#but in between the end of this school year and the start of next im full-time at summer camp and i got that Promotion so…learning a new role

[hijinxinprogress]

12 year old tim realizing robin’s not coming back to gotham and deciding that it’s Batman’s fault so he has to ruin the little bit of sanity and peace of mind Bruce has managed (read: struggled) to keep in his grasp:

[kohakhearts]

lately ive been thinking a lot about goh’s parents. and all i have to say is . theyre kinda bad <3

[burningcomputerpersona]

was getting a twelve pack of beer a bad idea? probably. am i enjoying it though? absolutely.

[jjkbambi]

frat flu luigi mangione x virgin!reader 18+

summary!!! (smut inspired by this request) you’re set to interview frat president luigi mangione for the penn newsletter!

note: fratboy!luigi but not reallyyyy associated to that cheating demon storyline. written as a standalone but could be seen as a prequel if you squint. unedited but happy new years

warnings: long fic cuz we need a reason to be fuckin, sad bc luigi’s sad, comfort, an attempt at fluff, and of course smut, dubcon (he grinds on you while you’re sleeping), so dry humping, p in dis v (VIRGINNN)

luigi mangione, as described by his fraternity brothers: “cool,” “mega smart,” and “totally chill.” all phrases you could blindly draw from a hat to describe a stranger walking down the street.

surely, this couldn’t be your debut in penn today. a spotlight on the brightest mind on campus, phi kappa psi fraternity president luigi mangione. top of his class at a mysterious luxury private high school, started a hash brown business at sixteen, and, according to his linkedin, volunteers at local libraries, elderly homes, and animal shelters during breaks back home. he’s got a first aid/cpr certification, a bartending license, and a squeaky clean record.

“he doesn’t even complain on yelp,” you groan.

your friend, lacy, sits in the drivers seat, shaking her head. “maybe he’s just nice.”

you shoot a glare at her.

she raises her hands, defensive. “i’ve only heard good things!”

“oh, well, if he was really so nice, he wouldn’t have canceled on me a hundred and one times.” as if he’d heard you, your phone pings—his name flashing on the screen.

from luigi Hey pretty! Something came up today. So sorry. Can I see you another time?

“one hundred and two,” you declare, showing her your phone screen. at this point, it felt less like inconvenience and more like cruelty. his constant rejections, delayed responses, and last-minute reschedules were a relentless reminder of your looming failure to finish the piece on the phi kappa psi house. journalism club was going to fucking kill you.

“y/n, he literally could not have been nicer.” she finally puts the car into park. the both of you look outside.

frustration had been simmering for weeks, growing with every missed promise. almost two months ago, he’d smiled big and earnest, assuring you he’d meet for the interview—yet here you were, still waiting. the distance between you two seemed to stretch with every passing day, and you couldn’t summon the energy to pretend you still cared for niceties.

you’re outside his fraternity house, calling him, he surprises you by answering almost immediately, his voice low and hoarse, like he’s just woken up. “hello?”

“hi, it’s y/n.”

“oh,” he says, tone dipping as he cleared his throat. “hey, how are you?”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt. “i just wanted to talk—”

“yeah, i know ‘m sorry,” he tells you, sincerity to be debated. “i’ve just been a bit all over the place these past few weeks.”

lacy mouths, “im staying in the car.”

nodding, you hop out, a familiar sense of anticipation lingering. it’s not your first time at the fraternity house, but each visit feels different. the mansion, though grand, has a worn charm—earth-toned walls and overgrown grass, with boys constantly darting across the yard. trash cans overflow with aluminum cans, remnants of the never-ending chaos.

“no, i get it, i do. i, you know, am busy all the time.”

“oh, i’m sure,” he says. “are you free next weekend?”

you didn’t even have to check your schedule to know you were free. but you were already here. “well, actually, i just, um…” you feel a bit of your confidence deflating as you trespass their yard. your face flushes and you suddenly feel the eyes of the other brothers staring at your silhouette like curious dogs, unsure of whether to bark or bite. “i was just passing by the neighborhood, i was wondering if i could come over now?”

he yawns. “what? you mean right now?”

“is that alright?”

“how far away are you?”

“yeah, uh, i’m outside your front door.”

“oh?” he says, clearly taken off-guard. the embarrassment finally settles in. what the hell were you doing?

“you know what, never mind. i’m so sorry,” you flush, spinning on your heel and rushing down the steps, avoiding eye contact with the other guys.

you’re not sure if it’s your heart stopping or the phone call ending, but it’s in that moment that the blackwood door opens. you turn around, and the brown-haired boy steps through, looking disheveled, with dark bags under his eyes as if he hasn’t slept. though, despite that, he’s in gray sweatpants and a long sleeved black compression shirt.

“y/n, come on in,” luigi says, his voice booming, almost too loud for the quiet pennsylvania street. he glances toward the team of players in the front yard, bringing attention to you all over again. “this is the journalist for the penn.”

you shuffle up the steps again. “it’s called penn daily.”

“right,” he nods, eyes searching your body up and down. “you want a jacket?”

you’re in leggings and a tank top. you’re shivering. “no, no, i like the cold.”

the brown-haired boy shakes his head, grabbing one off the coat rack anyway and tossing it over to you.

“you’ll like the jacket even better.”

as he guides you through the house, the weight of the silence surrounds you. you’ve only ever seen the place during parties—neon LED lights casting strange shadows, tables covered in empty Solo cups and suspicious piles of random powders. it always felt like a place of unrecognizable chaos, where everyone was too busy to think about much else but the next round of shots or whatever game they were playing. but today, in the quiet of the late morning, the house feels different. the lights aren’t flashing, the music isn’t blasting, and there’s no throng of people rushing around. it feels oddly intimate, even though it’s still just as cluttered as always.

“is this what it looks like clean?” you ask, only half-joking.

“be nice,” luigi barks, tone plain as he rolled his eyes in faux annoyance. “we had a long night yesterday,” he gestures to the crowds of twentysomethings outside, one group cleaning off the mountain of soda and beer cans off the plastic gray tables, the other playing ping pong. “another long night ahead. you should come.”

the invitation doesn’t sway you, you’re distracted by his face. though his curly hair is neatly cut, and his chocolate brown eyes hold a quiet, dark intensity. his tall frame fills up the room, the way he stands commanding attention without trying. his features are sharp, framed by thick eyebrows, and his smile is small, barely there, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. he offers it to you as if it’s expected. there’s an underlying feeling you can’t shake. it’s like you can tell it’s forced. you’ve seen enough of him in passing (and in stalking) to know this isn’t the usual “luigi” you’re used to seeing at parties or around campus.

you bite the inside of your cheek. “you know, if today’s a bad day, you don’t have to—”

“no, babe, it’s fine,” he says, the term rolling off his tongue like it’s second nature.

in the short time you’ve known him, you’ve picked up on his knack for nicknames and gathered you probably shouldn’t be flattered—all the boys in this frat were entirely too flirty.

he pushes the door to his bedroom open, stepping aside to let you in. “shouldn’t take too long, right?”

“sure,” you lie as you slip past him, fingers brushing over the notepad tucked in your back pocket, your mind racing with questions you’re suddenly too aware of.

“well then, it’s no rush,” he says.

quickly, you notice the collection of allergy medication at his desk. a heinous amount of nyquil, half-empty bottles scattered among crumpled tissues and unopened water bottles. it’s almost comical, the way his organized chaos betrays the “untouchable golden boy” image you’d pieced together. his desk, once probably neat and deliberate, now looks like the scene of a losing battle against the flu. curious, you ask, “bad fever?”

luigi laughs dryly. “something bad, that’s for sure.”

you feel yourself sink at the admission. instinctively, you reach up to feel his forehead, your fingers hovering just shy of his skin. it’s a simple gesture, something you wouldn’t think twice about doing for one of your roommates, but as soon as your hand makes contact, he stiffens, his body recoiling ever so slightly. the movement is subtle but enough to make you hesitate, pulling your hand back as his lashes flicker up to meet yours.

“jesus christ,” you gasp. “you’re burning up.”

luigi doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze lingering on you just a moment too long, his eyes a little softer than usual.

“think i’ll be fine,” he says, but there’s an edge to his voice, like he’s trying to brush it off. it feels more like he’s saying it for both of you than for himself.

a pang of guilt hits you hard—a reminder of how you’d pushed for this interview while he was clearly feeling terrible. all those ridiculous, relentless messages, the nagging about deadlines while he was probably just trying to get through the day. god, you feel like an idiot.

you cup his cheeks, serious. “you should really get to bed.”

“what, and miss the privilege of being interrogated by the penn’s finest?” he teases, leaning into you. you’re struck at how warm he was, how utterly unprofessional you were coming off as, how awful it would be to pull away.

the article, you remind yourself, inching away. “if you pass out mid-question, it’s not going to make for a great article.”

“least i’ll be a shoo-in for the sympathy vote next semester,” luigi says with a wry chuckle, his tone light but laced with something deeper as he glances back up at you, almost as if testing your reaction.

“come on,” he reaches for your hand when you frown, interlocking your fingers and swaying you. he doesn’t pull you too close, something about the way he’s looking at you has you sure he’ll never give you the satisfaction, but your fingers interlock and there’s a hint of a smirk playing at the edge of his lips, smugness plain. “i couldn’t let you walk out here so fast. you know what they would say about me if they thought i let down a pretty girl like you?”

you feel your face go pink but your ego won’t let his flirting power last. his forehead was burning hotter than sauna, he probably didn’t know what was even happening. “you look like you haven’t even slept,” you say, matter-of-factly. “would you just sit down?”

“trust me, this headache’ll be gone before you can even say sto meglio con te,” he says, his voice a little softer than usual.

he grins as your brow furrows. “you could put that in your article. successful, speaks italian, looks like shit.”

“i didn’t mean that. i’m just worried.” ignoring the fluttering in your stomach and his persistent gaze, you turn your phone over. “i could order you some soup. there’s a really nice pho place down the road—”

“what’re you, my girlfriend?”

“mangione,” you sigh. “you’re being impossible.”

“baby,” he says, the word slipping from his lips with a teasing familiarity that catches you off guard. it pierces straight through your ego, sharp and unexpected. “i promise, ive got way more interesting things to talk about than allergies. come on, ask me.”

before you can react, another voice calls from outside, and you hear hurried footsteps approaching the door. luigi hesitates for a second, glancing at you. a younger group of fraternity brothers peeks in, looking urgent.

“hey, we’ve got a problem with the fundraising paperwork—someone made a mistake with the donations, and it needs to be fixed or we’re going to miss the deadline,” one of them explains, his voice tight with stress.

“who was in charge of that?” luigi asks, a lilt of accusation in his tone.

the younger twentysomethings look around, feigning innocence, avoiding eye contact. “whatever, it doesn’t matter,” he mutters, rubbing his eyes. “i’ll take care of it.”

he squeezes your hand before he leaves the room, saying, “stay put for me.”

so you sit on his navy blue bed, stiff and idle, your mind wandering as you wait. you text lacy and tell her you’ll catch up with her later as the constant sound of chaos fills your ears. you hear the house scrambling through the halls and luigi’s answering calls and questions, directing people, moving them out the way. the speakers for the party this weekend just got delivered, the delta 3 girls are inviting them to volunteer at their annual car wash, and there’s a leak in the basement that needs immediate attention. after what feels like hours, you can’t keep your eyes open anymore. exhaustion pulls at you, and without even realizing it, you fall asleep on his bed, the rhythmic noise of his busy life buzzing around you.

“y/n,” luigi exhales as he finally re-enters the room, his exhaustion evident in every step.

he’s greeted at the sight of your body sprawled across his bed, eyes fluttered shut with his jacket blanketed over your silhouette. he’s not so sure what comes over him, but he locks the door. your peaceful slumber is a stark change from the drunk mayhem on the other side of the door, and he’s intent on keeping the peace. the bed dips under his weight as he sinks down beside you, too tired for niceties. without a word or a second’s hesitation, he pulls the jacket off you and brings your tired body closer to his.

it starts off innocent. his arms are wrapped around your stomach, your body limp against his. he cradles into the nape of your neck—and you’re so soft and you smell so good, he can’t help himself. he tells himself he won’t take it too far. starting with small, sweet kisses against the side of your neck, almost tickling you out of your unconsciousness. you sleepily squirm under his hold and he’s straining in his sweatpants before he can make sense of it.

“you’re so pretty,” luigi whispers. it would be a waste, really, to have you this close without touching you. using you.

he grinds his hips against your plump ass. he’s so fucking hard, he really can’t help it. he has to have you, but he can’t bring himself to wake you—you’d been so sweet to him earlier, doe eyes wide with concern—he figures he has to return the favor somehow, right? letting you nap in his bed feels like the least he can do.

“you’ve got no idea how often i lose my mind thinkin’ about this, about you,” he confesses. the noise outside is loud, chaotic—a world away from the quiet intensity between you. it’s too loud for anyone else to know of the secret unfolding here, in the space of his touch and the weight of his gaze.

he’s rougher now, tightening his grip on your hips as he jerks himself into you. you were so worried about him earlier. you’d want this, wouldn’t you? to help him out, make him feel better?

his defense of plausible deniability falls apart piece by piece. one of his hands stray from your hip to your clothed core, rubbing you, desperate for friction. he groans into your back. you were wet, he was sure of it, he had to make sure of it. he slips his hands down your leggings and rushes to palms your wetness. he has to make sure you’re feeling just as good as he was.

you shudder at the touch, slowly bringing yourself from rem to reality. the room is hotter than you remembered, and you almost shriek as you realize luigi’s hands had been all over you. he’s quick to put his hand over your mouth, talking in your ear, “‘m sorry baby, couldn’t resist.”

his sloppy wet kisses are hot against your neck, so frantic, so desperate, so needy, his stubble unnerving you as you squirm under his hold. you can hardly make sense of what’s happening. “luigi.” you mewl as he grinds his clothed cock into you. “what’re you doing?”

he moans at the perfect blend of innocence and surprise twined through your voice. its undeniable now — he can’t spend another second not experiencing you.

“you said you wanted to make me feel better, yeah?” luigi grunts. before you can respond, he’s slipping a finger into your wet pussy. you jolt at the wild unfamiliar storm that grasps you, trying to turn your head over to him, to look at him, to ask him what the hell had gotten into him. he kisses you when your head tilts, his free hand wrapping around your throat.

“that’s so much fuckin’ better,” he tells you, stretching your core out with another two fingers. he’s so eager—so intent on making a mess of you, you’re almost humiliated at how easily you fall apart underneath.

you quiver and shake, and try to twist out of his groping hands, but he doesn’t budge, pressing harder into you. “you’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart,” he swears.

“luigi,” you cry, helpless. the friction felt so hot it made you light-headed. the pleasures storms out any logical part of you. “i don’t—i don’t know what to do.”

of course you don’t. you were entirely too sweet, too well-meaning, too fuckin’ stupid to realize how badly he wanted you. running up to him after his gym workout, bright-eyed as you asked him to hang out. not on a date, not even as friends, but for a stupid fucking college paper. he should’ve taken you right there, in the parking lot, let you scream on it so loud the entire campus knew you were his, saved all this goddamn time.

“you’re a fuckin’ virgin?” luigi asks. he needs to hear you say it.

he rips his hand from your aching cunt and you cry out at the loss of friction.

“yes,” you pout.

“any good journalist knows to use specifics.” you see a cocky grin etch onto his lips before he flips you over and brings you in for a proper kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as he sinks into you. you kiss him back. you wanted this, whatever it was. “tell me again.”

“i’m a virgin,” you admit, reddening.

he smiles against your cheek before kissing you again—“been waiting for me, yeah? you want me to take you?”

“luigi, please.”

“what’s that?” he says, cruel.

you pout again and try to please him, rushing into another kiss. he captures your lips gladly, but refuses to bring you to the satisfaction of salvation.

all too mean, he points out, “you don’t even know what you’re begging for.”

at this point you were sure you could get drunk off the warmth of him. if you bucked up into the air, you could feel his bulge raging against his sweatpants.

“i want you,” you whine. “i mean—i just—i thought you wanted me too..?”

“of course i do. look at you.” luigi grunts before he strips off his shirt, ripping down your leggings with a force that pulls your body down the bed with him. his dark gaze drifts down.

you flush at the sight of the wet mess all over your legs. “you did all that just for me?” luigi mocks. “you want me that fuckin’ bad?”

“yes,” you have no idea why but you do. you can’t imagine a world where you walk away now and never experience him.

luigi never had any intention of being nice about this. his morals and his plans for the night unraveled the moment his eyes found you sprawled across his bed. harshly, he grips your hips—sure to leave marks, hoping for it—before pounding the entirety of his length into your purity.

the stretch scorches, searing into you. you see white, red, and hell all at once. “luigi—!” you cry out.

“you’re so good,” luigi assures. he tries to pace himself as you fall apart underneath him. he tries he tries he tries—but your inexperienced pussy molds around him, so perfect and wet, he can’t help himself.

you feel everything but perfect. unnerved and wild and overwhelmed, whimpering underneath him like a sick puppy. he fucks into you like he’s itching to see if you’ll break.

“it hurts,” you whine.

“you look so fuckin’ pretty with your legs spread,” luigi says. “can’t get enough of this perfect pussy.”

you paw at him, desperate for sacred ground, grip landing on his arms, hard and toned underneath your fingertips. he smirks. “feelin’ me up, sweetheart? you like my arms?”

the sound of skin slapping overtakes your corner of the world. you’d seen him before, but never like this. you’ve never had anything like this.

“luigi.” you whimper. “i can’t, you’re so big—”

“i know, pretty, i know,” he murmurs, kissing the running wet tears down your cheeks. “d’you remember the night you went up to me after the gym? d’you remember what you were wearing?”

you can’t help but claw your fingers deep into his arm muscles, desperate to find a vice for the pain. “oh my god,” you gasp. he pounds into you relentlessly and before you realize, you’re rolling into waves of foreign pleasure.

“stupid fuckin’ tank top,” luigi groans. pleasure storms you as he gets more brazen. he pulls down your camisole, lapping at your tits, biting you, marking you. “wind blew over and i got to see your perfect fuckin’ nipples. wanted to tear you apart right there.”

“what? really?”

“had to jack off in my fuckin’ car thinking about you, about this,” he murmurs before smashing his mouth back onto yours—and this time, you feel more prepared to bear it, melting into his warmth, lips perfectly reunited. you’re shivering under the heat. he fucks you hard into the mattress, hellbent on breaking you in. you’re sure he’s accomplished it already. you’re dizzy and light and on top of the goddamn world.

he sees through you. “fuckin’ close?”

“i-i think so—”

“so fuckin’ stupid,” he muses. “stupid fuckin’ virgin, doesn’t even know when she’s gonna cum.”

“you’re so mean,” you whine.

“yeah, you think so?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous as his hand strikes your cheek. the sting blooms like fire, another cruel signature of his dominance, a mark left behind in his endless quest to tarnish the golden purity you wear so effortlessly. his wicked touch moves down to your delicate clit and the sparks of pleasure turn into storms. you’re done for, waves of white gushing around him as you cry out his name.

“oh god,” luigi groans. “such a good girl, creamin’ on it like that. so perfect.”

the jolt of pleasure within you only makes you more sensitive. this time, when his hands return to your body, they’re clamped around your neck. he’s pulling into you, punishing your delicate cunt. as you quiver and froth, his thrusts grow sloppy and he rasps again—this time more guttural, more intense—and soon enough you feel his huge cock twitch inside of you, sending streams of his seed into your stomach.

he joins your silhouette on the bed, his warmth melting into yours as he pulls you close. his arms wrap around you, steady and secure, and his lips press softly to your forehead.

“‘m sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice low and soothing. “didn’t mean to get so rough.”

you struggle to find the breath, then the words, “no, i—i think it was fine.”

he looks at you, his smile fading into something more thoughtful, his gaze deepening with quiet admiration. “just fine?” he asks, his voice laced with a hint of playful disbelief.

you meet his gaze, your heart fluttering, and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you hum,

“penn’s finest.”

MASTERLIST ! leave me suggestions and review me <3

[recordingmae]

JJK men x reader

you do the ‘calling my ex to say goodnight’ trend and see their reactions!

characters; Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Sukuna Ryomen.

Might do another version!

Author; I’m actually so excited about this little Drabble! I think the trend is actually so cute and it definitely brings relationships back together😭 also this is a lil test for my writing for Megumi! let me know what your think and my Requests are OPEN!! Also sorry but yes this took me 3 freaking days to write

Satoru, G.

being a Tik tok creator was rather easy- but sometimes it did lead you to make some nerve-wracking decisions.

You propped your phone up against a small stack of books on the coffee table as you leaned back into the leather coach.

Your hands gripped a bit tighter around the home phone as it Rang. Holding back your shy giggles in front of the camera.

after about 2 more seconds you hear a voice, his voice, and your stomach slightly drops as he answers.

“Heyo!”

you stay silent for a moment before taking in a deep breath. A little scared to find out if he sounded so normal because he didn’t remember your home phone number, or if he knew it was you calling.

“Hey um what are you up to?”

a pause hanged in the air.

and your heart skipped a beat as your audibly hears his breath hitch.

“Ummmm im sitting on the coach right now’ was about to watch a show or something…what about you?”

his voice was calm but to you- you noticed how his voice only sounded like that when he was nervous or taken off guard.

“oh I was just calling to say goodnight”

You muted yourself as fast as you could and let out the heaviest sigh as you look at the camera mouthing a ‘imsoscared’

“…YOUR CALLING ME TO SAY GOODNIGHT???”

you hear gojo practically yell into the phone and you just unmute yourself.

“Yeah is that bad or something?”

“NO- I mean no it’s fine just…unexpected”

“yeah well I just felt like calling you and saying that”

holy shit you were fighting every urge in your body to let out a shriek as you heard his next line-

“You should’ve called earlier now I’m gonna stay up all night thinking about this”

He also didn’t mean to tell you that, but everything felt surreal. As you looked over at your still recording phone you watched as the video was about to end so you rushed your next sentence out.

“ok good! Think about me all you want! BYE!!”

you pushed the hang up button before launching yourself towards your phone, laughing hysterically.

he hand his mouth wide open as he ran a hand through his hair. God really did answer his prayers.

Toji, F.

it was late at night when your ‘son’ , Megumi had been bothering you to give a certain someone a call.

Despite Megumi not being your biological son, you helped raise him for a good 5 years, which made you play a pretty big part in his life while you were dating his father. Toji.

being there for the two of them, helping both of them resolve conflicts between each other, and healing parts of them that they didn’t even know were broken were just a few things you did for them. Until you started to get busy with school and Toji was getting more busy with work.

Neither of you made time for each other and ultimately that led to your divorce. Now you just have Megumi every other weekend, and are more than welcoming towards him- after all, serving as a mother figure to a boy who relied on you came with its responsibilities.

with that, you saw how megumi had a fight with his dad over something stupid. Like always. So now you have to be the middle man and try to resolve it.

However instead of being serious about the situation you told Megumi about a prank you saw on Tik tok that you’d want to do on Toji. Surprisingly, Megumi was rather supportive of the prank and urged you to do it.

Megumi sat on the other end of the coach watching the phone as it rang from your hand. You nibbled on your lip as you watched your dim screen light up once he answered.

no hello came from him, but a hum instead.

“oh hey Fushiguro”

his heart strings tugged as you called him that, remembering how he’s no longer your ‘Toji’.

“why are ya’ callin’”

“oh I just wanted to wish you a good night!”

Your eyes darted to Megumi for a reaction- hoping he was satisfied.

“….do ya’ know who your calling???”

“Yes! I literally said your name in the beginning”

“o—kay but I mean ya’ never call me to say that sorta stuff”

You heard the tension in his voice. You also saw Megumi’s averted gaze.

“well I kinda felt like it. Matter fact, me and Meg’s both wanted to wish you a good night!” You said cheerfully as you moved closer to your ‘son’.

throwing an arm over his shoulder as you held the phone between the two of you.

Toji sighed, but the type sigh you let out when you have a huge ass grin on your face.

“I wish the two of ya’ a good night too.”

“yeah…we’ll sleep well! Right Megs!”

“sure” Megumi spoke softly but a small smile was evident in his face.

“Oh an ma’— call me once the kids asleep.”

with that Toji hung up, probably feeling prideful and giddy.

Megumi was confused yet was eager to oblige in order to see what would happen.

and you were left wonder if this silly prank could just bring your family back together- especially after he called you ‘ma’ again.

God it felt good.

Ryomen, S.

how it happened you didn’t know.

one moment, all of your friends are talking about how weird each of your exes were.

one saying that ‘mine was way to clingy’

the other saying ‘mine was a scrub’

However before you could talk for yourself both of your friends had already been looking at you- “yeah yours is a fucking asshole and he’s insane”

you just looked down and sighed.

before you knew it, all three of you were taking turns calling your exes.

and soon enough it was your turn.

You were all laying down on your stomachs in your bed, your phone leaned back against the pillow as it vibrated.

ringing sounds passed and you were about to hang up but then a gruff and annoyed voice was heard.

“what?”

your heart skipped a beat for a second before looking at your friends only to see them exchange glances.

“heyyyyy Im just calling you to say good night!”

“….the fuck???”

you almost blew your cover by snorting.

“you heard me! I said-“

“I heard what you said but are you on fuckin’ acid???”

“WHAT? NO!”

“you know who’s number you called right?”

He knew if you were calling anyone else to say this to, he would go out of his way to find them.

“yes I know this is you Sukuna.”

The annoyance seeped throught your tone.

“Kay’….why are you wishing me a good night??? You fucking told me you wished I’d rot in hell last time I saw you”

both of your friends threw a hand over their mouths trying to contain their laughter.

To be fair you and your ex used to argue a lot. Thought you also made up…a lot.

“I still stand by that statement”

“Yeah sure…….im coming over in half’ hour.”

With that he hung up and you face palmed.

However both of your friends eagerly grabbed their shit and left excited to hear what happend once he got there.

yk damn well what happened

[nixalba]

just another girl on the subway | KA12

featuring: kimi antonelli x reader in which: he chose his dream over you once- and he's regretted it ever since. includes: angst, right person wrong time, unresolved conflict, open ending. english is not my first language! wc: 1.9k. notes: happy f1 summer break! apologies for the inactivity, school has started again for me and i've been focusing more on it; that, and my breakup has been eating me alive, so i wrote this self-indulgent piece to try and vent my emotions out because i love writing and its my coping mechanism teehee. title is from subway - chappell roan (we finally got it released im so happy), enjoy! my masterlist

HE DOESN'T SEE you immediately. He’s too busy talking to his friend about the next race to notice your familiar silhouette pass by him— and when he does, you’re already halfway out the door.

Kimi had the choice. He could have chosen to watch you walk away again; watch as two entire years of silent yearning culminate into an anticlimactic ending where he just sees you go and never return. He could have quietly sent you off in his mind without a word and continue on with his night, maybe actually pay attention to what his friend was talking about.

But he didn’t. He chose his dreams over you once, and your absence was a brutal price to pay. He doesn’t want to make that choice again. Two years ago, he made the difficult decision to prioritize his dream of racing over you, and he’s never forgiven himself; the memory of you and what could have been has haunted him in all of his waking moments. Each victory was sweet, but he knew that deep down that it would be sweeter with you watching.

And so, when you’re fully out the door, Kimi doesn’t even hesitate. He doesn’t need lightning-fast reflexes to make this choice, not when he’s been agonizing about it for so long.

He mutters something under his breath — towards his friend, although it probably wasn’t obvious since he was in such a rush — before rushing out of the restaurant.

It was practically like instinct, the way he spotted you in the crowded streets immediately. His eyes were meant to always find you in every place he was in, constantly yearning for that familiar face. You were the light he was constantly running towards, and now that you’re back, he wasn’t going to let you go again.

As Kimi pushed past several walking bodies, he felt the weight of the past begin to press down on him. Memories of bygone moments that were all stolen away by time resurfaced in his mind like twisted reckoning; arguments about the future, how you felt unsure and out of place with him as he pursued his dream— and how he failed to reassure you. The picture of your face is still clear in his mind: there was such clear uncertainty creeping into your eyes that day, and you were trying so hard to fight it back because you trusted him— but he broke that, along with the future you were building together. He threw it all out of the window back then, and he’s been trying to collect its broken pieces ever since.

He chased you all throughout the city— through the streets the both of you would sneak into to escape meetups, sidewalks he could swear you knew by heart, alleys where you shared more secrets to him than in any other place. Somewhere in between crossing the third avenue and squinting past the thick crowd to spot you, Kimi was hit with a daunting revelation: this entire place, the asphalt these cars were rolling on, the smooth concrete of the pavement he was standing on— they were all proof of his story with you.

Despite the time that passed, the metropolis in which you built your love story remained standing, resilient and unmoving amidst the all-consuming tide of change. It continued to tell the story of you and him, even after you both left the pages behind. You closed the book because Kimi chose to write a new tale— now that you’re back, he’s not letting the pen go.

This odd, one-sided chase soon met its culmination in the bustling underground of the subway. It was almost 5:00 PM; rush hour for most workers and students, which meant that terminals would be overloaded soon as people from all walks of life begin to flood the trains. The city was going to move on again in its usual routine, but Kimi didn’t want it to yet— he needs to get you back first.

When Kimi finally caught up to you, he was too busy catching his breath to notice that you weren’t even waiting for a train— you were just… standing there, near the benches, stuck in the boundary between where one would wait for the cars and people who’d wait in the sidelines. There was a look in your eyes, something that was familiar to Kimi all those years ago but was eroded by his time apart from you.

You looked… sad. Lost, even, which was odd because you knew this entire city like the back of your hand. There was an emotion in your eyes that Kimi had seen only once in your time together before— it was the same look you had on your face when he broke your heart.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistake again. He knows he can’t turn back time and go back to the moment when he took your future together with him and shattered it. But if that truly marked the end of your story together, then why are you here standing in front of him again? Was this just some cruel trick from the heavens to remind him of what he lost, or is this fate bringing you both back together?

Kimi doesn’t want to think about it anymore. He’s haunted himself with enough thoughts about how he could’ve done things differently to learn that no amount of reflection could bring back what was once there. What’s important to him now is the fact that even after everything, you’re somehow back and a mere arm’s length away from him— and he wasn’t going to lose you to some pipe dream or shot at the future anymore.

You don’t even look up when he approaches. To you, it could have been anyone; some random stranger that got too close by chance, or another lost soul that was trying to find its way back home. It’s only when he speaks that you look up— and when you do, you’re suddenly looking at your past and the future you thought you left behind.

“I don’t want to ask anything from you,” Kimi began. He’s suddenly made aware of how the station became increasingly more crowded with each word he spoke— as if the flood of people were a way of counting down on the time he had left. “I just want you to know that I missed you— I miss you. Even now.”

You furrowed your brows. Your silence was heartbreakingly deafening, but he didn’t care. “I never stopped thinking about you. Every time I won, it was nice, yeah, but I always thought about how much better it would be if you were there celebrating with me.” He thought about all the times he was on the top step of the podium, raising the trophy high with a proud smile on his face. It was always a fleeting yet fulfilling moment for Kimi— but deep down, he knew that if you were there somewhere in the crowd cheering for him, it wouldn’t be as momentary as it was.

“I shouldn’t have had to make that dumb choice all those years ago,” he said. “I didn’t need to pick between you or my dreams. It was always going to be both— because you were my dream, too.”

His next words aren’t practiced. It didn’t have to be. “You always have been. And you still are.”

From the corner of your eye, you see the conductor raise the megaphone to his mouth; he mutters something about a train approaching. Kimi hears it too, but he doesn’t care.

“I don’t know why you were here today,” he said, and you blinked back tears. Something about how he knew you were here for a reason made your chest ache, because it felt like he was waiting for you. And it didn’t matter why— just the fact that he cared. After all these years, he still did. “Hell, for all I know, this is probably the last time I’ll ever see you again for the next two years—”

“Kimi,”

“And honestly? That’s okay, because I’ve accepted the fact that I fucked up back then and I get it if you don’t want to talk to me ever again but at least give me the chance to—”

“Kimi.”

He looked at you. All this time he spent chasing you across the city, he only ever looked at your hair, your nose, your mouth— never your eyes. He only saw the sadness in them from afar and never up close, because he knew that he didn’t have the courage to face you fully.

You opened your mouth to speak, but only a few words come out. “I get it. I do,” you said, smiling. “I’m glad you came. I saw you at the restaurant, actually,” you recalled how you spotted him with his friend earlier. “I wanted to tap you then.”

You shook your head and chuckled. “I didn’t, and I guess that’s why we’re here.”

Kimi sighed. “You almost did.”

“Almost,” you nodded, “but I didn’t.”

And that was the thing. It’s always almost, almost, almost. You almost went up to him then, he almost let you go again. He almost watched you leave silently; you almost left without seeing him again. You and Kimi were always caught up in this state of limbo where it’s either now or never— but since you both can’t choose, you opt to just… stay. These two years weren’t one-sided at all— you were there, too, hoping and wishing the exact same. Just on the other side, where he couldn’t see you.

Somehow, even after so many promises, you both never find a compromise. At the end of the day, even after fleeting moments of seeing one another in the same city again to rushed conversations in the middle of a crowded subway, nothing can ever amount to either of you saying yes to one another. Because despite everything— the truth was never going to change. Kimi made his choice then, and in turn, you paid the price. Even if there was a chance to continue what you both believed was unfinished, would you want to? Does he want to?

Kimi wants to. He knows that; he sees his choice in the past as a grave mistake— and despite his inability to fix it, he wants to redeem himself, at the very least. That’s why he was here.

But did you want to? In your heart, you did; but there was something that was holding you back. Was it the uncertainty of the future again? Or something new entirely?

Whatever it was, it kept you from crossing that boundary you’ve been stuck in. It held you back from taking Kimi’s outstretched hand, and even if it broke your heart to reject it, you knew you had to.

There was always going to be something. It was always going to be just almost. You were near him, just close enough to be with him in the heart of this bustling city— but far enough to be unable to live the kind of future you both wanted for yourselves.

You were almost there. He was waiting for you, always was— you just needed to meet him halfway.

Would you be able to?

[unhakies]

Okay hear me out college au taesan who goes to school for music and gets partnered of with reader to make their own song. Like he’s a little shy and introverted but then sees readers passion for music that he falls for her and it like he’s continuously only able to come of with lyrics for a love song as they get to know other more. He tries to hide it but seeing someone LVOE music like him gets him down bad and there’s a huge confession from being jealous but it’s like poetic and just cutsey

Omg sorry this is so much:’)

between the lines. k. woonhak

pairing: musicmajor!taesan x musicmajor!reader

genre: oneshot, romance

wordcount: 1.705k

notes — nothing is ever too much this is so cute i hope its what you wanted🥹💗

taesan didnt do well with group projects. he liked quiet, and group work was the opposite.

so when he heard this project worth most if his mark was a group project, being mad would be an understatement.

the professor clapped his hands, gaining the attention of the students who chatted excitedly. "this final project will be a composition between you and your partner. pairing are on the screen. also, you get extra marks if you preform the song at the end of the year festival."

you blinked at the screen then looked around, han dongmin, who didn't know him? he was known for his amazing composing skills.

you walked towards him after finding him through the chaos of the class. "han dongmin right? im name." you gave a smile and a small nod.

"right, it's nice to meet you."

you met in the music room the next day. taesan brought his guitar, and you brought your mini keyboard.

"so what vibe are we thinking" you asked, glancing at him. "mh, i'm not sure. i tend to give for more mellow vibes."

"let's find a middle. we can find something together." you smiled.

we. he liked the sound of that

he strummed random strings, trying to find the right melody. "wait! play that again." you looked up with stars in your eyes. he raised an eyebrow but nevertheless played it.

you clapped like you win the lottery and write something down and then hummed a melody, whispered some lyrics, and thats when taesan knew it,

he was done for.

a few weeks later, taesan was stumped. the project was going good—great if anything. but he kept writing lines, and they started to look familiar, like they were about you.

"i met a girl with stars behind her eyes she sings like she’s chasing the sky and i can’t write a song that doesn’t sound like loving her"

he couldn’t use them. obviously.

but every time you laughed over a dumb harmony or leaned in to fix his timing, he felt another lyric bloom in his chest.

you weren’t even doing anything. you were just.. being passionate. earnest. alive with music.

and taesan was absolutely, totally down bad.

taesan wasnt the jealous type. if anything, seeing other people get stuff is motivation for him to keep pushing.

but today was different. but it started like any other;

you sprawled on the floor, notebook hovering over your face as your tongue poked out of your mouth in focus

he smiled before you even saw him.

“morning,” you chirped. “i brought snacks.”

he sat beside you, accepted a pouch of dried mango you offered, and began tuning his guitar while you rambled about tempo and bridge transitions.

you both knew the demo deadline was coming up. but still, there was no rush. you liked to linger.

until the knock.

the door swung open mid-harmony. taesan’s fingers stilled on the strings.

“hey,” said minho, leaning against the frame like he owned the building. “heard you were in here, name”

you brightened. “hey! what are you doing on this floor?”

“jazz room got booked, thought i’d come snoop. that song you played last showcase, it was sick. you working on something new?”

“actually, yeah. this duet project with taesan,” you said, nudging him gently with your shoulder.

minho glanced over, boredly, and nodded once. “cool. you guys sound good.”

taesan managed a small, polite smile.

“wanna hang sometime?” minhi added. “i've got this beat that i need help on.”

you laughed, warm and casual. “sure, i'm down. text me?”

“bet.”

and just as quick as he came, he was gone, but the air didn’t go back to normal.

not for taesan.

he strummed a few bars quietly, but his thoughts were racing ahead of his fingers.

he knew it was stupid.

he knew you weren’t his. that you could hang out with anyone. that minho wasn’t doing anything wrong.

but something about the way your smile lingered. the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you said “text me” like it was nothing.

taesan wasn’t used to jealousy. it didn’t sit neatly inside him. it scratched.

“you okay?” you asked after a few minutes, when he missed a beat for the third time.

“yeah.”

“you’re playing faster.”

he paused. “sorry.” you tilted your head. “wanna take a break?”

“no,” he said too quickly. “i’m fine.”

but you weren’t convinced. you set your laptop down, fully turned toward him.

“did i do something?”

taesan’s head snapped up. “what? no, why would you think that?”

“you’re… closed off today.” your voice was quiet. he winced. “It’s not you.” you were silent for a beat. then you said, gently, “then what is it?”

he hated how visible he must’ve looked, but he couldn’t lie, either, not when you asked like that.

"it's stupid." he shrugged it off. "dongmin, nothing is ever stupid, trust me." you spoke, putting a hand over his.

he sighed and spoke, almost too softly “sometimes i think i care more than i’m supposed to.”

You blinked. “about the project?”

“no,” he said, “i don’t know how to explain it. i hear your voice in my sleep. i see your lyrics in my head before i fall asleep. and every time you talk about music like it’s your first love, I just, I want to be part of that. not because of the project. not even because of the music.”

you were staring now. carefully, like he was a puzzle unraveling right in front of you.

taesan looked down, thumb tapping anxiously on his guitar’s body.

“i guess it messed me up a little,” he muttered, “hearing you say yes to minho. like your writing just belonged anywhere. like, it didn’t mean anything special here.”

the silence that followed was weighted, heavy with realization.

you stood up, walked over, and sat down beside him.

“i said yes because i like music,” you said. “but i never said i liked writing with him. when I write with you,” you said, “it feels like the song already knows us.”

and taesan, he didn’t say anything.

he just nodded. held your words in his chest like the ending of a song he hadn’t dared to write yet.

and this time, when he played the next chord it rang clear

"also, call me taesan, okay?" you smiled brightly and nodded at him.

the campus had never looked like this before.

string lights draped across trees. a makeshift stage stood at the far end of the lawn, speakers crackling with nervous energy.

seniors milled around in denim jackets and club hoodies, eyes lit with relief and bittersweet excitement.

you stood behind the curtain with taesan, nerves curling inside your stomach.

the two of you were up next. your original duet. final project. last performance of the year.

and somehow, your last moment to say everything that had been left unsaid.

“you okay?” you asked quietly, adjusting your mic.

taesan nodded, then stopped. “kind of.”

you smiled. “same.”

but then you noticed him looking past you.

you turned, and saw minho, standing off to the side near the sound table, chatting with some other jazz majors.

his eyes flicked briefly to you, and he sent you a casual thumbs-up.

you returned a polite smile. it wasn’t a big deal.

but when you looked back, taesan was already turning away.

you reached out before you could stop yourself, your fingers brushing his sleeve.

“hey.”

he looked at you. something in his eyes felt a little further away than usual.

you lowered your voice. “you're going quiet again."

“i'm fine.”

“that's not what I asked.”

he hesitated.

“do you think i'm forgettable?” you blinked "what?”

“in a room like this,” he continued, gesturing at the stage, the crowd, the buzz of competition, “with everyone chasing the next big thing, do you think i'd stand out to you if we hadn’t been paired up?”

you stared at him. “taesan…” but the emcee called your names. you swallowed the lump in your throat and you stepped onstage together.

the lights were warm.

the lawn had gone still.

and when the intro chords began, the ones you’d spent weeks layering, reworking, shaping like clay, taesan kept his eyes down.

you sang the first verse.

and when he joined you in harmony, it felt different.

like he wasn’t singing with you anymore. like he was singing to you.

then the bridge came.

the part that was never in the original. the part he added at the very last minute. he hadn’t shown you the new lyrics. he just said “trust me.”

and now, in front of everyone, his voice broke the quiet:

“i wrote you in metaphors and hid you in rhymes but no lyric fits right if you’re not between the lines”

you froze, but continued to play the keys.

“you were a chorus before i could name you a melody i was too scared to keep but i memorized your voice like scripture and dreamt of you in every beat.”

you turned to him, fully now.

he looked at you finally and everything that had been simmering for the past few months poured out through his eyes.

“this song was always about you.”

gasps echoed in the audience. but all you could hear was your own heartbeat.

he walked towards you, the background music playing and you stared at him.

and before either of you could overthink it, you closed the space between you and kissed him.

right there on stage. amid the applause, the lights, and the hum of your shared harmony still echoing in the air.

after the stage cleared and the festival turned to night, you and taesan sat beneath one of the trees with his guitar resting between you.

“i cant believe you really rewrote the bridge and didn’t show me,” you teased.

“i was hoping u wouldn’t chicken out,” he said. “i almost did.”

you leaned on his shoulder. “it was the best line you’ve ever written.”

“i meant every word.”

“i know.”

and in the distance, crowds chatting loudly amongst themselves, but it was just noise now.

because the noise that mattered was still playing, quiet and finished , in both your hearts.

regular customers; @sh0dor1 @c1eod1n3

bonedo regulars; @beomev @8makes1atom @prodkwh @woonhakntaesansgf @raccooninii @woonbabie @lvlyhiyyih

[kings-highway]

some safe-for-work headcanons regarding how they might of gone about having sex for the first time for some of my favouritr haikyuu ships:

daisuga: look you know these bitches had it scheduled. not like a meticulous planned thing, but it was definitely something they knew was going to happen in advance. Like they talked about it, agreed they both wanted it, and then 3 weeks later Suga's parents go away for the weekend and they know like a solid week in advance that their "hang out" on Saturday evening is basically exclusively so they can have sex. They're very prepared. This also probably makes that week of training super annoying for the team bc they cant figure out why their captains are being SO overly giggly like you are seventeen/eighteen year old men wtf is going on.

iwaoi: i've always thought they were probably way more nervous than any of their friends assumed and definitely did not have sex as early as people thought. like mattsun and makki both constantly tease them in a way that insinuates they're actively having sex but they probably didnt actually do it until like... the last few months of high school. They were both just nervous! Iwa was very afraid of rushing things and doing it "wrong," and Oikawa wasnt even sure what doing it "right" would be so they had like 6 false-starts before they actually managed it.

ushiten: dorm living is not condusive to intimacy so when for the first time in like 8 months since they started dating that they have a confirmed evening with a locked dorm alone they end up making out for just a crazy amount of time. Tendou is too nervous to actually move anything forward because he's too anxious over the possibility of rejection but he keeps making these weird half-insinuations like "haha I cant believe nobody's going to be back for another four hours... we could do anything and get away with it... isnt that so funny... like nobody would know if we were making out or having sex or just reading a book... haha... isnt that crazy... me and you..." and he's all weird and twitchy about it until Ushijima tells him he doesn't think the idea of them having sex is crazy at all and then it is on immediately.

kuroken: highkey, kuroo probably lays out like a whole romantic, corny ass evening with candles and rose petals and is prepared to have a whole long conversation about being "ready" and Kenma just sort of rolls his eyes and is like "have you finished talking? this is Too Much. I need you to understand this is Too Much. Oh my god I love you but WOW." (it works anyway and Kenma is sufficient wooed).

tsukkiyama: this one might be a little out there but I genuinely think they're the most likely to have it happen by accident, or in a spontaneous moment of opportunity. Like they both intend to just take advantage of the empty house with only a bit of making out and then suddenly they're losing their clothes and it's like "we'll have a conversation about it tomorrow, im sure."

kagehina: okay this one is more stupid but I imagine after they've been dating a while Hinata is like "you know what, im ready to take the next step" but Kageyama cannot read ppl so Hinata's somewhat obvious attempts at seduction go entirely over his head, and Hinata is getting increasingly frustrated and dramatic and trying really really hard to get Kageyama to realize what he wants and it ends up causing a fight between them because Kageyama thinks Hinata is being weird and Hinata thinks Kageyama is being intentionally distant and eventually Kageyama blows up and is like "Oh my god if you want to break up or something just say so!!!" and Hinata is like "Oh my GOD I dont want to break up with you I want to have sex with you!!!" and of course that shuts everyone up and unfortunately Yachi is probably also there and wants to die.

[luvhyukai]

feeding your delusions.

“study buddy.”|| part 1

pairings: college au, richfuckboy!hwa x nerdishloser!you

synopsis: you had a crush on the school fuckboy, who just so happened to be in the same class as you, who also just so happened to be your assigned study partner. he’s got a girlfriend so he’s out of your reach. he’ll be in your home…he’ll be next to you….he wouldn’t do anything weird….right?

smut is in part 2!

warnings: opening paragraph is smut. cheating (he has a gf), toxic relationship (again on his end), pet names (pretty, baby, things like that), the word squiriting, a little bullying (you get called weird and a bitch. nothing too degrading), cussing, non sexual teasing,

authors note; this one is very lengthy, i might have to do a part 2 for it. but uh,well i don’t really have too much to say. i just wanna start writing more. this lowk is something i dreamed abt. so take a trip in my dreamland lol!! im lookin for moots so plz if you see this, moot me! anyways enjoy!

story below the cut ;)

“doesn’t that feel good baby?” he whispered in your ear. you were too fucked out to even reply. he smirked and took one of your nipples into his mouth. “you don’t even have to say anything. i know you love being split open by me.” he growled. he then took his hand and slid it between your bodies, rubbing on your clit. with the pace he set, the amount of pressure he put on your clit, it was too much. “i-it’s too—much! i’m gonna cu-!” you were practically screaming. “oh yeah? go ahead baby, make a mess on my cock.” he smirked. you felt your orgasm rushing, almost—almost there.

the alarm you’d set had suddenly gone off. it startled you out of your sleep, jolting awake and covered in a thin layer of sweat. your breathing was hard, looking over to your roommate who was looking at you with a smirk. “damn again? what did he do this time?” she teased. you rolled your eyes and threw a pillow. “shut up. and stop watching me while i sleep. gives me the fucking creeps.” you said. “aw, it’s not my fault that you keep having wet dreams about that whore of a man. he’s not even that cute to be squirting in your sleep if ya ask me.” she said while getting out of her bed. “well thank goodness i didn’t ask you.” you said back.

this was becoming the routine. you go to sleep, have an amazing wet dream about seonghwa, your crush who also happens to be the schools fuckboy. as soon as you’re about to cum you get scared shitless by the alarm, get teased relentlessly by your roomie, and the cycle repeats. it’s been that way since he first walked in class. tall, slender, a face sculpted by god himself, he had all men and women practically gawking at him. he’s just so happened to be placed next to you. some people envy you but it secretly makes you happy that people literally wish to be in your spot. the desks were placed close together, 2 in a row, side by side. there’s zero arm room, let alone leg space. and there he was next to you, manspreading. out of the side of your eye, you looked down to see the outline of this print faintly through the sweatpants he was wearing. needless to say, you never got that image out of your head. it only added fuel to the fire.

pulling out of your thoughts, you get the day started and get ready to go to class. you major in family therapy, it always surprises you how little people are interested in that field of practice. you looked at yourself in the mirror before walking on campus. as you’re walking to the cafeteria for breakfast, something moved in the corner of your eye. you instinctively turn to look, your heart breaks. you saw him. not only did you see him, but you saw him kissing another girl. it looks like the cheer captain ; na aera.

sure there are some differences between you two. she’s more athletic and outgoing, you’re more average and shy. if shes not wearing her uniform, she’s wearing flashy designer clothing. you’re wearing clothes from the previous year and hopes it still looks good. what the fuck is so cute about her? if seonghwa gave you the chance, you’d be ten times better than she— “hey!” someone says snapping you out of your mind. it startled you a little. you’re blinking quickly to get a grip on life again. “you okay? you’ve been staring at us for a couple minutes. did it bother you?” you looked to see aera looking you in the eyes. it smelled like fake concern.

“uh….yeah i’m so—i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to stare.” you said lowly. “it’s okay. just go enjoy breakfast while it’s hot, yeah?” aera said softly. you looked up to see seonghwa looking back at you. he had a smirk on his face, barely visable. heat was slowly crawling up your back. aera looked back at him and then back to you slowly. “i’ll help you get there if you need me to.” aera said, a hint of impatience in her tone. you shake your head, “no..no that’s okay. i’m gonna go now.” aera nodded and stepped back a little. you walked quickly away.

‘that bitch is weird.’ aera thought to herself as she watched you walk away. “babe, are you okay?” seonghwa asked. “uh, yeah i’m fine. i gotta go, i have practice shortly. i’ll text you when im done!” she said and left. you were already sitting in the cafeteria when he walked up next to you. he approached you and sat next to you. “i’m sorry about the hallway thing. i didn’t know people showed up early to school.” he said softly. you looked over at him and that’s when you really had the chance to admire him.

he noticed you staring. “wow, you’re actually not bad looking.” he teased. you felt your cheeks heat up and quickly looked down. “how cute. i’ll catch you later.” he chuckled and walked away. that whole interaction went straight down to your pussy. you sighed and walked to the bathroom.

sitting on the toilet to make sure you stay dry, you heard a voice approaching. “they were weird as fuck. i mean, we were just kissing. it wasn’t like we were naked in front of them. anyways, they started looking at seonghwa. so weird i swear. but they only have one more time to even look at him. it’s an ass beating in order.” that voice sounded like aera. you held your breath and lifted your feet so that she wouldn’t know you were in there. “anyways, are we still linking after class? seonghwa has a project to start on today, so i’m all yours.” she said lowly. the other voice must’ve said something she liked because it caused her to giggle seductively.

“you know why i can’t leave him fully. he’s filthy fuckin rich. i argue with him so that after we fuck to make up, i get designer shit. ah, i’m just gonna pawn it all anyways, then you and i can come out publicly. you know his dick isn’t as big as yours. he never makes me cum, so pathetic honestly. no, quit worrying baby he’ll never find—.” you froze as she froze. the toilet had automatically gone off after you shifted slightly. she was walking closer to the stall to see who’s in there. but suddenly some girls came in the bathroom. “aera, hey girl!” a voice said. “i’ll call you later.” aera whispered on the phone. the girls chattered a bit but left. you exhaled and stepped out the bathroom. you check the time on your phone, holy shit you’re gonna be late.

you run to class and make it in time before the bell rings. seonghwa already sitting in his seat, eyes glued to his phone. you take a seat and begin learning. “so class we’re gonna be starting on a project for this entire course so i hope you were paying attention. the person next to you is your assigned partner. it will be due in 3 weeks, that’s ample time to put things together. work hard and you’ll succeed!” the teacher spoke. you looked next to you, his eyes were already looking at you. he smirked and said “well pretty, i hope you like me because im gonna be up your ass all three weeks….and in your pu-.” he was interrupted by his phone going off. “sorry it’s my girl. i’ll write my room number down so you can come over tonight and we’ll get started.” he smiled and walked off.

be in your what? what the fuck was he gonna say?it doesn’t matter really. you’ll be at your crushes place, just the two of you, no interruptions. you could hardly wait.

next one is descriptive smut so stay tuned!!

©️luvhyukai on tumblr !! ⭐️

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

So, that deja vu fic got me thinking.. and what if katsuki has a childhood friend (obvi friends w deku too) where he is always trying to impress her and class 1-a notices or ( if you’d like them older ) the agency notices and starts betting on when he’ll confess to her. turns out, she actually confesses first and everyone is happy (and slightly disappointed… nobody got their money) 😋😋

Also, when i saw the notification “@cashmoneyyysstuff started following you” i have never hit a follow back button so fast 😭🫶

Remember you’re amazing, take care of yourself, drink water, stay safe, and know that you are loved ❤️

bet on it, bet on it !!

there's definitely something going on between you two, and your classmates are determined to figure out when it'll finally happen

a/n: WAAAA @itzjustj-1000 this is soo cute ! especially since katsuki being a loser n tryin to impress us instead of just confessing is honestly adorable. ALSO ALSO ur LITERALLY THE SWEETEST !! ur the loveliest it's a given i had to follow u !! i tried to honour ur request as best i could, i hope you like it ! also say it w me yall: WEEWOOO WEEWOOO CHILDHOODFRIENDS TO LOVERS ALEEEEEERRTTT(yall r forcing my hand atp (not that im complaining tho))

fem reader, katsuki is a whipped little loser, katsuki likes getting praised by reader but acts like he doesn't challenge (fails miserably), kaminari n sero are little shits, m*neta (he doesn't say anything creepy don't worry <3) everyone is in their 2nd year in this one. lemme know if i missed something else !

for as long as izuku midoriya could remember, you and kacchan have always been a packaged deal.

deku remembers all the way back in primary school, how kacchan would bend over backwards to impress you, spending his days trying to win your praise like he was collecting it. whether it be showing off how good his reading skills were, or showing off his newly acquired quirk to you at any given chance. (away from the eyes of the teachers, of course)

or even with silly things. like the time he showed you how long he could hold his breath underwater. it didn't matter, as long as he could show it off to you, he would.

deku remembers how pride would fill his childhood friends face, cheeks practically glowing and a smile basically reaching his ears. a simple "woooah, you're so cool kacchan !" had the boastful blonde giddy for the entire day, chest puffed out as he walked ahead of everyone, with you right next to him, of course. (you were the only one worthy enough to stand by his side after all)

and though he spent his time trying to win your praise, he also needed your attention constantly. katsuki constantly demanded your attention. he's the only one who's allowed to sit next to you in class, you're always the one he picks first when it's time to pick teams to play dodgeball. he's your partner for every project and you're the one who walks beside him when you and your friends go venture out in the woods to go out on your adventures. and even though they would usually take place in the park, katsuki always claimed he'd be the one to protect you if anything were to happen.

as kids, deku was probably the only one who noticed how hard katsuki tried to impress you.

and he's probably the only one to notice how he still does it now.

"sooo...kacchan totally has a thing for yn, agreed ?"

"mhm. definitely."

"yup."

"'m suprised you just noticed that now, kaminari...actually i'm not really suprised." jirou drawled, twirling one of her earphone jacks around her finger.

okay, so apparently he isn't the only one who noticed.

kaminari pouts "i noticed ! i noticed, like, ages ago !" he huffs into his folded elbows on the desk " i just wanted to see if you guys did !"

"you'd be stupid to miss it." sero cuts in smoothly. their grouchy homeroom teacher somehow ended up absent, leading to an impromptu free period. which in turn caused for loads of gossip he had somehow gotten roped into. kirishima, kaminari and sero were talking about you and katsuki, happily chatting off about something they couldn't hear from where they were sitting.

"maaaannn, bakugou's way too lucky, scoring such a pretty girl. what's he got that i don't ?!" kaminari whines. kirishima shushes him lightly, afraid to rouse the attention of a certain blonde they just so happened to be talking about

"now that i think about it.." sero wondered, leaning onto kirishima's shoulder "midoriya, you guys are childhood friends, right ? have they always been..." he cuts himself off, pointing over at you both with his chin for midoriya to look back. ".. like that ?"

you're chatting about something that's apparently funny or exciting, with katsuki listening along attentively, his head resting in his palm like he's admiring you. his full focus entirely on you, as it usually was.

you're using your hands a lot while you're talking and deku recognizes it as the thing you do when you've gotten to the juicy part of the conversation, deku almost wishes he could listen in, then remembers it's not good to be nosy and shakes the thought away. every once in a while katsuki interjects with a subtle smirk on his face and his remarks have you either giggling or playfully pouting at him unable to hide your smile. the playfulness in his heavy lidded red eyes remains at any reaction you give him, though. kacchan's worked on his poker face over the years but it seems he can't control himself when it comes to you.

izuku realizes he's been openly staring for too long and quickly turns back to look at sero who raises an eyebrow, awaiting a response.

izuku chuckles to himself "yeah, pretty much." he hums, playing around with the ends of his tie as he speaks.

"oooouu~" kaminari sings, suddenly lifting his head up from where it was hidden into his shoulder with a sudden burst of energy, startling kirishima. "juicy details about kacchan, i'm in !"

"i don't know if it's exactly 'juicy'" izuku sweatdropped, chuckling awkwardly. "but kacchan and yn have always been really close. when we were younger, kacchan would always be seeking out yn's attention. he'd be really possesive..or protective over her, i guess ?—it was all pretty harmless though." he recounted, smiling softly at his childhood memories nostalgically pouring into his mind.

both kirishima and sero let out quiet hums when he finishes while denki simply pouts "s'not as juicy as i thought it would be" he huffs petulantly, receiving a knock on his head from jirou who hisses a "he told you that, idiot"

kirishima places his head into the palm of his hands and sighs dreamingly "man, that's so cute. bakugou's been a major softie for yn for so long.." he clenches his fist and izuku thinks he sees a little tear in his eye "so manly !" he exclaims through his sharp teeth.

"yeah, i don't know if 'manly' is the word i'd use to describe someone who's been whipped for so long and still doesn't have the balls to confess" sero ribbed, snickering to himself with denki joining in shortly after.

"hey, don't be assholes !" jirou shot "i think it's kinda cute y'know ? not really..manly..but—cute." she said.

"how much you wanna bet he's not gonna confess until graduation?" kaminari challenged.

"wouldn't put it past 'im." a voice suddenly chimes in. the five of them all turn their heads left, right then down at the voice that came from none other than mineta, who had somehow wormed his way into the conversation.

"and what the hell do you think you're doing sneaking into our conversation, freak" jirou sneers, glaring down at mineta who had already dragged his chair over, including himself into the group.

mineta decides to ignore jirou as he places his arms onto the desk seriously like he's imitating some type of mafia don. " bakugou's never gonna confess any time soon, he's too much of a pussy" he waves off nonchalantly "i bet he won't even have done it by the time we've finished school ! "

" and i bet you wouldn't say that to his face !" kaminari guffaws and the purple haired boy sputters. izuku can't hold back his grin as he watches them bicker.

" kacchan's always been pretty..sure of himself" he settles "i don't think it'd take him that long to confess" he guessed, pressing his thumb onto his chin "though maybe the fact that he's so sure of himself could hold him back.."

ah, there he goes again.. the rest of them thought as they watch midoriya babble on and on into theory land.

denki suddenly slams his fists on the desks, startling everyone. he sucks in a breath "alright ! i bet a thousand yen and the entirety of my lunch box that bakugou won't confess by the end of this year !" he exclaims, not too loud but loud enough so everyone in the group could hear him.

"oooouu~ what're we betting on ?" mina chimes in, suddenly appearing behing jirou and in turn startling her. she flashes her a little glare causing the pink haired girl to offer a weak apology and a hug.

"kaminari just bet a thousand yen and his lunch that bakugou won't confess to yn by the end of this year" sero smirked, clearly enjoying the drama

" ou, that sounds fun ! lemme join in too !" the pink skinned girl pleaded giving her best puppy eye and pout combo.

"sure ! just don't come cryin' to me when you lose" kaminari agrees, playfully jabbing at his friend.

"this is so stupid. i'm not betting money on this.."jirou scoffs rubbing at her temple. "c'moooonnn, don't be chicken, jirou ! " denki whines

"mhmm, c'moonn jirou give into peer pressure !" mina joins in, wrapping her arms around the purple haired girl and swaying her side to side.

jirou groans before finally conceding "..five hundred yen. that's all you're getting from me." she concludes sourly crossing her arms.

" i'm gonna go with kaminari's and say his balls won't drop 'till graduation" sero says simply, smirking almost mischieviously at the display of sudden chaos. he looks a little too pleased, izuku sweatdrops.

"i'm not betting on my bro, that's so unmanly." kirishima refused " i say just let them go at their own pace" he finishes, receiving a nasty look from his chaotic classmates.

needless to say kirishima gave in to peer pressure soon after, offering a modest 1,100 yen by this summer for his friend to confess.

"well i stand on what i said, i don't think he has the balls to say it at all. and i put that on all the money in my pockets ! " mineta proudly spoke.

"how much is that, like, one fruit roll-up ?" mina deadpanned, not missing a beat causing the group to erupt in laughter. mineta's objection's falling on deaf ears.

meanwhile, katsuki notices you've stopped talking all of a sudden. it takes him by surprise as you were so into it a minute ago. "what's up ?" he asks. his question snaps you out of your trance and you jump slightly, turning back to look at him "oh , nothing ! they just seem to be having fun " you gasp, a smile crawling up on your face as you look back at your friends having a good time.

katsuki on the other hand has a slight pout forming on his face, displeased at how his loud mouthed friends distracted you from your conversation. and from him he thinks, but that makes him feel like a snot nosed little kid again and his expression turns even more sour.

"tch. the fuck are those losers so loud for" he grumbles under his breath. you catch it though, and you giggle. his eyes brighten and his brows unfurrow the slightest bit when he hears it.

"don't be such a buzzkill katsu, s'not their fault you're no fun." you jest, chuckling to yourself when he scowls at you.

"fuck off ! m'not a buzzkill" he rolls his eyes, huffing indignantly "an' i'm plenty of fun" he finishes grumpily. you laugh a little more, covering your mouth with your hand when you catch a peak of him narrowing his eyes at you making fun of him. he simply rolls his eyes and sighs, shaking his head. he'll let it slide, he always does with you.

"right, right. my apologies, sir dynamight" you chuckle, bowing slightly at him, he huffs out a laugh "that's sir lord explosion murder god dynamight to you" he snorts. you throw your head back and laugh and katsuki feels the same pride he used to feel when he'd found something cool to show you back when you were brats. his stomach feels fuzzy and his head feels clouded the way it used to when you'd offer him your big, bright sparkly eyes and a "you're so cool kacchan !""

god, it never failed to remind him how much of a whipped loser he was for you.

and unfortunately still is.

you scoot your chair a little closer to his and katsuki has to use all of his might not to blush at the sudden proximity, as miniscule as the distance between you both was to begin with.

"well okay then, sir lord explosion murder god dynamight" you say rapidly, laughing to yourself. katsuki let's out a breathy chuckle, it's cute. he's cute. " i'm sure it doesn't mean much, but i at least think you’re plenty fun to be around"

katsuki feels his heart skip a beat too many.

you whisper, like it's a secret. you're in your own little corner while all your classmates are chatting away yet you say this to him like it's something between you and him. batting your eyelashes up at him. god, it's like you're out to kill him and honestly katsuki thinks for a second he wouldn't mind dying by your hand.

he's such a whipped loser.

he can't think straight. you're sitting so close to him, you're lips are glossy from that lip gloss you always have on you. you smell nice, katsuki feels like a creep for smelling you like you aren't a breath away from him.

"yeah, well.." he utters lowly. he licks his lips, feeling himself grow dizzy as he watches you watch the movement intensely and swallows. his adam's apple bobs and he can feel himself blushing like an idiot. " i don't think you're all that bad either" the end of his sentence comes out a little breathy, he barely realizes he's speaking. like his body is deciding for him, he doesn't mind much.

you give him a sweet little smile and your eyes shine like stars and you look up at him like he's everything, like he's the coolest. he wants you to look at him like this all the time.

you suddenly lean in and kiss him, right next to his lips, just at the corner. it lasts for about 0.3 seconds but katsuki feel his entire body exploding from the inside like he's let off his quirk onto himself.

"i take it back actually" you start " you're super cool to be around,kacchan " you whisper bashfully. katsuki huffs out a little laugh once his heart had stabilized itself a little bit, a small smile growing on his face—

" AW MAN? WHAT THE HELL ?!"

you both turn to the sound of your electric classmate, sporting a little pout on his face. proceeding to get dog-piled on by your other classmates surrounding him, causing him to let out whines and moans of complaint.

"i-ignore him !" mina waves off nervously "just keep doin' what you were doin !— i mean, we weren't watching or anything !" she splutters.

"nice one." jirou deadpanned sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "look, we don't mean to pry or anything, but who kissed who first ?"

at that, katsuki's cheeks flare up, turning a damn near violent shade of pink. he's about to yell obscenties at his classmates, about to tell them it's none of their business when-

" i did !" you giggle, a cat-like grin on your face

"you sneaky fuckin minx-" katsuki growls, shoving his index fingers into your sides and you let out a squeal mixed with a giggle. you're quickly drowned out by your classmates releasing a group groan, with sero and kaminari yelling and booing at katsuki, who in turn starts threathing them, his hands crackling and popping.

you don't exactly know what's happening, but you can't help but feel extremely joyful and happy.

"soo.." mineta starts "since i said bakugou wouldn't confess first doesn't that technically mean i-"

" IN YOUR DREAMS ! "

[bearambles]

ARUGUMENT FIC W HAMZAH PLEASE like gets into an argument and you need to cool off and leave and he won’t let you jus angst 👅👅

jealous

(hamzahthefantastic)

words: 1.9k

warnings: established relationship, angst, arguing, swearing, hamzah is kinda a pos, happy ending

note: i hope this is what you were hoping for! i could also 100% write a part 2. also, i think another anon recently requested an argument fic, so there might be another one coming bc it was honestly fun to write. love u all, more fics coming soon

hamzah is driving you insane.

he’s usually not the “jealous type”, but for some reason, today is different. he’s grumpy and pissy and you think you know why.

last night you had gone out to dinner with a few friends from your old school. you weren’t out late, and the group was only about ten people, but to his dismay, your ex boyfriend was one of them.

you told him about it as soon as you knew, and he was pretty passive as soon as he heard. still, he didn’t make too big of a deal, even when you wore your skimpy little outfit to the bar. after all, it was high school. besides, he trusts you.

that was until he saw the pictures. your exs hand on your waist. the way he’s next to you in the group photo. it all really pisses him the fuck off, and even when you swear to him it meant nothing and the guy didn’t mean it, he wasn’t so sure.

“y/n, you see this guy after like five years, you look fine as fuck wearing that tiny fucking skirt, and you think he won’t be into you?”

you scoff, your chest now rising and falling. you really never pegged hamzah as the type of guy to act like this. yet here he was, standing in your bedroom, a few feet away from you with his arms crossed over his chest.

you’d crawled into bed last night to him asleep, and the two of you had been completely fine until this morning. he woke up to see your friend post on instagram about the night prior. he scrolled through her photos before finding the ones of the whole group.

“okay, so it’s my fault if he was?”

“i didn’t say that.”

“you meant it though!” you run your fingers through your hair, frustrated. “listen, i already told you it was nothing. but if it wasn’t, if he was interested, it doesn’t matter, because im dating you.”

he smiles tightly and shakes his head, the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb.

“sure. okay. yeah.”

“you think i’d cheat?”

you stare at him, your blood pressure rising. you can’t believe the way he’s acting. the shit he’s implying you’d do.

“i never fucking said that, y/n. i’m just saying he was touchy, and you won’t admit it.”

“it was one fucking photo! he happened to be next to me! where did you want him to put his hands?”

“anywhere else! not your waist! it’s fucking weird!”

“so you’re mad at me because of the way a guy acted towards me.” you say, sitting down on your bed and mimicking his move of crossing his arms. “that’s really fucking progressive of you.”

“oh my god, you know that’s not true. jesus christ. i’m not mad, im just fucking annoyed. and i don’t like how you acted either.”

“how did i act hamzah. you weren’t even fucking there.” you start to feel tears prick your eyes. you hate crying in front of him, you rarely do. but this was so frustrating, listening to him accuse you when you only love him.

“i still saw.” he mumbles, clearly losing what he was trying to say in the first place. he’s just spitballing stuff at this point.

he isn’t even looking at you any more. his eyes meet the floor and he’s breathing so hard you can hear it just barely. he’s close enough to where you could reach out to his arm and pull him on top of you. you won’t though.

“saw what? my tiny skirt?” you laugh, baffled. “just leave me alone.” you can feel some of the tears start to fall.

he looks up at you when he hears your voice break. his eyes soften their gaze but he stays where he’s standing. it’s silent for a moment before you speak again.

“go away, hamzah.” you say, moving your position to lay down, your face turned away from him.

“no. i wanna talk.”

you’re silent.

“y/n-“

“i said go away.” you mumble between sobs.

you’re stiff for a long moment before you hear him sigh. he turns and leaves your room, and you wait till you hear the door click before really letting yourself sob.

you’d dealt with this in the past - controlling relationships where anything you did around any ex was considered suspicious. in fact, you almost didn’t go last night. but you’d wanted to catch up with your old friends. if it was up to you, you wouldn’t have had your ex there either. he was a total jerk back in the day. but he was, and it was fine. you’d barely spoken outside of taking that group picture.

you don’t want to fight with hamzah. he’s your person. but the way he’s acting is scary.

eventually you decide you need some air. you get dressed, throw on some makeup, and head out the door. you don’t know where you’re going, but you know it needs to be away from here. away from him.

he jumps up from the couch and catches your wrist right before you can turn the knob. you whip your head around, and meet his eyes. he looks just as pissed as before.

“where are you going?” he asks, still gripping you hard

“what, do i need your permission to leave the fucking house now?” you bite back, wriggling our arm free, “get off me. i’ll be back later.”

he starts to protest, but you slam the door before you hear any of it. if you had any fucks left to give, youd tear up again. at this point though, you’ve had enough. if he wanted to be like this, you weren’t gonna entertain it.

the city’s relatively walkable, so that’s what you do. there’s plenty of stuff to do around the area. retail therapy, you think. whatever makes you forget about this argument for a while.

-

it’s late when you walk home. later than the night before, and later than you’d ever been out without calling. you and hamzah had one another’s location, so really, he could see anytime where you were. which was the outdoor mall, and then the local bar. you’d only had a few drinks, but you were there for a good two hours. just talking and talking to the bartender. you guys are friends, and she was a good listener. so she listened.

“he’s just being so mean. and like, he’s never mean. sometimes we argue and stuff, but it’s always over stupid stuff, you know? and like, we make up super quick. but he’s like, so mad at me. and i swear to god, i didn’t even do anything.”

“it’s his first real relationship, right?” she asks, while pouring a drink

“yeah. i guess maybe that’s why. i just like, never thought he’d be like this. all jealous.”

“i think most guys are, honestly. or at least, the insecure ones. either way though, he shouldn’t be acting that way. i’m glad you got out to clear your head.”

you nod and take a sip. you’re tipsy, you realize. it actually feels pretty nice though. letting loose to someone like this. you should be talking to hamzah, but he doesn’t seem to want to listen. you sigh and shake your head like it’ll clear the thoughts away.

when you walk through the door, the house is silent. it’s nearly one am, so you assume at first that hamzah fell asleep. that is until you’re going to hang your jacket up and hear him open the bedroom door. you press your eyes closed, ready for the reprimanding.

“you scared the shit out of me.”

you turn around to face him, and his eyebrows are knit together. he’s in the doorway, his arms crossed and his back against the doorframe. he chews at his lip.

“sorry.” you mumble, going to take your shoes off.

“sorry?” he scoffs, uncrossing his arms and using them as he speaks, “you were out for hours, y/n!”

“i told you i’d be back later.” you don’t look at him, don’t step forward. you stand there, your arms pressed against our chest, holding yourself tight.

“that’s all i get then? not even a text? what the fuck, y/n.” his nostrils flare as he talks, and he starts moving closer to you. “I had no idea if you were safe! you could have gotten fucking killed.”

you laugh, moving your head back like you can’t believe what he’s saying. though honestly - he’s right. the city can be sketchy, especially at night. you seldom went on walks without him this late. especially drunk. which, he hasn’t seemed to notice you are yet.

“killed? come on.”

“don’t act like that’s crazy to say. the streets are dangerous. you know that!” he’s in your face now, motioning with his hands. “seriously, y/n, what the fuck.”

you flinch as he raises his hands in exclamation.

“so you’re mad again, great.” before you know it, you’re crying again.

you hold yourself tighter as tears start to fall. you feel like a little kid, just standing there helpless. the drinks are really getting you now.

hamzah is silent for a minute as you sob. he stands so close to you, but doesn’t dare move. when you finally look up at him, his gaze has softened and his hands are in his pockets. he reaches out slowly to brush your hair out of your face, looking at you like he’s waiting for protest. instead, you lean into his hand on your cheek.

he stares at you for a moment and you can’t tell how he feels. his eyes scan your features, landing on your lips, which are quivering just slightly. after a few moments of just looking at one another, he puts his arms out, offering a hug.

you fall against his chest and start sobbing all over again.

he rubs circles into your back absent-mindly, whispering little “shhs”. you don’t even thin of how angry you were today. how mean he was. you just cry and let him hold you. he pulls you two apart and goes to hold your face in his palms.

“how much did you drink,baby? " he asks, wiping a tear.

“not that much. just like, a few.”

“a few what?”

“mmm seltzers?” you say, more of a question than an answer.

he sighs.

“okay. well, i think you should go to bed, yeah?”

your eyes scan his face, searching for whatever emotion he’s hiding. surely he’s still angry. you hold onto both his arms while you speak.

“hamzah.”

“yeah?”

“i don’t like my high school boyfriend.”

“i know.”

he presses his eyes shut tight. his chest rises and falls slowly and before you can argue that he clearly doesn’t know, he speaks again.

“i was gonna apologize when you got home.”

“but now you’re mad again.” you say, pouting

“not about that. and i’m not mad, y/n, i was worried. you were gone for five hours without a text or anything.”

“m’sorry.” you mumble, pressing your head against his chest again.

“let’s go to bed, okay?”

he strokes your hair as you breath in his scent. he’s warm, and it hits you how tired you are. Ou nod softly against him and before you know it, he’s picking you up and carrying you to bed. giggling, you land with a plop. he joins you and holds you tight.

“we can talk more tomorrow, yeah. you deserve a better apology but i have a feeling you won’t remember much of it if i tell you now.”

you nod, scooting back to press your back against his chest. he kisses your shoulder. you fall asleep.

-

i hope you guys enjoyed >.< requests are open

[cuteandhughesy]

3. “we really shouldn’t” “so?” with anthony stolarz

he def seems like the type of guy who’d be ur brothers teammate and you’d sleep with him behind ur brothers back 😶

prompt no.3: “we really shouldn’t.” “so?”

your brother mitch has always been protective. you’re his younger sister, two years younger than him, and have always been super kind and naive. from a young age, he saw the way people took advantage of you and felt that it was his responsibility to keep you safe.

when you got a bit older and started dating, mitch’s protectiveness got worse. no boy was good enough, even when they were. he would drive boys away with menacing looks and what he called ‘stern talkings’…which are also known as threats.

eventually when you convinced your brother to chill the fuck out a little bit and let you work things out on your own, he was surprisingly compliant.

under one circumstance.

you can’t date his friends, and you certainly can’t date his teammates.

and you could live with that. most of mitch’s friends where your friends, and you didn’t see them in that way. and when mitch started getting more serious about hockey, he barley went out or had his teammates come over, so you never even met most of them. steph would ask all the time if you wanted to come to games, but you weren’t really interested at that point in your life.

“maybe you’ll find a guy,” she used to tease, winking at you discreetly in the dim light of the living room.

you always responded the same way, “im not into hockey players.”

when mitch made it to the nhl, you started going to games more often. you got to drink beers that mitch was paying for, and chat with steph about school and boys without the prying ears of your brother and your family. it was epic.

as the years passed, mitch never strayed from his dating rule or protectiveness over you.

you never planned on rebuking mitch’s dating rule until anthony stolarz waltzed into toronto with a summer tan and a perfect smile. he’s older than you—mature but doesn’t take himself too seriously. anthony introduced himself to you with a playful and intriguing gleam, and it instantly had you feeling things.

and your sister-in-law knows it too, because anytime mitch brings up anthony or if the net minder is in the same room as you, she’s wiggling her brows at you and grinning like the devil. you hate her.

and it’s fine, you think. it’s just a stupid crush on a new, older man. you’ll get over it. it’s not reciprocated.

expect it’s totally reciprocated, and after too many glasses of wine and access to a private bathroom at some bar after an important win, you and anthony hook up. and it doesn’t just end there. you have sex often…and kiss and go on dates even more frequently.

you find yourself in a secret relationship, and at the same time, betraying your older brother. slowly it becomes harder to keep a secret, and the people in your life start noticing something between you and the newest leaf goal tender.

it starts with steph who simply just knows you too well. she straight up just asks you, and you blurted it out like you physically couldn’t hold it in any longer. steph smirked and said, ‘I fucking knew it.’

next came auston matthews, one of mitch’s closest friends and teammates, walks in on you and anthony making out like teenagers in a guest bathroom. to be fair, you didn’t look the door. and it was also in auston’s house. you rushed out after the goal scorer once he slammed the door shut, lips glistening and eyes frantic, begging him not to say anything.

auston just laughed and said, ‘don’t worry kid, your secret is safe with me.’

your parents knew, and your closest friends knew (mostly leaf wags who you sworn to secrecy). your blossoming relationship with anything started to feel more real, and you certainly got more comfortable.

so yeah, you may of had four too many beers at the game. and yeah, when you see your boyfriend walking out of the leafs dressing room, looking divine after a win in his suit and damp hair, you just want to act normal and be able to go up to your boyfriend.

it wasn’t uncommon for you to wait in the tunnels with steph for mitch after games, especially when you’ve all driven to the rink together. anthony would always smile at you when he catches your eyes—a little too sexy for trying to be discrete—but you never pushed those boundaries besides some eye playful eye tag. not when mitch could walk out.

but once again, you’re well passed tipsy and you just want to love up on your man like all the other wags get to. before you can even think about it, you’re moving, searching out anthony—heels clicking on the floor as you make your way through the crowd.

anthony’s talking to morgan, completely unaware of the way your striding towards him—not until you’re right in front of him and morgan. you wrap your hand around anthony’s bicep, blinking up at him with glassy eyes.

“hi,” you beam, glossy lips tempting him in ways you’ll never understand.

anthony swallows, eyes squinting in amusement. he shoots a glance at morgan, who is just stifling laughter like he knows—god damn it tessa. “hi,” he parrots.

“missed you,” you whine, pushing up onto the toes of your heeled boots and pucker your lips, “can I have a kiss?”

anthony laughs, rubbing the back of his neck while his eyes subtly scanning the room—checking if anyone is watching. morgan has slipped away from you now, and there’s only a few lingering bodies left in the tunnel. he sees steph, eyeing you both sneakily. which means mitch is still here.

“we really shouldn’t.” he mumbles. despite his words, anthony lets his hand wrap around your waist, keeping you against his chest to steady the drunk sway you have going on. slowly, he licks along his bottom lip, “your brother could catch us.”

“so?” you huff, pushing even further up his body. “just a quick kiss.” you say. you’re too happy on wine and in love to think about your brothers stupid rule right now. you couldn’t care less about anything besides your gigantic sexy boyfriend—who is grinning down at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

and you are. more than the nhl. more than the stanley cup. more than breathing.

quickly, anthony leans down, free hand enclosing on the side of your face as he tilts your head up, connecting your lips together.

the kiss doesn’t last nearly as long as you need it to, and you whine pathetically when anthony pulls away from your lips. you’re not caught, thankfully, and that only makes you want to kiss him over and over again.

“i’ll see you later, kay?” anthony whispers softly, talking his hand off your hips.

you nod, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and dropping back down to your heels. “love you.”

“love you too.”

[artszweig]

spring breakers.

summary: New apartment, new bed, same boyfriend. Some things need to be broken in. (18+)

pairing: stanford!fem!reader/stanford!art warnings: smut, oral sex (f!receiving), humping, pet play, puppy!art, soft femdom, mommy kink, sub!art, dom!reader

wc: 824 a/n: yes guys im on that petplay shit sue me... this is my first published blurb so come say hi..!!

₊‧.°.⋆•˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆•˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆•˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆•˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆•˚₊‧⋆.

It was your idea to move out of the residence halls and into an apartment. Art didn't protest -- you had an entire speech prepared if he did, explaining the financial and romantic benefits of moving into an apartment for the next school year. He didn't need to hear any of it, instead telling you that he wouldn't mind a bigger place.

Neither of you expected how much work it would be. Finding your own furniture, buying your own food... the list goes on. School started in a week and a half and you both felt grossly underprepared, Art preoccupied with tennis training and you with moving in and working part-time.

Art was on the court when you moved the full-size mattress to your (now shared!) bedroom. When he came home, sweaty and worn-out, to the mattress already set up, you could almost see the joy spill out of him -- "I can't believe you did all of this on your own, oh my God," and "thank you so much for finishing up!"

And that's how he ended up between your thighs, graciously repaying you for your hard work. Your back was pressed to the mattress with your knees parted while Art found his place between your legs.

"Mommy," Art sighed, nuzzling his cheek against your inner thigh, "mommy, please."

"What do you need, baby? 'Please' what?" You didn't reach to pet his head, not yet. You waited until he showed you he deserved it.

Art whined.

"I need to," he panted like a dog, "to -- to lick."

As a reward, you rested your hand on top of his head, "okay, you have permission. You can; go on, lap it up."

You saw the tension melt from Art's body, the buildup finally releasing as he dove into your pussy. You're already wet but Art slobbers, making you unsure which wetness belongs to you or him.

Under you, Art groans like it's his cock that pushed into you -- and to him, it might as well have been. His eyes are closed as he licks at your clit, somewhat inexperienced but desperate enough to make it work.

It's mainly the desperation that gets you off.

Art's tongue makes it way down from your clit to the opening of your pussy and presses and wiggles and presses. It's like he's trying to swallow you whole. His moans rise in pitch and volume and you look down your body to see --

Art's head buried in your pussy while his hips rock against the mattress.

"Oh," you say between breaths, "oh, baby..."

You feel your body get hotter as you watch Art weakly thrust against the mattress as he continues to eat you. The angle isn't right and you're sure it's uncomfortable, but friction is friction and Art takes what he can get. His hands are busy spreading you apart, one hand on each of your thighs to keep you open for the entirety of his warm, wet mouth.

Your clit is entirely engulfed by him -- his tongue moves from inside of you to back on your clit where he sucks and licks.

"Come on, baby," you tug lightly at his hair, "be good."

Art's hips jerk while his mouth got sloppy. He moaned open-mouth into you, entranced by the way his cock felt pressed against the mattress.

"Are you gonna cum, baby?" You asked, but you knew the answer -- you could tell by the way his body stiffened up and his breaths were uneven and laboured.

"Mmph --" Art choked, "Mommy -- Mommy!"

You pet his hair, stroking him lovingly. This was his treat.

"It's okay, puppy, you can."

Art pulled his mouth away from your pussy, clenching his jaw tight. You couldn't fully see him cum, but you watched his body freeze and tense when he gave one last frenzies hump.

When he was done, he pressed his cheek against your thigh. His eyes were glazed over, completely fucked-out.

"Come on, finish Mommy off." You gently tugged him by the hair, leading him back to your pussy.

He was slower this time, more deliberate in his licks -- intentionally or not.

Art laid his tongue flat against your clit and bobbed his head up and down. You couldn't help but bear your hips down on his mouth, gently fucking his face. His eyes were shut and his mouth was pliant -- you could do anything you want to him like this.

It didn't take much longer for you to cum after rutting yourself against Art's tongue.

"Art, baby," you gasped, "I'm going to cum in your warm little mouth, okay?"

Art only moaned. You shouted when you finally came and pulled on Art's hair, making him take all of you at once. He cleaned it all up with his tongue, swallowing anything you gave him.

Beneath you, you could hear him mutter "thank you Mommy, thank you..."

You and Art spend the next day cleaning a new cum stain out of the mattress.

[pheastinyworld]

slipping through my fingers ❀•°•───────•

Summary: first loves are beautiful but it can be so incredibly painful too.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: um not proof read cause i lowkey wrote this months ago and found it in my drafts so if its shit sorry. also, this does not mean im writing again, im still busy for the next month but i wanted to post this cause i worte it a while ago

| phe's main masterlist |

love is a defining trait of humanity. it is human nature to seek affection, and also to receive love from others. from the moment we first cry as a baby and are soothed by the loving embrace of our mothers, to the time we lay on our deathbeds, reaching for somebody’s hand to hold; we will always seek out love. 

you had been told from a fairly young age that your first love would be someone you always remember. they would leave their signature etched across a curve of your heart. you’ll try to subdue their memory but they’ll always linger. oh what a beautiful innocent thing young love is, you were led to believe.

will had been in your life longer than you could remember. you were on the cusp of starting school when your parents decided to move states. that’s when you met the smith family. 

your parents, ever the extroverts, became friends with your new next-door neighbors quickly. and soon enough you were standing outside on their porch, nervous about meeting the kids for the first time at dinner. 

“darling, let go of my coat please.” your mom instructed politely, looking down at you. her eyes softened a little as she observed the worry across your face, going to soothe her hand over your hair and giving you a warm smile. 

you wanted to pinch yourself because surely that would wake you up from the nightmare of having to meet new people. especially someone your age. that year you had formed a habit of pinching yourself when you were nervous or scared… or both; which in that moment, standing outside the smith house, you most certainly were feeling both. you had picked up this strange habit that your parents fussed about from the new alice in wonderland movie; alice had said “pinching usually does the trick” when she wants to wake up from a bad dream. you thought it was a genius secret and had taken it oh so seriously.

you were going to let go of the fabric of your mom’s coat, you really were. but then the door swung open to reveal a woman and a blonde haired boy that looked around your age standing to the right of her. you fiddled with your mom’s coat and felt yourself retreating in tiny steps to stand behind her.

will’s mom had told your parents to go right inside before turning to you with a smile. honestly, you felt like your parents had thrown you into the deep end here. “hi sweetheart, this is will, he’s our youngest, your parents tell me you're six as well.”

“yeah, i am.” you replied, following her gesture to walk into the house.

“well, i’m going to go hang out with your parents. will, why don’t you hang out with her, you can watch whatever you’d like in the living room.”

the young boy was pushed forward with a gentle hand before will’s mom left you two standing in the hallway of their house, and he gave you a small wave of his hand, “hi, i’m will.”

you introduced yourself with a tight smile, pinching at the skin of your side, still incredibly nervous. “your mom said we could watch anything that we want?”

will nodded with a grin, looking at you intently. “cool” was all you managed to get out.

over the years living next door to each other, the two of you became inseparable. grace turned into a quasi-big-sister and the smith house became your second home. you and will would play games, watch movies, and as you got older, do homework and projects together.

you both agreed to go to boston college together, and the change of scenery or friendship circles did no damage to your connection. somewhere between lingering hugs after his hockey games, and celebratory praises after you topped your classes, you found your lips against his. and you loved it. you loved him. 

first loves are beautiful, especially when it was will. it was like a never ending dream. 

there were nights you both didn’t get to sleep just because he wanted to talk to you about his day. there were days you felt like you couldn’t pull through anymore, you just couldn’t finish the paper you were assigned to write weeks ago, and will was there in an instant, making you laugh and holding both your hands tightly so you wouldn’t start your little habit of pinching yourself again. he kissed you and you knew he meant it, even when he was half-asleep, drowsy from practice. and he made sure to always be touching you, hand on your shoulder, lower back, it didn't matter, nor did he care where he was. he never let go of you. 

until he did. you felt him drifting once he moved out of boston. the calls got shorter and less frequent. maybe it was the distance that did it, maybe it was just two people growing apart. 

you remember it was a tuesday. you also remember it was autumn and the leaves outside your window were turning a nice shade of orange. it was hard to forget the day will smith, the boy that you trusted most for nearly your whole life, dropped your heart and let it shatter on your dorm room floor. 

“will, are you even listening?” you huffed out a half-assed laugh, trying not to let your voice crack around the edges. 

you rested your face against your palm, leaning your weight onto the desk in front of you, your face illuminated by the glaring blue light of the laptop which showed a flight booking website. 

“yeah,” he said finally, a tinge too flat for your liking. “i’m listening.”

“what was i saying?” you questioned, taking off your blue-light glasses and closing the tab on your laptop. 

you suppose you both knew it, that it was coming. you two were prolonging the pain, dragging out the inevitable complication of breaking up. perhaps he was too, maybe he just couldn't be bothered. but what you did know was that naive you, was hanging onto the small hope that everything would be better. that you could pinch yourself and wake up from whatever awful dream your relationship had spiraled into; wake up to a story where everything was easy and without cracks. a dream where he hadn’t given up. 

“you were talking about professor-whats-his-name.” will responded, and you could hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line and keys jingle. 

you could hear the low whirling of your laptop as if it too was exhausted with the conversation. you sighed and shut the device in front of you, before answering. “no. i was asking you when i should book tickets to come see you.”

there was a long silence. and you hated it. silence wasn't something you and will really did, and if there was silence, it was that comfortable kind; the one you reserve for only those special people. 

“look,” he said, and you knew what was coming. of course you did. you'd known for weeks. “i don’t think you should come out here.”

you ran your hand across your face, moving to stand just outside your small window, peering through the cold glass and down onto your fellow college students. they all looked so happy, some were even holding hands and it made you sick.

“mhm.” you hummed, nodding your head and accepting defeat. “yeah, maybe not.”

you wanted to scream at him, yell until your fucking speaker blew, but you didn't even have it in you anymore. you wanted to ask him when exactly he stopped trying. if it was the new city or just the new version of him that didn’t want to make room for you anymore. but instead, you just nodded into the silence.

“i- um,” will started and you could hear it in his voice; you knew what the next words were. “i don’t think you and i are working anymore. you know, with the distance and all. i don’t think we’re right for each other.”

you felt your chest go tight in that familiar, awful way and the tears that stung your glassy eyes ran down your cheeks and wet the shirt you were wearing. 

“you would have never said that to me years ago.” you used to be someone who cared, you wanted to say but your voice was cracking and the tears made it harder to breathe. 

will sighed and you heard some movement, “i’m not the same person i was years ago. we both aren't."

you don't even remember who hung up. the phone had ended up somewhere behind you on the bed, forgotten, as your tears finally came pouring down your rosy cheeks. downstairs, the couples looked happy; one pair in particular wandered along the path laughing as they tried to crunch every fallen leaf under their feet, hands entangled. you rested your head against the windowsill and cried; this was the first time you truly felt the absence of will since you were six years old.

first love is anything but innocent. was it a blessing or a curse that a person remains lingering beneath the surface, ready to creep back at any moment and make you remember. no, definitely a curse. you remember your first love because it’s so painfully hard to forget your first heartbreak. 

it would be just over two years the next time you saw will again. the worst thing was that it was back home. the smith family had decided to go back home in the summer for a few weeks. you hadn't known. oh god, you wish you had, then you could've organized to go on that girls trip two weeks earlier and missed these awkward interactions. 

“sweetheart!” your mother called from downstairs and despite your responses back, she remained silent, so you rolled your eyes and made your way to her.

“what's up?” you question once you enter the kitchen, seeing your mom surrounded by baking utensils and ingredients scattered all over the counters. 

“could you go next door for me and ask ms smith if she has some spare eggs, i’m two short.” you mom asks while measuring out the baking paper sheet.

your heart nearly dropped right out of your body and you shook your head. you hadn't said a word to the family since you spotted them. sure you and will had seen each other, sure he had waved at you and gotten a little disappointed when you turned around and walked straight into your house. but you hadn't dared to speak to any of them, not even grace. 

“you’re funny mom, that’s not happening.” you laugh, reaching for a chocolate chip only for a hand to swat you away.

“that is happening, my hands are full and if it's will that your worried about, gace told me he was heading to the rink to get some practice in.” your mom smiled at your scowl, yelling out a ‘thank you darling’ when you turn to walk out of the house. 

you stood outside the door after knocking a few times. best case-scenario grace would open the door and fetch you the eggs without you having to talk to anyone else. 

the door creaked open, and there was will. barefoot, in an old boston college hoodie despite the heat, hair longer but slightly disheveled as if he had just woken up.

just your luck. you wanted to yell at your mom, she probably knew he was the only one in. 

his eyes widened, he looked genuinely surprised to see you at the doorstep. “oh hey,” he said, blinking carefully like it was going to scare you away.

“hey.” you murmured, giving him a small, tight smile and scratching behind your neck nervously. “um, my mom sent me over. she’s short two eggs.” 

“right- yeah come in. uh, everyone else took the car to get groceries,” he said, stepping back and holding the door. “won’t be long.” 

you nodded, brushing past him and walking into what you used to consider your second childhood home. the house looked the same as when you first walked inside it and it made you uneasy for some reason. 

you followed him as he walked into the kitchen, pulled open the fridge door. “how’ve you been?” 

you shrugged, leaning against the edge of the counter. “fine i guess.” you paused, watching him carefully as he closed the fridge door, carton of eggs in hand. “how’s the big league?”

will huffed out a small laugh, if you could call it that. “yeah good. still kind of miss boston.”

you felt your arms twitch at that and you nodded, face flat without much emotion as will tried to analyze your expression. “yeah? what part?” as soon as you said it you wanted to take it back and shove the words right back into your mouth.

“playing hockey with the guys, doing nothing in class, hanging out with you.” will’s voice got quieter at the last bit and you sighed, dropping your head and stared at the ground.

will placed the carton of eggs on the counter next to him and crossed the kitchen to be a little closer to you. “really miss you.”

“don’t.” you felt that familiar sting behind your eyes. the sad thing was that you associated that feeling with him; he had made you cry so many times you couldn’t count. “don’t do this. i’ve already worked so hard to forget you.”

you couldn't even look up. if you did, you would start crying. or worse, you'd let him in again after you swore to yourself you wouldn't. 

“look at me. please don’t ignore me.” will pleaded, stepping forward and peeling your hands away from your body and holding them tightly as if they were going to slip through his fingers. 

“why? you used to do it all the time.” you replied solemnly, finally looking up at him and you felt your breath catch at the sight, “you ignored me for weeks towards the end, let me suffer on my own, wonder what i had done to lose you.”

you watched as his shoulders deflated and his eyes softened, feeling him squeeze your hands in his. 

“i was stupid, i was so overwhelmed with starting my rookie year, i didn’t know how to deal with both.” will tried to explain, eyes searching across yours, feeling a guilt run through his veins when he saw your tears were threatening to fall.

you shook your head, trying to swallow that ache nagging at the back of your throat. “well you could have let me in, just let me be there for you.”

“i know, i know that now.” will responded, “and im sorry, im so so sorry.”

you sighed, closing your eyes and letting your head fall again, but this time against his shoulder. he rested his chin on top of your hair and closed his eyes as well. you felt his thumb skim against the warmth of your fingers that were tangled with his.

“you still do that,” he spoke up. “you still pinch yourself when you're nervous.”

“yeah, and you still stop me.” you whispered, pulling away to look up at him again. the two of you looked at one another for a little too long, not wanting to let go. “i better go, mom will start to worry and barge through the door or something.”

will chuckled and stepped back, letting your fingers slip through his slowly. he ran a hand through his hair, pushing down the ache that had been sitting in his chest since he opened the door. will watched as you pulled two eggs from the carton, knowing you were trying your best not to look at him.

you finally looked up to him, body half turned and ready to leave. “see you around.”

will nodded and you tried to smile before making your way out of his childhood home. 

you remember at around the age of 13 that you loved will, at 17 he became your first love. you don’t forget your first love because you can’t. first love teaches you how to be vulnerable, feel things you didn’t know were possible, and, eventually, then how to let go. and perhaps that’s what makes it unforgettable, why you’ll never forget will no matter how many times you pinch yourself.

[mejaemin]

unhappy ending - 7dream

wc: 2.2k

summary: 7dream as angst tropes/plotlines (a.k.a. the dreamies as things that make me sad)

warnings: not proofread, extreme angst, hurt/no comfort (mark: cheating, manipulation, toxicity) (renjun: hospitals, depictions of illness and having an unwell appearance) (jeno: depression, depression related habits) (donghyuck: enlistment, death, murder?) (jaemin: this one kinda has comfort? dystopia, implied death, suggestive/after sex) (chenle: a lot of toxicity, being used) (jisung: getting played, heartbreak, ghosting)

an: who let me do this. i am hurting so bad and im the one that wrote it ?!?! this is why i hate angst guys im never doing this again. gonna write the fluffiest of fluff now

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

cheating!mark texts you every morning and night, sending sweet messages with the occasional song lyric or spider man quote, be it motivational or romantic. it’s arguably your favorite part of the day, looking forward to the message of the day and the next. it’s quite confusing however, when he texts you one day saying “goodnight angel, sleep well! gonna be in the studio tomorrow, i’ll pick u up on the way <3 love you gorgeous, see you tomorrow minjeong”… when you ask him about it, questioning who this minjeong is, he immediately shuts down any idea of cheating immediately. when you sit in the studio with him the following day, he’s in the booth recording some chords on his guitar when you look at his phone. unsurprisingly, there’s messages from a “minjeong <3”. upon opening them, you see texts and texts that go on for months. of course, you immediately start screaming at mark, sobbing and punching him with frustration at his unfaithfulness. with a big pout and gifts ready, he kisses your tears away, rocking you back and forth in his arms so sweetly, cooing as he convinces you it’s no one, bringing you to stay with him and ignore the many “i knew it” texts from your friends.

memory loss!renjun sits in the hospital bed, skin pale and sickly as he draws in a sketchbook with shaky hands. there’s countless cords and tubes attached to his body, the abundance of technology being the only thing keeping him alive. the nurse standing next to you places a hand on your shoulder, startling you and forcing you to turn away from the hospital door’s window.

“if you’d like, you can try again today. he’s been pretty stable recently.” her smile doesn’t even attempt to reach her eyes, and you know she’s only doing it to try (terribly) to comfort you.

you nod gently, reaching for the door handle. “mm. thank you, i’ll do that.”

when you open the door, he looks up, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at you. “who are you? what are you doing here?”

you sit next to him, reaching for his hand, but he flinches and pulls it to his chest. “renjun… i- i’m sorry. i should have asked. i’m your girlfriend, we’ve been dating for three years, can you remember?”

he looks you up and down judgmentally, though it isn’t too intimidating when he’s as skinny as a twig. “no, i’m sorry, you must be mistaken. i’m very much single.”

just like that, your skin heats up with frustration and you have to fight back tears. turning on your phone, you turn it to him, showing your lock screen of the two of you. he only looks more confused, so you unlock it and begin scrolling through your gallery, swiping through photos upon photos of the memories between you two.

“do you really not remember any of this..? we’ve been dating for the past three years, we met in high school, donghyuck introduced us.. please tell me you remember, any of it.” your voice quivers, the tears falling freely now.

he shakes his head, albeit weakly. “no, i’m sorry i don’t remember any of this. are you sure you know what you’re talking about?”

from your bag, you pull out a small framed piece of canvas paper. on it is a bouquet of your favorite flowers, renjun’s signature in the bottom corner. “junnie, do you remember painting this?” he nods gently. “you made this for me. it’s my favorite flowers, and you gave it to me on my birthday.”

“that.. doesn’t sound right. i create art for myself, not to gift to other people. i wouldn’t do that. how did you get that.”

you can’t even see what’s in front of you, heaps and heaps of tears falling from your eyes. this is the third week in a row, trying to help renjun regain his memories, and the third week it failed. no matter what you say, what you show him, it’s like you never existed. the nurse opens the door, suggesting you leave, and as she helps you out you leave the painting with him, hoping and praying he’ll be able to remember you and all the love you had for each other.

overwhelmed!jeno was the sweetest to you, always being there for you when you needed it. no matter what he was always a call away, if you needed him he was there. he paid attention to your every need, and kept tabs on just about everything relating to you. favorite color, movie, flower, clothing style, everything. he was genuinely the best boyfriend you think you’d ever encounter. he treated you so, so good, rubbing your feet when you were tired, taking care of you when sick, and buying you the cutest of gifts ‘just because’. you were the same way with him too, y’know. whenever he felt overwhelmed, whether it be from the attention of his peers or even his own thoughts, you always knew how to calm him down. he found a home in your arms, as did you with him. everyone around you could see how perfect you two were, saying that love was real because of you. it was like everything was perfect as long as jeno was by your side. however, every couple has a rocky patch, and it just seems that you guys couldn’t make it through. sometimes, jeno got too burnt out taking care of you, despite it being something he enjoyed, and fell into habits of not taking care of himself. he grew eye bags, sleeping all day and didn’t look or act anything like himself. the outside world along with all his responsibilities at home, and his own, nagging, overwhelming, intrusive thoughts became too much, and he found it a struggle to love himself, let alone another person. with all the love in your heart, you had no choice but to part ways with him in hopes of him getting better and finding himself again. you hoped that his future had you in it, but you doubt you can be in the picture when he enters the right state of mind.

bf!donghyuck who spent the past year living his best life with you, taking you out on extravagant dates and vacations to make as many memories as possible before his enlistment. he bought so many gifts, took so many photos, and left so many marks in your shared home to make sure you’d never miss him. despite joking about it all the time, he was scared and upset about it as well. whole writing a letter for every month he was gone, more than half ended up having tear stains on them. tucking the final one into the box and leaving it somewhere for you to find, he grabbed his bags and ran to the car, sitting in the passenger seat while you drove him to the site. the whole ride was filled with tears and pointless arguments, the dread consuming you both. a whole year and a half without your soulmate, the love of your life was something you truly couldn’t bare. once you arrived, you helped him grab his stuff and make his way to the place where you would depart. right before he made his way to the hundreds of other men he would be going with, he dropped his stuff and held you tightly in his arms, kissing all your tears away and blending them with his own, promising that it would go by quickly, like he was never gone. for the first couple months you believed it, uncovering pranks and hidden gifts from him throughout the time he was gone. however, the third month came, and his gift this time wasn’t funny, or cute at all. when you opened your tv that morning, the news channel popped up, the reporter giving a solemn expression as he relayed the news that your lover’s base, the place donghyuck was stationed at, had been attacked, majority of the soldiers there being killed. a list of names was revealed, and with your heart beating out of your chest and nausea waving through you, your eyes trailed down the list until it stopped. lee donghyuck, age 24, was in the list of soldiers who had died. your entire lifeline, the one who owned your entire heart, the man who reminded you of the warm sun, had lied to you. he was gone, and wasn’t coming back.

dystopian bf!jaemin is someone who you admittedly don’t know too well. the world is overheating, on the verge of ending, and the sky is bright orange, air smoky in the mid-day when you meet him. with 30 minutes left on earth, the announcement ringing through all devices and televisions in the world. laying on the hood of his car, watching smoke billow through the sky in the distance, he turns to you with a smile.

“y’know, i’m really happy i met you, girlfriend.” his skin is bare, a dirty blanket covering both of your exposed bodies. at this point, you couldn’t care less about your skin being dirty.. there’s thirty minutes until you die, and with your boyfriend of about five hours, the only thing you’re concerned about is getting all your firsts checked off before everything ends.

you smile back, resting your head on your arm. “me too, boyfriend. this couldn’t have gone any better.” he pulls you in ever so gently, kissing you once again. it’s quite embarrassing, being in your twenties and having never experienced anything romantic, but you and jaemin are in the same boat and you both can agree that it’s really nice.

“touché. say, why don’t we get to know each other with what time we have left, hm?” his hand caresses your hair, putting a strand behind your ear. you can feel his hands shaking against your skin, and you try not to let it but it makes you all the more nervous about what’s to come.

“of course, shoot.” pulling your shirt on, you sit up and he follows suit.

with your last thirty minutes on earth, you share the stories of your parents who succumbed to the wrath of the decaying planet and all the other funny stories of your lives. the end felt so lonely this past month, and as your phone alerts you of there being a minute left, you feel whole again despite your sadness and fear. finding someone so similar to you, relating to him and connecting with him in such terrifying moments makes you feel a lot less empty. as you count down, saying goodbye to your short life, you watch the world around you, including yourself, burn while in the arms of someone you never thought you’d have.

toxic!chenle who always kept you on his arm, yet that’s all he ever did for you. he never addressed you or looked your way, but he never let you create any distance between you and him. if anyone asked, you were “his lovely, beautiful girlfriend”, but as soon as heads turned you were nothing but an annoying pest who kept clinging to him. you asked to be loved, to feel appreciated, and he’d look at you, an unconvincing pout on his face as he held yours lovingly and convinced you he’d change and give you the love you deserve. he’d take you out on a date, spoiling you with every penny just to make a post about it and then kick you to the curb. he didn’t love you, you knew that, but his attention was everything to you. he treated you so well when eyes were on you two that it was all you needed to stick around, giving him all your love when to him you were nothing but a shiny new toy to parade around to his friends.

heartbreaker!jisung who reached out to you one day, saying he was a friend of a friend who wanted to get to know you. you’ve never had that happen to you before, being wanted, so you began talking to him. he was so sweet, a cute, shy boy who’s fails at flirting and romantic gestures were extremely charming. he swept you off your feet quickly, taking you on many dates and buying many gifts for you. this dragged on for a long time, and you were so happy to have someone by your side that you didn’t even think of the fact that he never asked to make it official until your friend brought it up. thinking things were going well, you called him and suggested giving your relationship a title. immediately his line went silent, giving you no response, only being able to hear his hyperventilating, before he hung up. you texted him and called many times, begging him to tell you what was up, but it all fell on deaf ears as he eventually blocked you on everything. you were left heartbroken without closure, only hearing what happened when a friend of his reached out, apologizing on his behalf. allegedly, he said he was too scared to have a real relationship and couldn’t be a boyfriend to you. you couldn’t believe your ears, or, eyes. he made you feel so loved, so seen, all for him to back out because he was too scared to love, too unready.

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

perm taglist: @chenlezip

[ysrjune]

౨: SAM MONROE ໒; TWILIGHT AU

[ inspired by something I saw on tumblr/bot on j.ai made by erosmutt. ]

[ I don’t think this is in chronological order of the saga but if it is then yippee!! ]

[ no cullens. rosalie, jasper, emmett, alice, esme, and carlisle exist but under different names. no y/n. 3rd person. doesn’t mention reader being a Swan, but you could imagine it that way. not proof-read. I think my math was lowkey off by a little bit LMFAO ]

໒: Sam Monroe became a vampire back in 2001. He would have been 42 if he was actually alive now, but he's stuck in his 16 year old body. The young boy was hospitalized after an overdose and was dying. What nobody knew was that one of the doctors at that hospital was immortal. He had created a “family” of vampires before even reaching Sam. The young boy grew on the Dr. Kevin in a short amount of time, leading to biting Sam and turning him into a vampire before he reached death.

໒: Another year in high school. Hes learned everything already (only 20 years after he died did he actually pay attention) and now he could actually not pay any attention to his teachers, but still know the answer to every question he was asked.

໒: Sam is a 40 year old man. He's matured since he was 16. Now he doesn't skip class, does his work on time, cooperates on group assignments without fussing—he does everything he didn't do all that time ago. He still prefers to keep to himself, though.

໒: What seemed like his millionth junior year, you switched to his highschool in Forks. You were in his biology class and of course the teacher had to sit you next to him. He kept his eyes to himself but he so desperately wanted to get a better look at you. Sam had only glanced at you when you walked in, but he knew you were beautiful. You smelled great, too. One thing bothered him, though. He couldn't read your thoughts.

໒: Everytime you tried to make small talk with him, he never answered with real words. A shrug, shaking or nodding of the head.. thats all. He didnt even bother to spare a glance. He kept his eyes on his notebook where he would doodle things, and after that first day.. he didn't go to school for 2 weeks. Was it your fault? did you annoy him? a bunch of questions flooded your head.

“Do you guys know that Sam kid? pale skin and black hair with a blue stripe..” you ask the group of kids you started sitting with 2 weeks ago. “Who doesn't know him,” Avery, a girl with black hair and green eyes, answers you. “hes gorgeous.” she continued and smiled. “got your eyes on him or somethin’ ?” Jeremy, a dirty blonde with dark brown eyes, asks. “No,” you shake your head, furrowing your eyebrows. “I just.. sit with him in bio. He hasn’t been here since my first day.” Jeremy shrugs. “He dissappears a lot. Him and his siblings. Their dad likes to take them out everywhere out of town randomly.” he explains. “how many siblings does he have?” you asked Jeremy while picking at the split ends in your hair. “four, but they're like.. dating. its really weird.” Avery rolls her eyes. “They arent actually related. They're all adopted, so you know.. they arent blood.” she lets you in on what was going on between that family. “All those kids have different last names. They have the dads name, yeah, but they dont really use it. Its just there.” she says. “okay well its still really frickin weird. I mean, they sleep under the same roof. like, thats gotta be freaky.” Jeremy shakes his head. “just mind your business, jer.” Joanna, another girl who sat at the table groans.

໒: Just a few days after that conversation at lunch, Sam came back. He was sitting at the lab you two were assigned seated in, and once you walked in, he looked up at you. “Hi..” he starts off a few seconds after you sit in your stool. “Im Sam.. Monroe.” He introduces himself officially. “sorry I didnt get to introduce myself the other day. Im not good with talking to new people.” He confesses, still looking at you. “Its fine,” you assure him and look his way and introduce yourself to him. He managed to make a little bit more small talk after that.

໒: At lunch that day, you saw him sitting with his siblings. A girl with blonde hair whose name is Meli. Her boyfriend.. and adoptive brother, (yikes) Benny. Another boy and girl who were also 'together', Ryan and Julissa. Julissa had copper hair while Ryans hair was plain black. Your group was talking, but you zoned out while sneaking looks at Sam. His outfit today told you a lot about who he is. black cargo shorts, a green shirt underneath a metallica band T.. jewlery covering his wrists, neck, ears and mouth. He was some sort of punk, maybe.

໒: Overtime, he somewhat became your friend after months of trying to get to know him. Month 6 was when you found out his secret. It freaked you out, and it angered him because he knew thats how you'd act, but you just had to snoop around at libraries to read about immortals with cold skin, a diet of blood and lots of other things.

“I'm not afraid,” you tell him, but he knew it was a lie. He heard you heart racing. “You lie a lot. Not a good habit to fall into. Could get you into some serious trouble.” He walks behind you, but once you turn around.. he isnt there. you turn back around and find him standing in front of you, making you flinch. “how did–” “don't be stupid. you found me out so you know how I did that.” He towers over you. “You need to leave me alone. Dont talk to me again. Dont even look my way.” Sam mumbled. “You weren't supposed to find out.” “Anyone who isnt an idiot would know,” you snap back. “Well, congratulations, you arent an idiot. Want a cookie?” He sarcastically asks and walks off. You scoff and run after him. He wasnt using his super fast ability, but he still walked fast. “Sam, I cant just forget about this!” “try your very best, you can do it.” He replies. “Sam-” “shut the fuck up already, God damn!” He looks back at you. But something was off. He was sparkling in the sunlight that casted over him through the trees of the forest you two were in. “you sparkle?” you ask, trying to hold back all those jokes that came into your mind. “yeah, I use my sisters makeup everyday so I can shine.” He throws a sarcastic comment and rolls his eyes. “leave me alone.” but you didn't.

໒: “I'm like 40, you know that.” Sam smirks as you kiss his neck. “I shouldn't be seeing such an old man.. its gross.” you laugh, looking up at him. “super gross, but atleast I look seventeen, right?” he smiles. “sixteen.” you correct. “whatever,” he rolls his eyes and kisses you. Sam felt guilty. He felt like he was taking advantage of you because of how much older he is.. but it quickly went away when you stuck your tongue in his mouth.

໒: Sam hates your friend, Josh. Hes a fucking wolf.. he smells, isnt nearly as good looking as himself, he just.. he isnt trustworthy. “you dont trust me?” you ask Sam when he told you not to go with Josh to ride his motorcycle. “I do,” he shakes his head and looks at Josh. “Its him I dont trust.” Josh was in love with you, Sam wasnt stupid. He knew that you wouldn't leave him for Josh, but.. it still irked him how you still hung out with Joshua, knowing how much Sam didnt like him.

໒: Sam was the one to get you high for the first time. You've used drugs before, but not properly so it never had an effect. Even when Sam is fucking dead hes ruining his body. (not really..)

໒: Sam prefers to talk problems out but sometimes he just gets so angry that he cant help but yell at you. He goes too far sometimes and he doesn't apologize right away either. He just leaves and doesnt return for a few hours.. even days. He tries his best to make it up to you afterwards though.

໒: Hes always blasting his music in his airpods, room, car.. literally everywhere hes at. When you hangout in his room, theres always his playlist in the background.. but not on full volume so you could hear each other.

“I wont do it. You're crazy.” Sam says while looking for something in his drawer. You wanted him to turn you into a vampire judt like him but he hated the idea. “You're not gonna want me when im all wrinkly and disgusting.” you argue. Sam looks back at you with an irritated look. “you dont get how I feel about you, huh? I dont fucking care. I'll always want you, it doesnt matter what you look like.” he rolls his eyes and starts digging again. “Sam,” “Say one more thing about it and im taking you home. I'd never fucking do that to you. You dont know what you want.”

໒: weeks after that conversation, Sam waited for you outside your house when you came back from school. He asked you to go on a walk with him, and he looked really upset.

“we're leaving Forks.” He says, leaning against a tree trunk. “Kevin is supposed to be 10 years older than he looks. People are starting to notice.” He says, crossing his arms. Your heart started beating fast. “okay.. so what do I tell my dad? how am I gonna leave with you?” You ask. Sam looks you dead in the eye. “you don't. you're staying, I cant take you with me.” you had been together almost a year and he was just leaving like that? “so you're breaking up with me?” tears swell in your eyes. Sam doesnt answer. “you're not.” you shake your head. “you cant leave me.” you sob and hug him. “I can and I am. Look, ive been meaning to break this off anyway. We dont make any sense, babe. You're gonna die one day and what am I gonna do? Its better if I leave and un-attach myself.” he shakes his head. “I promise it'll be like I never even existed. You'll forget about me. It wont hurt you.” He looks down at you.

It really was like he never existed after a month that he left. No one talked about him or his family, your texts weren't going through to him or his siblings, your dad didnt ask about him and neither did Josh. Sam was gone. He was beginning to become a figment of your imagination. But he wasnt truly gone. You didnt really forget about him.

The pain reminded you that he was real.

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