#you don’t understand how many of these i have

[wonustars]

In Front of Me (1)

cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me ₊˚

⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriends to (?), angst, smut (R: 18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: 40.6k (part 1) (part 2: here)

⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.

⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, unrequited love (for the most part), pining, toxic!wonwoo, toxic!reader, both in wonwoo and readers pov, questionable protagonists, mentions of other svt members, happy ending (?), emotionally constipated characters (wonwoo), flashbacks, slight seokmin x reader, a lot of emotions thrown everywhere. (content warnings under the cut)

⊹ note: this story was meant to be posted for wonwoos bday, but if you know anything about me by now, i never really stick to my self made deadlines lol. thank you to my cutieful, big brained beta readers: ♡ @junkissed @chocosvt and @sunniques ♡ everyone in @svthub and @highvern and @gyuswhore who helped me w this fic as well ! if u look closely this is pretty much just a sugar coated version of real life events lol... anyways i hope u enjoy and lmk what u think thru the replies and reblogs :) !

⊹ masterlist, fic playlist.

⊹ smut tags: no smut in this part :p ⊹ warnings: alcohol, reader is downbad for wonwoo, stalking, slut-shaming, evasions of privacy, if i missed anything lmk! cuz ik i did i just can't think of what hehe :p

⊹ what i would like to note about this story before you read it: you're not meant to like these characters (for most of the story at least lol), they are flawed in many ways, thats the whole point of this story tbh. tmi--but this story is pretty much my free therapy lol. and i love a messy plot! wonwoo and reader are just two normal people in this story and i wanted to write something a little more raw than i'm used to. so just take what i say with a grain of salt before reading ♡ i still want you to enjoy this story because i poured my soul into it. so thank you for your support and kind asks and comments about the teaser!

prologue. 

Despite your age, you’ve never been in a serious relationship. There was always something holding you back, or rather, someone. 

In all the years you’ve known Wonwoo, you’ve always thought maybe one day, he would look at you in a different light. Hoping that he could reciprocate the feelings you’ve harboured for him since the eleventh grade. 

He was the one who constantly moved out of relationships. You couldn’t even count the amount of late-night calls where he asked you what his “next step” should be. The doting best friend that you are, you’d gladly stay up all night trying to help him fix his girl problems. 

“I just, I don’t have feelings for her anymore. Is that wrong?” he asked you over the phone. 

Tossing and turning in your bed you let out a deep sigh. One thing is always guaranteed with Wonwoo: in a relationship, he loses feelings quickly. No matter how much he likes the girl, no matter how obsessed or possessive he feels for them at the beginning of it all, it diminishes by the time the six-month mark hits. 

Although he may be a great friend to you, relationships were never his strong suit. 

“It’s not wrong to fall out of love, but how many times are you going to break up with someone before you decide to stay?” you ask him, and he pauses to think. 

“I don’t know, but I can’t stay, that would make things worse,” he sighs. “It’s better to just stop this whole thing now.” 

“I agree, but are you sure?” you continue to ask him the same questions you’ve been asking since you were sixteen. 

“I’m sure,” he replies with a heavy sigh. 

“Okay, then goodnight. It’s almost one in the morning,” you try to cut the call, but he continues to speak. 

“I’m not the bad guy, right?” he asks you for reassurance. 

“No, you’re just human Wonwoo. There’s nothing wrong with losing feelings for someone,” you affirmed. 

“Alright, thank you, good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers listlessly. 

“Good night, Wonwoo.” 

Your phone beeps indicating that he’s hung up and you can feel the heartstrings pull inside your chest. How many times will it take for Wonwoo to find someone he actually wants to be with? And why is it never you? 

act one, favorite crime.

chapter one. 

“Wait, what? You and Wonwoo aren’t dating?” Seungcheol asks you, forcing you into the hot seat. 

The rest of your friend group is boring holes into your face as they all sit around Jeonghan’s living room. The blood rises in your cheeks, but you shake your head anyway. 

It feels like every time you’re with your friends, they ask you the same set of questions. Constantly wondering why you and Wonwoo haven’t thought about dating, or why you two haven’t decided to take the chance and just be together. 

“You guys need to stop asking that. A guy can befriend someone of the opposite gender,” Wonwoo defends the two of you. 

“You’re telling me in all the years you’ve known her, you haven’t developed feelings for her once?” Cheol continues to instigate, and your eyes go wide. 

Looking over at Wonwoo, you anxiously wait for his answer, your chest blooming with hope, only for those buds to be washed away in a millisecond. 

“No, c’mon, we’re just friends. That’s it, right?” Wonwoo turns to you, trying to get you to back him up. 

Your mouth runs dry as he stares at you, his eyebrows rising in anticipation. 

“U-uh yeah, Wonwoo’s right, we’re just friends,” you blurt out, not being able to handle all the expectant eyes on you all at once. 

“See? Now can you all just get off our backs?” he chastises. 

The chatter starts up again, moving past the topic of you and Wonwoo’s friendship. But you sit there, with your heart crushed in your hands, lifeless and shrivelled. Like his words and actions had the power to tear the life out of you. The worst part was that he did all this without knowing. He’s completely oblivious to your feelings, and you only have yourself to blame.

You understand your relationship with Wonwoo is different from most people’s, but at the same time, it should be normal for a girl and a guy to just be friends. And at least you respect Wonwoo’s feelings, and you also respect that whenever he’s dating someone the dynamic between you two shifts. 

He becomes more detached when he’s in a relationship, and you’re okay with that. His priorities change and you’re okay with that. Despite your feelings for him, you know that you can’t force him to feel the same way. And you should be okay with that. 

You’ve never tried to get in the way of his love life, or purposefully give him bad advice to ruin what he has with someone else. Not since you were seventeen, and at that time in your life your frontal lobe was a measly speck of dust, but it's different now. Now, your morals don’t change just because you love him, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less to see the person you’re in love with, fall in love with someone else. 

two. 

“Hey, you okay?” Seokmin approaches you, and you turn your head, acknowledging his presence. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m alright,” you mutter, but you know you don’t look that way. 

Seokmin has known you since high school and has seen you through everything, probably more than Wonwoo. He knows when you’re not feeling well. A sympathetic permanent on his lips as he continues to observe you play with the food on your plate, pushing around the food aimlessly but never taking a bite. 

The sounds of people conversing throughout the dining hall never die down. But luckily, the commotion keeps your thoughts of Wonwoo at bay, or at least that’s what you like to think. But your heart can’t seem to let go of that moment from the other day. Having Seungcheol confirm that Wonwoo has never felt anything romantically for you was like a stab in the stomach, and him getting you to back up his words was just him twisting the knife. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? You can tell me,” he sighs, pushing the hair covering your face and placing it behind your ear. 

You can feel the tears start to pool, but you try your damndest not to let them spill—not like this, not in front of so many people. 

“It was just something Wonwoo said when we were all at Hannie’s house,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact with your friend. 

“What did he say?” 

“That he’s never liked me before,” you sigh, feeling a tear slip from your eye. 

Cursing yourself in your head, you hate how much your feelings for him affect you. You hate how he doesn’t have to even be in front of you, yet he can still cause your emotions to fluctuate. 

“It’s alright,” he coos, pulling you into his strong arms. 

It felt weird, to hug Seokmin so tightly in the middle of your university’s dining hall. But you’re thankful for how aware he is, how he actually cares about your feelings. You felt melodramatic sitting there crying in the fucking dining hall of all places, but you couldn’t help but let your tears flow as Seokmin comforts you with his soft voice. 

“You deserve more than this, I hope you know that,” he whispers in your ear.

three. 

Over the next few days, the words Seokmin had whispered to you kept replaying in your head. You did deserve better and looking at all of Wonwoo’s past relationships is the perfect example. He’s not exactly the ideal boyfriend, so why did you even have feelings for him in the first place?

You could feel a migraine coming on from how hard you were thinking, but Wonwoo still seems to be the only person you can’t let go of. No matter how many times you’ve tried. 

A knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts. It was late, and you don’t remember anyone messaging you saying that they were going to come over, but you open the door anyway. 

“Hey, sorry I didn’t text,” Wonwoo moves past you, takes his shoes off, and plops on your couch. 

“It’s okay, what’s up?” you move to sit beside him. 

“I broke up with her,” He says, shrugging. 

Taken aback by his nonchalance, your eyes widen. He seems calm for someone who has just broken up with his girlfriend. But you try not to think too hard about it, or you might just have to take another Advil to remedy your already growing headache. 

“Well, how did it go?” you ask with a bit of apprehension. 

Knowing Wonwoo, you knew that he probably just dumped her over the phone or something. He’s never been bothered to really break up with someone. 

You have all these examples of why he would probably be the worst boyfriend ever, yet your heart still belongs to him. It’s pitiful, to say the least, people probably would think that you’re a masochist because you subject yourself to staying by his side when he has feelings for another. 

“She was crying, but at least it’s over now,” Wonwoo informs you as he eats the snacks you had left on your coffee table. 

“Oh.” You could feel the guilt start to seep into your veins. 

It never felt good to hear Wonwoo talk about his breakups, but you’re not sure how to react. There’s a part of you that’s happy to know that he’s single again, but the majority of you pities the girl who had just gotten her heart broken. 

Wonwoo continues to munch on the snacks left on your table while your mind tries to process the information you’ve been given. Hearing him talk so casually about his breakup leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but you decide to switch topics instead of asking any more questions. 

“Are you still going to Seokmin’s thing this weekend, though?” you ask him, trying to fill the air with something to drown out your rapid heartbeats. 

He shrugs his shoulders, “If I feel like it. Are you?” 

The bottom of your stomach tightens. You were hoping that he would go, even looking forward to it. Is that pathetic? To want to see him everywhere you go? Maybe you were pathetic to the point where you only felt like hanging out with your friends if he was there. 

“I mean, I don’t have a ride so…” you trail off, pretending to pay attention to whatever was playing on the T.V. screen. 

“I’ll go since you’re going, that way you have a ride,” he mumbles, adjusting his posture to lean back on your couch. 

He sighs as he sinks into the plush cushions, spreading his legs while he puts his arms up. You’re very aware of his proximity, and you try not to let it show. But the smell of his cologne invades your senses, knocking the breath out of your chest. 

Wonwoo’s arm circles your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and forcing your head to rest delicately on his broad shoulder. Exhaling, you let yourself enjoy his way of showing affection. Although to him it means nothing, and to you, quite literally everything. 

“Thank you for agreeing to go to Seokmin’s so I have a ride,” you whisper but still avoid eye contact so he doesn’t notice your flustered expression. 

“Thank you for letting me barge in here just so I can talk about my breakup,” he whispers back, kissing the top of your head. 

“Of course, what are best friends for?” 

four. 

Most people fall in love gradually, slowly growing feelings for the person before they can even call it love. Like the way the seasons steadily turned from winter to spring. Green grass peeking from underneath the melting snow, or flowers gently blooming and unravelling their new set of stems and petals. For you, it was different.

 Falling in love with Wonwoo wasn’t gradual at all. 

If anything, falling in love with Wonwoo felt like a snowstorm in the middle of a sunny day. Your affection for him grew rapidly, and before you knew it, your mind was clouded with him and him only. It became hard to stay rational as if you were driving down a snow-filled road without any control over the steering wheel. Swerving into different lanes, your brakes malfunction, making it hard to bring your car to a full stop. Falling in love with Wonwoo was not gradual or easy.

When you met him on the first day of your junior year of high school, your sixteen-year-old brain couldn’t fully comprehend your crush on him. He was the shy, scrawny new kid in your class, and no one paid mind to him except you. But that didn’t stop you from liking him. Despite his interest in collecting pokémon cards and his crooked glasses that were too big for his face, you were in love. 

You were like two peas in a pod that whole year, and the only time you and Wonwoo spent time apart was when he had to leave during summer break to visit family in Korea. 

When he returned for your senior year, you could barely recognize him. Suddenly the nerdy Wonwoo you knew was gone. His glasses complimented his face, his hair was styled differently, and most of all, he got hot. A lot of your classmates must’ve seemed to agree because now your best friend and the man you’re in love with gained attention from people who didn’t even bat an eyelash at him last year. 

It annoyed you to see all these people suddenly interested in him. You were angry that just because he grew a few inches and learned to do his hair didn’t mean he was that much different from how he was last year. 

Even though Wonwoo was in a relationship, he still stayed true to your friendship. He still hung out with you, ate lunch with you, you even came over on weekends to have dinner with his family. Day by day, your love for him strengthened, and you ignored that his attention had been divided between you and his girlfriend at the time. 

When their relationship hit three months, it seemed your friendship had come to an abrupt halt. He didn’t invite you for dinner as often, you two didn’t talk on the phone every other night. He started to invest more of his time into her until he decided she wasn’t worth his energy anymore. Then the calls would come, his contact name flashing across your phone screen to ask you for advice. 

“I feel like I need to break up with Haein,” his deep voice flowed through your phone speaker. A sigh left his lips as he faced the truth. 

Haein was Wonwoo’s first girlfriend. She was nice, almost too nice. Wonwoo definitely had a type for girls with a bubbly personality. Ones that were effortlessly beautiful, reminiscent of a freshly made porcelain doll. That was Haein to you, unblemished in every way possible. Everything that you weren’t.

You couldn’t bring yourself to hate her. She was too nice to hate, but your younger self was so angry at how much of Wonwoo's time she took up that you envied her. Seokmin once jokingly mentioned that you looked especially green when she was around, and you remember how quickly you checked your appearance on the nearest reflective surface because of what he had said in passing. You remember vividly how nervous his words made you, was it that obvious?

Wonwoo’s first time calling you about his breakup plans was a delightful surprise, and you were too in shock to sputter out a proper response.

“Oh. Why?” was all you could say, still stunned that after a week of no contact, this was the first thing he said. 

“‘Dunno, I just don’t like her anymore,” he admitted effortlessly. 

You didn’t know how to respond. Your heart was screaming at you to encourage him to break up with his girlfriend at the time, while your brain was telling you to think logically. 

“Well, if that’s what you think is right,” you mumbled, trying to hide the fact that you felt a sense of relief at Wonwoo potentially being single again. 

Others may have tried to rationalize with Wonwoo, but you didn’t care. You wanted your friendship with him to turn back to normal. Your adolescent brain ignored that it was wrong to encourage him, as long as he was fully yours again.

History repeated itself over and over, and the older you got, you learnt to not be so selfish with his attention. Mostly out of guilt for the person he was going to break up with, but also because you didn’t want Wonwoo to realize your true feelings. 

Although being in love with Wonwoo was brutal, you constantly wished that things were different between you two, but they weren’t. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, and as your friendship with him progressed, you had begun to learn to mask your romantic feelings for platonic ones. 

five. 

By the time you entered university, you had mastered the art of pretending. As if your feelings for Wonwoo didn’t exist. You are quite meticulous in ensuring that he never realizes that you are profoundly in love with him. The mere thought of him finding out how you truly felt frightened you. 

You’ve already envisioned countless scenarios on how it could go. The idea of being rejected by the one you love most. It would change everything about your friendship with him.  The look of pity in his eyes, the apologies that would spill out of his mouth. You can't bear even the thought of rejection. Not from him. 

Two voices are constantly at war inside your mind. Your brain, acting as the voice of reason, constantly reminds you that it’s better to preserve your friendship. To keep the dynamic you’ve always had with Wonwoo guarded where it could last, thrive. While your heart persuaded you with deluded, fake scenarios. 

‘What if he likes you back?’ 

‘You never know until you try.’ 

‘Take the risk or lose the chance.’ 

What if. 

Like a siren to a sailor, your heart sang with deep imagery. Filling your thoughts with illusions of you and Wonwoo finally together. But your mind doesn’t let you go without a fight. It knows that beyond the deep waters where your siren-voiced heart lies is nothing but a bottomless pit. 

The possibilities are endless, and you’d rather stay safely grounded in your boat of rationality. 

A notification brings you out of your thoughts. Although you already knew that it was Wonwoo, you scramble to pick up your phone. There’s excitement laced in your veins as you look down at the screen. 

7:06 p.m. [wons <3]: be there in 5. 

There was no reason for you to be so ecstatic but you couldn’t help it. He had already texted you prior, notifying you that he was leaving his place to come pick you up, and yet every time your phone buzzes, you still hope that it’s something completely different. But that was your heart talking; you knew that it wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. 

Everyone had planned to meet at Seokmin’s place today, just to have one last celebration before midterms began again. You had happily agreed, enthusiastic that you could spend more time with Wonwoo, although it wouldn’t be a one-on-one thing. You were more than elated to see him while also being able to hang out with the rest of your friends. 

Throwing your phone back on the bed, you change into an outfit that is both cute and comfortable. There wasn’t a reason to dress up when the vibe at Seokmin’s was just going to be sitting around his living room, drinking cocktails and eating pizza. 

Wonwoo texts you once more to let you know he’s outside, causing you to race down to meet him. A lump in your throat arises, as he comes into your field of vision, appreciating how breathtakingly handsome he is. 

The chilled breeze brushes through the strands of his hair, glasses perched on his tall nose. He looked amazing, just like he always had, but you never get bored of admiring him. Even if it’s just from afar. 

“Hi! Sorry if I kept you waiting,” your voice resounds into the night. 

“It's never a problem if it’s you,” he chuckles as you dawdle over to the passenger side of his car. 

Trying not to read too deep into his words, you snort at his cheesy line instead of giving a response. Watching Wonwoo move to the side as he opens the car door for you. His actions make you blush, and you know you’ll think about it for the rest of the night. 

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, smiling at you. 

The ride to Seokmin’s house is fairly quiet, the sounds of music filling the silence instead. Your thoughts are overflowing with scenarios once again, wondering how different the car ride would be if you and Wonwoo were in a relationship. His fingers would probably be laced with yours, or rubbing soothingly against your thigh while his other hand gripped the steering wheel. Planting kisses on your cheeks at every red light. It seemed like heaven on the other side. But you knew reality would crush your delusions soon enough. 

…

  The clock on Seokmin’s pale white wall is nearing midnight and you don’t want to be here anymore. Not when the only thing you could focus on was Wonwoo flirting with a girl whose name you didn’t catch. She’s Joshua’s childhood friend and he only brought her along because she’s visiting from out of town. Whoever she was, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to you was the fact that she was able to bring out Wonwoo’s deep laugh. The kind of laugh that only befalls upon your ears when he finds something genuinely funny.

The ugly swirl of jealousy sits in the pit of your stomach and you couldn't help but scoff at your wretched situation. It made you sick watching them, and you could throw up any minute now. At this point, you weren’t sure who to envy, Wonwoo or the girl he was flirting with. You find it unfair that he doesn’t realize how greatly he can impact your feelings. 

Just a few hours ago, you were in utter bliss. Sitting in the front seat of his car, listening to the music softly playing on the ride to Seokmin’s apartment. Making stupid jokes and pointing out the random sights that you had seen while driving down the bustling city streets. You envy how easy it is for Wonwoo to make all those feelings of delight vanish. And he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know what he’s doing to you, and that’s what hurts the most. 

“You doing okay?” Seokmin comes up to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. 

“Huh? Oh. Yeah I’m okay,” you chuckle, but there’s nothing humorous about your laugh at all. 

His eyes soften, he knows that you’re not okay. Seokmin always knew. After all these years, he can tell when you’re trying to save face. There’s a lump in your throat, and if you didn’t have a drink to sip on to distract you, you probably would’ve gone to the bathroom to cry. 

“You wanna talk in my room?” he offers, and you’re grateful. 

Seokmin knew he had to get you somewhere other than the living room. You were practically torturing yourself, sitting on the couch and watching Wonwoo talk to everyone but you. 

Instead of agreeing vocally, you nod your head before standing up to follow Seokmin to his room. The door shuts softly, muffling the sounds of laughter and allowing your uneasiness to finally subside. 

As you sit on Seokmin’s bed, you feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks. It feels pathetic, crying over something so trivial. Why does it have to be you who feels this way? Why can’t you just be a normal friend and see Wonwoo in a platonic light? The whole world could turn upside and he’d be the first person you search for. 

Everything just seemed so unfair, how could you possibly be happy if your feelings for Wonwoo were constantly in the way of it all? It’s tiring, worrying about him, yearning for him. You could do so many other things with your time, and when you look toward the future, you know that you’ll regret how much of your life you wasted loving someone who doesn’t love you back. 

“It’s okay, just let it out,” Seokmin whispers in your ear, embracing you in a tight hug. 

Crying felt good. You rarely cry over your situation despite how upsetting it is. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to finally indulge in your sadness and let go of everything you were too afraid to say or feel.  

“I know it sucks right now, but honestly, it might be time to get over him,” Seokmin continues to comfort you while trying to help you face the reality of your situation. “You’re so hurt, and it’s taking a toll on you. Please, I can’t bear to see you so sad.” 

His words hit you hard because you know it's true. But all you can do is apologize. Saying sorry for feeling this way, even though it’s not your fault, you cannot control your feelings, you still apologize. To Seokmin, to your friends, but also yourself. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccup, tears staining Seokmin’s white shirt. 

“Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong,” he mutters, his large hand patting your head, trying to soothe your fit of emotions. 

“Because, if I was normal, you wouldn’t have to worry about me, about why I’m always upset, you and the others, my feelings are burdening all of you,” you continue to weep softly in his arms, gripping onto his shoulders as his hands encircle your waist. 

“Hey, look at me–” he grabs your face, gentle as a mouse, rubbing away the tears from your cheeks. “You are not a burden. We care, that’s why we worry, and I just want to be there for you.” 

“Thank you, Seokmin. I’m so happy that I have someone like you in my life,” you pull him into a hug again, knocking the air out of his chest, but he’s still somehow able to hug you even tighter. 

Seokmin is like your favourite childhood blanket, keeping you warm and away from everything that could possibly hurt you. He’s always willing to hear you rant about things that you know you could never tell Wonwoo. 

“I’m so tired, I’m tired of feeling like this,” you admit to him. 

Running his hands through your hair, he gives you a reassuring smile. 

“Maybe it’s time to distance yourself from him a bit, you two have been glued to the hip for so long. Maybe that distance can help organize your feelings better,” he mutters, catching the stray tears that pool at your chin, and wiping them away for you. 

“I want to feel better,” you agree with him, still trying to recover from how hard you were sobbing into his chest. 

“I care about you, okay? We all do. Wonwoo cares about you, too, but there’s a point where you’ll have to be okay with whatever outcome happens if you decide to tell him how you feel. Or you just have to find a way to get over him,” he speaks softly, trying not to crush your heart with reality, but you know he’s right. “In the Future, you will thank yourself for making whatever decision you have to make, but trust me, holding all these feelings in won’t do you any good.” He ends his pep talk there, and you sigh, trying to process everything he said. 

“Thank you, Minnie, I’m so thankful I have you,” you sniffled. 

“And I you.” 

…

Seokmin explained to Soonyoung and Jihoon that you needed to go home after your talk in his bedroom. They were more than happy to take you along with them before heading back to their place, not wanting to force you into a car with Wonwoo at the end of the night. 

“Of course, it’s really no trouble at all,” Soonyoung reassures you after you had asked about a million times if it was okay to ride home with them. 

The car ride is drastically different from the one you had taken on the way to Seokmin’s, Soonyoung being the number one reason why. He’s not the best at reading the room, although Jihoon is constantly telling him to shut up. He knows you are upset over something, but Soonyoung’s way of cheering you up is getting you to laugh. While Jihoon believed that you may want a more peaceful environment after everything that happened. 

As Jihoon drove, Soonyoung sang along with the lyrics of the current song playing. Loud enough for anyone outside the car to hear him. You could tell he was a bit tipsy after the few beers he had earlier, but you didn’t mind the noise. Jihoon begged to differ. 

“Soon, can you tone it down? Please. People are looking at us,” Jihoon grumbles, trying to focus on the road ahead. 

“But you love it when I sing,” Soonyoung whines, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“I do, but our friend has had a long night,” Jihoon counters. 

Soonyoung turns to face you from the passenger seat. “If you want me to be quiet, I will.” 

“No, it’s okay, I’m actually enjoying it, thank you very much,” you giggle, and that was all the confirmation he needed, going back to his antics. 

Jihoon groans as Soonyoung practically breaks out into full song and dance, causing you to sing along with him. This distraction from all the conflicting thoughts gives you a refuge from the war inside your mind.  

The whole way back to your place was filled with singing and laughter, allowing you to finally feel at ease for once. Albeit Jihoon pretended to act annoyed the whole time, you knew he secretly loved how Soonyoung tried to bring the mood back up to help you. 

Once you got home, you thanked the two before bidding them farewell. Apprehension flowed throughout you, and you didn't want to be alone with your thoughts after being around someone as cheerful as Soonyoung. But you didn’t know where else to go or what else to do.

Laying in your bed, you think about how today went from beginning to end, and you’re scared of what will happen in the future. Sighing to yourself, you allow yourself to at least get some rest instead of staying up all night thinking about the possibilities of tomorrow. Turning your phone on "do not disturb," the stillness in your apartment lulls you to sleep. 

1:09 a.m. [wons <3]: seokmin said u went home early? u ok? 

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

chapter one. 

Wonwoo’s ride home was sombre, yet desolate. Your absence from his passenger seat irked him. Street lights whisk by his vision in a blur, but he’s too lost in his thoughts as he drives on autopilot, wondering why you went home so early. You didn’t even say goodbye. It’s the first time you went home from Seokmin’s place without him. 

By the time he got home, his curiosity had started to claw at him, but he didn’t want to be irrational and assume the worst. So he texted you, hoping that there would be an explanation awaiting him in the morning. 

Not a single notification from you came that very next morning. No matter how many times his phone went off, no matter how many notifications popped up from his screen. None of them were you. Morning turned to afternoon, and afternoon slowly turned into night. Still nothing. 

He feels dejected. Everything seemed to be going okay just last night. That was until you abruptly left without telling him you were going home. What changed? Why did it feel like there was a shift between you two? 

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo. Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the breakup and lose feelings first; every decision he made was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 

Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up at your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been. 

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his best friend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it. 

… 

Less than forty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence was perfectly normal, then maybe you would eventually end up answering him. 

12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?

Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them? 

1:27 p.m.  [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁

Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond. 

2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u.  [1 photo attachment] 

Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.

4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today? 

The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he has witnessed. 

4:30 p.m.  [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw. 

Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin, of all people, solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back. 

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he could keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up. 

two, wonwoo’s summer before senior year. 

The school year flew by with the speed of light. And before Wonwoo knew it, he was home back in Korea for the summer. The dreaded fifteen-hour plane ride over was excruciating. There was an ache in his lower back, and his knees felt like they were being struck by a hammer with every step he took. But at least the worst part was over. 

Sixteen-year-old Wonwoo was quite naive, thinking that he’d be welcomed into his home country with loving arms. That hadn’t been the case at all, and for the two months that he spent in Changwon, he couldn’t help but count the days till he could come back home. Where you had been patiently waiting for him. 

He despised being away from you, and he had yearned for you every moment he was gone. With you by his side, Wonwoo had finally understood the true meaning of solace, a peace of mind that couldn’t be replicated. Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.

Every year that Wonwoo was dragged back to Korea by his parents was excruciating. Especially because he had a certain distaste for his relatives. Maybe it was disrespectful to loathe them the way he did, but he couldn’t care less. Their scathing comments would flow out of their mouths just to pierce daggers of judgement into his back. To insult Wonwoo was second nature to his aunts, and he couldn’t do much but sit back and listen.  

Much to his dismay, his parents hadn’t even bothered to book an Airbnb for their stay, informing him and his brother that they would be staying with his aunt. He couldn’t stand his aunt Seo-Ah in particular, and he swore the feeling was mutual. Unsure of why he had to withstand her crude remarks in front of his family without much protest, he forced himself not to dish out rude rebuttals to everything she had to say. 

There was a time when Wonwoo tried to reason with himself on why his aunt was filled with so much bitterness, but he gave up on that long ago. He was about to be seventeen now, and he couldn’t bring himself to empathize with the older lady anymore. 

“Wonwoo! You’re all grown up now, and I can’t believe it,” Seo-Ah forced him into a bone-crushing hug as he tried his best not to push her off of him. She pulled back to take a closer look at him and he could already see the scrutinizing gleam in her eyes, “You know, you’re still so skinny for your age. Do your parents not feed you enough?” 

Wonwoo wanted to scoff at her, but he kept a neutral expression. 

“No they do, I don’t know maybe it’s my fast metabolism or something,” he refuted her claims. He couldn’t wait to get out of her sight. 

“You know, maybe you should start going to the gym, get some muscle on you or something,” she patted his lanky arm and laughed that dreadful laugh. The ones that have no real humour behind it, just to cover up the obvious dig she took at his appearance. 

“Yeah maybe,” he dismisses her to head into the house. Setting his luggage down to check whether or not you’ve texted him yet. 

It was about five in the evening in Changwon, but he knew you wouldn’t be asleep. Faintly recalling how you were planning to stay up late every night to watch BuzzFeed unsolved videos, or until your mom yelled at you to go to bed. 

[4:15 p.m. kst]  [you: i stayed up all night watching buzzfeed unsolved]  [you: im going crazy i keep getting paranoid to the point i’ve turned all my mirrors backwards]  [you: hope ur flight was ok tho!!! 🫶]

He chuckled to himself, remembering your wide eyes and elaborate plan to sneak snacks into your room in the early hours of the morning behind your parents’ backs. Wonwoo missed you, and your stupid obsession with horror podcasts and YouTube shows. He missed the way your smile would shine so bright as you talked about all the haunted places the hosts would visit. 

Wonwoo did not care for horror or anything scary, but if you were to ask him to stay up all night on Facetime binge-watching your little Buzzfeed videos, he would do so in a heartbeat. 

Two days down, about another 89 to go, Wonwoo thought to himself as he looked through your messages with him. You had already spammed the chat mercilessly about your first two days of summer break, and your intricate mission to stay up without accidentally falling asleep in the middle of it all. 

[6:00 p.m. kst] [1 photo attachment]  [you: currently trying to sneak snacks into my room without my mom knowing]  [you: u better not snitch 😾]  [you: its so boring w out u here btw SO COME BACK SOON PLSS]  [you: ok thats enuff…txt me when u land!]

Wonwoo really missed you. 

…

One more week and Wonwoo would finally get to see you again. The ability to talk to you in person, hug you, and spend time with you gave him something to look forward to, and thankfully, summer break went by fast because of it. 

He had spent most of his time in Korea eating at local food spots, going to the gym, and trying a lot of new things with his brother, Seongho, giving them time to bond before he went off to University again. Wonwoo had missed his brother dearly during the school year, but at least they were able to pass the time together during summer break. 

It was initially his brother’s convincing that got him to go to the gym for the very first time. The idea of going to a place with a lot of sweaty, adrenaline-filled people kind of frightened him, but the more he went, the more he started to like what he saw in the mirror. Wonwoo’s shoulders had broadened, and his lanky arms finally started to show signs of muscles. He was satisfied in knowing that all of his hard work, and Seongho’s encouragement had finally paid off. 

Seongho told him he looked a lot more carefree now that he wasn’t so worried about his appearance all the time. And it was then that Wonwoo realized that he wasn’t all that bad-looking, after all. 

Wonwoo had begun to take pride in his vanity. He searched for different ways to style his hair, bought glasses that better suited his face shape, and, most of all, did his best to act more confidently. The sudden change made him wonder how you would react. He had been anticipating your reaction, wanting to see the look on your face once he returned home. 

“You got it. Just one more rep, and we can switch,” Seongho encouraged Wonwoo as he tried to push the bar up from his chest. 

His muscles were aching in the most addictive and satisfying way. He almost wished he had started working out earlier because only good things seemed to have come ever since he stepped foot into the gym. 

“Okay! You’re done, that was good,” his older brother high-fived him, a proud smile dancing along his lips. 

“Thanks, but my arms feel like jelly now,” he huffed a chuckle before gulping down the contents of his water bottle. 

Seongho chuckled along with him before setting himself down on the workout bench. His actions faltered, and he slowly observed the mirror in front of him, raising his eyebrows in amusement. 

“Uh, don’t look now, but I think that girl is staring at you,” Seongho tilted his head in the girl’s direction and Wonwoo couldn’t be more confused. 

“Huh? Are you sure it's me they’re looking at and not you?” 

“I’m serious! You should go talk to her,” Seongho grinned, pushing his younger brother in the direction of the girl who was supposedly eyeing Wonwoo. 

“Hyung!” Wonwoo calls out but it falls on deaf ears as his older brother begins his bench presses. 

Wonwoo turns towards the girl in the most awkward way humanly possible. He was completely dumbfounded and not sure what to do in the situation he’d been put in. The girl who was staring at him waved flirtatiously, and before he could even think about his next move, his feet had begun to move on their own accord. 

“Hi, I saw you working out over there, are you new here?” she asked him, batting her eyelashes. 

“Uhm, I guess? I’m only here for the summer though,” he spoke with apprehension, because what the hell was he even supposed to say? 

“Oh! Me too. My name is Haein, by the way.” Haein’s smile reached her eyes as she giggled, and her hand extended to shake Wonwoo’s. 

Wonwoo’s actions were practically robotic, rubbing his sweaty palms on his gym shorts before taking her hand in his. He remembers thinking about how soft her hands were, and how pretty she looked with her hair tied up in a messy bun. 

“I’m Wonwoo.” 

“Wonwoo, hmm, that’s a cute name. But I think I would like it more in my contacts,” she flirted shamelessly, her fingers squeezing his sweaty bicep. 

Wonwoo’s mind short-circuited, and he took out his phone from his pocket so fast it almost slipped out of his grasp. Haein found it endearing though, and happily gave him her phone number. 

They talked for the rest of Wonwoo's time at the gym and promised to hang out more before they both went home at the end of the summer. 

To put it simply, Wonwoo was on cloud nine for the first time since he’s been here. Suddenly his aunt Seo-Ah’s words weren’t so hurtful, his confidence had skyrocketed, plus he had a beautiful girl to talk to for the rest of his vacation. 

By the end of summer, Wonwoo started to miss you less and less. Even though he still saw you as his best friend, he began to find peace in other things, like the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown. Finally, for the first time in his life, Wonwoo felt serene, and that made him a little more whole than he was when he first landed in Changwon. 

…

The after-effects of Wonwoo’s surprisingly pleasant summer vacation hadn’t worn off just yet. The gift of Haein appearing in his life seemed to just keep on giving. Not only did she live overseas, she had told him that she was actually from the same city as him. It was a little hard to believe at first as if he was the main character in a cheesy rom-com, but he couldn’t find it in him to complain. Haein made him feel wanted, excited, and cared for. 

Wonwoo wasn’t entirely devoid of those feelings, especially with you as his best friend, but it was different coming from Haein. Every time he saw her, he felt like he was going to throw up, in a good way of course, but she also boosted his confidence. He liked that she made him feel like he was a man worth depending on. 

Haein was his first real relationship, and although he was still young, he could see himself being with her for a long time. 

…

Quite like the seasons, Wonwoo’s feelings for Haein changed drastically by the time school was back in session. Although he and Haein lived in the same city, there was a lot more than just distance that separated them. 

Six months into their relationship, Wonwoo began to doubt himself. He was less eager to meet her or even text her. He could only blame himself for how things turned out with Haein. Despite his adolescence, he believed he loved her; he just got tired and disinterested. 

On a subconscious level, Wonwoo could not stop comparing Haein to you, and as fucked up as that was, it was completely out of his control. Why didn’t Haein ever want to talk about what Wonwoo was interested in? Why did she seem bored out of her mind when he would delve into his theories about his favourite shows? Or anything about himself and what he liked. As though she didn’t see him for the Wonwoo he was, the personality he had behind his looks. 

“It all makes sense now! Eren had Zeke fooled!” Wonwoo couldn’t contain his excitement about the newest episode, but Haein didn’t seem interested in hearing her boyfriend geek out. 

“I'm sorry babe, but I gave up after the first episode,” Haein sighed into the phone, and if Wonwoo could guess, she was probably picking at her cuticles out of boredom. “I just didn’t get anything that was happening.” 

“Wait, really?” He was a little offended, how could she not be obsessing over the beautiful intricacies of his favourite anime? Wonwoo didn’t understand. 

He didn’t understand because when he introduced you to the show, you texted him the next day saying you were caught up to where he had left off. It amazed Wonwoo how fast you were at binge-watching shows, especially because he had told you about it on a weekday. 

You came into school the morning after with dark circles under your eyes, but even with that tired look on your face, you ran up to him with so much eagerness while thanking him for urging you to watch his favourite show. You two were obsessed and never missed out on watching the weekly episodes together.  It had become you and Wonwoo’s thing, and even though he wanted Haein to join in on the fun, he found himself more entertained by your theories than by talking on the phone with his girlfriend. 

It dawned on him that he wished that Haein acted a little more like you. And it made him feel guilty. He knew he should’ve loved Haein no matter her interests, but he wanted someone who could understand his nerdy side. And that was only something that you were able to do. 

“Honestly, I’m really tired, I’m gonna go to bed now okay?” Haein’s voice brought Wonwoo out of his thoughts. 

“Oh okay. Night.” He said before ending the call so quickly that Haein’s ‘I love you’ was cut off mid-sentence. 

Haein probably had thought he had forgotten, but Wonwoo just didn’t want to say those words if he didn’t mean it. He had grown annoyed, and a little bored of practically talking to a wall all night.  

Comparable to the light switching off in his bedroom, he decided to do the same thing with Haein. He pushed his guilt aside and decided it was probably best to leave Haein and Changwon in the past. The memories of his last week of summer with her would become something he would look back on in the future and smile. But he didn’t want to pretend any longer, it would’ve just hurt her more if he stayed, he couldn’t help that he fell out of love with her. The least he could do was not lead her on. 

Wonwoo’s relationship with Haein was merely a catalyst and a peek into what the rest of his relationships were going to look like in adulthood. He was never able to comprehend why he couldn’t keep feelings for anyone after the six-month mark, and it almost frustrated him. Something was missing in every single relationship he had been in, and he wasn’t sure what that was. But he was determined to find an answer. 

three, present time.

The answer was you. But of course, Wonwoo didn’t know that. 

“Are you gonna keep checking your phone every five minutes or are you gonna do your homework?” Mingyu lectures him. 

The two were studying in the library before their stats midterm, but Wonwoo’s mind couldn’t help but wonder. He hasn’t been acting like himself since the night of Seokmin’s party. 

“Oh, right.” Wonwoo clears his throat, putting his phone face down on the table. 

Wonwoo drags his palms against his face, trying to not let sleep overtake him. It is not his fault that every time he tries to close his eyes, your face comes into his mind. The memory of you smiling with Seokmin made his insides twist. He hasn’t seen you smile that hard in a while, and he almost misses how your eyes crinkle whenever you do so. You were practically haunting him and he had no idea how to make it stop. 

“Not to be rude, but you’ve been looking like shit lately. What’s wrong?” Mingyu questions him with furrowed eyebrows. 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his friend, he didn’t have to be insulted to know how crappy he looked, but Mingyu seemed to only be telling the truth. Wonwoo did look and feel like shit. With the amount of near run-ins he’s had with you and Seokmin on campus, he’s begun to sense that it’s some sort of karma. Whatever that karma may be for, he fully believes that it’s completely unwarranted. 

Forcing a hand through his dark locks, Wonwoo contemplates whether or not he should just go up to you in person and demand answers. It’s uncommon for the two of you to fight, or ignore each other for that matter. But he can’t help but presume that if he were to confront you about your silence, there would be no rightful explanation. Or at least not the explanation that he wants from you. 

Every time he even fathoms the thought of barging into your apartment and asking what the hell is wrong, there’s a lingering nervousness that he wishes would dissipate, leading him to lay awake with his thoughts for hours on end. 

“Thanks for that, asshole, I just haven’t been getting much sleep,” Wonwoo huffs. 

“Okay, obviously. You practically look like a zombie with the way you’ve been moping around. What has been keeping you up?” Mingyu presses. 

It’s not every day that Wonwoo indulges in his problems with Mingyu, that’s what you were for. However, he can’t talk about his problems about you, to you, so he’ll have to settle for the next best thing.  

“Y/N has been ignoring me since the night we all hung out at Seokmin’s,” Wonwoo confesses, and it feels nice. 

For the past two weeks, he’s been keeping his frustrations to himself, and now that he can freely speak about it lifts the weight off his chest. 

Mingyu snorts, obviously finding his friend’s situation humorous. Wonwoo sneers at Mingyu’s reaction, clearly not finding anything about you ignoring him funny. 

“Serves you right, you’re a dick to her, man.” Mingyu shrugs without any remorse to spare. 

“What?” Wonwoo sputters, since when was he a dick to you? His best friend? 

“How blind are you? You have glasses and everything but you can’t see how mean you are to her sometimes? Really?” Mingyu almost sounds offended on your behalf as he stares at Wonwoo with an incredulous expression. 

“I am not a dick to her. She would definitely tell me if I’ve ever said something to hurt her feelings,” Wonwoo defends himself. 

Attempting to rack his brain of all your moments together, he can’t seem to pick out a memory where he has been especially rude to you. Of course, you two teased each other from time to time, but he wasn’t a complete asshole. He knew when to not take a joke too far or purposely try to upset you. 

“You’re a dumbass.” Mingyu lets out a frustrated sigh which only aggravates Wonwoo even more. 

“Could you stop with the insults for one second and just tell me what’s going on?” 

Shutting his laptop, Mingyu’s posture becomes serious, a deviation from his usual carefree and smiley self. He cares about you just as much as the next person, so if he had to reality-check his friend, then so be it. 

“She cares about you a lot. And you treat her like shit. It’s not about what you’ve said to her, it’s your actions. Ever since we were in high school all you’ve done is use her to solve your problems. I can’t even blame her for wanting to cut you off. I don’t know what happened at Seokmin’s place for her to realize that, but you don’t deserve her,” Mingyu confesses. 

Soaking up each word that left Mingyu’s mouth, Wonwoo sat in a pool of perplexity. There are so many questions flying through his mind, yet he can’t seem to utter a single word. Is that really how everyone perceives his friendship with you? 

Wonwoo is going to throw up. There's a tightness in his chest and a burning sensation behind his eyes. He wants nothing more than to hear all of this coming from you, not Mingyu. The frustration of wanting to talk to you about this is taking a toll on him, he doesn’t want to believe that Mingyu is telling the truth. 

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that Mingyu gets to know these things about you while Wonwoo is just left in the dark. Did he make you feel like you couldn’t tell him anything? 

Ever since Wonwoo met you, it was evident that he can be quite merciless when it comes to his relationships, but that’s romantic, not platonic. Wonwoo was convinced that he treated you equally because that’s how it's supposed to be. 

Hearing Mingyu talk about his friendship with you in that way caused Wonwoo’s whole world to crash down. And the only thing he can do in moments like these is seek out your comfort, except he can’t anymore. Not only has he been a terrible friend without realizing it, but he’s pushed you so far to the brink that you’d rather ignore him than attempt to hash out what’s been troubling you.

“I-I didn’t know that's how you guys saw our friendship,” Wonwoo falters, clearly taken aback, and still attempting to fully comprehend what’s been said to him. 

“It’s not that we see your friendship with her that way, it is that way. If I was her, I would’ve cut you off a long time ago.” 

“Well, thanks, Gyu. I feel like this could’ve been said before she started ignoring me,” Wonwoo huffs, trying to come up with the words to explain his side.

“It was kinda obvious, man,” Mingyu shrugs. 

“Was it, though? If I had known, I would’ve at least tried to be better,” Wonwoo attests, tired of feeling like the bad guy. 

“How about you just talk to her about it instead of sulking,” Mingyu suggests. 

Desperation hijacked his rational thinking, making Mingyu’s advice sound plausible. Talking to you seemed out of the equation since you started ignoring him; he feared you wouldn’t even answer if he tried to call or show up at your door. But he can’t go on like this, especially now that he knows there is more to your friendship than he had initially thought. 

four. 

For the first time in Wonwoo’s life, he’s unsure about what decision to make. Although he wants nothing more than to knock on your door, his feet stop him from even entering your building. So instead of mucking up the courage to talk to you face to face, he waits inside his car. Without a solid plan, he continues to sit there, biding his time. 

Never has he acted so pathetic in his life, not even for the sake of his relationships. He knows that nothing will come from sitting there, just watching, but before he can even comprehend what he is doing and where he is going, he is already across the street from your place. 

Gripping on the leather of his steering wheel, he just couldn’t help himself. He can’t help but watch your silhouette from your window. The curtains are drawn, but there are glimpses of you walking around. He’s such a fucking loser. What type of person has Wonwoo become that he resorts to stalking you from the front of your building? 

After all that Mingyu has enlightened him on, Wonwoo’s attitude has become less angry and more apologetic. There was a line he pondered crossing, and it practically mocked him. Stepping over that line would mean getting answers from you, demanding to be brought into the light that you had snuffed out from under him. But his uncertainty of the outcome outweighed his decision to do so.

That same apologetic attitude died a fiery death after watching Seokmin leave your apartment. There you were in all your glory, the tiny sleep set clinging onto your body as the wind forced its way into the door of your building. Then there was Seokmin, grinning like a fucking idiot as he waved goodbye. 

“Shit!” Wonwoo grunts as he ducks down, not wanting to blow his cover. His car was visible from where the two of you stood, hoping that you weren’t able to recognize it in the dead of night.  

Boring holes into the back of Seokmin’s head, Wonwoo's guilt diminished, floating away with the cold night breeze. You were fine, and he should’ve known that the root of all his problems started with the name Lee Seokmin. 

The shape of your figure had faded into the confines of your building. Yet Wonwoo can still make out your body through the glass window of your door. He can’t help but gawk at your skimpy attire, your ass practically on display for the whole world to see. The deathly twist in his gut intensifies the more he ponders on what may have happened during Seokmin’s visit. Wonwoo desperately wants to stop thinking about the possibilities, especially because your lack of clothing only fueled that inferno inside his mind. 

He’s never been more annoyed at Seokmin in his entire life, not until today. 

Wonwoo allowed himself to ignore the signs, but only for a moment. But this, this he can’t ignore. Not after what he witnessed. He allowed himself to stay ignorant when it came to your silence because he had been so naive to think that it was your decision. Now that he knows Seokmin had somehow weaselled his way closer to you, Wonwoo had to make sure this plan of his didn’t go on any longer. 

…

There is a heat inside Wonwoo that, for some reason, he cannot extinguish. The curve and outlines of your body burn in the back of his retinas. No matter how many times he’s tried to put himself to sleep, the image of you is clear as day in his mind.  Sparks crawl their way up his spine, and he desperately wishes that it would just go away. 

There’s a point where Wonwoo gave up on trying to sleep altogether. Thoughts of you, your body, and the oh-so-painful reminder that you’re still ignoring him. How can he sleep with everything going on? What made things worse, was the fact that the one person he wanted to call most likely wouldn’t pick up.

Wonwoo wasn’t the type of person to let his emotions get the better of him, but this abrupt rift that has been torn between you two has him acting out in ways he’s never acted before. 

The urge to grab his phone, to text you, to give it one more try, grows perpetually every second he lies awake. 

One more time. One more attempt. What does he have to lose? 

Wonwoo stands up, pacing around nonsensically, trying to think of what to say. For all he knows, you may not even answer, but there is the urge to hear your voice one more time and see your name pop up on his screen. Wonwoo yearns for you so much so that it supersedes any part of common sense he has left in him. 

[12:52 a.m.]  [wons <3: darling. can we talk? please?]  [not delivered] 

The silence within the four walls of Wonwoo’s bedroom is harrowing. Out of all the outcomes he had considered before he texted you, the outcome of you blocking him was not even on the list. 

Before jumping to some sort of conclusion, Wonwoo’s finger hovers over the call button with skepticism. If you don’t pick up, then that’s it. That would be the definitive answer to all his qualms. 

“The number you have called is not available, please leave a message at the tone,” an automated voice affirmed his suspicions. 

The notification is gut-wrenching, but he can’t just sit here and pretend like it’s okay for you to do this. To decide without any of his input. What kind of friend were you to just drop him like he was nothing but an old toy? How unfair did you have to be to not even try to talk it out before you completely cut him off? 

five. 

Pacing outside the door of your apartment, Wonwoo hasn’t been this nervous in years. He has always been so sure of himself, but it’s almost two in the morning and he’s still continuing to weigh his options. 

It’s either you’ll let him in, and talk for the first time in almost two weeks, or you’ll kick him out before he can step a foot past the door. Desperately, he desires that it be the first option. Losing you over this would break him, and not in the way you would expect. 

He’s already lost his mind. This shouldn’t be the way you two break it off. It won’t be the way you two break it off. Not if Wonwoo has a say in the situation. 

Sweaty palms and white knuckles rasp against the dark oak that barricades himself from you. There’s nothing that Wonwoo wants more than to see your face glowing in front of him. And before he can even get a word out to you, the door whips open. The person on the other side is someone Wonwoo is starting to get really sick of seeing. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Both Wonwoo and Seokmin speak in unison. 

Scoffing, Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his so-called friend, “I think I should be asking you that. You clearly don’t live here.” 

“Minnie? Is someone at the door?” your voice is as sweet as a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day. 

Minnie. Wonwoo almost threw up in his mouth. 

Minnie. The nickname is parallel to nails scraping against a chalkboard. 

“Yeah! Your neighbour just needed to borrow something,” Seokmin goads through a sickly sweet smile, eyes never leaving Wonwoo’s. Without as much as a word of mockery, Seokmin’s expression had said more than his words ever could have. 

Despite his soft demeanour, Wonwoo knew there was something vile hiding under Seokmin’s thick skin. 

A rebuttal to his deception is on the tip of Wonwoo’s tongue, but your melodic voice echoes throughout your home once more. The refute dies within his throat, and he hopes you will come out and see what your “neighbour” is looking for. 

“Okay!” is the only response you give out. The reverberation of the water hitting the shower tiles causes Wonwoo’s stomach to practically lurch out his abdomen. 

“Whatever you’re doing, she’s not gonna fall for it,” Wonwoo jeered, staring at Seokmin with looks that should kill, if he could. 

Seokmin chuckles bitterly, “She already has.” 

There was no need for Wonwoo to put two and two together; he already knew what Seokmin was alluding to. It left a dreadful taste in his mouth. 

Puffing out his chest, Wonwoo takes a step closer towards the man he once considered a close friend. Sizing him up, he knew that Seokmin was the reason for the wedge in your friendship. And Wonwoo had no problem treating him as such. 

“You’re fucking sick, you know that?” Wonwoo practically spits in his face. 

“I could say the same thing for you,” Seokmin mutters, unperturbed, “I didn’t have to do anything you know? Just a little push and she fell into my lap, voluntarily.” 

“I’m not just going to let you get away with something like this. She’s my best friend.” 

“I think the correct tense is was. She was your best friend,” Seokmin taunted. 

He was wrong about Seokmin. Even though he had known about his friend's crush on you for years, Wonwoo didn’t expect the lengths Seokmin would go to in order to cut him out of the picture. 

Before a breath could even escape his lips, Seokmin cuts him off, “I think it’s time for you to leave. She doesn’t want to see you.”

The last few words that he heard come out of Seokmin’s mouth nearly fell on deaf ears. It was practically a whisper, laced with enough malice to almost kill the fighting spirit inside him. Almost. 

“By the way, don’t text her anymore. I’ve made sure she won’t get any more notifications from you.” 

The realization had struck Wonwoo hard. He knew you well enough that you wouldn’t just block him so carelessly, without a word no less. Yet he was no match for Seokmin, not after the fact that you allowed him into your home, your heart, so willingly. 

…

Lying in wait, Wonwoo observes the door of your building once more. The distinct difference this time was that Wonwoo had no guilt left in him to care. Whether you see him or his car across the street didn’t matter to him anymore. The only thing Wonwoo wanted to make sure of was whether or not Seokmin would be leaving your place. 

After what had felt like hours, he watched the same scene from last night unfold in front of him once more. The abhorrent hug goodbye that is exchanged between you and Seokmin is nothing but a cue for Wonwoo to make his move.

With as much grace as a bull in a china shop, he slams the car door shut, not even bothering to lock it before he stalks his way to your apartment. The anticipation caused the hairs on his neck to stand straight up. As he presses the button to your floor, he can only deliberate whether any of Seokmin’s words hold any truth behind them.

 Certainly not, right? Not after all the years you spent together. His friendship with you couldn’t end on this vague note. You were always the sentimental type, holding onto trinkets, memories, and even people for far too long. It should be the same with Wonwoo; he believed it would be the same. 

If there is a chance, you should allow him to talk and voice his opinion. No, Wonwoo will voice his opinion; there has never been a time when you haven’t let him speak. 

As the elevator ascends to your floor, anxiety begins to weigh down his shoulders. The feeling is atypical and Wonwoo hates how his throat constricts. He hates how his clothes feel too tight and stuffy despite his casual attire. Is this how it feels? To actually care about someone and whether their decisions might affect him later on? 

Footsteps echo within the hallway, and with each step he takes, the illusion steadily becomes more vivid. Your front door almost looks like it’ll take a mile before Wonwoo can reach it, rather than a few feet away. 

After what felt like years, Wonwoo stands before the entrance of your home once more. The foreboding tension won’t vanish and it’s starting to make him itch. Without another thought, Wonwoo forces himself to knock on the door knowing it’ll be you who answers this time, not Seokmin. 

“Minnie? Did you leave something agai—,” Abrupt silence engulfs your words, leaving nothing but an echo to resonate within the expanse of your long hallway.

“Wonwoo…” your voice falters, like you genuinely didn’t expect to see him, let alone have him standing outside your door. 

“Did you fuck him?” Wonwoo cuts to the chase, not leaving any room for you to ask questions. 

His blunt words caused a frown to grace your soft pink lips, and Wonwoo almost felt bad for being so frank. But he doesn’t have time to beg for your forgiveness, the anger surmounting to nothing but harsh words and a push past you and into your home. 

“Did you fuck him? Yes or no?”  Wonwoo continues to press you for answers, agitated that you have the audacity to stand there dumbfounded. As if you don’t know who he's talking about. “C’mon, you know who I’m talking about,” he can almost laugh at the situation in front of him. 

How is it that all the rage he built up for Seokmin is being taken out on you? Wonwoo had no clue, but the thought of his friend-now-enemy defiling you, tasting you, while Wonwoo desperately waited for your call caused him to direct all his anger to you. Perhaps it’s undeserving to do so, but Wonwoo’s frustration spoke for him before his brain could even register what he was saying. 

“The past two weeks you’ve been ignoring me, spending your time with him, do you know where his true intentions lie?” Wonwoo continues to rant with unpreparedness. 

He didn’t plan what he was going to say because there was a moment of doubt, he had expected you to open the door just to slam it right back in his face. The look you gave him almost brought him to his knees. Your doe-eyed expression could’ve broken down every wall he’s built if only he hadn’t let his anger proceed him. 

Wonwoo should’ve cried, to plead for you to take him back. To go back to the way things were. He knew he fucked up the moment he uttered a single word. The hurt flashed across your face as though Wonwoo turned your world upside down. 

“Seokmin doesn’t care about you, and I’ll tell you that now because you need to hear it. He just wants to fuck you! And you just gave that to him?” He can’t stop talking. 

“Stop. Just stop fucking talking Wonwoo. Do you hear yourself right now?” You cut off his rant. “Out of all people, who gave you the right to tell me who I can and cannot fuck? Especially knowing the type of person that you are. It doesn’t matter if Seokmin and I had sex. What matters is the fact that you think you can barge in here at two-thirty in the morning interrogating me over a situation that doesn’t involve you.” 

“No. I’m just trying to help you. Seokmin isn’t the person that you think he is,” Wonwoo seethes, annoyed at how you’re twisting his words. 

The bile in his throat rose further, as you stood before him like he had just kicked your dog. Wonwoo’s extremely aware of the hole he had dug for himself, but he couldn’t stop. His urge to self-sabotage overrides his common sense. 

“That is exactly what we’re not going to do right now. Seokmin has been a better friend to me than you have been in all the years we’ve known each other. I have been by your side for years, bending over backwards. I was at your beck and call and I’m tired. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and warn myself about you. I fell in love with my best friend, and the worst part was that you didn’t care enough to notice. 

“I gave up so much for you, Wonwoo. I lost myself trying to please you. But I give up. I was drowning in my love for you. It consumed every part of me to the point I couldn’t even come up for air. And I’m just sick of it. I know there’s a part of you that cares about me too, but it’ll never be equal. I’ll always love you more than you love me, and I don’t want to feel this way anymore.” 

“What hurts me the most, is that you thought it would be okay to accuse me of things I didn’t even do. I did not sleep with Seokmin, but why is that what you care about?  He respects me and just wants to be there for me. And that’s a lot more than I could ever say about you.” 

Your voice was terrifyingly calm, with neither a lilt nor a hiccup during your speech. The heft of your declaration crashed back down onto Wonwoo, leaving him at a loss for words. 

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing to come out of his mouth after a long pause. 

“Please. It’s late, you should go home,” you sigh, but Wonwoo couldn’t move an inch. He refused. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats himself, looking into your eyes, searching for the look of endearment you had always given him. 

“Wonwoo…” there it is. Your voice had broken for the first time since Wonwoo stepped foot in the place. 

“Please. I’m so fucking sorry. For getting angry, for doubting you, for not realizing how badly you were hurting,” Wonwoo resorted to pleading. 

A look of desperation mixed with agony was the only thing you could exchange for his apologies.

The stare of grief you had given him caused a shooting pain to swell throughout his limbs. The one that begins at his fingertips, creeping up to tug at the strings that held his heart together. He wanted this nightmare to end, and he was sure you did too. 

“It’s time for you to go. I’m tired, Wonwoo.”  A single tear slips and trickles down your cheek. 

He regrets not wiping it away for you at that moment. It was the first time he had been so unsure of his actions. So, instead, he walked out of your apartment, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of his cologne and a piece of his heart. 

Wonwoo's world was crumbling underneath him, and there was only one person he refused to let go of. He should’ve known.

He should’ve known that you were in front of him this whole damn time.

end of act one.

⊹ a/n: if you liked this story pls dont be afraid to let me know thru a reblog, comment or ask! also a big ty to my beshies forever @vapidlynn and @bunnyjjongie who i've texted multiple times in the wee hours of the morning for reassurance abt this thing hehe.

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

Ways I can think of that “DanDaDan” differs from other shonen series:

* Female MC is as important as male MC

* Canon romance gets consistent development through the series. I think that’s part of the reason why the MC ships with the rivals (Aira, Jiji) aren’t as popular with the fandom for once. The main ship is actually getting good development, so the fanbase doesn’t have to make up headcanons to fill in the space.

* Flips the found family trope on its head by having the main group despise new people whenever they show up and they even actively try to kick them out. The new people only end up staying because they keep lingering around to the point that the main group just gives up and lets them stay.

* The rivals aren’t emo or angst-ridden. Aira is a delusional tryhard popular girl while Jiji is a himbo drama queen. I’d even go as far to say that the MCs are the ones who are emo and angst-ridden.

* Supporting cast is more than just important, they become integral to the story. I’d say that the further you read into DanDaDan, the more it becomes an ensemble cast where everyone is a protagonist in their own right.

* World-building is all over the place, but in a good way. Most other shonen are pretty consistent with what kind of world their characters live in. MHA is superhero-based, Naruto is ninjas and magic, Bleach is spirits, and so on. DanDaDan feels like the author just throws whatever cool shit they can think of into the story. That’s actually the reason why I wrote in a different post that DanDaDan reminds me more of Marvel/DC than any other shonen series, it manages to capture the catch-all insanity of those comics.

* Doesn’t rely on hidden power-ups. The main characters either have to outsmart the villains or they have to train to get better with the powers they already have.

* The pervert comic relief guy is actually endearing for once. Not because of his pervert tendencies, but because he’s so oblivious to how socially inept he is that it’s kind of funny. This is gonna sound strange, but he sorta reminds me of Thor in Thor Ragnarok. Full of himself and oblivious to how dumb he can be. He’s Thor without the good looks lol.

* Flips the “nerdy outcast loser somehow gets a harem” trope. Instead of making Okarun cooler than how he actually is, the story emphasizes that the women who fall for Okarun are as weird as him. Momo is a weird outcast, Aira has main character syndrome, Vamola doesn’t understand how to human because she’s literally not one, Rin thought Okarun was a vampire (and wanted him to be).

* Flips the “elderly figure in charge of the teenagers” trope. I don’t really get motherly figure vibes from Seiko Ayase, I get more “cool wine aunt who is stuck with her niece” vibes. In fact, there was the arc where Okarun showed up to her in spirit mode to get her help with fighting off the alien invasion and Seiko’s response was, “Well, I’m not in the area and I have other shit to do, so you kids figure it out.”

* The series takes the piss out of the trope of mystical/magical items that the group acquired to get their powers. I mean…the main mystical MacGuffin in the series are Okarun’s balls.

* Okarun was about to go into an “I’m weak / I wish I was stronger / I want to get stronger for my friends” breakdown, but Turbo Granny told him to shut up and keep fighting.

* Not afraid to put the “cool girl” in as many funny situations as possible. Off the top of my head, the series built up Momo as this cool, tough girl who doesn’t take shit from anyone…then several chapters later, Okarun found out she got a job at a maid cafe.

(Feel free to add to the list!)

[livelaughlovesubs]

Dom!reader x sub!scarletella

Warning: fictional stuff - stimulation through a separate object (?), inspired by some fanarts (artists are amazing), teasing, degrading pet names

I’m seeing so many fanarts that have this implanted and I HAVE to do something about my horniness that’s holding me back from working so, as far as I understand, for mr. Scarlettela his real body is his umbrella or it’s at least connected to him - anyway, can’t believe I’m writing about homicipher bruh, I feel ashamed T^T

!!Spoiler warning!! This is not canon but has some elements from it

He is a good boy, he really is! Well, maybe not at all times, but he’s trying his best for you. And haven’t you seen just how much he loves and trusts you? He’s basically devoted to you! Like a faithful follower~ Handing the red umbrella he always carries over to you so easily, when he normally would never let anyone touch it, let alone give or lend it. It’s just proof of how much he likes you!

So why were you so mean and destroyed it? You like him, didn’t you know that his umbrella is connected to him? Why were you hurting him. He didn’t understand, he didn’t even know what to do. Because in the end, he still liked you.

Now this over 8 feet tall creature was kneeling in front of you, head lowered in confusion as he stared at the concrete floor. You were still holding the now broken umbrella, scoffing as you stared down at his rather pathetic form. It wasn’t entirely broken, just some bend metal and rough ends, or a little tear here and there. Yet for some reason his clothes were torn and disheveled, hands shaking slightly as he kept mumbling the words ‘I don’t understand’ or ‘I like you’ over and over again. At first he seemed intimidating, but now you didn’t have an ounce of fear left.

There must have been a connection between him and this umbrella. Instead of speculating, best just ask him.

Slowly you pointed the long object in your hand at him, the tip pushed below his chin as you made him look up at you. His round, almost completely dark eyes stared right at you, one side was covered by his crimson hair. There were tears steaming down his cheeks, he was crying, how unexpected. The two of you locked eyes for a few seconds, and you wondered what you should do about this crazed man.

While their language was hard to grasp at first, you were getting the hang of it by now. “This umbrella, is you?” The meaning of the question itself was unbelievable, but since this ghost realm exists, maybe your hypothesis wasn’t that out of place. “Yes. Me body.” Look at that, you were right. That explains why he suddenly got so sad. You groaned internally and pulled your arm back, using the umbrella as a cane instead.

As you were still thinking over your next step, his hands reached out to you hesitantly, and softly tugged at the ends of your coat. After stretching the fabric out a little, he leaned his forehead against it, mumbling almost inaudibly, “please don’t go, I like you.” You raised an eyebrow, the corners of your mouth subconsciously moving upwards as you snickered, “What?” His grip got a little tighter and his hand trembled from tensing his muscles so much, then he said a little louder, “I like you, don’t you like me?”

God you wanted to laugh, this was so sad it was laughable. How in the world did he come to that conclusion? In that moment, you had a lot to say it him, but due to the language barrier you couldn’t convey it really well. So you just talked to yourself, needing some time to vent.

“Oh you poor thing.” You chuckled in your own language, the one he didn’t understood. “What am I supposed to do with a perv like you?” He looked up at you again, wanting to ask what you said if not for your shoes that were pressing against his chest. “..what?” The person- or monster asked, but he didn’t resist your touch and leaned back, following your guidance. From earlier up to this point, he has been kneeling, just this time he was also using his arms behind his back to stabilise himself.

Without changing the almost arrogant look in your eyes, you used the gift he gave you to trace some imaginary lines on his body. The tip glided from his jawline to the tip of his chin, and you asked, “your name?” The heavy tension was something he also caught on, and he hesitated, not knowing to what this would lead. He shook his head, forcing out a “don’t know…”

You hummed slowly, showing you understood the message. Nonetheless, you continued to move the tip down his neckline all the way to his toned collarbones, “I’ll give you a name.” His eyes widened even more, it made him look objectively creepier, but you thought he looked like a dumb puppy. All big eyes, bearing a deep need and raw desire in his pupils. “How about,” then, just like drawing with a stick in the mud, you traced the word, “Scarlet,” over his chest, simultaneously voicing out the word.

He shuddered as the hard surface scribbles around his torso, squeezing his lips together while he tried to stay still for you. You weren’t being exactly gentle there. When you stopped to glance at him, he quickly nodded. That wasn’t the end to your little play yet, and you slid the pointy end across his abs and stomach, down to his thighs, making him spread them a little wider, “I gave you a name, so you’ll be my servant from now on. Understood?” This has been said in your language, but you hoped he’ll get the overall meaning.

Again he nodded. In his head, being your servant meant you liked him, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t keep him around! So how could he ever say no.

“Use your mouth.” You ordered, digging the tip into his flesh a little, and he answered shortly after, “I understand, me happy.” Sweat was forming on his forehead, and his previous crying ceased. Instead a faint taint of pink covered his cheeks, and he stared at you almost manically. “Good.” You said, which was basically a praise— right? —and he smiled, a shaky, breathless one.

A little behind you was a chair, and you dragged it closer to the still kneeling man below you. Even you were starting to get tired of standing, so you sat down in a comfortable position. “What now.” You said to yourself, not really paying him any attention anymore. It would be nice if you had a collar, would red or black look better on him? But your resources were limited, and you didn’t exactly have a lot of things with you as well. That’s when you absentmindedly thought over what you did own.

Besides that crowbar you’ve found down here, you really didn’t have a lot. Well, you also had a broken umbrella now— hold up, that’s right, you own him now. A rather sadistic thought came to mind, and you pondered to what limit you could control him with this red, unusual umbrella. Would he feel your presence when you just hold it? You got lost in your thoughts again, fumbling with the torn textile and the handle. This didn’t stop until a strange sound caught your attention.

Your eyes left the red batch of fabric in your hands, and instead wandered to the other red thing in the room. He crawled into a ball, arms folded in front of his body while his head pressed against the ground. It looked like he was in pain again, though you weren’t sure if these noises were whimpers of pain or pleasure. “You okay?” You eventually asked, and he whispered in a higher pitch, “me okay..!”

Once again your gaze returned to the umbrella. He must be in this state due to something you did, and so you tightened your grip around the handle while mindlessly drawing a line with your index finger on the panel. As expected, his shoulder jerked upwards even more, and he rolled more together, as if he wanted to take up as little space as possible. His entire body was twitching, also for some reason his coat was only hanging off his arms now.

“You are into it.” You commented, not even too shocked to learn this rather unnecessary fact. At least you can have your fill of fun with this. “What about this?” Suddenly you started moving your hand up and down the handle, rubbing the umbrella panel with the other hand. It was a truly humbling experience to do something implied sexual to a literal object, but your eyes were glued to the ghost before you, so you didn’t even notice how weird it must have looked.

And sure enough, there was a change in his behaviour, he got louder. Your smile widened involuntarily, and your pace also got quicker and rougher. Oh fucking hell, if he was really feeling that kind of sensations, you won’t be able to stop yourself. It was like you were hypnotised, concentrated on nothing but his expressions. On the different ways his face twisted into one of ecstasy.

A big, dark, lunatic grin, paired with fanatic eyes that were ripped wide open. Some hints of a scarlet blush covering his face while sweat rolled down his face. Those perverse sounds he made were proof of the probably internal pleasure he felt, and he quivered all over, still bend down on the floor. Now that you’ve got a better grasp of what was happening, you realized he was crawled together to hide something.

“Ngh, hgGnn- ah..! Please…♥︎～” he whined at your feet, drool dripping from the corners of his mouth and landing on the floor. You’ve been fumbling with the handle for some time, so you’ve gotten bored again and was curious about if the textile was a part of his being as well. Without a second thought, you simply stuck two fingers between the folds, and you were met with a heavily muffled moan.

“Arghhh-…MmmHFfffF～ ♡♡♥︎” Once he felt your touch, he bit into his own palm to quiet himself down. At some point he started crying again, glistening tears decorating his already ruined face. You didn’t think his reaction would be this good, this lewd, whatever you did, he must have liked it a lot. Which is why, despite the absurdity of your actions, you moved your fingers in and out of the holes or just randomly caressed whatever part you felt like touching.

Out of nowhere you felt something tugging at your coat again, it gave off a sense of Deja vu. Of course it was him, who was only pinching the corner of it with a shaky hand. His grip had lost any strength compared to before, and you couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. “What?” You asked him, though you didn’t stop your administrations. He cried out when he opened his mouth to speak, breaking down in front of you, for your entertainment only.

“Haaaa-HnnGh… wait, p-please wait-!♡” Was he telling you it was too much? It’s making you want to overstimulated him even more. He was being so pathetic it was cute. Without wasting a single second, you went as fast as you could, blatantly ignoring his pleads. Based on your own observations, he must have been close, if he was similar to a real person. “Feels good?” You asked, to make sure he was alright. He didn’t reply again and only nodded all weakly, but you’ll let it slide this time.

He felt so hot and strange, it was a nice but unfamiliar feeling. Not only that, he felt something burning building up inside him and it was threatening to spill. That’s why he wanted you to slow down. Poor thing was confused, absolutely baffled what this warm feeling was. Is it love? It must be love. He loved you and you loved him after all. All in all it wasn’t a bad feeling, and since you seemed happy, he is too!

Another sudden wave of pleasure coursed through him, his eyes were clouded with lust and bliss, and the dirty whimpers that slipped past his lips got more erotic by the second. How desperate and lovesick he sounded, begging, pleading, squirming and trashing around on the spot. Thighs pressed together while his toes curled, back arched as a last moan ripped from his throat, “nnNgGHhh ♡♥︎ ♡～” Just as you predicted, that must have been his climax. Now’s the question, did he came in his pants? Did such things still have a reproductive system?

My my, it seems that is the case, whatever it was it seeped through the dark fabric of hi trousers, causing an even darker spot to appear.

You only caught glimpses of it since he was hiding his own body so much, but you were content nevertheless. Since he was so obedient the entire time, you decided to be nice to him with the limited vocabulary you had. “Cute.” His kneeling figure was still shuddering and twitching, ragged gasps and pants were also coming from him. But for him, the only thing he could hear was your voice ringing and echoing in his mind, as well as the awfully loud beats of his own heart.

After all this time, you finally praised him! Well you did before but this time he was sure of it! And you found him cute! He was so happy he couldn’t stop grinning. That’s when you said, “do you want anything?” It was to kind of make up for making a fool out of him, or maybe for breaking his umbrella. He didn’t even think before quickly turning his head up, slurring out, “g-give me you name?” You blinked, that wouldn’t have been what you wished for but oh well. Right before you simply told him the answer you stopped yourself, and responded teasingly, “call me master.”

You weren’t sure if he knew the meaning behind it, but it didn’t matter. He had a blank look for a few seconds, mumbling to himself, most likely repeating that word a thousand times. While he did that, he let his head hang low again, facing the floor. His hair hid his face really well, and you couldn’t read his expression. “You alright?” You asked once the silence started to make you feel uneasy.

He placed both his hand on the floor and leaned down, until his face was hovering centimetres above your shoe, and he whispered eagerly, excessively so, “I’m happy, master. I love you.” Before kissing the tip of your shoe. You stared down in disbelief, a shiver running down your spine. He was more of a freak than you thought.

The moment he was done, you grabbed a fistful of his hair, proceeding to yank on it, making him face you on eye-level while he gasped in surprise. Your other hand clutched the umbrella more tightly, causing him to groan slightly. “Stupid dog.” You chuckled with a sinister smile spread across your face, watching as hearts appeared in the middle of his pupils.

[alotofpockets]

Practice makes perfect | Leah Williamson x Reader

Where you and Leah practised kissing each other to prepare for kissing boys, but you quickly realise that after that you don't want to kiss anyone but her

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.5k

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As the only two girls on the boys' team growing up, you and Leah clicked right away. Football brought you together, but it was everything else about her that kept you close. Not many people had stuck around in your life the way Leah had. From meeting at six years old to now, a decade later, she was still your best friend.

The football dream was becoming reality for the both of you. The young Lionesses and Arsenal Academy were where you spend most of your time besides school or each other’s houses. The two of you were inseparable and everyone knew it. Where you went Leah went, and visa versa.

“Remember when we were like twelve and we practised kissing?” Leah asks you out of nowhere while you’re sitting in her bed and playing video games. You think back to the moment.

It was a similar situation to this one, you were having a sleepover and had just finished watching a romcom. “How do you know if you’re gonna be a good kisser if you’ve never kissed someone before?” Leah asked with a voice filled with curiosity. 

“I have no clue. Why don’t they show those parts in the movies?” You turned off the tv and pulled the covers further over your body. “Exactly! Like when I kiss a guy for the first time, I want to make sure that like I can kiss him properly, you know?” 

You nodded, understanding her concerns. “What if we practised kissing together? Then we can tell each other if we’re any good.” Leah loved your idea and instantly sat up in bed again. “You are brilliant!” 

She made you sit up as well and once you did she double checked if it was okay. When you nodded in confirmation, she leaned in and pecked your lips. “How did I do?” She instantly asked. “Good I think, what about me?” She smiled proudly, “Nice, you as well.” 

You had practised a couple more times that night, and when you both liked boys, you had practised some more so that the first kisses you would have with them would be perfect.

“Yeah, I remember.” In the meantime Leah had paused the game to fully focus on the conversation she wanted to have. “I was wondering if maybe we could practise something again.”

“What do you want to practise?” You asked to urge her to go on. “Well, I heard from some girls in our class that they’ve been making out with their boyfriends, and they talked about how it goes and everything, but even with that information I don’t feel even remotely ready to just make out with a guy. So, I thought that maybe, if you’re up for it of course, we could practise like we did before?”

Even with the introduction Leah gave, her question still caught you off guard. Leah’s hopeful eyes were hard to ignore while you thought about her question. “Just so we don’t totally embarrass ourselves when the time comes.”

"Yeah, exactly! I don’t want to make things weird between us though, you can totally say no.” She quickly added.  “It’s not weird.” you said shifting to sitting cross-legged, facing Leah, on her bed. “We’re just practising.”

Leah’s face lit up with relief, “Exactly, Just practising.” She turned to sit cross-legged as well. She told you how your classmates had described making out, so you were both on the same page. 

“So, eh,” you cleared your throat, “do we just go for it?” Leah let out a nervous laugh, “I guess so?” You nodded, which Leah took as her sign to start leaning in. She inched closer slowly, until her lips brushed yours. 

At first she just pecked your lips like you had practised before. Your heart started beating faster, but you didn’t understand why. Her soft, warm lips on yours felt familiar, yet somehow different. “Still okay?” She asked to make sure you wanted to do this as well. “Yeah.”

You leaned in this time and let your lips move in sync with hers. Your heart thudded loudly in your chest as Leah reached out her hand and cupped your cheek to pull you a little closer. 

When she pulled back after a few moments, her eyes searched yours. “How was that?” 

Your brain felt like it was running a million miles an hour, and you were scrambling to find words. “Good.” You managed finally. “What about me?” Leah’s lips quirked into that proud smile she had done last time, “Good too.” 

A feeling came over you that you had never felt before, you couldn’t quite place it, but before you could overthink it, Leah was leaning in again. “Practice makes perfect, right?” she said softly, and when you didn’t move away, her lips were on yours again.

That night while Leah slept soundly besides you, your mind wouldn’t stop racing. Trying to make sense of what you were feeling. 

It wasn’t until a few weeks later when you saw Leah kiss a boy in your class, that you realised what was happening. The moment you saw the two of them together, you felt a pang of jealousy. All you knew in that moment was that you weren’t jealous of Leah in that moment, but you were jealous of him. 

You turned on your heels and got away from the situation as quickly as possible. Of course, you headed straight over to the football field. The one place where everything felt right. You must’ve spent hours kicking a ball around until your parent’s called asking when you’d be home. “No Leah tonight?” Your mom had asked when you walked in, seemingly without the blonde by your side. You hadn’t even thought about it, but usually Leah would join you on Fridays. “Eh, no not tonight.” You say quickly. “Do I have time for a quick shower?” Your mom nodded and you rushed to your room. 

You checked your phone and sure enough you had a bunch of messages from Leah. The last one read I hope everything is alright. Couldn’t find you at school so I headed home. Please text me back!

You didn’t text Leah back that night, or the next morning. It wasn’t that you were mad at her, of course you weren’t, you didn’t think you ever could be, but you just didn’t know what to say. Every time you thought about her, you saw that boy’s lips on hers. Every time you saw it play back in your mind, it made your chest ache.

But Leah was Leah. Persistent, stubborn, and your best friend. So, it didn’t take her long to just show up at your house unannounced. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” She stated from your doorframe, after your dad had let her in. She found you laying on the floor with one of your textbooks in front of you, trying to bury yourself into your homework. “What’s going on?” 

You glanced at her and then quickly focused back on your textbook. “Nothing.” Leah shook her head and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “Liar.” She sighed, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” You said a little too quickly and defensive for Leah to believe it. She crossed her arms and leaned against your door, studying you like she was trying to solve a puzzle. “I just need some space.” You said softly, unable to meet her eye.

“Since when do we do space?” Her voice softened. She walked further into your room and sat down on the edge of your bed. “Come on, talk to me.”

You wanted to. You wanted to tell her everything. You always told Leah everything, but how could you tell her about your feelings? How could you tell her that you were jealous of a guy she kissed? Talk about the way your heart raced when you made eye contact with her? 

“I’m fine, Lee.” You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes and Leah could tell. You saw that she was fighting her inner monologue to press further, her lips parting like she was about to. Before she could say anything, your mother yelled upstairs, “Leah, honey, are you staying for dinner?”

Leah turned to you, “Do you want me to go?” You shake your head, “No, it’s okay. You can stay.” She opened the door and told your mom she would love to before turning back to you. “I’m gonna help her with dinner, you know, so you can have some more space.” This time you noticed her smile not fully reaching her eyes, but before you could say anything, she had already closed the door behind herself.

You stopped ignoring Leah, because you knew she would just find a way in, but that didn’t mean that your interactions were any less awkward, well at least for you. From Leah’s side it seemed like nothing had happened, while you questioned every interaction you had with her.

When she laughed at your jokes, or let her hand linger on your arm or leg, everything made your skin feel like it was on fire.

A few weeks later Leah was picking out her prom outfit with her mom. She had tried on a bunch of dresses, but none of them seemed to be what she was looking for. Today was the last chance of finding something, since prom was literally tonight. So, Amanda was determined to spend the whole morning driving from store to store until they found something.

It was the third store of the morning where Leah’s eyes fell on a baby blue suit, and she knew instantly that that was going to be the one. Her mom encouraged her to put it on, and the smile on her daughter’s face was exactly the reason why she had.

“This is going to be the one!” Leah said as she admired the suit in the mirror. “It’s lovely Leah Cathrine.” Leah smiled big, “Thank you.” After paying for the clothes, the pair headed back to the car.

“Oh mom, I wanted to ask if you could drive y/n and me tonight.” Her mom’s brow furrowed. “Darling of course I would, but I thought y/n wasn’t going?” Leah looks at her mom as if she was crazy. “What makes you think that?”

“Oh well, because that’s what she said yesterday. She said she wasn’t really feeling up to going.” Leah didn’t understand, you hadn’t told her anything. “But she was so excited about it and had her outfit picked out like months ago already. Do you know why she isn’t going?”

Amanda shakes her head, “I don’t know.” Leah was quick to respond. “You didn’t push further?” Amanda chuckles lightly, “No, that’s more your thing, darling.”

Leah sat back in the seat and crossed her arm, going over what she could do. “Can you drive me to her place tonight?” She nodded, “Sure, darling.”

You were watching a movie in your sweats when you heard a knock on the door. When you opened the door, Leah stood in front of you with a small bouquet of flowers. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at prom?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Leah shoots back instantly. “I’m not going Lee, you should still go though. I’m sure your boyfriend would like you to be there.”

“Boyfriend?” Leah steps inside and closes the door behind her. “What are you talking about? I don’t have a boyfriend.” You shrug your shoulders, “I saw you and Steve kiss, figured you two were together.”

“Oh no definitely not.” Leah said defensively, “He kissed me, and I told him that I wasn’t interested.” You searched her eyes for anything to prove what she was saying wrong, but she seemed sincere. “Oh.”

“So, come to prom with me?” Leah said, holding out the bouquet to you. “Sorry, Lee, I can’t.” She retracted the flowers reluctantly. “Why not?”

Her question hung in the air. Again you wanted to tell her, but you just couldn’t. “I just can’t, please drop it.” But Leah was Leah and there wasn’t any scenario in which she would drop this. “I won’t drop it. You’ve been excited about your outfit, the music, the pictures. You’ve been talking about prom non-stop for months and now you’re here in sweats not going. Please just tell me what’s going on. If I did something, let me in and let me fix it.” Her plea sounded desperate.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, and there is nothing you can fix.” You sighed in frustration, wishing she would just drop it. “Did someone else do something? Please just tell me what’s going on.”

“Fine, okay, I’ll tell you.” Leah focussed on you instantly, not having expected you to break so soon. “I can’t go to prom with you because ever since we practised making out, all I can think about is wanting to kiss you again.” 

Your eyes were looking anywhere but Leah, not ready to see the way she would react to that confession. “Please look at me.” She slowly reached up her hand to your cheek to turn your head to face her. You expected anger, disgust, or even hurt in her eyes, but instead you were met with softness. 

“You know the reason I told Steve I wasn’t interested?” You shook your head. “It’s because after he kissed me, I felt nothing. Which was a stark opposite to how I felt when we kissed. I swear it was just practise when I asked you, but I think that was exactly what I needed to realise my feelings for you.” Leah confessed. 

You stare at her for a moment, taking in the confession. She liked you the same way that you liked her? The corners of your lips slowly rose as it was all coming together in your head. And then without hesitation, you lean in and kiss her for real this time. She kissed you back instantly, and pulled you closer like she had done last time. It felt even better than your time practising, now knowing your feelings for each other.

When Leah pulled away, she leaned her forehead against yours. “So, prom?” Your smile grew. “Yes, just let me get changed.” 

You rushed to your room and quickly got ready. “Wow, you look amazing!” Leah said as you walked back downstairs. “So do you!” You pecked her lips appreciatively. She took your hand and pulled you out the door where her mom was still waiting in the driveway. “Ready to go to prom, girls?” She knew by your happy faces that whatever was going on between the two of you these past weeks, was resolved. “Yeah, more than ready.” You said and Leah squeezed your hand. “Yeah, let’s go.”

-----

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[dykedvonte]

I think a big misunderstanding is the power people give Curly to actually change things about the way the pony express operates or could’ve done things on the Tulpar.

We are talking about a company that docks pay for bad synergy despite mandated psych evals that should tell which staff members would work well together, only allots for 5 hours of sleep despite having literally no other tasks to truly do and locks all resources behind the access of one person. The last one is likely to manage resources and make it easier to justify collective punishment and blaming one person for it; someone needs something in “excess” or the captain gives in? It’s all on them your pay is docked. Instant resentment.

It’s insidious how the company works, it’s by design to distract you from coming after them, to force tensions to line their own pockets. With all the restrictions and forced interactions, altercations are bound to happen. 5 hours of sleep a day, limited sources of entertainment, no real tasks… the monotony alone would cause bad cabin fever, mix that with just only one absolute mediator and you get the exact environment that allows shit like in the game to happen.

The idea he could just complain and try to throw his weight around to get them to dig into their pocket for the crews comfort is laughable and misses the predatory and dehumanizing aspect of capitalism the Pony Express represents. Curly was and is still just another asset to them. Being a top show pony doesn’t mean he’s anywhere close to the actual top. He is the top of the working ladder, not whoever’s in corporate, he wouldn’t even be on the bottom step unlike what Jimmy perceives. The resounding recommendations he would get are almost mocking as they throw him out like nothing just like the rest. Being a shitty fucking company, how much do you bet they’d mean anything anyways, especially since he wanted to leave the field all together.

He made a fuss and they didn’t listen, he says he should’ve done more but you can tell he knows it wouldn’t have changed anything. Jobs like this are willing to make a sacrifice if it means even a penny more. Curly makes a bigger fuss they likely would’ve just found an “unrelated” reason to fire him, hired a more pliable guy or, terrifyingly, promoted Jimmy. The company was failing, going to shut down whether anything happened on the ship or not. But knowing that they were shutting down and that everyone, including him, would be out of a job with this being their last paycheck, he had to factor in not destroying the last bit of their financial stabilities combined with every other issue on the vessel and his own. He gets another cryopod or locks and then he has to break to them that they are not only fired but there will be substantial cuts to their paychecks due to the “upgrades” (things that already should’ve been in place on their part) on top of anything else that could be docked along the way.

You can blame him for saying it so early into the trip but then again, if he mentioned it later who’s to say it wouldn’t have been worse? On the capitalism side alone how would people in a galaxy away from home, out of a job and already stir crazy react? Don’t get me started on how Jimmy would have reacted if he realized he only had two days left to fix what would be a very hard to miss “problem” in his head…

I can’t even consider explaining this as devils advocate because it’s just facts of the world we and they live in and factors that heavily affected the situation. People are just so quick to make claims on the ease of the choices when P.E literally makes it hard to choose to do anything but suck it up.

[subjectsix]

KIP'S BIG POST OF THINGS TO MAKE THE INTERNET & TECHNOLOGY SUCK A LITTLE LESS

Post last updated November 23, 2024. Will continue to update!

Here are my favorite things to use to navigate technology my own way:

A refurbished iPod loaded with Rockbox OS (Rockbox is free, iPods range in price. I linked the site I got mine from. Note that iPods get finicky about syncing and the kind of cord it has— it may still charge but might not recognize the device to sync. Getting an original Apple cord sometimes helps). Rockbox has ports for other MP3 players as well.

This Windows debloater program (there are viable alternatives out there, this one works for me). It has a powershell script that give you a little UI and buttons to press, which I appreciate, as I'm still a bit shy with tech.

Firefox with the following extensions: - Consent-O-Matic (set your responses to ALL privacy/cookie pop-ups in the extension, and it will answer all pop-ups for you. I can see reasons to not use it, but I appreciate it) - Facebook Container ("contains" Meta on Facebook and Instagram pages to keep it from tracking you or getting third party cookies, since Meta is fairly egregious about it) - Redirect Amp to HTML (AMP is designed for mobile phones, this forces pages to go to their HTML version) - A WebP/AVIF image converter - uBlock Origin and uBlacklist, with the AI blacklist loaded in to kill any generative AI results from appearing in search engines or anywhere.

Handbrake for ripping DVDs— I haven’t used this in awhile as I haven’t been making video edits. I used this back when I had a Mac OS

VLC Media Player (ol’ reliable)

Unsplash & Pexels for free-to-use images

A password manager (these often are paid. I use Dashlane. There are many options, feel free to search around and ask for recs!). There is a lot that goes into cybersecurity— find the option you feel is best for you.

Things I suggest:

Understanding Royalty Free and the Creative Commons licenses

Familiarity with boolean operators for searching

Investing in a backup drive and external drive

A few good USBs, including one that has a backup of your OS on it

Adapter cables

Avoiding Fandom “wikias” (as in the brand “Fandom”) and supporting other, fan-run or supported wikis. Consider contributing if its something you find yourself passionate or joyful about.

Finding Forums for the things you like, or creating your own*

Create an email specifically for ads/shopping— use it to receive all promotional emails to keep your inbox clean. Upkeep it.

Stop putting so much of your personal information online— be willing to separate your personal online identity from your “online identity”. You don’t owe people your name, location, pronouns, diagnoses, or any of that. It’s your choice, but be discerning in what you give and why. I recommend avoiding providing your phone number to sites as much as possible.

Be intentional

Ask questions

Talk to people

Remember that you can lurk all you want

Things that are fun to check out:

BBSes-- here's a portal to access them.

Neocities

*Forums-- find some to join, or maybe host your own? The system I was most familiar with was vbulletin.

MMM.page

Things that have worked well for me but might work for you, YMMV:

Limit your app usage time on your smartphone if you’re prone to going back to them— this is a tangible way to “practice mindfulness”, a term I find frustratingly vague ansjdbdj

Things I’m looking into:

The “Pi Hole”— a raspberry pi set up to block all ads on a specific internet connection

VPNs-- this is one that was recommended to me.

How to use computers (I mean it): Resources on how to understand your machine and what you’re doing, even if your skill and knowledge level is currently 0:

This section I'll come back an add to. I know that messing with computers can be intimidating, especially if you feel out of your depth. HTML and regedits and especially things like dualbooting or linux feel impossible. So I want to put things here that explain exactly how the internet and your computer functions, and how you can learn and work with that. Yippee!

[dissapointu]

hiii can i request a fic of the reader having a crush on viktor but theyre too dense to realize that viktor reciprocates the feelings so they try setting him up with someone but viktor only wants them? <3

“Just a bit Dense” (viktor x reader)

You had always been the kind of person who focused on fixing others rather than yourself. Whether it was patching up bruises or tweaking machines, you were always the one in the background, quietly doing what you could. Viktor, however, was the one constant in your life, the one person whose intelligence and determination captivated you. He was kind, brilliant, and compassionate, and he had always taken the time to notice the small things about you.

But you didn’t see it. You were too thick-headed to realize Viktor’s subtle glances, the small touches that lingered just a bit too long, or the way he leaned toward you during conversations. You were too busy convincing yourself that you were just friends—just colleagues. That’s what you told yourself every time your heart fluttered at his smile, or when your face grew warm after a few too many innocent exchanges.

You noticed, of course, the way others seemed to admire Viktor too. His brilliance, his charm—how could anyone not? And that’s why you had a plan, an idea that had been brewing for weeks: if Viktor was going to be swept off his feet by someone, it might as well be someone who would appreciate him like he deserved.

So, you decided to play matchmaker.

One evening, while you two were working late in the lab, you casually mentioned someone you’d been thinking about. “You know, Viktor, I met someone today,” you said, carefully watching his reaction. “They’re really nice, and I think you’d get along great.”

Viktor paused, his pen still in hand, his attention fully on you. “Is that so?” His voice was soft, almost amused. “And who might this person be?”

You described them, knowing full well Viktor wasn’t quite as perceptive about relationships as you were. “They’ve got this brilliant mind, and they share so many of your interests. I think you two would make a perfect pair.”

Viktor set his pen down and looked at you, his eyes sharp with an intensity you didn’t understand. “I see.” There was a moment of silence as he watched you, and you couldn’t help but shift under his gaze. “But… what if I’m not interested in them?”

You froze, blinking. “Oh, come on, Viktor, don’t be shy. You’re a great catch. They’re a great catch. I’m just trying to make sure you’re happy.” You laughed nervously, your heart racing as you shifted in your seat. You weren’t sure what to expect, but Viktor’s reaction didn’t seem to match the excitement you’d imagined.

He leaned back in his chair, his hands folding together, his lips curling into a faint smile. “You’re quite the matchmaker, aren’t you?” He leaned in a little closer. “But the thing is… I’m not interested in anyone else.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

Viktor’s smile softened, and for the first time that night, you saw something in his gaze that you had never noticed before—something almost shy, but incredibly sincere. “I’m only interested in you,” he said quietly, his voice steady despite the warmth that spread across your cheeks.

You blinked a few times, your mind racing. “Wait, what? Me?” You couldn’t fathom what he meant. “But… I’m just your friend, Viktor…”

He shook his head slowly, leaning forward now with a hint of vulnerability that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re more than that to me. I’ve been trying to show you for some time, but… you seem to be rather dense about it.”

You were caught off guard. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. All the times he’d touched your arm, the gentle conversations late into the night, the way his eyes lingered on you—it all clicked in your head like a jigsaw puzzle finally coming together.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out, and Viktor chuckled softly, reaching out to gently brush your cheek with his fingertips. “It’s alright, my dear. I know it’s a lot to process. But I’m not looking for anyone else. Just you.”

Your mind raced, but your heart… your heart was already telling you what you wanted, even if your brain was still catching up. You bit your lip, feeling like an idiot for not realizing sooner. “I’m sorry, Viktor. I didn’t… I didn’t realize…”

Viktor smiled, a mixture of amusement and warmth in his eyes. “It’s alright. I’ll give you some time to process it.” He pulled back slightly, but not entirely, his gaze still focused on you with an intensity that made your heart flutter. “Just know that I’m not going anywhere.”

The weight of his words settled in, and you finally allowed yourself to breathe again. Maybe you were a bit dense, but with Viktor, you knew you were safe to be a little slow to realize the obvious. And in that moment, it felt like the world was finally in place.

Viktor had always been the one who patiently pieced things together—his machines, his plans, and now, maybe… your heart.

[shanastoryteller]

Dean’s minding his own business, sipping on a beer and leering at the bartender, when a guy that admittedly has about four inches and a good twenty pounds of muscle on him storms over and shoves him in the arm.

He tenses, getting to his feet and preparing for a fight even as he’s wondering what he did to piss him off. Maybe the bartender’s his girl? Jesus, Dean was just looking, he can’t get mad at just looking when his girl look likes that.

“Dude, what the hell?” the guy demands. “I know you’re pissed at me right now, but just leaving me back there – do you know how many bars it took to find you? You’re a jackass.”

He’s not taking a swing, instead standing with crossed arms – fuck, this guy is huge, he’d really like to avoid a fight here – and scowling at him, his long hair falling into his eyes as he looks down at him. Dean wishes he had any idea what was going on right now. “Look, man, relax.” The guy’s eyes narrow, his shoulders lifting and expanding as he takes in a deep breath, as if he needs any help to look bigger. Before he can say anything, Dean adds, “I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Fuck off.” He presses his lips together, somehow appearing smaller in the next moment without actually moving. “Look, I know you’re mad about heaven, you’ve made that pretty fucking clear, but you can’t just walk off and turn off your phone. I figured you were just being an ass, but something could have happened to you. If you’re ignoring me, at least let me know you’re ignoring me.”

The guy doesn’t look like he’s tweaking, or suffering some sort of head injury. His eyes are clear and his voice is steady. But Dean has no idea what he’s talking about. “Dude, you’ve really got me confused with someone else.”

“Dean!” he snaps, which woah, okay, he wasn’t expecting that. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing,” he says. “How do you know my name?”

He stares at him, uncertainty entering his eyes for the first time. “Are you feeling okay? You didn’t come across Zachariah or a witch or something in the past couple hours?”

He doesn’t know who Zachariah is, but the casual mention of witches makes him frown. Is this guy a hunter or something? He figures he’d remember meeting him, but maybe not.

“Everything okay over here?” Dad’s hand lands heavily on his shoulder, and Dean shifts enough to see him giving the guy a hard stare that has sent more than one man running in the other direction.

Dean almost rolls his eyes – he’s thirty one years old, he doesn’t need his dad coming over to save him – but he makes the effort so rarely that Dean can’t help but be warmed by it.

The guy pales, mouth dropping open as he stares at Dad like he’s seen a ghost. “You – Christo.”

Okay, definitely a hunter. Dad raises an eyebrow. “I’m not a demon.”

The guy grabs for Dean, yanking on his hand. Dean jerks back, but he’s already gotten his long fingers around his ring. He pulls it off and Dean is about to break his jaw to get it back, but he tosses it to Dad, who catches it on instinct. Dean doesn’t get it until he does. His ring is silver. He’s checking if Dad is a shifter, which okay, that’s one thing. Dean’s more concerned about how he knows his ring is silver. The guy’s voice cracks when he says, “Dad?”

Dad raises an eyebrow. “I think you’re a little confused.”

“Dean, what’s going on?” he asks, grabbing onto the sleeve of his jacket. Dean should push him off. “What,” his gaze drops down, and if possible he goes even paler. “Oh. Oh, fuck.”

Dean looks down, sees the guy’s eyes stuck on his amulet. “What?”

“I don’t understand,” he says, biting on his lower lip. “Is this some sort of – but you’re still hunters. Is Mom alive?”

Dean flinches.

“Okay,” Dad says. “That’s enough. You walk this off or whatever, but you do it somewhere else–”

“Dad, it’s me,” he says plaintively. “It’s Sam. Your son.”

Dean doesn’t remember moving, only that the next moment his hands are fisted in the front of this asshole’s shirt, his blood thrumming under his skin. “Shut up. Shut the fuck up.”

He puts his hands on Dean’s wrists, stupid earnest and soft and Dean’s going to kick his ass. “Dean. It’s me. I have to exist in this world, right? The demon was after me, if I wasn’t here then there wouldn’t have ben a fire, Mom wouldn’t have died, you guys wouldn’t be hunters. I have to be around somewhere.”

Dean tries to shove him away, but he won’t let go of his hands. “Shut up! You don’t – don’t talk about my family.”

The worst thing he ever did, his biggest failure. Sometimes the weight of it gets to be so heavy that it feels like it should be cracking his ribs, pressing his heart until it bursts. Sometimes he wishes it would.

He swallows before letting go with one hand and reaching into his pocket to pull something out. It takes Dean a moment to see it’s his amulet, the one he’s worn since he was twelve years old, back when Bobby still talked to them. “My name is Samuel Winchester. I was named after my mother’s father. I was born on May 2, 1983. When I was eight years old, Bobby gave me this amulet. He said it was a protection charm. I was originally planning to give it to Dad for Christmas, but he didn’t show up. Another in a long line of disappointments, right? So I gave it to you instead. Because even when you’re being a jerk, you’ve never let me down.”

Dean’s eyes are burning. He tries to shake off his grip, but he won’t let go. Why is Dad just standing there? “Stop! Stop. I don’t know what game you’re playing–”

“No game,” he says, gentle voice a counterpoint to the grip that’s absolutely going to bruise. “I need you to believe me, Dean, please–”

“My brother died when he was six months old,” he cuts him off. “Samuel Winchester is dead. He’s been dead for twenty six years.”

His fault, his fault, all his fault. If he’d just listened to Dad –

“Not where I’m from,” he says, and it’s crazy, it’s all crazy. “Please. Ask me anything. I’ll prove it. Hell, let’s go to a clinic, we can take a DNA test. I’m Sam. I’m your brother. And I need your help.”

“You mentioned a demon,” Dad says quietly.

The guy, who’s not Sam, who can’t be Sam, tears his eyes away from Dean to look at Dad. “Yeah. Azazel. The yellow eyed demon.”

Dad rubs a hand over his mouth. “I never told anyone about that.”

Dean snaps his head towards Dad. “What? You said you didn’t know what killed Mom! That we were searching for it!”

“We are,” Dad says. “It never resurfaced again. I’ve been looking for the signs.”

The guy frowns. “He started up again when I was twenty two.”

“Not here,” Dad says, looking him up and down, something hungry in his eyes.

Dad believes him. Dad thinks that this is Sammy.

“Let’s discuss this back at the room,” Dad says. “Come on.”

He heads towards the door, sure that he’s going to be followed. The – Sam, maybe Sam, he rolls his eyes, but goes after him. He only stops when his grip on Dean’s wrist jerks him back, because Dean’s not moving, can’t make himself move. He flushes, letting go of Dean finally, but he takes a step closer. His eyebrows pull together in concern, and now that Dean’s looking, he sort of sees it, sees the planes of Dad’s face and his eyes in this stranger with his brother’s name. “Hey, are you okay?”

No.

“Let’s go,” he says, striding forward, shoulders hunched.

Sam falls into step beside him easily, matching his strides like it’s second nature. Dean swallows around the lump in his throat and tries to pretend it means nothing.

[cxrrodedcoffin]

☆ 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐮𝐧 ☆

Vigilante Older!Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader (Part 1/3)

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠!

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬 @bloodibambiidoll @babygorewhore 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡!! ໒꒰ྀི˶˃ᆺ˂˶ ꒱ྀིა ᯓᡣ𐭩

𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝♡

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dom!rafe, older!rafe, age gap (rafe’s mid 40’s, reader is mid 20’s), established relationship, murder, mentions of past abuse, mentions of missing persons & kidnapping, handcuffs, condescension, praise, reader isn’t a virgin but experiences a couple firsts, daddy kink, breast play, oral sex fem receiving, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, doggy style, overstimulation, squirting, pet names (doll, baby, babydoll, princess, sugar), rafe’s a smartass with a heart of gold, he talks you through it

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.8k

Rafe Cameron was your neighbor. That’s all he was ever supposed to be, but three weeks ago when he broke down your front door after hearing your pained screams echoing down the secluded street, everything changed. He held no hesitation in beating your abusive boyfriend to a bloody pulp, and by the time you had regained awareness of your surroundings, Rafe was dragging you out of the house, leaving your boyfriend’s lifeless body to rot in the house you once called home.

You’d had your flirtations in the past, in fact, that’s what you and your boyfriend had been arguing about before he tried to kill you that night. He saw the way you looked at Rafe, knew you had a crush on him, and his brain made the jump that you must have been sleeping with him. It’s not like you hadn’t thought about it back when you were single, he was classically handsome, but he was also twenty years your senior, and you surely would’ve been the talk of figure eight if the two of you had actually started seeing each other, so you’d resigned yourself of that idea a long time ago.

When Rafe took your hand and dragged you behind him out of that house you didn’t have any urge to try and run from him, it was like you knew he was doing what was best for the both of you. You followed behind him the entire time he spent scrambling to gather things around his house, packing up the most important parts of his private life inside an old duffel bag and pulling several large stacks of cash out of his safe before running with you in tow to the body shop down the road to hotwire the most inconspicuous car there. You were ready to go, to leave your mundane life behind if it meant being with him like you’d spent many sleepless nights fantasizing about.

There were many pressing issues at hand, tasks that needed to be completed to ensure you wouldn’t be caught. You needed aliases, a story to cover your tracks as you drove cross country to evade arrest, and what Rafe suggested after hours of contemplation made your heart skip a beat.

“If anyone asks what we’re doing on the road, I’m your dad, and we’re going to visit family, got that?” His left hand held strong atop the steering wheel, the strength of his grip making the veins in his forearm particularly prominent in that moment. You swallowed, eyes wide as he took his eyes off of the road for a split second to see you slowly nodding your head in understanding.

“Like anyone’s going to believe I’m your kid.” You joked, your voice cracking despite your efforts to disguise how flustered the thought of calling him dad made you.

“Believe it or not babydoll, I am actually old enough to be your dad. I doubt anyone will think it's that far-fetched of an idea.”

“We don’t even look alike.” You scoffed, turning to watch the expanse of technicolor trees climbing the mountain side directly out your window.

“No one’s gonna be paying attention to our family resemblance if we stay under the radar, just keep your pretty mouth shut and you won’t have to worry about it.”

That thought was the only one you could conjure for the next two hours on the road until Rafe pulled into the parking lot of a seedy old motel so the two of you could get some much needed rest. He had to go out for gas and to buy a change of clothes for you and him at the truck stop down the road the next morning, shaking you out of your slumber to drag you to the closet and handcuff you to the hanger rod in the small closet.

“Now don’t think I don’t trust you babydoll, I do, but these are an insurance policy in case that silly little mind of yours decides to go all rational on me, understand?” He locked the first cuff around your wrist before looping the chain over the bar and securing your other one, leaving you to struggle against the metal.

“C’mon Dad, just take me with you.” You teasingly pleaded, pushing your chest out as you tried to take a step toward him.

“Can’t, it’ll look suspicious if we’re with each other all the time. You have to stay here and I gotta get this done so we can get back on the road. I’ll be back in twenty minutes tops.” He left you there, slamming the motel room door behind him as a silent threat to be good. You did, staying in place and stirring over how you could manage to take this whole dad thing further to push Rafe’s buttons as much as you could. You were getting bored. As much fun as running from the law was, the miles of highway and generic gas stations and fast food places were starting to meld together into one monotonous blob in your head, and you wanted some good old fashioned entertainment. You made a plan, figuring you’d slowly execute it over the next few days.

The next thing on your fugitive checklist was a change in appearance. You dyed and cut your hair in a truck stop bathroom after a couple days of driving, knowing your face and signature long locks were likely all over broadcast television at that point. Rafe, on the other hand, wasn’t too keen on the idea of chopping off his beloved mullet. He’d grown accustomed to it, spent twenty years perfecting the length and cut to his liking, but he knew he had to part ways with it if it meant keeping you. He hadn’t had a buzz cut in decades, not since his early twenties, and he wasn’t sure how it would suit his more mature features, but your words of encouragement gave him the push he needed to grab the electric clippers and head for a mirror.

When he finally walked out of that old motel bathroom, you had to bite back a moan. He was hot before, no doubt about it, but with the buzzcut? You wondered what it would be like to feel that peach fuzz against your palms as you pushed his face further into your pussy.

“Thoughts?” He studied the look on your face, that glint of something desperate in your eyes as the corners of your mouth pulled into a soft smile.

“I love it! Very dilf of you.” You beamed, giggling to yourself while shifting to your knees on the creaky old motel bed as he closed the space between you.

“You realize you just implied you want to fuck me, right?” He folded his arms over his chest, toned biceps framing firm pecs and you had to swallow back a groan at the sight.

“I know exactly what I was implying, Dad.” You pulled him closer by the bottom of his shirt, the look of amusement on his stubbled face only emboldening you further.

He stood at the side of the bed, looking down at you as your hands found the back of his neck, rubbing over the soft patch of hair at the nape just to feel the velvety smooth texture for a moment. The sound of the nightly news droning on the television across the room quickly became drowned out by the white noise of both of your bated breaths. You couldn’t take it anymore, all the stolen glances and unspoken tension. You needed him, now.

“Rafe, please.” The words came out like a whine, more needy than you’d intended.

“Please, what?” He cocked his head to the side, the corners of his lips pulling into an inquisitive smirk.

“You know what.” Your hands moved over his shoulders and down to his chest, fingertips ghosting over his shirt.

“I need to hear you ask for it. I’ve made a lot of fucked up choices in my life and my morals may not be that sound but I do have some that I won’t compromise on. I need to know I’m not taking advantage of you.” He took your wrists in his hands, stalling your movements until you made eye contact with him.

“I may be young but I know what I want, Rafe. I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I moved in next to you.” He wasn’t exactly surprised by your bluntness, but hearing those words in your angelic voice still threatened to knock the wind out of him.

“Fuck, baby, you’re breaking my heart here. You know how many times I fought the urge to knock on your door and just flat out ask to taste your sweet pussy?” He dropped your wrists, instinctively going to run his right hand through his hair only to be reminded he’d just buzzed it all for you.

“God, Rafe, I wish you would’ve, we could’ve avoided this whole thing.” You sighed, hands returning to his chest as you looked almost painfully into his tired eyes. There was so much built up energy between the two of you, emotional and sexual, and as a tear slipped down your cheek, all Rafe could think about was how pretty you’d look crying with his cock in your mouth.

“If we were still back in Kildare I’d be showing you off all over town, making every one of those little frat boy assholes jealous with you on my arm.” His tone dipped an octave as his rough hand met your cheek, brushing the tear away. His eyes bore into yours until you looked down to his chest to hide your flattered blush.

“I’ve wanted to pull the goddamn car over and pound you into the backseat on the side of the highway for three weeks.” He exhaled as he spoke and something broke inside of you, a chain snapping to let you finally crash your lips against his. It was crushing, all plush lips and slipping tongues, small gasps for air as your hands groped at one another, pulling at fabric until you’d both managed to discard your shirts.

“You’ve really been hiding these from me this whole time, sugar?” He sighed, large hands groping your breasts over your thin lace bralette.

“I wasn’t hiding anything, it’s not my fault I’ve been living in baggy truck stop shirts for weeks.” You shot back, arching into his touch despite your attitude.

“Didn’t know you had slutty little things like this on underneath ‘em.” He snapped the thin strap against your shoulder, taking note of the way you mewled in response to the short sting the action caused.

“I don’t want to talk anymore Rafe, just fuck me, please.” You whined, your hands haphazardly undoing his belt to allow his worn jeans to fall to the ground.

“That’s not how I do things, babydoll. We’re gonna talk until I say otherwise.“ He paused his movements for a moment, looking into your eyes and it took everything in you not to avert your gaze. You didn’t know why you suddenly felt so intimidated by him, you’d been firing back snarky remarks at him for weeks, what was turning you into this shy thing all of a sudden?

You just nodded, eager for him to keep going. He hesitated, narrowing his eyes for a moment before resigning to continuing his efforts to pull your bralette over your head, finally fully exposing your breasts. He flashed you a smile before pressing a kiss to your lips, gentle at first before devolving into something more hungry, his teeth grazing over your bottom lip as he made his way down to your neck. Your hands found their way to his hips, palming his half-hard cock through his briefs and the low groan that grumbled up from his chest made you reach for the waistband. His hands wrapped around your wrists, halting your movements as he pulled away from your neck, his face only a few inches from yours.

“Slow down, doll. I’m not losing out on the opportunity to see what makes you tick just because you’re impatient.” He chided, holding your wrists together with one hand while he opened the bedside table drawer to search for something.

“I thought guys didn’t like this foreplay stuff.” You sighed, trying to see what he was reaching for.

“That what your little boyfriend told you?” He pulled the handcuffs from the other day out of the drawer, clicking one cuff around your left wrist before moving your arms behind you, securing your right wrist in the remaining cuff.

”You’re gonna learn real fast how good this ‘foreplay shit’ can be for the both of us. I’m going to talk you through every last thing I do and you’re going to tell me exactly how it makes you feel.” The look on his face was serious, not a hint of insincerity in sight, and yet, you couldn’t quite believe what was being demanded of you.

“You want to hear me?” You clarified, the innocence and underlying hurt in your voice almost sending Rafe into another blind rage over how your boyfriend had been treating you before he took care of him.

“I need to, that pretty voice is what keeps me going every day.” Rafe wasn’t usually so sappy, that snarky attitude of his running rampant for as long as you had known him, but there was something about the softness you held underneath that opinionated exterior that made him want to be soft with you. You could go toe to toe with him in sarcasm any day, but he wanted to meet you in that softness you didn’t show very often. He continued his position at the curve of your jaw, leaving open mouthed kisses across your skin that made it feel like he would devour you whole if given the opportunity.

“You’re purring like a kitten and I’ve barely touched you.” You could feel his smirk against your skin along with the cockiness in his tone and as much as you wanted to retaliate, put him in his place, you couldn’t find the words. He was impossibly good, each nip and suck of his lips and teeth down the column of your neck drawing quickened breath and needy whimpers from your kiss-bitten lips.

He continued the trail down to your collarbone, ghosting his lips over your skin as his hand splayed out over your stomach, gently pushing until you took the hint and laid back on the bed. You could feel your cuffed hands digging into you, repositioning them to sit in the curve of your lower back, the slight discomfort quickly falling to the wayside as Rafe’s mouth returned to your chest, plush lips wrapping around your right nipple. His fingers found the left, brushing rough fingertips over your sensitive bud as he sucked softly, movements working in tandem to draw as much sound from you as possible.

You stretched your legs, thighs absentmindedly spreading to allow him space to slot his toned thigh between them as he continued to shower your breasts with attention, marking your skin with bruising kisses and tweaking your nipples until you couldn’t help but moan his name.

“So sensitive babydoll, you like when daddy plays with your tits?” He pulled away from your chest, shifting so his face was above yours, his pupils blown with desire as he took in the sight of you all worked up for the first time.

“Mhm.” Your face flushed at the bluntness, his confidence and curiosity such an interesting change of pace from the men you’d been with before.

“Speak up.” His playful tone turned serious again, his hands moving to your hips as he pulled your hips to the end of the bed, your clothed cunt pressed against the thick of his bare thigh. You gasped as he flexed the muscles in his thigh, rocking against your aching clit through your increasingly wet panties.

“I’m not him, princess. Let me hear you.” He gently gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him as he brought his movements to a halt, watching your face drop in disappointment from the lack of friction.

“I didn’t know it could feel like this, I love it, Rafe.” Your voice held a slight tremble as you forced yourself to share your thoughts, still so unfamiliar with the notion that a man could want to know how you’re feeling.

“God am I glad I killed that piece of shit. He didn’t fuckin’ deserve you.” He sighed, a hint of pride lacing his low tone as he ran his hands over your sides, feeling every curve of your body as he slowly dropped to his knees beside the bed. He slid his hands over your hips beneath the fabric of your underwear, pulling the thin cotton slowly down your legs.

“Look at me.” He waited for you to carefully prop yourself up on your elbows, the cuffs digging into your wrists from the angle. His eyes held your gaze in an almost intimidating stare, his hands moving to rest on your thighs.

“You ever had your pussy eaten baby?” His question caught you off guard despite how obvious it seemed given his current position, and you were sure he already knew the answer from the look on your face.

“N-no, every guy I’ve been with said it was gross.” As soon as the statement hit Rafe’s ears he could feel that anger rise to another level, the need to make you forget about every shitty guy you’d been with stronger than ever.

“Where are you finding these assholes? I’ll kill the rest of them too, just say the word.” His tone was lighthearted but you knew from the look on his face that he was the furthest thing from joking. You laughed him off, your attention pulling to his hands finally pushing your thighs apart, making space for him to slot his broad shoulders between your legs.

“Rafe, you don’t have to.” You tried to pull your legs together but to no avail, the action only spurring him on. He hooked his hands underneath your thighs, pushing your knees up to your chest to give him full access to your cunt.

“No shit, I want to. Need you to keep your eyes on me so you can see how much I’m enjoying tasting your sweet pussy.” He locked eyes with you as he dipped his head lower, watching the way your brow furrowed and a soft gasp left your lips when he gave the first drag of his tongue through your folds. He smiled briefly before diving back in, lapping hungrily at your dripping entrance before sucking softly at your clit, the way your thighs tensed under his grip a physical indication of how much you were enjoying it.

He glanced up at you, watching the way your bottom lip quivered with every whimper and moan of his name in response to his tongue expertly flicking over your clit. His right hand slowly slid down from your thigh, his pointer and middle finger prodding teasingly at your entrance before sinking into your wet heat, the new sensation making you buck your hips against him. He pumped steadily in and out of you, massaging your walls with each flex of his fingers as he pulled his mouth off of you.

“How does it feel babydoll? Everything you hoped it would be?” He smirked at you and you had to fight the urge to laugh at the almost ridiculous question. You knew he knew how good he was making you feel, and yet he still wanted you to stroke his ego. He sure was living up to the reputation he held back on Kildare, that’s for sure.

“Yes, fuck, it’s so good, just keep going, please.” You sighed in frustration, desperate to have his mouth on you again. He had the nerve to laugh, but you couldn’t find it in you to call him out on it, just relieved to see him lowering his head back down to your cunt.

He wasted no time, flicking over your clit at an impossibly quick pace, his fingers curling up to hit that soft spot inside of you until you were throwing your head back, barely able to support yourself anymore as your elbows gave out behind you, falling back against the mattress as your thighs began to tremble. He wrapped his lips around your clit, humming in satisfaction as he felt your walls clamp down around his fingers, the sound of his name falling from your lips in a desperate cry like music to his ears.

He continued lapping gently at your cunt, working you through your orgasm until he could slowly slip his fingers from you, his digits coated in your cum. He waited for you to catch your breath, taking a moment to recover before propping yourself back up on your elbows, looking down at him through half lidded eyes. As soon as your eyes met his he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking your slick off of them slowly, savoring the taste. Your lips parted in a small gasp, barely even audible, seeing him enjoy going down on you just as much as you had enjoyed it.

He rose to his feet, putting his erection right at your eye level and your small gasp turned into something much more substantial, the sound drawing Rafe’s attention.

“Did that really turn you on that much?” You squeaked out, your voice much more unsteady than you intended it to be.

“I told you it would be good for both of us, I don’t lie about shit like that.” He took a step toward the edge of the bed, His thumbs slipping into the waistband of his underwear before pulling it down, his weighty cock slapping against his thigh as he did so. You bit your lip, watching him wrap his hand around the base of his shaft before tapping the tip against your sensitive clit, the action sending a jolt of pleasure straight to the coil in the pit of your stomach. He rubbed his shaft through your folds, coating himself in your wetness as he watched your expression change from confusion to curiosity to desperation.

“Feel that? It’s all for you, babydoll.” He leaned forward, his face only a few inches above yours as he continued rubbing himself against your cunt, teasingly brushing over your clit in a way that had you squirming and silently begging for more.

“What, baby? What do you need?” He asked, feigning ignorance to what he knew he was doing to you. This was the longest any of your sexual encounters had lasted and he wasn’t even inside of you yet.

“Need you inside of me, please.” You whined, trying to shift your hips to position him lower. He took hold of your hips, stopping your efforts before abruptly flipping you onto your stomach in the middle of the bed, your head almost hanging off the end. You felt the mattress shift under his weight as he positioned himself behind you, pulling your hips up to meet his so you were kneeling before him. Your cuffed wrists made it impossible for you to lift your upper half without assistance, your face and breasts resting against the mattress with your cunt on full display.

“Bet your shitty little boyfriends never showed you how to do anything other than missionary, that right?” You whimpered out a soft “yeah” as you pushed your hips back, feeling his head bump your entrance for a moment before he pushed fully into you, slow enough to allow you to get used to the angle but not torturously slow. He was over playing games now, all he wanted was to show you what you’d been missing with every man who wasn’t him. Your eyes rolled back, the unfamiliar angle stimulating your sensitive walls in ways you’d never experienced before. He steadily increased his pace, his balls slapping against your clit with every slam of his hips, that familiar pressure building impossibly quickly.

“Who’s that pretty girl on the tv? She looks awfully familiar.” His voice pulled your attention away from your impending orgasm for just a moment just as he took hold of the handcuffs and pulled your arms back, putting the tv right in your line of sight. The image that flashed before you made your stomach flip, a group of three photos of you with your physical traits and last known whereabouts listed beside them as the news anchor read off a teleprompter, “Nationwide search for missing Kildare, North Carolina woman continues as police expand their search into three new states.”

Your eyes glossed over, the sight all too surreal and the feeling of his cock hitting places so deep inside of you that you weren’t even sure they existed before this very moment too much as every nerve ending in your body erupted in euphoria, the strained cry of pleasure that ripped from your throat almost drowning out the news broadcast.

“You like seeing your missing poster plastered everywhere? Want everyone to know I own you now?” He teased, continuing to fuck into you as you mumbled incoherently in response, too fucked out to form a proper response.

“Listen to that, they’re saying I kidnapped you, callin’ me a monster. If only they could see how good I’m making you feel right now babydoll, how good your daddy’s making you feel.” His words pierced through your post orgasm haze, pressure starting to build in your tummy again.

“Oh my god, daddy, it’s too much, I can’t, please!” You begged, overwhelmed by the pleasure still coursing through your body as he brought you closer and closer to another orgasm with every thrust, his remarks only spurring you on.

“I know you can baby, your pussy’s gripping me like a vice.” He laughed again, but you could feel his hips starting to falter, his thrusts becoming sloppy, he had to be just as close as you were.

“Fuck, who’s your daddy, baby?” He groaned, watching the way your ass reverberated back against him with every thrust.

“You are!” You moaned, so close to the edge.

“Say it.” He commanded, a darkness present in his tone that hadn't been there before.

“You are, Rafe, you’re my daddy!” You cried out, a white heat unlike anything you’d ever felt before rushing through you as you felt a warmth gush from your cunt, your body going limp against him, his grip on your hip and the cuffs being the only things to keep you from completely collapsing into the mattress.

You barely registered him pulling out of you and cumming on your ass, the warmth of the white stickiness dripping down into your folds being one of the only things able to draw you back to reality.

“You ever done that before?” His voice sounded miles away, your ears still ringing from your release.

“Done what?” You asked sleepily, turning your head to look at him. When you saw the liquid dripping down his lower stomach and thighs onto the wet spot on the bed, your eyes went wide, trying to scramble to your knees the best you could with your wrists still cuffed.

“Oh my god, no, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry!” The panic in your voice startled him, but that quickly turned to anger as he thought about what your shitty exes had done to you to make you feel like you needed to apologize for something so natural.

“Hey, hey, calm down.” He soothed you the best he could, grabbing the key to the cuffs and undoing them as he rubbed the red marks on your wrists to ground you.

“You’re not mad?” You asked, blinking back the tears that had gathered in your waterline.

“God, no. I’m gonna be making you squirt all the time now that I know you can.” He laughed, trying to lighten the mood again. You smiled, and his anger quelled. He had to remind himself that those assholes were in your rear view, he was your future. That’s all that mattered.

“What about the sheets?” You asked, standing from the bed to pull the wet linens off of the mattress, bunching them up in a pile in the corner of the room.

“I’ll just go ask for new ones at the front office, you go hop in the shower and I’ll join you when I get back.” He reassured, kissing you on the forehead and using the loose sheets to dry off his stomach before reaching for his scattered articles of clothing to get dressed to run to the office.

—

tagging: @starkeysprincess @rafesfawn @eddiesxangel @theeternaloptimistt @drewscoquette @rafesangelita @rafelust @bunbun-3 @poopiefartz @coquettebiatch @lilbunnyorwhatever @alejstarkey

please message me if you’d like to be untagged <3

[millysastroblog]

Random Astro Theory’s

🔭I have a theory that Saturn's influence on relationships doesn’t necessarily mean someone will marry later; in fact, it could indicate the opposite. In the charts of some people I know, I’ve observed that when Saturn is in Cancer aspecting Venus or in the 7th house, there tends to be a strong focus on long-term, serious relationships that can lead to marriage. These individuals prioritize stable, equal partnerships, and while they might be late bloomers, once the time is right, they are committed for real. This could also apply to someone with a Venus-Jupiter aspect in Cancer or Cancer in the 7th house, who might even experience family-arranged marriages or similar situations."

🔭Plutonic Synastry/Composite isn’t about love in the way we typically think of it—it’s about transformation through intensity. It's like entering a vortex that forces you to confront the deepest parts of yourself. This connection is a catalyst for deep inner work. You get caught in this whirlwind, feeling that intoxicating rush of what seems like love, but it’s really more of a temporary trap that pushes you to face everything you’ve been avoiding. It’s like a snake that slides unnoticed through your at first, suddenly strikes with a sharp, unexpected bite. The sting feels like betrayal—like you’ve been deceived or hurt, and the trust you once had is shattered. But that venom coursing through your veins? Its something that you needed, even if it feels like it’s killing you in the moment. The poison is your awakening, forcing you to face your deepest fears and wounds.The process is messy and painful. It’s like being in a pressure-cooked cocoon, where the heat of it all brings everything to the surface. All the things you didn’t want to deal with fear, trauma, insecurities come pouring out. But once it’s all released, you are left with a new self, one that’s been purged, cleansed, and rebuilt from the ashes. You come out stronger, more self-aware, and ready to take on the world, like a butterfly emerging from the cocoon. 🦋🦋🦋

🔭I feel like Gemini and Pisces are similar in the way they’re often disliked or called "flip-floppy" or "fake" due to how broad, diverse, and unrestricted their worlds are. For Gemini, ruled by the twins, they don’t just have one way of doing things; it’s always split into multiple opinions, perspectives, and options. Whether it’s the information they share, the people in their lives, or even their choices in food, clothes, or money, they will figure things out in different ways. It’s easy for them to get bored and restless if something doesn’t stimulate their mind or offer something new, which is why they can quickly drop things, change their minds, or shift their personalities. So, if a Gemini flips on you, it’s usually because they’re bored.

As for Pisces they often don’t know themselves fully they just know that their reality is more fantasy, where they can take different forms, shape-shift, and be whoever they want. Because of their vivid imagination and deep sensitivity, they easily adapt to their environment, people, or situations, but often only if it serves their so-called limerence or false reality. Once that illusion is cracked and no longer meets their expectations, they can easily disengage or withdraw."

🔭Venus conjunct Chiron is a placement that gives someone a pure heart and soul when it comes to relationships and connections. These individuals have a unique way of accepting, nurturing, and understanding others in a meaningful, deep way. They’ve been hurt and betrayed many times, often feeling inferior. Most of the time, they've gone through a difficult, painful phase in life, only to suddenly transform into something beautiful, like a swan emerging from the struggle. They are often misunderstood and incredibly adorable, yet carry an air of quiet strength. People with this placement tend to crave love but often feel unworthy of it, which can lead them to attract unbalanced or unequal relationships. Despite the hardship and challenges they face, they possess an incredible capacity for forgiveness and empathy for others. There's a special allure or charm they exude that effortlessly draws people in. Over time, their biggest lesson will be to learn to value themselves first, to feel whole without relying on external validation whether that’s money, beauty, or luxury so that they can attract the right kind of people into their lives. In doing so, they also teach others how to do the same.

🔭Chiron doesn’t necessarily mean that you will suffer in one specific area of life forever. Since Chiron orbits between Saturn and Uranus, it takes on qualities from both planets. Saturn is about longevity, hard work, and the lessons we learn through persistence. As such, Chiron's energy can be challenging, especially in the beginning. It brings harsh and painful lessons that are meant to help us grow as individuals. However, the pain and suffering tend to lessen over time as we gain wisdom, knowledge, and maturity traits associated with Saturn. If someone doesn’t reach a certain level of enlightenment or growth, the cycle can repeat in the same, difficult way, as Saturn teaches us that growth comes through effort and time. But just like in the example above, there’s the potential for a breakthrough with every Chiron placement. These breakthroughs can be sudden and drastic, unlocking an evolution in our consciousness and allowing us to integrate healing in this life.

🔭The Midheaven (MC) shows how people perceive you when they first meet you, not how they view you over time. The 10th house, which contains the MC, is the highest point in the birth chart. Initially, people will see the energy of your MC placement, but as they get to know you better, they can start to appreciate the traits of your 1st house, Ascendant, or Sun sign.

Example: I have Capricorn on my 10th house/MC, conjunct Mars, opposite Saturn.

The Comments: "You look mean, you have resting bitch face, you seem so closed off, I didn’t know you could be nice." These are some of the first impressions I hear when people describe how they first saw me. I also get a lot of comments about my body and face being beautiful, but despite that, people don’t tend to like me right away. And honestly, I kind of get why.

🔭The negative expression of Neptune can be described in just few words in correlation to the planets :

Absence , disillusionment, deception of…

Sun: your Dad

Moon: your Mum

Venus: your Man/Woman

Mercury: your Perception

Mars: your Power and Will

Jupiter: your Beliefs

Saturn: your Limitation

Uranus: your Freedom

Pluto: your Control and Obsession

ASC: one Self

MC: your Public image

~•Milliy•~

[bugbyte]

This this this. I absolutely hold no ill will toward anyone who got a diagnosis in months. Everyone should have that option. Faster, really.

But it’s been hitting me lately about how many little oddities and weird injuries and other problems that made my life hell growing up were more than likely just undiagnosed EDS/POTS/the other muscular dystrophy situation I don’t want to think about yet.

There’s grief. Being told for decades that you just have weird knees, but being unable to explain why gym class makes you feel like you’re actually dying. I was a skinny little kid and I think doctors and gym teachers wrote it off as me just not wanting to try. I tried and I tried and I tried. I wanted to play a sport like my friends, and because that was apparently the only capital that would get you treated like a real person and serious student by the teachers and administrators. If I had known I couldn’t do it because of a disability, just, fuck. My self esteem would have been a whole lot better.

Doctors saying these kinds of things led me down a path of “well, I just have to work harder.” This turned into an escalator of “eat better” (actually helpful) and “work out more” (coulda been helpful with proper guidance.) So I decided over time to take it to an extreme so hard that no one could deny I wasn’t doing enough exercise: I started training to run marathons. And I did! Multiples of them! It was a unique and delicious hell.

Runner’s high is real, and so I’d spend the first 5 miles staving off agony through mind over matter, snacks, music. Eventually the bone-grinding pain turned to numbness and then the high feeling somewhere between miles 5 to 8, reliably. I could ride that for a while, but when it wore off, it wore off.

Whatever the remaining distance at that point felt like dragging my body through quicksand. Whatever pain I had at the start came back multiplied by ten. But seeing the folks around me, no one was having a great time at the end of the race and I assumed all of this was normal. I would be incapacitated for days afterward, but no one could tell me I hadn’t worked hard enough to get there.

I absolutely cannot do this now. I am sad because despite the pain and injuries, it was a lot of fun. I have no idea if I contributed damage to my body but I try not to think about it too hard because it’s so far in the past.

Anyway, to bring it back around, I guess my point is that not having a frame of reference for why your body seems “wrong” to you, and the people whose job it is to advise you about it just…don’t…can really, really make you spend a lot of time trying desperately to be “normal” and it can be potentially dangerous at worst, or at least a waste of time.

It took my entire life (with a decade in the middle where I gave up for a while) to find the right path and the right people to help me understand myself and my weirdo genetics.

I wonder a lot how my life could have been different if I had known more much sooner. But I try not to think too hard about it, either. Just keep moving forward like a shark, one of the things I’d repeat to myself during races. It still applies.

I’m going to be a bitch for a second, but when I’m conversing with someone newly diagnosed with MCAS/POTS post covid and they complain about “the long wait” to get diagnosed and that “long wait” is 3-4 months my entire brain blue screens.

Like on the one hand, yes those 3-4 months must have been so, so scary and I am so unbelievably glad we’re in a place where doctors know enough to reconize it now. Like truly, I am so sincere I am so happy for them.

But I’m also just like... 30 years, man.

I spent 30 years being told from the age of eight I was manifesting my allergic reactions through anxiety by health care professionals.

Fuck, five years ago when I was starving to death from how severe my MCAS had gotten an allergist told me it was anxiety.

And you got diagnosed in three months.

MONTHS

MONTHS

AND YOU’RE COMPLAINING

I’m not mad at them. I’m not. I’m just sad for myself.

But also, hey, yeah. If you come into an MCAS forum and wonder why a bunch of the old timers get upset when you complain it took months for a doctor to listen to you, this is why.

It's not that you deserved to wait longer. It's that we didn’t either and and sometimes even good changes can unearth a world of hurt.

[nanivinsmoke]

❥ keep on comin’ back

babydaddy!toji x fem!reader

the reason he keeps on comin back.

tags: dilf toji, explicit language, dirty talking, creaming, squirting, mentions of breeding, missionary, riding, creampie, nipple play, spanking, etc.

note: shoutout to oomf who said toji keeps coming back to me, you the inspo for this.

“What are you doing here? It’s not my week—hi megs, mimi!” you diverted your attention from your baby daddy to your adopted son and your daughter, hugging their small bodies; before letting them inside of your house.

Turning back around to block him from getting in, you bring up your question again. “What are you doing here? Don’t think you’re getting any, last time was a mistake.”

“Last time we almost gave those two another sibling and I didn’t hear you complaining when you were screaming my name and scratching my back up, while i made you cum back to back.” You bit your lip as he helped you remember the last time he unexpectedly came over, which led to you having multiple mind blowing orgasms that night; and a pregnancy scare.

“well that’s never gonna happen again. now are you gonna answer me?” you stared at his green eyes, arms folded over one another—unconsciously pushing your boobs up through your black beater.

“megumi’s supposed to be having a sleepover with his best friend, yuuji, at our place, but the plumbing’s backed up for like a good week. so, he asked could we do it at mommy’s house. plus, mimi said she missed her mommy.” you cooed and looked back at your daughter and step-son, watching them play with one another.

and before you could open your mouth up to ask a follow up question, toji beat you to the punch.

“tried to find somewhere else for me to go. but, there wasn’t any hotels available. and i think it would be great for the kids to have both parents under one roof. what do ya think?” he asked and you sighed, before moving aside to let him in.

“bags are in the truck,” he smiled and kissed your cheek, turning on his heel to grab their things from his car.

being in an on again and off again relationship with each other was took a toll on you both, but it was also tough for the kids. they couldn’t understand why mommy and daddy aren’t together, however it was moments like this they were happy to have. and deep down inside, you both felt the same.

Toji returned with their bags and made his way up their stairs to the kids room, and the guest bedroom, with mimi hot on his tail. While the two of them got situated upstairs, megumi followed you into the kitchen to help you with tonight’s meal. You giggled as you watched him put on his mini apron before stepping onto his stool to watch you clean some meat for dinner.

Megumi watched with an intent stare as you moved with ease, learning from you while you cooked. “mommy? do you love dad?”

his question caught you by surprise and you nearly sliced your finger off. “yes, but not as much as i love you,” he giggled when you ruffled his raven locks before focusing back on the meal. although megumi’s mom died when he was a baby, you still loved him like he was your own. and truth be told, you really did love toji; no matter how many times he annoyed you.

“so, then why aren’t you guys married? my friend yuuji said that his dad said if two people love each, they should marry each other. plus, i saw this shiny ring in dad’s room at the other house—“

you eyes were wide. a fucking ring? there’s no way—maybe he’s got someone else in mind…right?

“mm…i don’t know. hey, you wanna have that sleepover still? go get the house phone and I’ll call yuuji’s dad.” you nervously laughed and watched him leave, before sighing out.

there’s no way, right?

—

the next couple of hours flew by, your mind was practically a blur—still caught up on the fact that toji has a ring and that he could possibly propose to you.

even though you guys broke up on good terms, parts of you missed him. real bad. you missed having him in your arms at night. missed his scent being all over you. missed him being with you and the kids. missed having him so deep inside of you almost every night.

and the reason the two of you broke up was because of him. he pushed you away, pushed you away from his heart.

yuuji came over and was having a ball with your kids, before the three of them crashed for the night, finally allowing you to have some time for yourself. you lounged on your plush brown couch, glass of wine in your hand as you caught up with one of your favorite shows, when toji’s deep voice echoed through your ears.

“knew I would find you here. what are ya watching?”

“uhh supernatural….toji can i ask you a question?”

“ya just did,” he chuckled and ducked when you hit him in the head with a throw pillow. “you know what i meant.” he nodded and you sipped some more of your wine before turning to look at him, your heart beating out of your chest; while you felt a heartbeat elsewhere.

“the ring you have, is that for me?” there was pause and his eyes caught yours. and before he could open his mouth, you spoke once more.

“meg’s told me you had it. do you really wanna marry me? do you think—“ your nervous rambling was caught off by his lips. the scar on his upper lip rubbing smoothly against yours, making you moan out. and when he pulled away, you whimpered; yearning for more.

“gotta teach him to keep secrets. damn big mouth.” he teased megumi and you gave him a slight kick, giggling at him, before he pulled you onto his lap—your plush thighs melting against his waist.

“but, yeah. ‘m gonna marry you. make you mine and pump you full of my babies,” his last comment sent shivers up your spine and you could feel your panties moisten with arousal. the tension was overwhelming and you couldn’t take it anymore. you crawled off his lap and swiftly pulled his dark grey sweatpants down to his knees, making his fat cock spring to life; before you immediately wrapped your plump lips around his head.

toji sucked in some air and tangled his thick fingers in your hair, pulling it while you worked your way down his dick. his cock was coated with your salvia, dripping down from his angry red tip—to the top of his balls, before you scooped it up and rubbed it all over him.

he was in pure bliss. basking in the sheer pleasure you were giving him. his jaw clenching as you made a sloppy messy on him, trying to suppress the moans that wanted to slip; until you swirled against his frenulum & teased his tip, making him loudly groan out.

you released him with a ‘pop’ sound echoing, your small hands jerking him off while you maintained eye contact with him, “shhh don’t wanna wake them up. now do we?” the look on his face sent a jolt of electricity up your spine and to your aching cunt, causing a switch to flip inside of you.

he watched you quickly pull your panties down, your slick sticking to the fabric, webs of your arousal following; before you squatted down onto his lap once more. “need you inside. need you to cum deep inside of me.”

you whined when you pushed him in, walls immediately stretching out and wrapping around him. this is what he missed. this is why he kept coming back…..well, one of the reasons.

his hands met your hips and helped guide you up and down on his dick, tip pressing into your cervix every once and a while. it didn’t take long for the moans to flow out freely from your mouth as you continued to bounce, stuffing you. and soon, you became even more gushy, cunt squelching while cream started form around his base—sticking to your skin while you moved.

“fuck you’re so tight. missed this pussy,” his hands collide with your ass, the fat rippling from the impact. he gripped the globes of your ass, loving the soft fat, before resting his hands on one of your cheeks.

everything about this felt sooo good. the noises you created and the touches he was giving you, was sheer bliss and you could feel an orgasm approaching. toji could feel you clenching down on him repeatedly and he groaned at the sensation. with his free hand he pulled the sleeves to your beater down—pushing it down a little—before putting one of your plump mounds into his mouth.

the warm, wet feeling of his mouth made you throw your head back; still enduring the workout of bouncing on his fat cock.

he didn’t know how he was able to last this long inside of you, especially with how long it’s been since the last time and the unbelievable head you gave him. but, he was nearing his end too.

you could feel his hands move to your waist, before your back met the soft plushness of the couch and your legs were planted at his sides. now, his cock was nestled deep inside of your tummy, hitting your spot each time he thrusted.

toji reached underneath your thighs and pulled out your wet sticky underwear, putting it into your mouth to muffle the lewd noises that left your lips. your eyes was rolling back into your head as he fucked an orgasm out of you. well, that is until he pulled you by your hair; forcing you to watch him fuck everything out of you.

“look at the mess yer makin—shit! cum for me mamas”

oh the mess you made.

specks of white blurred your vision as you stomach caved in and a stream of clear fluid splashed out, drenching his black t-shirt and the cushions underneath. you had reached nirvana, but the pleasure didn’t stop there.

toji’s grip on your hair tightened while he pounded your cunt silly—splitting you open, pumping thick white ropes of his seed inside of you.

unable to formulate any words, he just smashed his lips onto yours; hands around your neck as the two of you shared the best orgasms of your lives.

this was it. this is exactly what you wanted. what he needed. why he kept coming back.

he sat back, catching his breath while you started to come back to reality, staring at you with pure love. “guess we gotta order a new crib. hm?”

[sweettoothy]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃

╰ SHOW ﹕ ARCANE !

︵ WARNING(S) ﹕╰ swearing ⸝ violence ﹕ sex

︵ relationship ﹕ Vi x fem!fragile!reader x Caitlyn

— pt.2 : watch it all burn.

⟣・S2・HEAVY IS THE CROWN︰

THE SOUND OF screaming could be heard when you had awoken from being on the ground, your hair in a messy style as you couldn’t see your surroundings. was Jayce and viktor okay? was everyone alright? mel..? of course you wouldn’t know, everything in your body hurt, it felt like some sort of piece of metal lodged in your side.

Being a well trained solider had its many perks but you weren’t prepared for this. Of course you weren’t. like they say, the most unexpected things come.

For you though it felt a little far fetched whenever your mom would tell you the stories about the ghost and salem. Where the witch would be haunted down and hunted but towards the end they found her having did no wrong doing.

Sad tale it was. really.

Everything on your body hurt like hell, the only voice you could hear was Jayce’s. was he carrying you and viktor? probably.

That dude had some incredible strength.

JAYCE SITS IN a chair with his head in his hand, looking over at viktor who lays inside the hextech. seeing you and viktor in this condition was tearing him limb from limb, not in a gruesome way but a much more sadder way.

He had hated not being able to protect the both of you, it felt like hell. But you know, some things just come and go…you lay there on a bed with a bunch of iv’s attached to your arms and lower half, your hair was in a messy bun since Jayce had tried thing it himself.

Mel walks inside his office as she takes a look around, her eyes landing on Jayce. “How are they?” She questioned.

“Same as before. They’re both breathing.” Jayce answers in reply, a distressed look on his face. “Their pluses are consistent. Beyond that, your guess is as good as mines.”

Mel walks over to viktor, her eyes landing on the hextech as she starts reaching her hand out with curiosity. When she goes to touch it, it reacts differently with her making her gasp and step back.

“What’s it doing to him?” Mel questions.

“The hexcore has been evolving.” Jayce explains, “shifting through runic patters faster than I can keep up. All I know for certain is that it’s keeping him and her alive.”

Jayce eyes land on where you laid, his heart aching with devastation as he sees you reacting differently to the hextech aside from viktor, your body was rejecting it but also accepting it at the same time.

If it was the only thing keeping you alive he wasn’t gonna mess with it.

“It should be me up there instead of him. I should be laying in that bed instead of her,” Jayce grumbled, gesturing to an unconscious you on the bed barely breathing. “Vi and cait are gonna lose it.”

“Don’t say that.” Mel placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “They’ll both come back to us.”

“I still don’t understand.” Jayce replies. “They were both right next to me. How does the explosion do that to them, and I just…? I just walk out without a scratch? [name] almost lost a hand, my god.”

Mel sighs. “There’s no sense to these things, Jayce.”

The male was quiet for a while before speaking again, “how’d it go with the council?” he asks.

Mel scoffs. “My mother’s entered the game. She’s already gotten her hooks into salo. Using his grief to make a play for hextech.”

“Mel, I promised viktor, never again.” Jayce tells the woman.

Mel places her hand over his. “It’s all right. I handled it. I won’t let them corrupt your dream.”

Jayce looks over at an unconscious you again, before laying his head on mel’s thighs, tears threaten to fall down his eyes but he holds them back.

He just wanted you and viktor back, that’s all.

You were very important to caitlyn and vi after all.

“I should get going now.” Mel says, “you might want to spend some alone time with them.”

With that, she stood up and patted his shoulder one last time before walking out the door. The door slams shut behind her by itself, making Jayce flinch a little.

He feels you stir, his head perks up immediately.

When it does, he saw you already staring at him, a confused look on your gaze.

“What was that about?” You questioned, sitting up with your back pressed against the pillows. It was a little hard to breathe but it was manageable with the breathing machine.

“I don’t even care-- i just-- you’re--?” Jayce launches forward and pulls you into a huge, a huge so tight you had gasped. He wasn’t hugging you too tight as though you couldn’t breathe— he just hugged you with desperation and worry.

“Woah! hey, hey, it’s okay.” You reassured, patting his back. “I’m okay.”

He was so happy to hear your voice.

“ONE OF THE MANY PRIVILEGES OF SERVING AS YOUR COUNCILOR IS HAVING THE OCCASION NOW AND AGAIN TO STAND BEHIND THIS PODIUM TO BEHOLD SO MANY JOINED TOGETHER NOT BY BIRTH OR DICTUM BUT BY ALL THAT WE SHARE.” MEL SPOKE as you stood by the other guards to keep watch, your back was leaned against the wall as the wound with the patch on your side was being healed. Your biceps flexing under the light as your toned abs still hurting from the explosion, but the wounds would heal, you were sure.

You glanced down at the tattoo on your hip and let your thumb graze over it, remembering when it was given.

You see one of the enforcers walk past you, you look them up and down by their attire before your brows furrowed— something felt wrong.

Heading into the crowd you lock gazes with vi, the both of you nodding towards one another before following the enforcer. But another person caught your attention as well, making you turn around and face the other way.

“The hell..?” You whisper lowly.

You push past the crowd of civilians as your hips sway when walking, and you walked with a purpose.

To figure out who the hell these people were.

Walking over to the other enforcers you climbed over the railing, your thighs still hurting but of course you forgot to bring your crutches for support. But it’s whatever.

“Wait, wait, ma’am you can’t--“

“Excuse me, I’m an enforcer too.” You say firmly as your eyes narrowed at the man. “So I can get pass, just like the rest of you.”

“We can’t even go in, so we can’t let you in either.”one of the enforcers replies. “Plus, you’re still injured from the attack so…”

Your piercing (e/c) eyes looked into the man’s brown ones, making his eyes widen a little— least to say, he was intimidated.

“Move, please,” you pleaded this time. “I feel like something is very wrong.”

Caitlyn looks over her shoulder and noticed the panicked look on your face— you would never randomly fuss about anything.

She knew something was wrong.

“Awful, isn’t it?”

Jayce looks over his shoulder when he hears a woman’s voice.

“Losing a loved one.”

When Jayce slowly turns around, the woman slips off her mask as she grabs her chainsaw, swining it at Jayce who barely dodged out of the way quickly.

Everyone starts screaming and shouting, rushing off to find somewhere safe.

“Get all the civilians to safety.” You told the enforcers before turning around to go and find Jayce, your leg still hurting from the explosion. you couldn’t walk around with a weak and injured leg but you thought against it.

“Jayce!” You shouted, searching for him. “Where are you? Jayce?!”

Someone suddenly slams you into a wall, making you hit the solid platform hard. A weak cry of pain escapes past your lips as you slid down the wall, clutching your arm.

Staggering to your knees, you rushed to get away from whatever was chasing you.

Get away, get away, get away

That was just going through your mind.

Something slashes in your back through your coat, “ah!” You shriek as you collapsed to your knees and hit the ground. Back arched as you tried crawling away from whatever had attacked you.

They grab onto your hair, arm wrapping around your neck once they finally got the chance to turn you around, the air in your lungs seemed to have collapsed the second they tighten their large hand around your throat.

You kick and flail your legs around as you gasped for air, eyes heavy and face turning blue as you choked— the breath you were now trying to breathe was very toxic seeping into your nostrils and throat.

You use your fists to hit at the man’s hands, he watched with a sadistic grin on his lips as the life in your eyes were starting to fade.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the life in your eyes seemed to have been fading.

“Get the fuck away from her!” Vi shouted as she rushed towards the much bigger man and knocked him in the face with her knee.

You collapsed to the ground, gasping for air as you clutched at your own throat.

Vi rushed over to you with concern, cupping your cheek as she leaned over you. “Are you okay? does anything hurt?”

“Vi?” You croaked weakly, grasping at her wrist.

Vi presses your hand against her fast beating chest, concern wiping her features. “It’s me. It’s me. you’re okay.”

She helps you up, “I’ll be right back. go and try to find cait, okay?”

You nodded before rushing off to find caitlyn.

“Cait!” You called out.

You couldn’t even get as far before you hit the ground, passing out.

END OF CHAPTER ONE

[knavesflames]

heyyy el

requesting politely reader ... tending to ... arlecchino with her mouth and going from starting timid to taking a bit more control to arles surprise

lots of care and love just like in the one you just posted :3

mhm ty

Hi anon<33 I hope you are doing well and having a nice night (it’s night for me). I liked this idea >:) sorry lol it took me a while to come up with a concept but I hope this suffices 😁😁😁 (hi guys the dirty words are slowly making a reappearance)

Word count: 2.2k

Contents: soft dom!reader (kind of yes), bottom Arlecchino, cunnilingus (funny word), fingering at the end, orgasm denial (ONCE GUYS OKAY ONCE), also praise (guys I’m cooked)

Songs I listened to (for fun): fantastic- king princess (is this one obvious or not), disease- lady gaga, shhh!- viviz, pivot- HEYOON, boyfriend- dove Cameron, impurities- le sserafim

There’s more but I forgot

Nsft utc<3

Arlecchino is not a receiver. She gives and takes nothing, it’s how she’s always liked it, whatever the reason may be. She has not explained, and you doubt she will. Arlecchino is very secretive, you’ve come to learn. She divulges what she must, and keeps the rest hidden. Even you, who seems to know more about her than anyone ever has, is kept in the dark about a lot of things– what exactly triggers her nightmares? What truly happened with that ‘Mother’ of hers? There are rumours, of course. Arlecchino is mad and cursed, she killed her Mother ruthlessly without reason, she killed her best friend for nothing other than a simple quarrel. You know them to be false, now you know her better, but what you can’t seem to understand is why she lets the lies fester, why allows herself to be portrayed as a cruel monster. She can’t seem to answer you.

Arlecchino also refuses to tell you why she pushes herself so hard, or why she has such strict rules for herself. You beg her to take that damn suit off constantly (for.. Multiple reasons, both you and her know that well enough– she only obliges when it ends in you as a quivering mess on the bed). “What happened to regular clothing? I know you dislike dresses, but you don’t have to force your body into that silly suit all the time.” is a phrase often uttered. Silence is the only answer given.

Silence seems to be an answer you get from her often. In different contexts, of course. Sometimes, she is silent when she is comfortable, when she is thinking, when she is angry.. You realised long ago that she is a woman of few words– and even fewer sounds. During the rare occasions you get to make her feel good (whether that’s simultaneous to your own pleasure, or before), the only sounds you really hear are the soft breaths and the slight grunts whenever you do something she particularly likes. You have made it your mission to coax more sounds out of her, even if it’s the last thing you do. You experiment with different things each time you get to make her feel good, anything remotely sexual she’s done to you, you try with her. Degradation doesn’t work, her only response is a cock of her eyebrow and a scoff. Praise is a little bit better, earning a soft kiss on whatever part of your skin she can reach. Tying her up is out of the question– she has made it abundantly clear multiple times she only enjoys the act of bondage, however small, when you are on the receiving end. It’s the case for a lot of things, and it almost irritates you. Almost. it turns out the answer is something much simpler than anything you’ve ever tried, and you mentally curse yourself for taking so long to figure it out (for Arlecchino, that was the point. She likes the game, even if she truly is trying to keep her weakness hidden).

The answer was something she had done to you almost every time you had engaged in some form of intimate act with her. There aren’t many acts more intimate than your partner giving up the ability to speak because their tongue seems to be.. Busy. You just hadn’t realised that Arlecchino would ever be on the receiving end. So, after much pleading (and begging to the point it almost seems you’re begging her to fuck you instead of the other way around), she seemed to relent. Barely.

“Let me try,” comes the soft whisper from your lips, hitting the side of her neck as you gently place kisses there. There’s no reaction, but you could swear you felt a shiver. Moving away from the milky, unmarred skin of her neck (one of the only places that isn’t marked with either her curse or an array of scars), you almost expertly push the blazer off her shoulders before slowly sinking to your knees. The carpet is fuzzy, but it doesn’t do much to soften the hard wood underneath. You can’t find yourself caring. The blazer lands on the back of the desk chair. Excited, desperate fingers tug at the buttons of those godforsaken trousers until they finally do what you want them to do. You’ve done what you can, you can’t push her hips up so you can continue to take them off, she’s stronger than you’ll ever be (you like that). “Don’t you think it would feel nice? You know it feels nice. Do you not think you deserve it?”

“I do not deserve the pleasure you give me,” she murmurs, a rare show of her inner thoughts. The woman criticises herself too much, you think. You wish she wouldn’t be so strict with herself.

“Irrelevant,” She shivers at the slight sternness of your voice. It mirrors her own. “Do you want it?”

Arlecchino doesn’t respond for a while. Her hand moves to your head, and she caresses your hair, gently stroking and tugging at the strands before she eventually speaks, a whisper, a subconscious attempt to hide the fact she’s about to chase something she never allows herself to. “Put a pillow under your knees, at least.”

You grin, so pleased with yourself. You stand again, only to sprint and find a pillow. It happens to be the pillow you sleep on, it doesn’t matter. You return to your position only to find her trousers messily on the ground, and the top four buttons of her dress shirt undone. The look in her eyes is one you’ve rarely seen– want. “Beg.” you whisper, the grin still on your face. Arlecchino’s own face twists into a frown.

“I will die before I beg for anything.” Her tone is resolute, and you sit there nonetheless, unmoving apart from the finger tracing up and down her toned thigh. You both stay like that for an agonising two minutes before she barely mumbles. “Please.”

You are incredibly aware that you won’t get more than that, so, even though you know it doesn’t do much, you mutter “good girl”. It does do something, though. You barely hear it, but her breath shakes. You take it as an initiative to start, so you let your lips find her thigh, planting wet, open mouthed kisses up towards her inner thigh. You continue, and– she’s soaked already. You’ve done exactly nothing and she’s as wetter than you’ve ever seen her. Your eyes move up to hers, a raise of your eyebrow as you open your mouth to speak, but she cuts you off before you can speak.

“Do not. I am aware of the.. situation.”

“But you’re all wet and it’s all for my tongue. Isn’t that sweet?” You’ve never been this cocky at all, and Arlecchino would be a liar if she said she didn’t like it. She tries to find words, something to refute the claim, but her words are ripped from her lips when she feels your own lips graze her clit. It’s a tiny movement, really, but one she isn’t entirely used to. The only reaction she makes, however, is a slightly sharper exhale. Until your eyes stare straight into hers and you do it again, though for longer. Then again, though this time your tongue presses flat against it. Your tongue doesn’t move, much to Arlecchino’s dismay. The hand that rested in your hair gently tugs.

“Continue.” She speaks breathily, and her words shake. You can practically hear her gulp as she tries (and fails) to calm herself, and you know she’s probably telling herself to show no emotion. Though, when you finally start moving your tongue in slow, languid motions, you hear her shaky sigh and feel her hand in your hair tighten even more. You try to find a rhythm that affects her the most, alternating between soft licks and harder presses— you find that swirling your tongue around her clit, occasionally moving down to dip your tongue into her aching cunt. Your eyes dart up to her every few seconds to catch her mouth falling open and her head tilting back. When her mouth isn’t open, she’s stifling any noise she could possibly make, gritting her teeth so hard you’re almost certain they’re going to crack. The next time you tear your eyes away from her skin and move them to her face, her eyes are squeezed shut, and only then does a quiet groan escape her.

Something seems to change in your mind, because your hands move to grip her thighs, holding them apart despite them trembling. She’s sensitive, after all, it isn’t often she gets taken care of, is it? The blackened hand not pulling greedily at the strands on your head moves in an attempt to push your hands away, but your voice vibrates against her (which of course, causes another quiet sound to slip from her). “Keep your hands on the chair.”

Arlecchino’s eyes shoot open, a gasp practically ripping through her lungs. “You cannot expect me t—“

“Do it or I stop. Let me finish making you feel good.” She scolds herself internally for letting you get too comfortable with her own tricks. Either way, it feels good and she doesn’t want you to stop, though she’d rather cut off her own arm than admit it. She doesn’t need to say a word, though, the small groans (and whimpers) tell you everything. Especially when they grow louder, and her chest begins heaving, and her voice breaks with every utterance of your name. It’s the most pleasure she’s ever outwardly expressed.

“Why did you stop?” Her exasperated, breathless voice echoes the room. You stopped just as her orgasm was reaching the peak, causing it to ebb away quickly, a sense of disappointment growing in Arlecchino’s stomach. Her eyes, now piercing into you with that familiar irritated stare, meet yours, your own full of amusement. Wiping your chin (when you’re eating pussy like it’s the last meal you’ll ever eat, it tends to get messy, doesn’t it?), you chuckle and respond in your own teasing lilt.

“You taste so good, and your pussy is so damn pretty, Arlecchino. I don’t particularly want to stop right now. You can take it, can’t you? Keep your hands still.” Her face twists into some odd mix of mortified and aroused, but your tongue meets her clit again, and the only sound she can make is something so uncharacteristic, a whine. You continue exactly what you were doing before, though this time you decide to slide a finger into her— the reaction she gave was definitely a pleasant one, her back arching off of the chair, her hands squeezing the seat of it in an attempt to keep them still. Arlecchino reaches the peak quicker this time, and despite your bossy orders, she finds herself melting into you completely, her hips grinding herself onto your tongue as much as she possibly can. It’s completely different to how she was at the beginning, her plan to remain unbothered and stoic foiled.

“Can I— please don’t stop this time.” When there comes no response from you other than a curl of your finger, she moans your name in a useless attempt to get you to answer her. You’re being mean, she thinks, and you’re using everything she does against her. “Answer me. Tell me I can cum.”

How is she still demanding things from you even in this position? She lost all control a long time ago. You find your eyes opening though, and while adding a second finger, your voice softens and you speak, voice full of affection. “Be good and cum for me, then. Now, before I change my mind. Let yourself feel good, yeah?”

Arlecchino doesn’t need to be told twice, because her hips lose whatever rhythm they had when your tongue presses flat against her, letting her choose the pace and the rhythm she knows will get her there quickest (it doesn’t take long, the woman is so sexually pent up it’s laughable). Within a minute, she’s crying out, her hands flying up to her face to cover the obscene expression she knows is there. You pay no attention, only watching every movement with a sense of satisfaction and a smile in your eyes. You keep your finger curling and your tongue still until her body stops rocking, and her hands leave her face. When her face, the one you find so beautiful, emerges from behind her hands, mascara slightly smudged, you can’t help but snicker as you pull out and away from her.

“Better?” You ask, wiping your chin once more with the back of your hand. You somehow look so smug and the look on your face pisses Arlecchino off, just a little. How you’re so calm and collected and she’s a fucked out mess sat in her desk chair.

“Yes,” she says, her voice sharper than she intends it to be really, but she continues in the same tone. “I do hope you don’t think we’re finished, hm?” Your head tilts in slight confusion, but the smile remains on your face. After a while, Arlecchino’s own lips twitch upwards, barely noticeable, but you notice nonetheless. “How could I leave you without feeling good, too? Go to the bedroom, please.”

[philosophicalparadox]

Got a Japanese grocery store near me. It IS kept very meticulously neat and orderly, but in a completely different way than what we usually see in the US — the “flow” of foods breaks up differently I guess.

Even so, despite now living on the East coast where literally anything from Japan is easily three to six times the cost as it was in California, many foods are still much cheaper.

And there’s WAY more variety. If you ever wanted to know about 21 different types of edible seaweed, and how to use them, that’s the place to go, and they WONT bankrupt you like a health food store.

The exception is some snack foods and other imports — but largely, the produce in that store actually comes from California; it often says so right on the boxes.

You see, the US has very weird food standards aesthetically, so we import a huge quantity of produce, and export the stuff that’s Ugly or that we just aren’t interested in.

But some of it stays here — and goes principally to markets aimed at minorities.

SO if you actually want to support US agriculture AND get cheap groceries, do absolutely find an Asian or even Hispanic / pretty much any minority market/store. I grew up next to the latter, with a similar butcher shop across the street. It was often times the only way we even could afford produce and meat; neither store was pretty by US standards, but it was INFINITELY better than relying on the quite literally rotten food that came in the food boxes. At some point FREE just gets used as a convenient excuse to dump waste somewhere and make it someone else’s problem; and while we did need to rely on those boxes at times, you bet your ass we nickel and dimed our way into those produce markets and learned to make preserves, because nobody should have to eat f-ing rotting food. But that is another story for another day.

Point is you are doing a lot more good for a lot more people shopping in a store like that than feeding the corporate overlords.

(And for the record, when I say cheaper, which is not a term most Americans associate with Japanese anything, I mean it — a bushel - that is about two pounds- of apples at Acme/safeway is like 4-6 bucks, so 2-3$ a pound. At this particular Japanese and sometimes Korean market, THE SAME APPLES are like 50c- 1.00 a pound, because They’re From The US and often are just not as pretty as ones you’d buy elsewhere. Yeah, you’ll have to cut around some nicks and bruises on that pear (and OMG do they have pears! Like 6 varieties!) but it’s perfectly edible and delicious.

Same goes for herbs. Whole Foods is a freaking rip off selling fresh mint for 2 dollars for like 12 stems. The Japanese market? You can get an entire damn mint plant for that price. Dried spices are sold in bulk like at Winco, from hoppers with bags. You pay by weight, not brand. So you can in fact get more than 6 stamens of Saffron for the 9$ that freakin’ McCormic sells that stuff. (You pay for the glass bottle more than anything).

The ONLY thing that makes this market unappealing to people: They put just about everything they can in Metric. Weights are sold by mg and kilo first; there are numbers that correlate to the respective pound /ounce on some things, and others are just in US imperial like the apples. But if you weigh the spices or pasta or anything like that, you’ll be charged for the metric conversion. Which apparently upsets dumb people who don’t understand that a gram is far more precise than an ounce, and that it keeps them from losing stock too fast since they’re pretty small fish — it’s owned by two people, and staffed by maybe 7 at a time. They don’t get priority on restock.

Anyway, small business grocery = best place to buy food

How to Shop at an Asian (or other ethnic) Grocery Store

Do you live in or near a city in the US?

Need to save some money on groceries?

Might I introduce you to... shopping at the local Asian grocery?

Asian grocery stores aimed at an Asian-American customer base almost always beat the prices of their western (or for-western) counterparts. Often by a significant amount, especially in categories like produce, meat, rice, and spices. Plus in addition to lower prices, you get the satisfaction of supporting a small, local business instead of a larger chain store.

(Note that a lot of this information applies to other ethnic grocery stores as well, but we're using Asian because they're common in many cities, and have particularly good prices on produce.)

But it can be a little bit of a learning curve when you first start to shop at them. This post will give you the information you need to navigate them.

So how do you find a good Asian grocery store?

First, go on google maps and search "grocery".

Note that you are NOT googling "Asian Grocery" or "Cheap Grocery". If you search "Asian Grocery" you will get results for Asian stores marketing toward a western audience, and because of this, will be neat, shiny, and very pricey. If you search "Cheap Grocery" you will get stores marketing themselves as cheap, which generally are only slightly less expensive than their "expensive" counterparts (think Aldi). Okay in a pinch, but you can do better.

Second, look at the pictures of all the stores you can easily get to.

Here's what you want: not a lot of printed ads, pictures of hand-written signs (especially in languages other than English), food in cardboard bins, and you want it to look kind of "junky". Bonus points if you can see prices listed in the pictures or the people shopping there are mostly older, ethnic women.

Third, If you couldn't find anything like this, go on your city's subreddit.

Search "cheap", "cheap grocery" and "expensive grocery". Why "expensive grocery"? Because you want to find people complaining about grocery prices, and you want to see the advice they get. Many times, that advice is Asian or ethnic grocery stores.

If you're still not getting anything, google "[city name] cheap grocery" and "[city name] expensive grocery" (see above). Scroll until you get to FORUMS discussing groceries in your city. You DO NOT want blogs or articles. Again, you're looking at the advice people are given when they complain about grocery prices.

One of the first questions people ask upon walking into an Asian grocery store of the type discussed in this post is:

"Is the food I'm getting here safe to eat?"

The answer is just as safe as anywhere else you might shop.

You're probably used to very clean, pretty, well-lit, well-organized stores. This will probably not be that, but it will be regulated by the same health department that regulates those stores. They are held to the same standards.

It's a lot of work to keep a store looking like a western consumer expects. It's a lot less work (and thus less money) to keep a store looking like an ethnic career housewife or grandmother expects. That is largely where the savings comes from.

What's a good deal at an Asian grocery?

Produce. You're probably used to things like onions and carrots being the cheapest per pound. Here it's going to be greens, apples, pears, radish, cabbage and maybe squash and sweet potatoes. Check unit prices and prepare to try some new things. Also a pound of greens is a LOT of greens. Keep that in mind. Also keep in mind that you might see a few pieces of produce that are bruised or have mold on them. That's okay. Just don't buy those pieces. The rest of the batch is probably fine. Wash produce when you get home if you're concerned, though you should be doing that anyway.

Rice and dry beans. If you like to buy in bulk, you're in luck. Don't expect to walk away with a pound or two of these. They come in 40lb packages. But if you tailor most of your meals around them, those meals will be cheap af. There are also lots of different types of specialty rice if you want to make your own sushi or mochi. Learn how to soak and sprout beans.

Tofu. Tofu is expensive when you buy it at a health food store. It is not when you buy it at an Asian grocery. It probably won't be in pretty packages, but again, cheap is not going to be super pretty.

Meat and fish. Meat is generally going to be cheaper here, though maybe not by as much as the produce is. Pork will probably be your cheapest option. You may also see cuts you don't normally see, like tongue, intestine, liver, kidneys, blood, etc... "Weird," however, does not automatically mean cheap in this context. Check unit prices and prepare to be adventurous. If you don't know what else to do with them, dried fish and animal organs make fantastic stock when boiled.

Spices. Again with the extremely large quantities here. But very inexpensive compared with their western counterparts.

Candy. This makes a great inexpensive gift if you need one, since the candy sold at these stores is fairly exotic for a western audience.

What isn't a good deal at an Asian grocery?

Dairy. This includes fresh milk, butter, cheese, etc... If they have it, it will be very expensive. Consider buying elsewhere.

Eggs. Again, this will probably be as expensive or more than the eggs you could get at a western supermarket.

Snacks. Pre-made items will be expensive in general, even though they may be tempting because they are different from what you are used to and you don't need to learn to cook a new thing. Do your best to avoid these and make your own if you can. If you can't, frozen pork or vegetable dumplings are probably your best bet for a quick meal.

Bread. It's pricey. A lot of Asian cuisines use rice, noodles, or buns for their starch instead of western-style bread. So if you can find it it will often be a novelty item.

What else do I need to know?

It's okay to be overwhelmed by new ingredients. Look up some YouTube videos on how to cook certain ingredients if you're not familiar with them.

These are not supermarkets. They sell food and sometimes the kitchenware (steamers, woks, chopsticks, etc...) needed to cook it. You will probably need to get your soap and household items somewhere else.

Pay in cash if you can. Most of these are very small businesses and paying them cash makes it so they don't need to pay credit card fees. At the very least, make the minimum purchase before paying with a card.

[aedearly]

✎ㅤ. . .ㅤ𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑺.

₊˚⊹ ㅤa collection of loose quotes taken from various characters from hades (supergiant games). these quotes are from the first game of the series. writing/roleplaying prompts. from fluff to angst! feel free to edit as you see fit, especially since some are gendered.

❝ i’m leaving. try and stop me. ❞ ❝ that could have gone better. ❞ ❝ why can’t you just stay? ❞ ❝ i wish you could come with me. ❞ ❝ you’re coming with me. ❞ ❝ i have to take you back. ❞ ❝ but for you, i will be making an exception. ❞ ❝ whew… they’re gone. ❞ ❝ now, come on, we got places to be! ❞ ❝ may the fates favour your journey. ❞ ❝ oh you know, i’d rather have my eyes put out, but thanks for offering! ❞ ❝ if only… ❞ ❝ you should be ashamed of yourself, and learn your place. ❞ ❝ ahh, so you are taking pity on me, then? ❞ ❝ i’m sorry that it has to be this way. ❞ ❝ you’re late. ❞ ❝ will i see you soon? ❞ ❝ did you miss me? ❞ ❝ i’m home. ❞ ❝ we’re heading home. ❞ ❝ you… came back? ❞ ❝ i hope i didn’t keep you waiting very long, did i? ❞ ❝ is something wrong? ❞ ❝ i can’t believe this. ❞ ❝ i’m in your debt. ❞ ❝ there’s going to be payback, you know. ❞ ❝ … damn you. ❞ ❝ this is for you. ❞ ❝ do you remember me? my name is—ah, nevermind. ❞ ❝ i’m not who you think i am. ❞ ❝ keep following that heart of yours. ❞ ❝ to hell with this place! ❞ ❝ fear is for the weak. ❞ ❝ oh, look at you, you poor, poor thing, you’re hurt! ❞ ❝ you’re such a sweetheart. ❞ ❝ you brought this on yourself. ❞ ❝ no need to thank me, mate. ❞ ❝ please, i don’t want to do this… ❞ ❝ you don’t have to do this… ❞ ❝ only the best for you. ❞ ❝ i hope you’re right. ❞ ❝ gods grant me strength… ❞ ❝ that is the worst idea i think i’ve ever heard. ❞ ❝ do you understand how little sense that makes? ❞ ❝ look what i found! ❞ ❝ something’s changed about the beating of your heart. ❞ ❝ no wonder they don’t like you. ❞ ❝ wish i could be there to see your face. ❞ ❝ i’ll earn your favour yet. ❞ ❝ how bad could it be? ❞ ❝ hello there, handsome. ❞ ❝ … this is the cheesiest thing i’ve heard from you. ❞ ❝ what has gotten into you? ❞ ❝ blood and darkness! ❞ ❝ lucky for you, i’ve no pride like many others here. ❞ ❝ it’s over. i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ go. away. i won’t repeat myself. ❞ ❝ i knew your heart was true. ❞ ❝ let’s kiss and make up! ❞ ❝ mischief, me? oh please! ❞ ❝ i don’t know how you can stand this kind of thing… ❞ ❝ you tried. that’s what matters. ❞ ❝ a man after my own heart… ❞ ❝ why won’t you give up? ❞ ❝ ever so stubborn, aren’t you? ❞ ❝ life and death, one and the same. ❞ ❝ you’re running from yourself. again. ❞ ❝ what do you want from me? leave me alone. we’ve nothing to discuss anymore. ❞ ❝ i cannot bring myself to stay upset with you forever. ❞ ❝ the truth is i’m a lover, not a fighter. ❞ ❝ i have to see her! ❞ ❝ so how goes wilful disobedience of late? ❞ ❝ you think all these gifts will make things go back to the way they were? ❞ ❝ we’re older now—i’d hope we’re wiser, too. ❞ ❝ i have to go. ❞ ❝ we were having such a good time! ❞ ❝ time is up. ❞ ❝ you’re so reckless. ❞ ❝ thank you for always keeping me on my toes. ❞ ❝ your luck’s run out. ❞ ❝ i don’t know why i bother with you, honestly. ❞ ❝ may i call you my friend? ❞ ❝ i’d like to make a toast, to you! ❞ ❝ no need for special thanks. ❞ ❝ i’ve some memories i’m not quite ready to give up on yet. ❞ ❝ i’ll break your heart. ❞