he's almost like a son, in a way. Your son. Floating there, innocent and unknowing. Destined to be born, only to die painfully, for a cause he could not even begin to understand. Because he's too young. Too small. Just... just a baby.
The baby YOU made.
Doubt seeps in like mist. Creeping into the cracks forming in your faith. Surely there's another way, right? Why not save up for a better magician? Or... or hire a hitman? Why involve a child? Surely... surely your God would not WANT this, right? Or if He did! Surely, he would want the boy to be able to CHOOSE, right? A noble sacrifice, for the cause?
The pressure builds. Batman is tearing the city APART looking for your fellow Believers. Leadership is pressuring you to get "It" ready all ready.
He's not an "it".
They are dismissing your questions. Threatening and posturing, as you grapple with your faith. Where? Where is the COMMUNITY that you joined? The camaraderie? Every day, Believers are being torn down. The faith has lost so many!
How can this be WORTH it?
Your faith is slowly, cruelly, strangled in your chest. A death, by ten thousand silences, and ten thousand more cruelties.
Your son is ready.
You do not tell them.
The Clone of Bruce Wayne's great-grandfather is small, but healthy, in your arms. A tiny warm body, with a strong beating little heart. You call the police. Leave your phone, call running, on the desk. No one thinks to stop you, as you calmly walk out the back door.
Why would they doubt?
You are Faithful.
You drive. Pray to a God you have lost faith in, beg forgiveness for what you do now. Your beat up old junker of a car makes decent time, as you leave Gotham. Your son, asleep in a carefully made nest of blankets, on the seat next to you. You drive. You keep driving.
Past towns.
Past cities.
Out of the state.
Stopping only to feed your son and fuel your car. You... you can not bring yourself to care about what will happen to you now. You know they will find you. Know this is the end. But something ancient burns in your chest. A caring you never thought was REAL.
You are afraid.
But you will not let them harm your son.
Finally, a town. Far from Gotham. Quite and cheerful. It calls to you.
Here. It... it has to be here.
You find the hospital. Tears choking you. There is a place to drop of children. You've seen them before. How strange, that now you stand before it and HURT. Your arms not listening to your command. You... you have to do this. You HAVE too.
He is just a baby.
He is your son.
You have to keep him safe. And... and that can not be with you.
You gently put your baby boy into the drop off. Press the buzzer. And then? You make yourself walk away.
Get back in your car, and drive. The gun in your glove box will insure they can never pry from you, what you have done. Where he is. He is safe now. He has to be. You... you did your job. As his father. You made sure he was safe.
You can barely see the road, through your tears.
You take your secrets to the grave.
And Danny? He grows up. Is adopted young and never knows different. Both a Fenton and a Wayne. Knowing only one of these, to be his. But... that Wayne? Was a damn fine man. A pillar of his community and a champion of the people.
Got tossed more then a few blessings, in his life.
They weren't the STRONGEST. But they added up. And more importantly? Were hardly the refined magics of the more powerful. They were cast onto "Him". By blood and bone, more often then not. Which was all well and good!
When there was only ONE of "Him".
Cloning technology did not exsist. So why would you word carefully against it? Danny becomes a VERY lucky boy. Survives many things he should not. In fact, the kindness and hard work of his original? Gifted back in magically powered well wishes? By this, he survives something NO ONE could possibly expect him too.
It saves his life.
His template would be quite pleased, knowing that. That his life of good deeds, saved the life of the child he never got a chance to meet. That it protected his children, from even beyond death.
And in Gotham? At long, long last. The program Bruce made in his helplessness and despair, to search EVERY child until the child made of his bloodline was found? Spits out a match.
A Watchtower engineer.
Daniel J. Fenton.
@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation
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peppertoastuniverse · 5 months ago
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pep reads: gojo satoru – long fics (pt.1)
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Part 2
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚
☆ the way you love me by @peachsayshi [AO3/tumblr] [status: ongoing ◦ 29/? chapters] [smut!] [fwb!gojo] #pep's first fic she was OBSESSED with #real good good smut WITH FEELINGS
“We can stop anytime. If either one of us feels like... this ...might be too much. We stop, no questions .” “We can stop anytime,” Gojo repeated “... and nothing changes between us .” You swallowed hard at his last statement. You may not be able to read his eyes but you could hear it in his voice that he needed reassurance. “No matter what happens, we’ll still be friends...” you replied softly, “now kiss me before I change my mind.”
☆ you and me by tomodachi [AO3: ] [status: completed ◦ 5/5 chapters] [tear jerker] [eventual smut!] #pep cried #gojo just kinda loves you real hard
“Prisoners say the most comical things when their judgment comes,” you tilt your head, lifting a finger before him, “Who are you?"
--- History is written by the winners, Satoru knew this well. It was only when he lost and got sealed inside the Prison Realm he learned how to be weak and find out a long buried truth.
☆ ito by peekamatcha [AO3] [status: ongoing ◦ 48/? chapters] [super slow burn] [shinto elements] #pep DIES with every update #the TWIST in that one chapter omg
You, a former sorcerer now working as a university lecturer, were hoping to maintain your distance with the sorcerer world for an eternity to come. However, with the reappearance of an upperclassmen from a decade ago, you are forced to go on a journey which you would rather sit out of. But somebody must save humanity from the impending apocalypse and apparently the job falls on the shoulders of you two.
It would have been alright had he not been everything you didn’t want to be reminded of. And the sacrifices to be made may be more than what had been bargained for. ☆moonlight by @septembersummer [AO3/tumblr:] [status: completed ◦ 10/10 chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #pep SCREAMED
Gojo Satoru is dying. And no, it's not his fault this time.
The curse which is withering Satoru into an early grave is actually the product of his great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather, who had a couple of sons that refused to procreate. And what does a proud, powerful man do when his sons refuse to fuck, and there won't be another heir to the clan?
He curses his own bloodline, of course.
It's only natural that he forces them through some twisted form of sorcery to become uncontrollably, violently attracted to the person they're most genetically compatible with.
It's even better that the curse creates a permanent, unbreakable bond between the two unwilling lovers. That's right, it usually takes more than one fuck to make a baby-- so, why not force them to have twelve?
Satoru wished his ancestor would be resurrected from the grave, just so that he could kill him again. That is, before Satoru inevitably dies.
He's had a good run, he thinks. Now, all he has to do is make sure you don't find out that you can fuck him back to life and try to very stupidly save him from himself.
(here's a spoiler: you do).
☆ a typical family by @literalia [AO3/tumblr] [status: completed? ◦ 32/32 chapters] [non liner narrative] [dad!gojo] #pep absolutely MELTED #slice of life #pep's gojo comfort fic
"satoru. where did you get these kids?"
or
after a six month absence, satoru shows up at your door two little kids following behind. chaos ensues.
☆ and if i cant see by hollowdonut [AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 26/? chapters] [slowburn] [eventual smut!] [tw: ptsd] #pep loves the reader's dynamics with gojo!
They say eyes are the window to the soul, but Gojo’s eyes are almost always hidden behind a blindfold. Even when they aren’t, you can never tell what he’s thinking.
You wonder if you should’ve taken that teaching job in Kyoto instead.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚
bonus!
☆ all hail the empress! by @chuluoyi [tumblr/AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 1/? chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #but THE END THO? OMGGG you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...
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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 11 months ago
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I wanna dance with somebody
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 22
Prompt: Sports
Rated: T
CW: some vague mentions of Eddie’s boner
Tags: No UD AU; Meet cute; Good neighbor Eddie Munson; Dancer Steve Harrington
Notes: @thefreakandthehair, @sourw0lfs, @devondespresso - SPORTS! GO, SPORTS!!!
Wanna see dancer!Steve stretch (and Eddie have a horny meltdown)? Check out the artwork done by @house-of-the-moving-image!!
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It’s still half dark and freezing outside as Eddie parks the van in front of the dancing school.
“Shit, we’re running late,” Max curses and bends down to straighten her neon-colored leg warmers for the twentieth time. “Just because you couldn’t find your stupid car keys.” 
“That all you gotta say?” Eddie huffs, but all it gets him is that bewildered brow quirk she always does when he’s being dumb. “How about Sorry for waking you at ass o’clock, Eddie? Thank you for driving me, Eddie? You’re the best neighbor in the world, Eddie?” 
She scoffs at him. “Ew, are you always that desperate for validation? Pathetic.” 
Eddie gawks after her as she opens the passenger door and gets out to retrieve her duffel from the backseat. That little gremlin! He should’ve closed the door in her face, left her standing out in the snow. 
Except, it all rang a little too close to home. The way she huddled on his porch, arms wrapped around her too-thin jacket, face set in a disappointed scowl. The way she barked at him to drive her to dance class because her mom had been home late and wouldn’t wake up. He knows she’s been taking odd jobs around the trailer park to pay for the classes, knows it's the one thing during the week she looks forward to. Also knows that her mom is too out of it to care half of the time. Knows how that feels. 
There’s no way he could’ve denied her. 
The problem is, she’s perfectly aware of that. 
“You coming?” 
She’s eyeing him expectantly through the open back door of the van. Eddie waves her off, fumbles for his cigarettes in his pocket. Realizes he forgot them. Shit. 
“‘s okay, I’ll just wait out here in the car.” 
She rolls her eyes so hard her entire head sways with the motion. “Don’t be a moron, they have heating and a lounge inside. C’mon.” 
*
The inside of the dancing school is basically just one long hall with a floor-to-ceiling mirror front at one end. There’s a counter in one corner and two mismatched sofas with a pile of old magazines opposite that. Max makes a dash for the gaggle of girls doing warm-ups on the dance floor, even though there’s no instructor in sight yet. 
“Oh hey, can I help you?” 
Eddie blinks. A guy has just materialized behind the counter - though the truth probably is that he was crouched out of sight to retrieve the boombox in his hands. He puts it on the countertop, cocks his head at Eddie, which makes a few strands of floofy chestnut hair fall in front of his wireframe glasses, and oh fuck, he’s cute! 
“Adult classes don’t start until noon, but-” 
Eddie barks a laugh and saunters closer. 
“Yeah, no. I’m just here to drop off little Red.”
He jerks his head at the dance floor. Cutie follows the movement and his face breaks into a smile so full of genuine delight, Eddie wants to cuddle him. Or maybe bite him. Maybe both. 
“Oh, Max,” says Cutie. “You her brother?” 
Eddie snorts. “Nah, just a neighbor. Her mom was … indisposed.” 
“Huh,” Cutie says. Quirks an eyebrow. Somehow manages to put an entire unspoken verdict into that little noise and gesture. “She’s real talented, y’know?” 
Eddie shuffles in his place, unsure about what to do with that information. “Um, yeah?” 
Cutie nods, eyes darting over at Max, who’s dropping into a painful-looking split in front of the mirror, and shit, when did she learn that? 
“Yeah. I think she’s got potential. Plus, she’s really come out of her shell these past few weeks. So thanks for driving her.” 
“Oh, erm …” Eddie makes, pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to hide his incoming flush. “No problem, dude, not like I had-” 
“Steve!” Max hollers, and they flinch apart. Eddie didn’t even notice how they’ve both drifted into each other’s space, Cutie’s elbows bracketed on the counter and himself just swaying ever-so-slightly closer. “You done flirting, or what? We should’ve started three minutes ago!” 
Cutie - who’s name is Steve, apparently - takes off his glasses and winks at Eddie. Fucking winks at him. It goes ridiculously well with the pretty pink blush that’s blooming high in his cheekbones. 
“Sorry,” he mutters, raising his arms over his head and bending at the hip, does a silly little stretch. “Duty calls.” 
Then, he smoothes his hair out of his forehead and steps around the counter, pressing the Play button on the boombox. 
“Okay, ladies, here we go! One song for warm-up, just move around the room however you like, feel the music.” 
Some atrocious, boppy pop number starts to blare through the room, but Eddie hardly processes it. He’s too preoccupied by the sight in front of him. 
Legs. 
And an ass. 
Legs and an ass in fucking tights. They hug Steve’s form like a second skin, bringing out every muscle, and Christ, there’s a lot to bring out! Guy looks like one of these ancient Greek marble statues - if marble statues wore fucking Tears for Fears shirts and could balance on their tippy toes and do leaps and spins in perfect sync with the music, all with flawless core tension and a seemingly effortless smile. 
Eddie thinks he may need to step out. Take a breather. Throw himself crotch-first into the nearest snowdrift, maybe. 
Instead, he takes two shaky steps backwards and collapses on top of the nearest sofa, grabs a random magazine from the pile and fans it open in his lap to hide his very unfortunate predicament. 
It’s Good Housekeeping. 
Steve spins by, catches his eye and winks again. 
Eddie turns back to the magazine. Cool, fine, he always wanted to know about the ten best apple pie recipes to delight your loved ones with. 
He does hope this magazine is sturdy, or he might just tear through it.
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Part 2
All my holiday drabbles
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morgluvsconnie · 4 months ago
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BOUND, c.springer
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chap.6 | smut, mentions of violence, angst if you squint, comfort. | chap.5
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"which one of yall know where reiner at?"
connie breathed hardly through his nose as no one had an answer. "it wasn't even him." you tried to calm connie down, but it seemed like the more you tried, the madder he got.
"stop saying that shit."
you furrowed your eyebrows, cursing at yourself internally from the amount of drama this was about to cause. not only for you, but for connie too. you remembered what reiner said he'd do, and as much as you wanted somebody to beat his ass, deep down you didnt wanna see connie get hurt.
"ion wanna get you involved in something that has nothing to do with you." you mumbled loud enough for connie to hear.
as he speed walked around almost the whole club, coming to a stopping point, connie turned around and looked at you.
"where he stay at?"
"im not telling you that."
"then tell me what happened." connie pursed his lips together, putting his hands in his pants pockets. you looked to the side and sighed. "i dont feel like it."
"y/n stop actin fucking stubborn and tell me what happened. stop actin like reiner supposed to be somebody im scared of." connie frowned at you. "shouldn’t no boy be putting his hands on a female, especially somebody like you."
you looked to the ground. as much as you didnt wanna hear him out, you listened to his words, taking in the compliment. unknowingly staying silent, connie grabbed your hand and walked you to his car. "im takin you home. you gon explain what happened, and ima do what i do." connie opened the car door for you with a sigh.
he walked to the other side, getting in and starting the car, glancing at you.
you didnt even wanna look at him.
pure anger is what filled his eyes, even if he tried his best not to show it.
even if he tried to make it seem like the second main reason he was defending you wasnt because he cared about you.
you stared at the window as connie drove to your house, getting out after those regular three minutes.
you opened your door and walked in. so much for staying out the rest of the night. "you really dont gotta do nothing connie, ion wanna get you involved." you tilted your head at him as he sat on the glass table in front of your couch, where you sat.
he didnt even reply to that.
and youd hate to admit he was the main cause of the situation, but all because of a big misunderstanding.
you crossed your arms with almost a pouty expression. you were still half drunk.
"what happened." connie asked, staring at you with his elbows resting on his knees. it wasnt even a question, it was more of a demand.
you stayed silent while looking at the ground.
you’d hate to cry all over again. you didnt even wanna explain what he did, in fear of him manhandling you all over again. what if connie wasn’t here and he came? what if he got more aggressive? what if y/n...
y/n
"y/n"
you looked up with slightly raised eyebrows, connie still waiting for you to answer his question.
"he..." you tried to remember from the beginning. "dont do anything connie... like for real.
"im not." connie stared lazily at you.
"he came to my house... yesterday i think. and... he started yelling at me" you paused and looked at connie. "about you."
connies expression slightly changed.
"he basically thinks we go together because of the dude that came up to me that night we talked. and he said he didn’t wanna see us together." you looked at the ground again.
"what, he must gon beat my ass?" connie leaned back a little, staring at you with a slightly confused expression. you sighed softly. "thats what he said."
"oh." connies eyes fell on your wrist, softening them. "so what he touch you for?"
you shrugged.
connie looked back at you, biting his lip a little. he bit his cheek as you looked up at him. thats when he stood up. "come here." he mumbled. you stood up. "where yo room at?" connie stretched.
you gave him a confused look for a second before going upstairs towards your room. as you opened your door, you stood to the side, letting him in. connie looked around your room for a few seconds before taking off his hoodie, putting it on your vanity.
as he walked over to your bed, he sat on the edge.
"c'mere." he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
you walked over to connie, standing in front of him. there was no doubt he was still slightly intoxicated. but he knew what he was doing, and he knew how to control his self.
connie looked at you, your face first, his eyes roaming yours, your lips, your whole face. he trailed all the way down your body, forcing himself not to look at that, now, visible hand print on your wrist.
when he made his way to your feet, he looked back up at you, licking his lips.
"can i?" he asked in a quiet tone.
you slowly nodded, knowing exactly what he was referring to.
connie brought his hands to your waist, hips, thighs, like you were a doll, but not a toy. in his eyes,
"you so damn beautiful." he mumbled. "thought that since the night i gave you that tattoo. you know that?" he kept his eyes on your face. "come on." he mumbled, reaching down to untie the strings on the back of your leg, both of them.
you stepped out of your shoes, staring at connie with soft eyes. those eyes hes been wanting to see in private every time you flashed them at him.
he stood up, softly sitting you down on your bed, getting in front of you. your faces got closer, your eyes moving from his eyes to his lips every second. "i wanna kiss you." you said in barely a whisper. it was really only supposed to be a thought. but damn.
connie licked his lips, looking at yours. before you knew it, your lips touched, the light taste of alcohol on your lips and his lips. connie groaned a little at the feeling of your lips on his.
as you leaned back, you pulled him in with you, his lips leaving yours and trailing down your neck, soft breaths leaving your lips as you felt him softly suck hickeys on your collarbone and chest.
your hand rested on the back of his head, he glanced up at you, his hands moving down to your hips as he pulled you closer to him, slightly spreading your legs with the movement.
"we gon take this off, okay?" connie got up, reaching towards your shoulder to pull your jumpsuit down. you nodded with a small giggle, making connie smile a little. when he finally got your jumpsuit to your ankles, a little help from you, he placed it to the side, admiring your body from beneath him.
"how could somebody hurt something as perfect as you?"
your lips slightly parted, but you didnt have any words. no ones ever admired you as much as connie did. you got compliments here and there, but right now, he was basically worshiping you. with his eyes furrowed, throwing his head back at that aching sensation he had, connies hand moved down to his pants, him groaning softly before looking back down at you.
the way you looked at him with those pleading eyes.
he could just cum right there.
as he grabbed your thighs, pulling you towards him, he got off the bed, dropping his pants to his knees and pulling out his throbbing cock, precum already leaking from the tip. and you? you were practically dripping.
"c'mon connie, stop teasing me..." you said in almost a whine. connie chuckled a little at you. what were you doing to him?
he was almost practically teasing his self.
as he reached towards your panties, pulling them to the side to see how wet he'd made you, he exhaled, closing his eyes as he slowly stretched you out, you, softly whining at the pain.
"bigger than yo last, huh. i know, its okay." he mumbled, thrusting just once, and that already sent you over the edge. "fu-ck.." you closed your eyes and grabbed his wrists.
"i know, pretty. you can handle my dick, i know you can." he bit his lip, slowly thrusting in and out of you. "you’re so... big.." you moaned, opening your eyes just to barely look at him. "mhm..." connie hummed before quickening the pace. "loosen up... c'mon." he groaned at how tight you were.
it wasnt a problem of course, but he wanted to make sure you got more pleasure out of this than he did.
as he fucked you at a nice pace, he leaned down a little, you moving your hips against him, feeling him even deeper inside of you. "ah, fuckkk.." you threw your head back. as connie thrusted even deeper inside of you, he rubbed your hips, pulling you closer with every thrust, hitting your sweet spot every time.
"connie..." you moaned. "'s too much..."
"uh-huh" connie bit his lip, slowing down. but not to slow down for you. he flipped you over, pushing your back into an arch. "shit!" you moaned louder as you felt him forcefully thrust into you, a grin forming on his face as he heard you carelessly and endlessly moan his name.
it was like music to his ears.
"f-fuck, connie!" you gripped the sheets, feeling your back start to ache a little, feeling the pleasure running through your stomach, legs, pussy, everywhere.
"you ever... hah... been fucked this good mama? huh?" connie said in slight pant, nails digging into your hips and ass. "no..." you furrowed your eyebrows. "use that pretty mouth the way you always do."
you felt a sharp pain on your left cheek, making you arch your back and cry out. “no!” you let your eyes roll to the back of your head, reaching back to make connie slow down.
connie grabbed your wrist, only using it to pull you harder as he pulled out his phone.
“you wanna show reiner what he can’t do? hm?” he cooed. you were almost drooling, dumb with dick, you had no idea what he was saying until you looked back, seeing connie’s phone out.
“uh-huh” you said without thought. connie cheesed, pressing the record button on his phone, giving him a chance to fuck you even harder, the sound of your ass slapping his stomach and your whines filling the room.
“you like that?” connie threw his head back, the phone nearly shaky with the feeling of his dick twitching inside of you.
“yesss” you started to move your body against him, fucking him back. connie’s hand went from your hip, down to your clit, rubbing it softly, all while still recording.
“can reiner do this?”
you basically jolted forward at the feeling, your legs getting weaker at the feeling of his middle finger gently rubbing your clit. he could feel you tighten against him every few seconds. as you replied with a whiney no, connie groaned, looking down at the phone.
“you want me to whoop his ass? hmm mama?” connie’s hand slid down your back and to your neck, pulling you against him forcefully as he pounded into you.
ugly (beautiful to him), groany moans spilling from your throat. “ah, yes, please” your eyes glued closed as you felt the phone being tossed to the side of the bed.
with one hand holding your hips up and another hand holding your neck, your arms stretched in front of you, twisting the sheets in your hand as you felt yourself start to shake, going completely silent, nothing but soft, barely audible moans coming from your lips with every thrust.
“shittt” connie pulled out of you, your body collapsing on the bed as you felt his warm stringy cum on your back. “you did so good mama.” connie squeezed your thigh before fixing his pants and walking to the bathroom to grab tissues.
after cleaning you up, connie walked out of the bathroom, head slightly tilting as he looked at you, almost fully asleep across the bed. smiling a little, connie walked over to you, sitting beside you and leaning back a little, seeing if you were fully asleep.
“aye.” connie laughed a little at the sight of you. completely slumped over his dick. if anything he felt honored.
“look at yo track.” he smiled, lifting a track in your head that was only hanging on by a thread. “you still so pretty.” he mumbled. you hummed in response, a small smile creeping onto your face. “ima leave for the night tho, ight?” as connie was about to get up you stopped him.
to say the least, even after everything, you knew he sent that video to reiner, and you knew reiner would not only try to get to connie, but he’d get you first.
“just stay the night. you don’t needa be going home this late.” you dragged your words. even though that wasn’t the complete reason you wanted him to stay.
connie sat back down and slowly nodded. “ight. ima see if i got some clothes in the car first.” he said, poking your side, making you jump a little.
“don’t wait up pretty.” he mumbled before walking out of your room.
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igotanidea · 5 months ago
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Smooth criminal: AK!Jason x reader
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part 1 : Somebody's watching me
part 2: Run baby, run
Yeah... I know it's been a while. Sorry guys. But here we are :)
***
They say that history repeats itself. That’s its merely a one big circle in which people get lost endlessly, not learning from the past mistakes, instead doing them all over again.
Like an Uroboros, forevermore biting his tail.
And that was how Y/N felt at the moment, shaking over the cup of tea Dick so generously offered her alongside with his hoodie. And even more kindly – not asking any questions of why she showed up at his apartment (or rather under it) in the middle of the night looking crazy.
She was back at the beginning. Back over Jason’s grave, sobbing and shaking while the memories of the news of him being gone forever haunted her mind.
Felt like all her efforts to forget and move on have come to nothing.
“Y/N…”
“No. No please I don’t want to talk Dick-“
“I was just gonna say you can stay here for as long as you like. I don’t know what got you so freaked out, but the Y/N I know – knew­ – was not the one to get scared over a spider or a mouse. So it must have been serious. Stay.” He grabbed and squeezed her hands reassuringly. “I’m serious.”
“No, no it’s too much to ask for—”
“Good thing you did not ask then.” Dick grinned “Cause I believe I offered It myself.”
“You really didn’t change a bit, Grayson. Same golden, sunshine boy.”
“And you’re still the same, not holding back girl. Woman. How long has it been exactly?”
“Two years.” She sighed
“Two years.” Dick sighed too, his eyes becoming a little blurry from the memories. “I missed you, you know. And not only me. So did Tim and Alfred and Damian and I’m sure even Bruce became a little more grumpy without your presence to challenge him.”
“He’s got enough criminals to keep him entertained I believe?”
“Oh, Y/N, criminals he can handle easily, they are no fun. But having a woman with a sharp mind? That’s something Bruce still needs a lot of training in.”
***
 It was shockingly easy to reconnect with Dick.
Or maybe not, given the fact he was always awfully friendly, keeping in touch even with his exes and even having considerably good relations with some villains.
Long story short, in a months’ time she was regularly back in his life and he was back in hers. And much to her surprise, this time it was not a constant reminder of the person she lost, neither filling the void, but rather a soft recollection that she was not the only one who felt the repercussions of Jason being gone.
If anything, after that time apart, it felt like Y/N and Dick’s relationship could finally move past the tragic events and bloom. Not in a romantic sense, because he had Barbara and was making plans in that area, but like a true, deep friendship, cemented with similar feelings.
And she even got the guts to meet with the rest of the batfamily, ditching those girls who left her alone at the party. Slowly, but steadily, she was getting back to her old, familiar self, dropping the act of a girl who wanted to be anything but the version she was when Jason was alive and with her.  She was not running from the past anymore, but rather embracing and accepting it. And that was the real healing.
Only that Jason was not gone.
Observing her carefully from the shadows, watching almost every step, be it himself or using his militia. With explicit orders given to not let her know they were there. He had bigger plans coming, and making the same mistake as before, by coming as close as to touch her, could never happen again. Even if somewhere deep inside, the very subdued part of him screamed for that. For the warmth he remembered and knew would come with tenderness and not pain.
She never gave him anything less but love and devotion.
If anything Jason was only cursing himself that he let her step into the Batman world again. That is was his reckless behavior that drove her back into the arms of people, who were nothing but bad news. Who would eventually end up hurting her too.
And he was going to protect his little, innocent princess from that.
So yes, he was watching.
Sending his goons when he knew she was walking back home from work late, to ensure no one would lay a finger on her.
Causing a commotion in the area that happened to be dangerous only so she would choose another way.
Sending her colleagues threat letters so they would drop the chase for the same promotion at work as her.
Beating up a guy who was trying to flirt with her when she was buying coffee-to-go at her favorite place.
Doing it all smoothly, like a professional he was.
Building up a way to execute his master plan that would keep her safe from any danger, real or hypothetical. Forever.
***
“She got home, boss. Safe and sound, not one hair out of place.” One of his militia officers reported to him
“Good.” Jason only grunted in response. One whole month and he was so close to the finale. The end was right in front of him and he had to hold himself back to not make a single rookie mistake that would derail his efforts.
“If I may, sir, why exactly are we wasting resources on some woman? She’s no one important, just a regular—”
“What did you say?”
If the sinister voice wasn’t enough to make the man stop his sentence, the iron grip on his throat did.
“I- I-“
“No one important? Huh? Was that what you said?” Jason mocked tightening fingers on the man's jugular. “Answer me!”
“I- I-“ he was struggling for air.
“Pathetic!” Jason threw him on the ground, retrieving the gun from his holster, pointing it at the man’s head.
“Please, don’t—”
“I should put a bullet in your head for talking about her like that and second one for questioning my plans.” The gun outlet was now pressing into the man’s temple. “You are doing what I tell you, you hear me? No questions. No doubts. You are here to serve me, unless-“ Jason put a little bit of pressure on the trigger.
“No! No please!”
“You’re a piece of shit.” Arkham Knight muttered, taking the gun away. “But I am feeling merciful today. We can’t have blood on the floor when Y/N arrives. Now go! Get out of my face before I change my mind! And you make sure everything is perfect because if not—” he  caressed the arms with a cruel glint in his eyes, enjoying the way his officer rushed out of the room, throwing commands left and right, halfway out the door.
“Soon, baby… Soon we’ll be back together…” Jason muttered to himself once he was finally alone.
He was so close to having everything he needed.
@vaniasagitaa @gone-batty-fics @astrelz @not-herexo @deans-spinster-witch @calicocat45 @princessbl0ss0m @rosieandthethorns @beingaturtlespiritually @grierpilots @killerwendigo @teenytinytunes
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skibasyndrome · 9 months ago
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Thank you anon for being stronger than me and actually saying it out loud 😩🤝
Can he please stop caressing his nipples ! 🥴🙈
I knew someone would mention that. 😇
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1-ker0sene-1 · 9 months ago
Note
Would you consider writing for a reader with face blindness and the other ways they have to identify the boys with?
Like whenever they just freshly walk into a room the reader has to stare at them for a moment until they say something or until they spot the part of them they use to identify them, then they get all happy to see them.
I just think it’d be really cute and face blindness is never a disability I see anything for, it lacks a lot of representation but affects a lot of people. Living with face blindness is a serious struggle, because even if someone is family, they’ll always wear the face of a stranger
{I don't mind at all! I did have to do a little research, as I personally was pretty curious at how somebody with this disability sees faces. If I got anything wrong please let me know! ♥️ As always I hope you're having a lovely day anon♥️}
Price
It took John some getting used to. Not that he doesn't try to accommodate, he just often forgets you don't see the way he does. He's so caught up in loving on you, he doesn't really mind whether you see him. So when he's meeting up with you on dates, coming over to sit at the table where you're already waiting for him.
Seeing that pretty face of yours contort into confusion and even a bit of nervousness makes his brows raise.
"I um.. I'm waiting for someone-"
You mumble out to what you assume may be a stranger.
"Are you now Darlin'?"
John chuckles, reaching to hold your hand from across the table. Lifting it to kiss your knuckles, blue eyes softening at you.
"I'm right here."
Gaz
Kyle would get used to it pretty quickly, trying to find ways for you to recognize him easily. Fuck he'll wear a goddamn cat collar if you ask him to. He won't want you to feel bad for it either.
"You don't need to see me lovie.. you know me. You feel me. And you've done a hell of a job loving me."
He mumbles, if you still feel bad- he'll take your hands and place them on his face. Telling you to just close your eyes and feel.
Anytime he sees the confusion starting in your eyes he tilts his head and cheekily tells you.
"The best boyfriend-"
"Kyle!"
He grins when he gets to watch your reaction to him. It's kind of ethereal.. He gets to see in real time the love bloom across your features. It hits him to, just falls for you everytime he sees it.
Soap
Luckily, Johnny can never really sneak up on you, purely cause he can't keep his mouth shut around you. He didn't even know for the longest time before you outright told him of your disability. He always calls out first, with that Scottish accent and slang, he's pretty recognizable. Between his call outs of-
"Bonnie!"
"Aye there's my lass.."
"Where you ofta' hen?"
Followed by being swiftly scooped up or pulled into his arms. You will have to explain the condition, he's gonna ask questions. Not that he has any doubts, he's just incredibly curious at how you see the world. He'll listen to every word as you describe it, holding your hand to his cheek. Your thumb brushes over the scar on his chin.
Ghost
Personally I believe Simon would be the most effortlessly accommodating. As soon as he finds out you have this disability, he finds a pretty good solution in his eyes. His balaclava. Not many wear a skull balaclava in fucking daylight. So often he wears it until you at least see him, just so you don't panic and can somewhat recognize him better. Then he'll slip it off.
There's maybe a couple times he doesn't wear it. Most likely he just forgot, arriving home. His stealth can sometimes be a curse when you can't recognize him. Poor doll. Nearly jumped out of your skin seeing some big guy in the corner of the room.
"Fuck- it's me love- jus' me."
He does feel bad about it. But the way your eyes light at his voice never fails to make him smile. Tugging you into his arms. Mumbling an apology for scaring you as he kisses across your skin.
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harmonicakai · 6 months ago
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As Long As You Care
Part 1 of the "Somebody Else" series
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Pairing: Soobin x Reader, Yeonjun x Reader
Summary: From the moment he first met you, Soobin has had the biggest crush on you. The only thing standing in his way is his college roommate, Yeonjun, who you’ve been in love with ever since you were little.
Tropes: love triangle, unrequited love, fake dating, frat boy!yeonjun, nerd!soobin, roommates, college AU, childhood best friends
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: drinking, sexual tension (mdni!), curse words, yj is an asshole
A/N: TBH I feel like this is one of my weakest works so far, but I really like the concept and already have the whole thing planned out, so I will try and see completing it through <3
“If you could see that I'm the one who understands you Been here all along, So why can't you see? You belong with me" —You Belong With Me, Taylor Swift
“If you have a crush on Y/N, then go for it,” Yeonjun laughs, surprised that Soobin would even bother to get his permission, as if he wants your hand in marriage or something.
“Really? You don’t mind?” Soobin blinks back, unsure of whether or not his roommate is being serious. You’ve been friends with Yeonjun since you were little kids, so Soobin figured that running the idea of asking you out by him was surely the right thing to do.
“If you’re worried about whether me and her are more than friends, don’t be. If we were going to start dating, we would’ve when we were in high school. God knows it would’ve made our moms happy.”
“Would you help me then? You know her better than I do,” Soobin continues, eager for tips on how to properly woo you. “Do you know her favorite kind of flowers?”
“Can’t say I do,” Yeonjun shrugs. “Listen, Soob, Y/N is a hopeless romantic. And she’s never even had a boyfriend before. I’m sure whatever you come up with will exceed any and all of her expectations.”
Yeonjun’s excuses for why the moment doesn’t need to be special are precisely why Soobin wants to take so much care in planning things. It would be your first date, first boyfriend, first everything.
Well, except for your first kiss, which Yeonjun had graciously stolen back in middle school, years before he had even introduced you to Soobin. Both of you have asserted that it was only once, and simply for you to get it over with before a school dance in the hopes that your real crush would make a move.
Soobin would be lying to say he doesn’t get jealous of the two of you. Plus, Yeonjun is totally wrong. From what others have said, you’re extremely picky when it comes to guys.
“So, when are you going to ask her?” Yeonjun says, snapping Soobin out of his trance. “She’ll be here any minute if you wanna do it then.”
“She’s coming over now?” Soobin asks, his palms feeling infinitely more sweaty. He hasn’t had any time to do his hair or choose a good outfit, let alone run to the store and pick up any of the little presents he had planned on getting for you.
“We’re going to get breakfast. Some new café she’s been dying to try,” Yeonjun replies, his mouth full of a croissant. Soobin rolls his eyes. If the two of you are about to go out to eat, why the hell is he stuffing his face right now?
Soobin checks his watch. If he leaves now, he’ll surely make it back before the two of you return. “Can you make sure that you guys come here when you’re done?”
“I can make no promises,” Yeonjun sighs, staring at his reflection in the hallway mirror. He throws on a pair of sunglasses, his phone ringing to signal that he’s gotten a text, most likely from you. “Y/N is going to meet me outside. It’s now or never, dude.”
Soobin glances out the window and spots you standing in the courtyard, wearing a floral sundress that hugs you in all the right places. The sunlight shines down on your hair, leaving a glow that makes you look absolutely angelic. He swallows hard.
You’ve made yourself comfortable on a bench just outside, your feet propped up on the arm rest. 
“It looks like she’s been waiting a while,” Soobin observes.
“Yeah, I know,” Yeonjun says nonchalantly. 
“Shouldn’t you hurry up, then?”
“Why are you asking so many questions?” Yeonjun scoffs. “Since you’re so concerned, I’ve got a date after this, okay? Well, if you can even call it that. Point is, I need to look good, and that takes time.”
“I guess I’ll just ask her another day, then,” Soobin sighs in defeat, backing away from the window. He knows better than to push Yeonjun. “Listen, will you do me a favor?”
“Depends on what it is.” Yeonjun is still admiring himself, now unbuttoning even more of his shirt. He might as well go topless at this point, Soobin thinks to himself.
“Could you maybe mention me and see how Y/N reacts?” Soobin asks, adjusting his glasses.
“I will for 30,000 won,” Yeonjun deadpans, not even bothering to look Soobin’s way.
“Are you joking?” 
“No. I don’t care if you guys date, but I certainly won’t be making it easy for you. She’s my friend. If you become her boyfriend and start taking her out, that’s less time she’ll be spending with me.” Sometimes, most of the time, Soobin really hates his roommate.
“You suck,” Soobin says, reaching into his wallet and handing over a few bills. “Here.”
“Pleasure doing business,” Yeonjun grins, pocketing the cash. A knock at the door startles both of them. “Why don’t you get that?”
Soobin heads for the door, knowing you’re on the other side of it. He mentally prepares himself, smoothing his hair into place and checking his breath.
When the door swings open, you’re surprised to see Yeonjun’s roommate staring at you.
“Uh, hi,” you greet him. Soobin holds his breath. You’re even more beautiful up close. “Is Yeonjun ready to go? I’ve been waiting downstairs, for like, ten minutes.”
“I don’t think so,” Soobin says, stepping aside to let you into the dorm’s common room. “You’re welcome to wait, though.”
“Thanks,” you reply, stepping in and spotting your best friend fussing with his hair. “Hi Junie!”
“Hi, Y/N,” Yeonjun smiles. He pulls you into a tight hug. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I didn’t see your texts. I just need a few more minutes, okay?”
Soobin knows his roommate is lying, but he’s not going to be the one to tell you that.
“Oh, yeah, of course,” you say, making yourself comfortable on the couch. You turn your attention to Soobin, who you don’t really know much about. “How’s your morning going, Soobin?”
“It’s good. Great, actually! A little busy, but I like having things to do, you know?”
“Yeah, I get that. What are you up to?”
“Mostly running errands. Then later I have to take some photos of today’s soccer game for the school newspaper, go to jazz band practice, and study for my econ midterm,” he rambles.
“Wow. That’s… a lot.” Your eyes widen, wondering how he manages to juggle that kind of schedule. Sure, you care about extracurriculars too, but never enough to risk burning yourself out.
“Soobin is a real nerd, Y/N. If you ever need a tutor for anything, he’s your guy,” Yeonjun calls from the bathroom.
“Ooh, okay. How are you at multivariable calculus?” you inquire. It’s the class you’ve been struggling with the most this semester.
“Math is unfortunately the one thing I’m bad at,” Soobin admits. He opens his mouth to keep talking, but Yeonjun’s finally returned, at last ready to go. 
Soobin watches as Yeonjun’s hand finds yours, pulling you up off the couch before finding its way around your waist. “Let’s head out, babe.”
“Yay! Okay, well, bye, Soobin!” You wave, being pulled along. “I’ll see you around, I guess.”
Yeonjun drags you out the front door before Soobin can even say goodbye, the sweet scent of your perfume lingering in the air behind you.
Soobin waits a few minutes to make sure the two of you won’t be stopping back in before he faceplants onto the couch, letting out a long sigh. At this point, he isn’t sure if he’ll ever have the chance to tell you how he really feels with your “best” friend standing in the way.
—————-
Soobin’s heart nearly beats out of his chest the second he lays his eyes on you. You’re wearing the same sundress from earlier today, but this time without the slouchy cardigan draped over your shoulders, and your hair is thrown into a perfectly messy updo. To top it all off, you’ve got glitter dusted along your neck and collarbone, making you shimmer under the glow of the frat’s neon lights.
He wants nothing more than to lean down and kiss it all off of you. The only issue is that you’re surrounded by a ton of other partygoers who probably all want to do the same.
You’re the only reason he even bothered to come to this party and he might not even get the chance to talk to you. He may not have been of any help this morning, but at least Yeonjun was decent enough to text Soobin and let him know the two of you would be here tonight.
“Soob! I didn’t think you’d actually come!” Yeonjun’s voice startles him as he claps his roommate on the shoulders from behind, his hands still wet from swimming in the pool. Soobin jerks back, nearly spilling the contents of his red solo cup.
“She looks hot, doesn’t she?” Yeonjun continues, glancing past him to see you twirling your hair as you gently let another guy know he has no chance with you. Soobin hates it when he talks about you this way, even if it’s true. “Did you tell her you’re in love with her yet?”
“We haven’t even talked,” Soobin says, his voice barely reaching above the music’s blast. He stares down at his white sneakers, sticky from the spilled drinks and god knows what else is lining the frat’s linoleum floors. “Did you do what I asked you to, by the way?”
“Shit, sorry, man. I totally forgot. But you know what? Maybe we can change your luck,” Yeonjun smiles, feeling a bit sorry for his lovesick roommate. “Me and a few other people are gonna start a game of spin the bottle in the next room if you want to try and kiss her.”
It’s the opportunity of a lifetime. Except when you spin the bottle and it glides past him, landing instead on Yeonjun, Soobin’s heart plummets into his stomach.
You lean past him with a shy smile on your face, wrapping your arms around your best friend’s neck as he pulls you into the steamiest kiss Soobin has ever seen. It’s enough to make him wonder if maybe the two of you have done this more than just once.
Despite being over in seconds, it feels like hours to Soobin. To make matters worse, when you pull away, your lips wet with Yeonjun’s saliva, you wave at him with the most gorgeous smile in the world.
“Sorry, man,” Yeonjun whispers to Soobin, running a hand through his hair, messed up from where your fingers were just laced through it. “Maybe next round.”
If Soobin could fight, he would’ve certainly thrown a punch straight into his roommate’s jaw. But even though he towers over him by a few good inches, he knows that he’d be out like a light and wake up with a black eye that’ll truly never let him forget about this moment.
When it’s finally his turn, it lands on a girl just a few spots over from you and he does his best not to look disappointed. She’s pretty, for sure, but she’s not you. Soobin plants a quick kiss on her lips and the crowd groans.
“More!” an unfamiliar voice chants. The rest of the players join in, although all Soobin can pinpoint is the sound of you nearby, egging him on to make out with another girl.
He relents, enough alcohol in his system to finally let loose, pulling the girl into a fast, sloppy kiss. The crowd shifts to whooping and hollering, and he sees you giggling with one of your girl friends out of the corner of his eye.
It isn’t until the two of you watch as Yeonjun gropes that same friend seconds after the bottle lands on her that Soobin notices a shift in your mood. Your once everlasting smile has been replaced with a blank stare that unmistakably signals heartbreak.
Soobin would know. He was making the same face just a few minutes ago.
Eventually, the game fizzles out and everybody disperses back into the frat’s crowd, still going strong despite being hours in.
After wandering around the party for a while, Soobin spots you at the keg, frustratedly pouring yourself another beer. From the way you’re stumbling, he knows it’s probably not a good idea for you to actually drink it.
“Hey, wait,” he intervenes, grabbing the plastic cup out of your hand. “Y/N. Maybe you should slow down.”
“Fuck off,” you scoff before turning to see who’s interrupted your binge. Your cheeks heat up at the sight of Soobin, Yeonjun’s roommate. He usually never comes to these things and has only ever been really, really nice to you. “Soobin. I am so, so sorry. I’m just going through it right now.”
“I can see that. Do you want to get some fresh air?”
“Yes, please.” He loops his arm around yours and guides you outside, making sure that you don’t trip on any uneven steps or loose cans. 
If it were Yeonjun, he’d carry you bridal style, letting you nuzzle your head into his shoulder until you reached your dorm room.
“You can have some of mine,” Soobin says, handing over his drink as you steady yourself against the porch’s railing. “It’s just Sprite.”
You nod and gulp the entire cup of soda down, the bubbles tickling your dry throat.
“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” Soobin continues, catching you off guard. You turn to stare at him, eyes wide before you fix your expression to something more nonchalant.
“No, I’m not.” He looks back at you with a frown, letting you know that he’s seen just enough tonight to not believe any of what you’re saying. Soobin doesn’t seem like the kind of person you’d want to lie to, anyway.
“Fine, maybe just a little bit,” you admit, crossing your arms in defeat. “I mean, in general, how are girls like me supposed to compete with girls like her?”
“Lots of guys would kill to be with a girl like you. She’s just more… straightforward.” You can tell he can’t actually come up with a better explanation for why his roommate isn’t into you.
“I kissed him the way I’ve been wanting to for years now. I don’t know how much more straightforward I can get. You know, last week, I asked if there was anything going on between the two of them and he told me she wasn’t his type?”
“Who isn’t Yeonjun’s type?” Soobin laughs awkwardly, regret immediately settling on his face as he realizes he probably shouldn’t have said that. He’s right and you know it, though.
“Please tell me they aren’t making out right now,” you change the subject, hoping and praying that the answer is no.
Soobin glances over his shoulder back into the party to see Yeonjun and your friend entangled, his hands gripping her hips as she grinds into him. “He’s… certainly doing something to her.”
“Wow. Okay, that’s all I needed to hear.” You walk past Soobin to stare at Yeonjun and your friend all over each other. It’s a horrifying scene, but for some reason, you can’t tear your eyes away. “You know, I’d hate to see how he is with a girl he’s actually into. Men really suck sometimes.”
“Y/N, look at me,” Soobin says, his voice the steadiest its been all night.
“Huh?” you ask in confusion. Soobin turns you back around, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. It trembles against your cheek as he leans in close to you.
“We can get back at him,” he whispers, both of your heart rates rising by the second. His breath is hot against your ear. “If you want to.”
You can’t believe the words that have just come out of his mouth. Choi Soobin, Yeonjun’s sweet roommate who has only ever spoken to you in the most polite and platonic way, is offering to help you make your best friend jealous.
Your silence makes him backtrack, the panic in his voice evident. He really has no clue what’s gotten into him. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I was just joking! I didn’t actually mean—”
“Let’s do it,” you say, cutting him off. Before he can protest, you’re pulling him back into the frat house and onto the middle of the dance floor, right next to Yeonjun.
Soobin can barely believe this is happening right now, and if his arms weren’t wrapped around your waist, he’d pinch himself.
Usually, you keep to yourself at parties, kindly entertaining men’s advances, but never giving them the satisfaction of dancing with you. Tonight, you’re breaking all of your own self-imposed rules with the guy you least expected to.
“Kiss me,” you say into his ear, loud enough to fight the music’s volume, but quiet enough for Yeonjun not to hear. Soobin looks at you with sheer panic on his face and you know immediately that he’s incapable of making the first move.
At least that’s what you think before he crashes his lips onto yours. Despite watching him awkwardly make out with someone else earlier, he’s surprisingly good at kissing. There’s a hunger to the way he grabs your waist and pulls you closer that makes you smile into him.
As you feel his soft hair beneath your fingertips, you almost forget why you’re kissing him in the first place. When you finally separate, you turn to see Yeonjun staring at the two of you, a sly grin on his face that makes you question if you’ve made the right decision.
—————-
“That was so humiliating,” you groan, trudging down the sidewalk. Soobin trails you like a puppy dog. “He was happy for us. So much for making him jealous. You know, maybe we should just call this whole thing off now.”
“No!” Soobin panics. “I, uh, I have an idea.”
“Which is?” you say, stopping to look at him. You can tell by the way he stares blankly at you that he doesn’t actually have an answer.
“Well… if we keep this up, then Yeonjun will see how great of a girlfriend you are and he’ll want you for himself! Really, we’ve just gotta give it more time.”
Your head aches, but Soobin does make a little bit of sense. “Fine, okay. How long are you willing to put up with me for?”
Soobin knows he can’t say forever. “Why don’t we try until the end of the semester? If he doesn’t confess his love to you by then, then we’ll stage a break up.”
“Sounds like a deal,” you say, reaching out your hand to shake. Soobin hesitates. “I don’t have cooties, you know. Besides, your tongue was kind of just down my throat back there.”
“Right, sorry,” Soobin says, taking your hand into his. It’s much bigger than you expected, nearly covering yours in its entirety. “Deal.”
“Come on,” you say, continuing your trek back to your dorm. “Let’s go.”
“My room is the other way,” he attempts to remind you. You don’t even bother to look back at him, wanting to get out of the cold and into your bed.
“We’re going to mine. Yeonjun is never going to believe we’re together if he catches you in your own bed tonight.” 
—————-
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kissitbttr · 7 months ago
Text
I SEE YOU (FIRST TIME IS A CHARM)
a/n: a simple first date of frat!miguel and cheerleader!reader after the party
warnings; tiny angst but then turned to comfort<3
miguel sometimes think it would be good if he occasionally pinches himself in the arm. or glen could do it if he wanted to since he’s got quite a grip. enough to make sure he’s not living the dream.
for example, finally scoring a chance to take you out after months of pining on you? not getting rejected by his long time crush?! scratch pinching, somebody slap the dog shit out of him and tell him that this is real,
he had texted beck prior the date that he needed his right hand man to keep tabs on everything at the party. and being the good best friend that he is, beck congratulated him for finally having the balls to actually do it,
beck: so i guess that means we don’t have to hear about you moaning her name again during sleep?
miguel: shut the fuck up, kingsley. do as what you’re told.
beck: aye aye buddy
“so uh.. are you hungry? we could grab something to eat if you want to” he asked you while looking over to the passengers seat
“starving, actually” you replied with a giggle, and he felt his heart skip a beat at the sound. “got any recommendations, o’hara?”
but for a guy who knows his ways around women, he sure is nervous when it comes to you. and fuck, he cursed himself for being like this. he wanted to look cool in front of you, not stupid. what is wrong with him?!
“well we can have something off the diner on 13th street. that’s twenty minutes from campus, though. sushi stop, i know one where they serve the best sashimi. and kebab food truck but i don’t think you-“
“a kebab?!” a gasp fell from your mouth, eyes widening at the sound of middle eastern delicacy. “yes. no doubt. i want it. let’s punch it!”
he swore he’s not the type who falls in love quickly. but the way your eyes twinkle in excitement when he mentioned about kebabs,
he might just have,
he smiled at you before putting his focus back on the road. “kebab food truck it is”
one thing that miguel had forgotten to mention, is that food trucks don’t have tables and chairs. so people either eat them while standing up or inside their cars,
he didn’t want to trouble you at all, because looking at you right now, in a very pretty dress and heels, he doubt. that you actually wanted to eat while standing up,
“i’m so sorry, muñeca. i forgot to say something about this” he scratched the back of his head. eyes looking through the window where the kebab truck is at,
with a shrug you shot him a reassuring smile. “i don’t mind standing up while eating if that’s what you worried about”
he shook his head. “i mind actually. can’t let you eat and get tired while standing. how about we’ll eat in my car and i’ll go order something for you, si? what do you prefer? i swear if it you say vegan, i will leave you”
you laughed at that comment, “no of course not. i’ll get the chicken one, medium sized. and a cold water”
he pulled out his cash from the back pocket, smiling at you. “be right back”
there was definitely something different about him. a good different. one of them was how miguel is not how the people at campus had painted him to be. could be too soon for that conclusion but throughout the car ride, you were extremely sure that miguel is not a jackass.
instead, he had asked about which songs you wanted him to play in his car. whether or not if you’re comfortable and constantly saying sorry if he overstepped. it all seemed so sweet to you,
your friends would probably give you a weird look praising such simple things. the bare minimum. but these days, those ‘bare minimums’ are hard to pluck from a decent person, correct? nothing’s wrong with praising them anyway.
he knocked on the window, pulling you out of the train thoughts, in which you then rolled it down. “here you go, muñeca. the man assumed that it was for me so he put a lot of chicken there, so-“
“it’s fine. i said i was starving anyway” you took it from his hand, the smell of the delicious meal was making your mouth water.
miguel had himself crouched down to your eye level, thumb pointing over his shoulder. “so. standing up? or my car?”
you thought for a while, then an idea came into your mind with a pretty smile. “got a better one”
miguel frowned in confusion at that, watching you opening the door before walking out of the vehicle. and that’s when you and him standing almost chest to chest, unintentionally.
the moment he looked at you, his mind immediately went blank. in that exact moment, he thought that if it was possible to put charges on someone for how they stare with their eyes, yours would be number one.
because it felt like he was getting hypnotized by your beautiful irises and that there’s no turning back for him. he would volunteer to drown himself in them if it means he gets to see those eyes forever,
“—way nicer”
he blinked. mentally slapping himself in the forehead because he had just realized he wasn’t listening to you at all, too busy day dreaming about your gaze.
“i’m sorry, w-what were you saying?”
an amused smile made it towards your lips, “i said, we could sit by the pavement here. it’s way nicer. we could act like one of those drunk people after night out.”
“but we’re not drunk, muñeca”
“i said act, miguel” you reply in a duh tone, closing the door behind before guiding him to one of the empty ones where it’s not taken, “see? this one’s good spot”
one thing he noticed, you were wearing a pretty dress. “wait!” miguel then rushed towards the back of his car to grab a jacket before going back to you and laying it down on the asphalt. “there. now you can sit”
that one made your heart flutter, eyes moved up to him. “miguel you can’t just do that. your jacket will get dirty”
“I don’t mind. they made washing machine for a reason. i wasn’t going to let your dress get dirty anyway. the color is too pretty” he smiled, finally taking a seat on the rough surface with you following his actions after,
it was quite a cold night, and you regret not bringing a jacket along with you. what even was this weather? sometimes it’s hot, sometimes it’s rainy and sometimes you couldn’t even fucking predict it,
you tried not to let the chills get to you, because it seemed like miguel wasn’t really bothered by it. this man had his whole arms out in a muscle tank and he sat still like it was nothing,
“this is the best kebab i have ever tasted�� you moaned with your eyes close on you had the first bite, chewing on the sweet delish,
miguel tried not to let his mind wander when he saw you doing that. “you like it?”
“like?! i love it! miguel this is amazing!” eyes turning into hearts when you gaze the food upon your hands, “how did you find this perfect place?”
“me and the guys often tried to find new places to eat other than burgers and hot dogs after parties and football practice” he settled his legs down, crossing them. “saw this truck while passing by and decided to give it a go”
you hummed. “do you do that a lot?”
“do what a lot?”
“partying” you took another bite, looking over at him as he raised his brows at the question,
“w-well” he chuckled nervously, thinking of a better way to answer. “if i’m being honest, i don’t enjoy it… as much as i did before”
“really?”
“yeah. it was fun at first. partying, getting shit faced… feels lame now. also, probably because now i think of alcohol are just empty calories”
“is that why you wanted to take me out? so you didn’t have a reason to stay there?”
his eyes turned wide, shaking his head in panic mode. “what? no! no of course not! i wanted to! i mean—it just felt like it was the perfect timing! and i— I—so—didn’t i tell you i have a crush on you?!”
with that, you laughed. placing a hand over his knee. “just joking, miguel”
oh fuck you’re touching him.
‘keep it cool, miguel’ he thought,
“oh-oh right, right. sorry” he replied, clearing his throat. still feeling nervous. “you know, i rarely see you at our weekly parties. only gloria and some of your friends.” he pointed out. wiping some of the sauce from the corner of his lips,
you answered. “not really my scene”
“you don’t like parties?”
“not really. i prefer when it’s just a few people that i know. not a whole campus. i like it better when it’s intimate”
“why is that?” he couldn’t help but ask,
“so i can hear people better when they talk. i love having a conversation”. it’s simple really. and it’s true.
you haven’t gone out to wild parties or clubs in a while, and it was safe to say that your life is truly at peace now. not saying that you would turn down any offer to go to one, but you just don’t do it as often,
waste of money and energy. simple things like sleeping before eleven, waking up early, getting your work done and having walks or working out regularly have been your main priorities now,
“ah, i see” he nodded at that, a smile appeared on his face. “intimate party yeah? i keep that in mind”
you raised one of your brows. “you don’t have to just because i said so, miguel”
he shrugged, taking another bite of his food “if that’s what i have to do just so i could see you around more often”
his response completely took you by surprise. and you had no clue what to say to that. fluttered? sure, that’s why you tried to suppress the smile on your face by looking away. you were quite thankful that it was dark out. that way, he wouldn’t be able to see the blush prominent on your cheeks.
the two of you sat there in comfortable silence for a while. devouring the perfect late night meal while watching the cars go by, accompanied by mindless chatters from left to right,
it did come to a surprise that you and miguel have a lot more in common than you think. something that you didn’t see coming. hell, you didn’t even think that you would actually converse with the head of a fraternity and captain of a football team.
a person whom you always try to avoid ever since freshmen year.
“another thing—why haven’t i seen you in lots of my games?”
“miguel, i come to your games. i’m the cheerleader for crying out loud”
“what i meant was why have you never stick around? you do your part and then poof! you’re gone”
raising an eyebrow, you eye him. “are you stalking me now?” he laughs at the accusation, but it’s not entirely false. “i have no reason to stay, why would i stick around?”
“not even for me?” he fakes a dramatic gasp, hand over his chest as if he’s actually hurt. “that pains me, muñeca”
“you’re getting way ahead of yourself, o’hara” you reply with an eye roll but smile anyway,
miguel then looks at the road, shaking his head. “unbelievable. and here i thought about handing you my jersey for you to wear next at our championship game”
and man, did your heart somehow stop for a second there.
because miguel o’hara do not give away his jersey numbers. not the real one nor the merch ones.
“you’re joking?”
“why would i be?” miguel turned his head at you, finding it is much better to look at you rather than the busy road ahead of him,
shrugging, you looked down at your open kebab. “people talk about how your jerseys are off limits. you don’t give away those numbers for anyone”
“well” he breathed out, chewing his lower lip while fiddling with his fingers. “you’re not just anyone to me”
a breath hitched on your throat when his ruby eyes met with your pretty ones once more. and he made a mental note on how your smile deflated in seconds after he said that,
and fuck fuck fuck, he didn’t mean to make you feel weird or uncomfortable. it was the last thing he wanted to do. because he did feel like he was confessing too much to you that night.
but what could he have done?! he likes you and you make him nervous. put the two and two together, and miguel would sputter bunch of shit from his mouth without actually thinking,
“shit” he shook his head, looking away from embarrassment. “i didn’t—I didn’t mean to say that— i mean, i did but—sorry if it made you feel weird. that was too straight forward”
you couldn’t lie, it was rather entertaining to see the captain of a football team and the so called ‘player of campus’ stumble upon his words like that. usually, you would simply roll your eyes and brushed every single guy who had said that to you. because you knew all they wanted to do was to get into your pants,
however miguel looked genuine. and by how fast his cheeks were warming to the color of crimson red or how he scratched the tip of his ears was pretty explanatory,
he wasn’t trying to get into your pants,
instead of giving him a dirty look, you just smiled shyly at him who looked down on his lap. probably re-thinking about his life choices.
“that’s cute” you managed to mumble, scooting a bit closer to his body. putting the half of kebab down beside you. “you actually like me, huh?”
he scoffed at the silly thought, as if the answer to that question had already been written well enough. “i really like you” he confessed, craning his head towards you and he almost passed out on how close you were to him. “makes me go crazy every time i see you, muñeca—i counted the times that you looked at me for just one split second and i died on days that you didn’t”
the way he spoke so carefully and lovingly with you was truly something you had longed from someone. took you by surprise just how much it meant to him for something so simple like wanting you to look at him for once,
one that you didn’t expect miguel o’hara would have said,
“yeah?” and this time, your voice wavered a little. almost like he made his mission accomplished by making you nervous too. “have you been gawking at me then?”
“god you made it sound like i’m a creep” he shook his head out of embarrassment making you laugh. “not gawk—just simply admiring you from afar—during class and your cheerleading practice. but it’s not a weird ass admiring or something like that. hope that’s okay”
it was. indeed it was.
because before this happened, you always assumed that miguel was the typical jock that romcoms have always shown. heartless, player, annoying, screw ups, and the list goes on.
but fuck was he different.
“more than okay” you responded rather quietly, letting your shoulder touched with his and it made miguel’s eyebrows quirk upwards,
and the moment miguel let his eyes looked into yours for more than twenty seconds, he knew for the second time that night—he was in. hooked line and sinker.
you pulled him in deeper than anyone had ever did without you even realizing. he hadn’t even shared a three hour conversation with you. this is the longest he had spoken with the girl he had a crush on,
miguel gulped by the sight of your pretty lips and doe eyes looking up at him. the innocence twinkled within your gaze and he had to refrain himself from kissing you out in the street,
it was one of the hardest thing he had to do that night,
“i just wanted you to give me a chance” he admitted, resting his arms on his knees as he stared at you. “to look at me as me—not as someone who people had spread rumors about on campus—because i’m not that— i don’t sleep around, i promise I don’t”
it was a weird feeling on how your heart broke a little by how defeated he sounded at the moment. his eyes were soften, voice turned small. he was begging silently for you to look past the ‘playboy miguel’ talk from the people that barely even knows him,
he didn’t care if others don’t believe him but he cared if you did.
that’s the only approval he needed,
“i want you to see me” he shyly continued when you chose not to say anything, only looking at him with your widening eyes. “that’s all”
trust has always been something you struggle with from time to time. because it’s easier said than done.
relationships are indeed not your strongest virtue. you shared some in the past but not all of it were pretty except for one. and you haven’t even heard about that person in a long time but you did wish he was okay.
it is unbelievably difficult to put your heart upon someone else’s hands and asking them to take care of it knowing how easy it would be for them to break it along the way,
which was the reason why you avoided miguel in the first place,
to say you hate him with all of your guts and soul would probably be too much. you wouldn’t go that far. you hardly know the man.
but you were persuaded by the gossips and girl talk scattered throughout campus. how he used girls for sex, only to dump them the next day. despite gloria telling you the opposite, you refused to believe her. you were solemnly only trying to protect yourself.
yet only now the guilt was eating you alive. why didn’t you even try to find out for yourself instead of listening to a gang of plastics who love to start off disgusting rumors about others?
looking at him now just made your heart clenched and for your head tilt to the side, just so you can look at him a bit better. you wanted to look at his eyes. you wanted him to not avoid your gaze because you understood now,
more clearer than ever.
“i do. i see you, miguel” you placed a hand on top of his, gently rubbing the skin until his ruby eyes turned to you at the sudden affection,
miguel’s heart almost did a somersault at your smile. even more to the words you had chosen to say next,
“i see you, baby”
reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! it would make my day:)
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