#theres something there. that was not executed well at all

[ourtalechara]

So was anyone going to tell me that Why Did I Say Okie Doki's original music video was that good amazing stunning breathtaking unbelievable or was I just supposed to figure it out and then suffer because I'm physically unable to watch it a second time

[vaniliens]

Im not even sticking around for the drama that stuff gives me heart diseases im just here to see where this guys gonna lead us and to make fun of him if it ends up bad and ignore it if it was good

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[blue-jisungs]

360

[ song inspo ! ] 360 by park jihoon

[ author's note ! ] 3 6 oh zero take a shot for meeeee

[ summary ! ] when you and your husband get called as a backup, youd never guess how that 'date' would end ...

[ warnings ! ] suggestive + allusions to sex sigh SOURY!!! since its agent au theres violence, guns and shooting, blood, mention of drugs n gangsters, kidnapping n stuff, reader is nauseous, joke or two about dying (? i promise it makes sense), swearing, sliiightly angsty i guess :3

[ word count ! ] +- 4k

seungcheol watched you carefully as you wandered around the kitchen. you grabbed two cups and turned around to join him on the couch. 

just by his smug look in his eye you could tell he was thinking about something. 

you put down the steaming cups on the coffee table and crossed your arms, standing in front of it. 

“what?” you asked, a playful smile forming on your husband’s face. 

“nothing. just admiring my wife” he hummed and as if his legs weren’t spread enough, he pushed them a little wider. he patted his thigh with a boyish grin. 

“c’mere. i missed you” he whined, brows furrowing in a pleasing expression. 

“seungcheol, you remember what happened last time. i will not explain to the doctor once again how you strained your leg” you grunted, recalling the last time when you… well, safe to say, in a rush of emotions forgot about cheol’s injury. then you had to rush to the hospital, both of you almost half naked and your state leaving very little to the imagination. the doctor nagged seungcheol to slow down with physical activities and you had to shush your husband before he blurted out something that would embarrass you even more. 

“ah, i’m better now. just come here” he giggled and pulled you onto his lap. you shifted and rested your knees on both sides, not putting all of your weight on him. “it’s just us. we should enjoy the free time we got” 

“mhm. i feel like you’re getting bored rotting inside the house” you hummed, arms wrapping around his neck. seungcheol looked at you with hearts in his eyes, shaking his head. 

“no, not at all. i love having you all to myself” he replied and before you realized, he pulled you down to rest on his lap. you just rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head in disbelief. 

due to his injury, he was put aside from his duties. and you, being his wife, had to take care of him. 

both you and seungcheol were agents. your job required a lot of running and just being physical. so naturally he wasn’t able to execute it. 

time passed and he started getting better but his doctor advised to rest for another month. 

that way he also developed many new hobbies. crotcheting, making candles, pottery, baking… you could swear he tried everything. 

“i could get used to it, you know” he sighed, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck. his soft locks tickled your skin as you played with the hair at the back of his neck “i love our job, i really do. but spending time together–“ 

your right one interrupted the peaceful moment, you and cheol pulling away at the same time. he looked at you shocked and you leaned back to grab the phone. his hands remained on your hips the whole time. 

“yeah?” you answered, putting the phone on speaker. 

“hi, doves. hopefully im not interrupting?” jeonghan asked in a slightly teasing voice. 

“yeah, actually. we were making passionate love” seungcheol grunted and you just smacked his arm, giggling. 

“don’t listen to this man child. what’s up?” you scoffed and just flicked his nose. 

“i know you can’t do shit but we’re running low on people. jun and hao got sent to china and we’re just helpless. we need you, y/n. it’s a serious matter” jeonghan’s voice was stern, a little pleading. 

“got it. i’ll be at the base in thirty” you said and were about to get off your husband’s lap when he took your phone 

“im going too” 

“what?!” you and jeonghan yelped at the same time. you smacked his shoulder yet again. 

“you heard me. i’m the captain, after all. we’ll be there in fifteen” seungcheol ordered and hang up. 

you saw his eyes darken a bit – you knew that. adrenaline rushed through his veins, he was itching to be back. 

“you’re insufferable” you grunted and went to change into your work clothes. 

“for fuck’s sake… and what are you even doing here?” jihoon crossed his arms, eyeing seungcheol up and down. 

“told him not to go” you grunted and didn’t even bother to look at your husband. you had to weapon up real quick “his doctor too” 

“i can run, chill out. it’s not like start breakdancing. my injury is 99% healed” cheol grunted, the atmosphere in the room already tense. 

“i’d rather have kyungmin take your spot” chan snickered, trying to ease the tension. kyungmin was his nephew who just started his training to be a special agent one day, just like him… and you. 

“hey, leave kyungmin alone. he’s my baby” you grinned. you really loved that kid, he was just like a happy virus. the sole sight of his cute face made you want to squish his cheeks and bite– 

“okay, let’s just go. y/n, you’ll lead the group. seungcheol, you’ll take her side, i’ll explain the details on the way” jeonghan massaged his temples and left the room. 

“someone’s pissed” cheol teased. jeonghan took over for the time being of seungcheol’s absence and it seemed like he already wanted to have his leader back. 

as a group of special agents, your tasks and duties varied. sometimes it would be protecting someone, sometimes taking down criminals… a new day, a new surprise. 

“okay, we got called as backup. there are hostages and they are the main priority, alright? one of them is the health minister’s daughter. the location is an abandoned factory, the kidnappers just wanted money. however, we got informed that they are the local drug gang we’ve been trying to locate ever since you and cheol got time off” jeonghan explained once in the car, eyeing you in the mirror “they are really reckless and unpredictable. there was no connection between the daughter and them and despite their illegal actions, they still decided to show themselves and kidnap her. because of that the minister sent a government group too, they’ll help us too” 

“don’t worry, i’ll protect you” seungcheol said, the buzz of adrenaline in his veins making it hard to stay still. as if himself alone could replace the whole additional group. but… 

he missed this. he missed the thrill of danger, the action, the tension. he just loved this job way too much and no amount of crocheted socks or baked cinnamon rolls could replace this. 

“take a shot for me, hm?” you hummed, cupping his jaw. seungcheol’s face scrunched in a soft smile. 

this saying was what got you closer. when you were new in the crew, you and cheol didn’t really… enjoy each other. so you two would often bicker and joke about letting the other down (which was cruel if you thought about it but on the other hand… you had no feelings towards him whatsoever. how the turn tables). after your first successful mission, you said it too when you were celebrating. so seungcheol drank a shot, holding eye contact with you. something deep about his gaze turned the phrase more intimate, turning into a promise of protecting the other with your own life. 

“you’re gonna manifest it one day and i’m gonna kill myself if one of you dies” dokyeom suddenly spoke up and you just snorted, turning your head towards him. 

“you’re being dramatic” you snickered, resting your head on seungcheol’s arm. 

“no, no. he’s right. we missed you like crazy, you’re kinda like a parental figure to me” chan stuck his head out from his seat behind you, sending you a toothy grin. 

“don’t get too used to this. this drama queen still needs to rest” you pointed at seungcheol “but, jeonghan, tell us more about the drug gang. leaders, weak points maybe…?” 

seungcheol and you left the car, not going too far. jeonghan handed you both a walkie talkie and then moved a bit away to test it. 

“coups, do you copy?” jeonghan checked. you haven’t hear your husband’s code name in a while. 

suddenly, it all hit you. you’re back in the field, gun and knives attached to your hip. your bulletproof jacket on your chest, heavy boots hugging your feet. there’s life on the scale, and you’re responsible for saving those hostages. 

a wave of nausea washed over you, bending in half. 

“fuck, y/n, are you okay?” seungcheol asked; his voice shook a bit, taken aback by your sudden reaction.

“i got nervous all of a sudden, i might throw up” you groaned, clutching your stomach. 

“hey, it’s okay” he kneeled down next to you, eyeing your pale face. rubbing your back in a reassuring motion, he didn’t notice others sending you worried looks.

“i’m fine” you muttered and took a few deep breaths, the sick feeling fading away. 

your husband didn’t take his eyes off you, nodding reassuringly. 

“do you want some water?” he asked, big bambi eyes staring at you. 

“no, thanks. i just… the realisation hit me, i wasn’t prepared mentally to come back so suddenly. but i’m fine, don’t worry” you smiled softly and patted his arm “i promise”

“you better because you come in like, in ten. you have everything? remember: hostages are the priority” jeonghan’s smooth voice suddenly boomed from behind you and you just nodded. a loud churn turned in your stomach, your breakfast suddenly wanting to escape. 

but you swallowed hardly and rushed to your spot. seungcheol followed you and before you had to head in, he pressed a quick kiss on your lips.

the old magazine was quite a messy location but luckily you were able to pass through it unnoticed if you tried enough. 

on jeonghan’s signal you went in, leading the group. dividing into small groups to locate the aim, you placed your feet surely on the ground. 

wonwoo and jun who were with you were as quiet as mice. 

“got anything?” vernon’s voice rang in your in-ear. you replied quickly, deciding to check the rest of the corridor you got and to return to one of the squares. 

it was overgrown by various plants, clearly a sign of abandonment of this place. it had a couple of benches, most of them ready to fall apart upon a small movement. it was probably an area where the workers could take a break, back in the day when the factory was working. 

it had four exits, by two of which your group came in. 

“what now?” chan asked jeonghan through the walkie-talkie and just when there was a buzz of an incoming answer, you heard seungcheol’s voice. 

“a movement at twelve, i saw through one of the windows. we’ll be there in a moment” 

in a flash you aimed your gun at the door in front of you, waiting for them to open. 

seungcheol could see the square thanks to most of the walls not surviving the test of time and simply falling apart. and also most of the windows were broken due to some hooligan’s actions.

“get ready, don’t shoot yet” you ordered, shifting the weight of your body on your right leg in a defensive position. 

and surely, the metal doors soon clinged open. 

your jaw tensed when you saw one of the gangsters, holding a hostage. and a gun to their head. it was a boy, he looked as if he could be kyungmin’s age. it made your brows furrow. 

“took you long enough. we were starting to get bored” the man grunted. they knew you were coming, they definitely had a plan. you swallowed, unsure what to say. however, the man was faster. 

“who’s the leader of this pathetic little group?” he asked. 

you proudly stepped out, not wasting a second. the aggressive man just pushed his gun closer to the hostage’s head. 

then, seuncheol entered the room, aiming at the man as well.

“drop the weapon and follow me” he snarled “unless you want my colleague to shoot the minister’s daughter” 

“y/n…” jeonghan warned you, not even sure why – he knew you wouldn’t listen. 

you slowly kneeled down and tossed your gun on the grass, raising back up with your hands in a defensive posture.

“i’m going with her” cheol’s voice boomed behind you, shortly followed by the sound of a dropping gun. 

no one noticed but the gang member realized the bligning golden rings on your fingers. a teasing smile bloomed on his face as he nodded.

“welcome” he just mumbled.

“let me see her” you ordered and the man just turned around, silently telling you to follow him. 

“don’t do anything stupid, you’re unharmed! both of you!” jeonghan hissed through the in-ear. 

seungcheol’s heart sped up and he looked at your group through his shoulder for the last time. 

“the other group has to follow them, now! use the right wing, don’t get caught. use the second exit, the one i showed you on the map. go!” jeonghan ordered.

“what’s your plan? you’re surrounded” you blurted out. the man just snickered. 

“you’re a dumb bitch if you think i’ll tell you that” 

“motherfucker” you heard cheol’s hiss and just sent him a nagging look. the man either didn’t care nor didn’t hear.

soon enough after entering and passing through some rooms and corridors, the guy lead you to a room on the second floor. 

the hostages were tied there, sunlight shining through a half broken window on their frightened faces. 

“now that was dumb to follow us all alone. we’ve got two more to our collection. well, you definitely won’t be as worth as her” the man spat on the floor next to a blonde girl, nudging her with his foot. 

“tell me how much you want. we can solve this without hurting anyone” you pleaded, eyeing the guards in the room. then, you casted an eye over the hostages. huh yunjin, the daughter of the minister. jeonghan showed you her pictures. you also saw two young boys, a man who you saw before and a woman… with her baby. 

a baby. 

your jaw clenched. your husband noticed that and only sent you a calming look.

“a woman of business. now we’re talking” the gangster huffed and followed your line of sight. he smirked upon noticing you’re looking at the small baby. 

“i see them! second floor, west side. the hostages are on the middle, there’s more or less five people. i can’t see the whole room” you heard jihoon’s voice in your in-ear - he took the sniping spot alongside dokyeom and seungkwan.

“how much do you want?” you asked, finally looking up. the man suddenly started laughing, grabbing his walkie-talkie. 

“i’ll show you something, listen closely” he smiled disgustingly and started talking to the walkie-talkie “rooftops, how we’re feeling? did you take down those ants already?” 

“on it, sir” the buzz sent shivers down your spine. they had snipers too? 

wait, rooftops?

“oh shit–!” jihoon’s yelp rang in your ear. 

“jihoon-ah!” jeonghan’s voice was full of fear and you felt your heart speeding up when your friend didn’t reply. 

you stared at the aggressors, your chest rising up and down. 

the silence was so loud, your racing heart tearing apart. should you save the hostages and remain calm or should you– 

“fucking asshole missed” 

a shaky sigh left your lips and you glared at the leader of the gang. 

“what do you want?” you hissed, jaw clenched. your hand was itching to reach for your hidden weapon. 

“see, misses… life is not all about love, money, fame. although it is fun that way” the man tsked, circling around the hostages. they were looking at you pleadingly. 

you shifted your fingers, calculating how much time you have. if the snipers could take the rest of the guards down before you reach out for your hidden knife. 

you caught seungcheol’s stern gaze, he could read you like an open book.

“don’t” he mouthed. you just cursed mentally and raised your eyes to the sky. 

“you know, we’re doing it because, well… money. but also, i got a little bored” the man spoke up, standing still and observing you two. 

jeonghan was right, this guy is a psycho. bored? he was bored and decided to give those poor kids trauma. 

“but thanks to you my game just got a whole lotta entertaining!” he opened his arms widely with a grin. you wanted to rip it off his face.

“hang on in there, we’re almost there!” jeonghan said. he could hear everything that was going on, including your rapid breaths. 

“because if i’m not mistaken… you’re married, hm? lovebirds… quite a romantic date idea” he chuckled slyly, fox-alike. 

the sound of a gun reloading made you take a step closer to seungcheol. 

fuck. 

you usually take off your wedding rings. exactly for the risk of such a situation. and also because it was more comfortable to hold a weapon with a free hand.

“so, mr. husband. choose. her…” the gang leader pointed his gun at yunjin, her eyes glossy. then, he painfully slowly aimed his weapon at you. right between your eyes “... or her” 

“fuck. where are you?” jeonghan asked the group. 

you stopped breathing, ringing in your ears getting hard to bare. 

“her, pick her” the daughter of the minister whined, almost begged. tears pooled in your eyes - this poor girl wanted to save you.

“yunjin, listen to me. you’ll live. don’t panic” you reassured her, shaking your head. 

seungcheol stayed silent, swallowing hard. in theory, the choice was easy: you; he’d always choose you. 

but he didn’t want anyone to die. especially this young girl that still had her whole life in front of her. he knew the trouble everyone could get in if anything happened to her. both you, him and his whole team. 

“come on” the gang member teased. 

“shoot me” 

you whipped your head at seungcheol, mouth falling agape. he was serious.

“cheol, what the fuck are you even talking about!” you yelled, trying to grab his hand but the loud tsk made you halt. 

“a man of honor…” the guy started.

“boss, i see a group of people approaching the room” his walkie-talkie speaking made you freeze. you’re doomed. 

“see, normally i’d make you suffer a bit more. maybe even give you time to say your last goodbye. but since your team is coming, i have no options left” the guy grinned and moved his gun at seungcheol, lowering his hand a bit.

then it all happened in a blink of an eye, your heart fuelling your limbs. 

when seungcheol didn’t feel any pain but he heard the gunshot, he thought it was the adrenaline blocking his sensors. only when your body surged forwards to cover him, it was too late for him to react. 

along with your painful yelp, the door swung open and your team came to rescue you and the hostages. 

with the rest of your strength you reached for your hidden knife and threw it at one of the guards who was getting ready to shoot. 

“hey, hey. y/n… fuck, are you stupid?” cheol kneeled down, panic in his ebony irises. he held your body, sticky blood covering his palms. he was freaking out, only being able to observe how your eyes are starting to lose their light.

“take a shot for me, remember?” you smiled softly, bringing your hand to his cheek. 

“no, no, no. that’s why he was supposed to shoot me! we… you, i… you can’t–” he breathed out, tears filling his eyes. 

he didn’t realize the fight that was going on, luckily jihoon and the rest of the snipers were taking care of your backs. the voices around him blurred out; fell silent on his ears as he was only focused on you. 

your eyelids drooping, your limbs getting lighter. he held your wrist that was cupping his cheek, the other hand looking for the wound to stop the bleeding at least for a moment.

“i love you, cheol”

the light in the room was unbearable. but so was the silence. the horrible, bone shattering silence. 

“how is she?” jeonghan asked quietly, stepping into the room with a doctor, mingyu. 

seungcheol just swallowed, shrugging his shoulders. your face was pale, your arm bandaged. he already wiped the dried blood off your cheek. most importantly, you were breathing. 

“good question” seungcheol murmured, squeezing your hand. 

mingyu looked at his papers and clicked his pen, humming. 

“i’m fine, actually” 

jeonghan’s soft gasp was followed by your husband’s yelp. he lurched forward to hug you, careful not to cause any pain to your arm. 

you giggled into his shoulder, wrapping your free hand around his back. 

“you gave us a heart attack” jeonghan snickered and the doctor just smiled. seungcheol leaned away a bit and you brushed off the hair from his forehead. visible relief was painted all over his face. 

“sorry. couldn’t let my hubby die before me” you snickered and jeonghan just tsked in disapproval “also, how…”

“everyone is alive, sound and safe. well, except some of the gang members. we captured the leader, who did manage to escape but… um, your husband put the pedal to the metal, let’s just say that” he snickered.

“good. very good. i’m glad they are all safe” you smiled and interlocked your fingers with cheol’s.

“if i may interrupt…” the doctor cleared his throat and you all nodded, allowing him to read his notes “everything is fine. you got shot in the arm, luckily above the bone. you did lose a lot of blood but everything, as i said, is fine. the baby too”

“that’s good” you grinned and halted, your smile fading. you blinked twice, furrowing your brows. seungcheol didn’t seem to understand “wait, what baby?”

now it was mingyu’s turn to frown. jeonghan’s eyes were as wide as plates.

“you’re pregnant, mrs choi. i thought you knew?” he frowned, observing the pure shock on your faces.

“i... we… baby?” seungcheol choked out, pointing at himself and then you. 

“well that’s how babies are made, right?” the doctor snickered.

“oh my god, you weren’t joking with the passionate love making” jeonghan groaned dramatically and you just fellt your face go red. 

“no! i mean… wait, how… how… which week…?” you asked, looking at your husband. he was still clearly processing it.

“ninth week. it’s normal that you couldn't see the belly” the doctor explained and just smiled softly “well, i’ll leave you alone now. if you have more questions or want to do extra check up, or usg for the baby, just let us know. and congratulations, i suppose” 

he sent you a toothy smile and left. 

you could see cogs turning in jeonghan’s head.

“so that would mean… three months, more or less… oh, ew, someone was celebrating their birthday!” he fake gagged and your eyes widened.

“you’re gross,  get out!” you laughed and he just snickered.

“i will. let me spread the news tho” he smiled and left. 

seungcheol kept staring at you, lips parted.

“cheol?” you asked softly, sitting up. his fingers traced the cold metal of your wedding ring in an absentminded motion.

“y/n… we’re going to be parents” he whispered, tears pricking his eyes. 

he let them flow, smile breaking on his lips. 

“we are” you agreed happily. sure, life was messy with your job - and maybe it was a sign to change your profession to something less life risking. but during cheol’s injury you got a taste of the time alone. 

it was nice. peaceful, embodiment of love. 

and now, there’s gonna be an additional member of your small family. maybe it won’t be as peaceful as it was with just the two of you. but it’ll definitely be worth it. 

seungcheol leaned in and cupped your face, surprising you with a passionate lips. wet tears stained your cheeks and you weren’t sure anymore if they were yours or his. one thing was certain, though: they were tears of joy. 

your life will turn 360 degrees now but with your husband by your side, you know it’ll be perfect. 

svt masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,,

@weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,,

@eternalgyu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu ,, @nonononranghaee

[jyoongim]

Can I request and Alastor x reader where she was his wife when they were alive but she ends up in heaven while in her early 20’s due to being murdered on her way home from his radio station one night. She never knew about Alastor’s crimes but she finds out about the extermination at the meeting Charlie has with heaven and sneaks down during the next extermination not knowing if Alastor is still alive or not? Maybe some magic like reader singing No Good Deed from Wicked trying to prevent Alastor from being harmed or killed? Once they find each other I can’t imagine Alastor ever letting her leave again, not even to heaven. Can I request a bit of fluff and maybe NSFW to make up for the time spent apart? Thank you!

Title: Ruined Redemption 

Warnings: 18+! NSFW, angel!wife Reader, fem!reader, reader & Alastor married, mention of past life, mention of death, demon!alastor, fluff, creampie, rough sex, French, Heaven & Hell, am i missing something????

”You sure you dont want me to walk you home cher? I can wrap up right now” Alastor said as you pressed your soft lips to his cheek. You reassured him you would be fine. That you were perfectly capable of getting home without him escorting you.  “No no ill be fine promise. Just dont stay too late hmm? I would love to have my husband in our bed for once when the sun ain’t risin’” you said, glaring at him playfully. 

He chuckled, nodding ”Be careful on your way home cher, it ain’t safe for a doll like yourself to be roamin’ the streets at this time of night” Alastor said as you waved goodbye.

“I love you”

The stars twinkled in the sky as you stared up at them.

You blinked, raising a weak hand up to them.

 Blood.

You were bleeding. 

You had took a shortcut to get home and a man had grabbed you into a dark alleyway.

He tried to take advantage of you but you resisted, angry that you wouldn’t be a easy target he slit your throat so you wouldn’t cry out, leaving you to bleed out onto the cold concrete.

Your wedding ring shined at you. You let out a gurgle,

Alastor…

You use to think that people were lyin’ when they said your life flashed when times of death, but tears welled in your eyes as every memory of you and Alastor came to your mind.

The night you met Alastor was the last one you saw as you heaved your last breath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

”Did you forget Hell is forever?”

You sat at the council meeting as the princess of Hell tried to reason with Sera. You were saddened that the Angels went down and executed the soul of the damned.

You thought the idea of rehabilitating souls was a good idea. 

You had waited years to see Alastor, but you quickly became concerned when each year he didn’t pass through those pearly gates.

Alastor was in Hell. At least you had hoped. 

You heard that the next extermination was soon and you plotted to descend to Hell to find your lost lover.

Alastor please be okay 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hell wasn’t as bad as you thought. 

You quickly found the hotel the princess hosted and knocked on the door.

”Oh why hello- wait you’re-” Charlie stuttered.

You gave her a smile. You must have looked ridiculous, an Angel at her door and with the extermination approaching.

”D-Do you know Alastor?” You asked, almost pleading that you hoped your lover was at her hotel.

She blinked and nodded, letting you inside.

”I thought your idea was bees knees by the way”you said as she ushered you to sit on a couch.

”W-Why thank you! But…how do you know Alastor?” She asked.

You fiddled with your ring. “Well you see I’m his-”

”Darlin’? ” a voice interrupted you.

You almost broke your neck turning around. You let out a gasp “A-Alastor?”

A tall red demon stood in the archway.

He was dressed in all red, save for the few black accents.

His face dawned shocked, though his smile never faltered. But you saw it was tense.

You stood up and approached him.

Theres no way this was your Alastor…

You subconsciously reached a hand to his face “A-Alastor…is it really you?”

He leaned into your touch, grasping your wrist softly

”Mon cher…”

Your eyes welled with tears and you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him as you buried your face in his chest.

Still in shock, Alastor wrapped his lanky arms around you.

Whiskey and sandalwood. That was the scent that flooded your nose, same scent that always clung to him.

”I t-thought i would never see you again” you cried.

”what are you doing here?” You asked

He smiled “I should be askin you the same thing. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be down here”

You didn’t even realize that an audience had gathered.

”what’s white wings doing down here?”

You eased your grip on him, actually taking him in.

He looked nothing like your Alastor, but you knew it was him.

”Oh baby what could you have done to land yourself in hell?” You asked.

The tall spider gave a laugh “Freaky face there is one of hell’s most powerful Overlords toots”

Alastor glared at him before looking down at you “Its a rather unpleasant story my dear, but I guess I should tell you now”

And tell you he did.

You wouldn’t have thought that your Alastor was the one who had once terrorized your city.

Your husband was…You had married a killer.

”regret marrying me doll?”he asked at your shocked face.

You shook your head “Never” you gave him a smile “But you’re at a hotel that promotes soul redemption?”

He laughed “Just a little investment of mine to pass the time. I have no notion to redeem my soul”

This caused you to panic “B-but the extermination!”

He caressed your cheek “Don’t worry about that, I wont let anything happen”

You huffed, deciding to trust him “Well aren’t you gonna introduce me?” You asked turning to give your full attention to the bunch.

”Why of course! Everyone this pretty doll is my darling wife” he beamed

”WIFE!?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor took you on a tour of the hotel. You walked, arms interlocked as he showed you around.

You laughed when he brought you to his radio tower “Just couldn’t let it go huh?” You had said, earning a laugh.

He led you to his bedroom. You marveled at how it suited him. There was a swamp that split up the room.

A true southern man you sighed.

You sat on his bed, taking it all in.

Alastor couldn’t believe that you were here.

He thought that he would never see you again.

He had figured that you were in Heaven after a few decades.

You were his sweet little wife. You were the only good thing in his life.

He absolutely lost his mind when he was told you were killed on your way home.

He should have walked you home.

Your death weighed on him for decades. Even in death.

But here you were.

You hadn’t changed a day. Well the wings and halo were new.

”Mon cher…” He approached you, voice dropping the static and kneeled before you. 

You were real and you were here.

His arms wrapped around your waist as he laid his head on your lap.

Your hands found his hair, massaging his scalp. You tickled at his ears and giggled when they twitched.

”je suis désolé mon amour. je suis tellement désolé que tu aies connu un sort aussi cruel. si j'étais juste rentré à la maison avec toi... je suis vraiment désolé” his heart was pounding as he nuzzled into your stomach.

You smiled at his words. You cupped his cheeks, lifting his face to yours “it wasn’t your fault Al. Things happen. All that matters is that we are together again. ‘Ill defy death itself to be with you," were our vows remember?”

Alastor moved quickly. He gently pushed you onto your back as he climbed over you.

”tell me…tell me our vows again”

He tugged at his bow tie and stripped off his jacket, you retracted your wings as you watched him

”A-Al?” You whispered, suddenly breathless.

”please…tell me our wedding vows”

”From the moment our paths crossed, it was always you.

It was the moment we met that I saw everything. 

Our future.” 

He unbuttoned his dress shirt.

“You were everything i ever dreamed of and became so much more. 

I love you.”

He leaned down to kiss you

“Heaven and Earth cannot compare to how much I love you. 

Through the good and bad, Ill always love you.

 I give my heart and soul to you to cherish for an eternity ”

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he peppered wet kisses along your neck

”Ill reap the Earth to and tear the Heavens apart to remain bound to you”

You gasped as he nipped your shoulder

”This love I give can never die. For Ill defy death itself to forever be with you.”

he buttoned your shirt, brushing a thumb over your nipples. A shiver ran through you.

”For death itself could never part us. 

I am yours forever and always and ill raise Hell if death tried to part us ”

You moaned softly as he took a nipple into his mouth.

“Alastor…”

The rest of your clothing was quickly removed.

You almost wanted to cover yourself.

When was the last time you were intimate with Alastor?

You felt like you were on your wedding night all over again.

”You’re as beautiful as when you were alive my dear”. He whispered, spreading your thighs.

You jumped feeling his hand skim your exposed clit.

You were embarrassed with how wet you were.

he still had that effect on you, even in the afterlife.

Your breath hitched as he dipped a finger inside you

Alastor groaned, you felt just as you did before.

You pulled him to your face, your face flushed and eyes lidded. Your soft lips met his as he worked your cunt.

”Alastor please” you whined against his lips.

You were always such an impatient thing.

But he would never deny you.

He growled ”If I fuck you Ill never let you go. You’ll never see those pearly gates again if you let me have you. So tell me you don’t want this, you don’t want me and Ill stop” he shimmied out of his pant, freeing his cock.

Alastor was lying. Even if you told him to stop and you didn’t want this he would never let you go back to Heaven.

Not when he just got you back.

Your lips met his again, the kiss was filled with longing and passion.

”I never want to be without you again”

He slammed his lips on yours again as he slid his cock into you, swallowing your squeal as you took him.

Fuuuuuuuuuucccccckkkkk

He gave a few soft thrusts to make sure you adjusted well to him.

You panted into the crook of his neck. Nails clawing into his back as he rocked into you.

A cry ripped from your throat as he gained momentum.

”Aahh!”

This was different. So different from when you were alive.

Alastor was always passionate in bed with you, but this…this was so…you couldn’t even describe it.

a word popped into your head.

Divine

The way he fucked you told of how much he had missed you. 

Decades of being apart melting away as he pounded into you.

You locked your ankles behind his waist.

”You always take me so good cher. So so so good” He moaned into your ear.

The sound of skin hitting skin and your soft moans filled the air.

His cock hit that soft sweet spot inside you making you wetter.

”Ill ruin you. Fuck you til you’re drenched in me. Until your very scent is covered in me.” a harsh thrust brought him to be buried to the hilt.

Alastor smirked as your cunt fluttered

”You want that doll? To be ruined? To never see Heaven again? Hmmm you’ll throw away your salivation to be fucked by a demon like me?”

The telltale squelch of your cunt was his answer.

He would be damned if he ever let you out of his sight again.

His pace turned rough, he could feel himself changing.

”Alastor?” You felt him get bigger. His body morphed and when you looked at him, he expected fear.

But you looked in awe as he turned into his demon form.

Antlers big as willow branches, eyes black and glowing red like dials. He was disheveled.

He looked like a wild beast.

And he was fucking you like one.

All you could do was hang onto him. Letting him take you like you would disappear.

”ooh fuck aaahh please please” you cried as he fucked you, rutting into you with so much force you swear the bed was knocking against the wall.

You  felt your thighs tremble from taking his brute thrusts. That familiar tingle forming in your stomach.

were you gonna cum? Could you cum?

guess you’ll find out

Your demon husband was fucking you and you were gonna cum.

on his demon cock…oh heavens…

”Tu vas jouir, chérie ? Tu vas laisser un démon t'arracher ta libération ? Vous voulez que? hmmm? Tu veux jouir sur la bite de ton démon ? laisse-moi l'avoir chérie”

He purred, fucking into you so hard that a slight bulge was present.

He was going to break you. Ruin you.

He unhooked your legs, pushing one to your chest to get a better angle. Hitting those spots that had you seeing stars.

”A-Al! Oooh fu-fuuuck! I-I’m cumming oh my g-”

A large claw hand covered your lips

He snarled “There’s no God here sweetheart. Now. Cum”

Your body seized, feeling like a fire had set off as your organ ripped through you.

Alastor slapped his mouth over yours to eat your cries.

He thrusted into feverishly, seeking to paint your heavenly walls white with his cum as he fucked you through your orgasm.

”that’s a good girl, milking me dry”

He gently cradled your limp head, nipping at your swollen lips “where you want me cher? Cause i got half a mind to soak you in my cum”

You whined “i-inside…please cum inside me Alastor…baby please!”

He grinned “As you wish”

His pace quickened and with a low growl he emptied his cum into your cunt, sighing as he filled you til it spilled around him.

You let out a soft whine as he pulled out, wincing at the emptiness that he left behind, feeling his cum drip down your ass.

Alastor purred like an engine as he took you into his arms, basking in the afterglow as you cuddled into his side.

This is where you belonged.

By his side.

He’ll tear Heaven apart if they tried to take you back.

You were the Radio Demon’s.

Forever and always

@jellibean2018 @thewinchestah @markster666 @3verlark @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @alastwhore666 @horrorartsworld @gojosaturos-wife @ioniiaa @alstorloml @polytheatrix @catherine69420 @catmunist @lbcreations-blog @night-owl-2000

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Comment if you want to be tagged!!!

[bombiikki]

𐙚⋆.˚　────  i don't even like you that much °｡⋆⸜

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ – non idol!minji x fem!reader !!

synopsis: you never would’ve thought to find yourself bonding over some apple cider with someone—and all it took was your dormmate dragging you to a kbbq. now, you’re stuck with kim minji by your side as “just friends”.

contains: small angst, reader has an ex, drinking is mentioned, situationship???, bascially js friends with benefits, reader confesses early on but they dont do nothin abt it, well they do kiss like 3 times after but its ok cuz no homo, except theres a whole lotta homo activity, hanni is reader's dormmate

wc: 9.2k

a/n: ugh this wasnt proofread at all and i was so gonna scrap it but EHHH ITS WHATEVERRR i liek the idea i js dont think i executed it well enough. sighssss (i totally rushed this but i lkw cant be bothered to fix it im so sorry) (ill write another minji fic soon to amke up for whatever this was)

♪ ༘⋆ now playing – apple cider by beabadoobee

you hadn’t really gone out since the breakup.

the breakup wasn’t exactly dramatic either. not in the movie-scene way. there were no screaming matches, no shattered mugs or slamming doors. it was the type of breakup with a quiet ending—one that left everything and nothing at the same time.

you still saw her sometimes—your ex—in the quad or at the coffee stall by the library. you didn’t talk, of course. you just noticed her presence the way you’d notice a bruise on your thigh—dull, lingering. fading, but not gone.

you’d been existing more than living lately. floating between lectures and your dorm bed, skipping anything loud or social or messy. hanni, your dormmate, hadn’t stopped trying. she left you sticky notes and poked her head in every other night with some new plan.

“you need to touch grass,” she said one afternoon, perched upside down on her bed like her blood belonged in her head. “you’re turning pale and tragic.”

“i’m always pale,” you muttered, typing something pointless on your laptop.

“exactly,” she said, flipping upright with purpose. “come out with me tonight. nothing intense. just food. some of the girls from my dance classes. you’ll like them.”

“do i have to talk?”

“only if you want more rice.”

you pretended to grumble, but the truth was, you’d already said yes in your silence. part of you knew hanni was right. hiding didn’t help. sulking didn’t soften anything. so you said okay. put on your jumper—the old faded one with a sun stitched near the sleeve—and followed her out into the night.

the restaurant was tucked into a narrow street just off campus. warm, golden lights spilled out of fogged windows. laughter echoed from inside. the scent of grilled meat and garlic hit you before you stepped through the door.

you tried not to shrink in on yourself as you slid into the booth. hanni’s friends greeted you like you’d always been there. it wasn’t so bad. it was warm and noisy, and no one expected you to be interesting.

and then she walked in.

minji.

someone called her name, and that’s how you knew it. minji. it fit her.

she slid into the space across from you like she’d always belonged there. her hair was half-tied, a few strands falling into her face. lip gloss smudged a little at the corner. she laughed at something someone said, low and honeyed, and when her eyes landed on you—just for a second—it felt like someone knocked the wind out of your lungs.

“you’re hanni’s roommate, right?” she asked halfway through the meal, her voice soft under the noise.

you nodded. “y/n.”

“i like your jumper.”

you blinked. “thanks.”

it was nothing. a throwaway compliment. said in passing. but the way she looked at you when she said it—it stayed. like she meant it. like it wasn’t just about the jumper.

you caught yourself glancing at her through the rest of dinner. she was so… easy. like she belonged in rooms like this. loud ones. happy ones. and she didn’t shrink when people spoke to her—she leaned in. smiled. answered. you used to be like that, you thought. or maybe you just wanted to be.

you ended up walking back with hanni. minji went in a different direction.

“she’s pretty,” you said, trying to sound casual.

hanni glanced over at you with a knowing look. “mhmm.”

“i’m not—”

“i didn’t say anything.” she grinned. “but if you’re gonna start wearing that jumper every day, at least wash it once in a while.”

you rolled your eyes but said nothing.

and yeah. you wore the jumper again the next day. and the day after that.

you saw minji again in a literature lecture, a few rows ahead. she glanced back as you walked in, offering a little wave. your heart stuttered like it didn’t know how to beat properly anymore.

you didn’t know what this was. or if it was even anything. you just knew it felt new. and maybe a little dangerous.

you tucked your sleeves over your hands and looked down at your notebook.

you didn’t look up again for the rest of the lecture.

the thing about invite-only parties was that no one actually cared who invited who. maybe it started exclusive, but somewhere between the third repost on someone’s story and the promise of free drinks, the whole campus decided they were invited too.

the party was everything you’d expected and nothing like you imagined.

it was too loud, and too many people were crammed into the living room, red cups in hand, bodies swaying too close, too eager. music pulsed from the speakers, the bass thumping so hard it rattled your chest. you could feel it in your throat, deep and hollow.

hanni was already halfway through the door when she turned back to you, eyes sparkling. “you ready to make bad decisions?”

you didn’t answer, just followed her inside, your sneakers sticking to the floor with each step.

“hey, y/n!” someone greeted you, someone from your economics class, and you offered a half-smile. you were fine with being there—just not too here. not where everything felt too fast, too sticky with cheap alcohol and messy socialising. you’d rather have been back in your dorm, tucked up with a book, far away from this.

but hanni dragged you deeper into the crowd, and before you knew it, you were holding a cup of something—beer, maybe? you didn’t care enough to check.

and then you saw her.

minji was standing by the kitchen counter, talking to someone, but her eyes met yours across the room. for a second, there was nothing but her gaze—soft, like she was trying to figure you out. you smiled, uncertain, and she returned it, before turning back to the conversation.

it felt like you’d been staring at her forever, but then someone nudged you, and you were suddenly aware of how hot and cramped the space was.

“let’s find somewhere to sit,” hanni said, already heading for the couch.

you followed, but your eyes flicked to the kitchen where minji still stood. the crowd felt so loud now.

you sipped from your cup, unsure if the taste was even pleasant or just something you were doing to blend in. hanni’s voice bubbled up beside you, but your mind was elsewhere, distracted by the way minji was laughing again, easy, like it was just part of who she was.

it was then that you realised—you didn’t want to just blend in. you wanted to be part of something here.

you made yourself move. you weren’t sure if you were making a choice or if it was just what happened when someone like minji looked at you like that.

when you reached the kitchen, minji was there, holding a bottle of something—but it wasn’t the kind of drink you were expecting.

“apple cider,” she said, offering you a bottle like she’d been waiting for you.

you blinked. “apple cider?”

“yeah,” she smiled. “it’s the non-alcoholic thing here. and it’s hella good too.”

you laughed, sudden and real. “i thought i was the only one not trying to burn my throat tonight.”

she leaned against the counter beside you, eyes flicking around the room like she was only half-interested in the chaos.

“i don’t like the taste of alcohol,” she admitted. “makes my tongue feel like sandpaper.”

“you’ve tasted sandpaper?”

“no. but i imagine it feels like regret and tequila.”

you snorted into your drink. “accurate.”

someone bumped into your back, a spill of music and limbs, but minji didn’t flinch. she just shifted a little closer, her shoulder brushing yours. the air between you smelled like fruit punch and cheap perfume and something soft, like home wrapped in a cardigan.

“so,” she said, voice quieter now. “you come to these things often?”

you shook your head. “first one this year.”

“why?”

you looked at your bottle. “dormmate peer pressure.”

she grinned. “same. let me guess—hanni?”

“you too?”

“she dragged me out by the collar.”

you both laughed, and for a moment, the party faded into background noise. there was only this little bubble of fizz and warmth and matching drinks.

“so what do you do when you’re not drinking apple cider at loud parties?” she asked.

you shrugged. “read. avoid drama. overthink texts for hours. you?”

“draw on my notes. people-watch. make unnecessarily long playlists.”

“i do that too.”

“oh? long playlists?”

“no, the unnecessarily part.”

the conversation drifted, and you found yourself talking about little things, about classes, about family. about why you ended up in university, why you stayed in your head so much.

it was easy. like talking to someone who already understood you, without needing to say everything.

as the party stretched deeper into the night, bodies pressing in every direction and the noise swelling once more, minji glanced your way—and for a fleeting moment, it felt like you were the only two in the world.

“this is the best part of the night,” she said, her eyes soft, almost private. “when it’s quiet. when you’re just…”

“here?” you finished for her.

she nodded.

“yeah,” you said, laughing quietly. “just here.”

minji looked at you like she was trying to memorise your laugh. you looked back like you were trying not to notice.

and maybe the party kept going. maybe the music got louder and the room got fuller and the air got heavier. but here, in this tiny corner of too much everything, the world felt quieter.

it was just you. her. and the apple cider fizzing gently between your fingertips.

the party felt like a blur the next morning—apple cider fizz still tingling on your tongue, minji’s laugh tucked somewhere behind your ribs. you hadn’t stayed late. neither had she. but you’d left together, weaving through the spill of people and laughter like two ghosts slipping out of a dream.

and then, hours later, the dream still clung to your shoulders.

the café smelled like toasted bagels and burnt espresso, the kind of scent that clung to your jumper long after you’d left. minji was already there when you arrived, tucked into the corner seat by the window, hands wrapped around a paper cup.

she looked up, smiled like you were someone she’d been hoping would come.

you tugged at your sleeves, tried not to seem like you’d rushed here.

“morning,” you said, voice still rough around the edges.

“you came,” she said, and it wasn’t teasing—it was soft, almost surprised.

“you asked.”

you ordered something sweet, because you didn’t feel like pretending that morning. she watched you, elbow resting on the table, chin in her palm.

“you always wear that jumper,” she said as you sat.

you glanced down. it was the same one from the party. and the kbbq. and every day since the kbbq.

“you said you liked it.”

she blinked, then smiled wider. “i still do.”

“thanks,” you said. “it’s my favourite now.”

her smile turned sly. “wonder why.”

you looked away, hid your face behind your cup.

minji sat across from you, stirring her drink with a wooden stick, eyes half-lidded with sleep.

"did you not sleep well last night?" you asked, voice still scratchy from lack of sleep.

she cracked one eye open. “am i that obvious?”

“you looked like you lost a fight with your pillow.”

minji snorted. “you should’ve seen the pillow.”

the café was quiet, just a few students nursing hangovers and deadlines. the sunlight spilled through the window, catching on the strands of her hair. there was still a bit of sleep in her eyes, but she was there, and she was real, and she was easy to talk to in the way that most people weren’t.

she told you about her morning routine. you told her about the time hanni mistook salt for sugar in her tea and still pretended it tasted fine out of pride.

you both laughed. people around you faded.

you didn’t realise how much time had passed until she checked the time and muttered, “shit, lit’s in ten.”

you groaned. “we’re not running.”

“we are absolutely running.”

and you didn’t run, not really. it was more like a fast walk that dissolved into laughter halfway through campus. minji complained about the weight of her tote bag. you offered to carry it. she declined.

“it’s full of bad poetry,” she said. “you’ll lose brain cells.”

“so, your writing?”

she gasped. “rude! absolutely unforgivable. i liked you.”

you grinned, breathless as you reached the doors of the lecture hall. she held it open for you.

inside, you both slipped into your usual seats—side by side now. she pulled out her notebook. you tried not to look at the messy stars she’d drawn across the front cover.

professor cho started talking about virginia woolf. you started taking notes. she didn’t. halfway through, she nudged your knee with hers, gently, like punctuation.

you didn’t say anything. just smiled to yourself and kept writing.

it started slow, like a ripple that spread without you even noticing. a missed text. an unspoken word. the kind of quiet that wasn’t peaceful, but suffocating.

you didn’t want to feel it, but you couldn’t stop. the weight of everything you’d been trying to push away suddenly slammed into you—sharp, unforgiving.

it was stupid, really. you'd told yourself you were fine, that you'd moved on. but here you were again, alone in your dorm with your thoughts tangled in things you’d rather forget. memories of your ex fluttered like moths in your mind, whispering soft words you used to hold close.

you didn’t want to stay in your head any longer.

“come on,” hanni’s voice broke through the haze of your thoughts. “we’re going out to another party. you need some air.”

she didn’t give you a choice. before you could even protest, she was dragging you out the door.

you’d almost said no. almost told her you’d rather stay curled up in the silence, but you knew you wouldn’t. you’d rather be anywhere than stuck inside with the ache that made your chest feel heavy.

you pulled on your favourite jumper—the one that had started to feel like a shield, something familiar to hide behind—and followed hanni out into the night.

the party was already in full swing when you arrived. loud, chaotic, people spilling out of every corner, as if everyone on campus had come together to erase whatever was eating at them. you could hear laughter, music, the sound of bodies moving through the night.

hanni slipped away into the crowd, already lost to the night. you didn’t try to find her. instead, you wandered toward the drinks table, eyes scanning the bottles, trying to avoid looking at the brightly coloured cider at the edge.

apple cider.

you would’ve gotten yourself a bottle of it by now and avoid everyone drinking their night away. but grief has a way of picking its own night to show up uninvited. and tonight, it showed up in waves, steady and bitter, like a song you didn’t want to hear but couldn’t turn off.

so you chose to drink your night away too. you grabbed something strong. vodka, maybe? gin? it didn’t matter. it was the burn you needed, the fire that would drown out the ache in your chest.

you didn’t know how much you drank or how quickly. only that it helped, for a while. the warmth in your belly spread through you, making everything feel lighter, like you could float above the crowd instead of being crushed by it.

but it wasn’t enough. nothing would be.

the world swayed around you, and you stumbled through the party, searching for something to hold onto.

your mind felt fuzzy, but there was a clarity in the way everything started to blur. maybe you’d been avoiding this feeling for too long. maybe the alcohol was just the excuse to finally let yourself miss her—to finally admit you hadn’t let go.

you stepped outside, needing the cold air to clear your head, but it didn’t help much. the wind bit at your skin, but the ache inside was worse.

you leaned against the railing of the balcony, the city lights twinkling below like distant stars that didn’t care about your pain. the cold seeped into your bones, but it was better than the suffocating warmth inside.

you didn’t realise someone had followed you until you heard the quiet sound of footsteps behind you.

“y/n?”

you turned, startled. it was minji, standing a few feet away, her eyes wide with confusion.

“what are you doing out here?” she asked softly, her voice barely rising over the distant thrum of the party.

you didn’t really know how to answer. the words felt stuck in your throat, but somehow, they came out anyway.

“i’m drunk,” you said, with a humourless laugh. “didn’t realise how much, but here we are.”

“i thought you hated alcohol,” she said quietly.

you gave a short laugh, sharp and flat. “i do.”

“so why are you drinking it like it's water?”

you didn’t answer right away. didn’t want to. but her voice was gentle, and her hand hovered just close enough to yours that it almost felt like safety.

“i miss someone,” you said eventually. “and i thought if i burned enough of my throat, she’d stop showing up in my head.”

minji didn’t say anything. just stood beside you, solid and warm.

“we broke up a while ago. i never talk about her. doesn’t mean i don’t think about her.”

minji didn’t push you further. she just nodded, her gaze soft, like she was seeing something she didn’t want to but couldn’t look away from.

for a long moment, neither of you spoke. you just stood there, the night wrapping around you, the cold air biting at your skin.

you took a deep breath, swallowing down the lump in your throat. you hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t planned on it, but the words slipped out anyway.

“i miss her so much,” you whispered, barely audible, like the confession itself hurt too much to speak.

minji’s gaze didn’t shift. she didn’t offer some perfect piece of advice. she didn’t tell you to move on or forget. she just stood there, still and quiet, like she was letting you be with your pain for a while.

you leaned a little closer to her, the alcohol still buzzing in your veins, but it wasn’t enough to numb the ache inside.

“your hair smells like fruit punch,” you murmured, your voice soft, almost playful in the midst of everything.

minji blinked, a small smile tugging at her lips. “and you smell like straight up booze,” she replied, her voice a little gentler now, a little warmer.

you laughed, a sound that felt like it had been trapped in your chest for far too long. the tension between you lightened, if only for a moment.

you stayed there for a while, not saying much. minji didn’t rush you. she just let you be, her presence grounding you in a way nothing else could.

“sorry,” you said, but it came out slurred, thick with something too heavy to name.

she stepped closer, arms wrapping around your frame gently, and pulled you into her chest.

“don’t apologise.”

you melted into her without thinking, the world tilting slightly as you clung to her coat like it was the last stable thing left.

“this is pathetic, right?” you muttered into her shoulder. “i don’t even like alcohol. i’m just—”

“you’re hurting,” she said, not unkindly. “people do stupid things when they’re hurting.”

you wanted to believe that. wanted to feel less stupid for chasing a buzz that barely numbed the ache.

finally, she sighed and pushed herself away from the railing. “i should get back inside. hanni’s probably looking for you.”

you nodded, not ready to let go but knowing she had to leave. she hesitated for a moment, then looked at you with a soft smile.

“don’t stay out here too long, yeah?”

you didn’t answer. just watched as she disappeared back into the party, leaving you alone with your thoughts again, the cold air mixing with the still-throbbing ache in your chest.

the party raged on inside, but here, out on the balcony, there was only the quiet, and the faint scent of fruit punch lingering in the air.

you were lying flat on your back, staring at the cracks in the ceiling like they meant something. the room spun around you in slow, deliberate circles, and your head throbbed with a pressure so sharp it made you want to cry. you weren’t sure how you got back to the dorm—just remembered your feet dragging you across campus, one hand pressed to the wall for balance, heart like a stone in your chest.

hanni was asleep now, curled into her bed across the room, soft breathing barely audible above the faint buzz in your ears. the clock glowed dimly from the desk—12:03am—its numbers blinking like they were mocking you.

your mouth was dry. your body felt heavy. and yet your mind was wide awake, buzzing like it’d been hooked to something electric.

you missed minji.

you missed her more than you’d expected to. and it wasn’t just the party or the alcohol or the cold of the balcony—it was something else. something worse. the kind of missing that made your chest ache. the kind of missing that came from a place deeper than you wanted to admit.

earlier, you couldn’t stop thinking about your ex. all you’d wanted was to drown her memory in alcohol and parties and blurred faces. but now, all you could think about was minji. her eyes in the dark. her soft laugh. the way she didn’t try to fix you, just stood beside you like she belonged there.

and you didn’t even like her that much.

wait.

your eyes fluttered shut, jaw slack.

wait, you do. fuck.

you liked her. or something like it. maybe it wasn’t full-blown love or anything dramatic. but it was something. and it was real enough to press itself into your ribs and make a home there, uninvited and warm.

your hand fumbled for your phone on the floor beside your mattress. it slipped from your fingers once, hit the ground with a dull thud, and you stifled a laugh. everything felt too loud. too quiet. too much.

the screen lit up. you scrolled through your contacts, blinking until the letters stopped blurring. minji. right there.

your thumb hovered for a second. then you pressed call.

it rang once. twice. three times. then—click.

“hello?” her voice was soft. groggy. like you had pulled her out of sleep.

you blinked up at the ceiling, lips parting slowly. “minji,” you whispered, the name sweet on your tongue. “hi.”

“y/n?” she sounded surprised. there was a beat of silence. “are you okay?”

“mm,” you hummed, shifting onto your side. “i dunno.”

another pause. she stayed on the line, waiting.

“do you remember the party?” you asked, voice thick and slow. “the balcony?”

“yeah,” she said gently.

“i liked that. with you,” you mumbled. “you make me feel... better. not good. but better.”

you heard her smile through the phone. “you’re drunk.”

“i know,” you admitted, giggling a little. “but i mean it. i think... maybe we should give this thing a try.”

there was silence. long enough that you almost forgot what you’d said. then her soft laugh filtered through the line like a song you half-remembered.

“oh, y/n,” she said, fond and amused. “you’re really drunk, huh?”

you frowned. “no i’m not. i mean yes. but i’m serious.”

she sighed, but it wasn’t annoyed—it was something closer to affectionate. “go to sleep, idiot,” she murmured. “we’ll talk in the morning.”

“okay,” you whispered, eyelids growing heavier.

“goodnight, y/n.”

“night, minji.”

the call ended, and the phone slipped from your hand.

you lay there in the dark, heart loud and messy in your chest, warmth curling behind your ribs. the alcohol dulled everything except this—the echo of her voice, the way she said your name, the way she didn’t hang up until she was sure you’d be alright.

you didn’t know what you were doing.

but you were starting to hope minji did.

you woke up with a headache that felt biblical.

your mouth was dry, your limbs sore, and your phone was tangled somewhere in your sheets like a ghost of last night. when you opened your eyes, the light leaking through the window burned straight through your skull.

hanni was gone. her bed was made, neat and untouched like she’d barely slept. maybe she hadn’t. you weren’t sure what time it was—somewhere past morning, judging by the brightness—but your body hadn’t adjusted yet. everything still felt sticky and slow.

you didn't remember walking back.

but you remembered the balcony and the way minji had looked at you like she wasn’t trying to understand you, just trying to be there. 

you remembered calling her at midnight. you remembered the words slipping out of your mouth like they’d been waiting there for hours—i think we should give this thing a try. you remembered the way she laughed.

and now she wasn’t saying anything.

you hadn’t checked your phone yet. part of you was scared to. another part already knew—there would be no message. no call back. no follow-up.

and when you did see her—because of course you would—you both pretended.

she met you outside your literature lecture, same as always, clutching a warm bottle of apple cider she must’ve grabbed on the way. she smiled. casual. easy. like the night before didn’t happen. like you didn’t say something that changed everything.

“you look like hell,” she said, nudging your arm gently.

you forced a smile. “i feel worse.”

she passed you her cup. “drink. helps with the hangover.”

you took a sip. it was sweet, slightly spiced, and warm against your cold insides. you handed it back wordlessly. she didn’t say anything about the party. or the phone call. or the way your voice cracked when you said minji last night.

you walked together across campus, shoes crunching over gravel, the trees bare and bending in the wind. your hands brushed once. neither of you moved away.

during your literature lecture, she sat beside you—close enough for your knees to touch. her notes were neat and clean, and she underlined things in light green. you couldn’t focus. not really. the professor’s voice was a blur, and your mind kept drifting—kept coming back to what you said.

“let’s give this thing a try.”

you’d meant it. you were drunk, but you meant it. even now, even with your body still sore and your heart still crawling its way out of the dark, you knew it was true.

but she didn’t say anything. and you didn’t ask.

you left the lecture hall in silence. the sky above was cloudy, pale and low. she walked beside you like she always did, like nothing had changed. and maybe it hadn’t. maybe it was always going to be this—almost something.

almost.

you passed by a group of people you both knew, talking loudly about another party next week. someone mentioned cider, someone else mentioned kisses under stairwells. you felt minji glance at you, just for a second, then look away.

you wanted to scream. you wanted to pull her aside and ask her what she thought. if it meant anything. if it was real, even a little. but your mouth stayed shut.

and so did hers.

later, she touched your arm as you parted ways.

“rest up, yeah?” she said. “you still look like death.”

“thanks,” you muttered, deadpan. “that’s sweet.”

her grin came slow. soft. but there was something behind it. something small and guarded and unreadable.

you wanted to say, talk to me about it. you wanted to ask, why won’t you bring it up?

but you just nodded. turned around. walked back to your dorm where hanni had left a half-eaten sandwich on your desk and a sticky note that said drink water u absolute idiot with three underlines.

you sat on your bed, stared at your phone again. still no new messages. and in the silence, you wondered if pretending meant it would all go away. but it didn’t.

the memory stayed—her laugh, the balcony, your voice at midnight, her silence now.

and you could feel it—ticking beneath your skin, ready to explode.

you never brought it up. neither did she.

the words still sat in the space between you, waiting like they had nowhere else to be. but the longer you pretended they weren’t there, the harder they were to ignore.

minji had started acting… different. not in ways you could really point at. just—softer. warmer.

you noticed it in the way she waited for you after class now, not just outside the door but all the way down the corridor, pretending she just happened to be walking that way. in the way she offered you half her snacks even when she only had two. in the way her eyes lingered just a little longer on your face when you spoke.

and today, she’d asked if you wanted to sit outside after your lecture.

the sun was out but the wind was sharp, and the grass was a little damp, but you said yes anyway.

 minji didn’t mind. she just dropped her canvas tote onto the ground and sat down cross-legged, patting the space beside her.

so you sat. and for a while, neither of you said anything.

birds chirped overhead. your shoes brushed lightly together. minji tipped her face up to the sky, eyes closed.

“your hair’s a bit messy,” she said quietly.

you looked at her, startled. “what?”

she turned to you and reached out, fingers brushing over your fringe, tucking a few strands behind your ear. “there,” she murmured. “fixed.”

your skin burned where she’d touched you.

“you’ve got nice hair,” she added, a little more casually this time, as if she hadn’t just short-circuited your whole nervous system.

you didn’t know what to say to that. you were still trying to recover from her fingers brushing against your cheek.

“thanks,” you said, and hoped your voice didn’t sound too breathless.

minji smiled at the grass like she hadn’t noticed anything. “you’re welcome.”

you tried not to look at her lips. you tried not to think about how close you were sitting. you failed.

the wind lifted a corner of your sleeve and she gently tugged it back into place. you were cold, and she must’ve noticed, because a few moments later she offered her jacket wordlessly, holding it out with both hands.

you stared at her. 

 “i’m fine,” you said, voice quieter than before.

“you’re shivering,” she said. “take it.”

you took it. you wore it.

it smelled like the faint sweetness of her shampoo with a subtle floral smell to it too.

you sat like that, talking about nothing and everything. you talked about the way you hated your 9am’s,the girl in your literature class who always showed up late and still answered every question, the weird fake duck near the campus fountain. normal things. friendly things.

but every time her arm bumped yours, every time she laughed and leaned a little closer, it didn’t feel like just friends. it felt like standing on a cliff, toes curling over the edge.

and maybe she knew that. maybe she was waiting for you to say something again.

but you were still scared. scared of what it would mean to let yourself fall. scared of how soft she made the world feel. scared of what might happen if you told her again—and this time she didn’t laugh.

so you stayed there. shoulder to shoulder. her jacket wrapped around you. the silence between you humming, like static in your chest.

you didn’t know why you kept saying yes to hanni’s invitations—to the music, to the rooms filled with too many voices and too many people and the throb of the bass in your ribs. you told yourself it wasn’t the parties that drew you in. wasn’t the alcohol either—god, never again. not the chaos or the sweat or the smoke curling in other people’s lungs.

no. you knew what it was. you knew who it was.

because no matter where the party was, no matter how late it started or how tired you felt beforehand, you always found minji there. perched somewhere quiet—on the edge of a couch, crouched on the stairs, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her back against the wall. and always with a bottle of apple cider in her hands.

you were drawn to her like tides to the moon.

tonight was no different. you spotted her in the corner of someone’s too-big lounge, the party bleeding around her in shades of red and purple and half-spilled drinks. her hair was tucked behind one ear, soft fringe resting just above her lashes.

you didn’t even think twice. you walked straight over and sat beside her.

“hey,” you said.

she looked at you and smiled. “hey.”

you let the silence sit for a while. it wasn’t awkward. it never was, not with her. but tonight, the air between you buzzed a little more like something wanted to be said.

and it was minji who said it.

 “so…” she began, fingers curling around her bottle, “about that night. the call.”

you blinked. oh.

“you were drunk,” she added gently. “but you said you wanted to give this thing a try.”

you looked at your knees. “i don’t remember saying that.”

what a lie. you remembered every word.

she didn’t call you out on it.

“i like being close to you,” minji said, almost shy. “i like us. like… this. but i don’t know if i want a relationship right now.”

your heart dropped and stuttered. but you caught it and forced your voice into something cool and steady.

“good,” you said, a little too fast. “i don’t even like you that much.”

you didn’t look at her—couldn’t—because that wasn’t true. because it was easier to lie than admit how badly you wanted her.

minji hummed. she didn’t sound convinced, but she let it go.

“what if we just… i don’t know. stayed friends. but, like, closer?”

you turned to her slowly. “closer?”

she nodded, cheeks pink from either the cider or the nerves. “friends with benefits?” she said.

your mouth opened. then closed. then opened again.

 “how would that even work?”

she shrugged, smiling small.

 “we hang out like always. hold hands sometimes. maybe… maybe kiss too?”

your throat went dry. “kiss?”

“only if you want,” she said quickly, eyes wide. “i mean—it’s just an idea. like—i don’t want to make things weird—”

you leaned in and you kissed her.

she tasted like apple cider and lightning caught in glass—sweet, sharp, fleeting. her lips were soft, deliberate, far too careful for something that should've stayed careless.

minji held your face like a secret, not a sin. her thumb ghosted over your cheek before she kissed you again, slow and aching, like she'd dreamt of this and never dared to speak it.

when you pulled away, your chest was thudding.

minji laughed breathlessly. “so… that’s a yes, then?”

you nodded, trying not to look too dazed.

 “yeah. totally. yes. friends.”

“with benefits.”

“yeah. that too.”

you both sat back, side by side, faces warm. someone in the room whooped as a new song came on. someone else knocked over a bottle. but all you could hear was the way your pulse tripped over itself when minji reached down and laced her fingers through yours like it was the most normal thing in the world.

this was fine. this was totally fine.

just friends. just kissing. just… whatever this was.

the next morning felt too normal.

sunlight spilled across the shared dorm like it hadn’t witnessed a kiss that wasn’t supposed to feel the way it did. you rolled over in your bed, the ache in your chest gentle but present. hanni was already gone for class, her side of the room neatly made, her books stacked like soldiers.

you stayed in bed for a while, eyes tracing the patterns of light on the ceiling.

you were friends with benefits now. whatever that meant.

the words sounded too clinical for what had happened last night. for the way minji had held your face in her hands like you were something to be cradled, not consumed. for the way her thumb had brushed your cheek before she kissed you again.

you got up. you dressed. you told yourself you wouldn’t overthink it.

then you saw her.

on the lawn, by the trees near the old library. she sat in the sun like she belonged to it. when she looked up and smiled, you forgot what it meant to breathe right.

you walked over, your pulse flickering in your wrists.

 “hey,” you said, settling beside her on the grass.

“hey,” she echoed, eyes trailing over your face.

 she didn’t say anything else. not at first.

you sat there for a moment. the breeze tugged gently at your jumper and ruffled your hair.

minji reached out, fingers brushing a strand of hair from your cheek.

 “your hair’s kind of messy today.”

“i just woke up.”

she hummed. “it’s cute.”

you didn’t know what to say to that. your throat closed around words that didn’t exist yet.

“so,” you said, pretending the grass between your fingers was more interesting than her mouth. “are we really doing this?”

“doing what?” she asked, teasing.

you gave her a look. she gave you one right back.

“we said we’d try,” she said softly. “being friends. but closer.”

you glanced at her. “it already feels… close.”

minji tilted her head.

 “too close?”

you weren’t sure what the right answer was.

“no,” you said. “just enough.”

she smiled again, quiet and unreadable. you wondered if she felt the way you did—like everything between you was edged with something soft and dangerous.

you talked for a while. about class. about hanni’s awful taste in cereal. about how minji was convinced she saw a ghost in the humanities building once.

and the whole time, her hand sat too close to yours on the grass.

not touching. but not not touching.

and every time you looked at her, your chest did that strange fluttery thing again.

you told yourself it didn’t mean anything.

it was just part of the arrangement. just a benefit.

the problem with feelings was that they never stayed hidden for long. not in university halls where voices echoed, where glances lingered too obviously, where everyone had too much time to notice the small things.

like the way you and minji always found each other in a room. like the way her hand brushed your back when she passed behind you. like how you always sat too close. smiled too easily.

you weren’t dating. you weren’t even really… anything.

just friends. just friends who kissed sometimes.

“you guys act like a couple.”

the words came from someone across the lunch table. you didn’t even catch who said it. one of hanni’s friends maybe. someone who’d seen you and minji sharing a laugh over shared fries and a shared bottle of apple cider.

you laughed, out of instinct. so did minji.

but her smile faltered.

you saw it. the small break in her expression. the way her eyes shifted away from yours.

“we’re not,” she said, brushing crumbs off her lap. “just close, that’s all.”

you nodded like it was obvious. like your heart hadn’t just dropped to your stomach.

when the topic shifted and laughter bubbled around you again, you stayed quiet. minji leaned back in her chair, cool and composed, but she wouldn’t meet your eyes.

you both knew it didn’t feel like friendship.

not when her pinky brushed yours under the table and your breath caught. not when her perfume clung to your clothes hours after she’d gone. not when she said your name in that soft voice she only used for you.

it was maddening.

you walked back to your dorm alone later. hanni had peeled off to get a smoothie, minji had waved goodbye like nothing was strange.

but it was strange.

you were friends. you weren’t supposed to crave her hand in yours. you weren’t supposed to look at her and wonder if she thought about kissing you again.

you weren’t supposed to want more.

but you did. god, you did.

and that terrified you.

you curled into your bed that night, blanket pulled up to your chin, eyes burning holes into the ceiling.

your phone buzzed once— a text from minji:

u home safe?

you stared at it for a long time before typing back:

yeah thanks

you didn’t add a heart. you didn’t say you missed her. but the thought clung to you like smoke.

you missed her in the space between one minute and the next. you missed her like she was already slipping away.

you were just waiting for hanni outside the café when he walked up to you. button-down shirt, too much cologne, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

you didn’t know his name. probably had a literature class together. maybe he’d seen you sit next to minji.

“hey,” he said, leaning on the low brick wall. “you’re y/n, right?”

you nodded, polite. “yeah?”

“i’ve seen you around. you’re in dr. choi’s module?”

you nodded again. he smiled like he’d already won.

“i was wondering…” he tilted his head, voice dropping a little, “are you free this saturday?”

you blinked. you weren’t expecting that. you glanced past his shoulder like hanni might save you, but she wasn’t there yet.

you opened your mouth to respond—

“she’s not,” came a voice beside you.

minji.

she stepped forward, calm but sharp around the edges. her eyes didn’t leave his.

 “she’s not free. not saturday. not ever.”

you stared. so did the guy.

“who the hell are you?” he asked, scoffing. “her secretary?”

minji didn’t flinch. instead, she turned to you, grabbed your hand gently and kissed you.

right on the lips. firm. soft. sure. like she meant it.

your heart shot up to your throat. your knees went weak.

when she pulled away, she turned back to him.

 “i’m her girlfriend,” she said.

he sputtered something under his breath, rolled his eyes, and walked away.

your hand was still in hers.

minji let go the second he disappeared around the corner. you were left standing there, stunned, your lips tingling, your thoughts scattered.

“…what the fuck was that?” you managed.

she shrugged, brushing hair behind her ear. “you looked uncomfortable.”

“so you kissed me?”

“like we haven't done that before. and it worked, didn’t it?” she said, too casual. but her eyes flicked away, like she couldn’t hold your gaze.

you stepped closer.  “minji.”

“what?”

“you told him you were my girlfriend.”

another shrug. “he wouldn’t have left otherwise.”

“but—”

“it didn’t mean anything,” she said quickly. “just a way to get him to back off.”

the words landed with a strange thud in your chest.

right. it didn’t mean anything. except it did. it meant something to you.

you could still feel the heat of her lips on yours. you could still taste her and something soft and warm you couldn’t name.

and you weren’t sure if you were more hurt or hopeful.

you didn’t talk about the kiss. not once.

not the way her lips fit against yours like they’d always meant to be there. not the way her voice softened when she said girlfriend.

no one brought it up. not minji, not you. the tension that had pulsed under your skin for days seemed to… fade.

you were just friends again. 

except she held your hand more often now. and she brushed her fingers against yours when you walked side by side. she would sit too close on the grass behind the library, your knees brushing as she passed you her half-empty can of apple cider.

except she laughed at things you didn’t even realise were funny. except her voice in the morning sounded like it was meant only for you.

the parties still came and went, lights blurring in your memory, music pulsing in your ears. but you stayed sober now. so did she—always sitting in some quiet corner, sipping the same warm cider, watching the world spin a little too fast.

you didn’t kiss again. not even once.

you didn’t need to. not when you shared everything else.

she asked about your coursework, your dreams, your favourite memories from childhood. you told her about your dog who once chewed through your school shoes and the way your mum used to sing in the kitchen when it rained. 

she told you about late summer bike rides and how she couldn’t sleep unless she had her window cracked open a little.

you didn’t mind how close you sat, how her shoulder brushed against yours when you read together on the library steps, or how your hands lingered for a moment longer than necessary when you passed her something.

she made you laugh until your cheeks ached. she knew when you needed silence. she touched your wrist when you zoned out in lectures, just lightly, enough to bring you back.

and sometimes you caught yourself staring. watching the way she tapped her pen against her notes. watching the way the sunlight curved around her face like even the day was in love with her.

it hurt. not sharply. not the way your ex did, tearing through you like glass. this was duller—a quiet ache. because you knew this might be as far as you’d ever get. close, but not quite.

you’d never get to call her yours. you’d never kiss her just because you felt like it. you’d never know what it was like to love her out loud.

but she was here. she was your friend. she sat beside you, sometimes with her head on your shoulder.

and that was enough. you told yourself it was. you had her in this soft, in-between way. not a lover, but not nothing either.

you could talk to her about anything, from the stupid details of your day to the things you’d never say to anyone else. you could laugh with her, walk with her, sit with her.

and yet, you never could quite shake the feeling that the two of you weren’t really allowed to be anything more. every touch, every shared moment, felt like an unspoken agreement: this was all it could be.

sometimes you’d catch her looking at you, too. with that soft expression you couldn’t place. and you’d wonder if she felt the same pull in her chest, the same ache that curled low in your stomach. but it never came up—not once—and you were fine with that. you kept telling yourself you were fine with that.

it was enough to be close to her—to have her in your life, no matter how it was framed.

but every now and then, the thought would creep in, quiet but insistent — what if? what if she wanted more? what if you were just too afraid to admit it?

you didn’t have answers. you didn’t need to.

because for now, it was enough. and maybe that was all you could ask for.

you didn’t even want to be at the party. but there you were. the music thumped under your skin, same as always. the lights were too bright, the bodies pressed too close. but it was warm, and minji was there, and that was enough.

she found you almost instantly. or maybe you found her—you weren’t sure anymore. it always felt like the two of you drifted together by some invisible string.

“come on,” she said, nudging your elbow. “let’s do something stupid.”

you raised an eyebrow. “define stupid.”

minji grinned, eyes glittering like she’d swallowed stars. “we try actual alcohol.”

you stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “you hate alcohol.”

“so do you.”

“exactly.”

“but,” she said, holding up two little red cups filled with something suspicious and vaguely fizzy, “we hate it together.”

you laughed despite yourself. “fine. one sip.”

you clinked your cups like it was something to celebrate.

and then you both drank. and immediately gagged.

“oh my god—” you coughed, fanning your mouth. “that tastes like petrol and regret.”

minji was wheezing beside you, her face scrunched in pure betrayal. “what the hell was that?”

you wiped your mouth with your sleeve, nose wrinkled. “now how in the hell did i get drunk drinking this?”

“that’s what i’m saying. how did you manage to drink this stuff?” she asked, still making a face.

you nodded, leaning your weight against the counter behind you. “i was alone and heartbroken. leave me alone.”

minji turned to you slowly, lips quirking. “if i leave you, you’re gonna be alone and heartbroken again?”

you blinked, caught off-guard.

the party around you blurred, faded, muffled into nothing.

you looked at her—at the soft curl of her mouth and the way her eyes searched yours with something unreadable.

 you swallowed.

“who said you had my heart in your hands?”

“do i?” she asked, almost too quiet.

“yeah,” you said. simple. truth.

she tilted her head, lips parted. “i thought you didn’t like me that much.”

you breathed out a shaky laugh. “well,” you muttered, “i’m a lying liar who lies. what do you want from me?”

minji stepped closer, and the space between you folded in on itself.

her voice was barely a whisper now. “a kiss?”

you didn’t answer. you didn’t need to.

you leaned in, met her halfway, and kissed her.

it wasn’t messy. it wasn’t frantic. it was soft, sure—like it was always supposed to happen.

her hand found the side of your neck, thumb brushing your jaw like she was afraid you’d disappear. you felt her smile against your mouth, and something warm bloomed in your chest.

it didn’t feel platonic. it didn’t feel casual.

it felt real. too real.

you pulled back first, blinking, trying to catch your breath.

minji was still close, her forehead nearly resting against yours.

neither of you said anything for a moment. then she laughed. quietly. breathlessly. and reached over to steal your untouched bottle of apple cider from the counter.

“let’s never do shots again.”

you nodded. “agreed.”

and maybe the world was still spinning, and the music was still too loud, but suddenly you didn’t care.

because she kissed you. and you kissed her back.

and maybe you were both liars. but this? this felt true.

the tension was unbearable. like walking through air thick with smoke—clinging to your skin, caught in your throat, leaving you breathless without even knowing why.

you were still doing it. still pretending you didn’t care. still smiling like everything was fine when the weight of everything unsaid pressed into your ribcage like a bruise.

minji hadn’t kissed you in days. she held your hand still. sat close. sent you little playlists at night and laughed at your stupid jokes like she always had. but there was space between her sentences now.

you felt it before you could name it—the shift—like something slipping between your fingers and you didn’t realise you were holding it until it was almost gone.

minji hadn’t grown cold. not exactly. but she was the slightest bit distant now—like her thoughts had moved just a little too far for you to reach. like every smile she gave you was wrapped in hesitation.

and maybe you were the same. maybe the weight of pretending had worn you both thin. maybe the silence between you wasn’t easy anymore—maybe it never really was.

“are you gonna lose another girl because you’re too scared to admit you care?”

hanni had said it casually, half-curled under her blanket, scrolling through her phone like she hadn’t just lobbed a grenade into your chest.

you froze. she didn’t mean to sound harsh. but she was right.

minji wasn’t your ex. she wasn’t the same kind of heartbreak. but she could be, if you let her slip away.

and tonight—no party, no loud music, no crowd pressing in around you—you realised how heavy the quiet could be.

just you. just minji. two bottles of cider on your desk. and a single lamp painting the room in warm gold.

you were curled up on your bed, knees pulled to your chest, while minji sat cross-legged on the floor, her back to your dresser. she looked tired. but not in a way sleep could fix.

“we haven’t talked in a while,” you said softly.

“we talk all the time,” she said, almost teasing.

“not really.”

and there it was. the truth sitting between you, unsaid.

she stared at her bottle. tilted it in slow circles.

 “yeah,” she murmured. “you’re right.”

you wanted to say something clever. something that would lighten the air or make her smile. but the truth pressed against your ribs, and this time, you didn’t push it down.

“i’m scared,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “i was so sure i couldn’t feel anything after her. after what happened. but then you showed up. and now i don’t know how to feel. or how not to.”

minji didn’t shift away. she didn’t even blink. just asked, softly, “do you still miss her?”

you closed your eyes.

 “not the way i miss you when you're quiet for too long.”

minji breathed out. it sounded like a sigh and a laugh at the same time.

 “you’re an idiot,” she said gently. “you kept saying you didn’t even like me that much.”

“i lied.”

minji looked up.

“i kept telling myself it was nothing. that i didn’t like you that much. but that wasn’t true. it was never true.”

 you swallowed. “i just didn’t want to lose you.”

she was quiet for a long while. then—

“me too,” she said.

you blinked.

“i didn’t want to lose you either,” she went on. “you were still grieving someone else, and i didn’t want to get in the way of that. and maybe it was easier to just pretend, like… friends. no feelings. no risk.”

 she gave a small laugh. “but we suck at pretending, don’t we?”

you nodded. your throat ached.

“i kept thinking,” she said, “that if i didn’t say anything, we’d stay fine. that we’d stay close. but it hurt anyway. even when we were holding hands or sharing a bed or laughing like idiots at 2am… it hurt.”

you shifted to the edge of the bed, leaning your arms on your knees. minji looked at you, and you looked back, and this time there was no running. no pretending.

“i think i liked you from the start. i just… i didn’t want to ruin it.”

minji’s eyes flicked down. then up. her voice was careful. “you didn’t ruin it.”

you waited. and then—finally—she said, “even if we’re just friends… we could be more than that.”

you exhaled. like the whole world had been holding its breath and finally let go.

you slid off the bed and sat beside her on the floor.

you didn’t kiss her—you didn’t reach for her in that way. you just leaned in, close enough that your foreheads touched. close enough to hear her heart. close enough to stay.

and you did—you stayed.

you stayed like that. just breathing. just being.

just figuring it out.

[mamayan]

oof your writing is so good 🙈 if your requests are open, would you be willing to write smth for dabi with a nervous virgin reader? Maybe some fingering and petting, lots of praise and encouragement if you're okay with that!! I also wouldn't mind if theres a little dubcon scattered in there for flavour😳 Thank you!🙏

Fuck it’s his favorite— absolutely I will Nonnie♥️ Dabi is nothing if not the perfect gentlemen… sorta. Am I gonna get sued for changing his words in this manga panel? I got carried away with this lol

Yandere Dabi x Virgin! Darling

tw: NSFW • Fem! Darling • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Implied Mental/Emotional/Physical Abuse • Dubcon • Praise • Virgin! Darling • BDSM • Fingering • Oral • Sex (M)(F) • Denial/Edging • Overstimulation • Dacryphilia • Unprotected Sex • Creampie

The front door slammed loud enough to reverberate around the apartment.

You sat facing the small tv, the screen playing some sort of cartoon with the volume on low, unmoving even as the thuds of his boots against vinyl faux wood flooring became louder. You were curled around your legs, pulled to your chest as your bare feet seemed to absorb the cold around you, icy skin keeping you grounded. Only a thin ratty oversized t-shirt and tiny shorts covering your body, despite the broken thermostat keeping the apartment at almost freezing temperatures.

Dark combat boots entered your field of vision, you numbly let your eyes flick up to take him in. He smelled like cigarette smoke and whiskey, the burning scent making acid bubble up in your stomach to your throat, but you meekly swallowed it down and gave a wobbly smile. “W-welcome home…” it was said with all the enthusiasm of a man walking towards his execution.

He crouches down to face you better, forearms resting on his knees as he levels you with a… soft look.

It has chills shooting down your spine, your stomach rolling and clenching while your chest heaves with anxiety. He’s not a soft man. He’s never been soft, not really, only in strange sporadic moments does he gently do anything to you, but it’s always followed by something sinister. Always.

“Hey pet, you cold?” He’s sadistic and cruel even on a good day. His words immediately making your eyes burn as you try to stop the impending tears. You’re always cold, left freezing locked up until his return, your only source of comfort and warmth him. It was a nasty play, logically you knew it, but logic was what got you hurt so you nodded despite the itch in your heart begging you to hold out a little longer. “M’cold…” you assent, unable to see the defeated dull look in your own eyes, but he could.

“C’mere then,” his smile is so sweet, his staples hardly pulling and his usually vibrant eyes more subdued and gentle. You wanted him to stop whatever game he’s playing now. Whatever sick trick he’s got hidden to make your walls crumble around you. His arms spread open, his knees hitting the floor so he could straighten his spine, and his embrace looking so warm.

Like selling your soul to the devil, you caved. Pathetically nearly falling as you all but threw yourself into him.

The fire wielding psychopath was a lot of things, and sadly running warmer than a normal person was one of them. Just being close to him was like sitting near a furnace, heat radiating off him in waves it seemed. You had all the time in the world to hate yourself when he inevitably left you again to nearly freeze, for now you focused on getting feeling back into your limbs as you pressed yourself as close as possible.

His chuckle is breathy as he wraps you up easily, pulling you into his lap as he sits back on his ass now, your thighs on either side of his to let you be as physically close as possible. Well, almost as physically close as possible, because when you were so desperate for his touch like this, it’s hard not to think about you begging for him to really warm you up.

“Better?” He doesn’t really need to ask, not when you’re fighting to keep your hands from digging under his shirt and getting more body heat from him. Your little sigh of contentment adorable, and while his day was mundane, he did get to release most of his pent up frustration on some lowlife pieces of shit. He was in a good mood, but he’d be in a better one soon.

“Hn” your little affirmation quiet as you rested your cheek against the exposed skin of his collarbone, breathing him in and relaxing as your stiff muscles and joints soaked his warmth up greedily. You didn’t even fight when his hands began to smooth over your skin, up your calves and thighs to your ass where he gave a little squeeze. You put up no resistance, no screaming or fighting tonight it seemed. “You still cold?” His lips are right are by your ear, warm breath blowing over it and sending a shiver of something… different down to your stomach. The stale cigarette scent wasn’t as bothersome to you when he wasn’t being mean it seemed.

You let him pet and stroke your skin, warming you up gradually and shifting you both around until your core was against his stomach and he was flat on his back. He even lifted up his shirt and your own a bit to give more contact, the staples across his chest smoother than you’d initially thought.

This was all wrong and you were without a doubt being soothed into… something. Peace? A sense of safety? Whatever it was, you mentally kept yourself prepared. Even if his touch was soft and careful, you knew what lurked behind those pretty eyes.

“You stopped shakin’…” his observation was more of a statement, but indeed you had warmed up enough not to shiver anymore. He wasn’t usually so nice as to help warm you up like this, usually making you drop to your knees and cling to him while he heckled your behavior.

Your world flipped too quickly to react. Your back now on the cool floor with his body looming over you.

“You’re still cold though, aren’t you pet?” His smile isn’t nice anymore.

“D-Dabi please…”

“What’s wrong, you don’t want me to warm you up anymore?” It was a thinly veiled threat that had you nearly delirious with panic in seconds.

“N-no I do! I do, please don’t stop!” Your pretty eyes filling with tears made him bite down hard on his tongue, tasting blood as he struggles to keep himself calm. It’s you after all. You weren’t some cheap whore he screwed for a quick release. You were his.

That meant something. Whether it was good or bad was debatable and complicated.

“Then let me warm you up, it’ll be faster like this,” he’s not lying. Even as he laughs at the confusion and waring emotions on your face, he really isn’t lying to you this time.

His lips aren’t soft. The kiss nothing like the ones you’d sneakily shared with a crush under the school bleachers, that kiss was a bit too wet and slimy. This one was commanding. His tongue easily slipping into your mouth in your shock, happy to invade and taste you, to share the overwhelming taste of tobacco. Your hands are tangled in his coat, tugging lightly on the fabric as he devours your mouth. He pulls back when you start to struggle, and the sight of your swollen parted lips has his pants uncomfortably tight. His zipper digging into his cock now.

“Dabi—,” your voice is barely even a whisper, almost inaudible but he catches it and pauses as he looks down at you carefully.

The fact that he’s even being careful should be considered as a mercy.

“Please be gentle…” your lips twist into a grimace, the lame line the only thing your muddled mind can conjure. His snort of amusement not helping your wounded pride, but as he shrugs his coat off and looks down at you, his words give you pause.

“I’m going to make you forget everything bad tonight pet.”

He doesn’t elaborate. You don’t need him to. You don’t want this. It doesn’t matter though, because you never wanted any of this. His sanity not even in question, because he’s clearly out of his damn mind and has been for quite a while.

His shirt is next, revealing his chest in the dim light of the tv still playing quietly, the words not even registering as a language you understood. The damaged flesh leathery and colored a dark purple in contrast to his healthy skin. You lay limp and almost defeated beneath him, watch as his hands deftly remove your own shirt, and while it’s not the first time he’s seen you naked… this would be the first he’s touched you so intimately. Your breasts exposed to the cool air harden quickly, his smile predatory as he leans over your chest to flick one with his tongue.

The sensation shoots straight to your pussy.

“Pretty little pet, are you scared?” His question is rhetorical, but you hate how he just seems to know your thoughts and feelings. So much so you wanted to ask if he hide a second quirk. In a last act of defiance, you shake your head. You are scared, terrified of what else there even is to lose because this evil man seems determined to take and have all of you. He’s insatiable for whatever you have, like a vampire taking the life right out of you. Except he won’t kill you, even if sometimes you wished he would. To end this game.

“Pfft, you look so serious,” his face is filled with only hunger and amusement, as he lets his rough palms rest over your breasts, squeezing lightly as he lets himself just take you in. His hands drag over your much softer skin, looking at the odd scar here and there left by his flames during the early days of your readjustment period. He lets one hand rest just over the mound of your pussy, still covered by the thin shorts that hardly covered anything. He’s quiet, and so are you, as you breathe and struggle to stay still for whatever this was. You imagined it to be more violent, less pathetic on your end, as if you’d given up without a fight.

Your tears of frustration finally broke and trailed down your cheeks, your brows furrowed and cheeks puffed as you try to stay silent and uphold whatever amount of dignity you had left. You wouldn’t beg him to stop, it only spurred him on. When his eyes looked back up, the image of you nearly drove him feral as he grinned, giddy with excitement in lieu of you crying. His snicker of approval only making you flinch back as his fingers hook inside the waist band of the shorts and your underwear.

“Keep crying pet. Maybe a hero will come to save you?” His words drip sarcasm as he now roughly yanks your bottoms down and off your body in one swift motion. You’re left completely nude and shivering as the cold seeps back into your body as you lay on the floor. “I don’t think any heroes even patrol this side of town anymore. Too dirty and messy, they can’t be bothered to save people here. So I guess that leaves just you n’me.” He’s not looking at your face, though he’d be elated to see the look of crushed hope painting your features, instead his eyes were trained on your tightly shut thighs. The soft skin a bit distorted from how hard you squeezed them closed. His dark hair falling a bit into his gaze as he easily digs his fingers roughly into your flesh to pry them open.

“Hii!” You cry of pain and shock adorable to his eyes as he gets an eye full in the dim light of your wet pussy.

“Better keep these spread pet, if I gotta open them again for you, I’ll give you a real reason to cry.” His eyes are fierce and foreboding as they meet your gaze, and fear keeps you compliant as you obey and keep your legs open where he left them. He smiles in approval, humming to himself as he begins to undo his belt and open up his pants.

He shifts to one handedly yanking his pants down to free his aching cock, his free hand moving to his open mouth to layer on his own saliva to his fingers. The wet digits brought to your pussy as you whimper, gently spreading your folds and admiring it as he grips his hard cock in his hand. You make the mistake of looking at it.

He’s covered in piercings. His cock long and thick, more so in the middle, with a slight upward curve… but there’s two distinct barbs through his dick on both sides, with the tip sporting one prominent one that had you wanting to disobey and close your legs anyway. It looked frightful and painful if anything else, and you briefly wondered if he did this to ensure his victims were thoroughly tormented at every step.

“Fuck look at you baby, so pretty like this aren’t you?” He’s gently poking and circling your clit, loving each little scared gasp and unsure look you shoot his way. He can tell it feels good for you, but with the uncertainty and fear factor of his looks and his cock, you’re wound tight in apprehension. He thinks it’s a beautiful sight on you. Your little sniffles and pouty lips captivate him into leaning over you again, licking your lips until you open and let him kiss you again. It’s languid and lazy like him, proving how good his mood currently is by how he’s taking his time with you. Your hands stay by your side, gripped tight into fists as you feel a finger begin to push inside of you.

He breaks the kiss the time, looking down to see you take his finger.

“Not so bad is it pet?” He wiggled and pushes it as deep as he can go, loving how your back aches and chest juts out in his face for easy access. He’s nice as he works you open with one finger, lavishing your sore nipples with licks and bites. You keep the moans soft and low, struggling to hate this like you thought you would.

It didn’t hurt at all. It felt good. That was the problem. Dabi never makes you feel good, he torments you like a cat with a mouse. That’s why he calls you pet.

So when he squeezes in a second finger and you moan louder? You nearly knock a tooth out slapping a hand over your lips in embarrassment.

“No you don’t,” his fingers rip free from your tight cunt, both hands gripping your wrists and pinning them with one hand above your head. He grabs his jacket, using the arms to make a makeshift cuff to lock your hands together. “Keep’’em right there,” he orders, and by his stern features you know he means it.

Tired of just testing the waters, Dabi crawls down your body in favor of bringing his face directly before your pussy. “Dabi?” Your head lifted to try and see him as he wraps his arms under your hips to hoist you up higher towards his awaiting mouth. “Been thinkin’ of how this pussy tastes for months,” he grins, letting his pierced tongue run from your dripping hole to your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body as your legs jolt and snap around his head.

You realize quickly and apologize, opening them to avoid any punishment.

“Good girl~” you don’t like how his praise warms you up further, your shaking now less from cold or fear and more from arousal.

He repeats his first few licks, before beginning to truly lavish your pretty cunt with his tongue and skills. Dabi isn’t actually an experienced man, most women fearful or disgusted by him for obvious reasons, but it wasn’t hard for him to figure out your reactions and follow the flow of your pleasure. The way you twitched and moaned, struggled to keep your hands in the spot he ordered you to, to keep your legs spread, he loved all of it. When your moans became high pitched whimpers and whines, and your muscles spasmed, he knew you were close.

“D-Dabi I think I—,” you were so close, core wound so tight you could snap at any second, and for the first time you liked what he was doing to you.

Until he stopped.

“No—!” Your cry was embarrassing, as you shook beneath him in horror of your own reaction. Panting and trying to catch your breath as your pleasure faded by the second, his Cheshire grin soaking up your disappointment eagerly. Of course he would, you felt bitter, even as he returned to licking and sucking your clit. Only when the build up returned did you relax again, moving your hips up a little as you neared the crest once more…

He stopped again.

“Dabi—!” Your indignant tone telling as you huffed, sweat beginning to dot your skin despite the cool temperatures, Dabi’s warmth even removed like this helping.

Your stomach ached with the urge to cum. “Something wrong pet?” His face said he knew what was wrong, but it seemed he wanted you to say it. Instead you stubbornly pressed your lips together, his shrug of nonchalance following as he returned to kissing and sucking, slower and more gradually building you up again.

Even if you mentally prepared for it, he let you get much closer to coming than the previous times, so when he pulled away, your legs clamped tight around his head to stop him. “Fuck, please Dabi,” you hated yourself. Hated how he held so much power over you.

If you didn’t look so cute, he’d probably punish you too for not listening.

“Please what?” You watch as he lets a drop of his salvia drip into your pussy, your trembling legs pushed open again by his hands as he stares up at you.

“P-please…” you didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to give him anymore of yourself but… “—please make me cum.”

He looks like that cat which got the milk. His satisfaction palpable as he laughs. “Well why didn’t you just say so? Since you said please.” His teasing tone muffled again soon by your wet pussy, his aggressive approach now much more intense as he eats you out with the purpose of making you cream his face now.

It doesn’t take long before the string violently snaps inside you, your orgasm intense and nearly painful as you come apart.

“Ah, yes, oh—,” you try to shift away, his tongue still laving your clit as he looks up at you, narrow gaze teasing and telling as you whine. “D-Dabi I-I already—ah please!” You almost bite your tongue when he sucks hard on your clit, your panic building with another orgasm. You moan, your head thrown back as your fingers grip and tug on the binding of his coat, hips shaking as you come again.

His lower face is soaked, but he can’t find it in himself to stop as he licks up all your release and noses your clit. Switching his assault to inside of your quivering hole, letting his wet hot tongue slither in, licking and poking your walls. He moans with you now, relaxing as he lets himself get comfortable, leaning against your thigh he has propped up now with his arm keeping you locked in position. He’s lazily feasting as you come again, this time breaking his rule and trying to push his face away with your hands still bound.

He doesn’t even stop then, just uses his free hand to grip the fabric and anchor your hands to your stomach as he continues to work you into another frenzy.

“S’too much! Stop! Stop Dabi! Please fuck, I can’t, ugh, no more—,” your pleas are ignored as he laughs, eyes crinkling as he watches you twitch and jolt with even the tiniest amount of pressure to your clit now.

“I thought you wanted to cum? Change your mind already?” You can hardly manage a full sentence, gasping for air like he’s choked you or something. He relents though, only because his cock is close to shooting his load even though he hadn’t touched himself while playing with you. Using his coat, he lifts your hands back above your head and scoots forward to let his heated cock slap against your wet folds. His hips automatically jerking a few times as his dick feels the soft wet heat your cunt is soaked in.

“You want my cock pet?” You look delirious and exhausted, sweat making your hair cling to your face as you briefly almost admit to being too warm now. Your both chilled and overheated as your sweat dries. Your blurry vision glances down to his throbbing length peaking at you from below, the heavy rod sliding back and forth through your slick and causing your pussy to twitch as he nudges your clit with it.

“S’not gonna fit…” his lip nearly splits on his smile, the cute admission only making him wanna shove it in you more to prove it will fit.

“You don’t think so?” His eyes look inhumanly blue from the cast of whatever show played on the tv now. One hand stays to keep your own pinned, while the other travels down your soft body to grip his cock and line himself up. “‘Cuz I think it will,” then he’s pushing in. His tip goes in easier as it gets crushed by your tight convulsing cunt, the rest engorged by blood feels painful as you cry, Dabi moaning as your gooey walls try to force him out. “I think,” one sharp thrust sinks a whole inch in, your eyes opening wide as tears spill freely, “I’ll get my entire cock in,” he pulls out only a little before shoving in a little more again. “And you know what else I think?” He’s leering down at you, manic grin frightening with the added shadows cast. You can feel his piercings, tugging and forcing themselves inside as he shifts and pushes, nearly stealing your ability to breathe.

“I think you’re gonna like it.” You can’t talk and he knows it, as his tip kisses your cervix, and then it’s bruising it as he shoves himself to entire way in, gasping in pleasure he sees himself fully sheathed inside you. His groin flush with your ass. Your walls so tight it feels impossible to pull out now. It doesn’t matter to Dabi though, as he grits his teeth and rocks forward and back, creating delicious friction on his cock. You’re left to sniffle and cry, pussy stretched painfully wide and aching deep inside from how his rough entrance.

“Poor little crybaby,” he chuckles, leaning closer to lick the tears off your cheeks as he finally gets himself wet enough to begin a slow pace inside you. “You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, burying his face in your neck for a moment while he ruts into you, quick short thrusts working him close to his orgasm. His hand works between you, thumbing your clit as you cry and writhe beneath him, pussy clenching and relaxing as you’re forced to cum with something thick, hot, and painfully heavy inside your cunt.

“Shitttt,” his teeth sink into your neck, grunting as his balls draw tight and he pumps his boiling load deep into your womb, pushing even deeper as it twitched and spurts. Your legs locking and trembling as you see stars.

He stills for a moment, catching his breath quickly as he lifts up to look at your ruined appearance. Your face covered in tears as you pant, eyes nearly closed as struggle to stay awake. Your pussy even messier, slick and cum coating you both and the floor, a tiny bit of pink mixed too.

The thought that it was him who ruined your innocence, taken your first and last, has him hardening again inside you.

You can only whine, silently pleading for a break, but his answering smile is familiar and devious.

“C’mon pet, we’re just getting started tonight.” He chuckles, pulling his hips back before roughly slamming into you now. The shock woke you up fully, pussy protesting the rough treatment he sets as the room fills with salacious noises, your pussy squelching with each slap of his balls. The piercing on his tip hitting a new angle as he leans back and jerks your hips up off the floor.

“Oh!” Your vision goes black as you cum, and Dabi only laughs and fucks you harder as you pass out, loving the stupid expression on your fucked out face.

“That’s it pet, said I was gonna make you forget!” He’s emptying another load inside you not longer after, his own dick becoming a bit overstimulated but too engrossed fucking you to stop yet. With you half conscious, it’s easy to slip out and flip you to your stomach before sliding back in smoothly. “Fuck, you feel so good baby, taking my cock like you were made for it,” his words are slurred in his pleasure, his hips working against your ass as he drags his slick cock out of your pussy before working it back in. He’s even deeper like this, your belly and hips flat on the floor as he fucks you.

You can’t even remember why you didn’t want this anymore. The pleasure and warmth overwhelming and so perfect.

At least as he fills your pussy again, you don’t feel cold.

[sordidmusings]

Tender Love and Care - Massage 2/3 (Buggy x Reader)

Art by Capitanpoops!

A/N: May this be yet another testament to my addiction to both the clown and pining 🙏🏻 It's definitely time for the titular massage, don't you think? Buggy could really use it. Also a perfect way to be helpful and feel him up at the same time fdsfkdjflks Don't worry - he's looking at it as an excuse to be felt up so it's a perfect match. Theres a bit of a headcanon about the effects of extended use of his fruit in this one.

If you catch the meme reference hidden in this installment I love you lol

Word count: ~6.6k

Warnings: afab!reader (no pronouns), suggestive themes but nothing nsfw, humor, weapons grade pining, idiots in love, a little more of Buggy being a prickly bitch, also more of him being touch-starved and desperate for affection, this time the reader has some time in a fantasy world too, you maybe probably also give him a slap on the ass (he deserved it)

<-Prev Next(coming up!)->

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

On the other side of the door, you frowned and hesitated. His voice sounded tired and grumpy. Had you taken too long and robbed him of time he’d rather be sleeping? Had he actually been upset that you had ordered him to bathe instead of asking? Had something come up in the time you’d been gone? Only one way to find out.

You had to stop and stare at Buggy once you were in the room. He looked gorgeous. You already knew he was hot but this was a different type of attractive. Even though the loose clothing you’d stolen for him (sorry Zoro) was casual sleepwear, the way it draped brought out the places where he was bulked up. Each lax section of soft cloth juxtaposed beautifully with the spots where muscle pushed against fabric. Shoulders, chest, and thighs stood out to you most, calling to you with the request to treat them as overstuffed pillows pressing at their cases. You admired him as your eyes made their way back up to his face. His hair was pulled back in a large messy bun that looked so, so soft and left his face completely unobscured. The refresh on makeup was skillfully executed and brought out all his features in a way that had your mouth run dry. The tempting lines of his lips stood out behind vibrant red. His brow and cheekbones were highlighted by slashes of blue. His sea-glass eyes looked all the brighter set against a rim of dark lashes and smudges. You were probably staring too long, but it was too difficult to look away.

Buggy didn’t mind. He can’t remember someone looking at him with awe this way before. It was the best balm he could've asked for to cover his freshly agitated self-loathing. He almost couldn’t believe that his efforts on his appearance had worked out so well. Feeling high off of his success, he couldn’t resist taking some time to gloat.

“Need help picking your jaw off the floor, sweetcheeks?” he teased. His teeth bared in a wide smile, splitting his face and narrowing his eyes. His canines shined white against the dark of his lips.

One hand flew over to you and held your chin. Buggy placed the pad of his thumb against your bottom lip, before rubbing the whole length of it down. Enraptured by the sight of your lip being pulled, Buggy stared and swallowed hard. His breath shook lightly, just like the breath he felt puff out against his hand. He let your lip flick back up before pressing his hand up to guide your gently parted mouth closed.

Feeling unsure of where things would go next, you cleared your throat and turned away. Maybe something routine would settle your nerves. Lotion. Yeah, that would work. The movements would be calming and it would let you stay in your own physical space until you were less flustered. Maybe it would even give you some time to cook up some vengeance and get the upper hand on the clown again.

Buggy was still taking up the chair at the desk, and you weren’t ready to breach the border of the bed yet. Luckily, there was a large pouf you could sit on and continue avoiding things. You tried not to let Buggy’s gleeful giggling at your expense goad you into saying something stupid to shut him up. Instead, you focused your attention on the calming smell of your lotion as you opened the tub. Delicate scents of amber, wood, and lavender greeted you and the pavlovian training from a long history of hard days smoothed out to this smell made you instantly loosen and breathe deeper.

“Were you a perfumier pre-pirate or something?” Buggy asked. He had made himself sound condescending, but you caught the interest in the way he looked over at you. 

You had noticed before how very unsubtly he had taken to your care products anyway. You had caught him sniffing at his own hair more than once since you’d washed it. If there was an occasion with an excuse for him to be close, his face tended to gravitate around your shoulders and head and you could’ve sworn he’d deepen his breath. It skirted the perfect line between sweet and pathetic for you to let it continue. Some part of you wondered if you would find it creepy from someone else, but a much larger part of you didn’t care.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, circus boy,” you scoffed. Having made quick work of your feet, you were now on to massaging the creamy lotion into the meat of your calf. 

“That’s not one of the things you’re allowed to call me,” he said, lip curling. “Closest you can get is ‘ringmaster’.” He paused then added as an afterthought, “You could always just keep it to ‘master’ too.”

“You wish,” you laughed out. You had switched to your other calf, the one closer to Buggy, and bent your leg towards yourself this time, tired of bending forward. Buggy’s rebuttal died on his lips as he watched your movements, especially the way it made your sleep shorts ride up. He didn’t know if he wanted to know how your hands felt, digging long stripes across skin and muscle, or how it felt to replace your hands with his, molding and admiring your body. His indecision only grew as you moved up to your thigh.

Noticing the long silence, you looked up at Buggy to see what had him distracted. His gaze was glued to your hands. To make sure that he was watching and not staring into the abyss, you leisurely slid your hands all the way back down to your ankle. His eyes intently followed the whole process. Definitely watching. Huh.

Going to the other thigh, you tried to decide how to react to that. Sure, he’s been flirty and so have you, but he’s also missed too many offers for closeness for you to think there was more to it. He’d shy from your hands more often than he would seek them and he tended to make himself scarce soon after your personal spaces mingled. That’s one of the things that tipped you off that he liked your shampoo and not you; it was the only time he would truly linger. You had decided that he yearned for touch but not your touch.

The thought had little pangs going through you, causing you to slow and slump. You looked back up at him and saw the longing in his eyes before he covered it up by screwing up his face and sticking his tongue out at you. What a fucking child. He’s perfect.

So, you treated that longing as what you thought it was: pure touch-starvation. You’ve been there and knew that pain. Honestly, you fell into it pretty quickly. Recently that was exacerbated by leaving Luffy’s crew, who would keep you sated on that front. Well… mostly Luffy, but Usopp was a hugger and Sanji would never be upset with contact. Nami would sometimes tolerate it, giving you the energy of a standoffish cat beginning to accept your presence. The most you broke out of Zoro were playful shoulder bumps and other such affectionate roughness. Reminiscing aside, you didn’t want Buggy to ache like that.

Gesturing towards Buggy with the lotion, you asked, “I’m guessing you didn’t use any yet?”

“Why would I? I don’t need it,” he responded, furrowing his brows.

“Well you won’t die without it I’ll give you that,” you started, “but it makes your skin soft and smells good.” You were surprised to see him take a moment to think over your offer so quickly. His eyes lingered on your legs again, and you worked to tamp down the hopes for affection it brought up in you.

“Looks like too much work,” Buggy dismissed, getting up and making for the bed.

“I’ll do it for you,” you pressed, falling victim to your own yearning for contact.

Buggy froze completely, even halting his breath, repeating the sounds of your voice in his mind to make sure they actually made those words. No way. Yeah, you did that lovely hair wash and seemed soft on him, but he figured that was mostly from pity for how helpless and bedraggled he was as a head. There’s no way you’re here just handing out a massage. “Care to repeat that, dollface?”

“I’ll do the lotioning for you, like, give you a massage,” you explained. The fact that he still hasn’t moved was making you nervous. It was a good thing you couldn’t see the wide-eyed look of startled prey frozen on his face. “If you don’t want me to that’s fi-”

“No!” Buggy yelped. Head and torso spun around, lifting off his lower body in his haste to face you. His lower body caught up and he popped back down onto his waist, causing his clothes to flutter. “I mean, uhhh-” he cleared his throat “I don’t mind. It’ll be a nice service for your Captain.” By the end of that, he at least started to sound smug and teasing again. There was no saving it, but you were gracious enough to let the fumbles pass this time. It helped that his eagerness was flattering.

“Sure thing, Cap,” you said, messing up the title to keep at least a small level of disrespect to rub at him. He was too fun to bait.

“It’s Captain. Captain Buggy, actually,” he told you. He backed up and sat on the edge of the bed to watch your approach. “It’s easy - Cap-tain Bu-ggy.” 

You huffed good-naturedly at him talking to you like you were a child, split syllables and all. Might as well continue toying with him.

“Cap-” you kneeled down between his legs “-tain” you had a hand at each of his ankles “Boo-” his left pant leg was pushed above his knee “-gie!” and the right one follows.

“You are such a brat,” he chastised, trying to sound stern and pissed off, but he was too distracted by the way the mischievous glint in your eye had his heart pounding. He had no clue what you were planning, but he was sure he would hate and love it. “Say it right.”

“Or what?” you snorted dismissively, rolling your eyes and trailing light fingertips down his shins. Unfortunately, that was a step too far; something in him felt you saw him as a foolish boy in that moment, making him lash out.

Your cheer fell the moment his hand fisted the front of your shirt. His grip tugged you in and his face got as close as possible without breaching to touch you. For a fraction of a second, it didn’t matter how pretty those eyes were; all you could see of them was anger. 

“Sorry, Captain Buggy,” you mumbled quickly. For a tense few breaths, his wild eyes peeled yours apart. You let him, wanting to show compliance and that you had nothing to hide. You got to watch first-hand how the fight left him in his relaxing brow, drooping shoulders, and slipping grip. Those fiery eyes lost their burn and his look closed off into something you couldn’t understand.

“Whatever. Just don’t do it again,” he grumbled. Sometime when the two of you had more practice opening to each other, you needed to ask him precisely what ‘it’ was. For now, you would file this away to await that day.

“I won’t,” you promised, truly meaning it. It wasn’t due to the threat but because you hated when he was upset. You started to get in your own head; somehow it seemed each time you moved to get close to him that you would upset him. The night that you two shared a hammock had ended up lovely, but you couldn’t help but worry that you were crossing boundaries he had tried to express to you through these turns of temper.

Buggy noticed how your hands at the lotion had become limp and hesitant. You didn’t want to touch him. But you offered! You can’t take it away from him now; he needs it. Hot shame broke across his skin at the realization that he had lashed out at you and made you nervous to touch him. You should never be scared of him and he resolved to stop giving you reason to be. You should look at him and see a reliable Captain, a brave protector. A lifelong lover. The ache was back and more pungent than ever.

You were still stalling, tracing nonsense into the lotion and shifting on your knees, when the hand that had been loosely holding your shirt instead smoothed it out and Buggy’s other hand grabbed your own and placed it against his calf. The hand at your chest rubbed soothing swipes back and forth beneath your collarbone, easing the creases he’d made out of the fabric of your top. You began to mimic this motion on the side of Buggy’s leg. Before you started to commit to your task, you looked up to meet Buggy’s eyes. He wouldn’t say the words, but his eyes were glassy and pleading for forgiveness. While words were nice, you could feel how genuine the apology was through his caring and nervous touch, and for now that was enough for you.

A tentative smile eased onto your lips and Buggy felt some of the pressure in his throat and chest loosen its grip. Your other hand joined the first in kneading his muscles and his lungs were freed enough to stretch full again.

He watched you intently while you set about lotioning his legs. The task helped you ease back up and you quickly took to enjoying it; touching Buggy always had your heart fluttering. You felt like you were edging on something unknown and unexplored and exciting. You had gained quite the affection for this temperamental and wounded man. You wanted desperately to be the one to soothe and comfort him and make it so more of that goofy and loving side of him could flourish. The goofiness has come out quite easily but he holds his love very close to his chest. You imagine that is the place that has been the most damaged with how he guards it. His pride also seems to be held quite close for fear of injury.

Buggy hummed out relief as you pressed more firmly into his calf. It gave you more confidence in your touch to know that you were making him feel good. Working thumbs down next to his shin, you marveled at the fact that even the soft hairs there were blue. You found it fitting that so much blue was wrapped into his looks: blue like the sea that promised the freedom that he endlessly chased, blue like the sky that has been his roof since boyhood, blue like the melancholy that steeped into his being. Red fit him too - his nose, his lips, his passion, his rage - but the blue seemed to run deeper.

Tending to the second leg, you broke yourself from your reverie to check in on Buggy. He was looking down at you, but you could tell from the glaze in his eyes that he wasn’t actually seeing you. Wherever he was in his head, you hoped that it was kind. 

You’d happily take advantage of his zoning out to stare at that pretty face for a while. The makeup highlighting his features looked extra meticulous, not a single wobble in the diamonds over his eyes. The color he put on tonight was richer by his lips and eyes than you’d ever seen it. Dark smudges fit him so nicely; they made his eyes more entrancing and the sea-green of his irises stand out. You trailed your gaze down to admire the other feature he’d emphasized; his lips. The bright crimson of his painted smile bled into a hypnotizing deep carmine right where you would kiss. Your new favorite color was interrupted by a flash of pink - a nervous tongue flicking to wet his lips over makeup - and you looked up.

Buggy’s eyes have managed to darken even more with his blown pupils. There was a questioning furrow to his brow but no apprehension to match it. His posture seemed a lot more leisurely than the hard set of his shoulders you had seen after his outburst. It made you smile brightly up at him, pleased that you were making him feel better. His eyes shot away from you, and you could’ve sworn you saw a flush peeking out on his cheeks. You placed a hand on each of his knees, giving them a playful squeeze.

“Wearing anything under these?” you asked, tugging at the pant legs shoved up on his thighs. Buggy took a second to choke on his surprise. He recovered quickly.

“No, but don’t let that stop you,” he teased. Ah, there’s that cheesy wink, tongue click and all. What a man. It was even better knowing that he’d shy away the moment your fingers touched his waistband. You eyed that waistband longingly for a moment before deciding to keep things away from your other massage talents.

“Captain!” you gasped in mock offense. “You’d offer such a thing to a pure maiden like me?”

“Pure maiden?” he laughed out, much too amused at the idea. “Oh, sure, the same pure maiden who offered a ‘tasting’ to that pretty boy chef?”

Despite laughing with him, you still gave his thigh a little smack for the jab.

“He was the one who responded to a compliment of his palette with ‘thank you, love, my tongue is well trained’!” you defended, making sure to put on a terrible impression when quoting Sanji. “What was I supposed to do? Not flirt back?”

“Do you always just flirt black?” Buggy’s eyes and tone turned more intense but not angry. You were happy to see that nothing harsh spilled into his expression with that focus.

“Only if I enjoy a person,” you responded evenly, a bit apprehensive of where he could be leading this. “I don’t play to anyone I don’t like.”

A pleased grin slowly split his face and you focused in on his shining teeth framed in blood red lips.  His words came out light and airy in a way that made you suspect a trap beneath their veneer when he asked, “Then tell me, little tease, do you like me?”

Buggy’s sudden confidence quickly had yours faltering. It felt the same as when someone toys with you because they know something you don’t. He had to have something up his sleeve to set you up like that. Sure, he had a moment earlier when he noticed your gawking, but this can’t be the same Buggy that tripped on his own feet when you offered to learn burlesque for his show. You decided to play it safe.

“Of course. I chose you as my Captain, right?” Agree but deflect - perfect.

Buggy wanted to be frustrated at your answer. Actually, some piece of him was - he was sure you knew that’s not what he was getting at - but he was also happy. You did choose him. You chose to run away with him, a pirate you barely knew, not to mention that that short time was always spent with one of you as the other’s hostage. He’d question your judgment if it weren’t benefitting him so much. Even if it wasn’t what he wanted (‘yet’ he hoped), you liked him enough to completely change the trajectory of your life path to run parallel with his. That counted for something. A lot of something. 

The affection that started to blend into Buggy’s eyes had your heart stuttering. You couldn’t look away even when he gently placed a hand atop your head then petted it slowly back and down so that he held the back of your head.

“Right,” he responded quietly. He gave two gentle scratches to the base of your skull before leaning away from you. The distance helped break you from the spell his gaze had you under. He huffed out a breath then asked, “So, what’s next?”

“I can do your back?” Yeah that should help; it would keep those pretty eyes from making you want to bare your soul. It seemed to be their mission tonight to do so by force or by favor and you were not ready for him to find the immense (and still somehow growing) affection for him there. You weren’t ready for the rejection you expected. You don’t think he would reject a more active night sharing a bed but you were certain he would reject the pursuit of love and that’s what would actually hurt. And besides, it would give him way too big of a head and the teasing would become unbearably annoying.

Oh, wow, when did he take his shirt off? Were you really zoned out thinking for more than a few seconds? And how come this man makes chest hair look so damn good? You wanted to feel that dark blue under your fingers and the pecs decorated with it as well. His shirt did him justice but he looks just as good, if not better, without it. Those pecs flexed a few times, letting you know he caught on to your staring again. 

“You’re really distracted today,” Buggy said through a smile, looking all too wolfish for your liking at the moment.

“What can I say, I love blue and you’re just lucky to be covered in it.”

“Well I am a natural bluenette,” Buggy said with that stupid, wonderful, self-satisfied glint in his eye he got every time he tried out one of his tenuous puns. 

“You are the worst,” you laughed. The corners of his cheeky smile pulled wider. “Here, let me set up for you.”

Buggy quirked a brow at you but said nothing as he watched you shuffle onto the bed. You grabbed the pillows from the head of the bed and laid them out in the middle. After making an upside down “T”, you took a moment to fluff them for maximum comfort. Luckily, the inn didn’t skimp out on pillow budget so you had a lot to work with. You finished by giving them an appeased nod then turned back to Buggy. With dramatic flair, you swept an arm through the air over your setup. 

“Your throne awaits,” you said. You patted the top pillow, “Chest here-” and the middle of the bottom one “-and hips here. Keep your head above the top one with your forehead on your arms so you don’t have to crank your neck the whole time.”

Buggy began moving to the center of the bed with a sarcastic “Yes, your highness” and turned to lay on his stomach. You took the opportunity to admire your beloved blue on his chest and happy trail. You scooted to sit on your knees right next to his side. Looking down at his back, you took in the muscles he had built there too. They made enticing lines across the expanse of soft skin and you were ever more eager to be able to have your hands on him. 

You leaned forward to begin a few awkward times before deciding you didn’t like the angle. It would be more comfortable with a straight shot, not to mention you’d be able to do a much better job for him. You wanted to impress him (hopefully enough to be able to do this again), so you pulled together the courage to throw a leg over him. You hovered for just a second, before lowering yourself to sit on his glutes. It ended up being a more cushioned seat than anticipated (good for him) so you felt comfortable relaxing more of your weight down on him. Buggy let out a nervous little giggle before he cleared his throat and shuffled beneath you.

“Is this okay?” you asked, frowning lightly.

“Yeah, fine,” Buggy responded, too quick and too high. You rolled your eyes at his convincing response and began to lift your weight back off of him. He threw his left hand back to sink his grip into your thigh and keep you from moving.

“I said it was fine,” Buggy repeated too firmly, causing you to sit back down incredulously.

It was most certainly not fine. Buggy didn’t think that something so simple would fluster him so much, but his touch-starved nerves were staging light shows under his skin and his mind was running wild. He had hoped that the start of the massage would have prepared him for further contact. Instead, his brain was drowning under a tide of happy chemicals at the feeling of your weight and warmth. Your soft thighs pressed gently into the skin of his sides and the heat exchanging between your bodies had him melting into the pillows. 

You snuggled your legs more comfortably into him, and the wonderful pressure of the act along with the weight of you on him had him feeling held for the first time in… how long? The night of his head cuddled into your chest was close (and quite precious to him), but it was different with his body involved - more overwhelming. His heart ached again as he was left to take in the images his brain conjured of the two of you wrapped in each other to start and end the days. The pain of it was more poignant with the realism your closeness allowed. Yep, he was not fine, but he was desperate to stay right where he was.

The nerves still persisted though. If the firm strokes of your fingers along his calves had him holding back pleased sighs, he was sure he’d have to bite his tongue to keep from moaning with your hands working his tense back loose. He was already kicking himself for the giggle and crackling voice. You must think he’s so pathetic; how could you admire him when he always crumbled around you?

“Seafaring has certainly done wonders for you,” you complimented while trailing fingertips across his shoulders. Buggy blinked and worried for a second that you could hear his downturning thoughts with how well-timed your compliments tended to be. Your fingers brushed down the length of his spine and the shiver it pulled out shook the worries from him. Tracing that path back up, you turned your hand over to tease him with the brush of your nails. Another tremble rewarded your efforts.

After spreading a generous amount of lotion on your hands, you rubbed the moisture into the lower half of his back to start. It was a bit cold for a moment before it warmed under your palms and warmed the air with more of that relaxing scent. The lavender and wood settled over Buggy’s senses and helped keep his breath deep and mind quiet. You took your time enjoying the feel of him as you molded his muscles under the base of your thumb, moving from spine to side then letting your fingers touch all the way back to the start. 

Buggy was split between turning liquid under your touch and tensing up to keep control of his composure, and the divide only worsened with each measured stroke across his skin. When he let himself lean towards relaxing, he felt a whine pressing out of his chest and tucked his head down to bite into the plush pillow to hold it back. He found that clenching his teeth into something helped ground all of his tension there and he began to let his muscles relax with your urging hands. Even still, he had to continue biting back pleased sounds for fear of your reaction. Unwilling to part with your touch, he bore the brunt of his insecurities. Long and slow breaths helped him keep his nerves and excitement back, and he found the payment of filing this into his memory well worth the risk of embarrassing himself.

Your own mind quieted as you subconsciously mimicked his deepening breaths and filled your mind with your senses instead of internal monologue. They led you to indulge as your eyes saw Buggy look like art under dim lamplight.  You felt his form shift and mix with your hands under you, you smelled your lotion mixing with the sweet haze around his hair and the barely there scent of his skin, and you heard the ambiance of slow breathing and skin brushing skin. You yearned to fill your last sense with Buggy too, pulling him in for a kiss to have him eased onto your tongue.

Meanwhile, Buggy had sunk enough into the moment to forget how to yearn. He was already getting more than he could’ve hoped for from you, and the satisfaction of getting your touch so directly, intentionally, and extendedly had him on cloud nine. His brain was turning gooey and it was distracting him from his aversion to making noise; his deep breaths shifted to take on the air of a sigh each time a new or particularly needy spot found itself under your loving hands. He’d wind his jaw back tight again each time that he heard the noise become too audible, but each time he had less and less resistance to give. The desperation to stay calm and collected was sinking beneath the desperation to fall under the spell of your care. With each moment under your comforting weight, radiant heat, enticing scent, and worshiping hands he knew he’d drown under that rising tide. The surrender was frightening, but the other side seemed so blissful.

When you circled your thumbs right above the dimples on his lower back and worked them deep into the muscles framing his spine, you pulled the first faint moan from him. It was cut short by a tense inhale but the shaky sound resonated long enough to spread goosebumps up the back of your neck. Waiting until he started to exhale, you kneaded your thumbs all the way up until you were palming his traps and another moan followed, low and long. Since he wasn’t able to hide the sound, you got to hear every needy tone wrapped up in the pressure of his voice. Pressing his forehead down further into his arms, Buggy stretched his shoulders wide and the base of his neck up to give you more to touch while also feeling more hidden. It had him looking like a sleepy cat leaning into petting.

“Feels good?” you asked, just barely above a whisper but tone still noticeably eager.

“So good,” Buggy mumbled, voice thick and rumbling from his chest. The stubborn tightness he’s been holding deep in his chest was finally leaving him. The freeing space quickly filled with a thrill he found unfamiliar; it wasn’t bubbling, flinging, or shocking through him but instead it sat sturdy within his ribs, spreading and dripping like molasses out through his body. To your surprise, Buggy gave you more of that enticing sleepy lilt. “Splitting up can make me sore and fuck with my nerves. Leaves my muscles feeling-” he paused to grunt with relief when you broke up a knot that had tucked itself next to his shoulder blade “-heavy. Puts pin pricks on my skin like it's numb too if I’m broken up a long time.” Your hands pushed out to hold the lats that lay thick over his ribs. After a moment of simply appreciating the waves of his breath under your palms, you continued your massage and earned another pleased groan from him, this one completely unrestrained. “It’s worst when my head’s off - makes my whole body ache.”

Buggy had been simply talking without thought, so when you stopped for a few long moments he had the time to let his mind catch up. Before he had enough time to regain any of his anxieties, you resumed your task.

“That sounds awful,” you mumbled sympathetically. 

He hummed in agreement, but was too soothed to let his mind actually linger on any of his hurts or complaints. Everything was simply gentle breathing and soft skin. 

That head fuzz kept him floating through the rest of your attention. In the future he’d be kicking himself for not intensely focusing on recording every second down in his memory. As he was now though, that languid semi-sleep suspended outside of time was his personal heaven. 

You retained more of your own focus, but being more alert than Buggy in that moment was an exceedingly low bar. It meant that you were just able to keep your task going and be conscious of your actions. Beyond that, your mind wandered far and wide through scenes both domestic and dramatic. The same Buggy who brushed fingertips across your cheek to wake you also professed his undying love at the threat of you heading back to your old crew. The Buggy who placed a peck with an obnoxious “mwah!” each time you passed each other while readying for the day also cried from fear and relief and clung to you after he swept you away from danger. Your Buggy shared the mundane quiet with you through squeezing hands, silly faces, and leaning weight. Your Buggy bared his teeth at those who wronged you and spilled you over his bed to salve the wounds with fervent devotion.

The Buggy under you let out a quiet snore and forced you to fully exist in reality.

You giggled fondly at the man below you, heart swelling at the thought of how much more comfortable and relaxed he became. 

“Mmn-why’d ya stop,” Buggy grumbled. His sleep-thick voice barely made it past the pillow.

“I figured you were gone to the world,” you responded, “and besides, I’ve been at this for… about an hour fifteen actually.”

“Another then.”

“Another what?”

“Hour fifteen.”

You snorted at his needy petulance. Give him just a bit of attention and he’s immediately spoiled rotten.

“Not even a thanks first for the time already given?” you teased.

“Thank you, my sweetest, most dearest crew member! Truly you are a gift to your captain and deserve accolades and promotion,” Buggy snarked in a dramatic cadence, sounding like a play lead professing his love.

The only promotion you saw happening was his promotion from spoiled rotten to Spoiled Rotten Brat. 

“What position will I be promoted to, my sweetest and most dearest Captain?” You mimicked him but packed much more sarcasm into the flattery. Getting up onto your knees, you eyed him up and down. You knew how you wanted to shut him up but felt like you shouldn’t.

“Why, just what the most essential and beloved member of my crew deserves!” Buggy was trying to sound dramatic, but couldn’t keep the sound of his wide smile out of his voice. He peeked over his shoulder to expose that face splitting grin with you. Like always, the blues and greens in his smile-crinkled eyes messed with your heart.

“You’ll be my very own personal servant,” Buggy finally answered, looking like the very embodiment of self-satisfaction.

You blamed him for your slip in self-control.

The sharp sound that cut through the room and his shittalking as your palm met his ass was music to your ears. The moment after contact, you bolted for the door, leaving him behind with your laughter. Unfortunately, you were no match for the speed of chop chop hands, which latched onto your wrists to halt your escape. Buggy was right behind them, reattaching and then wrapping arms around you to throw you over a shoulder in one frantic motion.

The cackling that burst out of him was wild and bright and you couldn’t resist joining in. You wished you could see his face as it twisted in joy, but you were stuck hanging over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Your mind lost that thought along with all others when you felt a harsh smack against your own ass. When he received a disbelieving chuckle instead of vicious cursing, Buggy repeated the sharp motion a few more times for good measure. You yelped and squirmed playfully, mildly impressed how easily he supported your weight and kept his hold firm.

You decided he was a hidden gentleman when his hand only stayed in place for a moment before moving down to the back of your thighs. You shivered at the feeling of his hand brushing down the sensitive skin there to rest its warmth just above the back of your knee. He started walking, his steps bouncing through you, and just when you wondered where he planned to put you, your world spun. Springs creaked as your back met the mattress and continued their protests with each residual bounce.

“You’re not allowed to take up the whole thing this time,” Buggy teased, narrowing his eyes down at you.

“Like you needed the space.” You still started shifting towards the walled side of the bed to make room for him.

“You gonna hold your Captain’s weakest moment over his head forever?” Buggy asked.

“Unlikely, but no promises,” you responded, voice warbled by your heavy shifts to turn over and face Buggy once more.

He beat your grace by a landslide when he delicately sat on the bed and slid under the covers. It reminded you of someone trying not to alert a predator with any sudden movements. Or maybe a teen sneaking back into the house just before dawn. Grace leaves him once his motion stops though; he lays awkwardly on his back and his whole body stiffens up to resemble a plank. He’s kept himself arm’s distance from you, not at the edge of the mattress but close. And he really had the gall to say you’d take up the whole bed when he was going to act like this.

“You just had a hand on my ass; are you really that scared to touch me again?” Your voice is much more incredulous than judgemental. You were simply astonished by his capricious nature yet again.

Instead of responding, Buggy sent a pouty glare your way. You met it with an easy smile, making it begin to lean more pout than glare. It looked positively absurd coming from the corner of his eye because he was still too locked up to move. Wanting to ease him and getting tired of waiting (and missing his touch), you began to reach for him. Just to spite you, Buggy finally broke his method acting as Statue to turn his back to you. The huff he let out had you giggling again. You took a moment to cherish how much he’s had you doing that, especially tonight.

“If you think I won’t spoon you, you’ve got another thing coming,” you threatened.

You caught the barest hint of his gaze when he turned his head to peek at you. It was only there for a moment before he faced back forward and snuggled himself deeper into the mattress. Looks like someone might actually be up for little spoon.

Moving slowly so that he has plenty of time to object, you shifted yourself forward on the bed until you were only a few inches away. The divot both of your bodies were making was adding gravity to the pull between you two but you still hesitated. The final step to contact was the most daunting after all, and also the part you wanted to savor the most. You took a deep breath, smelling your own favorite lotion off of the exposed skin in front of you, and moved forward.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

<-Prev Next (coming up!)->

Tentative Taglist (don't wanna bug people and I know it's been a LONG time since some people have asked - no pressure!): @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @hey-august @click-and-flash-pest-captures @feral-artistry @haveatthee83 @schoute @paranoid-poppies @clownetomb @srgtjamesbarnes @karma-gisa @mythicallystupid

[inamagicalhallucination]

@karmicpunishment

au where atsushi never joins the ada and works at idk some cafe or some shit

anyway theres a big grocery store near his tiny apartment and it always has the best deals and the best sales but not that many ppl around him go there much to atsushi's shock

but atsushi always goes there to shop - and at first he thinks maybe he shouldnt be here becuz the workers there always look surprised to see him

but then they dont say anything to him and the other costumers are rlly nice so he doesn't think too much of it

how is he, new to yokohama, supposed to know taht this grocery store is usually only frequented by the more scary and strange ppl (ada and pm)

how is he supposed to know that the cute scary looking vampire guy who gives him tea recommendations and stares at him before pointing at things that go well with tea and leaving when atsushi thanks him but always giving him recommendations when he sees him again and occasionally going out of his way to buy something atsushi's eyes lingered on but he didn't get cuz of prices is actually the rabid dog of the mafia

how is he supposed to know that the bandaged guy who only ever buys crabs and looks surprised but listens when atsushi offers to help him buy things thatll go good with them (after all atsushi knows how hard it is to try new food and how overwhelming it is to go from sneaking food from the kitchens to buying whatever he wants) is a ex mafioso current detective

and that the slightly scary but ultimately nice guy with the long blond hair and glasses who took one look at atsushi's cart and immediately wrote down a better, but still cheap, dietary plan is the bandage guys partner

and the guy with the hat and long red hair who helped atsushi carry his stuff to his apartment after atsushi complimented his hat is actually a mafia executive

and the long haired pretty woman who atsushi runs into while she's buying something for her brother is actually scary cute vampire guys sister and an assassin

and the blonde lady who asked for atsushi's help on choosing a snack for her boss is also in the mafia

and the short guy who buys too many snacks and told atsushi his taste in candy was low level and he should buy this too while also stealing the last packet of a brand atsushi wanted to try from his cart was the world's greatest detective (ok actually he knew he was a detective becuz of how he dressed but still)

and the old guy who comes to buy cat stuff and sadly confided in atsushi how he had trouble with a stray he had found and listened carefully to atsushi's advise on how to deal with stray cats, and patted atsushi's had in a way that made atsushi's long forgotten childhood wish of having parents briefly resurface was actually the boss of the ada

and so on

meanwhile everyone else who knows about the store is flabbergasted that some kid just goes in and out with zero fucks and is casually besties w/ everyone there

and then the guild come looking for atsushi heh

[natsmagi]

ok no i need to bitch because i have remained positive and hopeful throughout most of !!-era because i believed that happyele loved their characters and wouldnt deliberately go out of their way to butcher them but time and time again i have been proven wrong on this fact. and seeing the way theyre doubling down on having ibuki, a ryukyuan kid from okinawa, join a traditional "wa" japanese unit that embraces mainland japan traditions when the mainland has continuously tried to make okinawa theirs and disregard the ryukyuan identity WHILE ALSO LITERALLY HAVING EICHI COLONIZE OKINAWA IN ATLANTIS its all just becoming too much. I am no expert when it comes to these topics so do not take my word when it comes to jp culture, conflict and the likes, but knowing how poorly happyele has continuously time and time again treated their indigenous (or middle eastern in adonis's case) cast i cannot see this going well. Not to mention how having ibuki join akatsuki goes against everything the three of them have built up and the whole POINT of their unit and that for them to even fucking put this garbage in the story they had to make keito PAINFULLY ooc to pull it off because NO OTHER REALITY WOULD ALLOW IT!!!!! theyre taking akatsukis developments and throwing it out the window in an attempt to make them something "new" and more profitable while also using a beloved group that so many have spent so much of their time loving and supporting into nothing but a scapegoat for their imperialist propaganda im so unbelievably angry that theyre doubling down on this. im so angry that theyre stupid enough to let shit like this pass

and im sure youve probably read posts explaining the aktk thing better than i ever couldve, esp considering im not an aktkP, but im also writing this to tell the fans of big units to Stop Giving In. do not feel safe just because happyele is scared of losing you, because I used to be an undeadP before getting into switch and the reason i STOPPED producing them was because they viewed the unit as nothing but a money-maker machine and would completely disregard their developments for the sake of feeding into tropes that fans liked and they cared more about yaoibait than they did the characters themselves. They tossed out any growth rei and ritsu had in opperetta for the sake of bringing back sakuma brothers conflict in that painfully annoying la mort story and theyre gonna keep doing this shit until fans tire of it. valkyrie, eden and knights are three super popular units with upcoming events, and i seriously need you to not give happyele any of your time or money because they do not deserve it.

even with switch, a rather unpopular unit, theres been total garbage pulled. in switchs case i think its safe to say that akira does genuinely really care for natsume and tsumugis relationship considering thats basically all that man even includes in his switch stories, but he never really knows what to do with sora. And i feel like he doesnt really care. Like sure i can sit here and be like "well at least MY favs seem to be doing alright" but thats purely because they keep spoon-feeding us crumbs of the units popular ships so we wont complain. i still really like their dynamic and i strongly disagree with alot of fans saying natsume and tsumugi have been OOC lately, but like. Look at sora man. i dont mind him having a little gf in the virtual world, i dont mind him growing more independent, i dont mind him relying less on his synesthesia. but the executions are just. Theyre painful. with the synesthesia thing esp bc synesthesia doesnt just go away. You couldve easily made a simple point of "you cant always rely on your synesthesia to know how people feel" because that is TRUE! but that would de-fetishize this idea these people have of synesthesia being some Magical Ability and not just a neurological condition. And with the sora being more independent; this is also something thats been needed for his story! natsume and tsumugi would often coddle him way too much, and sora himself would complain about being treated as a kid. But like. sora has started to feel so disconnected from switch in a way.....? and this has even been a point of conflict in stories, sora not knowing how to partake in ntmgs conversations because theyre too difficult, or being sad that ntmg never have time to hang out with him. But instead of working on these things, they just. keep having sora hang out with people outside of natsume and tsumugi? who have practically become a package deal at this point?? literally having sora join a NEW UNIT without natsume or tsumugi????????? i dont know. im rambling but i just wanted to get this out there. Theyre my specialest guys in the whole entire world and i just want to make people more cautious of thinking "well the aktk thing wouldnt happen to MY fav unit! they wouldnt butcher MY favs!" because they very much can. even if theres an aspect youre still hooked on, other factors are visibly crumbling because management cares only about what will bring the most revenue, and not what is best for the character

i cant help but feel the reason theyre pulling this shit with akatsuki is because they felt as though they somewhat got away with it with Double Face and raked in some extra cash because kohaku ended up popular, so now theyre doing that again but taking it to the next extreme. its disheartening

anyway. i will continue to draw and enjoy ensemble stars. But i wont be supporting them financially anymore as they clearly do not care about fans at all. if i desperately want some merch ill just buy it second-hand. And while im at it, i need you people to stop telling enstarries to get into some other idol franchise instead as if the main problem here isnt how disgustingly predatory they are. Happy Elements were THE biggest joseimuke franchise, making the most money out of all their competitors, and it still wasnt enough. they still didnt respect their fans. when the fans would continuously respect their wishes. Enstars is like the only fandom ive seen that doesnt share leaks for example, yet this courtesy means nothing to them. Corporations arent your friends, never have been and never will be. those characters arent real, they do not have feelings of their own. They were all written by someone to serve a purpose, and this includes ibuki being an indigenous kid joining the wa japanese culture unit. To use this popularity to spread so much fucking bigotry and hatred is heartbreaking. And to blame the fans for being upset over it????????????? youre disgusting happyele.

[calicofoxxed]

chat I'm back on my dsmp designs shit

some design notes/headcanons below the cut !

both her wings and hair are graying. their wings used to be much brighter (close to a bright yellow/gold) but have dulled over time mostly due to stress :]

the most important feathers on her wings are clipped so they cannot fly more than a foot off the ground and glide (not v gracefully) down from something

the scar on her stomach is from when Schlatt swiped at her with a pickaxe.

you cant see it too clearly (because he uses his hair to cover it as much as possible) but the scar on her face from techno goes over their nose as well.

they switch out their fake eye every now and then. they have more casual ones like the 8 ball and more fancy ones like eyes w star/heart pupils and shit like that.

scars from the execution are a little more faded in comparison to her hand/arm burns

she keeps the casino key on him at all times. its on one of those extendable lanyard thingys.

his septum is pierced!! i considered making her bellybutton pierced but decided against it

the stickers on their cane are from various Las Nevadas members, the fox is from fundy ofc, the card is an actual card that slime glued on, the chip is one she added himself and theres a creeper sticker from sam on the other side

star pin was handmade by yogurt and she wears it with pride, even though it doesn't match

the outfit here is more of a casual outfit of hers. for off days around las nevadas, prison visits, etc.

the ring on her necklace is actually from Eret, its the only ring from his engagements that he kept and didn't throw away in rage/upset. because she was never angry at Eret for their relationship failing, not like with Sap and Karl, and definitely not like with Schlatt.

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

Is “willingly unloved” canon to the roomates au?

yes, unless it is excplicitly stated all comics/ drawings under the hashtag r canon!

it was also a bit of a character study of ethan, i wanted to draw what i think he would act like after going through something as traumatizing as re8 and re7. a lot of the times ethan getting horribly hurt (arms/legs cut off) is either passed off as a joke of "haha he lost another arm" or passed off as him being a idiot being stupid. i wanted to explore how those things would affect him and how all his past relationships did as well. both mia and chris, two people he cared for and trusted broke his trust, mia on two different occasions. (pls dont turn this into a anti mia post lol, its just straight canon im just acknowledging what she literally did. what she did affects the people in her life, and this post is about ethan. it doesnt nesscarily matter what her intentions were since the execution was still horrible so pls dont get upset at me)

in re7 he suffers the consequences of someones lie, and it repeats in re8. i feel like he would be far more reserved after re8. he cant trust anyone and he now lives with the knowledge that he and his daughter r bioweapons and there organizations out there to get him. in this AU chris is helping by trying to return ethan to a normal life but after re8 ethan would not trust chris imo. not in a way where he thinks chris will turn him into the BSAA or whatever but more like hes worried that chris is possibly hiding something important or planning something he doesnt know.

he would have major trust issues and probably would have huge difficulty with opening himself up to another connection, especially since leon is friends with chris. ethan would probably be wary due to association.

after re8 he is left with nothing. his wife lied to him again, and the man who was suppose to protect him did a horrible job at it LOL. he has rosemary and thats it. and at any moment someone could take her for being a bioweapon. he would live a life of paranoia and stress trying to give rosemary and normal life while trying to keep her safe at the same time. i feel like getting divorced with mia would be the best option for ethan. as much as they loved each other it wasnt healthy. mia wanted to forget and move on while ethan knew nothing and wanted to understand more. its unfortunate i know. in re8 ethan has a book about weapons and says, "its not paranoia if theyre really out to get you."

its honestly so tragic 😭

in a more realistic way to canon, ethan was doomed to die in that village. a life after it all, after surviving re8 would be horrible. the BSAA is corrupt so hes stuck with chris trying to hide and live a normal life. theres no where for him to go.

BUUTTTTTT... in a cutesy AU where leon and ethan r roomates he gets to heal so yayy. ethan would definetly be very hesitant to open up to leon and would probably not trust him for a long time

for now its just him and rose

[lizbetlovesbyler]

The 3 Part Split

this is good news!!!!!

Ive seen loads of people complaining, which is fair enough - its already been 3 years since s4 came out and blAH BLAH BLAH i alr know im gonna eat it up anyway lets get over it

What strikes me about this 3 part split is that it is ideal for a byler endgame.

Something that always gave me doubt was how on earth they were gonna manage to execute a well written byler romance in s5 when the ship is a very hit or miss with most fans, even the fans who arent partial wouldnt see it coming. Of course theres the beautiful set up we have for it but nobody is going to go back and rewatch those parts if theyre binging all of s5 in one go.

If season 5 is split, however...

its the perfect format for a season with some unexpected and controversial plotlines, leaving time for fans to debate what they think at the point where a byler romance is a legitimate possibility to most fans, but before anything is actually confirmed and set in stone.

The volume 1 of the season tends to cut off at the perfect point as to reveal and not reveal a precise amount of information to make up for a month of discussion. S4V1 left us with loads of questions: "will max survive?" "whats wills painting?" "will el get her powers back?" "is nancy going to get killed by vecna?"

S5V1 will be the same, meaning that a lot of the new plotlines and storyarcs will be linked and so a lot of the answers to any questions we have will come at a similar time in V2 or the finale.

Amongst other supernatural things, I can totally see "byler: will they wont they?" finally be brought into mainstream discussion as the GA catch on.

Ill expect we'll have our work cut out for us in the month following V1 as we reiterate everything weve been saying for years.

"this has come out of nowhere!" "no - look here" "...oh yeah"

[whateverloomis]

I dont know if you know her but can you do a billy x reader x stu with a reader who is lile hrh collections personality-wise?

She is very protective of the boys and whenever theres someone making them feel less then she just makes the person feel stupid and cry 💀

I feel like they would love the chaotic nature of their s/o amd have them do the calls just to make the victims cry

I don't know who she is, sadly :( However I came up with a little list based on your description! Hope you like it anon 🫡💖

🔪Fem reader who's protective over Billy and Stu🔪 (18+ content)

Note: Use of YN and (she/her) pronouns || Unedited

• She would definitely kill someone if she had to in order to protect the boys, and they would do the same for her.

• Stu is more vocal about his feelings, and when he told YN about Casey Becker dumping him for Steve she was immediately in to get some revenge and have fun while doing so.

• The calls Casey received the night of her death were made by YN. She served as the perfect distraction in order for the boys to execute their killings perfectly and without getting caught.

• She'd ask humiliating questions and say the most gruesome things.

"Let's play a guessing game... Who's the dumb blonde victim?"

"I'm gonna chop you up to pieces..."

• Once they got away with that killing spree, and any other kill they had planned, the boys praised YN.

"You're always so good to us baby."

"Tell me who you want to get rid of baby, we'll take care of it for you tonight."

• Billy was complicated when it came to feelings and expressing when he was upset or angry about something.

• When all three of them were planning to kill Sidney Prescott, YN was all for it. She didn't like the girl anyways. YN had to put up with watching Billy pretend he loved her and hear about how he couldn't get her to have sex with him.

• "I can't get her to give in and I'm starting to get tired of this shit." He'd say over and over, and YN would fuck him instead just to take his mind off of it for a little while.

"Fuck, you're so good to me baby."

"Yeah, just like that... Fuck, you feel so good."

Billy would praise YN while she was on top of him, riding his dick and letting him thrust up from underneath her. Use her.

• "When I close the front door, Stu will come out of the kitchen and you'll climb down the stairs so we can corner Sidney, okay baby?" Billy told YN the night they planned to kill Sid and she couldn't help but worry about him. About Stu. Her boys.

• She had to keep them safe. Stick to the plan and make sure everything went smoothly.

• She'd die for the boys if it was necessary. Anything to keep them alive and well.

[superm4ks]

https://x.com/_allthatglitz/status/1865767505974960216 these charles fans need a wake up call. like are they not familiar with idk cota 2018? p18 to p2? no sc? one second away from the lead? max been delivering these kind of performances since he was a 20 year old like... he is not HIM..

Here's the twt for ref. Dont usually reply to asks about 'controversial' f1twt nonsense because like .. there's a reason p0sts like these are contained to Elons stanford experiment but I am familiar wid this person and wud like to discuss her twt further because I find it very puzzling and telling of something some sharl fans shud prolly work up the courage to confront and then like. Find peace or whtvr

Sara here a sharl fan like me. Theres a lot she believes about his qualities as a driver that I do as well. Shes fully convinced he cud be a multiple wdc winner, as am I, and that its a matter of car and personnel for it to happen. Nothing that he lacks has to do wid his lack of legacy so far. I agree wid all of that. So when I saw ur ask and read that twt my first reaction wasnt to be angry just . Puzzled. For somebody whos obvi such a strong believer in sharls' skill to think that a race like Abu Dhabi has anything to do wid Brazil.. How shud I put this, its kind of insulting. To Sharl. Like if u think these drives are in any way comparable that says more about u think Sharls limits are than what makes a drive 'the best'. Sharl hasnt had the machine, the pressure, the conditions or the narrative to complete a turn around like Brazil. But lets put Max's Brazil aside for now, and focus on Abu Dhabi, since thats whats being claimed as the performance that 'stole the race of the season'.

Ferrari arrived in Yas Marina ready to make a final stand, and , extraordinarily, still showing the pace to do so. Mclarens setup was akin to a sentient Dyson wid evil powers, but Ferrari had 2 drivers wid strong AD precedents and Mclaren , wid all due respect, pistachio my most beloved, did not. After dominating fp1, it became evident in fp2 something was wrong wid car 16, and it was announced he wud take a 10 place grid drop to fit a new battery in his horse for quali. The sole vaccinated cavallino on track, Carlos, managed a p4 in the final practice session. It was safe to assume Carlos wud make the front row in quali and sharl wud join him comfortably and begin his hunt from p10. They had a shot. Then sharl missed it. Mclaren completed the front row lockout, Sharls lap time got deleted for track limits in q2 after topping the charts and he never had the chance to disrupt papaya dominance in q3. Out of position, wid a new battery and a teammate in p2 who wud never catch the mcl38 in clean air, that was it. Sharl began the race wid imo the finest first lap of his career, sublime braking and steering into p8. From that point forward, the race was his to manage, and he did so brilliantly. Both horses took advantage of the 1st lap chaos in different ways, but while Carlos' delta to Lando meant he never did the 1 single overtake that actually mattered, Sharls delta to everyone else meant he overtook like 1 car per lap except the 1 that shud have been his to take but couldn't. As he reached George, he undercut the Mercedes, slot into fourth and waited for Lewis to pit. In the end, if Sara wants to bow to that I'll bow wid the bitch no problem. A perfectly executed race, well managed, 16 positions gained, a podium finish. Bend over, ass out, for sure. Again, I beg we remain focused on Abu Dhabi tho. So lets straighten our backs and really look at it. The 2nd fastest car qualified p19 thru driver error and made up 16 places. He finished 25 seconds behind his teammate, who in turn finished 6 seconds behind Lando. In its usual one stopper bore fest, once Lando's mcl38 bolted those hards on low fuel, as a distinguished 2024 ptsd riddled verstappie connoisseur, i knew Carlos hopes to win were dead and buried. Why they didnt just use the pit window to put Carlos on mediums and let him off into the sunset I'll never kno, but thats neither here nor there. Ferrari lost the wcc by the smallest margin since F1 started giving out points for race winners like candy ((25 instead of 10)). 14 points between both teams. Sharl definitely didnt lose Ferrari the wcc. This my analysis of his Abu Dhabi. Sara is very into having Opinions so I'm sure shes got her fair share on my take of those quali consequences, but they did matter. Just like lap 1 incidents matter. Like pace advantage matters. Like DRS matters. Abu Dhabi has 2 DRS zones along 2 straight lines, the point on any track where the sf-24 always finds lap time. One of Sara's arguments is that Abu Dhabi, unlike Interlagos, does not favor comeback drives and thats 1 of the reasons Sharls drive was more impressive than Brazil. .. 🫥 .. In 2021 Yas Marina went thru a series of changes including aforementioned DRS zones and faster corners. Chicanes 5 and 6 were turned into a single wider hairpin, specifically to promote more overtaking, where interestingly enough sharl went outside 4 cars before entering the DRS all the way to t9 in his quest to p4.

Comparing Sharl's Abu Dhabi to Max's Brazil is already extremely odd, but doing so to hype up this season's Abu Dhabi OVER Brazil's in a rage batey type of p0st that included the sentence 'no SC, no particular car advantage, no rain' was so fucking deranged even coming from f1twt I was kinda fascinated and HAD to investigate. I think the reason she felt the need to say all that was because 1) seasons over and they lost the wcc and I think we're all allowed 1 insane take for the Troubles 2) theres 0 to no chance Max's performance in Brazil will be replicated in our lifetime, because Interlagos was not Max's 'best race of the season', it was one of the best drives in Formula 1 history. If ur a sharl fan, and ur next teammate is Lewis Hamilton, I think perhaps a drive like Abu Dhabi's race where sharl was virtually flawless and displayed his potential to the fullest, is something u have to shove next to Brazil, because otherwise you've got nothing. Yet. YET. Thats what bothers me sm wid these fake ass marc herve fans, is that by saying shit like this, by comparing an exemplary comeback stint in Abu Dhabi to a drive that redefined the limits of whats possible to do on a wet track and flipped the odds on a championship title at the same time, they're saying sharl isnt capable of anything remotely close to that. Now I'm not sure what Sara's standards for sharl are, but they sure as fuck arent the same as mine. I think Sharls 2025, like 2024, 2023, 2022, 2021, 2020, will be an improvement. If its Max hes meant to dethrone, then as a verstappie theres nothing more I yearn than to c how it happens. If its Lewis, the feelings the same. When u trust ur dogs to bite, u dont need to put up signs. People will know because they growl. My sharl bares teeth.

Back to my og point. Verstappen's 2024 has nothing to do wid sharl's 2024. Sharl accomplished so many beautiful things in 2024. Conquered Monaco, Monza, delivered great wheel, worked thru a rough path and became one of the season's most consistent performers, went h2h for constructors till the very end in a car that only became competitive halfway into the season. Focus on that, relish in that p3, the potential of that development, Lewis' hiring and the power he brings, the challenge, the potential start of an undeniable legacy for both, or maybe just 1. Max's 2024 doesnt fit in any of this. Brazil had nothing to do wid any of this. Release yourself from the clutches of a mold that cant be replicated because the child it came out broke it at 17. Sharl is not Max, and thats fine, he'll be something else. Maybe better, maybe not. Arent u excited to find out. Wouldst u want to live deliciously instead of angering Max fans on twt because ur jealous they already do

[t3ag3rs]

g e n s o. - 1 5

its a short one yall

you watch him eat quietly before speaking out, 

"so uh.. what time did you end the call yesterday night?" you fiddle with your earring, "when i woke up it said the call only lasted for an hour so.." you trail off glancing at him.

he swallows thickly, "it was nothing-"

you purse your lips, "your lying.." you look at him. "theres something your not saying.."

"fuck off genso. you dont need to know everything" he spat continuing to eat his food.

you widen your eyes, "w-well.. im sorry but- i want to know because out of everyone you chose to call me and actually get along with me yesterday, but for some damn reason today you wanna act like an ass and ignore me!" you exclaim. 

"you did this to me before we even came to UA..! you- you made me promise you to make it to UA so we could be friends again and you just-" you tear up frustrated.

he glances at you quietly before placing his plate down. "dont cry- dammit.." you grunts, running a hand through his untamed hair.

you wipe your tears before they fall, "im not-" you say defensively as you glance the other way.

"genso i-" he starts, "look i didnt go to school today because i was up all night thinking of something- or well someone.." he explains, avoiding eye contact with you.

you widen your eyes, "oh."

should you be feeling... hurt? why did it sting when he said he was thinking of someone? was this normal?

"who..?" you ask, your throat suddenly becoming dry.

he glances up at you before turning back down to his food. "i-" he croaks.

"i dont think she deserves to have someone like me.." he responds. you swear you see his eyes tear up, but dont question it.

"oh kats- bakugou-" you start.

"call me katsuki, not bakugou. weve known each other far too long for you to call me my surname." he mumbles.

"well what happened to that after i finished middle school" you mumble a bit harshly. you turn away from him lowly.

"genso. i didnt want distractions- i had to make it in for u-" he stops abruptly as he admits it.

you widen you eyes and snap your head to him. "for me..?" you ask softly. he grumbles nodding slightly, "oh.. well- even if you meant no harm, you couldve said something you know? it really sucked if im being honest..." you admit rubbing your arm.

"i know.. i kinda fucked up the execution.." he chuckles.

you nod, "yea.." you say agreeing with a small smile, "but uh- ill call you katsuki i guess.. i can understand why you did it.. i kinda got into UA for our promise too.." you admit quietly.

he cant help but smirk slightly, "oh?" 

you smack his arm, "hush- now tell me who the girl is" u say with a tiny smile.

he curses lowly staring at the food before placing it down and turning to you. you adjust to face him too.

"oh for fucks sake.." he pauses, "genso- no- y/n... i-" he tears up.

you widen your eyes. he called you by your actual name.

"y/n.. i dont know how to tell you this- and this may come off as forward or quick but, i fucking cant stop thinking about you." he says blinking his eyes causing tears to roll down.

"i dont know what to do anymore because it physically hurts me to think of you a-and- im scared you hate me. i feel like you deserve someone so much better then me-" he sobs slightly.

your heart lurches at the sight and suddenly you wrap your arms around his shoulders, bringing him close to your chest. "dont." you say softly, cutting him off. 

his body shakes against yours as he buries his face in your neck. you rub his back softly, "katsuki.. weve been friends since we were in kindergarten.. yes, we have had our rough patches, but who doesnt?" 

you pause bringing his face up and wiping his tears, "i dont hate you, if anything i like you so much it frustrates me." you admit.

he looks up at you, "really..?" 

you nod, "really. how can i hate my best friend..?" you ask softly with a small smile.

he grabs your hands that are on his face and bring them down to press a soft kiss on the palm of your hand. "promise?" he mumbles into your hand.

you chuckle,

"promise katsuki.."

previous parts: pt. 0 0 / pt. 0 1 / pt. 02 / pt. 03 / pt. 04 / pt. 05 / pt. 06 / pt. 07 / pt. 08 / pt. 09 / pt. 10 / pt. 11 / pt. 12 / pt. 13 / pt. 14 next part: pt. 16

☆taglist! @katszumi @coolgirl458 @niktwazny303 @twinnintwink @froggybich @friedmagazineprincess @itztaki