#this is why i said maybe you wanted a different movie

[capseycartwright]

you're my sun, my moon, my guiding star

“Fine, let’s have it your way then,” Eddie slammed his phone down on the kitchen table. “You set me up a dating profile then – Hinge, Grindr, whatever you fucking want, Buck. Set me up a dating profile, and you pick which random man I need to sleep with to make it so you feel okay about wanting me.” 

in which evan buckley gets dumped, gets drunk with his best friend, realises he's in love with said best friend, and lets his abandonment issues get the best of him. because your first is never your last, right? so buck can't be eddie's first: he needs to be his last.

ao3 link

Buck was driving himself to Eddie’s before he could really even think about it, the autopilot of his brain engaging and getting him behind the wheel, and on the road to his best friend’s house without needing much thought at all. Eddie was who he needed, in that moment – not Maddie, and her sage advice, not Hen, who’d be clever, and logical about it all. No, he needed Eddie. Eddie, who inexplicably opened the front door in his underwear and a pink shirt. Eddie, who let them sit in silence, a playlist churning out eighties rock for a full twenty-three minutes (Buck checked) before Eddie said anything at all. 

“So,” Eddie set his empty drink down, gesturing to Buck for a second. Buck twisted the cap off before he handed it over, adding to the pile on the coffee table. “What happened? You said that you and Tommy were going to the movies tonight.” 

Buck groaned, the sound loud in the quiet of Eddie’s house. “I was supposed to be,” he slumped back onto the couch. “But then he dumped me.” 

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “He dumped you?”

“He dumped me,” Buck confirmed. “Because I am a deeply unlovable individual who is going to die alone.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I think you might be being dramatic there.”

“I’m not!” Buck protested. “Eddie, everyone I date dumps me – or leaves me. That apparently doesn’t even change when I’m dating a man. It’s not – I thought it would be different, with Tommy.” 

“Because he’s a man?” Eddie’s confusion wasn’t judgemental – no, Eddie never judged him, Buck was sure of that much. It was sincere confusion, his best friend wanting to understand where Buck was coming from.

“Yeah? No? I mean – maybe,” Buck huffed. He wasn’t entirely sure how to articulate himself. “I guess – I guess I just thought that now I know who I am, that I’m like – consciously aware I’m bisexual – it might be different. That maybe it didn’t work out before because there was this part of me that I didn’t know, or understand, and that had affected my relationships because I wasn’t bringing my like, whole self to the table. But if it didn’t work with Tommy, then that’s not why. Right? Then the problem is me.” 

Eddie’s expression softened. “I don’t think the problem is you, Buck.”

“It has to me! I’m the only common denominator here.”

Buck wanted to cry. He wanted to lie down on Eddie’s couch and cry until he had nothing left – and it wasn’t about Tommy, really, because Buck had liked Tommy, but the end of their relationship wasn’t what was making him feel so devastated. It was the idea of Tommy, more than anything else – what Tommy represented. A happily ever after that Buck was falling short of all over again. 

“What did Tommy say, exactly? Maybe – maybe you’re spiralling, and he gave you a good reason that you’re not seeing.” 

“He – I asked him to move in with me.” 

“Buck.”

Eddie sounded long-suffering. Buck had earned that. He knew that much. “I know,” he knew it had been the wrong move. The words were barely out of his mouth, and Buck knew it had been the wrong move – but that was sort of his thing, to cling desperately to relationships that didn’t work because he was so terrified of being alone. “I just – I felt comfortable with him, and the whole Abby thing was weird.”

“Really weird,” Eddie agreed, wincing. 

“But not the kind of weird I couldn’t get past. Right? He came over tonight, and I told him – why be apart when we could be together. Then, he said he couldn’t move in with me, because if he did, I would only break his heart,” Buck sighed. He wouldn’t intend to. That’s what Tommy had said – but who ever planned to break someone’s heart? No one was that cruel. Maybe they were – but Buck wasn’t. He’d never wanted to break anyone’s heart, even if that had been the end result sometimes. 

Eddie was quiet for a second. “Did he say why he thought you’d break his heart?”

Buck’s beer burned his throat as he took another gulp, the sour taste lingering. “He said that he was my first, but he wasn’t my last.” 

read the rest on ao3

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

hii love! i just read your clingy so u distance yourself fic for the bazillion time and i cried again no surprise🥹 I just wanted to say i love your works so much and would live to request for an angst oneshot with brother bsf chan? basically reader has been pining for chan for a few years but she never got the courage to tell chan cause she thinks she isn’t good enough for chan. Then afterwards basically chan got a girlfriend who hated her and basically influenced chan to stop hanging out with her which he listened to and told the reader which the reader told him that his girlfriend wasn’t loyal but he thought she was sabotaging his relationship and so they ended off on bad terms but turns out a few weeks later he caught his girlfriend cheating and went back to the reader? sorry if it is kinda long but i rlly need a oneshot like this to read when i just need some angst i really live and admire your works so id be elated if you did my request. thank you and lots of love❤️

my first piece since I went on a mini little baby hiatus. and i had a lot of joy writing this. so i hope you enjoy <3!!!

Brothers Bsf Chan x Fem!Reader (angst/fluff)

6.8k words

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You didn’t know when it started. Was it a simple touch? A brush of a hand or an accidental graze of fingers? Or was it one of those lazy Friday nights where Chan would crack jokes to you and his best friend- your older brother Jisung- while you three were watching movies in the house you grew up in. Or did it stem back all the way to those days where you would chase after Chan and Jisung on the playground, down your neighborhood streets- crying out for them to wait for you. Those cries stopped when Chan would reach his hand out to bring you along.

Maybe it was a combination of all of those things, those things you had tried so hard to forget because it could only lead to heartbreak. Falling in love with your brother’s best friend was no easy feat for anyone. Let alone when you were falling for someone like Chan, who was so hard to fall out of love with. Maybe even more so for you since he would always be in your life. Him and Jisung were nearly joined at the hip, which made it even harder to hide your pining for him. You wouldn’t dare love out loud, but it was starting to whisper through the cracks of your resolve.

You were unconditionally in love with everything about Chan. 

That's how it was for years, and how you intended it to be for as long as allowed. You spent countless nights staring at your ceiling, wondering if he could ever see you the way that you saw him. You were sure things were only platonic between the two of you, but you couldn’t help but linger on the memories of certain looks, certain gestures that you couldn’t delude yourself into believing happened between friends. 

Things started to change when Chan began dating someone new. 

Duri. Her name was Duri, and the first time you met her, you knew she was the type to turn heads. She had a smile that could light up a room and a confidence you could only dream of. Standing next to her, you felt small, like a background character in Chan’s life story. A girl who captured Chan’s attention so easily. A girl who wrapped him up in her life so easily that you knew you were to be forgotten. He was smitten and her words flowed like the river of the smoothest molasses. She could easily convince Chan, he didn’t need you. Because she didn’t like you.

You weren’t sure why, but it was obvious. And because she didn’t like you, her feelings towards Jisung weren’t all that different, it seemed. And slowly you felt like Chan was making his way out of your life.

“Ji, why isn’t Chris here?” You loved the way his name sounded when you said it. Not many people around you called him Chris, so it felt special to call him that. He seemed to enjoy it as well, not ever asking you to conform to societal norms.

“He’s probably just busy, Y/N-ie…I’m sure he’ll come back around.” Jisung said one day as you guys sat on the couch, scrolling through movies. It was the first Friday movie Chan had missed. And even if it was the first time he had missed it, you knew it would be a regular occurrence.

In all honesty, at first, you tried to like Duri. She was with Chan, after all, and you thought that maybe you could be friends. That maybe if you could convince yourself to like her then the pain of not being the one that Chan loved would ease.. But the more you saw her, the more you felt her sharp, indirect glances, the way she dismissed you with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She made you feel invisible, as if you were only tolerated because you were Jisung’s sister. Even if she just barely tolerated the latter.

Over time, you saw the changes in Chan too. He became distant, no longer the easygoing guy who’d spend hours with you and your brother. He was still polite, still kind, but he was pulling away, bit by bit. You told yourself it was just a phase, that he’d come around once things settled down with Duri.

But then, one night, things came to a head.

You, Jisung, and Chan had made plans to meet at your favorite café—just a casual hangout, like old times. But when Chan showed up with his girlfriend by his side, something was off. His smile was forced, his laughs hollow. He barely met your eyes, and when you spoke, and even then  it was like he wasn’t really listening. To the point that Jisung even pointed it out. Every time you spoke, Duri happened to speak at the same time. Every time a question was directed at you, Duri somehow changed the conversation. You felt small and insignificant and made your way home early. You couldn’t stand to sit there and see the man you were so down bad for with his significant other. Duri had sat close to him, her hand always somewhere on his arm or shoulder, marking her territory in the subtlest way, in a way that caused an anger that wasn’t so subtle. 

But even then after leaving you couldn’t shake the ache in your chest. You sat down on a bench outside of a convenience store by your home, trying to sort out your feelings. 

You okay? I’ll be heading home soon. We went out to drink. 

You quickly type out a reply to Jisung, your fingers shaking as you realized just how cold it was. Just as you were about to get up to leave a pale hand reached out to you with a warm drink. 

You looked up to see a guy with dark and prominent eyebrows, and a little birthmark on his nose. 

“You seemed cold. Its…” He looked at the can. “Mocha flavored.” He handed it back out to you and smiled softly. 

“Thank you.” You said with a small bow of your head, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtful gesture. 

“You live in the neighborhood right? Your brother…looks like a squirrel?” The man’s voice was soft and shy, like he thought he was talking too much.

“Oh! You’re our new neighbor? I’m Han Y/N.” You said with a flourished bow.

“Park Sunghoon. Nice to meet you��” He shuffled awkwardly. “Would you like me to wait before I walk home…I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“No! No! It’s fine, I'm not uncomfortable. You can walk home with me.” You say quietly. “Maybe it’ll be nice to not feel lonely.”

As you made your way back home with Sunghoon you had a weird feeling in your chest. You thought maybe you were just trying to sort your feelings, but it was more of an intuitive sense. 

Then you got a text from your brother.

I’m coming home. Duri tried to make a move on me and I’m not trying to get into it with Chan while she is here.

You blinked at the text, nodding when your voice registered Sunghoon asking if you were okay.

That was that odd feeling…

You didn’t know if it was selfish to feel happy that Duri was a tool, but you did. You didn’t want Chan to get hurt so you decided to go talk to him. Giving a message on behalf of Jisung, who thought maybe Chan would listen better if it was coming from a girl

“Hey, can I talk to you?” you asked, your voice soft but determined, as you walked up to him outside of his job a few days later.

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, looking a bit surprised. He followed you to a quieter part of the park, away from prying eyes. “Is everything okay? Jisung hasn’t texted me in a couple of days…"

You took a breath, feeling the words tangle on the tip of your tongue. “Chris…I just…I feel like you’re not around as much anymore. I get that you’re with Duri, but…it’s like you’re pulling away from me and Jisung. My brother is too scared to say anything, but he feels just as bad, if not worse than I do.”

He frowned, looking down at the ground. “I’m sorry if it feels that way,” he said finally, but not much emotion in his voice. “But…I need to be there for Duri. She’s… she doesn’t feel comfortable with me hanging out so much with, you know…” He trailed off, not meeting your eyes.

Your heart sank, a cold dread washing over you. “With me, you mean?”

He hesitated, but the silence was all the confirmation you needed. “She…doesn’t get why I’m so close with you. And I don’t want her to feel insecure, so I…I think it’s best if we… keep some distance. Just for now.”

You stared at him, feeling a surge of hurt and anger. “Chris, she’s manipulating you!” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “She’s making you feel guilty for caring about people who were here long before she was. Because she knows those people will pinpoint, that she’s a manipulative cheater!”

He looked at you, a flash of anger in his eyes at the words. “You don’t know her like I do,” he snapped.

You flinched at the venom in his voice. He had never snapped at you and you could feel tears spring to your eyes.

“She tried to make a move on Ji…” You said quietly. “And don’t try and say my brother is a liar, Chris,  because you know he’s not.”

Chan gave a sarcastic chuckle. “She already told me that Y/N. She was drunk. It was nothing more than that.”

“Drunk actions are sober thought Chris!” You shot back.

“Oh, so the first time you ever got drunk and confessed your feelings for me was a sober thought?”

You felt your body freeze and you blinked at Chan with wide eyes. You blacked out the first time you had ever drank and didn’t touch anything since. You never knew you had admitted to liking Chan.

“So it’s true then? You actually love me?” Chan let out a large sigh. “Frankly, it’s not fair for you to accuse her of things that aren’t true just because you put me on a pedestal. Your feelings for me aren’t my responsibility Y/N. This…this just feels like you’re trying to come between us because of some childish jealousy. She’s my girlfriend, and I trust her more than I trust someone who hasn’t been honest to me for years.”

You felt like you’d been slapped. The words cut deeper than anything you’d expected, leaving you struggling for air. “That’s not…that’s not what I’m doing, Chan. I just…I don’t want to see you get hurt.” You tried to say back. “My feelings have nothing to do with this I’m coming to you as a friend-”

“Friends don’t feel that way about each other Y/N! Once you cross that line friendship can’t be used as a label. Do you ever think that Duri might be acting this way because you absolutely suck at hiding your feelings?!” His voice was sharper than ever and you could feel a sad squeeze in your heart. “So deal with the fact that I’m going to put my girlfriend first- regardless of what I feel for you.” There was the slightest hesitation and falter in his face at his last words, but you were too upset to decipher what exactly that meant. “ I’m done with this conversation. I’ll see you later, Y/N.” He said in a soft yet defeated voice, leaving you standing there, heartbroken and speechless.

The next few weeks were met with silence.  Jisung asked what had happened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. You kept your pain buried, letting it fester in the corners of your mind. Chan had felt terrible for yelling at you, and had come over to apologize with extra snacks for your guys Friday night movie, but to his surprise, it was only Jisung who was there. 

“Where is Y/N?” Chan asked, setting down your favorite candy and chips on the reclining chair you always claimed. He looked around the corner to see if you were in your room. Your door was open and he walked in, looking at the little polaroids littered across your room on various walls and flat surfaces. He looked at your books and plushies with a soft smile. 

“She’s working overtime tonight. Do you want to watch a Marvel or DC movie?” Jisung called from the living room. Chan’s brow furrowed. He knew the company you worked for closed early on Fridays, all employees getting off early. Something he had realized after observing you for so long. 

“Marvel…” Chan called out, closing the door behind himself.

As suspected you weren’t working overtime. 

Rather as time passed, you found comfort in unexpected places. One of those places was the attractive man that one night, your neighbor Sunghoon. Who, much to your surprise, shared your interests and understood your silence without question. He became your confidant, your quiet escape from the heartache Chan had left behind.

“He’s probably over at my house right now with Jisung.” You had mumbled as you cuddled up on his side. Also, much to your surprise, Sunghoon was a great cuddle buddy. What was even better is that he wanted nothing in return, nor were there any ill intentions letting you grow close to him in an emotional and physical way. He had confided in you that a deeper intimacy was something he couldn’t ever see himself liking, which was why he was set on settling down alone, and that he wasn’t much of a physical person to begin with, but with you he found himself not minding the soft physicality much at all. 

“Like we’re twin flames right.” You had joked, that day, holding out your pinky. He had nodded, locking pinkies with yours. 

“You’re right, but I am more than sure he won’t think to come over her-”

The doorbell rang and you sprung up from your position on the couch as Sunghoon made his way to the door. 

“Well speak of the devil…” He mumbled. 

Chan stood at the doorway of Jisung’s new neighbor, delivery food in his hand. He looked at the bag and considered the weight of the bag.

Maybe a couple having date night?

“Hello?” A tall and undeniably attractive man stood at the door. 

Damn…wow uh-

“Oh, hey! I think your delivery was sent to my friend’s house. I just wanted to make sure you knew it was here...” The man looked at Chan with a blank look. 

Are kids these days given supplements or something…why is he so majestic looking…

“Oh, thank you.” He said , bowing and grabbing the food.

Before the door was shut, Chan could’ve sworn he noticed a pair of familiar shoes, but disregarded it, making his way back to Jisung’s.

As more time passed, you found yourself missing Chan rather than getting over him. 

“Is it strange, Sungie?” you asked while you were building a puzzle with him one evening- another Friday. “That I’m absolutely pissed, and heartbroken, but I want nothing more than to see him? And I can’t think of anything other than I miss him?”

Sunghoon thought for a moment and then spoke softly. “No, it’s not strange at all. Rather, it’d be strange if you didn’t. Sometimes, love clings to us hardest when we’re hurting the most. It's like every part of you is aching for the one person who can make it better—even if they’re the one who hurt you. Missing him doesn’t make you weak; it just means he’s still a part of your heart. Sometimes, loving someone means feeling everything all at once—the anger, the heartbreak, and that unstoppable longing. It’s okay to feel it all."

You were at your house, and Sunghoon was over since he had become a regular visitor, after Jisung befriended him and then finally pieced together where you were going every Friday and other odd days of the week when you first heard the news. At first he had assumed you and Sunghoon were a thing until you both quickly shot down that notion by informing Jisung that relationships and love were not Sunghoon’s cup of tea.

But since he now knew that wasn’t the case, and had long since known the truth since your first and last drunk outing he thought you might want to know.

“They broke up. Strange enough, Chan didn’t seem all that upset—I mean, he did seem upset, but you think you’d be more upset when you break up, you know?” Jisung rambled, barely pausing for breath. “Instead, he was, like, really calm, which made no sense to me. I feel like I’d be freaking out, or, like, super sad, or anxious, or angry. How can you just be indifferent to a breakup with someone you thought was going to be the love of your life? It’s like those characters in anime—”

You tuned out Jisung’s voice, the news sinking in like stones in your stomach as you laid your head against Sunghoon’s side as he read the ingredients on an air freshener bottle while he waited for Jisung to finish warming up food. 

Chan and Duri had broken up. Your heart was a tangled mess of relief and pain, of memories you hadn’t let yourself fully process. After all those months, he was free—but what did it mean now? What did any of it mean when he’d already chosen her once?

As Jisung continued his rapid-fire monologue, you watched to the two people who had been a distraction these past few weeks: him and Sunghoon. Sunghoon, in a more practical way since he knew the depths of your doubts and worries, and easily fit into the spot of your platonic soulmate and best friend. It seemed he was more versed on the Chan-sized hole in your heart than even you were, and you were glad you now had him to walk these roads with you.

Eventually Jisung came back to the living room with dinner, and you were soon enough immersed into the activities of the evening. 

You were unaware what was about to go down when the knock at the door came, Jisung springing up to answer it, his laughter echoing down the hall as he let someone in. The air around you shifted, growing thicker, familiar, and before you even turned around, you knew who was standing there. 

You had known him long enough to sense when the man you loved was in the room. His presence filled it quickly enough, his gaze sweeping over the space, lingering a little too long on you and Sunghoon, who seemed to be molded together perfectly, Sunghoon’s arm lazily resting on your leg.

Jisung shot you an awkward glance before mumbling something about getting snacks from the store. He and Sunghoon exchanged a glance, and, with a silent nod Sunghoon got up, and they left, closing the door behind them. You were left alone with Chan in the thick silence that followed, the quiet pressing down around you.

Chan’s expression was tense, guarded, and yet, behind his eyes, you saw a trace of vulnerability. He took a hesitant step toward you, his voice soft. “Y/N…”

You met his gaze, pain simmering just beneath the surface. “What are you doing here?”

He took a deep breath, guilt etched into the lines of his face. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice cracking slightly. “I should have listened to you. I didn’t… I couldn’t see it. I was so focused on Duri that I didn’t see what was right in front of me. She wasn’t loyal. I caught her cheating, and I realized just how wrong I was and how right you and Jisung were.”

His words landed between you, each one a mix of relief and ache that clawed at your heart. But you couldn’t ignore the questions tumbling through your mind—the doubts that held you back from even entertaining the hope you’d once felt. You folded your arms, steadying yourself as you looked away.

“Chan, I don’t even know what to say to you. It’s not just about her or your breakup,” you said, voice low.

The older boy flinched at your words. 

“Chan…” He mumbled. You had rarely ever spoken his name aloud like that before. So rarely he couldn’t even remember the last time you did, and he didn’t even recognize your voice when you said it. “I messed up horribly…didn’t I?”

 “You didn’t just choose her.” You started. “You looked me in the eyes and didn’t believe me. You accused me of saying things because of personal feelings. Then went on to accuse me of lying to you because I never confessed my feelings- even though apparently I did and you just omitted the truth of what I said when I blacked out as if that's not also a form of dishonesty. You thought I was trying to ruin your happiness, like I’d sabotage your relationship out of jealousy. Are you serious, Chan?”

He winced again, his hand reaching toward you as if he wanted to touch you but was too afraid. “I know, Y/N, and I hate that I did that to you. I was wrong. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I just… I needed you to know that I truly am am sorry. I didn’t think I had hurt you that badly and it was foolish.”

The hurt that had sat quietly in your heart surged to the surface, and before you could stop yourself, you murmured, “So what? You’re here now because you need a rebound? You want someone to feel close to because she’s gone?”

Chan’s face fell, confusion and hurt flickering across his features. “What? No, Y/N, it’s not like that at all. You’re not some replacement or… or backup. You’ve never been that to me, ever.”

“Then what am I, Chan?” You shook your head, frustration and sorrow mingling together. “Because if I was the first one you come to- not even your best friend-” You said referring to your brother. “Than there has to be reason behind that. Let me guess, you feel something for me?” 

Chan swallowed and you knew his answer when you saw the look in his brown eyes. You let out and exasperated sigh and tried to hold back your tears, but couldn’t so you looked at the ground instead.

“If you really felt this way—if you really cared about me or dare I even say loved me…then why did you pick her? Why now, after you’ve been with her all this time? Am I supposed to believe that just because she’s out of the picture, you’ve suddenly realized what you want?” Your voice was sad and defeated and you let your tears fall. “If so that's really really mean.” You whined sadly.

His eyes widened, and he shook his head emphatically. “No, it’s not because of that. Y/N, I was so stupid. I’ve spent these past few weeks… I didn’t even realize how much I missed you until I lost you. I can’t just go back to how things were, but I know I want you in my life. I don’t want to lose you.”

He paused until you looked up at him, his heart shattering even more at the glossiness behind your sad eyes. “It’s not that Y/N-ie not at all. Sometimes you really just don’t know what you’ve had until you lost it.

But something about his gaze shifted as he glanced back toward the door where Jisung and Sunghoon had left. His mouth pressed into a thin line, his brows drawn together in a dark, unreadable expression. “Guess I’ve already been replaced though, huh?” He said quietly.

You felt your stomach twist at his words, your tears drying almost immediately with the thought of where this was heading. “Replaced? What are you even talking about?”

“Your neighbor,” he said bitterly, albeit soft; the label sharp on his tongue. “You and him. I came here to tell you how much I’ve messed things up, only to see you with him. I guess it didn’t take long for you to move on.”

The accusation in his voice stung, leaving you feeling exposed. You bit back the urge to yell, to let out the anger that had simmered for so long. You knew it brought some validity to his earlier statement, him being jealous of Sunghoon, but God did you sometimes want to smack sense into him.

 “You don’t get to come in here and make assumptions about me, Chan. Sunghoon is my friend. He’s been here because you weren’t. Because you pushed me away. I didn’t have a choice.”

“But you looked happy cuddled with him,” he said, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. “It didn’t seem like you missed me at all.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the tightness in your chest intensify. “Of course, I missed you. But you don’t get to accuse me of moving on. I waited. I wanted… I thought maybe one day you’d see me. But you chose her. You chose someone who didn’t even care about you, and I was the one left behind. So of course I needed comfort.”

He took a shaky breath, eyes softening as he stepped closer. “I chose wrong. I see that now, Y/N. I know I hurt you, and I don’t expect you to just forget that. But I can’t pretend now that I don’t feel something for you.”

You stared at him, searching his face for any hint of sincerity, but doubt gnawed at you. “We just went over this. How am I supposed to know it’s real? How am I supposed to believe that you actually want me, and not just because it’s convenient? If you loved me before than why not say something.”

“Why didn’t you say something!”

“Because unlike you I don’t go around dating people while I have a crush on someone Chan! If it was ‘oh so obvious’ than you should have said something. Or I don’t know, maybe when I blacked out and confessed you could have done something then-”

“I was petrified!” Chan shouted, causing you to take a step back. “How…how am I supposed to respond when my best friend’s little sister tells me she’s been in love with me since we were kids. And that’s its only growing?” He swallowed. “Am I supposed to take that risk and tell her its mutual, but that I don’t want to do anything in case things get messy? Because I don’t want to ruin things? Relationships are complicated Y/N! People fight and argue but romantic ones are so much heartier. Those arguments and fights hold more weight than friendships. I wasn’t…happy…only being your friend but I was content. Even if it meant I wouldn’t get to hold you or kiss you, or see your face in my children’s faces I was okay with that as long as it meant there was no risk in ruining things between us. And that saved me from the risk of getting on uneasy territory with Jisung. So I left it alone. I didn’t tell you. I asked Jisung to forget about it even if that meant he was upset at me for quote ‘rejecting my wonderful and perfect  little sister’ unquote.”

You stood there, lips trembling, not knowing what to say as he lay his heart in front of you.

He reached out, brushing a thumb over your cheek in a tender, hesitant motion. “But now that I know what it’s like to live without you, Y/N,  I can’t go back to that. I can’t. I don’t want anyone else. I just want a chance to make this right.”

The vulnerability in his eyes was almost too much, the raw honesty in his touch searing against your skin. But your heart still trembled with uncertainty, with a fear that ran deep.

“I’m petrified now.”

A tear slipped down his cheek as he nodded, a small chuckle leaving his lips, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that had fallen from your own eyes. “I’ll spend every day proving to you how much I love you, Y/N, so you won’t have a reason to be scared. I don’t want to lose you, not again. I was blind, but I see it now. And if you’ll let me, I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. To get you to a point where you won’t be able to deny the fact I only want you.”

You held his gaze, your heart wavering between the hope you’d never fully let go of and the fear that he’d break it all over again. And in that quiet moment, with the ache of the past between you, a fragile, cautious feeling began to bloom once more.

You took a steadying breath, bracing yourself as you met Chan’s eyes. “Chan, I don’t know what assumptions you’ve made about Sunghoon, but he’s just my friend. He’s been there because…” You hesitated, the words delicate on your tongue. “Because I needed someone. Not someone to date, or to replace you, but just…someone who understands. He’s helped me pick up the pieces after everything fell apart. And he’s not even interested in relationships like that. We’re just close in a different way.”

Chan blinked, his gaze softening as he listened, brows knitting in a mixture of relief and confusion. “So… you and Sunghoon… you’re really just friends?”

“Yes,” you replied, hoping he could hear the sincerity in your voice. “And he’s not going to change his mind about that. He doesn’t want anything more with anyone. It’s not in him. But he’s been a good friend—my best friend…my soulmate really.” Your voice trailed off quietly. “He’s someone I could talk to when I felt like I’d lost you.”

Chan let out a slow breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he looked away, processing. “I…I feel so stupid. I was so ready to believe you’d moved on, that you’d replaced me. It was like this nightmare I’d imagined every night, that you’d found someone else who actually deserved you. And when I walked in and saw you both…”

His words faltered, and he rubbed a hand over his face, frustration and regret etched deep. “But I know I can’t blame you for being close to him. You had every right to find support after what I put you through. I just…”

“You just didn’t believe me,” you finished for him, the words raw but necessary. “And then you left, and I didn’t know how to fill that space you’d left behind but Sunghoon found a way. But that doesn’t mean he warrants any jealousy from you, Chris. I’m hoping you can learn to love him like you love Jisung. For me?”

He nodded, his eyes filled with regret.A part of you softened at the earnestness in his expression, the vulnerability that showed he understood, at least on some level, of what all of this meant. You sighed, feeling the weight of everything settling over you, but also immensely light.

But Chan seemed like he was struggling for a moment.

“Whats wrong?”

He bit his lip, his gaze darting away for a second before he finally asked, “Was there ever a point when…when you thought you could move on? That maybe you’d fall for someone else?”

The question struck deeper than you’d expected, and for a moment, you just looked at him, letting yourself process the vulnerability etched into his features. Did he truly think he could simply be replaced? That you’d spent years loving him, only to let him go?

“I thought about it,” you admitted, your voice soft but steady. “I thought maybe it would be easier if I could just let go. Even before all of this I thought about it. But no matter how much I tried, it was always you. It’s always been you.”

You felt the familiar sting of tears, and you blinked them away, not wanting him to see just how deeply his words affected you. “For the record, I don’t want to lose you either. But if we’re going to do this, we have to be honest. No more letting other people’s opinions get in the way. No more letting doubts fester between us.”

He nodded, a fierce determination filling his gaze. “No more doubts. I want us to be real, Y/N. Nothing standing in the way, just you and me.”

The weight of his words, the sincerity in his gaze, was almost overwhelming. You felt the warmth of his hand as he reached for yours, his fingers tentative, as if he wasn’t sure you’d accept him.

You took his hand, squeezing it gently, grounding yourself in the quiet assurance of his touch. It wasn’t the grand gesture you’d once dreamed of, but it was real. And somehow, that made it mean even more.

He looked down at your intertwined fingers, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles. “Thank you for giving me this chance, Y/N. I’ll spend every day showing you that I mean it.”

You offered him a small, tentative smile, one that held a flicker of hope. “And I’ll do my best to believe it. But you have to understand—this is going to take time.”

He nodded, his own smile softening his face. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

For a moment, you both stood there, hands entwined, caught in the delicate balance between past hurt and the fragile possibility of something new. The wounds might still be raw, but you could feel them beginning to heal, slowly, with each beat of your hearts in sync.

As you looked into his eyes, you felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time—a cautious, budding belief that maybe, just maybe, this time, things would be different.

A few weeks later, things had settled into a comfortable, tentative new rhythm. The past wasn’t forgotten, but it had softened around the edges, allowing something new to bloom between you and Chan—no, Chris. You’d started calling him that again recently, just between the two of you, and every time he heard it, his eyes lit up, as though it was his own quiet assurance that he had your forgiveness, that he wasn’t just “Chan,” your brother’s best friend, but Chris, the man you were falling for all over again.

You weren’t rushing anything, taking each moment as it came. There were stolen glances, shared laughter, and late-night conversations that stretched until dawn, weaving a new kind of trust between you. He was patient and gentle, letting you set the pace, and every step you took forward felt right. It was healing, a slow rekindling that felt like rediscovering a part of yourself that had been missing.

One Saturday afternoon, you and Chris were sitting on the couch, a movie playing in the background as he leaned closer, his arm resting around your shoulders. Sunghoon and Jisung had left to get snacks- Chris listening to your request and giving Sunghoon a chance, finding out that he genuinely enjoyed the company of your best friend. 

“Its like eternal best friend double dates.” Jisung had joked.

But since your brother and best friend had left, Chan had been looking at you with that soft, adoring expression you’d only dreamed of before, and it made you feel like you were the only person in his world.

“You’re staring,” you whispered, smiling as you felt a blush creep up your cheeks.

“Can you blame me?” he murmured back, his voice warm and low. “I’ve missed so much time, I don’t want to miss a single moment now.”

You felt your heart stutter, a nervous excitement bubbling up as you glanced down at his hand, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on the back of it. The space between you felt electric, and when he gently cupped your face, tilting it towards him, your breath caught. Slowly, as if asking permission, he leaned in.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and then his lips brushed softly against yours, a delicate kiss that felt like everything you’d waited for. His hand cradled your cheek, his thumb brushing gently as if he were afraid you might disappear. You kissed him back, your hand moving to rest against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your fingertips, strong and steady.

“Chris,” you whispered softly as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, his name slipping out naturally, comfortably. The warmth in his eyes told you he’d heard everything you couldn’t put into words—how he was forgiven, how he was here, truly here, and that was all you’d ever wanted.

The tender moment, though, was cut short by a loud gasp and a stumbling sound near the doorway. You whipped around to see Jisung and Sunghoon standing there, both looking wide-eyed and more than a little surprised.

“Oh… I did not mean to see that,” Jisung said, covering his eyes dramatically, though you could see the smirk threatening to break through. “My best friend and my little sister? Wow, I was not prepared!”

Sunghoon, by contrast, grinned openly, the kind of grin that said he’d known this would happen all along. “Took you both long enough,” he teased, making his way over towards you to whack your head affectionately. “I was starting to think I’d have to do something drastic to get you two together.”

You laughed, face warm with embarrassment, but Chris only chuckled, unfazed even by Sunghoon’s physical touch with you, as he slid his arm around your shoulders again. “You two need to learn how to knock,” he said lightly, squeezing you a little closer.

Sunghoon just shrugged, shooting you a mischievous look. “I’m sure Jisung didn’t feel a need to consider having to knock on the door of his own home.”

Jisung laughed, giving Sunghoon a playful nudge. But then turning to Chan with a serious look. “I might still need to have ‘the talk’ with you, Hyung. I know we’ve known each other forever, but this is new territory.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending to scowl at your brother. “Oh, please, Ji. You never said anything before.”

“It’s because you weren’t actually together at the time! But now you are.”

Chris leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, a look of peace and contentment in his eyes. “Yeah, and I’m not going anywhere this time,” he said, looking up at Jisung and Sunghoon, his tone serious yet gentle. “Not ever.”

Jisung nodded, his expression softening as he took in the scene. “Good. Just make sure you’re good to her, alright? Or else I’ll have to do the brotherly duty of fighting you or whatever older brothers are supposed to do…” He mumbled, turning towards Sunghoon for backup.

“Yeah…and I’ll do whatever a best friend does…” He said confused, shrugging as you laughed.

Chris’s grip tightened just slightly around your shoulders. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he said, his voice low and steady. “She’s the most important person in my life.”

Jisung scrunched up his nose, pretending to gag. “Ugh, okay, I was prepared for the brother talk, but I did not sign up for the mushy romance stuff. Can you two not be gross for five seconds?”

Chris laughed, glancing down at you with a sparkle in his eyes. “Fine, I’ll spare you… for now,” he said, giving you a playful nudge and a kiss to your nose

Sunghoon, ever the instigator, leaned back with a grin. “Hey, give them a break, Jisung. They’ve got years of this to catch up on. And honestly, I’m enjoying the show.”

Jisung threw a pillow in Sunghoon’s direction. “Well then maybe you should go find yourself someone if you think it’s cute seeing how my best friend and sister act.” He teased, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe they’ll have a sister and then you can join our family.”

Sunghoon shuddered and shook his head. “No thank you. But Y/N’s kids will have an Uncle who spoils them.” He said, grabbing the bottle of Soju from the coffee table.

“Hey! I get the title of favorite Uncle automatically.” Jisung whined. “No fair.”

Sunghoon shrugged. “The favorite Uncle has to be from the maternal side.”

“The hypothetical-” He shot a look at you. “Mom in question is my sister!”

“Logic, doesn’t always logic my dear friend.”

As Sunghoon and Jisung went back and forth you laughed, settling into Chris’s embrace, feeling the warmth of home around you. You felt his smile without even looking and it made your heart leap. This, right here, was everything you’d hoped for and more. And as the teasing and laughter filled the room, you knew that no matter what, you were exactly where you were meant to be. With who you were meant to be with.

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[hearts4werka]

NNN day 11 | Books, Breezes and Broken Limbs

summary: one cool autumn afternoon, you’ve been reading your book in peace and minding your own business until your doorbell suddenly rings and you’re met with an unusual sigh, a zombie man holding his fallen arm. Will you help him out or freak out by the sight of the monster and slam the door in his face?

warnings: ANGST&FLUFF, (hot) zombies, sewing limbs together, detached limbs, scars, needles poking through skin & possibly more!

authors note: the links don’t work on my phone so I’ll paste them later on my computer bc for a few days they havent been working on my phone and it’s rlly ticking me off 😭 yall judge this if it’s angst or not bc idkk rlly, this is kinda rushed but luv yall sm and I hope yall like this idea as much I do.

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist | moodboard

A cool autumn afternoon could be noticed as the soft wind hit my revealed skin and littered goosebumps across it, my window was creaked open while I sat under a cozy blanket in front of a warm fireplace, the hot flames casting a warm orange glow across the room as a hardcover sat in my hands. My eyes scanning over the words written down on paper and engulfing me into an imaginary world you could just loose yourself in.

Faint music radiated from the record player placed in the room somewhere but my mind is too concentrated on the authentic world of the author, I don’t realize my doorbell has started ringing but as soon as I notice, my eyes rip away from the page, tossing the warm blanket over the headrest of my chair. My feet drift over the fuzzy carpets sprawled on the floor before I reach my front door, I grab ahold of the door handle and slowly open the door.

I’m met with an unusual sight, only portrayed differently in different genres of movies and books but never to be seen in the real world. It’s a tall man with a green tint to his skin, differently shaped scars and sew marks all across his skin as torn clothes adore his body, he seems to be holding his other arm as it looks like it had fallen off but he doesn’t look like he’s experiencing any pain. My mind goes straight to the conclusion he could be a zombie? They said there was only a possibility of the undead existing but I’m experiencing it first hand.

“How can I help you?” I greet him politely, not wanting for him to think that I take him as a freak or a monster that he is, he clearly needs help with his arm and I feel bad for him, no matter what species he is, I want to treat him like I treat everyone else. “Didn’t expect to see a zombie at ya’ doorstep today, hm?” Are the first words that leave his mouth, his voice seeming withered and tired but no ounce of pain, not even seeming to hide it. Maybe he is a zombie?

“Answering ya’ question though, I could use some help with my arm. Do ya’ got a sewing kit by any chance?” He calmly speaks and I nod my head positively, slightly admiring him before letting him walk inside. I’ve really never seen an actual form of creature like him outside of my fantasy world, I lead him into the living room where I was just earlier and settle him down on the couch as I walk into the kitchen to grab the sewing kit I keep in one of the higher cabinets.

I could feel a pair of eyes follow my moves as I reach into the higher cabinet and graze the tips of my fingers over it, finally grabbing onto the small box I bring it to the living room, gently placing it on the coffee table in-front of the couch as I settle down next to the man. “Why wouldn’t you go to the hospital with this? Will you be able to move it without attaching the nerves together?” I ask curiously, my brows slightly furrowing in question as he lines his detached arm with the place where it’s missing, “I don’t think they would take in a zombie, besides they would probably want to take me for some kind of tests or discovery shit.” He answered, glancing over at me as I scavenge the small box for any fitting needles with my back slightly bend.

“Okay, that seems reasonable. Do you have a favorite color?” I requested, turning my head to look at him and he looks away, pretending like he wasn’t looking. A giggle as a response to his horrible hiding, a knowing look spreading across my face, “Well, firstly whats your favorite color?” He shoots the question back at me, not really knowing what he’s attempting to do I decide to be nice and just reply than question him again. “Um, it’s pink, what about it? He nods and says the thing I’ve never would’ve expected, “Yeah, pink is my favorite color.”

Another soft giggle rumbles in my throat as I pick out a soft pink thread, holding it up for him to see. “This one?” “Yup, exactly that one.” I sit up and turn over to him, preparing the thread by threading it through the hole in the needles head. Tying everything I need to before going over and poking the needle into his skin, starting to sew his arm back on. “Does it hurt?” Glancing up to check if he can feel any pain and he shakes his head negatively, “Not at all, don’t worry ‘bout me” he reassures and I go back to sewing his arm back on.

After a few minutes passed and soft chatter and chuckles filled the air around us, I was done sewing his arm back on and moved away from him, putting some distance between us now. “There you go! Is it good now?” He replies with moving his arm around, seeing how the pink strings look on his green tinted skin he smiles and nods his head. “Thanks, appreciate the help. I should probably head out now, don’t wanna hold ya’ any longer.” He chuckles before pulling out and handing me a small piece of paper with some numbers wrote on it as well as a name scribbled down, I could make out the name ‘Christopher’ that was the one written down.

He stands up from his seat and I follow behind him, leading him over to the front door where I first saw him and we interacted, a feeling of familiarity washes over me as we say our goodbyes and he leave, my gaze dropping down at the paper he handed me and realize it’s a phone number which I guess belongs to him. I return back inside of my house but instead of indulging in my unfinished book I reminisce about the oddly attractive creature who’s arm I’ve sewn on today, never thinking it would happen to me and not realizing what it can bring along the way…

@hearts4werka | do not copy, repost nor plagiarize any of my work. You can be ‚inspired’ by my work but pls credit me and and ask for permission first!

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[cakerybakery]

Adam and Lucifer have been a sort of friends with benefits, thing, for a few months now. It had been a while since he’d come back as a sinner.

They were both trying to play it casual. Sneaking around cause it’s supposed to be casual and Lucifer didn’t want Charlie thinking it was a thing and getting excited only to be disappointed before (when) they stopped, cause it was casual so obviously they weren’t going to be forever.

Even though Lucifer was caught giving Adam a t-shirt as a gift, and they both lied and said it was Adam’s birthday. Even though he doesn’t have one.

They hung out on not dates. It wasn’t a big deal.

And when they have sleep overs, Lucifer just portals one of them back to their own room in the morning. Nice and easy

But that morning Adam looked rather cute asleep, and Lucifer figured he could just go down and maybe get some breakfast and bring it back up for Adam and him. Have a little breakfast in bed.

He grabbed his shirt and pyjama bottoms off the ground.

They’d stayed up late the night before. They fucked yeah, but also the season finally of their tv show was a two parter and so they had curled up in bed to cuddle as they watched it. He was a little groggy.

Lucifer wandered down to the kitchen yawning.

“Mornin’” Lucifer muttered as chipper as he could be given how tired he was.

“Uhh, morning, dad.” Charlie smiled but it was a little tight around the edges.

His own smile wavered as he wondered if everything was okay.

Lucifer got down a coffee mug and poured a cup. He’d need the caffeine. They had a not date that night.

The opera house was showcasing a collection of Tchaikovsky’s best work and Adam was excited to go. Heaven’s version of the music had gotten a little boring after a while, according to Adam, but the one in hell was a little more theatrical and in Adam’s words, “fucked a lot harder”.

Adam had had ways around the parental locks up in heaven meant to keep things more pg. It made his band rather popular for more than just having him in it. But he was enjoying that he could just see shows and things without needing to skirt rules that dumbed things down or made it nicer for souls.

Lucifer pulled down a second cup.

It was good that they did have some music tastes in common. Rock wasn’t strictly Lucifer’s genre of choice but he did like some of it that Adam introduced him to. And he recognized some pieces just having heard them and not realized.

Adam got so excited about things like music.

His eyes lit up and he had so much fun. It was good to see since he’d been so miserable when he first fell.

After a while they commiserated together over shared pains. One thing had turned into another as one glass of wine turned to another. Soon they’d kissed.

Weeks later they did it again.

Then again.

Then they went to the movies where they entwined their pinkies in the dark and leaned a little against each other. Afterwards they went back to Lucifer’s room. In the morning Lucifer opened a portal to Adam’s room so no one would see them.

“Uhh, dad?”

Lucifer startled. He’d forgotten the others were there. “Hmm? Yes, sweetie?”

Charlie tapped her nails nervously against her own mug. “You, well, you poured two cups of coffee.”

Shit.

Shit. Shit!

Fuck.

“Oh. I guess I spaced out.” He gave a hollow laugh to try and mask his mistake as a different sort of mistake. “Must be a two cup day, good thing I already have two.”

Lucifer tried to leave but he bumped into Alastor as he turned, barely keeping the coffee from spilling.

“Why, good morning, your majesty.” Alastor gave a mock bow of his head.

He rolled his eyes and almost pushed past Alastor, because like hell he was going to go around the fucker. You moved for the king, not the other way around. But Alastor spoke before he could keep going.

“How sweet of you.” Alastor might be all smiles but his eyes never agreed with his mouth. “Bringing Adam coffee in bed this morning? I assume you’re in your room today.”

Lucifer nearly dropped his mugs and his jaw. “Wha-“

“After all, you two didn’t stay in his room.” Alastor moved out of Lucifer’s way but Lucifer couldn’t take a step.

He clenched the mugs and there was a slight crack as Lucifer gripped too hard.

“I do appreciate it when you stay in your room. I can’t hear your activities through the wall I share with him when you both retire to your suite for the night.”

The mug dripped hot coffee over Lucifer’s hand through the cracks.

“Oh dear.” Alastor’s tone mocked. “Was it supposed to be a secret? I assumed you two were telling people. Seeing as you’re wearing the shirt you got him for his birthday.”

Lucifer looked down at the Duckysaurus shirt he’d picked up off the floor and his face lit up like a bonfire. It hung loose on him. There was no way he could try to claim that he bought his own, but he tried to stammer through an explanation he didn’t remember the details of anyway.

“And the two coffee mugs?” Alastor pressed.

“I-“ fuck!

Fuck!

Fuck!

FUCK!

What had he said? What was it? He closed his eyes, pressing them together. Trying to remember.

A hand covered his. He opened his eyes and Charlie was looking at him.

“Dad. Maybe we should talk in private.” She lead his hands to the counter to put down the broken mugs.

As she hooked her arm in his and as she dragged him away he could head Vaggie ask Alastor why he did that.

“Perhaps I wasn’t clear. I can hear them through the wall!”

The trip up to Charlie’s office was quiet. She didn’t look angry, but she didn’t look happy either.

“Sit.” She let him go and he sank into one of the overstuffed chairs in her office as she leaned against her desk in front of him.

It cut too close to home and reminded him of being scolded by the other angels back in heaven, and she hadn’t even said anything yet.

“Is what Alastor says true?”

He opened his mouth and shut it again. He flushed and looked away, covering his mouth to try and hide his embarrassment.

“So yes.” Charlie sighed. “I’ll have a talk with Alastor about outing other people’s business then.”

She gripped the edge of the desk hard and he winced as her nails dug into the wood.

“Char-“

“It’s none of my business. If you wanted me to know, you would have told me.”

“It’s not-“ he started. Lucifer rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at his rubber duck themed pyjama bottoms and bare hooves. He muttered more to himself than speaking to Charlie. “It’s not serious or anything.”

“You don’t have to-“ Charlie pushed herself away from the desk and moved to the window. “It’s not like you and mom are going to get back together. I’m just... I don’t know.” She wrapped her arms around herself, she look to the ground.

Lucifer got up from his seat, “Charlie.” He didn’t want to move. Fear twisted in his heart.

What if she reject his attempt to comfort her? Rejected him?

He took a step and reached for her.

She turned and hugged him tight.

Lucifer wrapped his arms around her. Burying his face in her shoulder.

“I just didn’t want to get you excited for something that wasn’t going to work out.” He pulled her closer as his face started to burn and his eyes started to water. “He’ll leave one day. And it’s better not to get attached.”

She squeezed back just as hard. “Oh Dad.” Charlie said sadly as she pulled back to look him in the eyes. “You love him, don’t you?”

“What?” He laughed. Lucifer wiped away an errant tear as his slide down his face. “No. That would be-“ He took her hands in his and looked away. “Stupid. Really stupid of me.”

Charlie pulled him back into a hug and squeezed him until he thought he was going to pop.

Lucifer hugged her back.

“Love is never stupid.” She said into his ear. “Come on. Tell me about Adam.”

He laughed but those stupid tears were back. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Anything.” She pulled him to the window seat and they cuddled. “I just want you to let me in a bit.”

Charlie rested her head on his. “You live here now, but you’re still a million miles away. You’re here.” She squeezed him, “but you’re not here.”

“I’m sorry.”

When did his little girl get so big? So observant?

“I don’t mean to be.”

“I know, dad.”

The lapsed into silence for a bit. Just enjoying each other’s company before Lucifer spoke.

“He’s nice.” What could he say? “He’s brash. And swears like a sailor in a storm. But he’s fun. And Adam can be thoughtful too. He doesn’t care if anyone knew about us, it was just me. He snuck around for me.”

They talked and Lucifer kept finding more things to say about Adam. Things that annoyed him and made Charlie laugh. “Vaggie does the exact same thing. Seeing them together. It’s funny, it’s like he’s her dad.”

“That stumpy walk when they’re mad!”

“Oh and how they both go, ‘babe’.” Charlie giggled.

Lucifer snorted a laughed. “Ohhh! The drill sergeant voice.”

“Listen up maggots!” Charlie tried to impersonate Vaggie.

“Yeah!” Lucifer was having a fit of laughter. “That’s totally them. I took Adam to a concert and some fucker tried to mug us. Adam had him doing push-ups. “Fifty more, maggot!” It was so hot.” He flushed realizing he just called Adam hot in front of Charlie.

She breezes past it though. “So you guys go on dates?”

“Not dates. But we hang out. Alone.” He put his on his knees and kept wiggling his hooves together. “Like going to the movies. Concerts. We get dinner.”

“Those sound like dates.”

Maybe they were.

“He’s not staying. Adam’s trying to get back to heaven. We can’t be together.”

“But you want him to stay.”

Lucifer nodded.

Charlie’s fingers brushed through his bed head. He could feel her twisting small strands together and braiding little pieces of his hair. Lucifer let her play with his hair in the silence.

“Have you asked him to?”

“He hasn’t.” Adam spoke up from the doorway.

Lucifer jolted as he was startled.

Adam was shirtless and just in the sweat pants he wore as pyjamas. His chest was hairy and his stomach chubby, it was hard not to just sink into the harsh man’s soft body.

“Adam-“ Lucifer went to get up but Adam gestured for him to stay and Adam came to him.

He took a seat on the other side of Lucifer. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

A hand took Lucifer’s.

“I talked to heaven. Told Sera I was going to keep working on my shit, but that I wanted to stay down here.”

“You did?” He asked hesitantly.

Adam nodded. “Actually. Charlie got me in touch with a therapist and I’ve been going once a week to talk about crap that wouldn’t be fair to lay on my kind of boyfriend’s kid to help sort out. Shit about Eden and Eve. Crap about falling and shit from heaven.”

Pulling the hand to his lips, Adam kissed it. “I figured if I wanted this to work I should probably work on the shit that drove Lilith and Eve away.”

“If-“ Lucifer couldn’t take his eyes off their hands. “If I asked you to stay…”

“Are you asking?”

He bit his lip, the fear of rejection trying to harden his heart. Lucifer nodded.

“I’d love to stay.”

“Excellent to hear.” Alastor interrupted the tender moment. “Can I assume you’ll be moving into Lucifer’s room? Or better yet, his house. I’ll help you pack.”

Adam smiled even as Lucifer swore and Charlie gave a sharp, “Alastor!”

“Oh no, Al. My dear grandchild. I’d say it’s much too soon to move in together. But I think we’re likely to stay over with each other much more often.”

They both fake laughed and Alastor turned to Charlie. “I’d like to change rooms.”

-

This was supposed to be a funny bit about a neat t-shirt I saw that said duckysaurus and had a dino rubber duck on it.

[azlovesem]

Who are you. How did you get out of prison in the first place im wondering?

they let me out. People like me Emma. They tend to turn a blind eye to the bad things i do.

why? Because theres not enough evidence to convict of anything. Orbthe witnesses died mysteriously. The one police officer said you know every killer in this city personally. I dont associate with that type of person in this city. Or any city. I read about you people or see you in movies or on tv. I dont sleep with you. I had no idea your problems were this big and bad.

too late there. Ha ha ha.

You think everythings funny i get that.

No i dont. I just have to laugh. And yeah i know people but fo you thnk id really be hrre if i fid yhe things people i sell drugs to do in this town? Who do you yhonk buys the drugs. Nit kids not lil girks not the people here i have the good dtudff i deal with hardened criminals. I am not one myself. I have had yo defend myself and my friends once or teice thats it.

what and someone died. And your a good drug dealer. What you just said makes it eorse. You know the difference between right and wrong yiu just font give a fuck for money. Maybe you dont sell to anyone here maybe you do from what i heard.

hardened criminals.

i feel bad for you. Worse than i do for those hardened criminals. A lot if yhrm vome from horrible backgrounds. Youre the eorse person who is organized with otber lazy spoiked rich kids out in south eindsor who youve corrupted into growing and hiding and selling stugs for you everywhere. Where do uou yhink those drugs go after you sell large smounts of them yo those poor people? To tye people im trying to help. Oh my God im do stupid. I have horrible taste in nen its yhe only real oroblem i have. I asked other people. Youre dudlected of cold blooded murder you are an expert car thief and break and enter artist. Youre violent. Youre sn armed robber. An gun smuggler with vonnections in Michigan God what else font i know?

no secmxusl charges. No reallybweird shit or eoman abuse or pimping. And im ex all these things by the way if its even true. Never been proved.

youre sn asshole.

yeah but i maje tou laugh and cum and im funny.

so what thats a two week affair. Now i see you are the reason i do this and that is not good. Get out of ky office. I dont want you comng near ne. Yiull see Jasper now concrrning your file. Hes gonna love you.

not like you do though.

i dont live you infuckn hate you.

thats ehat they all say. But ya dont. Ya hate life.

emma stone

[valkyriephoenix98]

Just a mad idea(when it comes to Sonic 3)

I know a lot of people are wondering if there will be any references to Either John wick, Speed or the matrix...

But here's a clever idea..

What if they reference the movie

Point Break.

Hear me out!

For those who know..you'll get where I'm coming from..those who are unsure but have heard of it

There's a bit where Keanu's character is chasing down this one guy and he was going to make the shot..but hesitants because he knows the guy and once the guy escapes, Keanu's character gets frustrated and starts to fire his gun up at the air going

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

(You've probably seen it being mentioned in Hot Fuzz)

Now here's an interesting idea

What if they reference that in a way...maybe a little bit differently but you can see it in a way..(to see if they're clever enough to notice it)

Maybe a while after Sonic tried to talk to Shadow and try to reason with him (but you know Shadow being too hellbent)

But once Sonic and the others were going to escape to the "next level"

Shadow would see them and would try to take a shot at them all so they don't..but the second Sonic looks back like he's sensing that something is off and would stay behind for a moment until his friends go in the portal...(think of the first movie at the beginning in a way)

Shadow would charge up his energy ready to fire a Chaos spear and catch him off guard by hitting Sonic with it

But before he could...Shadow felt the urge...to hold back his fire..because the fact that Sonic stayed behind for a moment..arms ready like he was ready to go down fighting if it means to protect knuckles,tails..or even Maddie and Tom..That made Shadow hesitant...giving him certain memories that gave him deja vu.

Shadow wants to take him down right there and now...because he did said perviously

"We are Not the Same, I am Nothing like you"

But is that entirely true?

But once Sonic gets called to hurry in..sonic shakes his head and goes in before seeing Shadow in the dark..looking at him before the portal closes as he continues forward..

Leaving Shadow...on His own....he stood there..confused on WHY he didn't do it,

WHY did he stop himself,

That confusion would then become fustration and he would fire his energy and destroy the nearest thing..like a rock or a tree or even a abandoned vehicle or a nearby lake (I dunno) and yell out of anger over the fact that he couldn't actually do it...not after seeing Sonic like that... being protective and willing to put himself at risk in order to protect his friends and family..

Almost like him..

But hey, that is just my theory..what do you think?

[binkywinky]

I liked seeing the realism of the awkwardness between Carol and Monica and just how generally awkward Carol would be after years alone in space but I miss the cocky know-it-all version of Captain Marvel we got in the first movie. She was just so competent and cool and this movie felt a little tepid in that regard. Also wanted much more in terms of a conversation between Monica and her especially considering the ending. There should’ve been some kind of deep emotional exchange and we just didn’t get that. What do you think?

Hmm. Honestly, my first thought is that it sounds like maybe you wanted a different movie, but let me take a crack at this.

I'll address the version of Captain Marvel part first.

In CM, Carol was cocky because she was a young soldier as part of an elite team that only cared about the Kree. She had cool powers and never saw her actions as having any consequences because she was told the Kree were always in the right and she was a hero. She also had no memories or real emotional attachments to anyone, so there was no one depending on her or waiting on her back home. She could be as brash and know-it-all as she liked.

In The Marvels, she's almost 70. She has some of her memories back. She has people she cares about and who care about her - and who have expectations of her. She's lost one of the most important people in her life. She has thousands of planets of people who look to her to help them. And she has seen firsthand that being cocky and a know-it-all can have catastrophic consequences that spiral out of your control.

It wouldn't make a lick of sense for her to have the same attitude in The Marvels as she did in CM unless the plot and trajectory of her character was completely different. CM was about owning her power and reclaiming herself, which leans itself towards showcasing the cocky side of her. The Marvels is about family, reconnection, and atonement - which does not really call for that cocky aspect of her personality to be at the forefront. She still had moments of being cocky and certainly competent (like while fighting), but it was tempered by experience, as it should be. So while it may not be as exciting, I think it was better for her as a character because we actually got to see more sides of Carol and not just Captain Marvel. And personally, I find that a lot more interesting than the cocky, know-it-all schtick. We've seen that with countless characters in the MCU - I'm kind of over it. It's lazy IMO.

Now as far as the stuff with Monica, I stand by my statement that their deeper conversation would naturally have come after they finished the mission with Dar-Benn. They had to reach a point with each other where they're willing to have that conversation first, and that wasn't earned until the end. It's just unfortunate that Monica got trapped on the other side, so we can't see that full talk yet.

But you bring up an interesting point, and I really want to know, what exactly did you want or expect to happen? And I'm asking to take into account the actual situation they were in and what makes sense for the characters, not the fanfiction of what we're all guilty of imagining playing out. Because, for example, I've seen people say Monica should've fought Carol or screamed at her, and that makes zero sense because that's not in Monica's character. I also don't know what Monica would yell at her about after being told point blank, "I wanted to come home, but I inadvertently doomed a whole planet of people to die, and didn't feel like I deserved to be with family until I fixed it." Like what is Monica supposed to say to that? "I don't care - you still should've visited." That's silly.

So genuinely - and this is open to anyone - what would you have preferred to happen that still makes sense within the context of the movie and with the characters?

[fumifooms]

Makima, devils and self-fulfillment

Dumping some Makima and CSM thoughts after a part 1 binge bc I think about her forever and ever. I’m sure I’m forgetting some devil lore, feel free to correct what i get wrong/what’s been confirmed. On the table of contents there’s why & how Makima got fixated on Chainsaw, her revealing liking for the country mouse and discussion of her nature & emotions & desires. Was the scorpion doomed to be a scorpion?

The most of this post was thought of during a conversation with @saccharineomens and I don’t think it makes sense to jump into the spiral it sent me on without first laying down the interesting groundwork theorizing she did:

"Thinking about how makima herself wants to be deified. I wonder whether she recognizes the difference between Love As Worship and the love that Aki, Power, and Denji had. She says she wants to help humanity by having Chainsawman eat the “bad” devils, but why does she want to help humans? Because she was ordered to by the Prime Minister? No, her drive seems much more personal than that, it seems like she teamed up with the PM for contractual reasons. (In the most recent chapters we see governmental members wanting certain devils to be eaten, too. What was Makima’s relationship with them? She’s too independent to just follow THEIR orders, she’s Control.)

So is she wanting to better humanity for the accolades, or out of the goodness of her heart? She sees the big picture. She sees any small sacrifice as worth it for the end result, and she’s ruthless. Perhaps she thinks that a more sedate human race would be easier to control? But Makima doesn’t loathe humanity. She never acts like she sees all humans as lesser. She loves humanity’s creations, like good food and movies. She just wants Good Things all the time

She says she prefers the country mouse BUT adds a story where she helps exterminate country mice like vermin. She likes the simplicity yet rejects the idea of being simple. Makima the complex individual you are"

~

The story itself seems to prefr the country mouse. Well- it strikes a balance, shows that a risk to live good & fully can be very worth it, but still that stability over ambition is preferable, proning having a simple happy life over fame, a simple job instead of a dangerous one, etc etc. And I do find Makima’s answer on this so so interesting, she prefers the country mouse, but this preference isn’t out of affection or sympathy but because of how relaxing it feels to exterminate them when they cause problems.

Order satisfies her. Her order satisfies her. She likes the action of rooting out disorder. Maybe this is the devil part, like how Power especially wants blood and drinking it, I feel there’s an itch to every devil, and for Makima it’s a very rigid world view/morality/standards & making things follow her rules and submit to her order.

And maybe this is why she’s attached to humans too, why she felt it was worth it to stick with the government- because devils are chaotic by nature (it’s a whole plot point that hell is essentially a free-for-all battleground for example), meanwhile humans are the species that universally rule Earth with systems they invented and instilled. They made then enforced rules, complex and intricate webs of them. She feels alienated amongst devils but she understands the humans’ need for an orderly organised society, and now she wants to be part of it. Control and conquest require social dynamics after all, requires civilizations or groups. War is chaotic while peace is, well, peaceful— Makima resents her sisters for being death, famine and war, things that throw the world in such chaos. She wants a world of perfect order, no matter how much collateral damage there will be if the end result is control.

This is even more interesting if you consider that yes, Makima is untouchable of her own design, she deifies herself with her omnipresent amount of control and the sway over others that she seeks and encourages— There is this urge to dehumanize her for it, that yes, she is the devil of control and that means she was never going to be any different, have any more feeling be any less uncanny. And I love part 2 so much for this, because it shows us the war devil and the famine devil and we see how frankly uncharismatic with poor self-discipline they are, Nayuta too, and it helps us realize just how much Makima’s success was self-made.

She admires Chainsaw Devil, the Hero of Hell, because he had his own code and his own rules and he made Hell, the chaos pit, submit to them unfailingly. Wherever he goes he decides what he does and what happens to the people he encounters but does so consistently, he has his mechanism and his rules that he always obeys, and he fulfills them every time. It’s still a mystery the why of Chainsaw Devil’s behavior back then and how it works exactly, maybe Pochita left hell because he was tired of these rules he lived by like chains, but still, he was a servant to his code. Makima would have been glad being killed and eaten by Chainsaw Devil because it’d have been becoming part of his design, his conquest, his domination, she’d have been part of that —his— order. Through her death she would be shaping his world and be part of a conqueror’s making history. Like how she appreciates the country mice that die for the sake of order. Like how sacrifices must be made to herself, like listing the name of every person whose life was lost to the Gun Devil— All for the ~greater good~, for her vision for the world. Conquest always thinks its reasons are justified.

And she does mention with the country mice thing that she goes out to a friend’s farm every year! She has a human friend?? That she visits yearly and she genuinely likes it?? Ultimately she lives a busy city life because of her goal and drive and her urge & satisfaction with overseeing shaping the world herself, but part of her, like so many characters including Angel and Aki and Reze, wishes she could live a slow peaceful country life. Moviegoing and dogs and mice in a farm- Wouldn’t it be so much simpler if Makima could find fulfillment and happiness in being a farmer, in keeping control of her own farm, getting satisfaction from exterminating vermin and expertly getting everything right, the right crops grown at the right time on the right soil? Here, too, in a way it’s trying to have full control of an ecosystem, but her goals would be easier to achieve and better, without ceaseless sacrifice or much pressure. But Makima wants grandiosity and her goal does matter to her on a fundamental and moral level, she does think she knows what’s best for the world, and with the power to change it why wouldn’t she strive to? Visiting the farm is just a break, just something she does in fall to help out and just in time to see the vermin extermination. It calms her, then it’s back to actual work.

In capitalism, even the one at the very top of the ladder is ultimately alienated from others and often unsatisfied by their lifestyle, always wanting more and more power because surely that’s the extra edge they must be missing to be content— like how Makima thinks she wants to dominate Chainsaw Devil instead of being his equal. And she says it herself too, she likes humans the way humans like dogs…….. And she keeps so many dogs :( Makima prefers the country mice because they’re calming to root out, maybe because she usually mainly deals with city mice. It’s very easy to equate humans to the mice in this allegory because it’s pretty direct and she’s already likened humans to lesser animals compared to her. She’s self-isolating by design for her design but she still craves relationships and contentment, and the dogs are the embodiment or her want for bonds and occasional simplicity because there is no possible ulterior motive, no way they tie back into her wider plan. They’re her personal life— something that feels so alien when speaking about Makima. Personality and individuality and likes and preferences and friends they visit every year. She likes how easily she can train a dog and how they become putty in her hands, at her beck and call, how much they love her and how much she enjoys their love. How simple and straightforward and easy it is. She keeps them because she likes being loved by them and loving them, and she’s gotten and raised so many. A conqueror always wants more and more and more, is never satisfied.

Devils and agency

Like Power the blood devil wanting blood and having a fixation on drinking it like with Denji’s, or how it was shocking that the violence devil was pretty tame and nice and how he himself theorized it was because he was a fiend and possessing a human body… There’s something to be said about nature vs nurture with the devils. The way they reincarnate and always embody their fear makes it seem categorically like nature, that they always always end up fulfilling the role they were named after and born to fill… Outside influence they’re helpless but to conform with. Like the humans accepting their spot in the social ladder and the shittiness of their living conditions and job under capitalism. Makima craved being equals with someone despite being the control/conquest devil, Angel Devil despite claiming to be a devil who likes to see humans dying was haunted by their deaths and wanted to avoid ones like Aki’s. The Ghost Devil being ironically haunted by Himeno, seemingly helping Aki in her memory out of… Lasting affection? Or maybe it was less about being haunted itself and more about it recognizing how Himeno haunted Aki, and acknowledging that, with the memento, paying her respect to the ghost of her. It’s Angel Devil’s devil nature that makes him like human suffering, so then is it his angel nature too to still care about their deaths? Is there truth to this or is that just personality, just our confirmation bias haunting every part of their identity like it might in their own view of themselves too? We do know different reincarnations of devils do have different personalities after all.

Yoru, war devil, is the most interesting one when talking about the nature vs nurture debate with devils. There is how through her we see the perhaps the most the consequences of a devil stopping being feared— we see a horseman for a concept as universal and horrifying as war be reduced to some bird who needs a contract with a human to have any power even just on the situation when meeting Asa. And through the story we get to know her better, and it becomes clear that her goal is fueled in good part by simply wanting to be remembered and respected through fear. Liked, validated, seen a powerful. But what is more isolating than war? Or control? We also see Nayuta accepting others’ house rules. If part 1 shows perhaps the futility of running away from the truth, with Denji’s memory, with escapist coping mechanisms, with passivity and denial under a corrupt system and with abusive relationships- running away from your own feelings and from the reality of things and from all that you are, more complex than simply human or devil or both or neither— part 2 builds upon the theme of cult of personalities, the chainsaw church, etc. The apocalypse is coming, but this celebrity superhero might save us all, or doom us all uh, dunno. The hero of hell reliving the cycle of pressure from responsibilities and expectations, maybe the part will end with Denji running away like Pochita did~

But yes, on the reverse, I think Famine is a very interesting example of how a devil’s namesake may be more innate than coerced by circumstances. One would think that a famine devil would only like inflicting famine upon others, not being famished itself, but Famine has a bottomless stomach that can never, ever be satisfied, sated. I struggle to find a psychological explanation for this, except that maybe instead of her being hungry it’s her feeling empty when she’s not eating, tasting and having that high sensory experience that releases serotonin in humans, sort of like drugs? But I do take this as a step towards the compulsion theory overall, feels like a reach in the consistency otherwise. And compulsion does not mean it’s something that they like nor that it’s something that they fight against, pretty neutral, just a nature that nudges you towards one path. Maybe it’s even just their go-to for entertainment. Maybe it’s the only thing that makes them feel right and whole. But still the debate remains, what is it, a compulsion or an urge or an itch or an active desire or a conscious chosen want? Does it change anything in practice?

And because of all of this earlier, devils being self-fulfilling prophecies with their role is not in unsignificant part nurture, because doing their atrocities is how they stay remembered— feared, powerful, known— hell and devils are a very isolating place and breed after all, and we do see devils can want companionship. Existentially, it’s their purpose and how they justify their place in the world, in the terrifyingly vast and unknowable cosmos.

We still know so little of what makes Chainsaw Devil so special, why his carnage is so self-controlled. Despite a chainsaw maybe being possibly one of the most "nature" thing you can be— a tool to cut things, a human tool that can be helpful for many things, something to be wielding by another at their judgement on what they decide, but mainly something to cut, a tool suited for carnage, to hurt and to destroy. A blade with a toothed chain, spinning around and around and around endlessly on the same road at the same pace. Such a…. Innately circular concept. And yet the Chainsaw Devil is his own, not driven by an urge or by chaos but his very own brand of order, his own unique assigned purpose, a "if you call i’ll come running to help" policy equalizing everyone. He chooses to withhold his destruction and interference otherwise, and then he chooses to be used. If it’s a choice, of course.

Maybe this is what inspired Makima so much, that Chainsaw Devil could decide what to make of himself despite expectations or innate role. Because even Hell he decided & managed to subjugate under his will and whim, with a precise vision and process. When Chainsaw Devil acts like Denji or is defeated, Makima clicks her tongue and loses her admiration and respect. Makima admired and liked Chainsaw Devil, but only as long as he matched her great image of him in her mind, as long as he followed he rules for what she thinks he should be like. She admired him for his unrivaled self-made success, but once he stepped out of that to truly embody self-fulfillment and agency, disappearing from hell to live on his own road at the beat of his own drum… Well. Surely that was a mistake she has to correct. However their second battle ends, the better conqueror will have prevailed and she’s happy about that, all in the spirit of domination and subjugation.

Imo Makima’s biggest tool, similarly capitalism’s most helpful effect for its own purposes, is complacency. Resignation and passivity helps uphold the system and go along the flow of the will of the people in power. Aki and Reze go along with orders even when knowing their job is trash, etc. In Angel Devil especially we see him go along with the flow uncaring about anyhing, and we discover it was in part due to Makima taking away memories that motivated him. If every devil decides this is just how things are and how things should be that’s what they’ll continue to be and do mindlessly, not pursuing a better life like Chainsaw Devil and Denj and not seeking to change the world like Makima. I think even Makima veils herself to a lot of things, she doesn’t like to think deeply about some things, like her desire for connection, or how making bad movies disappear is strenuous and unsustainable and requiring sacrifices at best— how her judgement is as subjective as anyone else. How liking the country mouse and her friend back at the farm and her dogs could be not devoid of sentimality. Wanting bad movies erased is her one biggest show of selfishness, of pettiness and individuality, it’s about her tastes, simple as. About how she can have tastes, and cry seeing a scene of people hug, and want things that aren’t logical, her ideology and mind twisted into a pretzel to avoid acknowledging that she doesn’t live and breathe purely for the mission she’s made a single-minded robot out of herself to accomplish. Nayuta is assertive and selfish and loud, Makima is manipulative and strategically both for her goals and for coping hollow.

Everything in her plans and goals she says is for the greater good, necessary evil, manufactured happiness the way she’ll have decided for people— and that’s the thing isn’t it, like with War, it’s the crack that shows it was all truly about herself after all. Her self-made deification still had the flaw that a self made it. Makima is not omniscient, and it’s not Chainsaw Devil the not-so-fellow-kindred-soul conqueror who gets the best of her, but a city mouse, a dog, someone she would have never thought to respect, Denji.

[nostalgia-tblr]

today i spent SEVERAL minutes contemplating the difference between "sympathetic villain" and "charismatic villain" and whether fandom as a whole confuses these categories sometimes

[fionnaskyborn]

current mood:

[kansasjustgotgayer]

Can we have someone other than lin manuel miranda writing songs for disney now? Theres a lot i did not like in encanto.

[undyinglantern]

logically I don’t even think I’m doing horribly (the guy training me told the manager I was doing “pretty well” about handling a “mini-rush”) but mentally my mind keeps telling me oh he’s just lying because we keep getting out breaks at the same time and since I’m practically tailing him of course he’s say that to be nice during the only opportunity to speak to the manager. Only since I’m around and can listen in is he saying something nice.

[chelseeebe]

just a taste

18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.

a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here. 

“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?” 

“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking. 

“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.” 

“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.

“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.

this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.

“now?” 

she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.” 

eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.” 

“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched. 

she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room. 

he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it. 

-

eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message. 

“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something. 

he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much. 

you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave. 

two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now. 

not if you were sleeping in his bed. 

it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it. 

“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done. 

who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly. 

“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process. 

“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips. 

“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.” 

his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze. 

'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation. 

-

when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie. 

eddie usually hated movie nights in the house. 

jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre. 

leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered. 

tonight it’s different, you get to pick. 

and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it. 

you land on edward scissorhands. 

not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble. 

in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.

at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath. 

he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.

robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way. 

“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary. 

you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on. 

he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you. 

unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone. 

-

living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive. 

it’s torturous. 

testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding. 

so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.

of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night. 

his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know. 

though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land. 

now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act. 

eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core. 

good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour. 

tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case. 

gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him. 

reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief. 

oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.

“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips. 

eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red. 

“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears. 

your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt. 

you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand. 

“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?” 

eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was. 

“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up. 

“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?” 

there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off. 

“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away. 

you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek. 

eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window. 

“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?” 

he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started. 

“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out. 

you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please. 

-

at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him. 

you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article. 

“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,” 

he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making. 

“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did. 

“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across. 

if only she knew. 

eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.  

he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria. 

cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now. 

everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties. 

-

eddie can’t take it anymore. 

he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer. 

but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure. 

the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport. 

he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women. 

your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand. 

“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down. 

robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful. 

thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose 

he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones. 

how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?

“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much. 

“you want some help with that?” 

eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion. 

it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs. 

“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager. 

he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame. 

your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?

this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric. 

eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.

the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house. 

the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin. 

when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking. 

your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears. 

no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was. 

“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch. 

his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere. 

you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house. 

eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute. 

it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life. 

“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.

you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable

“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.

"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.

“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.

“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.

“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.  

“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.

[nicholasgoodgirl]

that was mean- nicholas

summary: nicholas was having a bad week and gave you the silent treatment.

warning: argument, crying, happy ending

a/n: i couldn't stop thinking abt this no joke. so ofc i had to write it out

from late at night till he left early this morning for work nicholas has been either quiet rude or both.

we haven't spoken to eachother or not even silents acts of love. nothing.

he cut his alarm clock off and i tried to give him a hug before he got out the bed and he pushed me off of him "not right now" he grumbled and got out of bed

when he left for work i said 'bye' to maybe break the silence shared between us, but i got no response. it was starting to get lonely. i missed my bestfriend that was also my boyfriend

i had nobody to mess with or someone to talk to about my day.

to stop these lingering thoughts i go back to bed to maybe get my mind off of things.

--

i wake up around 8 am which was later than the time i usally woke up around, but today was sorta a lazy day.

it was gloomy not much sun was shining, it rained a little here and there. it was more of a slow day for me so the extra rest was very much needed

i text my boyfriend forgetting about the whole silent treatment ordeal.

me: how's your day going so far?? :)

and to no suprise i was left on delivered and soon left on seen. i messaged him periodically throught the day; hoping that maybe he would reply

it was almost time for dinner which normally nicholas cooks cause he's just better at it, but i didn't know when he was coming home or if he would even do it, so i look up some quick easy recipes and nothing struck my fancy but the pizza recipe. cause how hard could it really be?

i put a packet of yeast into my bowl along with some flour, water, oil, and salt. i let that sit for 30 minutes then im back to cooking again.

spreading flour onto the counter and placing the dough onto it; kneading it into a circle shape. this was harder than i thought

i look around for the marinara sauce and i put it into a different bowl and add a few light seasonings.

i paste that onto the dough, then i sprinkle some alot of cheese onto the pizza and my additional toppings bell peppers, spinach, and mushrooms.

i was so proud of myself especially sense i wasnt the cook, out of me and nicholas. i was really excited for him to try what i made but again i highly doubt he would even eat the food.

i put the pizza away into the oven completely forgetting to set a timer and put on a movie while i wait.

--

a smell of burning was the first thing that woke me up. "shit shit shit" i repeat totally freaking out remembering i left the pizza in the oven.

i get a rag and ineffectivley wave smoke out the air. when i open the oven it smelled horrible. i was coughing from all the smoke that had entered my lungs.

i take the burning pizza out and throw it into the sink, and hose it down with the water.

thats when i hear the front door open and mentally face palm. "what's that smell?" he asks "i kinda burnt a pizza that i tried to make"

"of course you did" he mutters sounding unimpressed. "and the fuck you mean 'kinda' you obviously did burn a damn pizza" he gestures to the chunk of charcoal burnt pizza

"it's not like i did it on purposes or something if thats what you think" my tone sounding a bit confronting.

"It's smells fucking horrible so open a damn window first off" he took a step closer raising his voice.

"you don't pay for shit so i don't understand why you almost had this place in flames secondly. then you also wanna blow up my phone while im working for crying out loud what do you want from me!" he yelled directly in my face

and im sure he knows by now i hate being yelled at. it's something my parents did and overall doesn't solve anything

i just take it, i didn't wanna fight so i go over to the nearest window and crack it open so the smoke clears.

my eyes watered from all the harsh words he could dish out but not the equal amount of attention "well.. you are- when i was.. ugh s'not my fault" i couldn't get a full sentence out. i felt so belittled in this moment

"im going to bed i don't have time for your stupid ass shit" those words hurt more than he thinks.

he had the most patience for me, always making time for us and now he doesnt.

"that's so mean.. you're being so mean" i wipe some tears that had fallen. i turned away from him silently crying.

the peices of my hair stuck to my tear-soaked cheeks. "wait- I'm sorry please don't cry" nicholas' voice was filled with regret.

i lazily push him away from me but he doesn't budge. his arms wrap around me bringing me into his familiar embrace. "I'm so sorry for being an asshole. I've been having a long shitty week and i know thats not an excuse so you don't even have to forgive me."

"you're everything to me. i swear i didn't mean it." he adds

the unforgettable cruel words he'd said to me earlier shoved ontop of his sweet loving words made me cry more.

i let him hold my trembling body as sobs tore through my chest, each inhale was ragged and uneven.

my hands clutched the material of his shirt "im so sorry sweetheart i never wanna make you cry" he explains in such a low voice, giving my hair strokes in attempt to calm me.

my face still burried into his neck tears now starting to dry away, and my breathing starting to even out. he carried me over to the couch and placed me in his lap

i was drained from all the crying, the tense feeling in my body beginning to melt away when i really started to feel nicholas' touch. my eyes drooped again this time staying shut for longer.

i was too tired to resist the sleep that had tooken over. and being cradled in his arms didn't help.

"I'll order pizza for the both of us alright?" he took me off of his lap and placed me on our couch. then lays one of our throw blankets ontop of me. "can we talk in the mornin'?" is the last thing i remember asking before dozing off.

a/n: can yall tell idk how to make pizza

[yuvany]

# HYPNOTIC ''

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 getting a whiff off your perfume.

OT7 enhypen x female reader ֶָ֢ WC: ~ 100 / character GENRE / WARNING(S) :: fluff + slightly suggestive + skinship + est relationship + possibly a bit ooc + not proofread!

( reblogs + feedback always appreciated !! )

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

immediately spots the new scent on you. You and him were cuddling on the couch while watching a movie, and he inched himself closer to you slowly. "Baby, did you spray a new perfume today?" He asks, in which you reply, "Yeah, do you like it?" Heeseung didn't answer right away, instead, his nose found your neck and breathed in your scent. The tip of his nose brushed against your nape a couple of times, and his warm breath tickled the sensitive skin of your neck ever so slightly. "So?" You whispered with a hint of uncertainty. "It's lovely." He replies at last, his face now buried in your shoulder.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆

is a perfume enthusiast for sure. Asks what perfume it is, and throws in his own guess. Most of the times, he guesses correct, but only if the perfume you're wearing is trending. You also ask him what he thinks often. "Jjongie, smell this, please." You request with puppy eyes, and why would he reject you? You lift your wrist up to his level and he sniffs it a couple of times before nodding his head. "Might just be my favourite, princess." He says with a smirk.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍

"You smell nice." He just blurts it out, and it takes you a while to fully comprehend what he meant. "Don't I smell nice on other days as well?" You tease with a smile, obviously knowing that he refers to the change of perfume you're wearing. "Of course you do! This smell is just different than before." His hand holds yours, and he lifts it up to his nose to smell your wrist. Jake sniffs it for a while, a bit longer than expected, which causes you to arch an eyebrow. "I really like this one, babe." He comments at last, and kisses your hand before pulling you into a strong hug.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

lets the smell familiarise in his nose before asking, "Is that the perfume I bought for you?" You nod, and smell your wrist for confirmation. "I really like the smell." You say, looking up at him. "I do too, it reminded me of you, you know?" Sunghoon says, kissing your forehead. You lean into his touch, and engulf him in a long hug where he swings you from from side to side. The two of you enjoy this moment of intimacy and closeness. The scent adding a sweet and comfortable aroma to the moment. "Maybe I should wear this more often" you laugh, patting his head that found itself by your nape.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎

hums in delight when you walk past him, and the scent lingers in the air for a while. You turn around with a questioning look painting your features. "I just mean that you smell wonderful!" He said panickingly in case you got the wrong idea of his reaction. "Really? I can't really smell myself right now." You chuckled, and walked up to him, forgetting what you actually wanted to do prior. "Well, there's no need to worry. Even if you smelled bad, I wouldn't worry." Sunoo said, taking your hand in his. "What, why?" You asked, shocked. "Because I wouldn't have to worry about other people trying to pursue you."

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍๋

has a sensitive nose, but when he breaths in the faint smell of your new perfume, he perks an eyebrow. "Is that you who smells so nice?" He asks, stepping closer to you. "Yeah, why, is it too strong, babe?" You ask worryingly. "No, no, it's just right." Jungwon wraps his arms around your waist, and pulls you closer to him. "I was scared for a second, thought it was too strong for you, and, so I switched to oil perfumes." You explain followed with a soft giggle. He cracks a sweet smile for you, and presses a soft kiss to your cheek sweetly. "It smells sweet, just like you."

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

you had asked for his opinion on it, and risen your wrist to make it easier for him to smell it. Personally, you liked it a lot, so you really hoped he did too. Halfway up, he softly took your hand, and held you by the wrist, letting the perfume waft his way. Riki's eyes shifted from yours to the side of your head, and moved closer to smell it better. "Sorry baby, this doesn't really fit you." He says, and you are shook. "Huh?" You mumble, and he chuckles. "You're so cute. I was just kidding. It smells amazing, babe." He said with a joking tone, and nudged your with his hip.

Reminder to not spam like since it can shadow ban me😖

[starskq]

I STILL HATE YOU / J.W

Pairing ◊ bratty!fem!reader x brattamer!wooyoung (ft. '99 line)

Genre ◊ SMUT, angst, ennemies to ???

Warnings ◊ SMUT (MINORS DNI), reader is a brat, harddom!wooyoung, they hate each other, fingering, rough, degradation, petnames (good girl, sweetheart...), oral (fem receiving), lots of angst

Word count ◊ 4,6k

Summary ◊ : You and Wooyoung hated each other, but your friends thought it would be a good idea to lock wooyoung's room to "sort things out"

a/n: just a sucker for dom Wooyoung 😵‍💫 enjoy! (not proofread)

You were part of this tight-knit friend group with Wooyoung, Yunho, San, Mingi, and Yeosang. Usually, you would have considered yourself lucky to be surrounded by such a cool bunch of people, but there was one glaring exception: Wooyoung. From the moment you met, you and Wooyoung clashed like fire and ice. You were both cocky, always trying to outdo each other with snarky comments and sarcastic remarks.

It wasn’t even like you had any reason to hate each other; it just happened. Maybe it was how Wooyoung always seemed so smug, with that infuriating smirk plastered on his face. Or maybe it was how he would always find some way to one-up you, no matter what. Either way, the tension between you two was almost palpable, and it was clear to everyone around.

The others in the group seemed to take it in stride. Yunho and San would roll their eyes and laugh it off, while Mingi would try to play peacemaker, often unsuccessfully. Yeosang, on the other hand, seemed to find your constant bickering somewhat amusing, though he rarely got involved. Despite the tension, the group managed to stick together, probably because your mutual animosity oddly balanced the dynamic.

One Friday night, you were all hanging out at their place, lounging on his beat-up couch, debating over what movie to watch. Wooyoung, as usual, had a different opinion from you. He wanted to watch some action flick while you were in the mood for a horror movie. The debate quickly turned into a full-blown argument, with you and Wooyoung standing face-to-face, jabbing at each other with pointed insults, as usual.

“Why don’t you just admit your taste in movies sucks?” Wooyoung sneered, crossing his arms.

“Oh please, like you even understand what makes a good movie,” you shot back, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

Yunho sighed loudly, standing between you two. “Alright, can we just decide already? It’s just a movie.”

San laughed, shaking his head. “You two are hopeless. Can’t even pick a movie without turning it into World War Three.”

The argument over which movie to watch was reaching a boiling point, and everyone in the room could sense it. You and Wooyoung were standing toe-to-toe, practically shouting over each other.

“I’m telling you, action movies are way more entertaining,” Wooyoung argued, his voice filled with exasperation.

“And I’m telling you, horror movies have way better plots,” you shot back, not willing to back down.

Yunho exchanged a knowing glance with San and Mingi. They’d had enough of the constant bickering and had been joking for weeks about taking drastic measures to put an end to it.

“Alright, that’s it,” Yunho said suddenly, standing up. “I can’t take this anymore. We need a break from your constant fighting.”

Before you could react, Yunho grabbed you by the arm while San and Mingi grabbed Wooyoung. You struggled, demanding to be let go, but they were determined.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” you yelled, trying to shake off Yunho’s grip.

“Let go of me! I’m not done here!” Wooyoung protested, struggling against San and Mingi.

Yeosang, who had been quietly watching the whole scene unfold, opened Wooyoung’s bedroom door. “In you go,” he said calmly, stepping aside.

Yunho and San practically shoved you both into the room and quickly shut the door behind you. You heard the click of the lock, and the realization set in.

“Are you guys serious?” you shouted, pounding on the door. “This is so immature!”

“Yeah, open the door! We don’t need this!” Wooyoung added, equally furious.

From the other side of the door, Yunho’s voice came through, sounding uncharacteristically stern. “You two need to sort this out. We’re not letting you out until you do.”

“You can’t be serious,” you groaned, leaning against the door in frustration.

“Oh, we’re very serious,” San replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re both our friends, and we’re tired of the constant fighting. So figure it out.”

Inside the room, you turned to face Wooyoung, who was glaring at you with just as much annoyance as you felt. You crossed your arms, refusing to be the first to speak.

“This is ridiculous,” Wooyoung muttered, pacing back and forth. “Like locking us in here is going to make us get along.”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t such a jerk all the time, we wouldn’t be in this situation,” you retorted, not missing a beat.

Wooyoung stopped pacing and turned to face you, his eyes flashing with irritation. “Me? A jerk? You’re the one who’s always acting like you’re better than everyone else!”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I only act like that because you always have to be the center of attention!”

Outside, you could hear your friends laughing and chatting, clearly unconcerned about the drama unfolding inside the room.

“Can’t believe they did this,” you muttered under your breath.

“Same,” he replied, sitting down on his bed with a huff. “This is all your fault.”

“My fault? How is this my fault?” you demanded, sitting down on the floor opposite him.

“You’re the one who always has to argue with me,” he said, gripping his hair in frustration. “You just can’t let anything go.”

“Because you’re always wrong!” you shot back, the argument feeling strangely familiar, yet different with no audience to play to.

You exchanged a heated glance with Wooyoung, who looked ready to explode. “This is all your fault,” he said, his voice low and accusing.

“My fault? You’ve got to be kidding me,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “If you weren’t such a pain in the ass, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Oh, please,” Wooyoung sneered, getting up from the bed and stepping closer. “You’re the one who’s always picking fights.”

“Because you’re always so damn infuriating!” you retorted, matching his step forward until you were face to face.

The tension between you was palpable, and for a moment, it felt like something would snap. Instead, you both turned away with a huff, deciding that silence might be the best strategy. Maybe if you stopped engaging, your friends would see how pointless this was and let you out.

The silence stretched on, heavy and uncomfortable. You sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, while Wooyoung sat on the edge of it, staring at the wall. The minutes ticked by slowly, each second filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension. You could feel his presence, every movement and breath, making it impossible to fully relax.

After what felt like an eternity, the silence became too much to bear. You shifted, the slight noise breaking the uneasy peace. Wooyoung glanced at you, his expression unreadable.

“What?” you snapped, unable to hold back.

“Nothing,” he muttered, looking away again.

The frustration boiled over. “You always do this,” you said, your voice rising. “Acting like you’re so much better than everyone else.”

Wooyoung’s head whipped around, his eyes flashing with anger. “Better than everyone else? You’re the one who’s always acting like you have something to prove!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t constantly try to undermine me!” you shouted, standing up.

“You’re unbelievable,” he said, standing up to face you. “You think you’re the only one who’s frustrated? You make everything so damn difficult!”

“Me? You’re the one who—”

The argument escalated quickly, voices rising, insults flying. The room seemed to shrink around you as the anger and frustration spilled over. You were both shouting now, words tumbling out without thought.

“You’re so arrogant!” you yelled, stepping closer to him.

“And you’re so damn stubborn!” Wooyoung shot back, closing the distance between you even more.

The space between you was electric, charged with anger and something else you couldn’t quite identify. The fight became more heated, the words more cutting.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” you said, your voice shaking with anger. “But you’re just a coward, hiding behind that smug attitude!”

Wooyoung’s eyes blazed with fury. “You don’t know anything about me!”

“Maybe because you never let anyone in!” you screamed, pushing him back. He stumbled slightly, then came back, his face inches from yours.

“Maybe because you never tried to understand!” he shouted, his breath hot on your face.

You felt a surge of anger and recklessness take over. “Why would I want to understand someone as pathetic as you?” you shot back, your words sharp and cutting.

Wooyoung’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Shut up,” he said, his voice low and filled with warning.

You met his gaze with a challenging look, the anger and adrenaline making you bold. “Make me,” you replied, your voice steady despite the wild beating of your heart.

For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. Then, before you could react, Wooyoung grabbed your shoulders and pulled you toward him, crashing his lips against yours in a rough, almost desperate kiss. The suddenness of it stole your breath, and for a split second, you were too stunned to respond.

But then you felt a surge of heat, a mix of anger and something much deeper. You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands moving to tangle in his hair as you tried to pull him even closer. It was a battle, not a kiss—each of you trying to dominate, to claim the upper hand.

Wooyoung’s hands tightened on your shoulders, his grip almost bruising as he pushed you back against the wall. You gasped, but it only made the kiss more intense. Your hands slipped from his hair to his back, clutching at his shirt as if it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

The kiss was messy, all teeth and tongues and raw need. You could feel the anger in it, the frustration and the years of unspoken tension. But there was something else, too—a desperate desire, a need to finally break through the barriers you’d both put up.

You fought back, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling hard enough to make him grunt. He responded by pressing you harder against the wall, his grip on your shoulders almost bruising. His lips moved against yours with a fierce intensity, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, demanding submission.

“Is that all you’ve got?” you taunted, your voice breathless but defiant.

Wooyoung growled, one hand moving to grip your jaw, tilting your head back forcefully. “You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?” he muttered against your lips before biting down harshly on your lower lip, drawing a gasp from you, almost drawing blood.

You retaliated by digging your nails into his back through his shirt, trying to assert some control. But Wooyoung was relentless. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand, his body pressing against yours, leaving you no room to move.

“Pathetic,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re always so desperate to prove yourself.”

“Better than being a smug asshole,” you shot back, twisting in his grip but finding no escape.

Wooyoung’s laugh was dark and mocking. “You like this, don’t you? Being put in your place.” His free hand trailed down your side, gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks.

“Shut up,” you spat, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach.

“Make me,” he countered, echoing your earlier challenge. His lips found yours again, even rougher this time, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, dominating every movement.

You bit down on his tongue, earning a growl from him as he pulled back slightly, only to return with even more force. His kiss was punishing, each movement designed to remind you who was in control. You couldn’t help but respond, your body betraying you as you arched against him.

“You’re such a brat,” he hissed, his lips moving down to your neck, biting and sucking hard enough to leave marks. “Always trying to fight me, but you’re just as desperate for this as I am.”

‘’Fuck you,” you repeated, though the words lacked conviction as a moan escaped your lips.

“Admit it,” he demanded, his hand slipping under your shirt, fingers digging into your skin. “Admit that you want this.”

“Never,” you gasped, tugging against his hold on your wrists.

He yanked your hands down, pinning them behind your back with one hand while his other hand slipped under your shirt, trailing down your stomach with rough, possessive movements.

“Let go of me,” you demanded, but your voice wavered, betraying your conflicting emotions.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Not until you learn to keep that mouth of yours shut.” His fingers found the waistband of your pants, slipping inside with a determined, almost punishing force.

You gasped as his fingers brushed against your core, the sensation both shocking and electrifying. “You’re such an ass,” you hissed, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach.

“Such a dirty little mouth,” he taunted, his fingers moving with a rough precision that made it impossible to think clearly. He found your clit quickly, starting to circle it roughly. “Maybe I should teach you a lesson.’’

Before you could respond, his fingers pushed inside you, the intrusion rough and unyielding. You bit back a moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction, but it was impossible to ignore the intensity of his touch.

“You like that, don’t you?” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot and taunting. “You act all tough, but deep down, you’re just a needy little slut.”

“Shut up,” you managed to gasp, your body betraying you as you arched against his hand.

His fingers moved faster, rougher, each movement designed to break down your resistance. “Fuck. You’re so wet for me. Just admit it.”

You clenched your jaw, refusing to give in. “I hate you,” you spat, though the words lacked conviction.

“Oh, I know you do,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But your body says otherwise.” He added another finger, stretching you, making you gasp. “Look at you, so desperate and needy. It’s pathetic.”

You wanted to retort, to throw another insult his way, but the sensation was overwhelming. His fingers moved with a brutal efficiency, hitting just the right spots to make you squirm. The anger and hatred mixed with the undeniable physical attraction, creating a storm of conflicting emotions.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice rough and commanding. “Admit that you want this.”

“Never,” you gasped, though the word came out more like a moan.

Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed, and he thrust his fingers harder, making you cry out despite yourself. “Say it,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I… I want it,” you finally admitted, the words torn from you unwillingly.

“Good girl,” he murmured, a mocking smile on his lips. “Was that so hard?” He continued his rough ministrations, his fingers moving in a relentless rhythm that left you trembling.

The words were degrading, but they pushed you over the edge. Your body convulsed around his fingers, pleasure crashing through you in waves. You cried out, unable to hold back, your hands gripping his arms for support.

Wooyoung watched you with a satisfied smirk, his fingers continuing to move inside you, drawing out every last bit of your orgasm. "That's it, sweetheart,’’ he murmured, his voice softening just a fraction.

You tried to catch your breath to regain some semblance of control, but Wooyoung was already kneeling in front of you, his hands roughly pushing your pants and underwear down to your ankles.

“Wh-what are you doing?” you stammered, though your body betrayed you with a shiver of anticipation.

“You think I’m done with you?” he growled, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave marks. “I’m going to show you what happens when you push me too far.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, his tongue flicking against your clit with a precision that made your knees buckle. You gasped, one hand flying to his hair, the other bracing against the wall for support.

“Wooyoung, stop—” you started, but your words dissolved into a moan as he sucked hard on your clit, his tongue working you over with relentless, rough strokes.

“You’re going to scream for me,” he muttered against you, his voice vibrating through your core. “Let your friends hear how much you need this.”

“Fuck—no,” you managed to gasp, though your voice wavered.

Wooyoung laughed, the sound dark and cruel. “We’ll see about that.” He intensified his movements, his tongue moving in ruthless circles while his fingers dug into your thighs, holding you in place.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle the sounds threatening to escape, but it was no use. The combination of his rough touch and skilled tongue was too much. Your hips bucked against his mouth, and a cry slipped out before you could stop it.

“Louder,” he demanded, pulling back just enough to speak, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. “I want them to hear how much you love this.”

“Fuck you,” you spat, but the defiance was slipping away with every flick of his tongue.

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe later,” he said, diving back in with renewed intensity. His tongue moved faster, harder, and you could feel the pressure building again, even more overwhelming than before.

Your resolve crumbled, and you let out a loud moan, unable to hold back. Wooyoung smirked against you, his satisfaction evident as he continued to push you closer to the edge.

“That’s it,” he murmured between strokes. “Scream for me like the needy little slut you are.”

You tried to resist, to stay bratty and defiant, but it was impossible. The pleasure was too intense, his dominance too overwhelming. With a final, desperate cry, you came, your body trembling as the orgasm crashed over you.

He didn’t let up, his tongue working you through the aftershocks, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were a shaking, gasping mess. Only then did he pull back, his lips glistening with your arousal, a satisfied smirk on his face.

He stood up from his knees, his eyes dark with a mix of triumph and raw lust. You barely had time to catch your breath before he was on you again, his hands rough as they grabbed your wrists and pulled you toward the desk beside you.

“You think we’re done?” he growled, his voice filled with cruel amusement. “Not even close.”

You tried to muster some defiance, but the intensity of the situation left you breathless. “You’re such an asshole,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky.

“And you’re about to learn just how much of an asshole I can be,” he replied, pushing you forward so that your upper body was bent over the desk. His hands were on your hips.

Wooyoung didn’t waste any time. You heard the rustle of his clothes as he freed himself, and then you felt the blunt pressure of his cock against your entrance. He didn’t bother with gentleness; he thrust into you in one brutal motion, making you cry out.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his grip on your hips bruising as he started to move, setting a punishing pace. “Bet you love being fucked like this, don’t you?”

You tried to hold onto some semblance of control, to maintain your defiance. “Go to hell,” you spat, though the words were weak, almost drowned out by the sounds of his relentless thrusts.

Wooyoung laughed, a dark, mocking sound. “Already there, sweetheart,” he replied, his hips snapping against yours with a brutal rhythm. “And you’re fucking coming with me.”

Each thrust was rough and demanding, pushing you closer to the edge with a ruthless efficiency. You could feel the desk digging into your skin, but the pleasure was overwhelming, making it hard to focus on anything else.

“Such a dirty little slut,” he murmured, leaning over you so that his breath was hot against your ear. “Can’t even form a proper sentence, can you?”

You tried to respond, but all that came out was a broken moan. Wooyoung’s pace quickened, his thrusts growing even more forceful, and you felt the pressure building again, a coil tightening inside you. Wooyoung felt your tight walls pulsing around his cock. 

“You’re going to come for me again, aren’t you?” he taunted, his voice low and rough. “Say it.”

“I—” you gasped, trying to fight the pleasure, but it was useless. “I’m going to—”

“That’s right,” he cut you off, his tone filled with dark satisfaction. “Come for me, you filthy brat.”

The words pushed you over the edge, and you came with a loud cry, your body trembling as the orgasm ripped through you. Wooyoung didn’t let up, his thrusts relentless as he chased his own release.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice filled with contempt and desire. “So desperate and needy. Pathetic.”

He pulled out suddenly, leaving you empty and aching. Before you could process the loss, he was moving you again, his hands rough as he pushed you toward the bed. You stumbled, falling onto the mattress, and he was on you in an instant, flipping you onto your back.

“Think you can handle more?” he asked, his eyes dark and challenging.

You nodded, too breathless to speak, your body already craving the next wave of pleasure.

“Good,” he said, positioning himself between your legs. 

He entered you again, the angle different but no less brutal. Your hands clutched at the sheets, trying to anchor yourself as he pounded into you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge once more. He took your thigh and pressed it against your chest, thrusting deeper. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, his grip on your thigh hard enough to leave marks. “Such a perfect little slut for me.”

The pleasure was overwhelming, turning your mind into a hazy blur. You could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words, as he fucked you with a relentless intensity, pouring all the rage from earlier into it. 

“Can’t even talk, can you?” he mocked, his voice filled with cruel amusement. “Too dumb from getting fucked by my cock.”

You tried to respond, but all that came out was a series of incoherent moans. Wooyoung’s thrusts grew even more forceful, and you felt the pressure building again, another orgasm threatening to crash over you.

“You’re going to come again,” he said, his tone commanding. “And you’re going to scream my name when you do.”

You shook your head, trying to hold onto some shred of defiance, but it was useless. The pleasure was too much, too overwhelming. With a final, brutal thrust, you came, your body arching off the bed as the orgasm tore through you, as you screamed his name. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. He continued to move, his pace never faltering, pushing you through the aftershocks and into another wave of pleasure.

By the time he finally came, his release hot and overwhelming inside you, you were a trembling, incoherent mess. He pulled out slowly, leaving you breathless and spent on the bed.

“See?” he said, his voice filled with mocking satisfaction. “All you needed was to be put in your place.”

You glared at him weakly, the fire of your anger not completely extinguished despite the overwhelming pleasure. “I still hate you,” you managed to say, though your voice was weak, more breathless.

“And I still hate you too,” he replied, his expression hard. “But at least now you know what happens when you push me too far.”

The room was filled with the tension of your unresolved hatred, the physical release doing nothing to ease the animosity between you. As you lay there, trying to catch your breath and regain some sense of composure, one thing was clear: the war between you and Wooyoung was far from over, but for now, you had been thoroughly defeated.

————————

Outside Wooyoung’s room, Yunho, San, Mingi, and Yeosang were still gathered, exchanging knowing glances and quiet laughter as they waited for the inevitable explosion of another argument. However, when the first loud moan echoed through the door, their expressions changed from amusement to shock.

“Did you just hear that?” San asked, eyes wide, looking at the others for confirmation.

“Yeah, I definitely heard something,” Yunho replied, raising an eyebrow. “That didn’t sound like an argument.”

Mingi covered his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. “I think they’re… uh… working things out in a different way.”

Yeosang’s eyes widened as another, louder moan filtered through the door, followed by a string of incoherent words. “Oh my god, they’re really going at it,” he said, looking both amused and slightly horrified.

Yunho shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. “Well, this is unexpected.”

San smirked, nudging Yunho. “Guess our plan worked a little too well.”

Mingi couldn’t contain his laughter anymore. “Should we just… leave them to it?”

Yeosang nodded vigorously. “Yeah, I don’t think they need an audience for this.”

Yunho stood up, clapping his hands together. “Alright, everyone. Let’s give them some privacy. I think they’ve got enough to handle without us hanging around.”

San stretched, yawning dramatically. “Yeah, I could use a break from all the drama anyway.”

As they gathered their things, another particularly loud moan resonated through the door, making them all wince and then burst into laughter.

“Okay, that’s our cue to leave,” Mingi said, heading towards the front door.

“Maybe we should go get some ice cream or something,” Yeosang suggested. “Give them plenty of time to… sort things out.”

Yunho nodded, opening the door. “Good idea. I think we all need a break from this craziness.”

As they left the house, the moans and muffled sounds of pleasure faded into the background, replaced by the summer evening's quiet hum.

“You know, I always thought they’d kill each other before anything like this happened,” San said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Guess there’s a fine line between love and hate,” Yunho chuckled.

“Or in their case, a very loud, very thin line,” Mingi added, laughing.

As they headed down the street, leaving Wooyoung and you to your privacy, the group couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. It seemed that locking you two up together had definitely brought some unexpected results.