#will never look at crab the same again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

osarina · 10 days ago

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ᡣ𐭩 I BITE MY TONGUE, IT'S A BAD HABIT

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai doesn't care about stupid holidays, but when he sees everyone but him being gifted chocolates from you, he starts to find himself severely bothered. it's the principle, he tells himself—nothing more, nothing less, just the principle.... right?

(wordcount: 6.9k; fem!reader, sfw, dazai is jealous and silly. unedited.)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: HAPPY LATE VALENTINE'S DAY, take pmreader and dazai being silly teens in love who refuse to tell each other how they feel in words. i had this posted on valentine's day but then turned into a big baby and deleted </3 i am still a big baby but i am a big baby who is going to leave the post up this time HAHAAH

Dazai doesn’t care about stupid holidays.

In fact, Dazai can count the things he cares about on one hand—he cares about Odasaku and Ango because they’re his friends, he cares about crab because he likes eating crab and he can recite every known fun fact about them off the top of his head, he cares about the arcade a few streets over because his favorite video game is there and he beats Chuuya every time and it’s funny watching him get mad, and he cares about you because you’re also his friend and you gave him a room in your apartment even though he could have his own but is just stubborn about not wanting to be in Mori’s building.

So, he’s not sure why his feet are rooted to the ground in Mori’s office as he stares down at the small round box of chocolates sitting on top of his desk. There’s a note on top of it that’s partially blocked from his line of view, but he can very much see your signature at the bottom of it.

You complain about Mori all the time, so it doesn’t take him long to put together that there must be a reason why you went out of your way to get him chocolates even though he knows you’ve been busy with some conflict happening in Russia. It’s not Mori’s birthday, and Dazai’s mind quickly tracks back to the stands of chocolate he saw set up on the same corner that the arcade is on.

Valentine’s Day, he realizes, eyes narrowing down on the chocolate.

“Such a dear she is. She dropped it off for me this morning,” Mori sighs when he realizes what Dazai is looking at. “Elise-chan hasn’t gotten me chocolates yet.”

“That’s because you don’t deserve chocolates, stupid Rintarou,” Elise’s familiar pitched voice comes from Dazai’s left—he hadn’t even noticed her sitting on the ground coloring because his gaze was pinned to the chocolate the moment he stepped into the room. Elise looks up at Dazai with a smile that’s just a bit too sweet, “Aw, she didn’t get you any? That’s too bad, Dazai-kun.”

Dazai’s jaw twitches at the snide comment, and he looks away from Elise back to Mori, who looks oddly intrigued by Dazai’s reaction, which is enough to let him know that he’s over-reacting, so he’s quick to smooth out his expression, even if the irritation in his chest continues to swell. He doesn’t even know why he’s so bothered—he doesn’t care about stupid holidays, and he doesn’t care about chocolate. It’s really not a big deal, but he can’t seem to snuff out the growing annoyance.

“I’m sure she’ll give you one later, Dazai-kun,” Mori says with a placating smile that almost sends Dazai over the edge. “No need to fret.”

“I’m not-” he starts to say, but is cut off quickly by Elise.

“Or, maybe she just doesn’t like him enough to give him any,” Elise says with gleeful giggle. “How did she word it again? Oh, yeah, you forced your way into her life, didn’t you?”

Dazai doesn’t take anything anyone says to him or about him to heart, but he especially knows not to take anything Elise says to heart, considering the girl’s ardent distaste for him. He’s never been sure why she hates him so much, but he figures that it’s because he can make her disappear with his ability, and he’s half-tempted to grab her arm and do just that, but he knows it’ll only make Mori even more interested in why he’s so emotional over this. That’s the last thing he wants considering he doesn’t even know why he’s getting so worked up about it.

But what did Elise even mean? Why would you tell them that he forced his way into your life? If anything, you’re the one who forced yourself into his life when you showed up at his shipping compartment during that winter storm a few months ago. He just… capitalized on it, that’s all. You would’ve kicked him out if you didn't want him hanging around, but you didn’t. And Elise is known for twisting the truth, but then… Why didn’t you give him chocolates? That’s the whole point of the holiday, right? To show appreciation for the people in your life?

It’s not the holiday that’s bothering him, it’s the principle.

Dazai is suddenly ten times more antsy than he was when he first noticed the chocolates. There must be a logical explanation for this—maybe you really are giving him them later, or maybe you’re only giving them to Mori because you have to. Snidely, he notes that the chocolates you gave him looked like they could be bought at a convenience store, so it’s not like you put much effort into it.

“Elise-chan,” Mori chides, although he still sounds terribly amused, violet eyes glittering as he scrutinizes Dazai. “Don’t say such cruel things. I taught our hime to have good manners, Dazai-kun will get chocolates from her, even if they’re just obligatory.”

Obligatory, Dazai has to force himself not to physically blanch at the word. He thinks he would almost prefer not to get chocolates from you. How are you just going to give obligatory chocolates to someone you live with? You guys are friends, aren’t you? He doesn’t know much at all about Valentine’s Day, but he does know that there’s different types of chocolate depending on your relationship with the person, and he thinks he’ll jump off the roof if you give Chuuya nicer chocolates than him.

Chuuya.

“I have to go,” Dazai says abruptly, turning to leave.

“Goodbye, Dazai-kun,” Mori sings, much to Dazai’s surprise. He was half-expecting Mori to tell him to sit back down so they could go over whatever he was called to his office for. He still doesn’t even know why the man called him up here—maybe it was just to flaunt the chocolates he received, Dazai thinks bitterly. “I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“I would!” Elise calls after him as he lets the door slam shut behind him, but Dazai doesn’t pay her any mind.

Surely Chuuya wouldn’t have gotten chocolates if he didn’t, right?

———

“Give me those right now.”

Chuuya pauses from where he’s about to pop a round chocolate into his mouth, eyes cutting to the side in irritation when he realizes that Dazai is standing in the doorframe of his office. Dazai is tense and jittery all at the same time—he’s not even looking at Chuuya, he’s staring at the set of chocolates sitting open on his desk and the familiar handwriting on the note next to it. Chuuya’s set is much nicer than Mori’s; they’re his favorite truffles, imported in from Belgium, and there’s a red wine on his desk to go along with it.

It makes Dazai sick.

“The fuck?” Chuuya asks, sitting up a bit straighter and giving Dazai a weird look before pointedly eating the chocolate in his hand. Dazai’s eye twitches. “What’s your problem this time, you freak?”

“I said give me those right now,” Dazai repeats, inhaling deeply as he takes a few steps closer. “Give me them.”

Chuuya looks a bit concerned now, grabbing the chocolates you gave him and dragging them closer to him. Dazai is undeterred, stalking forward and reaching quickly for them. Chuuya reacts faster, snatching them off the table and holding them close to his chest.

“Fuck off,” Chuuya spits, sounding confused and irritated all at the same time. “What the hell is your problem?”

Dazai could think of an excuse—they’ve been tampered with, poisoned, you accidentally gave him the wrong ones and you sent him here to grab them before Chuuya ate them all—but the only thing that escapes his lips is the same demand.

“Give me the chocolates.”

“What?” Chuuya demands. “No, you fucking psycho, get out of my office.”

Dazai’s hand instinctively twitches in the direction of his gun, and Chuuya catches it from the way his eyes shoot open.

“Yo,” Chuuya says loudly, rising to his feet. “What the fuck, Dazai?”

Logically, Dazai knows that whether he gets the chocolates from Chuuya or not, it won’t change anything. It’s the principle of it that’s the issue. Even if he manages to get his hands on the chocolates, you gave them to Chuuya and you didn’t give them to Dazai, but still, the sight of Chuuya with them is setting Dazai off in ways that he just can’t seem to get under wraps.

“Give me-”

Chuuya’s face twists in irritation and he slams the chocolates down on his desk before walking around it in Dazai’s direction. Instead of making a smart decision and running out of his office before he can get a faceful of Chuuya’s fist, he takes the opportunity to dart forward and grab the chocolates he put down, throwing them onto the ground and driving his heel right into the box.

“You bastard,” Chuuya shouts, grabbing Dazai by the collar of his jacket hard and throwing him hard into the side of his desk. Dazai barely withholds a wince as the corner of Chuuya’s desk drives deep into his side, crumpling to the ground hard. Chuuya kneels down to see if there’s anything left to salvage of the chocolates you gave him, but finds himself sorely disappointed. “What’s your fucking issue, Dazai?”

Stubbornly, Dazai doesn’t respond, raising his chin and meeting Chuuya’s gaze, trying to pretend that there is no issue and like he isn’t acting deranged over chocolates.

Not chocolates, he reminds himself, the principle.

“I knew you were weird about her but jeez,” Chuuya scoffs, picking up the mess of chocolates on his floor, brows furrowed in irritation. “You can’t even handle her giving someone else chocolates on Valentine’s Day. You need some serious fucking help, man. It’s the whole point of the goddamn day. You gonna go around and take everyone’s chocolates, you possessive freak?”

Dazai cringes and can’t stop himself as he asks quietly, “How many people has she given them too?”

Instantly, he knows he’s made a mistake—his voice came out all wrong and Chuuya notices it from the way he squints and frowns. He forces his expression to clear of any possible emotions and rises back to his feet, tilting his head to the side as he dares Chuuya to point out that his voice wavered when he asked the question.

“I don’t fucking know,” Chuuya shrugs, side-eyeing him suspiciously but choosing not to point out the weird tone he asked the question in. “She came in with a ton this morning, figured I was the last since she didn’t have any left with her when she came up here before.”

Oh, Dazai thinks, staring at Chuuya absently. Dazai didn’t anticipate that. At once, both of his theories to explain why you didn’t give him chocolates are disproven, and Dazai falters. If you came in with all of them at once and had none left by the time you got to Chuuya, then all signs pointed to that you’re just not giving Dazai chocolate for Valentine’s Day.

But why? Dazai doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong lately—in fact, he’s barely even had time to talk to you lately because you’ve been busy talking with your informants in Eastern Russia. You spent most days in Tokyo, and by the time you got back to your apartment, Dazai was out on his own missions. He hasn’t had the chance to do anything wrong, unless him just being around you is wrong.

How did she word it again? Oh, yeah, you forced your way into her life, didn’t you?

Elise is known for twisting the truth, she doesn’t usually lie about things—why did you tell them that he forced himself into your life? Do you not want him staying at your apartment? Mori did mention that he taught you to have good manners and he never says anything without there being an ulterior motive behind it. Was he trying to imply that you’re just being polite in letting him stay? Dazai doesn’t know; he’s always struggled to read you, but you’ve always made him feel welcome and wanted more than anyone else. It disconcerted him for a while, but he’s grown used to it in a way that he probably shouldn’t have.

Now, he’s doubting it all.

Chuuya’s eyes suddenly widen, his small brain clearly realizing something it wasn’t meant to. Dazai’s gaze hardens as he waits for Chuuya to say whatever it is he wants to say, but instead of speaking, the slug snorts. His hand flies to his mouth to smother the noise, but he just can’t stop himself from bursting into laughter. Dazai bristles.

“What?” he demands.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Chuuya howls, eyes tearing up as he laughs so hard that he wheezes. Dazai stiffens but otherwise doesn’t say anything, and that’s evidently an answer enough for him. “God, shitty Dazai, you’d think you of all people would know better. Get the fuck out of my office.”

Dazai doesn’t want to admit he has no idea what Chuuya’s talking about, but he also isn’t going to let Chuuya order him around, so he stands there stubbornly until Chuuya rises to his feet to grab Dazai by the back of his jacket again. Dazai instinctively drives his elbow hard into Chuuya’s chest, but he’s unbothered by it, shoving Dazai forward through the door of his office.

Chuuya gives him a mocking smile and goads, “How about you go ask her why she didn’t give you chocolates?”

Before Dazai has the chance to shoot back a snide comment, Chuuya slams the door right in his face. It’s not the principle that’s bothering him, Dazai realizes glumly, it’s the implication that maybe he’s been wrong about his friendship with you this whole time.

———

Dazai doesn’t even get out of the main building before he runs into someone else who has chocolates that are definitely gifted by you considering it’s your new partner. Itou Asahi is lounging in the lobby of headquarters with Hirotsu and a few members of the Black Lizards that Dazai doesn’t recognize. Dazai has never particularly liked the man—in fact, Dazai despises him and he despises how you seem to think the world of him—but now, his jaw is tight as he glares at the man from across the lobby.

Itou seems to be able to feel the daggers being shot in his direction. He looks up as he pops a chocolate into his mouth, eyes narrow as he tries to pinpoint who exactly is staring at him so intensely and pauses when he notices Dazai. He nudges Hirotsu, and to Dazai’s horror, he realizes that Hirotsu also has a set of chocolates that he hasn’t opened on the couch next to where he’s sitting with a note that Dazai can’t read from the distance but is the same pale pink parchment that Mori’s and Chuuya’s were written on.

Mori. Chuuya. Itou. Hirotsu. Why not him? What did he do?

Dazai sneers in Itou’s direction when the man lifts his hand and awkwardly waves, turning on his feet to leave the building. He had been planning on going to your apartment to sulk to see if you notice that he’s wildly irritated over the fact that he’s not received chocolates from you, but instead, he’s going to go grab a cheap bottle of whiskey from the nearest liquor store and drown himself in his misery back at his shipping container.

He doesn’t know what he did to you, and he thought if he did something wrong, you would’ve said something to him instead of icing him out. Isn’t that what you preach to him? Communication? Yes, Dazai sucks at it and has made no attempts to be better about it, but since you’re the one preaching it, you should at least have the decency to act as you preach.

You’re such a hypocrite, Dazai thinks bitterly, his throat feels clogged and his chest feels tight and his side hurts a shit ton—he doesn’t like any of this, and with each passing second, he’s becoming increasingly more bothered by this situation.

He’s not irritated anymore, he’s just hurt.

———

Dazai doesn’t end up going right to the shipping container. It’s late afternoon on a Friday, so when he’s halfway to the convenience store, he decides to make a pitstop at Bar Lupin to see if Odasaku and Ango are already hanging there. Luckily, one thing can go right for him today, because the two of them are in fact already sitting in their designated stools drinking their alcohol of choice.

Neither of them have said much of anything to him since he’s arrived besides greeting him. He wonders if he interrupted them—very extremely sour, he thinks that he wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case considering he seems to be a burden on just about every single person he thinks is his friend.

“I didn’t think you’d be free today,” Odasaku finally says. “We would’ve texted you.”

“I didn’t have a mission scheduled for today,” Dazai replies flatly, unable to muster the energy to put on an energetic front for the two of them. Usually, he doesn’t need to fake it around them because he does genuinely have a good time with them, but he’s just in such a bad mood because of everything with you and all of the newfound doubts plaguing him that it’s impossible for him to take his mind off of it. “Why would I be busy?”

Odasaku and Ango share a look with one another, Dazai catches the way Ango subtly shakes his head and is instantly suspicious. Odasaku either doesn’t pick up on it or doesn’t care, because he says, “It’s Valentine’s Day. I thought you’d be spending it with…”

Odasaku trails off when Ango’s headshakes become more frequent, but Dazai already knows what he was about to say. Stiffly, he asks, “Why would I spend Valentine’s Day with her?”

Ango’s smile is unsure as he shares another look with Odasaku before turning his attention toward Dazai and prodding, “Did something happen?”

“No.” Neither of them respond to his sharp answer, and after a few moments, Dazai blurts out, “She doesn’t want me living at her apartment anymore.”

“What-” Ango begins before seemingly rethinking his question, letting out a sigh. “Did she tell you that?”

“No,” Dazai says after a second, “but I know.”

“How do you know?” Ango presses. “Did you overhear her talking to someone?”

“Well, no,” Dazai responds awkwardly, “but I know.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she didn’t get me chocolates,” Dazai finally explodes, voicing the words that have been bothering him all day. “She got Mori chocolates. She got the slug chocolates. She got her moron of a partner chocolates. She even got Hirotsu chocolates, but she didn’t get me chocolates. And Elise said that she told her and Mori that I forced my way into her life. Isn’t that rich? She’s the one that forced her way into my life. I don’t need her, I never did. I just liked her stupid apartment. I could get my own if I wanted to, I just didn’t want to put in the work.”

Dazai thought maybe getting all of his complaints out would make him feel better, but he only feels worse, because half of that isn’t even true. He likes being able to bother you at night instead of rotting alone in his shitty shipping container, and he likes when you make him coffee in the morning before heading out to a meeting. He likes Friday night movies and he likes forcing you to play video games just so he could beat you and brag about it. You told him that you were his friend, so shouldn’t you like doing all of that with him too instead of it being a burden?

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Odasaku asks bluntly, never one to mince his words. Dazai slowly turns his head to look at the older man, barely catching the way Ango briefly shuts his eyes in exasperation. “I mean, you don’t even know if she’s not getting you any yet. You’re just assuming. The day isn’t over.”

Odasaku is usually logical, and he’s one of the few people who Dazai will take the advice of without question, but this time, Dazai shakes his head. He knows that’s not the case, you brought all of your chocolates to headquarters, and you handed them all out and didn’t give any to him. You knew he didn’t have a mission today so it’s not like he was busy, and even if he was, you could’ve given them to him this morning before he left. And either way, it’s not like that explains what Elise said.

“You should head back to her apartment,” Odasaku continues. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

“You know what, you’re right,” Dazai says, becoming increasingly more incensed with each passing second. He knew befriending you was a bad idea—nobody actually wants to be Dazai’s friend once they get to know him, it’s been true his whole life, he’s still half-convinced that Odasaku and Ango only humor him because they think he’ll just kill himself. Once people start to see how odd and fucked in the head he really is, they start to distance themselves from him; you can’t distance yourself from him since he’s living with you, so this is just your way of silently telling him you’ve had enough. He knew things would turn out this way, and he hates the way it still makes his chest hurt. He rises to his feet abruptly, “I am going to head back to her apartment—so I can pack my stuff and leave.”

“Dazai,” Ango calls after him, but Dazai doesn’t respond, storming out of Bar Lupin without another word.

He doesn’t need you, he tells himself again, willing the pain in his chest to turn into something more manageable—anger, resentment, but preferably, he just wants to be indifferent. He doesn’t need you and he knew this was going to happen, so it’s time for him to just take the hint and go on his way, back to how things were before you forced yourself into his life.

———

You’re not there when he gets back to your apartment and you’re not there by the time he gets his things together and leaves. He was especially frustrated when he found himself disappointed by that, because he realized he was unintentionally wasting time packing his things because he was hoping you would show up and stop him.

But you didn’t, so Dazai is now back at his shipping container huddled under a blanket because it’s cold. He’s almost done with his first bottle of whiskey, trying to numb the pain in his side and all of the shitty emotions he just can’t seem to rid himself of. It’s been three hours since he moved his stuff back into his shipping container; you should be back at the apartment by now—it’s thirty minutes off when the two of you watch your Friday night movies, and you’re usually back at your apartment getting snacks together with him by now.

You’ve realized he’s gone by now. Dazai hasn’t checked his phone, mostly because he doesn’t want to know if you cared enough to reach out. If he’s right about all of this, you’ll just take it as a blessing and move on, not wanting to risk an opportunity arising where you’d have to be polite and ask him to come back. As if he would. If Odasaku is right though… No, Dazai isn’t even going to go down that route, the last thing he needs is-

He’s startled when he hears three loud bangs on the metal wall of his shipping container. Instantly, his gaze focuses on the door. He knows it can only be one of two people, because you and Chuuya are the only ones shameless enough to come by without warning. Odasaku and Ango would text first and everyone else is too wary of him to come anywhere near the shipping yard, much less bang right on his door.

“Dazai, open up! What the hell?” He hears you shout from the other side of the thin wall. “It’s cold, come on! What are you even doing out here?”

You came looking for him, Dazai realizes, swallowing thickly. Dazai isn’t often wrong about things, so he doesn’t dare get his hopes up and he doesn’t respond to you. The roll up door rattles as you try to pull it up, but Dazai doesn’t budge to help you. It’s locked, so you won’t be able to open it and Dazai just waits for you to leave so he can go back to sulking in peace.

“Dazai, come on,” you complain. “What’s wrong? I was waiting for you back at the apartment, why didn’t you come home?”

Though Dazai intended on just ignoring you until you went away, he can’t help the snide comment that escapes his lips, “Home? You mean your apartment?”

He immediately takes another swig of whiskey, but the burn of the alcohol does nothing to take away from the bitter taste the words leave on his tongue. From the way you pause, you seem to realize something is wrong—extra snidely, he wonders when you became as slow as Chuuya.

“Yeah, my apartment, the place you’ve been living at for three months?” you say incredulously and Dazai winces. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” Dazai asks coolly. “Maybe you should be answering that instead. You’re a hypocrite.”

He knows that will set you off—he’s always been good at getting under people’s skin—and he’s noticed how you bristle whenever Mori hits you with “Now, dear, let’s not be hypocritical.” He can almost imagine the way you go stiff and the way your face goes cold, but it doesn’t bring him the malicious satisfaction he expects.

Instead, he only feels heavier.

Unfair, he thinks tightly. You’re always so unfair.

“Can you let me in?” you ask after a few moments of silence. Dazai is even more bothered now that he didn’t get the reaction he expected, gaze lowering to the ground. “I’d prefer not to freeze to death out here.”

This time when you ask, Dazai finds himself rising to his feet. He hasn’t drank enough yet to be unsteady, but he can certainly feel the blood rush to his head as soon as he stands up.

He makes his way over to the door, only fumbling once with the lock. He doesn’t slide it open for you just to be petty, but he doesn’t need to anyway—as soon as you hear the lock click open, you’re pulling open the door and Dazai pointedly turns his back to you before you can step in.

“Seriously?” you ask. Much to Dazai’s pleasure, you do sound a bit irritated now. “Dazai, what the hell? Why are you acting so weird?”

“Me?” Dazai demands, voice shrill at the sheer audacity you have coming to his shipping container and insulting him after what you did. Didn’t do. Same thing. He whips around to face you, a barrage of snide comments about to fall from his lips only to hesitate when he sees a fancy box in your hands. “... What is that?”

Your gaze sharpens and your brows furrow. You move the box out of sight behind your back, but Dazai dances around you to try to get a better look at it. The two of you play a game of swivels and twists for a few moments, but Dazai has to call it quits when the pain in his side gets worse and the alcohol goes right to his head.

You give him a concerned look, but don’t press about the way he winces. Instead, you say, “Tell me what your problem is first. Why are you drinking here alone in the dark?”

“... No,” Dazai says after a second. “What’s in the box?”

Dazai really doesn’t want to get his hopes up, so he chews the inside of his cheek and rocks back and forth from his toes to heels, hands clasped behind his back as he tries to distract himself. You roll your eyes, but your lips curl up into a fond smile that almost eases all of the stress Dazai has felt all day. Almost.

After what feels like an eternity, you pass the box over to him and Dazai immediately darts forward to grab it before you can change your mind. Though he knows what it is before he opens it, he can’t control the relief that floods him when he sees the expensive chocolates sitting inside the box—most of them are shaped in the typical Valentine’s Day heart, but some of them are-

“They’re crabs,” Dazai says gleefully, a genuine smile spreading widely across his lips as he reaches down to pluck one out of the box and pop it into his mouth. The chocolate is soft and creamy, it melts in his mouth the moment it touches his tongue and he lets out a delighted hum. He eats another, and then another after that. “How did you get them crab shaped?”

You don’t answer the question; you stare at the chocolates, conflicted, and Dazai isn’t sure why. You seem to be trying to decide whether or not you want to say something, but you let out a sigh, seemingly deciding against it.

Instead of whatever you were debating on saying, you rest your hand on your hip and ask him, “Why did you take all of your stuff out of your room?”

Your room, Dazai swallows the chocolate in his mouth as he tries to figure out how to respond to your question. He doesn’t really want to admit that he had a meltdown triggered by the chocolate that you just handed him, and you do seem genuinely put off by the fact that he left. Maybe he was wrong, he thinks, pressing his lips together as he considers the possibility. He’s hardly ever wrong, but he supposes it wouldn’t be the first time that you’ve managed to surprise him; since the day he met you, he feels like his mind is dulled when you’re around. He hates it.

So, he throws Elise under the bus.

“Elise said that you told her I forced myself into your life,” he says, voice coming out far more bitter than he intended for it to. He raises his chin stubbornly. “I wouldn’t want to keep imposing.”

Your expression flickers momentarily and you look a bit hurt, Dazai immediately swallows another chocolate, hopeful that he’ll swallow the sudden guilt he feels along with it. He doesn’t.

“Mori was trying to get me to convince you to live in the apartment he has set up for you in the main building,” you explain quietly after a few moments, crossing your arms over your chest. “I told him that he was better off trying to convince you himself because it was your decision to stay at mine. I didn’t have much of a say in it.”

Dazai lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and because he has no self control, he starts to ask, “But if you did have a say in it…”

Your expression softens in a way that makes Dazai’s stomach turn in on itself and your eyes flicker down to the box he’s holding before you quickly look back up at him. The box of chocolates in his hands suddenly feels a lot heavier, and his grip instinctively tightens around it.

“I… my apartment is a bit too big to live in alone,” you answer, and then add, “I would prefer you stayed.”

Dazai doesn’t respond, but his gaze does dart down to the three bags of clothes he brought back to the shipping container with him, all still packed. It wasn’t all of his stuff, just enough for it to be noticeable to you when you went to his room looking for him. Maybe he had been hoping you would come bring him back.

“I don’t have a movie picked out for tonight, if you want to pick,” you offer when the silence stretches on.

Dazai glances down at the chocolates you gave him again and then he says, “The Discovery channel has a new documentary on -”

“No.”

“What?” Dazai demands. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“I am not watching another crab documentary, Dazai.”

“The last one was good.”

“The last one bored me to tears.”

Dazai rolls his eyes, leaning down to pick up one of his bags and you grab the other two after sending a narrowed look to his left side, slinging them over your shoulder as you step outside of the shipping container. Dazai follows you, rolling the door back down before giving you a mocking look.

“So you just want to watch one of those stupid superhero movies again? The only one actually entertained by them is bird-brained Chuuya, anyone with two brain cells knows how it ends just from the first scene,” he says snidely, enjoying the way you immediately scowl at him.

“Just because you know how it’s going to end doesn’t mean it’s not entertaining,” you argue. “You can be entertained by something predictable.”

“Not me,” Dazai sings as he follows you out of the shipping container yard and to the road. Much to Dazai’s displeasure, he realizes that you did not come here alone—your new partner is sitting in the front seat of the car waiting on the side of the road, scrolling through his phone. Distastefully, he demands, “Why is he here?”

“He drove me,” you say like it’s obvious. “What’s your problem with him anyway?”

“Nothing,” Dazai mutters, making sure to give the older boy a dark look as he slides into the back seat.

He expects you to get into the passenger seat, but instead you move to sit in the back with him. Before you do, he stiffens as he remembers his clothes were not the only thing he stole from your apartment. Your eyes narrow in suspicion and you place your hand on your hip.

“What else did you take before leaving?”

Dazai sulks at how easily you figured out what the issue is and lies when he repeats, “Nothing.”

“If we get back home and immediately have to come back out here, I’m going to waterboard you, Dazai,” you say flatly.

“I’ve been waterboarded before,” he says stubbornly.

“Not by me,” you threaten.

Dazai sighs dramatically, letting his head fall back against the headrest.

“I stole all of the remotes in the apartment,” he admits, shifting to push himself up to walk back over to the shipping container, wincing again when he shifts the wrong way. He pauses when you roll your eyes and hold your hand up to stop him.

“I’ll get them,” you say. “Stay here.”

“Don’t leave me with him,” Dazai complains, but you slam the door in his face.

Instantly, the light and playful expression drops from his face as he turns his attention to the rear view mirror, eyes locking with Itou Asahi. The blonde raises his eyebrows tauntingly, as if he’s daring Dazai to say something to him, and Dazai has half a mind to reach for the gun stuffed in the pocket of his black jacket. He refrains if only because he doesn’t want to piss you off even more.

After a moment, Itou twists in his seat to look at Dazai. Dazai’s eye twitches in irritation, realizing that he’s about to speak to him.

He nods to the box of chocolates. “She spent a month at my place trying to get it right.”

Though Dazai planned on ignoring him, he can’t stop the quiet, “What?” that slips from his mouth.

“The chocolates,” Itou says like Dazai is stupid, which irritates him but he’s still confused so he’s forced to wait for him to explain. “She tried custom ordering the crab shaped ones but had a tantrum because they looked ugly. So she spent a month learning how to make them so she could mold them on her own. She only just finished this batch today—still isn’t satisfied with how they came out, but ran out of time.”

Dazai’s throat swells up as he stares down at the chocolates, an odd warmth spreading through his chest that he can’t snuff out. Scrutinizing them more carefully now, he sees all of the tiny imperfections that wouldn’t be there if you’d store bought them—the hearts aren’t all perfectly even, some of the legs on the crabs are longer than others, there’s an indent on the back of the heart shaped chocolate he’s holding like you’d touched it while it was too soft.

His fingers close around it carefully, lips parting to speak but he can’t find any words. When did you have the time though? You’ve had so many missions lately-

Oh.

“All the missions in Tokyo…”

“Her missions were learning how to fucking make chocolate and they were in my apartment, not Tokyo,” Itou scoffs. “I’m never going to be able to eat chocolate again in my life the amount she’s force fed me. I can hardly stand the smell of it now. I had to send her to Nakahara for him to taste test the last few batches.”

Dazai’s gaze sharpens, obscenely bothered at the thought of Itou Ashi and Nakahara Chuuya being your taste testers and Itou is complaining about it. “You should be grateful you got to try her chocolate,” he snaps immediately.

Itou’s jaw drops and he immediately shakes his head. “You two are so fucking-” he starts to say but cuts himself off when he sees you approaching the car again.

Dazai squints at him, almost wanting to dare him to continue, but his expression lightens when you open the door, remotes in hand and an irritated expression still painted on your face.

He only moves over enough to give you room to sit instead of moving to sit behind the driver’s seat. You squint at him, but Dazai gives you a small smile and says quietly, “My chocolates are much nicer than Chuuya’s.”

Your expression immediately softens and your lashes flutter as you avert your gaze—the telltale sign of you being flustered. Dazai’s lips part to say something else, but no words come out, gaze pinned on the pretty glow the moonlight casts over your face. You look like you want to say something as you look down at the chocolates again, but again, you seem to decide against it.

“How do you even know what Chuuya got?” you ask suddenly, clearing your throat. Dazai freezes. “And what happened to your side? Every time you move you’re wincing.”

“I… stopped by his office and saw them?” he offers, his next smile is too sweet, and you catch it from the way your eyes narrow. Defensively, he says, “The slug didn’t deserve chocolates from you.”

“Oh my god, Dazai,” you complain, burying your face in your hands.

Dazai’s face flames up, and he shoots a dirty look in Itou’s direction when the older boy bursts into laughter.

“Slugs can’t eat chocolate,” Dazai insists. “I was helping him, really.”

“I can’t stand you,” you sigh, but when you shift in your seat, you shift so that you’re sitting a little closer to Dazai, shoulder pressed against his and thighs knocking together.

He glances down at the box of chocolates in his lap again, and the chocolate heart resting in his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, he passes it over to you. You give him a questioning look, but Dazai pointedly looks away as he wills his cheeks not to reflect his flustered thoughts, waiting for you to take it. His breath catches when your fingers brush his hand as you take it from him.

“Thanks,” you say softly.

Instead of directly responding, Dazai prods, “So, about the crab documentary…”

You let out a heavy sigh as you side eye him. “Fine,” you agree, “but you’re doing the garbage this week.”

“What?!” he demands. “It’s not my turn.”

“The price you pay for forcing me to watch nature documentaries for movie night.”

“It’s not just nature, it’s crabs.”

“Deal or no deal?”

“Fine. Deal.”

“Good,” you say with a saccharine smile that Dazai doesn’t like because he knows you’re thinking something bad. “Deal.”

After a few moments, you add, “I would’ve put it on even if you didn’t agree.”

“I’m going back to my shipping container.”

You laugh loudly, and Dazai’s heart skips a beat at the sound of it. He very much ignores the way Itou shoots an amused look back at them, focusing instead on the way your eyes glitter as your laughs fizzle into soft giggles.

“As if,” you say, knocking your shoulder into his. “I’ll just drag you back again. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

His lips curl up into a small smile in response to your words, gaze dropping back down to the chocolates sitting in his lap, and then back to you.

“Will you?” he asks quietly, a bit too seriously.

Your smile softens, and Dazai’s heart lodges right in his throat. “Count on it.”

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months ago

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Heart: Christmas

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Sunshine

"You looking forward to it?" Frido asks as she crouches down at your side in training. "Santa's coming soon. Have your mummies made you write your letter yet?"

You look up from your colouring book, pausing in the movement of dragging the pink crayon over the mermaid picture. "We did them with our teacher," You answer, nodding to yourself as you switch from pink to purple.

"Has it been sent yet?"

You frown. "Where is it meant to go?"

Frido laughs, fondly pushing your hair out of your face. "To the North Pole."

"Oh." You look down at your colouring book. "I've never sent a letter before. Santa always just knows what I want." You rub at your chest, where the Santa Heart from last year beats.

You hadn't needed to write him a fancy letter to send off to the North Pole. He had just known you needed a special new heart like how the doctors knew and how Ingrid and Mapi knew.

He just did and he'd delivered.

He'd gotten you the new heart that's been in your chest for nearly a whole year now.

You frown a little, trying to work your mind through the idea of sending a letter to Santa.

"Does everyone send a letter to him?"

"Oh, yes," Frido says, nodding her head as she hands you the orange crayon you'd pointed at," Everyone."

"Even you?"

"Even me."

"What did you ask him for?"

"I asked...I asked for my boyfriend to cook us some good food?"

You scrawl the orange crayon across the little crab at the corner of the mermaid page. "That's a good idea." You swap your crayon for green to colour in the seaweed. "And everyone has sent their letters already?"

"They have."

"Can I ask what other people asked for?"

"Sure, let's go."

Ingrid smiles from a distance as Frido leads you around the pitch while everyone takes a water break

She can't quite imagine what her and Mapi's life would have been without you now that it's coming up to a year since you had received your new heart.

She can't imagine what would have been different if she hadn't met you in that hospital bed. She can't quite imagine what the team would be like without you around either, a little breath of fresh air with an even smaller camera in your hands clicking away at every possible moment.

The same little hands that hold your favourite camera now tug at Ingrid's shorts until she looks down.

"What did you ask for in your Santa letter?" You ask.

"Huh? My Santa letter?"

"Yeah, Ingrid," Frido says pointedly," The Santa letter that everyone writes and sends off to Santa."

"Oh, yeah!" Ingrid catches on quickly," That Santa letter! Well...I asked Santa to make sure that me, you and your Mami have a good day on Christmas and get to sleep in before presents!"

You nod along with a little furrow in your brow, like you're trying to commit it to memory or something.

You grab onto Ingrid's legs quickly, squeezing them into a hug before hurrying off across the pitch to where Alexia is talking to Irene and Marta - no doubt to ask them the same question.

You don't ever really explain why you went around asking everyone what they wrote in their Santa letters and Ingrid's content to let her curiosity go unquenched with that one.

It's not an overwhelmingly pressing issue to her. It's one she only thinks briefly of when the team come over for a Christmas party before everyone goes home for the holidays.

You're sat at the little coffee table in front of the tv, enraptured by another kid's movie that Alexia's set Mija up next to you to watch.

Mapi sits next to Ingrid on the sofa, filling up her wine glass again when she thinks Ingrid isn't looking.

"Do we think we got her everything she asked for?" Mapi asks, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth," I don't want her to have anything missing from her pile."

"We've got everything," Ingrid assures her," Trust me. Absolutely everything she asked for, we've gotten her."

"Even that Barbie camera that prints off the photos? I don't remember wrapping it! Do you think they'll still have it in the store?" Mapi stands up suddenly, the words flooding out of her mouth so quickly that Ingrid nearly struggles to keep up. "I'll head out now and check. Don't wait up for me. I might be a while."

Ingrid pulls her back down. "My parents got it for her. It's in the pile."

"Definitely?" Mapi checks. "They confirmed it? They bought her the actual one she liked, yeah? Not like a knock off version?"

Ingrid laughs. "They got her the proper one. I checked."

Mapi finally breathes a sigh of relief at that, settling back down into her seat for a moment before slipping off the sofa to join you and Alexia's daughter on the floor with the movie.

"You know I love you right, sunshine?" She mumbles into your hair and you peer back to look at her.

"I know," You say," I love you and Mama too."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh! I'm glad Santa gave you to me."

"I'm glad Santa gave you to us too."

You turn then, fully into Mapi's lap as you look at her.

"I wrote a letter to Santa," You say," My teacher helped. Is it too late to send?"

Mapi shakes her head. "It's never too late to send. Why don't you go and get it and me and Mama will get ready to post it?"

The letter is written on a tiny scrap of paper when you return from your bedroom, holding it out in front of you as you wait for Mapi and Ingrid to prepare the envelope for it to go into.

You decorate it with little stickers and Ingrid helps you write Santa's address on it before bundling you up in your coat, hat and scarf to walk down to the post box on the street.

"Mama," You ask," Can you lift me please?"

Ingrid lifts you up easily in her arms so you're just tall enough to reach the post box to slip your letter inside.

"And Santa will get it before Christmas? I'm sorry I left it late," You ask as you're tucked into bed that night.

"You know," Mapi says as she pulls the covers all the way up to your chin," Every night before Christmas, Santa's elves go to all the post boxes in the world to check for his letters and they bring them all back that night!"

"Really?"

"Really," Ingrid agrees, gently locking the door to Starshine and Moonshine's cage," And Santa reads them with a mug of warm milk and cookies so he can prepare for Christmas."

"So he'll be able to make sure he can definitely do what I've asked for?"

Mapi smiles, crossing her fingers and hoping that what you've written in the letter is something that's already been bought for you. "What did you ask for?"

"For everyone else to get what they asked him for. I took it back to school and my teacher helped me write what everyone wanted so Santa doesn't forget."

"You're so sweet," Ingrid says.

"And Santa will make sure everyone gets what they wanted?"

"He will. I'm sure he's so grateful that you reminded him."

You nod, settling down in bed. "Good. No one should be sad on Christmas."

#woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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katsu28 · 5 months ago

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summer's golden haze - chapter three

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: bar hopping, damsels in drunken distress, and a late night heart to heart. (5.1k)

warnings: swearing, alcohol, lando talks about the hungarian gp shitshow

a/n: yes this is me maybe slightly projecting my feelings about hungary onto my characters okay! they're my barbie dolls to play with i can do whatever i want 😌↕️ anyways hope u enjoy <3

previous chapter | masterlist

“Hello? Are you even listening?”

You blink, bringing yourself back to reality and back to the current conversation. Your friends are looking back at you with matching concerned, albeit a little annoyed expressions. “What? Sorry, I was—I’m here, sorry. What’s going on?”

Samira tuts, but not unkindly. They all know you’ve got a million things running in your mind at the moment. “I was saying our dinner reservations got canceled. Something about the kitchen having to close down for maintenance, I dunno. Anyways, it frees us up tonight and we’re trying to figure out what to do instead.”

“Oh. We could stay in? Order some food, watch a movie?”

“I know what we need,” Camille gasps suddenly, eyes lighting up like she’s just had a brilliant idea. “We’re going bar hopping tonight.”

“Bar hopping? We haven’t done that since—” You pause, taking a moment to think. You haven’t been bar hopping since Samira got dumped by her girlfriend a few months back, the time before that when Maren finally cut ties with her situationship last year. The only time you all go bar hopping is after a breakup. They think what happened with Lando is the same as breaking up with a partner. “Guys, seriously, I’m fine. He was never even my boyfriend anyways!”

“Say what you want, but you’ve been super out of it these past few days. You need to let loose, do something that makes you stop thinking of Lando and start thinking about yourself again.”

You scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think about myself plenty.”

Camille rolls her eyes at you. “I mean not in that mopey, sad ‘I say everything is fine even though it’s not’ way. There’s more fish in the sea than Lando. Find one, or don’t, it’s up to you. But you need to forget about him.”

Your lips press into a thin line as you sink back into your seat.

You don’t want another fish in the sea. You want the weird little crab with the cute accent and the sparkly eyes, the one you’ve already let back into the water.

The one you can’t have.

Things haven’t been too awkward with Lando yet, but they definitely aren’t the same. Two people who really like each other but have decided to remain friends doesn’t really scream smooth sailing from now on to you. The wound is still fresh, and there are hints of it as you spend more time with the guys.

Immediately filling the empty seat next to each other like it’s second nature but then having to awkwardly scoot away when your shoulders bump or your hands brush. Lingering glances across tables and rooms until one of you breaks and looks away first. Finding him first in a place full of other people and drifting towards him, only to come to your senses and switch up directions at the last moment.

You wish you could say forgetting Lando would be easy. It really isn’t—not when your friend groups have basically melded into one big one, and everyone gets along so well. It would’ve been easier if you’d gone your separate ways, but you don’t think your heart would’ve liked that very much. Not that it enjoys skipping a beat every time you catch Lando’s eyes on you a little too long either.

You wrinkle your nose, brows following. “I’m sad and mopey?”

“A little bit.”

“Okay, fine. Fine, let’s go bar hopping,” You concede, letting your shoulders drop.

If you’re going to get over him, you might as well start right now.

That’s how you end up in bar number one of the night, four tequila shots on the bar table in front of you. You eye the unassuming little glass warily, even as each of your friends snatch one up eagerly.

Samira, as if sensing your hesitation, nudges yours toward you. “It’s one shot, babe. It won’t kill you.”

“I know that,” You insist, throwing your shoulders back. “I just…need a second.”

“Take all the time you need. We’re going all night.”

Tonight isn’t about your feelings for Lando. Tonight is about you moving on, moving past what could’ve been with him and looking forward to what might come next. With or without him.

You hold up your shot towards them, grinning big. “Here’s to moving forward, and making memories that’ll last a lifetime!”

Clinking your glass against all of theirs, you throw back the clear liquid as smoothly as you can, only wincing a little bit at the burn of it going down your throat. It isn’t your usual drink of choice, but change has to start somewhere, right?

-------

As far as bars go, this one isn’t the worst one you’ve been to tonight, but the fun has started to wear off for you. You’d stopped drinking around bar number two, the buzz of your much tamer drink choices after those first few shots starting to die down bit by bit. On the other hand, your friends are still going full steam ahead. You’ve honestly lost track of how many drinks they’ve had at the bars you’ve hit tonight, but they’re holding on pretty well.

“Fuck boys!” Samira exclaims, slamming another shot glass down onto the table with gusto. Maren and Camille agree wholeheartedly with identical slurred ‘yeah, fuck ‘em!’s that make you chuckle into your glass of water.

You know they’re just trying to make you feel better about your decision, and in a way, it helps. You’d finally been able to talk about what went down that afternoon without feeling an indescribable rush of guilt, and although they were disappointed at first, it became less when you’d told them why. They’re your best friends, and they know you better than anyone, so they know for a fact Lando’s lifestyle was not the one for you.

Tonight was supposed to be all about forgetting your feelings, but as the night went on longer and your inhibitions became lower, you still couldn’t help but think about Lando. That mental box you’d put him has burst wide open already.

You’re a little embarrassed to admit it, but you’d done a little research on him after getting home, which turned into a deep dive of his career, his life, anything that piqued your interest in him. You were curious to know what a guy like him saw in someone like you.

It felt a little weird to see him outside the Lando you’ve gotten to know him as, because he seemed…different. He’s still the same sweet guy you know, but on video he’s a more tame version of himself.

Carefully chosen words and shy smiles, he wears his confidence like a suit of armor on camera, to protect himself against the world. Here, he’s all bursting grins and loud belly laughs, unfiltered and so, so happy. He seems so normal, it’s hard to remember that he’s not just your everyday guy. Lando is one of the best and well known racing drivers in the whole world.

Making sure to separate the two is important if you want to stay firm in your decision.

Somehow it hits nearly four in the morning, and it’s about high time you make the executive decision to call it quits and go home. The only problem is, you’re the only semi-sober one out of the four of you. You have the car, but you don’t trust yourself to drive in this state. None of your friends are in any shape to be of any help either, not when Maren is nearly passed out on the tabletop, and Camille and Samira drunkenly swaying with each other right next to you.

You don’t really trust any rideshares at this time of night in an unfamiliar place, and even then, there’s no way you can get them all home by yourself. There’s only one other thing you can think of, one other person you can call to help you out. The one person you were hoping to not have to call.

The moment your finger hits Lando’s number, you have half a mind to hang up. You’re about to, but then the line connects.

“Yeah, what?” Lando’s voice is gravelly, thick with sleep. A little grumpy. Of course he’s grumpy, it’s nearing three in the morning and he was probably asleep. You feel bad that you've woken him up, but you couldn't think of anything else.

“Lando? I’m so sorry to be calling you this late, I just didn’t know what else to do.”

Immediately, he sounds more alert when your name leaves his lips. “Is everything alright? What’s up?”

You gnaw on your lip in contemplation until he says your name again, gentler this time. “We’re at a bar in town and the girls are really drunk and we need to get home, but I had a few drinks too so I didn't think I should drive. And I tried to call an Uber but at this time of night I don’t—”

“Hey, no, it’s okay. I can come pick you up.” He interrupts your rambling and you're grateful for it, because the more you talk the more you think this was a bad idea. You’re asking him for too much, you're stretching the limits of an already awkward friendship too far, you're— “Just tell me where you are, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Drop me your location and stay there.” You can hear rustling on his end of the line, pounding on a door, someone’s groggy voice saying something you can’t make out. Then Lando’s voice fills your ear again, soft yet firm. “Hang tight, ‘kay? Be there soon.”

“Thank you so much,” You breath, truly grateful. He hangs up, and you can finally let out a breath of relief. Lando is coming. You won’t be stranded here.

Lando jumps out of the car as soon as it pulls to a stop in front. He’s got on some nondescript jumper with the hood pulled up over his head and a random pair of joggers, and he definitely doesn’t look like he’d just been roused from his sleep. In fact, seeing him all disheveled with worry like this is kind of doing it for you.

You’re in the middle of apologizing again when Lando crashes into you, arms wrapping around you tighter than you’re expecting, nearly squeezing the breath out of you. You meet Max’s eyes over his shoulder, who you’d just realized was also here, and he doesn’t look surprised at all. He looks rather smug, actually.

“Are you okay?” Lando holds you at arms length, worried eyes scanning you for anything out of place, any injury. Other than your pride, you remain unharmed. Though that pesky fluttery feeling in your stomach is back again, as is the warmth in your chest, and it isn’t from the alcohol.

His hood has fallen off from the force of his hug to reveal the tornado of curls on his head, flat on one side from his pillow most likely, as are the lines on his face from what was probably a good night’s sleep. Until you called, that is.

You blink at him, caught off guard by the amount of care he still seems to have for you. It feels like an impossible feat to tear your gaze away from his. “Yes? I mean, yeah, I’m fine. You—wow, you got here fast.”

“I thought maybe something—nevermind.” He cranes his neck around you to glance at your half asleep friends on the bench. “Are…they okay?”

“Yeah, they’re fine. Tequila, y’know?” You shrug.

Max lets out a snort of laughter from where he’s wandered over to check on them, waving a hand in front of Samira’s face. She swats at him halfheartedly, mumbling a sleepy, “Fuck off, Fewtrell.”

“Sorry to wake you too, Max.”

“Oh no, you didn’t wake me. He did.” He juts his chin over at Lando, who still has a hand around your elbow. You can’t help but let your eyes drop down to it, and Lando does too, inhaling sharply before letting go. Still, the warmth from his grip lingers. “And not very nicely might I add.”

“I had to get you up quick!”

“You nearly took my head off with a pillow, you dickhead!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want a kiss on the forehead?” Lando snorts.

“Not from you!”

“Come off it already, won’t you?” Lando turns his attention back to you instead, rolling his eyes playfully when he finds you stifling a giggle behind your palm. “You said you had your car?”

“Um, yeah, it’s around the corner. We can just leave it here, I’ll circle back and pick it up in the morning.”

Lando clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “It’ll probably be stripped for parts by tomorrow. How bout we split up? Two and two?”

“Well, we all know who you want,” Max says knowingly. It makes your cheeks flame hot and Lando’s flush pink, but Max doesn’t waver in his shit eating grin. For some reason, you find his candid bluntness refreshing, even if it is poking fun at what’s going on (or not going on) between Lando and yourself. “You guys take Maren in your car, I’ll take these two and meet you at your house.”

Max manages to coax Camille and Samira to their feet with little trouble, and before you know it they’re off, leaving you alone with Lando and a very sleepy Maren. He rocks back on his heels, biting the inside of his cheek awkwardly, like he’s not sure what to do.

“Should we—”

“I think—” Lando bites back a laugh, gesturing for you to speak first.

“We should probably get going.”

“Right. Let’s get her in the car then, yeah?”

You couldn’t be less well versed in cars if you tried, but even you know the one Lando came to your rescue in is expensive. You’re almost too reluctant to even sit in it. But then Lando’s hand touches softly against the small of your back as he pulls open the door without hesitation, and you have no choice but to help Maren in.

Not like you had much of a choice anyways, what with him being the knight in shining armor to your damsel in distress call.

“Did you have fun? Before having to play mum to the girls, I mean.” Lando asks a little while later, not taking his eyes off the road.

You blow out a deep breath, sinking back into the plush leather of the passenger seat. The soft smoothness is heaven on your skin. “Kinda. The first few drinks, at least. Felt a little out of place, honestly.”

“What, you didn't charm some guy the same way you charmed me?” Silence fills the car like cement as soon as the words leave his mouth. A pang of something sharp shoots through you, something akin to hurt that flashes through your chest but is gone a second later.

No, you shouldn’t feel hurt. You’re the one who hurt him. Even though he’s told you over and over that it’s okay, it’s fine, he understands your decision, Lando has every right to express his true feelings, no matter how it makes you feel.

“Sorry, that was—that came out wrong. I just meant—”

“I know what you meant,” You say quietly. He wants to know if you met someone else, and the answer is no. No, you didn't meet another guy, because all you could think about was him. But you’re just friends. You’d made certain of it. So why did you feel like you’d done something wrong? “I didn’t meet anyone else.”

“Oh. Cool.”

“Is it?”

A muscle in his jaw clenches as he swallows thickly, nodding. “Yeah. I mean, if that’s what you want. What you’re looking for.”

“I don’t think I’m looking for anything right now,” Your voice is soft, nearly a whisper.

I’m not looking for something that isn’t you, you could add. You don’t. It wouldn’t do anything other than hurt him, and yourself, even more.

The rest of the ride home is basically silent, and Max is waiting on the sofa with the other two when you finally get there, entertaining a story that Camille is telling not unlike one would with a child, uh huh-ing and wow, that’s so cool-ing until he realizes you’re finally here.

You take over from then, thank him profusely yet again when he says he’s going to head home, before corralling all three girls into the bathroom like a zookeeper with their animals.

One by one, you help each of your friends through an abridged version of their night routines until they’re all ready for bed, and then you tuck them into the same bed as best you can. You’ve relegated yourself to the floor with a littering of pillows for the night. It’ll be easier to get to them if they need anything during the night if you’re all in the same room.

You’re surprised to see Lando in the doorway once you’ve gotten them all settled in for the night. You thought he'd left with Max, but apparently not.

He glances up as he hears you approach, frowning. “You’re gonna sleep on the floor?”

You shrug. “Yeah, it’s fine. I can keep an eye on them that way. You can, erm, you can go home now. Go back to sleep.”

“No offense, but I’m pretty sure they’ll sleep through the night. Plus, you must be knackered too. You should get some rest, yeah?” You want to say no, but your body’s response betrays you in that moment, because you yawn big, and it makes him chuckle. “Come on. Sleep in your own bed. I’ll watch over them.”

“No way.” You shake your head insistently, despite the enticing offer. “You’ve already done more than enough, Lando, I can’t ask you to stay up all night. I’ve got them covered.”

“You shouldn’t either.” He shoots back, chin tilting up in challenge. You match him as best you can with your eyes growing heavier and heavier by the moment, and eventually, he backs down, hands up in mock surrender. “How ‘bout we take shifts? The living room’s right across the hall, if we camp out there and anyone makes a racket, whoever’s up will be able to hear them.”

You twist your lips to the side in thought. “Deal. I call first watch though.”

“I can live with that. Why don’t you go freshen up, or something?”

“Is that your way of telling me I stink?”

Lando’s eyes glint with mirth, teasing smile curling his lips. “Maybe.”

“Well, maybe you don’t smell too good either!” That’s a total lie. He actually smells really nice, a mixture of remnants of his heady cologne from the day and something fresher, a little citrusy. His soap, maybe?

A hot shower certainly does wonders to sober you up the rest of the way, and as you’re toweling your hair dry enough to where it won’t be dripping water down your shirt, you take a good look at yourself in the fogged up mirror.

This is fine. You can spend a night alone with Lando without feeling anything towards him. You can do this. You’ve done harder things than this.

Lando’s frowning at something on his phone when you make your way back into the living room, scowling like whatever’s on the screen has personally wronged him. It isn’t the first time you've noticed his demeanor turn sour like this, and your concern is piqued each time.

You clear your throat as if to announce your presence, offering him a small smile when his head whips up. “Hi. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine. It’s just work.” He tosses his phone on the coffee table, dragging a hand forward through his curls, mussing up the front before raking them back. It doesn’t seem to do anything but make them messier, but you suspect it’s more of a nervous habit than anything.

He smiles back at you as you sit a respectable distance away from him on the sofa, though even that looks entirely forced. Something is wrong, and it’s eating away at him.

“Look, I know things aren't how they used to be with us, but I hope you know I’m still here for you. You can always talk to me if you need to.”

Lando gnaws on his bottom lip, head tilting from side to side like he's unsure. “Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Friends are there for each other.”

He blows out a deep sigh, sinking back against the pillows like a deflated balloon. “Yeah? You’re sure?”

“I’m a good listener, remember?” You nudge his knee with yours gently. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m all ears.”

He isn’t ready right away. For a little while, you sit in silence. You get the feeling Lando doesn’t have much experience with letting people in very easily, but it's okay. You’ll sit here as long as he needs to get his thoughts together.

Finally he speaks, but even then, his tone holds hesitance.

“I feel like everything is going to shit. The car is great this season, it’s better than it's ever been before, so that’s not the problem. It’s me, I’m the problem, I keep fucking everything up," He sighs, shoulders slumping. "And my team work so hard for me to be able to perform and deliver and I feel like I’m just letting everyone down, y’know? They deserve someone who can give them better than the shit stuff I’ve been putting out these past few races.”

Lando as a person is impossibly hard on himself, you’ve come to learn—always thinks he could’ve done better, even if what he’s already done is enough. The same is true when it comes to his job.

You’d know—you checked. In your uninformed opinion, the results he’s been achieving in the races are great. To be finishing high in the top five out of twenty of the best drivers in the world in almost every single race recently, it’s enough to make anyone proud.

But when you think about it from a competition perspective, a cutthroat drive with everything you’ve got, put everything on the line perspective, you get a sense of why he’s beating himself up.

To know he can win and still fall short, race after race…god, you can’t even imagine how he must be feeling.

You might be clueless still, but at the very basis of it all, you understand. Lando has worked so hard for so many years, put in blood, sweat, and tears, and he feels like he’s not living up to expectations.

You know what it’s like to have such high expectations placed on your shoulders and nearly be crushed by the weight of everyone counting on you. Surely not on a scale as large as his, but you understand the struggle.

Then he goes into the race in Hungary a few weeks back, and you can tell there’s some lingering hurt in him about what happened.

“It’s like they were guilt tripping me or something. Telling me I’ll need the team in the championship fight, that I should do the right thing and give up my position. Call me crazy, but that just didn’t sit right with me at all. They want me to be a team player and that’s fine, I’m happy to, but I dunno…” Lando trails off, nose wrinkling like the words leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

You notice him picking at the skin below his nail and move without thinking, closing the distance between the two of you and redirecting his fiddling fingers by linking them with your own.

It gets him to stop picking, but it also makes him stop talking. Whatever words are about to come out of his mouth die into a drawn out exhale, eyes drawn to your joined hands like a magnet.

“Yeah? Keep going, I’m still listening,” You urge gently, nodding. Lando blinks at you, as if he’s lost his train of thought. “Hungary? The team?”

“Uh…yeah. Right. I was—I guess I just didn’t think they’d pull all that crap over the radio. Like, everyone could hear what they were saying—other teams, the commentators. It was on live broadcast too!” His fingers tighten around yours ever so slightly, dark brows knit with frustration.

Even though you know close to nothing about the sport, what his team pulled seems like a dick move. You understand wanting to put their drivers in the best position possible, but airing things out on a radio where everyone can hear it feels wrong to you. Then again, you have no idea what goes on within a team at this type of performance level.

“It’s like, they knew I’d do what they wanted me to do and I did, but for a moment, I almost didn’t. I almost went against team orders, and that’s…” He laughs humorlessly, shaking his head. “You don’t do that. You can’t. You listen to what your team says and you do it, and that’s the end. My boss has been calling every now and then, trying to get me to talk and shit, and I just don’t really wanna talk about work right now. I don’t even wanna think about it.”

“Oh, Lando…” You sigh. Your thumb rubs circles over the prominent ridges of his knuckles, hoping it brings him some sort of comfort.

“I know I probably sound like such a brat right now, but I’ve given everything I have to McLaren and it still doesn't feel like enough. They want more, and right now…I’m not sure how much more I’ve got in me.”

“Can I be completely and totally honest with you right now?”

“Yeah, please.”

You hesitate, taking a beat to reply. You don’t want him to take your response the wrong way. “I’m not gonna sit and pretend like I have any clue what it’s like to be in your situation, because I don’t. But I do think you’re being too hard on yourself. Yeah, sometimes you might not get the results you’d hoped for, but you’re doing the best you can, and that’s all you need to be doing.”

Lando doesn’t need your advice, and you’re in no place to be giving any in the first place. He just needs someone in his corner, someone who cares about him to tell him that it’s okay to not be perfect. You want to be that person, even though you’re both still trying to settle into this new dynamic with each other.

Thankfully, your words seem to soak in, easing the tension in his shoulders just a little bit. “Thank you. I think I really needed that.”

“Glad I could help,” You say warmly, squeezing his hand.

“Y’know, I just realized that I’ve never said any of that out loud to anyone.”

“Do you feel better?”

Lando chuckles, and somehow, he even seems better. Like whatever was weighing him down was gone. “Yeah, I do. I feel…lighter, actually? Is that weird?”

“Not at all. That’s what letting things out will do for you.”

“Maybe. But maybe it’s more than that, maybe it’s…you.”

Your breath hitches in your chest. “Me?”

“You make me feel like I can be myself around you. Like, the real me, not the me the rest of the world knows me as. I feel genuinely happy around you, and I—I can’t just sit here and ignore it any longer. I still really like you. And I know what you said about us, and I know why, but I can’t help the way I feel around you. The way I feel about you.”

“Lando, I—”

“I swear I’m not trying to change your mind or make you feel guilty, or anything like that! I just had to say it before it made me explode,” He adds, exhaling shakily. “In the spirit of letting things out.”

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t been starting to question whether or not you’d made the right choice by deciding to walk away from Lando, because the more you get to know him, the more it chips away at your resolve. He’s kind and sweet and funny, and he gets you like nobody else has before. It’s been hell these past few days, tiptoeing around each other when all you want to do is kiss him senseless.

Right now, you want to kiss him senseless. He’s right here in front of you, holding your hand, looking at you with those stupid sparkly eyes. You want to say it’s the leftover alcohol buzzing in your veins making you feel this way, but that would be a lie too.

Fuck it.

You cross the already dwindling space between the two of you, sliding a hand around the back of his neck, and kissing him softly. Lando freezes for a split second, but before you know it, he’s kissing you back, guiding you closer until you’re nearly on his lap. His hands roam your back, curling into the material of your shirt, thumbing under it just a tiny bit to stroke at the warm skin there.

It isn’t at all like the first time you kissed. He lets you set the tone, following your slow lead without question.

You’re not sure how long you keep at it—lazy, gentle kisses punctuated with hushed giggles and tiny satisfied noises from the both of you.

Lando takes a pause every so often, pulling back just enough to look at you, take in the sight of you breathless from his doing, and every time, his mouth curls into a squinty, close mouthed smile. You can only bear the fondness in his expression for a few seconds before growing too aware of the way he looks at you and kissing him again.

Your brain doesn’t want to stop, but apparently your body decides you’ve had enough action for a day, because at some point you feel your eyes start to droop, chin following.

As if sensing your exhaustion, Lando pulls away, chest rising and falling heavily. He’s breathless, lips kiss-swollen as they curve into a soft smile. “We should stop. You need to get some sleep.”

“No! We should talk about this. Us.”

“I agree, but I don’t think you’re really in the right headspace to do it right now.”

“I’m fine! I’m okay, I swear.”

“You just nearly fell asleep whilst we were making out.”

“For a second!” You whine, letting your head thunk against his chest. A chuckle vibrates through him. “Don’t laugh at me, I’m tired.”

“Then go to sleep. We’ll talk about it in the morning,” He insists, lips pressed to the crown of your head. You sigh through your nose. You’d argue a little more, but Lando is right again. All you want to do is go to sleep. “I’m not going anywhere, alright? I’ll be here when you wake up, we can figure it out then.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

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#lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 x reader #ln4 #lando norris x you #ln4 x you #lando norris x fem!reader #lando norris fic #lando norris series #ln4 x fem!reader #lando norris imagine #summer's golden haze

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insertdisc5 · 1 year ago

Text

✨ The In Stars and Time Spoiler Q&A ✨

it's time. MASSIVE IN STARS AND TIME SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. IT'S GONNA BE SO LONG. LET'S GO

I hope you are aware of The Secret Final Boss because I'm also gonna spoil the crab out of that. If you haven't,

1. Did you know the events for interacting with your souvenirs are randomized for some of them, and also change depending on how far you are in the game.

2. Did you know there's a way to show souvenirs to a certain character.

3. Did you know you can go back to Dormont during the Epilogue.

Figure that out, and come back here! Or watch a let's play online. You can also do that.

I will also try to adopt a ~mysterious cool voice with no exclamation points~ for Effect. Come with me on this journey.

Now. Questions time!

✨ Will you ever make a sequel to ISAT, or make a game in the same universe?

Nah. This was always intended to be The Story. This is your turn to imagine things now.

✨ But so what happened to the Country? What was its name? What about the wishes? What about the colors? What did Siffrin say as an openphrase to open the door to the King's room? What about--

I will not answer those. It's your turn.

✨ BUT THE COUNTRY AND THE COLORS AND THE WISHES

Ok fine. Here are some facts that I alluded to in-game, that I am confirming now.

-The Country disappearing and the events that made colors go away are not related.

-The colors disappeared a loooong time ago, which is why knowing they even existed is a relatively new find.

-A wish made everyone forget the Country.

I will ALSO say that ISAT's map operates on Final Fantasy/General Fantasy rules (i.e. in-universe locations are based off of real ones when it comes to culture, but are not one to one parallels, especially for geography), so no, the Country isn't based on the UK oh my god please do not say that to me again or im deleting ISAT out of your computers and putting legos at the foot of your bed. It's based on another place. You can figure it out, I believe in you.

✨ But why won't you give more info on what happened :(

Can you imagine if I did answer. Wouldn't that be a bummer, whatever my answer was. Sometimes things need to stay a mystery. And also, I don't want to answer <3

✨ Does the world Loop came from still exist after they left? Or is this a get mystery'd situation?

There is only One Timeline and it's the timeline that goes from the prologue to ISAT. Every timeline that gets rewound does not exist anymore, and that includes the prologue's timeline.

✨ What's the deal with Siffrin's dream at the start?

It's Siffrin's dream, but that doesn't mean our Siffrin is the main star.

✨ Is [specific missable game moment] canon?

Every moment that you personally experience in the game is canon.

✨ Is there a reason Siffrin remembers their name but the King doesn't?

What makes you think Siffrin does?

✨ At the very very end of the game, if you look out the window behind the Head Housemaiden, Sif mentions seeing an island in the distance. Is that his country?

It is. It's always been there, for the whole game. You can see it in the distance, too.

✨ Who was the King, before?

He was just a guy!

✨ With the King left remembering in the end, does that in any way change the redaction effect for other people in the world going forward?

That's a fun idea. Maybe!

✨ One thing that never really clicked for me is: Is the sweet smell Time Craft or Wish Craft? Or is the sweet smell TIme Craft and specifically the burnt sugar smell is Wish Craft? Other way around? Does this question even matter since without Wish Craft you can't attain Time Craft in the first place? (To me, yes.)

Wish Craft smells sweet. Time Craft doesn't have a smell per se, but it does do something.

✨ Does Mirabelle retain her immunity to being frozen in time after the events of the game or does it go away after the Head Housemaiden is saved? Or does it persist for a while and eventually fade away?

I imagine the immunity slowly faded away. But no one's left to do Time Craft, so it's a moot point anyway.

✨ How was Odile able to stop Siffrin from looping back during the fight against Siffrin?

In the Discord channel I stated that it's because "she's just that cool", but really, she does have access to some skills that heighten the efficacity of Rock/Paper/Scissors attacks, so it's not too much of a stretch to imagine she could lower the efficacity of Time Craft as well. In this last loop, while listening to Loop and observing, she could figure out Siffrin was looping way earlier than she could in even the Sus Quest, so she made plans. She is Very Smart <3

✨ Will you ever share everyone's full names?

That's artbook content <3

✨ In the ending, what happened to Siffrin's hat?

Flew away. It's gone now.

✨ Looking back at the original comics, and seeing how comic!sif has both eyes at the start of their loops, but in ending sequences is shown with his eye patch...did you ever consider making that concept of sif losing their eye a part of the main loop in either of your games? and if so, was there any reason why you decided against it?

Early on, I did think about making that whole event an event that happens during the loops, but quickly let that go since 1. it would be a pain to write and code (two different sets of Siffrin portraits!) and 2. if it happened, the player might want to look for a way to NOT make that happen and so 3. it would be a pain to write and code

✨ How was Siffrin's homelife before?

Pretty good!

✨ How old were Nille and Bonnie when they ran away? How old was Sif when their home got zapped?

Both were teens.

✨ How old IS everyone?

Siffrin is mid-late 20s. Mirabelle and Isabeau are early-mid 20s, with Isabeau being slightly older. Bonnie is a preteen. Odile is Too Old For This. Petronille, Bonnie's sister, is late teens-early 20s. You can ignore whatever I said in the prologue's artbook, whoever wrote this was Wrong!!!!!!!!!!

✨ Regarding the book that talks about someone who crafted a copy of themself using wish craft: is that meant to imply someone we know is the author (and/or the copy), or is it not directly related to any of em? or is it a "who knows ;)" situation where we can just speculate and theorize either way?

Please check the book again during Act 5! This applies to most items/map events by the way, like the pendant. You can check those during Act 5 and 6 for some fun new dialogue!

✨ Why are Siffrin's clothes so warm looking?

The Country got cold at night.

✨ What's up with Siffrin's pins?

They're made out of a special material. And also, they make Siffrin look cool <3

✨ I want to know the story behind Loop’s different eye shades!

They're blind in one eye. Also, fun foreshadowing <3

✨ What determines whether someone is paper/rock/scissors craft? Is it assigned naturally at birth or something else (and how do you find out)? Does it make you more inclined to use that specific craft or is anyone generally free to use whatever craft they want?

Astrology rules, It Just Is A Thing. Being Rock Type means it is way easier for you to do Rock Craft, but that doesn't mean you can't learn other types of craft, although it's way harder. Doing Craft of your type is instinct, doing Craft of another type would take some time and resarch.

✨What crimes has Odile committed before. I need to know.

Odile just smiles.

✨ Why did the King specifically target the House of Dormont?

I had a reason in mind, but adding it to the game would've added a layer of Explanation that really didn't need to be there. It's just a nice House.

✨ Who was Odile's hatecrush...

Dunno. It's your turn.

✨ What is loop's body situation. like is the surface of their "skin" solid? they did poke siffrin that one time, and we know they aren't cold, but...

I have some idea. But it's your turn!

✨ Would Sif still have looped if they hadn't made the wish he made in the beginning? As in, would Vaugarde's combined wish have made him loop until managing to beat the King?

No. But without time powers, you can imagine what would've happened next.

✨ During the Loop Hangout, how did the rest of the team make it all the way to The King? What about during Act 5?

During the Loop Hangout: with difficulty. During Act 5: Loop was there to guide them.

✨ Is Loop: 1. Actually comfortable with both he and they, but only gave the one pronoun to emphasize the distance? 2. Only using they/them because a large life event led to a shift in identity/ how they'd like to be perceived? or 3. time lops stole he from they they :(

Mostly that first one. But all three of those reasons have a bit of truth to them.

✨ Who cooked crab in the House of Change???

This is a very funny question! I've never thought about it. It's your turn.

✨ What are the Orbs that open the gate? Did the King create the Gate or was it there before?

(did not think about the orbs or the gate beyond "plot that proves there was a journey before") Stop Asking Questions,,,, It's your turn,,,,,,

✨ Bonnie's dialogue is *extremely* accurate to how overexcited kids talk, which is really rare to see. Was that something that took a lot of effort to achieve, or did it come naturally to you?

Thank you <3 I'm just that good. Really, Bonnie is an adult with no filter, and less general knowledge. I'm very glad I managed to write Bonnie well, especially since. I haven't talked to a kid. Since I was one myself

✨ The Spoilery Concept Art. Blease

oh yeah. here have it all. this is what I gave Mimi to do the animated trailer!

✨ So. What's everyone's favorite shade.

FINALLY the question. Plus I can say shade names now. White = darkless, Black = lightless. Light and Dark is like light grey/ dark grey. Oh my god I'm checking my notes and I wrote a small event I never used about hair dye colors like "midnight dark", "tomato grey", "snow light" past me that's so fucking funny

Anyway, Siffrin loves darkless, Mirabelle is more of a light shade lover, Isabeau loves that lightless (BECAUSE ITS FASHIONABLE OK), Odile likes darker shades, and Bonnie also loves that lightless (BECAUSE ITS AS DARK AS MY SOUL OK)

✨ Are there any bugs you found during developments that you've made into features?

Two! The first one was the ability to ask Loop to just silently hang out during Act 4. I messed up the code and the game softlocked there, with Siffrin and Loop sitting there silently. I thought it was very sweet. They deserve a little quiet time.

The second was in Act 5 - the House map had a lot of issues with the Act 5 map bringing you back to the normal House map. So one of the testers got brought to the normal House map and didn't notice, and interacted with the Mirror on Floor 3, and it gave them the normal interaction with everyone seeing the mirror and taking a picture, and when they went to look at the picture in their inventory, it gave them the actual Act 5 picture. A little bit after they realized the game bugged out, and told me about it, and begged me to keep that in because they were very unsettled by it. So here it is! Beforehand, it was just Siffrin silently taking a picture, so I'm glad I changed it.

✨ Did you ever have emotional difficulty writing the more sensitive parts of the script, like Siffrin’s intrusive/negative thoughts, for one reason or another? Moreover, did you worry the script may be darker than your initial vision for it anticipated?

Not really. The Mirabelle and Odile hangout scenes were the hardest scenes by far because I really wanted to get them right, but everything else was about the same amount of difficulty. And actually, I wanted to go a little bit darker for the script, but I was worried it was going to be too dark... When it comes to the dagger event, I had a whole tangent about Siffrin thinking about the best way to strike, so to speak, but I deleted it because it was getting A Little Too Detailed. T rating come back to me

✨ For the questions you WON'T answer, did you have your own answers while making the game? Or were they left blank?

Some of them I do, some of them I don't!

✨ I loved this game and I want to replay it but I don't want Siffrin to go through everything again!

Here's a little fun fact I decided: if you hit the credits, you helped a Siffrin escape. If you start a new game, you are creating a new Siffrin that you can emotionally tortu-IIIIIIII MEAN, a new Siffrin that you can help. Do not worry about your Siffrins they are fine

✨ A lot of those answers ended up being "It's your turn", huh.

Yea <3 The answers to some of those questions ARE there if you look. Some just aren't. But you can imagine whatever you want. It's your turn! I finished the game! I'm done working! It's your turn!!!

✨ I loved ISAT and it made me feel so many feelings!

Thank you so much. I'm sorry if you sent a message or ask and I didn't answer it. I read every single one and cherish it! Thank you for playing and thank you for writing me a message!!!!! When I get a little down I look at all of those and I feel better. Thank you. I'm sorry I can't answer them all.

✨ What will you work on next?

I have a project I'm currently in the preproduction stages of. I don't want to talk about it until I feel like I have some stuff to show. Plus I still have to make the ISAT artbook and some other stuff, so it won't be for a while. Nonetheless, I hope you will enjoy it!!!

#in stars and time #in stars and time spoilers

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temporarywelcome · 4 months ago

Text

Jezebel - James Patrick March

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Being in an arranged marriage with James March, but he's already completely smitten with his new wife, despite the fact he knows she plans on killing him. Hey, it's kind of hot.

WARNINGS: some swearing, some violence, death, sexual implications but no smut

A/N: they're so Gomez and Morticia. They match each other's freak. Yes, I used the vows from the Corpse Bride.

___________

James March was a very interesting man.

The way he carried himself as if he had no care in the world was enticing. He radiated confidence and grace, and was, well, an overall attractive man.

And he was to be her husband. A fiance she never even met till tonight.

It was 1923, a time where this “dating” thing was becoming popular, yet here the two of them were, meeting three weeks before their planned wedding. March was slowly becoming wealthier and wealthier, but his mother demanded he be wed, with a woman to take care of his estate while he did his business. Someone to care for him when she would eventually meet her own unfortunate demise.

And so his mother found Y/N L/N, a pure beauty that many men oggled over obsessively. She was young, single, and his mother just could sense the compatibility when she saw Y/N’s lovely picture. Her son would love this girl.

Except there was more to Y/N than meets the eye.

Sitting at the dinner table, James eyed her in curiosity. “Did you come here from a funeral, darling?” he asked cheekily, his usual charming grin etched onto his face.

She looked up from her plate, raising a perfectly penciled in brow, “Why yes, actually,”

He scratched the back of his neck, not expecting that answer. He had just meant to make a light-hearted joke about her attire: the long, ruffled black dress and hat to match in color, adorned with black and burgundy feathers. To accompany the clothing were sleek black gloves, lace along the wrist area. “Oh dear, my apologies. I hope I have not offended you.”

“No no,” she waved a hand dismissively, “It was not for anyone I knew,”

“Oh?” Now he was intrigued, taking a sip of his wine, the same color of her plump lips, “Then why would you attend such an event?”

“Death excites me,” she replied, and he was sure he had fallen in love right then and there, “As well as I find grief interesting to no end,”

“Interesting?” the man asked, smitten beyond compare, “What is so interesting about grief, my dear?”

Her lips curled into a devious smile, “How everyone grieves differently. Some cry, others laugh, some don’t give a damn. What I find the most hilarious is people establishing relationships. At a funeral of all places!”

“Horrid indeed isn’t it?” he asked with a chuckle.

“It is! A splendid horror!” Y/N nodded in agreement.

March watched as she expertly cracked open a crab leg, impressed in her abilities to do so without juices exploding everywhere. “You’re a stunning woman, you know?”

She looked at him from her meal and that devious smirk appeared once again, “And you’re a very handsome man, Mr. March,”

“Tell me, dearest, how old are you? Have you ever wed before?”

It looked like she had to think about it, which March thought nothing of at the time, already completely smitten. “Twenty-eight,” she replied, “And yes, I have,”

“You have? And what had become of that marriage?”

“All three were tragedies,” she replied, bringing a piece of crab to her mouth with a fork. Three?! “I’ve sadly been widowed three times. A black widow, you might call me.”

Three marriages that ended in the death of her spouse? March doubted this was any bit coincidental. “What an unfortunate event! On all three accounts! How did these poor souls die?”

“Ah, all different ways. My first had a heart attack. The second, I still think to be my true love, committed suicide. Not because of me, of course, as he explained why in his letter. The third, he… he was tragically murdered one night,”

Oh how intriguing of a woman she was! March asked, “Murdered! In what way?”

“His throat was slashed,” she answered, “And he was drained of his blood.” Y/N then took a sip of her wine, not at all bothered by the fact.

James March smirked, placing his chin on his palm as he stared at her. Oh, how infatuated he was. He was sure those death were not as she said they were. He was sure she had something to do with it.

And he was sure as hell that if he married her, he would be her next target.

Oh, what a lovely woman he was so willing to marry!

________

The next three weeks went by in a blur.

Y/N would wake up to endless gifts being left at her door: trinkets, jewels, flowers, heels, silk gloves, anything a woman could dream of. He would call her on the telephone at five p.m. every day just before dinner, and for those three Fridays he would take her on lavish dinners and dates.

He went above and beyond for the woman he knew surely wanted to kill him.

It was now the morning of the wedding, and Y/N’s telephone rang. She curiously went to it, grabbing the device and bringing it to her ear. Grabbing the other part in her unoccupied hand, she spoke into it: “Hello?”

“Hello, my dearest, I am thrilled to hear your beautiful voice this morning. It reminds me of sweet honey: smooth and-”

“James?” she interrupted him, “Why are you calling this early?”

James laughed lightly, “Because today is our wedding day, my love. I cannot call you at five p.m. because at five p.m. you will be in my welcoming arms! Are you excited?”

“I’m trembling in desire, darling,” she replied, “I must attend to my wedding preparations,”

“You will look absolutely ravishing, my sweet. Oh, how I adore you. I will leave you to your duties, anxiously waiting to wed my beautiful bride.”

“I will see you very soon, my handsome king,” Y/N said, “Goodbye,” She hung up the two parts of the telephone and set it back down, preparing herself for her big day.

Her fourth big day.

The stylists got to work, putting her hair in rollers, painting her nails a shiny jet black, carefully applying her dramatic makeup. She went for walks all done out, she wasn’t going to be caught slacking on her on wedding.

Fourth wedding.

That James March knew of.

“How long do you plan on keeping this one for?” her loyal servant, Ms. Barnes, asked, blowing on the nail polish adorning Y/N’s fingernails. “He’s a handsome one.”

Y/N thought for a moment, “I’m unsure. He is actually… sweet.”

“And rich,” said another servant, Ms. Michaels, busying herself with Y/N’s hair.

“So was her second,” Ms. Barnes pointed out, “And he lasted three months.”

“His riches are not of importance to me,” Y/N told her servants, “I do not need a man’s riches when I have my own,”

“How true, Ms. L/N,” Ms. Barned nodded in agreement, “There is no point in having men if it isn’t for one’s own entertainment.”

_________

This was marked the best day of James Patrick March’s short life.

He stood at the alter adjusting his bow tie with the biggest grin a man could have as he waited for his beautiful bride to grace the audience with her presence. Practically the entirety of Chicago came to the celebration of their love, rows upon rows of guests laid out before him as he anxiously waited.

And then she came down the aisle, the orchestra expertly playing the familiar tune of Here Comes the Bride as she took each step. She didn’t just want an organ player, she wanted the whole deal. The organ, violins, a beautiful symphony as she had her big moment. And of course, James was quick to make the arrangement for his beloved.

She was an absolute beauty, in a large dress that took up most of the aisle’s width. Black and lacey, with tiered ruffles, off the shoulder to show off her soft shoulders. Her veil was also black lace, partially covering her face, the back half dozens of feet long. His fiance was a maximalist, and he made sure she was about to get an equally maximalist wedding.

The wedding went as planned. When it was James’ turn to do his vows, he raised his hand as previously instructed during the practice, “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” he raised his chalice, “Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine,” he poured the red wine into the glass. Red as her lips. Her signature color. He placed down the chalice, grabbing a lighter for the candle that was in front of him, “With this candle, I will light your way in darkness,” Finally, he grabbed her ring, the blood ruby shining in the light of the candle, “With this ring, I ask you to be mine,” he slid it onto her slender finger before pressing a chaste kiss to her knuckles.

Y/N perfectly recited the vows as well, slipping the ring onto his finger. They then took their glasses and took a sip of the sweet wine, before finally, sharing a kiss to seal the deal. James carefully moved her veil, revealing the face of the seductress that had his heart. His arms went around her as he leaned in, kissing her with all of the passion in him.

They were now wed.

The wedding activities soon began, the newly weds beginning their first dance. James brought an arm around her waist, pulling her close as they began to dance, “You look absolutely stunning, darling, you have impeccable taste of fashion,”

“Hm,” she replied with a smirk, “I think I have upset quite a few with the color of my dress,”

“To hell with them. All of them, jealous of your immense beauty,” said March, pressing a kiss to her jaw, “I just might be the luckiest man in this room. Such a dazzling woman I have in my embrace,” with a smirk, he whispered in her ear, “I could just die from excitement,”

_________

The next few months went by in a blur.

James March made sure to treat Y/N like a queen, spoiling her beyond compare. He knew she wanted to kill him, but did not say a word. She knew about his special new hobby. She didn’t say anything either.

Once the fifth month passed, Ms. Barnes, who was diligently doing Y/N’s hair, said: “I think we have ourselve’s a record. Five months, the longest you have kept a husband.”

She hummed in response, lighting a cigarette, “Correct. The longest. I have not become bored of him just yet.”

“Well, he’s not a boring man, Mrs. March,” Ms. Michaels mused, “He treats you like gold,”

“That he does,” Y/N said in agreement, a satisfied look on her face, “I don’t think any of my ex-husbands have treated me this well. It is quite… refreshing,”

“You don’t have to kill him, you know?” Ms. Barnes told her, “You’re allowed to find happiness,”

“But, Ms. Barnes, that is what gives me happiness,” she shrugged, taking a long puff of her cig, “There is just something so wonderful about…. Watching the life… leave their eyes,” she smiled sweetly, sighing in joy at the thought, “However, I quite like James alive. Perhaps I would need a new fix.”

Over the past few years (124, to be exact), Y/N had a cycle. She would tease herself, almost edge herself by only drinking the blood of animals to quench her thirsts, marry a man, and once she couldn’t handle it anymore, kill him. Usually in some fun, intricate way. Then she would feast on his blood until he was completely dry.

It was a fun game that has kept her satisfied for decades already.

Until now.

The thought of killing James March didn’t sound right to her anymore.

“We have a ball today,” she told her servants, “I’m sure I will find someone of use for the night,”

James had vowed to make two days of October the biggest spectacle of Chicago. October 30th, his birthday, which he named Devil’s Night, because he was dramatic like that. The day that came after was Y/N’s birthday, October 31st, Halloween, which very much fit her.

So not only was Devil’s Night a huge celebration, but so was Halloween, the night of James March’s beloved.

There was a soft knock on the door, and James entered the room, “My love! You look ravishing,” he practically pushed through the two servants, placing his hands on her shoulders, placing a few kisses along her neck, “Absoutely stunning, dear,” he then pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“James! You’ll mess up my makeup!”

“No matter, just reapply it. I’ll always buy you more,” James replied smugly, kissing her cheek again, “My beautiful wife. Happy birthday again. I feel my present for you would look lovely with your dress,” He glanced at Ms. Barnes and Ms. Michaels, “Shoo shoo,” he waved them off.

“Behave,” Y/N deadpanned.

“My apologies, dearest,” he said, though he obviously didn’t give a damn, “I just can’t wait to get you alone,” he nipped at her neck. Noticing the warning look in her eyes, he laughed, pulling away, “Fine fine, evil woman. Close your eyes while I give you your gift!”

Y/N smirked lightly, closing her eyes as her husband took out her gift. Obviously a necklace, feeling him place it along her neck, the large jewels cascading down her chest. He fastened the clasp, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck, “Open your eyes, darling,”

Her eyes opened, and she smiled in pleasant surprise. Of course, the necklace was adorned in huge diamonds, he was never cheap when it came to his beloved. “Oh, James, it’s wonderful!” she said, meeting his gaze through the mirror, “Thank you,”

“Ah, anything for you, my dear,” James smirked, squeezing her shoulders from behind, “My beautiful wife.” he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear fondly, “We could always be late to the party,” he said suggestively.

“Late? To my own party? I think not,” Y/N stood up, laughing at the pout on her husband’s lips, “Don’t fret, dear, I will be all yours when the night ends.” she promised, arms going around his neck as she stared into his dark, dark eyes, “But for now you must wait,” she stuck out her tongue, teasingly grazing his earlobe.

“You naughty girl,” James said in excitement, gripping her hips, ‘You Jezebel you,”

She giggled seductively, “All for you, my dear,”

Oh, she did not want to kill him. Not at all.

And so they left the room and made way to the grand spiral staircase. The couple stopped at the top, James releasing her hand, “Stay here, darling, let me introduce the star of the night!” he made the descent down each step until he stood at the bottom gathering the attention of the guests scattered all throughout their grand home. He introduced his wife, holding out a hand to her as she made her way down the steps.

Each step was careful and precise (like usual, her dress was huge), radiating confidence as she greeted her guests. Y/N took her husband’s hand, allowing him to bring her close.

The night festivities went as planned, Y/N certainly enjoying the effort her husband took into making sure her birthday went perfectly. He always went above and beyond for her, always seeking her approval. He was completely devoted.

After a while, Y/N purposely got separated from him in search of someone. A victim. If she wasn’t going to kill her husband, she had to kill someone else. She was tired of teasing herself.

It didn’t take her long to find some stupid man, some lawyer named George. He was quick to get handsy with her, so she led him off to one of the many guest rooms. He was desperately ripping at her dress, which she loosened up with an eye roll.

God she wasn’t in the mood for this.

She pinned him down to the bed, glaring at him darkly, tongue darting out to lick her lips. He was annoying. He didn’t have that sexy drawl like her husband. Those dark but comforting brown eyes. Those hands fit perfectly on her hips.

It wouldn’t matter to her if this man died.

And with a smirk, she raised a hand, each finger covered by a claw-like ornament, a gift from her loving husband, of course. He said it “fit her style”.

He was so right.

She let her index finger run along his chest, then slowly his throat, leaving goosebumps along the trembling skin, until with a swift motion, she swiped her finger, swiped the claw, and his throat was slit. Buying her face into his neck, she lapped up the sweet flavor of his blood.

Finally, she needed this.

As she hungrily drank, the door opened.

“Oh, dearest, whatever are you doing?”

Y/N shot up, head snapping in the direction of James March. Her husband. However, he didn’t seem terrified. Or pissed.

He simply laughed, arms going around her from behind, “My love is either a lunatic or a vampire. Or both.” he gripped the ribbons of her dress, tightening her corset to fix it, “I must say… It’s rather sexy.”

And so began a new dynamic.

James took it upon himself to do the dirty work. His wife should never get those soft hands dirty.

And so he did the killing, and she would watch, with a look of approval on her face. He would then take her hand and help her out of her chair and towards the body, admiring how she looked as she drank the man dry.

“That was supposed to be me, wasn't it?” He asked during one of their little “sessions”. “You wanted to drain me of my blood.”

She wiped her face with the back of her hand and she glanced up at him, “possibly.”

“It's alright, my dear, I take no offense,” he laughed, grabbing a cloth to clean off his knife. “I must have earned the right to live, huh?”

She smirked up at him, “not many would do this for their wives,”

And their dynamics continued. He killed, she ate, they had hot sex after.

And it worked well.

James ended up building a grand hotel, all of Chicago raving over it. The Hotel Cortez. He originally wanted to name it after Y/N, his beloved, but she herself told him that was a stupid idea.

They spent a lot of time there, whether it was to aid guests, host events, pass time, or even pick off a few victims.

After a while, they even began to discuss the possibility of children. James was dead set on two: a boy (named James March JR, of course), and a girl (named after you, of course).

Y/N made it clear she found that to be extremely boring. Just naming the children after themselves? How cliche.

Pretty much every night after basically rearranging her organs, he would lay with her and yap and yap and yap about how it's important for them to continue their legacies, and then he yaps some more about if the baby inherits her thirst for blood if it would be immortal and all these different questions.

They were planning for the future, until disaster struck.

A peaceful day in the hotel, James having his lovely wife in his embrace as he spoke to patrons. She went off on her own duties after a while, until meeting with James again in one of the rooms.

Something was wrong.

Once he saw her, he rushed to her and gave her a rough kiss, cupping her cheeks with such urgency, “My love….” He whispered, “someone ratted me out. Someone knew.”

“Whatever do you mean?” she whispered, hands going to his wrists as she looked up at him, “You mean…?”

“Yes, our little hobby,” March brought her against his chest, an arm around her waist, a hand raking through her hair, “Oh how I hope it wasn’t you who told. Don’t even tell me, I would be devastated,” he sighed, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“No, James,” she replied in a quiet tone, “I did not tell anyone. You know I love you.” She pulled away slightly to look up at him, “If I wanted you gone, you know I would have killed you myself.”

A soft smile reached her husband's lips as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Always the loyal wife. I adore you, my dear.” There was a hint of genuine sadness in his tone as he held her close. “Will you be the one to finish me?”

Y/N shook her head right away, “No!” she pulled away completely, “No, I won't. You've been the only husband I've loved. I can't…. I can't kill you.”

With another sad smile, he held her again, “I understand, dearest. Just… stay with me while I do it? Please?”

This couldn't be happening. It really couldn't.

But she nodded, face buried in his chest, “Yes… I'll stay with you,”

“Thank you, my love,” he sighed, kissing the top of her head. He held her for a moment before pulling away and taking her hand, sitting down. There was a knife on the table and he shakily grabbed it. “This won't be the first throat I slash,” he tried to joke, but it came out flat. James squeezed her hand as he brought the knife to his throat, but his wife speedily stopped him.

“I'll…. I'll do it,” she gulped out, trembling hand taking the knife from him and placing it back on the table.

“Are you sure? You don't have to, my love, I can do it myself.”

“No, no, I-I'll do it,” she repeated. Y/N seated herself on her lover's lap, arms going around his neck as she captured his lips in a desperate kiss. She could feel tears forming as she realized this would be their last kiss.

Her last kiss with the first husband she's ever loved.

Maybe this was her punishment for all of her terrible deeds. The universe taking away the one man she ever truly loved.

As they continued to kiss, she brought her clawed index finger to his throat, fingers trembling the closer she got. She pulled away from the kiss, “R-Ready?”

Despite everything, he smiled. “I'm ready, darling.” he pressed his forehead against hers, “I will always be with you,”

And with that, she slashed his throat.

Y/N let out a soft cry watching the life quickly leave his eyes, the one man she wanted to stay alive. “Oh, James…” she cupped his cheeks, kissing his lifeless lips. “I love you I love you I love you,”

She could hear loud footsteps coming up the stairs, and she knew it was time to go. She grabbed the knife, bringing it to his bloodied neck before placing it into her lover's hand.

And with that, she climbed out the window.

“I will always be with you,” the words hung in her mind as she went down the fire escape.

She didn't know he was going to keep his word, even in death.

---------

Yall i love him. inbox is open btw

#american horror story #ahs #evan peters #ahs hotel #james patrick march #james march #ahs x reader #james march x reader #james march x you #james march x y/n #james patrick march x reader #james patrick march x you

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fiber-optic-alligator · 5 months ago

Note

for the Halloween prompts, how about...

Depths

Anon, I provide you with mer Rodimus being a total idiot :D

WARNING: THIS STORY INCLUDES SAFE VORE. THIS THIS IS SOMETHING THAT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, THEN PLEASE DO NOT READ.

The late-day sun sparkles against the water, sending a scattering of light shimmering everywhere one might look. The boat charges through the waves with steady determination, rocking ever-so-slightly as it sails away from the little island sitting on the horizon. The vessel’s name, the Alcor, is painted on its side, but it’s faded from the constant exposure to the watery elements of the Atlantic, its gold coloring scuffed and chipping away in some places. The fancy dragon’s head painted on the bow’s side is no better: the coloring was obviously once a vibrant gold, but is now a dull version of its former self. The fishing boat is old, it isn’t difficult to realize. But according to her captain, old does not mean useless, and she still runs like a champ.

The Captain is an eccentric woman. You’ve known her since childhood, and it’s honestly a miracle that the two of you have been able to keep in touch ever since. You first met her when you were playing in the sand of one of the many beaches bordering the coastside town the two of you grew up in. Both of you shared a love for the sea, and would spend summer days among the waves and the sand, picking up rocks to search for little crabs and pretending to be sea dragons battling over territory within the water. The Captain is boisterous and proud, making friends everywhere she goes. You grew up to be her exact opposite: introverted and quiet and not at all the type of person she is today. Sometimes you wonder just how exactly you have managed to keep up with her for all of these years.

“How’re you holding up over there?” she yells to you from the cockpit. “Haven’t thrown up yet, have you?”

You look over your shoulder to shoot her a grin. Through the open window of the boat’s little room, you can see her hair waving in the soft breeze. Her skin is tanned from many days at sea, and the way she sways with the Alcor’s motions shows she is a true sailor. You admire how comfortable she is on the ocean. The Captain has always been called to the sea, destined to master the ways of boats and ships. Your skills lie in a different direction, however, and it’s apparent that you are not on the same level of experience as she is when it comes to this sort of thing.

“Not yet,” you shout back to her. “The water’s pretty calm today. I thought I would’ve hurled my lunch by now.”

The Captain laughs. “Don’t get used to it! The ocean has a mind of its own. I guess it’s feeling pretty decent today, but that’s sure to change. You’ll get your moment of seasickness soon enough!”

“That’s…not really something I’m anticipating.”

The Captain laughs again. “Ah, you landlubbers crack me up!”

There is a rocky outcropping rapidly coming into view with short spires popping up from the waves. The Alcor slows to a more leisurely pace as it approaches. You look down at the water and see your own warped reflection staring back at you. The ocean is so blue here. It’s so deep, so rich, so beautiful. You could stand here and look at it all day long.

The boat putters to a stop a good distance from the rocks, and the Captain drops the anchor. You feel the vibration of her heavy footsteps in the soles of your boots, and you can’t help but smile fondly when she claps a hand on your shoulder. “Whatchya lookin’ at?” she asks.

“The ocean,” you reply. “It’s so pretty here.”

“That it is.” She sighs. “It’s a fickle thing, the ocean. Sometimes it’s as nasty as a bull shark, and other times it’s as calm as a sea turtle. But one thing that never changes is its beauty.” She pats your shoulder again. “Well, you’re here to see the whales, aren’t you? They should be up at any moment now. Get that camera ready!”

“R-Right.” You fumble with the camera around your neck, raising it to your eye in order to calibrate it into focus. The Captain watches you with a grin. “You sure do love that thing, don’t you?”

“Well, it’s my job,” you say. “The theme for this month is the ocean. I thought some whales might be a good option.”

“They are. Whales are beautiful. I think it’s a great choice.” Her eyes light up. “Hey, I have some equipment down below that we can use for this! We can boot up the old hydrophone from back in my tour days. You wanna try it out?”

You look surprised. “We can use one of those?”

“Of course! Commercial whale watching companies use them all the time! Wait right here, I’ll be right back!” She descends the rickety stairs leading into the Alcor’s interior, leaving you alone. You huff goodnaturedly, smiling. That’s the Captain for you. When she has an idea, she goes with it, no matter what.

You listen to the water lapping gently against the boat’s sides, methodically, rhythmically. It is a peaceful evening, one where the sun hangs lazily in the sky and the clouds drift by like oddly-shaped marshmallows in the expanse of dark blue. You inhale deeply, tasting the scent of salt that the ocean provides. It stings your lungs and wakes you up. It’s a good feeling. Comforting.

The sun continues to dip down, until it’s gone for good and the ocean is cast in darkness. The Alcor’s lights automatically turn on, offering limited light that pierces through the vale. It’s a bit uneasy to be so isolated like this, with nothing but the ocean surrounding you. But the Captain is knowledgeable, and her boat is reliable. Civilization isn’t far away, and it won’t be difficult to return. You don’t feel in danger here.

You ready your camera, excited. There’s a pod of whales out here who only tend to breach during twilight. You plan on capturing their beauty and submitting it to the nature magazine you work for. It’s a steady job, one that pays well and grants you the opportunity to take in the sights you love to observe. You may not be like the Captain, but you certainly appreciate the ocean in your own way.

A splash draws your attention away from your camera and to the water. Looking over, you see some ripples not too far away that look like they were made by a jumping fish. Curious, you peer closer…and that’s when the boat rocks.

It’s not a violent movement, but it’s enough to make you sway and nearly lose your balance. Instinctively you reach out and grab the railing. It felt like something brushed against the Alcor’s underbelly. You go to the other side and peer down, just in time to see a flash of red before it’s gone.

“What the fuck?” you murmur. What was that? A fish? You don’t think you’ve ever seen a fish that color in these waters before. You pick up your camera, ready for a snapshot at any moment. Suddenly the twilight whales are far from your mind.

The boat rocks again. This time, you do fall over, landing on your bottom with an “Oof.” You wince, rubbing your lower back when you stand up. What the hell is going on? Could the whales be here now? It’s not unknown for them to be curious about boats. Perhaps one is brushing up to the Alcor in order to find out what exactly it is.

You decide to look over the boat, hoping you’ll catch sight of one. Instead, you find yourself meeting the gaze of a giant eye.

A scream is ripped from you. You stumble backwards, pressing yourself against the cockpit’s side. Boots pound against the boat’s stairs not long after as the Captain bursts from the interior, eyes wide. “What happened!?” she exclaims. “Y/N! Are you okay!?”

You point a shaking hand. “There…There was…a-a-”

“What? There was a what?”

“An…An eye.”

You’re expecting a much different reaction from her than what she displays. Maybe bewilderment. Maybe disbelief. Perhaps even amusement and a brushing off of what you saw as a poor joke. But when you look at the Captain and you see the fear in her eyes, you know for a fact that what you just witnessed in the water was not a mere figment of your imagination.

“Fuck,” she says. “Shit. That thing isn’t supposed to be back until next month.”

“Huh?” You have no idea what she is talking about. “What do you mean?”

She rushes for the cockpit and grabs the wheel. The boat fires up, engine roaring as she raises the anchor and begins driving. “It’s some sort of deep-sea creature that periodically comes to the surface to hunt! It messes with our fishing and enjoys toying with our boats, so we’ve developed a schedule for when it appears! But it’s way too early!”

“What the-are you serious?! I’ve never heard about this!”

“That’s because you’ve been gone for so long!” she yells. “It only started showing up a year ago! Just stay away from the water! Don’t go near it!”

“How am I supposed to do that?” you exclaim. “We’re surrounded by water!”

Something hits the boat hard. You reel forwards, arms splaying out in a desperate search for balance. The Alcor skips across a wave; you hit the railing and shriek when everything tilts and you find yourself falling over the edge.

“Y/N!” The Captain howls your name. Then all sound dies as you submerge beneath the water and a rushing of bubbles engulfs your senses completely.

Your first instinct is to cry out, but you catch yourself and slap your hands over your mouth to prevent any loss of oxygen. Opening your eyes, you can hardly see as you float beneath the waves. The water is murky and dark. You look up and you catch sight of the Alcor wheeling around to search for you. Lungs already burning, you start to go up, hoping you’ll make it in time before you lose air.

There’s something swimming beneath you. You feel the water ripple over your feet. You look down, and there it is. The eye you saw earlier. Only now there are two of them, connected to a face. A massive face staring at you, lingering just to the point where only the creature’s upper half is visible. It’s some sort of sea monster with accents of bright red, orange, and yellow. It reminds you of a lion fish, with the multiple spikey finials branching from the sides of its face, back, and arms. It looks at you, and makes a soft warbling sound, teeth bared. You can’t tell if it’s trying to smile or show aggression.

Well, you certainly aren’t going to stick around to find out. You start to swim again, heading for the waiting Alcor. Your chest aches, and you’re beginning to feel lightheaded. The sea monster keens; you don’t look back to see if it’s following. When you breach the surface and throw your head back to gulp down lungfuls of air, you hear the Captain yell your name.

“Y/N!” She’s leaning against the railing, panicked. “Are you okay!?”

“THERE’S A FUCKING SEA MONSTER DOWN THERE!” you gasp breathlessly.

“I know! Come on, get back on the boat!” She urgently gestures for you to swim.

You start to. You’re so close to making it. You see the boat’s little ladder in sight and you know you’ll be okay, you’ll get on the Alcor and get the hell out of here, never to see what you saw beneath the waves ever again.

Unfortunately, it has other plans for you. Before you know it, you feel yourself being lifted, water pooling beneath you and falling down the cupped hands of the beast as it rises up, bringing you close. You scrabble at the webbing between its fingers as you watch the Alcor grow distant with the height you are gaining. The Captain watches on in absolute horror. She looks like she doesn’t know what to do. You don’t blame her. There’s not much anyone can do when you’re being scooped up by a giant sea monster.

The creature peers down at you with a curious, almost excited gaze. Cooing softly, it brushes its thumb over your head, ruffling your already-soaked hair. You cringe away from its touch, covering your head as terror overtakes you. “No! Let me go!” you demand. “Please!”

It tilts its head, finned ears drooping as it watches you cower. It leans in and purrs, bumping its nose against your middle. You don’t budge, too scared to do much of anything.

Warm air whooshes over you as it huffs. You peek your eyes open just in time to watch it part its lips, showing off a mouthful of shark teeth and a waiting tongue that immediately licks you, spreading saliva all over your body. You sputter and squirm.

Dear lord. It’s going to eat you.

You don’t have time to react. It’s just too quick with it. Before you know it, you’re being shoved into its mouth, dexterous tongue curling around you and dragging you back towards its waiting throat. You scream, thrashing with all of your strength, reaching out a shaking, saliva-covered hand towards the last sliver of the outside world you might ever see. The sea monster slams its jaws shut, sealing you inside its maw. It gives you no moment of reprieve; already, you feel your legs catching in the powerful ring of muscle waiting behind you. A gulp resounds through your skull and makes your ears ring.

With one last cry for help, you are sucked in, disappearing behind layers of skin and scales, swallowed down into its depths.

#gator writes #transformers #transformers g/t #rodimus prime #mer rodimus #merformers #rodimus x reader #transformers x human reader #soft vore #safe vore #extreme cuddling #g/t fearplay #giant tiny #g/t #spooky season

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skythealmighty · 6 months ago

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why am i just now finding out about thisisnotawebsitedotcom i feel a little stupid.. then again i dont have the Book of Bill so maybe im lucky to know about it ???

#rocket talk #gravity falls #miss this show. anyway twink cipher fuckign jumpscared me

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Why Flatland counts as an object show: an essay

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Why Flatland does NOT count as an object show: a rebuttal

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⛓️ chainsaw-massacres Follow

why flatland isnt an object show: its a book + movie you assholes

#this argument is fucking stupid its just flatland

(3,821 notes)

🔘 join-my-evil-polycule-deactivated08142020 asked: Im going to tear apart your circuitboard until its broken irreparably

🌈 super-rainbow-epic-computer Follow

lol ok have fun w that 👍

also do u know any recipes for roasted pumpkin seeds the internets failing me rn and im cooking a big dinner for me and my bf

🔘 join-my-evil-polycule-deactivated08142020

Oh yeah sure https://www.jessicagavin.com/how-to-roast-pumpkin-seeds/#wprm-recipe-container-35845

🔘 join-my-evil-polycule-deactivated08142020

Wait why am I telling you this go die I hate you

🌈 super-rainbow-epic-computer Follow

thx for the help!

☝i-date-iconic-posts Follow

Date of origin: November 3rd, 2021

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❌ mephonex-deletes-your-favs Follow

~~Welcome to MePhoneX deletes your favs!!~~

I'm mod Xav (the only mod rn - -"), here to cause trauma to your favorite characters :)! PLEASE keep in mind that submissions will take a while to get to, because I have to photoshop out the limbs + background or even completely recreate someone's object if they're transparent!

The background flag is in the header and the X (recreated from an image of MePhoneX) I overlay on top is the profile picture if you want to make your own :) just @ this blog and I'll reblog it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~❌~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

RULES ABOUT SUBMISSIONS:

NO INANIMATE INSANITY CONTESTANTS. I would like to avoid Apollo's Dodgeball thanks (plus it's insensitive)

No algebralien or algebralien-adjacent characters! I love those guys too I get it but I honestly don't have a good method of 'deleting' them planned. Feel free to do it on your own time though!

If someone asks me to take down a submission with them in it I will do it without questions. This is for a variety of reasons, but I think you get it.

Alright, that's it! Have fun :)

#not xed out #mod xav #pinned post #your fav is #your fave is #mephone #mephonex #inanimate insanity #ii2 finale

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📁 sticky-note-hit-post Follow

has anyone else wondered why this spaghetti code webbed site can connect across DIFFERENT UNIVERSES??? or is that just me

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🦀 thesamepictureofbaxtereveryday Follow

follow for the same picture of my crab every day!!!!! look at him :D

(3 notes)

anonymous asked: greeny how does it feel to be technically a higher being than most other people on the site

🟢 greenyguy Follow

sir this is a wendys

#i didnt order an existential crisis today :(

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🎤 screamintothemic Follow

todays liveblog!! B)

🎤 screamintothemic Follow

knife and suitcase made it to the finale!! hell yeah so proud of them

🎤 screamintothemic Follow

balloons talk with suitcase didnt go so well :/ i hope they can get some alone time without anyone else so they can like talk properly next time

🎤 screamintothemic Follow

mepad???

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oh i think the finale challenge is happening

🎤 screamintothemic Follow

baseball looks worried but lightbulb's brushing him off :|

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ojs backing away from paper??? wh

🎤 screamintothemic Follow

WHJDT THE FUCK

🎤 screamintothemic Follow

WAIT I HAVENT SEEN SOAP IN A WHILE WHERE IS SHE???

🎤 screamintothemic Follow

OH GOD

#mics ramblings #SOAP???!??

(11 notes)

anonymous asked: evil woman are so hot <3 i will do whatever you want queen

🌐 dr-who-could-never Follow

Awwww, this means a lot to me, anon! Could you find Film Reel for me and doxx him? That would be really helpful <3

#He's been evading me #It's really annoying #Hard to take over the world when I have to worry about him 🙄

(6 notes)

🥄 only-a-spoonful Follow

WHY DO I KEEP GETTING SENT ASKS ABOUT PREGNANCY?!

#I'M GOING TO QUIT TUMBLR AT THIS RATE.

(47,284 notes)

📗 journal-of-secrets Follow

if this fuckass hand keeps showing up at the edge of my vision i'm going to hit something

📗 journal-of-secrets Follow

#maybe hes in love with you

what the hell is wrong with you.

#unreality #fake dashboard #rocket talk #roc save #osc #object shows #osc community #object show community #twisted turns reboot #twisted turns #the daily object show #tdos #inanimate insanity #paper puppets take 2 #ppt2 #ppt2 osc #greenyguy

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mistriavalley · 4 months ago

Text

Alex with an insecure chubby farmer (gn!farmer)

Note: Got this idea from @hermits-crab. I also had sm fun writing this! I struggle a lot with my own body image so writing these headcanons brought me some comfort :3

TW: negative body image, negative comments from the past, farmer is insecure, mentions of bullying from the past

Masterlist

Alex has never and will never give you any reason to feel insecure or self conscious about your body. He worships not only you, but the ground you walk on as well and he honestly would have never thought that you'd feel bad about your looks. You're perfect in his eyes. Godlike even

But while he rolls out the red carpet for you, you still can't help yourself. Alex is so athletic and fit and you feel like people are judging you for being on the bigger side. Of course no one has ever said anything regarding that in Pelican Town. On the contrary, when you confided in Haley she praised you and your figure

You still can't help, but to wonder what his friends in the city or from gridball practice might be saying when Alex shows them pictures of you though. Are they saying "you lucky bastard" or "as long as you're happy"? It's eating you up from the inside, but you don't wanna bother your partner with that

And when you guys go on a date or shopping in the city, do the people around you actually stare at you and whisper amongst themselves or are you just imagining it? Nevertheless, the thought alone that someone might be judging you makes you wrap your arms around yourself to hide

It takes an embarrassingly long time for Alex to notice anything and even then he only does, because it's painfully obvious in that moment. Like you're out on a beach date and you refuse to get out of your baggy t-shirt even though you're obviously suffering from the scorching heat. That's when it clicks inside his head and his heart breaks

He walks you back to your farm after the beach date and sits down with you to talk about it. He wants you to trust him with these things and for you to know that you can talk to him about anything. When he hears how worried you are about what others might think when they see "someone like him" with "someone like you" he grabs both your hands and squeezes them gently

After he asks why you'd worry about such a thing, you explain how you've gotten comments thrown at you in the past and how every single one stuck with you to this day. It makes him angry and he wishes he would have met you sooner so he could punch every single person who has made you feel bad

Alex knows what it's like though. His father has made him feel like shit his entire childhood, but you've helped him get rid of these negative thoughts and he wants to do the same for you. There is obviously no pressure, because he understands that you can't shake these chains off in one day, but he'll do everything to make you feel loved and appreciated

That evening and every single one afterwards, he leads you to bed where he showers every inch of your body with kisses and praises. Also due to him working out so much and his lifestyle in general, he knows a lot about the human body. So if you stumble upon a "fitness guru" online talking about how unhealthy it is to do this or look like that, Alex is jumping in immediately to correct the person before it gets to your head

"But my BMI-" "No. Don't. BMI is a faulty system in more ways than just one. I'm not in the green area either, because of the weight from my muscles."

Or when he notices that you refuse to get a second serving even though you're still hungry or when you decide not to order a desert when you clearly want one. "You have to eat if you're hungry, baby. You're doing hard physical work on your farm every single day and your body needs the energy."

"I've gained weight again..." "Baby, listen to me. I'm 100%- no 500% certain that those are just muscles. You're lifting, pushing and pulling stuff on your farm from morning to evening. It's fine. You are fine."

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv x reader #sdv headcanons #sdv alex x reader #sdv alex #stardew valley headcanons #stardew valley alex x reader #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley alex

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vulpixisananimal · 9 months ago

Text

[BETWEEN ACT 1 AND ACT 2]

(. . .)

(They. . . They weren't nightmares.)

(You figured that much out a loooong time ago.)

(They were too real, too consistent, and stuck in your crabbing head. Once you had a nightmare, you could remember ever detail.)

(Every word, every step, every smell, every, every. . .)

(You shakily count your ribs, one, two. . . Not broken. They're still there. You're ok, you're ok, you're ok Boniface. It, i-it didn't happen, even, even if, it, it felt-)

(You curl up into a ball.)

(Even if you felt bones snap, your body break, crushed, squeezed untill-)

(You woke up.)

(That must have been when 'Frin whent back, right? A-at, at least they did, after you, after you. . .)

(You roll onto your side.)

(Don't cry, don't cry don't cry don't cry. You, you can't make a scene, your sister is sleeping right there, and if she knows your awake, she'll ask questions, then be worried, then, t-then. . .)

(You couldn't let them know.)

(None of em, you knew it was dumb, stupid. But, that was the rule wasn't it? "It's a secret between you and the Universe." So you can't tell anyone! Ever! Stupid crabbing wish, you didn't even know if they found out, would you loose it? This weird crabbing trick!!)

("Don't wish for something big" you just wanted to help.)

(You really try not to cry.)

('Frin told you about the, the time loop? Yeah that. A-and, about their home, and their memory. You hated it!! That was their home!! Their family!! YOU were their family now too!! That's, that's just unfair!!)

(You never wanted 'Frin to go through that again, being alone, being forgotten. You wished you wouldn't forget them, forget your time with them.)

(A-and now, now you could remember. First, it was deja vu, then, it was nightmares, then the nightmares started sticking. Then, it was Jouvente. 'Frin looped again, and you could remember it. You burnt the food, and 'Frin noticed. You can't burn it!! You gotta keep it the same way, ever, time!!!)

(Stupid. You're stupid stupid stupid so CRABBING STUPID!!!)

(Stupid. . .)

(You close your eyes.)

(You gotta go back to sleep. You gotta act natural. Like 'Frin did. It was, it was kinda amazing to see how well he was at acting. Scary, really. You should be more like 'Frin.)

(Hehe, you kinda were. You're like a secret agent, or, or a uh. . . Masked hero? No that's lame. You're so much cooler. You got superpowers now! You remembered when Ramos first grabbed you, you felt a tingling in your head but nothing happened! Then again, when 'Frin reset the day, then again when Ramos showed up and-)

(DON'T THINK ABOUT IT!!!)

(Think about something else, uh, breakfast!! YEAH!!! What would you make for breakfast!! Just, just don't think about what happened that loop!! C-cause, cause, it's, it's kinda like if you mix baking soda and vinegar!! Y-yeah!! If, if you mix two things, two uh, wishes? A-and, and they mix wrong, t-then, then.)

(You'd, you'd be stuck, being forced, to try and remember something you CAN'T remember. I-it, it hurt, it hurt a lot.)

(You're so, so stupid.)

(You breathe in, and out.)

(Go back to sleep. You'll be ok. You gotta brave another nightmare. O-or, maybe this one won't be so bad. You had to brave it, 'cause, 'cause with all this mind crab going around, if you're immune, t-then that'll be a big help!!)

(. . . If. . . If you get a nightmare like that again, you're telling. You, you couldn't live that again. . .)

(. . . Oh, that's why 'Frin never looked 'Nille in the eye.)

(You cry, just a little.)

(Stupid.)

#:)#i'm going to hell #tee hee #art #isat #in stars and time #isat spoilers #isat art #isat fanart #siffrin system au #isat au #isat bonnie #isat fanfic #if this needs any TWs let me know

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everythingpeaches · 8 months ago

Text

In Which Sirius is obsessed with Remus' mouth.

Sirius, it has become apparent, has a bit of an oral fixation.

Remus, in turn, has an unfortunate habit of putting things in his mouth.

It is becoming a problem for Sirius.

One day in transfiguration, he accidentally misfires the spell he was aiming at his white rabbit and turns James' textbook into a very fine hat.

'Oi!' The quidditch captain yells, making Sirius jump and turn away from where he was watching Remus chewing absently on the end of his pencil.

That same evening, he is caught again by Lily who is lecturing him on his attempt to bribe the fat lady to change the password to the Gryffindor tower to 'James Potter has crabs'. It's a fair retaliation to James' own retaliation from his earlier mishap with the hat, in which James had charmed Sirius' hair purple.

'Sirius, are you listening to me?' Lily asks, who is not unused to Sirius' ignorance but is particularly intrigued by the vacant look on the Black heir's usually haughty features. She follows his gaze to see Remus, sitting with Mary and Marlene, scribbling away at his Care of Magical Creatures essay and sucking enthusiastically on a sherbet lemon.

Ah. That explained that then.

The next morning at breakfast, when Remus is licking jam from his knife, Sirius misses his mouth entirely and dribbles tea down his chin in a rare display of clumsiness.

He misses a bludger and nearly falls of his broom in quidditch practice when Remus, who is watching from the stands, lights a cigarette and plucks a stray piece of tobacco from the corner of his mouth.

His friends have started to notice, even James and Peter, who are usually painfully unobservant when it comes to their fellow marauders' love lives.

Mary buys Remus a whole packet of sugar quills on their next trip to Honeydukes.

Marlene keeps asking the werewolf to roll her cigarettes for her, stating that her tongue is 'just too dry' to do it herself.

Sirius smells a conspiracy.

'You know,' James says to him one evening around Easter while Remus is sucking on a piece of Peter's chocolate egg, 'there's a way to get over this obsession you've got.'

'What? I don't know what you're talking about,' Sirius says in a very unconvincing attempt at nonchalance.

Remus licks melted chocolate from his fingers and Sirius, in turn, knocks his ink well over, covering his muggle studies homework in sticky black liquid.

James laughs, clearing up the spill with a flick of his wand.

'Just snog him already, will you?'

Sirius pretends not to hear him, his pale face turning a very Gryffindor shade of red.

The next day he and Moony are sitting in a quiet corner of the library. Remus actually has work to do, and so does Sirius but he is only pretending to study, and keeps shooting Remus looks out the corner of his eye.

'Pads,' Remus starts, making Sirius jump, 'your book is upside down.'

Shit. Remus is smirking at him, his eyes glinting with that ever-present slyness that makes Sirius’ palms go sweaty.

'Yes, well, I'm a very talented reader,' Sirius replies quickly.

'Hm,' Remus hums, flicking the page over in his own book. He glances at the text in front of Sirius, and a smirk tugs again at the corner of his mouth. 'I never knew you were so interested in flower arrangement charms.'

Sirius looks down at the book, flipping it right way round and reading the chapter title. Well bollocks. He looks back up at Remus, who is leaning forward with his chin on his palm, his expression almost daring. It gives Sirius a sudden burst of confidence, something he only ever seems to lack in the presence of the boy before him.

'There's a lot you don't know about me, Lupin.'

He's flirting.

'Is that so, Black?'

Remus is flirting back.

'Yes, lots of things. I have many interests.'

They are both leaning closer to each other, so close now that Sirius can count the freckles on the other boy's nose. His heart is beating in his ears, and he involuntary wets his bottom lip with his tongue.

'Such as?' Remus asks, his eyes darting down to Sirius' mouth and then back up to meet his gaze with an almost indiscernible arch of his brow.

'Well... you,' and with that, and a rush of giddy adrenaline, he closes the gap and kisses Remus. It's electric. He thinks he might fall off his chair.

Moony is just starting to lace his fingers through Sirius silky black hair, which feels better than Sirius could have been prepared for, when there is an almighty crash from the shelf behind them.

'Yes!' Someone who sounds suspiciously like James Potter hisses, then 'ah fuck!' And a very Lily Evan's sounding 'Shhhh!'

The two boys spring apart and turn to see James, Lily, Mary and Marlene spilling out from behind the toppled bookshelf.

'Fucking hell, Prongs!' Sirius shouts, forgetting they are in a library.

'It was Mary's idea!' James protests, receiving a smack up the back of his head from the girl herself.

'Was not,' She hisses, 'it was a collective effort!'

Remus rolls his eyes, 'You're a bunch of voyeurs.'

'Out!' Comes Miss Prince's angered shriek, hurrying towards them in a fury. '-making such a racket, get out this instant!'

The group scrambles to their feet, hurrying through the shelves to the exit. Remus and Sirius lingering only to gather their books, but before they could hurry after the others, Remus quickly grabs the shorter boys arm and pulls him close, dropping one quick kiss onto his lips.

'Took you long enough,' he mutters, and then follows the rest of the group out of the library leaving Sirius to follow behind, looking very much like he's just been struck around the head with a beaters' bat.

#wolfstar #marauders fandom #dead gay wizards #marauders era #hp marauders #james potter #lily evans #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar fic #remus x sirius

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thestraybunny · 2 months ago

Text

I (do)n't need you Pt. 3

Pairing: Non-Idol Joshua Hong x Afab!reader WC: 12.7k Genre: Non-Idol AU, Exes to lovers Rating: E (18+, MDNI) Warning: Angst, Drinking, Fluff, Joshua is just beautiful, bad communication actually shit communication, Smut, Protected Sex,

Summary: How will this date go? Will it give hope for a brighter future or will your doubt nearly cost you that chance?

A/N: Wow.. I can't thank you all enough for the likes and reblogs. As I mentioned before, this fic was already done so they able to go out quickly. The 3rd installment was going to be Wonwoo, but for timeline purposes it will be Jeonghan. All these fics can be read as standalones, but for my own sanity, I gotta write it in timeline order. Keep an eye out! Enjoy Part 3! Part 1 and Part 2 K-Series Masterlist

Pretty U was a quaint little restaurant, and it was clear walking through the door why it was such a popular spot. It provided a perfect atmosphere to spend time with friends, or even have a date night. The inside dimly lit with small tables littering through the space, only to spill out onto a patio that was lit up by twinkling lights with hints of dark purples and greens. It was where the two of you were quickly seated at.

Your table covered with a deep purple tablecloth and lit up by two tealight candles floating in a small bowl of water and clear water beads. There were little fall leaves inside and the beads gave the illusion that they were suspended in the water.

“Jeonghan already stole like five or six of these candles, and I can’t tell you how many of those little decorations, last time we were here they were little whales and crabs. He’s taken to leave them all over my damn apartment and the others. Jihoon is about to ban him if he finds one more in his studio at work. One time, he successfully managed to dump the water and leave with the vase, beads and little decorations too,” Joshua told you in a low voice, an amused smile playing over his lips, his eyes on the menu. You let out an unsurprised snort of laughter, accompanied by an eye roll, focusing on your own menu.

“Why am I not surprised?” You ask, and the both of you looked up at the same time.

“Because it’s Jeonghan.” You both say this in unison, then burst out laughing. Pure genuine laughter at sharing the same thought, something that was nice to do again with him.

“I swear, his cabinets are filled with the random dishes that he’s stolen from restaurants around here and when he was abroad. I still don’t know how he manages to not get caught ever.” His laughter made your heart start to flutter and swell. You didn’t realize how much you missed hearing it or seeing his smile so wide that his eyes were close to squinting, as much you did. Or how good it felt to be able to do this with him again. It gave you hope that everything will work out and be okay, “He did claim he had an accomplice this time but refused to disclose who or anything about that night.”

“Maybe he’s dating someone, and not ready to tell you guys yet?” You suggest, and Joshua pretended to look offended that you would even suggest something like that. “Or it just happened to be a date that just didn’t go well. Or, even worse,” you fake a gasp, and he looks up you with raised brows, “He was out with another friend and knows how jealous you twelve get if it’s anyone but y’all.”

“Okay, smartass,” Joshua rolled his eyes, and you just stick your tongue at him. He was then quiet for a moment, appearing to be focusing on his menu, “You might be right about seeing someone. He did almost say someone’s name last night but stopped himself.”

“I bet you’re heartbroken that he almost called you someone else’s name.” Joshua shot his tongue out at you at your response this time.

“Whoever they are though, didn’t come out for his birthday. So who knows honestly. I am a little hurt he didn’t tell me or Coups.”

“Yoon Jeonghan is the definition of never let them know your next move. I can see him go through an entire relationship, and an engagement without telling a soul. Only for you to find out when he invites you all to an unknown location and be like ‘Surprise! I’m getting married.’” You giggle, as you look over your menu at him, catching that he was watching you with a smile on his face.

“You aren’t wrong there, but as his best friend, it’s not allowed to happen.”

“Of course, I’m not. I have a Kami, who is essentially the female version of him.” The tip of your boot gently taps his leg, “Which I think we should be happy the two of them can’t stand the sight of each other and never actually became a thing. The world would be a terrifying place with those teamed up.”

“What if it is Kami that he’s dating?”

“Was it her name he almost said?”

“No.”

“Then no. Besides, Kami is on a women only kick. Jeonghan is pretty for a man, but he’s not that pretty,” You tell him, and he only chuckled, both of you returning your attention to your menus, a comfortable silence falling over you both. “What are you getting?”

“I am thinking about maybe the steak and the Aglio e Olio. What about you?”

“That sounds good. I think I might get the steak too, but chicken alfredo instead of the Aglio.” You answer back, then look up to him. “I take it you aren’t drinking since you drove here?”

“I might have a glass with dinner, if we aren’t going to do a movie, we can grab a coffee after and walk around here after all. I saw a group busking down the ways, we can always check them out.” He answers, looking over the wine list, “If we do that, I should be okay to drive when we leave. Are you planning to have some wine?”

You purse your lips, looking down to your menu, not saying anything at all. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him drinking, you didn’t actually care if he does, but you didn’t think it was a wise decision. Still without answering him, you looked out from your seat to the people walking by, and the growing night life. Seeming to be lost in thought.

Hell, it was a nice enough night out, the nights have been a lot cooler than they had been that summer, and you weren’t actually that far from Joshua’s apartment. Maybe you didn’t have to stop at walking around the marketplace, the two of you could easily walk back instead. Enjoy the changing season, and the cool night air. Not stop any conversation you would be on.

Your lack of response, however, seemed to have set alarm bells off in him, because Joshua looked up with a concerned expression on his face. Feeling his eyes, you turned your attention back toward the man sitting across from you. With a tilt of your head, you decided to question him in Korean, “What?”

The two of you would go back and forth between English and Korean, and while you mostly spoke in English, both languages came out naturally in conversations. Most times it wouldn’t be until one of you forgot a word in either language when you figure out which one you were talking in. Or you two would knowingly change the language.

“Is that a problem?” He asked back in Korean, and you had to tell yourself that the words were not as condescending as you would normally take them. The question was more out of worry then with attitude, and was genuine due to your silence, “I don’t have to drink.”

Before something like this would have started a fight, tones and looks being misread by the both of you. This would lead to either a smart assed comment or snapping at each other before one of you ending up leaving; with it being you leaving more times than him. It would leave the other to sit there with eyes on them and pay for the untouched food served.

At the time, instead of working it out by talking, you were just consumed with hurt and anger over whatever petty argument was happening. Often times with no significance.

“No, if you want to drink then drink. I am not going to stop you,” You tell him, looking down to your wine list, deciding on a Cabernet Sauvignon for yourself. “We are not far from your place, so why not walk back? Or I’ll pay for the ride share if we decide we don’t want to walk after all. Especially since you are paying for dinner and coffee. Why not enjoy ourselves?”

Joshua looked surprised by your response, but you could see his shoulder slowly relax now that this wasn’t going to end in a fight. Instead, it was his turn to appear to be lost in thought. It was your turn to feel nervous. Was he going to argue with you over this? Was he going to jump to the conclusion you didn’t trust him?

Then that smile he had been wearing all night returned, and it was like you both were able to breathe again.

“You’re not spending a single dime on this date, just putting that out there. So whatever we decide, you aren’t paying.” He commented setting his menu down, now that he’s decided what he wanted, and you did the same. “I can come grab it in the morning during my jog, and pick us up some breakfast, while you sleep in…”

You watch him for a moment, wanting to laugh at how cute he looked right then catching his words. Truthfully, you don’t know what to expect for the end of the night and date, or even the next day, but you weren’t too worried about that right then. You wanted to enjoy what was happening right then, not what could happen later. Didn’t want to think about how you wanted to fall asleep next to him or that your body was already wanting more. Or even worry about the future.

In that moment, you decided that you were going to let the night decide what happens. Whether it ended up with you going home alone, or you waking up in his bed the next morning. You weren’t going to worry. You just wanted to be in the now with Joshua, like this.

Before you could tell him this in an attempt to reassurance, the waiter appeared in front of you to take your orders.

**Nine and a half months ago**

There was something wrong. The tension was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Hell, you were sure the knife would break with how thick it was. It wasn’t clear who was making the tension worse between the two of you, but it was making even the waitress nervous when she came up to the table.

Joshua was wearing an uncharacteristic frown on his face, one that would soon become a constant in the coming months.

This disagreement that you had was a miniscule one. Something that normally was insignificant to the both of you, one that you used to think was so silly to get worked up over. Something that was easily preventable with proper communication, which you had done. Giving him plenty of warning.

Who knew that running late would be the catalyst that caused the can of worms to finally burst after weeks.

It wasn’t even an important date, like an anniversary, it was just your weekly dinner date at your favorite restaurant. You had let him know well into advance that day you were running late from work, having to fill in for an artist for a group at the last minute. Just like you both always did, and making sure each other were in the know. It wasn’t like you had bailed on him at the last minute or provided him with no communication.

This time though, he had taken an issue with this, making a comment about finally gracing him with your presence when you did get there. You attempted to try and chalk it up to a bad joke on his part, but his tone had rubbed you the wrong way. It had led to a few tense words being exchanged, mostly with him being dismissive of you, before falling into an uncomfortable silence.

It was even worse with the waitress coming to take your order.

You barely said anything to each other as you sat back against the soft cushion of your seat, looking around at the other booths and tables filled with the other patrons. All talking and laughing among each other, while Joshua rested his cheek against his hand, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. Usually both your phones would be put away, like yours was now, to give each other your full attention to each other.

Holding each other’s hands over the table, and just talking about different things. About each other’s days, or random topics that were of no importance but fascinating at the time. What you always did on date night. Only this time, it was silent and all you wanted was him to say something or even look at you.

“How was your day?” You asked, trying to start that conversation again with him, but he didn’t respond. Just looked up at you with an unreadable expression. You weren’t used to this kind of treatment from your boyfriend, actually not used to seeing him like this. It made your head hurt as you rubbed your temple. “Baby, I am just trying to talk to you.”

“Is it because you actually care or just trying to make small talk? Not able to handle the silence?” Joshua shot back suddenly, his voice calm but his words with bite to them.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I always care about your day, or anything that goes on with you. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t care, Shua.”

“Forget it.” He scoffed, shaking his head, and you were more thrown off as he looked down to his phone. Something was bothering him, it was very clear, but you weren’t sure if it was because of you or if it was because of something else. If it was something else, then it wasn’t fair to take it out on you, but if it was you, then he could at least tell you. “My day was the usual.”

“Baby, is everything okay?” His lack of answer made it feel like you were suffocating, panic starting to bubble, and causing you to scramble to find out, but he was giving you nothing. You thought you two could talk about anything, especially if something was wrong and able to work it out together.

Except over the last few weeks, since coming home from the farewell tour of the group you were working for in fact, he was starting to pull away from you. Like he was resigning himself from this relationship and would just shut down at the slightest of disagreements.

You couldn’t figure out what was going on, and needed to know if you had done something or said something to make him feel this way. And here he was giving you nothing. Knowing it was going to eat you up.

“It’s fine.” He tells you with another sigh. Dismissive and just gut punching.

“No, it’s not fine.” You try and keep your voice calm, but there was a quiver to it, switching to Korean, and this made him look at you again. His eyes darkened, but you continued. “Talk to me. If I did something, then please tell me so I know and apologize for upsetting you. But if it doesn’t have anything to do with me, then tell me too so I can help you through it like we always have. It’s not fair toward me to be treated like this, or fair toward us if it’s going to cause problems. I hate when you are mad, even more so when I feel like it’s directed toward me, and all I want is to help make you feel better.”

“I told you, everything is fine.” He responded back in English, not entertaining your language switch, his attention going right back to his phone. “Don’t worry about it.”

“And I know when you are lying about things like this, making me unable to do anything but worry. What I don’t understand is why you are lying to me about what’s wrong?” You snapped back, feeling tears burning your eyes, trying to hold back all the anger and hurt you were feeling. “Are you hiding something from me?”

There.

There was your mistake. There was no right word to describe the look on his face when he looked back up. It was like you just accused him of something heinous or something, but you honestly weren’t doing such thing. You were asking a question to try and understand this change in your boyfriend, to know if it’s you or if it’s something else. You deserved to know.

Except those words were not relayed properly, and you realize how they actually sounded to him. You were accusing him when you weren’t intending to, and you were scrambling to try and reword them.

“You know what, let’s just forget dinner tonight.” He said calmly, cutting you off without any more thought, but he was pissed even if his voice didn’t betray him. It was the way his eyebrows furrowed, and the way the frown he was wearing didn’t fit his usually kind and happy face. It made him unrecognizable to you.

“Joshua…” The words were lost in your throat, he was already up and walking out of the restaurant without another word. Leaving you to scramble and rush after him.

That was your second mistake.

The moment you caught up to him, one of the worst fights of your relationship happened. It was the first time you had ever heard Joshua yell at you like that, his voice filled with so much anger, and it felt like daggers at you. It was jarring to see him this angry as he brought up past disagreements, bringing up things that at one time never bothered him, but now was a big deal.

You didn’t help matters as you lashed back out toward him. Throwing some of your own grievances toward him. Adding fuel to the fire.

The fight continued all the way back to his apartment, where the climax of it happens, and he storms out again. Leaving you to crumble onto his couch to cry alone at his place, and stupid you didn’t want to leave in case he came back. Which he did, well after you fell asleep waiting for him and wishing you just went home instead.

Maybe then you wouldn’t remember how comforting but souring the scent of him on his pillows were to your nostrils. Or the way he slipped into bed behind you, curling against your back and encasing you to him. The safe feeling of his arms shaken.

You didn’t end up making up until the next day, Joshua making sure to praise every part of you and spoil you to show you, but everything had changed after that night. But what bothered you most, was you still didn’t know what caused him to snap the way he did.

It was the first noticeable crack to the walls.

Dinner was amazing, the pasta and steak were cooked exactly to your liking and melted in your mouth with every bite. The conversation between you flowed so naturally, almost making you forget everything that had happened, and there wasn’t a moment of silence. The words between the two of you filled the air through the different topics.

It felt like a time when everything was once okay, hell it felt even better opening back up to him, and it sparked a good feeling inside you. You didn’t stop the flirtatious smile when you catch his eyes dropping down to your lips, watching the way they moved when you spoke, take sips of your wine, or even taking bites of your food. Finding yourself reaching out for Joshua’s hand often when you could, feeling it nearly engulf your smaller hand, and his thumb brush over the skin of your knuckles.

With every touch, laugh, and gentle teases, it only seemed to wash away the doubts that were plaguing you before the date started. Repairs already underway and adding space for new memories.

Maybe you were making things more complicated than it should be for yourself. Your anxiety and concerns tricking you into thinking that this was to be harder then it really was. Thinking it was going to be a challenge to even get past this date, but when really, everything about the night thus far only seemed to be providing you with what you needed.

This.

You and Joshua.

Only, you still had that rational side that would not let you be fooled by this unsecure comfort. Tonight went well, but that was only one step.

You shared dessert, instead of getting your own, and took turns feeding each other the creamy pastry that was ordered. Even snapping a few photos of each other taking bites of the dessert, giggling and laughing at some of the faces you both were making. You planned to post the photos later, not thinking or caring what this said to the world.

Once the final bite was eaten, Joshua paid the bill, and the two of you left the restaurant hand in hand.

“I am so stuffed.” Joshua proclaimed with a satisfied sigh, patting his stomach, both of you just strolling without much thought of where you were going. The marketplace had gotten busier during dinner, the sidewalks filled with couples on dates, or friends just hanging out. “Did you enjoy dinner?”

“Of course, I can see why it’s so popular. The food was amazing,” You tell him, before feeling a tug and you found yourself twisting to stand in front of him. Letting go of your hand, Joshua reached for your waist to pull you to him, taking a step back so you weren’t blocking the path of others.

With one hand moving to your hair, gently grasping the strands at the back of your head, Joshua pressed his forehead against yours. Your own hands now moving to hook around his neck.

“You’re amazing,” He said softly, causing you to pull back to get a better look at his face. His eyes shining, the corners crinkling from the widest smile you have ever seen playing on his face, but your eyes paying attention to his mouth. Maybe it was the few glasses of wine you and him had together loosening you up to his touch and loosen your own touch on him.

“No, I’m not,” You whisper, expecting him to argue with you, but instead he kisses you for the first time that night. Brief, tasting like the wine and the sweetness of the dessert you shared, but it make you chase his lips when he pulled back.

“It’s alright to be wrong, sometimes.” That is all he says, teasingly, with a playful energy playing off him. You feigned a fake gasp before he lets you go long enough to take your hand again, “Coffee? Then check out those buskers down a ways.”

“Sure.”

After the coffees were secured, you choosing a warm option while he chose an iced one, you found yourselves in the back of a small crowd to watch the buskers Joshua had mentioned. It was a duo covering popular songs, with one on the guitar and the other singing. There wasn’t a theme to songs being chosen, mostly taking requests from the crowd.

“A lot of those are what you, Jihoon, and Hansol wrote, huh?” You ask softly, leaning more into him so that only he could hear you. This earned a nod from Joshua, a proud smile accompanying it. His arm was now around your shoulder, keeping you close to him as the crowd picked up around you. “Maybe you can sing those again to me later?”

“Why?” He asked with a laugh, and you looked toward him with a raised brow. Joshua wasn’t looking at you, just looking forward with his eyes still trained on the duo performing.

You knew that his dream wasn’t to be a songwriter, he wanted to be the one singing and performing the songs instead. He wanted his voice to be heard by the world, he wanted to make it with his friends, but instead he was the one behind many of the songs that were popular today. It was a story that was held close to their hearts, one that you didn’t know the full details; only the thirteen of them.

“Why not?” You shoot back, and he finally casts a glance toward you before directed you to a free bench. Far enough away from the crowd, but close enough to still hear the buskers easily, “Maybe, I rather hear you sing them. They always sound better coming from you.”

“Okay, okay, enough of the flattery.” Joshua shook his head removing the arm that was around you, making it easier for him to turn toward you. Giving you his full attention and giving you a perfect view of the way his straw finds its way to his mouth. His soft lips wrapping around it, “You already have me, so you don’t need to butter me up.”

If only that statement was a hundred percent true. Nothing was official yet.

“If anything, I need to be the one flattering you more,” He continued, and you look down at your coffee. Feeling your skin growing warm at this comment, and it only seemed to worsen when he leans forward to say more into your ear. “Like I can’t get over how beautiful you look tonight.”

“Cliché.” You make a show of rolling your eyes, and this makes him laugh. “Try better.”

“Hmmm,” Joshua taps his chin, pretending to think. Then a mischievous smirk graced his lips. “How about, I want to hear you sing some of these songs to me.”

“I thought this was flattery, not lying. There is a reason I am a makeup artist to the idols, and not an idol myself, and you know it.” You make an even bigger show of rolling your eyes at this, but you loved the way Joshua’s laughter filter through the air. Looking at you like he used to wish soft loving eyes, not hard ones with little to no emotions behind them. Unless it was frustration.

Then it hit you why this was harder for you than you thought. You both just ignored that part of the conversation and were trying to jump in without fleshing out the real issue. What caused everything to go wrong the first time? What did you do wrong? What did he do wrong? What did you both do wrong? Did anyone do anything wrong or was it meant to turn south? Was it your fault, his fault, both or no ones?

The questions were now at the tip of your tongue, but at the same time, you didn’t want to spoil this moment. You and Joshua were together again, with everything about the night going great, and for the first time in months you felt like you were truly happy again.

Your name filtered into your earshot, and it was like you were suddenly snapped out of your thoughts. Finding yourself trying to not spiral into the nagging feeling that only minutes ago was barely even there. It was as if you couldn’t just enjoy the moment for what it was, reconnecting, and try to find balance with each other without fear of collapsing.

“You in there?” Joshua asked softly, concern etched all over him, with his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze. “You okay?”

“Ye…Yeah.” You answer quickly, letting out a nervous chuckle. You continued to answer, not realizing you had changed languages again. “Just was thinking is all.”

“About?” He presses softly, and there it was, there was your moment. To say something, to ask the questions that you should have asked the previous morning. Time to put it out there, maybe not the best place, here in the middle of a busy marketplace. The rock melody of the song that the buskers were singing in the background.

Speak now or forever hold—

“About how we should start back to you place.” You suggest, deciding this was not the place to ask this questions, and Joshua looked surprised by your suggestion. He watched the way your bottom lip found its way between your teeth, picking up the subtle hints to your words.

“Okay, lets go then,” He answers, pulling you up with him as he stood. Your hand firm in his, and he leans in to steal a kiss from you. One you return easily.

The television only played in the background, white noise to the both of you since neither of you were paying attention. Instead you were lost in the feel of Joshua’s lips moving against yours, slow and teasing, keeping the kisses shallow. Only giving you a taste of his tongue, giving the illusion that he was deepening your make out, but he would pull back at the last moment. Little shit.

His hair grasped between your fingers, and while his hands roamed over the grey tank you were in. Purposely avoiding your breasts to feel the rest of your torso and up your back. Your sweater had been discarded only a few minutes previous, and on the ground behind the couch now forgotten. The sole focus was each other.

Joshua then pressed against your ribs gently, indicating that he wanted you to lay back onto the couch. This movement made you break from each other, only for him to follow your lips as you lay back, bracing himself with one arm above you. Neither of you were exactly sure how it escalated to this, not that you were in a rush to, but one minute he had chosen to turn on something and the next you were attached at the mouth.

It only fueled your growing need for him, one that was coming back with a vengeance, and it was hard to keep yourself from being the one to the push further. Joshua, while eager to fuck you into the cushions of his sofa, held back until you gave him the signal. If it didn’t come, then he was alright with that too. He still knew how to kiss you and touch you in a way that was the next best thing to sex, even if it left him still frustrated. Making you want to satisfy him in whatever way you could.

But there was something still nagging you. That question that was playing in your head since the bench at the marketplace, one that plagued you during the walk back to his place and trying to stop you from enjoying the night with him.

What went wrong?

“Joshua…” You spoke finally when his mouth moved to quickly down your neck to the spot between your neck and collarbone that made you weak.

“Hmm.” Was his response back, his mouth still on your skin. Your body was putty to him and his touch, wanting him to keep going. It didn’t give away the war going on in your head, or the words about to fall from your lips was going to bring this all to a halt.

“What went wrong?” The moment the words left your lips, you wished you just kept your mouth shut. Feeling his whole body going rigid, stopping his movements, not needing you to elaborate on what you meant.

When he pulls back to look at you, you wished even more that you kept your mouth shut or at least waited. Or brought it up sooner. Panic washing over you like a waterfall at the unreadable look on his face, but his eyes were a mixture of emotions. Taken off guard by your sudden question.

“You’re asking that now?” He asked, sitting back and removing the comfort of his weight off you. Your hands reach out involuntarily, trying to grab his shirt or arms to stop him, not wanting him to be removed from you. Only for him to already be out of your reach.

“I… I meant to ask earlier… I meant to ask yesterday, but…” You start to stutter out, wanting to punch yourself for not getting the most serious question asked and answered. You both were clear that whatever it was made you both different people, but never got down to the root cause. “Fuck… I shouldn’t have said anything right now.”

You shouldn’t have said anything, you were so right with that, you should have waited. Or just accepted that he still wanted you and regrets letting whatever it was get in the way. You tried to tell yourself that the reasoning doesn’t matter, who was or wasn’t at fault didn’t matter. This was the first time in such a long time that you had Joshua back. You had hope that the last several months were just nothing but a bad dream, and that you came back to each other for a reason. Your hearts still connected and never moved on.

The details shouldn’t matter.

Where the hell did this woman come from? Only hours before you weren’t even sure where you both stood, ready to accept whatever came, and now you were terrified you ruined this. Grabbing for him like he was going to disappear or change his mind, and you lost all your reservations after one good date. All those months of trying to heal, to build walls back up, and where did that bring you with him?hihis

Still a desperate mess for this man. Nothing changed. There was no real resolve, you knew from the moment you hit the unblock that you were going to let him in, no matter how stupid it was. You were so ready to move back into that broken home with all the cracks and holes. Be content in the state it was in.

Joshua then looked away from you, his eyes switching now to guilt. He pulls completely away from you to sit forward, his head in his hands.

“I feel like you’re going to hate me,” He said softly, dropping his hands down before sitting back. Your heart dropped. “I never looked at someone else, or ever considered cheating on you, I would never do something like that. There was a stretch when you were on tour with that group, the disbanded one, that… I don’t know. I didn’t miss you, didn’t feel the rush to respond to your messages or calls. I knew I loved you, especially when we did video chat, or I got pictures from you. I felt it when I saw your pretty face and smile. Except then the call ended, and it was like a relief. A chore that I got over with, and I hated it. I hated that I loved you so much, but I didn’t miss you like I did these last few months.”

You could feel everything around you start to buzz as you stared at him. This time instead of your heart in your throat, it took a different route and plummeted into your stomach.

“When you got back, though, I was so happy to have you back. It felt so good to have you back, but the way I felt when you were gone was confusing. It didn’t make sense to me, and I got mad,” He continued to speak honestly, “I should have been mad at myself for feeling as irrational as I did. Unable to figure out if it was signs of the end, or if I was just confusing being busy with work with something else. Instead, I became mad at everything about us. I became mad at you, and at your job that took you away from me for weeks on end at times, and the complacent feeling I would get.

I started looking at the little things as issues, every little thing bothering me. It made me irritable and then we started fighting.” You watch as he pushes his fingers through his hair, pushing the mused strands back to a lazy semblance of how he had it styled for the night. The styling products still there enough to help keep hold. “It only made everything I was feeling worse because when we did fight, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much happier I could feel without you. That maybe I should just end it, but I kept holding on because the good times, fuck, they reminded me why I loved you as much as I do. That the fights were trivial and should have never been arguments in the first place. Things that could have been worked out by just talking like adults if we weren’t so angry with each other.

Then we would fight again, normally over something stupid, and all common sense went out the window. I just wanted to get away from you in those moments and began to look for reasons to not be around you. Everyone was so fed up with me too. Jeonghan and Coups were ready to murder me. Said fix it or just end it.” The sigh that left his lips wasn’t comforting, then again, nothing he was saying was making you feel better. “Then after our last fight, I just decided to let go. Thought it got so bad, that even if we did try to talk things out, we were too far gone to be worth saving.”

This was a mistake. You were a fool.

“If… if we weren’t worth saving then…” your words were slow, the doubt that had been slowly fading away was now rearing its head back. Ready to engulf you completely, and a voice screaming at you for bringing you right back to square one. And it was no one else’s fault but your own. “What makes you think we’re worth saving now?”

“Because of the same reason as I had told you yesterday. I realized my mistake and now that I know what it’s like to lose you…”

“But why did it take losing me?” You cut him off with this question, flinching back from his hand reached for your face. Stopping him from wiping away the tears that were starting to involuntarily fall, and you couldn’t take this pain in your chest again. You then stood and Joshua looked even more panicked. “Why did it have to take leaving me to make you realize that? Why couldn’t you realize that sooner?”

Joshua tried to grab your wrist, but you pulled it away. You were too focused on that he felt that you weren’t worth saving. You were too focused on the doubt that was filling you and how stupid you were for letting yourself do this again. If that was his feelings when he first broke up with you, what made him think history won’t repeat itself?

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. (Albert Einstein)

And the two of you were insane to think anything different.

Your name came from his lips as more of a plea, but you felt like you were in going into a spiral. Your mind’s reeling, feeling you being pulled further under water. Lungs burning with each breath.

“It shouldn’t have taken that for you to realize how much I meant to you.” You whispered, taking off toward his door, with every intention of leaving. This has been a mistake, and you regretted ever agreeing to anything. You regretted rushing over to his apartment the way you did, you regretted even considering to let him back in. For letting him back in. “I’m sorry, but I am not about to be made a fool again. I can’t do that to myself.”

“Wait,” Joshua called out, stopping you from making it to the door, grabbing the hand reaching out for the handle to twist you back toward him. You could see in his own eyes tears welling, and his own heart was breaking. Especially at the sight of the tears falling freely down your cheeks.

They were like the tears that he didn’t get to see after that fated phone call, it was like the pain of that day all over again, and he finally got to see it. With it written all over your face, that you let yourself revert back to that broken woman. You tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t let you go. Instead pulling you more to him by your waist.

He let you hit and push against his chest, hitting him in mixtures of fists and slapping of your palms, but Joshua still didn’t let you go. He wasn’t going to let you walk through that door, not in the state you were in, not when he finally had you back. Instead he let you fight against his chest, with each hit and push starting to grow weaker, but your sobs were only starting. Why did you even say anything?

You were just breaking each other’s hearts all over again.

“Why did it take that, Joshua? How can I believe you won’t do this again?” You sobbed out, the fight to get away from him dissipated, and you could only cling to his shirt. A patch being created by your tears growing darker. One hand still wrapped around you to keep you against him, while the other was now cradling your head. “How can we believe I won’t do it this time? How can we be sure this won’t implode and leave us even more broken? I don’t think I can take another heartbreak from this…”

“We don’t know…” Even though he was telling the truth, you didn’t want to hear that. You wanted to be lied to, or to just be let go. You hated how much you latched back to him now, how easily you let him in again. Like a moth to a flame. Why you broke off contact.

Joshua then pulls back, cupping your face so you had no choice but to look at him, to meet his eyes. Still shining from tears that wanted to fall, but soft and full of nothing by love and determination. With his thumb brushing away a tear, smearing the black streaks of mascara and eyeliner, he continued “But I do know that we need to try to find out, and we won’t go through this moment again. Even if it’s only for a few weeks, few months, or for the rest of our lives, I will fight every day of it to make you happier then you ever have been. We won’t let the issues that we once let get in the way do it again. We will work through them and find resolutions.

I love you and if I haven’t stopped by now, then I never will.” His mouth was on yours, kissing you with a purpose. Every truth behind his words poured into it, the love he truly feels for you was pouring out like a waterfall. A few of his own tears hitting your cheek as you returned the kiss.

You couldn’t stop yourself as you clung to him, the grip on his shirt was like a vice and you didn’t want to let go in case everything around you would disappear. That he would fade into darkness, and you were alone.

“Please, don’t walk out that door. I don’t care if I deserve it, please don’t leave.” His voice was strained when he pulled himself from your lips, every part of him told you he was trying to not break himself. Both of you so vulnerable.

“I don’t think I can if I tried…” You whisper, and it was your turn to brush away his tears. “I’m scared though…”

“I am too, so let’s be scared together.” His answer in his own whisper, the corners of his lips turning up into a weak smile. The thumb that had been brushing your tears away was now running over the stains on your cheeks. Smearing the streaks of make up in attempts to clean them away, and it only made you look sillier. Except he was looking at you like he was falling deeper in love with you. Your name fell from his lips, full of unspoken and spoken promises, ones that you could only hope that he doesn’t break. “Will you stay?”

You didn’t answer him with words, instead with a nod. You didn’t trust your words to not come out cracked and strange. You couldn’t trust your voice not to break into another wave tears, not wanting to deal with the already bubbling guilt for turning such a good moment sprouting into a fucked up one.

Maybe the events that happened, were meant to happen in the order it needed. To break yourselves open and allow the hurt to be seen. To clear out what you were so willingly to ignore and could have been what broke you again. Bring it out in the open, and let that part start to heal.

You weren’t going to leave, you knew the moment he stopped you from leaving that there was no way you could. Your heart was screaming for him, overtaking any logic and pain you were feeling in your chest. You couldn’t walk away when he was looking at you like that.

You two were worth saving. You two were worth the work.

It was you who moved in to kiss him, slow and timid, with Joshua letting you decide how far you wanted to go. His hand still holding your face, with your own moving from his chest to his waist. The hem of his shirt at your fingertips, his skin only a layer of fabric away.

It suddenly wasn’t enough for you, you needed him closer than this. You needed to feel his skin under your touch, against your own skin. Leading you to deepen the kiss between you while he was slow to respond, not wanting to see too eager at your forwardness.

Words were no longer being exchanged as you pulled away. Your eyes looking into his beautiful fawn like ones, taking in the way the way they haven’t stopped shining with love. You were looking at him the same way, you knew this, and feeling the foundation slowly becoming solid once more. The repairs were still plenty, nothing being fixed and repaired overnight, but it’s a start.

A promise of a better future.

Gripping at the hem of his shirt, you begin to bunch the fabric to push up his torso. Joshua picked up what you were trying to do, breaking away from you enough to pull the shirt off. Letting it slowly drop to the ground, it left him in nothing but his dark jeans and giving away the perfect view to his defined shoulders and chest. The food from that night adding a softness to his stomach, but when your hands moved over it, you could still feel the muscles he worked so hard for.

Two of the members of his large friend group were personal trainers, and Joshua would go to one of them, but you could never remember which one it was. Mingyu? Wonwoo? It was one of them, and you really needed to confirm who so you could thank him for his contribution to Joshua’s breathtaking frame.

“Bedroom?” You breathed out softly, before his mouth could reclaim yours. His hand back to your head, tilting it back to kiss you better. Allowing your tongues to languidly dance, while your own traced over his smooth skin. Your body growing hot and needy for him.

“Are you sure?” He asked, moving his mouth just far enough away to be sure of your request, his voice husky with his own mix of need for you. Along with every other emotion rocketing through him. It’s been months since he was taking you to bed for more than sleeping, making it feel like it was the first time all over. “I can understand if you want to wait. However long you need.”

“Fuck waiting.” There was so much confidence behind those words, not leaving any room for doubt on his part. With the words barely leaving your lips before you were swept into the bedroom by Joshua. A surprise squeal leaving your lips.

**Two and a half years ago**

The first time you had sex with Joshua, you never felt more full and complete with a partner. You never knew this man was capable of mixing loving words with vulgar ones with that sweet voice of his. The soft tones of it ringing them in your ears, his cock filling you with the purpose of bringing you to your peak over and over. Filling the room with confessions of love while also making sure you knew how much he intended on making you nothing but a mess on his couch.

He called you names that normally wouldn’t be okay in any other settings as he twisted you into whatever position to help make you see stars and colors bursting behind your lids. Telling you how perfect you were to him, perfect for him.

Joshua’s balance of being so tender and loving while also being so rough and dirty was dizzying but refreshing all the same. His touch was something out of a perfect erotica, seemingly written with your body in mind, leaving you spent in his arms.

Until he started to whisper how he wanted to wake up to you every morning, just so he could start the morning with his mouth between your legs. All while his own hand snaked between your legs to your swollen cunt. Earning several more rounds that night.

And then him doing exactly what he said he would the next morning. Start your morning with his mouth.

Neither of you wasted any time pulling off what was left of your clothes, throwing them haphazardly around the bedroom as you entered. Your tank thrown over his dresser, his jeans left at the door, your jeans on his desk, bra and underwear seeming to now be lost in the ether; or behind his nightstand. It was like a clash of bodies falling onto the bed, and you found yourself under him, naked, thighs caging his brief covered hips.

A once very familiar setting, with his mouth molded against yours like a missing a piece of a puzzle. His hands gentle yet heavy on your skin, burning touch into you like a brand. An invisible brand to show that you were his.

Cupping your breasts, Joshua teased at your harden peaks between his fingers, earning a soft moan at his touch. You always loved the size of his hands, easily able to take handfuls of part of you with ease that others could barely grasp, and he would move them with a purpose over your body. Feeling how familiar yet different under his touch and taking in the changes over your body over the months.

Little scars that came with having a cat, one particular one on your thigh from when he used you to stop from falling off the couch. The changes of your skin and weight, a new beauty mark that had appeared. New pieces of you to learn and find perfect.

Your own hands were through his dark hair, your hips jutting up to grind against his covered length. Earning groans from him that vibrated through your body, meeting your grind as your arousal soaked the front of his briefs. When your hands moved from his hair down to his hips, he stopped you from removing the article of clothing. Breaking away so the two of you could get some air.

“Not yet,” He told you breathlessly, giving away his fight to keep control from just rushing anything. “It’s been too long since I touched this body… you can’t rush this.”

He was never the type to rush things, even if it was meant to be a quickie, Joshua always make sure you were well taken care of first, whether it was with his hand or taking you to the edge over and over with his tongue, he couldn’t go without providing you with plenty of pleasure. Even before he would accept any reciprocation for it, something you took great care in returning the favor, or before he would fill you with his cock until you were sated in each other’s arms. Leaving you too exhausted to move.

“Shua…” You let out a small whine, knowing that he was going to have you on the brink of madness until he finally fucked you. His words sent a new wave of heat through your body, your cunt already soaked for him, the fresh set of evidence adding to the wet patch of his briefs. His mouth moves against the column of your neck, gently nipping and sucking at the flesh. Careful not to leave anything, but there wasn’t a promise you wouldn’t have anything anywhere else. “Please, don’t make me wait.”

“Oh, Darling,” Joshua cooed into your chest, not wasting time to reach your breasts to slip a nipple into his mouth. Teasing, with quick little flicks of his tongue before pulling back, making you arch to chase his tongue. Wanting to feel the warmth of his mouth then the cold air of the apartment against the wet peak. His mouth returned to your skin this time to give attention to the other breast, a hand moving between the two of you to your cunt. With his middle finger, he slid of over your slit. “You don’t have to wait too long, trust me, but I am still taking my time. I want to make sure you are begging for me.”

Slipping between your folds, Joshua couldn’t stop the moan that left him feeling just your slick, whatever words that he was trying say with it muffled by your skin. You didn’t even give a single fuck whatever was even said, likely something that would only send another rush of heat through your body. Your mind on the way his fingers moved like they never forgotten the way you worked or liked being touched.

Tracing your aching clit with his finger, Joshua pulled away from your breasts to rest your forehead against the soft skin. His own breathing starting to grow heavier, his cock straining against the wet fabric at how worked up you easily got for him. It was taking everything in him to not throw your legs over and devour you.

To keep tasting you until you were begging for more, begging for him and his cock. It never ceased to amazed him how turned on you would get for him, just how easily your body responded to him. As if he was the key to unlocking all your deepest of desires, needs, and feelings. While you unlocked his.

You whimper under him, your hips rocking to continue to meet his fingers, impatient to be touched more. You didn’t want to be a begging underneath Joshua Hong, you wanted to be well fucked by him.

You didn’t just want it, you needed it. Feeling like you needed it to be more than you needed to breathe. But at the same time, the slow torture he was doing to you was like a drug you couldn’t get enough of. His fingers dipping into you was enough to send you near spiraling, nothing else on your mind but his touch.

To anyone else, you probably would look ridiculous in the state you were in. Hair a mess over his pillow, your lips swollen, body moving desperately at his touch, and face already fucked out. Only when Joshua sat back enough to take you in, it was nothing but a beautiful sight. The way your body moved at his touch, how his finger would glisten, and he barely had been touching you.

“Can I taste you?” He asks desperately, pushing his bottom lip between his teeth before an uncharacteristic moan involuntarily left his lips hearing the wet sounds when his fingers started to pick up speed. “Please…”

“Fuck yes.” The answer came out more eager then you intended, but in all honesty, with the way he got your mind already near mush without even fucking you yet, you weren’t sure how you intended it. Whatever it originally had been was lost when he added another finger.

This was one of the rare times Joshua didn’t waste any time, removing himself from you. Including his fingers, much to your dismay, only for you to feel his hands at the back of your thighs. You let out a small gasp when he pushes them forward, opening you completely to him. His mouth was then on you, running the flat of his tongue over your slit, planting a soft kiss over your clit.

His mouth then moved with fever, dipping and tracing the inside of your folds, savoring your taste back on his tongue. He remembered the exact places that that got the best reactions from you, like he was getting from you just then. Your hands gripping at his hair, with sounds that you hadn’t made since the last time you were in bed with him spilling from you. Sounds that only he could pull from you, especially when his tongue circles your hole before dipping in.

Joshua couldn’t stop his own sounds, moaning and groaning at the taste and sounds coming from you, fucking into you with his tongue before his mouth returned its attention to your clit.

In replacement of his mouth, you felt his fingers returned, his middle and ring finger teasing you in time with his tongue. Not yet pushing them into your heat, like you wanted to, just letting you feel his fingertips right there.

“Shua, please.” You didn’t have anything else to say other than that, your eyes rolling, with your brain and mouth unable to decide what language to use. The fingers laced in his hair pulled in hopes to show him what you wanted. Which he gave you eagerly.

With two fingers pushed into you, his mouth continued its assault on your clit, switching strategically between sucking and lapping at it. Making sure he was in perfect time with the rhythm he created with his hand, stretching you while your inner walls clenched back. Trying to suck his fingers deeper into you.

“I missed how good you tasted, just like heaven,” He spoke, releasing you with a soft pop, watching the way his fingers pumped into you. Stretching you open before flicking his eyes up toward your face, smirking to himself at the look on your face was contorted to. Skin hot from flush, mouth slightly fallen open with small sounds leaving it. Your brows were slightly furrowed with your eyes only half open, but you weren’t looking at him. “Look at me, Darling.”

You did as he requested, catching sight at the shine covering all around his mouth and almost dripping from his chin, and the way his tongue disappeared between his fingers during one tantalizing stretch. He did this a few more times, before finding his way back up to your engorged clit.

It was like the ground crumpled from under you, your body starting to shake, and he held eye contact the entire time. Watching you fall apart from his place between your legs, his mouth and hand still working on you through your orgasm until oversensitivity started to set in. You try to close your legs on him, but he stopped you, able to keep your legs firmly in place with ease, and completely unfazed by the pull you had on his hair.

Words were lost in your throat with only cries and moans escaping, while Joshua let out a soft sigh, wanting to pull another orgasm out of you before his mouth parted from you. That sigh vibrated against you, and you nearly jerked back so hard that you nearly hit his headboard.

“Too much,” You pant out, making Joshua finally relent so he could move up the length of your body to kiss you. His hands pulling you back, so you were under him, cupping your face letting you taste yourself on his tongue. He wanted to rut against you, but was holding back since that once delicious feel of his briefs was now too rough.

Letting you have time to recover and decide if you wanted to keep going. For all Joshua knew, you may not want to go further than this.

“You have no idea how much I want to keep eating your sweet cunt,” He spoke, breaking from the kiss, and gave you a half smile. “You taste so good, and I don’t want to stop.”

“Maybe I want you to get reacquainted with something else other than your mouth though.” You suggest, the hands that were once tangled in his hair now moving over his shoulders, tracing them down the side of his back. Taking in the way muscles under his skin, enjoying the way they moved under your touch.

“And what is that something else?” He pressed, arching his brow when you didn’t elaborate, holding your gaze. But he knew damn well what you mean by that, not caring that you were now trying to push his briefs off him instead of using your words. This only made him chuckle as he shakes his head, removing himself from you and the bed.

Joshua briefs clinging low on his hips from your attempts to remove them, the base of his cock appearing above where the band was resting. Your mouth watered at the sight, your eyes moving up his body, taking it all in again before landing him up to his face. One of the sexiest sights you’ve ever seen.

Pupils blown out from arousal and desire, smirk playing over his lips as he watched you, before leaning over to open the small cabinet of his nightstand. Getting a condom out. You could hear your name being spoken, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Your attention was back down to his partially covered cock. Just looking at it made you clench around nothing, at the thought of tasting it again or feeling it finally inside you.

It wasn’t until he grasped your jaw gently that you were pulled back into reality. His face very close to yours.

“Did I lose you for a minute again, Darling?” Joshua’s words were soft, near a whisper, your eyes now being held by his. “Tell me what you want, and I will give it to you.”

“I want you…” You whispered back, feeling a puff of breath hit your face from his soft scoff. Of course you wanted him.

“And how do you want me?”

“Fuck me please…” These words came out louder clearer, and earned a triumphant grin from the dark haired man before letting you finally remove his underwear. Finally freeing his cock, and you couldn’t stop from looking right to it. Thick, hard, and ready for you.

“You know, it doesn’t matter how rough or dirty we get, we aren’t actually fucking…” He tells you with a sudden firm voice, his hand moving with quick skillfulness with the condom. Unwrapping it and slipping it on, as you processed the statement and honestly surprised by it. Then you saw the way the smirk turned into an amused and proud smile for whatever corny thing he was continuing to say. “Because…”

Climbing onto the bed, Joshua fitted himself back between your legs, his cock brushing against your weeping cunt. Using an arm to keep him held up, he was able to see the way your eyes fluttered at the contact and your hips push against him. Trying to move them to catch his cock with your entrance but whined when you couldn’t.

With another kiss, Joshua aligned himself with you before pushing in.

“Because… fuck you’re so tight… we only make love.” He moans out, feeling you stretch around his cock, his own eyes fluttering at how you fit snuggly around him.

If Joshua wasn’t in the process of filling and stretching you, you would have rolled your eyes at the cheesiness of his comment. The only thing that you could think about was him sheathing himself completely into you, his hips now flushed against yours. Nails digging into his back, you clung to him, just the feeling of him nearly took you over. Your body still sensitive from your last orgasm and his mouth, and just adjusting to him sent you reeling.

Maybe you should’ve allowed yourself more time to get over this sensitivity or have him work you some more so you can adjust easier. Joshua was much bigger than anyone you had been with before and after him, especially in girth, so your body had to get used to him again.

You should have told him to not move, to give you a moment.

But you did not do that.

“Move..” You beg, capturing his mouth in a kiss with your own, feeling him pull his hips back in a slow pace. Just enough to pull halfway out right before his hips snapped forward, meeting your eager hips with a resounding clap.

You were happy when Joshua took over the kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers with each swipe of his tongue. This build was quick, taking his time was out of the window, his thrusts were meticulous, but strong. With each one taking your breath away, even more so when he angled his hips just right to brush against the sensitive nerves.

Leaving you to nearly floating to the stars.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His words were soft compared to how he was fucking you into the mattress, his breath coming out even more labored while his eyes stayed trained on you. You were already close again, the knot tightening with what felt like lightning speed, already threatening to snap. Teetering you on the edge, that was starting to give way under you. Nothing but Joshua was holding you there, to keep you from falling when the ground gave way until that perfectly timed thrust. “You have no idea how much I missed you… missed seeing you so pretty under me like this.”

You managed out something that maybe sounded like you missed him too, taking in how gorgeous he looked with his face twisted with concentration and pleasure, but each word was lost between small gasps and sounds only that he could pull from you. Your hands moved up his back to his hair, leaving several scratches in its wake, to bring him back into another kiss.

A desperate one. One that he returned with vigor.

You could feel yourself breaking in half, your body starting to shake and your legs locking around him. With Joshua wrapping his own arms around you, his own release racing to catch up. Each thrust growing more frantic, sloppy, while your walls began to spasm around him.

“I love you,” He gasped your name out, breaking from the kiss to press his forehead against yours, mixing the sweat that was beading on both your brows. You weren’t sure if he was still looking at you or not, your own eyes tightly shut, feeling an intense wave of pleasure wash over you.

With that perfectly timed thrust.

The threat snapped, and it felt like every muscle in you was on fire as they tensed and tightened. Your inner walls clenching around his cock tightly, enough to pull him with you. Filling the condom with stripes of cum, his hips still moving with difficulty, trying to ride through your orgasms together, but you nearly had him locked in place.

Soon his struggling and sloppy thrusts slowed to a stop, both of you still clinging to each other. Unable to part as you stole slow, languid kisses between each pant through the come down of your high. As your mind cleared, you knew that he was going to have to separate from you, oversensitivity feeling like it was sending you both into overdrive, but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to lose the heat that his body was providing you.

When he finally did part from you, he didn’t stay away from you long, just enough to dispose of his condom and get you both cleaned up, before he had you back in his arms. Keeping your body pressed against him, peppering soft kisses over your face before reaching your lips. Then repeating the process with overexaggerated movements, your laugher ringing through the room.

The laughter slowly died when he caught your gaze, giving you such a look of love. One that was new and wasn’t a look he had given you before.

You weren’t going to give up, you loved him too much to do that and would do anything to not let him again. It was a long road ahead, but you knew that if he kept looking at you like that, it will all work out.

“I’m so sorry,” You tell him softly, though there wasn’t an ounce of guilt on your part, your fingers tracing the red raised lines that you left on his back. Taking in the damage that was done with a hint of smugness.

Joshua had been laying on his stomach, still naked like you were, with a sheet resting at his waist and his face buried into his pillow. Eyes closed, but not sleeping, his body relaxed under your touch. Enjoying the way your traced over the designs your nails made and created invisible ones with the tips of your fingers.

His mind was a mixture of content and buzzing with the events replaying over and over in his head. From the last few days ago, to the activities you both were up to over the last few hours.

Neither of you felt sated after the first round, barely getting cleaned up and cuddled in bed before you were at it again. Joshua having you in so many different positions. Pinned to the bed like the first time, you riding his cock as he took in the way your breasts bounced with enthusiasm. Making it impossible to resist grasping them with his hands and teasing the pebbles with his mouth. The fatty flesh muffling all his words of encouragement to pull more orgasms from you.

You on your knees as he fucked your throat, watching as tears welled in your eyes when looking up to him, it made him cum down your throat almost immediately. Once recovered, he had you face down into the mattress and hips propped up by pillows. Knowing your body was starting to wear out, even if your desire for him had not. It also gave him an angle to hit your bundle of nerves just right, and you ended up leaving small tears in his sheets from your nails.

All the different sounds came from you, the slick sounds of his cock pumping into your wet cunt to the different moans and whimpers, hearing his name in such a desperate way. It sounded more beautiful than music itself to him.

All because they came from you.

There was no way he was ever going to get enough of you, but both bodies were completely worn out when the sun started to peak over the horizon. But neither of you were able to sleep, instead just lying there, with you tracing his skin with your fingers. He wasn’t sure but he thought he felt you spell out both of your names. English and Hangul.

“You don’t sound it,” He answers back, one arm under his pillow and the other thrown lazily over your waist. He wasn’t looking at you, his eyes still closed and buried into the soft pillow, but he could see the amused smile you were now sporting clearly in his brain.

“You’re right, I’m not.”

“So, is this a yes?” Joshua asked suddenly, turning his head toward you. His eyes now open to catch the confused look on your face. “You said you were looking forward to having some lazy days ahead. I asked you if you wanted to spend those lazy days together, remember?”

“Yeah…”

“You wanted to see how our date went, and I would think it was pretty successful if this moment has anything to say about it. So I am hoping it’s now a yes. I am sure that Jihoon wouldn’t give a shit if I took a few days off.” This remark made you burst into laughter, this time leaving him confused. Especially when you leaned forward to plant a quick kiss on him, earning an equally confused chuckle, “What?”

“Well, seeing as he is the reason we are back together, I don’t think he would give a shit either.” You continued to laugh as Joshua looked at you like you were talking out of two heads. How did Jihoon have a hand in you being back with him? What did that man do? His look on his face only made you laugh even more. “He’s going to deny it if you talk to him about it, he said he will, but he called me the other night. After you left them at the bar.

He told me that he heard Minjun…as well as some of the things he and his friends were saying about me. Which before you start, fuck them all and I don’t give a shit what they have to say. It was a favor to me.” You were quick to hold your hand up to stop him, knowing by the way his brows furrowed that he was getting upset. He didn’t know what was said, but it still made his blood boil because of whatever it was, it was enough to have you dump him so easily. You continued though, “He also told me how you weren’t yourself after the breakup, and how even though you wouldn’t admit it, you needed me.”

This made any anger that he was feeling start to fade, catching the way you were looking at him. Your eyes shining at him, hair a mess around, and your skin basically glowing in morning sunlight.

“And you believed him?”

“The man doesn’t meddle in drama, or other people’s business. If he puts his two cents in, it’s hard to not believe him.” You shrugged, giving him one of the widest and prettiest smiles he’s ever seen. Ever received. “But, to answer your question. It is a yes. I would love to spend my lazy days with you.”

Joshua launched himself forward, unable to contain his happiness as his mouth claimed yours with another kiss. His heart feeling like it’s going to explode, adjusting his body so it was now pressed against yours.

“I love you,” You whispered, causing every part of him to freeze with eyes wide and mouth dropped open. He hadn’t expected you to say that, but from the bashful look on your face neither did you. “I wasn’t going to say it, I was intending to wait a little longer. I know you don’t expect me to say it, but I hated that I didn’t say it back both times you told me the last few days. There is no way I cannot say it.

I love you, Joshua Hong. There is no getting away from it, and I don’t want to run from it anymore. I don’t want a life that doesn’t include you.” You tried to hold back the happy tears in your voice. “It doesn’t matter how hard this gets, I am yours through it all. I am going to be here until you’re finally tired of me.”

Joshua could barely hear the last set of words, your voice got so soft it was near inaudible, but he did. Feeling his own eyes starting to sting, he couldn’t stop the smile, nor was he able to stop himself from kissing you again.

One of his favorite things to do.

“Good thing you don’t have to worry about me ever getting tired of you. Because you’re not leaving my side again.” Joshua made sure there was enough space between you, so his words were heard, before diving back in for more kisses.

He wasn’t going to be able to truly make up all those lost moments with you, those lost touches, those lost kisses, but he sure as hell was going to try.

Thank you all for reading! Joshua and Reader will be back! How can I not revisit how these two are doing right? You'll also see them or hear them mentioned in other fics.

Please keep an eye out for the teaser for Part 1 of Jeonghan's. Title coming soon. 💜💜💜

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