#there’s probably a reasonable explanation i just don’t know it

[fieldofdaisiies]

Love?

Warning, this story contains explicit content!

“So, I’m not going to Rask then?” Azriel raises a brow and you can see the fire sparking in his veins. A fire full of anger and betrayal. Another spymaster job Rhys doesn’t grant him to go on. 

“Exactly,” Rhys answers tightly, nonchalantly sliding his hands into the pockets of his pants as if not noticing the turmoil within his brother. But you know he notices and probably has good reasons to not send Azriel to the continent. You gather that it simply is too dangerous right now. He would risk his life, and that of his family, and Rhysand can’t allow that.

“Oh come on!” Azriel growls and throws his arms up in despair. “Why are you doing this? Don’t you trust me anymore? Is that why you give me no jobs anymore? Why you trap within this damn court!”

You press your lips together, shoulders slouching. He would never speak about the Night Court in that way. Only if he’s really disappointed, or angry.

You want to confort him, to go up to him and hug him, hold him, or at least hold his hand. But your relationship, if you can call it that, is still secret and now is not the right moment to put the cards on the table. 

“Az…” Rhys says calmly, though his body tenses. “You need to understand. I’m doing this because of Feyre, because of the ba–”

“Fuck of, Rhys, I mean it, fuck..,,” The rest of his curse is muffled, and swallowed by the rustling of his wings when Azriel dashes out of the room, shadows vividly swirling behind him. The door slams shut with a loud thump, rattling even the cutlery in the kitchen. 

For a moment silence falls upon you, no one moves until the High Lord blows out a long, pent-up breath and throws his head back. Once straightening up again, he turns to the door but you beat him to it. Sliding off the chair quickly, you hurdle to the door and grab the handle before he can do so.

“I’ll go talk to him,” you tell Rhys and pull down the handle. “I‘m not sure he‘ll listen, but I can at least try.”

Azriel is one of the most stubborn males you have ever met. And he is proud, too proud, and hates when Rhys denies him a mission. You don’t know if your words will even break through the hard shell he often builds around himself when brooding, but you can at least try your best.

The corridor and also the staircase is dark, and slightly chilly, only a hint of moonlight lighting up the narrow space as you walk up to his room, thinking of the best way to approach him and not upset him any further.

You knock gently at first, a little louder when he doesn’t answer and then simply walk into the room when he ignores you a third time. 

Males.

Eyes closed, legs crossed at the ankles and head tipped back, he’s leaning against the bedrest of his bed, shadows lazily moving around him. “What?” he grumbles.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him. “Can we talk?” You pull your lower lip between your teeth, trying to keep your voice level and not let your irritation show.

“If you want to tell me that Rhys is right and I’m once again the idiot, you can immediately leave through the door you just walked in.” Azriel points a dismissive thumb at the door. He slowly lifts his head, his eyes open but are fixed on a point on the wall opposite him.

You frown at him. “I’m not here to talk about that, but to make you understand why he reacted like he did.”

“I’m not fucking stupid, I don’t need another explanation.”

“Well, you clearly understood it wrong, so–”

Azriel’s gaze darts to you, brown eyes still full of betrayal and hurt. “I’m not in the mood for this bullshit.”

“I know.” You let the door close behind you and walk into the room, still keeping a fine distance between the two of you. Then you exhale loudly. “He did it because of love. Because he loves–”

“Love?” Azriel's voice drips with mockery. “What do you know about–”

“Love?” you spit. “Clearly more than you.” The words slip through your lips and hit Azriel like a harsh slap. His eyes widen, shock filling them. But it’s too late to turn back now, so you add, “I’m not the one who is scared of it, to admit my love out loud, to tell you how I feel. Azriel, I know what loving someone means. And Rhys does not only love Feyre and his children, and wants to protect them at all costs, but he also loves you.”

Your nostrils flare when he doesn’t answer, only staring at you, and you wish you knew what was going through his mind.

“I told you that I loved you,” he finally mutters, dropping his gaze to his lap and his fidgeting fingers. “I said it back. I–”

“When we were fucking!” Your voice rises, hollowing through the suddenly very cold room. “It was the only damn time you said it. The only time you told me you loved. While you were fucking me, Azriel. While you had me on my knees, my ass up, my face pressed into the pillow. You couldn’t even say it straight to my face. Or while looking into my eyes!”

The frustration and slight anger about his unsaid words that has gathered over the past weeks, now bubbles up and gets the best of you.

“That doesn’t make it any less true,” Azriel breathes, and slowly, so painfully slowly, his gaze lifts.

You inhale a deep breath and pause. Then finally with a voice tinged with hurt, you say, “For me, it does.”

"Y/N …" He rubs his hand down his face, and there’s so much regret in his eyes when his gaze finds yours again, you can barely stand it. "Why did you never say anything? I had no idea."

You shake your head with a humorless laugh. "You’re such a male, obviously you wouldn’t know." Then you pull your lip between your teeth. "And I didn’t want to seem like a fool. I thought maybe this was only casual fun between us and nothing more—"

He is on you in an instant, your back hitting the wall as he captures your jaw in his palm, his other hand braced on the wall beside you. “Y/N, I love you.” He locks his gaze with yours. “I am in love with you. I am so in love with you. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn’t love you.” He drops his head, his forehead touching yours. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” He whispers over and over again until you finally start to believe it.

"And you really mean it." You meet his eyes. "You’re not just saying it to make me feel better?"

Azriel's eyes soften, and he gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean it with every fibre of my being, with everything I am. I’m such a fool for not saying it more often, out loud for the whole world to hear." He gives his head a shake and deep crease forms on his forehead. "And…and I was scared." 

His head drops to your shoulder and for a moment he doesn’t continue, only breathes in your scent and then kisses your collarbone. 

You feel tears welling up in your eyes. "Of what?" you find yourself asking after a few moments of silence. 

As he lifts his head, his eyes slowly open, a pained expression crossing his face. “Because I was scared. Scared if I let you in completely that you would see how broken I really am. And maybe that you would think … I’m desperate. That I tell you how much I love you too soon, that you aren’t ready yet. That you aren’t there yet."

You reach up, cupping his face in your hands. “Azriel, I would never think you’re broken, and even if you are, then I want to help you fix these broken pieces. You don’t have to be perfect for me. I just need you to be you."

He leans into your touch, his eyes glistening with tears. “I love you," he whispers and this time it is really honest. "Can you forgive me?“

You pull him into a tight embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “If you never assume my feelings for you again. I love you, and I’ve told you so before. Don’t ever think I’m not ready to say it out loud, to confess my love for you out loud, to love you openly and freely."

He holds you close, his voice a whisper in your ear. “Let me show you that I mean it.” Azriel kisses your neck. “You spoke of us fucking and I don’t like this word to describe what it feels like between us. Let me make love to you. Let me show you how much I love you. Let me worship you."

Driven by desire and the wonderful four letter word, you both discard off your clothes in an instant, leaving you bare and fully exposed on the bed in front of him.

Azriel is kneeling between your thighs, your feet braced on either side of his hips as his heated gaze drops to your core. It‘s where damp heat already pools and soon Azriel’s mouth finds its place, to lick, and feast and devour. Soft, quick pants leave you when your eyelids start to feel heavy as you fully give yourself to him. Slowly dissolving into heat and pleasure.

Your knuckles turn white from how tightly you hold onto the pillows next to you, watching Azriel dip his head between your thighs. A low groan leaves Azriel, the sound raw and primal, turning you molten, and your legs begin to tremble. Your back arches into him, into the soft brush of his lips against your core, the feel of his tongue inside of you, but his firm grip on your thighs only tightens. He keeps you in place, exactly where he wants you to be.

"You taste—" He starts and drives his tongue into you once more, licking one long stroke from your centre up to your clit. "Divine."

He meets your gaze, watching for your reaction. But you can’t answer, you’re rendered dumb, feeling too hot, your nerves too stimulated. You can only moan and it makes the shadowsinger grin against your wet heat.

The strong tendons of his throat stand out when he clenches his jaw, his pupils dilating even more when he dips his head again. The broad stroke of his tongue through your silken folds up to the apex of your thighs, has you squirming. Your back arches even more, your hips lift, pressing against his face and a lewd gasp leaves you. 

It is the firm grip of his scarred hands that places you back on the bed, that holds you tightly, that limits your movements. Azriel chuckles lowly, sending vibrations and hot air right into your core. You squirm against him and the shadowsinger tips his head back only an inch. “Baby,” he coos, grinning, his lips glistening with saliva and your arousal. “Relax and let me worship you properly. Let me show you how much I love you. How much I need you.”

Using first one and then two scarred fingers, he brings out the most pleasure as he feasts, his tongue driving deep into. He licks and suckles, holding you firmly, the sounds that leave his mouth sounding like a sin in your ears. Azriel is like a hungry, starved male, his primal need fully unleashed, his restraints gone. You wreathe beneath his ministration, your walls clenching before you shatter, fall apart and fully dissolve into pleasure, crying out his name.

Wave after wave of hot pleasure wash over you, pulling you under, drowning you in passion and desire. And love.

You come with his name on your lips.

Azriel lets you ride out your height, softly guiding you through it, his tongue and lips still sloppily licking and kissing your sex and then a slow path up your belly. "I love you. I love you. I love you so much." He whispers against your navel, kissing your soft skin, up to the valley of your breasts. "I love you." 

Azriel pampers your collar bone in small pecks, all the while he tells you he loves you, over and over again until his mouth finds yours. But before he kisses you a second time, he holds your gaze and smiles. "I love you, Y/N, and I‘m sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn’t. I want the whole world to know how much I love you. And that," —he kisses you— "you‘re mine. Fully and completely."

He leans down and flicks his tongue over the hardened peak of your breast, while he positions his hard length against your entrance. His lips close around your nipple, licking, suckling. 

“Yes?” Azriel breathes against your breast. Your hips give a little jerk, making him slide him just the slightest bit. You revel in the feeling of the crown of broad cock pressing against you.

But he doesn’t move, doesn’t allow you to rub your hips against him any further. Instead, he says, "Words, baby. Use your words. Tell me what you want."

“I need you, Az. I need you in me. Please. Please, make love to me!”

Azriel’s reaches down between your bodies and adjusts himself between your thighs, softly pressing against your hot flesh. “Look at your dripping cunt, already soaking me.“ He grins as he meets your eyes again, but there’s an emotion in his eyes that catches your attention. One that makes tears spring to your heavy-lidded eyes. Love. 

Then he slides in and it has you both gasping. Both of you look down at where you are connected. Azriel’s lips part in a silent hiss. “Fuck your perfect. Your tight little pussy is gripping my cock so well.”

Azriel stretches you out to the fullest as he slides further into you, slowly pulling out and then moving into you again, making you feel every inch of his glorious, hard length, and drawing out the utmost pleasure from you. 

He leans in, softly brushing his lips against yours. “We were made for one another." Then he pushes into the hilt. The same moment, your hand slides into the hair at the back of his neck and your lips close over his. “We do,” you whisper. “You feel so good, Azriel.”

Azriel’s lips curl against yours when he stills for a moment, letting you both savour the moment.

Once you fall into the perfect rhythm of soft, gentle love making, his hips brushing yours with every time he moves deep into you, one of his hands slides to your lower belly gently adding pressure. You pull your legs up, curling them around his waist and moan at the feeling of it. Gods, it truly feels perfect. 

“Az…“ you whine, your eyes rolling back in your head as your nails pierce the skin on his shoulders. 

His entire body covers you, his wings flared, creating something like a cocoon around you. And then he kisses you deeply, with fever and passion, his tongue meetings yours with every stroke and his pace increases. 

“Tell me how good I make you feel,” Azriel whispers when his lips close over your lips once more. You love his cocky confidence in the bedroom and how sure he is off his skills when you’re tangled in the sheets.

“So good,” you breathe through gritted teeth, your head thrown back, your eyes squeezed closed, the sound of skin moving against skin in your ears.

Azriel kisses a path down to your breasts, taking your right nipple into his mouth. He hums against our skin and you can feel yourself clench around him. 

"I'm close.“ You let your nails scratch down his back as you cry out.

"Let go." You know he can feel you tighten around him, your walls hugging him tightly, almost milking his cock. 

The spymaster’s pace turns softer once more, slowly, steadily moving in and out of you. His thrusts are long and coordinated now. A lewd sob parts your lips, as your back bows of the bed. Calluses scrape over your soft skin when Azriel’s hand slides up your body, cradling your face. He lowers his forehead to yours, exhaling warm air that feels like a summer breeze against your skin.

"Look at me," he demands softly. "Look at me and let me see the pretty look on your face when you come around me."

And so you open your eyes, pupils fully dilated, mouth still agape. 

"Good girl,“ he praises and a grin forms on his lips. "I love you so much."

Your back arches, pressing against the solid body of your lover, your mouths meeting in a sloppy brush of lips and teeth and tongues. Azriel’s stomach flexes, cock twitching and balls tightening. He’s close as well, but he always wants to make sure you come first. Or at least that you come at the same time.

Giving you the last little push you need, he thumbs clit, rubbing small circles against the bundle of nerves, adding the tiniest bit of extra pleasure that lets you fall over the edge and dissolve into pleasure.

Your pants come out quicker, your moans getting higher. You claw at his shoulders, flecks of white and black sparking in your vision when your eyes roll back. You clench around him, and a lewd cry parts your lips as you come. 

Azriel follows you not even a second later, his entire body trembling as his release spurts against your walls, his forehead dropping to yours. 

"I love you, baby. I love you so much,“ he breathes against your skin, cradling your face. "I love you."

Together, you ride out your high, hips moving sloppily against one another, mouths occasionally meeting in open-mouthed kisses as you continue to whisper sweet declarations and words of love.

And when you finally lie in each other’s arms, you meet his eyes and say, "See, I know a lot about love."

Azriel smirks and simultaneously pinches your butt. "Smartass."

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @cadiawrites @bookishbroadwaybish @tele86 @fuckingsimp4azriel

[soobrat]

siren v

genre; AAANGST

warnings; heavy slut shaming, insecurity

preface; I just peeped a plot hole... I have a reasonable explanation why the live feed wouldn't have caught any of the sex stuff I promise </3

siren masterlist

The car ride back is a quiet one. Not in an awkward way, which is surprising since you’re involved. Jaemin just holds your hand and gazes out the window, glancing over occasionally to smirk at you like a child who got away with something naughty.

He quietly slips his hand back into yours as you two walk back into the beach house. It’s early, so there are only two people downstairs. You see Yizhuo nursing a cup of coffee as she exits the kitchen. 

“Lookie who’s back first!” She lets out a suppressed squeal so as to not awake the others. She glances at the two of you holding hands as she approaches. Her wiggling brows make you break eye contact.

“Chaeyeon’s not back yet?” Jaemin asks. You push it aside. This is not a big deal. He’s allowed to be interested in other people. It’s only been three days.

“Nope! Did they wake you guys up?” Plus, they probably spoke to each other when you weren’t around. Maybe he just clicks with everyone like he clicks with you. You swallow the nasty taste in your mouth.

“Yeah, I was sleeping good, too.” Maybe he gets along with her better. Makes sense he would seek her out and get to know her. Makes sense that he would click better with someone like her.

The person you heard fumbling around in the kitchen calls your name. You look up to see that Yizhuo and Jaemin had already retreated to the couch, then over at Taehyun who had called your name. 

“Hm?” Is the only thing you can muster up with the melon-sized lump in your throat.

Taehyun gives you his signature stare that doesn’t clue you into fuck all he’s thinking. “Nothin’.”

You can’t pinpoint why, but you’re suddenly bristling. You think back to the idiotic notion that Taehyun is into you. Fucking Jaemin probably isn’t into you. Who do you even like? Are you gonna be crushed by Jaemin picking Chaeyeon all because you guys have an inside joke and he fucked you? That’s a fuck buddy at best and a guy who successfully swindled his way into your pants at worst. Your mom was right.

And why are your eyes trailing down to Taehyun’s exposed arms? Are you really that excited by some muscles? Your mind flickers back to the feeling of falling back on him. Fuck!

You storm upstairs, unable to respond to the three confused expressions aimed at you. 

Once you open the door to two women looking up to see who swung the door open, it hits you that you’re on television. Not only that, but your little meltdown was all caught on camera. There’s no way the producers wouldn’t use that in the final edit, or that at least one live audience member didn’t catch that. You sit on your bed, struggling to stabilize your breath.

“Either your night with Jaemin was very steamy or it was horrible.” Roseanne chuckles, taking off her reading glasses. You gape at both women who were clearly all ears before forcing a smile.

“It was really nice, I miss the food already.” You’re not lying, yet you can’t relax to save your life.

“Oh, I didn’t even think about the food!” Roseanne gasps, sitting her lap desk to the side and turning toward you. “What type do they have? Pasta? Burgers? Tteokbokki?”

You shrug, feeling warm once you remember how much fun you had ordering your food. “They had a little bit of everything, well, a fancy version of everything.”

Roseanne perks up, pushing back her shoulders and tilting up her chin. “I only ask because I have a feeling I’ll be going this time.”

Both you and Somi sit up in intrigue. “Why do you say that?”

“I’m wondering the same thing. Isn’t Yunho your guy? I’m pretty sure he’s one of the guys whipped for Chaeyeon.” Somi says her name mockingly.

‘Maybe I don’t have to be worried about being hated afterall’ You think to yourself as you watch the scowl warp Somi’s features, quickly burying the thought. 

“You noticed that too?” You try.

“Everyone saw him and Mingyu basically fighting to talk to her.” Somi looks annoyed she even had to bring that up again.

“It doesn’t matter because I’m not talking about Yunho.” 

If you’re going to be the resident people watcher, now’s your chance.

“It’s Jake, isn’t it?”

“Yes… how did you know?”

“He has his heart set on you, and I can’t see you picking anyone else.”

Suddenly you feel like a mystic who just delivered Roseanne’s fortune. “I mean… yeah. He admitted to me yesterday that I’m the only one he’s looking at. I think he’s charming and we have a birth place in common, so I think I’m gonna give him a chance.” Roseanne nods, sounding like she just set that plan in motion.

“Damn, you noticed that? I don’t pay attention to any man under 182.88 cm.” Somi drives each number into her lap desk with a slam of her finger. “The only reason I noticed Taehyun staring at you was because I followed your eye line.”

“Taehyun just stares at everyone.” You say with conviction, losing that once there’s silence. “... Doesn’t he?”

“He doesn’t stare at me, but maybe I’m not paying attention.” Roseanne shrugs.

“Again. We’re basically eye to eye and that’s all I need to know.”

“Plus,” Roseanne winces. “I think Taehyun has taken interest in Yizhuo. They’ve been together a lot recently, and I think they’re even downstairs together right now.”

The smile you attempt just pinches your entire face, looking more like a wince. “There goes my back up.” You say with a pitiful chuckle. You want to spit the sour taste out of your mouth, lingering after admitting you wanted Taehyun’s interest. To yourself, Roseanne, Somi, and god knows how many others.

“You don’t need a damn back up. You have Jaemin, Roseanne has Jake, Chaeyeon has the universe, and now Yizhuo has Taehyun. Who the hell do I have?” Somi shouts, throwing her hands into the air.

“I don’t know, but then again I’m not the observant one here.” Their eyes both lock onto you. Fuck, maybe being the people watcher is a bad thing. The guys here might actually be avoiding her because she’s so intense.

“Umm…”

A knock sounds on the door, followed by it being opened. A knock means it’s most likely not a girl. You’re proven right once Taehyun’s large, labyrinthian eyes peek from around the door.

“Can I hang with you guys? I’m sick of my roommates grilling me about my pick.” Taehyun says, already closing the door behind him.

“You won’t like it here either, then.” Somi says, head angled upward staring at nothing. 

“Why isn’t she looking at me.” He asks you and Roseanne, casting a puzzled look at Somi. You snort, wondering if this will finally make him tick.

“She says she doesn’t look at guys under 182 cm.”

“182.88” She corrects, still looking toward the ceiling. 

“Right.”

Taehyun sighs with faux wistfulness. “Do your thing, I guess.”

Your smile drops in annoyance.

“If you guys insist on hounding me too, I’ll just tell you off the bat. It’s not Chaeyeon.”

“Why do you say that?” You ask, desperately curious about people not being watched.

“They all kept going on and on about her and why it’s crazy that I’m not pursuing her.” Taehyun’s eyes flutter shut as he leans back on Yizhuo’s bed.

“Who was going on and on about her?” Somi perks up.

“You already know who.” You and Roseanne say in unison. Roseanne in confusion and you in annoyance. You wish she’d stick to a trait. Is she cool and aloof or desperate. She’s even staring at Taehyun, who she just said was too short to look at.

“It was the first thing Mingyu talked about when he got back, so he started it. He was like a teenager with a crush, but Yunho was like a scorned lover watching his wife cheat from the shadows. And Jaemin–”

“Jaemin?!” It was Somi and Roseanne’s turn to share an exclamation. Your thoughts are still frustratingly cluttered from earlier. You can’t pinpoint how you truly feel. Well, you can, but you can’t pinpoint why you’re like this.

“He said something about Mingyu being lucky a girl like her gave him a chance.” He says dryly. No emotion or empathy. You bite down on your cheek, feeling your eyes sting. That sizzling rage is building again. It’s happened both times Taehyun has intruded on your difficult feelings about Jaemin. You glare at him, holding the blank stare he gives back.

“You happy now Somi?” You laugh, looking down at the covers you pulled over your legs and begging yourself not to cry. “I have no first choice or back up.”

“Do you want me to be honest? Yeah, I feel less alone.” She says cautiously, eyes darting from person to person to see if she crossed a line. 

“I don’t think that’s true. There’s no way Chaeyeon’s looking at anyone but Mingyu. Even if she did, you and Jaemin get along more than anyone else.”

Right. She’s right. Why is self deprecation so easy for you? And look at you, sulking like a baby in front of these strangers and possibly a lot more through the cameras.

A tone sounds.

“Singles! Did the two lucky couples have fun on their date? Are those who didn’t go ready for a chance? Head down to the backyard for further instruction.”

The people hanging out in the living room must’ve been sent upstairs, judging by them awkwardly standing outside the bedrooms. It’s Jaemin, Yizhuo, and Chaeyeon. You only noticed now that she never came upstairs.

All ten of you trickle down the stairs, gasping at what’s set up. The entrance to the backyard is propped open to reveal another lit platform. Atop it is a privacy booth. They lined rose petals and candles all the way to the entrance. To the left is a large board with all the faces of the male contestants.

Employees direct you where to stand, separating the women from the men. You’re all put in a straight line on either side of the booth.

“Ladies, this show is all about you. It’s time you take charge. Each woman will go into the booth and pick their guy. However, once she emerges, the other female contestants will have to guess who she chose. Guess correctly, you get to jump the line. Tie or guess incorrectly, the order will continue based on audience popularity. Also, TWO strikes, you don’t go at all.”

Only a few people have the energy to react in shock. Others are too consumed by anxiety. You, however, untense. Thankfully, you were popular previously. You hope you didn’t plummet that fast.

“The first girl with overwhelming love from netizens tuning into the live feed from across the globe is…”

People start to look around anxiously, you can see it from the corner of your eye. You don’t dare to look. You’d be embarrassed if they were looking at you for winning previously, and you’d be devastated if they were looking at the obvious choice.

“Chaeyeon! Make your way to the booth.”

Technically this is great news for you, horrible news for Somi. That would really suck if she got last again. You look over, eyes narrowed from the bright sun and brows furrowed in worry. Except, Somi isn’t angry or annoyed like she usually is. She looks sad.

“It looks like Chaeyeon made her choice! Ladies, make your way to the board and make your choices.”

Each girl had a column with all five boys velcroed to the board.

“Once you’ve made your choice, make your way back to your spot.”

You stand there awkwardly with a pretty large picture of Mingyu in your hands.

“The choices go as follows:

Yizhuo: Jaemin,”

Your head snaps toward her. You hadn’t even looked at their choices. You just assumed everyone would pick Mingyu.

“Somi: Mingyu,

Roseanne: Jaemin,”

Your heart sinks. Wasn’t she just trying to comfort you? Saying that Jaemin only clicked with you?

“___: Mingyu.

Chaeyeon, please reveal who you chose.”

No way she’d choose Jaemin. They couldn’t have had that much time to chat. Except… 

Your mind flickers back to the three who had been sent upstairs from the living room. That’s why Yizhuo chose Jaemin. She saw it happening. Did Roseanne see something too?

“Jaemin.”

Audible shock echoes all around you. 

“Chaeyeon and Jaemin, please hold hands as you make your way to your car out front. Chaeyeon smiles, it’s like one a princess dons when she’s being observed. Jasmin’s is wide, like the one he had pointing to the coasters he wanted to ride with you. Them holding hands to top it all off felt like a punchline at your expense. Sure, they were instructed to but your treacherous stomach doesn’t care. It just keeps turning.

You couldn’t keep your eyes off of them until they disappeared, which means you got to see him not looking at you once.

“Yizhuo and Roseanne tied, which means the order will go according to popularity. Roseanne is up next.”

Yizhuo is pretty much screwed here. This competition is ruthless. She watches Roseanne enter the booth like a hurt puppy. She most likely noticed Roseanne giving Jake a chance.

The three of you immediately go to the board, ripping Jake’s face off the board in unison. It would be funny if any of you were in the mood to laugh.

“It looks like all three contestants chose Jake! Roseanne, reveal who you chose.”

You’ll at least get to choose Taehyun and see what his deal is. That is, if Yizhuo isn’t more popular than you. Your brain goes back to you stomping up the steps after Jaemin simply says Chaeyeon’s name. You probably seemed like a possessive weirdo. God… were you last place?

You look up at Roseanne who hasn’t answered fast enough for your liking. You receive an apologetic look in return. 

No. 

“Yunho.”

Audible shock, yet again. Now you’ll never know if you were dead last after all.

“Somi and ___ are disqualified! That means Yizhuo is the last to pick her guy!”

Was this some sick plan by Roseanne? She knew Jaemin would get picked so she misled you guys? Twice?? 

You don’t get another apologetic look as she leaves for her car. Her eyes are glued to Yunho.

Yizhuo picks Jake, which leaves You, Somi, Taehyun, and for some reason Mingyu at the house. You can’t help staring at him as you all drink on the couch. He’s perfect. Even now, where Yunho would be unattractively bitter, he’s in high spirits. Trying and failing to lift the mood. 

“Come on, guys! The show isn’t over yet. And who says they’ll enjoy the date? If anything this could be a good thing. It could show them the actual right choice.”

Mingyu has a right to be that blindly confident. He looks like a Ken doll. Unfortunately your date is off with someone who puts Barbies to shame.

-🖊️⇝

“Pile it on. That’s right.” Somi deadpans as she watches the marshmallows pour into the bowl.

“This much? Are you sure we’ll eat all these-” Somi snatches the bag from your hand, a couple mallows tumbling to the floor.

“I will.”

You wait for her to walk out the back door to rub your nose bridge. What an unfortunate group to be left behind with. Roseanne is at least easy to talk to, and even if Jaemin doesn’t like you romantically, you definitely feel comfortable talking to him. That thought soothes you a bit. You and Jaemin could make great friends. You grab the bags of chocolate bars and head toward the fire Mingyu started.

Despite this scenario being perfect for Somi, the last few hours of effort seem to have gotten her nowhere. Mingyu just about pats her on the head in response to every flirt.

Mingyu looks pretty conflicted as you all roast marshmallows. Maybe the last few hours have gotten to him, too. You nearly jump when he calls your name.

“Who’s your other pick? Like, if Jaemin and Chae stay together?”

You’re struck by the question for multiple reasons. You’re surprised he cares, for one. But this is also a strange change of character. The whiplash is reminiscent of Somi. And he already has a nickname for her? Such a harsh game.

“I actually don’t know. I guess I should start getting to know more of the guys. How ‘bout you?”

You don’t expect Mingyu to throw his head back and yell out in exasperation at that question.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” 

You watch your marshmallow as the flame engulfing it slowly shrinks until it’s nothing. It’s not even awkward sitting here anymore. It’s just pitiful. The way things are turning out, the four of you may go home alone. You shudder thinking of those humiliating shots of the contestants who go home alone. How they try to force a smile so as to not look hurt. 

You really didn’t want to be that person. You only mustered up the courage by telling yourself you’d be missing out on something if you didn’t. But you’re not, you’re the same loser you always are. Now with an audience to witness it.

“Don’t tell me you guys are that upset about not ending up with someone. It’s not like we’re losing anything if that happens. There’s no prize money, and you can meet people outside of the show.” Taehyun pipes up with his wisdom no one asked for.

“I do have something to lose. My dignity.” It seems that Mingyu is just burning his marshmallow to a crisp.

“If you’re worried about that then just… pair up with someone who’s also alone. I mean, the four of us are sitting here. It’s the perfect opportunity since the four of us haven’t really talked.” Taehyun is the only person actually assembling s’mores. Somi is just eating her marshmallow right off the stick.

“…Wanna pair up, Taehyun?” Mingyu chuckles at his own joke. You’re glad Taehyun doesn’t laugh as well. That would make the sour taste in your mouth (and undoubtedly Somi’s) stronger.

“What about Somi?” Taehyun widens his eyes and speaks slowly like Mingyu’s a child. Mingyu still squints in confusion.

“What?? Who’s your choice?” Mingyu turns to Somi who’s toasting up her sixth marshmallow. She scoffs, tossing the entire stick into the fire before storming back into the house.

You and Taehyun have no choice but to face palm. It’s the only way to quell the overwhelming frustration.

“Well. I’m gonna hit the hay now.” Mingyu grunts as he stands from his chair. 

The words spill from your mouth as soon as he’s out of earshot.

“He’s so goddamn stubborn, and she needs to be more direct! God! I hate watching this.” You toss your stick, hoping it landed on the table but not caring enough to check. You rest your face in your hands.

“I don’t know why you’re acting like you’re not just as frustrating.”

You shoot back up, both due to shock and the audacity of this man. Is he finally going to show his true colors after everyone else left? 

“What are you talking about?”

“You saw all these hints that Jaemin was interested in Chaeyeon. I even gave you a big one and what did you do? Run away, sulk, and be shocked that he’s happy to be with her. You could’ve been more direct, too. But no, you sat on your bed and lamented about a relationship that wasn’t even ruined yet. Still isn’t by the way.”

You roll your eyes, wanting to stand up and start cleaning so you can get out of there.

“There’s no indication that you’re romantically interested in him. You need to let him know upfront.” Taehyun scoots closer after seeing that you haven’t blown him off yet.

“Well we did… um… at the hotel we had sex.” You whisper the word like a child. 

“They won’t put that in, you know that right?”

“You read the contract too?”

“You didn’t?” 

You clench your jaw, not wanting to admit it. “I skimmed.”

“Doesn’t matter. He was horny so he fucked you. He probably assumes you have the same mindset.” 

The truth of what he’s saying mixed with the hint of smugness makes you want to punch him in the face.

“What’s your deal? You clearly don’t care about the show.” The words feel like they’re breaking out from your lips, the ones you’ve been wanting to say for a while now.

“Who says I don’t care about the show?” Just then you see it. The defensive look in his face is the achilles heel you’ve been waiting for.

“Every person, every single contestant has someone they’re making eyes at. Meanwhile you just sit in the corner and judge everybody. Why are you here?” You jump at the opportunity, hunger undoubtedly oozing from your eyes. Not that kind, you’ve been avoiding looking at his arms.

Taehyun looks taken aback, almost impressed.

“I wanted to see if I was missing out on something special.” He shrugs, seemingly back to his normal demeanor.

Your face softens against your will. 

“I get that.”

Taehyun chuckles as he reflects. “That and my friend urged me to come. He said I’m always acting like I’m too good for shit.”

“My friend did something similar. I almost chickened out at the last minute and she yelled at me.” You laugh even though you weren’t laughing at the time. “‘You do this every time and then complain that nothing’s going for you!’ I was pissed, but I turned that application in before the deadline.”

After you both settle from laughing, you feel more comfortable.

“Feel better after you got that off your chest?”

You snap your eyes at him, ready to sass him, but you decide against it.

“Yes. Yes I do.”

-🖊️⇝

The sound of your name being called is like a jolt of electricity on your normally peaceful walk to class.

“Look at this invitation I got.” Your friend says breathlessly as you both huddle against the wall. Her eyes are blown wide and she’s whispering, there’s clearly something else to her telling you this, but all you can focus on is that she got invited to a party.

“Look!” She says again at your lack of reaction. Her slim fingers slide against the thick paper before tapping her manicured nail on the acronym “B.Y.O.B”.

“Isn’t that crazy?!” She squawks a laugh and slaps your back, demanding you match her shock.

“What? You think teenagers don’t drink?”

Of course she doesn’t, because she hangs with people like you who don’t party. You hate how condescending you sound right now. You also hate that you can’t express how her getting an invite while you get picked on makes you embarrassed and jealous.

You thought maybe you’d get one by the time you graduated, but that’s more than wishful thinking. It’s denial.

-🖊️⇝

It’s the morning of. They’ll be home any minute now. Maybe Jaemin and Chaeyeon will be last because they’re dragging their feet to leave. Did they…

No, Chaeyeon doesn’t seem like the type. But then again, you never noticed Chaeyeon making googly eyes at Mingyu. Everyone just immediately assumed they’d be together because they’re both at the top of the food chain. And you’ve only gotten hints from Jaemin about them getting together, not her. You can’t read her at all. 

They fucked didn’t they.

“Stop.” Taehyun casts an annoyed look at you after leaving his room with his hair pointing in every direction. Knowing he’s referring to chewing on your nails and looking anxious as all get out, you wave him away.

“Look, let’s pair up.”

You unlatch your teeth from the raw skin around your nails to look up at him. “Why?”

“Will it make you feel better about seeing Jaemin again? You know, in case him and Chaeyeon are cuddled up.”

The thought of standing there like a deer in the headlights and getting pity stares from everyone sounds like a nightmare. Taehyun could at least distract you, he could even make it look like there’s nothing to pity since you’ve moved on. The only thing that worries you is this ruining your chances completely with Jaemin. If there’s anyone you want to leave this house with, it’s him.

“Yeah. Let’s do it.” You answer cautiously. The door opens downstairs and you hear voices. You grab Taehyun’s hand and rush down to see who it is.

It’s the two people you only wanted to see while on Taehyun’s arm. Chaeyeon looks over at you with a genuine smile. Her eyes crinkle, but it catches you off guard. She’s sneering. Not only that, but her smile falls once she sees Taehyun holding your hand.

She makes her way over, and while you’re a little scared of what she’s about to do, you kind of want to confront her. Why is the only smile that didn’t seem phony from her one that seems to be at your expense? You’ve gotten clarity on Taehyun’s deal, what’s hers?

“So two guys really did like you like Roseanne said.” Chaeyeon says with the subdued cuteness she’s been using this whole time. Her wide eyes sparkle as she grabs both your hands.

“Three guys.” Taehyun adds in. You feel dread creeping up as you look at him. Is he crafting lies to make you feel better? Because it’s not. “I see Jake watching you while you talk sometimes.” Since Chaeyeon is holding your hands, Taehyun goes for your waist instead.

“Okay, now that’s a lie.” You’re distracted from the embarrassment when incredulity overpowers it.

“Pursuing Jake is useless, anyway.” Chaeyeon says, her tone is straightforward.

“Oh, are you getting uses out of these men, Chaeyeon?” Taehyun’s tone is light, but Chaeyeon just stares blankly.

Jaemin interrupts by greeting you. You greet him back, laughing at yourself for taking so long to do so.

“How was your hot date?” You attempt your usual tone with him, but the air feels strained.

“It was good.”

The two of you stand there awkwardly. Jaemin isn’t picking at you and you’re too scared to try again. You slip your hands from Chaeyeon’s.

“Welcome back! Were the two other cars behind you guys?” You try instead. If you just walked away, you know the editor is going to play up the tension.

“Why? You waiting for Yunho?” Chaeyeon nudges you. For a second your view of her being phony falters. Maybe she doesn’t emote like other people. What’s wrong with that? She seems friendly right now. You try to hide the smirk that twitches onto your face.

“Maybe I am! And what about it.” You shrug feeling bold in the face of her.

“You should.”

“Wh-”

“We’re baaack!” Roseanne announces excitedly as she and Yunho push through the door. She seems to be dragging him a little more than she realizes, and he perks up when he sees Chaeyeon.

“We had soooo much fun! We-”

“Chaeyeon, can we talk?” Yunho slips his hand from Roseanne’s, pushing toward Chaeyeon. Chaeyeon’s shock looks weak.

“Sure!”

And with that, Yunho leads her to the backyard. Chaeyeon glances back very briefly, sneering at you once more. When all of you look back, Jaemin is already retreating upstairs. Your throat tightens up as you clench your fist. Then your eyes catch Roseanne’s, who is trying desperately to peek at Chaeyeon and Yunho without being obvious. Finally her eyes meet yours. You shouldn’t feel content in light of her disappointment, and you shouldn’t be meeting her guilty eyes with stubbornness. 

“Hey, can we talk as well?” Roseanne moves closer, grabbing one of your hands. She smiles awkwardly, but it’s contagious somehow. You roll your eyes as you both laugh before she leads you upstairs. 

“Um, could you guys give us a second?” You ask Yizhou and Somi politely but Roseanne stops you.

“No, I’ll just say this in front of everyone.” She clears her throat, her eyes unsteady for the first time since you met her. “I don’t want this show to make me ugly, and whether other people noticed or not, I was being ugly. And even if I didn’t externalize it, I knew it in my soul. So I just wanted to stop myself before anything got out of hand.” 

She turns to you. 

“___, I’m sorry for not being honest about Jaemin. We don’t owe each other anything by any means, but I’m a stickler for girl code.” Roseanne speaks about this like she’s bound by hippocratic oath and not girl code. Not that you’re knocking her for it.

“Thanks, but I was being an asshole.” You sigh, “You shouldn’t have to apologize.”

“It just wouldn’t sit right with me otherwise.” Roseanne smiles softly. 

“Speaking of which… me and Yizhou were talking…”

“Somi, no!” Yizhou tries to stop Somi but the courage has already been built up. 

“Did you know that Jaemin was flirting it up with Chaeyeon right after he got off his date with you?! I mean, fuck! What an asshole. Yizhou told me it wasn’t subtle either-”

“Okay.” You laugh inappropriately before looking at the ceiling. “That’s e-fucking-nough Somi.”

“What?! I’m trying to look out for you?”

She’s right. This is what you wanted. God! Why do you only stick up for yourself against the wrong people? No, as a matter of fact? There’s only one person who slept with you and immediately ditched you the next day. Right, you think as you march out of the room and down the hallway. You and Jaemin are the ones who need to talk. He’s the one who needs to be told that you’ve had e-fucking-nough. But as you walk, your mother’s words stain your mind.

“Who was that? Chris?” Your mom immediately grills you upon you re-entering the house. By the sound of it, your first boyfriend had only just pulled away. You scoff, confused about her aggression. “Or was that some stranger you just met?”

“M-mom?” You can’t help your bite immediately leaving you at her harsh words. 

“Where were you all night? And you better say Crystal’s house.”

“I’m nineteen, mom.” Is all you could muster amongst your incredulity and hurt.

“I don’t give a fuck, ___. Tell me you didn’t sully your body with that man?!” Your mother only ever curses in situations she thinks are dire, and it cuts through you like a knife. She grabs your shoulders and shakes you? “Did you?!?”

You want to scream and assure her that NO, you did not do what you absolutely did. But your eyes betray you. She lets go of your shoulders and her arms slam against her sides. The incredulity switches to her as her eyes bore into you until you get it. Not the way you think she wants you to. No, she wants this shame to last your lifetime. She finally relents, seeming to give up on the lost cause that is her daughter.

“You know,” she starts just as she was walking away, “that will never earn you a man’s affection.” She cuts her eyes at you.

“They can smell trash.”

And in that hallway, you stop your pursuit of Jaemin and hold your breath, afraid you’ll smell it too. 

Girls like Chaeyeon didn’t need to put out to get guys to like them. And the only two guys who have shown interest in you prove you’re exactly the opposite.

“I hope you aren’t… hey, are you okay?” Taehyun’s usual snarky tone fades in favor of concern. You can’t hold anymore. Becoming ten times more pathetic, you break down.

“Oh sh-” Taehyun draws out the beginning of the expletive as he wraps an arm around you and urges you into the nearest bathroom. It just so happens to be that one. Are you gonna put out for yet another guy? You turn away, annoyed at your raucous sobbing. 

“W-what… is… wrong with me?!” You manage between sobs, anger constricting your breathing you desperately need with all the crying. Why are you doing this in front of him? “What is wrong with me?!”

“What do you think is wrong with you?”

Taehyun starts his unsolicited therapy schtick. You laugh bitterly, humoring him, daring him to try and talk you out of your pathetic state. 

“I let him fuck me the second he made me laugh. He didn’t have to try to get into my pants. And Chaeyeon didn’t need to try to pluck him away from me.”

Taehyun laughs and you shoot daggers at him with your glare. You charge at him but he holds his arms up. 

“Woah, woah, woah. Chaeyeon tries. She tries reeeaally hard. I know from experience.”

You chut. “As if she’d pay attention to you.” 

“Right. I’m under 182 or whatever Somi said. People think I’m cold and I don’t make enough of an effort. So why did she pull me to the side and ask how close I was to you just now?”

You inhale lightly. “What’d you say?”

“I said very very close, you’re my end game.”

You roll your eyes again and he snorts.

“Be serious.”

“I am! That’s exactly what I said.”

“You told her that?!”

“And then she told me that she was sorry to hear that because she wanted to get to know me.”

Bitterness grows until it manifests in a scowl. “Why don’t you humor her? You think she’s pretty don’t you?”

He just smirks and you scowl deeper. He holds his stare for a moment.

“You’re really angry at me. Why?”

“Because you’re a fucking jerk. Has that ever occurred to you?” You answer breezily. He doesn’t even flinch. 

“I don’t mean in general, I mean just now.”

You furrow your eyebrows and shake your head, but you’re considering it.

“You’re not mad at me. You’re not even mad at Jaemin or even Chaeyeon. You’re mad at yourself.”

“D’you see what I mean.” You point out tiredly. “Asshole.” You sniff, suddenly aware of the snot on your upper lip. You quickly hide it. He sighs and grabs some toilet paper off the roll before handing it to you. 

“You shouldn’t want a guy who could be swayed from his feelings for you by something as shallow as the beauty standard.”

“You think I’m choosing to feel this way?” You ask incredulously after wiping your face. 

“Not at all. It’s not the emotion you should be critiquing anyway. Clock what’s making you feel you didn’t dodge a bullet.” Taehyun turns then, starting toward the door. He turns back one last time.

“Just some food for thought.”

[writer-freak]

Would you be willing to write some Frank Morrison x reader headcanons where the reader is the polar opposite of him?

He's aggressive at times and not patient with other people, getting angry at situations that get out of hand, meanwhile the reader is calm and rational. Could be a bit nsfw? In the sense that exploring this dynamic in a more spicy context would be quite interesting! Thanks for reading this and have a good day.

A/n: I love writing for Frank again as I haven't done it in over a year, thank you so much for this request. Also double upload today

Warnings: gn reader, not really explicit Nsfw part, but just in case I still separated them, reader is a bit of a tease

Frank Morrison x Opposite reader

Frank is very impulsive, aggressive, and always looking for a fight.

You, on the other hand, almost always think before acting, always keeping a level head even when things get completely out of control.

And That alone pisses him off sometimes, just how the hell can you stay so calm? It almost feels like you're mocking him without even trying.

Arguments between Frank and the rest of the Legion usually get heated quickly, and when he storms off to cool down, it’s not uncommon for you to be the one to find him.

You’re not scared of his temper, nor do you feed into it. Instead, you let him rant, arms crossed, nodding occasionally as he paces and curses under his breath.

You don’t try to tell him to calm down, you just let him burn out his rage, and weirdly enough, that’s what actually does calm him down.

He also kinda hates that you don’t get scared of him. You’re supposed to flinch when he raises his voice. You’re supposed to avoid him when he’s pissed.

But you don’t. Instead, you meet his glares with a completely neutral expression, asking if he’s done yet so you can actually talk.

It’s infuriating. But also kinda attractive. He doesn’t know what to do with himself when you are like this.

Frank can’t stand the delusional optimism that some of these people in the realm have, believing that one day they will be able to get out of here.

This is probably another reason why he likes you so much because you learned to accept the hell that you are now trapped in and try to make the best out of it.

You keep him in check, whether he likes it or not.

He’s reckless, quick to act on his emotions, and you’re the only one who knows how to pull him back before he does something he’ll regret.

“Frank. Breathe.” A simple phrase, spoken in that specific tone of yours, and somehow it works (though if anyone else told him that he would be even more pissed off). Not always, but enough times that he hates to admit he needs you.

He’ll rarely outright say he appreciates you. But you notice the small ways he shows it, like getting an extra cigarette for you, standing next to you without a word when you seem tired, “accidentally” leaving his jacket where you can take it when it’s cold.

He starts getting jealous in the most annoying ways.

You get along with most of the people in the realm, and that pisses him off.

It’s not even that he thinks you’re into anyone else, he just doesn’t understand how you can be so patient with people when they’re so damn stupid.

If he catches you talking to Dwight too much, he’ll suddenly appear behind you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and glaring at Dwight like, Yeah, they’re mine, fuck off.

Frank’s love language is very physical. Not in the soft, romantic way, more like grabbing your wrist and pulling you somewhere without explanation, resting his chin on your head when he’s tired, slinging his arm around your waist like it’s no big deal.

He’s not gentle, but he’s not rough with you either, just possessive.

Nsfw

Frank is very impatient, and you’re not.

This leads to some very interesting moments. He’s the type to get frustrated easily, to want things now, while you take your sweet time, teasing him just by staying calm when he’s anything but.

He also gets off on how collected you stay. It should piss him off more, but something about you keeping your cool even when he’s breathing heavy against your neck, hands gripping your hips like he’s about to lose his mind, it messes with him.

You’re not unaffected, but you make him work for it, and it drives him insane.

You have this way of keeping control without even trying. He’s rough, he’s demanding, but somehow, he always ends up following your pace.

You pull his hair, and he melts. You tell him to slow down, and he grits his teeth but obeys. He doesn’t even realize you’re the one in control half the time, it’s not until afterward that he’s like, wait a fucking second…

Jealous/frustrated in general Frank is a menace.

If he’s mad about something (or someone), expect him to take it out on you, in the best way.

He’ll have that look in his eye, with that you’re mine energy, pushing you against a wall, hands gripping your jaw as he growls something possessive against your lips.

But at the same time, you can ruin him with a single touch. It’s unfair how well you know him, how just dragging your nails down his spine can turn him into putty.

He hates it, he loves it. And he’ll make sure you pay for it later.

Frank talks a lot. He’s always running his mouth, always cursing, always vocal.

Whether he’s growling complaints about how you’re too fucking calm or moaning shamelessly when you do something that feels too good, it’s constant.

And you? You just smirk. Because you love making him eat his words.

[quibbs126]

So Alpha Trion says that the miners had their cogs removed before they came online. But like, what does that mean?

Like okay, we know from context and such that the miners’ cogs were removed basically right after being born, and I think it’s a fair guess to assume they were created from the planet in some way by Primus, given that’s been the general backstory, and if other bots were creating them, someone would have noticed their cogs going missing, or Sentinel would just order they aren’t made

Though I’m not sure where specifically they come from, since the Well of All Sparks seems to be basically a bottomless pit to the core of the planet, and the place didn’t seem particularly protected or decorated for where new bots would come straight out. Also it’s too public for no one to notice Sentinel removing the new bots’ cogs

But moving on from that, we know it happens right after they’re born, but also none of them remember it, and D-16 says as long as he remembers, his port’s always been empty. As far as we’re aware, these bots don’t really have developmental cycles, despite what we like to think, so theoretically they don’t have a case of baby memory where they just can’t remember. Again, they say it’s before they came online, so presumably it was within the time frame of being born from the AllSpark, and coming online

But like, why is there that time gap where you can conceivably remove a bot’s T-cog? Are they born unconscious? Do they take a day for all their systems to come online? Why? What’s going on here?

[synonymroll648]

headcanon that the reason sophie still has eyelashes to pull on the regular is that grady and edaline worked something out with the dizznees to get a tasteless formula to help eyelash growth specifically to put drops of in her bottles of youth. because there’s no way her ptsd-induced trichotillomania (oversimplified definition for those who aren’t familiar: hair pulling disorder) is gonna die down during the war, so they’re trying to make sure she doesn’t move from eyelashes to eyebrows or her Hair hair by giving her More Eyelashes

[please-picturemeintheweeds]

.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

people going “well we can’t know! it’s so complicated and mysterious! you’re wrong for judging!” whenever a character does anything that isn’t morally pure is something I hate so fucking much bc not only do people often sprinkle in some good old fashioned real life victim blaming by trying to state that the action is so complicated and morally grey irl too even if it’s something like murdering someone for no reason but it’s also just like. bro why do you like this character if you think they’re so unknowable either the character is terribly written or you have negative media comprehension skills like even mysterious characters who don’t tell the truth a lot can be analysed? figure out the patterns, what they stay consistent about, what we know is a lie and what isn’t to figure out what else might be lies or might be truth, and you can easily figure out their basic personality and motivation. but like, that normally makes them flawed and sometimes horrible people and we're allergic to liking characters that aren’t morally good anymore i guess. you can’t even handle morally grey characters without trying to justify their every action as okay let alone straight up villains. hell, you can’t even handle heroes that fuck up once you either think they’re evil ontologically forever or argue that their fuck up was totally fine actually like. please realise you can enjoy media and analyse it without having to make everyone a one note goodie or baddie. and slapping on the label morally grey doesn’t fix it y'all don’t even know what that means.

[heartbreakfeelsogood]

[dollivication]

ᥫ᭡. IF THEY GOT A HOLD OF YOUR PANTIES ᥫ᭡.

ᢉ𐭩 ft. hwang in-ho/player 001/the frontman, seong gi-hun/player 456, thanos/choi su-bong/player 230 , kang dae-ho/player 388, nam-gyu/player 124

ᢉ𐭩 cw: nsfw, perviness, panty-sniffing, masturbation, nam-gyu cussing you out/insulting you LOL??, fairly icky stuff, dirty fantasies, fem!reader. gooner activities. mdni

ᢉ𐭩 a/n: doesn’t take place in the games but… if you want to interpret this that way you can LOLS. sorry if it seems rushed i was very eager to take this out...

HWANG IN-HO/PLAYER 001/FRONTMAN

-honestly? he’d probably find it very endearing how you still maintain your style underneath all your clothes.

-he uses this as a better insight to your tastes. mentally noting down your preferences as he properly looks at the pair in his hands, turning the article of clothing around with a watchful gaze and rubbing it between his fingertips to feel the texture.

-lacy or simple? noted. silky or cotton? he’ll keep it in mind. dark or pastel? he’ll make sure to keep an eye out for something similar. he wants to know every aspect of your character, and this serves as the perfect chance. “How cute..” he’d muse.

-doesn’t judge whatsoever. after all, they belong to you, that by itself is a blessing. that being said, he doesn’t exactly have a need for them as he much prefers the thing that wears them. he prides himself on his self-control. you could not catch him acting like a hormonal teen.

-at the most, he’ll give them a tiny sniff, brushing his lips against them and flick the tip of his tongue out just to give himself the daily dose of your smell and taste, smiling to himself as he intakes the scent and flavor. but don’t worry, he puts them right back where he found them without ever telling a soul. <3

SEONG GI-HUN/PLAYER 456 (S1)

-his mind goes blank. does this make him a perv? well, probably. does he really care? somewhat. he wouldn’t have much of an explanation if someone walked in on him at that moment.

-just stares as he ponders what to do with them. he could put them down, pretend it never happened—it’s not like he had any bad intentions.. but an opportunity like this doesn’t come around often. and it’s been years since he had anything to properly give him a release.

-kind of has an inner battle over whether or not it’s worth actually being a dirty old man for relief or being a respectable one and giving up on this opening. yet of course.. he’s only human. and he just wants you so much :( !!

-pretty much uses your panties to muffle himself, sniffing at it like a dog whilst rutting slowly into a pillow. of course, the thin undergarments could only do so much in the face of his needy little sounds <3

-panting heavily, letting out grunts as he squeezes his eyes shut. “Please.. Please..” his face almost looks pained with a slack jaw and furrowed brow, hands grasping at the pillow beneath him to try and ground himself. (it doesn’t work, because he quickly begins to pick up the pace.)

-gasps when he finally climaxes, burying his face even deeper into your underwear to the point he might suffocate himself all while shooting out his seed over his pillow. feels pretty disgusted in himself and guilty after he comes down from his high, pouting a little at the mess he made. still, he can’t deny how blissful it felt. it was almost like you were right there with him…. </3

-keeps your panties. yeah, hopefully those weren’t your favorite pair—because they’re his now. he’ll return them at some point, but until then, if you ever exasperatedly tell him about the loss, gi-hun will keep his mouth shut and play the oblivious. >.<

THANOS/CHOI SU-BONG/PLAYER 230

-he looks like an immature highschool boy with the way he marvels at your panties, as if he hasn’t been in previous sexual flings and one-night stands where he has most likely witnessed all kinds of undergarments. and yanked them off…

-i guess the only reason why he’s so fascinated is because they’re yours. no way in hell you’d ever willingly give a pair to him—did you really think he wasn’t going to savor every moment of this? this is heaven served on a silver platter.

-it starts off as a joke for thanos, stretching the elastic waistband in various degrees and angles while giggling. maybe even uses them as a slingshot. he never imagined that he’d find himself in a position like this, you know? this is the type of shit you’d see in crappy rom-coms.

-all that runs through his head is something along the lines of “Hell yeah.. Nice.” UNTIL it finally occurs to him that, holy shit. he’s actually got your panties in his possession. the way he looks around to see if anyone’s by (despite obviously being alone) is damn well near cartoonish.

-wastes no time in lowering his pants to his knees, biting his bottom lip as he wraps a hand around his cock. he’s hard almost instantly, the thrill of doing something so filthy behind your back making his dick twitch and expel tiny drops of pre-cum.

-“Oh, fuuuck.. Mhm..” his words are shaky and border on a breathy chuckle, pumping his dick while raising his other hand to his face. takes sporadic sniffs of your panties, bunching them up in his palm whenever a particular stroke really made his hips buck.

-His head will roll back, his motions lazy and unhurried while he kicks and spreads his legs out. his voice is husky as he grunts out incoherent curses, gradually speeding his hand up before he eventually shoots out warm ropes of cum, letting the strands coat his fingers in short spurts.

-“Mannn...” he’d grumble, quite miffed by the fact that he was gonna have to clean up when the flow stopped. but he immediately cheers up, seeing that your panties were free from the spill. that meant he wasn’t gonna have to discard them just yet!!

-also keeps your panties and acts like he doesn’t know anything if they’re ever brought up in a conversation. he thinks of them as his personal lucky charm, which of course he won’t give up until he actually has to. but at that point, he’ll just try to get his hands on another pair and so on.. silly little addict :3c

KANG DAE-HO/PLAYER 388

-having been the youngest brother of 4 sisters, its safe to assume that he’s probably had similar occasions whilst doing laundry. bras, panties, he’s most likely handled them at least once throughout his life while being surrounded by women.

-thats not to say he doesn’t still get a little bit shy, even as an adult. its mostly out of respect more than it is embarrassment. he understands that underwear is meant to cover women’s privates, he’s been taught not to view them in a sexual light. but that’s because it came to family. there, underwear was just that—articles of clothing to literally wear under.

-this is a much different situation: being accidentally exposed to the type of undergarments his crush puts on. with the way he fumbles with your panties, you’d think they were sizzling hot and causing burns. poor dae-ho doesn’t know what to do !!

-especially not when his pants feel a little tighter than usual. his free hand will shoot down, try to adjust the tent forming with a tiny frown on his face. “Don’t be gross, Dae-ho. Cmon..” he’ll scold himself in a hushed whisper, but his body clearly having other plans.

-he’ll start to panic, desperately trying to make his boner die down. he swears he isn’t a perv, honest! he just can’t help but think about how good you’d look teasing him in them, rubbing your clothed pussy against his dick…!

-yeah, he’s got it bad. the imagery would make his dick stir that much more, practically throbbing as he hesitantly sneaks a hand beneath the waistband of his pants. “Shit, I’m so sorry—” he’d gasp out an apology followed by your name, his warm palm finally coming in contact with his aching cock, wrapping his fingers around the base.

-dae-ho’s eyes would flutter, his adam’s apple bobbing as he’d begin to jerk off at a moderate pace to the thought of you, wanton moans falling from his parted lips. he would swipe the pad of his thumb over his leaking tip, the motion causing a high pitched mixture of a whine and grunt. “Oh, god..”

-can’t help but to give your panties little licks, the taste of your cunt making his hips buck into his hand. the overwhelming feeling of his orgasm creeping up accompanied by a tugging guilt began to form tears in his eyes, nothing ever actually escaping yet threatening to.

-his back arches when he cums, thighs trembling as his digits tighten around your underwear, holding the pair close to his chest as he groans. “Yes! Oh, please, I love you—” his voice would tremble, practically breaking off into a small cry. his warm cum coats his hand, the latter continuing to give weak strokes until he’s unable to produce anymore.

-the moment he regains his composure and he realizes what he just did, he’ll be so disappointed in himself :( washes his hands with soap like 4 times, as if it’ll get rid of his dirty little misdeed. gosh he feels so pathetic…

-tells NO ONE about the endeavor, and leaves your panties where he found them. he’s going to have a lot to think about. (◞‸◟)

NAM-GYU/PLAYER 124

-one word: shameless.

-for some reason, nam-gyu just won’t fess up to the fact that he probably does genuinely have a crush on you. that’s absurd, he doesn’t do that kiddie shit! so, instead he’s making it his duty to find every possible way of throwing you off. because it’s funny. and what better chance does he have than right now?

-so what if this makes him a creep? hopefully you’ll take it as a sign to stay the hell away from him after this. (he says, anyway. a part of him actually hopes you’ll enjoy what he’s about to do and come back for more… he’s just,, strange like that.) he doesn’t think twice about taking his cock out from his boxers.

-the only one to actually USE your panties to jerk himself off. he tells himself he’s doing it out of spite, furiously pumping his veiny dick as he bites into the hem of his shirt, exposing his stomach that jumped with the contrasting nip of the cool air on his warm skin.

-“Stupid bitch. See how you fucking like it,” he’d growl, pausing a few times to frustratedly tuck strands of hair behind his ear whenever they’d get in his face. has no problem being loud, letting out groan after groan with every intention of getting caught. walk in on him, why don’t you? see how pissed off you make him feel. how fucking pent up he is for you.

-“Gonna cum all over your face,” nam-gyu’s threats would flow with no particular party on the receiving end. only the thought of you on your knees tending to him. doesn’t care that he probably looks like a lunatic while guiltlessly talking dirty, his balls drawing up at his own filthy-natured words.

-saliva would begin to seep into his shirt’s hem, his pace unrelenting as he fists his cock into your underwear, his other hand curling and uncurling whenever his pleasure spiked. he’ll swallow thickly as the knot in his lower stomach begins to form, squirming slightly in his spot in a visible attempt to chase his climax.

-he’ll align the inner crotch area perfectly along his length, his head tossing back as he finally lets go, your panties easily catching the globs of semen that shot out. “Fuck yeah.. Take it, take my cum.” he’d grunt, eyebrows furrowing while sinking his teeth deeper into his top.

-breathes heavily upon seeing the stick and foggy white liquid cause an evident dark patch on your panties. with a self-accomplished smirk, he’ll tuck himself back into his pants, releasing his shirt from his mouth as he pinches the waistband of your cum-soaked panties with the tip of his index and thumb, keeping it a distance away from him. he has just the thing for you.

-nam-gyu will actively seek you out, bringing along the end result of his.. work. once he finds you, he’ll toss it right at you, not caring if you were in catching-range or not.

-“Just a little something from me to you. Enjoy the gift, yeah?” he’d give you one of his sly smiles, eyes twinkling with the typical hint of mischief before walking off without even waiting for a reply or reaction.

-well, at least you got your panties back, right? <3

[chrome-barkz-aac]

i made this instagram post !!! there isn't as big of a community of AAC users on instagram so I thought I would share this on my instagram (@cytochromesea).

EDIT: i got an ask that states that not everyone knows what AAC is which is an oversight on my part, it stands for alternative and augmentative communication!

Image ID:

A light blue background with a rainbow and a cloud and some stars. There is a blue border collie with wings holding an aac tablet that says I love you! Text reads: AAC etiquette. Do’s, Don’ts, and other stuff. By cytochrome sea.

The same background appears in every following slide. Text reads:

AAC is my voice! It is not a toy or accessory

Don’t touch my AAC without my permission

Don’t take my AAC away from me, for any reason (joke, punishment, etc)

Don’t press buttons randomly or flip through my communication cards without permission

How would you like it if I randomly poked you on the mouth and throat (or on your hands if you sign)? It would be unpleasant, so don’t do that to me

Some AAC users can speak sometimes. It is not your business why someone can or cannot talk

Don’t ask questions about why an AAC user cannot speak. 

Do let us communicate however is best for us in that moment

Don’t ask us if or when we will be able to speak verbally. It’s not your business 

Do not value verbal speech more highly than AAC. Any communication is good communication

Some of us never talk, either, and that’s ok! Those of us who can talk sometimes are not better than those of us who can’t. None of us owe you an explanation for our use of AAC.

Don’t look at my screen until I show you. It feels really invasive!

It feels like when someone is looking at your phone screen over your shoulder, so please don’t do this

This applies to low tech AAC as well, don’t look at someone’s cards or letter board until they show you

You have the dignity of forming your thoughts in your head before you say them, whereas my thoughts are all on display. Please afford me the same dignity that you get automatically.

Don’t shame someone for not being able to speak verbally. It makes us feel horrible

We are real people with thoughts and feelings. Please treat us with kindness. 

We are trying our best

Don’t shame someone if their device mispronounces a word. It’s quite literally out of our control.

Other Don’ts. Don’t

Don't Treat an AAC user as childish or stupid for not being able to speak. Our ability to speak does not define our worth

Don't Show frustration at the way someone communicates

Don't Make comments about how fast or slow we communicate

Also don’t…

don't Act surprised when we swear or talk about adult topics like sex, drugs, or violence. We are not pure uwu precious smol beans, we are normal fucking people

don't Assume what is “wrong” with us. There are about a hundred reasons for someone to use AAC and you probably aren’t the expert in any of them.

“OK, so what CAN i do?” im glad you asked! When interacting with an AAC user, DO…

Ask us how we prefer to communicate and support us as you are able

Assume that we are competent

Talk to us with the same respect, tone and vocabulary that you would for any one else

Give us money (this one is a joke)

Understand that AAC grammar isn’t perfect and we are doing our best

Is it rude if…

I can’t understand your device? Not rude! Misunderstandings happen all the time in any conversation, just be patient as you would normally. 

I want to complement your AAC? Not rude!

I ask to see your AAC and understand how it works? This isn’t rude if you are already talking about AAC, but don’t ask random strangers this. They don’t owe you an AAC tour. 

Thank you for listening! This post is for the community! If you are an AAC user, let me know if I missed something in the comments and I will pin it! I hope you are filled with peace and love and I hope something good happens to you today! End ID. 

[xenteaart]

the hard way

pairing: vampire!chris x to be vampire!reader genre/warnings: dark romance, mean chris, angst? kinda dead dove, mentions of death, blood and a lil gore (not too graphic tho imo), it's okay in the end??? and they're in love plot: reader is getting turned into a vampire and it's not as cool as she imagined author’s note: obvsly heavily inspired by railway and that SPITTING SCENE. idk it's prolly gonna flop but i wanted to picture that process and a not so hot side of it

“no.” “why not?!” “because i told you so a million times already. we’re not discussing this.” chris spits out and furrows, growing more agitated with each passing second.

“what, you don’t want me to be equal to you?” you ponder desperately while your mind searches for any, any reason at all as to why chris won’t turn you. it’s been getting to you for the last couple of months, and you’re sure you’ve gone through every possible explanation your troubled brain could come up with: he doesn’t love you. he doesn’t wanna spend eternity with you. or maybe it’s a power thing. or, or, or...? this endless cycle of worry and uncertainty has been keeping you on edge for way too long to think clearly now. “gosh, it has nothing to do with equality,” he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “what is it then?” “drop it.” you snap. “we’ll have to find out the hard way, then.”

you grab the nearest kitchen knife, and it turns out to be the one you use for cutting meat, a chef’s knife as they call it. how fitting. chris barely has enough time to catch up with your madness infused impulse, and when he turns his gaze back to you, the knife is already deep in your guts.

you thought it was gonna be romantic or somewhat dramatic at least. something from the movies where he sinks his vampire teeth into your neck, and just like magic — your eyes flash bright red, announcing the beginning of a new life.

“you dumb bitch,” he exhales shakily and somehow manages to catch you in time because the sharp pain in your stomach makes you lose your balance instantly. you’re still bitter and angry in the heat of the argument and you expect him to be the same way, but when you glance up, chris looks nothing but panicked. “that’s a new look on him,” you think, and it confuses you.

chris growls and sinks to his knees, carefully holding you and trying to move as fast as possible. what you don’t know is that turning can only be done in around thirty seconds since fatal injury. that might explain the rushing and chris’s pure bambi eyes panic but your consciousness is already starting to drift away to hold onto that train of thought.

chris bites into his wrist with unmasked fury, tearing and ripping his own veins even though using a knife would have been much cleaner. probably less painful, too. “swallow. now! come on, don’t you fall asleep on me now, focus!” he grabs your face and presses hard on the jaw joints, making you open your mouth like a puppet doll.

the sickly metallic taste of your own blood at the back of your throat from the internal bleeding mixes up with chris’s thick blood that he generously spits into your mouth, and you want to throw up. your head feels dizzy as your eyelids are getting heavier, your hearing suddenly fails completely as if someone turned the volume down from ten to zero. limbs are falling weak, and the pins and needles in them are so, so far from pleasant.

the thing about turning is... you actually have to die first. be fully, completely gone to be able to come back changed and corrupted, turned to the extent of your DNA having been violently rewritten. that you did not think through enough. the muscles in your throat contract almost on reflex, swallowing and gagging on the gooey salty substance, making your chest heave while coughing strangles you further. the tingles and nausea are so overwhelming and all consuming you actually catch yourself thinking dying would be a relief now. and then it follows as you wished.

you doze off for god knows how long but, by the looks of it, it can’t have been more than a few minutes because as you regain consciousness, chris is still looming over you, his own blood fresh on his lips. he’s blurry, though, everything is.

“come on, suck on me. c’mon, baby, there we go,” he coos as he brings his wrist to your lips, forcefully pressing it into your mouth and leaving you with little to no choice. the phrasing, unlike usual, doesn’t sound dirty or hot now, more like a life-saving command while you’re still so out it. it feels good, though, chris’s blood.

it doesn’t taste so metallic and gross anymore, and the texture feels almost soothing on your dry throat, like hot honey milk on a friday evening. suck, gulp, suck, gulp, suck, it almost lulls you back into serenity, some primal instinct of being attached to your only life line, finding comfort in someone’s warmth and touch and taste.

you wonder how much you’ve drunk already and whether chris will have anything left but you’re so, so thirsty you can’t even bring yourself to care.

what finally makes you stop is the sudden sharp ache in your gums. it feels so piercing the aftershocks are almost reaching your brain and eye sockets, and as you feel your old teeth fall out, a pair of longer fangs cuts through and settles into the upper teeth row. hot tears are stinging your eyes and you whine like a wounded deer, still unable to speak properly. it’s all too much, and you start to regret what you’ve done, and maybe, just maybe that’s why chris so passionately refused to put you through it. this kind of hunger and the animalistic, blood thirst driven rage were never something he wanted to inflict upon you.

your entire body is shaking but it’s not really a fearful tremor, more like restlessness, a new sort of “itch” somewhere deep, deep inside that you’ve never experienced before, the feeling so intense and soul wrenching you simply can’t disobey it. it makes you want to jump up and run.

“don’t worry, i’ll teach you how to handle it.” chris cups your face after taking off his leather gloves so you can feel the comfort of his actual skin. the touch is calming, but barely enough compared to that growing desire and need to satisfy the itch. “you stupid crazy cunt, why do you never listen,” he whispers into your forehead, his lips lightly brushing over your cold sweat covered skin, as he holds you closer, squeezing you against his chest in a protective manner, though the real danger to yourself is now planted within you.

[allpiesforourown]

Superstar Luo Binghe au. All the directors beg him to be in their movies because his fame will immediately assure success for anything they make. He’s handsome, charming, dedicated, and most of all, extremely talented. He even does his own stunts!! Women love him, and men who say they hate him will still watch his movies so they can figure out how to be more like him. 

The only weird thing about Binghe as an actor is that he refuses to star in romantic films. He won’t kiss anyone, won’t pretend to date someone on screen, won’t even let another actor take over his role for the scenes he doesn’t want to do. His reason? He’s completely loyal to his husband.

Everyone thinks it’s stupid, obviously. You aren’t “cheating” by pretending to love someone else, it’s literally your job! Luo Binghe still refuses and says even he’s not good enough an actor to make anyone believe he could ever love someone other than Yuan-ge.

His fans hate this mysterious Yuan-ge. Because of his (probably insecure and jealous) spouse, all of Binghe’s fangirls cant see him sweep some y/n character off their feet. It’s even worse because they don’t know anything about this guy. Whenever someone asks to see or learn about Binghe’s husband, the star says he’ll never reveal Yuan-ge to the public, because he’s too beautiful and he doesn’t want everyone falling in love with him. 

People kind of run with the idea that obviously this guy must be a total weirdo who Binghe is embarrassed to be seen with. That has to be the explanation, because no matter how perfect someone is, how can they have such a chokehold on THE LUO BINGHE??

Then, one day, years after Luo Binghe’s initial rise to fame…. He goes on a talkshow. With his husband Shen Yuan. 

Obviously EVERYONE tunes in. No one uses TVs anymore bc of the internet, but just for this show, viewer ratings are the highest theyve ever been. Everyone wants to know what the fuss is all about with this guy to have Luo Binghe so down horrible. 

And Shen Yuan isn’t a weirdo. He’s also not some pretty yesman. He makes jokes that make the audience burst into laughter. He’s opinionated, which is really refreshing when every other celebrity stays neutral on every topic to avoid losing fans. He’s polite, but he’s not a pushover. He’s likeable, but he’s not a try-hard about it. Referencing memes makes him an instant hit with the younger generations, and the calm gentle way he talks makes him a hit with the older ones. All of a sudden everyone is going, okay we see why Luo Binghe is obsessed with him. 

Except… while shen yuan was making jokes and charming everyone, Luo Binghe was at his side, pathetically pawing at his husband for attention. The actor keeps whining every two minutes to be reassured yuan-ge still likes him. Whenever Shen Yuan compliments the host, Binghe looks like he’s about to cry. Whenever Luo Binghe jealously wraps his arms around shen Yuan everyone watching just rolls their eyes. Seeing them together people realize… shen yuan is the one that’s out of Luo Binghe’s league.

In just one hour public opinion goes from ‘no one can be worth binghe acting like that for’ to ‘luo binghe is so annoying, let shen yuan talk!!’ 

The next day someone finds shen yuan’s twitter and it blows up. He has his own fan pages now. There’s no pictures of him online other than the footage from the talkshow, so the fan accounts just post that over and over again. Shen yuan retweets a post about him with the caption “i never realized she was holding a plate of corn in this scene” and everyone loses their mind. Everything he says immediately goes viral bc that’s luo binghe’s attic wife.

People start nagging Binghe to post about Shen Yuan bc theyre so attached after his one and only publicized appearance. Binghe is super possessive, but yuan-ge tells him not to worry, so he relents and posts pictures of him and shen yuan on vacation. They’re together, holding hands… but shen yuan’s face and body are blurred out. It’s HORRIFYING. He looks like an eldritch monster bc luo binghe refuses to let anyone look at his yuan-ge in a swim suit, go away you perverts!! His instragram is now just full of pics of shen yuan where his eyes are blacked out so noone else can see how pretty they are. It’s nightmare fuel

Shen Yuan is unfortunately too unbothered to post pictures of himself. Everyone’s tired of Luo Binghe for “hogging shen yuan all to himself” when Shen Yuan is practically an internet celebrity now. 

People go to watch movies and their theatre conversations sound like this:

“Oh, Luo Binghe’s in this one!”

“Who?”

“You know Shen Yuan’s annoying husband?”

“OH THAT GUY..”

[sistertotheknowitall]

Danny is Some Guy with a not so secret admirer.

Part four? Post #four? I don’t know, none of these are exactly in order. Post one, post two, post three.

——

By the time Tim opened the door, Danny had his coffee made and handed to Mia at the register. He resolutely ignored her smug face and went back to making the other orders.

Tim had been a regular long before Danny had started at the coffee shop but it was three days into Danny’s third week when Tim had stumbled in at eight a.m. and did a double take upon seeing Danny. A very obvious double take followed by intense staring before Mia had cleared her throat. The blush that lit up Tim’s face was only rivaled by the one on Danny’s.

He had never had anyone openly stare at him before.

Mia had been insufferable ever since.

It also didn’t help that shortly after their first meeting Tim had started taking his breaks at the little coffee shop. It’s been three weeks, nearly a month and Wayne Enterprise’s CEO went from a bi-weekly regular to an everyday one. (Danny wondered if he should be concerned for the man’s caffeine intake but he only had the one cup every time so probably not.)

Originally, Danny had no plans to talk to Tim. It seemed obvious the guy had a crush on Danny if the constant looks over his laptop were anything to go by and Danny didn’t want to encourage it. Danny barely had time to make new friends let alone start a relationship.

There was also the added problem of what was quickly becoming his bat stalkers. How do you explain to someone that you were being watched by Gotham’s vigilante’s for no reason? (Or worse because he had made a poorly timed sleep-deprived comment.) Danny didn’t think you could without seeming suspicious.

Incidentally though, Danny’s plan went out the window when on a slow afternoon as he was cleaning tables and passed behind Tim. Once he saw the article the other man was reading he snorted.

Bruce Wayne and The Batman? Could This Be A New Romance For Gothams Most Beloved Billionaire?

It was one of those gossip rags that printed things like: Elvis: alive and well and Superman: a mild mannered farm boy? It was all nonsense.

Danny asked Tim why he bothered with the site and Tim responded that he found it amusing to read and that his family had a group chat where they sent the articles to each other.

“Okay. But Batman? Really? Your dad could do so much better.”

“You don’t like Batman?” Tim asked. Danny had slid into the chair next to him and shrugged. “I respect what he does but for as intimidating as he is, he also seems a little silly.”

Tim had given him an incredulous look and Danny hadn’t given him time to ask for an explanation, “and his kids can be just as rude. Like that flying monkey one.” Tim choked on air and Danny politely waited for him to calm down. “Kids? Wait - flying monkey one? Which one -?”

“The one always doing back flips with the blue bird symbol. He’s also a dick that gives hypocritical lectures about fighting.” Danny wouldn’t say he hated the guy but he wasn’t sure how many more lectures he could endure before going ghost and fighting him.

Tim had turned to Danny completely and was watching him with a look of disbelief, “you mean Nightwing?”

“Is that his name? Imma call him Dickwing.”

Tim had started choking again, this time Danny patted his back hoping to help. Yet it was all for not once he kept talking, “I think I’ve only had positive interactions with the one who looks like a walking red flag.”

“Red flag? Do you men hood-?”

“No, although he is definitely a red flag, I mean the other Red one. I’m sorry, I don’t know all these peoples names yet.”

“Danny!” Mia called.

Danny stood and patted Tim, who looked a little shell-shocked, on the shoulder. “Well work calls, see you later Mr. Drake-Wayne.” As he walked away he heard Tim mutter “it’s just Tim.”

(Tim for his part, placed his head in his hands and thought, well at least I have his name now.)

After that first interaction Tim stopped playing the lurker and started to actually talk to Danny and vise versa. Danny never asked if he still had a crush on him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Unfortunately, their growing friendship had only encoraged Mia as she happily sang “your boyfriend’s here!”

Danny, very maturely, did not stick his tongue out at her. He did however flip her off under the counter like an adult.

[sleepyhoon]

i see you (always, forever). - l.hs

synopsis. following your ex boyfriend’s sudden disappearance, lee heeseung seemingly enters your life at the perfect time.

pairing. stalker bf!heeseung x fem reader

genre. dark romance, smut, light humor.

word count. 6.1k+

warnings. swearing, obsessive behavior, stalking, brief mention of drink spiking (doesn’t actually happen), mention of alcohol consumption, person held in captivity, mention of past infidelity, extremely brief mention of childbirth, smut [ consensual somno, oral (fem receiving), p in v, sex toy usage ]. this fic contains dark content and is not at all how i view these idols. minors and ageless blogs dni. 18+ content read at your own discretion.

featuring. hwang yeji & shin ryujin (itzy)

a/n. happy valentine’s day babies!! wanted to do something cute and light but i fear it just wasn’t working out … so this right here is for my dark romance girlies hehe enjoy! drew inspo from the television show “you”! shoutout to bae @yangkkomi for beta reading

Lee Heeseung has the worst case of separation anxiety when it comes to you.

The mere thought of being away from you for too long is enough to send him into a spiral, and you barely even realize the effect you had on him. His naturally clingy nature raised no concerns to you; in fact, you relish in his borderline unhealthy infatuation with you — seeing as your previous boyfriend of ten months disappeared on a random Tuesday afternoon, leaving nothing behind but a note claiming he needed to start a new life.

The week of Park Jongseong’s sudden disappearance was agonizing. Yes, he assured everyone he was okay and simply was moving onto a new chapter in his life, and that no one drove him to make such a rash decision, but something about the situation didn’t sit well with you.

Jongseong wasn’t impulsive in the slightest, and you would argue he was one of, if not the most, mature, level headed men you’ve dated. He was distant at times which often felt unsettling, but had his reasonings and assured you he couldn’t have been happier in the relationship. That was one of your favorite things about Jongseong, how he always knew just what to say to calm your nerves, and how he always had a rational explanation for everything.

Running away so suddenly was out of character for him, and a part of you feared that, despite the note left behind, there was something malicious going on that led to his disappearance.

Your older sister, Yeji, had just given birth and was in the midst of planning her wedding, while your parents deemed themselves as “too busy to deal with your issues”, leaving you to become a shell of yourself without having anyone to confide in. Days turned into weeks of you locking yourself in your apartment, typing your ex boyfriend’s name into the search bar over and over, hoping something new would pop up; but nothing ever did.

After a long, tiring day of Zoom meetings and doing more research on Jongseong, your eyes had begun to flutter shut when a knock on your front door wakes you. Expecting it to be your Doordash driver dropping off a greasy, million calorie cheeseburger and a can of soda, you yell out to leave it at the front door. The knocking persisted, and with a sigh, you dragged your feet all the way to the front door, certainly shocked at the man that stood before you.

You don’t even give him the chance to explain himself before you’re asking, “Why do you look familiar?”

He grins at you, absentmindedly drumming his fingers against the cardboard box in his hands. “Unless you’re a book lover we probably don’t know each other; I’m a manager of a bookstore downtown, I’m there all the time.”

“Is it… Brookhaven? You guys have K-pop albums too, right?”

“Book-haven,” he corrects you with a polite nod, “and, yeah, we have albums. Have you been to the shop?”

“A few times.” You mumble, suddenly feeling very self conscious of your outfit choice. With the option to have your camera off during the Zoom meetings, you felt no desire to get dressed for the day, opting to work in your oversized sweatshirt and sleep shorts. 

The unnamed man wore casual clothing — a grey North Face jacket atop a black t-shirt and white cargos — yet, you felt completely underdressed in comparison to him. His gaze was piercing yet gentle, like he carried a certain confidence about himself in a way that didn’t come off as cocky or arrogant. Though, you really couldn’t blame him if he were the conceited type; he was definitely an attractive man.

The silver chain on his neck had been paired perfectly with matching earrings, including a silver hoop on his helix. His hair, though likely not his natural color, suited him perfectly; the subtle curls and waves giving him a classic, boyish look with bangs that fell just beneath his eyebrows.

You clear your throat, gesturing towards the package in his hands, “Are you dropping this off?”

“Yes! Uh, FedEx dropped off some packages at my store yesterday and it looks like this must’ve gotten mixed in,” he explains, extending the package towards you, “I tried calling the number on the label yesterday but no one answered, so I’m just swinging by to drop it off.”

You accept the package, rolling your eyes at the mixup. “FedEx is always doing bullshit.”

He lets out a dry chuckle, “Trust, I’m fully aware. The driver for our block is this old-ass man; I once caught him asleep in his truck.”

You laugh a little too loud at this, inwardly cringing at yourself afterwards as you tuck the package beneath your arm. “Well, thanks for bringing my package…?” You trail off, hoping he’ll complete your sentence by offering you his name.

“Heeseung, Lee Heeseung.”

“Thank you, Heeseung, Lee Heeseung.” You repeat, earning a grin from him.

“No worries,” he responds, fishing something out of his pocket, “and feel free to stop by the store sometime, especially now that you have a coupon.” He says, offering you the small slip of paper from his pocket.

You accept it, eyes widening at the “BOGO FREE KPOP ALBUM” staring back at you. “I…is this real? You really don’t have to.”

Heeseung shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, “It’s no big deal, I keep coupons on me to hand out, anyway. Plus, we’re trying to make room for more stock.” He says, slowly walking backwards down the hall as he inches away from your door. Like a magnet, your body automatically angles towards him, hoping he’ll say something else.

“You’ll just have to request a manager when you’re ready to use it, regular associates can’t process certain coupons under their employee number.”

You nod, free-hand gripping the doorframe as your eyes follow Heeseung, “What days do you work?”

He shrugs again, “Doesn’t have to be me, I have two assistant managers that are there pretty often.”

“Right, but, when are you there?”

He pauses, titling his head at you before responding, “Monday through Friday, eleven-to-eight. Sometimes I stop by once or twice on the weekends to check in.”

“Will you be there tomorrow?”

“All day, eleven-to-eight.”

The following morning, you had the sudden urge to buy a K-pop album and get another one for free.

Heeseung had spent a good portion of that morning conversing with you from behind the counter, listening intently when you got on the topic of your previous boyfriend’s disappearance. It’s still a touchy subject for you, and probably not the best thing to talk about while getting to know a guy you’re interested in, but Heeseung’s question on how “such a pretty girl” like you was single required a truthful answer. Initially, you feared your response of “my boyfriend went missing” would be enough to scare him off, but Heeseung didn’t seem phased in the slightest.

In fact, in the two-and-a-half months you’d been dating Heeseung there was almost nothing you could say or do that would phase him to the point of genuine concern. Not how it took an insane amount of motivation for you in order to clean your apartment (he was fine cleaning it himself), or how often you’d forget to take your very much needed medication (he was more than happy to remind you every morning and night, and even went as far as requesting a refill when the bottle was nearly empty and picking it up for you). Catering to your every need was just another simple task for him, and you’re more than grateful that the universe seemingly dropped him right in your lap when you needed it most.

Heeseung was patient, understanding, and was absolutely devoted to your relationship. In his eyes, you deserved nothing but the best, and was keen on making sure to provide for you. 

Cooking for you was probably his favorite task. He wasn’t the best at it per se, but improved with every attempt, and you seemed to enjoy his meals despite them not being to his liking.

He’d woken up early this morning to prepare a Valentine’s day breakfast for you, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead as he slipped out of bed and into your kitchen. The original plan was to go all out and cook a ridiculous breakfast feast he’d seen on TikTok that featured cinnamon rolls, sausage, and fluffy pancakes.

He burnt the first batch of cinnamon rolls and decided it best to simplify your feast down to eggs, bacon, and french toast sticks. Slightly disappointed that his original plan didn’t work out, your boyfriend sighs at himself as he pours a glass of cranberry juice before setting it on a wooden tray table. How he made it to your bedroom without dropping everything was beyond him, considering how he was still weak from sleep and could hardly keep his eyes open.

Heeseung pushed the door open with his foot, peeking his head in slightly and furrowing his brows at your sleeping figure. If not from the noise of clattering dishes, he was almost certain the smell of food would be enough to wake you up. He knew you were a heavy sleeper, but never realized how heavy.

“How are you still asleep?” He mumbles to himself with a sigh, setting the tray of food on your desk before retreating to your bed. He digs his knee into the edge of the  mattress, gently shaking your leg in an attempt to wake you. You don’t budge, your slumber remaining unaffected as the sounds of your light snoring continue to fill the room. His fingers trail down your leg until they reach the sole of your foot, his fingernails softly tickling the sensitive area until you’re jerking your leg away in discomfort.

“Weirdo.” You say through a yawn, angling your body until you’re laying on your side.

Heeseung rolls his eyes at your insult, grabbing ahold of your leg as he responds, “A true weirdo would’ve put their mouth on it, you’re lucky it’s just me. Now get up, I made breakfast.”

Waking you up was no easy task, whether it was seven in the morning or half past noon. Heeseung suspects you’re still recovering from sleep debt after all the nights you’d spent lying awake researching Jongseong’s disappearance. The nights you could sleep didn’t typically didn’t last long; it’d either take hours until you finally drifted off, or you’d wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare; leaving you unable to go back to sleep.

Your sleep schedule hadn’t gotten back on track until you met Heeseung, who made sure you were taking melatonin, iron pills, and just about anything that would help you sleep soundly and feel less tired during the day. And while the extra supplements may be working, there was still a lot of sleep debt you were recovering from; an almost concerning amount that made it difficult for you to get up most days.

You groan into your pillow when the smell of Heeseung’s freshly made breakfast hits your nose, your mouth nearly salivating from the scent alone. As much as you wanted to sit up and start eating, your limbs were still heavy with exhaustion. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be up,” you plead, “I promise.”

Heeseung shakes his head. “Y/N,” he whines, “just get up, I wanna spend time with you before work. You can go back to sleep after I leave.”

Today was the release day of author, Shin Ryujin’s, newest sapphic romance novel that Heeseung could not remember the title of; just that it featured a lot of smut, has over twenty-four chapters, and was highly anticipated. Her team had reached out to Bookhaven not too long ago, inquiring about hosting a Q+A session and book signing event on the day of its release. Initially, Heeseung had planned to reject the offer since it fell on Valentine’s day and that type of event required his presence, and he’d originally planned on spending the entire day with you. The payout of said event, however, was more than enough to get him on board.

He’d be leaving the shop and heading over to you around five, and have Sunoo or Jungwon close up, leaving him with just seven hours with you that he’d planned to make the most of. All he needed now was for you to wake the hell up before he has to leave.

You still don’t budge, mumbling something incoherent before the snores resume and you’ve drifted back to sleep.

“Babe,” he says flatly, shaking your leg. “Y/N. Baby. Dude, get up.”

Still nothing, and Heeseung’s on the verge of kissing your forehead and calling it a day, but there is one thing that could get you up.

Slowly, he peels the thick comforter off of your body, relishing in the fact that you chose to sleep in one of his shirts. Allowing himself further onto the mattress, Heeseung’s hand reahes for the hem of your shirt, pushing it up just enough to reveal your lavender colored panties. He pauses, glancing up at you momentarily before lowering his head and nestling it between your thighs.

He starts off slow, placing a light kiss on your inner thigh before trailing his lips upwards. Pausing right at your hip bone, Heeseung’s fingertips move to the core of your underwear, lightly scratching at your cunt through the soft material. Frustrated, he whines your name once more before slowly trailing your panties down and off your legs, discarding of them on the other side of the mattress.

Fingernails digging into your flesh, he grips your thighs as he repositions himself at eye level with your cunt, inching forward slowly until he’s pressing his lips right against yours. It’s gentle at first, much like how he’d kiss you any other time, a few gentle pecks until he was desperate for more.

Heeseung tilts his head slightly, and finally has his tongue fall flat against your entrance. The groan that escapes his mouth from the contact comes from deep in his chest, his fingernails leaving crescent-shaped indents on your thighs from how hard he’s gripping them.

He licks a long, slow strip along your cunt upwards towards your clit, licking and sucking at the bud as if savoring the feeling of your taste on his tongue. He repeats his movements a few more times, growing desperate as the seconds pass by, each moan and whine from him becoming more desperate and whiny than the last. You shift around slightly, furrowing your brows a bit, but still not fully awake.

Another minute passes by and you’re still asleep. Your body automatically responding to Heeseung’s touches, but they’re still not enough to wake you. He’s not bored in the slightest, though, and would argue that he could probably go on for hours if that’s what it took; but he has to leave soon, and needs you awake as soon as possible.

With a sigh, he kisses your thigh once before twisting his body and reaching over to your nightstand, opening the bottom drawer and digging around slightly until his fingers brush against the rubber vibrator he’d been searching for. It’s an air pulsing one you’d bought before you’d met Heeseung, and when he’d discovered it in your room for the first time, he’d insisted on implementing it into your sex lives as much as possible.

He turns it on, choosing to keep it on the first setting before pressing it directly on your clit. A sharp gasp escapes your lips at the contact, with Heeseung keeping his gaze fixed on your face. Gently massaging the toy against your cunt, your eyes slowly began to flutter open, a loud moan echoing through the room as Heeseung turned the toy up to a medium setting.

You grab a fistful of Heeseung’s hair, yanking him forward until his mouth is on your cunt again. The sudden roughness takes him by surprise, but he doesn’t seem to mind it in the slightest; in fact, he can feel himself stiffening in his boxers from you gripping his hair alone.

Moaning into your cunt, Heeseung does his best to keep the vibrator pressed against you while he eats you out. His desperation was astonishing, his moans nearly being as loud and whiny as yours as he continued.

When you’re finally close, which doesn’t take very long; Heeseung discards the vibrator completely; mindlessly tossing it on the floor to lap at your cunt with his tongue. He presses it flat against you, dragging your wetness up to your clit before sucking the swollen bud between his lips.

You orgasm almost instantly at that, trapping Heeseung's head between your thighs as you come on his face with your back arching off the bed and swears pouring from your lips.

You’re panting as you come down from your high, breath rigged as you drape your arm against your forehead, “Wow.”

“You okay?” Heeseung asks, voice muffled as you finally release his head was still trapped between your thighs.

“Shit,” you loosen the grip, “sorry, Hee.”

“Don’t apologize. Oh my God, I could’ve died like that and would’ve been okay with it.”

Weirdly enough, you don’t think he’s joking.

“Anyways,” he continues, “you okay?”

You nod, pressing your lips into a thin line, “I’m definitely up.”

“Yeah, me too,” He responds, tapping on his painfully hard erection. “Can I…?”

“If you do all the work, sure.”

Heeseung scoffs, already moving to tug his pajama pants down, “As if I ever let you do any of it.”

It’s not a complaint, Heeseung was more than happy being the more assertive one when it came to your sex life. He didn’t mind doing most of the work as long as it meant you were getting off.

When he turns you to lay on your side you let him, resting your back against his chest as he teases his tip at your entrance. You bite down on your bottom lip, hand gripping the bed sheets when he finally does slide himself in. Heeseung grunts into your ear, placing a gentle hand on your hip, “ ‘m gonna go a little bit fast, okay? We don’t have a lot of time.”

He wasn’t exaggerating, either.

At your confirmation, Heeseung pulled out of you entirely before pushing himself back in; his thrusts overwhelmingly fast but not painful or rough. You yelp when he bites down on your neck, though, a habit he picked up upon finding out you enjoy being marked up.

He was certain that neither of you will last long like this, so it doesn’t surprise him that after a few minutes you’re already creeping up on your orgasm. Heeseung takes this as a sign to speed up his already quick thrusts, his nails digging into your hip as he presses his head onto your shoulder.

You finish first with Heeseung just a few seconds behind you, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of him filling you up with his cum. As always, he keeps his dick buried in you for another minute longer, only pulling out when he’s reminded of how little time he has.

Sitting up, Heeseung moves a few stray strands of hair out of the way to plant kisses on your face, but you stop him with the excuse of not having brushed your teeth yet before he’s able to properly kiss you on the lips.

He scoffs, “You just came on my face, do you think I care if you have morning breath? Don’t insult me.”

“At least let me eat first so I can get this weird taste out of my mouth,” you counter, reaching over your shoulder to pat Heeseung on the cheek. “Can I do that?”

Heeseung lets out a loud, dramatic sigh, “If you insist. Let me clean you up first, though.”

He stands from the bed, awkwardly pulling his boxers and pajama pants back up before excusing himself to your bathroom. He takes care of himself first before running a rag under the sink faucet and returning to your bedroom.

After cleaning you up with practiced ease, Heeseung discards of the rag in your bathroom hamper and slips back into your bedroom, finally delivering you the breakfast in bed he’d been anticipating all week, a wide grin on his face as he sets the wooden tray down on your lap. “All your favorites: french toast sticks, bacon, scrambled eggs with cheese, and a glass of cranberry juice. Bone apple teeth.”

You chuckle at his joke, admiring the feast laying in your lap as you grab a strip of bacon, “Where’s your food?” You ask, noticing there was only enough servings for one person.

Heeseung shakes his head, resting the palm of his hand on your bare knee as he sits across from you, “I’ll pick up something on the way to work, didn’t have time to make enough for both of us.”

With a pout, you take a bite of the bacon strip, “Now I feel bad.”

Heeseung grins, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “Don’t, consider this part one of your Valentine’s gift.”

You’ve finished the first strip by now, moving onto the second one as you use your free hand to retrieve your phone from the nightstand. “Well, at least let me pay for your breakfast then.”

He shakes his head at you, reaching for your phone that you manage to pull out of reach. “Babe, you seriously don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you respond, halfway through Venmo-ing him fifteen dollars, “that should be enough.”

“Y/N…”

“Done! And don’t send it back or else I’ll be really sad, you know gift-giving is my love language.”

He chuckles, using the fork and knife on the tray table to cut a piece of the french toast stick, “Thank you, baby. You spoil me.” He dips the fork into the container of maple syrup before bringing it up to your parted lips, cupping his hand underneath to prevent the syrup from dripping onto the bed sheets.

You hum, cupping Heeseung’s face as you chew, “Anything for my princess. Also, you said this was part one of my gift?”

Heeseung nods, cutting another square off the french toast, “Part two is still later tonight, once I’m off work.”

“Can you tell me what it is now, please?” You plead, clasping your hands together as you jutt out your bottom lip, staring up at him with a pout. For the past week, Heeseung had been teasing about this big Valentine’s day surprise he had planned for you, claiming it would be the “surprise of a lifetime”.

He hums, feeding you another forkful. “I’ll tell you this, when you have the time, you’re gonna have to pack an overnight bag.” Your eyes light up, waiting patiently before speaking as Heeseung continues, “And, you’re gonna have to be dressed up once I pick you up after work. Nothing crazy fancy, just… something nice.”

Heeseung can tell you want to bombard him with more questions, and brings another forkful of food to your lips before you have the chance. “I’ll be picking you up around five-forty-five, ‘m sorry I’ll have to be at the shop most of the day.”

You shake your head, picking up the glass of cranberry juice, “Don’t be, I hope the event goes well. If you have extras, can you bring me a copy of the book?”

“For sure, and I’ll see if I can leave any sooner so we have some extra time together.”

“You seriously don’t have to,” you assure him, taking a sip of your drink, “besides, I have some errands to run in the meantime.”

Heeseung raises a brow at you, “Oh? You’re going out today?”

You nod excitedly, setting the cup on your nightstand, “Yeji and I are taking the baby to a Mommy-and-Me yoga class then doing some shopping.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes at the mention of your sister, setting the fork and knife back onto the tray table. You frown at him, shoulders slouching as you tilt your head, “Why do you hate my sister so much?”

“I never said I hated Yeji.”

“You didn’t have to, it’s pretty obvious. You never wanna talk to her when she’s around and you roll your eyes whenever I mention her.”

Heeseung shrugs, “She’s just not my cup of tea, is all. Our personalities clash.”

Of course there’s more to it than clashing personalities, but you’re not quite ready for the full truth just yet, so he decides to leave it at that. “Anyways, how are Jake and Jihan?”

Your eyes light up at the mention of your future brother-in-law and nephew, “I talked to Yeji yesterday and she said things are good! Jihan is starting to roll over and Jake plans on asking his friend, Sunghoon, to be his best man. Oh, and Yeji says the baby is finally starting to look like Jake.”

“Really?”

You nod, “Mmhm, Jake is so happy.”

“Good for him,” Heeseung mumbles, watching as you take a bite of the eggs. “Gonna have to head out now, but I loaded my card onto your Apple Wallet, ‘kay? Use that while you shop.”

You blink at him, “When’d you do that?”

“Last night, consider it part one-and-a-half of your gift.”

“You spoil me.”

Heeseung grins, “Anything for you.”

The drive to Bookhaven is quiet, with Keshi playing from the stereo as Heeseung made his way to the shop and parked by the employee entrance.

Stepping right into a pile of snow, he shuts the car door behind him before making his way across the street and stopping by his favorite breakfast cafe, Heaven’s Treats. He ordered his usual: two bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches on croissants and two bottles of water; using your fifteen-dollar Venmo gift to pay and tipping the staff with a few dollars cash.

He heads back over to his shop afterwards, unlocking and entering through the employee entrance. Once inside, he unlocks his office door first, setting the bag of food down on his desk before heading into the main area of the shop. Taking a few minutes to wipe down tables and put away loose books, Heeseung hums to himself as he enjoys how quiet and peaceful the shop is. Shin Ryujin was sure to bring in a crowd later today, and he can already tell he’d be leaving the shop with a headache.

Once finished, Heeseung retreats back to his office and shuts the door behind him, grabbing the bag of food from the desk before walking over to the closet door. With a sigh, he opens it up, pushing the file cabinet to the side to reveal the door to the hidden basement. His eyes jot down to the keypad under the doorknob, where he quickly types in your anniversary before twisting the knob and pushing the door open.

Staring down at the wooden staircase, Heeseung sighs once again, “Let’s get this over with.”

Carefully, he retreats down the steps and into the basement, looking over into the glass chamber and finding Jongseong, your ex boyfriend, sound asleep on his mattress. Heeseung chuckles once he’s made it down the stairs, walking over to the pass-through attached to the glass chamber and opening it, sliding in the breakfast sandwich and bottle of water before shutting it with a loud click!

Heeseung retreats over to his desk and computer monitors that sat opposite of the glass chamber, sitting on his office chair before grabbing and turning on the intercom microphone. “Sleeping in?”

His voice comes out ten times louder in the glass chamber’s speaker, jolting Jongseong out of his sleep as he presses the palms of his hands onto his ears. “Jesus fuckin’… is the intercom necessary?! You’re right there! I can hear you through the glass!”

Heeseung shrugs nonchalantly, setting the microphone back on the desk, “You’re a heavy sleeper.” Jongseong sighs in response, rubbing his eyes as Heeseung continues, “Brought you breakfast, it’s in the pass-through. Eat before it gets cold.”

“How do I know you didn’t do something to it? Sick fuck.” Jongseong spits, arms folded across his chest as he stares at Heeseung through the glass.

“Do something like what?”

“I don’t know, spike my drink like last time?”

Heeseung lets out an agitated groan as he slumps in his chair, retrieving his own food from the takeout bag as he responds, “How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t fucking drug you that night? You actually made everything a lot easier by getting blackout drunk at a fucking nightclub.”

“Yeah, and if I didn’t blackout? Then what?”

“Who cares? It doesn’t matter, what matters is that you’re away from Y/N.”

Jongseong shivers at the mention of your name, immediately looking away from Heeseung and focusing his attention on the food in the pass-through.

Around six months ago, you’d showed up to Bookhaven hand-in-hand with Jongseong, and Heeseung had been enthralled with you ever since. He spent is every waking moment doing his research on you, which included doing a deep dive on the people closest to you: your immediate family, close friends, and stupid fucking boyfriend.

Heeseung knew the moment he laid eyes on Jongseong that he was no good for you, and was clearly putting up a facade when the two of you were together. Heeseung saw right through it, how quickly he’d pull out his phone to snap a text when you were looking, how he’d roll his eyes whenever you got too excited about something, how he almost never responded to your PDA — he was the fucking worst, and you deserved so much better. You deserved Lee Heeseung.

Days leading up to Jongseong’s disappearance, Heeseung had been watching him like a hawk; cyber-stalking him as closely as possible without being caught, until, finally, Jongseong decided to go clubbing one night.

Heeseung’s original plan was to wait until Jongseong was slightly drunk and knock him out, but Jongseong getting blackout drunk on his own accord made things way easier for Heeseung — all he had to do was pretend to be a friend to Jongseong and convince everyone else he’d be getting him home safely.

Dumbasses, all of them.

Jongseong stands, scratching the back of his neck as he walks over to the pass-through.

“Anyways, it’s Valentine’s day,” Heeseung says after biting into his own sandwich, “you have any plans? Oh wait.”

Jongseong rolls his eyes again, mumbling “Fuck you” under his breath as he retrieves his food and drink. He inspects the sandwich thoroughly before taking a bite, chewing slowly as if trying to taste each and every spice and flavor.

“Wait,” Heeseung speaks, suddenly realizing something, “if you just woke up, that means you missed the show.”

Jongseong rolls his eyes a third time, already knowing what Heeseung was getting at. “I’m sure I didn't miss much.”

Heeseung swivels around in his office chair to face the three monitors, each one surveilling different areas in your apartment. You were blissfully unaware of the hidden cameras he’d set up in your home that have been recording your every move for months on end. He’s doing it for your own safety, really; keeping an eye on you at all times.

You’re in the kitchen now, loading up the dishwasher with music playing from your phone, stopping every few seconds to belt out the lyrics or make an attempt at doing the choreography. Heeseung enjoys watching you like this, when you truly get to be yourself because you think no one is around.

He grins, switching over to the center monitor and hitting the rewind button until he sees himself entering your bedroom, “There we go.” Heeseung monitors himself closely, watching as he sets the tray of food down on your desk before walking over to your mattress.

He moves out of the way so Jongseong has a better view of the screen, a smug expression on his face as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. The monitors were on at all hours, meaning the only entertainment Jongseong had was watching you stroll around your house. Weirdly enough, it pleases him to keep an eye on you like this, making sure you’re still okay after all this time.

He can do without watching you and Heeseung have sex, though.

Jongseong turns his head away the moment Heeseung removes the blanket from your body, groaning in disgust as he takes another bite from his sandwich. “I don’t need to see this.”

Heeseung shrugs, mumbling, “Your loss” as he speeds up the replay. He prefers to focus on the key moments anyway, like the face you make right before you come on his, or how your entire body tensed when he leaned down to bite on the nape of your neck.

As arousing as it was to play back all those moments, he primarily used it as a personal study guide on what you liked the most, so he’d be better at pleasing you going forward. This behavior had started before the two of you even got together, if he’s being completely honest. One simple, playful retweet from you about preferring to receive oral rather than give it had him ordering a pocket pussy the very next day to practice on.

The first time the two of you hooked up, Heeseung had spent approximately twenty-four minutes going down on you, only stopping when you expressed concerns about his jaw locking up — not that he cared.

“Wait a second,” Jongseong pauses, crumbling the empty food wrapper into a ball before tossing it to the floor, “what happened to that big breakfast feast you kept talking about, huh? With the, uh, the pancakes and cinnamon rolls?”

When Heeseung doesn’t respond, Jongseong continues taunting, “What, realized you couldn’t do it? That you can do something as simple as prepare a meal? Wow, are you—”

“Shut up, dumbass.” Heeseung interrupts him with a shake of his head, swiveling around in his office chair until he’s facing Jongseong, “You think you’re better than me because you know how to cook? Go on then, cook something. Go to the stove and prove you’re better at me than cooking.”

Silence falls between the two, with Jongseong glaring daggers at Heeseung as he tightens his fists.

“Oh, wait,” Heeseung continues, tapping his chin, “you can’t cook; you’re trapped in my basement while I fuck your girlfriend.“

“Whatever.”

“Oh, now it’s whatever, but just a second ago you were so much better than me for knowing how to cook — you also know how to lie and cheat.”

“Whatever, Heeseung, just drop it.”

“How do you think Y/N would feel if she found out you were cheating on her with her own sister? How old do you think Jihan will be before Jake realizes why they look nothing alike?” Heeseung questions, tilting his chin at Jongseong, as if expecting a legitimate answer.

The mere thought of Jongseong and your own sister getting together behind your back is enough to make Heeseung gag; he couldn’t fucking believe two of the closest people in your life would deceive you like that. It was beyond disgusting, and he had a strong distaste for Yeji the moment he found out.

Ashamed, Jongseong turn away from Heeseung’s gaze. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes, turning around in his seat until he’s facing the monitors, “Anything involving Y/N is my business, fuck-face, including you and anyone else that bothers her.”

He navigates the surveillance controls until he’s back to watching you in real time, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smile when he sees you facetiming someone. He shushes Jongseong, who hadn’t even been speaking, as he turns the volume up in order to hear you better.

“…and I think he looks just like you, seriously…Jake?…I mean, I don’t know…I’m not really seeing the resemblance yet…”

Realizing who you were talking to and what the topic of conversation was, Heeseung clicks his tongue, “They may even find out sooner than you think.”

The sound of Yeji’s voice through the speaker has him rolling his eyes as he turns down the volume, not that it mattered, considering you disappeared into the bathroom a few moments later.

“Hey,” Jongseong taps on the glass, “let me ask you something.”

“No.”

“Why do you have a camera in every room except the bathroom?”

It’s a genuine question, but it comes out more perverted than Jongseong had intended it to.

As if the answer was obvious, Heeseung raises a brow as he responds, “I’m giving her privacy, pervert.”

[happy74827]

A Smile From Hell

[Homelander x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Despite the amount of unpredictability The Homelander has, he still catches you off guard with something as small as a smile.

WC: 3576

Category: Angst, Supe!Reader {TW — Homelander for obvi reasons}

In honor of Season 4’s weekly releases, this one is for the Antony Starr girlies (and you @summerrivera777777)

『••✎••』

John fucking terrified you.

He terrified everyone, really.

He had the power to level an entire city block with a glance. He was strong enough to crush a man's skull with one hand and fast enough to catch a bullet. He was an unstoppable force of nature. He was The Homelander, and he was a threat to anyone who stood in his way.

But, the thing was...

You knew everything about him. Everything.

And he absolutely despised that, but there was nothing he could do to change it. You had seen him at his most vulnerable and pathetic. You had seen his humanity, it’s amazing he still has any after the way Vought has abused him, and you had seen his inhumanity.

Jessica, or Sister Sage, had confronted you on several occasions, trying to get you to tell her your secrets. She wanted the upper hand on her arch nemesis, the only one in the world who was a threat to her. It was her mission to end the reign of the superhero she hated most, and she was willing to do anything for it.

You could see right through her, and you didn’t need magnificent amounts of intelligence to do so. You could see the fear in her eyes. You could see the doubt in her face, hear the strain in her voice, feel her uneasiness when she was near him.

John knew it, too. He just simply chose to ignore it. He had grown used to being the scariest man in the room. It’s been that way his whole life, and it seemed it was going to stay that way.

But, despite all that fear, she came to you for answers. Again.

And this time, the question was a simple one. It was so simple, yet completely understandably complicated.

How are you allowed to live?

That was a question that stumped you. It took you a long time to grasp the meaning of it, the specific answer she was looking for.

After a few clarifications, you finally understood what she meant.

She wanted to know why John allowed you to live. She wanted to know why he hadn’t killed you. She wanted to understand why you were the only person alive after calling him by his name.

Not his stage name, his real name.

For being the most intelligent person on the planet, you’d think that she’d be able to understand it. I mean, the answer was right there, in front of her face. She didn't need to be a genius to figure it out; all she needed was a little more insight.

A little bit of understanding.

"Respect," you said, your voice soft. Your words were clear, though, and she heard them perfectly.

The confusion on her face was evident, as was her disbelief.

"What?"

"It's respect. Anyone I respect is someone that deserves my respect."

She snorted.

"Right," she said. "Like he could actually respect anything other than himself."

"He's capable of it if that's what you're thinking," you told her. "And this isn’t about him respecting me; it's about me respecting him."

She narrowed her eyes at you, her suspicion rising.

"Why would you respect him?" she questioned. "You're not blind; you know exactly who he is."

Yes, you did. You knew more than most, and compared to The Seven now, you probably knew the most. His actions? Completely unredeemable. He was, in fact, a monster; there was no arguing that. He was a horrible, twisted, monstrous individual; no one would deny it.

His actions weren’t excusable, but he had an explanation. A reason for why he was the way he was.

He wasn’t born a monster; he was turned into one. That… that was the respect part. You respected him because you respected his story. You respected his pain. You respected his anger.

You respected his past; anything after that was on him.

"I don’t like using stage names to those I respect enough, so I call him John. He allows it because he knows I don’t mean it the way others would if they used his name; it doesn't hold the same power with me."

She rolled her eyes at you.

"Same goes for you, Jessica; I have no desire to call you Sister Sage."

Her flinch was barely visible, but you still caught it. Again, what is intelligence if not knowing the chances of a particular outcome?

"I’ve noticed you don’t call Deep or that fire chick by their real names."

You just smiled, leaving her to solve that answer for herself, and it didn’t take long at all. You knew the exact moment she came up with a conclusion. She was quite predictable, in that regard. Maybe you should’ve been the big-brained hero instead.

And now, you really should’ve been because when you turned down the hall, catching wind of the elevator doors opening, you knew he had listened to it all.

But you didn’t say anything, and you really didn’t say anything after a simple glance at him.

He was completely drenched in blood, a look that would terrify even the toughest of men. But not you, oh no, you were very used to that. He’s done a lot worse.

Besides, you were too distracted by the fact that the blood wasn't his. Too distracted by noticing how this time was different. He was smiling, but it wasn’t his usual cruel smile. This time, it was genuinely happy.

Relief, almost.

It reminded you of the night you two bonded. No, not that type of bond. The bond that told you both that you weren’t alone.

He had a friend, but he wasn’t really your friend. You don’t believe you could ever consider him one. Not really, not with the things he has done.

But, still, you were the closest thing he had to a friend. You were the closest he had to an equal, a person he could relate to. Jessica carried the same intelligence (obviously a lot more), but the similarities between the two of them stopped there.

You had a similar history but different outcomes.

And that reveal between the two of you happened that night. This was way back, even before Starlight joined. Back when The Seven was in its prime.

Stillwell threw a party, something she always loved to do before Teddy became her focus. It was the usual: people in fancy dresses and suits, lots of champagne and liquor.

The difference, however, was the main focal point. Usually, given Vought’s status, all of The Seven members were the main event. Everyone was mandated to wear their hero outfits. It was a great way to advertise and get people to buy more of the products.

The theme this time, however, wasn’t about the group. It wasn’t about any of you. For the first time in a long while, John wasn’t in the spotlight.

Due to this, Stillwell banned everyone from wearing their costumes. No capes, no spandex, no leather, no masks. Just suits and dresses.

It was nice, actually. A little break from the norm. It felt good to go a night without the tight leather on your skin. You were actually surprised at how well it was received.

The rest of the members of the group seemed to be having a wonderful time as well.

Except for one.

He was standing in the corner, glaring at everyone. Madelyn had an entire argument with him about the suit. You weren’t there, but you knew exactly how it went.

His costume was a part of him. It was a symbol. It was a mask. A representation. An embodiment of who he was. Without it, he was a naked target.

Madelyn clearly did not give a single shit. In the end, the argument resulted in the two of them getting into a screaming match, causing him to storm off in a fit of rage.

So, there he was, standing alone, seething at anyone who passed him. Madelyn won; of course, she did, and she didn't even bother trying to apologize. She wasn't sorry.

She was just mad that he refused to listen in the first place.

But, hey, that wasn’t your problem. You were enjoying yourself. The night was going pretty well; the alcohol was flowing nicely, and the music was just right. You were dancing and laughing and having a great time.

But, of course, things weren't always easy for you.

You weren’t expecting it to last long; you weren’t one to have good luck. You knew, deep down, that the night was going to come crashing down on you. You were just waiting for the ball to drop.

The ball dropped the moment you decided to go cheer up the sourpuss.

It was obvious the way his shoulders tensed, and his head tilted ever so slightly. He knew you were approaching. He was aware.

"Don't," he said.

He was clearly angry, and you weren’t smart enough not to push. This is where Jessica’s powers would have benefited you greatly.

You ignored his warning, walking up beside him, mocking his stance.

"You okay?" you asked, your tone soft and light, a hint of playfulness.

His eyes flicked over to you, and the glare he gave was terrifying. His eyes were so intense, and his teeth were clenched. You could see his jaw tensing.

He was a volcano, ready to erupt.

You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

"I'm fine." Humorously enough, it sounded like the opposite.

"Really?"

He turned his head to look at you, his anger increasing by the second.

"Don’t you have anything better to do?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm choosing to talk to you."

He looked away from you, grumbling, "And why's that?"

"Because you’re ruining the party," you answered. "Miserable face and all."

He rolled his eyes. He actually does this a lot, believe it or not. It's the only expression he has besides anger that isn’t fake.

"And why do you care?"

You shrugged again. "I care about enjoying myself, and I can't do that when you're moping."

He turned his head towards you. He was not amused.

"Go find someone else to entertain yourself with.” He pointed behind him. "I’m sure Deep will be glad to show off his fish facts."

That one caused you to make the same face he had moments ago. The absolute look of disgust on your face was enough to bring a smug grin to his own.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Don't make me throw up, John."

The name.

It was a simple slip-up, nothing more. But, of course, it meant so much more. This was before everything, so it doesn’t seem likely that a slip-up like that wouldn’t result in consequences, but it secretly was a turning point.

He could've killed you.

He could've easily grabbed you and thrown you across the room, and no one would be able to comprehend what had happened until after you were unrecognizable.

He didn't, though.

No, instead, he stared at you, his face blank, and his mind processing. You were nervous, of course. You had no idea what was going on in his head.

After a minute, a look of realization came upon him, and you could see the exact moment the gears started turning.

Then, a simple hum fell from his lips. One said he wasn’t expecting it but was deciding whether to accept it.

Then, after a few seconds, his face relaxed. His jaw was unclenched, his eyes softened, and his eyebrows relaxed.

"Let’s have a chat."

Uh oh. That’s a code red—a sign of danger.

You were so done.

And yet, for some odd reason, you followed him. You don’t know why. It was a stupid move, in your opinion. You should've run while you had the chance. You should’ve listened and just punched fishlips or something.

You didn’t, though.

You followed him, allowed him to fly you somewhere private, and just waited. You waited for your imminent doom. You were going to die; you were sure of it.

But, for some reason, your death never came.

Instead, the two of you landed on the tower’s roof, the cold New York air hitting you hard. He had set you down on your feet and went all the way to the railing.

You stood awkwardly, waiting for him to turn around with those beams in his eyes, but they never came.

He was just looking out into the city, his back turned to you, his hands on the railing.

After a few minutes of silence, he turned his head, looking at you through the corner of his eye.

"Aren't you going to ask?"

Ask what? What was there to ask?

There were plenty of things to ask, actually, and yet you had no idea what the right thing to ask was. Because, again, even here, he was unpredictable and unreadable.

You didn't want to anger him; you knew that for sure. But you were also tired of his mind games. It was a constant battle of wit, and you were sick and tired of being left in the dust.

So, you chose something simple to say. Something easy, yet not so simple to answer.

"Are you going to kill me?"

You wouldn’t be surprised if he turned around with a smile and answered yes.

He didn’t, though. Oh no, he stayed turned, staring into the city, his eyes searching. Searching for what you didn't know.

"No."

Simple and clear.

You didn't respond, and he didn't elaborate. It was silent, and it was cold, and it was a tense moment.

But you didn't leave. You just watched him, watched his movements. The way his shoulders hunched over, his head tilting down, the grips on the railing, the way his hair slowly became unstuck due to the wind.

You always thought his hair looked better when it wasn't slicked back, but this is the first time you've ever seen it that way. It was… it was nice.

Then, his shoulders relaxed, and his head straightened. He didn’t turn around, and he didn’t speak. He just looked over his shoulder at you, his eyes piercing yours.

Even with a few strands of hair on his face, his eyes were so sharp and clear. So blue. So cold.

It felt like they were reaching deep into your soul.

It was terrifying. He was terrifying.

"Do you remember your parents?"

The question took you by surprise. It wasn’t what you were expecting, but then again, this whole encounter was the definition of unexpected.

"Yes. Why?"

His eyes scanned yours as if looking for a lie. Then, he turned back around, leaning on the railing.

"I can't remember mine," he said. "Sometimes I wonder if I even had them."

Oh. Oh. This was huge. This was a big one. You had to search deeply even to find out his actual name. Now, here he was, telling you of his past.

Of all people, he chose to tell you.

You didn’t know how to feel about that.

You were honored, yes. You were excited, definitely. But, most importantly, you were worried. Is this him letting you in? Or is it him preparing you for your demise?

It was an unknown territory, a field of landmines. You knew a lot about his past already, but now he was aware of the fact that you knew. He knows, and yet he is still giving you the information.

Why?

"I mean, it doesn't make sense. Everyone has parents, right? And I couldn't have been born out of nowhere. So, I must have had parents. A mom, a dad, some form of guardians."

His face was scrunched, and his eyebrows were furrowed. You could see the way his brain was working. He was really thinking about it, wondering how the pieces fit together.

He was struggling to make a connection, and he was mad at himself for not having it.

"I'm assuming your childhood wasn't the best," you said. You knew it was a risky move, joking about his past, but so far, he seemed to like the boldness and humor.

And he did, in fact, let out a snort.

"Understatement of the year."

You smiled but quickly stopped. It was a serious conversation, and smiling probably wasn’t the appropriate reaction.

Silence filled the space again, and he was back to thinking. He was trying; he was really trying. But he just couldn't.

It wasn't the fact that his parents were a mystery; he's come to terms with that. It was the fact that he couldn’t remember anything.

All he remembered was the torture, the pain, the experiments… nothing about how he got there. Nothing about the people before the scientists. Nothing about a home. And the fact that they were currently building a fake one for him made him so angry.

It was a mockery—a complete joke.

He felt all of these emotions and yet couldn't express them.

And he was frustrated. He was pissed off and tired and angry and sad and empty and-

"Did you rip off your tie?" Your eyes had caught sight of his bare neck, the black fabric missing.

It was the only way to pull him out of his head, and, to your surprise, it worked. You could see the moment he snapped back to reality, the moment he was pulled away from his mind.

"Yeah," he answered. "It was suffocating me."

You could tell.

His hair became more unkempt due to the wind. The strands of hair on his forehead were getting in the way, and it was getting annoying. Not for you, no, but for him.

For you, it was… humanizing. It made him seem a little less like a god.

He lifted his hand, his fingers gently combing through the locks. It was a struggle, a normal struggle that you've had with your own hair.

Plenty struggle with deviating the locks away from their desired location. You've had your own fair share of moments.

But this was the first time you'd seen him experience it. The first time witnessing him do something so simple and basic.

Such a human thing. It had you wondering what else he was capable of.

He sighed, his hand dropping back to the railing. Again, it is a normal thing to happen. But, it had you smiling, the corners of your mouth curving ever so slightly.

The action did not go unnoticed.

"What?" he asked, not even bothering to turn around.

You shrugged. "I've just never…"

Your mind kept changing images. His hair, his eyes, his shoulders, his jaw, his nose, his ears, his neck, his hand, his lips, his chin, his cheekbones, his eyebrows, his skin…

Everything is listed in your mind, including the little imperfections and details that make him, well, him. This was the first time you saw him anything other than perfect.

The perfect monster he was, the god of all men. The man of the century, the one to take the world by storm. The strongest, the smartest, the best.

The symbol, the image, the mask.

The facade.

This was the first time you saw him as just a person. A human being. Just a regular guy.

"Sometimes I wonder how different life would be if you were…"

Normal.

The word was at the tip of your tongue. You could've said it; you should've said it. It was the truth. It was obvious.

But you couldn't.

He knew where your sentence was going, though. Of course, he did.

"If I was… what?" He still wanted to hear it. He was looking for validation, and he wanted it from you. His eyes were on you, his body turned, but there was this one odd thing.

A smile.

It wasn't his usual one. The one you were used to. The one that made everyone scared and uneasy. No, this was a real smile.

A soft, small one, but still a real smile.

A true smile. As if he knew the words you were going to say, as if he knew your thoughts, and he found them amusing.

You found him amusing.

And just because of that, you didn’t give him the validation.

"It’s fucking freezing out here," You coughed in hopes of successfully changing the subject. "I’m gonna get a jacket."

He was going to argue, but you were already walking off, telling him you’d take the emergency ladder down.

Nothing was spoken about that night. No words were exchanged.

But something had changed. Something had shifted. You weren’t quite sure what it was, but it was something.

So, seeing that genuine smile again in that elevator was a shock.

He had the same face as he did on that roof. It was that smile. That one specific smile.

Capable.

That's what it was.

He was capable.

He was capable of feeling and being human. He was capable of being something other than a monster.

He was capable.

All he said to you when you walked by was a simple goodnight. Something so small, yet so big. This time, those words seemed to have a little more meaning.

So, just to raise his unsettling mood, you winked and said, "Goodnight, John."

Again, a smile.

The smile.

It was hard to continue walking, and it was even harder not to turn around. But you did.

You did it knowing you were going to have a hard time sleeping. Knowing that, no matter what, you weren’t going to forget that smile.

The demon that still had a little bit of humanity in him.

A demon that was capable.

[passiveagreeable]

Love to do the things you’ve learned to do naturally that just annoy the ever loving shit out of other people. Not anything bothersome or legitimately problematic; just things that are a slight departure from the norm.