#you hold on until you can’t hold on anymore

[rafesangelita]

⊹₊⟡⋆♡ “have you ever tried this one?” in which kook!sweetheart!reader convinces rafe to take her to go see one of her favorite artists, and as a ‘thank you’ she and rafe have to do whatever position sabrina demo’s for her song “juno..”

warnings: fluff, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise, breeding kink (?)

a/n: so sad because i didn’t get to see sabrina on tour, and she has had me in the meanest chokehold lately :( click this link to see what position i’m referring to <3

when the dates dropped for sabrina’s ‘short n’ sweet’ tour, rafe wasted no time in buying you two tickets. of course, you didn’t know this and begged him for weeks until he finally told you yes, your flight and hotel room already booked for a nice little weekend getaway. rafe helped you make your concert outfit, both of you spending hours on the whole ensemble. the end result was absolutely stunning and rafe couldn’t stop taking pictures of you.

he posted one on the night of the concert, captioning it ‘my little popstar princess <3’ and you two were off to the stadium. while you knew wearing sparkly white platform boots wouldn’t be the best choice to walk in, you stuck it through, and as soon as the lights dimmed and the music started, any kind of discomfort you felt had melted away as you were far too distracted singing along to every song that boomed through the venue.

babydoll lingerie top with pink fluffy trim, dedazzled stockings, glittery makeup, your hair freshly done, rafe swore you never looked prettier. even though he was against wearing anything that sparkled, he decided to wear a plain pink t-shirt to match with you in his own little way. he kept his arms wrapped around your waist as you two sung, having learned the lyrics to every song since you insisted on being in charge of the aux cord whenever you two were in his truck.

eventually, you two were swaying softly, rafe’s chin resting in the curve of your neck as you stroked the skin of his arm. “thank you for bringing me here.” you smiled up at him, connecting your lips as the intro to ‘juno’ started playing. rafe hummed, leaning down so you could hear him. “you know i had to bring you, baby.. what do you say you thank me another way when we get back to our room?” your cheeks heated as you laughed softly.

“yeah, i’d like that,” you pecked his cheek, “how about we do the position she does for the song?” rafe smiled, both of you fixing your attention on the stage. you waited with anticipation, your heart beating in your ears when she bent over and touched her toes. rafe cheered, making you laugh as he couldn’t wait to get you back to the hotel. luckily for him, there was only a few more songs left before the show ended and the two of you rushed out of there.

it wasn’t long after you two walked through the door that rafe had your boots thrown in a forgotten corner, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he took you roughly from behind. you struggled to keep your hands placed on your perfectly pedicured toes, your knees threatening to give out from under you while rafe thrusted into you at an unforgiving pace. “holy fuck, you’re taking it so fuckin’ good, gorgeous, ‘might just let you get off your tippy toes and put you on your back instead.”

you cried out, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as his pelvis smacked against the back of your ass. “can’t, rafe!” you shrieked, nearly doubling over before your boyfriend reached down and grabbed your arms, holding you by your wrists as you hung helplessly from his grip. he was fucking you stupid, and your lack of thoughts was proof of it. you couldn’t think, the feeling of rafe’s cock stroking that soft gummy spot inside of you made you whimper pathetically.

finally, you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, your knees meeting the carpeted floor. rafe picked you up, cursing under his breath as he encouraged you to get back in position. “promise i’ll have you in bed soon, pretty, you could hold out for me, yeah?” you shuddered, looking at him from behind your shoulder with that fucked-out gaze he loved so much. you had tears in your eyes, your body glitter still sparkling under the soft lighting.

giving him a little nod, you reached down once again, holding onto your ankles for dear life as rafe circled an arm under your hips, holding you up as his fingers started working on your clit. “oh!” you were in hysterics, your blood rushing to your head as he landed a harsh smack to your backside. “come on, baby, ‘wanna feel this pussy squeeze around me.” you moaned at his words, your orgasm just in arm’s reach as rafe’s thrusts grew uncalculated. “rafe?” you could barely speak, the band in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

“talk to me.” he groaned, teetering the edge of pure euphoria. ���make me juno?” you giggled for a split second, the insinuation only turning rafe on even more. “fuck, yeah? ‘want me to fill you up, give you a baby?” you let out a distorted “mhmm!’, the two of you gasping when your highs took you both to cloud nine. rafe pulled you back up, your chest rising and falling while your legs shook with your orgasm. pressing wet kisses to your neck, rafe did exactly as he said, his hips stuttering as hot, thick ropes of cum painted your velvety walls.

you two stayed like this, pressed against one another until your breathing slowed, the aftershocks subsiding before rafe laid you both down in bed. “we should have a ‘short n’ sweet’ themed baby shower.. we could serve espressos.” rafe laughed, draping an arm over your tummy. “we’ll see.” he hummed. your eyes fluttered shut as you breathed him in, his cologne still heavy on his skin. “you know what we should try when we get back home?” rafe traced shapes into your side, mumbling a ‘what’s that?’

“pink fuzzy handcuffs.”

[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.

[logos0]

Through the Storm

You had always hated storms. Not the ones outside—the crashing thunder and relentless rain were oddly comforting—but the ones that raged inside your mind. They brewed at inconvenient times, bringing doubt, anxiety, and an unbearable weight you could never fully describe. Being with Leah had always been your calm in the chaos, but lately, even she felt like a ship lost in the swell.

The rift started small—a disagreement over her schedule, a misunderstanding about a missed call. Leah was always busy. Between her training sessions and commitments to the England squad, it sometimes felt like you were just another appointment she pencilled in. You tried not to let it bother you, and at first it worked, but as time passed, you could not push down your frustration. Your feelings no longer simmered under the surface but started bubbling over at the worst moments.

It all came to a head one night after her return from an away game. You hadn’t seen her in weeks, nor had you been able to call her, and while you wanted to savour her presence, the frustration you’d been holding in came spilling out instead.

"You’re never here, Leah," you said, your voice trembling with both anger and sadness. "I get that football’s your life, but am I even part of it anymore?"

She stood in the doorway, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, exhaustion painted across her face. "Of course, you are," she replied, her tone sharp with defensiveness. "You think I don’t miss you when I’m gone? You think this is easy for me?"

"Well, it doesn’t feel like it," you shot back, tears welling in your eyes. "You come home, and it’s like… I’m just a stopover before the next big thing. Like I’m not enough."

Leah dropped her bag and stepped closer, but you turned away, wiping your eyes furiously. "Don’t say that," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You’re everything to me."

"Then why doesn’t it feel like it?"

The silence that followed was deafening. Leah stood frozen, her eyes searching yours for something she couldn’t find. Those eyes which had pulled you into a ban so long ago and now were tormenting you. "I don’t know how to fix this," she admitted, her voice barely audible.

And just like that, the storm between you grew too wild to tame. Leah left that night, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the sound of rain pounding against the window.

The days that followed were agonizing. Leah texted you sporadically, but the messages felt hollow, as though she was trying to bridge a gap that words alone couldn’t mend. You left most of them unanswered, unsure of what to say—or if you even wanted to.

Until one night, a week later, when your phone buzzed with a message that was different from the rest.

Leah: I’m outside. Please, just… let me talk.

You hesitated, your heart battling between wanting to see her and wanting to stay angry. But the thought of her standing outside in the cold, waiting for you, tugged at your resolve. With a sigh, you grabbed a coat and opened the door.

Leah was there, drenched from the rain, her usually confident demeanour replaced with a vulnerability that caught you off guard. That reminded you of times long past. She looked at you with those piercing eyes, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

"I know I’ve hurt you," she began, her voice steady but soft. "And I’ve spent the past week trying to figure out how to make it right. But the truth is, I don’t have all the answers. All I know is that I can’t lose you."

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing with each word. "Leah… I just feel so invisible sometimes. Like you’re here, but not really here. As if I am just another appointment, a chore."

She nodded, stepping closer. "I know. And you’re right—I haven’t been fair to you. I’ve let football take over everything, and I thought… I thought you’d be okay with that because you’re so strong. But I didn’t realize how much I was taking you for granted."

Her words hit you like a wave, and before you could stop yourself, you were crying. Leah reached for you, hesitating for a split second before pulling you into her arms. You let yourself melt into her, the warmth of her embrace cutting through the chill of the rain.

"I’m sorry," she whispered into your hair. "For everything. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not enough, because you are. You’re more than enough. You’re my everything."

You pulled back just enough to look at her, her face inches from yours. "I don’t need you to have all the answers," you said quietly. "I just need to know that you’re willing to try."

Leah nodded, her expression serious. "I’ll try every day for the rest of my life, if that’s what it takes."

Her lips brushed against yours, soft and hesitant, as if she were asking for permission to fix what had been broken. You kissed her back, the storm inside you finally beginning to settle.

The rain continued to fall, but for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe again. Leah was here, and so were you—together, ready to weather whatever came next.

[sunnie-angel]

Part 13: The Coworker

part 12 | series masterlist | ao3 link

jason todd x f!reader

summary: a strange holding pattern develops where nothing really happens and all you can do is bury yourself in work while jason keeps hiding things from you

tags: angst, reference to off screen violence

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.2k

a/n: more of a set up chapter before the next big plotty thing happens. umm don't throw tomatoes at me?

Jason Todd is lying to you. Or at the very least he’s keeping things – important things – from you. Knowing that, being unable to close your eyes and turn the other way anymore, it fractures you a little more in ways you had thought you were long past. Still, stupidly, you love him. You keep waiting for the day when it gets easier to breath and your stomach stops swooping anytime Jason Todd is in sight. Hope rises and falls. His kindness mixed with cruelty burns but you can’t stop drinking it down as though you’ve been days in the desert.

In some ways, not being around Jason and the friends you share is easier, not having to wonder with every stilted interaction what there is left to hold you together. Much easier then, to bury yourself in work, in school. Lose yourself to distractions until the fear and paranoia dogging your every step fade into the background with the hum of routine and the mindless chattering of people who don’t know you well enough to hurt you with their well meaning questions.

It feels silly to plan for your future when it might very well come to an end in an alley, but the thought of a next month, a next year, a next moment keeps you clinging to sanity like a life preserver. So you put your head down and work, fingers crossed that all your effort will pay off with the summer research position currently being dangled over the heads of all the English department interns. A stepping stone, maybe, to being able to work your way through grad school that certainly no one else but you and your student loan from Gotham Trust will be paying for. For 15 hours a week you can tune out the present, get lost in the daydreams and the work of building that future which rests just hazily out of your reach, beyond the taint of murderers creeping in the dark and a love that seeps like poison.

Something close to regret always passes over you when the work day ends and Jason stands at the door waiting for you. Maybe even something ugly, a twisted up anger, jagged and sharp, that buries itself under your breastbone. Your life is held together with duct tape and sticky glue, balanced precariously on one wobbly leg, but no matter what happens to you, Jason will be fine as always. In a few months he’ll have his degree and a family that apparently doesn’t hate him as much as he’s implied and he’ll go swanning back off to wherever the fuck he mysteriously appeared from. After graduation, who’s to say that you’ll stay friends at all? That he won’t move on with his life and maybe, occasionally, he’ll think fondly of the girl he was friends with for less than a year while he’s off saving the world, saving the Alley, from yet another idiot villain. The future is yours, shining and pristine, but yours alone. A shining knife that’s lodged itself in your chest and twists in anticipation of the moment when he’ll let you go.

You don’t let any of those thoughts show on your face though. Don’t want to ruin any of the dwindling moments you have left and so you bury it down inside, pack the soil down on top hard and cross your fingers that it won’t grow any poisonous fruit.

The first time you stay late, you’re apologetic when you ask Jason to come back in a few hours but there’s none of the usual claustrophobic sensation. Jaimie had asked for help and you had volunteered to give it to her, any excuse not to go home and sit in your tiny apartment and flinch at the wind outside. It’s the first time you stay late but not the last.

Really you had never intended to be so distant from the other research interns but when all the seniors are competing really for the same opportunity, one that would make or break your future plans, it’s not hard to see everyone else as competition. People to be polite and helpful to, but not people to get close to in the eventuality that they break your heart by getting the position or you break theirs. But in searching for more and more reasons to stay distracted, to prolong the moment just before you see Jason again, before you fall into his arms again begging for scraps, it’s hard not to get to know them better.

There’s sweet Jaimie with her bottle thick glasses who only started this semester, Amira with her nearly magical knowledge of the library’s cataloguing systems, and Louisa whose German accent only comes through when she gets annoyed. Stoic Miguel that never really says much but doesn’t have to in order to get his point across and Ian whose charm has even crabby Dr. Duvall smiling broadly. They’re friends, all of them, or at least on friendly terms. It’s hard not to thaw towards them when suddenly you’re making a point to spend so much time with them.

Probably, you should be on your guard. Probably, you should listen to the paranoia whispering at the back of your mind about strangers and hidden motives. But with all the lights turned on in the tucked away office for interns, the space heater warming the old bricks and mild laughter and offers of help freely given, it feels safe in a way. That this space makes them safe even if you couldn’t name their birthdays at gunpoint (you really hope you’ll never have to do that). Here you can leave all of your messy emotions at the door, all the bagging and sleepless nights forgotten in the face of people that don’t know you.

Three weeks and never once does Jason complain about the hours stretching later and later. He never mentions how your feet seem to trudge slower and slower to him where he waits at the door. How the lightness seems to leave you as you hit the cold night air. Three weeks until his patience hits its limit.

“Seems like you’ve been working more than last semester,” he drops leadingly into conversation one morning as he rolls out of the side of your bed he’s claimed for himself.

“Seems like it,” you reply as you struggle to get your bra hooked on right. He comes up behind and does the clasp for you, hovers like he wants something more he’s not sure he’ll be allowed in the bright light of day.

“I just worry about you, yeah? Don’t want you to work yourself sick with— with everythin’ else goin’ on.”

“Well don’t,” you tell him, harsh words that drip with your frustration as you dig through your drawers for a sweater. Dannika and Lina have already been on your case about all your overtime hours, not to mention Rei’s quiet concern. “Don’t worry about this, okay” You say more gently, turning back to him as you tug the sweater over your head. “Work’s the one place where I don’t have to deal with—” you gesture expansively “—all of this.” Quickly you register the way his eyes go blank and shuttered. “With the fear, I mean. No time for serial killers when I’m trying to collate lists of possible sources for Dr. Higuchi’s next book.” He nods, and then doesn’t bring it up again. 

It’s a Tuesday, so it’s only you, Amira, and Miguel working. The office is quiet without Jaimie’s constant questions and Ian’s little asides but its a cosy kind of quiet. Slowly the quality of the light changes as the sun creeps below the skyline and eventually you have to admit that there’s nothing more to keep you there for the day. You pack up simultaneously, Amira bumping your elbow with her overstuffed satchel as she swings it onto her shoulder.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t ding you too hard did I?” She apologizes. It was a pretty solid hit, the several hardcovers in her bag as good as bricks but she didn’t mean anything by it and so you don’t take it personally.

“No harm done,” you let her know, shouldering your own bag as you do.

“Any plans for tonight?” Amira asks.

“Just tackling some readings for class, nothing interesting,” you reply with the conspiratorial tiredness that all students have by this time of the year.

“Hmmm okay, what about Thursday?”

“Thursday? Why?” You ask, a tightness to your spine. She’s never asked, none of them have ever asked before. There’s been the usual how was your weekends and have a good nights but never anything this direct.

“Well most of us sneak into the grad student bar on Thursday for their trivia night and you need five people for a team only Louisa’s got that paper due Friday and probably won’t come. So, if you’re free, would you want to join us?”

“I— uhm I’d have to check?” You tell her, suddenly panicked because this wasn’t what you’d been expecting at all. Yes, you’d been getting on with your coworkers better but you hadn’t thought that you’d been getting on well enough to be invited to their plans outside of work. And yes, technically a Thursday should be fine, should be safe, no one’s gone missing on a Thursday. But to meet? Outside of the office, outside of the place you’d neatly marked as ‘safe’ with people that you barely know? “When does it— when does it usually end?�� You ask instead. “Just with everything going on I usually have a friend—” the word catches in your throat “—walk me home at night.”

“Hmmm like eleven or so?” She cocks her head. “I’m so sorry I didn’t even think of that. It’s so scary and I don’t even look like a potential victim.” Amira smiles at you pityingly and you can already feel the sympathy curdling in your stomach. “You know what, why don’t you bring them along? The teams only have to be a minimum of five but they can go all the way up to ten.”

“I’ll see if he’s free but I’ll let you know?” It’s pathetic at how easily just the thought of Jason’s presence makes you breath easier, feel more up to accepting what’s probably a genuine invitation. Amira happily gives you a number to contact and you part ways. Jason’s waiting, like always but it takes you a while to figure out exactly how to phrase your request to take up his time with something so trivial.

“I got invited out by my coworkers today,” you tell him, staring out the bus window as you speak. He’s folded himself into the aisle seat beside you, something you’d snorted about earlier and muttered about a clown car until he’d scowled from swallowing his laughter.

“Do I know any of them?” He asks, grumbling as he tries to find a position kinder to his knees.

“Maybe I introduced you to Jaimie?” You rack your brains thinking back. “Anyway, the point is they invited me to trivia night with them and when I was worried about making you wait for so long to walk me home they invited you too,” you say in a rush.

“When?” He cranes his neck to check the next stop as he asks.

“Thursday, ends around 11.”

He sighs through his nose. “If it was any other day I’d say no problem, yeah? But I’ve got a thing.”

“A thing,” you deadpan.

“Yeah, a thing,” he evades.  The two of you get off at the stop, the bus kicking up dirty slush in its wake.

“You should go, have a good time,” Jason tells you in front of your building. “I’ll make sure to be there at 11 and I’ll still make sure you get home. But you should have some fun, yeah?”

He’s hiding something again, isn’t he?

It’s silly to be so distracted by a maybe but you can’t stop thinking about it. You miss a very obvious trick question on the publication of Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, though Ian smiles very kindly when he changes the original date you had written to the date the book was first published under the author’s real name. Even without doing anything at all Jason still manages to knock you off balance. You don’t regret it, coming out with your coworkers, even if the bar starts to get more rowdy as the night goes on. That sense of safety, of oh these people won’t hurt me, isn’t restricted just to the office it would seem. Miguel still doesn’t speak very much but he smiles more and Jaimie is strikingly confident when she isn’t wrestling with spreadsheets. It’s almost, almost enough to distract you from thoughts of Jason by the time the evening is wrapping up.

You’re laughing freely at a sly joke from Amira you wish Dannika was there to hear too when you finally spot him. He’s leaning against the wall outside the building, phone still cupped to his ear when you run up to him, the snow muffling the sound of your foot steps. Even in the low lighting of the bar’s neon sign he still looks beautiful and you’re loath to disturb the moment. He’s just ending the call as you get closer, fat snowflakes catching in your hair.

“...yeah, yeah love you too Barbie.”

Oh.

a/n: on the other line, barbara's threatening to castrate jason for making dick sad

[inquisimer]

Hi, happy Friday and thank you for the welcome! Arlow de Riva/Lucanis with “I’m sorry, I’m just—I’m just really tired.” - Anonymous-Inquisitor

ty for the prompt!! Mostly fluff with some hurt/comfort (?) and subtle pining for flavor :3 for @dadrunkwriting - mild da4 spoilers, just Arlow and Lucanis being somft workaholics.

-

“Rook?”

Arlow started, blotting the parchment with the bead of ink that had been waiting too long for her to keep writing. Cursing under her breath, she set the unfinished letter aside and laid down her quill.

“Yes?” she asked, without looking up, or even really registering who had called her name. “What’s happening?”

“Arlow.” The same voice, but quieter, firmer. Finally, her brain caught up to her ears and she sighed, pinching at the bridge of her nose.

“Lucanis. What do you need? Must be serious, to get you out of the pantry.”

“If it were truly serious, I wouldn’t have waited as long as I did for you to respond to your name.” Lucanis perched on the edge of her desk and folded his arms. His brow knit together, concerned. “You need to rest.”

“Hypocrite.”

“My reasons are a little more tangible than yours.”

“Are they?” Arlow challenged. “Tell that to D’Meta’s crossing. Or—“

She broke off, glancing over to where Varric was sleeping. The steady rise and fall of his chest did nothing to ease the guilty ache in her heart.

“You cannot help anyone if you are exhausted beyond reason,” Lucanis said gently. “And what would Viago say, if he saw you so unaware of your surroundings?”

“Viago would clock me upside the head and knock me out to teach me a lesson.”

“Is that a request?”

“You can certainly try.” Her words were snippy, but they lacked their usual bite. She didn’t remember the last time she’d properly slept. Before the Crows kicked her out of Antiva, probably. With a sigh, she picked up her quill and took a fresh sheet of parchment.

“Arlow—“

“Someone has to answer Strife and Irelin,” she snapped. “Unless you have someone else that’s interested in the job, let me handle it.”

Her quill was halfway into the inkpot when Lucanis laid his hand over hers, trapping it there. She clenched her fist, irritated.

“Take a break,” he said firmly, in the voice of the First Talon’s grandson, the one that was used to deference. It made Arlow want to buck on instinct. But there was a weariness in her bones, an exhaustion in her soul that wanted to agree.

“I can’t,” she whispered. “I blink, and the world falls apart, Lucanis. I look away, and every crisis redoubles.”

She closed her eyes and steadied herself with a breath. He was close enough that she smelled coffee and cinnamon, and the odd tangle of herbs that were always drying over his cot. “This is my contract,” she said. “Could you rest until it was completed?”

He pulled the quill up between her fingers and set it aside, cupping her now empty hand in his and gently massaging the cramps she hadn’t even felt forming. “Of course not. But I would at least break for coffee.”

“Is that an offer?”

“It always was,” he said softly. His fingers stilled against hers and it took all of Arlow’s willpower to keep her hand from twitching, lacing their fingers together. She wanted that comfort. But it wasn’t something she could take so easily anymore.

“Are you brewing from your supply, or ours?” she asked, teasing. Lucanis raised a brow.

“Would you even know the difference?”

“I would,” Arlow said, affronted. “Or do you think Viago didn’t drill us in palate sensitivity?”

“There is a difference in tasting for poisons and knowing a quality brew.”

“The two have a surprising amount of overlap. Just because I’m not a snob—“

“The word you’re looking for is connoisseur.”

“Sure it is.” Arlow rolled her eyes. She capped the inkpot and stood, regretting the chill that took her hand when it slipped from Lucanis’ grasp. “Well, if you’re taking me from work, it better be from your stash.”

“It will be,” Lucanis assured her, holding the infirmary door open. “Someone has to save you and Neve from yourselves.”

“I might be at the point of saving. Neve, on the other hand—“

Lucanis laughed, a low, quiet chuckle that warmed Arlow better than any cup of coffee he promised. He slipped past her to lead the way to the kitchen, the silky samite of his vest brushing against her knuckles. She clenched her fist to keep from chasing after it.

“Let’s get something in you before you’re beyond hope, then,” he murmured, eyes twinkling. The corner of Arlow’s mouth quirked. As long as he looked at her like that, she thought, she wouldn’t be beyond anything. But she didn’t say that.

She gestured across the courtyard with her chin. “Lead the way.”

[sommerregenjuniluft]

lune, jirgin rimming, go 👇🏻

okay so….this is embarrassing because yall dont know it but this ask was from sep 26th ㅠㅠ

nevertheless. funnily enough this ask actually done some damage on me to the point where i busted out these 500words on my break at work on that day LMAO

it’s not really rimming, only leading up to it because a bitch hasn’t been able to bring herself to finish it. regardless, when @veryinnovative gets me on the topic of jirgin, jirgin he shall get

yall know the drill, explicit content ahead!

James groans, chest vibrating and knees shaking as Regulus starts sucking at his balls. Tongueing at them, one after the other and then loosely on both at the same time like it’s a fucking sensory toy and he’s not actively melting James’ brain out of his ears.

“Fuck,” he whimpers.

Regulus lets his sack pop out of his mouth. “I know, right?”

James doesn’t have to look, he can hear Regulus smirking. “Marry me, please”

“Some other time maybe,” Regulus murmurs, letting his lips skim over James’ quivering quad muscle. And James does look now, catching Regulus’ lidded gaze which is so hot it makes James’ cock tingle. “Then fuck me—ah, please.”

That earns him a wet kiss to the crease of his thigh.

“Hey, Jamie?”

James has to close his eyes again after that. “Mm.” He sounds like a slut even to his own ears.

“Y’know what we’ve talked about after last time?” There’s damp breath over his cockhead.

“After what time?” Don’t ask James anything right now, his brain is violently malfunctioning.

“Last time I fucked you, baby,” Regulus explains patienty, thumbing at his slick shaft, then his frenulum.

James hips buck with a startled moan. “I- I dunno. What did—ngh—Reg, fuck. What do you mean?”

Regulus is back to suckling at James’ cockhead, lazily, like he’s doing it just to pass some time and James is panting now. He’s panting and sweating and probably drooling precum all over Regulus’ eager and talented tongue. He’s a mess.

And Regulus is enjoying every minute of it. Regulus is ruining him and he’s having the time of his life while he’s at it. It’s all so sick and twisted and it’s making James all the more turned on.

It’s a horrible little devil’s circle.

“About how there are other ways to open you up for me than just lube and my fingers,” Regulus says.

It takes a couple of seconds and Regulus’ open mouth crafting a path down the base of him and this time even further than his balls.

“O-oh, you mean—oh.”

“Mhm,” his boyfriend confirms, again buried in the crease of James’ thigh and ass. “So?”

He remembers how they’d talked about it, laying entangled and sticky with drying sweat, kissing unhurriedly. Regulus had pulled back and then kept thumbing at James’ slack lips until he couldn’t anymore when James was smiling too hard, bone deep happy and sickeningly in love. He’d started asking James about what he liked about that time and what he wants to try again or if there’s anything more he’d like to explore next time. And when James was done Regulus had given his two cents about rimming. The proposal alone had made James hard again and Regulus had ended up riding him until he was cuming all over them again.

“Yeah,” James manages to breathe now. “I still want—yes, please.”

There’s a warm chuckle, right over James’ furled entrance and then Regulus pushes James’ legs up by the back of his thighs. “Hold onto these for me, Jamie.”

James can’t help but moan. “Fuck, love.”

Regulus stops for a moment and swipes his thumbs along James’ skin, “If you don’t like how it feels, tell me and I’ll stop. We can always do something else.”

James catches one of his hands and squeezes, “I know.”

[and then regulus proceeds to eat james out like a kitty cat would lick clean the inside of a yogurt cup<3]

obligatory @messymoony tag

[mattsmiddlepartt]

When words collide.

Warnings: arguing, cursing, angst, fluff if you squint, idk anymore.

Matt × !reader

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

The kitchen was dimly lit, the soft glow from the overhead light casting sharp shadows. Matt leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his jaw clenched so tightly you could see the muscle twitching. You stood across from him, matching his tension, your arms stiff at your sides.

“I just don’t fucking get it,” Matt said, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “Why the hell didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because I knew how you’d react!” you shot back, your voice trembling slightly.

“Oh, so now it’s my fault?” he snapped, his brown eyes narrowing. “Classic. Blame me for your bullshit!”

You huffed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “I didn’t lie, Matt. I just... didn’t tell you right away. There’s a fucking difference.”

“Bullshit!” he spat, his voice rising. “If you’re hiding something, it’s a lie, plain and simple.”

Your throat tightened as his words hit, sharp and unforgiving. “Goddammit, Matt, why do you always have to be so black-and-white about everything? Not everything is some huge fucking betrayal!”

He pushed off the counter, pacing now, his hands tugging at his hoodie strings. “You went behind my back,” he said, his voice lower but no less cutting. “You made a decision that affects both of us, and you didn’t think I deserved to know?”

“It wasn’t your fucking decision to make!” you fired back, your anger bubbling over. “Not everything in my life has to revolve around you, Matt!”

That made him stop. He turned to you, his face twisting into something you’d never seen before. Hurt. Real, raw hurt.

“Wow,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s how you see me? Some... controlling asshole who needs to know everything?”

You froze, your anger dissolving into regret as his words sank in. “Matt, I didn’t mean—”

“No, you fucking did,” he interrupted, his tone bitter now. “And you know what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe I do try too hard to be involved. But it’s only because I fucking care, okay? Because I actually give a damn about us. But if that’s too much for you…”

He trailed off, looking away as his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths.

“Matt,” you said softly, stepping toward him, but he shook his head, holding up a hand.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I need a fucking minute. I can’t… I just can’t do this right now.”

You watched as he turned and walked out of the kitchen, his footsteps heavy as they disappeared down the hallway. The silence he left behind was deafening.

And all you could do was stand there, staring at the empty space where he’d been, wondering how something so small had spiraled into something so goddamn big.

____

Matt sighed, his shoulders slumping as he pushed off the desk. Slowly, he crossed the room until he was standing right in front of you. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes softer now, though the frustration still lingered.

“I hate this,” he muttered, his voice quieter.

You blinked up at him, confused. “Hate what?”

“Fighting with you,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “It’s exhausting. And... it fucking sucks, okay?”

You felt your chest tighten, guilt wrapping around your heart. “I hate it too,” you said softly. “I hate that I make you feel like this. I just—” You paused, struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry, Matt. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “You’re such a pain in my ass, you know that?”

A small smile tugged at your lips despite everything. “Yeah, well, you’re not exactly a walk in the park either, Sturniolo.”

That earned a faint chuckle from him, the tension in the room easing just a little.

For a second, the two of you just stood there, neither sure what to say. Then, with a sigh, Matt reached out, his hands resting on your shoulders. “I’m sorry too,” he said, his voice genuine. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I just... I hate feeling like I’m not enough for you to trust me.”

Your heart ached at his words. Without thinking, you stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. “You are enough,” you said softly, your voice muffled against his hoodie. “I promise, Matt. I just... I’m a mess sometimes, okay? But you’re the one thing I’m always sure about.”

His arms tightened around you, his chin resting on top of your head. “You’re so fucking annoying,” he muttered, but there was no heat in his words—only the warmth of someone who cared too much to stay mad.

You laughed, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “And yet, you’re still here.”

He smirked, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you in line.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned into his touch, your smile soft. “Thanks for putting up with me.”

“Always,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

And just like that, the fight was behind you. Because no matter how messy things got, you both knew that at the end of the day, you’d choose each other—again and again.

Tags!🌬

@chasekeithh @sophiabirlemm @delilahsturniolo @chrisfavoritewhore

Angst idea from!: @stvrnioloslvt ♡

First divider from!: @bernardsbendystraws I think!

[hwamphwamp]

i don’t // oh seungmin

genre: established relationship, hurt/comfort, teeny bit of fluff as the comfort kicks in

warning(s): swearing, spiraling but nothing bad comes out of it

word count: 1,052

“God, I’m a fucking mess.”

The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them, each syllable thick with frustration. Another sob tore through you as you braced yourself against the bathroom counter, your reflection in the mirror almost unrecognizable. Aside from the tear-streaked cheeks, you looked fine—normal, even—but your eyes told a different story. They were hollow, empty of the joy you thought they’d hold the night before your wedding.

Happiness. Excitement. Giddy nerves. That’s what you should have felt. Instead, all you saw staring back at you was exhaustion and doubt. Months of anxiety and overthinking had piled up, and now it felt like it was too late to do anything but crumble.

“Do you want me to get Seungmin?” your maid of honor’s voice came softly from the other side of the locked door, breaking through your thoughts.

“Isn’t that bad luck?” one of your bridesmaids whispered.

“They’re getting married tomorrow. That’s insane,” another added.

“She needs him,” your maid of honor said firmly, cutting off the debate. “Fuck bad luck. She needs him.”

You didn’t even protest when she made the call. Deep down, you knew she was right. Minutes passed as your bridesmaids shuffled out of the suite, leaving only your maid of honor to keep you silent company. The faint murmur of voices outside the bathroom door announced Seungmin’s arrival. Then came the softest knock you’d ever heard, followed by his voice, steady and calm.

“I’m not going to make you open the door,” he said gently. “But I’ll be right here when you’re ready.”

Seungmin’s patience was infinite, but you knew he wouldn’t leave until you let him in. You took a shaky breath and unlocked the door, the sight of him immediately overwhelming you. His hair was tousled, his shirt half unbuttoned, and a faint pink flush lingered on his neck, evidence he’d been dragged away from his groomsmen’s outing. But his eyes—clear, sharp, and full of concern—told you everything you needed to know. He wasn’t leaving without understanding what was wrong.

“Are you okay?” he asked, stepping closer as his hands instinctively reached for you. “I got here as soon as I could. What’s wrong, baby?”

That was all it took. The walls you’d built crumbled as you broke down in front of him, the tears coming harder and faster than before.

“I… I ruined it,” you managed to choke out between sobs. “You were out having fun, and I ruined it.”

Seungmin’s hands settled on your shoulders, his grip warm and steady. “We weren’t doing anything important,” he said softly. “Just drinking a little and messing around at the beach. But what happened? You can tell me.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” you admitted, your voice breaking under the weight of everything you’d been holding in. “It’s just… everything. The wedding. Us. All of it.”

He didn’t rush you. He simply waited as you struggled to gather your thoughts. Finally, the words came pouring out.

“I don’t know if I can marry you tomorrow. Not because I don’t love you—I love you so much it hurts—but I don’t think I deserve all of this. I don’t think I deserve you. I’ve been a mess for months, and I can’t even walk down the aisle without feeling like I’m going to fall apart. And what if we do get married and everything’s fine, but then… I ruin it? Ruin us?”

“Hey,” Seungmin interrupted, his voice steady. His hands moved to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing away the endless stream of tears. “We don’t have to do this. We can cancel everything.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Cancel everything? What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ll call the wedding planner right now and cancel the wedding.”

“But…” You shook your head, overwhelmed. “You don’t want to marry me anymore?”

Seungmin let out a soft laugh, his lips quirking up in a small, reassuring smile. “Of course I do. I’ll want to marry you for the rest of my life. But not like this. Not when it’s tearing you apart.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I should’ve told you all of this sooner. I shouldn’t have said yes when you proposed if I wasn’t ready—”

“Stop,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. The warmth of his lips lingered, grounding you. “Don’t apologize for loving me. Don’t apologize for being honest. I love you, and that’s all that matters.”

He kissed your temple next, his lips brushing softly against your skin. Then your cheeks, wiping away the lingering tears with gentle care. Finally, he kissed your lips, slow and deliberate, his hands steadying your trembling frame. The world stilled, your chaotic thoughts momentarily silenced by the weight of his love.

When he pulled back, his hands remained on your face, his eyes searching yours. “Let’s leave,” he said suddenly.

You blinked. “What?”

“Let’s leave,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “We’ll pack our bags, send an email to the planner, and get out of here. Just the two of us.”

“But the wedding—our families—”

“They’ll get over it,” Seungmin interrupted. “This is our life. I don’t care if we get married tomorrow, next year, or never. I just want you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from sadness. “You mean it?”

“Of course I do,” he said, his expression softening. “Let’s do this our way. No pressure. No expectations. Just us.”

You nodded slowly, a sense of peace settling over you for the first time in months. Together, you and Seungmin began to pack, leaving behind the dress, the venue, and the weight of everyone else’s expectations. As dawn approached, you walked hand in hand out of the resort, the only witness to your peaceful exit being the young woman working at the front desk, who waved politely as you both left. The cool morning air filled your lungs with a sense of freedom you hadn’t felt in years.

The wedding didn’t matter. The expectations didn’t matter. What mattered was the love you shared and the life you were ready to build—on your terms, in your time.

And for the first time in forever, everything felt right. With Seungmin, everything would always be right.

a/n: meant for this to be the fluffiest fluff from beginning to end and ended up with this, my brain was doing a LOT last night. The word count also may or may not be a few words off 😬

next up: kwak jiseok // summer lovin’

[w0rmfreak]

Big brother comes home, stumbling drunk, he wanders into my room and plops down on my bed beside me. His hoodie reeks of weed and the smell of the outdoors, his eyes are half lidded and nearly bloodshot. I can smell the alcohol on his breath as he slurs out words.

“What are you doing?”

“Playing games.” I say, half focused on him and half focused on the tv.

“Can I play?” he asks, resting a hand on my leg.

"I'd let you… but this is my only controller."

His fingers brush against my thigh gently, his cold fingertips making me flinch. I feel his tired, heavy body leaning further against me.

“well… if I can’t play, you’ve gotta entertain me somehow…” he mumbled, his hand reaching to my stomach, gently squishing it. I huff at his touch, elbowing his hand away.

“Quit being a perv. I’m your sister.” but he doesn’t stop. He whines and shoves his face right in my chest, stomach rolls in his hands. I hear his muffled voice come from my chest,

“You are my sister!! You’re my cute, squishy, soft baby sister!!” I feel his face nuzzle between my breasts, his warm breath against my clavicle. I try to focus on my game as he makes his way to my lap.

“I can’t see!!” I grumble, attempting to maneuver myself in a way I can see the screen.

“Get off of me!!” i complain as he leans further into me, practically laying me down.

“I wanna play games with my baby sister!!” he whines, his hands making their way up to my breasts. “Like when we were kids… but now you’ve got this all grown up body…” his hands give me a gentle squeeze, and before I knew it, he was lifting my shirt up to get a better look at me.

“mmm big fat princess tits…” he mumbles before wrapping his mouth around the right one.

I squirm and writhe, somewhat fighting him but not really. His mouth is so warm and my nipples are so hard.

He finally lets go and makes his way down further. “I’ve loved watching you develop into the woman you are now.” he sighed, kissing just below my ribs, to my hips, to down right by my belly button.

His teeth graze against me ever so softly, immediately grabbing hold of the hem of my shorts. He drags them down to my ankles, his face coming back up to rest between my thighs.

“holy shit…” he muttered, closing his eyes and taking a deep inhale.

“you smell so good…” his face burying itself deeper into my soft skin, soft tongue and sharp teeth assaulting every bit of tender flesh exposed to him.

My thighs trembled and twitched as he inched closer to my throbbing pink pussy. His tongue making the gentlest contact with my clit.

“i fucking love my baby sister.” his voice muffled between my legs, his tongue pressing harder against me.

A strained moan escapes from me, assuring that he was doing more than a good job.

“st-op!” i whisper, “it’s gross! this is wrong!”

“yeah?” he said, gripping his hand around my thigh, his fingers feeling as if he’ll bruise me. “then why did you let me get this far?” my big brother grins as he assaults my clit with his thumb. “We can be done with the game when we both finish, okay?”

My cunt clenches onto nothingness, my legs shaking as his fingers slide up and down, occasionally sticking them inside, fingerfucking me until I can barely hold back my exasperated moans. “stop! stop! I don’t wanna play this game anymore!!” i whine and squirm as he pulls me closer.

My brother stands up, his bulge visible through his baggy sweats. “I said we’re done when we both finish.” His voice was sharp and demanding, hovering above my exposed body.

Letting out a sigh, he pulled down his sweatpants, nothing beneath them, aggressively grinding up against me.

“agh, I can’t go in yet… this feels too good…” he leans down, labored breaths in my ear as he grinds harder against my folds.

“i gotta fuck my sis… i gotta feel my baby sister’s pussy around me… I gotta… gotta, i gotta I-“ he groans, pulling away and lining himself up with me perfectly with one hand, as another covers my mouth. I feel him slam as hard and as fast as he can, his hand muffling my scream.

His free hand moves to my hip, steadying me as he continues to pump in and out of me, his hips moving rhythmically, almost methodically hitting all the best spots inside me.

“will you have my baby? huh sis? will you do big brother a favour and carry our baby?”

I’m lost, my brain is mush and all I can do is nod.

“you’ll do that for me?” he says, slamming his hips into mine. “nasty slut.” he laughs at me,

His face is in my neck, breathing and biting, bringing himself to the edge.

The same knot tying in my stomach, squeezing tighter and tighter, i can feel every detail of him inside me. Every inch, every vein, pumping in and out of me.

Before I can even register, his hips carve themselves against mine, leaving my legs shaking and my mind blank.

“Game is over sis…” he said, nuzzling into the crook of my neck. his cock slips out of me, and he softly replaces it with his fingers, mixing our juices together inside of me. We share DNA anyways, so what’s the big deal?

[cece693]

Why Didn't You Tell Me? (Damon Salvatore x M! Vamp Reader)

I got an ask some months ago about writing more Damon Salvatore fics and here I am delivering said request. This was something sporadically, so sorry if it's not my best work. Enjoy!

Summary: You were bitten by a werewolf after saving Damon, as usual. However, even with death looming over your head, it was comforting knowing your unrequired crush had been saved.

tags: werewolf bite, at death's door, soft Damon, open-ended, revealing feelings

The moonlight filtered weakly through the heavy curtains of the Salvatore boarding house, casting soft, pale beams over the quiet room. Damon sat slumped in a chair beside the bed, his piercing blue eyes fixed on the figure lying motionless under the thick covers. M/N—his closest friend, his confidant—was pale, even for a vampire, his usual vibrant strength dimmed to a faint glimmer. Damon clenched his jaw, the weight of helplessness bearing down on him as he watched his friend deteriorate before his eyes.

It had happened so fast, the chaos of the fight against the werewolves blurring the details. Damon hadn’t even noticed his friend was bitten until they stumbled through the doors of his home, bloodied and exhausted. Watching as M/N sagged into the nearest chair with a ragged gasp, it was there that Damon's sharp eyes caught the ugly, festering wound on his forearm. He froze, stomach sinking as he stalked forward. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Damon demanded, his voice low and filled with a tremor he couldn’t hide.

“It’s nothing,” M/N murmured, though his voice cracked, and Damon could see the sweat beading on his brow. “I didn’t want you to worry.” And now, as the hours dragged into the late night, Damon could do nothing but watch as M/N fell asleep. The pain beginning to take hold.

This couldn't be the end.

Damon's eyes burned, though he refused to let the tears fall. Vampires weren’t supposed to cry, weren’t supposed to feel this deeply, and yet here he was, on the edge of losing the only person who had ever managed to see through the mask he wore. M/N, who never judged him for his flaws but never let him off the hook either. M/N, who had thrown himself into danger without a second thought to protect him.

And now, he was paying the price.

“You idiot,” Damon muttered, his voice shaking. “Always thinking about everyone else, always putting me first. Did you think I’d be okay with this? Watching you die just because you wanted to save me?"

He exhaled sharply, his hand hovering above M/N's head before brushing through his hair, a gesture so tender it surprised even him.“You can’t do this to me,” Damon whispered, his voice breaking. “You can’t leave me here. Do you know how much you mean to me? How much you…” He trailed off, the words catching in his throat. He shook his head, his thumb brushing lightly against M/N’s temple. “You’re everything, okay? You’re—” He swallowed hard, his chest tightening. “I don’t know how to do this without you.”

The days dragged on like a cruel, unending nightmare. Each passing hour brought M/N closer to the edge, and Damon was powerless to stop it. The venom from the werewolf bite was spreading, the blackened veins crawling further along M/N’s skin, sapping what little strength he had left.

The third day was the worst. M/N’s breaths had grown shallow, his voice barely a rasp as he tried to speak. Damon was at his side, dabbing a cool cloth across his forehead, but when M/N’s bloodshot eyes met Damon’s, there was something different in them.

“Please.” He whispered, his voice cracked and raw.

“Hey, I told you, save your strength.”

But M/N shook his head weakly, his lips trembling as he forced out the words. “I can’t…I can’t do this anymore. It hurts too much.”

Damon froze, his body stiffening as the weight of M/N’s plea hit him. “No,” he said firmly, his voice sharper than he intended. “Don’t even think about asking me that.”

Tears welled in M/N’s eyes, his expression crumpling in anguish. “I don’t want to die like this,” he whispered. “Not like this. Not slowly, not in this much pain.”

Damon shook his head violently, standing abruptly and pacing the room, his hands running through his hair. “Stop it,” he snapped, his voice breaking. “Stop saying things like that. I’m not letting you go. I’ll find a cure—I don’t care what it takes. You just…you have to hold on.”

M/N’s voice was barely audible, but it cut Damon to his core. “You can’t save me.”

Damon spun back to him, his eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare give up on me,” he growled, storming back to the bed. “Don’t you dare. If you think I’m going to just sit here and let you die, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

M/N’s tears fell silently, his body trembling as he leaned back into the pillows, the fight in him fading. Damon’s heart shattered at the sight, but his resolve only hardened. He pressed a hand to M/N’s cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears. “I’m going to fix this,” he said softly, his voice trembling with emotion. “You hear me? I don’t care what I have to do, who I have to kill—I’m not losing you.”

The moments Damon wasn't at M/N's side he spent scouring every possible lead to a cure. He looked through every book, made call after call to anyone who might help, and even considered reaching out to Klaus himself, though he knew the Original would only use the situation to torment him further. Still, Damon refused to give up, the very idea of a world without M/N driving him to the brink of madness.

Every time he returned to M/N’s side, the sight of him growing weaker, his pain evident in every movement, twisted Damon’s heart further. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t think of anything but saving him. By the fifth day, Damon sat on the edge of the bed, exhaustion etched into every line of his face. M/N was barely conscious now, his breaths shallow and uneven. Damon reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly as he leaned closer.

“You told me once that I didn’t have a future,” he murmured, his voice low and raw. “That I didn’t think about what comes next, stuck on the past. Well, guess what? I don’t care about the future if you’re not in it. If you go, I go. Simple as that.”

The words hung heavy in the air, a promise and a plea all at once. Damon pressed his forehead to M/N's, his hand gripping the other's with strength as if he could anchor him to life through sheer force of will. Damon would save him—or he would die trying.

[zigrethsnotebook]

[OVERWHELMING KISS]

Bill x Reader

words: 623

tags: sfw, violence

a/n: sorry guys, i think reader snapped in this one... oops. Also, I guess the Bill ones are just all one story now, so read the other ones first? or don't, I'm not the boss of you. (oh and lmk if you think i shouldn’t tag this as sfw lol)

You woke up to the same chaos all over again. Eyeballs floating around, stacking more and more people to his throne and Gideon Gleeful now dancing in a little cage with a pained expression on his face. Bill, however, was nowhere in sight.

Bored already, you watched Gideon for a bit until you called out to him. “You can take a break, you know?” The kid didn’t stop. “No, I can’t! Bill ordered me to keep dancing.” “But he’s not here.” Gideon didn’t listen to you and continued his dance. You sighed, kind of wishing Bill was here.

He hadn’t shown himself to you once since he kissed you. That was two days ago. You laid back down. It was kind of impossible for him to avoid you completely while keeping you chained to a wall next to his throne. But that didn’t mean that he had to face you. You only ever caught his voice, some yellow glimpses if you were lucky.

Eventually, you heard that familiar voice again. He was talking to one of his maniacs who had informed him that ‘Dipper’ and ‘Mabel’ were free or something. Whoever those two are. When the nightmare creature had left the pyramid again to do god-knows-what, you decided to tempt fate.

“Bill!” The air in the room went still. “You’re a giant coward!” The room was deathly silent, even Gideon’s dance went quiet. In the blink of an eye he appeared in front of you - gigantic, seething and glowing red. “WHAT?” His voice echoed through the hall. Somehow, it didn’t scare you anymore. You were getting bored with this. With him.

“You’re a coward.” There was no need for you to raise your voice as you stated this simple fact. Bill wasn’t having it though as he yanked you upwards and towards him by the chain around your throat before flinging you backwards. Your back hit the wall with a dull thud and your motionless body fell to the floor.

Bill’s eye widened in shock as his body transformed back to his yellow, tiny self and flew towards you. “No, no, no…” His voice was tiny as his hands hovered over your unmoving form. He didn’t know what to do, panic seeping into him at the thought of having killed his favorite human in a burst of blind rage.

A soft groan left your mouth as you came to. Dull but intense pain spread from your back and neck outwards, leaving you breathless and unable to get up. Bill’s eye watered, relief flooding his mind at your obvious signs of life, when he pulled you into a sitting position. You cried out in pain as he moved you to lean against the wall.

When you opened your eyes you saw Bill, holding you by the shoulders, crying, pathetic. He moved his hands from your shoulders to your cheeks and sobbed once before transforming his eye into a mouth again and leaning in quickly.

These few seconds of believing he had lost you left him so helpless that he couldn’t stop himself when he realized you were okay. Or, well… alive. Bill kissed you, this time truly meaning it and putting all the emotions he tried to shake these past two days into it.

It was intense - good - but intense. You could taste the tears he had shed and felt him quietly sob into the kiss. It left you feeling breathless and seeing stars, which could have also been from your injuries now that you thought about it.

You wanted more of this. Something real - raw emotion. You also wanted to see him like this more often. Pathetic. Vulnerable. Starting today there was nothing you wouldn’t do to achieve this new goal of yours.

[aesthetic-uni]

Okay Arcane Season 2 Final reaction -Episode 7

I am freaking the FUCK out

In case anyone is wondering, Jinx is my favorite, I want happiness for her, don’t get me wrong I love all the others but if she’s not happy by the end of this you won’t ever see me again

Opening vinyl-I literally stopped breathing ID THAT EKKO AND JINX AGSJRBLDJ?!?!

My king Ekko, where have you been all this time. Please come home we miss you

EKKO?! And is that little drawing Jinx??

OH ALTERNATE UNIVERSE TIME BABEY so many fanfics are going to go off this I can tell

EKKO!! He looks so handsome and alive!!! (My hopes for these characters ARE VERY LOW AS YOU CAN TELL)

Jinx looks so cute!!!

BENZO!! Oh my fucking god is this going to be a Happy Universe that NONE OF THEM ARE GOING TO GET?! I’m going to throw myself off a cliff.

Oh my god no one ever address Ekko’s trauma with Benzo I’m so glad they’re doing it THAT WAS HIS DAD!!

This is cruel. This is just cruel how DARE they give us a happy au

No Netflix I will not skip the intro fuck off

AAAAW EKKO NOO SEEING EVERYTHING THAT COULD HAVE BEEN

God Jinx looks SO CUTE I need so much fanart of her

Ps I know this is technically Powder, I’m too lazy to constantly switch names so Jinx

Also does she have a pink streak in her hair? I don’t like the implications of that

Aaaaaw they’re partners :((((

MYLO AND CLAGGOR HOW FUCKING DARE YOU HOW DARE YOU HOW DARE YOU OH FUCK OH GOD

Wait omg “Trouble in paradise” TIMEBOMB?!

I have gotten through THREE MINUTES OF THIS SHOW

Oh that cute Jinxer is here woo! Lmao Mylo is so real.

Aaaw Claggor he’s trying to help the city and he cares about his little sister AND HOW FUCKING DARE YOU ARCANE

AAAW JINX TRYING TO HELP MYLO FUCKING HELL ARCANE

“WHAT WOULD THEY DO WITHOUT YOU” JESUS CHRIST ARCANE

Okay this isn’t funny anymore where’s Vi

Okay but is it OUR professor?! (I can’t spell his name)

IT IS!!

Okay but WHY what’s happening with Jayce?!

VI VI VI VI VI

OH NO JAYCE WHY CANT HE BE HAPPY TOO?!

Ooooh his HAMMER is why he got sent to the apocalypse au huh

Is that evil Viktor. Is that the Machine Herald? IS IT TIME FOR GLORIOUS EVOLUTION?!

Wow I was just joking with the apocalypse au but it really was it huh?

Aw I like that Jinx kept her workshop

Is that a heart. Around a picture of them. IS TIMEBOMB ACTUALLY CANON IN THIS UNIVERSE?!

Wait, is this THEIR WORKSHOP?!

FUCK I KNEW VI WAS GOING TO BE DEAD GOD DAMN IT

Oh this isn’t happy at all :(

OH FUCK THIS ISNT HAPPY AT ALL

WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SHOW ME THAT HOLY HELL?! OH MY GOD THERE WAS NO REASON FOR SHOWING ME THAT

Way to hammer it in Arcane for no fucking reason other than MAKING ME CRY YOU PIECE OF SHIT. LIKE I GOT IT. VI IS DEAD IN THAT UNIVERSE. DIDNT NEED TO SHOW ME HER SIBLINGS REACTING TO HER DEATH

GLORIOUS EVOLUTION HORROR

Oh god not doomed Timebomb IN THE FUCKING HAPPY AU

Poor Jayce just has to fucking go through it huh

Wow that is an understatement.

Okay but MelJayVik crumbs ILL TAKE IT

YEAH THE PERSEVERE JAYCE!!!!

NO STOP MAKING ME CRY WITH THE HAPPY AU

There’s not much I can say with Jayce other than holy fuck this poor man

God they could have been partners. They could have been the brightest minds in all of Zaun. They could have been HAPPY. I fucking hate this show why would you show me this. I’m never going to recover

HE BROKE TIME BABY!!! FOUR SECONDS BACKWARDS LETS GOOOO

God they are so in love. God this is going to kill me

Oh my god the fanartists and editors are going to MURDER me with the “Do you think we together in every universe” trend aren’t they?

SILCO?! ZAUNDADS CANON?!

Ekko hold on. EKKO HOLD ON.

Oh my god this reference to season 1 episode 4 how fucking dare you

HOW DARE YOU MAKE TIMEBOMB CANON LIKE THIS?! AURRRGGGHHHH

Ripping my hair out. Clawing my eyes out. Beating my chest until it caves in. This is everything I could ever want. HOW. DARE. YOU.

I love them. I love them so much. Why would you do this to me.

IM GOING TO BE FUCKING SICK

[sturnswrites]

dressed to impress

bf!matt x fem!reader

⤳ mdni, smut, angst, p in v, jealousy, dom!matt, and more

⤳ you help matt and his brothers with their dress to impress video and decide to tease matt until he doesn't think its funny anymore…

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

The camera blinked red, signaling it was recording. Matt, Nick, and Chris stood in front of their kitchen counter, their usual lively banter filling the air. Today’s video idea was one of Nick’s: Dress to Impress IRL. The challenge was simple—rotate through different themes, pick out an outfit that fits, and see who gets voted the best. The twist? Matt’s girlfriend, you, was joining them as a guest judge and participant.

“Alright, first theme: Beach day!” Nick announced, holding up a card with dramatic flair.

Chris rolled his eyes. “Original, Nick.”

“Hey, it’s classic!” Nick shot back.

You laughed, standing just out of frame as the boys began scrambling for their outfits. “I can’t wait to see how ridiculous you all look.”

“Oh, you’re participating too,” Matt said, pointing at you with a smirk. “No slacking.”

You mock-saluted. “Yes, sir.”

-

The beach theme went off without a hitch. Nick emerged in swim trunks, sunglasses, and an added striped beach towel for an accessory. Chris had opted for a more ridiculous look—a bucket hat, beach shirt, and goggles around his neck. Matt had gone for a simple yet stylish combo of swim trunks and a straw hat, while you wore a bright sundress over your bikini.

“I’m definitely winning this round,” Chris said confidently, striking a dramatic pose.

“Absolutely not,” Nick argued. “You look ridiculous.”

“My outfit is what you would wear to the airport before the beach!” Chris retorted.

Matt laughed, leaning against the counter. “Alright, Y/N, who wins?”

You pretended to think, tapping your chin. “I’m gonna give this one to… Nick. Mostly because he committed.”

Nick whooped as Chris groaned.

- 

As the rounds went on, the competition heated up. Themes like Rock Concert and Mix Matched Madness brought out a mix of creativity and chaos. You were having the time of your life, but you couldn’t resist teasing Matt here and there—especially since he seemed to get adorably flustered every time you outshined him in a round.

Then came the theme: First Date.

The brothers scattered, diving into their rooms to pull together their outfits. You took your time, knowing exactly what you wanted to wear—a sweet, flowy dress… with a little surprise underneath.

-

When you all reconvened, Nick was the first to reveal his outfit. “Boom,” he said, stepping out in a blazer and jeans. “Simple, classic, charming.”

Chris followed, wearing a leather jacket and black pants. “Mysterious bad boy vibe,” he declared.

Matt emerged next, wearing a sharp button-up shirt and slacks. He looked effortlessly handsome, his casual confidence making your heart skip a beat.

Finally, it was your turn. You stepped into the frame, twirling your dress with a grin. “What do you think?”

The boys clapped and nodded approvingly, but Matt’s eyes lingered a little longer.

“Very classy,” Nick said.

“Definitely beats Chris’s rock concert look,” Matt teased, earning a glare from his brother.

But as the boys debated their rankings, you leaned close to the camera and tugged your dress slightly, just enough to reveal the lacy red strap of the lingerie beneath.

Matt’s eyes darkened instantly.

“Y/N,” he said lowly, his tone half-warning, half-exasperated.

You shot him an innocent smile. “What?”

Nick and Chris, oblivious, were already heading to their rooms to change for the next round. The moment they disappeared, Matt turned to you, stepping closer.

“You know I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter, don’t push your luck,” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

Your grin widened. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He gave you a look that promised payback, but you just laughed, turning away to prepare for the next round.

-

The final theme was Zoom Call, and you decided to up the ante. You chose a matching pajama set that was equal parts cute and daring, the shorts riding up just enough to show off your legs, well, ass.

When you walked back into the room, Matt’s jaw clenched.

“Seriously?” he muttered under his breath.

“What?” you asked, feigning innocence as you adjusted the hem.

Nick and Chris reappeared, completely oblivious to the growing tension.

“Alright, let’s do this!” Chris said.

But before the camera could start rolling again, Matt abruptly stood up.

“Video’s over,” he announced, reaching to shut off the camera.

Nick and Chris both groaned in protest.

“Dude, we’re not done yet!” Nick argued.

“Yeah, we’re in the middle of filming,” Chris added.

“Not anymore,” Matt said firmly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You bit back a smile as the boys begrudgingly went upstairs, leaving you alone with Matt.

“What’s the matter?” you teased, leaning against the counter.

He stepped closer, his hands bracketing you against the counter. “You know exactly what’s the matter,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Your playful smile softened as you looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Maybe I just like seeing you worked up,” you admitted softly.

Suddenly he grabs your arm dragging you down the hallway to his room, a soft gasp leaving your mouth. 

Matt's room is dark and cold, a sharp contrast to the bright, warm kitchen where we were just filming. He slams the door shut behind you, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. You can feel his eyes on you, burning into your skin as you stand there, unsure of what to do next.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew you were playing with fire when you decided to wear this lingerie and shorts, but you didn't think Matt would react like this. You thought he would find it funny, or maybe even a little sexy. But you were wrong.

"I warned you not to tease anymore." Matt's voice is a growl now, his eyes flashing with anger. He steps closer to you, his body towering over your. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, and you can't help but feel a little scared.

But there's also something else there, something primal and raw. You can see it in Matt's eyes, and you can feel it in the way he's looking at you. He wants you, and he's not going to stop until he has you.

"Take it off." Matt's voice is a command now, and you find yourself obeying without even thinking about it. You reach around you, taking off the pajama set, letting it fall to the floor. You're standing there in nothing but your lingerie, and you can feel Matt's eyes on you, devouring every inch of your body.

"You're mine." Matt's voice is a whisper now, but it's filled with so much intensity that it feels like a shout. He steps closer to you, his hands reaching out to touch you. You can feel his fingers tracing the curves of your body, and you can't help but shiver with anticipation.

"You shouldn't have misbehaved." Matt's voice is a warning now, and you know he's not playing around anymore. He's serious, and he's not going to stop until he's claimed you as his own.

He grabs you roughly, pulling you into him. You can feel his hard cock pressed against you, and you can't help but moan with desire. Matt's lips are on yours, devouring you with a passion that takes your breath away.

He pushes you onto the bed, his body covering yours. You can feel his hands all over you, touching you in ways that make you gasp with pleasure. He's rough and possessive, and you can't help but love it.

Matt's fingers find their way inside you, and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. He's fucking you with his fingers, and you can feel yourself starting to lose control.

"That's it, take it," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "You're so fucking wet for me."

You continue to moan, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Cum for me." Matt's voice is a command, and you find yourself obeying without even thinking about it. You can feel yourself exploding with pleasure, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

But Matt doesn't stop there. 

You could feel his hard length pressing against your entrance, and you knew that he was not going to be gentle. "You're mine," he growled again, his voice raw with need. "I'm going to make you scream my name."

Matt thrust into you, his dick filling you up completely. You cried out as he began to move, his hips pistoning in and out of you. He was rough and possessive, his hands gripping your hips as he took you.

"Take it," he growled, his voice harsh with pleasure. "You shouldn't have misbehaved."

You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge again, your body trembling with pleasure. Matt's thrusts became harder and faster, his body slapping against yours. You cried out as you came again, your body shuddering with pleasure.

Matt followed soon after, his body shuddering as he came inside you. He collapsed on top of you, his breath hot against your neck.

"I think we need to be more careful about what we wear during our videos." Matt's voice is a whisper, and you can feel him smiling against your skin.

"I think you're right." you whisper back, your body still trembling with pleasure.

Matt rolls off of yours, his body spent. You can feel his eyes on you, and you know he's still looking at you with that same intensity. You know he's still claiming me as his own, and you can't help but love it.

"I'm only yours." you whisper, your voice filled with reassurance.

"And I'm only yours." Matt whispers back, his voice filled with the same emotion.

You lay there in silence for a few moments, your bodies entwined. You can feel Matt's heart beating against yours, and you know you’re in it together. 

"I love you." you whisper, your voice now filled with care.

"I love you too." Matt whispers back, matching your tone.

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

[ladyeyrewrites]

Bun in the Oven

Rated M

Chapter 2/4

2496 words

Chapter Two of the trans!Tommy mpreg episode 8X07 rewrite

Chapter mentions dysphoria and centres themes of bodily autonomy and choice though abortion is not explicitly discussed.

Read Chapter One

Read Chapter Two on Ao3 or below the cut

To Buck’s relief, Tommy was still there when he got back from the drug store with three different brands of test. He’d read that it was good to use a variety to cut down on any chance of a false result either way.

Tommy took the Walgreens bag from Buck without a word and went into the downstairs bathroom.

Buck waited.

He paced.

He tried not to hover.

He checked his watch. Minutes ticked by. More than enough minutes for Tommy to have taken the tests and for them to have shown a result.

Buck approached the door, straining his ears for any hint of what was going on inside. Silence. “Need any help?” Buck asked.

“I know how to pee on a stick, Evan,” said Tommy, tone cutting, out-of-control, highlighting just how afraid Tommy was, how uncertain.

It wasn’t a side of Tommy that Buck had been allowed to see much of: only glimpses of anxiety under Tommy’s confident façade. It almost made Buck giddy to know that Tommy was capable of slipping. It made Tommy more real, more loveable – Buck couldn’t help himself.

“I mean do you want any moral support?” Buck asked.

The bathroom door swung open, and Tommy walked out. “I can’t look,” he said, gesturing towards where the three tests lay face down on the bathroom counter.

“Do you want me to check?” Buck asked, gut clenching. He hated how hunched over and small Tommy was making himself. It was like Buck could see Tommy building up his walls, retreating inside thick fortifications as he prepared for the world to lay siege. Buck only hoped he had time to cross the draw bridge and slip through the gate before Tommy slammed it shut and started boiling the oil to fend-off perceived attackers.

Tommy hesitated before nodding.

Buck walked past Tommy into the bathroom and turned over each test one at a time. Joy and fear warred within him as he took in the result. He wasn’t sure which he was allowed to feel right now, not until Tommy had made a choice. “I was right,” Buck said. “You’re pregnant.”

Tommy’s knees buckled and hit the floor. All six-foot-two and two hundred pounds of him collided with the hard wood with a reverberating thud.

Before Buck knew what he was doing, he was sitting on the floor at Tommy’s back, arms wrapped around him while Tommy sobbed into Buck’s forearm, soaking the sleeve of another flannel shirt Buck had stolen from Tommy with tears and snot.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Buck whispered. “I’m here. Whatever you want to do, I’m here.”

They stayed like that for a long time, clinging to each other until Tommy’s tears stopped. Buck didn’t want to let Tommy go, but it wasn’t about what he wanted right now. “You don’t need to make a decision yet,” said Buck.

Tommy nodded. He took a shaky breath. “It never thought this would happen,” he said. “I mean I haven’t had a period in over a decade. I’m on birth control. We were always so careful except the one time we weren’t and that just happened to line up with when I changed doctors. So many little things had to go wrong all at once.”

“The perfect storm,” said Buck. Tommy’s sandalwood cologne tingled his senses, and he had to fight to hold himself back from leaning in and pressing his face to the back of Tommy’s neck and drinking in his scent, chasing the hint of Tommy’s natural musk that hid under the cologne and aftershave and shampoo scents. Definitely not the appropriate time to be doing that, especially since they weren’t even a couple anymore.

Tommy gave a mirthless chuckle. “We should get up before your leg starts to cramp.”

Buck appreciated the thought. “Kinda too late for that,” he said with a groan, tuning into the throb in his calf now that Tommy had mentioned it.

Tommy extracted himself from Buck’s arms, stood and then turned to offer Buck a hand up. Once Buck was standing, Tommy helped him over to the sofa. He pulled Buck’s leg up into his lap and started massaging the calf muscle. “You don’t have to do that,” said Buck.

“I want to,” said Tommy. “As a friend.”

That last part stung, but at least it was better than Tommy trying to run away and shut Buck out, so Buck let himself relax into the massage. He studied Tommy’s face and having a hard time discerning much beyond the fact that Tommy was clearly terrified. “What are you thinking?” Buck asked.

“I don’t know,” said Tommy. “That I’m scared that if I get rid of it, I’ll regret it, but I’m also scared that if I keep it, it’ll trigger all sorts of dysphoria while I’m pregnant. And I’m confused about feeling so conflicted. And angry. Sad.” He sighed. “But there’s joy? Which is even more confusing because this isn’t something I ever thought I wanted. I still don’t know if I do want it.”

“That’s a lot,” said Buck. Though he had some of the same feelings swirling around inside him as well. Scared that regardless of the choice Tommy made, he wouldn’t want Buck to be involved. Regret over not reaching out to Tommy sooner, before they’d found out, because pregnancy would skew everything Buck had wanted to say to Tommy about his thoughts on the future. Confusion about the way they’d broken up and why it had even happened in the first place when everything was going so well. Anger at Tommy – more of that than Buck cared to admit. And he was sad too. Sad that Tommy was sad.

“Yeah,” said Tommy. “And then there’s that voice that’s telling me to wait a second because what if all the tests are wrong and I’m not really pregnant after all?”

“You wanna schedule a doctor’s appointment,” said Buck. After Tommy nodded, he added. “Do you want me there?” And he so desperately wanted Tommy to say yes.

Tommy hesitated. He frowned, eyes narrowing in thought before he finally nodded again. “Yeah.” It came out as the faintest of whispers. “It’d be good to have a friend there and I am not going to tell anyone else about this unless I absolutely have to.”

And didn’t that just make Buck feel all sorts of complicated ways?

He was glad that Tommy wanted him there, but also sad because it sounded more and more like Tommy didn’t want to keep the baby and the more Buck let himself think about it, the more he found himself wishing that Tommy would decide to keep it. Not that that was Buck’s choice to make, but still; the thought was there, and he couldn’t unthink it.

“Okay,” said Buck.

“You can’t tell anyone,” said Tommy.

“I know,” said Buck.

“I mean it, Evan,” said Tommy.

And that just pissed Buck off. “Contrary to popular belief, I can keep a secret,” he said. Not that he could think of an example off the top of his head right now, but he was sure he’d kept a secret successfully at some point in his life. “Besides, if I start acting weirder than normal everyone’s just gonna think it’s because of the break up.”

Tommy winced. “Okay,” he said. “How’s the leg?”

Buck flexed. “Uh, better. Thanks.” He swung his leg out of Tommy’s lap. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah, I should go.” But Tommy didn’t move to get off the couch. He just sat there, staring at his hands.

“You don’t have to,” said Buck.

“That’s a bad idea, Buck,” said Tommy. There he went throwing up his defences again.

“Oh, so we’re back to Buck now,” Buck shook his head. “You don’t need to put distance between us just because I’m trying to take care of you.”

“I don’t need to be taken care of,” said Tommy.

“Yeah, cuz you’re definitely in an emotional state where it’s safe for you to drive.” Buck couldn’t sit still any longer, so he pushed up off the sofa and started pacing around the coffee table.

“I’ll call an Uber,” said Tommy.

“Your phone’s dead,” said Buck.

Tommy sighed. “You’re not gonna let me leave, are you?”

Buck shook his head. “Not this time,” he said. “Not until we’ve booked you that appointment and you’ve gotten some rest, and I don’t know maybe had an actual conversation about why you thought it was a good idea to break both our hearts before I – according to you – inevitably and unintentionally broke your heart.” Buck gave into some of his anger, not all of it but enough to let Tommy know he was serious.

Tommy looked like he wanted to run away again. If the door had been in his line of sight, he’d probably have been eying it.

“We’re not going to talk about it just yet,” said Buck. “You’re going to book an appointment with your doctor.” He fished his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and handed it to Tommy. “Then you’re going to take a shower and go to bed and in the morning, I’m going to make you breakfast and we’re going to talk.”

“You’re not going to let me get out of this conversation, are you?” Tommy asked.

“Nope,” said Buck.

Tommy sighed. “Fine.” He snatched Buck’s phone and booked an appointment for the following afternoon. Luckily both of them were off. It would also give them time to talk.

Then Buck ushered Tommy into the bathroom with a change of clothes and the spare toothbrush Buck hadn’t gotten around to throwing out yet. While Tommy was in the shower, Buck made up the sofa and fished out a charger for Tommy’s phone.

And then, since his kitchen was still a mess, and he had nervous energy to work out, so he started tidying up after his bake-a-thon. The brie had gone cold but was still probably edible, Buck hoped. He wrapped it up and found room for it around all the other baked goods – did baked brie count as a baked good? He stared into his fridge. There really wasn’t much else in there besides the baked goods. Nothing really suitable for breakfast, unless cake and cheese counted but Tommy had been pretty adamantly against the cheese and cake seemed like a poor breakfast choice even given the strange situation, they found themselves in.

So, Buck put in a grocery order to be delivered in the morning.

“I guess you’re not doing the whole keto thing anymore,” Tommy said, startling Buck.

Buck turned to see Tommy topless with his arms cross over his chest, his top surgery scars just visible in the shadows of his forearms.

Ordinarily, this would be where Buck would make some sort of suggestive joke and then Tommy would respond in kind and then what little clothes Tommy was wearing would somehow find there way onto the floor —

And, okay, Buck really needed to derail that train of thought stat before he got hard thinking about having sex with his ex in front of that self-same ex. “Yeah, well, kind of hard to recover from heart break without carbs.”

“Oh, come on, Buck!” Tommy actually yelled. It was the first time Buck had ever seen that, and it was kind of hot and not exactly helping the situation in his sweats right now. “We both know that you’ll be over your infatuation soon enough and then you’ll find someone better than me and I’ll just be a memory.”

“Fuck you, Tommy!” Buck shouted. “You don’t get to decide how I feel about you. Infatuation? Is that what you thought you were to me?” Buck shook his head and lowered his voice, trying to get control of himself. “I thought you were it for me. My fucking last. And you thought you were what? A stepping stone? A place holder for my true love? Just another spin around the hamster wheel? That’s bullshit.” Buck didn’t mean to start shouting again, but he was sick of pretending like Tommy hadn’t devastated him. “I wanted to make something with you, and you got scared and rather than talk to me about your fears, you pushed the blame onto some hypothetical version of me that was just using you as an experiment. And that’s not what you were to me, Tommy.”

Buck stared at Tommy, panting, and more words spilled out. “And you just left. Said what you wanted and left. Didn’t give me a chance to say anything. And that wasn’t fair.”

“I have a house, Buck,” said Tommy, still on his “Buck” bullshit. “You asked me to move in with you when I have a house. How was I supposed to take that seriously when clearly you were acting on impulse?”

“Then you tell me to slow down,” said Buck. “You don’t crash the car. Yeah, I got ahead of myself, I own that. I got excited about the idea of building a life together. And I’ll admit, I jumped the gun. Didn’t even tell you I loved you, because I’m an idiot. But I do Tommy. I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes. I love you so much that my fridge is full of baked goods that I made because I can’t stop thinking about calling you.”

Tommy’s breath hitched and Buck realised that he’d gotten ahead of himself.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was going to wait until morning, I swear. And this isn’t me trying to ask to get back together, because clearly there are other things going on, but it is me asking you to stop making unilateral decisions about things that affect both of us.”

“I really fucked up, huh,” said Tommy quietly, arms still crossed, shoulders hunched, head low.

“Yeah, you did,” said Buck. “I’m gonna go to sleep.” Fuck what they said about not going to bed angry. He trudged over to the sofa. Moments later, he heard Tommy climb the stairs and climb into Buck’s bed.

“Why are my shirts under your pillow?” Tommy called down.

Buck winced at his embarrassing break-up behaviour having been revealed. Maybe he could pretend to be asleep. Only Tommy was well aware that Buck took forever to fall asleep especially when he was worked up about something. So, Buck called back. “Finders keepers.”

Tommy chuckled and even though Buck was still angry, that chuckle maybe burned some of that anger away. Enough that he fell into a restless sleep where he dreamt that Tommy had run away again, taking their kid with him and Buck spent the rest of the dream driving across the country searching for them.

He woke with a start to a text alert telling him the grocery delivery was almost there.

Buck scrubbed a hand over his face and forced himself off the sofa, body complaining with every movement. It was going to be a long-ass day.

@silversky9 @unhingedangstaddict @ironspiderdad12 @beanarie @sporadicmakerwerewolf @azaharinflames @aisatsana441 @bugboybuck

[liaromancewriter]

Favorite Ex

Premise: Ethan runs into an old flame, and it brings some much-needed closure for both of them.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Angst. Words: 1,570

A/N: Submission for @choicesmonthlychallengenov2024 prompt day 26: "regret" and @choicesprompts Angstgiving prompt "what could have been"

Ethan Ramsey needed a drink.

The annual National Medical Symposium in Miami, with its focus on cutting-edge medical advancements, had been interesting enough. Still, the obsequious flattery that went hand in hand with his increasingly rare visits to medical conferences got on his nerves. He couldn’t care less about what others wanted from him, but after all these years, he knew how to play the game.

Naveen would joke that with age, he’d gained maturity and wisdom. His wife would just snort and proceed to tease him about getting soft until he took her to bed just to prove her wrong.

She pushed him out of his comfort zone. And for her, he was willing to embrace the unknown.

A few years ago, he hadn’t been so… flexible. He reflected absently, walking into the busy hotel bar and scanning the room for an empty seat.

Or as willing to admit that he needed someone to come home to. Someone who understood him and filled the empty holes in his heart. He couldn’t deny it anymore, not even to himself.

Seeing a patron settle his tab and leave, he rushed to grab the padded bar stool. His shoulders dropped at the thought of sipping smooth whiskey while decompressing by exchanging sexy texts with his wife.

Should’ve insisted she accompany me, Ethan thought wearily, raking one hand through his hair.

He placed his phone on the bar, smiling as he often did at the sight of their wedding picture on the screen. He traced one finger down her laughing face, the photo a reminder of the moment she'd insisted he smile—really smile—for once.

He wondered when he’d become such a sap. Maybe she was right, and he was getting soft in his forties.

“What’ll be, sir?” The bartender asked hurriedly.

“Whiskey, neat.”

Ethan froze at the familiar voice behind him. He hadn’t heard it in years, but he’d know it in a dark room with his eyes closed.

Surprise had him swiveling on the stool to face her. Sparkling green eyes met shocked blue ones.

The years fell away as if no time had passed since that fateful night at Donahue’s when she’d correctly guessed his drink order on her first day as an intern at Boston’s Edenbrook Hospital.

“And don’t be stingy,” Dr. Cassie Valentine said, a smile tugging at her lips. “Judging by the look of him, it’s been a three-finger kind of day.”

“Hello, Dr. Ramsey.”

Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat, refusing to come. He inclined his head in greeting instead, a poor acknowledgment of the woman who’d been the first to breach through his walls.

The one who’d made him break all his rules and not give a damn about the consequences.

His mind flooded with memories. The quiet intimacy of watching the snow fall outside as they cuddled after making love. The warmth of holding hands on their way to Derry’s for coffee and a stolen moment of peace. The thrill of sneaking glances across the diagnostic team’s office despite their resolve to keep things strictly professional at work.

If it hadn’t been for his temporary but all-consuming love affair with Cassie, would he have even given Joanna a chance?

Ethan hoped the answer was yes. He loved his wife, and it would be an incredible disservice to what they meant to each other for him to believe otherwise.

“Still a man of few words, I see,” Cassie teased as she slid into the empty seat beside him, resting her chin lightly on her hand.

“You know me well,” he said gruffly, swallowing the lump that had lodged in his throat.

“I thought I did,” Cassie cooly inclined her head, but the laughter in her eyes betrayed her. “I still can’t believe you’re here. Remember when we attended this conference when I was an intern?” She giggled. “You hated every minute of it and weren’t exactly shy about saying so.”

Ethan hunched his shoulders. “I wasn’t that bad.”

He had a very different memory of that time. It had nothing to do with the symposium and everything to do with a moonlit balcony and his morals drowning in the heady scent of her perfume.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, you were!”

The bartender returned with his drink, setting the lone glass in front of Ethan. The man looked questioningly at Cassie, but she shook her head.

“Not in the mood?” Ethan asked as he lifted his glass.

“Can’t,” she said, placing one hand on her belly.

Ethan stilled, a mix of complicated emotions he didn’t dare examine too closely surging through him.

Whenever he thought of Cassie, which wasn’t as often now as it had been in those early years, he still saw the resident who worked side by side with him during the day and slept in his bed at night.

The one he’d fallen in love with but could never confess the words to because there was a timer on their relationship. When her residency ended, she’d move on, ready to conquer the medical world with her amazing diagnostics instincts. And he’d be left behind. Again.

So, he’d held back and let the words fade into the ether.

It had been for the best, Ethan reasoned. Her eventual departure hadn’t lessened the hurt, but it had been cleaner.

He hadn’t been looking for love again, but one day, he bumped into a red-haired chef at the farmer’s market, and his life tilted on its axis. Literally, in this case, since he found himself falling to the ground and grabbing her on his way down.

So, he burned his dreams of what couldn’t be and allowed himself to believe in a new and permanent love.

In the last few years, he’d heard of Cassie’s accomplishments; her groundbreaking research, the accolades that followed. The diagnostic medical community was small, after all. He’d felt pride at seeing her star rise, convincing himself that was all it was. Just pride. Nothing more.

Until now.

“Congratulations,” he said softly, the word heavier than it should have been.

He forced a smile, willing himself to ignore the ache that stirred, a reminder of what could never be. He had made peace with it. Or so he thought. Yet here she was, and peace felt like a lie.

“Thanks,” Cassie said with a wistful smile. “I’m still in my first trimester, so we’re keeping it on the DL.”

She tilted her head, her gaze dropping briefly to the wedding ring on his left hand. “You’re married?”

“Yes. Two years next month.”

A silence fell between them—heavy, unfamiliar, and uncomfortably awkward. The rowdy laughter of a group of physicians erupted nearby, breaking through the tension like an unwelcome intrusion.

Cassie glanced toward the noise, her lips twitching into a faint, distracted smile before her gaze returned to him.

Ethan fought to keep his gaze steady, trying and failing to ignore the curve of her lips or the way her stylish blonde hair framed her timeless features. He remembered its softness against his skin as she nestled against him before drifting off to sleep, their hands still touching when they woke the next morning.

Joanna wasn’t into cuddling. She was often too tired after a long night at the restaurant and preferred sleeping on her side, her back to him.

Until this moment, Ethan had forgotten he enjoyed the intimacy of a lover wrapped around him. Cassie had once called him a world-class snuggler, and he’d cherished the title as if he’d won a Nobel Prize.

They had been happy. So, why couldn’t they make it work?

“Are you happy?” she asked eerily, picking up on his ambivalence.

He wanted to say yes. He was happy. Hadn’t he been reflecting on just how much a mere ten minutes ago? So, why was he hesitating?

Shame spiraled through him. He adored Joanna, and he loved their life together.

And yet, a part of him still wondered about the road not taken. Maybe it was time he stopped.

He drew in a long breath. “What happened to us?”

Cassie slid him a guarded look. Her fingers curled and uncurled in her lap.

Ethan didn’t think she’d respond and opened his mouth to take the words back.

“You never asked me to stay.”

He sat back, poleaxed.

“We went from gold rush to cold touch,” Cassie said, sadness clouding her features. “As my residency was ending, I could feel you slowly pulling away from me. And still, I waited for any word from you, something to give me hope that we had a future together.”

Ethan could hardly move, let alone speak at the confession.

“You were my best nights and my worst. I cried myself for weeks after, and then I let us go.”

Cassie slid off the stool and smoothed down her dress. “I’m glad I ran into you. I’ve wanted to say these words to you for the longest time but never had the courage.”

Her eyes softened as she took a step back. “You will always be my favorite ex. Goodbye, Ethan.”

And then she was gone, her scent lingering until that, too, was an ephemeral memory.

“And you will always be mine,” he uttered silently, reaching for the phone and the one he had chosen to be his forevermore.

He and Cassie were finally where they belonged. In the past.

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

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @justyourusualash

@lady-calypso @kyra75 @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect

@queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @snoopdogcone @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

@thosehallowedhalls

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

[daydreaminglifelesslove]

Well isn’t that one if not the only most expected in some cosmically funny way and yet also the most mentally and emotionally fucked up versus ever. There might be an expected outcome to how this ends, maybe not.

If there is: For c!Etho to outlive and win with the guilt and emotions and need and regret of the guy he loves so, so much. Willing to use whatever it takes. And yet, in the end he promises a life a piece of himself and soul to bring him to yellow for a kill. Bringing his path straight to the very Red Life (Grian) who accidentally and/or purposefully murdered two Reds (his best friend, his ally’s) for betrayal and killing your own before. Least Impulse or Grian who was voted out of this poll can’t take Bdubs away from him now. It’ll have to be him or Bdubs who wait for a day as the votes tally who survives and the hourglass time runs out like every other time before and who it’ll feel like their own personal hell and punishment of doing the deed themselves: stabbing the person’s heart and soul again, until they’re gone. Bdubs had outlived Etho twice…in 3rd, for at least an episode and a half. And double life? not for very long at all. Etho gets to know something like those moments so well. Even if the family dynamic of the Clockers is weird, Bdubs is still loyal to him, and to the family. And yet we never do see those complete and the hidden moments in his perspective, it wasn’t made, it sucks and I understand and yet it’s also so interesting. Perhaps they both could never live long when the other is dead.

Anyway I’m may be going off and be busy today but if anyone after or before the poll is done wants to write or/and draw really any of the vs but especially this one much appreciate. Still might sketch something if I can, will not be totally quick like some more talented people in a few hours time to make and finish a well done piece. Still if i do it, it’ll be an experience either way. Even if I don’t finish till the polls completely done.

Anyway I went off my mind about c!Ethubs. It’s incredibly funny. Even though it also makes me go feral rabid and in pain. Even though the series are over. God they’re so fucked up and wonderful and codependent and deeply tragic. I do not know who to pick. Both options and the end picture in my mind are sad and bad in a good painful way. So I’ll just decide later.

Also have strike through and not propaganda ig.

MCYT RELIGIOUS GUILT OFF R3 MATCH 2

BDOUBLEO100 (HERMITCRAFT/3RD LIFE) VS ETHOSLAB (LAST LIFE)

BdoubleO100: "i keep thinking about him not posting his perspective and being a resource monkey for the clockers. he’s doing penance… feeling guilty over what’s to come… working himself to the bone as punishment for sins he hasn’t even committed yet………. something about this block character reads as though he has some enormous deep-seated shame that even he’s barely aware of. perhaps he feels the weight of all the souls he took in past life series and has no idea what to do with that burden so he throws himself into work and loyalty as if to earn some form of redemption even though he already knows how this story ends."

Ethoslab: "Oh, y'know"