#they should both always have the same mouth style at least

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

🔥 hmm one about the makeup choices maybe? (trying my best to come up w a prompt lol)

Nearly every single London based queen having lipstick when the same energy isn't spread towards the toms never made any sense to me. Either give all of them lipstick, or none of them, or choose various from both groups.

Broadway was not *much* better, but at least they were a little bit.

[radiance1]

Damian has beef with a homeless kid. Both as a Wayne, and as Robin.

As a Wayne, Damian being alone outside was a rare thing. Most of the time a sibling would be accompanying him or wouldn't be too far off, but he was well and truly alone for the first in a while.

Then he stepped into an alleyway and nearly got hit in the face. It wasn't unexpected, considering this is Gotham, but it's unusual for a thief to be bare-handed.

They then devolved into a fistfight and, while the other boy's form has at least some foundation it was pitiful in comparison to the Demon's Heir and the son of Batman. But the boy had quite a lot of power that he threw around with his punches and kicks, power that Damian used against him while simultaneously dodging his attacks.

There was an invisible line that the boy refused to let him cross that led deeper into the alleyway, and he somehow managed to do exactly that. Looping Damian right back to their starting positions at the start of this fight, Damian at the mouth and the unknown at the middle point.

Damian then caught sight of familiar green scales, a groan, and a very familiar voice calling out "Kid...?" The boy in front of him seemed, genuinely, panicked at the voice's interruption, but not with fear.

But with worry.

So then Damian left, pushing away each and every notion that he should detain Killer Croc right then and there with the logic that he didn't even have his uniform and the proper equipment to effectively deal with someone of Killer Croc's powerset.

Somehow, whenever he was alone from his siblings, he's always met the boy, whom he learned was called Danny via overhearing Killer Croc speaking to him. Their meetings always started in a fight, and ended with no victor as Damian sneaked away as soon as Killer Croc made his presence known.

No wonder he's been so quiet, it seemed he either had a child or found one.

===

As Robin, Damian would admit that he was caught off guard by the same boy who acted as Killer Crocs 'bodyguard' (either for the mutant himself, or everyone else. He doesn't care enough to find out) and would say it was a good move.

But that was as much praise as he was willing to give.

Robin recognized Danny at first glance, if not in looks than surely the fighting style he was familiarized with over the past few months. A mixture between refined and wild.

As always, he threw far more power than his body should allow for someone of his build and age, so perhaps he was a mutant as well. It didn't matter, what did, however, was how each of the punches thrown could punch straight through a wall.

Robin never let himself get hit fully to test if it could as easily pierce the human body as well.

As usual, Robin was either redirecting, outright dodging or blocking (when he wasn't able to dodge just right enough for the attack to not hit him) the attacks that came his way. And, as always, wherever it seemed Killer Croc went, Danny went as well.

Wherever Killer Croc found this boy, Robin would give him credit for being able to choose his protegees correctly.

Robin let no one else deal with Danny whenever he's on scene along with Killer Croc. His father wouldn't even fight him unless it was necessary, most of the time busy with Killer Croc himself, Nightwing was occupied in his own territory, as well as Red Hood.

Robin would not so humbly refuse to even entertain the idea of Red Robin as a candidate.

When Killer Croc escaped, Robin let his opponent chase after his guardian to nurse the wounds that came, more often than not, from counters to his own attacks.

He always had an excuse ready as for the why.

===

Damian Wayne saw something surprising, when he met Danny again.

Robin's own attack being thrown at him.

Of course, it was sloppy and almost painful to look at. But it still surprised Damian, nonetheless.

He spent some time effectively guiding Danny to perform the attack to an at least practical level. Not that Danny asked, or he offered, but it was easy to guide the flow of the fight to what he wanted.

===

Robin was surprised. Not to any great level, but it caught him off guard.

Danny had almost perfectly countered his attack.

It was still sloppy in some places, needed a bit more refining and a great less of the power that was unconsciously behind it. Other than that, it was performed that Damian could say he was almost impressed.

Danny landed a hit on him, and he was quite sure he may have broken a rib, bruised his chest, or both.

So of course, he ruthlessly beat the boy into the ground while pointing out each and every flaw in his technique. Then let him run off after his... master? Father?

He does not know the significance of the role Killer Croc plays to the boy, but he let him run away after him back to the sewer systems.

Of course, an excuse already on lips for his father to hear, and even better, physical evidence to back up his claim.

[coffee-and-geto]

“WHO YOU GONNA CALL? CURSEHUNTER!”

“That’ll cost you 33,000 yens, ma’am.” “What?!” “Unless you offer other methods of payment. I’m flexible by nature, though.”

pairing: curse hunter! toji fushiguro x f!reader | kinkoctober m.list

summary: for halloween, you and your group of friends — where your boyfriend has taken a break from your relationship — decide to spend the evening in an old mansion turned into a hotel. with a rather strange staff and weird things going on in the mansion, everything leads you to end up calling a specialist to the situation — toji, the curse hunter for your evening can do his job, sure, but that doesn’t mean he’ll let you off the hook so easily when you can’t afford him…

warnings: +18 ONLY, smut, nsfw, AU with curses, haunted house, (slight) angst, cheating because the reader has an (ex) boyfriend but he’s a cheater, utahime makes an appearance, sex (p in v), squirting, oral (f! receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, fingering (f! receiving), overstimulation, lot of teasing, doggy + missionary positions, size kink.

wc: 5,963

“Wow!”

“It’s a really scary décor!” comments one of your friends, covering her mouth as her jaw drops in surprise.

“Same for the staff,” you add with a frown, glancing around at the spooky theme that’s everywhere—the walls, the bedrooms, even the kitchen and living room. But you can’t ignore how strange the staff in the lobby were when you all checked in for your rooms.

“Don’t be silly, it’s all part of the ambiance.” Your boyfriend nudges you playfully with his elbow, flashing his usual smirk, but this time it doesn’t work. You’re so tired of him.

“And she’s right,” snaps Utahime, who links her arm with yours to pull you further away from the annoying duo made up of one of your friends and your boyfriend. “But of course, coming from you…” She scrunches her nose, looking annoyed.

You sigh. “It’s fine, Hime, I can handle it—”

“This jerk needs a scare big enough to make him crap his pants, believe me,” she interrupts, gently tugging you along as she takes the lead to find your bedroom. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

You glance back toward the rooms of the others, including your boyfriend, then look forward with a disappointed pout. His attention should be on you, not anyone else—it should be shining like a star for you, not for some friend.

“Do you think the story about this manor is true?” you whisper when Utahime finally finds room 311-1.

She shakes her head but hurries to unlock the door, casting nervous glances at the dim hallway lights, which are anything but reassuring. “The point is to get us in the mood, obviously, but the staff went a bit too hard with the costumes…”

Finally, you both step into the room, where the soft, victorian decor makes your friend sigh with relief.

“At least the room itself isn’t weird,” she laughs, relaxing a little.

You smile faintly, taking in the shared bedroom. “Yeah, not too bad.”

In the next hour, the two of you have fun picking apart the manor’s ambiance, spinning wild theories about the place. Your mood lifts again, and since you already had dinner on the way here, at least you don’t have to worry about the creepy staff involving you in some haunted-house-style horror event.

Or worse, poisoning you.

But what a ridiculous idea, right?

There’s no reason for that. No one would do that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come.

~~~~

Why always you?

Of course. Your brain had to convince you, “No danger; they haven’t announced a Halloween night event yet!”

“You will be paired up in twos by random draw,” a staff member dressed as the Joker announces cheerfully, handing out small slips of paper with numbers and a map that looks much like a pirate’s treasure map, but is actually the hotel floor plan. “When you enter the first room — different for each pair — you’ll find an object and a riddle that will indicate which room is next.”

He bounces slightly in front of the reception desk, nearly giddy with excitement, which is unsettling given the blood-red lines around the corners of his mouth.

“This means that whoever finds the most hidden spots will win a prize at the end of the night,” he concludes, looking over your group one by one. “But be careful — this mansion has a spooky history, and some ghosts may come to visit!” He laughs, joined by a few others.

As you examine your number, you look around for your boyfriend, hoping to have drawn the same number so you can spend some time with him despite the break he recently put on your relationship. But no.

One of your friends — Nami, the one who’d commented on the decor — is already giggling beside him, paying no attention to you or the boundaries she’s crossing with her little “friendly” touches.

You inhale deeply, trying to ignore the sharp sting of jealousy. Just then, Utahime leans over your shoulder, checking your number. “Hey, looks like we’re together!”

You let a smile spread over your face and head with her to the first floor, where the first prize is hidden.

“I hope they didn’t hire any actors to scare us, or I might just hurt someone,” you mutter darkly, the dim lighting and ornate wallpaper in the hallways sending a chill down your spine.

“Same,” Utahime chuckles softly, pulling out a small flashlight. She switches it on and shines it ahead. “This should help, right? Check the map.”

You do, studying the hallway details on the paper to get your bearings. “Yeah, we’re close to room 456,” you say, looking up.

In a long walk that feels like it stretches out forever, Utahime and you move at the same steady pace, maintaining a comfortable distance, wrapped in silence as though no one else is on any floor.

“We’re here,” you announce as Utahime shines her light on the brass plaque for room 456.

You open the door carefully, flicking on the light, and catch a vague movement out of the corner of your eye near the edge of the sitting area. You snap your head in that direction, but there’s nothing.

“Did they set up special effects?” you wonder aloud.

“Probably,” Utahime reassures you, heading towards a bookshelf where a velvet-covered box with emerald and gold accents catches her eye. She grabs it, opening it to find a slip of parchment and a key.

You take a more careful look around the room, inspecting every corner, and almost miss what Utahime has found until she calls out to you.

“Next room, here we come!” she says happily.

~~~~

“Is it just me, or have we been walking for a while?” you remark after several minutes of silence, back in the hallway but on the second floor this time.

“Yeah, feels like it.” Utahime swings her flashlight around, lighting up the walls, curtains, and carpet in the dimly lit halls. It’s as if the already faint lights were growing even weaker.

BANG!

Both of you jump, turning in unison towards the unknown source of the noise.

“Fuck,” Utahime curses, “them and their damn effects.”

You exhale a shaky breath meant to calm your still-racing heart, but the cold breath on the back of your neck isn’t helping. “Utahime, is that you—” You turn to look at your friend, who’s cautiously moving closer to you, when a piercing female scream echoes throughout the hotel.

“Can we cancel this night?” Utahime doesn’t wait for your answer, grabbing your arm and dragging you into a frantic sprint down the corridors, where more and more doors seem to open and close on their own.

Then, suddenly, something grabs you by the arm, pulling you into the darkness.

When you finally open your eyes, you’re half-sprawled on the floor in partial darkness, with only the faint candlelight the hotel keeps in the eerie corridors as a precaution. You stand up immediately, pulling out your phone in an attempt to send a message to your friends’ group chat, but no one is active.

You then try to call reception, your eyes scanning an environment that no longer feels amusing in the slightest. This has to be part of the game.

Doesn’t it?

But after several rings, no one picks up.

“Goddamnit,” you mutter.

You resign yourself to finding a door, a room, or anything that could help you call the police or figure out a way to avoid getting caught by a real ghost in this creepy manor.

Your gaze scans the walls, your phone’s light barely illuminating the darkest corners due to its low battery. And the only thing that stands out is a notice pinned to the wall that has you scrambling to get your phone out again.

IN CASE OF EMERGENCY DURING THE HALLOWEEN HUNT, IF THE RECEPTION DOESN’T RESPOND, CALL THIS NUMBER:

You dial it, barely caring who it might reach given the seriousness of your situation.

After the second ring, someone picks up, their tone filled with mocking amusement and a hint of nonchalance:

“Hello?”

You’re saved.

~~~~

Back to square one — you’re anything but saved.

“This is the emergency response?” you spit out, feeling lost and baffled as you stand before a man approaching you about twenty minutes after a more-than-frustrating phone call.

He’s tall, broad-shouldered, with toned muscles and an arrogance that seeps from every pore of his skin.

“Toji Fushiguro, at your service, ma’am,” he replies sarcastically, giving a slight bow, a smug smile stretching the scar across his mouth.

“And you are…?”

“A curse hunter — don’t ask too many questions, I’m used to it,” he cuts you off, striding past without a glance. “Just follow me.”

You stand there, speechless, frozen to see if he’ll react, but he just keeps whistling and walking.

You were in deep trouble.

Reluctantly, you catch up, glaring at him coldly as he gives you a quick glance. “Do you have the money?”

“That’s really all you care about?” you retort bitterly. “Isn’t the hotel supposed to cover emergencies like this? We’re all lost, and—”

“Careful!!” Toji pushes you against the wall, pulling out a unique sword with a red and gold hilt and slashing it sharply through the air.

Nothing seems to have been hit at the moment, but the distinct sound of the slice is unmistakable.

“So, it wasn’t a joke when they said there were ghosts?”

“Curses,” he corrects, sheathing his weapon. He surveys the rest of the hallway and looks up at the ceiling. “They’re on the floor above.”

Several minutes later, you’re there, with high-pitched screams filling the air; among them, you recognize Utahime’s and some of your other friends. You start to rush to her, but Toji grabs you by the waist.

“Hold up!” he tuts, looking a bit more serious. “The lady stays here.”

“But my friend is in there!” you protest, struggling to break free.

“What a little firebrand!” Toji grumbles, pinning you against the wall. His warm breath brushes your face, and you hold back the urge to kick him. When he breathes in to speak, your intoxicating scent fills his nose. “I’m the pro here, got it? I’ll save your friend, and then we’ll talk about the price.” He releases you when you hold his gaze firmly enough to make him trust you.

“If anything happens to her, I’ll make you eat every one of your damn curses, okay?”

He snorts before disappearing down the corridor.

In the next hour, all the curses are quickly neutralized — even if no one actually sees them, their heavy, lingering “presence” was enough to give away what was happening.

“Most people went back to their rooms,” Toji informs you, guiding you toward your floor.

“That was fast.”

“As usual,” he sighs, hands in his pockets.

“Why isn’t the staff responding?” you ask, feeling more reassured and open to conversation now.

“It’s a real haunted manor, so they know that when you play, you just risk being bugged by the curses, nothing more.” He shrugs, pulling out his phone to check the time, and you mentally slap yourself for noticing how his forearm muscles flex slightly. “Plus those fuckers are never there on time to pay me, even though they require my services.”

“Oh, right, your payment…” You avert your eyes, walking past your room without entering. Maybe it’s best to go look for the staff…right?

“I only take cash,” Toji says, putting his phone away. “And I charge by the half-hour.”

You blink, swallowing nervously because you know you lied earlier on the phone when he told you the amount he typically earns per job.

“…Yeah?”

He chuckles softly, stopping to face you, while you do the same. Up close, he’s breathtaking — his emerald-green eyes, sharply defined jaw, his whole form could have been sculpted from ice.

“That’ll cost you 33,000 yens, ma’am.”

“What?!”

“Unless you’re offering alternative methods of payment. I’m flexible, by nature,” he adds ironically.

Your face falls, and you try to stay calm, knowing you’re in real trouble if he realizes you barely have enough for a can of soda.

“Great, so, I’m going to get paid by a pretty lady, huh?” he whispers, leaning in dangerously close until your back gently hits the wall.

“Can’t you lower the price?” you ask, slightly flustered, forcing a smile to hide the panic clutching at your insides. “Maybe my friends and I can work something out to pay you.”

“But it’s the one who calls who pays,” Toji coos softly, lifting a hand to play with a strand of your hair. “They didn’t ask for anything.”

“But they were saved,” you insist, feeling like a pleading child trying to avoid punishment.

Toji gently shakes his head, a barely-there smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t you have a boyfriend? Maybe he’ll take care of it, then.”

“Yes, but…” You feel a chill at the mention of your boyfriend, whom you haven’t seen since the start of the evening, “we need to find him. He’s probably asleep.”

“Describe him to me, I’ll tell you if he’s around,” Toji murmurs, and his words feel like a subtle threat as you describe him. His brow furrows. “You sure?”

“Yes, why?” Suddenly, your heart starts pounding faster.

What’s with that reaction?

He doesn’t respond, darting off down the hallway without waiting for you to catch up — though you do, anyway. It’s as if each step drives a knife deeper into your chest.

Please, don’t tell me they—

You freeze, stopping in front of a room with a slightly open door, where your boyfriend is indeed present.

But he’s not alone.

Perched above him on a sofa is Nami, straddling him, passionately kissing him. The worst part is seeing them smile at each other without noticing you, your boyfriend’s hands gently stroking his “friend’s” hips.

“They have been here since I came.”

You flutter your eyes closed.

Toji stands silently beside you. “So, he’s cheating on you, or am I wrong?” he murmurs, perhaps also feeling uncomfortable at the sight.

You step back, your chest tight, biting your lip. You hold back tears of both anger and hurt. It stings a thousand times more seeing your partner betray you like this rather than just admitting he no longer loves you, doesn’t it?

You look up at Toji, your eyes likely already red and gleaming.

No, this is definitely anger. You just want to let some curse devour him whole.

“I don’t have the money, sorry,” you admit through clenched teeth, turning on your heel to leave. “Do whatever you want; I don’t care anymore.”

“Hey.” He loosely grabs your wrist, stopping you.

You barely turn back. You’re hurt, yes, but also furious that you didn’t end things with your boyfriend yourself. What a shame, right? It should’ve been you hurting him, not him hurting—

“You know what I see?” Toji takes a few steps toward you, a mocking smile on his lips. He leans in to speak near your ear, his well-built chest brushing against yours. “I see someone filled with rage. You want revenge, don’t you?”

But you’re in no mood to laugh.

He sighs, realizing his attempt at humor fell flat. “Alright, alright. Listen.” He stands in front of you, hands still in his pockets as he leans against the wall. “I’m not the best at comforting people, but… how about a deal?”

You blink.

“We’re both in an… awkward situation, you see. I need to get paid, and you’re on the brink of committing murder.” A smile spreads across his lips.

You still don’t smile.

“So,” he looks down, a bit distracted and uncomfortable despite his smug expression, “I wasn’t totally joking when I said I’d accept other forms of payment. Plus, I think your lil’ guy here needs someone to teach him a less—”

But you cut him off instantly, grabbing the collar of his black T-shirt with both hands and pulling him toward you to crush your lips against his.

Toji, surprised for a second, quickly recovers, gripping your hips to pull you impossibly closer, his lips following yours, attempting to soothe the fury they carry in anger.

He moves backward with you, eyes closed as he pushes open another slightly ajar door to a room, kicking it shut behind him. He pulls back, watching you intently.

Your gaze softens oddly as it meets his. He raises an eyebrow, almost repeating his question from a minute ago, and you nod. “I accept,” you murmur, and his face lights up.

Leaning toward you again, his lips capture yours in another heated kiss that ignites with raw desire. “Fuck. What kind of boyfriend he is, huh?” Toji growls between breathless kisses. “With a girlfriend with lips this sweet, hmm?”

Your feet tangle with his, each step unsure, trying to avoid falling anywhere other than the softness of the couch. You gasp, trying to catch your breath, but everything about Toji makes breathing impossible. “Toji, you—”

“Bet he’s got a small one, doesn’t he?” The blush flooding your face makes him smirk, his scar brushing your jaw as his mouth descends to your pulse. “Knew it.” He nips at your shoulder, his tongue darting out to leave a mark that’ll remind you of him for a good while.

“Toji, please—” you sigh, wincing in pleasure as he presses open-mouthed kisses down your neck, leaving two hickeys in his wake. You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle the sweet sounds spilling out — especially when he brings his knee up between your legs, rubbing it sloppily against your heated core.

“Let ’em out, doll,” he mutters, his hands roaming across your chest slowly before he yanks, popping the buttons off and exposing your bare skin to him. “I want him to hear just how good I make you feel, how loud I can make you scream my name.”

He doesn’t even give you time to protest; he’s already unclasping your bra and kneading your soft breasts, leaving you arching with pleasure from his teasing alone. And if his hands can do this... what about his cock?

He takes his time, pinching and rolling your hardened nipples between his fingers. You moan for real this time, back arching, chest heaving with quickened breaths. “Ahh— Wan’ more,” you whine, the sound going straight to his strained, clothed arousal.

“Am I the one who’s supposed to be saying that?” Toji laughs, enjoying the sight of you squirming and pouting under his teasing, his tongue swirling and rolling over one breast while his fingers toy with the other.

“Toji.”

He lifts his head, pulling his mouth from your breast with a wet pop and tilting his head to the side, that devilish grin still on his lips. “What is it, doll?” He doesn’t even bother wiping away the thin string of saliva connecting his lips to your sensitive nipple.

You writhe beneath him, trying to shimmy off your pants, but the tight space between you two makes the task more challenging than expected.

He chuckles — a rough sound — and grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head, trapping you beneath him. “Getting needy, are we? Looks like you need a hand,” he coos, sliding his thick fingers down your bare chest before slipping the tip of his finger under your waistband.

The touch is electrifying. Both infuriating and warm, as Toji tests your patience.

With his finger still just inside your clothing, he trails it down to your hips before stopping. “Lift your hips for me.” You obey, his low “good girl” making your poor core clench around nothing. His finger is soon joined by the rest of his hand, and he easily slides it down to remove your pants in one smooth motion. “There you go…”

“When I said I wanted more, I meant here,” you mumble, glancing down at the small damp patch in the center of your panties, so exposed for him.

“Naughty, huh?” Toji releases your wrists, kneeling down between your thighs. He grips your hips tightly, his thumbs pressing firmly, leaving slight indents in your skin. “So pretty, so soft,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your inner thighs, kissing and nibbling until you’re gasping.

“You— You’re teasing,” you pant, burying your fingers in his dark hair, tugging lightly when he brushes his nose against your puffy clit through the damp fabric.

“I am,” he admits, laying the flat of his tongue over the wet patch before inhaling. “Smells and tastes so good, doll.” And your cheeks go flush again as he quickly strips your panties off and tosses them onto the couch’s headrest.

“Sh-shut up!”

“You’re adorable when I get dirty with you, but you’re just as dirty, so don’t,” he says, wrapping his sculpted arms around your hips and pulling you against his face. “try to turn the tables,” he finishes, his voice muffled between your drenched folds. “Wonder why that jerk cheated on you,” he adds, lapping at your clit as you let out needy whimpers.

“Shit. Easy, I’m sensitive,” you babble, digging your nails into his shoulder as he starts devouring you with real intent.

“Love those sounds, by the way,” he murmurs, sucking on your sweet bundle of nerves, ignoring the persistent ache in his pants as his cock begs to be freed, desperate to plunge deep inside you.

Your eyelids flutter closed, your teeth sinking into your lower lip, trying to keep Toji’s name from spilling from your mouth as he tightens his grip on you, practically smashing your soaked core against his face but the way his lips close everytime around your clit with slowness is just unbearable.

Sounds of heavy breaths, licks, and wetness fill the room, turning the atmosphere almost sauna-like. Your pulse pounds in your temples, your heartbeat frantic.

“You’re still not loud enough.” And he remedies that quickly, pressing his nose against your clit as he slowly thrusts his tongue inside you, your walls clenching around it with lewd, wet sounds because of how slick you are for him. And now, he’s thrusting his tongue even deeper, humming in approval when you throw your head back, tugging harder on his dark locks.

“Shit! Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” you cry out, toes curling as your nails dig into his skin before scratching it up.

“That’s it,” he purrs, helping you buck your hips against him as you mewl and moan thanks to his tongue. “Let him hear how good ya feel, yeah?” He brings a hand to your clit to rub it gently, then pinches it roughly. He bullies your snug cunt with each deep and precise thrust of his tongue, brushing your sweet spot every time, and you’re sure you’ll die if you don’t come right after.

And he probably knows it, because as if reading your mind, he withdraws his tongue from your twitching insides and licks his lips shamelessly — your glossy juices shining on them.

“Wanna hear how good you feel louder, doll, ’kay?” He brings a finger to your trembling entrance, pressing gently against the delicious barrier just waiting to be crossed. “You’re so close, baby,” he chuckles, eyes dilated with desire. “Hear me out, I’m gonna make you cum, and you’re gonna be a good girl. Understood?” He gently pats your thigh.

You nod, lips trembling from anticipation, eyes half-closed as he inserts his forefinger into you — and now you’re even tighter with his digit replacing his tongue. How would it feel with something bigger? The pad of his finger hits your sensitive g-spot right away.

“Ah!” you whine. The knot in your stomach coils tighter, ready to explode. “Toji, I’m almost cumming, please, just—”

He cuts you off, a low grunt escaping his lips as he crashes his mouth on your clit, treating it like a toy and bullying it over and over until you can’t stop your legs from shaking uncontrollably — as he finger-fucks you and sucks on your oversensitive clit.

“Fuck! Feels s’good, Toji, please,” you moan, your insides throbbing around his finger, while his second finger joins the first, finger-fucking you as you squirm on the couch, feeling the wet patch under your ass marking the mess you’re making.

“Cum, doll, now,” Toji orders, his voice strained, unable to ignore the throbbing in his own pants. His mouth is relentless on your clit, his fingers curling inside you just right, as if coaxing your body to surrender completely.

Right at the edge, you wrap your legs around his neck, sobbing out his name as you cum — hard. Your walls clamp down around his fingers, your body trembling as you release.

Your boyfriend never made you cum this hard, not even close.

You realize you actually squirted when you hear Toji swallowing, his eyes fluttering closed as he drinks every drop, even as your body keeps spasming after he finally pulls his fingers out of you.

When your breathing slows, Toji pulls back from your thighs, looking up to meet your gaze after the powerful orgasm he just brought you to.

“Tell me…” He licks the last traces of you off his chin, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Is that the first time you’ve squirted?” he asks, leaning down to place a tender kiss on your oversensitive clit.

You bite back a whimper, trying to steady your trembling legs. “Y-Yeah,” you confess, swallowing hard, noticing his black shirt dampened with your cum. “I didn’t mean to make that mess, I’m sorry—”

“Why’re you apologizing?” He kisses your inner thigh, soothing your shakiness with soft caresses. “The only one who should be begging for forgiveness is the jerk in the other room,” he mutters in a low, rough voice. The contrast between his tender kisses and harsh words about your boyfriend makes your heart skip a beat. “I bet he’s crying like a lil’ boy,” he chuckles.

You force a smile, though there’s still a slight sting from the betrayal. “He should be, yeah.”

His expression softens. “C’mon, doll, don’t give me that look,” he sighs, rising from his crouched position to remove his pants. “Just forget him, even if it’s hard, hmm?” He ignores the growing bulge in his boxers, leaning down to kiss you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

You hum, kissing him back slowly, eyes closed. With each kiss, you feel a warmth, a tenderness there that surprises you. Why do his lips feel so gentle, so... caring? A feeling you can’t quite place?

Between kisses, you take soft breaths, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close. He doesn’t resist, his tongue teasing along your soft, warm lips.

“Want to stop?” he murmurs, his voice unexpectedly soft and low.

You flutter your eyes open and shake your head. “I’d like to continue, if you don’t wanna stop,” you mutter back.

His gaze softens more, seeing you beneath him, flushed and vulnerable. “Of course. I don’t think I could stop even if I tried… especially not with…” His gaze drops, his cheeks flushing slightly, “...this.”

You glance down at his painfully hard length pressing against his boxers, the small wet patch testifying to how badly he wants you.

“Mm, sorry,” he grumbles.

But you gently cup his face, pulling him into another kiss as you reach down to slip his boxers off. He helps you free him from his strained confines, and you both share a heated kiss. Toji leans over you, leaving soft kisses along your lips, cheeks, jaw, and down your neck.

The tender moment gradually heats up as impatience grows, your legs tangling with his. When something warm brushes your stomach, you shiver, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist.

His size… he’s big. His cock is thick and already straining, eager to be buried deep inside you.

“Can you fuck me?” you whisper, blinking up at him with soft, pleading eyes.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Toji chuckles, a low rumble shaking his chest.

He grabs you by the hips, laying you down on the couch to position you as he aligns himself at your entrance. Toji takes his cock in his hand and guides it to you, so big compared to your cute, petite pussy that’s about to take all of him in so well…

When the flushed tip of his cock brushes against your soaked folds, you hold your breath to keep from moaning even before he’s begun. But Toji can be a bastard in his own way — drawing slow, torturous circles around your puffy clit, then sliding down to gather your juices from between your folds, which he spreads apart to make room for him.

“As honest as you,” he scoffs, gently tapping your tight ring of resistance with the tip. He looks down at you, your form much smaller than his — Toji is big all over, from his muscles to his cock, and all he wants is to ruin your smallness.

And this bastard keeps eye contact, teasing the entrance with his slick tip, just to watch you break — your lips parted, eyes slightly squinted, hands weakly gripping him.

“Toji,” you moan weakly, squirming gently. “Please, just more, please.” And your voice is so soft, so velvety, he might have come right then.

Oh God, you’ll be the death of him.

And as if it wasn’t enough, you keep repeating his name in that same tone, making his urge to slip inside you unbearable.

“Fuck, doll, don’t moan my name like that or—” But you wrap your legs tighter around him, pulling his tip to your dripping entrance so that it’s already inside, your gummy, warm walls tightening around him, drawing him in deeper.

“I wanna take it,” you whine softly, bucking your hips forward, your snug cunt swallowing half of him. “Oh—”

“Ah— Shit,” Toji hisses, leaning down to press your small body against his, burying his face in your neck. But the worst part is, he seems to lose control of his body, which thrusts deeper into you on its own, your clingy walls gripping him tightly from the start.

He stretches you too quickly, but it feels so good you wonder if you might be ovulating. “Ah— Oh— Fuck, s’deep, s’big,” you babble, low and cute mumbles, as you curl your toes and roll your eyes back from his size. “Too big, Toji, too big.”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” He pushes in even deeper until you’ve taken all of him and his tip brushes your womb.

Without even moving, he nearly came. But he has to hold back. To make you come on his cock, fuck you senseless, and let you scream his name so that the entire manor knows you’re his.

“Mine,” Toji groans, thrusting gently into you once you’ve adjusted, his hips meeting yours perfectly. “So wet f’me.” His breathing becomes ragged, his thoughts consumed by how impossibly tight you are. “And so fuckin’ tight.” He speeds up the pace a little, reveling in the sound of your mewls growing louder. “Gonna make you mine tonight, ’kay?”

In the room, only the squelching sounds and the slap of skin against skin fill the air. Your mind spins, the pleasure so intense and overwhelming that you can barely respond to what Toji says.

You’re reduced to a pile of whimpers, thinking only of TojiTojiTojiToji.

And he knows it, especially as you tighten around him and he lets out a guttural groan. His hips pound into you with more speed and roughness, but it’s still not enough. He wants you to fall apart for him when you cum, fucking your little pussy with his big, big cock.

Such a filthy size kink.

Then he pulls out, grabbing your hips to flip you over onto your stomach, making sure the plush cushions support you properly, and he slams back in, pounding rougher, deeper, and so much better than a second ago.

Now, you feel him at a depth you’ve never reached before, your sweet cunt clinging to him each time he pulls out only to push in just as deep. “Ah! So deep, so deep, Toji,” you sniffle, unable to keep your moans quiet any longer. “Wanna cum, gonna cum with you.” You bury your face between two cushions.

The heat between your two bodies is almost unbearable, small beads of sweat rolling down Toji’s toned chest as he chuckles, half-breathless, leaning over you to sink even deeper.

And you wonder how it’s even possible.

“You take it so well, doll,” he purrs, tightening his grip around your waist as your twitching insides pulse around his cock, right on the edge of making him spill his hot load inside you. But the rhythmic slap of his heavy balls against your clit is enough to keep him from the edge, for now. “You want to be filled up? Say it, baby. I don’t—  No, he can’t hear you,” he chuckles, kissing your neck as the depth makes you see stars through tears of pleasure.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine louder, “wanna be full of your cum, please, Toji.” His thick, heavy balls are now the biggest turn-on, so big you just want to drain them to fill yourself up. “I’m close, so close,” you sob, pleading with him.

“Me too, doll, so let’s cum together, yeah?” he chortles, because, God, how small and cute you are. He admires, for a moment, the hickeys covering your skin and the scratches you left on his arms. He’s fucking you like a mad, possessed man.

You sniffle, nodding and writhing to take him fully, but you already have. Your wet, tight, warm cunt swallowing him up, desperate for every inch. He’ll fulfill his mission. Even if he wasn’t paid, he stopped caring about that long ago. Now he just wants youyouyou.

And as your synchronized hip movements, bringing the both of you to the edge, you cum hard again. Your sweet pussy clenches around his length, swallowing and milking him as your shaky legs can’t support you anymore. A cry of pleasure escapes you. Toji shuts his eyes, moaning your name as he empties himself inside you, filling your womb with his thick, sinful load.

Only stolen breaths, the overwhelming scent of sex, and small whimpers remain in the aftermath. Silence falls, all troubles vanish, and the night finally grows peaceful.

You wipe away the dried tear tracks on your cheeks and turn your head slightly to meet Toji’s calm gaze. “What about my shirt?”

“I’ve got a spare; want it?” he offers, not pulling out right away. You simply nod, and he adds with a smirk, “An’ if you’re free tonight, you’re up for a little getaway with me?”

“But Utahime and—”

“They’ll wake up like nothing happened, I promise,” Toji reassures you, and you grin.

“Deal.”

~~~~

Meanwhile, back in the room with Nami and your ex, a 4 grade curse — harmless but just annoying enough — flits around happily. Nami is fast asleep on the floor, but your ex has dark bags under his twitching eyes, having not slept a wink.

Between your cries of pleasure and everything else that went on, he understood that the mysterious man who had come to “rescue” them was thoroughly enjoying everything he’d been hoping to do with you for weeks, despite your refusals — the reason behind your “break” or rather, breakup. The curse, left by Toji on purpose, has a parrot effect: it repeats everything it hears in a loop, driving anyone nearby mad.

“Ah! Shit, Toji! Feels so good!” it shrieks in a piercing voice, buzzing around your ex’s head like a fly.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

a/n: hey everyone :) so okay okay, this fic contains much more smut than i usually write (hope at least it’ll be worth it haha). i still feel bad about having missed kinkoctober but anyway, at least we’re here <3 i’ve struggled a bit with the start of the fic but the smut was (for once lol) quite easy to write. happy reading <33

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobeenhappy-blog @drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq

@sanemistar @monokaix

[apomaro-mellow]

I finally wrote about stobin carhops

“I can’t believe we got another job using one resume”, Steve said.

“I can’t believe you said we were managers at Scoops”, Robin said.

“How are they gonna check, Robs?”

“Good point. You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

The new job at a local burger joint was decidedly in the ballpark of both of their abilities. The only drawback for Robin was....the skates.

“So these are a requirement? Not like, a suggestion?”, she asked, looking at the roller skates warily. Steve was already lacing up.

“They are in fact a requirement”, Cheryl, their current manager said.

Robin slipped and slid while on wheels. Which was why for about 90% of their first shift, she rolled along arm in arm with Steve.

“What’s even the point of having someone skate your food to you? I mean it seems like a total novelty. Purely for shits and giggles for customers.”

“You nailed it. It’s novelty.” As they rolled around the lot, Steve used the hand that was free to deliver food to the different cars. Robin used her free hand to write down the orders.

This system worked for about a week before Cheryl told them they couldn’t do that anymore. The very next day, Robin dropped five orders (two of which were on purpose) and was removed from her carhop responsibilities.

She kept her post at the register and the pick up window.

The uniform consisted of a white polo-style shirt with red accents. Most of the staff wore red pants to match. Some of the girls beat the heat with red shorts though.

“What are you wearing?”, Robin asked when Steve clocked in one day in those very same shorts.

“Uh, the uniform?”

“Uh-huh. Feelin’ the heat lately?”

“It’s been pretty warm the past few days”, Steve said.

“And I best the change has nothing to do with the fact Eddie said he’d be by on your lunch break today.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Steve tried to look neutral but his voice was way too chipper for someone who had to smell grease this early in the morning.

Robin knew for sure Eddie had arrived. She didn’t have a full view of the lot when she was at the register but she did see Steve lose control and skate right into a light pole. That could only mean Eddie was nearby. She let them have their lunch alone, knowing they would be sickeningly lovey-dovey the whole time.

-------------------------------------------

“You know....”, Steve started. “I bet Vickie would lose it if you were in shorts.”

“Actually, she said my teeth are my best feature”, Robin smiled wide.

“You two are so weird”, Steve laughed through it while mopping the floor.

“This from the guy who spent two whole hours staring at his boyfriend’s hands.”

“I didn’t-”

“TWO HOURS!”

------------------------------------

Steve let out a sigh when he saw that Eddie had driven Erica along as well.

“You already know”, Erica said. “Chocolate vanilla swirl.”

“Erica, I know I said free ice cream for life but-”

“But nothing. You thought you could get out of it by switching jobs. But karma always finds its way back.”

“I don’t think me working at a fast food place is karma. Right?”, Steve looked to Eddie, like he was worried this really was the work of cosmic forces.

“I don’t know...” Eddie leaned out of his open window to get a better look at Steve’s legs. “Feels like karma to me.”

Steve grinned when he noticed being checked out and leaned in towards the window. He opened his mouth but Erica beat him to it.

“You can flirt when you’re not on the clock. Ice cream. Chop chop!”

-------------------------------

It was a slow day for once, so Robin and Steve were sitting on the hood of his car, sharing some fries between them.

“What do you think our next job is gonna be?”, Steve asked.

“I think after this we should branch out. Maybe go for the federal government? Or at least look for managerial positions.”

“Would a place hire two managers at once?”

“One for the day shift and one for the night?”, Robin said, pointing at herself for day and Steve for night.

“But then we’re not gonna see each other.”

“Shoot, you’re right. What about working as mail carriers? You drive, I’ll put them in the box.”

“That’s actually perfect.”

“Great!”, Robin exclaimed. “So when this place burns down or gets destroyed by a quake-”

“Or a flood, or a tornado, or another fire-”

“Point is, we already know what our fallback is. And it’s perfect because everybody always needs mail.”

“It’s kind of crazy how we’ve never been fired. And that our past work places have been leveled”, Steve said. “I really think we could put anything on our resumes at this point.”

“Lemme get a couple of college credits before we start lying to get better jobs.”

“So another couple of months?”

“And you’ll be talking to the new CEO of something or other.”

“Co-CEO”, Steve reminded her, holding up a medium soda.

“Co-CEOs”, Robin tapped hers to his in a toast.

@little-gae-shit

[ihavethedreamies]

Birthday Surprise | Baekhyun

Byun Baekhyun - EXO

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~3.5k

Pairing: Baekhyun x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Cute, Sweet

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Kissing, Bit of Swearing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, Wall Sex, Unprotected Sex (Don't!)

Author's Note: This a story requested by/written for my friend @sadfragilegirl! I hadn't written something to post for EXO yet. It’s a little early for her actual birthday, but she didn't mind, so here is this as well~

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

Sighing again, you found your eyes drifting to your phone again. Tapping the screen, there were still no new notifications. You understood with the time difference and his busy schedule that your boyfriend didn't always have a second to spare and reply. You didn't take it personally; it just was hard when you missed him as much as you did. The first week of a tour was always the hardest, but then it would get easier. After time passed though, the harder and harder it would get again. At least with Baekhyun's solo career, he was gone for a shorter time than with the whole group. You also never kept close track of his tours, only what he would tell you. It was too difficult to watch the fancams others would post, because they got to be there and not you. You had to work yourself though and couldn't go with him.

Another sigh left your lips and you reluctantly went back to watching the show on the TV. You didn't even remember what you had put on initially, but it had changed. Your phone dinged and you nearly gave yourself whiplash looking at it, but your shoulders slumped. Your food was there. Grumbling, you got up from the couch, shuffling in your slippers to the door. When you opened the door, there was the food you ordered and you grabbed the bag, but there was something else too. A box was set next to your food, and it looked like it might have been there before. It was white with a red ribbon and a red envelope stuck to it. Picking it up with your other hand, it wasn't very heavy, you headed back inside. You hadn't ordered anything…

Setting the bag of food down on the dining table, you plucked the envelope off the box, a bit of the paper tearing from where it was taped on. Your name was on it, but that was it, no address, yours or otherwise. Pondering what the heck it could be, you gently tore the envelope open, pulling the card out. Your eyes widened, then stung a bit as tears sprung to your eyes. You recognized the handwriting immediately.

Hello, Sweetheart, I'm sorry I haven't been able to talk with you the way we both want, or as often. It's harder for me to leave you at home whenever I do, even more than it is for you, believe it or not. Everything I saw wherever I went that reminded me of you, I bought. I know your birthday is tomorrow, but you'll have to wait for the presents when you see me. I did prepare a surprise though. There is a dress in the box, please wear it and a driver will come to pick you up tomorrow night at 7 pm. I miss you, and happy early birthday. ~Love, Baekhyun

You sniffed, trying to hold the tears back, feeling foolish. Why did you want to cry so hard? You wondered though what the heck he had planned. Did he set up a party or something for you so you wouldn't notice his absence as much? Finally going to the box that came with the card, you opened it and removed the tissue paper inside to see the dress. A huff of surprise left your mouth, that did not look cheap. Flipping the tag over to see the brand, you were then for sure. It was a beautiful, light blue, bouffant-style dress, the fabric had a dull sparkle throughout and was made from a smooth silk. Of course it was just your size.

"Oh, Baek…" You sniffed again, holding the dress up to yourself, wondering what shoes you were going to wear.

"Are you (Y/N)?" The sharply dressed man standing by a very nice black car asked you. You nodded, and he opened the door for you. You smoothed your dress down when you got in, adjusting it as you sat to keep it looking nice. It hit you right at the knees and you paired it with a simple set of gold kitten-heels. You had curled and put your hair up and added some gold jewelry to finish off the look. The driver got back in the car and began to head in the direction of the fancy part of town. You fiddled with the strap of your bag, watching the buildings and lights pass. Maybe ten minutes later, the car pulled into the entrance of an extremely fancy hotel. You had guessed it was a party, but maybe it would be a meal in the restaurant?

"Have a Happy Birthday, Miss (Y/N)." The driver smiled, opening the door for you and you shyly thanked him, once again adjusting your dress as you entered the lobby.

"Are you Miss (Y/N)?" one of the hoteliers asked as the automatic doors slid closed behind you.

"Yes."

"Please, follow me." She smiled, motioning for you to do so, leading you to the elevators. You got in and she pulled a card out of the pocket of her vest, sliding it into the reader of the elevator, then pressed the button for the roof.

"Have a Happy Birthday, Miss (Y/N)." She smiled once again, and the elevator doors closed, heading straight up. You were feeling a bit overwhelmed with the glitz and glam of the night already. You knew that your boyfriend was an international celebrity and had been for years, granting him plenty of clout and capital, but this…

The elevator doors opened, a polished hallway leading to a set of glass doors, and presumable, the rooftop venue. You couldn't see anything pass the doors, not even lights, just those in the distance of nearby buildings. Tilting your head a bit in confusion, you walked forward, heels clicking on the floor. When you got to the door, you for some reason felt your heart surge. Resting your hand on the handle, you took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping out into the night breeze.

"Surprise!" You startled, only somewhat unprepared. The lights had come on, the pop of confetti poppers and loud cheering welcomed you. It was hard to hide your smile, seeing all of your and Baekhyun's friends.

"(Y/N)!" An extremely loud voice heralded the action before you registered it, then found yourself engulfed by a Chanyeol. You let out an 'oof' as he hugged you, you rocked back on your feet from the force of his hug.

"Let her go!" Kyungsoo huffed, hitting the other one on the back, who recoiled in an overdramatic fashion. You shot the smaller man a grateful look, but then they both looked behind them. You couldn't see over them, but when they moved-

"Baekhyun!" You beamed, tears once again hitting your eyes and he caught you when you dashed forward.

"Hi, sweetheart." He hugged you close and you heard various voices coo at the reunion, "Happy Birthday." He kissed your forehead when you finally pulled away, then scoffed.

"Hey, you'll ruin your mascara." He swiped his thumb over your cheek and you sniffed.

"I…I knew you had probably planned a party or something, but I didn't know you would be here too!" Your smile brought out his own and you hugged him again as he chuckled.

"Ah, what?!" He shouted suddenly and if you hadn't known him for as long as you did, the volume would have startled you. He turned to look behind him aggressively only to have Minseok whisper something in his ear after hitting him to get his attention.

"Oh, right." He calmed down and Baekhyun pulled away from you some.

"I did not time everything right, so we're going to eat now, then do the rest." Your boyfriend smiled, leading you over to the table set up in front of all the others.

"The rest?" you asked, sitting down in the seat he pulled out for you. He joined you and everyone else was sitting at their own respective tables. He pointed to the side at a table piled with gifts and you gaped.

"You guys!" You spoke loud enough, lacing fake annoyance in your tone and your guests laughed.

"Kyungsoo picked out the menu." Baekhyun told you, servers coming out with the food. It was all of your favorites and tasted amazing. When everyone was done with the meal and plates were cleared, another group of servers came out with a beautiful two-tier cake. The rested it gentle on the table in front of you and lit the candles before excusing themselves with a bow.

"Make a wish, sweetheart." Baekhyun wrapped his arm around your shoulder, kissing the crown of your head and you pressed your hands together, eyes closed. Let it be that I can stay happy with him, forever. You blew out the candles and everyone clapped and cheered and then the real part of the party began. Another set of chairs were at the gift table, so you moved over.

"Half of these are from you!" You sent a look to your boyfriend who chuckled a bit.

"So? Just start!" He brushed it off and you started. You got a lot of things like skincare, makeup, and other such toiletries. There were some stuffed animals, a few sets of earrings, a few nice perfumes and a tennis bracelet. Like you said, half of it literally was from him, several different countries were the origin of many. One of the boxes you opened, you slammed closed immediately, face heating. You sent him a side-glare and he seemed to realize what you had opened.

"Oh, uh, you can do that one later." He grabbed it from you, setting it on the pile and hoping no one noticed that it was purposefully hidden.

"It works with a phone app, from anywhere…" He whispered in your ear and you wanted to interrogate him further but decided to do it later. After the presents were opened and the cake cut, you finally got to eat it. Trying not to make a mess with the frosting, you enjoyed the champagne that was brought out as well. People were already dancing in the large open area in the middle of the rooftop venue, and when another nice, slow song started, Baekhyun grabbed your hand.

"I thought it would be weird if we danced to one of my songs." He whispered to you as he brought you to the dance floor. It was the second slow song, but you understood why he did that. While he literally danced for a living, you were not nearly as graceful nor practiced as him. You set your hand in his, the other on his shoulder, his other hand resting on your waist.

"Just, follow the rhythm." He coached as you danced, several of your other friends dancing with their significant others. You smiled as you passed Jongdae with his wife, somewhat envying what they had. That was something to think about later though.

"I think you got something on your-" Baekhyun brought your attention back to him and he smirked before quickly kissing the corner of your mouth and you scoffed.

"Geez." You couldn't help but smile, resting your head on his shoulder as you swayed. When the song faded to a close, you reluctantly pulled away from him, but his hand stayed linked with yours.

"Yeol!" He shouted, catching his friend's attention. He flashed an 'ok' gesture and Chanyeol sent a thumbs up back and you frowned a bit. What were they planning?

"Come with me." He looked like a kid in a candy store, a wide grin spread over his pretty face and you followed after him as he led you inside. Chanyeol had started something on the little stage set up for the band, everyone's attention focused there.

"I was going to wait till after, but I can't." Baekhyun told you, pulling you with him through the only door of the rooftop shelter other than the one outside or the elevator. It was a small staging room it seemed, there was mostly just extra tables and chairs. When you turned toward him to ask him what he was talking about, his lips captured yours, and your words slipped into a whine. Your back hit the wall by the door, hands flying up to his shoulders and up the nape of his neck into his hair. One of his arms wrapped around you, hand on the small of your back, the other on the wall to steady you both. You were glad you chose a lip stain rather than lipstick since none of it transferred over to him. You sighed and his tongue slipped into your mouth, his leg coming between yours, pressing his thigh against your covered mound. You moaned, letting him pull back from the kiss reluctantly. His lips kissed the corner of your mouth again, then down to your jaw, and further to your shoulder. The off-shoulder sleeves left plenty of skin open, so he took the chance and sank his teeth in slightly. You tried to hold back your moan, not sure how soundproof the room was, grinding down on his thigh between yours. It had been way to long, and the little points of contact through the night were not nearly enough.

"How am I going to get out of here?" You scolded lightly as he moved across your collarbone, having most likely already left three or four marks.

"You can use my coat." He offered quickly, barely pulling his lips off your skin to speak, also removing said item. Baekhyun rolled his sleeves up, lips finding yours again. When his task was done, you giggled as he lightly smoothed his hand up your thigh. His finger hooked over the hem of your panties, snapping the elastic. You squeaked slightly when he pressed into you, pinning you into the wall further, teeth nibbling your ear lobe, licking over the golden hoops you had in.

"You're already wet?" He gave a huff of smugness and you just hummed, exhaling in bliss when his fingers ran through your soaked folds.

"Baek-!" You were going to try and rationalize your state, but it was a moot point because your breath left when he sank his finger inside you. You were tighter than usual, not even having been able to get off yourself, you needed Baekhyun. The remote vibrator he bought you made more sense then. By the time he added his second finger, spreading them to get you ready, there were probably three more marks on your upper chest. Your little mewls were obviously getting to him, but the night was for you, not him. He stopped his fingers and you wanted to protest, but he was sinking to his knees.

"Oh." You whispered, letting him gently pull your panties down and over your feet, tucking them in his back pocket. You would have scolded him, but all words left as he buried his tongue inside your wanting pussy.

"Baek!" You shuddered, slumping further into the wall, hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself. He tried not to laugh at your squeal as he hiked one of your thighs up and onto his shoulder to get you open more for him. His tongue left your core, flicking at your clit, two fingers finding home inside you again. Your walls fluttered around the digits and he could tell you were close. With one more crook of his fingers, and kiss to your clit, you came and he helped you ride it, eagerly lapping at your essence flowing down his hand. By the time the waves of your orgasm faded, you were shaking and he smirked, standing while licking off his fingers. You noticed his hardened cock straining against his dress pants, fingers finding the zipper.

"Wait-"

"Can't. Do it better later." You insisted and he wasn't going to argue. Just as soon as you freed him, the head of his cock was at your entrance and he pushed in. Your gummy walls pulsed around him; the stretch stung from you going to so long without him. The same leg he had over his shoulder he held up over his elbow and you were so glad you were flexible. His thrusts were shallow and hard, trying to get to the crest for both of you fast so he could get you back to the hotel room and fuck you properly.

"Shit, Baekhyun." Your breath came out in pants, trying to stay quiet, but it was hard. Your peak was getting close again, your tight core around his cock felt like heaven, so he was close too.

"Come on, sweetheart. Cum for me." His sweet voice in your ear was all it took and he had to still as you came. He let go as well, the squeeze too good. Catching your breath, you startled when someone knocked on the door hard. Baekhyun must have taken it as a signal for something, because he got himself fixed up and let you have his suit jacket to cover your shoulders. In the low light he could see the rising deep red and purple welts, a few with light teeth marks.

"Okay, lets go."

"What-?"

"Yeol got everyone distracted, so now you don't feel good, so we're leaving!" He grinned like a goof and you scoffed, shuffling after him to the elevator. Chanyeol seemed to be guarding the door, back to you, and you giggled as the lift doors closed. Your boyfriend looked at you, his hair a bit messy and you both laughed. He still had your panties in his pocket… When the elevator got to the floor for the room he booked, you slipped out, slinking past a group of what looked like college guys walking down the hall. You held his jacket over you tighter, following Baekhyun as he led you. When he had gotten you into the hotel suite, your giggles turned into a full laugh, and he couldn’t help but join.

"Come on, sweetheart. The bed is all ready…"

After unwrapping you like you were a present, he sat behind you on the bed, leading you to rest your back to his chest.

"What are we doing?" You asked, letting his hands on your hips guide you. He sat on his knees, having you straddle his lap and he sank lower as you settled on him, cock filling you back up. Sighing at the feeling of him inside you again, he kissed over your shoulders again, sucking another mark at the base of your ear. Resting your head on his shoulder, his hands guided you to grind down onto him, the angle had the head of his cock right in the best spot, rubbing and pressing you into a tizzy. You wondered why it felt so much more intense than normal, more intimate.

"You looked so beautiful tonight. I knew the dress was perfect." His voice, low and soft in your ear seemed to vibrate over you and your hips stuttered through the rhythm you both had set. Baekhyun leaned back a bit more, you followed since you were resting on him, and the shift let him slide in even deeper and you gasped at the rapidly rising pleasure.

"I loved hearing you laugh in person, being able to hold you." One of his hands slid up over your stomach, cupping your breast.

"Feel your soft skin, kiss you, taste you…" You whimpered, his hips shifting to meet yours, thrusting up to meet your rolling hips.

"Wanna see you…" You whined and he hummed, smirking.

"Okay, sweetheart." While you were not pleased that he pulled out, you were quickly filled back up when your back hit the bed. His hands wrapped around yours when they went to cup his jaw, mouth meeting yours again. Linking your fingers, he pinned your hands up by your head with his, pulling back just enough so your lips still brush slightly. You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, and he snapped his hips hard, picking the pace up immediately. You couldn't hold back your moans, writhing in pleasure under him, the bed frame groaning from the force. You wanted to touch him too, but his hands on yours prevented it. He smirked against your lips, switching to using his one hand to hold both your wrists in place. The free hand gripped your thigh, shifting your leg up higher so he could get even deeper inside of you. It was hard for you to get out anything intelligible other than his name and your orgasm was rising faster than you anticipated.

"God, you're so beautiful. I love you so much, (Y/N)." His pace was stuttering, the vice of your core sending him closer to the edge as well.

"Love you too~" You managed to get out and your voice crested into a high moan as you fell over the edge. He groaned himself, spilling inside, filling you with warmth and swallowing your noises with a sealing kiss.

"Happy Birthday, sweetheart." Baekhyun smiled warmly and you giggled tiredly.

"You really didn't have to do so much…" You pouted playfully and he hummed, shaking his head.

"I did. I love you, and whenever I'm gone for so long, so far away, you're all I think about. I honestly wish I would have done more.”

Master-Master List

[karasukarei]

Wind Breaker Drama CD vol. 2 - Oedo-style Fuurin Tale (Part 1)

(t/n: I originally translated this is "Oedo-style Fuurin Story", but I think "Tale" sounds more cool)

Translation masterpost here!

Do note that the audio track for this currently isn't publicly available online. This is also longer than the first drama CD, so I might need a bit more time to finish this (and probably a few more parts...)

Note: As with the beach story, I took some liberties with translations this time to make it read more smoothly. As always, if there’s any mistakes, feel free to let me know!

Special thanks to @orewing!

Shorthand because some names are really long:

Sakura – Sakura

Nirei – Nirei

Suo – Suo

Sugishita – Sugi

Kiryuu – Kiryuu

Tsugeura – Tsuge

Hiiragi – Hiiragi

Umemiya – Ume

Scene 0 – 0:06~0:27

Nirei the narrator: It is the Bakumatsu period. In a town in Edo. At the entrance to this town, there’s a noticeboard. It’s a noticeboard erected by the strong. This is the beginning of the story of the samurai who took on the role of protecting this town in Edo. (t/n: For reference, the Bakumatsu is the time period when the Shinsengumi were active. Edo was the old name for Tokyo during the Bakumatsu)

Scene 1 – 0:28~1:49

*insert sound of wind chimes prettily sounding as the wind blows*

Sakura: Is this the town that the Fuurin-gumi is said to be in…? It does seem peaceful. I guess oden will do… (t/n: couldn’t really catch this last phrase) *stomach rumbles sadly* I’m so hungry…

Sakura: *sniffs air like a dog* This smell… Is it from that dango shop?! *swallows hungrily* The yakidango looks really tasty… *counts coins* It’s not enough… *stomach growls sadly*

Umemiya 💙: Hey! You over there! (t/n: OMG IT’S UMEMIYAAAAAAA)

Sakura: *sighs very sadly*

Umemiya: Heeey! The guy with half white hair!

Sakura: Huh? Me? (t/n: he sounds like a lost kitten here lmao)

Umemiya: Yes you! Do you wanna eat dango together? (t/n: I’LL EAT WITH YOU)

Sakura: Huh?

Umemiya: You’re hungry aren’t you? Hehe, your stomach was rumbling so loudly I could hear it from here.

Sakura: *blushing very loudly* Hrnghk-!!! I-It’s none of your business!

Umemiya: What’s with that? It’ll be my treat!

Sakura: *blushing even more loudly* *chokes on his words* There’s no reason to give me a treat out of nowhere!

Umemiya: If you want a reason, there is one. Rather than eating dango alone, it’s much more delicious if you eat it with someone else!

Sakura: What’s with that reason? Just leave me alone-

Umemiya: Huuh? But then-

 *Sakura’s stomach demands not to be left alone*

Umemiya: Nah? (t/n: with the same energy as “gotcha”)

Sakura: Kuuu- *blushes so hard he’s about to catch on fire*

Scene 2 – 1:50~2:55

Sakura: Mmm delicious!!! 

Umemiya: Right?? The dango here is one of my favourites. And Sakura, is it? You said you came from out of town? What did you come to this town for?

Sakura: Since you’re from this town you should at least know their name right? The notorious samurai group Fuurin-gumi. The group is filled with ruffians, but I came here to become the top of the Fuurin-gumi. (t/n: you’re gonna regret saying this Sakura)

Umemiya: Ohhh… You sure do have confidence in your strength.

Sakura: Till now, I’ve been storming dojos across various towns to hone my fist. *eats hungrily* (t/n: He’s referring to dojoyaburi / dojo breaking, when you go pick a fight with another dojo to show who’s superior. The losing dojo often loses both prestige and standing, and its students often leave for the winning school.)

Umemiya: You…

Sakura: *with a mouth full of dango* At any rate, you too-

Umemiya: Isn’t that great?! The top!

Sakura: Eh?

Umemiya: I see, the top, haha! *smacks Sakura very happily on the back* Yes, I see!

Sakura: That hurts! And don’t hit me when I’m eating dango, that’s dangerous. (t/n: people literally die every year from choking on dango)

Umemiya: Hahahaha, my bad my bad. 

Sakura: What a weirdo…

Scene 3 – 2:56~5:16

*insert sound of wind chimes prettily sounding as the wind blows*

Sakura: Yosh. *getting ready to leave*

Umemiya: What. you’re already leaving?

Sakura: Yup, I’ve already eaten the dango. *takes a few steps and walks*

Umemiya: Hm? What is it?

Sakura: *blushing enough to be heard through the speaker* I don’t think we’ll meet again, but… thanks for the food.

Umemiya: Uoh! It was fun eating dango with you too! Till we meet again!

Sakura: *grumbling under his breath as he walks away* I already said we likely won’t meet again, why’d he still say “till we meet again”... And anyway, what kind of person buys dango for a person they don’t even know?! And why am I so mad about it?! (t/n: he sounds like a really grumpy old man here www) *sighs* Someone like him… is probably from a different kind of world from me…

*Sakura walks some more*

Sakura: I heard that the barracks for Fuurin-gumi is supposed to be around here… is it that?

Nirei: E-excuse me, is this the barracks for Fuurin-gumi…?

Sugi: *grunts*

Nirei: It is right, it’s obvious! It’s nicely written here right?

Sugi: *more grunting*

Nirei: U-um, could you perhaps be from Sugishita-san from Tamonshuu’s First Squad?

Sugi: *gasps of suspicion* You, could you be-!?

Nirei: Heeeeeee!!! I’m sorry I swear I’m not a suspicious figure!! I am Nirei, and I’d like to join-

Sugi: Coming to join Fuurin-gumi, you sure have some guts! *draws sword*

Nirei: A-ah, I’m begging you please don’t cut me down!!

Sakura: Oi! Stop it!

Nirei: Eh?

Sugi: Huh?

Sakura: If you can draw your sword at a guy like him, then Fuurin-gumi really is as the rumours say- it’s where all the messed up people gather. Oi, you.

Nirei: Y-Yes!

Sakura: You stand down. I’ll be this guy’s opponent. *gets ready to draw sword*

Sugi: Are you this guy’s friend?

Nirei: You… Why are you saving me?

Sakura: Friend? Save? Don’t get me wrong. I’m just interested in strong people. *draws sword*

Nirei: Wh-what do I do?!

Tsuge: Oiii Sugishita-kun, it’s time to switch shifts! What’re you doing?

Nirei: Uwah! Fuurin-gumi member!

Tsuge: I don’t know what’s going on, but you guys look real macho. (t/n: unfortunately Tsuge speaks with some sort of dialect and I cannot figure out the last part of this sentence. If you know what he’s saying, do feel free to let me know!

[elryuse]

Yandere wonyoung x male childhood friend. But this time both YN & Wonyoung had a good & happy ending.

HAPPY ENDINGS

YANDERE WONYOUNG X MALE READER

The hallway echoed with the rhythmic clack of Wonyoung's patent leather loafers. Her dark school uniform, tailored to accentuate her impossibly small waist, seemed to billow with an unseen wind as she stalked towards Y/n. His deep laugh, punctuated by the giggles of his girlfriend, Jihyo, grated on Wonyoung's nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

They used to be inseparable, Y/n and her. Crawling through mud puddles, building sandcastles that vanished with the tide. But high school brought new priorities, and Jihyo, with her warm smile and infectious laughter, had become Y/n's new companion.

Wonyoung stopped a few feet behind them, her meticulously styled dark hair framing a face that could switch from cute to chilling in a heartbeat. Her usually large, doe-eyed gaze narrowed into slits, the playful glint replaced by a cold, predatory gleam.

Jihyo, sensing the shift in atmosphere, turned around, a smile faltering on her lips. "Oh hi, Wonyoung! "

"Hey," Wonyoung replied, her voice a saccharine syrup laced with venom. "Nice… picnic for two?" Her eyes lingered on Jihyo's hand, innocently intertwined with Y/n's.

Y/n, ever oblivious, turned around with a goofy grin. "Wonyoung! Didn't see you there. What's up?"

Ignoring Y/n, Wonyoung leaned in, her voice a chilling whisper that only Jihyo could hear. "He doesn't belong to you. Not anymore."

Jihyo, pale and trembling, mumbled a quick goodbye and practically ran away. Wonyoung watched her go, a satisfied smirk curling her lips. Now, it was just her and Y/n.

"What was that about?" Y/n asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Wonyoung's smile disappeared, replaced by a mask of vulnerability. "I just miss us, Y/n. Remember those times when it was just me and you?"

Y/n sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We can still hang out, Wonyoung. It's not like Jihyo replaced you."

Replaced. The word sent a spike of murderous possessiveness through Wonyoung. Replaced? He was hers, always had been, even if he couldn't see it.

"But it's not the same," she whined, her voice thick with feigned sadness. "She doesn't understand you like I do."

Y/n opened his mouth to protest, but Wonyoung cut him off. Tears welled up in her eyes, but they were cold, devoid of real emotion. "Do you even remember what happened the last time you told me you liked someone else?"

Y/n's eyes widened. A shiver ran down his spine as he recalled the "accident" that had mysteriously broken his first girlfriend's leg, effectively ending their relationship. Wonyoung, ever the concerned friend, had been there to comfort him then too.

Suddenly, the seemingly innocuous childhood games of hide-and-seek and truth-or-dare took on a sinister hue. Was it a coincidence that every girl Y/n showed interest in ended up ostracized or worse?

Terror replaced confusion in Y/n's eyes. He took a hesitant step back, but Wonyoung was quicker. Before he could react, she grabbed his arm, her grip surprisingly strong.

"Don't worry," she whispered, her voice sweet but laced with a chilling possessiveness. "Now that you remember, we can be happy again. Just you and me, like it always should have been."

Y/n was trapped. He had to play along, at least for now. But a small seed of defiance bloomed in his heart. He had to find a way out of this twisted game of love and fear.

As Wonyoung linked her arm through his, her perfect smile masking the darkness within, Y/n knew this was just the beginning of a terrifyingly sweet nightmare. Sleep became a stranger, replaced by the constant vigilance of not upsetting the delicate balance of Wonyoung's affection.

Nights were filled with whispered threats disguised as promises, and days a suffocating routine of Wonyoung orchestrating every aspect of their lives. Yet, amidst the terror, a strange realization dawned on Y/n. Wonyoung, for all her twisted devotion, cared for him deeply, in her own warped way.

One stormy night, as Wonyoung held him close, her grip tighter than usual, Y/n decided he couldn't live like this anymore. He had to take a chance.

"Wonyoung," he said, his voice barely a whisper. She looked at him, her eyes filled with a manic adoration that sent shivers down his spine. "Yes, Y/n?"

"I… I know you care about me," he began, his voice trembling slightly. "But this, us being like this… it's not healthy. It scares me."

Wonyoung's smile faltered for a fraction of a second, a flicker of something akin to fear crossing her features before it was masked by a pout. "Why does it scare you, Y/n? Don't you trust me?"

"It's not that I don't trust you," he said, taking a deep breath. "It's just that… I don't think this is love. This isn't the way friends treat each other."

The words hung heavy in the air, a challenge to the twisted reality Wonyoung had constructed. A tear rolled down her cheek, this one seemingly genuine. "But I love you, Y/n. I always have."

"And I care about you too, Wonyoung," he said, reaching out to gently wipe away her tear. "More than you know. But maybe… maybe our love can be something normal. We can be friends again, the way we used to be."

Silence stretched between them, thick with tension. Y/n braced himself for another outburst, for the possessiveness to resurface. But instead, Wonyoung surprised him.

A single tear escaped her eye, tracing a glistening path down her cheek. Her voice trembled as she spoke, "Do you think… do you think that's possible?"

Y/n saw a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes, a glimpse of the girl he used to know, hidden beneath the layers of possessiveness. He squeezed her hand gently. "It won't be easy, Wonyoung. You have to trust me."

A long moment passed, filled with unspoken emotions. Finally, a small smile bloomed on Wonyoung's face, hesitant at first, then widening. It wasn't the chilling, calculated smile he was used to. This was a genuine smile, filled with a newfound hope.

"Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I trust you."

The road to normalcy was long and arduous. Therapy sessions became a regular part of their routine, Wonyoung slowly learning to manage her obsessive tendencies. The fear that had crippled Y/n gradually receded, replaced by a cautious trust.

The childhood games they used to play took on a new meaning. Hide-and-seek became a playful chase, not a test of dominance. Truth-or-dare became a bridge to rebuild their fragile friendship.

It wasn't always sunshine and rainbows. There were arguments, relapses, and moments where the old darkness threatened to resurface. But through it all, they held onto the fragile thread of trust they had built.

Years passed, and their relationship blossomed into something beautiful and unexpected. The possessiveness morphed into a fierce loyalty, the obsessive need to control transformed into a supportive partnership.

One day, under the shade of the same tree where they used to play as children, Y/n knelt before Wonyoung. In his hand, a simple silver ring sparkled in the sunlight.

"Wonyoung," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "we've come a long way. You're no longer just my childhood friend, you're the strongest, most amazing person I know. Will you marry me?"

Wonyoung's eyes welled up with tears, this time tears of genuine joy. A thousand emotions flooded through her – fear, doubt, and a happiness so profound it took her breath away.

She looked at the ring, then back at Y/n, her childhood friend, now the love of her life. With a shaky breath and a smile that could rival the sun, she whispered, "Yes, Y/n. Of course I will."

Their wedding wasn't a grand affair, just a small gathering of close friends and family. But the love that filled the air was more potent than any fireworks display. Wonyoung, no longer the yandere schoolgirl, stood beside Y/n, a woman who had conquered her darkness and found love in the most unexpected of places.

[jeding-png]

Enjoy chapter 153 cuz next week there is a break—

Bon appetit, dear readers~

Today's chapter is just as delicious as the previous two, but this time, SUOL-nim has blessed us with a break from crying.

Let's start with Derrick and Ivonne's conversation!

In the novel, this conversation should have happened earlier, that is, we observe a similar situation as in chapters 86 and 87 (if I'm not mistaken, the conversation between Penelope and Reynold was also shown there at a different time).

Little Eckhart siblings and Ivonne holding Derrick's hand... it's so cute, especially in such colors—

In the preview for the chapter, it was written that each brother spends time with his sister. That is, Derrick spends time with Ivonne, who has finally returned, and Reynold spends time with Penelope (in the chapter, there are quite funny frames with them).

I'm actually a bit moved by the Derrick and Ivonne moment, but especially the frame with the three Eckhart siblings. Because you can see how Derrick blames himself for everything that happened. It can be seen that he has not accepted the loss of his younger sister for years, unlike the Duke and Reynold.

Yes, Derrick even has tea with her on the day of Penelope's coming-of-age ceremony—

But what is interesting is that the entire chapter did not show us Ivonne's emotions and gaze. Seriously. Therefore, it seems as if the stories where the girl from the stories about the disappearance of the real daughter are different from the one who actually returned.

Congratulations to Ivonne for finally being able to wash her hair outside of the sea and change her clothes!

But back to the coming of age ceremony!!

Did you want to see Penelope in a tiara? It's time! Look how beautiful she is!!

I like the fact that Winter's necklace was indeed, as written in the novel, slightly superfluous for Penelope's image. Mostly, it seems so because of its gray color, in contrast to the pastel blue colors of other decorations.

Magic works in this world, so the petals that resemble the same Elenvik flowers don't just fall out of nowhere, lol.

In the novel, it was said that Reynold even raised their hands even higher so that all the guests could see and have no doubt that the brother and sister had a good relationship, which also prompted an increase in Penelope's reputation.

I can't put into words how impressed I am with the costumes of the characters. Indeed. They look just fantastic. I especially liked Reynold's costume. The peculiarity is that SUOL-nim always draws outfits that have exactly the same style. That is, a certain element of clothing that we can see and immediately recognize for which character it is.

Also, I'm glad to see the same Reynold's ring that was in the first chapters of the manhwa again, haha. No wonder it is on the middle finger—

But nevertheless, in my opinion, this is an important moment of the chapter!

A conversation between Reynold and Penelope mentions the moment they last met, when Reynold was brainwashed.

Somehow you see what a mouth is for and that it can be used for talking and not just for kissing. Isn't that right, dear Callisto and Penelope?

You see images that were real and from the point of view of a brainwashed Reynold. He didn't act as if he deliberately wanted to reprimand Penelope, but on the contrary, to stop her.

Penelope sees Reynold and realizes that he is at least now brainwashed.

And now the moment I've been waiting for for a very long time!..

YES, THESE ARE THE SAME RABBITS THAT REYNOLD GAVE PENELOPE!

In the next chapter, there will be a rather interesting conversation about how Reynold tried to make a rabbit the color of Penelope's eyes. It's really cute moments between them.

But look at the similarities and differences between Derrick's and Reynold's gifts.

they both presented living beings;

both have similarities with Penelope's appearance colors: Derrick gave a bird the color of her hair, and Reynold tried to create a rabbit with the color of his sister's eyes;

different subtext and symbolism of gifts;

the bird has no one to communicate with, it is alone in the cage, and there are many rabbits, and they are quite fragile, but when they hatch, they are unlikely to live in a cage.

In this chapter, I smiled, while Penelope hardly did, if not at all. The chapter is over on the rabbits... so anyone who wanted to see Callisto, he will be in two weeks :'D

[tarousbaby]

I HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU !

MIYA ATSUMU

enemies to lovers trope !

kinktober day six!

slapping, verbal degredation, doggy style, secret sex, atsumu is an ass in this, mirror sex

masterlist &lt;3

you never liked atsumu, he was always the most obnoxious out of your old volleyball friends but after a get together, you soon find that your hate was misplaced.

word count: 2678

you hated atsumu miya, more than anything. not only was he loud-mouthed, obnoxious, and plain ignorant he was cruel. so horribly cruel.

osamu gave you a helpless little smile, and a shrug. your roomate knew just how much you loathed his slightly more annoying twin, but there was nothing he could do about it. you knew that anyway.

"it's not just gonna be 'tsumu," he argues, taking a sip from his glass of water.

"i know," you sigh, "i'm excited to see the others but...he manages to ruin my mood every time he's over."

osamu stretches his hands over his head, until his back gives a pop. "y'know i've talked to him, and if i could get him to stop i would but...i can't. i'm hoping he'll be a little more mellow with the others here."

"me too," you mutter, sparing a backwards glance to the door. you weren't neccesarily dressed for a reunion party, more like a cocktail party, but these were your friends. the people you'd been closest with in high school. somehow, you'd only managed to stay in touch with osamu and kita, but maybe that's because they were the two that didn't try and go pro with volleyball.

your small black mini dress clung to your frame, the cutoff just barely meeting your mid-thigh. your feet still ached from the heels you'd just been wearing. osamu, conviently, had failed to tell you that your friends were coming over the same day you'd already agreed to go out drinking with a few college friends.

so, looking into the future, you were a little tipsy in defense.

you were in the process of combing your fingers through your hair when a knock raps on the door, and then the croon of an annoying voice you knew by heart was none other than miya atsumu.

you rolled your eyes, but osamu just smiled and left the kitchen to go greet them at the door. you reached into your purse, pulling out your compact mirror and checking your appearance. you didn't look too bad, considering you'd just spent the past hour and a half in a sweaty night-club drinking shots and dancing.

the chatter hits your ears in waves, and you take in a deep breath and smooth down your dress before following osamu into the living room.

you feel the eyes fly to you immediately.

"y/n!" kita calls with a soft smile, walking over and wrapping you into a hug. you smile back, and reach up to wrap your arms around his neck and squeeze him tight. "it's been too long since i've seen you in person."

you hum your agreement, opening your eyes only for a scowl to curl on your face.

atsumu stares back at you, a lazy grin on his face and a single amused eyebrow raised. as kita pulls back, his eyes slowly rake up your body and he stifles a chuckle against his hand.

your attention is pulled away though by aran and suna, giving you a respective side-hug and clap on the back. it's nice to see them. it's interesting to see just how much they've grown up, both physically and mentally.

at one point, the conversation finally moves over to the couch. you find yourself sandwiched between osamu and atsumu, trying not to look too pissed off as you take small sips of water to try and sober yourself out.

there's some soft rap playing over the sound system osamu had, and when suna dissapears into the kitchen he returns with a bottle of champagne and a case of beers. there's automatic cheers from the men around you, and you wonder to yourself how much more alcohol you should consume.

at least you weren't driving tonight.

you should've known, that at some point in a house full of men who'd finally got a break from their jobs, they'd get a little rowdy. you know you're going to have to scrub beer stains out of the carpet in the morning and wipe down every inch of counter surface from the sticky substances.

osamu, thank the lord, had prepared some food platters for you to pick at so you could at least stay half-sober and be the responsible one.

at some point, kita gets some champagne spilled down his shirt, and you're quick to get up and find him a shirt. you head into the laundry closet connected to the kitchen, and begin rifiling through osamu's clean laundry bin.

there's a light scoff behind you, and your head snaps up. atsumu leans against the kitchen counter, staring at you through the door. you squint at him.

"don't you think you're a little overdressed for a high school reunion?"

you roll your eyes. "i had plans before this," you explain shortly, "i would've changed if i got the chance."

"oh really?" atsumu's voice is dripping with amusement, and something you can't quite read. "you know what i think?"

you can hear his footsteps inch a little closer to the closet until he's holding himself up on the doorframe. you hum, just to humor him, as you find a plain shirt crumped underneath the basket.

"i think you dressed up to show off for me--"

your head snaps up, and laughter rings out of atsumu's chest. "excuse me?" you shout, standing up. the shirt is clenched tight in a white-knuckled grip.

"you aren't defending yourself very well," he sing-songs, his smirk horribly devilish.

"if you're trying to charm me, it isn't fucking working," you spit, before bringing the shirt up to your nose. it smells of detergent. clean enough.

you move to leave, but atsumu's arm comes across the doorframe. he looks down at you, and he smells of fresh clean cologne. you kind of like it, and you hate yourself for that.

"move," you say, "now."

"i don't take demands from bratty girls," he snickers, "though, you're probably into that kind of thing. i mean, everyone can see the way you eye me."

you shove into his chest, but he's stronger than you and you only manage to make him stumble a little. "ugh, you're so stupid!" you huff, "you wish, atsumu, you fucking wish!"

ducking under his arm, you make your way back into the living room. there's eyes on you again, no doubt hearing your screaming fit. you shove the shirt in kita's direction, to which he hesitantly takes but not without trying to ask what was wrong.

"i'm going to bed," you whisper in osamu's direction, before bolting down the hall before atsumu can resurface from the kitchen. you hope the metaphorical slap hurt.

you make sure to slam the door, just to add insult to injury.

your chest heaves with anger, and your hands reach up into your hair, pulling at strands with your stress. why did he have to be such an asshole? he wasn't that bad of a guy with his friends, just with you? why? what had you done?

you'd only ever responded to his endless amounts of bullshit he sent your way. it was always something. he'd mention how indecent you look when your roomate's a man, or that what you wore out was inappropriate. or how you dated too many people, or flirted with too many men.

why did he even care? it wasn't any of his business!

you make your way to your vanity mirror, sitting in the chair as you begin to wash your flash with a makeup wipe. you don't normally put on a lot, so it only takes a few swipes before you're tossing it back in the trash bin.

there's three harsh knocks on your door, before it's pushed open and atsumu peaks his hand in.

your lip curls at him, clear in the reflection of the mirror. his lips are twisted in a frown, and he slips in the room before shutting it with a soft click.

"i've come to apologize," he says, but it almost sounds like it hurts.

"who forced you? osamu?"

he doesn't say anything, but it's the clearest answer you'd probably get out of him.

you shake your head softly. "don't bother. i don't want to hear something you don't mean."

he licks his lips, and comes up behind you. his hands curl on the back of your chair, knuckles brushing against your back. a shiver twists it's way down your spine.

"we used to be close," he says softly.

"yeah, and who fucked that up?"

atsumu's eyes squeeze shut. "i don't hate you."

you raise an eyebrow. "i'm sorry but i find that rather hard to believe."

"i strongly dislike you."

you click your tongue. "that sounds about right."

you look up at him, and he's watching you carefully in the reflection of the mirror. his tongue darts over his lips, and you know he's nervous.

"it's not even that though," atsumu points out, and your brows furrow. what is he trying to get at? whatever it was you really don't want to hear it.

you twist in your chair, an angry scowl on your face as you're prepared to tell him off. but atsumu's quicker, easier at surprising you.

his lips are warm, and wet, and he tastes of champagne. your eyes are wide, and his tongue brushes against your bottom lip, asking a question you weren't quite sure of the answer to.

he pulls back after a moment, a thin line of saliva connecting your lips. he wipes at the corner of your mouth, wiping away any mess.

"i hate that you're so beautiful, i can't help myself around you."

you still can't find the words to answer. you suck in a shaky breath. atsumu looks at you, still nervous but a thick glint of determination in his eyes. atsumu always got what he wanted.

you twist back around in your chair, and look at yourself in the mirror, then to his figure behind you.

"touch me," you whimper, and atsumu takes his chance greedily.

his hand slips down your sides, massaging your skin through your dress. they drift up, cupping your breasts, squeezing. he leans down, and sucks kisses into the smooth expanse of your neck. he leaves purple and red bruises along your skin, marks that you were his.

he isn't gentle by any means. his teeth scrape against the sensitive marks he'd left, not even bothering to soothe them with his tongue before moving onto the neck. his hands, playing with your tits, squeeze hard and rough.

they lift and slip under your dress, pulling the fabric down to your abdomen. he takes your tits into his hands, playing with your rosy nipples and pinching them between his thumb and pointer finger.

it hurts--almost, but the pleasure followed by the sting makes it worth it.

your head tilts back, a broken moan leaving your lips but atsumu clicks his tongue. "no," he says, "i want you to watch as i fuck you."

a whine leaves your throat, and you tilt your head back forward to watch as his grin grows large and sharp. you try to bite down on your noises, as his hand dips lower. it slips underneath the dress, pushing it up to meet the otherhalf at your abdomen.

"no panties?" he remarks, "what a slut."

your breaths come out shaky. "i...i was hoping i'd find someone," you admit, not without embarrassment. your blush is warm on your cheeks, but atsumu doesn't laugh.

his finger swipes through your wetness, collecting it on the pad of his middle finger. he brings it up to your clit, pushing up against the bundle of nerves and eliciting a heavy moan from deep within your chest.

"shh," he whispers, "they're probably listening to see if we start yelling."

you purse your lips, and no matter how desperately you want to clench around his fingers and whine at the top of your lungs but you can't. you keep your eyes trained on your reflection, grateful for the cut off just a little below your waist so you don't have to see just how wet you know you are.

you can feel it, with every roll of his fingers on your clit, as you slick smears on his fingers onto your thighs. your legs tremble, and whisper, "fuck, atsumu."

"that's the plan, baby," he chuckles, and pulls you up by your hips. you understand what he wants immediately. you brace yourself on your elbows, placed carefully on the vanity not to knock anything over.

atsumu's fingers slip inside you, reaching to his knuckle as he scissors two of them back and forth to spread your gummy walls. then, he pumps them in and out, curling them against your g-spot at the same time.

biting down on your lip, you hold back a moan as your orgasm comes crashing through you.

then, atsumu straightens up and reaches into his pants to pull out his throbbing hard-on. he lines it up with your cunt, and slowly pushes his head into you. you gasp at the intrusion, placing your forehead against the cool wood of the vanity. your breath fogs up against your own cheeks.

atsumu lets out a quiet groan as he pushes further into. you can hear him bite back a whimper every time you clench around him. he was really determined to be the dominant one tonight, which quite frankly was just what you needed, but you could tell he was going to be one hell of a sub.

he lets you adjust for a moment, and when you croak out a "move," he does without hesitation.

atsumu's thrusts are sloppy, but still so good. his hand pushes down on the center of your back, forcing your arch. "please!" you cry out, just soft enough to not be heard by the others. atsumu gasps, the nails of his freehand digging into the plush of your hips.

your head spins with the pleasure of it all. the gentle ache of the force on your back, the unnecessary stretch. the light prick of pain of his nails digging into you. and then, of course, the out-of-body experience of his cock head constantly hitting your g-spot.

"'m gonna cum, 'm gonna cum!" you whisper-shout to him, "please, don't stop!"

he shakes his head, and brings his hand up and slaps it down onto your ass. the sting brings tears to your eyes, and makes your skin tinge pink but the sweet feeling of atsumu splitting you in half overpowers.

atsumu slaps your ass a few times, until there's a prominent red mark on your ass. then, he takes his hand, and rubs over the mark. he leans forward, pressing kisses along your spine.

"i'm close, baby," he whispers heatedly to you. his voice is broken and hoarse, from what you don't know, but you squeeze so tight around his cock as if you were going to squeeze him of every drop.

you never thought that a little bit of dirty talk would be enough to make you come, but you're orgasming so hard that you have to slap your hand over your mouth in order to keep yourself from screaming.

you collapse onto the vanity, only being held by your hips. your arms cross, and you lean your head into them. you look up weakly, tears still clinging to your lashes.

atsumu's chest is heaving with labored pants, but his eyes glimmer with sweetness and his smile is so soft and reminiscent of the way he used to look at you that you crumble.

he pulls you up, and lets you collapse against his chest. he wastes no time in scooping you up, placing you down in your bed. he pulls your dress off your body, before draping the blanket over you. you let him treat you kindly, the way you've wanted him to for years.

atsumu presses a kiss to your lips, soft compared to how it was only ten minutes ago.

then, he leaves, a satisfied grin on his face.

god, you hated miya atsumu with his pretty eyes and soft smile.

[a-really-mediocre-writer]

Hi I love your writing and I’ve noticed you write for Chris Manawa, who I feel is under appreciated. There’s not a lot of writing on him so I was wondering if you could write something with him and reader on the boat and having a sweet moment together, like maybe messing around and play fighting? Just some fluff maybe some suggestive flirting. Thank you!

Sorry if my writing is a little messy English is not my main language.

Chris Manawa

GIF not mine, credit to @yanxidarlings

AUTHORS NOTE: hi guys so i havent written a fanfic or anything in like 3 years and my writing style may have change, lmk though if you would like me to write any other stories! requests are always open, and i have a few ideas for stories in the future as well. also after revisiting my only other chris oneshot i have realised that these are both set after his mom gets to walk the plank whoopsie

ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU ENJOY <3

---

Although the boat saving our lives from being snuffed out by the apocalypse was a luxury that it seemed no one else could afford, it had its downsides…such as the constant close quarters with everyone on board, as well as the boredom. It feels like such a selfish thing to admit whilst knowing about the fates of those we knew and loved that we couldn’t save, but at the same time I didn’t ask to be thrown into this hellscape, surely I should be allowed a pass on my lack of gratitude.

One of those who were not able to survive long enough to see life on the boat was Liza, Chris’s mother- the boy would not let us forget his grief and her loss, with it being written across his face as if it was stuck in a permanent frown. Most of us if not everyone aboard tried to avoid him and his snaps and cold tone, however as one of the only other teenagers on the sea with him I felt it was my duty to at least try to connect with him, especially after he had saved my life during the city riots at the start after I had lost my own parents in the chaos and the dead.

Chris was sat looking up at the stars on the outer deck of the boat alone. The day had been a rough one, with Liza’s sea burial not going so smoothly, tensions were high between him and his father Travis.

“Hey stranger” I said warmly as I emerged from the inner boat wrapped in a blanket, making my way over to the troubled boy.

“Hey..” He replied solemnly glancing over to me, his eyes following me until I was sat cross legged next to him. I held a spare small blanket out to the boy who declined the gesture by pushing it gently back towards me. Rolling my eyes playfully, I sat up on my knees and wrapped it around his shoulders, making him blush and stiffen for a moment, only to relax once I had sat back down again. The silence between us was deafeningly awkward.

“Soo.. Whatcha doing out here?”

“The stars are so peaceful tonight..” He quietly replied as he gazed up into the moonlit sky.

“Yeah, that’s one good thing about life nowadays.. you can see all of the stars you wouldn’t be able to with all the big city lights back at home.” I smiled gently at him and he glanced down at me before going back to star gazing. He was in deep thought and holding back tears as he kept his head held high trying to stop them from spilling out, eventually failing as I watched one stray tear roll down his cheek.

“Chris, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I am here for you and can be a shoulder to cry on if you need it…I really care about you…” After a few moments he lowered his head to look at me and his eyes were bloodshot and glossy. He stared into my eyes as if searching for something lost, and eventually raised the corners of his mouth into a weak smile to tell me,

“Thank you.”

After a few moments of silence and us smiling at each other he looks to the side out to the water, “I feel like… no one understands what I feel here… my dad doesn’t care that she is gone, he didn’t care about her he’s too busy with his new family… you are the only person that I think cared that she died.”

We sat in silence for a while, thinking about what he had said, before Chris broke it again.

“Sorry…That was pretty heavy…”

I let out a soft chuckle and reassured him, “Hey, I can handle anything you know… I’m superwoman but for like…listening to people I care about” attempting to lighten the mood a bit and nudging him on the shoulder, which seemed to work as I caught him smiling to himself and playfully nudging me back.

“Yeah yeah don’t get cocky…” He smirks at me and I mock offence, dramatically putting a hand on my chest and joking back to him, “Me? Cocky? I could never- How dare you even THINK that…” I giggled watching him roll his eyes at my dramatic outburst.

“You are so immature,” he starts, “Sometimes I wonder why we are friends…” He stares at me for a moment as if he were analysing my every movement, before his eyes land on the blanket wrapped around me like a burrito and he decides to quickly snatch it from me, laughing and saying “Maybe it’s because you’re so generous for giving me your blanket”

“HEY!!” I shout as I sit in shock for a split second before lunging at him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders in an attempt to get the blanket back around myself. We are both wriggling around at this point trying to reclaim the blanket, as we forgot that the couch had a limited space, so when he eventually tried to get me off of him we both rolled down the steel drop from the couch to the deck, landing with a thud onto my back and physically wincing at the sudden pains shooting through my back. I was more shocked however to feel Chris landing on top of me, and when I opened my eyes he was there leaning over me, his hands either side of my head. We both just stare into each other’s eyes for a few seconds too long, getting lost in his dark coffee coloured eyes; this then led to me scanning his face and admiring his undeniably handsome features and plump lips that he had begun to nibble into nervously. Feeling the blood start to rush to my face I decided to break the silence.

“Okay okay I didn’t realise that it was that serious to you…keep the blanket Manawa!” I giggled and poked his sides to shock him, which worked and his cheeks began to flush. He picked me up and I gasped, grasping onto his shirt incase he dropped me, but instead he put me onto the couch and sat next to me, opening up the blanket inviting me to sit wrapped up with him, which I accepted and crawled into his side, getting comfortable next to him as he settled the blanket over us both.

We sat awkwardly close to each other in silence for a few minutes, neither one of us wanting to scare the other away, but then Chris grabbed my hand underneath the blanket and without looking at me he said, “Thank you, Y/N… I needed this distraction from..everything…” he glances over at me “…you mean a lot to me…even if we have only just met, I feel like I have known you a lifetime, but it’s only been a month.”

I smile warmly at his words and glance at him before engulfing him into a tight hug, which he takes a few seconds to return.

“Chris, you mean a lot to me too. I would risk anything and everything for you, you are all I have left…” I feel the tears start to well up as i pull out of the hug and look him in the eyes, “…so you better not do anything stupid” I laugh and wipe my tears off of my face. He sits with an arm over my shoulders and laughs quietly about what I said.

“Maybe you aren’t ALWAYS immature and crazy… At least you aren’t boring.”

[klausysworld]

hello can you make a one-shot for yandere klaus mikaelson where elijah discovers klaus's obsession with y/n, after finding thousands of portraits, paintings, drawings, photos taken secretly, stolen belongings (perfume, panties, clothes, keys his home), Elijah confronts him about it.

Niklaus what have you done?

Klaus’s obsession had been going for months, he had rooms which were once empty, hidden from his family due to his design plans but now they were full of her face, her belongings just her. Canvases were everywhere, paintings, sketches, charcoals, chalk, any medias he could use.

There were boxed of her things, all organised accordingly, labelled and colour coded so that he may never struggle to find what he needed.

Now these things were secret, his eye’s only, he wanted it kept that way and so he tried to make sure he was private about his…tendencies.

———————————————————————

Elijah was becoming concerned. Niklaus was always missing, leaving in the middle of the night, not picking up his phone for hours, always returning in silence and sneaking around the house. It was odd to say the least.

So naturally he decided he should just take a little look through his brothers things like a any good father figure brother would do.

Elijah understood that Niklaus liked his privacy, Elijah did too but this wasn’t to harm his brother, he was worried for him, he wasn’t his usual…murdery self, naked girls weren’t all around the house and he wasn’t purposefully pissing everyone off. Now this should be a good thing apart from the fact that Elijah knew his brother. This was not a good thing. Something else was going on, something that had Klaus’ entire attention.

Finding the secret rooms weren’t much of a shock, he was often aware of them through the centuries.

What was inside was what was shocking.

He walked around silently as he looked at as many different portraits as he could. All of her. The same girl in different outfits, hair styled differently, facial expressions slightly different, the lighting positioned differently. They were all so different and yet the same.

The next room he got to had his hand covering his mouth, she was painted and sketched naked everywhere. The floor was scattered in her naked body. Her back arched as she touched herself clearly painted across a large canvas. His eyes darted around as he saw an array of boxes.

Hesitantly he picked the red box. Underwear.

Many pairs of panties, some bras too. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose as he put the box away, making sure to position perfectly the way it was.

The purple box. Pictures.

Thousands. All of her.

Park, grill, home, walking, running, shopping, sleeping, changing, showering, masterbating, having sex with other guys.

There were pictures of her in both Mystic falls and New Orleans, how long has his brother been following this girl?

Images of her at the mikaelson ball, home coming, prom, the party Marcel threw so long ago, the factions peace agreement party, she was everywhere, she was always where he was, no he was always where she was.

“Niklaus what have you done” he whispered to himself as he checked the next box

Blue. Belongings.

Jumpers, jeans, shirts, skirts, bracelets, necklaces, hats, scarves, teddy bears, books, a phone? Dream catchers, cards, fake flowers, perfume, a face wash, body wash, everything she had owned in a box.

Green box. Information.

Notes, so many notes.

She’s afraid of the dark

She still owns her childhood bear

When she was 5 her mother made her join a dance class

She can’t swim well -get her lessons

She had a birthmark ____

Favourite colour

Favourite food

Favourite band

He had her preferences ok just about everything. Her fears, her goals, he had her everything known. He had been studying her for years.

So much information on when she moved to New Orleans, which college she got into, how far away from their home. Maps of New Orleans to find the best routes to her house. Everything.

And then a little black box. He opened it to find keys. Keys to presumably her home, her car, a storage unit?

Elijah carefully out everything back and made his way back to his room only to bump into his brother.

Klaus’ expression dropped in an instant.

The silence was deathly, almost as much as Klaus’ stare.

His eyes darted to behind Elijah, then to his hands checking he hadn’t taken anything

“Niklaus…” he began quietly

“Why were you in there” he cut off

“I was worried about you-“

“You shouldn’t be, I’m happier than ever” he told him

“Niklaus this isn’t right- this girl-“ he tried but Klaus was quick

“She is my girl and that makes it right”

“She doesn’t even know you exist does she?” He asked almost softly as to not anger him but it appeared his attempt failed

“Of course she knows i exist! She’s mine, i love her, I wouldn’t love someone I don’t know Elijah!” He yelled roughly shoved his brother away when he placed a hand on his shoulder

“Yes you know who she is but she has no idea-“

“No. No. She knows. I’ve talked to her multiple times, you should see her Elijah, the way she smiled at me, she loves me i can tell” his voice grew quieter, calmer, scarier.

“She’s just being polite” he reasoned

“Then why does she leave so much for me? She wouldn’t leave her curtains open unless she wanted to be seen, i see her, and i love her for everything that she is” he whispered while nodding convincingly

“No Niklaus, no she doesn’t know that. She’s young and doesn’t understand the consequences of her own actions-“

“She is not stupid Elijah! I know her, she is bright and smart, she isn’t too young and pathetic, she’s perfect”

“She’s just a girl, an innocent bystander, she has nothing to do with our world do not do this to her” he urged

“She is already in my world, she may aswell be my world and id you for a moment think that you can try to take her from me do not doubt the thought that i will dagger you so many times that you never wake back up”

Elijah swallowed thickly, his next move would have to be careful. It wasn’t safe when Klaus was like this, obsessive. Possessive.

“You shouldn’t be watching her like that” he whispered

“It’s just to see her, so she’s safe” he argued

“Not when she’s..vulnerable. She’s not meant for you to use as a source for your..satisfaction or whatever your perverted mind-“ Klaus cut him off with a hand around his throat, his grip so tight he feared his head would detach from his shoulders

“How dare you? You-you looked at those? You went thought the photos? You saw her? Did you fucking look?” His hybrid face came into play as the image of his brother seeing her naked body entered his mind

“Ni-kl-aus” he struggled but there was no use now. Klaus had snapped his neck in an instant. He needed his dagger now. He was either going to have him in a coffin or stab his eyes out

“You should really mind your own business Elijah, it’s rude to pry.” He uttered as he dragged his body to the dungeons. On the way he past that room

The room he had for her. The room that one day, not too far from now, he would be able to bring her to, convince her that their love could finally come together.

After dumping his brothers rotting body he went back to check on his love, he couldn’t bare the thought of someone else seeing her the way he does, that’s why he must always be on standby, ready to kill anyone who looked at her for more than a second.

[steddieas-shegoes]

she runs a tight ship

rated t | for @strangerthingsocweek day 1 "introduction" | 1,573 words cw: mentions of illness (just a cold), mildly suggestive language | tags: future fic, corroded coffin, original character, robin gets to have a girlfriend because i said so

author note: a lot of meg's original backstory also revolves around OCs that other people have created, so I've doctored it up a bit to fit in without pulling the other OCs into the mix.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Meg rolled her eyes the moment she walked onto the tour bus.

The boys, and they were in fact boys since they refused to act like grown men, had left clothes scattered across the floor and couch, empty beer bottles and bags of chips on the table, and a pack of cigarettes on the counter.

Unbelievable.

But actually, totally believable.

They weren’t always like this. It’s just that the first night of the tour was always a celebration when they got off stage and Meg had the unfortunate task of making sure they were alive and prepared for the rest of the tour.

She wasn’t their manager, or security, or really anyone of importance in the grand scheme of things. All of those people were just not good at the job, and she took over quickly to ensure the members of Corroded Coffin didn’t end up ruining their careers before they even got started.

“If I see a single ass cheek when I come back there, I’m quitting!” She yelled towards the back of the bus. It was an empty threat, and they knew it, but she’d seen enough ass cheeks to last a lifetime.

She leaned over to pick up the pile of pants and pair of boots right in front of the door, face crumpling into disgust as she caught a whiff of sweat and weed.

“Meg, good to see ya!” Gareth said as he came from behind the curtain leading to the bunks. “Are we in Cinci already?”

“Yep.” She popped her mouth and continued picking things up off the floor. “Soundcheck in two hours. You guys have to at least try to get your shit together for it.”

“We will! You doin’ okay?” Gareth started gathering the trash on the table, throwing it all in the trash can without even seeing what was full and empty.

“Yeah. Good show last night. Didn’t think you’d do the new one on your first night,” Meg admitted. She’d worked on the song with them for weeks in the studio, curating it exactly to their tastes while still staying true to her own style. She didn’t think it would make the setlist at all, especially since they hadn’t even decided if it would make the next album yet, but sure enough, they performed it last night.

And they’d given credit to their “amazing songwriter friend who made sure they didn’t die or forget to eat.”

She would never admit to the tears that fell when she watched them perform their song.

“Ed and Robin agreed it should be a surprise. I think they both just wanted to see you cry,” Gareth nudged her on his way over to grab the guitar on the couch to put it into its case. “Steve told them not to.”

“This is why Steve’s my favorite,” she joked. Well, half-joked. She considered Steve to be the other half to her Keep Corroded Coffin On Track Team. Without him, Eddie would have been left at a rest stop the first time they went on the road.

“Yeah, that’s no secret.” She could hear the eyeroll in Gareth’s voice, but chose to ignore it. “He was snoring so bad last night, I almost had to consider kicking him off the bus.”

“Wait. Snoring? Steve doesn’t snore unless he’s-”

“Fuck.”

They both realized at the same time what was coming. Gareth looked back at Meg, eyes wide.

“Not now! It’s the beginning of tour!”

“Maybe if I load him up with vitamin C? I have a whole vitamin kit in the van and Robin has that nebulizer for her breathing treatments.”

A round of sneezes came from the back and Meg cursed under her breath.

“He’s gotta get away from everyone. He can take the van with Robin and I’ll bunk on your couch for a few days. Did he have a fever?” Meg was known for being dramatic over small inconveniences, but this wasn’t small. It had the potential to ruin tour dates. If anyone in the band got sick, it could ruin a concert.

“Don’t know. I don’t think so? He seemed fine when we went to sleep. He passed out before all of us though.” Gareth quickly set the guitar down and opened the cabinet closest to the bus door. “We’ve got cold meds. Some cough syrup. Tylenol. Cough drops. You think that’ll be enough?”

Meg nodded. “For now. Let’s see how bad it is first.”

They didn’t have to wait long. Eddie and Jeff came out at the same time, panic written all over their faces.

Meg sighed. “Bad?”

They nodded.

“Okay, stay away from him. It could already be too late, but you guys have to stay healthy.” Meg grabbed the basket of meds and a bottle of water from the fridge. “All of you get outside, tell Robin what’s up, and go with security into the building. I’m gonna get him settled in the van and scrub this place from top to bottom.”

“But I’ll miss him,” Eddie pouted. “How long does he have to stay in the van?”

“Until he can breathe through both nostrils.”

“Can any of us ever really breathe through both nostrils?” Eddie wondered.

Meg blinked at him. “Get a shirt on and get out of here before I make it impossible for you to breathe out of one nostril.”

Eddie threw his head back and groaned. Jeff patted his shoulder and turned to grab a shirt that was still on the couch.

“It’s okay man. Might just be a little cold. Could pass quick!” Gareth tried to reassure him, but Meg could already see how this was gonna go.

She was surrounded by slightly codependent idiots. She loved them all dearly, but she needed them to function individually sometimes.

The door banged open and Robin came up the steps.

“I swear, I sleep in one time and my girlfriend abandons me for her harem of idiot men.” She glances between everyone and tenses. “What’s wrong?”

“You stupid soulmate is sick,” Meg grumbled. “Everyone is in the process of leaving this bus before it happens to them.”

“I’ll wake up Frankie. He’s gonna be pissed,” Jeff sighed. “He got his pillows just right.”

“I’ll get him, you guys go,” Meg shooed them away, waiting for them to all leave before turning to Robin. “Hey, Robbie. Sorry I didn’t wake you up, just wanted you to get plenty of sleep.”

Robin leaned her head on her shoulder and kissed her cheek. “It’s okay, babe. Steve gonna make it?”

“Haven’t put eyes on him yet. Think you could go check? I gotta avoid getting sick, too. The less I’m around him, the better,” Meg handed her the basket and kissed the side of her head. “Get him to the van so he can contaminate that area instead.”

“But then I’ll get sick.” Robin pouted.

Meg couldn’t resist leaning down and pulling Robin’s bottom lip between her teeth, smirking when she let out a yelp.

“You’ll be fine. You’ve got a strong immune system. Promise I'll make it up to you in a few days. Maybe we could convince them to let us have a hotel room so we can-,” Meg said, pulling away when she heard shuffling behind the curtain. “Oh, good, it’s you. The rest of the guys are gone. Steve’s sick. Don’t come back in here until I give the go ahead.”

Frankie yawned, scratched his head, and nodded. “Got it.”

He was slowly becoming her favorite just by the fact that he never really argued with her. Maybe that was because he was terrified of her, but she could enjoy her power a little if she wanted to.

He walked out of the bus in his pajamas, probably not awake enough to realize he wasn’t properly dressed, but also probably not caring at all that he wasn’t. Frankie was a chill guy.

“Eddie?” Steve’s pitiful raspy voice came from behind the curtain. “Eds?”

“I’ll go,” Robin gave one final kiss to Meg’s lips before walking behind the curtain.

Meg only caught a glimpse of Steve, but a glimpse was all she needed to come to the conclusion that he was miserably sick and she needed to air this bus out immediately. She could hear Robin gently explaining where everyone was and trying to bribe him to put some comfy clothes on to move to the van.

She looked around and wondered what he’d touched last night before going to bed.

She opened the window behind the couch, and propped the window by the sink open to get some fresh air in the bus.

“Sorry I’m sick,” Steve suddenly said behind her, his eyes glassy and nose and cheeks bright red with fever and congestion. “Don’t know how.”

Meg smiled sadly at him. “Not your fault, bud. Just make sure to keep your distance from the guys until your fever’s gone. Don’t need them all getting sick at once and having to postpone a concert.”

Steve nodded sadly. “Okay. Can you tell Eddie I love him?”

“‘Course I can.”

Steve was acting like he was dying, but Meg didn’t say anything. Robin had been honest about a lot of her past, their past, but couldn’t say everything. She knew why they were all a bit codependent on each other. Sometimes small things like the common cold felt like a monster they couldn’t fight.

As Robin led Steve out of the bus, Meg made a checklist in her head of everything she needed to do before the show tonight.

Taking care of her boys was always top priority.

[from-izzy]

that's him, that's just who he is | tbz choi chanhee | new

"At least between us both,” the camera shutters and you take a shaky inhale, “one of us took the right path.”

​PAIRING » tbz choi chanhee (new) x gn!reader (proofread twice—lmk if i made a mistake!)​ TROPE/AU » ​friends 2 strangers, highschool au!, non-idol au!, idol au! (chanhee towards the end) GENRE​ » angsty angst angst, unread messages, comforting friendship, supporting friendship, you both attend the same music academy, you both are preparing to become celebrities/idols! WORD COUNT » 4168 (no seriously, 2k word limit who?) ESTIMATED READING TIME » 15 mins WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!) » financial difficulties, stress relating to: money, music, balancing friendships-work-school, upwards comparisons, failure at achieving dream job (reader's side), unsupportive teachers

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 series introduction 🤍 series masterlist 🤍 part of 'especially to you...'

my third story! i take it back when i said that the second is my favourite story because this is my new (no pun intended) favourite story. i had to stop multiple times because it hit me too many times 🥹👍

well...the self insert is really real here 🫂 and this got seriously personal (let's see how many times i say this with this series 👀)

big respect to chanhee for balancing his education, preparing to be an idol and having a part time job 🫂 i respect him so much

thank you for reading honey bee ☘️🐝 @sanaxo-o and happiest birthday to you!! this story isn't much of a gift since you've read it before but there is the other one hehe 💕

Unlike most of your other lessons, this one passed by as quickly as a blink of an eye. It might be because the air conditioner in the room was set to the perfect temperature or the way the tie around your collar didn’t suffocate you too much or maybe, it was the way that you were practically showered with a bunch of compliments as soon as you took a deep breath from your diaphragm, lifted your cheekbones and sung your heart out.

Swiftly, you smile at the affirming nods that your teacher gave you, writing down her notes to the three-minute performance that you were assigned to for the last month. Across the whole month, you recall the way the tip of the pen scratches the plastic board vigorously, tapping rapidly and furiously throughout the longest three minutes of your life. Usually, you would be assigned a new song every three weeks or have two songs to practice for five weeks. On the times that you didn’t succeed, it would be a hell lot of criticism, tears and punches on the wall as soon as you exited the small studio. Heck, even with the times when the tears made it out in the room, you could tell that even though she toned down her volume, those eyes looked at you no further than disinterest—sometimes she would unmistakably roll her eyes too.

It has always been in short, sickening.

Those were the times that you wanted to just rip out your vocal cords, swear that you would never sing again, not that you even could at that point, and run away from the one thing that gave you life in your tiring days.

“Pick a song.”

The statement made your head slightly crane forward towards your suddenly easygoing teacher. You let out a confusing hum and question to which she responds with an amused smile.

“I can…choose?”

“You can’t truly be a singer if you don’t know what songs fit you best or if you need someone to pick what songs you should sing. You don’t have to choose a challenging song yet. You’ve been singing for the past half year and you’re good at it, but you really only found your style recently and I would rather you focus on further developing it.” She shrugs leisurely after, “It’s up to you though.”

Either way, I’m still going to get paid.

Numerous song titles juggle in your mind, the different lyrics and tunes playing in your head as the memories of your lives flash through their respective melodies. However, it wasn’t easy for your mouth to announce any of the songs, your mind thinking of all the technicalities within each song that would definitely challenge the fragile, insecure side of you.

But art is a special type of hobby.

It’s one of those hobbies that no one would ever be able to ‘perfect’. Somebody would always criticise and pick it apart ruthlessly—and you would always have to pick up their words and carry them deep within your heart.

“Are you sure?” The way that she tilts her head to the side after writing down your choice says everything.

But you stood your ground.

You’ve been in love with this song for so long and all you wanted to do was to learn it properly. Who knows when you’ll be given the chance to pick again? So, with the bravest smile and the most convincing nod that your shaking body could give, she does her final notes on that worn-out notebook of hers. She also recites your homework and expectations for the next lesson before excusing your presence from the room.

You couldn't wait to scream the excitement out of your body, tell your parents and your best friend about what just happened, analyse the song and its technical aspec—

"I just don't think you'll make it."

You halt your steps and your journey. For such a good music academy, these rooms seriously needed thicker walls. You were genuinely surprised that you were still able to focus on your lessons (most of the time) through all the electric guitar, drum kits and unfortunately, other singers who were unable to hit those certain high notes.

It's times like these that you wish the academy could invest in their building more. You were lucky that your lesson room is located at the end of the hallway meaning that your criticism could only be heard by you, the teacher and maybe the two rooms in front and beside yours.

Chanhee wasn't so fortunate, being at the very front, the first door on the left. It left him vulnerable. The voice cracks, the times when he would go off tune or the rare times when he missed his count. It would all mercilessly be heard by anyone who would pass by just to go to the toilet or refill their empty, cold coffee mug.

You stood next to the wall where the glass doors of the lesson door, biting your bottom lip and you noticed how Chanhee wouldn’t even say anything to his teacher’s words. You could imagine how he had his head hung low, nodding occasionally at the words and was forced to repeat the same line over and over and over again until he got it right. You prayed silently in your heart and mind that time would go quicker for him so that he could walk out, breathe in some fresh air and take a break from the suffocating practice room.

When the door clicks open, Chanhee has that tired, sad smile to you that he gives most of the time. Your eyebrows fell a little but you were still able to give him an encouraging one back.

“No?” You asked even though you very much knew the answer.

“No.” He quietly affirms after a short pause.

“I’m still proud of you though.” Just like any other day at school, after lessons or any other time, you lightly punch his shoulder, him chuckling and shoving you back. “I guess…that’s why they’re called ‘lessons’ after all.”

The realisation of your words made Chanhee groan. Lessons that are made throughout a lifetime—one that he has been attending for a year and a half unlike you who only started at the start of the year. He gave up his time with his friends, time to study which most of society thinks is the best way to secure a well-financed job, and gave up his money to buy clothes for himself that he just walked past whenever he knew he would get tempted. All those part-time jobs, ones that would go late into the still busy nights of Seoul or the ones early in the morning before school when most people would still be snoring, were all done with his dream that someday his voice would be heard by the world.

“How did yours go?”

You know that you should just be truthful. You both have been stuck to the hip for the last few years and Chanhee is not an easy person to deceive. Plus, you need to take into consideration as well of lying at this current moment. You didn’t want Chanhee to think that you were trying to make him feel better by potentially pitying him. What good would that bring to anyone right now in this situation? That’s not what friends do.

“I was given a chance to choose a song.” The small genuine, congratulatory smile that Chanhee gives makes you relax your back into the wall further, the tension easing away from your body. “I also managed to get through that vocal run that I’ve been agonising and crying to you about for the past week.” You slump your body against the wall as you recall your homework, “But she gave me more scales to use as runs for practice.”

“Scales really do suck.” Chanhee whispers to you teasingly, once again getting pushed by you.

“Yeah.” You acknowledge shortly after. “But it does help me with my breathing and flexibility which I highly suck at.”

“Hey,” he scolds your words lightly, “at least you have a distinctive sound and know how to put emotions according to the sound. My teacher just said I sound generic.”

Yes. That description for Chanhee—no, just any singer—is weird and you would dare to say, highly misleading.

If we’re talking about musical terms, every single singer has a unique timbre. Even if the note stays the same, every person will have a different tone colour because well, every person is different. Saying that a singer has a generic voice, highly contradicts the definite concept of instrument timbre.

You know how much this troubled Chanhee even though he tries his best to hide it. The comments about his timbre have been repeated so many times that it’s got to him a lot. In the beginning, he would just smile bitterly and indicate that he wouldn’t want to talk about the lesson, kicking the group of stones on the pathway to release his anger. However, as you both grew closer after an assigned duet performance, he was able to open up to you little by little, slowly but surely, keeping the friendship that grew even after you did your ending bow to the audience. He would still hide a little bit of his feelings to himself, embarrassed that he would talk about himself even though you reassured him that it was completely fine.

To him, how others see him is the most important thing for him. From the compliments that would grow the contagious smile on his face, to the heartbreaking crying scenes that he would hide from the rest of the world, all those words he took to heart so that he could improve himself as a person—and in this case, as an artist. In this harsh world, the words that would be spat out by teachers would be so deeply etched in a person’s heart that all of a sudden, giving up everything that they have worked so hard for would be easier done.

It’s during those times that you and Chanhee would lean on each other, reassuring each other not to run away from the weekly lessons and giving comfort after each one. Chanhee is internally grateful for the times that you would hold his shoulders, lightly shaking his frail, tired body before giving him words of encouragement. He would do a similar thing for you when you feel like you didn’t progress, stopping your self-criticism and pushing you to keep going. To you, he would just let you cry on his shoulder as you hug him tight, patting your back calmingly.

The light snowing season greets the both of you as soon as you exit the building. For you, your next destination is home but for Chanhee, ninety-eight percent of the time it would be his job at the barbeque restaurant, the seafood restaurant or even that new Chinese restaurant that he recently just started.

Given the good results of your lesson, you selfishly wanted to have some fun but the words died down in your throat when you slightly turned your head towards your friend. His black hair still peaked out from the beanie that kept both of his ears warm, the scarf that you gifted him hid the slight downturn of his lips and the physical expression of his heavy heart. His eyelashes fluttered away the snowflakes in the cold but still bright night and his rosy cheeks only grew brighter and more evident the slower the journey to your next destination would take.

“Just a little penguin in his somewhat natural habitat?” Your attempt to get a response out from him is successful when you see his cheekbones rise—the same way that they would rise whenever he sings his heart out.

“What a way to start a conversation.”

Your heart lightens at your successful attempt, linking your right arm with his as you continue to walk down the still-shared path that makes the distance between all your worries and yourself further away. However, like all journeys, you finally arrive at that one spot.

The one that split into two different roads, unlike the one you have been walking a few minutes ago.

The right road would take you both to safety, warmth and relaxation.

The left road would force you to unlink Chanhee’s arm, sending him to the busy, loud civilisation where he would put on his apron and raise the pitch of his voice fit for customer service.

“Are you…off to work?” He senses the sadness lingering in your voice and the way your right hand tightens around his forearm even through the thick, winter clothes.

“…yeah.”

“I see.” You managed to muster a stable response tone. “Come on, I’ll drop you there.” You turn your body towards the crowd but can’t go too far due to the other set of feet that stays grounded on the worn-down, cold stone floor, “Chanhee?”

“Maybe…” Suddenly, the sky starts to sprinkle down its pretty shapes of ice. “I’m just not meant to be a singer.”

You gasp quietly, the faint white exhale slowly disappearing behind the dark background. Seeing the tears finally slide down his cheeks made you realise one thing: he’s opening up. He’s doing the thing that he has tried to hide from everyone. In tune with his emotions, your eyes started to build their layer of moisture, the wind making it harder for you to keep your tears in. You couldn’t think straight, your free arm wiping your eyes to rid the hardships from your face while trying to give Chanhee words of encouragement.

“You’re going to get ther—”

“What if you had to give up so much,” He cut you off, gasping and inhaling more air to accommodate his crying, “earn so much money, gave it away and it didn’t give you good results? Whatever it may be…An event, a trip, an investment.” His voice gradually trails off as he lists life occurrences.

You’ve thought about the same thing thousands of times, back and forth, no matter where, when and who you were with. In a world where pursuing art can be a hard, long path, what would happen if nothing good were to come out of it? All your hard work, all your money, all your time…you’ll never be able to get those back.

Is it worth it? Is it worth the gamble?

“I would probably beat myself over it.” You tried to keep your whimpers at bay as you confessed the same answer that would come back every time you went on your downward spiral, “I would most probably always question why I did what I did. If I did the event with someone, and for some reason, they were the ones that made the situation bad, then I would’ve gone back and forth, asking myself if it was worth it. Why didn’t I go alone? Why was I so scared? What was I so scared of?”

Should you move to a different academy? But your teacher is well known. Should you still do it anyway? Knowing that you had to go through many processes and hardships to even get lessons with this teacher. Even if most of the time, you felt like giving up music, surely her experience would lead you to someplace good…right?

“But then…would answering those questions lead to happiness?” Chanhee scoffs at his absurd thoughts. Tilting his head to the sky, he relishes the way the snowflakes land on his pale skin, disappearing when they touch his skin, the side branches melting into his warmth. “Even after answering the question, would you be able to know what to do next? What would it lead to?”

Even though Chanhee was the first one to cry and break down, your wails were louder the more his words resonated within you, touching the parts of your heart that you never wanted to say out loud, scared of where and how your unconscious mind would take you. With everything in him, he untangles his arms to wrap them around your neck, patting the back of your head as you cry on his shoulder. He also lets his tears soak your scarf, resting his cheek on his arm and his chapped wavering lips rubbing against the delicate wool of your scarf, trying his best to soften his cries.

“I just…” One of his hands pats your back, giving you his comfort—even though he probably needed it more than you, “Music and singing used to be happiness that could fit in my pocket. It felt secure and safe. I could just put on my earphones and I’ll feel happy.” You notice the tighter hold after, “But music grew too fast and too big for me that I couldn’t catch up with it anymore.”

You only nod to his words, knowing how much Chanhee sacrificed to pay for his lessons. Some judged him, calling him stuck up and selfish even though they knew that he was independent in his journey to become a singer. It pains you to hear those words come out as scoffs and laughter and soon enough, you hold his hand and cut ties with them all, leaving their flabbergasted faces behind.

The sky starts to cry with you both beautifully in the form of its unique icy shapes. You both watch the snowflakes disappear on the ground, on each other clothing, on your noses. Finding the strength and breath to continue, you slowly push your body away, wiping the last bit of your tears to face your best friend straight into his eyes.

“You’re going to find happiness that you can rely on, Chanhee.” You couldn’t see his lips but you were sure that it was pouting and shivering, “It may be music or it may be something that music brings you. It may be the stage or maybe people who you will come to work with or maybe the people who will cheer you on but I’m sure you’ll find it soon.”

Even with the bustling environment around you both, there was no way that you could have missed his muttering, especially with the white puff of air, “At this rate…”

He feels the weight and pressure of your palms on both his shoulders but he still looks down to the ground where the snow slowly buries the sides of his shoes, “I promise you that if you keep going, I don’t have a single doubt that you’ll find your style. Regardless of what your crappy teacher says, you’re unique and I love your voice.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.” Wiping the lone tear on his cheek, “The world is going to be amazed when they hear your voice and I'm sure you'll be a good influence to them.”

For the first time in the day, Chanhee finally smiled. You observe the way his eyes disappear into pretty little upside-down moons. His head tilts back slightly, revealing the upturned corner of his lips behind the scarf that kept him warm and his teeth shine brighter with the help of the light from the marketplace behind you. Your hands were able to finally relax and mirrored the same expression back to your now radiant friend.

“Promise me that we’ll stand on the same stage someday.”

But life plays a twisted fate on you both and loves to put more pressure than you can ever carry. Having to move to a different school and a different region is not on your list of expectations. You argued endlessly about the decision to move, feeling unfair that none of your opinions mattered to them as they relentlessly started to look for moving trucks to hire. With the good offer that your dad received and realising that the youngest in the family had no final say, you tried your best to hold back the tears when telling Chanhee the news.

He cries for you and himself, already imagining the loneliness of walking to the music academy after a long day of school and the drags of his feet across the gravel in the night after each lesson. You assured him that you would call often and unlike you, he promised you the same thing. Time told you both that your friendship was still strong despite the physical distance between you both and with time, so did both your musical skills.

The trade-off for talent in your friendship is the less frequent phone calls and text messages. It was decreasing steadily and slowly until eventually, there was no more red dot beside his name on your phone even though you're sure there would be one beside your name on his. When sadness turned into confusion, then morphed into anger, hate and bitterness whenever someone asked you about him, you still found yourself swiping through your many photos with him. Just like how he cries on your last day, you cry from the silence of him.

Thankfully, time did heal your heart even though you couldn’t find a friend like him ever again. Things have changed for you and you were sure that it was the same for Chanhee. You grew taller, changed your hairstyle, hobbies, dreams and aspirations. What time didn’t seem to change however was the delivered sign that never changed with your messages. You let it go and went on with your life.

When you did come back to Seoul, you realised that the city had changed drastically. You wondered if it’s really that or if you were just struggling to remember the city that you once walked around in every day. But unlike your thoughts, maybe Seoul did change drastically. Amid the new but still bustling environment, there was this one cafe that was incredibly packed. Needing to get away from the cold, you entered to be greeted with a well-decorated interior and the gold ‘Happy Birthday New’ balloon shines brightly, especially with the light that is right above it. Many were posing in front of the gold foil fringe backdrop.

You almost didn’t recognise the boy in the picture. You don’t remember when you took your scarf off and picked up a random framed picture in the frame before picking up another one next to it, and another one, and another one. Each showed his growth. You could tell not only from his appearance but also from the bigger stage that he performed along with ten other boys. Suddenly, it clicks and it all makes sense. Hearing everyone else around you talk about him fondly took away the heavy weight that his name brought and a new feeling overtook your heart.

For the first time in a very long time, seeing his face made you smile and it didn’t hurt.

Your phone slides into your shaking hands, swipe open the camera app from the lock screen and point it at the framed picture in your hand, “At least between us both,” the camera shutters and you take a shaky inhale, “one of us took the right path.”

You know from the laughter in the space, the feeling of the radiant energy of those around you and the happiness on people’s faces as they point their cameras to their fanmade goods and the interior of the place, that Choi Chanhee has done it. The stage looked extremely good on him, even if the light was too bright and he looked so pale sometimes.

“I’m glad it was you.”

You whisper somewhat solemnly and with a bit of jealousy. Your clenched fist is a puny attempt in trying to keep your tears from expressing the hurt that suddenly hit you as you recall that moment in your life. The multiple rejections to the companies that you auditioned for, the way people on the streets pass by more frequently as their ears and eyes are focused on other’s performances—the night where you listed all your musical instruments for sale and promised that you would never sing ever again.

“You shy, talented, loveable penguin.” And it would seem that his fans agree with the chosen animal with the pouting blue penguin on top of his head. “That’s just who you are, Chanhee.”

Maybe the fame wasn’t for you. Shortly after moving, you found out that the stage was more of a hobby, especially with how you just wanted to stand on stage but never wanted to practise and study music theory properly. You just wanted to shout out the lyrics and sentimentally sing the lyrics of existing songs instead of having your name in an album or next to the credits and royalty rights to the song. But knowing that it fit Chanhee well, it was more than enough for you. He may not have known it before but you wish with all your being that he knows his capability to make others smile, including you.

Even if your broken smile is within millions that he probably would never see from the podium that rightfully held him high.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 series introduction 🤍 series masterlist 🤍 'especially to you...' tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿@sanaxo-o @astrae4

[make-me-imagine]

Much More Than Fond

Plot: Malcolm often comes off as a pushy, teasing, frenemy to you. But unbeknownst to you, he actually cares quite a lot about you. You could even say he has a crush.

Pairing: Malcolm Reed x Gn!Reader

Requested Prompts: "In your dreams!" "Every night, actually." + 'Secret Admirer' A/n: It's not straight forward with the secret admirer prompt; more like 'admires from afar secretly' lol

Requested By: @fandomdancer (these are from Valentines Day sorry it took me so long to get to them)

Warnings: Brief mentions of not eating/drinking water (neglecting health) - So take this as a reminder to eat and drink some water!

Words: 2.3k

-

Making your way into your work space, you sighed as your head ached. You had gotten so busy with repairs, you had forgotten to eat or drink any water. You knew you should go to the cafeteria, but you couldn't ignore the reports you had to fill out.

Walking towards your desk, your eyes locked on a granola bar, a bowl of fruit and a bottle of water sitting on your desk. You blinked a few times as you looked around.

This was the third time you found snacks and water left at your desk when you had been busy with work. The first time you ignored it, thinking someone left them there accidentally but when it kept happening, you grew even more curious.

You asked around, but no one claimed them to be theirs, and no one knew who was doing it, or at least they didn't want to tell you.

You wondered how they always knew you hadn't eaten anything, and how did they always know your favorite snacks? You had received your favorite candy bar, fruit snacks, muffin, and now a granola bar. So whoever it was clearly knew you more than you were expecting.

---

As Malcolm marched down the corridor, his eyes caught on a familiar figure. Glancing into the room, he spotted you working on some damage from the last mission. Your face was knit in concentration as a granola bar was sticking out of your mouth.

He smirked to himself as he kept walking, his heart fluttering a bit in his chest. He had heard you asking around about the snacks being left on your desk, but no one, especially you, would have considered him as the culprit.

Malcolm tried to convince himself he was just being kind, but he knew it was more than that. The two of you had a complicated relationship. You would bicker, argue, tease each other, and sometimes even joke around with one another. That latter, usually if you were both teasing Trip. But people would hardly consider you friends.

Malcolm didn't think of you as much more than a colleague for a long time, but slowly, he found his eyes following you, checking on you, teasing you on purpose just so he could see the way you scrunched up your face in annoyance.

He had even started to notice and familiarize himself with your routines and habits. He knew you woke up at the same time every day whether or not you had duty. How you'd check with everyone and see if they needed anything before you left.

He knew your go to style of burger, pasta, pizza, the way you make your coffee or tea, your favorite fruit, your favorite muffins and candies.

And, he knew you had a tendency to get so caught up in your work that you would forget to take care of yourself. He would notice you missing lunch, or even dinner. He'd spot you going to Phlox for headaches because you forgot to drink water. And he found himself growing worried.

He knew you loved your work, and he admired that about you, but he didn't want to see you hurt yourself in the process. That was one of the first signs that Malcolm no longer saw you as just a colleague. Actually, Malcolm was far, far past that.

So far past that, that he caught himself thinking about you more often than he'd like. If the chef was cooking one of your favorite meals, he had to convince himself not to go tell you. If he heard you laugh, his stomach would erupt in butterflies. If something he said made you smile, he cold hardly repress a grin.

If he told anyone how he was feeling, he knew what they would say. Malcolm Reed has a crush.

The thought alone made Malcolm want to curl up into a ball. He knew there was nothing wrong with feelings, or relationships, but in a way he thought he was stronger than this. But as much as he wanted to think that of himself, he knew better. He had fallen for you, hard.

--- --- ---

Your eyes flicked over to Malcolm as you entered the security room. You had a few repairs there, but weren't expecting to see him, he was usually on the bridge at this time.

You often found yourself avoiding him. At first it was because he got on your nerves, but recently, as much as you hated yourself for it, it was because he made you nervous. If he would smirk or smile at you, your stomach would twist with a giddy feeling. If you caught him looking at you for any reason, your ears would burn. You hated it, just like you were supposed to hate him.

"More repairs Y/n?" His smooth voice echoed through the room.

You felt yourself jolt slightly as he acknowledged you, and by using your first name. You peered over your shoulder at him to find him looking at you.

Butterflies.

You swallowed briefly as you looked back at the control panel "No, I thought I'd go for a jog."

He smirked to himself "Perfect weather for it."

You smiled softly to yourself, but didn't reply, instead trying to focus on your work.

There were a few moments of silence before you felt a presence grow closer. Peering back a bit, you noticed Malcolm was now at a computer panel just behind you. His presence sent a shiver up your neck, but you tried to ignore it.

The silence was broken as Malcolm began humming an unfamiliar tune, repeating the same melody over and over.

As much as your ears burned due to his proximity, your annoyance grew. "Don't you know any other songs?" You finally spoke up, annoyance lacing your voice.

Malcolm smirked, glad he finally got your attention. "Hmm, well there is this one-"

As he started to hum a now familiar tune, you shook your head "No, anything but that."

He laughed, knowing the tune from the old western that played on repeat for three weeks at movie night would trigger your annoyance.

He chuckled softly "Well what would you prefer?"

"Silence?"

He snorted softly but went silent. You slowly started to regain concentration on your job, but it was broken as you felt as though he had gotten closer.

Looking back, you almost jumped at the proximity of your bodies as Malcolm peered over your shoulder, almost touching you.

His eyes met yours and your ears burned hot, he rose a brow and you stuttered out "Don't you know what personal space is?"

"Can't I see what you're doing in my security room?"

"I'm repairing, it's what I do."

Malcolm was afraid he was imagining the effect he had on you, but as your eyes darted nervously back to your work, he thought maybe he wasn't imagining anything.

Leaning down, he brought his face closer to yours and spoke softly "Am I making you nervous?"

You froze momentarily, and he swore your breathing stopped. But you quickly recovered as you side-eyed him.

"No, you're making me angry."

He chuckled but didn't move to leave, instead speaking again "Really? 'Cause your ears seem to be turning a different color."

You felt embarrassment and anger rush through you, could he see how he was affecting you? And was he making fun of you for it?

You met his eyes, your faces a mere inch from each other, you hissed "In your dreams."

You saw his eyes dip down to your lips for a split second. And as you heard the security room doors slide open, a faint smile played on his lips "Every night actually."

Giving you no time to respond, Malcolm rose and turned towards the new visitors and approached them, talking animatedly to the other security officers.

Your heart was hammering in your chest, as your ears and neck burned hot. Quickly finishing your repairs, you left before you could speak with Malcolm again. But as you left, you could feel his eyes on you.

--- --- ---

After your interaction with Malcolm, you threw yourself into your work to distract yourself. But by doing this, you managed to finish everything faster than normal.

As you sat at your desk, glancing at the clock, you noted it was dinner. But surely Malcolm wold be there, and you had no desire to see him at this moment.

You wanted to know what he meant by his comment. If he was just teasing you and he meant nothing by it, or, if there was truth in it. As much as you wanted to know, you also did not.

Sighing at your own indecisiveness you leaned back in your chair, eyes closed.

Hearing the door slide open, you turned and looked with light surprise. Your heart jolted as your breath caught in your throat as you saw Malcolm standing in the doorway.

Malcolm quickly shoved his hand behind his back as he stared at you. There was a moment of silence between you before he cleared his throat "Hello."

You quirked your brow in confusion as you tried to ignore your hammering heart. Your eyes glanced down at his hidden hand before you met his eyes.

"Can I help you?"

"I- uh, didn't think you'd be in here right now."

Was he nervous? You turned more in your chair so you were now facing him fully.

"Where else would I be?

"Well- I figured you were off repairing something since you did not come to dinner again."

"Oh." You felt a tug at your heart as you realized he noticed your absence. You suddenly wondered how many times he had noticed you were gone before.

Suddenly you felt a light bulb go off in your head as your eyes trailed down to his hidden hand again.

"Why would you come here if you thought I wouldn't be here?"

Malcolm could tell in the tone of your voice that you had figured it out. With a slightly defeated sigh, he brought his hand out into view, revealing a bowl of fruit.

"I heard- I know you like these, so I thought you'd want some before they were all eaten."

Your heart skipped a beat as your ears burned hot again. You stared at the fruit before you slowly looked up at his eyes. He was staring down, seemingly too shy to meet your eyes. It was a side of him you had never seen, and you were startled by how it affected you.

Barely able to repress a smile you stood up, your voice coming out softly. "So it's you then?"

Malcolm looked up and met your eyes, raising his brow.

"The one who keeps leaving me food and water?"

"Ah...well. Yes." He cleared his throat as he walked over to your desk, setting the fruit down, all while avoiding your eyes. "I had just been noticing recently what with the damage to the ship, that you've been working a lot of over time, and that you'd been missing lunch and dinner quite often, and I was afraid you might fall ill, so I thought I might as well leave you some food to remind you to eat.

As he rambled with a nervousness you had never seen, your heart was fluttering as you felt touched by his sudden caring side.

"Thank you Malcolm." You said softly, causing him to stop rambling and finally meet your eyes.

When he saw the soft expression on your face, he felt his heart melt in his chest.

"Well, you're welcome."

You smiled as you looked down at the fruit "How- how did you know what my favorite fruit was, or my favorite candy bar, well, everything you've been leaving for me has been my favorite."

Malcolm smiled, forcing away any embarrassment he might be feeling. "I know quite a lot about you actually. Things I've...noticed about you recently."

"Noticed? Like what?"

His eyes seemed to roam your face for a second and you felt vulnerable. But his face remained soft, as he smiled.

"Like how you take your coffee and tea, and how you always close your eyes when you take a drink of it. The way you walk the long way around to your station so you can check on everyone first. Or how you get so lost in your work you forget to take care of yourself."

There was a tone in his voice with this last sentence, that made it seem as though he was chastising you. But the smile on his face told you he was worried for you.

"Out of the two of us, who was the one who collapsed due to sleep deprivation?"

Malcolm chuckled "Touché."

You smiled "Thank you, for caring, it's kind of surprising really, I thought-"

"That I didn't like you?"

"Well, I at least thought you weren't very fond of me"

He smiled "I wasn't once. But then I started to see you for who you really are, and now, well now I'm much more than fond of you."

You smiled at each other as your eyes remained locked for a moment, taking the moment, you spoke softly. "I'm quite fond of you too actually."

"Is that so?" He questioned with a raise of his brow, his grin widening.

"Yes. As annoying as you can be, you are quite charming."

He chuckled "I'm sorry for all the teasing."

You shook your head with a soft laugh "It's alright, in a way, the teasing is what made me realize I liked you."

"Well then I wont stop."

You chuckled and shook your head with light bewilderment.

He grinned at you and cleared his throat "Well, are you still working or...would you like to accompany me to the dining hall? There's still time to eat, if you want."

"With you?"

"Yes, with me."

You smiled widely at him "I'd love too."

xx End xx

I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, please consider reblogging! It really helps spread it to others, and makes me very happy~

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[zot3-flopped]

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C8EvHD-Nl3U/?igsh=MW5mZjF5cnl1bnV1ZA==

the previous reddit post you posted doesn‘t shock me since in this clip that i linked it looks like she isn‘t singing that song and opens her mouth so she can hear when she should mouth along so nobody notices. And the „dancing“ one step forward, one step back. Wow that realllly is dancing on the highest level. So just to wrap it up. Doesn‘t sing every song live -one could watch videos from at home without having to pay. She dances horribly and the others outshine her- but you pay full price so shouldn‘t she be the main deal. Bad singing but isn‘t she a singer so just listen to the studio version if you want lyrics. Nothing special so just watch the tour movie. Also she doesn‘t care how hot or air restricting it is and doesn‘t care for her fans- so why put your health at risk for something mediocre. Go to another concert where at least one of those things can be met with a beyond „okay“ check mark. coldplay- amazing voice and stage production from every member

theweeknd- amazing voice and good stage production from the man himself as well

stevie nicks- good old hits with good lyrics and somebody who cares for the fans

harry styles- amazing presence with live vocals and more interactive bits that show care

…there are many more examples like billie, ari or olivia. So as somebody whose cousin went to the eras tour…don‘t be stupid and use the money and time for something else, you can always watch a livestream if you so desperately want to see a mediocre singer dancer and performer like taylor

100%. My cousin had a choice between an Eras ticket for Wembley and a week in a nice hotel in Kefalonia. Both cost the same! Thank goodness she picked the vacation.

[dracoangel]

DA: The Veilguard Review

Finally finished the game, so here is my review of Dragon Age: The Veilguard. Full of spoilers so it will be under the cut!

But overall score: 6/10

For me, the game didn't get good until the end. At the Battle with Ghilan'nain and after. Before that it had it's good moments, but they were few and far between.

Graphics/Art Style & Character Creation

Truth be told, I'm still not a fan of the style but I got used to it. I've already made my opinion on this matter known in various posts, so here I'll simply put: too cartoony, not a fan.

Character Creation was pretty decent. Some high points: Saving your character as a preset so that can be imported (so long as you keep that character). Down side: they should have done the same with the Inquisitor. And HAIR PHYSICS and they were great! At least for the hairs I tried out. I didn't have any issues with them going wild, which was very nice. Down side: need more ponytail options.

Combat

I played as a mage, and the combat took a lot to get used to. It's vastly different from any of the previous DA games. But I did come to really enjoy it, especially using the dagger/orb combo even if it had a much shorter range. Sometimes it gets tedious to switch constantly during fights depending on what was best for the moment; for instance in the middle of darkspawn "spawning" fights where you have to destroy the blight to get them to stop spawning, that is kinda rough for me because of targeting.

Writing, Dialogue and Choice

Overall the game has mediocre writing at best, and poor Taash just got butchered with their writing; which is a shame, because they are a good character. The dialogue is far too modern. And the dialogue felt very condescending, as if the writers think we're idiots and have to be forcefully spoon fed. There are ways of writing characters like Taash and they failed.

Party dialogue was actually not bad for the most part. I found most of it to be quite entertaining.

The game just didn't feel like an RPG, they only gave the illusion of choice in dialogue and with missions except 2 instances: choosing between Tevinter and Antiva, and the choice of who was leading the distraction team against Ghilan'nain. Everything else, they gave you the illusion of choices but in the end it doesn't really change anything.

Companions

I was actually very surprised. I like all the companions, which is a first for me in a Dragon Age game. There is always at least 1 companion I'm not a fan of, which isn't a bad thing either; just like the real world some personalities just don't jive together. I honestly wasn't sure if I was going to like Bellara, but she grew on me. And as stated previously, Taash got butchered with her writing.

Romance

For my romance I chose Lucanis. I don't know if all romances are the same in regards to pacing, but Lucanis' romance was a SLOOOOOW burn. So slow that until the scene after you make it out of Solas' trap I didn't feel like I was in a romance with anyone. If it hadn't been for the hearts in Lucanis' character screen I wouldn't have known we were in a romance; I was starting the think that a few vague flirts were all that Bioware was going to give me, which would have left me with a super bad taste in my mouth. Especially since it seemed that members of my team were having better romances than I was 🤣 Certain party members were getting their freak on and/or going on all night dates long before I got my first kiss. So, needless to say, I think they need to add more to romances to make them actually feel like you're in a romance. At least in Lucanis' case, like I said I don't know how the rest are. 1 real romance scene and at the tail end just isn't enough.

Edit: from what I learned, all romances are slow burns and get the same treatment. Which is baffling. Especially with characters like Taash.

Rook

I found myself both really liking Rook and being disappointed. I felt like Rook was an after thought character, whereas the companions got the most attention. They are 3 flavors of nice, you can't be mean or really disagree with anyone and you're everyone else's therapist. I don't know why we got different "emotion" options, when they were all basically the same; one was just slightly more quippier or slightly more blunt and as far as I can tell it doesn't change Rook's tone in conversions, they have a more humorous/sarcastic tone by default even if you never choose that option (like my 2nd character I choose the "diplomatic" and "tough" options but she's still a sarcastic bitch). Which I feel it limits replayablitity as different characters because they may look unique but they definitely don't act it.

Story

The bones of the main story were pretty good, though the writing nearly ruins it. But I'm not too proud to not admit that the the Battle with Ghilan'nain and the scene in the Fade trap did have me bawling. Davrin was the one to sacrifice himself to help take her down and poor Assan went into the pool of blight with him (so I'm assuming Assan died too 😭😭) and then finding out that Varric had been dead the whole time... that one wrecked me a bit. I thought they were going to kill him off, but I thought it was going to be one of those "noble sacrifices at the end" type deals. Only to find out he died at the beginning and you've basically been hallucinating him this entire time (makes me feel slightly bad ribbing him about not actually helping, other than being that listening ear 😂).

Unfortunately the relationship between Rook and Varric fell kinda flat, seeing as we came in a year after they've already established their partnership. So the tears I shed were not for what Rook lost, but who the Inquisitor, Hawke and myself as a player lost. Our man Varric has been with us for 13 years, we've watched his character change so much since that first introduction at the Gallows and it's sad to see him go, even if I did foresee it.

Truthfully, the game didn't feel much like it was part of the Dragon Age universe. Not having our past choices as part of the world for that flavor really hurt the game. Sure there were small instances from previous games, like at Weisshaupt there were little flavor texts; like the chalice that was recovered from Ostagar, which was the chalice our Grey Warden drank from. A letter mentioning Kristoff, who was a Grey Warden in Dragon Age Awakening who died and the spirit of Justice (the same spirit who would end up possessing Anders in DA2) possessed his body to fight alongside us. But it's not enough. There was one instance I was kind of irked by, after meeting Morrigan in the Fade and finding out she now housed a shard of Mythal, Harding makes mention of Morrigan helping the Inquisition by turning into a dragon. They made that into a world canon event, when in fact that only happens if you allow Morrigan to drink from the Well of Sorrows instead of letting the Inquisitor do it. I chose to have the Inquisitor drink from the Well and thus we had to go fight a dragon and basically temporarily tame it. So that was very irksome to me that they basically changed my world state.

I'm not sure why who the Inquisitor romanced in Inquisition really mattered to the story and was one of the 3 options that actually did carry over. My Inquisitor romanced Dorian and their romanced was only ever referred to at the tail end of the game right before the final fight against Elgar'nan; wasn't even brought up in like the few letters the Inquisitor sent or by Harding, nothing. Dorian showing up in the story (as brief as it was) at least makes sense since the story partly taking place in Tevinter. Do the other romance options show up at some point or at the end battle?

Edit: From what I have now learned, no the other romances don't show up. Dorian only did because he was part of the Shadow Dragons. In the end the real question shouldn't have been who the Inquisitor romanced, but did they romance Solas or not. That would have been more accurate and wouldn't give us non-solasmancers false hope

I think I covered everything. I'll add more in edits if I think of something I missed.

So overall, the game was a 6/10. It was decent enough that I'm definitely going to be playing again. Could it have been better? Most definitely, there were some very glaring flaws. But it wasn't the trash heap I thought it was going to be. But it's definitely not as good as Baldur's Gate 3, which I've seen people say it is (it's not even in the same league, sorry).

If you are new to the franchise this game would probably be closer to an 8/10 because you don't have that connection to the rest of the Dragon Age world. Though the writing is still atrocious no matter what, the game is a decent action game.