#stay tuned for chapter eight!

[ldysmfrst]

American Mate - (5) Heated Discussions (M)

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 5 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 3,354 (sorry it is so short)

Work count for Story: 20,717

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children. One of which is special needs, and on 3/28, they lost 75% of their vision. I started a Patreon if you feel the heart to donate towards helping with the medical costs of appointments, medication, and modifications to the house, which insurance doesn't cover.

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter has injury, anxiety, arguments, comfort, Alpha Space, forced close proximity, and scenting.

This chapter has a slightly mature scene at the end. At the start of the mature scene, the following banner will be displayed:

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

Keep Safe.

Keep Safe.

First, it was Taehyung, and now it's Yoongi. Alpha Space seems to be no joke. Derek was not lying when he said this mindset helps them protect. Let’s hope this doesn’t mean they will treat you like a child or someone incompetent.

Walking out of the elevator, you cannot help but smile softly at the rest of the Bangtan pack. While still in pain and minorly intimidated by the bodyguards, you felt safe around them. 

“Excuse me, Miss Y/n. I have a few things that I would like to discuss with you before we get going. Allow me to walk you to your van,” Manager Sejin directs you off to the side with a nod from Namjoon. 

Yoongi closely follows you as you go with Manager Sejin. “Miss Y/n, thank you for your care and consideration in this situation. I can promise you that it will not be easy for the eight of you, but it will be worth it.”

As he speaks, you feel a tail wrap around your waist, and a hand touches your back. Looking over your shoulder, you see that Yoongi has his hand on your upper back but keeps looking away from you towards his packmates. 

You notice that the group has gathered in a circle as if something significant is being discussed. Not wanting to keep Yoongi from doing something important, you look back at the manager, asking, “Manager Sejin, I do not feel so well. Can you please take me to the van? I would like to sit down and process things.”

He nods, moves towards the van in front, and opens the sliding door.

“Mr. Min,” you smile softly at the jaguar as he looks at you, keeping an ear tuned in to his mates. “I am going to go sit in the van. I am sure that I will be fine there while I wait for you and your packmates.”

Adding a bit of a pout to your smile, you ask, “Can you go and make sure everything is okay so that we can go? My hand is really starting to hurt?”

“Yes. Van safe. Manager Safe. Go packhouse now.” Yoongi responds.

After exiting the elevator, Taehyung makes to stay with you, Yoongi, and the manager but is stopped by Jungkook. The younger one knows Taehyung would want to be a part of the discussion that is soon to come, even if he is still in Alpha Space.

After you had gone far enough away with Yoongi and their manager, the remaining packmates circled up at the youngest's request. Automatically, the mates seek comfort in one another. It’s one thing to find your mate but another to find a human mate.

Jungkook hugs Taehyung from behind, while Jimin hugs Hoseok around the waist as he leans against Seokjin.

Most of the pack had been through finding mates since there were six of them before you came along. Jungkook was the only one who understood the concept of what to do with a new mate but had never been on this side of the situation. 

“There are two vans. Obviously, Yoongi will be going in the van with Y/n, but who is going with them?” asks Jungkook, looking around as it dawns on them that the vans only fit five people in the back. Each mate immediately started proposing why they had to be in the same van as you, all at once. 

Seokjin said he only got to speak to you before the observation room and needed to see if his Alpha would react like everyone else has so far.

Hoseok tops everyone, saying that he has only ever gotten to look at you and that it's high time he was able to speak to the newest mate.

Jimin agrees with Hoseok and thinks he can help get Yoongi out of Alpha Space on the trip to the packhouse.

Taehyung keeps quiet, his Alpha Space pulling at him to be near you again soon. However, Taehyung’s Alpha was much calmer and understood that being the second youngest meant he would most likely not be allowed to go. 

Jungkook argues that he was the one who got you to calm down in the break room, and your instincts are already reacting to him. Therefore, he is the best person to keep you calm from here on out.

Rubbing his temples, Namjoon lets out a sigh. He said you were ‘no trouble,’ but you really are gonna be trouble for them, but not in a way he is worried about. It's just going to be a change in dynamic.

“Guys, we all want to spend time with our new mate, but we must remember that she is human and doesn’t understand. Right now, all she knows is that Yoongi is deep in Alpha Space, and we, as a pack, must help her situation,” explains Namjoon.

“How are we going to tell her, Hyung? If her family member's statement is true, she won’t believe us,” Jimin says, looking your way, ears flat in concern.

“That is a good question. I don’t have an answer right now,” laments the wolf hybrid.

“We may not have much time to come up with something. She needs to know. She needs to understand,” Hoseok voices with watery eyes. If what that man upstairs said truly is the kind of person you are, they must help you grow to recognize yourself. 

Moving to hug Hoseok with the others, Jungkook adds, “She may know about hybrids, but she doesn’t know enough about the Alpha-side of the culture, and what’s even worse is that she doesn’t know how precious she is.”

“That’s it! I go in van. Show mate real!” Taehyung finally speaks up.

He turns to walk toward you with a puffed tail and determination, only to be stopped by Seokjin saying, “No, you have spent time with her. She knows you care, but she still thinks I am looking at one of the playmates they introduced us to. I am going to go with her.”

Within seconds, they are back to all talking over each other. Each of them demanded the other stay behind with justifications. This time, Namjoon joins in the fray. None of them notice that you have entered the van, and Yoongi is standing just outside the circle, watching the hushed chaos. 

With a stern voice that is just a bit louder than everyone else, Yoongi declares, “Packhouse, go now. Mate in pain.”

Silence takes over the group as they all look in your direction. Though you are inside the van, they can still see you. Taking in your appearance, they notice your wrist keeps swelling more, your face is paler, and you are bouncing your leg with nerves.

"Yoongi-hyung is right. We need to go. Yoongi, Hoseok, Jungkook, and I will go with Y/n. The rest of you will go in the other van,” Pack Alpha says with a hint of his Alpha voice, trying his best to get everyone going. 

“No,” Seokjin counters. “I pull the eldest card. Kookie, I am sorry, but you should go with the others and help with Tae. I want to talk with her.”

“Hyuuunnnnggg,” whined the youngest, “fine, I will sit in the reject van.” Jungkook stomps off to the second van. His ears droopy, and his shoulders rounded like a scolded child.

“We got our bun,” Jimin says as he follows, pulling the still crystal-eyed Taehyung along, muttering promises of scenting, nesting, and various kinds of cuddles if the Alpha joins him and the bunny in the second van.

Approaching the front van, Manager Sejin opened it for you, helping you inside. You noticed that the driver was already inside as well.

“Oh, hello. My name is Y/n, sorry for any delay to the schedule,” you smile and nod apologetically to the man at the steering wheel.

Shaking his head, the man turned to you and said, “Not a problem Miss Y/n, Mr. Park always runs late anyways. My name is James, I will be your driver for today. Do you have a music preference?”

“The boys will want to talk with her, Mr. Green,” interrupts Manager Sejin.

Nodding, James smiles, “Well then how about some soft jazz instrumentals for some background noise?”

“Oh, do you have any Miles Davis?” you ask.

Pulling up the satellite radio, James searches for your request, and several options pop up. Leaning forward, you find one called Cozy Fall Jazz Vibes, and you point it out to him, “What about that one?”

“Oh, I have listened to that one before. Nice choice, most people around your age don’t know enough about jazz even to know who Miles Davis or any of the others listed, Miss Y/n,” complements James.

“Music is the gateway to the soul and an escape route for emotions, Mr. James,” you say with a far-off look in your eye. “Besides, I think we are closer in age than you realize.”

“You have to be like 24, maybe 26,” comments James, which causes you to laugh.

“Add about a decade. I am 35, Mr. Green,” you say light-heartedly. You had lost count of the times people guessed you to be the wrong age.

Both James and Manager Sejin’s eyes go round with shock. It’s Manager Sejin who speaks up first, “You’re an 80 what… 85-liner?”

“No, unless her birthday hasn’t hit yet, she is a 1986 baby like me,” smiles the driver. “What do you do? Bathe in the blood a virgin or something?”

Snickering, you shake your head, answering, “Nope, I rarely do anything because it feels like acid on my skin but when I do its just some basic face wash, sometimes lotion, and I hardly wear sunblock.”

“Lucky, I look like someone ran me over with a car and backed up again,” teases James.

“No, you don’t!” You scoff and then say, “Since we are so close in age, why don’t you drop the Miss, and I will drop the Mr.? We can speak comfortably.”

“Sure thing!” A beep on his cell phone from a text pulls his attention for a moment before he excuses himself from the van to make a call while you all wait for whatever the pack is discussing.

Taking a seat in the van, you notice two captain chairs and a bench seat. Not knowing where everyone else sat, you figured Yoongi’s Alpha would practically require him to sit near you, which meant the bench seat would be the best. 

Sitting in the middle of the bench but on the edge of the seat, you bounce your leg while you wait because your anxiety is still bugging you. Your wrist is throbbing now as you cradle it like Yoongi did, but it just didn’t have the same pain-relieving effect. 

You wish you had something to drink as you eye the bottles of water sitting in the different cup holders. Wishing they had something more potent or painkillers, you keep quiet, and your eyes return to watching the group talk.

Noticing where your line of sight was, Manager Sejin grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler built into the center console in the front of the van, opened it, and held it out to you, asking, “Would you like something to drink? We only have water.”

Taking the bottle of water with a shy smile, you mumble, “Oh, thank you, Sir. I didn’t want to take something that belonged to the pack.”

Shaking his head, Manager Sejin can smell your nervousness as his eyes flit over your form. Then he takes a quick look at the pack. They are still deep in discussion. Finally, he looks you in the eye with a sigh. He says, “Miss y/n, may I give you some advice?”

Swallowing your water quickly, you give him your full attention and nod.

“You are a person. A person that has needs, wants, and desires. Don’t be afraid to speak up. Ask for things. Demand things. I know they can be a bit much, trust me, but they are each a person just like you. Idol or not,” Manager Sejin says with a fond but honest smile.

At the sound of footsteps, both of you look to see some of them approaching. Before he moves to the front seat, he says, “They will be there for you.” 

You are not sure what was more surprising.

The fact that the two captain's chairs could turn to face the backseat or that Yoongi allowed you to be sandwiched between his older packmates.

Seokjin entered first. He sat on the bench to your left, and you hurried over to give him room. This was short-lived because next came Hoseok.

Hoseok gracefully wiggled his way to your right side on the bench. No wonder he was a dance god, you thought to yourself as you dropped your eyes to the floor to avoid watching his chest and hips pass your face.

This puts you in the middle and makes you unable to keep any respectful distance between yourself and them. Feeling a blush creep up your neck and face as the two men’s bodies pressed against your larger form, you move to sit on one of the other chairs. 

“Sit. Safe. Hyungs…hmmm…” Yoongi starts to explain, but his Alpha Space limits his words since he and his Alpha don’t want to give too much information about you being their mate just yet.

“Sit, please, doll. Yoongi-hyung will want to sit near the door to be your first line of defense. I guess you could say,” Hoseok speaks up gently, pulling at your elbow and guiding you back to your seat.

“Yes. Keep Safe. Guard.” Yoongi says with the look of a drill sergeant on his face as he takes the chair near the door. Namjoon, having already taken his seat in the other chair, spun it to face you after a short conversation with the driver and their manager.

“Guarding the door, got it but I could sit in the chair and Mr. Prime Alpha could sit with you. I am sure it would be more comfortable with him here than with me,” you say, pointing to the man you are talking about.

Next thing you know, you are face-to-face with Seokjin as he leans his chest across your body to buckle you in. You hold your breath as you make eye contact with his deep, intelligent eyes.  

“I do hope you are not implying what I think you are,” Seokjin comments while handing Hoseok your seatbelt.

His eyes are searching yours for something. As your blush deepens, a smirk grows on his face before he says, “You are much cozier to sit with than Joon, Miss Y/n.”

You are dizzy at the thought of making yourself ‘cozy’ with Seokjin. Blinking rapidly, you try to return to this reality and out of the gutter as you chuckle a response, “Ah, cozy, ha ha, I don’t think Gabriel Iglesias uses that in his levels.”

A mixture of hissing and growls fills the van. Your eyes snap up to see that Seokjin is the one hissing as he sits back correctly in his seat. Looking over, you see Namjoon’s jaw is set, and Yoongi’s eyes have narrowed as they growl. 

Instinctually, you lean away from the dangerous noise makers, which causes you to press against Hoseok. Placing a hand on your elbow, he leans forward, whispering in your right ear, “Doll, I think you have had some rather mean and disrespectful people around you in your past, but you are with us now.”

Hoseok glances around at his bonded mates as he smirks, saying, “We do not allow for anyone to be self-deprecating. From the look on Yoongi’s face this isn’t the first time you have done this.”

Not taking your eyes off the three men whom you seemed to piss off yet again, “It’s not self-deprecation. It’s pointing out the truth, which helps me stay grounded.”

A soft hiss is heard in your ear, causing you to jolt forward, only to be stopped by an arm that has appeared now around your waist. Hoseok chuckles as he pulls you back against his chest. His warm breath only adds warmth to your already heated skin. 

Whispering in your other ear, “While it is nice that you are so instinctually responsive to us, Doll. You must learn to listen when you are told something. In time you will believe what we tell you as well.”

While time in the van seemingly stops and sound becomes non-existent, the focus is on you as you battle your various reactions. 

Your body responds in a mix of ways. The lean but fit body pressed against your back warms you, causing your heart rate to race. However, the deep chuckles, hot breath on your neck, and primal eyes watching you cause heat to start pooling lower on your body.

Your mind is back in your damn nightmare because you cannot seem to go more than five minutes without causing some adverse reaction from the world’s most famous male All-Alphen K-pop band.

To top it off, you are internally scolding yourself for losing your professionalism when all you want to do is figure out how to make them stop being upset at you and hide before they notice that you are getting riled up over basically nothing.

Your gutter of a mind now takes the nightmare of being hunted by the pack of Alphas in a much different direction. 

“Kookie! Kookie! Come on, bun. You know Jin-hyung is only trying to find ways to help,” Jimin coos at the upset bunny hybrid. Shaking his head, Jimin wonders why it is his job to always to calm down these two lovebirds. Guess it’s the price to pay for being the Hyung of the Maknea line.

Realizing Jungkook is a lost cause, Jimin undoes his seatbelt and sits in Taehyung’s lap, gaining his attention. Jimin asks, “Alpha, is this, okay? We really need Tae Tae back to help with Kookie and our newest mate. If I scent you well, can you let go?”

The crystal blue eyes look over his slightly older mate, “Scent then help mates.”

Smiling sweetly at the Alpha, Jimin noses at his jaw, causing the tiger to tilt his head to grant more space. Scooting forward and resting fully on Taehyung’s thighs, Jimin rubs his cheek along the taller Alpha’s jawline. Soft puffs of warm air blow across the Tiger’s neck, causing the Alpha’s breath to hitch. 

Continuing his scenting journey, Jimin sniffs down the tip of his ear, down his neck to the bend where the scent of ebony wood is most robust. Pressing a soft kiss to the gland, the scent of ebony wood, oranges, and vanilla mixes.

It is not long before the pouting bunny hybrid starts to watch his hyungs. Long forgotten is the reason why he is upset as he slowly releases his own calming cinnamon-like scent into the mix. 

Realizing that he has successfully got one of the two mates into a better mood, Jimin ups the ante. Shifting his weight forward, he lays his body flush against Taehyung. Within moments, Taehyung’s hand gripped Jimin’s tiny waist, pulling him in tighter.

Chirping happily at the response, Jimin kisses up and down Taehyung’s neck. When Taehyung starts to scent Jimin back, Jimin nips over the scent gland and laves it with his tongue, mixing their scents deeper.

Soon, the youngest joined them on the bench, sniffing the air and whining. Shifting closer, his bunny tail wiggled, and his ears stood as tall as they could inside the van.

“Tae-hyung, Minnie-hyung, can I join? Please?” Jungkook asks as he softly places a hand on Jimin’s thigh. 

Nodding, Jimin moves to the other side of Taehyung’s neck, and Jungkook takes his place. Drowning the spaced-out Alpha in the loving scents of his two mates.

Previous / Next

The extended scenting scene for this chapter featuring the BTS Maknae Line can be found on Patreon with a membership if you follow this link. If you would like to read the extension teaser, please follow this link.

Taglist - CLOSED

@braveangel777 @bethanysnow @smileykiddie08 @kayways @danielle143 @nenefix-on @im-gemmy @fluffy-canada-pancakes @staytinyville @juju-227592 @levislifeline @carolinexkpop @m00njinnie @drenix004 @singukieee @avadakadabra93 @dazzlingjade @sehun096rainbow @sunshinecallie @seoullove96 @reallysparklychaos @tired7o7 @channiespup @cryingpages

[loveshotzz]

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap seven/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

Bad Idea

summary: After a week of avoiding, you find Steve at your front steps.

wc: 4.3k

warnings: 18+ series for future chapters. Steve and Reader have THE talk, we learn Steve & Emma’s story. There will be discussions of feelings about watching a loved one struggle with terminal illness and death in this chapter. There’s not a ton of details about her struggles but it is touched on. Angsty beginning and a very, very fluffy end 🧡

author’s note: it’s all up hill from here guys, just a little growing pains. i can’t believe there’s only three chapters left after this 🥺 thank you for reading and all of the sweet reblogs and messages through out this whole series. you have made this so special for me and it’s been such a comfort to write as I navigate my own life changes right now.

🌇 <- chapter six -> chapter eight

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The tune:

End of June -

It had been a week since Steve came back from his camping trip. A week of good morning texts left unanswered, of making sure not to look out your window when you knew he was home - even when you could hear him play with Bandit. He was doing that outside more than usual, a tactic to try and get you to come out and talk to him or hell, even just look at him. 

He doesn’t know that a few times it almost worked. 

Always & Forever

The words engraved into silver also stay carved deep and fresh in your mind, not letting you forget. You couldn’t, even if you tried. Especially not her beautiful eyes. Does she hate you? Part of you feels like you would hate you. The guilt threatens to punch the air out of your lungs.

The days go on like this with you doing everything in your power to avoid him while he did everything he could to run into you. The last ditch effort was after you caught him getting out of his car, your eyes meeting for a split second before you cut through the alley walking in through the back gate instead. Your resolve to stay away grows weaker when Steve’s good morning texts finally stop after that. 

So when Brad, the new server, gets the courage to ask you out, you say yes. It was a bad idea, anyone could’ve told you that, you didn’t really want him. He was just a distraction from facing the consequences of your own actions.  

He takes you to RPM Steakhouse in the heart of downtown and surprisingly he actually makes you laugh. He’s full of food industry horror stories he’s collected over the years. He’s not boring and he’s attentive when you talk, asking questions like he’s really interested. The butterflies that have built a home in your rib cage don’t flutter and fly for him though. The nerves that make your heart beat faster, the ones that feel like they vibrate from your fingertips, like your skin is on fire, are stagnant. 

He’s not Steve. 

You skip out on dessert when it’s offered to you, but you let him hug you before you get in your separate Uber’s home. It worked for a few hours at least. Looking out the window when your car hits the expressway, the skyline shines gleaming like the stars in the clear night sky.

It’s not very long until your phone fights for your attention, the screen illuminating the backseat. It pulls you back to reality, your breath catching when it’s not Brad’s name that flashes across your screen.

Steve

Can we please just talk? 

You aren’t expecting to see him at your front steps when the Uber drops you off at your gate. His hair sticks out wild at the ends, like he’s been pulling it all night, scratch that, all week and it makes more guilt settle deep in your gut. The scruff on his jaw is almost dark enough to be a beard now. His legs are covered in gray sweats and the white undershirt he wears fits tight over his shoulders. You hate how handsome he still is, even with his slides and socks.

He’s talking to himself, moving his hands like he’s trying to explain something, reciting a speech you can’t quite hear from as far as you are. The leftovers shift in your bag when you take your first step making the styrofoam squeak and plastic crinkle, his eyes shoot up instantly at the noise.

“Honey?”

Those wings start to stretch and flutter even after just one word. You wish you could be mad at how much power one word from him has, but all you feel is the weight of how much you missed him when his face softens.

“Hi Steve.” You catch the way his lips twitch at the sound of his name coming from your mouth when you open the gate. It had been too long for him, he’d become addicted to it without even knowing it.

He stands up, his eyes can’t help but roam your bare legs that sit exposed in your black cocktail dress, or the way the middle sinches into your waist, before fluttering out over the tops of your thighs. His own jealousy threatens to bubble over at the thought of you wearing this for someone else. He needs you to understand him.

“Is this a bad time?” He asks, scratching the back of his neck while he reads the restaurant name on your bag. He hopes whoever took you there isn’t coming back. “If it is sweetheart, I can give you more space. I just, I just wanted to see you.”

You stop in front of him, further away than normal but close enough to smell the cigar smoke that still clings to the cotton of his shirt. It mixes with the spice of his cologne from earlier this morning. His eyes find yours without hesitation, glazed over from the glass of whiskey you’re sure he nursed before finding himself on your front steps. They shimmer under the moon like emeralds and you just want to get lost in them.

The answer you want to give and the answer that you think will protect you are at each other’s throats, constricting yours from giving him anything right away. His face crumbles a little when his question is met with silence. You don’t want him to go.

“No, it’s not a bad time.” It comes out before you can fight it.

The smile that tugs at Steve’s lips warms your face like the summer sun, his hand reaching out for you before pulling back and finding a new home deep in his pocket instead. Baby steps. Your arm brushes against his when you walk past him, the smallest touch lighting the match.

“I just need to get out of this dress.” You can’t look at him when you pull at the fabric as if to show him how uncomfortable it is.

“Should I wait down here?” He clears his throat a little unsure of himself as he watches you dig through your purse. He didn’t think he’d get this far.

Cicadas buzz loud against the jingle of your keys in the beat of silence it takes you to unlock the front door. The stale air of the walkway hits you like an oven when you push it open, the heat making your skin stick more than it did outside.

“You can come up. I promise my dishes are done this time.” You flash him a smirk from over your shoulder watching the way your gesture makes him relax like you’d intended, secretly enjoying the blush you still can get to flush his cheeks so easily. 

Steve hadn’t been inside your apartment since the day he fixed your sink, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing him here. He’s handsome in a timeless way, still somehow put together even in his disheveled state. You watch the way he takes in his surroundings like he wants to commit it all to memory not knowing that he actually is, just in case this all blows up in his face and you never let him come back here again. 

The only noise that fills the room is the loud whirr of your A/C and it’s your turn to clear your throat.

“Umm, feel free to take a seat. I’ll be really quick.” You awkwardly gesture towards your green couch, grimacing when your mind goes back to the beautiful leather one at his place. 

He just nods, rubbing his palms against his thighs while taking one last look around before sitting. Your nose scrunches when you see how deep he sinks down, maybe a used couch wasn’t the best idea you’d ever had.

You wait till your door is shut to let out the long breath you feel like you’ve been holding this whole time. The familiar thumping in your chest returns ten fold. He’s in your living room.  

You try not to think too much about the yoga shorts and oversized shirt you change into, especially when your muscles relax, no longer strained by the tight nylon material dress. Allowing a single once over in your long mirror, you force yourself back out, the creak of your door alerting him of your return. His stare makes goosebumps dance across sticky skin in a battle with the air conditioning.

“Do you want some water?” You try to sound casual when you ask, keeping your back to him so he can’t see the way you’re still buying time.

“S- sure,” he stutters out, a cough following and you hear the way the cushions respond to his weight as he tries leaning forward. 

Now it's the whirr of your a/c and the grumbling of the ice machine that silences the unspoken feelings that are begging to come out. Scratching and clawing their way to the surface, the cracks in your facade start getting deeper the longer you stay quiet.

Steve breaks first.

“I think there’s a conversation we should have.” He pauses before starting over, “There’s a conversation I want to have.”

You freeze when the realization of where you left the watering can smacks you right in the face.

“Steve-“ you start, unable to meet his eyes and he’s quick to cut you off.

“Listen, I have some things I need to say and you should at least let me get it off my chest if you’re just going to pretend I don’t exist now.” His words make you realize the selfishness that hides under your insecurities of not being good enough for someone like him. 

He stands up when you turn around, both of you staying on opposite sides of the room. He takes a shaky breath before dragging his fingers through his hair.

“I didn’t think I’d ever feel these things again with anyone else, I was sure of it actually and then you showed up in your horribly packed moving truck.” He laughs a little like he’s still wrapping his head around all of it, and he knows if the situation was any different you’d roll your eyes at him for the teasing jab.

“You brought all of these things out of me that I thought I’d lost for good. Like, I can’t remember the last time I cared about what I was wearing when I left the house, but the past month I’ve been obsessed about it. Like what if she’s outside? What if she’s looking out her window? What if she wants to talk to me?” The veins in his neck show themselves as he gets more worked up but he’s not done yet.

“Then last week when you showed up at my front gate, looking even prettier than the last time I saw you, because you do that somehow, I couldn’t help myself around you anymore. The fact that you were actually going to kiss me back after I put the worst moves on you made me feel like I won the lottery or something.” His gaze meets yours to make sure he isn’t scaring you off before taking a deep breath.

“And then, and then you just - you just left without so much as a reason why. It was pretty clear though when I got home, and maybe that’s my fault because I feel like I’m doing this all backwards but you didn’t give us a chance to even talk about it.”

Steve looks like his world is falling apart, and the things he’s saying make you feel like anything but a second choice. You wish you could go back to that rainy day at his house and do things over again.

“I wasn’t given the shot at a fair fight the first time something special was taken from me, but I have one now and I’m not walking away unless you kick me out.” He straightens his shoulders a little before another anxious hand runs through his wild hair. His chest heaves as he finally gets out what’s been sitting just below the surface the whole time, his fears revealing themselves behind flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. 

The feeling like you’re slighting another woman who isn’t here is hard to navigate. It makes your own eyes sting but you don’t let the tears fall. Not when he’s handing his heart to you like he means it.

“I’d never kick you out,” your words come out quiet - soft, a stark contrast to the way his boomed loud with conviction, but he doesn’t miss them.

Hope starts to sprout deep in his chest for the first time in years.

“Never?” He breathes, relief relaxing the hard lines on his face while he looks at you from under his lashes.

His feet take him those few steps closer and when you make no moves to tell him to stop he keeps going. The sadness that plagues his handsome features slowly starts to fade and the bags under his eyes become more obvious. You want to kiss them.

Your hand extends, fingers reaching out for his. His eyes follow your movements, taking in what you’re offering and he doesn’t hesitate anymore, interlocking them like when he walked you to your front door. You watch the way his shoulders give the moment they touch and his eyes close as he relishes in the feel of it. Of you. 

Your back hits the edge of your kitchen sink when he crowds your space a little more, your fingers playing songs on imaginary strings together. Memorizing he dips between each one. His nose skims across your forehead making your own eyes close. How could you ever stay away from him?

“Never.” 

He hums at your confession, squeezing your hand gently before pulling back. He takes his time admiring your face from this close. He missed you so much, he actually thinks it’s kind of crazy. His other hand reaches up to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing the high bone. He loves the way you lean into it. You missed him too.

“Can we have that conversation now?” 

All you can do is nod, tears still threatening to spill out but now a different kind.

The two of you sit on your couch for hours, worn in cushions pushing you close together. Your head rests on his arm that’s draped along the back of it, your socked feet in his lap. He tells you how he met Emma through his high school sweetheart Nancy. The ex that turned him into a man as he put it, the one that made him really think about the kind of person he wanted to be. Even going as far to say Emma would have never given him the time of day if it wasn’t for her. Nancy was the Managing Editor of The Chicago Tribune and Emma was her Editor in Chief.

After being introduced by Nancy at a sports gala, Steve pursued her hard, especially because she said no the first three times he asked her out. It makes you giggle when he laughs about it. He said he knew he wanted to marry her after the first date and a year later he proposed to her on a group vacation with Eddie, Robin, Nancy and a few other friends in Mexico. The picture you saw was taken right after she said yes.

The wedding was small, just a few of their closest friends at The Chicago Botanical Gardens, and a dinner at Smith & Wollensky next to the river after. He told you how Eddie pretended to be mad the whole night becauseSteve made Robin his best man instead. They both moved into Steve’s apartment near Wrigley Field after a honeymoon in Italy. He said it was some of the best years of his life with her there, young and in love in one of the liveliest neighborhoods in the city. Then a few years passed and both their careers started taking off and they started wanting more as they got older. A family.

That’s when they started to invest in renovating this fixer upper of a house in a less nightlife oriented neighborhood. The house you live next door to. Between busy work schedules and dealing with contractors when the symptoms first started, they didn’t think anything of it. They chalked it up to exhaustion until she fainted in her office a few months later, then they finally saw a doctor. Another month later after multiple tests and hospital visits Emma was diagnosed with ALS.

“I’ve never seen something debilitate someone so fast, and Emma, god Emma was so strong. Seeing her like that at the end, it fucking broke me.” Steve’s voice cracks, a silent stream of tears falling down his cheeks now.

Your heart breaks for them, the tragedy of watching the person you love fall apart with nothing to do to stop it. An entire life you had planned ripped out from under you with zero warning or mercy. A cruel joke.

You reach up, using the back of your knuckles to wipe away his tears.  He leans in your touch, his gaze meeting yours with so many emotions inside of them, you think you might drown.

“We decided to stay in our apartment when she couldn’t walk anymore, with the rate it was moving she didn’t want me to live in this big new house meant for our new beginning and have her…have her die in it,” the last part comes out in just above a whisper, stopping to collect his thoughts. His brows furrow together and his fingers search for yours again. You give them to him without question. 

“We checked her into hospice a month after that, Eddie flew in the day she chose to get off assistance. She was surrounded by the people she loved the most those last days.” He takes another deep breath before he continues, it shakes just like his hands.

“That was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I don’t know how someone is supposed to go through that kind of pain and move on from it. Be a person again after it.” He takes another pause and he pulls you closer. His anchor.

“I don’t know if I’d still be here if it wasn’t for Eddie moving into the house with me those first three months, if I’m being totally honest with you.” He sniffs, his gaze falls to his lap to try and hide the shame at the thought, and you squeeze his hand a little bit harder.

“I’m so sorry Steve.” Your voice cracks at the weight of everything he’s been carrying around. The gravity of the way you left him tightens in your throat.

The tears you’d been holding back break free, making his eyes snap to yours. He lets your hand go to wipe your cheeks with gentle fingers like you did to his just moments before. He knows you're apologizing for more than just his bad luck.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m okay now,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. The tips of your noses touch, tears mixing and dripping down the ends of them. You keep your eyes closed in hopes that if you focus hard enough, maybe you could take away some of his pain. Even if it’s just a little bit. “We’re okay now.”

You don’t know how long the two of you sit like this together, not speaking, letting wandering hands memorize faces and fingertips. Your breathing falls in time while your cheeks start to dry. Puffy red eyes stay closed while your muscles finally relax. His nose rubs small circles against yours that make smiles neither of you can see stretch across tear streaked faces.

When you finally open your eyes, he’s already looking at you, something brighter inside of his now like he just let go of a big secret. He doesn’t have to hide anymore.

It’s you that finally works up the strength to pull away enough to really see his whole face after depriving yourself of it for so long.

“I actually kinda feel like she sent you here, despite me,” he admits, laughing nervously, breaking the silence, “She made me promise her that I’d try and find love again when the time was right, I eventually said yes after she asked me at least a dozen times, but I never actually intended on it.” 

Steve stops for a second to brush some of your mascara that smudged, holding your eyes in the forest of his.

“Then five years later, this tough girl tries moving an entire apartment’s worth of stuff by herself next door. I mean, you practically did.” He smiles at how proud you look of yourself, “I knew I was screwed when Bandit sniffed you out.”

You giggle like you're just as love sick as him and he wishes he could play it on a loop whenever he’s sad. 

“She was probably laughing at how bad I was at trying to flirt with you.” His ears turn cherry red while he tries to hide his very real embarrassment.

“You did run away from me for like a solid week after we met the first time if you remember,” you tease, making his eyebrows raise in challenge. You weren’t supposed to roast him too.

“I guess we’re even then aren’t we?” He counters, smirking when you scoff, wrapping his arm around you so you can’t move away like you try to in fake protest.

Your legs end up draped over the tops of his thighs, fitting snug into his side. The warmth of his body makes your eyelids droopy. The cedar undertones he always carries calms all of your nerves.

“She was beautiful Steve,” you whisper, playing with the chain that dangles off his neck before looking up at him with a smile, “And maybe even a little too cool for you if I dare say.” It’s genuine when it comes out of your mouth, no hidden insecurities, an understanding that he wasn’t settling for you and it makes Steve want to kiss you even more. 

“She would have thought you were way too cool for me too.” He laughs, tracing the side of your face with his fingertips. You want to look away from the intensity of it all but you force yourself to hold his stare, keeping yourself open for him. It’s quiet for a few minutes, letting everything that was shared tonight really sink in. That stray you missed so much makes an appearance and you finally get to be the one that pushes it back, and his hair is just as soft as you imagined.

“What are you doing on the fourth, pretty girl?” The new nickname makes you shift in your seat, the hint of a smug smirk begs to break across his face when he catches it. Maybe he’s still got it.

“Nothing, I got the day off.” You hate that his question is enough to make you shy.

It’s too hard to hold his gaze this time, but he doesn’t let that slide. His fingers hook under your chin to tilt your eyes back up to his. Noses brushing, your lips just inches apart like this.

“Be my date to the block party?” He whispers, whiskey and tobacco still lingering on his breath. 

You smile, nudging your nose against his in a dare.

“I’d love to Steve.” His name comes out around strawberry chapstick lips, they brush with his feeling like velvet and it makes his nostrils flare.

He dips his head with a groan kissing the corner of mouth instead, before placing one on both your cheeks and another, a lingering one, against your forehead. 

“In honor of not doing things backwards, I’m going to wait until I’ve taken you out. The way it should happen. The way someone like you deserves.”

Steve wants to make you feel special too.

It's hard for you to feel rejected with his reasoning and seeing the clock on your stove read in bright red numbers - 2:46am. The fourth was only three days away now.

You play it off with a roll of your eyes and a dramatic “fine” that makes him really laugh for the first time all night, giving you another kiss on the cheek. This one a little wet. He can’t get enough of the way you can’t look at him after.

It’s another thirty minutes before he decides it’s time to go home when your yawn is too loud to hide and your head presses harder into his chest. He wishes he could stay, and one night he knows he will.

You both linger in the doorway with fingers wrapped up tight, neither one of you ready to let go. He just wants to stare at you, but he knows the alarm stuffed in his pocket is going to make his life miserable in three hours.

Instead, he gives you another kiss on the forehead telling you he’ll text in the morning, and he wishes he could have a picture of the smile you give him when you promise to text back.

beta’d by @superblysubpar

dividers by @newlips

older!steve edit by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

🌇 -> chapter eight

[ursuburbanmother]

I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter Five

Pairing: Angus Tully x fem!reader

a/n: Omg… I survived finals and all those unit exams. So here is chapter five after a long wait lol. It’s also a longish chapter because you guys are nice and deserve it.

Word Count: ~6.2k

Find: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Enjoy!

Day Eight - Christmas Day, 1970

Angus had retreated to the auditorium once again. He supposed he did so because it reminded him of simpler times. Like when he was nine and his biggest worry was if he would mess up on the sonata he was playing in front of his piano teacher. All because he could feel you in the other room, waiting for him to be done.

He was playing aimlessly and with no particular tune in mind. He just let his fingers glide wherever he felt like. It felt different to be there during the daylight, almost illegal. When he heard the creak of the auditorium doors, he had thought he had been caught. But it was just you, carrying that lavender plant you seemed to be so fond of. You held your potted plant close to your chest and walked up to the stage. He stopped playing to watch you and smiled a little at the sight.

“I kept my promise,” you show off the plant you had improvised decorations with. Little ribbons used for your hair are used as tinsel. There are small pieces of balled up color paper with a paperclip through them that work as ornaments. He could tell you tried not to be overzealous, trying to keep the plant from collapsing from the weight. You place the lavender on the piano and take a seat next to him.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he says back.

You sigh, “Weird party.”

“Yeah. Very weird.”

“I hope Marys alright.”

“Me too,” he sniffs.

He sees you pause to fix your hair. It sits unruly on you, and he can tell you just rolled out of bed. You still look beautiful.

“Um. You never answered my question. Last night…”

He stiffens, “Oh well. You didn’t either.”

You pressed your lips together, “So did you?”

“Did I what?”

You roll your eyes, “Did you feel, I don't know… Did you care? About Joseph?”

Now it's his turn to roll his eyes, “I don’t care about Joseph.”

“Okay. Fine. Then did you care about seeing me with him.”

Angus swallows thickly. He tries to find that sudden rush he felt during the party. The rush that had him so close to just reaching out to hold your cheeks in his hands and collide your lips into his.

He finds the rush in the way you squeeze his hand, encouraging him to continue.

“Yeah, I was jealous,” he prays you won't rip your hand away from his. “Because I care about everything you do.”

You smile and almost look pleased. “I was… a bit too,” you admit, avoiding the word and tugging at the sleeves of your sweater.

Because you think of me that way too, because you think of me that way too, Angus chants in his head like a mantra.

“Because we’re friends?” You cross your arms and hug yourself tightly, gazing up at him through your lashes.

He thinks now that the rush must have been beaten into silence because his mouth stays close, unable to argue back.

“Yeah. ‘Cause we’re friends,” he nods affirmatively, although he has to pinch the side of his thigh to stop himself from crying. He drowns out the ache in his chest and turns into a physical manifestation. There are glass marbles running wild in his head, and they crash against it like a steel floor. They shatter into little bits and prick his mind, berating him for being so stupid, for falling into Elises false optimism, and believing for a second that anything he ever felt would be reciprocated.

A small sigh slips past your lips and Angus suspects it must have been out of relief. He pinches himself harder.

“It all felt like deja vu don’t you think?”

“Hmm?” An odd sound emerges from his throat.

“You and me, begging one another to not be replaced. We’re still the same as when we were fourteen.”

Still the same as we were. The words echoed around, bouncing off the walls of Barton. He can settle with being friends for the rest of his life, as long as it meant he kept having you. If he had to watch you be with someone else, he would suck it up. Like sinking his teeth into a slice of lime without wincing.

He would be fine with you treating him like a wildflower in your garden. He would come around each year, and grow over your tulips, competing for your attention. Practically shouting at you to deal with him. He could wither but come back year-round when you needed him the most. You could harvest him, prune him, press his petals against pages.

The point is you would need him as much as he needs you. …

Paul Huham woke up sick, but not in the way he had expected. He had expected a grinding headache and incredible vertigo. And after five glasses of Jim Beams, he also expected to slip on the ice of the sidewalk as he led Mary to the Nova last night. But he supposed that by now he must have built some sort of tolerance towards it.

Instead, this morning he felt void. He was completely depleted and unable to take his mind off what Miss Crane had said to him at the Christmas party. Mary’s words had definitely brought him back to earth. And although the night had ended… oddly, he still realized that what the two women had said was right.

Angus and Y/n were just kids. Nearly adults in terms of age sure, but still immature and sharing the behavior of one, nonetheless. Miss L/n undoubtedly seemed to deserve a proper celebration. It would be as a thank you of sorts for her ability to rein Mr. Tully in. And Angus Tully needed a moment of distraction from the treacheries of the holiday season. Paul could certainly relate to that.

So, with a groan, he got out of bed. He walked quickly to the bathroom to get his feet off the cold floor and get changed. Afterwards, he went to check in on them in their room.

He saw Y/n buried underneath two blankets. He could barely see her face and it was almost like she was entangled in her own cocoon. Angus however, laid crookedly and clutching a pillow close to his chest, his blanket discarded to the side. There were open drawers, littered pieces of trash on the floor and clothes on the ground. He really ought to remind you both to clean your room.

But confirming you two were asleep, Paul was able to begin the laborious process of getting the ice off his windshield. He then drives into town with the stereo off. He had heard enough Christmas music yesterday and didn’t feel like having jingle-bells grilled into his ear. He slows down as he nears the tree farm. It is empty compared to how it had been mid-November. Vividly he had remembered seeing the town families gathering around and choosing their tree. Kids roamed around as parents debated which trunk smelled the freshest. With the same level of enthusiasm those mothers and fathers had, we trudged up to the nearest worker.

“Merry Christmas,” he smiles awkwardly.

“Merry Christmas. What can I do for you, chief?”

“I’m looking for a tree.”

“Well, you came to the right place. Big fire sale on all remaining inventory.”

Paul hums and tries to find the least scrawny looking pine tree in the lot. He ends up purchasing

one that isn’t nearly as grand as the one Barton had in the dining hall. He then straps it to the top of his car's roof and drives back to the school.

“Mr. Tully, Ms. L/n,” he greets slightly energized by the morning air. He stops abruptly at the sight of the empty beds. There is still a visible dent from where the two had slept. Puzzled, he whirls around the room like they may appear out of thin air. He checks the other vacant rooms shouting out their names.

He stumbles his way into the kitchen where Mary is still in her pajamas, a piece of toast in one hand and a spatula in the other.

“Good morning.”

“Merry Christmas,” she corrects.

“Yeah. Merry Christmas, of course,” he lowers his voice, “How are you?”

“Well, I've got a case of the cocktail flu.”

“Uh, have you seen the kids?” he says with a bit of worry.

“Mm-mm,” she shakes her head and returns her attention to grilling the bacon.

Paul drops his head, “Goddammit, where the hell can they be?”

Hunham takes the search outside, yelling out to the campus quad that has been covered in white. He trudges to the school's theater wing, where he scampers up the stairs.

“Mr. Tully? Ms. L/n?” he pants as he reaches another floor level. He stops momentarily to listen to the music coming from the auditorium and follows the sounds. He had no idea they could do that.

He makes his presence known by slamming the door behind him shut. The piano stops and you both whirl around.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” the two say in unison.

“Where the hell have you two been?”

“I don’t know. Just here,” Angus says.

“Come on. I have something to show you both.” …

You hold Angus' hand as you make your way back to the dining hall. His hands feel clammy. A little shaky too. Although yours weren’t any different. You felt like a ghost floating outside your own body.

When you had asked him the question, you had huddled into yourself. It was the closest thing to holding a shield over your heart. In your head you had thought that if you could just reach out and place your hand against his chest, then you wouldn’t have to ask anything at all. You would just be able to tell by the rhythm of his own thumping heart. You had prayed that he would argue against you. That he would say, ‘No. Not just because we’re friends.” But he hadn’t and now you know never to trust the words of a random man at a party.

But if you were reduced to that status for eternity, you supposed you would be able endure it. Truth was that you felt you felt greedy in ever wishing more from him. He could have brushed you off, labeled you as a snob and never have jumped into the ice-cold pool when you were seven. Yet, he hadn’t and to that you owed him.

Because you think that if he had never spoken to you, you would have spent your entire life watching things from a distance.

When you arrived at the mess hall, Mr. Hunham asked you two to wait before bringing out an irked Mary. She took a seat nearby as Hunham presented you with the bare tree and a few wrapped gifts underneath.

“No ornaments?” Angus frowns, unimpressed.

“Ornaments would diminish the Charlie Brown-esque of it,” you say. “All we really need is one giant red sphere.”

“Oh, I’m sure we can round up some ornaments somewhere,” Mr. Hunham pipes in and picks up one of the gifts, “Uh now… this is for you two.”

He hands you and Angus a rectangular package with a neat bow tied to keep it closed. You’re too surprised to open it but do so after you see Angus shift beside you.

Underneath your fingertips you hold, what you always believed, to be the holy grail of gifts. A book!

“Meditations by Marcus Aurelius. For my money, it’s like the Bible, the Koran and the Bhagavad Gita all rolled up into one. And the best part is not one mention of God!”

“Hmm,” Mary grunts in disapproval.

“Okay. Thanks,” Angus nods.

“Thank you, Mr. Hunham. This is really, really, nice,” you rush to hug him, forgetting you’re supposed to be treating the man like a superior. He doesn’t push you away though, he awkwardly pats your back instead, his other arm hanging out weirdly.

He clears his throat, “Well… I know how much of a voracious reader you are. It’s a rarity that must be preserved.”

“Thank you. I love it,” you hold the book close. You sway a little like you would when you are holding a baby.

“And this is for you,” Hunham returns to passing out the presents.

Mary eyes him suspiciously and unwraps it with ease. It’s another copy of “Meditations.”

“So you just give this to everybody?” She chides.

“And,” Mr. Hunham holds out a bottle of whiskey, smiling.

Mary grins back, “Aw. How did you guess?”

“How indeed,” he laughs. He holds up his finger momentarily, signaling you two to wait. “Also, this came in the mail for you,” Hunham hands Angus an envelope. You watch as he sits down and opens it quickly. The green card is shiny and stuffed with cash. Inside is one of those pre-written messages concocted by marketing companies. The only sign of a personal touch is the scribbled note that reads, ‘Love, Mom and Stanley.’

“Oh, that's nice,” you shrug shyly when Angus turns to gauge your reaction.

“Mary, may I help you with breakfast?” Hunham interrupts the sulking.

She nods, “Yes. Please. Angus, Y/n, clear the table.”

“Okay,” you pick up your abandoned lavender and place it next to the much taller pine. “Look, it's us.”

You snicker quietly, pleased at your own joke. Angus continues to stare down at the table.

You sigh and approach him, “Angus. Are we okay?”

His eyes snap to yours, “Yeah. Of course. It just…”

“It's just what?”

“I-, I didn’t get you anything.”

You exhale shakily. For a second you’d thought you had screwed everything up and he was ready to ignore you and forget of your existence.

You lean over and squeeze his hand, “It's okay. Your presence is worth more than a thousand jewels.”

“Cheesy,” he snorts. The first genuine reaction you'd gotten out of him all day.

“Thank you!” You squeak and tug at a loose piece of his curls. …

It's a group effort to get dinner on the table before midnight. Angus begrudgingly agrees to help you with the vegetables while Hunham and Mary handle the more serious stuff. You are still not to be trusted with anything besides a peeler.

You're scraping the final bits off your plate as Angus wipes his mouth with his napkin.

“Thank you, Mary. That was just lovely,” Hunham gleams.

“Wow, is that an actual compliment?”

“Oh, come on,” Hunham waves off.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had a real family Christmas like this before,” Angus recalls, “Christmas dinner, I mean- family style. Out of the oven, all the trimmings. We always leached off of Y/n’s family.”

“Yeah. From Delmonico’s. Fresh from their stoves to ours,” you scoff at the memories of you tipping the delivery driver through the kitchen window so they could remain unseen by guests.

“Well, she’s got the right idea. Next year I’m ordering in from Delmonico’s,” Mary teases.

“Anyway. Thank you, Mary,” Angus says seriously.

“You’re welcome.” She winks at him and smiles.

Mr. Hunham raises his mug, encouraging you all to follow suit.

“I’d like to propose a toast. To my three unlikely companions on this snowy island. And to our absent friends and family,” the glass wavers in your hand, “And I realize that none of us are here because he wants to be, so if there’s any way that I can make the holidays a little cheerier for any of you, just say the word.”

You perk up immediately, hands slamming down on the table and almost shaking your fork off the table, “We want to go to Boston.”

“Boston. Why?” Hunham stares appalled.

Angus catches on and nods his head enthusiastically, “Why not? We want a real Christmas. We want to go ice skating. And I want to see a real Christmas tree with ornaments, not that stupid thing.”

“You said it was nice,” Mr. Hunham says, offended.

“It is nice,” Mary reassures.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here. We want a real holiday,” Angus slithers his hand into yours.

“Well, we’re not going to Boston. It’s out of the question.”

“There's plenty of intellectual-like things there too! We could go to museums or visit statues. Or even go inside Paul Revere's house! Did you know they had that there?”

“Come on Paul, you just told them ‘anything.’ So, take the kids to Boston,” Mary vouches.

“Mary, we’re not allowed to leave campus or the immediate environs,” he insists.

Angus' arm flops down and the grip he had on your hand is loosened. You’re about ready to beg the history teacher to reconsider, and that you’ll stay behind and keep clean every inch of Barton as long as he agrees to take Angus. He must have noticed the flame he blew out from your metaphorical birthday candles as he drops his shoulders.

“But I suppose we could call it a field trip. A field trip would fall under the ambit of additional academic pursuits. There’s even a fund set aside for additional academic pursuits,” he mutters like it's a secret.

“I’ll go pack,” Angus rises, a grin on his lips as he sprints off to the infirmary.

You get up and move behind Mr. Hunham to hug his shoulders and then run to Mary to give her an equal tight squeeze.

She pats your arms, and says, “Alright now. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is to me! I mean I’ve-, I have always gotten chocolates for Christmas. Pass the age of twelve anyway. But my mom orders them from Stockholm and they’re great, they’re delicious, but even though I ask for a two-dollar book… I always get these ridiculously expensive chocolates. Yet tonight, I didn’t even have to ask-, for the book, umm, I-,” you flail your arms around, stumbling over your words.

“You didn’t have to ask us to not order the overpriced chocolates from Europe?”

“Yeah,” you tug at your earlobe. “So thank you. For not force feeding me copious amounts of sugar and cacao.”

Mr. Hunham smooths out his shirt and swiftly wipes underneath his eyes, “Well… I hear shipping costs are rather high nowadays.”

Day Nine - December 26th, 1970

The entirety of Massachusetts looks as idyllic as a postcard. The colonial houses and snow-covered lawns were so Norman Rockwell that you felt sickly sweet. You had attempted at first, to get the stubborn radio to turn on to no avail. After a while you all managed to chat amongst yourselves about local news. Not that you had any recent access to that information to be able to understand it all. Mr. Hunham had his own fun informing you all about the origins of Christmas traditions. Like how popcorn garlands could be traced down to some colonists in Virginia.

The talking had dwelled down as you reached Roxbury. You had been disappointed that Mary wouldn't be tagging along to Boston, but you knew her going to her sister’s meant more than you could understand.

“Here we are,” Mary sighs as the car stops in front of a large apartment building.

“Boy, that's an awful lot of stairs,” Mr. Hunham comments.

“And probably icey too.”

“Mhm.”

Although you understand the hints, you're not so sure Angus is. You kick his heel to break through whatever trance he is in.

“Mr. Tully?” Hunham calls.

His eyes widened, “Right… Mary, can I help with your bags?”

“Yes please.”

Angus is handed the keys to open the trunk. He gets out and collects a suitcase and a round little box and goes across the street.

“Hey, be careful with the box,” Mary orders from the open car window.

“I’ll help too!” You smile.

“No, that's okay sweetheart. Let him be gentlemanly.”

“I really just want to stretch my legs.”

“You can go,” Hunham says, “don’t wander far.”

“Thank you,” you say.

Mr. Hunham watches you jog across the street and stop at the bottom of the stairs to look up at Angus. He turns towards Mary, “You know you’re more than welcome to a room at the hotel. We’ve got the money.”

“Are you out of your mind? I need a break from you and Angus and all your damn bickering. Besides, I'm looking forward to visiting my little sister. She’s pregnant.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful.” He cheers and takes Mary’s hand and squeezes it. She scrunches her nose.

“Mr. Hunham. Mr. Hunham!” She pulls away and cradles her hand like it's been broken.

“Oh, I’m sorry. My hands sweat. It’s hyperhidrosis. Sorry.”

You bounce back to the car, crouching down slightly to speak to Mary, “Angus is asking how far to go.”

The two adults peer through the car windshield to spot the boy, “One more flight up!” Mary instructs.

You go back to observing him like a guard dog, one hand on your waist and the other over your eyes to block out the sun. You hear Mary get out of the Nova and wave up at her sister and who you presume to be her husband.

“Mary!”

“Hi!” she shouts back.

You pout as she approaches you, “Bye Mary.”

“Aww,” she pinches your cheek briefly. You don’t have enough time to appreciate the touch. “Don’t be so moody. I’ll see you soon. And look at the bright side. You get a hotel room all to yourself.”

“I’m going to feel all vacant in there.”

“Just do me a favor.”

“Yes?”

“Eat all the fancy snacks in the hotel mini fridge for me.”

“I’ll stuff them in my suitcase for you,” you promise.

“Thank you,” she tucks your hair back to protect it from the harsh breeze tangling it out everywhere.

Angus’s footsteps are loud as he practically skips over to you two. He loops his arm around yours and tries to drag you away, “Bye Mary!”

“Uh-uh. Where are you going?”

“I was just-,” Angus babbles.

“You’re not done yet. You have to help me up there.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” he relents, letting go of you and switching over to Mary.

You whirl around and head back to the car. You wish you could continue glancing at him, and the way the sun peeks through his hair and makes it appear browner than usual. But it's only so long until it begins to get creepy. Only so long until it is noticeable that you’re not admiring him as just a friend.

…

You settle in at the Sheraton Commander. It's a nice hotel with chandeliers in the lobby. Everyone around you looks like businessmen in a hurry or professors with a lecture to attend. Your room is right across from Mr. Hunham and Angus, and already you feel lonely at hearing their squabble across the hall.

You had kicked your suitcase underneath your bed and then went to knock at their door.

Mr. Hunham answers, “Ah, Miss L/n. Good. We were just discussing what to do for dinner.”

The door widens to allow you to enter, and you find a seat next to Angus on the end of his bed. “I thought we would go out to eat?”

“That’s exactly what I said but Mr. Hunham insists we stay in,” Angus says annoyed.

“It’s late! If we went out now, we could be met with frostbite and discomfort. We will get a proper night's rest and then enjoy the wonders of Boston.”

Angus groans beside you and you hop off the mattress. You silently ask for the room service menu which Hunham holds.

You scan through the foods, “They have some good options Angus…”

“Ugh,” Angus tugs at his hair. “Fine. What do they have?”

“You like Fettuccine Alfredo, get that.”

“Not if it doesn’t have chicken,” you know that's not true, and he’s just trying to be unnecessarily complicated. Still, you play along.

“Alright. I’ll get the chicken parmesan and give you some of it. Deal?”

“Deal,” he rolls his eyes.

“What are you getting Mr. Hunham?” You address the man.

“I don’t know,” he puts on the glasses that had been resting on his head. “I haven’t had ravioli in a while…”

“Get the ravioli. It’s courtesy of Barton afterall.”

Mr. Hunham hums, “I suppose you're right… Do either of you have an aching for anything particularly sweet after your dinner?”

You and Angus smile at each other, “I wouldn't mind some cake.”

“I wouldn't either.”

Mr. Hunham chuckles and picks up the phone on the night table. He presses some buttons and listens to dial tone before a staff member picks up.

“Hello, yes can I…”

You drown out the order as you draw open the curtains to their window.

“Holy shit. You can see Harvard from here.”

“Oh yeah. The receptionist mentioned that while you were busy admiring the Greek pillars. I think she thinks we’re on a campus trip.”

“I can only see layered brick from my window.”

“Well, that's Cambridge for you.”

You squint your eyes, “Are you really that bothered about not going out. Everything closed anyway.”

“That's what your brainwashed, rural, New England mind wants you to think. This is Boston. A city. Things here probably don’t close until three a.m”

“I doubt that.”

“Want to bet?” He whispers, smirking.

“What?”

“Let’s go out tonight. After Hunham declares it lights out.”

You shake your head, “We can’t, he's been so nice to us. I mean, c’mon, he drove us here.”

“This isn’t me trying to, like, undermine or disrespect him or anything. I just want to hang out with you.”

You fold under his gaze, and look back at Mr. Hunham who is still on the phone. “I don’t know Angus…”

“We’ll sneak out for an hour tops. He’s a heavy sleeper.”

Nervously you nod like he might overhear you even though he’s pretty preoccupied on getting a glass of Jim Beam brought up with the rest of your dinner.

“I guess. But you have to use your Christmas money to buy him a book on ancient Rome or something. As a present.”

“I’ll start marking the map,” Angus picks up a discarded pamphlet provided by the hotel. You smile at his eagerness as he tries to slyly look for places to visit. Mr. Hunham hangs up the phone and sighs contently.

“Food in thirty minutes. Wash up!” …

Mr. Hunham was chewing his last ravioli, and holding onto his half-finished bottle of Jim Beam like it was precious cargo. A Farewell to Arms, had come on TV, leading his current tangent. Even though you were anxious to get your plans on track, you couldn't help the way your mouth widened in awe as you listened to his words. You had no idea why Angus claimed to be so bored in his class. Hunham was better than any history teacher you had ever had.

“Although there is no credible proof, of course, that Hemingway described his hometown as one of ‘wide lawns and narrow minds,’ it would track considering his works. Actually, were you aware that his town was once a single entity? It's called Cicero and as you know, Mr. Tully, he was a very big politician in Ancient Rome. He-,” Mr. Hunham reads the clock on the wall. It's eleven thirty-two.

“Is it that late already?”

“Yes sir,” Angus responds, slightly exhausted.

“I do apologize. Most people tend to stop me once I hit the forty second mark.”

“It was really quite interesting,” you voice, “they don’t go too in depth about the author's life in the inside sleeve of books.”

“Well, uh, I thank you. For listening.”

“No. Thank you. You saved me from buying a biography,” you quip, and he smiles at you. A warm smile.

“Y’know you two are a lot like Hemingway. Maybe you both just happen to be two very large fishes with great minds, born into an incredibly narrow, small pond.”

…

You were kicked out after assisting in the clean-up. You then went to your room and put on your pajamas, along with your shoes. Instead of opting to use your usual sneakers, you put on the black Mary Jane’s your school mandates.

You didn’t know why until you looked Angus eye to eye and said, “I think it balances the rule-breaking out. I sneak out, simultaneously obeying my school's dress code.”

Angus had snorted, before revealing his own tie under his coat, hanging loosely and undone over his neck. You laughed, closed the door behind you and fled down the hotel stairs. It was clear almost immediately your coat, scarf and hat weren’t enough to keep you warm.

“We should turn back,” you suggested desperately.

“We’ve made it down one street.”

“Yes, and I’ve seen three ‘open’ signs. You were right, the world goes on after midnight. Let's go home,” you plead.

“No,” Angus drapes his arm over your shoulder, “we have to do at least one thing. So, think, what do you want to do?”

You mull it over for a second. There was nothing you were desperately wanting to see. The places you did were locked securely by key until tomorrow morning. Boston held no particular memories for you like it did for Angus. However, your parents owned a house downtown that you had been in exactly five times, and you always did like even numbers much better.

“You remember that brownstone on Beacon Hill?”

Angus smirks and nudges you to follow him. The walk to the train is painful with the way snowflakes seem to fall and nip at your skin. The only other commuter in their train car is a lady in scrubs and a defeated salesman. There are plenty of empty seats for you and Angus to hog. Nevertheless, you stand, holding onto the pole, your hands on top of each other. You lift your pinky a couple stops later, having forgotten what limb belongs to you and which was his.

You vaguely recall the address. Really you are navigated towards it through pure instinct. Something deep in your gut telling you ‘Here is the place your father will crash to if he doesn’t want to drive home after work.’

Your quiet walk is interrupted by the whooping of who you assume to be college kids extending their Christmas festivities. They leave, stumbling out of bars and into their cars. You don’t feel inclined to question it until you see them driving towards the brownstone. Your brownstone.

You pick up your pace. You follow the loose strands of streamers and glitter that litter the street.

You stop dead in your tracks at the sight of the house. With its lights on and the windows curtains drawn wide open, just inviting anyone to look inside and envy them. Dead ivy covers its brick walls, and you think back on the gorgeous wisteria that you once saw grow one springtime.

People in decadent clothing filter in and out of the house. Some pass you by and stare you down like your presence is a major disturbance that’s worthy of calling the authorities.

You spot the unmistakable pinned up hair belonging to your mother. She is dressed in silk and pearls. She dances with your father with her eyes closed. She looks at peace. She looks happier than you have ever seen her.

“Y/n…” Angus whispers, trying to get your attention.

But something else catches it instead. The mail slot is full of letters and cards. There are some bills too but that never worried them. They waited until they were threatened to have their light shut off for them to actually pay them with a simple flick of their wallet.

You go through them frantically. You go through the November letters, reaching the early weeks of December until you find the last notice. Sent from your school to them. It looks brand new, untouched. The last fingers to hold them before you were the school administrator and a mailman.

You tear the wax seal off and read the letter.

To the family of Y/n L/n,

This is the confirmation notice that your child will be holding over at Janie Patricks School for Girls for the following next two weeks. She will be supervised under the care of our English Department Head, Ms. Patricia Orchard. Any last-minute changes or concerns must be alerted to her now. Contact information below includes…

You halt halfway through a sentence and let the paper fall onto the dirty snow on the pavement. You want to grab a rock off the sidewalk and hit their window. You want to ruin their fun and embarrass them by asking, “Why did you even bother having me?” Even though you know their answer.

“Because we were expected to.”

To them you’re the anchor tying their boat down. They’re two birds and you just happen to be their cage. You don’t pick up that pebble by your shoe, no matter how tempting. You almost trip as your vision become foggy and you march forward and past Angus. You sit at a bus bench and wish you had a big bag of bird seeds to feed pigeons. Grandparents in parks always seem so content doing that. Angus joins you shortly and uses the end of the wool scarf to wipe your unnoticed tears.

You shakily exhale and white fog floats in the air. “I thought they wanted me during the winter.”

“What?” Angus draws his brows together.

“Spring and summer I get. People want to have a good time at the L/n’s. And I’m a pest like the bugs in the grass who brings the mood down at just my buzzing. But when it’s cold out, I’m more tolerable. I don’t complain as much about the weather so I’m quieter. My lack of attendance can be brushed off easier because they can just say I’m sick.”

“No Y/n-,”

“Secretly, I hoped they just hated me enough to want me to spend holiday break at school. I didn’t actually think they forgot me. I’m their baby. People don’t forget their babies.”

“Hey,” Angus snaps, holding your face between his hands. “They’re assholes and later, when the tears have dried, I know you’ll try to fight me on it. You’ll come up with all these excuses for them, but you have to remember that not once have they ever tried justifying themselves. You can love them. They’re your parents. But likability is different. And I’m sorry because I have never liked your parents.”

“I’m such a bother Angus,” you weep, “all calendar year long.”

“No, you’re not. I want you if no one else. I love you.”

You trace the outline of his face under the street lamppost like a tourist observes a painting in a museum. You find him doing the same. Although not much has changed. You have him ingrained in your mind. You could forget about him, not think of him for fifty years but still be able to scout him out in a crowded street.

You inch closer to him, filled by the sudden urge to be as close as humanly possible to him. It’s an urge that resurfaces every once in a while. Usually you brush it off, blaming the cold or an uncomfortable situation you want to hide from. But tonight all you feel is the warmth only he can radiate and the inimitable way he makes your heart race. You remove the hand cupping your face and kiss his knuckles.

“How is it that you want me?” You shakily breath.

“I want you in the spring, summer, autumn, winter,” he leans in closer, bumping noses with you.

“Really?” you murmur, using both hands to comb through the curls.

“I want you, all the time,” He spoke into the short amount of space between you. You were practically breathing into each others' mouths, your lips on the verge of touching.

“Angus, I don't think we should do anything. It’s late and we’re tired. We need to sleep.”

“Trust me, I’m wide awake,” he chuckles.

“You’re my only friend,’’ the rational side shines through. Briefly.

“I want you more than a friend.”

“We should go slow,’’ you bargain.

“Okay,” he presses his lips quickly against you. Eagerly you accept and pull him by his hair. You try to cram in all the lost opportunities with him in seconds. You savor the way his lips feel chapped from the bitter weather against yours. He encapsulates your body, practically pressing you down on the bus bench.

“You’re gonna get us arrested,” you murmur through brief pauses when you go to gasp for air.

His mouth parts, his lips red and puffy, “Yeah. I’m sorry, I shouldn't have done that. Are you-,”

You lunge at his lips, and smile into the kiss. You think this is how the rest of your life is supposed to go. Wherever happens with college and adult life, he has to be there. Because otherwise you don’t know how you will manage to breathe properly.

Then as the party rages on behind you. It floods you. The thing you had been waiting for. The reassurance, the sign you were doing the right thing.

Woosh.

[kkami-writes]

waiting for us — chapter nineteen. the gig cw. some slight anxiety + alcohol mentions ↝ wc. 1.5k + 2 SS

It was about thirty minutes before 3RACHA were scheduled to perform when you arrived at the bar. Thankfully it wasn’t too crowded but there was still a decent amount of people around, the place was nice and spacious so you were still very impressed. You were sitting directly at the bar, some fruity cocktail in front of you as you chatted with Ryujin and Yeji though the two girls were a little busy with each other. You didn’t mind at all, you found the two absolutely adorable. Besides you were a little distracted yourself, eyes fluttering across the growing crowd. 

On the left you could see the boy you had met just yesterday who was with Hyunjin and the pretty fairy boy. Ryujin had told you his name was Felix and he was famous on campus for his brownies. You had to admit, it was probably the best thing you’ve ever put in your mouth. The cat-like boy then looks over at you, your cheeks flushing as you quickly turn away, downing your whole drink in pure embarrassment. The alcohol burns down your throat but you could care less - you might need to be a little intoxicated if you were getting out of this evening alive. Soon enough the lights are dimming and three boys are walking onto the stage. You turn around in your seat, content staying all the way in the back to watch the performance. 

They each take a moment to introduce themselves, the one on the right was Bangchan and you noticed he had his own set of devastated dimples. The one on the left was Changbin, who was wearing a sleeveless shirt, showing off his muscled arms. Of course they were both perfect, all eight of your soulmates seemed to be almost inhumanly gorgeous. It didn’t make sense to you. How did you of all people end up with these men? Fate was either fucking with you or trying to make up for the fact that she had given you the worlds shittiest parents and brother. 

Either way you don’t have much time to contemplate what Fate had in store for you as they began their performance. You had heard most of these songs already, what with you having been playing their songs on repeat for a few days. You couldn’t be blamed, they made such good music. You bobbed your head to the beat, a smile on your face as you watched them on stage. It looked like they belonged there, moving and interacting with the crowd that screamed for them. Unknownst to you, seven eyes were watching you carefully as you enjoyed the songs.

They had even played their solo songs, your body sitting up as soon as you hear the familiar tune of Alien playing. Your eyes practically sparkle as Jisung sings your favorite song and it doesn’t help that he looks so good, a few strands of hair in his eyes and black nail polish. You were convinced that he was trying to kill you. Little did you know that Jisung had begged his other bandmates to put Alien on the setlist, he desperately wanted to perform your favorite song for you. 

The others that couldn’t take their eyes off on you found it extremely endearing as you lip synced with Jisung. The fact that you had memorized the lyrics had definitely pulled at their heartstrings. Especially with a song that meant a lot to Jisung. 

They play for about an hour before their time is up, thanking the crowd for coming and to look out for some more solo songs being released in the next coming weeks. Soon after there’s another group coming up but you’re not paying much attention anymore. You order another cocktail, bracing yourself for what was going to happen next. “They’re good huh?” Ryujin asks as she leans into you, a smile on her face. You nod your head, happily accepting the drink before downing it. “Woah- you good?” She questions with furrowed eyebrows, slightly concerned but slightly impressed on how fast you swallowed the liquid. 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” You mumble, letting the alcohol infect your veins. 

Ryujin gives you another glance at you but doesn’t question it anymore. She had always been fairly good at reading you, knowing when not to push you. “If you say so. Me and Yeji are gonna dance for a bit ok? Come find us when you wanna go home,” She gives you another smile before she’s pulling Yeji by the arm, the latter giggling as she follows her soulmate into the crowd. 

You’re thankful to get the moment alone to try to ground yourself. Your heart is already pounding in your ribcage at the prospect of meeting your last soulmates. How much worse is the ache in your chest gonna be after finding all your soulmates? The unbearable pull you felt towards them, your heart angry at the weak strings that threatened to snap at any moment. All of this happening because you had yet to solidify the bond, something you weren’t sure you were ever gonna do. 

“Mio!!!” A voice cuts through your thoughts and you turn around to see Jisung, that adorable gummy smile as he walks over to you, his two other soulmates behind him. 

“Hi Sung” You reply back, trying to will yourself to calm down. He falters for just a second at the nickname before shaking out of it, pulling you into a hug. You’re terrified he can feel your heart pounding against his chest but you still reciprocate the brief embrace, thankful they probably can’t see your flustered cheeks in the dim bar. 

“Mio! This is Chan hyung and Changbin hyung. Hyungs, this is Mio!” 

“Hi, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Chan greets you first, holding out his hand. Once again you’re pretending you don’t feel that zap of electricity when you slide your palm into his. 

“Likewise,” 

“Nice to finally put a face to your name,” Changbin also holds out his hand and you repeat the process. You force a smile on your face as they make small talk, awkwardness seeping into your bones. Oh how badly you want to run away. 

“Hey! There you are!” You look over at the voice and you find Hyunjin who is throwing himself into Jisung’s embrace, giving him a quick kiss. “You did so good Hannie,” The latter is blushing. It’s rather interesting to watch the two interact - you hadn’t had the opportunity to really see how the other soulmates were with each other. It both makes you wanna coo at how cute they were and maybe slightly jealous. But you push it down, trying to convince yourself that you don’t care.

Soon enough the other soulmates are coming over, greeting their lovers and commenting on how they enjoyed the show. While it’s endearing to see all of them together, the sudden realization that all your soulmates were in front of you sends pure panic into your stomach. Some of them greet you and you do your best to wave back, hoping your smile doesn’t look as strained as it feels. 

It’s like they know though, reading your thoughts as they keep the convo light, not forcing you to talk if you don’t want to. But it’s all too much. It feels so overwhelming, the feeling that’s pulling in your chest and you don’t know if you want to scream or cry. Nor do you know if it’s in a good or a bad way. Suddenly you really regret the two cocktails you had downed, your head starting to pound and you thought that you might be sick. 

“Mio? Are you okay?” It’s Jeongin who asks, noticing your face getting pale even in dim lights. 

“I’m. I’m fine,” You manage to mutter out, pulling out your phone to pretend to look at the time. “Oh man, I need to get home,” 

“Oh! Do you have a ride? We could-” You cut Jisung off quickly. 

“I came with Ryujin and Yeji, it’s ok. Bye! It was nice to meet you again!” The words spill from your lips as fast as you possibly can and you all but jump out of your seat, running into the crowd. Desperately you look for Ryujin or Yeji, eyes already burning with tears and your chest aching with a need you’re not sure you could ever give it. 

When you find the girls you’re a little out of breath purely from the fact that you’re trying to not have a panic attack right now. Ryujin looks over at you with concern, lips pulled into a frown at how distressed you look. 

“Are you-” “I’m fine. I’m fine,” It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself even though you didn’t believe it. “Can we go? Please,” You strain the last word in desperation and all Ryujin does is nod.

“Of course. Come on, let’s go,” She puts a reassuring hand on your lower back, helping you through the sea of people, exchanging a small look with Yeji.

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[braisedhoney]

PART ONE (you are here!) - [PART TWO]

an eight page comic from Our Pupils Grope for the Shape of What We Know on ao3, by @ectopal

part two coming shortly (as in, minutes, so stay tuned!) rambles under the cut.

guys, this fic is so good. like so, so good. everything ectopal writes has been incredible so far, actually, and i had the hardest goddamn time figuring out which fic i wanted to draw for—in the end i’m really glad we chose this one, and i thank them for their input >:0

just… god. the brainrot is so strong. and if you can believe it, this whole comic barely even takes up a small portion of the last chapter—so if you like danny phantom, you’re looking for some epic gen fics, AND you’ve got some time, i say give their works a look. i promise that it’s worth it.

in the next part i’m gonna ramble more about how the process of making this comic went, but for now i’ll let you go. onward, enjoy! o7

[nectardaddy]

'88 Ford | Kita Shinsuke

chapter eight | it didn't

masterlist

ignore timestamps

track eight . . . finally stop dreaming

cw/notes: allusion of the death of a family member, that moment when the feelings hit you like a train, breakdown, lots and lots of heavy emotions, kita's pov, ily dylan gossett, I stg this is the last angst chapter but it needed to happen, I put smau at the end for comedic relief

"Everything about you is important to me." "Everything about you is important to me too, Shin."

Kita Shinsuke was a man to hold strong to his schedule; never late, always early. He was a man to stay steadfast in his beliefs. Take care of yourself, cherish the small things in life, and hard work will always pay off. His grandmother hammering the beliefs in his head; never realizing how true they rang until he was a bit older, a bit wiser. He was also the man to be in tune with his emotions, keeping a level head amidst a sinking ship. So when he found himself amiss once he got home from work he panicked.

Nothing short of out of breath when he closed the door, not even bothering to engage the lock, and pressed his back against it. Screwing his eyes shut tightly, trying to feel the cool wood of the door on his arms rather than the heat of his desires. A coil in his stomach that felt like fire, a yearning that ate him alive - ripped him apart piece by piece. The longer the craving stayed, the larger it grew, soon he would be drawn limb from limb and pulled right by the seams.

Three days ago - without a word since.

He never imagined such a small amount of time would feel like an eternity, or have his heart thrown completely in the wringer. Nor did he believe the simple act of avoidance would leave him with an utter lack of control. Overworking himself to the point of exhaustion, spilling his guts in the middle of a field because, heaven forbid, he took a break. Taking a break meant thinking, and thinking meant losing himself. If he lost himself, he surely was a dead man walking.

Three days spent in blistering heat, dripping in sweat by the end of the day and woozy from exhaustion. Coming home every night only to crash immediately, dropping to his knees because it was all too much to even make dinner. Just keep busy. But busy was a minimization. Just don't look at her. A promise he couldn't keep to himself. Sharing glances made him falter, and faltering made the dreadful cycle continue.

His grandmother would scold him if she was still here. Give him a stern look and yank at his ear, no matter how old he was. Take care of yourself, take a break, and you'll get goodness in return.

The only goodness he found was in the eyes of a woman he couldn't bear to even look at. And where had that gotten him?

"Please forgive me," whispering to himself before taking a deep breath. "What should I do? I'm beggin', please tell me what to do." Asking the universe, possibly his grandmother, as he spoke to an all too empty house. Getting a silence in response, nothing but crickets from the night air just behind the door, he swallowed hard.

The sinking feeling of regret hitting him hard, and fast, swallowing him whole before taking him by the neck and forcing him down. Knees buckling under him, feeling the rough scrap of the door on his back as he went down, landing on the floor with a small thud. Reopening his eyes, they trained onto the hard wood floor, tracing the worn lines within each plank. He took a heavy breath as his eyes became blurry.

There was a suffocating feeling overtaking him, starting in his chest and coiling up. Reaching his throat as he gasped for air, his hands reaching for his face. Hanging his head and covering his eyes, letting a choked sob leave his lips as the feeling consumed him. Suddenly, his world became a lot smaller. Caving in on itself as he sat on the floor for what felt like ages - tears never stopping for a single second.

"I'm so damn stupid." Hissing a curse at himself through broken cries, all cares of being collected thrown to the wind. House eerily empty, a loneliness creeping in that sunk in his bones. The feeling swirling and mixing within the latter, stomach turning at the thought. Always coming and going like the waves of the ocean; he would usually endure it, allowing himself to be swept out to sea - a current would eventually spit him back out.

He let his hands drop down to his sides, revealing watery eyes as he rested his head against the door. Looking up at the blank ceiling before closing them, hoping that would contain his racing thoughts.

It didn't.

"Please," a plea to whatever, or whoever, beyond as he found himself drawing blanks at every corner. "You would tell me to do what's right and-" he sighed before continuing. "I d'know what's right. What should I do? I can't lose her." He pulled his legs up to his chest with a shaky breath, making himself smaller in hopes maybe the moment would pass.

It didn't.

taglist under cut

@wyrcan @chizunata @seroh @chemiru @froyaoya

@h3xi2g0n3 @localgaytrainwreck @mollyrolls @causenessus @diorzs

@rory-cakes @phoenix-eclipses @pattys-got-cakes @girlkissersco

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[cupidcures]

When Tulips Kiss | Hwang Hyunjin SMAU

CHAPTERS: 𝜗𝜚 TWENTY-SIX | TWENTY-SEVEN | 𝜗𝜚 TWENTY-EIGHT

am i cooked?

a/n: hi guys! chapter twenty-eight will be written again so it’ll take me a few days for the next part to come out😅 a little more drama in the next part so stay tuned :P

𝜗𝜚 WTK series masterlist

TAGLIST (OPEN)! @jeonginplsholdmyhand @jeonginsgirl @mlrroh @mafiulaputaama @seungzsmin @hannie-bees @skz1lov @porang-poranglinos @sillyhal @mitchii @soulphoenix1618 @gnab-nahc @hyunjins-dimples @nappynapnaps @15092000volcano @livixcore @linocvp1d @yaorzu-blog @scallywag1299 @boo-ven9eance @lys4lix @kirbrary @4ln-stay8 @sellomaybe @aznstoner @saintcosette @starseungs @syedazarintasnim @elqivxstxr @ivydoesit23 @weirdowithaphone @hyuneee3 @nhyunn @velvetmoonlght @amarecerasus @skzstan12345 @ravengxbss

[hehetmongi]

🏖️🐚🌊 waves along the shore | series | (ateez ot8 x reader) 🏖️🐚🌊

summary: you just broke things off with your fiancé. out of options, you go to your family’s beach house across the country to clear your mind. but you're not expecting to see familiar faces in the house next door...

pairings: ateez ot8 x reader, multi

tags: alternate universe - modern setting, beaches, beach house, emotional hurt/comfort, healing, polyamory, fluff and smut, unconventional romance, 18+ mdni

chapter links: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten

this series can also be found on ao3! more notes about this series under the read more, please check them out!

content notes: all locations mentioned in this fic are completely made up. reader is a cis woman who uses she/her pronouns.

reader plays the piano and has a backstory that is significant to the plot. she is more of an OC than a self-insert, but i tried to write her in a way that readers might relate to. some relationships might be more favored than others (that's my yeosang/san bias coming out, oops) but everyone will have their moment, i promise!

TRIGGER WARNING for reader's past toxic/controlling relationship. this relationship does not involve any members of ateez.

update notes: this series will update sporadically. i'm aiming for friday updates, but stay tuned!

[notiddygothgf]

12. three months

★ pairings: plug!wakasa imaushi x f!reader

★ synopsis: the one where you have the hots for your dealer, and Wakasa is always eager to please a customer. (don't let your bf stop you from finding ur hubby)

★ content warning: smut, angst, lotta porn w a lotta plot, car sex, dealer wakasa, cheating, oral sex, sneaky link, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, sex while high, consensual drug use, mentions of abuse, unprotected sex, so much more...

★ a/n: so.... I have definitely been on hiatus. So so so sorry about that my little pookie bookies. life has been so cray cray lately. ur fave premed student has been struggling ngl. but I'm back up on my grind and I'm cranking out these chapters again! This one took a while to write because its definitely not a writing style I'm used to, but I needed to get this out to get to the good good. waka girlies, u will enjoy this chapter... I'm not spoiling but, stay tuned!!! love u allllll

★ w.c.; who even knows bru

previous part | next part

BLACK STILETTO HEELS CLICKED AGAINST linoleum, one after the other – the sounds rhythmic and soothing. You could faintly hear the fabric of your pencil skirt rustling as your thighs rubbed together, strutting down the aisle of the office with confident ease. You ran these streets. Least, that’s what it felt like when you came down that aisle every morning after you clocked in.

Right. Let’s run it back.

Three months had passed since your last meeting with Wakasa. You had taken some time to mull the whole thing over, and while a part of you wanted to hate him, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Three months of thinking, eight months of loneliness, three months spent repeating the same day over and over again. Three months at a job you didn’t really like, trying to make ends meet after Takeomi had cut you off.

Three months without him .

The unopened message sat in your phone the way it had been since you’d sent it. It seemed like years, now, that you had been running your tired gaze over the small field of text below the drunken mash of letters you had sent.

Read 12:01 AM

Swishing the burgundy booze around the bottom of your glass, you rested your head against the cold, unforgiving surface of the bar table. 

You swiped your ID through the reader, punching out for the day. Pocketing the little card and lanyard, you continued onward. You came up to an elevator, same one you used every day. You pressed the same buttons to get down to the same door you left through every day.

Every day.

With a quick nod of your head, you greeted your coworker – who was on her way in just as you were making your way out. You weren’t too big of a fan of her, in all honesty. You felt she was too superficial. Then again, who wasn’t in a place like this?

You were making good money, though. That’s all that mattered.

The rush of cool air that greeted you as you pushed past the gold-rimmed office doors provided a brief respite from the stuffy office. The city streets stretched before you, bustling with activity as people hurried by.

You took a deep breath.

Heels clicking against the pavement with every step, you walked with a purpose. The air of confidence you strived to exude seemed to mask your internal turmoil – feelings you felt were much better left unsaid, feelings that had been bottled away in the cellar of your mind for the past three months.

Three months of repetition.

Three months of regret.

Three months spent trying to remember the intricate valleys and curves of his body, the small features you had come to adore.

Three months spent trying to forget him.

Though you had struggled initially with your feelings toward Wakasa, you couldn’t really bring yourself to hate him. You had spent a good quarter of a year mulling it over in your head, breaking your last interaction with him into microscopic bits and pieces.

You had concluded that he had done it to protect you.

You knew he had been right to an extent but, shit… a man of his standing should have been able to find a way to make it happen…

…right?

You hadn’t heard much about Takeomi since the fight with him and Waka. Not even a peep. You didn’t know whether to feel alarmed about that or not.

You felt like you were being watched from a distance. Always. It felt like you were trapped in a never-ending cycle.

With your phone in hand, you dialed the number for a cab. The familiar anticipation began to build again while you waited for the vehicle to arrive. 

On the streets below, the city lights flickered to life, casting an amber glow on the sidewalk. You looked around for a moment, and then something piqued your attention.

Vrrrr.

There was a deep, rumbling sound in the distance, one that seized your heart in its grasp. For a moment, you were right back where you had been eight months ago. Your eyes searched the street until they fell upon a motorcyclist who had slowed to a stop in front of your building. Well, not in front of it, across the street. 

The sight of the rider stirred a pang of nostalgia deep within you.

In that split second, memories flickered through your mind. Memories of stolen laughter, hidden kisses… Memories of hushed promises against soft lips, some broken and some kept. His silhouette triggered an unexpected surge of hope.

You strained to see the rider’s face, heart racing. You yearned for that familiar, lazy gaze – the warmth it once held. 

But as he popped the helmet off of his head, it wasn’t blond hair that fell over his shoulders. No, just regular old brown hair and a stubbly face. 

It’s not him.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut.

Your gaze fell. 

The cab’s arrival disrupted the moment, its tires screeching against the pavement until it came to a stop by the curb. With a weighted sigh, you climbed into the cab.

Your heart throbbed with a bittersweet ache. As the cab pulled away, you couldn’t help but wonder about the chances you wished you had taken with Wakasa, the what-ifs that lingered in the recesses of your mind. 

The cab carried you away from the scene, leaving behind the phantom of a love that had become a haunting memory.

-

The cold, yellow liquid felt refreshing as it burned its way down the back of his throat, that familiar acidic texture eating away at his stress. He sighed, setting the glass down on the counter.

As the bittersweet elixir numbed his senses, the pulsing beats of the club melted away, merging with the cacophony of laughter and chatter all around him.

Lost in a haze of intoxication, Wakasa let out a heavy sigh, setting the glass down on the counter with a thud. His friends eyed him up warily, faces etched with that familiar look of concern. He heard voices, people telling him to slow down, to regain control.

Of course, he paid them no heed. Glazed eyes reflecting a distant detachment, senses dulled from the liquor… worries numbed, just the way he liked it. In that numbing embrace, he found solace. Time and time again.

“I think you need a therapist, man,” Benkei whistled, nursing his own strawberry margarita. “If you’re still hung up over a hook-up this long after the fact, there’s something wrong with you.”

He pushed his friend’s concerns aside with an air of indifference and a quiet hum, too caught up in the muffled chaos of his own mind to truly acknowledge his worries.

“I think you need ‘ta hop off my dick,” He retorted, pursing his lips. “I know what I’m doin’, Kei. ‘M 27 years old.”

Benkei knitted his brows, muttering something into his margarita along the lines of, “Sure don’t act like it.”

“‘M fine, guys. Promise,” He smiled, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He knew he hadn’t been himself in a while, of course, but he would be damned if he admitted that. “What, a man can’t drink in peace?”

“No, Waka, the problem isn’t you drinking in peace,” Shin added matter-of-factly. “‘S the fact that that’syour eighth beer of the night.”

Waka glanced down at the half-empty drink in his hand – or half full, depending on how you looked at it – as if he, too were surprised at the number. “‘S Friday night, anyway. Go hard or go home.”

Waka thought he had put on a good show. He thought that, if Shin squinted hard enough, he could mistake him for a sober man. 

He thought wrong.

Shin shook his head, “It’s fuckin’ Thursday, man.”

Although he refused to acknowledge it verbally, he knew Shinichiro had brought up a good point.

Who was he kidding, anyway? It didn’t help. None of it did. The booze, the clubs every weekend, the faceless hookups and lap dances – none of it distracted him from the mess you had made in his heart.

Three months.

“It’s okay to admit you need help, Waka, y’know we love ‘ya,” Shin tilted his head. “Seriously.”

“Honest to God,” Benkei hummed.

The whole world knew he was a mess. Why couldn’t he just admit that something was wrong?

Waka ran his tongue over his teeth like the sharpened edge of a blade. He almost hoped it would draw blood. Anything to make him feel something.

“I…” He hummed, trailing off for a moment. “I think I need one more shot, then I’ll go home.”

Benkei shook his head.

Shin looked disappointed. Still, Waka couldn’t quite bring himself to care. 

Not even when his two friends had to carry him home.

-

[ 2:00 AM ]

Outgoing Message - 2:00 AM

You get home safe? 

.

Incoming Message - 2:00 AM

Yeah man. Thx 4 askin.

He holdin’ up ok?

.

Outgoing Message - 2:00 AM

He’s alr now, im staying w him tn

Gotta make sure he don’t puke in his sleep

Lol

.

Incoming Message - 2:00 AM

This ain’t healthy for him…

.

Outgoing Message - 2:00 AM

Ik… we gotta do smth man

.

Incoming Message - 2:00 AM

Ik, h8 2 see him like this

.

Outgoing Message - 2:01 AM

Idk i mean my lil sis is friends w her i think?

It may be time for ummm

.

Incoming Message - 2:02 AM

An intervention lol?

You know how Waka feels ab us gettin involved w his antics

.

Outgoing Message - 2:02 AM.

Not us.

I know a way

.

Incoming Message - 2:02 AM

It don’t involve Take’s ex girl, do it?

.

Outgoing Message - 2:03 AM

Jus follow my lead, alr?

.

Incoming Message - 2:03 AM

… I don’t like where this is headin, shin.

But I trust u.

Delivered.

-

[ USER CALL LOG ]

Best Bud (Waka)....... (Incoming) 5:00 PM (30 sec)

Lil sis (Emma) ………. (Outgoing ; declined)  2:10 AM 

Lil sis (Emma) ………. (Outgoing ; received) 2:11 AM (26 mins)

Benkei …………………. (Outgoing ; received) 2:12 AM (1 min)

Shibuya Pizzeria ……. (Outgoing ; received) 2:30 AM (1 min).

[ END OF USER “Papi Sano”S CALL LOG]

.

-

.

[2:05 AM]

[Automated]: you have 3 new messages. Play back?

[USER] Selected:

[NO] …

… [View Inbox]

…

[ Last 3 Months ].

[REPLAY>>] Message from ‘Pretty Thing’.

Transcription:

“ Hi Waka, It’s me… I know ‘s… [hiccup] been a while. I’m- Just. Wanted to let you know that I’m in the area. And, first of all… fuck you, for what you did to, to me, you– ugh. You bastar- [hiccup] -d. I’m calling to let you know that I’m much better off without you. Me and my girls are havin’ a ball… a… a ball here tonight. Without you…….. Ugh, who am I kidding. I don’t even know why I called you. You probably haven’t even thought about me in months. I know I’m g’nna [hiccup] wake up tomorrow and forget I even sent this message so– [hiccup] just do me a favor, okay? You owe me that, after breaking my heart the way you did. Just forget you never saw this message, okay? Delete it. It’ll be better for both ‘f us if we just pretended this never happened. Fuck. How do I delete a voice message? I–

[???]: Girl, who are you talking to?

I gotta go, Waka, but… [sigh] I miss you. Okay? Fuck, I really miss you. I would never admit that sober. Thankfully I’m gonna delete this message before you ever see it, so it’ll be like it never happened. Not like I would have remembered anyway. Okay. Which button is it again? Ah, wait, shi –”

[ End of Message. ]

[Automated]: Would you like to play the next message?

[ No. ]

[ Play ]

[Automated]: Replaying message from ‘Pretty thing’.

-

The harsh neon lights buzzed against the night sky tonight at the Eclipse. Even from where you were standing on the curb, you could hear the bass throbbing through the pavement, the vibrations in the air, the smell of sweaty bodies grinding a few yards away. 

YOU  |  I’m here babe wya

Hitting send, you pocketed your phone. You took a deep breath, tightened your grip around the strap of your purse, and then stepped forward. The moment you entered the club, a wave of sound and sensation enveloped you. The air was thick with perfumes and colognes, the faint aroma of liquor lingering somewhere – probably the ground. 

Disco lights painted the crowd in fleeting bursts of colors, highlighting dancing bodies, dazzling outfits, and sin. 

In all honesty, you had no idea why Emma had even thought to invite you out here tonight. It had been eons since your last trip to the club. But, still, she said some event was happening and she didn’t want to go alone, and who were you if not the world’s best friend?

You searched the crowd for her familiar face and, sure enough, there she was, standing by the bar on the far end of the room. Blonde hair down to her back and a sweetheart dress that revealed just enough cleavage for you to know she was scouting out free drinks tonight, she was hard to miss.

You couldn’t help but smile as she waved you down wildly, gold bangles glinting beneath the club’s kaleidoscopic lights. There was an old song playing, one you couldn’t quite remember.

Emma’s grin only widened after you approached the bar and took a seat next to her. You scooted a little closer, cupping your hands over your mouth and shouting, “You weren’t kidding about this place!”

She laughed, a sound that you could almost hear in your head despite not being able to catch it over the music. “It’ll be fun! You brought ‘ya dancin’ shoes, right?”

Your eyes darted over to the dancefloor, where bodies writhed beneath the bass of the music. The sensation you felt was somewhere between excitement and hesitation. “I ‘dunno if I’m there yet, Emma– It’s been a while!”

“What?” Emma shouted. She rolled her eyes, glancing down at the other end of the bar. “I didn’t bring you here to mope, babe, we’re getting plastered!”

On cue, the bartender returned with two green drinks in hand, furnished with tiny little umbrellas. He set them down in front of the two of you, reached behind the bar, and then set two more red cocktails down before you.

“Let’s get this party started!” Emma squealed, sliding one of the green drinks your way. She held her drink in your direction, “To girls’ night!”

You clinked your glasses together in a toast.

Taking a cautious sip, you allowed the sweet concoction to flood your parched mouth. It was coconutty, with a hint of lime and –

The liquor hit you like a punch to the face. You scrunched your nose up, coughing a bit. 

“Shit, that’s strong,” You remarked.

“It’s a Coco Loco!” She answered the question you had yet to ask. “With two extra shots of rum! I knew you’d like it!”

You weren’t really a fan honestly, but you didn’t want to tell her that. Not after she had just spent money on drinks for the both of you.

“It’s good,” You said anyway. 

Emma clapped a hand on your shoulder, “That’s the spirit!” She exclaimed happily. Her makeup was creased a bit around the corners of her lips, where you knew she had been smiling all night. “Melt the pain away, girl.”

-

Wakasa stumbled out of the car, pulling his arm out of Shinichiro’s tight grasp. His annoyance was palpable in the way he kicked the car door shut behind him, paying no mind to the driver as he pulled away. He stood now on the edge of a bustling sidewalk in the middle of what might have been the shadiest-looking corner in Shibuya. He took a long drag from his cigarette, tendrils of smoke melting into the midnight blue around them.

“The hell are we doing at a seedy joint like this?” Waka grumbled, voice a low growl of discontent. With a scowl, he readjusted the collar of his deep purple dress shirt. 

Shinichiro bounced on the balls of his feet, stuffing his hands into his pockets with a sigh. His breath materialized into the air in front of him, a cloud of white amidst the darkness. 

“Figured we’d let loose a ‘lil tonight,” He spoke with such casualty that it almost came off as a little dismissive. He nudged Wakasa playfully, a humorous glint playing in his dark eyes. “Find some loose local girls for a quickie, yeah?”

Under any other circumstances, he would have been jumping at the opportunity. Seeing as he had spent the last few months attempting to drink his regrets away, however, he was anything but chipper at the prospect.

Waka’s annoyance only deepened, brows furrowing. He took another puff of his cig, blowing out the smoke with a quiet scoff. “I’m over fuckin’, man,” he groaned. “I’m goin’ celibate… startin’ today, no more bitches f’me.” 

“Like I’d ever believe that from you,” Shinichiro snorted, a subtle grin playing at the corner of his thin lips. He slung an arm over Wakasa’s shoulders. The height difference between the two of them was emphasized as they walked side by side. “Jus’ give it an hour, Waka,” he urged, tone oddly persuasive. “If you hate it, we can leave. If you don’t have a chick’s legs wrapped around your neck by the end of the night, I owe you fifty.”

Waka sucked his teeth, irritation melting away with newfound curiosity. “Might do it ‘jus to spite ‘ya,” He retorted.

“Right. Wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Shinichiro replied, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. There was something in his tone that raised Wakasa’s suspicion, the slightest feeling that Shinichiro might be up to something. “And don’t be bitchy with me ‘jus because I won’t let you pregame a fuckin’ liquor bar.”

Waka shot Shinichiro a fiery glare, cigarette ember glowing bright, before flicking the thing onto the ground in one deliberate motion. “Blow me,” he muttered beneath his breath. 

The two men stood in front of the club’s entrance. Wakasa slowed, locking his gaze onto the club’s exterior. Then, with a reluctant sigh, Waka entered the building.

-

As the night wore on, you found yourself lost in the spell of the music, lost in the endless sea of dancing, grinding bodies. The colored lights were hot against your sweaty skin. You knew the makeup would be melting off of your face by the end of the night if you kept going on at this rate. Hell, your mascara had started migrating already.

Emma’s Just-dance-inspired moves were contagious. The two of you were dancing on one another, performing a routine you seemed to remember all too well for someone who hated playing Just Dance so much.

The club seemed to ebb and flow like a living organism tonight.

You had lost track of time a long time ago. The songs had begun to bleed together seamlessly. Somewhere along the way, you lost your sweater. The dress you had decided to wear was stuck to your waist, plastered down with sweat. 

Yet, in spite of this, you were having more fun than you had anticipated.

Your flow was broken only when Emma grabbed you by the arm and led you to an empty corner. The both of you caught your breath.

Cheeks hot and flushed, you sighed contentedly, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, Emma, but you were right.”

“You havin’ fun, girly?” She giggled, giving you a playful sock in the arm. “Told you you’d feel better if you got out of the house.”

You nodded, feeling slightly liberated. She was right. You were actually kind of glad that you came out of your shell for tonight. 

Emma raised a playful brow. “You want to get a refresher?”

With a nod and a thin-lipped smile, you let Emma lead you over to the bar.

The two of you took a seat for the second time that evening, taking a moment to cool down and catch your breath. 

Emma turned her attention to the bartender – the same one she had just tried to hit on 30 minutes ago, “Two waters, please,” She ordered.

You tuned the bar out after that. Feeling a little melancholic, your eyes scanned the scene. The lights, the bodies, the music, the drinks. It was all so… messy. Yet, still, there was that unmistakable electricity in the air tonight.

Just as you were about to turn back to Emma, your gaze locked onto a figure against the wall. Immediately the recognition set in, and your heart skipped more than a few beats. It seemed to stop altogether.

There, standing in the dim corner, the lights danced over his familiar features – pretty button nose, downturned eyes, arched brows. His hair was back in a messy bun tonight. Even now, he had that passive, unamused look on his face.

He looked exactly the same as he had the day he closed the door on you.

Well, if you want to be technical, you closed the door on him, but you meant that in the metaphorical sense.

His piercing eyes scanned the crowd with a touch of his signature indifference. He exuded an air of mystique, momentarily entrancing you all over again.

And even now, three months later, his effect on you had not wavered.

Emma’s touch on your arm brought you back to the present, breaking the spell he had cast. “Hey,” She asked, concern evident in her voice. “You good?”

Your eyes were drawn back to the entrance, and your heart sank when you spotted your blond, ex-situationship once again. Panic surged through your veins immediately, seizing your lungs. It felt as if the walls of the club had gotten much smaller, all of a sudden.

Waka was standing there by the entrance, only a few yards away, with Shinichiro by his side. He looked every bit as breathtaking as you remembered him to be.

And he was looking right at you.

He can’t see me.

I need to hide.

He can’t see me.

You whipped your head back around towards your friend, flashing her a faux smile. “I’m gonna,” You swallowed, voice unsteady. “I’m gonna go back to the floor.”

Without even waiting for a response, you turned abruptly and slid off of the barstool. Your pulse was racing as you pushed through the wall of bodies behind the bar and made a beeline for the dance floor.

Emma was calling after you. You didn’t care.

The urgency to put distance between you and your past had consumed you whole. The bass pounded in your ears, matching the rapid thrum of your heartbeat. The music drowned out her voice as you merged with the sea of people once again.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried your best to lose yourself in the rhythm. Your movements were a frenzied, frantic mess of anxious movements. This time, when the lights flickered over you, the shadows they cast brought back memories of your history, your mistakes. 

I will not let him ruin my night, you told yourself.

Yet, still, you dared one last glance around. 

It was to scout the area for a suitor. That’s what you told yourself. 

Subconsciously, however, you searched for Waka amidst the colorful, blurred throng. Your heart began to race again when you spotted him by the bar, head turning slowly, eyes flitting over the club scene. It looked like he was searching for something.

The realization hit you like a train.

He’s looking for me.  

a/n: aaaand we are back with another cliffhanger! I'm so sorry. i have been, so bad to u all lately. life has been crazy! I think I may be shadowbanned, idk, I still dk how tumbly works. anyway! I did not like writing this chapter but it was a totally necessary segway into the next one, which will be very very very very very... jus trust me yall will love it. you know the drill, leave comments, suggestions, anything in down below and I will like, cry reading ur messages as always. Next chap is gonna be my fave like everrrr omg...

I obviously do not own tokyo revengers or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @tokyorevengersslut69, @mikeys-bike-slut, @midtwenties-angst, @sleepysnk, @enneadec, @noaabean, @galactict3a, @em1e, @drakensdarling, @wakashawty, @satanlovesusall666, @sin-and-punishment, @mztoman, @sanzuicide, @bontensbabygirl, @strawberrychrome, @scaraphobia, @bertholdts--butt, @xiedoll, @missgab, @keiskyutie

wanna join the taglist for wakasa imaushi? | or click here to read more

[strangeshoepatrolbandit]

Brotherly Love

Short story

Prompt: 8 "Sleep at my place tonight."

Warnings: Crowded room.

@mxtokko requested: "It could be a cute sibling moment between jason and y/n or with jon cuz i just think their interractions are cute ! Doesnt really matter to me wich one it is :D"

Series Masterlist

~☆~

*following the events of chapter eight.*

Damian.

Damian and you were on better terms. He had apologized. He was going to your brother again.

But, he would have to work his way back up to be where you and Jason were. Attached at the hip. Almost knowing exactly what the other is thinking. In tune with each other. Trusting of each other.

Damian and Jon were currently having an intense debate over the Star Wars movies. What specifically? You don't know.

However, you and Jason were just watching people waltz around the crowded room. You were tucked under his arm, hugging his waist. One of his hands was holding onto your shoulder, and the other was holding his drink.

"Boring, huh?" He spoke.

"Yes." You sighed, causing Jason to chuckle.

His teal eyes looked down at you. He sees so much of himself in you that it almost hurts.

He watched as you tried to cover up a large yawn. "Sleep at my place tonight." He told you. "It's closer."

"Are you sure?" You questioned, looking back up at him.

"I wouldn't have said anything if I didn't want you to." He smiled down at you, and you quickly mimicked the action. Jason silently looked back up in front of himself, continuing to gaze at the people around the room. You did the same.

"Do you wanna sleep over?" Jon's voice came from nowhere. You quickly looked at him then around the room, wondering where your Damian had gone.

"I'm staying with Jason...how did you not just hear that." You said, referring to his super-hearing.

"There's a lot of people in here." He whined.

"Don't you live a state over?" You asked.

"So?"

~☆~

I really hope you like this, babe.♡

Taglist: @sanjanapm

@unofficial-jaytodd-wife

@texaschainslvt

@godknows-shetried

@wendds

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[smileysuh]

Private Room : Nct 127

🌙 staring. nct 127 x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “A lot has changed,” you admit. “Honestly- I never thought I’d take a break from cam shows once I started- never thought I’d be doing a solo show with a nct 127 private room- but here we are.”

cw/ tw. cam sex, solo cam room, masturbation, use of toys, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praise, vibrator, dildo, overstim, etc...

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.6k

🍭 aus. cam girl reader, poly idols, idols sharing a fuck buddy, dirty boy idols, etc...

☀️ mlist + an. cam room directory here - after a long haitus, cam baby is back :) this is the first of 5 new chapters that will be coming out in the next few weeks :) stay tuned for all the angsty forbidden love that cambaby is low key known for - this series is covered in audio by the Kpop Pillow Talk podcast, listen here

It’s been so long since you last did a cam show that you’re not sure who will even join, and the thought of an unsuccessful evening is what prompts you to message some of your most devoted fans.

Despite being on tour, you’re still in frequent contact with Johnny, Jaehyun and Haechan, so when you suggest a NCT 127 only camroom to the eldest of the three, it takes no time at all for him to run it by all his members and come back to you with a confirmation that eight of nine will tune in for your show.

“Everyone’s excited for another episode of our little cam baby,” Johnny tells you when he calls you before your start time. “The guys are getting a little agitated from our tour lasting so long- and I know Jae and Hyuck miss you-”

“What about you, John?” you toy, enjoying the taste of his legal name on your tongue. “Are you missing me yet?”

“I always miss you, baby.” 

You can hear the grin in his voice, and your heart does summersaults in your chest, the way it always does when you talk to your most longstanding, loyal, and kind dominant. 

“Miss you too,” you admit. “For more than just cam shows- although… well, you know I also miss being on camera with you.”

The last time you’d enjoyed Johnny infront of a live audience, it had been under the watchful eye of got7’s Jinyoung. 

So much has happened since then-

“The guys are eager to hear what you’ve been up to,” Johnny tells you, pulling you from your thoughts. “I think they’ll like it that it’s just all of us- they can ask more personal questions.”

“Personal questions-” you echo, letting out an anxious laugh, “uh oh.”

“You don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to,” Johnny assures you. “Remember, you’re running the show, princess.”

“I’m running the show,” you repeat, allowing the words to calm you while you get set up with a tripod and your box of toys.

“That’s my girl,” Johnny’s praise is the cherry on top, and you realize that - while it has been a while since you did a show - you’re still going to do just fine. 

All you have to do is be yourself- that’s always worked in the past. 

In fact, a solo cam session with your closest supporters is the perfect avenue to practice radical self love… in all forms. 

“Ok, Johnny I gotta hang up so I can start my show on time-”

“Yeah, no problem-”

“But uh…” you swallow thickly, pausing as you stare at your phone. There’s something itching on the back of your tongue- something you dare not say, so instead, you hit him with; “You’re all in separate hotel rooms during this, or…?”

“Uh huh,” Johnny laughs- “as much as we’re all close as members, I don’t think any of us actually want to watch you while we’re in the same room, Yuta joked about it once, but- we’re not Wayv.”

The mention of their brother group makes you giggle- there’d been a time when a few of the members had been big into your cam show, and they’d ditch practice to huddle in the bathroom and watch you- but 127 is not Wayv. 

“Get on with your show, baby,” Johnny’s smooth voice is always so calming, “I’ll see ya in there.”

“Bye, John.”

“Bye, baby.” 

The line goes dead, and you finish the rest of your set up in record time. Soon, you’re placing your phone in the tripod, sending a private room link off to your 127 group chat, and turning the camera on.

By the time you’ve gone to sit on your bed, adjusting your laptop so you can see the comment section, a handful of idols have already joined.

“Hey guys-” you breathe, eyes skimming through the usernames you know: NiceGuyJohnny, KittyTae, yutAH, Doie, ValentineJae97, HeyChannie-

And then two new users pop into the chat, with names that couldn’t be more diametrically opposed: PuppyBoyWoo and MarcusLee.

“Marcus Lee?” you read out loud, laughing as you lift your eyes to the camera. “I’d thought yutAH was bold but okay Mark, I see you-”

HeyChannie: fucking mark

NiceGuyJohnny: have you never made a fake user profile before markie?

yutAH: this kid

PuppyBoyWoo: what about me? What do you think of my user name?

“Hi Jungwoo, I love your user name- it’s good to see you here,” you smile. “Are you my little puppy boy, Woo?”

PuppyBoyWoo: bark bark bark

HeyChannie: woof woof

HeyChannie has donated $69

yutAH: grrrrrrr

yutAH has donated $69

NiceGuyJohnny has donated $69

PuppyBoyWoo has donated $100

MarcusLee has donated $100

ValentineJae97 has donated $420

God, you’ve missed this, missed how easy it is- 

“How about our resident kitty? You still here, Tae?” you ask, wanting to involve all eight members if possible- 

KittyTae: meow

KittyTae has donated $69

“Now we’re just waiting on you Doyoung-”

Doie has donated $200

“And that makes eight,” you grin. “Too bad Taeil couldn’t join.”

HeyChannie: couldnt? More like WOULDNT

NiceGuyJohnny: we all know Taeil is married to his beauty sleep

Doie: we should probably ALL be asleep right now. We have a flight tomorrow morning

HeyChannie: then LEAVE

HeyChannie: bitch

“Hyuck-” you groan, “I’m never going to take any of my clothes off if you force me to be a moderator- can’t you behave yourself for the next little while? For me?”

HeyChannie has donated $69

HeyChannie: fine. But I won’t be HAPPY about it

“Never needed you to be happy, just needed you to listen and be a good boy for me tonight-” you grin, enjoying the way you can toy with Hyuck with the safe distance between you. 

ValentineJae97: are you into good boys now baby?

ValentineJae97: what else has changed since your last show

“A lot has changed,” you admit. “Honestly- I never thought I’d take a break from cam shows once I started- never thought I’d be doing a solo show with a nct 127 private room- but here we are.” 

PuppyBoyWoo: what’s changed? This is my first show

“Well, for starters-” you lean back against your bed, toying with the fabric of your hoodie, “Got7 left their company- I think Mark would still join a cam room, but his time change is a lot- then, BTS is touring and busy too-”

NiceGuyJohnny: tell them about the job you got baby

“Right, I got a job… briefly.” You laugh at the memory. “I was doing behind the scenes with the Legendary Kingdom stuff- couldn’t really be doing a cam show during all of that. Just… a lot has been going on… I think I’m going to start doing more of these again… but uh…. While you guys are all on tour, I can’t just keep doing nct 127 solo rooms, so there might be some new faces and users popping up too.”

ValentineJae97: like who

yutAH: spill the deets baby

“Are we really here to talk my personal life?” you avoid the question. “I thought you guys wanted a show-”

PuppyBoyWoo: yes

PuppyBoyWoo: please take your shirt off : )

HeyChannie: what he said

HeyChannie: I don’t need to be made jealous while on the last leg of our tour

HeyChannie: I’m going to pretend it’s just us 

Doie: delusional 

“Anyways!” you lift your toy box, showing it to the camera. “Here’s my collection-”

NiceGuyJohnny: *side eye*

“Screw you John-” you groan, hating that he knows you so well, “fine it’s not my whole collection, it’s just what I like best for tonight.” 

HeyChannie: that’s a lot of vibrators baby

“And what about it?” you taunt, picking up one of the black, chordless wands. “Honestly, this is one of my favourites-” while looking down at your toybox, you consider your options. “Part of me had thought I’d let you guys choose what I should use tonight- but after reading the chaos of your chat, I think maybe I should just do my own thing and you guys should be thankful I put up with all your bickering and low donations.”

Doie: low donations-

Doie has donated $200

HeyChannie has donated $69

ValentineJae97 has donated $500

MarcusLee has donated $100

PuppyBoyWoo has donated $100

NiceGuyJohnny has donated $1000

yutAH: you know what? I was going to donate something fun, but after Johnny just slamming money down- I’m not so sure

NiceGuyJohnny: pay the nice cam baby you menace

yutAH has donated $666

KittyTae has donated $100

“I like the sound of donations,” you grin, “think it’s about time I started taking my clothes off, huh?”

You avoid your computer while undressing, although you see the chat blowing up in your periphery. 

After going so long without a show, a slow strip tease is just what you need to feel sexy on camera again. 

Your hoodie is removed first, and then you slowly slide out of your sleeping shorts. The large tshirt covering your form is next, and it leaves you in your bra and panties.

“Should I keep going?” you ask. “I think I wanna hear some coins if I’m going to take any more off.”

Your computer dings a few times, the sound of money making you grin. Ever the tease, you turn your back to the camera, reaching behind yourself to unclasp your bra.

You collect your breasts with a hand braced across your front, turning to face the camera at the foot of the bed. “Should I go slow tonight? I know you guys are used to me getting my clothes torn off really quick, but… now that it’s just me, I can tease, right?”

You shift your attention to the computer at your side, skimming the comments there. You’ve got a pretty divided cam room- with Johnny, Jungwoo and Mark being reassuring while Haechan, Yuta and Doyoung are more to the point-

“Are you really that concerned about your bed time, Doie?” you laugh, having not expected this kind of reaction from the stoic man you’re often shocked to see in your cam room at all. With a sigh, you give in, removing your hand from your chest and allowing your breasts to be exposed, nipples hardening with the temperature of your room. “I guess I do need to be mindful of your schedule- gotta catch that flight tomorrow…”

Doie has donated $200

“If you guys are in that much of a rush to see me cum- I guess I might as well start, hmm?” You reach for your favourite vibrator and the sound of coins confirms you’re making the right choice. “But because I’m being rushed- maybe I shouldn’t even take off my panties until I’ve cum at least once.”

You’re enjoying having power- enjoying the ability to tease your cam room and go at your own pace- although you make them think they’re dictating at least some of it.

The vibrator buzzes to life and you bring it down to your panty covered core, groaning at the way the machine feels even through a piece of fabric. “So good…” you say, loud enough for your idols to hear. “Think I’m just going to relax back against my pillow and enjoy this.”

You’ve cum solo enough times to know how to use your toys with an expert hand, and it’s easy enough to get lost in the feeling of your vibrator in the exact spot you like. 

You know how much of a tease this is- you laying flat, breasts exposed, pretty pussy still hidden while you begin to grind down on your toy- moving your hips fluidly-

Sounds begin to slip out of you, moans and whines that are as akin to music as the noise of coins and donations flooding in.

“Fuck, guys-” you groan when you apply more pressure to your clit- “my panties are sticking to me- I’m so wet already-”

You turn your head to the side, eager to read a few of the comments that are coming in on the computer next to you. 

NiceGuyJohnny: take them off

HeyChannie: yeah take them off

PuppyBoyWoo: please take them off

ValentineJae97: you look so pretty baby

ValentineJae97 has donated $100

NiceGuyJohnny: are you close baby? 

ValentineJae97: you can’t cum with your panties on like that

NiceGuyJohnny: yeah- move them to the side for us princess

HeyChannie: miss the look of that pretty fucking pussy

PuppyBoyWoo: bet you’re so pretty

PuppyBoyWoo: just for us

“Should I really take them off?” you ask, already feeling breathless- from the attention, or the vibrations on your clit- you’re not sure. “You guys wanna see my pretty little pussy- all wet and needy-”

The jingling of coins prompts you to reach down and toy with the waistband of your underwear. Jaehyun’s right about the annoyance you feel with panties in the way when you want to cum- and you know that if you get fully naked, you’ll reach your high in no time.

You suppose nct deserves it- suppose that after such a long time without a show, they should get to see you cum, fully, without your panties in the way. 

With a groan, you move your vibrator away, pulling your underwear down before throwing them across the room. 

“There we go-” you sigh, shifting your body closer to the camera at the foot of your bed, “someone better tell me I’m pretty or so help me god-”

ValentineJae97: so pretty

HeyChannie: the prettiest cam baby in the world

MarcusLee: you’re literally perfect

NiceGuyJohnny: gorgeous as always, princess

yutAH: fine as fuck

More moans leave your lips as the vibrator gets direct contact with your clit. Your wet makes it easy for the silicoln head to glide through your pussy lips, and you find yourself getting closer and closer-

“Shit- guys, I’m gonna cum-” you announce for the camera, earning coins a moment later. “Yeah- I’m gonna cum-” you can’t find it in yourself to look at the comment section, too focused on chasing your release as you grind your core harder against the vibrator. “Shit-” 

The tension in your lower abdomen snaps, your orgasm slamming into you and making your toes curl. Gasps and whimpers escape you as you work your way through it- toy never leaving your pussy until you’re a shivering mess, legs closing around your hand-

You groan loudly, reaching your breaking point and turning your vibrator off before tossing it to the side. “That felt so good, fuck, I need a sec-”

You need to take a moment to recuperate, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths while the aftershocks of your orgasm roll through you. 

When you’re able, you turn your head to look at the comment section, skimming through the words of praise and the donations. 

ValentineJae97: you still sound so good when you cum baby

HeyChannie: fuck I miss your pretty pussy like you wouldn’t believe

NiceGuyJohnny: need this tour to be over princess

yutAH: you’re gonna have us all simping by the time this solo room is over

“You guys like the solo?” you ask, eager to hear their opinions on it.

HeyChannie: love the solo

PuppyBoyWoo: so good to be here : )

Doie: solos over watching you get fucked

HeyChannie: solos AND watching you get fucked… by me

yutAH: can’t wait to watch you fuck yourself though

“Yeah? With what though?” You reach for your boy of toys. “How many inches? Six… seven… eight?” 

HeyChannie: eight

yutAH: 8

KittyTae: anything

NiceGuyJohnny: do you have a nine kicking around somewhere?

“A nine?!” you laugh. “Daddy- if I had a nine, would I still need you?”

NiceGuyJohnny: no one fucks like I do princess

NiceGuyJohnny: especially not some stupid toy

“You’re right about that-” you sigh, reaching for a dildo. “Even so, I think I’ll go with a seven incher today- it will give me something to miss about you guys. Plus…” you tease your tongue across the toy, “not everything is about big being better.”

HeyChannie: since when

Doie: oh my god shut up hyuck

HeyChannie: I think we’ve all learned something about the size of doyoungs dick today

“You two better stop fighting,” you groan, bringing the toy to your entrance and teasing it past your clit, “watching you bicker is not a turn on for anyone.”

The chat erupts in laughter and donations, and you draw your attention away from your computer, closing your eyes to focus on the feeling of the cock that you press into your tight hole, testing yourself.

“Fuck- that feels good,” you breathe. “Not the real thing, but… good.” You push the toy further into your pussy, delighted by the way your body reacts and squeezes around it. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but uh… it’s been a little while since I was properly fucked and… I might cum embarrassingly fast on this-”

PuppyBoyWoo: really????

HeyChannie: wanna watch you cum again

“You guys wanna watch me cum? Then I think… maybe the sound of donations might help…”

You love the way your computer dings immediately, and you begin to thrust the toy in and out of your pussy, marveling at how great it feels to be back on cam and chasing an orgasm with your own hands doing the work. 

Gasps and moans begin to escape you, and you lean into them, knowing that a few of the nct members have a thing for audio and the sounds a girl makes when she cums hard.

“Fuck, guys- it’s so deep-” the base of the toy makes contact with your skin each time you thrust it, and it does a perfect job imitating the pretty noise you listen to when you’re getting fucked- you only wish you had a sexy man groaning in your ear. “Shit- I need you guys to come back from tour- I need someone whispering dirty nothings in my ear-”

You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed dirty talk, and doing a solo has made you more aware of the noise in your mind- noise that’s always quieted and drowned out by the men you fuck. 

“Fuck-” you shift against your duvet, feeling the tension rising in the pit of your stomach- your free hand reaches for your vibrator and you announce “need to cum” loud enough for everyone to know what you’re about to do.

A shiver runs through your body when the second toy makes contact with your clit, and the hand thrusting your dildo into you stops momentarily while you let out a loud whine-

“Oh my god-” you begin to fuck yourself even harder, keeping the vibrator directly on your clit. Your legs begin to shake with effort and stimulation, and the dildo slides into you even smoother as you get wetter and wetter-

“Im gonna-” you whimper, biting your lip as the sound of donations floods through your room, “I’m gonna cum- fuck-” as your high hits you, you find the name “daddy-” slipping out of you, and you try to embody your favourite dominant as you overstim yourself, keeping the vibrator on your clit and the toy gliding in and out of your pussy until you’re a shaking, moaning mess.

The vibrator is the first toy you pull away from your core, flipping it off before tossing it to the side. The seven incher stays inside of you, and you wriggle your hips, gasping as the final shocks of your orgasm pass you by.

“Fuck-” you groan, turning your head to the side to read some comments while you slowly come down from your high.

PuppyBoyWoo: who’s daddy? 

HeyChannie: obviously me

ValentineJae97: you wish

Doie: I think you both wish

yutAH: we all know IM oppa

HeyChannie: lol says who

yutAH: Markus

MarcusLee: it’s marcus with a C tho

NiceGuyJohnny: sounded so pretty when you came baby

PuppyBoyWoo: I think I can see who daddy is now

Doie: not haechan 

HeyChannie: im going to put hair removal cream in ur shampoo 

“I thought I said no more fighting-” you laugh, shaking your head at the way nct uses your chat feature. “Also… I think we all know Taeil is daddy.”

It feels safe to smooth over the issue at hand, to divert attention with a bit of comedic relief-

You can’t have it being a known thing that you pick favourites- that when you cum alone, in the safety of your own home, there’s only one man in your thoughts-

“I really liked doing this show for you guys,” you say, swallowing thickly and avoiding the thoughts bubbling inside of you. “Hope the rest of your tour goes well.”

NiceGuyJohnny: are we gonna get to see you on a show again before we get back?

Your heart squeezes in your chest. “Uh… yeah? I mean… maybe?”

NiceGuyJohnny: weren’t you just teasing us about new faces sweetheart?

NiceGuyJohnny: where did this ‘maybe’ come from 

HeyChannie: she’s cute when she gets shy after cumming on cam

HeyChannie has donated $200 

Doie has donated $200

KittyTae: thanks for the show angel

KittyTae has donated $200

PuppyBoyWoo: excited for your next show ;)

MarcusLee has donated $200

PuppyBoyWoo has donated $200

yutAH has donated $200

ValentineJae97: it’s been good seeing you again baby

ValentineJae97 has donated $400

NiceGuyJohnny: get some rest after this princess ;) see you around

NiceGuyJohnny has donated $1000

“Goodnight guys, have a good flight tomorrow morning,” you smile softly, finally pulling your toy from between your legs so you can sit up and grab your phone to turn off the camera.

When the show is off, phone discarded, you take a deep breath.

It’s funny how you can make nearly a years rent in one show- 

Funny how the money still doesn’t do anything for the deep hole in your heart, a hole that can only be truly filled by one thing, the one thing you're afraid you'll never be able to find.

Interact with those who've cum before

› [nct] NiceGuyJohnny - online

› [got7] PubGMarkT - online

› [got7] beommie - online

› [wayv]  Lucas99 & Hendery99 - online

› [got7] TheJinyoung - online

› [bts] TaeTae - online

› [nct] ValentineJae97 - online

› [nct] HeyChannie - online

› [multi] TheJinyoung & NiceGuyJohnny - online

› [nct] Private Room - now in server

› [svt] GyuGyu97 & Hannie - online

› [atz] Yunhoe - online

› [svt] CherryCheolie - online

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[mint-yooxgi]

{14} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on San & Mingi)

Words: 9,450

Warnings: Subtle manipulative tendencies, dream/mental voyerism, threats with a bat. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Mingi Stans, come get y’all juice (can I say that even though it’s not smut yet? Oh well, I just did lmaoo). Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this next part, I know I did!! I’ve got a few things planned for the upcoming chapters, so stay tuned! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Mini Masterlist

The first few days after your confession with Yeosang were interesting to say the least. Needless to say, you were mortified at the idea that the other seven overheard you having sex, and despite Yeosang reassuring you that he made sure to kick his brothers out of the house well before anything transpired between the both of you, you weren’t all that convinced.

Though, the more you thought about it, the more you realized that it was going to have to be something you all would have to get used to. You’ve just never been in a relationship like this before, so the thought of having someone overhear you having sex has always been a cause for embarrassment. Now though, you’re easing into the idea.

It’s going to happen again sooner or later, and you aren’t about to make it awkward. Besides, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.

That still didn’t prevent Yeosang from practically living at your side for the first three days after your confession. Oh, so badly did his brothers want to toss him out of the house like he did to them, but they couldn’t. At least, not yet. They did all agree to give each other privacy during each other’s first times with you, out of respect for both you and each other. The fact that he was so smug about it, though, is what really got on their nerves.

Yeosang was subtle. No, he would never boast, but the fact that he could now practically cling onto you whenever he wanted drove the others up the wall. The two of you were practically drenched in each other’s scents, and the fact that Yeosang wouldn’t let you go only made it last that much longer. A fact of which all of them wanted to share in with you for themselves, but Yeosang beat them to it.

At least some were better at hiding and maintaining their jealousy than the others. Mingi, Yunho, and Jongho all know it’s only a matter of time before you allow themselves the honour of having you in the same ways. The fact that you’ve already confessed to one of them so soon after everything means that you’ve only fallen for them much quicker than any of them could have hoped. Needless to say it delights all of them.

The fourth day after the events had transpired, both Seonghwa and Wooyoung had cornered Yeosang in the kitchen on their end of the house, San not so sneakily appearing a moment later.

“Yeosang,” the eldest’s voice was stern, shooting the younger male a pointed look.

“No.” Yeosang’s reply is immediate, quirking an eyebrow knowingly at the three males across from him.

“We haven’t even said anything, yet.” San pouts, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I’m not telling you anything,” Yeosang shakes his head. “If you want to know, find out yourself. Better yet, ask her.”

“Come on, Sangie,” Wooyoung whines. “Won’t you at least tell us something? Just one tiny, little thing?”

Slowly, Yeosang tilts his head at his three brothers, blinking at them a few times as a soft smile tugs at his features. They just know he’s reminiscing about whatever transpired between you and him that one morning those few days ago. Though, at the way he gets lost in his own head, they know he’s not cracking.

A frustrated huff escapes the eldest’s lips as both San and Wooyoung pout, but they leave him be. For now.

At least by the fifth day, you no longer smell like him, his scent finally dissipating from your skin, much to their content. Though, Yeosang would beg to differ. He believes you should always be covered in each other, especially now.

What really drives them up the walls, though, is when you seemingly start to get lost in your thoughts around them more often than not. They just know you’re thinking back on the events that had transpired between you and Yeosang mere days ago, especially when that loving smile of yours stretches across your features.

Unluckily for them, you seem to always zone out like this while in the kitchen as you sit at the counter. A fact which has a pout usually tugging at any one of their lips, chests swirling with that all too familiar jealous beast that they’ve all become so used to. Why can’t you be thinking about them like that? Why can’t they be the one on your mind so much so that you cannot help but get bashful when you so much as hear their name?

They just want your everything, and each male is going crazy knowing that he could be so close to having you, yet you still feel so far away.

Perhaps you just don’t know what you’re missing, yet. Which is exactly why on that fifth evening, just as you settle down for bed, one of them makes a plan. One way or another, he’ll make you crave him. So much so, that you’ll come running to him as soon as you wake up, begging for him to touch you.

One thing you still haven’t quite managed to figure out is how to keep your void up when you sleep. Occasionally, if any one of the guys can sense you’re having a bit of an unpleasant dream, they will alter it, implementing the sweetest visions into your mind which immediately has you relaxing, and your mind calming. 

There have even been a few times where they have planted small seeds of desire in you, filling your dreams with sultry dialogue, and the occasional touch here and there. Usually when this happens, you manage to kick them out, which is why this plan of his is so risky.

You have always been able to lucid dream, being aware of what is real and what is fake. Lately, though, you seem to be allowing them free reign in your mindscape during these more recent nights instead of kicking them out right away. A fact which could not make them happier, or work in his favour tonight.

Which is why when he feels that familiar loosening of your void, sinking into the water until he’s fully submerged himself in that inky blackness, he smirks. Time for him to finally consume your every thought, just as you always consume his.

Tumbling into unconsciousness, you feel yourself sitting on top of an antique wooden desk, the polished lacquer shining beneath the light of the full moon. Turning your head to the side reveals a beautiful paned window, a row of bookcases lining either side of the entrance to the balcony that sits just to the right. 

You seem to be in a bedroom, waiting for someone to return. Though, why you seem to be eating from a bag of marshmallows is beyond you. Weird, but you’ll roll with it for now. It’s not the first time you’ve popped up in a gorgeous setting only to be either wearing, eating, or doing something completely out of the ordinary.

The sound of the door opening and closing draws your attention, and you turn your head to the left to see a figure enter the room. He’s dressed in all black, a wide rimmed hat resting on his head and blocking most of his features from your sight. Again, you cannot help but think of Wangyeo, your lovable (and favourite) fictional reaper, even if this man’s outfit is slightly different. Though, he doesn’t remove his hat right away like he usually does when you envision this scenario in your mind.

That should have been your first clue.

The man smirks. A notion of which you take notice of as his lips seem to be the only feature visible to you as he begins making his way over to the desk you’re sitting on top of.

“I’ve missed you, Baby,” his voice rumbles out, and you swear it sounds so familiar to you, but you just cannot place it for the moment.

A longing begins to ache in the centre of your chest for this man, of whom you believe to be Wangyeo for the moment. Not that you’re complaining. You’d gladly have any and all dreams you can about your favourite reaper any day of the week.

You place your bag of marshmallows on the desk beside you, extending your free hand out for him to take. He does, almost immediately, his fingers wrapping delicately around your own as his heart thunders in his chest. 

In the next moment, he steps in front of you, the rim of his hat still angled downwards as it covers most of his face. “Did you miss me, too?”

“More than anything, Baby,” you hear yourself reply, reaching out for him in the next second and pulling him flush into you. 

Naturally, he comes to stand between your parted legs as your hands run over his shoulders, then down his chest, until you wrap them around his back, leaning into him so that your head is resting right over his heart. The intensity you can hear pounding against his chest makes you smile.

You notice you’re clinging onto him for dear life, as if you’re afraid he might leave you again or disappear if you let him go. Though, the same desperation felt in your grip you can feel mirrored in his own as his hands find purchase on your back, holding you to his chest lovingly.

“Don’t ever leave me again,” you hear yourself whisper, a mere plea on your lips.

You feel his chest rumble with a chuckle, “I wouldn’t dream of it, My Queen,”

That should have been your second clue, but your mind is far too consumed by this vision in front of you right now. It’s almost exactly like the little fantasy you had the other week, so you’re not complaining. You’re just mildly surprised you’re dreaming of it now.

Guess you’re more horny than you thought.

Slowly, his hands begin to slide down your body until they find purchase on your thighs. An appreciative squeeze is all you receive as you pull the slightest bit away from him before his lips are on yours, successfully managing to steal your breath away.

The kiss is desperate, and so unbelievably needy, like you are the very air he needs to breathe. Exactly like how you pictured him being in your little fantasy the other week. Your hands splay themselves over his back, pulling him in closer as you deepen the kiss, a whine building in your throat as you feel his tongue brushing against yours in the most sinful of ways.

You start to unbutton his coat. 

Funny, you don’t remember it being this short as you go to push it off of his shoulders. The material feels different, too.

That should have been your third clue. Only, you don’t get to think about it for too long as the male pulls you in closer, a low groan escaping his throat as he feels your legs wrap themselves around his waist. He grinds into you then, and the gasp that he hears escaping your lips as you break from his heated kiss has a shiver of pleasure running up his spine, even if it’s a sound he’s hearing for him only in your dreams.

Immediately, his lips are back on yours and your hands move to tangle in his hair, causing his hat to tumble off of his head and fall to the floor in the next second. You think nothing of letting your own head tilt back as he begins to place open mouthed kisses along the side of your neck soon after, teeth nipping at the delicate skin. Your eyes remain closed for the moment, revelling in the feeling of his tongue laving over your pulse until you spare a glance at the male suckling at your neck.

A flash of pink catches your eyes.

In the next moment, you’ve shoved him off of you, mouth parted in disbelief as you see an all too familiar face staring back at you with a slight pout on his lips, chest heaving as he attempts to catch his breath.

“San?” You grip the edge of the desk for support. “What the fuck? Why the fuck are you in my dream?”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it a moment ago,” he mumbles, that all too familiar pout of his still tugging at his features.

“To be fucking fair, I thought this was something else entirely,” you say, motioning vaguely around the room.

Something in his eyes flash, recognition settling over his features until he’s letting out a huff. “I bet you wouldn’t have any problem with Yeosang being here right now.”

Your eyebrows raise considerably in disbelief. “You invaded my dream because you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” his reply is instantaneous, a frown pulling at his brow.

“Mmhmm,” you purse your lips. “Sure you aren’t. Which is exactly why you pretended to be Wangyeo and-“ your voice catches in your throat as if you’ve just realized something. A tight smile begins to pull at your features as you blink at him multiple times. “San,” the way you say his name has him swallowing quite nervously all of a sudden, “why did you decide to invade my dream and make me think you were Wangyeo?”

He quiet for a moment, tense as he stands before you.

“You wouldn’t have wanted me, otherwise. If I didn’t recreate that damn fantasy of yours-“ he catches himself, immediately cutting his words short as he sees your eyes flash.

“My what?” You smile tersely, eyes shining with hidden malice as you tilt your head slightly, hopping off of the desk you’ve been sitting on top of in the next moment.

He shakes his head, eyes wide as if he just admitted to something he shouldn’t have. Of which he knows will get him in trouble.

“Okay, first of all, shame on you for assuming what, or whom I would want. You can, and will never make that decision for me,” your words are pointed as you cross your arms in front of your chest, “but we can talk about that later. I want to know exactly what you mean by that ‘damn fantasy’ of mine.”

He remains quiet, a tight pull of his lips as a grimace rests on his features. However, you don’t even need to hear anything from him to be able to put two and two together. This scenario, his outfit, the way he was touching you and subsequently letting you touch him, letting you believe you were dreaming about your fantasy all add up.

You inhale sharply, a chill running down your spine as your eyes flash once more.

“Run.” Your voice is ominous, probably the darkest tone he’s ever heard from you directed towards him.

“Baby, please, I can explain-“ he attempts to reason with you, extending his hands out in a nonthreatening motion, but a baseball bat appearing in your hand has him blinking in shock at you in the next second. 

He’s in your domain now.

“You really want to attempt to explain your way out of this one?” You take a slow step towards him, grip tightening on the handle of the bat in your hand. “Let me do it for you, yeah?” You tilt your head slightly, that crazed look shining in your eyes that he hasn’t seen since you threw that mug at Wooyoung’s head. “You invaded my dream here because you’re jealous that I fell in love with and subsequently had sex with your brother before you. Then, deciding that I haven’t been giving you enough attention in the real world, you created my dream here using a fantasy I had made for myself after you overheard me getting off because you thought I wouldn’t want you any other way. Does that sound about right?”

Not to mention the fact that if he overheard you, then they all did.

“Uh,” San blinks, his whole body frozen to the spot for the moment as his gaze remains transfixed on the bat in your hand which you have moved to rest over your one shoulder. “Baby, why do you have a bat?”

“If you want to gain my affections, this is not the way to do it.” You seethe, completely ignoring his question. “I don’t need you and your voyeristic tendencies invading my mind, especially when I’m sleeping.”

Something within his eyes flash, and his entire demeanour is shifting. You can just tell from the way his hands lower, a sneer painting his features as he rolls his eyes that that all too familiar jealous beast is making a reappearance.

“But you’ll fall in love with the biggest voyer of us all, and sleep with him first,” he huffs, moving to cross his arms over his chest.

The silence that settles around the both of you is deadly, and the longer it lingers, the more San becomes uncomfortable by how still you’ve gone.

The tip of the bat touching the ground echoes through the room as you drop you hand back to your side, eyes flashing once more. “Run.”

Immediately, San is thrown from your dream, meaning you’ve returned to consciousness. He lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair before slumping back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. Now, he’s stuck staring at the counter, a frown on his face as he glares at the bag of marshmallows in front of him. Not even his favourite treat can pull him out of his frustrations right now.

Well, that didn’t go as planned.

Meanwhile, as soon as you feel consciousness returning to you, you’re sitting up in bed and flinging the covers off of your body. Angrily, you shove your feet into your slippers, standing in the next moment. Your eyes blaze with an irritated fury unlike ever before as you stomp your way over to your door, flinging the piece of wood open in the next moment.

Jongho, who had been casually walking down the hallway and towards the cinema room, stops in his tracks as soon as he sees you. He blinks a few times, noting how you meet his gaze with bloodshot eyes, a fire burning behind your orbs from what he may or may not have just observed happen in your dream.

“Darling, are you-“

“Where is he?” Your voice is low, threatening as your words rumble out of you.

“Who?” He’ll play along for now. Besides, if he gets to watch you kick his brother’s ass, he will. Jongho will absolutely revel in it.

“Jongho, sweetie,” for a brief moment, a sickly sweet smile takes over your features as you relax your tense shoulders. “Could I please have a baseball bat?”

In the blink of an eye, said male makes the object appear in his hand, the wooden bat being handed seamlessly to you in an instant. You grin maniacally.

“Thank you, love,” you move to walk passed him, patting his arm affectionately as you do so.

“Don’t smash any of the vases, Hongjoong will be upset.” He informs you, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Oh, believe me, this isn’t for any vases.” You turn to spare a glance at him from over your shoulder, that same unnerving smile pulling at your features. “Now, where is San?”

“He’s in our kitchen.” Jongho chuckles knowingly as he senses Wooyoung pop his head out from the dance studio down the hallway. “Why, Darling?”

“Because,” you shoot him a final tense smile from over your shoulder before turning around, dragging the tip of the bat along the floor behind you as you once more begin to walk down the hallway and towards their side of the house. “I’m going to break him.”

A pleasant shiver runs up both Wooyoung’s and Jongho’s spine as you say this, muttering something about smashing San’s kneecaps in as your figure retreats down the hallway. Of course, they know you won’t actually do anything to their brother. Sure, you may be mad, but this is a different kind of anger than they’ve felt from you before. Besides, it’s not like you could really hurt San physically with a bat, even if you tried. Unless he let you.

As soon as you round the corner to the entrance to their kitchen to see San sitting at the counter with his shoulders slumped, a crazed grin takes over your features once more.

“Oh, Sannie,” your voice is sickly sweet, and you immediately notice how his entire body tenses as it reaches his ears.

You’re no fool. You know he knew you were coming. You also know he knows you’re holding a bat in your hand right now, probably having overheard you ask Jongho for one from down the hall.

“I thought I told you to run.” 

Instantly, he’s on his feet, turning to face you with his hands outstretched in front of him in attempts to calm you down. Your eyes briefly dart to the bag of marshmallows on the counter, and you realize now why you probably had been eating some in your dream.

“A bat? Again?” Comes his first response, quirking a brow at you in curiosity. “Baby, you know you can’t hurt me with that.”

“I know,” you huff amusedly, “but I can try.”

Something in his eyes flash, and you notice how pained he seems to be in the next moment. “Are you that mad that you would hit me over it?”

“I might,” your eyes flash.

“You would beat me?” His question sounds as if his voice catches in his throat, eyes drooping as he looks at you.

Immediately, the bat is falling from your hand as your breath hitches in your throat.

“No! Oh my god, no!” You shake your head, eyes going wide. “San, I may be upset, but I would never beat you over it.”

“I know,” a cheeky grin stretches across his face as he casually leans against the counter using one hand for support. “You probably couldn’t, even if you tried. I just needed you to drop the bat.”

Sure enough, when you look down at the ground, the bat has disappeared from sight.

“Look,” you sigh, raising your one hand to rub at the side of your head, “I can handle you guys altering my dreams. I’ve known you’ve been doing so since I got here.” He quirks a brow at you. “However, what I don’t appreciate is you invading my mind because you’re fucking jealous over a stupid, petty reason, and using my own fantasies for your own gain.”

“So, if I did it if I wasn’t jealous for that reason, it’d be okay?” He smirks knowingly.

“No!” You reply exasperatedly. “Are you even listening to what I’m saying?”

“Of course I am, Baby,” he meets your gaze.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself, calming your frustrations for the moment.

“Then, do you understand why I’m so upset?” You cross your arms over your chest as you meet his gaze.

“Because I got jealous.”

“Oh, no, the jealousy I can handle.” Your response clearly catches him off guard. “I expect it from you guys, so that’s nothing new. It’s still a bit ridiculous, in my opinion, and I feel bad that you all feel that insecure about out relationships to cause such jealousy within you. You all cannot expect me to fall in love with you at the same rate, that’s just unrealistic.” You shake your head, waving your hand in the air as if dismissing the thought for the moment. “Anyways, that’s beside the point.”

You can tell he’s still stunned just from the way he blinks at you in response.

“No, I’m upset at the fact that you believed that I would only want you if you posed as someone else.” You continue, raising a finger pointedly in the air for emphasis. “First of all, that’s untrue. Second of all,” you slowly begin closing the distance between the both of you, and you notice how he backs himself against the wall until you’re standing right before him. Without thinking, you place a hand beside his shoulder to support yourself, practically holding him there as he watches you with hooded eyes. “The fact that you decided to make that choice for me, irritates me. You don’t know what I want. Hell, I don’t know what I want half the time, but I don’t appreciate you making that decision for me.”

“Also, you don’t think I haven’t come to terms with the fact that I know you’ve all seen me naked before with your little voyeristic tendencies?” You notice the way he swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes briefly trail down the front of your body. “Believe me, that took some heavy mental talking through on my part to even be in the same room as you all after I figured that one out. Knowing Yeosang may or may not be the biggest voyer of you all changes nothing about what I feel for him now.”

A low growl emanates from his chest, and you have to suppress the way you want to roll your eyes. Only, you fail to notice the way his own dart to a spot beside your head, seemingly looking past you for the moment.

“What upsets me, is the fact that because of your jealousy, you would attempt to throw your own brother under the bus because of the way I feel about him.” You meet his gaze once more. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to work.”

“Oh, yeah?” He quirks a brow, eyes briefly darting down to your lips for the moment before staring deeply into your own. His voice drops to a mere whisper. “Just what am I trying to do here, Baby?”

“You,” you shift your hand that had been supporting yourself against the wall in order to place a pointed finger on his chest, “are trying to get me not to like him more than you. Only, your little plan has now backfired on you tremendously.”

His chest rises and falls dramatically. The spot where your finger is pressed against his skin, even if separated by the material of his shirt, burns. A heat floods his veins as he attempts to control his breathing for the time being, but being this close to you, given the situation, San cannot help but become surrounded by everything you.

Again, he glances at your lips, eyes hooding over as he licks his own.

“Oh, you want to kiss me so badly right now,” he smirks. “Don’t you?”

Your brow quirks, and you mirror the smug look on his face with one of your own. Slowly, you trail your finger up, allowing your nail to graze over his chest as you come to cup the side of his jaw in the palm of your hand, thumb settling dangerously close to the corner of his mouth as you lean in. The ghost of your breath tickles the skin of his lips.

“San,” the way you whisper his name as you glance downwards has a pleasant shudder wracking his entire body, anticipation clawing at his chest. “You’re projecting.”

Patting the side of his cheek a few times, you go to pull away from him, much to his disappointment. The pout is back on his face in an instant, even deeper than before as he watches you slowly back away from him.

“Next time I catch any of you in my dreams like that, I won’t hesitate to kick your ass in my own domain.” You state, raising your finger to point threateningly at him. “Also, I’m stealing these.”

Swiping the bag of marshmallows off of the counter, you go to turn around. Only, you don’t expect to see Yeosang leaning against the entranceway when you do, a smug look pulling at his features.

“Oh, stop looking so smug, you’d be in the same boat if the roles were reversed.” You roll your eyes playfully at him, and you watch as he tilts his head in slight acknowledgement. Carefully, you lean back onto the counter, grabbing a marshmallow out of the bag and holding it in your hand. “So, which one of you is going to tell me who the voyer was that spied on me that first night in the bathtub?”

Yeosang nearly loses his balance against the doorframe, righting himself in the next moment as he and San share a look.

“You think I didn’t realize it was fucking one of you after that whole 'we can appear in mirrors’ bit?” You quirk a brow, popping the treat into your mouth before pulling another from the bag. Swallowing the sugar in your mouth, you then add, a little louder than before, “I include all of you in this, by the way.”

Immediately, you feel that pure white string humming with vibration. You open your void.

It wasn’t me, I swear, Gorgeous. Wooyoung’s voice echoes through your head, a bit desperate with how he pleads for you to believe him. I stole your panties, but that was it.

I believe you, Woo. The instant relief you can sense from him as you say this has you huffing in amusement before closing off your mind once more.

You shoot an expectant look towards Yeosang, brow raised in question as he practically sputters in his spot, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Well?” You tilt your head slightly at him. “Who was it?”

You hear San laugh from beside you, snatching the marshmallow still held in your hand before raising it to his lips. “You’re staring right at him, Baby. I wasn’t lying when I told you that he’s the biggest voyer of us all.”

You blank, blinking a few times as you watch Yeosang glare at his brother beside you who happily pops the sweet treat into his mouth in the next second. His expression says it all.

A loud sigh escapes your lips as you pull another marshmallow out of the bag, staring at it in contemplation as you rotate it slowly in your hand. Not even a moment later, you freeze, eyes darting up to meet Yeosang’s who stands there as still as a deer in headlights.

“You little shit,” you throw the marshmallow in your hand at him, running after him in the next second as he takes off sprinting down the hall. “Get back here!”

Even more marshmallows are tossed after him as you chase him around the first floor of the house, the soft ammunition bouncing harmlessly off of him each time they meet their target.

A laugh is in his voice as he apologizes, attempting to calm you down. The best part though, is that you both know you’re not really mad at him, just slightly exasperated for the moment. It’s quite amusing to watch, and overhear. At least, for the others.

Ten minutes later and you’ve given up trying to catch him as you’ve ran out of marshmallows to throw. You sternly tell him, and subsequently all of them, not to do something like that, or what San did earlier, again. Of which, they all immediately assure you that they haven’t since you came to them all those weeks ago, and they won’t do so now, anyways.

Well, there go your plans for sleeping early today seeing as you’re now wide awake.

Letting out a small breath through your nose, you make your way towards the cinema room, figuring you can probably watch something to take your mind off of things for now. Plus, it’ll probably make you tired enough to sleep again.

Entering the room a moment later, you notice both Mingi and Jongho sitting on opposite couches seemingly watching a movie. Kuroo appears to be curled up beside Mingi’s legs which are stretched out before him on the chaise portion of the sofa. A fact of which has your lips quirking slightly in the corners as you see the little black ball of fluff raise his head to watch you walk over to where Mingi is sitting in the next moment.

“Are your brothers always this frustrating?” You huff jokingly as you plop yourself onto the couch, laying down immediately so that your head is resting in Mingi’s lap, much to the male’s surprise.

Jongho spares a glance in your direction, a small pout tugging at his lips as he notices Mingi’s typical giddy grin stretching across his features as he looks down at you resting on his lap. That should be him.

“What was your first clue?” Mingi chuckles, finally over his initial shock of you coming right in only to lay yourself in his lap.

“Oh, there were many,” you nod, as if reminiscing the facts.

Not even a moment later, Kuroo stands from his spot, giving a big stretch before crawling over Mingi to settle himself on top of your chest once more. You think it’s starting to become one of his favourite spots.

“Well, hello there, Sir,” you chuckle, giving him a few scratches on his head as he curls into you. “Aren’t you a cutie?”

You continue to coo at the little kitten on your chest, unaware of how both males now gaze at you with such tender love and affection in their eyes. Their hearts swell knowing how comfortable you seem to be in this moment, and they absolutely revel in your presence. Though, none are as smug and happy as Mingi is right now. This is the first time you’ve sat with him, hell, with any of them like this, that he cannot help but to never want to move again. As long as you stay here with him like this, he doesn’t mind at all.

Briefly, the two males share a glance, Mingi shooting a pointed look at the younger male all the while.

Letting out a sigh through his nose, Jongho stands, muttering under his breath about having to go and do something or other. Only, you fail to notice his pout, or the way he pauses slightly in the entranceway, hoping that you’ll get him to stay. 

Unfortunately for him, you seem to be too caught up in petting the kitten for the moment. In fact, if Jongho didn’t know any better, he’d say you didn’t even notice him leave. His pout deepens, finally leaving the room and allowing his brother to spend some quality time alone with the one they love most.

“I thought you would have went back to bed,” Mingi’s voice manages to pull you out of your own thoughts as you mindlessly stroke a hand through Kuroo’s fur.

“Can’t sleep,” you shake your head slightly. “I’m awake now.”

“Ah,” Mingi hums, raising his one hand to begin petting Kuroo alongside your own. “I see.”

“Is this okay, by the way?” You look up at him with wide eyes, and Mingi has to strongly resist the urge to lean down and kiss you. “I sort of just invaded your personal space without asking.”

“Of course!” His answer is immediate, an eagerness to his tone. He clears his throat in the next second, composing himself a bit better. “You can lean on me whenever you want. You don’t even have to ask, I really don’t mind.”

“Good,” you grin cheekily, “cause I wasn’t planning on moving any time soon.”

A pleased rumble builds in his chest, fingers twitching as he resists the urge to touch you. All Mingi wants to do is run his fingers over your scalp, maybe massage your head a little bit, and share in that intimacy with you. Except, he doesn’t want to overstep, or push his luck for the moment. You’re already in his lap, and the last thing he wants to do is push you away. Literally.

“Thanks, Min,” you meet his gaze, a soft smile gracing your features as a gentle fondness shines in your eyes. A fondness Mingi has only ever dreamed of being on the receiving end of. “I really do appreciate it.”

“Of course, Starlight,” he returns your smile, heart racing in his chest as he cannot stop himself from brushing a hand over the top of your head affectionately. The way your eyelids flutter closed, a slight hitch in your breath following has a warmth blooming in his chest. “I am always happy to spend time with you, in any and every way I can.”

“I enjoy spending time with you, Mingi,” your eyelids fall closed once more as he continues to massage his fingers over your scalp, you practically humming in content. “You make me happy.”

“Starlight,” Mingi’s voice is but a whisper on his lips, his heart feeling as if it’s about to burst from his chest as nothing but pure love for you floods his veins.

“I’m serious, Min,” you take the time to place your hand over his which has paused momentarily over Kuroo’s body. “I know this might feel like it’s coming out of nowhere, but I really appreciate you and everything you do - everything that you’ve done - for me.”

He smiles softly, intertwining your fingers together on top of Kuroo’s fur. “I will always be here for you, whenever you may need me.”

Slowly, you bring his hand up, placing a gentle kiss onto the skin of his exposed wrist and feeling his whole body shudder beneath your touch. You allow your eyelids to flutter closed once more as you let your lips linger on his skin, feeling the way his fingers tighten their grip ever so slightly in your own.

“I care about you, Min,” you breathe out, the ghost of your breath tickling his skin as his pulse races beneath your touch. “Deeply. Probably more than I should.”

His breath hitches in his throat as he meets your eyes once more, and the tremendous amount of fondness he can see swirling within could not make him any happier than he is in this very moment.

“That’s not a bad thing, Starlight.” He whispers, eyes shining as he looks down at you resting comfortably against his thigh.

You smile faintly, “I never said it was.”

Giving his hand a small squeeze, you settle your interlocked fingers against your stomach, raising your opposite hand so that it rests on top of Mingi’s as well. In an instant, he goes back to gently running the fingers of his other hand over your scalp once more.

You turn your attention to the screen, clearing your throat lightly as a heat rushes to your cheeks. “What are we watching?”

“Oh, this?” Mingi’s lips twitch upwards slightly, noting the change in subject for the time being. “I just put it on for background noise. We can watch whatever you’d like, Starlight.”

“Oh, really, now?” You quirk a brow playfully at him. “And you’re not just saying that for me, are you? If you were watching this earlier, Min, I really don’t mind.”

“Of course not, Starlight,” he shakes his head lightly, eyes crinkling at the sides as he smiles down at you. “I want to watch whatever you want to watch.”

“Well, I want to watch whatever you want to watch, Min,” you stick your tongue out at him teasingly, throwing his own words back at him. “What’s your favourite movie?”

“Oh, no, I know what you’re trying to do here,” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“And just what am I trying to do, Min?” You quirk a brow, repeating the same words that had been spoken to you earlier that night.

“You’re trying to get my favourite movie out of me to put it on.” He replies, as if he’s caught you in your own act.

“Guilty,” you shrug. “Is it wrong to want to know more about My Moonlight?”

The way you can hear his breath hitch in his throat as you say this has a smile tugging at your features.

“Please, won’t you share your favourite movies with me, Min?” The way you’re looking up at him, innocent eyes wide and blinking, has his heart swelling in his chest.

He gives your hand a slight squeeze. “I would love to.”

Seeing your excited expression, lips stretching wide as your eyes crinkle at the sides, has a warmth unlike any other flooding his chest as he sets up his favourite movie on screen. Eagerly, you turn your head as the opening credits appear, settling deeper against his thigh as you make yourself more comfortable for the moment.

Recognition flashes across your features.

“So, you like Bond movies?” Your voice holds nothing but curiosity as you turn your attention back to him for the moment, a small quirk to your eyebrow.

“They’re some of my favourites,” he nods, a grin pulling at his features. Then, he adds with a shrug, “I just think he’s cool.”

“Sure, James Bond is cool as fuck,” you hum in agreement as you meet his eyes. “I still think you’re cooler, though.”

Mingi can hear his heart pounding in his ears as a vibrant blush creeps up his neck and onto his face, that all too familiar giddy smile taking over his features as he squeezes your hand lovingly. “Thank you, Starlight.”

“You’re probably a better spy than him, too,” you observe, eyes briefly meeting his own, “or should I say, assassin?”

A pleased rumble builds in his chest at your praise, sitting a little straighter in his seat for the moment. “You could say that.”

“Not gonna lie, Min,” you bite your bottom lip, almost teasingly. “That’s really hot.”

The growl that escapes him is nothing short of smug, his grip tightening on your hand as he pulls you slightly closer into him.

“I always aim to please,” his voice is low, words but a growl on his lips as his gaze stares transfixed with your own.

“As far as I’m concerned,” the corner of your lips twitches upwards in a smirk as your tongue darts out to wet them, “you haven’t missed yet.”

For a moment, only the sounds from the movie playing in the background can be heard as you both stare deeply into each other’s eyes. Mingi has to suppress the urge to pull you up and into his lap in this very moment, claiming your lips with his like he so often wants to do. Still, he cannot help the way his heart positively flutters at your confession.

The both of you are pulled out of your thoughts as you watch Kuroo stand on your chest, stretching briefly before jumping down and trotting out of the room. A pained noise leaves you as he does so, your free hand moving to grasp over your left breast.

“Kuroo, that hurt, you little shit!” You call after him, a pout pulling at your features.

Mingi cannot suppress the laugh that escapes him, even as you turn your overdramatic pout towards him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll survive.” You chuckle, rubbing at the skin of your chest lightly. “My boob will never be the same, though.”

“I could inspect it for you,” Mingi offers casually, his attention back onto the screen in front of you briefly before he quirks a brow playfully as he glances down at you once more. “You know, make sure everything’s still working properly, and stuff.”

“Mingi!” Your mouth parts in shock, moving to slap his arm playfully with your free hand. “You pervert!”

“Just doing my duty and expressing my concern for you, Starlight,” he chuckles, noticing how you avert your gaze in embarrassment in the next moment.

“Mmhmm,” you scoff, rolling your eyes teasingly. “Just say you want to touch my boobs and be done with it.”

“I mean,” he shoots you a hopeful look out of the corner of his eyes, “if you’re offering.”

“Mingi!” You sound so scandalized as your mouth falls open once more, laughter falling from your lips in disbelief. “Don’t make me bite you.”

“You say that as a threat, Starlight, but honestly, that just sounds like a good time to me,” his voice rumbles out, more chuckles falling from his lips as his eyes flash in amusement.

You open your mouth as if to say something else, before deciding against it. The cutest frustrated pout pulls at your features as you turn yourself onto your side, head still resting against his thigh as you tuck his arm underneath your own, grumbling under your breath about ‘damn horny demons and their damn perverted ways.’

Mingi cannot help but laugh once more, a pleased hum building in his chest as he feels you still laying against him. You even go so far as to settle deeper against his thigh, making yourself more comfortable in this new position as you watch the screen in front of you.

The best part? You still have his arm tucked up against you for the moment, even if you’ve let his hand go. Though, not for long as your opposite arm comes to wrap itself over the back of his own seeing as it’s more comfortable for you in this position.

Then, you do something that Mingi does not expect at all.

Slowly, you begin to move his hand upwards the slightest bit until his entire palm is resting over the skin of your one breast, directly over your heart.

Mingi freezes, the tips of his ears burning bright red as he attempts to control his breathing for the moment. So badly does he want to let his eyes shift, but he holds them off. For now. Especially when he sees you turn to look at him with a sharp gaze in the next moment.

“No funny business,” you warn him, a playfully stern look on your features before turning your attention back to the screen in front of you. “Your hand is warm, that’s all.”

Carefully, Mingi allows his hand to relax against your chest, loving how you keep yours curled securely around his own as his fingers come to settle against your skin. Even despite the barrier of clothing between his palm and your breast, he cannot help the tingles that erupt on the palm of his hand, travelling up his arm and settling comfortably in his chest as another content rumble builds within.

The comforting beat of your heart pulses beneath the skin of his palm, and he feels every breath you take. Each time your heart races, his fingers twitch, the tips subtly pressing firmer into your skin just to be able to feel your pulse better. 

Nothing could take this intimate moment away from him right now. The fact that you feel comfortable enough with him, that you trust him enough to hold his palm against your heart like this, practically cupping his hand against your one breast, could not bring him any greater joy than he feels in this moment with you.

For over an hour, the two of you rest like this together, simply basking in each other’s presence as the movie plays on before you. It gets even better when Mingi feels you curling in closer to him at one point, your breathing evening out and signifying that you’ve managed to fall asleep against him.

Mingi only hopes the sound of his own racing heart isn’t loud enough to pull you out of your slumber. Never does he want to wake you, let alone move you from this position with him, for this is everything he could have ever asked for, and so much more. The significance behind this moment surrounds him, flooding his veins at the fact that you are comfortable enough to not only curl up against his leg with his hand resting on your chest, but also fall asleep on him.

A soft smile tugs at his features as he gently runs his free hand over the top of you head once more, feeling you hum subconsciously as he does so. Fuck, if Mingi already wasn’t head over heels in love with you, this moment only proves just how deeply he is.

All too soon, the movie comes to an end, and Mingi almost contemplates putting on another one just so that the two of you can stay in this position for a little while longer. However, he knows he shouldn’t, and that it would be in his best interest to actually help you into bed. It is quite late, and you have been sleeping against him for the better part of an hour already. Besides, he doesn’t want you to strain your neck.

Dragging out his movements for as long as possible, Mingi slowly turns off the system around him. For a moment, he contemplates simply teleporting you to your room, but he figures you’d probably appreciate it more if he let you enter it yourself instead of just inviting himself in, even if it’s just to drop you off in your bed.

Carefully, Mingi begins brushing his hand over the top of your head, voice gentle as he pulls you from your slumber.

“Starlight,” he coos, thumb brushing against your forehead. “Starlight, come on, let’s get you to bed.”

A small groan is heard from you as you return to consciousness for the moment. You stretch lightly, lashes groggily fluttering open as you look up at Mingi through tired eyes. “Moonlight?”

“It’s just me,” he smiles down at you, helping you sit up in your sleep filled haze. “Come on, you’ll be more comfortable in your own bed.”

“Okay,” you mumble, standing to your feet in the next moment, only for your entire body to wobble slightly, practically falling into Mingi as he steps in to support you in the next moment.

Your head practically lulls onto his chest as he wraps an arm around your waist to help support you. He can tell you’re still half asleep, given the way he guides your body out of the cinema room after flipping off the lights, and down the hallway to your own bedroom in the next moment.

Stepping through the threshold, Mingi notices Kuroo already curled up in the centre of your bed, letting out a small chuckle as the kitten raises his head to observe the sudden intruders into your room. At seeing that it’s two familiar faces, Kuroo settles back down into his little ball, mewling softly as Mingi helps you sit on the edge of the bed.

Not even a minute later, Mingi has shifted Kuroo over enough to help you crawl beneath your covers, noting the way your eyes can barely stay open for the moment as you smile up at him from your pillow.

“Thank you, Min,” you mutter, a yawn escaping you in the next moment as you settle deeper into your bed.

“Of course, Starlight,” he smiles down at you, leaning in to place a lingering kiss onto your forehead. “Sleep well, Pretty One.”

Just as he goes to turn away, the feeling of your hand reaching out from beneath your covers and grasping onto his own has him pausing in his movements. Sparing a glance down at the way your hand grasps his own, Mingi can only blink at you with wide eyes, chest swirling with anticipation as his breath catches in his throat.

“Where-“ you inhale a deep breath, “going?” You seem to be fighting against every urge telling you to fall back into your deep slumber for the moment as you give a weak tug on his arm. “Want-“ you yawn once more, “stay.”

Mingi swears his heart is about to leap from his chest at the way it begins thundering beneath his skin. “You want me to stay?”

The vigorous nod you manage to make has a warmth unlike any other blooming within him.

“Alright, Starlight,” he smiles lovingly down at you, noticing how a relaxed, yet pleased all the same, smile stretches across your features. “I’ll stay. Just let me close the door.”

The second nod you give him is much more lax than the first, this one being a simple jerk of your chin as your eyes remain closed for the moment.

In no time at all, Mingi has softly closed the door to your room, moved Kuroo to the end of the bed, and crawled in beside you on the opposite side. Almost immediately after his head hits the pillow, you’re turning to face him, curling yourself into him with your head on his chest and your arms wrapped securely around his waist. Hell, even your one leg gets tossed over one of his own.

“S’okay?” You mumble into the skin of his chest, wiggling slightly closer as you feel him wrap his one arm around your back, the other coming up to gently cradle the side of your face.

“Always, Starlight.” He hums, and he just knows from the way you smile sleepily that you can hear how frantically his heart is racing beneath your head right now. “Are you okay? Are you comfortable?”

“Very.” You nod once more, words slightly more coherent for the moment as you tilt your head upwards to gaze at his face through heavily lidded eyes. “You’re very comfy, Min.” You hum, “and warm.”

The content rumble that reverberates against you has you chuckling faintly, another hum escaping you.

“Pretty Min,” you sigh, curling deeper into him as you rest your chin against his chest in order to continue staring into his eyes. Then, you’re lifting yourself slightly upwards, all the while moving closer into him. “Will you kiss me goodnight?”

Mingi swears that were he not already laying down, he would have collapsed right there on the spot. Instantly, his grip is tightening around your waist, the hand he has gently resting against your cheek gripping onto you a bit firmer as he guides your lips to his own, holding them there for a moment just incase you want to back out still. Once he knows you won’t, his hands begin to shake.

“Always, My Queen,” his voice is but a whisper against your lips before he’s pressing his own to yours gently.

The kiss is soft; tender. Neither of you expect more than what the other is willing to give for the moment, but it conveys all that you want it to. It portrays your feelings: the happiness you feel in this moment, and how comfortable he makes you. Most of all, though, even if it’s just a simple meeting of your lips and nothing more, you both can feel the love each other pours into such a brief moment in time shared with one another.

Pulling away, a soft smile rests on each of your faces. Mingi’s thumb gently strokes over the skin of your cheek as you come to settle against his chest once more.

“Goodnight, Min,” you hum, allowing your eyes to flutter shut once more as the sound of his beating heart begins to lull you back into the world of dreams.

“Goodnight, My Queen.” His voice is barely above a whisper, lips still tingling from the feeling of your own pressed against his mere seconds before.

A moment of silence passes between the both of you as you revel in each other’s arms. That is, until you’re breaking it once more.

“Hey Mingi?” Your soft voice calling his name catches his attention once more, him humming lowly in acknowledgement in the next second. A brief pause. “I love you.” You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat. “I am in love with you.”

Mingi blanks, his entire body feeling as if it’s come alive as your words settle over him. The way he knows you can hear his heart thundering in his chest, especially as you tighten your grip around him in the next moment has an ecstasy that he has not felt in centuries flooding through his veins.

He pulls you in closer, tears dotting the corners of his vision as he places a tender kiss against the top of your head, wanting to revel in this moment for just a little while longer as his emotions overwhelm him. He clears his throat, blinking away his tears and only causing once to slowly trail down the side of his face before it falls, his happiness being absorbed into the material of your pillows.

“My Queen,” his heart positively flutters in his chest as he says this, his emotions consuming him for the moment as he tightens his grip around you, pulling you impossibly closer into his chest. “I love you.”

[paradoxlemonade]

Hermitblr Fanfic Survey results: Part 1

Yes I know the text is tiny. I’m too tired to go make an individual text box for everything, so please click on the images for higher quality!

It’s interesting to see how different questions were interpreted. For example, under 30% of respondents said they liked EVO crossovers, but over 90% said they like EVO/watcher elements in at least some capacity. I would’ve interpreted these to have the same meaning, but clearly there is a difference!

What would hermitblr’s idea fanfic be according to this survey?

The fanfic is a multichapter fic rated T. It would be between 40k-70k words and have 2k-5k words per chapter. A popular ship of the author’s choice would be preferred, and it the tone would lean slightly to fluff, but angst would be present. Grian would be the main character, and it would be set in season eight.

Odds are that this sounds very familiar. But at the time of writing this, searching for hermitcrafts fics rated T between, 40k-70k words, tagged with both fluff and angst, and excluding genfics returns only nine fics, and at most two of them actually fit the above description. Taste is so wide and varied, and preferred elements don’t always occur together. This is just shows that there’s an audience for every fic, and that shooting for the middle isn’t much of a strategy. Write whatever you want!

In the mean time, stay tuned for part two in which I cover the sillier questions!

[spnfanficpond]

Weekly Pond Newsletter

Daylight Savings Time has ended in the US! Did you remember to turn your clocks back? (Note: Only turn your clocks back one hour, not all the way back to Tuesday, no matter how much you want to relive Halloween and the spooky boops.🤣)

Old Business:

2024 Secret Santa Fic Exchange - The signup form is open for Secret Santa for this year! We've already had 24 people sign up, and you've still got plenty of time if you want to join in the fun. Click here for all the details on how to participate!

SPNFanFicPond Fic Highlight - It's a series called Samnesia by @princessmisery666, and it's pretty awesome! Sam x OFC, 54k words, and it's got a little bit of everything! Click here for our review and links to each chapter!

New Member Spotlight - We got eight new members in October, and they're all pretty cool! Click here to meet them all and maybe make a friend!

November Monthly Prompt - This month's theme is Dean's all-time favorite food... PIE! Click here for some mouthwatering images to inspire you!

Last week's #TweetFicTues prompts -

New Business:

Competitive Writing Sprints - Manta Ray Arthur will host sprint sessions on Tuesday at 1 p.m. EST. Add words to your WIP and win prizes! If you've never sprinted with us before, stay tuned for announcement posts with more details.

SPN Rewatch: FanFic Edition - On Saturday at noon EST, we will be discussing 3.09 Malleus Maleficarum and 3.10 Dream a Little Dream of Me. If you've never participated in our rewatch chats before, stay tuned for announcement posts with all the details!

Tuesday is Election Day in the US! Please please please get out and vote, if you haven't already!! No matter who you're voting for, voting is the backbone of a government that is for the people AND by the people. If you think you will have trouble getting to your local election headquarters, there are a lot of places where rideshare companies are offering free rides to vote, and all kinds of other help is available in many areas. Make your voice heard!

(Divider by @glygriffe!)

That’s all for this week! To see all Pond events, and also other SPN-related things like conventions and online concerts, check out our Google calendar! Click here for a static view in Eastern US/Canada time (desktop only, no mobile app access, sadly), and click here to add our calendar to your own Google calendar! We try to keep it as up-to-date as possible. If there’s something you want to see on the calendar that’s not there (maybe a convention we missed, cast birthdays, or something similar), send us an ASK and let us know!

Hope you have a great week! - From your Admins and Manta Rays, @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @thoughtslikeaminefield, @heavenssexiestangel, and @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes!

[agirlwithdemonblood]

Through The Shadows: Chapter 5 - Glimmer of Light

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Series Summary: A hunter's Journey through despair and recovery is guided by Dean Winchester's unwavering love, leading her to reclaim her strength, voice and hope for their shared future.

Chapter Summary: Y/N wakes up next to Dean which should be the dream, but she worries it's a nightmare.

Warnings: Anxiety, mentions of anxiety.

A/N: I wanted to just add/mention that this Dean Winchester is how I picture him, some may not agree that he's a huge softie down under but I would picture him being one, so if you don't like it you don't have to read it! <3

Series Masterlist here!! & Main masterlist here!

Dean spent the night tossing and turning, his mind replaying the intense conversation he's had with Y/N. The raw honestly of her struggles had shaken him, and he worried that his questions might have been too much.

By morning, his concern had only grown when he didn't see Y/N at the breakfast table, or anywhere throughout the day. Anxiety knawed at him as he paced the bunker's hallway. Eventually, he approached Sam who was in the library.

"Hey Sam." Dean began, trying to keep his voice steady. "Can you check on Y/N? She hasn't been out of her room all day and I'm worried I might have pushed too far with the questions last night."

Sam glanced up from his book, a mix of concern and surpise spread across his features. "Yeah, I'll go see her."

Dean watched as his brother headed down the hallway, his stomach knotting with anticipation. He waited, the minutes stretching into what felt like hours. When Sam finally returned, Dean was on his feet in an instant.

"Well?" Dean questioned, his voice tight with worry.

Sam's expression was a mix of optimism and concern. "She wants to see you, go talk to her."

Dean's heart pounded as he made his way to Y/N's room. He knocked softly on the door and her quiet voice invited him in.

She was laying in bed, her face pale but a small, hesitant smile played on her lips as she looked up at him. "Hey Dean." She spoke softly.

Dean's worry softened into gentle concern. "Hey. Are you okay?"

She shrugged slightly her smile fading. "It's been a rough morning."

Dean moved closer, his eyes scanning hers. "Anxiety level? 1-10?"

Her eyes flickered with a mix of vulnerability and gratitude. "About an eight."

His heart ached at her honesty. "Was it the questions last night? Were they too much?"

Her hand moved to his, resting softly. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's just something I have to ride out."

Dean nodded, feeling a bit helpless. He gave her a gentle smile and stood to leave, thinking she may need some space, when her voice stopped him.

"Dean?" She asked, her voice unsettled.

"Yeah?" He turned back towards her with a glimpse of hope.

"Could you... stay for a bit? Maybe watch some Scooby-Doo with me?"

A smile tugged at Dean's lips, and he nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that."

He settled onto the bed beside her, the space between them filled with a comforting warmth. "Y/N clicked on the TV, navigating to a classic episode. As the familiar theme song played, Dean couldn't help but chuckle, the nostalgic tunes lightening the atmosphere."

They watched in silence for a while, the antics of the Mystery Inc gang playing out on the screen. Dean found himself laughing at Shaggy and Scooby's cowardly yet endearing behaviour. Beside him, Y/N's tense shoulders gradually relaxed, her breathing evening out as she absorbed the simple joys of the cartoon.

Dean glanced at her, noticing the soft smile spread across her face. "Feeling any better?" he asked gently.

She nodded, a genuine smile playing on her lips as she met his gaze. "Yeah, a bit. Thanks for staying."

Dean's heart swelled with affection, his earlier worries fading. "Anytime."

As the episode ended and another began, Y/N found herself stealing glances at Dean. His easy laughter and the way he relaxed beside her brought a comforting prescense she hadn't expected.

She reminded herself of the promise she'd made: not to fall in love with him. But as she watched him laugh and lose himself in the simple pleasure of the show, she realized just how difficult that promise might be to keep.

The morning streamed into Y/N's room, waking her gently. She blinked sleepily, her eyes adjusting to the light, and realized with a start that she wasn't alone. Dean was beside her, his arm draped over his eyes, still fast asleep.

Panic surged through her as she slipped out of bed as quietly as possible, her heart racing.

Her breath came in rapid, shallow bursts as she hurried down the hallway to find Sam. She found him in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee and flipping through a newspaper.

"Sam!" she said, her voice high and strained.

Sam looked up, immediately noticing her distress. "Y/N? What's wrong."

She fidgeted, her hands trembling. "Dean and I... we fell asleep together last night. I asked him to stay and now i feel like I crossed a boundary and what if he's mad? What if-"

"Whoa, slow down." Sam said, setting his coffee aside and standing up. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You fell asleep watching TV, right? It's no big deal. It happens."

"But I feel guilty." She said, her breaking. "Like I made him stay and now he'll hate me for it. My mind keeps telling me he's going to be angry."

Sam gently guided her outside, to the fresh air and open space of the bunker's entrance. "Let's sit for a minute, okay? Just breathe."

Y/N nodded, trying to follow his lead as they sat on the steps. She took a deep breath, the cool air helping to calm her racing heart.

"It's okay." Sam said soothingly, "Dean's not the type to get upset over something like this. It was an accident. You just need to talk to him."

As if on cue, the door creaked open behind them, and Dean stepped out, his face etched with concern. "What's going on?" he asked, his eyes shifting between Sam and Y/N.

Sam looked at Y/N, giving her a reassuring nod. "Do you want to talk to Dean?"

She hesitated, then nodded, her anxiety making her voice shaky. "Yes."

"I'll give you guys some privacy." Sam said, squeezing her shoulder before heading back inside.

Dean moved closer, his worry evident. "Y/N, are you okay?"

Her panic flared, her breathing becoming erratic and unstable causing her to be unable to form words. "Just... a minute."

Dean knelt beside her, his voice calm and steady. "Okay, take your time. Breathe with me, alright? In through your nose, out through your mouth."

She tried to follow his instructions, focusing on his voice. Gradually, her breathing slowed, and the tightness in her chest began to ease.

After a few moments, she felt steady enough to speak. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice a mere whisper. "I didn't mean to make you stay last night. I feel like i crossed a boundary and I'm scared you're mad at me."

Dean's expression softened, his eyes full of empathy. "Hey, it's alright. You didn't make me do anything I didn't want to. We were watching Scooby-Doo, and we just... fell asleep. No big deal."

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty. "Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden."

His heart ached at her vulnerability. "I'm sure. You're not a burden, Y/N. I was happy to stay with you. If anything, I enjoyed it. It's okay."

She took a deep breath, relief washing over her. "Okay. Thank you."

Dean hesitated, then asked gently. "Can I give you a hug?"

She paused, her anxiety flaring up briefly, but then nodded. "Yes."

He wrapped his arms around her gently, feeling a bit lighter. Dean offered her a warm smile. "How about we head back inside?"

She nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. "Yeah, that sounds good."

They walked back into the bunker together, side by side, their steps a little lighter and their connection a little deeper.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 6 coming soon stay tuned!

Like, comment, and reblog, feedback is my fuel 💕

[moonfoxgazer]

'This time, however, Danny found himself in a small town on the razor’s edge between prosperity and decline. The town called itself Amity. Danny vaguely remembered the town from his youth, though nothing really specific. He recalled playing with a hoop with some kids and sometimes helping his mother sell wares at the general store. There was that one hunter fellow he saw once with a massive beard and a bear skin coat with the head of the bear acting as a hood. But he didn’t really remember much of Amity. Though there were some who recognized him.' From Spooks and Spurs written by Sean Dillon.

Hello party people, and welcome to my @ecto-implosion art! I really wanted to play on the idea of Western Danny Phantom and explore not just cowboys but a little bit of some history of my home state and such.

I was paired with the awesome Sean Dillon and they have written this fantastic piece that I hope ya'll will enjoy. Sean went with a more spaghetti, Tarantino and Guillermo del Toro vibe, so it's more grounded in reality and has more dirt, grime and blood. Think Hateful Eight or Django vibes. :3

Now if you're interested, I have concept art and other variations of the main piece down before the cut-

Originally I went into this thinking more along the lines of DP set in the west, so I kept the ghosts and Infinite Realms as a thing and then added in a dash of Ghost king.

You had the Crown of Fire set as a hat band and then the Bolo Tie of Rage to replace the ring. My idea also was to have portable portals via six shooter and instead of a thermos, there would be the lasso and he'd just keep the captured ghosts tied up on the back of his horse, which was really just Cujo because of course the ghost dog would be his mount, it works too well.

I also did some designs for some of the other cast. These were based on a combination of historical photos, preserved outfits and modern gunfighter reenactment garb.

Tucker, Sam and Valerie.

Vlad, Walker and Ember

And lastly:

An Oppenheimer who actually is our favorite meddlesome time bastard Clockwork. Had a lot of fun with this one, Oppe is a big time figure back home so it was awesome getting to include him.

If you've read this far, thank you. I really hope you enjoy the art and story and stay tuned. Sean and I have plans for the fic they wrote, which may or may not involve adapting it into a graphic novel format.