#when you invest in a relationship with someone and then dropped like a bag of flour when they’re friends are move to the area

[thespunkyknight]

welp

[after-the-end-times]

Stupid Sexy Tree Trimming

Prompt: Tree 🎄 Rating: T 🎄 Words: 999 Tags: Established Relationship, Suggestive Language, Pre-Thanksgiving Christmas Tree, The Party shenanigans, The Inherent Intimacy of Tree Trimming @steddieholidaydrabbles Ao3

“Ok, who’s gonna be my fluffer?”

Eddie pauses with the front door still open, dried leaves blowing in on the fall wind, and blinks at what he just heard his boyfriend say from the other room. He has to imagine it’s not what it sounded like, so he just shuts the door and drops his bag and jacket by the coat closet.

“I’ll get your balls!”

Now that brings him up short, because Jonathon has who’s what?! What’s he even doing here? Didn’t Steve say they were gonna have a nice, quiet evening in?

“Ugh no. You’re not fluffing right. Here watch this. You grab here and pull up, down, over. And then repeat that. Up, down, over. Up, down, over. See? Much better.”

Well, now this is getting ridiculous, because what is Jonathon and Nancy doing here? And doing something that involves fluffing, grabbing, pulling...and balls?

Eddie finally makes it down the hall and turns the corner to see...a mess. That’s what they’re all doing here: making a giant mess that’s taking up every surface of the room.

And at the heart of the mess is Steve.

Well, Steve and half a tree?

Eddie gives an impressed whistle at the display, startling several of the kids who are sitting on the floor with piles of old newspaper and ornaments around them,

Steve looks up at him and his face lights up.

Oh yeah, Eddie will never get tired of that. Definitely one of his Top 5 Favorite Steve Faces™

“Eddie! You’re back early!”

Not one of his top 5 favorite phrases though. That one always means someone’s up to something.

“Yeeeeah, sooo. What’s going on here? And why is that tree naked?” He says pointing at the limbless tree trunk Steve’s standing next to.

“Oh! Ha, yeah. It’s our Christmas tree!” he gestures toward the tree and then to the kids bickering on the floor, “The kids came over and then one thing led to another and I was dragging the box down from the attic and they were pulling down the boxes of ornaments and decorations and I know we were going to wait until December to decorate for Christmas but-”

“Hey hey,” Eddie gently steps through and around the kids and piles of stuff on the floor, pushing aside a huge cardboard box, “It’s fine! I was just surprised. And confused. When we talked about putting up a tree, I thought you’d want to go get a real tree. You know, chop it down and drag it home, all that.”

He made it through to the other side, Steve taking his hands so he could step over a pile of tree limbs without falling on his face.

“Nope, no real trees in this house.” He starts taking the limbs from the pile at their feet and matching the colors on the stems to the little holes on the trunk. Eddie grabs up a handful of branches to hand them one by one to Steve.

He continues, “My parents used to get a huge real tree before I was born and even when I was little, but after a few years they realized it was the tree giving me terrible sinus infections every winter. So they got this tree and I’ve had healthy Christmases ever since!” he huffs out a chuckle, “They also realized it was a lot cleaner without the pine needles falling everywhere and no one had to climb under the tree to water it. So a win win for everyone!”

“Huh, didn’t know you had tree allergies.” He says as Robin hands him a pile of fresh properly fluffed branches. He hands a few to Steve and starts adding his own to the little slots.

Humming to himself, he blithely continues, “We’ll have to invest in one of these for our place then. Only happy, breathable Christmases for us!”

Steve sucks in a breath, “Our place?”

Silence rings out from behind him. Eddie turns to see the older teens gathering up the kids, Robin trying to stay behind and getting bodily shoved out by Nancy and Jonathon.

“What?” Eddie turns back to see Steve gazing at him, eyes shining.

“You wanna move in together? Have Christmases together? Even though we’ve only been dating a month?”

“Well, yeah. Don’t you?”

And there it is again, quickly becoming his #1 Favorite Steve Face™, that light beaming from his wide smile and scrunched up eyes, all right before he picks Eddie up and spins him in a tight circle.

“Yesyesyes, of course!”

They come to a stop and Steve presses a hard kiss against his mouth, Eddie softens it holding his jaw gently. He slowly pulls away to rest his forehead against Steve’s. They can’t stop grinning and softly laughing.

“Can we come back now!”

“Are you getting engaged!”

“I still have your balls!”

“Ew! Stop saying that!”

Laughing, Steve pulls back to yell back, “Yes! Come back in! No! We’re not engaged!” he catches Eddie’s eyes and whispers, “Someday?”

Eddie presses his own hard kiss against Steve’s lips, backing up far enough to whisper, “Someday. Also. Why does Jonathon keep talking about your balls?”

Steve throws his head back, cackling.

“Christmas baubles,” He gets out through a laugh. “Mike hates it, so Jonathon thinks it’s hilarious.”

“Oh, I need to get in on that.” He pecks a kiss on Steve’s lips before turning around, throwing an arm out in proclamation. “I get to hold Steve’s balls next! Hand them over Jon, you’ve had them long enough. They’re officially mine now, almost engaged and everything!”

Mike glares from his spot on the floor. “Stop. You’re not funny.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Steve?”

“So funny, baby,” Steve wraps an arm around him, speaking low in his ear. “But, maybe we finish this tree now and then you can handle some other baubles later?”

Turning in his arms. he leers, “Oh Stevie, I can’t wait to trim your tree tonight. But this time? I get to be the fluffer.”

[dominimoonbeam]

What's Happening?

Gavin/Freelancer sickfic I wrote for @glassbearclock my beloved!

Early early relationship, Freelancer has a cold but is worried that if they cancel on a date with Gavin he won't come back.

tags: sickfic, relationship uncertainties, gavin is a caregiver, light angst

What's Happening?

Freelancer felt like shit. They’d been sucking on throat lozenges like their life depended on it all morning. And it sort of did. At least their sex life did.

Gavin was a daemon, so it wasn’t like they could get him sick, they just had to not be disgusting when he came over tonight.

Fuck, they were so tired, but they dragged themself to the pharmacy and tried to find the strongest cold medicine that wouldn’t completely knock them out. They read the label on another bottle and had to bite off a laugh when it said not to operate heavy machinery. Did Gavin’s dick count? Were they the one operating it? No.

When they noticed someone sneaking a glance at them, they realized they’d laughed aloud. Oh shit, were they acting weird? They felt like a furnace in their hoodie, even though everyone else was wearing big jackets and it was snowing out.

The walk home felt twice as long as ever before. They were so worn out. They had to resist the panicked urge to pop the bottle in that shopping bag and take a few drinks. They needed to get their shit together. They needed to perk up. They had an incubus coming over!

Oh god, what if they couldn’t get it together? What if he realized they were sick? If they weren’t any good tonight, then would he come back again?

They liked Gavin. A lot. And not just for the sex. The sex was amazing, of course. It was the stuff of fantasies that Freelancer had only read and daydreamed about before. Their own brief sexual encounters with other people had been okay, but nothing like this. And Gavin made them feel like they were the deviant, like they were just as prolific and skilled as he was. It felt amazing and empowering and fun. They weren’t ready to give that up, but more than that, so much more than that, they were worried about losing Gavin.

They wanted to believe they were more than just a good meal to him, more than just benefits. They wanted to believe they were friends. But the level of worry they had over not being able to perform tonight was making them realize they really weren’t sure.

And if he didn’t come back, how would they find him? How would they ask how he was doing or if he wanted to hang out?

They were lightheaded by the time they got to their building and leaned heavily against the wall in the elevator. The ding seemed impossibly loud.

Okay. They just had to get to their apartment, chug some of that cold medicine, take a shower, and act like they weren’t ready to sleep for twelve hours.

The elevator dinged and the door rattled open. Freelancer walked down the hall, surprised by how it stretched and wobbled. That can’t be good. They managed to get their keys out and in the door, pushing it open and stumbling in.

“You’re late,” Gavin called from the living room, sounding seductive and guarded like always. “I was starting to think you were standing me up, Deviant. I was about to—Deviant?”

Their knees hit the floor just inside their apartment and they dropped their backpack and the shopping bag, somehow fumbling both in an attempt to hang on to them and to themself while their vision turned too bright and the ground kept sliding under them.

“Deviant?” He was closer. Was that panic in his voice? Shit.

They tried to say they were okay and to apologize, maybe even laugh at how clumsy they were, but everything went dark.

-

Gavin had only gotten there a few minutes before them. He’d actually been late, largely because he was struggling over how eager he was to see them. It wasn’t normal. He shouldn’t be that invested in one of his charges. They came and went. They were there for a good time, a good time he delivered, but he’d always been careful not to get too attached.

So, he’d been intentionally late.

And it hadn’t even mattered because his deviant wasn’t home yet anyway. So he sat on the couch and wondered where they were, if he should leave, if they were over him and onto other things…

And then the door had opened and he’d stayed on the couch, trying not to act overly eager.

And then his deviant had stumbled.

Gavin was there in a flash, standing over them and trying to understand what had happened. Their aura was…strange, and they were breathing fast. They mumbled out a tangle of what he assumed was supposed to be words before their body keeled forward in a dead faint.

Gavin caught them, one hand cupping their head before it could hit the floor. Panic stampeded through him. “Deviant?” he spoke gently, picking them up in his arms and carrying them to the couch. With a thought, he’d closed the front door.

He put them on the couch and their eyes were already fluttering open. “What’s happening?” he almost pleaded, touching their face and neck. They were so hot. This couldn’t be normal for humans. He used magic to search for injuries, for anything he could heal, but there was nothing.

They looked teary, pressing their lips and swallowing hard. They flinched, like that hurt. “Shit… I’m sorry, Gav…” They sat up. He stayed on the coffee table, hands roaming their upper body, afraid they’d tip over again. They coughed and tried to hide it against their arm.

“You’re sick?”

“I’m okay.”

“We should take you to a hospital.”

They smiled a little. “For a cold? No. Seriously, I’m fine.”

“You fainted!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for it!”

They caught one of his hands. They were so warm, but they looked up at him so calmly through those glassy eyes and past those flushed cheeks. “It’s okay, really. I just overdid it, I guess. I probably shouldn’t have gone out.”

“Why did you?”

They deflated, looking down. “I was getting cold medicine. I thought if I could get something to shake the symptoms… you wouldn’t notice.”

He blinked. “I mean, I’m glad you want me that bad, but I’m not sure my dick is actually worth dying for.”

They snorted a laugh and then coughed again, curling an arm over their face. “I mean, I wouldn’t say it’s not... But I just… I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Gavin felt like the world had dropped out from under him. He stared at them. “What?” Disappoint him?

“I know you hang out with me for…” Their aura flinched and twisted, filling with self-doubt and delicate fear. “I didn’t want you to leave or… not come back,” they confessed quietly, shoulders sagging.

Gavin tried to absorb all of that. They had gone out when they were sick to try to get this cold medicine in hopes that he would somehow not notice they were sick so he’d fuck them, not because they wanted to get laid, but because… because they thought that was his only reason for hanging out with them? And why wouldn’t they think that, when he’d definitely always put it that way for himself and for them. But they wanted him to hang out with them… Enough to go through all this effort. Enough to put out when they were definitely not into it. There was a lot about this he hated but the crystal clear center was what almost had him choking up.

Fortunately, his deviant was definitely too sick to notice at the moment.

“I like you,” Gavin said, a little terrified to say it and sort of hoping that fever would keep them from remembering.

They looked up at him, their aura smoothing out with hope. It was beautiful. And it had cost him nothing but the truth. “So… You’ll come back sometime?”

He sighed, pushing some of their hair out of their face. “Oh, deviant… I’m not leaving you like this.”

They blinked and then straightened where they sat. “Y-You want to… I was worried the whole sick thing would be a turn off…”

He laughed darkly. “It’s not, but we’re not going to fuck. You fainted from walking down the hall. What I do with you might kill you right now.”

His deviant chewed their lip, leaning closer. Their weak aura even flared with interest. He smiled. They were incredible. “I don’t think it would… We could try.” They started coughing again, this time rooting around in the pocket of their hoodie, dumping little wrappers before coming out with what looked like a candy. They shoved it in their mouth and sucked.

Gavin ignored the way his dick jumped in his pants. No. Nope. He was not going to take that bait. He snagged one of the wrappers and spread it out, reading it. Medicine.

“We should put you to bed, right? The right way, I mean,” he smirked, floundering a little. What did people do with sick people? “We should get you in your pajamas and into bed and then… water?”

“Yeah, I’ll go to bed… You don’t have to stay, Gavin. I know this isn’t fun—”

“Who says it’s not fun? I’ve never taken care of a human before. Maybe I’ll be good at it…” He smiled. “I’m good at most things I do.”

His deviant smiled. “I believe you.”

He shivered pleasantly and scooped them up. The deviant gasped, throwing arms around his neck in surprise when he picked them up. Somewhere between the living room and their bedroom he vanished their clothes, enjoyed their surprised gasp against his neck and the naked skin in his arms for a split-second, before putting their favorite pajamas on them just as quickly. He settled them on the bed and pulled the covers up over them. He’d never actually pulled the covers up before…

For a second, he stared at them and they stared at him. They were so cute.

What else?

Fluids? That was an illness thing, right? He used magic to make a big glass of water and then considered their sore throat and added a cup of tea.

Deviant smiled, their aura practically shining with happiness despite.

Was it so easy to make all humans happy? Or just his human? He changed into his own comfy sweatpants and crawled in bed with them. “What else do you need?” He pulled their body against his, again surprised by the heat radiating off of them.

“No, that’s great. Thank you. You don’t have to stay.” Their eyelids were heavy.

He stroked their hair the way he knew they liked, of course, usually he did it as a part of aftercare, but care was care, right? “Do you want me to go?”

“No,” they whispered, half-asleep already but the answer coming fast and easy.

“Then I’ll stay.”

They smiled to themself and curled into his chest. He kissed their head. When they were asleep, he magicked their phone from their bag to his hand. He googled colds and what to do. When they woke up, he’d make soup and make sure they drank some of those liquids. It looked like he’d need a thermometer and maybe medicine to reduce a fever if they kept this up. He was going to be a fucking expert when they woke up, but, until then, he stroked their hair and their back and relished the steady pulse of their aura.

[thelittlestladylikesthis]

The Pink Rose, part 5

Part Five- July 7th, 74 ADD

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader 

Word count: 2,119

Warnings: heterosexual relationship, light smut, fluff, reference to violence, arguing

It had been three days since [Y/n] and Haymitch had accompanied their tributes to the Capitol. Three days since Haymitch’s bad first impression had potentially revealed what the tributes were capable of. [Y/n] sat staring at her plate of eggs, toast, and bacon. She had a notebook and pen for notes as she listened to Haymitch explain the importance of the training days and knowing what their skills are. 

As in most things, Katniss was conservative about her skills. Peeta emphasized how good of a shot she was with a bow and arrow. Katniss responds by mentioning Peeta could throw hundred pound bags of flour and that he knows how to wrestle. 

“What use is that? How many times have you seen someone wrestle someone to death?” Peeta said with a grimace.

Katniss shot back with an angry tone, “There’s always hand-to-hand combat. All you need is to come up with a knife, and you’ll at least stand a chance. If I get jumped, I’m dead!” 

“But you won’t! You’ll be living up in some tree eating raw squirrels and picking off people with arrows. You know what my mother said to me when she came to say good-bye, as if to cheer me up, she says maybe District Twelve will finally have a winner. Then I realized, she didn’t mean me, she meant you!” Peeta shouted.

“Oh, she meant you,” Katniss dismissed.

“She said, ‘She’s a survivor, that one.’She is,” Peeta said quietly.

The room stood still. [Y/n] felt her heart drop and an instant dislike of Mrs. Mellark. Who in Panem tells their own child they’re going to die after being selected in a reaping. The farewell opportunity is a time to wish for their safety and build them up. That bitch tore him down- she berated her son for someone else’s daughter.

After Peeta and Katniss calm down, Haymitch hesitantly restarts the conversation and insists that they spend their training days learning a new skill and under no circumstances showing the other tributes what they’re capable of- to save that for the Gamemakers.

“One last thing. In public, I want you by each other’s side every minute,” says Haymitch. The two teens start to object before Haymitch makes everyone jump by slamming his hand on the table, “Every minute! It’s not open for discussion! You agreed to do as I said! You will be together, you will appear amiable to each other. Now get out. Meet Effie at the elevator at ten for training.”

The two of them left the room and the sound of Katniss’ bedroom slamming echoed through their quarters.

“You’re not doing yourself any favors in her eyes,” [Y/n] said.

“I’m not here to be her friend, I don’t even want to be a mentor. But since she threw a knife and you’re more invested in what you see, I’m willing to play along,” Haymitch explained., “What are you doing?”

[Y/n] looked at him out the side of her eye and saw he was referring to her notes, “I’m writing what I know. I’m trying to see what I can confidently say or twist for the sponsors. But I need to be careful,”

“Careful? I think you mean ruthless,”

“No. Careful. The deepest pockets always want something in return. I also need to remember who I have dirt on,”

“You sound like Finnick Odair,”

“Not necessarily a bad thing in this scenario. He’s good at getting sponsors and since we’re good friends, it might be entertaining to see who we can snag this year,” [Y/n] smirked.

Haymitch chuckled in unison. The idea of pulling a fast one on some of the other tributes was an entertaining thought. He didn’t realize how fast time had gone until Peeta and Katniss emerged from their rooms, ready to go find Effie.

Once they were truly alone, Haymitch rose from his chair to stand behind [Y/n]’s chair, “You should really loosen up Sweetheart,” Haymitch whispers as he starts to rub [Y/n]’s neck and shoulders. As excitable as having beloved tributes is, it is almost more stressful than having tributes who fly under the radar. [Y/n] gave a quiet moan of pleasure as Haymitch somehow gave an excellent shoulder massage. His strong, rough fingers ran up and down the stiff muscles in her shoulders, attempting to break up the solid tension that had built there. Suddenly, Haymitch’s hands slowly made their way over her shoulders and over the front of her dress. In the same instant, his lips rest just under her jawbone. He began to kiss her neck with enthusiasm; lightly sucking the skin and running the tip of his tongue over the same spot. [Y/n] felt a shiver run through her body. The heat where he kissed her neck resonated through her torso and went down between her legs. The burn increased as his hands cupped her breasts and found their way under the fabric.

Haymitch whispered against her skin, “It’s been a while since we tried this,”

[Y/n] responded with soft chuckle, “It’s been less than three days,”

“Less than three days too long,” he whispered as hands massaged her breasts.

[Y/n] reached around and ran her fingers into his curls. Her back began to arch as Haymitch circled her nipples with his thumb. His lips left her skin and he trailed his nose up until she felt his warm breath on her ear, “I wanna take you on this table,” he growled. [Y/n] melted at the sound of his lowered voice.

“This better not become a regular occurrence!” a familiar voice trilled prompting [Y/n] and Haymitch to immediately separate. Effie quickly walked across the room muttering quietly, “You’d think they own the place!”

[Y/n] stood up and placed one hand on Haymitch’s chest, “She’s right, we really should be more careful,” 

“We still have an hour to be careful,” Haymitch said as he scooped her up.

“Haymitch!” [Y/n] squealed as he quickly headed towards his bedroom.

“At least be quiet!” Effie yelled from the other room.

*     *     *

After six days in the Capitol, six days of [Y/n] schmoozing sponsors, mediating conversations between Haymitch, Katniss, and Peeta, and having a few short interviews with Caesar Flickerman, came private session day. The day where Katniss and Peeta show what they can do. The sessions started after lunch, but Katniss and Peeta would go last since they were from District 12. [Y/n] remembered how infuriating that was. If you were from 12, it was likely that the Gamemakers had indulged themselves on food and drink by the time it was your turn. They were either drunk, tired, or passed out after watching over 20 other demonstrations. 

Effie and Haymitch were engaged in a conversation about the sponsors they’d already gained when Cinna and Portia got off the elevator. It was almost dinner time and they’d want to be hearing about how the sessions went. After about 20 minutes, Peeta got off the elevator and walked to his room to change clothes. Roughly 15 minutes later, Katniss burst out of the elevator and nearly sprinted to her room. Effie, Haymitch, and Portia call after her from the sitting room, but she doesn’t stop. Peeta was in the hall when she passed him, “Hey, was she crying?” he asked with concern. [Y/n] and Effie tried to get Katniss to open the door, but she just yelled for them to go away.

Effie tried again at dinner time and this time returned with Katniss. Katniss avoided eye contact with everyone, including Cinna and  [Y/n]. After a few minutes of small talk, the Avoxes bring dinner to the table and Haymitch starts:

“Okay, enough small talk, just how bad were you today?” [Y/n] rolled her eyes and gave him a look of utter disbelief. 

Before Katniss could respond, Peeta said, ““I don’t know that it mattered. By the time I showed up, no one even bothered to look at me. They were singing some kind of drinking song, I think. So, I threw around some heavy objects until they told me I could go.”

“Figures,” scoffed [Y/n].

Cinna shook his head in disappointment, “If they’re going to send them all into the same arena, they could at least afford the same attention instead of acting like that,”

“And you, sweetheart?” asked Haymitch.

Katniss’ eyes remained on her empty plate, “I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers,” the room silenced immediately.

“You what?” Effie yelled angrily, face draped in uncharacteristic horror. 

“I shot an arrow at them. Not exactly at them. In their direction. It’s like Peeta said, I was shooting and they were ignoring me and I just ... I just lost my head, so I shot an apple out of their stupid roast pig’s mouth!” Katniss said with a matter of fact tone of defiance.

“Are you crazy?” Effie almost yelled and saw Haymitch looking at her with a smirk, “I don’t think we’re going to find this funny if-”

“If what?” Haymitch interjected, “If they decide to punish someone?” he gestured to Katniss and Peeta with one hand and himself and [Y/n] with the other, “I think they already have, loosen your corset, have a drink,”

Cinna turned back to Katniss and carefully asked, “And what did they say?”

“Nothing. Or I don’t know. I walked out after that,” she responded

“Without being dismissed?” [Y/n] probed

“I dismissed myself,”

“Are you crazy?!” Effie trilled.

Haymitch ripped off a hunk of meat from his pork chop and leaned over to take a bite before stopping and chuckling,”What were their faces like?”

[Y/n] could see the twitch of a smile on the edges of Katniss’ mouth, “Shocked. Terrified. Uh, ridiculous, some of them. One man tripped backward into a bowl of punch.”

Everyone but Effie burst into a fit laughter. Haymitch even looked as if he were going to cry. [Y/n] had not had a laugh that good in a long while.

Effie looked as if she were trying to avoid smiling, “Well, it serves them right. It’s their job to pay attention to you. And just because you come from District Twelve is no excuse to ignore you, that’s what I think,”

“I’ll get a very bad score,” the smile slowly fell from Katniss’ face.

“Scores only matter if they’re very good, no one pays much attention to the bad or mediocre ones,” Portia chipped in.

“For all they know, you could be hiding your talents to get a low score on purpose. People use that strategy all the time,” [Y/n] said with a reassuring smile.

[Y/n] turned her attempt at motherly reassurance to Peeta as he followed her with, “I hope that’s how people interpret the four I’ll probably get… if that,”

After dinner, the group settles in the sitting room to watch the scores be announced on television. A photo of the tribute appears on the screen and after they’ve been introduced, their score appears below them. The Career Tributes all score between 8 and 10. Most others score around 5. [Y/n] reminds Peeta and Katniss that this is normal. Then remembers most District 12 tributes generally score 4-6 and hopes that Katniss and Peeta don’t remember that.

Twenty-two tributes go across the screen when they finally see Peeta. The group celebrates while Peeta comes to terms with his score of 8. Katniss remained stoic in her seat, radiating anxiety before her number flashes underneath her picture:

“Eleven!” Effie squeals.

Cinna and Portia cheer and congratulate her. [Y/n] and Haymitch excitedly give each other a hug and then join the congratulations.

Katniss is still in disbelief, “There must be a mistake. How ... how could that happen?”

“I guess they liked your guts,” Haymitch said. 

“They’ve got a show to put on. They need some players with heat.” [Y/n] added.

“Katniss, the girl who was on fire,” says Cinna, “Oh, wait until you see your interview

dress.” 

“More flames?” Katniss asked 

“Of a sort,” he chuckled mischievously.

The group wrapped up the congratulations, discussed their schedules for tomorrow, and headed off to their rooms. 

Back in his room and uncharacteristically brushing his teeth before bed, Haymitch felt a pair of arms wrap around him. He looked down and recognized the carefully manicured hands of [Y/n]. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,”

[Y/n] nuzzled her forehead between his shoulder blades, “Do you think they can do it?”

“Well I know you don’t mean ‘can they both win’. So, do what?”

“Work together. Can one of them overcome this?”

“I guess we’ll see. There’s something there in both of them,”

Masterlist

[seiya-starsniper]

For the flower prompts: Hyacinth - loser has to ask out...

I will leave pairing(s) to your discretion, whoever most strikes your fancy ❤️

TJ, thank you for the prompt! I went with Dreamling, with a nice little monsterfucker twist to ring in the first day of @monsterfucktoberbingo!

Square: Were-creature.

Flower Prompt Game!

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

“You ready for tonight?” Johanna asks, dropping her densely packed duffel bag onto the table before plopping in the chair next to Hob. She’s tense. Hob can tell without even looking at her. But there’s also a thrum of excitement coming off her in waves.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Hob replies, not looking up from his stake sharpening. “How many stakes have you got in there?” he asks.

“A dozen wooden, and three steel,” Johanna answers, patting the duffel with pride.. “All consecrated, and plenty of holy water.”

“Good girl,” Hob praises her. He means it too. Johanna’s one of the best damn hunters he’s ever worked with, and he knows she’s going to give the vampires they’re hunting tonight absolute hell. It’s one of the biggest nests they’ve ever come across. Nearly six dozen vampires all quartered in a large abandoned grain barn that spans nearly a quarter of an acre. They’ve been hunting all the nearby towns, picking off the elderly first, but soon moving onto the adults and children. Their mission tonight is to raid the nest for hostages and kill any of the guard vampires, then torch the whole thing at dawn when the rest come back to sleep. Their reign of terror should hopefully end tonight.

“How many are you aiming to gank yourself?” Johanna asks casually, but Hob can hear the competition in her tone. 

“You looking to put some money on that?” Hob replies cheekily. “I thought you’d have learned with the banshees that you can’t ever beat my record, Constantine.”

“Those were unfair odds and you know it!” Johanna whines. She’s right, of course. Banshees tended to flock more to men, and so Hob had taken out far more than Johanna had. But a bet was a bet and Johanna had had to clean Hob’s shotguns for a month after.

“I’m just saying,” Hob says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m happy to let you clean out the Impala when I trounce your numbers tonight.”

Johanna grimaces. It was no secret that Hob lived out of his car and that he was a bit disgusting about it. She’d once opened the back door to sit in the back and had been greeted a rat he hadn’t even known was there. To this day he doesn’t know where it came from. 

“How about this instead?”Johanna replies. “If I get the most vamps in this nest, you have to ask Peggy out.”

Hob sighs. He should’ve seen this coming. “Johanna—”

“I’m serious Hob,” Johanna interrupts him. “I know you two get along and I see the way the two of you look at each other. You’d be good for one another.”

“Peggy’s young,” Hob argues. “She deserves someone who will get her out of this life.”

“You and I both know she’s never getting out of this life,” Johanna replies solemnly. “And she’s 25 for Christ’s sake. Not even a decade younger than you, stop looking at her like a child.”

Johanna was right. She was usually right, not that Hob would ever tell her unless under extreme duress. Peggy may have been a child when she first became a hunter but she was a full grown woman now. And well…she was quite beautiful and smart as fuck. Hob could maybe love her. It’d been almost fifteen years since Eleanor was taken by vampires herself, and the void she’d left behind had gotten easier and easier to bear with each person he saved. 

Hob sighs. What could it hurt? If things didn’t work out, he knows he and Peggy could still be friends. 

“Fine, but if I get more vamps than you, you’ve gotta ask out Rachel instead,” Hob says back. 

Johanna blushes a furious shade of red and Hob smiles. Now that was a relationship he was invested in seeing bloom.

“You got yourself a deal Hobsie,” she replies, and the two of them shake on it. 

—------------

Hob is at five vampire deaths when he starts chasing three fledgling vampires into the woods. They’re fast, but uncoordinated, and Hob thinks he can probably pick them off one by one if he times his shots right with the crossbow he borrowed from Johanna.

He realizes too late that the vampires have isolated him from the other hunters, and that he’s been led to a clearing to be ambushed. There had also been a fourth he hadn’t accounted for, and he curses at himself for falling for such an obvious trap so easily. He manages to take out one of the fledglings, but the remaining three overpower him. Just as they’re getting ready to tear into his flesh, Hob gets unexpected support in the form of a fucking were-panther.

Hob watches in awe as the beast knocks aside one of his assailants, freeing Hob from their hold and allowing him to stake one of the remaining vampires holding his arms. He then watches in awe as the panther tears into the throat of the fledgling it knocked aside, before the beast grabs the thing by the hair and yanks the head clean off. 

The final vampire is easily picked off between the two of them. Hob is surprised by how fluidly they work together, despite this being the first time he’s ever met the creature. When he is certain there are no others approaching, he turns to the panther, who is looking at him with curiosity and brilliant golden eyes. 

“Not that I’m not grateful for the assist, but what the fuck is a were-panther doing here?” Hob asks.

The air seems to vibrate for a few moments and Hob recognizes the tell-tale signs of a shift and moments later he’s face to face with a pale naked man with a shock of messy, jet black hair, and the most brilliant blue eyes he’s ever seen.

Fuck, but he was gorgeous and Hob’s type in every single way. Despite his shifter disposition, the man’s human form was void of any hair, and though he was thin and almost lanky, Hob could see the ripple of muscle in his legs and arms. Hob knew he was staring, but for some reason he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the man. It was only when his hands landed on the man’s cock that he jerked his gaze upwards, and instead of disgust, he found the were-panther actually looked pleased at Hob’s obvious leering. 

“My name is Dream,” the were-panther introduces himself with a smirk.

“You certainly are,” Hob replies then slaps a hand over his mouth. “I mean—” 

God’s wounds, why had he said that? He was smoother than that! Had the vampire hunt really scrambled his brain that much? 

Before he can come up with an apology for his poor brain to mouth filter however, Hob hears a low, rumbling noise, and he belatedly realizes that Dream is purring.

“You are pleased with me,” Dream says, stepping closer into Hob’s personal space. “That is…good.” 

Hob suddenly smells his grandmother’s homemade bread and his favorite beer. He realizes quickly the delicious scent is coming from Dream, and before his brain can tell him otherwise, he pulls the pale man in a desperate, teeth clacking kiss.

Dream moans into his mouth and pushes Hob down into the grass in the clearing, grinding his hips down on Hob’s rapidly hardening cock. He growls and tugs angrily at Hob’s jeans, and Hob quickly works at shucking them off before the were-panther could tear them clean off. Now that would be embarrassing to explain to the rest of the hunters. 

It isn’t long before Hob’s completely naked underneath Dream and it feels absolutely amazing and right the way their bodies fit against one another. Dream’s cock is a pleasant weight against Hob’s own as he strokes them together, pleasure building higher and higher with each needy whine and moan shared between them. 

“That’s right, love,” Hob pants, increasing the speed of his strokes when he realizes he’s close. “I’m so close, I wanna come with you, come on—”

Dream wails as his orgasm hits him, and then there’s a sharp pain in Hob’s shoulder when his own orgasm follows shortly after. His brain blearily registers that Dream’s bitten down on him, and though there’s some part of him that knows he should be alarmed by that, his body is too blissed out from the earth shattering orgasm his just experienced to care.

“Mine,” Dream mumbles, licking at the new mark on Hob’s shoulder and snuggling into his chest. “My mate.” 

Ah, fuck, Hob thinks as he drifts off to sleep, wrapping his arms protectively around Dream. Johanna was absolutely going to skin him over this.

[dwindlinghaze]

hiii lovely congrats on 500 you deserve it and so much more!! i wanna request 🩰 dancing princesses for marauders bc i want to know who someone else would ship me with for once hahah

so my gender preference is male, i love reading (especially murder mysteries, historical fiction and romcoms), i love the mcu and i've watched pretty much all of marvel movies, most of them even twice, three or more times. i'm slightly socially awkward, but i have a close knit group of friends who i'm extremely extroverted around. i'm a math and economics girl, and i love history. i'm super delusional. i'm hindu. i absolutely love travelling, my favourite places i've been to being rome, london and dubai. i'm 5'4, closer to 5'5, i have kind of golden skin and a slightly chubby face. my love languages are terms of endearment, words of affection and physical touch.

thank you!! if you can do this, that would be great! if not, that's okay too don't put too much on your plate lovely<3

helloo 🫧🤍 thank you sm for participating in my 500 celebration

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

🩰 : i ship you with james potter

╰┈➤ i think james is into murder mysteries. once he played a game of solving a murder case with the marauders and asked you for help, knowing that you must be so much better than them in the field.

╰┈➤ he'd also ask you a million question after you've finished a novel of a murder case.

"wait wait- hold on, so the brother of the man was the one getting arrested because the other guy who is supposedly the man's friend framed him? for money?" he asked bewildered, pointing his fingers in every direction accusingly in the air. "well- not exactly," you laughed and shook your head. it was a task to tell him stories because he tend to pull conclusions way too fast. it's funny though.

╰┈➤ james didn't know anything about the mcu at first before you mentioned how big of a fan you are to him. you like to tell james about the background of each avengers but it was all too confusing for him, though he's invested after watching the avengers with you. you were showing him every marvel movie in its chronological order.

he never shuts up about the modern technologies in the film. "look at that! that's so cool if you ask me. the avengers tower is absolutely ahead of time, i mean- who would ever thought about making that!" he rambled. "i know right? i want to know what's your favourite character," you questioned him. "maybe pietro maximoff?" he shrugged. (jk i don't know which one he'd like but pietro it is because yes;))

╰┈➤ when he first saw you in the light of day? he's absolutely infatuated by how beautiful you were; your skin glows golden under the sunlight. he's all over you, words falling off of his lips about how beautiful you are with his arms firmly circled around your waist.

"have i mentioned how stunning you look?" he said in awe as he watched you doing basically nothing. "thank you," you thanked him with a smile and a small kiss. his arm dropped down to your level in order for him to place his warm hand over the small of your back, rubbing them gently.

╰┈➤ travelling with him during holiday breaks to all the places you want to visit !!

"pack your bags honey 'cause we're going to rome!" he announced on a normal thursday afternoon. you were just finishing up your last bit of work and was taken aback by his surprise. "since uh- when? i mean when?" your eyes widened in disbelief yet a glint of anticipation can't be unseen. "i know you're free next week so next week," he grinned. "i've already bought tickets and booked a hotel."

╰┈➤ once you're sure the relationship is serious and committed, you will introduce him to your close friends! james loves the positive energy together with how full of joy you were around your group of friends. it makes him extremely happy being surrounded with the people you love and love you.

╰┈➤ just imagine celebrating hindu festivals with him !! he would be in awe of every single thing.

╰┈➤ james' love language is definitely words of affirmation. he loves expressing his feelings by words. sometimes they're extremely cheesy and mortifying but at the end of the day, you both know that he means well and that it's all true.

[angela-hartbreak]

October Vogue Review

{Note, how I do my Vogue reviews is that I don't really talk about every single picture or article I just love talking about standouts<3 please don't be mad if I didn't mention YOUR favorite picture, also I try to give both positive and negative but I HATEE BEING MEAN}

First off, as a Lady Gaga lover (Little monster here <3) UHH the cover is just lovely. I love anything this woman puts out. Also FUR!!!!! UGH TO DIE FOR. maybe it's feathers but 99.99% sure Miss Gaga was wearing some kinda fur in this!

Bella Hadid is looking STUNNING for Saint Laurent, maybe I'm biased because I am a true sucker for lace and leather together {wearing that combo rn lmao accidentally twinning} but overall in love. also petition for making black-on-black a thing again.

Again as I have been seeing--kitten heels galore.

Ok when I say I was gagged for Giorgio Armani I WAS GAGGED. LIKE almost dropped my latte. Don't ask why ok usually I hate clear shoes but just the way that this is photographed has me STUNNED still--ew clear shoes. And I love any black and blue combo.

I loved the Gabrielle perfume scent from chanel--would I buy it?? Maybe idk I have 3 perfume shelves as we speak.

I keep on seeing way more black outfits and I'm so thrilled, my fav example of this this issue was maybe the middle lady of MaxMara..... And I'm honestly shocked to say this because I'm a Michael kors hater until I die but that picture is looking gorgeous hun

Negative time. The ugg boots looked really ugly I'm sorry. I have a love-hate relationship with uggs but I just don't like this heavy platform I just don't think it looks good. Also not a huge fan of the dolce & Gabbana devotion Eau de parfum intense scent, such a shame I have been eyeing up this bottle for so so long and was honestly thinking about buying a bottle but honestly I just don't think it's worth it for me personally it's just not something I would wear everyday.

Tom Ford's eyewears little gold T's just being perfect

"Age on the runway" was just a sweet little read I genuinely enjoyed.

I personally kind of rediscovered my love of blush after finding out about the whole red blush trick used by the Victoria's secret angels but the coming up Rosy article just kind of just secured my love of it again and I finally am using blush again for like the first time in months.

The second Erdem releases this flower handle bag I might just need to snatch one up-- because this is like the first time I've genuinely like wanted a handbag becides my beloved coach I've been religiously using.

Odissi's pictures are gorgeous {I might have accidentally forced all of my non-vogue reading friends to look at it (they were hella confused) while I was in love}

I can't tell if I'm supposed to hate guess or not with all of these STUNNING STUNNING PICTURES 🤍🤍

Okay so Michael kors new pour femme perfume actually smells pretty good {I'm doing a very bad job at hating Michael kors right here} and the pour homme one smells like every other cologne ever I'm sorry.

Honestly I'm not really invested in any of these books this month in the section but maybe the night we lost him would actually be something I would pick up the rest of them I'm honestly not that intrigued by which is kind of heartbreaking for me because I usually love the book section of Vogue

Okay Lady Gaga's article--BASICALLY THE WHOLE REASON WHY I BOUGHT THIS MONTH'S ISSUE as fast as I could get my hands on it. The shape shifter part is so real and you know damn well I tried my hardest to look at all the looks brought up in this one because well MISS GAGA IS THE LOML. and I'm so so so happy she found someone I hope the very best for them both ahhh also her saying "I'm not ready to meet my husband" HAD ME on the floor.

I am a sucker for decades--so obviously I was obsessed with the article and the pictures for on with the shows. My favorite pictures were the 60's and the 80's personally. As someone who generally likes 2000s fashion personally I just wasn't the biggest fan of the picture for it no hate to anyone in the picture just wasn't my taste.

OK OK I WAS SO HAPPY FOR THE FALSE FRENCH CHIC GIRL THING ON PAGE 158 BECAUSE THIS IS LITERALLY THE REASON WHY I BOUGHT VOGUE LIKE OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS. I love the giant sunglasses with the cute little Veronica de piante jacket and I love any chanel two tones shoe. Also can we please just bring back cameras?? Like just physical cameras because oh my God their so cute and chic.

IN GENERAL 8.7/10 ISSUE HERE. Please feel free to disagree or share your own opinions down below I LOVE YAPPING ABOUT VOGUE

Xxx Angela Hartbreak

[shadowwolflady]

Hawks Headcanons

Relationships

Alright, be prepared for broken hearts. Also, happy birthday to the baby boy!

Hawks in a Relationship

Hawks would like a relationship but is too busy to invest in one.

He would feel like he would be neglecting the other with his work and the commission. Even if that person were to work alongside him. So, eventually, he might settle down once he figures stuff out.

Hawks would rather keep his relationship under wraps.

Yes, it would be cute to go out on dates and PDA. But there would be a considerable target on the other’s back. Plus, he would constantly worry about them over others. For instance, if the person had a small quirk that couldn’t help them out of a paper bag with a flashlight and map, he would have to be on them or his sidekicks be on them constantly, monitoring them. Because they would be easy pickings for villains and the commission.

He wants someone whom he doesn’t have to worry about constantly.

Someone who is independent. A safety quirk would be a nice bonus or something that can get them out of trouble in a pinch like a teleportation quirk or barrier quirk.

Targets on the SO’s back. Need I say more?

The commission.

The commission wants to keep Hawks' public image of a bachelor and their star child. Having a significant other would dampen that image and make him less appealing. It also would make the SO a target when on missions. This would cause security to be stretched thin. Basically, more work. So, NO relationships.

If Hawks does have a relationship. The commission would know. They always know.

Keeping his relationship a secret is a hassle, but it is better than having people hounding him and his SO, including paparazzi.

Honestly, the fewer people poking their noses into his life the better. So, the fewer people that know about it the better.

The relationship would be known by a small close-knit group of people he can trust. Probably only counting on one hand how many know about them to keep secrets safe.

In a relationship

When in a relationship, he is a little clingy.

He loves doting on you.

Checking in, somewhat annoyingly. He will drop off food, and make sure you’re okay. You basically help get him motivated to live.

He looks forward to seeing you and checking in on you. It’s his new favorite job.

He loves listening to you. He would listen to you talk for hours.

Anything you find interesting he will research and look into it in order to understand it better.

He loves just being in your company.

You don’t need to talk. Sitting on the couch or having a cup of coffee is a perfect pastime. Even watching a movie or reading a book with each other is perfect.

He loves laying on the couch with his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. It lulls him to sleep. Hawks gets cuddly and clingy; he just flops on top of you on the couch and buries his head into your chest. He loves falling asleep on your chest, using your chest as a pillow. Your heartbeat also helps to relax him and allows him to fall asleep.

He has a special nickname for you outside of the usual bird ones.

This one is special for you because of either your quirk or what he fondly refers to you as and ONLY YOURS!

For those afraid of heights... Hawks won’t fly you anywhere unless you specifically ask. Especially for dates. He would rather walk through a park with you, hand and hand, watch the sunset, stare at the stars, or go to a bookstore.

For gifts, though he has a lot of money, he would rather get you meaningful small things like a scarf, mug, or sweater, something you would use in everyday life that would remind you of him. He may splurge and get you the next book in a series though. He is not above going for fancy things but prefers modest and useful.

Hawks would rather do quiet simple dates, like a coffee shop, a book store, hand and hand through the park, watching the stars, sunset, and sunrise, or going on patrols together. Sitting on the couch with takeout or pizza and watching a series or movie. All of these are perfect for him.

This vs fancy high-end dinners or parties. He doesn’t like to be in the limelight for long. He will tolerate it, but the chance he gets to escape he will make it. He would rather be on the down low.

What Hawks looks for in a partner

Loyalty is the biggest one, he needs to know his partner is faithful to him once they establish a relationship and that they aren’t going to cheat on him. This is different than before. Usually, he was open and did brief one-night stands, mostly with women. But once in a relationship, he is extremely loyal.

Respect is another. Respecting each other is huge. Both need to understand that each other is their own being and has their own agenda and life. They need to respect each other’s space and belongings and feelings.

Trust. Trusting each other. Mainly trusting each other with things and coming home. To trust with emotions and hearts. To trust them to not go blabbing to others about vulnerable situations. Trusting each other to do the right thing. To have each other’s backs.

Independence. He doesn’t want someone who is constantly relying on him to be home every night at 5 pm for dinner. He wants someone who is flexible and 100% confident in themselves to know it is his job that is keeping him away and not other things.

Flexibility. They need to be all right with him not coming home on time or waking them up in the middle of the night. Or not coming home at all.

Attitude. Not a bratty attitude, but enough to be able to say NO to him. There are too many YES people in his life. And too many people throw themselves at him and he doesn’t necessarily like that. He wants someone with an opinion.

A challenge. He loves puzzles. He wants to figure his partner out and explore with them. So being a bit of a mystery is fun for him.

Understanding. They need to understand and know his background if he ever divulges it. They need to understand that the commission raised him to be hypervigilant and to constantly question motives.

Patience. Patience is huge. Sometimes he can’t say things as much as he wishes he could. Sometimes he comes home ragged from missions and just needs to decompress. He needs to just sit and exist. Sitting by his side is more than enough.

He wants someone with a bit of a brain on them. They don’t need to be Einstein, but have some common sense and smarts.

Mental fortitude helps as well. They need to be able to handle the stress and psychological impact of his job. They also need to know that he shuts down sometimes and needs to recharge. He can get irritable during these times. He needs them to know he doesn’t mean to snap at them when it happens, it’s his frustration and tiredness acting out.

For women, on your period? He will get you your things! He remembers reading about menstrual cycles, but never really paid any attention to them until meeting you. He now knows what you like and don’t like during this time. He knows tips and tricks to help relieve cramps. Accidentally stain something? No problem! He will help you change sheets or clothes.

Yes, he is a good boyfriend. Besides him bringing home fast food almost every other night and forgetting things. He's a good egg. I think I'll keep him.

Also, may shamelessly plug my fanfic in here of my OC....

[soulscrying]

xiao - character study #1:

trauma reposted from old blog

I. THE SIGHT OF BLOOD IS A COMFORT.

It leaks onto the ground from — he isn’t sure where, exactly, other than it’s from him, from his broken body, his battered body. Everything aches. Everything bleeds. He is skin and bones and blood.

His eyes squint at the pool of blood he’s been stewing in. The color is dark, almost black. But he knows it’s blood — recognizes it even when he can’t recall his name.

He remembers that Teyvat is vastly unexplored still. That much is apparent as he marvels at the untrimmed grass, the silence that hangs limp in the air. Consider a landscape painting — unblemished, untainted by humanity. It’s as if he had been rendered into one as an afterthought, or perhaps as a mistake.

He remembers that there currently exists three major nations — one of contracts, one of freedom, one of eternity. The boundaries are roughly definable. They’re further classified by element — geo, anemo, and electro respectively. Relations amongst them all are civil. Somewhat.

He remembers that density and altitude have an inverse relationship. The atmosphere thins — falters — the higher up you are, barely held together by gravity and its whims. He remembers the sensation of soaring, then of falling, even when he has yet to take flight. He remembers the connection, the way he felt bound to them, but he can’t remember his name, can’t remember where he’s from, can’t remember what he’s done to deserve lying on the ground he suddenly hated, bleeding.

II. SIX HUNDRED YEARS LATER, AND HIS HANDS ARE STILL BLOOD STAINED.

At first, he washes them almost obsessively. But whenever he looks down, he sees the blood under his nails, sees drops crusted on his fingers. No matter how hard he scrubs, the blood stays, the blood stays.

He invests in a pair of gloves — handmakes them, actually. They’re dark and sensible, and they do not reek of blood. And while he’s a creature of habit, he is also a fast learner … he’s careful never to go about his day without them on. In combat, in between snacks, in the midst of his meditation regimen, he tugs at the cuffs so that they cover his lower arms.

III. THERE ALWAYS SEEMED TO BE A WOMAN LOITERING AT THE ENTRANCE OF WANGSHU INN.

Hair in an updo, bold eye makeup. A mile-long black dress, a nice one, an expensive one. He tells himself, she’s probably the companion of someone who lives here. He tells himself, this has nothing to do with me. He tells himself, stop looking.

But the woman in the black dress is familiar in all the ways he knows she shouldn’t be. The woman in the black dress is familiar in all the ways he can’t put a name to, not yet.

He prays they never meet, or at least not in her lifetime.

IV. “I HAVE REASON TO BELIEVE THAT THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME — WITH MY BRAIN.”

Zhongli stares at him. His eyes are large, dark. There are no bags under them, not like a human’s. Xiao's memories are hazy but he attests to bags weighing most of their eyes down like ink.

Wanmin Restaurant hums with quiet conversation. He clutches the roll of bread in his hand a little too tightly. It crumples into bits on his plate.

“I can … I can only remember some things,” he continues. “And even those things leave much to be desired.” He stares down at his ungloved hands — at the red skin around his nails, the blood he swears is still there. “May I ask you to heal me?” His gaze then shoots up, half hopeful.

“It is beyond my power to fix memories, especially in this body.” Zhongli retrieves his cup of osmanthus tea, the steam curling in the air. He dips his head to take a sip, eyes never leaving his. “Of course, I can check if there are any lingering injuries from…what happened to you. I can also pay the pharmacy a visit to see if there is any remedy there worth trying.” He pauses, perhaps for a beat too long. “But unfortunately, I don’t think it will amount to much. It’s most likely trauma.”

“Trauma affects the brain. If you heal my brain, you fix the trauma … right?”

Whatever hope had gleaned his eyes disappeared when Zhongli hesitated a second time. This time he doesn’t look up from his hands, not wishing to check if there is any change to the archon’s expression. Pity from him would be worse than any lasting brain damage.

V. THE WOMAN IN THE BLACK DRESS WAVES HIM OVER TODAY.

He has to wonder how she’s able to see him from his rooftop perch, let alone acknowledge him. Bile rises in his throat as he descends onto the balcony below him. He balls both of his hands, fingers clenching a fistful of his gloves.

As he’s drawing away from the balcony, he sees her again … only closer this time.

Now, the woman is within earshot. Within reach.

His stomach drops. His throat dries.

Yet his fingers burn with an urgency. While he is unmoving, they are scheming and simmering — bent on shedding that damned fabric he’d clung onto like a lifeline.

The smile on her face does little to coax the twitch in his fingers. He blinks his eyes closed for one second, two seconds … his nails dig into the palms of his hands. At six seconds, he can feel a growing sharpness graze his skin.

With bated breath, he forces his eyes back open.

He looks up.

The woman in the black dress is gone.

He looks back down.

There, in the palm of his hand — a rip spanning the fabric of his glove.

There, pooling at the rip and marring the exposed skin — a ripe red, a free flowing red,

An unnerving, uncomfortable sight.

[sabineelectricheart]

Secret Relationship Blown

Summary: Chad does not want for people to know he is dating someone, but when a guy makes a move on Barbara, he has other concerns.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 1100

Notes: I think Chad would admire intelligent people. Not stuffy academics or nerds, but that kind of understated cleverness that is shown in polite conversation, that sort of understanding of the world.

It is finally springtime in Sugardale.

The end of the school year swung in with the looming promise of well-deserved vacations and great change to come, as it always did. Some would graduate and leave, some would become the new leaders of the clubs and fraternities, and there would come another batch of pledges. It is hard to escape the whole sentimentality of the season.

According to most of the student body, and a few sections of the faculty, this is the perfect time to throw a party, and the Investments Club is not one to stay behind with such matters. They set up a rave in their large club house, inviting every member and their roommates and girlfriends, and eventually what seemed the entire population of the town showed up. Word spread like wildfire when it came to a blow out of theirs, as it is guaranteed to be the hottest place to be in any given night.

Chad scanned the room for you, not worried about being obvious, as there is little point to hide anything. Bryce was with Trish, and they were wrapped around their usual drama, having April hanging around, senselessly trying to referee the petty dispute, his football teammates and fellow Investment Club associates are scattered around, too busy with either hoping to bag a new conquest or get some old one to put out, and everyone else was too drunk with the better quality of alcohol they were offering for the occasion.

Then his eyes found her, Barbara Hylton, his date for the night, and he realised that they could not leave anymore. She still is the most beautiful, intelligent and awe-inspiring person he had ever seen, even if he keeps it to himself to save face. His jaw still dropped at the sight of her after the best part of seven months, and he does not think it will stop any time soon.

It took every single ounce of energy from every bone in his large body to not walk up to her and shower her with the millions of compliments springing to his mind, some not as wholesome and civil as others. Alas, he could not, and that is mostly on him.

He had suggested that they kept their little dalliance, as she puts it, between them, as not to make a big deal of it, because, as ashamed as he may be for admitting it, he does not want people to know that he is dating anyone, least of all someone like her.

Though, much to his own chagrin, she promptly agreed to his suggestion. She is a scholarship student, after all, and she is in the club which he manages, a club which is very exclusive, catered to legacy members, and with a selective membership process she has not found herself subjected through. It could be assumed that he had something to do with it, and that may lead to circumstances which threaten the continuity of her student support.

Chad was readying himself to keep control and greet Barbara regularly, like a proper vice-president would to one of its female members. He is often reminded of his etiquette whenever he interacts with her, as he gets nervous and acts ceremoniously to avoid suspicion or back-talking.

It was when his eye caught some student that he does not recognize approaching her for a conversation. He decided to wait until they were done talking to go and greet her for the first time that evening.

The drink he was holding almost spilled in his grip when Chad realised that the little bastard was not just talking to his girlfriend, he was touching her, too. Not a friendly shoulder nudge, not a drunken knock, not a brotherly poke. No, the guy was attempting to slip an arm around her shoulder, trying to make her laugh and lean into him.

He cracks his knuckles. Someone is going to be sporting a black eye tomorrow morning.

The burly man focuses his attention on Barbara, to see whether she is welcoming the guy’s advances or rejecting him, to see how much force he is putting in his first punch. He notes, with satisfaction, that she is not responding to the pathetic advance. Instead, she stood stiffly, gripping her drink as tight as he was gripping his.

She gave the drunk guy a restrained smile, eyes searching the room. She swept her gaze across the crowd, desperately trying to locate Chad as she shifted away from her interlocutor. The lipstick, carefully selected and applied to match her outfit, was starting to stretch with the polite expression she forced.

She did not want to upset the man too much. Firstly, because one can never know what men will do in these situations, but also because he has not treated her with any disrespect. There was nothing wrong with him, aside from the ebriety, but she simply is not interested in anyone else.

"Look, I’m sorry, but I, erm, I'm seeing someone at the moment." The woman said, trying to extricate herself out of the situation.

Barbara craned her neck to the right and locked stares with Chad, silently pleading for him to come over.

The drunk man chuckled. "And he left you all alone at this party? That’s very shitty of him. Don't you want to dance with someone?"

She laughed awkwardly, relieved to see her date appear in front of them.

"I didn't leave her alone. Off you go." Chad threatens, baring his teeth.

The guy spluttered, surprised at the sudden appearance of the tall and strong football captain. "Chad! I-I didn’t…! Sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn't…"

Chad smirked, looping his own arm around Barbara as the other man promptly removed his. He does not reply to the stammering, leading her away instead as she leaned into his side.

"Thanks, C. You saved me out there. Where we going now?" She asks, as they go out the door.

"Just out for a breather." He responded, both curt and airily.

As it turned out, the so-called breather was at his bedroom in the frat house and it did not involve breathing so much as fast paced making out.

The hot and savage kissing left her lips tingling and parted with the gloss smeared on the side. With a giggle, she realised there was a shiny pink tinge to her boyfriend’s ones as well.

Chad smiled down at the woman, whom he locks underneath him with his strong arms. "Do you think that we blew our cover?"

Barbara laughed breathlessly. "Yeah, we probably did."

“Good.” He responded hoarsely.

*_*_*_*_*

College Craze Masterlist

[minkieater]

one dream, one city, two boys, endless possibilities ✮

ONE ➺ the city masterlist | next as a junior at NYU, you just landed your dream internship. you didn't think a shot at your career would come with secrets, mistakes, and drama... at what age do you really start to grow up?

it's that time - my series is here!! my babies!! my friends!! hope everyone enjoys, all of our friends from luck, carousel, and three fates are here!

w. alcohol consumption, relationship issues, a bunch of fucked up college kids doing fucked up college kid shit MDNI 18+ wc. ~12k

♩— the city, the 1975  “yeah, you wanna find love then you know where the city is.”

after five long hours of drowning in some sort of painful claustrophobia you finally peeled your headphones off your ears, immediately taking a hand up to your ear to soothe your cartilage piercings that still haven’t healed after years of having them. 

past eleven, it was far later than when you should’ve left. you told yourself you’d only spend an hour in the studio tonight, but that thought was long gone after the first hour of being in the leather chair, especially after the first frustrating ten listens of your most recent project. with a tch you rip your hard drive out of the system and pack up, with all intentions of heading out to catch the train back to your apartment across manhattan.

11:21 pm wooyo: come out of your cave and come to prince wooyo: its friday

you yawn, rubbing your eyes vigorously — you need to invest in a pair of blue light glasses. pulling your bag over your shoulder, you respond with a quick ‘be there in 20’.

as you turn to pull the door open, someone else opens it from the other side, “oh shit, my bad.”

a small sound of shock left your lips, feet nearly leaving the ground in panic. your eyes cross the possible perpetrator, the man is massive and his voice is deep. you froze for a moment, arm still held out in front of you to open the door, stuck somewhere between fight or flight. you snap it back to join your other hand in holding the strap that hugged your shoulder. 

“i didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckles, ring-clad fingers jutting out in apology, “i didn’t think anyone else would be here this late.” you almost shudder at the deep rasp to his voice, eyes shifting to his oversized hoodie, baseball cap tucked under the hood, paired with baggy jeans that overflowed his seemingly new sneakers. 

“i was just leaving anyway,” you try to sound nonchalant but your voice gives you away, sounding quiet, small and embarrassed. your whole face feels hot as you maneuver around him and out the door, basically running down the dimly lit hallway. 

as you stepped out of the double doors of your school’s recording studios, you gave yourself a moment, head dropping backward. staring into the starless sky, you take a deep, controlled breath. you let the air fill your lungs, let it slow your heart rate, panic gradually leaving you with every exhale. when you needed an escape, a moment to yourself, something to ground you when your mind felt too much to handle, you could always count on staring up at new york city’s perpetually void sky. 

you shouldn’t find comfort in decades of pollution masking the stars, something you missed so much from home, maybe the thing you missed most. but that could be the comfort in it, something so different, still feeling so new after living in the city for two years. change is what you craved, what you needed, it’s why you chose to go to NYU in the first place. coming from a small town in the midwest, you knew early that your dream of being a music producer couldn’t happen there. you’ve known that since you were fifteen, when you made the plan to move to the city of dreams in the first place. 

but yet in times like these, when you need a moment of staring up at the sky, you miss the stars staring back down at you. 

you shake your head and get to walking — the walk would be more like 25 rather than 20, but knowing wooyoung, he wouldn’t see your text for another 15 anyhow. you pulled your bag a bit tighter on your shoulders and kept the headphones off for your walk, giving your ears a much needed break. 

“there she is!” wooyoung’s voice is booming, louder than the heavy music the bar is playing, and yunho waves over to you from beside him. he hands you a beer as you sit with the two, hoping to take the edge off the last five hours, but all you can think of is the project you left unfinished. 

“…you’re working on your senior thesis already?” wooyoung’s eyebrows are raised, gaping at yunho, “the semester’s barely started!” 

“do you know how long it’ll take me to research?” yunho responds, bringing his bottle up to his lips, “i’m studying how the internet has changed the music industry, i need to start now.”

“you both are so dedicated,” wooyoung’s words spill out in a whine as his hands cover his face, “i still don’t even know if i really want to major in film.” 

“you have plenty of time to figure your shit out, woo,” you smile, patting his shoulder. you swear wooyoung has been the same carefree, partying college boy since he walked into his dorm on the first day. like yunho, he’s been dragging you out of your books and your projects to live a little since you met freshman year.

“what had you trapped all night?” yunho turns his attention to you. the bar stool is uncomfortable under you, making you shift your legs up to the higher bar, “another project?” 

you huff out a sigh, “for my EMP class.” 

“ah, EMP,” yunho nods and flips his phone face up, checking his notifications, “oh shit, joong and mingi are stopping by.”

you raise an eyebrow and wooyoung smiles, “damn, i haven’t seen them since that one night at jeongin’s!” 

“who are these people again?” you question, fingers mindlessly peeling at the label on your beer bottle, watching the tattoos littering your fingers stretch under the movement. 

“they’ve only been on the roof a few times i think, they know chan,” wooyoung nods like you should know this already. you typically did know almost everyone who came to your boyfriend’s infamous rooftop parties, but it makes sense for one or two people to slip past you every now and then. they usually end up being friends of your boyfriend’s three roommates, chan, felix, and seungmin.

“they’re both in the same major as you. i would’ve thought that you’ve had classes together, but they’re older than you, i guess,” yunho shrugs.

“you’re older than me,” you counter with a look to prove it, bringing your beer to your lips.

the three of you met in your freshman year, taking the same film scoring sound design class, where somehow your degrees overlapped. where you went to study music technology, wooyoung, a junior like you, studied film production, and yunho, a senior, studied music history. 

minutes later wooyoung is waving over two guys you’ve never seen before, a tall one and another shorter one. your eyes squint in focus before they nearly burst out of your head in shock. realization hits you and your body burns in embarrassment, your heart becoming alarmingly loud in your chest. 

they stop at the bar and you quickly explain your situation with the tall one to your friends. wooyoung’s head leans back as a fit of laughter consumes him and yunho’s signature smile that only appears at someone else’s expense comes into view.

“that’s right,” yunho nods in remembrance, “you both are always cooped up in that damn studio, you sure you’ve never met him before?” 

you quickly shake your head as you notice them approaching, pushing your discomfort to the back of your head, trying to seem like you haven’t noticed their arrival.

“god, this place never changes,” the smaller one is shaking his head as the two of them stand around the table, setting his drink down on the stained wood.

“that’s it’s charm,” yunho responds as he raises his hand, “how you been joong?” 

they all take turns dapping each other up as you sit quietly, observing, until the two pairs of eyes turn to you. the taller one introduces himself as mingi, the smaller one hongjoong. 

“hey, didn’t i just see you?” mingi’s eyebrows furrow as if his eyes were tricking him, “you go to NYU right?” his finger points to you, one of his eyebrows lifting in question. wooyoung and yunho immediately turn to you, amusement written all over their faces.

you could feel the heat from the tips of your ears as you nod, “ki, i’m a junior, music tech major.” 

“no way! we’re tech majors too,” he smiles, pulling his beer to his lips and turning back to yunho, “yun, how’s the thesis been?” 

the rest of the night was spent with you mainly being quiet, observing and listening to them converse. you’d only asked a few questions, added input when you felt necessary, and laughed when the situation called for it. your discomfort from earlier eased to some degree by the end of the night, but you felt like the majority of your time at prince was spent on auto-pilot.

mingi and hongjoong shared little about themselves, but you picked up on a few things throughout the night. they’re both seniors at NYU, studying music technology like you. they’ve also been interning for the same record label since the end of their junior year, both hoping to land a permanent position at the label before the end of their senior year. 

yunho and mingi have been friends since they were young, both attending the same high school and moving to new york city just after they graduated. hongjoong is born and raised in new york, you could tell as much from his accent, but met mingi his freshman year in one of their classes and they’ve been close since. 

where mingi was more quiet and reserved, hongjoong was talkative, easily dominating the conversation. he was loud about it, too. with eyeliner, a shaggy mullet and multiple ear piercings, hongjoong seemed anything but sweet off first glance. but the second he smiled paired with the sweet, melodious laugh that left his lips, you knew his appearance had nothing to do with his personality. something you should know by now in the creative department of NYU.

by the end of the night your social battery was below zero. your goodbyes to your new and old friends were quick, exhausted from your hours spent in the studio and the beers did nothing but tire you more. by the time you were back in your apartment, another 20 minute walk from prince, you’d hoped and prayed your roommate was sound asleep. you couldn’t bear another word out of your mouth.

in the shower you were playing the night back in your head like a movie, and you swore the weight of uneasiness didn’t fully leave you until you were settled in bed. trying to distract yourself by turning on the tv, your mind drifts once more, but instead of your project it was your new acquaintances, your seniors, two people you could learn so much from… it didn’t take long for your brain to empty itself and sleep to consume you.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“are you coming this friday?” your boyfriend asks, and you can hear the impatience in his voice, no doubt he’s feeling neglected after your busy week. 

“i don’t think so, i still have so much to do on this fucking song. it’s missing something still and i can’t figure it out,” you huff, running a hand through your hair. 

“that’s okay, i understand, what about tonight? you gonna be there late?” 

“i think so, i’m sorry, i’m so stressed i think i’m just gonna go home and crash.” 

“please, baby? every night this week you’ve been there and you’re always too tired to come over after,” he’s whining over the phone now, and your eye literally twitches as he speaks.

“jeongin, i need to get this done, i don’t know what else to tell you,” you snap as your fingers come up to the bridge of your nose, placing your elbow on the desk, “you have a key to my place, use it.” 

“is riley home? i don’t want to just show up unannounced, what if san’s there?”

you sigh, “we’ve been together for two years innie, and she’s known you longer than i have. i’m sure she’ll be happy to see you even if san is there. i’m almost done, i’ll be home soon, okay?” you lean back in the chair, eyes closing, bringing your free hand to rub at your mascara-less eyes. 

“okay! i’ll pick us up something to eat, what do you want?” your eyebrows furrow in frustration and you open your eyes to look down at the monitor again. all you can see is unfinished work, and your stress level goes through the roof. 

you take the phone off your ear and let a breath of frustration out before answering, “whatever you want. i’ll see you soon, love you,” you waited for him to say it back before you hung up the phone. you set it face down on the desk, bringing your headphones back over your ears, planning to finish up some last tweaks before you went back home for the night. 

the first day of your freshman year you walked into your cramped dorm room and were met with the human embodiment of new york. she was the perfect introduction to the city, the smallest yet loudest bundle of sunshine you’d ever encountered, a born and raised city girl. riley was a few inches over five feet, kind pale eyes and long dark waves framing her pretty face. lucky for you, she came with a built in friend group. 

jeongin, felix, chan, and seungmin, four guys who had moved to the city right after they graduated high school. the four of them had met riley randomly at a rock concert over the summer,  enamored by the fact that she’s a local and also majoring in theatre at NYU in the fall. they were quick to friendship, riley and the four boys, until you were introduced. 

from the first conversation you had with the four, your friendship fell right into place. it felt like you had known them your whole life. all four of them were funny, kind, accepting, and the best of all, gorgeous. the first time you saw jeongin you could attest that love at first sight is a real phenomenon. it didn’t take long after you guys had met for you to start dating, he was something out of your dreams. kind, respectful, funny, doting, he checked off every box on your 18 year old list. 

for being together nearly two years, at this point he is a true extension of you. you lived at his place half the time, you were always out in the city together, in the middle of washington square park on picnic dates, your relationship was movie-esque. everyone who knew you, knew jeongin, and vice versa. 

you didn’t hear anyone come in, and you sure as hell didn’t expect anyone to interrupt your focus as you felt a small tap on your shoulder. ripping your headphones off isn’t an understatement as you shriek, terror and surprise rushing through you like electricity. 

he can’t help but engulf himself in a fit of laughter while your eyebrows disappear into your hairline, your mouth agape as you clutch your thrashing heart over your hoodie. 

“mingi! jesus christ, are you gonna scare the shit out of me every time you’re here?” you bark out, breath heavy and unstable, irritation clear in your voice.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i knocked but you didn’t hear. didn’t know how else to interrupt,” he counters, still smiling, waving his hands in apology.

“did you not see the red light for in use outside the door?” you ignore the amused smile across his face, still clutching your heart as if it’d burst out of your chest if you didn’t. 

“i did, i took a peek to see if you’d be in here again,” he shrugs, “it’s late and you’re in the same room as the other day, i was curious.”

your expression softens, and you ignore the sweat that was quick to form in your palms. “oh,” you mutter, so quiet it was almost inaudible, “well here i am.” 

a small smile sits on his face as he moves closer, peering over your shoulder to look at the monitor, “what’s this?”

“a project for my EMP class, did you take it?” you shift your focus to your monitor again, joining him in overlooking your project.

he nods and turns to pull up another chair from beside the desk, “last year, what professor?” 

you curse your cheeks as they heat up on their own, “lee.” 

he makes a disappointed face, his lips thinning into a line, “that’s unfortunate.” he nods his chin to the monitor, “let me hear what you’ve got.” 

“it’s not even close to being finished,” you argue, the familiar heat at the tips of your ears joining your cheeks in competition of which can expose your embarrassment first. 

he shakes his head, “don’t care.” not even entertaining your argument, he reaches for the headphones that are placed around your neck. 

you clutch onto them quickly and he halts his movement, looking up at you, startled at your reflex. “damn, give me a second,” you say with a quick laugh, pulling the headphones from around your neck and handing them to him.

you press play and his head nods to the beat as he listens, his eyebrows furrowed again, this time in focus. you take a moment to really take in his appearance — full lips, short, black and blonde ruffled up hair, a perfectly straight nose… you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. 

he takes the headphones off as the song finishes, snapping you back to reality. “it still needs some tweaks but it’s good, you’re probably at a B minus right now.”

your jaw drops, “tweaks? a B minus?”

he laughs, “i thought you said it wasn’t even close to being done yet? here, let me help,” he places a headphone up to his ear opposite of the side you’re sitting on, pressing buttons on the keyboard. “i like the synths, very atmospheric, but you’re missing depth,” he sucks a breath in through his teeth, “a deeper bass line, it needs to be more intense.” 

he plays with your song for some time, listening and nodding his head to the beat. you stare at him in his element with damn near stars in your eyes— your eyebrows are raised, mouth hung slightly open, you’re nothing short of in awe at this essentially random man, your senior who interns at a record label, helping you with your project. 

he makes a finishing nod as he hands your headphones back to you, ushering you to listen. his small tweaks changed your song entirely, no shot you weren’t getting an A now.

“lee is big on emotion, layering and harmonies and all that,” he says as you pull the headphone off your ear. 

you start, “mingi, i-“

he leans back, arms folded behind his head with a cocky smile, “i know, i know, you can’t thank me enough, i’m really good at what i do, thank you very much,” he’s joking when he cuts you off, but it’s so true it’s nauseating. he did in 20 minutes what would’ve taken you 2 days, the raw talent exuding off of him only makes you more curious.

you can appreciate the love he has for his craft, the craft you share. he seems to love it enough that he can pick apart your creation and put it back together better than you did in the first place. it makes you want to pick his brain, find out why he’s here, why he loves music, what he grew up listening to. 

“i was actually going to say undo everything you just did because it sounds like dog shit,” you deadpan, wiping the cocky smile right off his face, making the corners of your mouth lift up in amusement.

“that hurt my feelings,” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest instead.

you giggle, “can’t let you get too cocky.”

he chuckles, patting his thighs before he stands, “you still have to work on your use of effects, create more of a sense of urgency in the bridge. i’d say now you’re at an A minus though, couple more tweaks and you’re golden.” 

you nod, sitting up a bit straighter, “thank you, that was actually a huge help. i’ve been at this for almost a week now.” 

he heads toward the door and your brain is scrambling trying to figure out a way to get him to stay, or at least come back again soon. 

“you coming to chan’s this friday?” he beats you to it as he opens the door, peeking at you over his shoulder. 

you snap your head up at that, “uh, yeah, i’ll be there.”

the corners of his mouth turn up in a wide smile, “sweet, ill see you there then.” 

“thanks again!” heat rises to your cheeks as soon as the door shuts —  your palm slaps your forehead. at least jeongin will be happy that you’re coming friday. 

shit, jeongin! you already forgot about dinner. you quickly stood and yanked your hard drive out, quickly packing up your backpack to run to the subway station. you felt lighter right now than you had in a week, a newfound optimism taking over. 

you felt closer to finishing your project instead of being in the middle of it, you’re on more of a friendly basis with someone whom you share your craft, plus he’s more talented and experienced than you in it … it’s unknown territory for you since you didn’t have many friends in your major. 

your leg bounced the entire train ride home with a silly smile on your face, high off the adrenaline rush from the breakthrough. the train was surprisingly not packed, only a couple of people sharing the same car as you. it’s not usual for any subway car to be somewhat unoccupied, let alone peaceful in new york city. 

the adrenaline died down a fair amount in your walk from the station to your apartment, replaced with the comfort of your boyfriend and best friend waiting for you upstairs. 

the scent of oregano and fresh bread met you in the staircase, meaning pizza was waiting for you in the kitchen. as you made your way inside your apartment you found riley, san and jeongin standing around the counter in the midst of conversation. you set your backpack down on the table to signal your arrival and the three turn their attention to you. 

“you’re finally home! what’s got you cheesing so hard?” riley asks, handing you a plate as you turn the corner to grab a piece of pizza. 

jeongin kisses your cheek twice as you open the box, “feeling better about the song?” 

“yeah, i had a major breakthrough, actually,” that same silly smile is still plastered across your face as you pull a piece out onto your plate. 

riley’s eyes thin, shooting you a questioning look as she takes a bite of her slice. she’s always been able to see through you, read between the lines, hear what you weren’t saying, see the mask you wore when you were hiding your feelings like it was physically there.

“then the pizza is celebratory, i just so happened to get your favorite kind from your favorite place,” jeongin smiles, bumping his hip with yours as you take a huge bite of the thankfully still hot pizza. pepperoni has always been your favorite, but the first time you had any pizza in new york your life changed for the better. everything in new york is better than it is at home.

you thank him the best you can with your mouth full, then give him a close lipped smile, hiding the food in your mouth. 

“we were just talking about the roof on friday,” riley starts, leaning against san’s sturdy build that impressed you every time you saw it, “you feel like going?” 

you pause for a moment remembering your promise to mingi, “i actually can now that i’m pretty much done with the song.”

“yes!” jeongin’s fists shoot for the sky, wide smile on his face, “it’s supposed to be a big one, chan got the whole soccer club to come.”

“just the club? not the violets?” san perked up, eyebrows raised in question.

“the violets are probably all busy, soccer season and football season already started,” riley waves her hand, “the clubs aren’t that serious.” 

“i think they’d be offended if they heard you say their season isn’t serious, baby,” san’s gaze turned downward to riley, a sparkle in his eyes that was too bright for two people just sleeping with each other. you made a mental note to unpack that, just as you had to discuss the night you had. 

“maybe if they didn’t get hammered on a random rooftop mid-season i'd be more likely to consider them serious,” riley’s hands lifted to her shoulders, eyebrows lifted in an oh well expression. 

“touché,” san responded through a yawn, voice sounding breathy and relaxed. riley immediately yawned after him, a somnolent sound paired with stretching her arms. 

riley and san shared a mirrored look, seeming to read each other’s minds without verbally saying a thing. 

“we’re gonna head to bed, goodnight,” riley announces and turns for the hallway without a second glance, san bids you a small wave goodnight behind her. 

you and jeongin both call goodnight after them and he turns to you, moving a stray hair off of your face, “i’ve missed you.” 

“missed you too,” you sigh, “‘m sorry i snapped at you earlier,” you set your plate down and lean into his front, laying your head on his shoulder with your eyes closed. exhaustion hits you as soon as your eyelids shut, you could fall asleep on his shoulder if you needed to. his hands immediately find purchase on your hips, giving them a squeeze.

“don’t apologize baby, you’ve been so stressed and working so hard,” he kissed the side of your head, pulling up a hand to scratch at your scalp, “gonna be the best producer in all of new york.” you groan in appreciation. you should’ve had him here days ago. that’s always been his thing — the magic touch. 

where riley could see through you, practically hear your thoughts and feelings exactly for what they were, jeongin could feel them. with a hand in your hair or kiss to the cheek, he could feel what you were feeling. it was your favorite thing about him, his ability to know what you needed and help you through it without you having to ask. 

“you tired?” he asks, and you lift your head to look at him, then shook your head quickly. he smiles at your sleepy eyes, and like always, he knew what you wanted. he brought his hands to your hips again to twist your back against the counter, kissing you softly at first. he slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring until you brought your hands to his hair and tugged, silently begging for more. he swiftly slid the pizza box across the counter and picked you up by the backs of your thighs, placing you on the countertop without breaking the kiss. 

“mm, maybe i am tired, we should head to bed,” you say between kisses, arms placed around his neck. 

he groans into his words, “yeah, lots of sleeping, we should do that,” you’re both smiling into the kiss, and you squeal as his hands scoop under your ass, picking you up to bring you to your room. sleep could come later, right now you just wanted him.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

friday comes faster than you thought it would. your classes breezed by, your song finally finished and turned in, and you were impatiently waiting for tonight. normally you aren’t as excited for the rooftop parties your boyfriend and his roommates threw, they were a dime a dozen, but the anticipation for tonight has been at the front of your mind all week. 

“you dressed up? i thought we were dressing cozy like we always do!” riley stands at your doorway, hands at her sides with her eyebrows furrowed. she had on ripped jeans, an oversized hoodie, and a pair of white sneakers. her hair was tied up in a bun, glasses sitting on her nose. 

you looked down at your bodysuit, jeans and sandals, and then looked back up to her, “this is somewhat cozy!”

“i’m putting on a different shirt and doing my hair,” she states and leaves your room in a hurry, and you look in the mirror at your side. you did your hair and makeup, something you only do once in a while for jeongin’s parties. you’d usually be in a different version of riley’s exact outfit. 

“i guess i did dress up,” you mumble to yourself and shrug, your small smile returning on your lips. you were in a good mood, actually having enough energy to put effort into getting ready, so your appearance reflected that. 

you made your way to the kitchen to pour a couple shots for you and your roommate, getting the pregame started. music blasted throughout your apartment, thanks to the surround sound stereo system you installed with the help of riley and jeongin. 

more so you got frustrated trying to install them yourself and made jeongin do most of it while riley watched anxiously.

you took the first shot back quick, needing to start easing your nerves before heading out for the night. jeongin’s parties were famously never small, with the help of his three roommates they were friends with half of NYU’s campus. from the arts department to the finance bros, they knew everyone, and everyone knew them. even the wealthiest students that attended NYU knew at least one out of the four. living in a huge apartment in soho, thanks to seungmin’s father paying half their rent each month, they had the luxury of their own private rooftop.

some of your best memories of the past two years have been on that rooftop… huge parties, small get-togethers, nights between you and jeongin only. you would prefer that to a random frat party any day. even in the winter time, with tents and heaters, you’d still be on that rooftop until all hours of the night. but as you’ve grown older, classes have become harder, your workload more intense, nights on that rooftop have become less of a common occurrence. you think that’s why your stomach is bubbling up with tension, you don’t have the comfort of knowing you were there just the other day. it’s been long enough to where you feel like just someone showing up rather than the host’s girlfriend of two years walking around the rooftop like she owns it.

“okay, i’m ready now — oh no, you poured shots?” riley pouts, setting her hands down on the counter.  now she wore a black bodysuit, her dark hair in soft curls around her face. you know by now that her resolve is weak despite her complaints, so you slide the two shot glasses toward her. 

“to riley getting laid tonight!” you yell as you lift up your shot glass, and she lets out a quick laugh before clicking her glass with yours and shooting it back. 

“why tonight? i’ve been fucking san for months,” she says, her face scrunching up in disgust from the taste of the vodka. 

“by chan, ri,” you announce in a tone that this information was obvious, smiling like a maniac at your roommate. this makes her eyes roll, heat rising to her cheeks. “come on, it’s been years of mutual pining between the two of you, i don’t understand why it’s not happening when it’s clearly meant to!” 

“please,” she waves a hand and picks up her phone, “he literally has a girlfriend, ki. we keep having the same conversation, it’ll happen when it’s meant to.” 

you tap your second shot glass on the table to alert her to take her second shot as well. she grabs onto the top of the glass and pauses for a second, “maybe i really should stop sleeping with san.” 

“to riley discontinuing her meaningless sex relationship and pursuing true love!” you raise your shot glass again and she clinks hers with yours, an emotion you can’t read in her eyes before she takes it back. 

“meaningless sex is crazy,” she lets out a breath of air after the shot, “you know it’s more than that, we just talked about this.” 

you grab your phone off the charger and slip it into your purse, “i also know you’re in love with chan, we just talked about that, too. no more meaningless sex, but instead sex with love behind it.”

she’s smiling as she lifts up her phone again, “and what about you, huh? you’re about to see your new boyfriend at your actual boyfriend’s party.” 

your eyes snap up, jaw immediately dropping with a gasp. you filled her in on what happened in the studio the other night, she hasn't let you rest for a minute because of it. “don’t even joke like that, it’s not like that and you know it.” 

“just like it’s not just meaningless sex with san and i,” she sings, “i’m kidding, but i can’t help but connect the dots and i do feel like maybe you’re a little excited to see him again,” she puts her fingers up in a pinch, squinting an eye. 

you respond with your lips pursed, your eyes lowered to slits. 

“in a completely platonic and innocent way!” her hands go up in defense instead. 

“am i excited for the chance to talk to someone older than me with more experience in my major, who’s really talented and can hopefully give me tips to get me further in my career? yes, of course i am,” you run a hand through your hair with a huff of air, “it just so happens that he’s a man.” 

“who’s six feet tall and probably sexy.”

“riley!”

“i’m sorry! let’s go, uber’s here.”

the rooftop is just how you left it. a mass of bodies standing, talking, drinking, maybe even dancing to the song playing through the speakers. fairy lights still hang over the roof, intertwined in a way that looks intentional, but you still aren’t sure if it is. the bar is in the same place, they got a dj, nothing has changed at all and it helps to put you at ease. along with the vodka you drank before you left. 

“no way! riley and kiki!?” you hear him before you see him, a slightly taller sunshine maneuvering his way towards you and your smaller sunshine. 

“lixie!” riley exclaims, throwing her arms around his neck in a hug as he approaches you, “i’ve missed you! how’s the foot?”

“honestly better now, just waiting on clearance from the doctor before i can start performing again,” he smiles as he sticks his leg out, lifting his pant leg and twisting his ankle around to show you it’s mobility. the smile on his face is infectious, it immediately makes you smile, too. 

“there she is,” you feel hands around your waist and a pair of plump lips pressed to your cheek, “you look so fucking beautiful and i haven’t even seen your face yet.” 

you turn around and press your lips to jeongin’s, smiling into it, “i felt like dressing up.” 

“and i feel like taking it off of you,” he whispers into your ear, making a hand go over your mouth as you choke out a giggle. his messy curls lay wispy across his forehead, the familiar copper flips peeking out from the nape of his neck. he was in a big t-shirt, baggy jeans and sneakers, your favorite look on him after just plain sweats. 

“at least get me a drink first,” you licked your lips, tasting the cheap beer from when you kissed him. it was usually like this between you two, flirting like you had just started dating yesterday, the off days where you were stressed and short tempered were few and far between. 

“you’re coming with me, i want you to meet some people,” he grabs your hand and starts for the crowd of people. you give riley and felix a wave behind you, jeongin not giving you any time for small talk as he starts pulling you towards the bar.

you passed faces you recognized, giving small waves and ‘hey!’s as you followed behind him. you’ll get to socializing with everyone you know later. 

at the back end of the rooftop was a stand up bar, one seungmin’s dad gifted to them without a doubt. everyone had the option to bring their own alcohol, which a lot of people did, but seungmin loved the classy feeling of having an almost full bar at his parties. it was mainly his name that was passed around for the legendary parties, so he had to live up to expectations. 

“hey jinnie,” you smile as you approach the bar, completely ignoring the line that was formed in front of it. still hand in hand with jeongin, no one batted an eye. it’s one thing to have a bar at a college party, but to have a bartender comfortable serving alcohol without showing ID? impossible to find. hyunjin, on the other hand, has never minded for a moment — he actually offered. with compensation, of course. 

“hey keeks! haven’t seen you in a hot minute, how’ve you been?” his smile is wide when he notices you, still shaking the drink he was currently making. 

“busy as hell, what about you? how’s the portfolio?” you unlace your hand with jeongin’s and lean on the side of the bar, trying not to let his actions sway your easily distracted mind. 

“i’ve been really good! super busy too, still working on it,” he hands the finished drink to the girl standing at the bar, and she hands him a 20 while batting her eyelashes. he winks back and then turns to you, “you want a beer or a cocktail?” 

“cocktail please, something tequila. i’m in the mood to chat,” you smile and it makes him laugh, already pulling the casamigos from the rack. 

“whatever you say, princess,” this has always been the relationship between you and hyunjin since before you and jeongin had started dating. the shameless flirting, the easy conversation, the nicknames, you’ve thanked god jeongin isn’t the jealous type plenty of times. your drink is handed to you in moments, jeongin passing his friend a bill you couldn’t see. you thanked hyunjin for the drink and jeongin for tipping him, and your boyfriend pulled you by the wrist once more.

“where are we going?” you ask, keeping your drink level as you make your way through the crowd. you try to manage a sip, your face scrunching up from the sour taste. tequila and sour mix was an odd one of your favorites, but the first sip is always the worst before it gets better. 

“i just met a couple of chan’s friends, i was talking with them right before you got here, they’re cool. they’re in the same major as you,” he yells over the loud music now that you’re back in the crowd, and you nod despite him not being able to see you.

you make your way over to the smoking corner, one of the cozier areas that you friend group seemed to naturally go towards every time you were here. the music was still loud but it seemed somewhat quieter in the corner, maybe because it was next to the edge of the rooftop and there was nothing but the city around and beneath, you could hear traffic and the business of new york, making it seem less deafening. there were couches, cushioned chairs, tiki torches, it made the space the most inviting spot on the rooftop.

“hey keeks!” chan stood up to hug you, wrapping his huge arms around your back, “feels like i haven’t seen you in ages, you haven’t been by the loft. what’s up?” 

“i know, i’ve been busy as shit,” you chuckle as he lets go, sitting back down, “how about you?”

“the same, really. but hey, nothing new is nothing bad, right?” his hands go up, his eyebrows raised in amusement. you glance down to the couch, han was sitting with one leg over minho’s, fully relaxed into the cushions. you gave them a smile in greeting, they were close friends of the four roommates, close friends of yours. you give chan a nod and the rest a wave before jeongin grabs your hand again. 

“ki, this is who i wanted you to meet!” you turned away from chan, and before your boyfriend were two people you had definitely met before, “mingi and hongjoong.”

“oh shit, hey guys,” your cheeks immediately heat up as you give them a small wave, mouth twisting to a tight lipped smile. 

“i thought your name sounded familiar!” hongjoong’s finger points, his eyebrows perked up in surprise. his mullet was messy, his piercings shining under the moonlight. he had on an oversized distressed sweater, a long pair of denim shorts, paired with some old boots. does he just permanently look like a rockstar?

“sick, you know each other already?” jeongin asks, a bright smile on his face. 

“yeah, we met last week at prince when i was out with wooyo and yunho,” you nod, playing with the straw in your drink. 

“how’d the song come out, ki? you add in what i told you to?” mingi asks, and you gave him a one over. he wore a tight black tee paired with white and black jeans, a black baseball cap and plenty of jewelry. 

you nod, “got an A plus, thank you very much!” you sip your drink, pretending you didn’t feel the sweat forming in your palms, telling yourself it’s just the condensation from your glass. 

jeongin looks at you with an eyebrow raised, clearly missing a key point from the conversation, “the night i had the breakthrough, mingi listened to my song and told me what i needed to fix. he’s why i finished it so quickly.” 

“ah,” is all he said with a slow nod, and you couldn’t fight the uncomfortable feeling creeping up your spine. 

“even if i didn’t, you still would’ve gotten a good grade, you didn’t need my help,” he shakes his hand at you, “i’ve actually been talking to joong about it, next time you’re in the studio you have to let us come by and listen to it.” 

“seriously? i mean- yeah, but why?” your eyebrows furrow and you shift your weight to one leg. 

“it’s been stuck in my head, i was thinking it’d be even better with vocals over it,” he shrugs, taking a swig of his beer. 

“i catch him humming to it all the time. during class, at work, at the bar,” hongjoong laughs before he sniffs, running the back of his hand over his nostrils, “i feel like i need to hear it so i can get it out of my head.” 

you laugh along with him, “you can definitely come by, i’ll probably be in there tomorrow working on my own stuff. same studio,” you tip your chin up at mingi and he nods back in understanding. 

jeongin’s hand makes its way to your waist, “i’m gonna go find felix and ri, i’ll be back.” you nod and give him a quick kiss, and he goes right back into the crowd. 

“i didn’t know you and jeongin were together,” mingi starts, his eyes that were following jeongin disappear into the crowd come back to meet yours.

“almost two years now,” you say with a smile, then take another sip of your drink. the words feel sour coming out of your mouth, like you didn’t want to tell him that. 

“two yea- aren’t you a junior?” hongjoong interrupted, pointing your way again, looking nothing short of flabbergasted.

“we met our freshman year, been together since,” you confirmed with an uncomfortable chuckle, taking another sip of your drink. you hated that you selfishly wanted to change the subject. 

“cute,” mingi mutters before his beer touches his lips again, eyes boring holes into yours. 

“ki!” you hear over your shoulder, making you whip around to yunho approaching you from behind, his girlfriend close behind him. you’d never been more grateful for anything in your life. 

“hey guys,” you smile and hug them both quickly, giving yunho a moment to greet everyone in the corner before he takes the spot next to you. 

“what’d i miss? i just saw felix and riley back there,” his hands are in his pockets, a soft close-mouthed smile sitting on his face.

“nothing at all, we were waiting for you to get the party started,” you scrunch your nose at your own joke and yunho replies with a belly laugh, shaking his head.

“yun, can we get drinks?” ivy asked, tugging on yunho’s sleeve. blonde and blue eyed, small girl, she was always dressed so pretty. always in a dress or a skirt, you don’t know if you’ve ever seen her in a pair of pants, not even when you all went out for a night of bowling in brooklyn.

they’d been together for longer than yourself and jeongin, the four of you often went out on double dates when you first became friends with yunho. their relationships mirrored your own, a match made in heaven, two people born to be with each other.

“you guys are empty too?,” mingi asks, asking the three of you but keeping his gaze focused on your empty glass, gaining your attention. “let’s go get another.” 

he starts for the crowd with you following close behind until it starts to get dense, people naturally clinging closer to one another the closer they got to the dj. changbin always insists he runs the music at these parties, there’s nothing he loves more than riling up a crowd with the remixes he and han make. he also couldn’t complain about the girls that hang around the booth. mingi turns his head around and notices you lagging behind, offering a hand so you don't get lost in the crowd. 

you took it, and the first thing you noticed was how small your hand is in comparison to his. it fit so nicely in his palm, fingers wrapped around the top of his hand. you blame the tequila for the heat that spread into your chest. 

as you neared the line for the bar you chose to not use your friendship with hyunjin to get you up to the front, opting to take your time at the back of the line instead. you noticed yunho and ivy didn’t make it to the line behind you and you couldn’t help but be happy about it.

“so,” he starts and a pause follows, making you both giggle, “i assume you’re at all of these parties, right?” 

his question makes you tilt your head, “i’m 95% sure that question was a slightly different version of ‘you come here often?’”

he turns around in embarrassment, a hand covering his mouth, pretending he didn’t know who you were. he turns back around, a silly smile sitting on those pretty lips of his and you swear there’s a pink hue to his cheeks, “it might’ve been.” 

“then to that, i’ll say i used to come a lot more, but with school getting so crazy i haven’t been as much,” you shrug and he nods, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. 

you make small talk as the line moves closer and you swear there’s tension between the two of you. it could be the buzz you’re nursing because the small talk flows, but it feels like there’s something that both of you want to say and neither of you are saying it. 

“you’re cheating on me with someone else now too?” hyunjin pouts as you finally approach the bar.

“i’m sorry baby, i didn’t mean to break it to you like this,” you reach for his hand over the bar and he pulls it away, looking at you with disappointment. 

“is it because he’s taller than me? i swear 2 or 3 inches isn’t that much,” he says with a fake sadness, already pulling the casamigos from the rack. 

“jinnie baby, 2 or 3 inches is a lot where it counts,” you put your hand over your heart, “i hope you can forgive me.” 

“i’ll think about it, princess,” he puts your drink on the bar, looking up to mingi who is confused yet amused, “miller right?” 

mingi nods and hyunjin cracks a can, mingi slipping him a bill during the transaction. they both do that guy nod at each other in thanks and hyunjin looks at you with fake sadness again, making you giggle. 

“what the hell?” is all mingi says as you walk back towards the crowd, both walking a lot slower. 

“that’s hyunjin, one of my friends. we always play like that,” you shrug, “what, you thought he was serious?” 

“at first, well for a second there yeah,” he admits, making you laugh, “i don’t know what to expect with you. here i thought i met a really pretty girl who shares the same interests as me, has the same humor as me, then i find out she’s been in a two year long relationship. i guess i don’t really know that much about you.” 

you stop in your tracks and look up to him in surprise, eyes wide and lips parted. you blink a couple times, scrambling to find something to say.

“you think i’m pretty?” you ask, a serious look on your face before your lips twitch upward. he nudges your shoulder with a shut up making you giggle. 

“what do you want to know?” you ask, and you’re both standing still, nursing your drinks. 

“i want to know a lot of things, but unfortunately i think our time is up,” his eyes look past you and you turn around, jeongin approaching.

“hey guys,” he kisses your cheek and tilts his head up to nod at mingi, “i caught riley and chan flirting!” 

you gasp, “no shot, san is here.” 

he nods again, success written all over his face, “i think san was in our corner while they were talking.” 

you dapped up your boyfriend, “i consider that a step forward, i’ll stay here if she takes him home tonight.” 

“you’re staying here anyway,” he looks at you like you should know that already then leans closer to your ear, “i didn’t forget about what i said earlier.” 

you shush him, your cheeks burning, from what he said or the fact that he said it with the other man standing behind you, you weren’t sure.  

“i’m gonna head back over to where we were,” mingi says from behind you, and you turn around to give him a smile and a nod. jeongin gives him a cheesy thumbs up and you can’t help but want to pull his hand back down to his side, second-hand embarrassment forcing heat to rise to your cheeks again. you’d usually find that funny, maybe even a bit endearing.

“we should go too,” you murmur, this time you grabbed his wrist to follow mingi through the crowd. 

when you get back, all the seats are taken except for the spots san and minho left open, they had gone to get more drinks just as you got there. mingi and hongjoong still choose to stand, deep in conversation with yunho. you and jeongin sit apart, opposite sides of the area, and you try your hardest to listen to the conversation everyone was already in the midst of. you kept replaying the past half hour in your head while everyone around you was engulfed in discussion, burning the conversation with mingi into your memory so your buzzed brain didn’t forget it. as curious as you were about him he seemed to be the same towards you, which only made you more restless about getting to know him better. you caught yourself staring at him a few times throughout the night until he inevitably caught you, shooting a sly smirk your way. 

your eyes shoot to jeongin who was already looking at you, he’d noticed you’ve been lost in your thoughts for awhile now. he stood abruptly, straightening out his shirt.

“i’m tired,” he says nonchalantly, still looking to you. you couldn’t read him, did he catch that? the looks? is he actually tired? everyone looks up at him, surprised at his sudden revelation, “i’m gonna head to bed.”

“it’s only midnight, innie,” chan looks up from his lock screen, no doubt checking the time, “why so early?”

he shrugs, “i’m tired.” 

he waves goodnight to everyone and you sit stuck in your chair, unsure of where his head is at. do you follow him? do you stay here with everyone and enjoy the rest of the party? you hadn’t even said hi to the soccer club yet. 

as he starts to walk away, he doesn’t look back at you nor does he kiss you goodnight, and you have your answer. you stood up, swinging your purse over your shoulder and chug the rest of your drink. you needed the rest of the watered down tequila to ease your nerves, especially with not knowing where his head is. he may not be the jealous type, but he’s not stupid, either. 

“you’re going in, too?” riley asks, eyebrows furrowed with a pout on her lips.

“following my boyfriend into an empty house? absolutely,” you say jokingly, trying to play it off as something you two had planned. 

but as she always does, she lifts a brow, sensing your uneasiness despite your words. her eyes quickly darted to mingi and back to you so fast it was almost unnoticeable, and your lips tightened. she nods. 

“we on for wednesday?” yunho asks as you turn away, giving you a quick hug goodbye. 

“depends on my assignments for the week,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. 

“wooyoung will be pissed if you don’t,” he sings teasingly and you roll your eyes, turning your attention to mingi and hongjoong.

“good to see you guys again,” you smile, waving to them both. 

“we’ll see you tomorrow?” hongjoong asks, eyebrows raised. 

“i think so,” you nod, purposefully not confirming, then turn on your heel to walk through the crowd once more. 

you greet about twenty more people along the way, getting stuck in a few conversations before you finally stand before the door to the staircase. you take in a deep breath, not knowing what’s waiting for you on the other side. 

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you nodded your head along to the beat, fingers tapping against the desk, mimicking every sound in the current project you had displayed across the monitor. you paused it, tweaking a harmony’s pitch, then pressed play again. 

you sighed as you sat back, taking off your headphones in the middle of the song, and stared up at the ceiling of the studio. you hadn’t seen him since friday, and he’s been occupying half of your mind since. it’s so wrong, you shouldn’t wish he’d walk through the door behind you, but you do. 

you couldn’t stop thinking about his necklaces, his rings, the hat he wore and the short waves peeking out of it, his nose, his lips… the list can go on and on. it’s so fucking wrong. your boyfriend was at his apartment, waiting for you to be done so you could join him. you spent the remainder of the weekend with him, half because you wanted to and half because you needed to. you needed mingi out of your head, and the only way to do that was to fill it with jeongin. 

you stare back at the screen, and your eyes squint. you can’t help but wonder what he’d think of the song, what input he’d have to improve it. you rubbed your eyes and groaned.

a knock at the door has your eyes wide and a gasp leaving your throat, your neck snapping behind you to catch who’s entering your studio space. the man of the hour waltzes inside so casually, as if he didn’t owe you rent for living in your mind the past 96 hours. 

“look who it is,” your smile is wide, bright eyes looking up at him as he makes his way in. 

“at least i didn’t scare you this time,” he’s already smiling too, excitement leaking out of both of you, “i finally caught you, you didn’t show on saturday.”

you take your headphones off, placing them on the desk, “my bad, i didn’t feel good all weekend. this is the first time i’ve been here in a few days,” a lie.

“all better now i hope?” he stands with the back of his legs against the desk, staring down at you, so aloof you can't read him. 

“for the most part,” you lean back in your chair, playing with your own rings, “i was hoping i’d see you, actually. i’m working on something else that i want your opinion on.” 

“hoping you’d see me? that doesn’t sound good,” that smirk you couldn’t stop thinking about finds its way to his face again, “don’t get yourself in trouble now.” 

you roll your eyes, “did your ears stop working or are you so narcissistic that that’s all you heard?” 

he chuckles to himself, pulling the chair that he sat in last time back over to the desk, “go for it.” 

you unplug your headphones this time, letting the song play out loud. you both nod your head, and you couldn’t help feeling vulnerable as your own personal project plays through the small studio. he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, and you couldn’t read his expression. it seemed like focus, but you couldn’t pinpoint any pleasure or dislike. 

he pauses the song, looking dead at you, and you feel two feet tall in the leather chair, “have you applied anywhere for an internship?” 

you blink twice, not expecting the sudden question, “i was planning to look into it later this year.” 

“you need to start looking, you’re good at this shit,” he takes a breath, pressing play to finish the song. your whole body is hot, there’s no way you could pay attention to the rest of the song now. despite the discomfort from the sudden compliment, a surge of confidence rushes through you, twisting the vulnerability into a feeling of pride. 

you realized you haven't even heard anything he’s produced yet, and wonder why his opinion means so much to you. is it just because he’s older? more experienced? because he’s already working with a record label?

“i really fucking like this, ki. we need to get joong in here,” his voice rips you out of your thoughts, realizing he’s already looking at you, “do you mind if i text him to stop by?” 

you quickly shook your head, “not at all, no, tell him to come by,” you tuck your hair behind your ears, “thank you, but there’s nothing you want to add? no constructive criticism?” 

“well it’s not like this is for a class, right?” he asks and you quickly shake your head again, “the art you create is a reflection of you, it represents who you are. your talent, your passion, your personality. i can’t give criticism on something so personal.” 

you both blink at each other before he cracks a small smile, “that was corny, wasn’t it?” 

“no! it wasn’t corny at all, i just wasn’t expecting something so… poetic?” you untuck your hair, nervously fidgeting now, “i guess there’s a lot i don’t know about you either.” 

“well what do you want to know?” he asks, mimicking your words from the last time you two spoke. 

“everything,” you took a breath, “i want to know everything.” 

the next few hours were spent with the two of you talking about every thought that popped into both of your brains. each story you told reminded him of a similar one he had, which reminded you of a similar story you had, and the cycle went on and on.

he told you about his childhood, moving to another country with yunho in tow and nothing else to his name. yunho’s version you’ve already heard, but hearing the second telling of the story left a different impact. mingi talked about yunho with stars in his eyes, he spoke of him so highly, yunho is someone he held close to his heart. 

he talked about coming to new york, his dream of becoming a successful music producer, the dream you both shared. you reveled in your shared dream for a bit, how you wanted to succeed, what genres you preferred, tips and tricks of the trade. he showed you a couple songs on his phone, and you were right to hold your opinion of him so high, his style is unlike anything you’ve ever heard. 

he grew up listening to a plethora of genres, his favorite being rock, he went to as many concerts as he could for as many different genres as he could, and spent plenty of nights by himself writing music. he’s a rapper as well as a producer, most of his music has his vocals and rap lines over it, all written by himself. his knowledge and experience shows through his music, his art, it’s motivating more than anything. it gives you a clearer goal, an objective for your own future. 

“what the fuck is fix on?”

“my tag, like an ad-lib.” 

“like karate kid? wax on, wax off.” 

that made him laugh, and laugh loud, “it’s for like, determination, i guess. like to be fixed on a goal or a target.” 

“i like it, mister miyagi.”

mingi and hongjoong got close when they met their freshman year, and became inseparable. they share the same values, have the same dream, and are both extremely talented individuals. when put together, they’re truly special. he showed you one or two tracks hongjoong had a hand in and it blew you away. their style was so unique, a mixture of genres that bled into one sound, but it worked. it worked so fucking well. you knew in your heart they were going to run the industry one day, and you’d be their number one competitor.

you got into your childhood, you shared the feeling of moving somewhere new with nothing to your name. his was a lot greater, you’d just hopped a couple states over. but the two of you could relate to one another, on a deeper level than either of you thought you would. there are too many things that the two of you shared… it scared you and excited you. 

somewhere in those hours you moved from the leather chairs to the couch, you sat facing him with your knees bent up right beside his torso. your shoes had come off, his hoodie that smelled so deliciously like him had swallowed you over your jumpsuit. his arm stretched across the couch behind you, touching your shoulder every now and then, reminding you of that uncomfortable feeling which kept itself seated at the pit of your stomach. 

“we have more in common than i initially thought, i think,” you leaned your head to the side, facing him still, the top of your head hitting the back of the couch. 

“i had a feeling we would get along. you’re too bright eyed to be a local, too talented to be boring,” he answered, his arm stretched behind your head bent up to pat your head. 

“did hongjoong ever answer you?” you asked, realizing he never showed up. you played with the sleeves of his hoodie mindlessly, looking up at him.

“can i be honest?” a rhetorical question, his eyes looking down at your sleeves, “i never texted him.” 

both of you giggled like little kids, his chest rising and lowering with each laugh. this comfort, this ease you both clearly feel, you didn’t want it to stop. it was so easy to talk to him, your conversation had a constant flow from the time he walked into the room. 

you let out a tsk, “you’re gatekeeping me, song mingi, and that’s no fun.” 

“if anyone‘s gatekeeping you, it’s jeongin,” his snap is quick, like he was waiting to bring up jeongin. your jaw drops before a laugh erupts from your throat. 

you sit up and smack his shoulder playfully, “you’re fucked up!” 

he shrugs, “it’s true.” he isn’t laughing, there’s no smile on his face. he’s dead serious. you should get up, you should leave, you should at least tell him not to say things like that. but you don’t.

your laughter dies and you’re both staring at each other, a stillness overtaking the room. it’s deafening, the close proximity in which you’re sitting now feels incriminating. your sock covered foot touching his thigh feels like it’s on fire. 

“mingi,” your voice is so low it’s almost a whisper, that pit feeling in your stomach you pushed down only growing.

“tell me there’s nothing between us, that there isn’t this thing that would’ve started last week if you didn’t have him,” his face is blank, you couldn’t read him. every feature is perfectly in place as he looks at you, no dishonesty in his eyes — just veracity. 

“why?” is all you ask, voice small. you didn’t dare move an inch, you didn’t break contact, fear breaking out across your skin. fear for what, you couldn’t place. 

“i want to kiss you, i know i shouldn’t, but i’m starting to not give a fuck anymore. i need you to tell me no,” his voice is also low, raspy but still laced with confidence. he sits forward a bit, head turning to face you more. your eyes drift from his own to his lips, those lips you’d been seeing in your dreams. bottom lip red from how often he pulls it between his teeth, both wet from how many times he’s licked them to soothe them over. they were inviting, you wondered what they tasted like, what they’d feel like pressed against your own. 

“ki, if you don’t answer i’m going to assume it’s a yes. say no,” he repeats, whispering the last part, and you look back up to his eyes. every ounce of your body that was feeling fear a moment ago is replaced with need, a demand so great that it’s pulsing through you, a desperation you haven’t felt in a long time. there was no other thought in your brain other than what he felt like. you needed to know, fuck the consequences. 

with a speed you’ve only experienced with one other person, his lips are pressed to yours. you couldn’t think, you couldn’t process, you couldn’t think of anything other than him and how much you wanted him.

his lips tasted so entirely like him, wet and messy and sweet. his hands confidently wrapped around your head like they were made for this purpose, his lips fitting so perfectly between your own you can’t imagine anyone else’s being there again. it was fascinating, one kiss changing everything you knew about yourself. 

you had one boyfriend back at home. you started dating when you were seventeen, a junior in high school, he was your first everything. you were so wrapped around his finger you thought you’d be married by twenty. you could see it: the two of you living in new york city together, in a big penthouse, a fat diamond on your finger. he was lanky, a tall boy with pretty white teeth and shaggy brown hair, he was everything you thought you wanted in a partner. he was funny, quiet but he knew when to use his voice, he was insistent on what was best for you and your future. 

then the time came for you to graduate, and around that time you were a fucking mess. as much as you needed to leave home to go to a big city with big opportunities, of course, leaving everyone you’ve ever known destroyed you. the day you graduated high school you broke it off with him. you told him it was because you were leaving and there was no way a long distance relationship would work, but you knew if you truly loved him you would've made it work. you knew when you came to the city of dreams you’d meet someone who swept you off your feet. 

as mingi scooped you off your spot on the couch and onto his lap, you knew you were right. you’ve always been loyal to jeongin, you’d barely ever looked in anyone else’s direction. you were fully convinced jeongin was the one you’d be in that penthouse with, and he’d be the one to get on one knee and put that diamond around your finger. 

jeongin has never once treated you this way, and god does it feel good. you’d never once felt this level of greed, this level of desperation. like you’re the last sip of water in a desert and mingi hasn’t had a drop in days. your thighs wrapped around mingi’s hips and his hands found your waist, tongues in a battle to see who wanted the other more. you were both out of breath, the kiss never once breaking, and your brain was on a carousel. all you could think was how good this feels, how good he feels and that you wanted more on repeat. until the one person’s face who should not be in your head right now popped in to remind you what the fuck you were doing. 

you broke away, wide eyed, with a hushed fuck.

a muttered fuck fuck fuck left your lips as you got off his lap, quickly backing up two steps away from him.

“i’m sorry,” he blurts out, pulling his shirt over what you were just happily grinding yourself against, “ki, i’m so sorry.”

“shut up,” you snap, with your hands out in front of you, eyes shut, “let me think.”

this is okay, you can get away with this. no one needs to know what just happened. it was once, you needed to get it out of your system. you’ll never do it again. it’s okay. no one can know, though. not a single person in the world can find out what just happened, you and mingi both need to take it to the grave. as long as no one finds out, you’ll be safe. you and jeongin will be happy. it’ll work out. this is okay. it’s okay.

“you tell no one,” you say shakily, your voice low, “not yunho, not hongjoong, not any of your other friends. no one.”

he hurriedly nods, “i won’t tell a soul, please don’t freak out. i’m sorry ki.”

you gathered your backpack, throwing your headphones and all the other shit you had sprawled across the desk into it. you threw it over your shoulders, heading for the door.

“ki?” he calls from the couch, and you pause, turning your head to look at him.

“my hoodie.”

[misterradio]

okay here are my renfield 2023 thoughts [peace sign] you have been spoiler warned.... and long-post-warned.....

okay first off this is the first movie i have watched in a theatre in years and it was really fun ::-) i do have a headache now though. there werent a lot of people in the theatre and apparently at some point someone came in just to have a muttered conversation in his phone and left? RUDE! also the seats were very comfy.

anyways here are some actual movie thoughts:

the set design and lighting was so cool ESPECIALLY for dracula's lair with the eerie lighting around the blood-bag throne. so cool!! i liked renfield's house which was very much the opposite where it was very colourful. him finding his own modern sense of style was a neat detail.

did not care for the cops. didnt even really care for the crime ring plot. actually i didnt really feel invested in any of the characters even though i feel i shouldve... i watched this movie bc i wanted to see how it went and that i did! i wish i could have had stronger positive feelings.

my brother said that it was a very "modern movie" and i have to agree... i've been watching a lot of various older movies in general, this one definitely had a very different vibe. maybe im just not familiar with the genre? it just had like... modern humour / sensibilities... i dont knoowwww

re; the last two points: a lot of this movie was focusing on analyzing renfield and draculas relationship, but it used very clinical language to describe everything, so it did a lot more talking about the idea of an abusive relationship than really making me feel like that's what was happening ??!?!??!!?? also they were really throwing the concept of narcisists under the bus.

i liked the music during the credits but i have to admit i didnt think about the music during the movie. the credits in general were also cool they had really neat visuals ::-)

F--K COPS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! what else can i say.

one review i read said the gore was over the top and played for comedy aand they were RIGHT i was actually quite shocked at first how much gore there was. it wasnt even good most of the time but that was kind of making it funnier.

it was fun and good in a way that a lighthearted action comedy splatter movie would be good. do not expect emotional depth? (which seems like it wouldve been an important factor to get strong in this movie?) also remember this is following the concept of the 1931 movie not the book lol. i dont think you need to know either of them to enjoy this movie but the background knowledge is nice.

i wish i could see a dracula (book) adaptation where the characters are intact and also renfield is actually 59 years old... he is so young all the time please age this frickin guy

----------

le more thoughts i am adding on after thinkin on it more....

i didnt think of it while the movie was going but they never quoted dracula ever. bit sad. i would have been delighted by any book references (besides the obvious). the most they do is have a characters father be named 'morris quincy' (like quincy morris from the original novel).

how does dracula exist in this universe? ppl seem to acknowledge familiarity with him, but is it as a fictional character thru a book, or a mythological figure, etc..?

i said this in another post but, i would have liked to SEE renfields rocky relationship rather than having it be stated for the audience via narration... i also would love to know how renfield went from the wacky ~insane~ guy in the 1931 movie (which they acknowledge renfield in the asylum here!) to being a regular plain guy in the present. how did he change so much.... was he delusional or did dracula make his delusions real......

also tumblr was dropped by name. in this movie. and i have to say. it was actually funny.

they should have had nick cage look gorey and gross more often. i liked his look when he like had his skin on his face just barely on there. so cool.

[jackmmbirrell71]

Favourite New Things

I’ve been trying to watch a movie a day and it’s not going to plan however I am trying to intake any kind of movie when I can- call it doing some research. 

I’ve just made a short list of films that I've watched recently that left an impact on me, whether that be for it’s plot, script, directing and just overall enjoyment. 

THE WHALE 

“I need to know that I have done one thing right with my life!” 

Give the man his Oscar. I’ve never experienced getting goosebumps because of someone’s performance however Brendan pulled everything out of the bag for his performance in The Whale. The emotions he conjures and the weight he puts on the heart-wrenching dialogue leaves you sat in the cinema forgetting about the world outside and only focusing on Brendan himself. The movie isn’t for the faint of heart as it breaks you down piece by piece over the course of the film and leaves you to decipher the beauty in life and people.  

BABYLON 

“A child born in fifty years will stumble upon your image flickering upon a screen and feel, he knows you- like a friend. When you’ve breathed your last before he breaths his first. You’ve been given a gift- be grateful. Your time today is through but you’ll spend eternity with angels and ghosts.” 

PERFECT. It’s the perfect film. nothing can top it. It’s beautiful, epic, euphoric, emotional and is precise in what it’s trying to say. The way and care of which this film is crafted with pulls it away from all the other ‘love letter to Hollywood’ films and stands as a masterpiece of modern cinema. The journey and characters that you experience this journey with are acted to perfection and each in the film is given their moment to shine. Damien really loves his cinema and It goes to show In that phenomenal, jaw dropping, spectacle last montage scene that has provided me with a new life and passion for pursuing a life in film. 

AFTERSUN 

“There’s this feeling, once you leave where you grew up, that you don’t totally belong there again.”

I felt this entire film on a personal level and I'd like to sit down with Charlotte and shout at her for creating something so personal. I didn't think I'd like the film but it ended up being a film experience that left me in silence sobbing as I listen to queen and Bowie. The character dynamic was so lovable and caring that you just had to get invested in the story which only made it all the more guts wrenching when these characters are seen struggling. 

FRANCES HA 

“It's that thing when you're with someone, and you love them and they know it, and they love you and you know it... but it's a party... and you're both talking to other people, and you're laughing and shining... and you look across the room and catch each other's eyes... but - but not because you're possessive, or it's precisely sexual... but because... that is your person in this life. And it's funny and sad, but only because this life will end, and it's this secret world that exists right there in public, unnoticed, that no one else knows about. It's sort of like how they say that other dimensions exist all around us, but we don't have the ability to perceive them. That's - That's what I want out of a relationship. Or just life, I guess.”

Need I say more? The quote just goes to show how incredible this film is. The emotion in the words and Greta’s stellar performance left me feeling warm and butterflies in my stomach. The whole thing just felt hopeful and by the end I felt some-what at ease with the coming of my 20s. 

[lookwhatilost]

28 life lessons I've learned in 28 years (in no particular order or importance):

1. there’s no such thing as too soon when it comes to jokes. you've got to learn to laugh.

2. help others and do it selflessly. you’ll need help someday and nobody wants to assist a jerk.

3. gamble. not necessarily with money. winning yields rewards and losing yields lessons.

4. when feeding your vice (whatever it may be), buy the best. quality beats quantity every time.

5. tinker. you'll never learn unless you break a few things.

6. be honest with yourself and others. you can't make progress and delude yourself at the same time.

7. love everybody. feel free to be disturbed by ideas and ideals, but everybody deserves at least a chance.

8. don't be afraid of working a job you don't enjoy. you won't get to where you want to be in life by playing video games and watching TV.

9. do your best to make those around you happy and successful. if we don't take care of each other, no one will.

10. don't be afraid to be your weird self. everybody is weird.

11. question everything. doubt, in the healthiest sense of the word, leads to knowledge and better solutions to problems.

12. when somebody is offended, it means their ideals were challenged, not that they are necessarily right or worthy of acquiescence.

13. if you know the way, don't be afraid to lead.

14. when working for the man, walk with purpose. no boss questions an employee who looks like they're on a mission.

14. be free. don't live your life to appease.

15. let your happiness infect the people around you. share your passions with others.

16. learn to be conscientious. if you can’t understand what your words may do to someone else, you’re going to hurt a lot of people.

17. don't let the possibility of hurting somebody else stop you from doing the right thing. life is full of difficult choices and sometimes there is collateral damage.

18. think things through before you attempt them. there's always something you didn't think of initially.

19. don't abuse the love that surrounds you. friends can become enemies in a heartbeat.

20. don't worry. there isn't enough time allotted to us to waste it with worrying.

21. your concerns are exactly that: yours. your challenges, fears, life impeding obstacles, they're yours to conquer. while that doesn't mean you're alone, it should be a recognition of what you need to handle and what isn't your responsibility.

22. fix it. mend it. make do. resources are finite, both personally and globally. a pyrex container will serve you better than a plastic bag, and a sturdy knife can be honed over and over again.

23. even when your future looks bleak, maybe especially when your future looks bleak, hold on to friendship, love, and hope. those three things have seen people through the hardest times imaginable and there's nothing and nobody that can change that.

24. take good care of yourself. you only get this body and you're stuck with it until the day you drop. you'll get out of it only what you invest into it.

25. there's only one thing that can never be taken from you: your education. set a lofty goal to grow a little smarter and a little wiser every year and work your ass off to pursue it.

26. the scariest, most devastating times of your life are an opportunity to rebuild. whether it's a career shift, the end of a relationship, or any of life's uncertainties, you can simply let go of anything that's not actively holding on to you. change seems scary, but freeing yourself of emotional bricks that you don't need to carry will make it worth it. use those bricks in the foundation of something bigger and better.

27. you might not recognize what is right for you when you find it, but you'll know with certainty if it's wrong. unlearning patterns of behavior instilled into you over the course of a lifetime may be necessary in order to land where you're supposed to be. grow. adapt. bend, but bail if you're about to break.

28. the time we get in this life is finite, so happiness and stealing moments of joy when you can trump all but survival. if you're unhappy in a situation and surviving, sometimes that's the best anyone can do in the moment, but you need to plot a course back to happiness and work toward it. if you're happy but struggling to survive, hats off to you for the sunny disposition, but if you don't figure out how to play the game soon, you're going to get crushed by it. happy and thriving is the sweet spot all of us are aiming for. if you're not there, start looking inward as well as outward for the reason.

[sat0sugu-angst]

Kiss & Make Up

pairing: bakugo x fem!reader

summary: you've fought with Katsuki before, but never like this.

wc: 2.2k

cw: hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, katsuki calls y/n princess bc I like that shit sorry. idk yall are mean to each other and stuff but it's kinda cute at the end. not proofread so srry abt that

a/n: idk where this came from bc I normally don't like angst but i was thinking abt an ask I answered a while back that was kinda like this and I lowkey hated what I put out and needed to ~regain my honor~ plus I feel like with dating katsuki you kinda gotta prepare for fighting. I can't go full angst because that's not fun so here's what I came up with hehe. kinda hate the title but whatevs i hope yall like itttt <3

MDNI

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

The couple of tears falling down your cheeks only make you angrier as you glare at his ever present scowl. "I'm going to stay with a friend for a while. Don't even think about calling me or I'll block your ass." You grit out, lugging your two duffle bags full of random clothes and toiletries across the living room and to the front door.

He doesn’t reach out to you, like he had earlier, because that had earned him another tongue lashing. He was trying to contain his anger, but seeing you with all that crap in your arms ignited a fire in his chest. When you'd slammed the bedroom door in his face five minutes prior, he'd expected you to lock him out for an hour or two so you could cool off, not that you'd pack a bag to get away from him.

"Yeah, you fuckin' go right ahead!" He called at your retreating figure. Even though what he really wanted was to lock you in the house until you both could figured something out, he was just too fucking pissed that you were pulling away that he couldn't bring himself to cave. "Fuckin' child." He grunted under his breath.

You stop in your tracks, turn slowly, and settle an icy glare on him. He knows he shouldn't egg you on, that it would only make things worse, but he was pissed, and he wanted you to know that. "I'm the child? You haven't even been listening to anything I've said today, have you?" You seethed, and you had half a mind to drop your bags and have another screaming match, but you knew it would get you nowhere and you were too upset to be the bigger person. "Fuck you, Katsuki."

You expect more yelling, that he'd shout back at you, but you don't hear anything as you walk out of the house.

In his head, he's screaming at himself to follow you. To make you stay, because even fighting was better than you leaving. But the words die in his throat. A million things he could have said ran through his mind, but none ever made it to his lips. He wanted to go to you, to bring you home, and hold you close, and hash things out until you're not mad anymore. But by the time he was able to move, your car was long gone from the driveway.

Three days pass by in a haze. Katsuki is running through the motions, but he's barely present. And even when he is, he's at his worst. The agency is even more explosive than usual, and he knows he's being too hard on his sidekicks, that he's acting like a jackass and he hates it. Hates that he can't function without you, but even more than that, he hates that you're not gonna be there when he gets home.

The house is a complete mess. Dishes have piled up, and the bed's unmade even thought he's been falling asleep to the TV light on the living room instead of your bedroom. He can't sleep there without you, knowing you're probably crashing on someone's couch when you should be in that expensive ass bed you begged him for.

"But it's soooo comfy, Katsuki." You're pouting, looking up at him through your lashes because you know he can't resist it. "Come sit on it and see."

"It'll be an investment", "can't put a price on a good night's sleep", "just think how easy you'll fall asleep on a bed like this", all the things you'd cooed at him were ringing in his head. "Don't matter how comfy it is. S'too fuckin' pricey for a mattress, Princess." He said, trying to avoid looking at you even as he feels his resolve crumbling.

When he'd finally hung his chin and gave in, he knew it had been worth it to see your face light up, how excitedly you talked about a fuckin' mattress with your mom on the phone. It would have been idiotic if it hadn't been you, but it had been, and he felt like a million bucks taking that mattress home.

A wave of nausea hit him as he remembered the way you'd looked at him when you left him. He'd just finished dinner, a sorry excuse for one in his opinion, but all of the pans sat dirty in the sink, and he'd had few options. Now he stared at your contact in his phone, the cool light the only thing on in the living room as the natural light turned dark. He hadn't bothered to turn on the TV tonight.

He wants you back so bad his chest is tight. Fuck, he can't even think straight. But he wouldn't call, couldn't call. Even if you were bluffing about blocking him if he reached out, he was too proud to be the one to break the radio silence.

He thinks about your face again, how happy you'd been about something as mundane as a mattress. Something he couldn't care less about put that sweet, sexy, stupid fucking grin on your face. He sighed, finger hovering over the call button, but then he hears keys jingling in the lock.

He freezes, eyes shooting toward the door right when it opens. You walk in, wearing an old pair of shorts and one of your favorite t-shirts of his. You look like you're in a hurry, and then you let out a yell, jumping when seeing his hulking form on the couch. "Fuck, Katsuki, what the hell are you in the dark for?" You question, flipping the switch closest to you so the soft light from the kitchen could filter into the living room.

"You're—"

"I-I thought you'd still be at work." You said quietly.

He realizes why you'd been in a hurry, then. "They sent me home. Said I had to come back with a better attitude or something stupid." He spat, laying back and crossing his arms. "Sorry I ruined your little cat burglary." He added dryly.

He looked away from you, and you took the opportunity to study him. His hair was even more disheveled than usual, still in his hero uniform, even. You tried not to focus on the way his exposed arms showed off his rippling muscles as he crossed his arms.

"I'm just picking up more clothes. I won't be long." You said tightly. It took you a moment to realize you were waiting there for him to respond, but he didn't. You flushed, and turned on your heel to walk to your bedroom.

You were shocked to see the state it was in. In your rush to leave, you'd left a mess of clothes on the floor, and everything was still where you'd left it. Katsuki was a tidy person, and he hated nothing more than when you'd throw your clothes from the day onto the bedroom floor instead of in the bin. You couldn't imagine what he could be going through that he wouldn't at least move the clothes out of the way.

You felt embarrassed to see how you'd left the state of your room, and guilty because he was obviously not doing well. You almost wished you could go back to before the fight, even if you wouldn't be much better off. It was hard enough to talk to Katsuki; he was a commanding presence with unwavering confidence, and even well into his twenties still no volume control. But even when you worked up the balls to talk to him about things that bothered you, they had fallen on deaf ears. You felt insignificant, an afterthought, and then you couldn't take it anymore.

You exhaled, trying to steady your resolve before you went back to face him. "Could at least pick up your mess before you leave." He said, and you turned to find him watching you from the doorway.

There was something in his eyes that didn't match his words. Something softer. You briefly recalled moments when you'd be in bed and he'd come and lean against the doorframe, looking at you with that smirk that made you feel like you could rule the world.

"Whatever. Pick it up yourself if it bothers you so much." You grumbled, even though you knew it wasn't fair.

He took up the entire doorway, and you faced him, glaring up at him as if you could will him with your mind to move. Of course, he didn't budge. "Move, Katsuki."

He made a show of leaning against the doorframe, rubbing his shoulders into the wood as if it was the most comfortable thing in the world. "Nah, don't think I wanna."

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "And you say I'm the child." You mutter. He looked awfully relaxed leaning up against the door, and you were almost curious enough to see if he'd fall over if you pushed him.

"Yeah, 'cause children run from their problems." He said, though he wasn't looking at you, but the door.

You shook your head, your previous anger flaring. "Don't go there, okay? You made me leave."

He shot a glare at you. "Bullshit. I never once asked you to leave."

"What did you think would happen? You never listened to a damn thing I said, and when you did you couldn't have a serious discussion without turning it into a fight."

Now he was quiet. You thought you'd feel good about that, that you'd gotten a jab in, but it only made you feel worse.

"I didn't treat you the way I should've." He said finally. "I should've been more attentive to you. You were always there, encouraging me, giving me strength, and I didn't do enough to show you how much that meant to me. I know I could be better. I wanna be the one encouraging you, spoiling you, pushing you. I don't wanna hold you back or make you feel like you can't talk to me."

You were waiting for more, but he was quiet. You didn't know how to respond. You wanted all of that, wanted it with him, but pretty promises didn't mean anything if things just went back to the way they were. Your heart twisted in your chest, and your throat was tight. "It's a little late for that, Katsuki, don't you think?"

"I don't care. I don't want you to leave again. I want to work on this. Don't you?"

You felt tears threatening to spill over, cursing yourself for being so quick to cry all the time. "I do. I did. I..." You stopped, turning away so he couldn't read your emotions from your face. "I don't want to feel like I did again. Like I was invisible to you."

His heart was breaking looking at you. You were opinionated and mouthy when you'd met each other, sweet and giving but never afraid to tell someone off. He felt like such a prick looking at you turn from him, how your shoulders curled in on you. How had he let this happen? How could he have done this to you?

"You were never invisible to me, Y/n. Fuck, it's always been you." He reached out tentatively, hand at your elbow. You didn't pull away from him like you had last time, and he felt something like hope in his gut as he slowly turned you to face him. "I'm sorry I ever made you feel like that. I don't wanna do that anymore."

You looked up at him, and fuck you looked devastating, eyes big and shiny and he wanted nothing more than to take you in his arms and never let you go. He didn't even realize when he'd cupped your cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb softly into your skin.

"Katsuki, I just..." but you were out of all the excuses you'd prepared. You could barely think with him so close, the familiar scent of him, the soft callous on his hand, the way he looked at you like he couldn't breathe without you. And you were tired. Sleeping on your friend's couch was hard on your back, and it was always so hard to sleep without Katsuki's warmth, that you'd barely slept.

"Please, just stay home tonight. We can fight tomorrow." He breathed, finally giving in and pulling you against his chest, engulfing you in his arms.

You couldn't stop the couple of stray tears that trickled down your cheeks, but it felt good to be in his arms. No, not just good, you felt like a weight had been lifted from your chest.

"Fine." You said finally, trying to sound like you were doing him a favor even though you wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed in his arms. "But we're definitely fighting tomorrow."

His chest rumbled against your ear as he chuckled. "You got it, Princess."

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

a/n: tysm for reading! A little outta my comfort zone but I'm pretty pleased with what I got :) anyway lmk how you liked it! comments/rbs always appreciated

taglist: @animexholic @asmaechan

masterlist

[after-witch]

Imagine being Mahito’s oblivious human pet

note: general warnings for Mahito?? toxic relationship, unhealthy relationship behaviors, implications of future body transformation & abuse

It’s not impossible for non-sorcerers to see him, but it is unusual enough for it to be a novelty. 

So when you bump into him in the street and apologize profusely, almost falling over yourself to engage in those so-very-human pleasantries, he’s immediately delighted.

A new toy! How fun! He can play with you for a while before he drags you to the sewers for experimentation. 

He sees you glancing down and follow suit, realizing that you dropped some bags. Groceries or errands, clearly. And then he decides he wants to see how far this can go, so he offers to help you carry them back to your apartment. “They look heavy,” he says. “And it’s getting dark. You shouldn’t walk home alone.”

A normal person would say no, especially given his appearance, especially given that he’s a total stranger, especially given that yes, it is getting dark, and letting someone you’ve never met know where you live is monumentally stupid.

But you, with an almost shy look, profusely thank him--but you carry the bags yourself, insisting that you can’t possibly impose, since he’s taking the time out of his evening to walk you home. 

Oh, he can tell you’re going to be fun. 

You’re so trusting that it’s ridiculous. Maybe, he muses, you had bad relationships in your past. Maybe you were used to being steamrolled over. There were plenty of humans like you.

And so the two of you walk down the street. You, carrying the bags and Mahito carrying on a conversation. 

“What’s your name?” You give it. “Where do you live?” You tell him. “What do you like to do for fun?” He gets to hear all about your mundane, human hobbies that your kind think are so so important. 

And then you begin to ask him questions about himself. The same things he asked you, sure, but you follow them up with curious little thoughts. 

He soaks in the fact that to any passers-by, you must look like a crazy person talking to yourself. It makes him engage in even more conversation, to see if you’ll notice the funny looks people give you.

But you’re so focused on him, seemingly actually interested in the answers to your inane questions, that the odd looks escape your notice.

It’s even funnier, somehow, that you’re so invested in this evening walk and the answers he’s giving you.

So when the two of you reach the front of your apartment building and you stare at him, biting your lip, seemingly wanting to ask him something but being too shy to say it... he’s the one that fills in the blanks.

“Hey, this was a nice chat. Let’s meet up again some time.”

You stumble over your words and he can practically feel the heat coming off your soul, pulsing and needy. “How about tomorrow?” You finally stammer out. “We can meet here? And then go for... coffee?”

He smiles. And anyone with an ounce of self-preservation should see something dangerous in that smile. But you, too-trusting you, merely grin right back. 

Mahito’s not exactly sure when things turned from him idly listening to you chatter, imagining all the different directions he could mold and pull your self, and into a game that is far more complex.

A game in which you consider him your “boyfriend.”

A game in which he spends more time with you than he should, really, considering all that he has to do.

A game in which you fuck and cuddle and go on dates, inside and outside your little apartment.

A game in which he kisses you and holds you, and you don’t notice (or pretend not to notice, and that might just be more delicious) the way he sometimes bites too hard, grips your body until it bruises, doesn’t stop when you say he’s going too hard or fast.

But something about it all is strangely... relaxing. Maybe even rejuvenating, the way a trip to the hot springs can be.

You like to rent movies. Shitty ones, usually, or horror movies that make you scream and bury your head in his shoulders. He can’t wait to hear you scream for real, down the line; will you still want to press your cheek into his body to hide yourself, then?

You cook for him, or order takeout, and you’re always amazed by the sheer amount of food he can put away.

Despite all of this... you never seem to question your relationship. You never seem to question him. 

Not when you ask him to go on a double date, or come to your family’s house for a dinner party to meet your parents, and he gives excuse after excuse as to why he simply can’t.

Not when your friends stop by unannounced and he crawls out the bathroom window and doesn’t come back until everyone is gone. 

Not when he sometimes changes his answers about where he lived or what he does.

Not when he does any of the things that should scream “This is not right” to anyone looking out for the simplest of red flags.

But that’s why the game is so entertaining, isn’t it? Because you keep on pushing through, despite the warnings he’s giving you. 

You are too naive and ignorant to put into words. He’s amazed that no other curse has gotten you yet. That no human has gotten you either, for that matter. Humans do love to prey on those weaker than them. And you, my dear, are practically a little lamb. 

You ask, once, hesitantly, about the scars running down his face and arms and body. And all he has to do is look a little sad, turn his eyes away and say, remotely, that it was a bad accident... a long time ago... he doesn’t like to talk about it.

And you, like the mouse that you are, squeak out an apology and promise not to bring it up again. 

He pulls you closer to his body and you seem to melt into his touch, like always. “It’s all right,” he says. “I’ll forgive you...”

There is something warm that comes with the way you cuddle against him during times like this. A slow, calm, warm feeling as he holds you against him and you’re content to simply snuggle, quiet and loving. Sometimes you fall asleep in his arms and drool on his clothes. 

You’re so helpless and stupid and he feels such a terrible, twisty fondness for you because of it. You really are the best toy, the best pet, a curse could ask for. 

Occasionally he debates hurting you when you’re getting too comfortable with him, but something in him always decides against it. That will come later, but for now? He wants this cloying saccharine stillness with you. He wants you to cuddle into his arms and murmur his name, sometimes even calling him the nickname you gave him (’Hito, and isn’t that just precious?) as you keep your fingers gripped so tightly on his shirt. 

It’s not real to him. He doesn’t love you, not really. Not in the way you love him, your soul absolutely filled with these heavy aches of longing and trust every time you see him, touch him, let him hold you and kiss you and fuck you. 

It’s too soft, too sweet to go on for too long. He knows that. He’ll tire of the game soon enough.

When he does, you’ll be another trinket in his collection, another human to mold and transfigure. 

But until then, why not enjoy it?