#I'm greatly enjoying it so far actually

[skopostheorie]

as someone who has hungarian as their first language it's such a jumpscare to go to your blog and get reminded that you're learning it cuz it's barely mentioned anywhere lmao

SPOT THE HUNGARIAN !!!

[ceilidhtransing]

I've cropped out the username because I have absolutely no desire to start drama or make a personal “callout” or have people go harass someone or anything like that (and if you take this kind of thing as an opportunity to go and be horrible to another Tumblr user then that is terrible and you should stop), but wow, I have never seen such a clanging example of amatonormativity. I don't think OP necessarily meant it this way, I don't think they meant any harm, I don't think they're consciously arophobic or something - it's far more likely that they're simply unfamiliar with aspec issues, and I always prefer to assume good faith - but I want to talk about this post anyway because it provides a really good and explicit example of the way society just sort of... asserts the centrality of romantic attraction and entirely forgets aromantic people exist.

I do want to first say that I actually agree with the initial point this post is making. Romance as a genre is unfairly derided as some kind of “lesser” form of art, and this derision very frequently comes with generous helpings of misogyny. I totally agree that romance is not at all an unintellectual or superficial thing to write about, and it's bad that it gets treated that way and that readers and writers of romance get so often mocked and condemned. Romance is a totally valid genre and enjoying it doesn't make you vain or stupid or superficial.

HOWEVER. As an aromantic person I find the rest of the post just... I don't know, it's just so perfect as a probably unwitting expression of baked-in cultural amatonormativity. It's brilliant. It's so funny to me. I can almost do a line-by-line breakdown of the way it so completely forgets the existence of aromantic people. In fact, let's do that.

It is so fundamental to us. The issue here should be pretty obvious. The assumption that romance is some integral part of The Human Experience and that it's fundamental to All People is pretty much amatonormativity 101. It reinforces the idea that people who don't experience romantic attraction are “lacking”, forever sitting apart from The Human Experience, and possibly in some way not quite fully human, since we don't experience the thing that is apparently so fundamental to humans.

To want to love and be loved. The post seems to be incorrectly equating “romance” with “loving and being loved”, when in fact there are many people who don't experience romantic attraction yet absolutely love and want to be loved. (And of course loveless aros, aplatonic people, various folks who don't “want to love and be loved” also exist, and it's important to emphasise that this desire, just like romantic attraction, is also not necessarily integral to all people.) “Love” is not automatically “romantic love”, but this post seems to imply that romance is the only, or default, form in which love can exist.

If you don't think every great work of literature. philosophy. metaphysics. was ultimately about romance. I don't think you were paying enough attention. OK this is the line that elevated this post from “sigh, more casual amatonormativity to scroll past” to “I just have to respond to this”. Where to even begin with this assertion. This is a level of “assuming romance is central to everything humans ever do and ever create” that I've almost never encountered before. It feels like a manifestation of the tendency for alloromantic people to declare that, because romance is very central for them, it is thus central to Everything. And I'm homing in on “romance” because the post doesn't say “ultimately about love” - which would still be a reach, but less of a reach - it specifically says “ultimately about romance”. As an aromantic person who is an academic at heart and highly educated in the humanities and social sciences, the idea that my ability to understand literature and philosophy and metaphysics is somehow greatly hampered by the fact that I don't experience or relate to romantic attraction is just... what??? This idea is really very funny to me but also genuinely pretty insulting, even though I'm sure it wasn't meant that way. Not only does it feel like the summation of every patronising “oh, you couldn't possibly understand” directed to aromantic adults who are, in fact, entirely capable of understanding, but it also flattens the incredible breadth of human intellectual experience into “being about romance”. I sometimes find myself wishing that alloromantic people would peak outside the bubble of amatonormativity and realise that actually, there is an enormous swathe of human experience and intellect and creativity and expression that has nothing at all to do with romantic attraction and romantic relationships. And no, stating that, I don't know, the Book of Job is not actually about romance has nothing to do with our society's misogynistic denigration of romance as a genre; it has everything to do with the fact that the Book of Job is not actually about romance. (And if you aren't familiar with Job or for some reason don't consider it a “great work of literature”, replace with whatever other example you can think of; there are many.) It's insulting to imply that aro-spec and/or ace-spec people are somehow less able to participate in art and literature and philosophy etc because we might bring a perspective that doesn't include romance or sex at all and we're just not capable of understanding that Actually Romance And/Or Sex Is Central To Everything. It's genuinely absurd to argue that all the pinnacles of human intellectual achievement really, at their core, come back to romance, and it speaks to our very blinkered society's tendency to declare things like “everything is really about sex” or “everything is really about romance” or “everything is really about breakups” or whatever and then look at aro-spec and ace-spec people like we're aliens and go “but like... how do you even live?” Newsflash, there is so much more to life than romance and love and sex. You can live an entire, very fulfilling, very meaningful, very thoughtful life without these things being at all relevant to you. That's not to dismiss those things as minor or unimportant - they are indeed very central to a lot of people's lives, and they're not “dumb” or “shallow” or whatever - but they're not central to everyone's lives, and they're hardly The Only Things In The World.

And if your response is something along the lines of “well OK there's a tiny minority of people who don't engage with romance and/or sex, or relate to it in the same way most people do, but that doesn't mean that romance isn't still at the core of humanity, or that all the most important things don't still have romance at their heart”, imagine telling a woman that “well, you can focus on a career if you want, but what's really fundamental to being a woman is being a wife and mother - in fact, motherhood is the most important thing in the world, it's fundamental to women, it's what all women's literature is about”. Or, hell, telling a person of any gender that “parenthood” is the central pillar of all of humanity and that every great work of art ever produced is ultimately about parenthood and obviously parenthood is fundamental to everyone's being - forgetting that actually some people will never be parents, and implying that their childlessness makes them less able to understand The Human Experience. That might give you some small idea of what it's like to be an aspec person and be repeatedly told that feelings you don't experience and relationships you don't have and attractions you don't relate to and acts you don't engage in are somehow Fundamental To Humanity and are what lie at The Core Of Everything: how excluding that is, how alienating that is, how oppressively stifling that is.

Feeling that love and/or romance and/or sex are very important to your own life is totally valid, but I wish alloromantics and allosexuals could be more capable of opening their minds and imagining and empathising with an existence for which these things aren't central. Our lives aren't lesser, or emptier, or sadder, or shallower for lack of romance or sex. Our experiences are part of The Human Experience. Our perspectives on art and life and relationships and philosophy and humanity and everything else are just as valid. We are just as capable of profundity, of creativity, of insight - because romance and sex aren't “at the core” of any of these things. We are here, and we're tired of being forgotten, ignored, sidelined, dismissed, erased, talked over, talked past. It would be great if society at large actually remembered we exist once in a while, and that our lives are just as beautiful and important as anyone else's.

[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: The other Pillars are convinced Tomioka has something against the latest Hashira, but have no idea your husband is simply looking for you during your pregnancy. A/N: I think something glitched when I was making the header...didn't crop properly. Anyway, enjoy this trash and I'm sorry if it's not up to my usual standard but I just got the random idea in the middle of the night! WARNINGS: Fem Reader, pregnancy MASTERLIST/PREVIOUS FICS

Everyone was convinced Tomioka Giyuu hated you right from the start.

You were first introduced to the Hashira when Oyakata-sama called them all for a meeting on the latest reports of demon activity, but requested them all to stay a little longer before being dismissed. Amane gestured for you to come forward with a gentle smile and you shuffled out of the shadows with your hands clasped together in nervousness but with a bright bream upon your face. The Hashira’s eyes caught yours in surprise, wondering if you were perhaps a new Kakushi since you weren’t wearing a slayer uniform, but instead a traditional (f/c) yukata.

Then their eyes strayed downwards and changed their minds about that, but nonetheless still remained in confusion.

“This is our newest member, (y/n) (y/l/n), the (b/f) Hashira. She was supposed to join our ranks quite some months ago but due to her sudden pregnancy she will for now be an honorary member.”

The only sign of your anxiety was the blush on your cheeks and the hand rubbing at your swollen abdomen. “Hi everyone! I’m so happy to meet you all! I won’t be on the battlefield for some time and I’m sorry I can’t fight alongside you for now, but I look forward to getting to know you all. If you need anything, I’m always at the (e/n) Estate.”

The ice was broken and you were immediately approached by many of the Hashira. Himejima-san cried and wished you and your child good health, making you feel a little embarrassed but thanked him anyway. The Mist Pillar Tokito simply stared at you, then at the sky, then at you again before asking what were you doing here again (later on, he startled you by appearing behind and questioning you in that airheaded manner of his if he could talk to the baby).

You were also tackled by the Love Pillar who introduced herself as Kanroji Mitsuri and your new best friend as well as the calmer Insect Pillar, Kocho Shinobu, who despite slightly unnerving you with her smile touched you greatly when she said you could always stop by the Butterfly Mansion for checkups or simply a visit.

“How far along are you?”

“About five months, I think!”

“KYAAAAAAAAAAH! Your baby is going to be so cute! What’s it’s name? Do you know if it’s a he or a she yet? I can’t wait to be an aunt!”

“Heh, I’m not too sure yet, but I have a feeling it’s going to be a boy!”

Mitsuri squealed again, causing you to laugh at her genuine happiness. She whipped her head behind her and called out to the silently glowering Snake Pillar. “Iguro-san, don’t you think the baby will be cute? I really wish I’ll have some of my own one day!”

You and Shinobu shared a smirk as the Wind Pillar grumpily slapped his friend’s back and dragged the furiously red Iguro away, muttering viciously about not wasting any more time in hunting a Twelve Kizuki.

“Oh look, there's Tomioka-san. Why hasn't he come and said hello yet?”

“Ah well, a lone friendless wolf as always.” Shinobu didn't see you originally visibly brighten at Mitsuri’s words and turn surprised at hers.

Indeed Tomioka was standing awkwardly as always a little - long, actually - way off. What was not as always was that horrified, slack jawed look on his face instead of his usual blank, emotionless one.

“Tomioka-san? Are you alright? You've been making that face for a long time already…” Shinobu's eye twitched, but you didn't notice, suddenly preoccupied with Muichiro’s intense questioning of whether he could play with the baby when it was born.

“She shouldn't be a Hashira.”

The remaining Hashira found themselves narrowing their eyes at the Water Pillar's blunt, if not rude, words.

That would be just one of the many events that further convinced them of his intense dislike of you.

***

You started going over a lot to the Butterfly Mansion over then next few months, becoming a fast favorite among the girls for your cheerful attitude and your baby; even Kanao cracked a smile at you when you came around. When the other Hashira arrived to be healed you always made it a point to go pay them a visit and in turn you pretty soon had every one of them in your back pocket, including the harsh, loudmouthed Wind Pillar Shinazugawa who constantly gave you a jolt with the complete 360 with his attitude around you, to the point you could call him a good friend.

Being friends with him usually meant hearing him grumble about the stupid waterboy.

“Why doesn’t he ever look at you anyway, turning away like that. So rude, that little (beep) (beep) (beep)-”

“Eheh, Shinazugawa-san, don’t swear so loudly, he’ll hear you!”

You had stopped by to Sanemi’s room when Shinobu had mentioned he was there to be patched up after a mission and knowing how busy she was, had offered to go help change his bandages with the basic medical knowledge you had picked up over the years of being a slayer. Reluctantly she had agreed and so here you were, chatting away with him until he spotted Tomioka passing by (he poked his head in actually, otherwise Sanemi would never have noticed him) and started complaining about him once more, especially when you had called out to him and Tomioka had simply whipped his head to the side to stare into the distance.

Really, Sanemi wasn’t the only one to notice how Tomioka avoided you like the plague with that stupid, vacant, red expression of his.

“He’s just shy, he doesn’t mean to be rude!” You defended the poor Pillar, continuing with rewinding the new wrappings.

“Tch, you should see how he acts at the meetings, like he’s better than us or something,” was the growling reply. “(beep) doesn’t know how to (beep) talk with anyone with his (beep) attitude.”

“I don’t think he thinks he’s better than all of you, maybe it’s just something else,” You hum, finishing up. “That’s all! I’m glad the demon didn’t go any further than a scratch.”

Shinazugawa grunted, then his gaze caught yours and softened. “By the way, who’s the dad?”

“Oh, it’s -”

“(y/n)-san!” Three heads peeked in from the door shyly. “Can you come and play with us?”

“Of course! Bye, Shinazugawa!”

Like always the reply was only a “tch”.

***

Another thing was that he never stopped repeating what he said at the first time everyone met you: “She shouldn’t be a Hashira”, going as far as to attempt to prevent you from wielding a sword, although this was only noticed by Tanjiro.

You had agreed to the Kamaboko Squad’s requests (aka demands by Inosuke and begging from Zenitsu) to train together, despite Tanjiro’s worries which you brushed off. The boys were very rambunctious and did tire you out quite a bit, but you were having so much fun and they were so eager you just went on sparring with them until even Inosuke muttered a plead for a quick break, unable to beat your incredible swordsmanship.

“(y/n)-chan!!! Who’s the lucky guy you married?! You never told us and I want to know how he managed to score someone so beautiful like you so I can do it with Nezuko-chan!” Zenitsu simpered, scooting closer, ignoring Tanjiro’s scandalized look.

“What’s married?” Inosuke’s voice was muffled underneath his boar mask and the mountain of onigiri you had brought he was stuffing into his mouth, so none of you heard him.

You giggle, placing a hand on your stomach. “He’s very sweet, although he’s honestly very shy and doesn’t talk much. I’m sure you’ve met him before! Can you guess?”

“Woah, really?” Tanjiro brightened, wondering who it could be, but his next question was interrupted by an interrogative monotone.

“What are you doing? You shouldn’t be training.” Tomioka stood in front of them, the first time anyone had seen him interact with you without just staring at the ground. His face was as empty as the void but there was a tiny crease between his eyebrows and Tanjiro didn’t have to inhale to smell the worry reeking off him.

“I didn’t know you were so concerned about (y/n)-chan, Tomioka-san.” Zenitsu’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his hair while he glowered judgmentally.

Tomioka made no reply, only swiftly grabbing and removing the sword from your hand. “She shouldn’t be a Hashira, much less train. You nearly died fighting a demon not too long ago, you’re in no shape to be doing this.”

With that he abruptly walked off and left Zenitsu and Inosuke to scream at him for being such an un-gentleman and for not fighting with them while you looked away sadly.

Tanjiro wondered why he didn’t once smell dislike on Tomioka. Only fear.

***

“What’s he got against (l/n)?” Obanai joined in on the conversation from his perch on the tree. He’d look for reasons to hate against the Water Pillar all the time, but unlike the others this time round his hatred was justified.

Tengen rolled his eyes flamboyantly. “I know! He’s constantly acting like she’s a pest to be around, but she doesn’t seem to have beef with him. What’s wrong with that bland creature?”

“Oh come on! We don’t actually know if he hates her,” Rengoku protested mildly.

“Then why does he keep refusing to even make eye contact with her?”

“I mean, Iguro, you can’t talk, you only ever look at Kanroji” - Obanai turned away, blushing furiously as Tengen cackled - “but I get your point. The other day I walked in on them arguing. I can’t believe he would keep reminding her of past failures without keeping her current state in mind!”

“Perhaps he only wants to try and convince her to stay safe during this time and discourage her from slaying for now?”

“Rengoku, my best buddy, you’re too optimistic.”

“There’s no other reason he’d give her the cold shoulder 24/7.”

Soon the conversation drifted to other topics, but little would they know Rengoku was the closest to the truth…

***

Shinobu already had enough on her hands with all the screaming, panic and blood, but of course Tomioka just had to show up at the most inopportune moment.

It had been a relatively quiet day as the two of you sat on the engawa, exchanging war stories over tea when with a sudden cry you had doubled over in pain. Your water had broken and you were heading into labour - quickly.

Just barely the Insect Pillar had managed to get you to a bed and sent the Butterfly Girls scurrying for the necessities, hiding her uneasiness at the slight earliness of your boy’s arrival to keep you calm and help you through it. You were doing well under her coaxing to use Total Concentration Breathing, and thankfully Shinazugawa was still around to help you relax with a familiar face.

Then Aoi had burst in with a frantic expression and thundering footsteps from behind that certainly weren’t hers.

“Shinobu-san, Tomioka is demanding to be let in-”

“Keep him out!” Shinobu grimaced, returning her attention to you. She’s heard and seen what he’s like around you, and other than the fact he has no business to be here she didn’t want to send you into a further state of panic. “He doesn’t like her, and if he opens that mouth of his to say anything more I might be responsible for two deaths.”

You dug your nails into Sanemi’s proffered hand, screaming in pain. He winced but said nothing, only looking up with a determined look in his eyes at Shinobu. “I’ll go keep Tomioka out, just make sure she delivers safely.”

Without waiting for a reply Sanemi rushed out to bar the doorway, leaving Shinobu to assure and handle your birthing with the anxious assistance of the Butterfly Girls. The pain in your stomach was surely abominable, intolerable, and Shinobu found herself growing more alarmed with every minute the baby wasn’t coming out.

“(y/n), I need you to push harder, alright? Can you do that for me?”

“N-no - where is he?”

“Your husband? I’ll get someone to call him, don’t worry,” Shinobu lied with dawning horror that in the entire time she had known you…she had no actual idea who you were married to. “But he wouldn’t like you see you like this, right? You can do it. Just keep your breathing under control.”

“JUST (beep) OFF, TOMIOKA!” Shinazugawa’s voice bellowed through the Mansion. His stocky form soon appeared, stubbornly acting as an indomitable barrier against the equally stubborn Tomioka who was desperately trying to barge his way through.

“Tomioka, we don’t need unnecessary people here to worry (y/n) more-”

”THAT’S MY WIFE!”

Whether it was because Tomioka had never raised his voice before or the sheer shock of it all or the fact you reached out for his hand, Shinobu and Sanemi let him through.

***

“I thought I was going to lose you when I heard you screaming like that from outside.” Giyuu nuzzled deeper into your neck, absently stroking your baby’s tiny hand. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

You played with the strands of his hair with a teasing smirk. “You did to, banging into the room like that, with the “That’s my wife!”. It was very romantic of you, Giyuu~”

“I was in a rush.” Giyuu smacked his face into the pillow, embarrassed while you laugh.

“Ara ara~ Are you both done cuddling? I want to perform a quick checkup on your baby now, if you don’t mind, and all the Hashira are here to ask you a lot of things, Tomioka.” Shinobu stood at the doorway with her customary smile, a twitching eye and crossed arms. Behind her were the shadows of the others trying to peek over her shoulder or head into the room to congratulate you on your baby or beat up Tomioka (both for some).

“Ask about what?” Giyuu lifted up his head in confusion. You snort at his obliviousness, cooing at your precious sleeping baby before gently passing him to Shinobu.

“MAYBE ABOUT HOW (Y/N) IS YOUR WIFE AND YOU NEVER TOLD US?”

“KYAAAAAAAAAH! That’s so cute of you, Tomioka!”

“Do you hate us all or something?!”

“No…? No one asked and I thought (y/n) would have told you,” Giyuu said blankly, glancing at you with wide blue eyes. You sheepishly raised your shoulders.

“I tried to tell them but we kept getting interrupted or had no chance.”

“You did make us all think you hated (y/n) with your behaviour, Tomioka.” Shinobu raised an eyebrow. “After all, you rarely spoke to her and when you did it was only to reprimand her, but I can see now it was probably out of worry for your child and her…although rather harshly.”

“Oh!” You burst out laughing, shaking so hard you nearly couldn’t take back your awakening baby Shinobu was handing over. “Giyuu’s just very shy! See-”

You pressed a quick peck to his cheek.

giyuu.exe has stopped working.

[a-driftamongopenstars]

something I find extremely well done with Halsin's character is his sexuality. i've been thinking about it on and off but I wanted to write out my thoughts on the matter because it's really well done!

it's rare to find a good representation of a character with high libido in video games. most of the time it's either used as a tool or as a representation of 'sin'. to be fair, most games don't focus on it and don't put it at the forefront, but Larian has gone far and beyond to include intimacy and questions around sex in their game and showed a whole array of very different people with very different tastes. they showed a whole spectrum, from asexuality to the very other end.

with Halsin, his drive is never judged. it's a big part of his character, but not because he's obsessed with it or it's all he thinks about - it's simply a thing he enjoys doing, it makes him feel good and he likes making other people feel good. you can tell it's one of the ways he connects with those he cares about.

and the thing is, he's never judged. he's not the butt of the joke for his desires, it's a part of his druidic nature as well as a part of self. it's beautiful!

he is also so extremely good about boundaries and a healthy discussion of expectations. he never steps over any lines, he is always keeping a door open for more discussion if necessary, he never pushes but he also respects himself greatly. he shows vulnerability when it feels safe to do so.

and like i said, while it's a big part of him, it's also not his whole personality. he is an experienced man who knows what he's about, he is touched by awful trauma, both from his youth but also his more recent times, but his sexuality is not the product of it - it's just who he is.

i love finding mature characters in video games as i myself get older and I love watching devs tackle characters who had a chance and time to grow and become something, someone. in this case, Halsin is so well done, it raises the bar very high for me.

all in all, I'm just really glad they turned him into a proper companion and expanded his story. i know the joke is to thank the "thirsty fans", but really, Larian did very well with him and I think they gave him a very good part in this amazing adventure while also representing a lot of people who are condemned as sex-crazed by the society but are actually just. people.

[anantaru]

— dodging his kiss

including kaveh, thoma, xiao, scaramouche x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, i love making them suffer

— kaveh

"hey no fair! give me a kiss."

nonsense. utter nonsense. kaveh wondered what had started all of this.

the urge, or let's rephrase that, the sudden interest you took to squabble at every minuscule situation, alternating between being his sweet significant other or turning into a taunting little devil.

again, before he was about to leave for the akademiya, kaveh helplessly required from you to send him off with a kiss, just one, but as he went on to fill the distance between you both, you quickly tipped your head to the side in order for him to barely hit your cheek.

he's frowning, the warm air he exhaled tiptoeing on your skin.

"why are you like this?" for an individual as romantic as kaveh seemed to be, you sure had him on the edge the entire time, tickling out every sweet reaction you desired to witness and archons, was he easy to get to this state.

one might think that being roommates with the scribe surely had his sensitive nerves tightened, had them turned to clear, unbreakable diamonds that weren't able to be messed with.

"you're cute when you're angry." you shamelessly admitted back to him, benevolently conveying the sweetest smile you had stored while watching him pout, settling for a closer spot next to you when he ultimately caged you in with his arms.

and when he was hardly an inch away from your face, kaveh decided to give you a taste of your own, bitter medicine.

"really? so you're only cute when you're nice."

dramatically, and in his usual fashion, kaveh tipped his head back to deflect his attention from you to the ceiling, nervously waiting for a response back while also mentally praying to the dendro archon that he didn't cause you any pain with his words.

you see, it was quite seldom for him to tease you back, to push you over the edge because in reality he clearly enjoyed the differences in personalities you both shared.

it's also safe to say that he preferred your minimal plays to that of his roommates, who'd always go too far like last time when he casually decided to grab both keys, making it impossible for kaveh to sleep in their shared home so that he had to come over, in the midst of the night, to stay overnight at your place.

(not that you mind, if anything, you'd love it when alhaitham could repeat the corresponding situation as much as he desired to.)

your smile, in a sudden, slowly disappears when it after a couple of seconds, rose back up in a contagious laughter, your palm subconsciously hiding your mouth, "you're really bad at this."

with your final words, you quickly grabbed his chin to pull him closer for a kiss, missing his bewildered guise when you drew yourself back again.

"i have other qualities, you know?"

kaveh spoke in a low tone, a little hazy, still seeking for more when he had long since forgotten that he actually wanted to leave for the akademiya.

— thoma

"hey." kindly, thoma carried your hand in his palm when he gently brought you to his warm chest, "my break is almost over."

he looks sullen, thoma was saddened that he couldn't spend more time with you, just a little longer, but it had been quite a busy evening today in which he was greatly required, his helping hands were obviously not to be compared with any other.

thoma gingerly hooked his arms around your waist before flaring his soft lips over your forehead, attempting to lower his face to place a chaste, goodbye kiss on top of your lips.

little does he realize you didn't actually plan to receive said affection from him as you swiftly flopped your head to the right direction so he'd clumsily hit your ear instead.

"uh-" at first he thought it was him who took an incorrect approach on this, supposedly seizing the right opportunity at the wrong time.

"i'm sorry." he nervously laughs at you while anxiously rubbing his neck, his eyes a bit scrunched together.

you shouldn't be so joyful when he tapped right into your scheme, fell into it head first, more so when he attempted to kiss you right again, this time being slightly embarrassed and irritated that he had messed it up the first time.

because how on earth did he even manage to accomplish that?

and when thoma carried on with his endeavor, you, at full tilt, angled your head to the left side, ensuring that he missed again.

as disoriented as he was at present, he recalled the past few seconds and skimmed through the situation at hand, his undisturbed utterance evolving into a coquettish guise, "really now?"

your chest muscles pitched together when you puffed out a breathless laugh, excessively amused by his bafflement, well, maybe you were a little pain sometimes, but that's what made thoma fall in love with you in the first place.

"my love." he instantaneously speaks up upon catching a glimpse of your triumphant smile bolstering around the corners of your lips, "i need a kiss from you, right now." he made sure to speak the last words exceptionally clear, as to get his point across.

you're welcoming him, eventually twisting your hands around his neck to place a warm kiss on his lips, mumbling out an innocent 'sorry', yet you cannot find the proper tone in your voice to say it, because in reality you weren't sorry in the slightest.

"why do i feel like you aren't actually sorry?"

though bristling with joy, thoma wasn't actually oblivious as well as new to your usual approaches.

the hilarity of it all was heartwarming, or the new perspective of affection shared by you.

before you let him go at last, you gently pulled him to you so your lips would hover on his ear, aiming to set your intentions clear.

whispering, "because i‘m not."

— xiao

on a tranquilizing evening, your lashes slowly fluttered wide to divulge your eyes to xiao while still remaining enclosed by his arms.

idly, you paid attention to the low thumps of his heart under his ribcage. Your grin was wide from ear to ear, happy at how peaceful it had gotten when you perceived how xiao begun to sluggishly roll himself up.

he tried his utter best to rouse himself from the relaxing atmosphere, to split himself from the slothful— he so referred to it, climate to return to his established routine.

"i have to go now." his golden eyes were all the more compelling under the dim lighting, illuminating their instinctive glowing when he centralized his focus on you. "i will return afterwards."

his breathing nervously hitched, a little, before he decided to add something to his intuitive words, "if you want me to."

delicately, you placed your hand on top of his to calmly ghost your thumb over his knuckles, "of course, i always want you to visit me."

at the realization of your words, xiao's face elated with a rosy shade, a diligent smile creating small wrinkles on his handsome face while his ears tipped a red color.

with another innocent flutter of his eyelashes, he carefully sank back to your frame, aiming to complete his visit with a serene, pacifying kiss.

but, given you were on quite the adventure today, or maybe you had gotten a bit intrigued and interested as to how someone like xiao would react to your almost menacing schemes, you directly dodged his kiss which had him hit your pillow instead.

oblivious to the entire situation you had carefully planted onto him, his face shrunk, "i.. i apologize." yet before you could retort to his words, he insisted in trying it a second time.

his gaze was visibly confused, again when he sought out your left cheek as a substitute, suffering once more when you skillfully dodged it without moving a single muscle.

his reverent, peaceful behavior was threatened by you, as well as your, over the top, innocent stare even after pulling through with your evilness.

"what's the meaning of this?" xiao was commenting on your behavior, his lips were vaguely pursed in a confused way, accentuating the small wrinkles on his forehead. "what do you mean?"

you acknowledged your boyfriend's question but replied in an opposite direction, concealing a bright laugh.

xiao's eyes were a tone lower when he fully sank to you, just about to nearly tower over you.

"you're doing this on purpose." he carefully placed your cheek in his palm before gently ghosting his thumb over your lips, as to try to regain some sort of control over the situation because now, he had you actually figured out.

yet do not get him wrong because contrary to popular believe, xiao found it quite amusing whenever you set forth a somewhat childish, playful behavior like this one in particular.

you weren't a boring human and the small ministrations were usually the highlight of his entire day, like a ray of sunlight peaking from behind the dense, darkened clouds.

"maybe i did." you bluntly chimed back to him, audaciously smiling and cradling his wrist with your hand while leaning into his palm, absorbing his welcoming affability.

"and why is that?" his voice grew calmer and soft, xiao didn't smile often but whenever he did, it's as if the whole world would stand still of a sudden, allowing time to freeze on its entirety.

his senses began to feel the tranquility in your lowered breathing as he suffocated the distance from you, tamely positioning his lips on top of yours, rendering you speechless.

— scaramouche

fundamentally speaking, when scaramouche appeared to be piqued by an irritating occurrence, it was often for him to find comfort in your company, purifying in your gentle clasp.

"the audacity some people display on a daily basis." he heaves at you, slurring while anger thrummed in his body. "whatever." he clicked his tongue.

quickened, scaramouche rubbed his eyes, tampering through his thoughts when his lids fluttered wide to scamper over your face. "at least this boring day is close to its end." your brightened laugh served as a response to his mumbling, vibrating through his being.

archons, how dearly he had missed you, scaramouche longed to see you each passing hour of the day, to at last, be tightly entangled in your arms again, candidly arriving home.

yet as he was appearing to nervously fidget with your shirt, amplifying that he was in his thoughts, you tilted your head to the side to conveniently survey over his features.

and when he noticed, a rush of excitement tipped its way to his cheeks, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

"i think you haven't kissed me today, kuni." you suddenly speak, complying with his thoughts and sometimes scaramouche asked himself if you actually were proficient in reading his thoughts.

"i haven't?" he's a little coy, scattering his hand over your collarbones before settling on your cheek, blood rushing through your face, "i should change that."

you made sure to give yourself a mental applaud later by how easy you had him laced around your finger with kuni being perfectly set for your so called prank.

he didn't waste much time to get to his promise, eagerly striving to kiss your lips when you swiftly clasped your hand on top of your mouth, leaving him behind— utterly bewildered.

his hands tightly clung into the soft bedsheets next to you, his brows furrowing together in confusion, "seriously?"

with all the galling, tiresome people scaramouche had to deal with today, this surely was the icing on top, not to mention how it came from his own significant other.

he slowly pulled away to see you laugh frantically, trying to figure out how to explain this to him, "so this is funny to you?" he takes a moment to summarize before at once, targeting your belly to tickle and pinch the flesh.

you squealed out in surprise, "ah— no please!" unexpectedly you began to beg, evoking whiny screams from your throat, which were now thoroughly in vein, your once innocent scheme twisting into his grasp when scaramouche continued to tickle and pinch you, "now, now."

he's lowering his face to you, smiling when he perceived your warm cheeks and amusing expression, his voice tinted with something akin to hilarity and glee, "how disgraceful of you to fool me like this."

"you're one to talk." you immediately bite back, your hands lifting up to his face to playfully squeeze his squishy cheeks in your palms, "i was trying to see how you'd react."

you disclosed your real intention behind your show, innocently pouting as to convince him to stop the abuse on your belly.

"i think i deserve more than that." scaramouche proceeded to ghost his hand over your stomach, sinking closer to your frame to try again, with you this time knowing well to suffocate any tricks in the near future.

you're greeting him with an affectionate kiss, melting into him while soliciting the warm hearted love you held towards each other.

"maybe i should punish you like this more often." - "please don't."

©2023 anantaru do not share, copy, translate any of my work

[chelseasdagger]

Teacher - Chapter III

Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!Reader

Summary: Frank invites you to hang out with him at a bar on the outskirts of town. After some good food, and lots of teasing, you get invited back to his place to take care of the problem you caused him.

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), mentions of drinking and smoking, cursing, grinding, detailed handjob sorry, slight praise kink

Author's Note: I am so incredibly sorry for how long it took for this chapter to come out!! I had a lot of life issues that delayed this, but I'm pretty happy with how this turned out so please accept this super long chapter as my apology/holiday gift!! And if you want to be added to the tag list just let me know. As always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!

Word Count: 9k

Previous Chapters: I, II

“So I was thinkin’… Said you didn’t get many experiences even after high school, right?” Frank asks. His voice slightly muffled through the phone, which is wedged between your ear and your shoulder as you drag the spatula over the food you’re cooking on the stove. He had randomly rang you out of the blue and, after attempting to control your breathing, you answered the call. This was what he chose to greet you with and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t confused by the topic of conversation.

“Good morning to you too,” you tease, the food sizzling as you flip it in the pan. “But no, I haven’t. Why? What’s up?” you question.

“There’s this bar on the edge of town,” he begins his offer. “Little bit of a drive but they got good food,” he explains. 

“Tempting…” you trail off, trying not to immediately agree just because it’s Frank. “Who all is coming?”

“Just me,” he replies. “That alright?”

“Yeah!” Your answer is too loud and far too fast to be playing it cool. After cursing yourself mentally, you try again. “Yeah, I was just wondering if it was a whole… get-together thing.” Your voice grows quiet at the end, not wanting to plant the idea in his head that you’d prefer it if there were more people.

Honestly, you were surprised he was reaching out this soon after the bonfire. It was one of the best nights of your life. Whenever you think about it, there’s this warmth that rushes through you; you’re not sure if the heat was from the big flames or his strong chest you laid against all night.

“Nah, just me. Just thought it would be somethin’ you might like,” you push the spatula around in the teflon pan as he speaks. “Plus it’s another thing off the list, right?”

“Yeah, it is! Thanks, Frank,” you say cheerily as you turn the burner off and open the cupboards to grab two plates.

“No problem, kid. Just thought about you, y’know?” You sink your teeth in your lower lip to calm yourself down before another thought comes to mind.

“Oh! When are we going?”

“Tonight,” he answers nonchalantly and your eyes grow wide. “If you’re free.”

You seriously weren’t expecting him to want to see you only two days since you two were last together. In your head, Frank is so calm and collected and you’re practically certain that this… thing you two have going on isn’t as big of a deal to him as it is to you. Still, you try not to question too much why he actually seems to enjoy having you around. Instead, you decide to just take the good as it comes.

“I am, I can do tonight. But I’m not sure I have something to wear. Is it like a club? Should I dress up or is it more jeans and—?” You don’t even realize when your voice picks up in speed and the questions fly out faster than you intend for them to, but Frank is quick to center you out of the beginning of your spiral.

“Just wear somethin’ cute, alright? I’ve seen some of your outfits, sweetheart, you’ll be fine.” You bite the inside of your cheek at his comment and inhale deeply before sighing. “I’ll pick you up at six, okay?” You hum an agreement as he confirms the time and say a goodbye before hanging up.

As you pull the phone away from your ear, you see an incoming text from your best friend drop down from the top of the screen.

“I’m two minutes away! I can’t wait to hear everything.”

That night when you got home from the bonfire, she had sent many texts in hopes of finding out the reasoning behind the newfound closeness between you and Frank. In your exhausted and slightly inebriated state, you told her that you would have her over Saturday morning to explain it all to her. You were much too tired to string the words together and you also know how she can tend to put her own emotions onto words; the last thing you needed was for her to hear the little arrangement you and Frank have and blow it out of proportion.

You set the table as you wait for her, making sure to leave a mug beside her plate for her tea that tends to be the staple of her breakfast. By the time the food is divvied up for each of you, there’s an impatient knock at the door. You shake your head with a smile as you open the door and she’s pushing past you as the questions immediately begin to roll off her tongue.

After guiding her to the small dining table in the kitchen, you watch her sit down and her eyes never stray from you. Her voice continues to fill the air as she talks over herself; there’s no distinct end to one sentence and the beginning of the next. By the time you’re sitting beside her and about to dig into your meal she finally covers her mouth, stopping all the enthusiastic queries she desperately wants to know.

“I’m gonna let you talk,” she mumbles behind her palms. You laugh at her attempts to force herself to be quiet and pick up a forkful of your food.

“I promise you it’s not as exciting as you think it is,” you warn her before popping the food in your mouth.

You start at the beginning—trying to skim over the details of your not-so-controlled crush on Frank as well as the more heated parts of the things you two have done together. Excited gasps fill the space surrounding the dining table and you watch as her eyes go wide when you mention it was his idea. Her mouth gets the better of her though and she begins to ask more questions while you speak. You make sure to answer all of them in time, save for a few chuckles here and there, before finishing your last bite.

“I actually have a question for you now,” you start again, watching as confusion washes over her features. “Frank called me this morning and he wants to take me out to this bar he likes. I just don’t know what to wear and I was hoping… you could help me?” You hesitantly look up to face her and you’re met with a beaming grin.

“Is this a date?! Is this the first one? Are you going back to his place after?” You shake your head once again as the sudden influx of questions fill the air.

“No, it’s not a date. I mean… I don’t think it is?” you let your thought process be shown aloud and watch as her giddy expression comes back to the surface. “It’s not! We’re just friends and he’s doing me a favor. I’m sure of it.” You decide then and there that you can’t afford to hold out hope and expect more than what he’s given you—which is already so much.

She raises her eyebrows up from behind the rim of her mug and you scoff at her knowing look. You brush your hand through your hair and try your hardest to not let your anxiety creep in about the idea of being on a proper date with Frank Castle.

And so together the two of you spend the afternoon diving through your closet together for something that could fit. It felt similar to a movie montage where the teenage girls toss different colorful fabrics through the air. With a growing pile on the floor of your bedroom, she gasps once you stand in the completed outfit.

“That’s the one!” she says excitedly before tugging you towards the bathroom. “Time for makeup!” She eagerly pats for you to sit on the counter while searching through your, admittedly limited, makeup bag. Doing the best with what she’s got, she gets to work on the eyeshadows and blush, finishing up with a curl of your eyelashes and combing mascara through them. You always loved how focused she got when it was time for something special; her tongue pokes past her lips as she concentrates, her eyes squinting to get the very last detail to sit right.

Once she’s satisfied, she spins you around to see yourself in the mirror and you’re actually surprised at how nice it all came together. You’re wearing an oversized, comfy jumper, tights that line your legs, and a black skirt that accentuates your frame. It’s not too fancy, but the black tights make your outfit more sleek and you silently hope that Frank will like it. As you fluff your hair up to give it some more volume, you thank her behind a wide smile.

A buzz of excitement rushes through you as you wait by the front door and hear the heavy revving from the engine of Frank’s van. You physically shake your arms in an attempt to let go of some of the nerves that built up and your friend gives you a quick hug.

“You got it, baby!” she encourages sweetly. “Have fun!” she calls out as you slip past the door. Making your way down your porch steps, you hear her shout something else from behind you. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

You chuckle at her warnings and make your way to the big, black van. You open the door and find Frank sitting with his elbow on his armrest and his head in his palm as he turns to face you. You stand there for a moment and await his initial reaction to your outfit. His eyes widen slightly before they rake over your boy, his lips parting as he takes it all in.

He brushes his thumb along the defined line of his jaw before sinking his teeth into his lower lip. His eyes settle on the small slit of the skirt that rests high on your thigh. There’s a pause for a moment before he finally speaks up.

“Told you you’d find somethin’ cute.” He fixes his posture and gives you a smile as you roll your eyes and sit in the passenger seat. Being with him felt easy now—of course there’s still the butterflies, which you’re expecting to make a permanent home in your stomach any day now, but it’s mostly when you’re about to see him. When you’re actually in his presence, it all fades away and you love how comfortable he makes you feel.

If you had told yourself a few weeks ago that you’d be on a half hour car ride with Frank Castle to the outskirts of town, she probably would’ve brushed it off as some sick joke. But here you are, sitting beside him and watching as he flips through radio stations until he settles on a classic rock song. You enjoyed getting to discover little pieces of him the more time you spent with him.

As he drives under the lamp posts longing the winding roads, you watch as the passing lights illuminate his face before it’s cloaked in shadows of the night once again. Each time you move underneath them, light showcases his features in a warm glow for mere moments at a time. You think your new favorite thing might be when the gleam seeps into the small dip in the bridge of his nose. That small highlight makes you smile and he catches it as he turns to look at you once you’re stopped at a red light.

“What is it?” he questions, his eyes squinting slightly as he looks at you. With a shake of your head, you face back to the light strung up in the air. His gaze doesn’t leave the side of your face though, and you know he’ll want an answer.

“This is just nice,” you shrug your shoulders. “Thank you for thinking of me,” you add. You want to make sure he knew how happy you were to be doing this, despite your quiet nature due to your fear of somehow screwing this up with your words.

“Haven’t even done anything,” he laughs softly.

“Well, I’m still enjoying myself,” you reply in a gentle tone. Frank doesn’t say anything more as he continues to look at you. The light changes and a green glow washes over your face, queuing him to face the open road once again. You glance down as his hand moves to the gear shift, trying not to focus too long on how the veins in his hand are accentuated as he curls his fingers around the knob.

Frank speaks up again after a moment and you quickly recenter your attention. He engages you in some light conversation and pretty soon you’re laughing along to his comedic storytelling. You don’t even realize you’ve arrived until he’s put the car in park and turns the key off in the ignition. Looking out from behind the glass in front of you, you see the neon lights surrounding the big, bold letters of the name of the bar. It shines brightly in the night sky and acts as a small beacon in the dark parking lot.

You look up at the sound of the driver side door closing and realize Frank has left the car. You reach for your bag that’s resting on the floor between your feet and by the time you move for the handle, he’s opening your door for you. It’s the first time you’re able to truly take him in. He’s wearing a pair of nicely fitting blue jeans and a grey jacket, complete with the black boots you’ve never seen him without. You can’t tell what he’s wearing under the thick material that conceals his chest though, and you find yourself hoping it’s something tighter and hugs his torso.

“You ready?” he asks, and you nod in response. “Alright, watch your step,” he warns and you feel his hand bracing your upper arm as you hop out from the slightly lifted van. Once you’re secure on the ground, the two of you begin making your way towards the entrance. As you pass by the cars parked in organized rows under dim lamplights, you begin to make out the few scattered people smoking and even spot a couple sharing a cigarette just outside the main doors.

Once inside the building, he shrugs off the jacket and you can finally piece together his outfit. Frank’s broad shoulders stretch the fabric of the dark blue button up shirt. It’s tucked into his denim pants and secured with a black belt. He fits the attire of everyone else here in the bar, but still stands over a head taller than the rest—not to mention infinitely more attractive. You try desperately to rip your eyes away from him, and in doing so, take in the scenery of the pub.

The bar is crowded but not so occupied that you can’t move. The loud, overlapping voices meld to create a soft droning that accompanies the background. It doesn’t stand a chance to the band though, whose loud amplifiers cause a shake in your chest with each note they strum. Polished wood lines the walls and there’s photographs of smiling people decorating them, forever cherished behind glass frames. It feels oddly homey, admittedly impressive for a place you’ve never stepped foot into before tonight.

You accidentally bump into Frank and he steadies you with his large hands on your waist. He’s staring down at you with a subtle smile on his face. He begins to talk but you don’t have the slightest clue what he’s saying; the song that’s playing is far too loud to hear the lower tone of his voice. Shaking your head with a frown, you let him know you can’t understand him and his smile grows wider. He then leans down, his fingers brushing your hair away from your ear before he speaks.

“Asked if you wanted to eat,” he starts, his breath immediately warming the side of your neck. With just those few words, it feels like all the other noise falls away. All you can focus on is the rumble in his voice and how the words feel as if they dance down your spine. “I’m starving,” he adds, and you’re certain your new headspace gave his words a different context than he intended.

He pulls away for your response and all you can muster up is a slow blink and a delayed nod. There’s no cocky smirk at your expression and you wonder if maybe he decided to spare you the embarrassment this time. He promptly turns and you fall in line beside him, letting him guide you around the crowd. His palm finds its way to your lower back as he leads you and just like that, your heart picks up in pace once more.

You’ve only seen the same small movement depicted in movies and you can now safely say that experiencing it is so much more exhilarating. Part of you is frustrated that such an insignificant touch can make you this excited, but Frank’s charm has a tremendous effect on you. Still, you tell yourself it’s the anticipation of his hand being elsewhere on your body that riles you up.

His hand stays put until the two of you reach a booth lining the back wall. There’s a small lamp that bathes the whole table in a warm glow and you and Frank place your things down before sliding into the long seats. As you stare at him from across the table, you watch as his eyes scan the crowd and then the main stage as he focuses on the band. They’re currently playing a cover of a classic rock song and Frank smiles as he nods his head to the music.

“This place is nice,” you raise your voice slightly to be heard over the music. He turns to face you and his smile grows wider.

“Yeah? You like it?” His question is accompanied by your own nod and he continues. “I’m sure there’s fancier ones close to town, but I’ve been coming here for years and they’ve always been good.”

He raises his hand in the air, tilting his head up and leaning to the side as if to catch someone’s attention. You follow his line of sight and look over your shoulder to see a woman with a black apron tied around her waist. She looks slightly past you as a grin covers her face and walks over to your table quicker than you expected.

“Frank?! What are you doing here?” Her voice is already grating and she’s only said a handful of words. Her tone is drawn out, almost flirtatiously, and she stands closer to him than you would’ve liked.

“Just showing her around,” he answers simply. He looks at you and when the waitress does the same, her face falls. You muster up an awkward smile and try to shake off the weird look she gives you. “She’s never been here before, you think we could get some menus?”

“Sure thing,” she mumbles, stepping away only to return a moment later with two long, laminated sheets of paper. She drops them to the table and you spare yourself the trouble of looking at her again.

“She sure seems to like you,” you speak up once she’s left. Frank scoffs before grabbing a menu and shaking his head. “Did you see the way she looked at me? What did I do?” You ask with a frown, wondering if you did something unintentionally.

“She’s probably just pissed cause you’re sitting with me and she’s not,” he answers with a sigh. He flips the paper around and you notice the way his eyes dart around the page. His answer wasn’t very reassuring though, and you still feel the tension in your body. As you scan the small print of the menu in your hands, you can feel his gaze on you. You try to shake the disappointment and to make it less obvious that what she said affected you, but you’re not certain how good of an actress you are.

“Y’know what?” he speaks up after a few seconds. You raise your face to him as he continues, “I know this place a couple of blocks down? Best god damn beer I’ve had.” His hand disappears under the table and a moment later you see his fingers curled around his jacket. “It’s German! You haven’t tried that one before.” He leans across the table before whispering, “You’re gonna hate it.”

His attempts at distracting you work well and you can’t help the laughter escaping you at the final thing he said. Frank’s own crooked smile returns at your reaction and a softness settles into his brown eyes.

“There she is,” he mumbles once he sees your regular self bubble back up to the surface. You bring in a deep breath and choose to shake off any residual awkwardness you felt from before.

“No, no it’s okay. We can stay here.” You finish your sentence and look back towards the music before facing him. His hands are empty now as he continues to stare at you and you feel confident in your choice to stay.

After looking over the endless list of drinks, burgers, and other appetizers, you read a description of a sandwich that makes your stomach rumble to life. You immediately decide on it without a second thought and smile up at Frank, watching him run his finger across the page between two options and looking quite indecisive.

Before long, the ill behaved waitress is back to take down your order. You pick your sandwich, remembering to take off the toppings you aren’t too fond of, add in an order of fries, and your usual favorite drink to top it off. With a hesitant glance up, you see her scribbling down your order on the small notepad in her hand. Her expression is twisted up as if she smelled something foul and you feel that uneasy feeling settling in once more.

“I’ll have the same as my date here,” Frank answers before she can ask about his meal. He gently taps the two menus on the tabletop before handing them over to her. His lips part as his eyes drag over your features and you notice the way they stop for a little longer than they should when they reach your mouth.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You weren’t sure if he said it just to get under her skin or not but part of you didn’t really care. He said it regardless and that made a smile carve its way onto your face. An annoyed scoff is heard from above and you see a hand come into view to snatch the menus away from Frank. He never looked away from you once.

The moment the food arrives, you’re excitedly grabbing your sandwich and lifting it to your mouth. As your teeth sink into the toasted bread, the flavor hits your tongue and a satisfied moan escapes you. Frank is quick to lift his eyes at the sound, his eyebrows raising as he takes in the scene in front of him. You raise your hand to your mouth and begin to grow bashful at the look on his face.

“Sorry!” You apologize, your voice muffled behind your palm. “It was just really good,” you explain once you swallow your food down.

“Don’t gotta apologize for that, kid,” he replies through his own raspy chuckle. You bite your lip and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before reaching for the fries in your basket next.

The two of you dig into your identical meals and make some easy conversation in between bites here and there. You’re honestly impressed with how good the sandwich is and you’re glad you picked it out of the infinite number of items on the menu. Frank wasn’t lying when he said he loved this place. You watch him look up from his meal every now and then with a big smile on his face as he moves his head to the beat of the music. His energy was infectious and you found yourself tapping your toes along too. 

“Y’know,” he speaks up after finishing the last bite of his sandwich. At the sound of his voice, you begin to look up to his face, but your eyes latch on to something else. Frank sucks his fingers clean of the salt from his fries, his lips pursing as his cheeks hollow, and you immediately lose any grip you had on controlling your thoughts around him.

“When we ordered I saw your beer on the menu.” You hear his words but they have absolutely no meaning, no way of stringing them together to make a continuous thought as you watch him suck the seasonings from his thumb. You begin to feel a sense of injustice at the fact that those fingers weren’t where you desperately wanted them to be. With a pout, you look back to his gaze and see the confusion clear in his eyes.

“What?” you blurt out, finally remembering he had spoken and that you hadn’t processed anything he had said. He scoffs before shaking his head, his smirk spreading wide across his face before he speaks again.

“Said they have the beer you like here,” he repeats himself, his cocky grin a clear indicator that he saw how you froze up at sight just moments ago.

“I’m actually good tonight,” you say confidently. Reaching for your glass, you take a sip of your drink and hold his gaze as you stare at him from under your eyelashes. He sits back against the cushion of the booth and his eyebrows pull together as he thinks about what you said.

“Yeah?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you.

“Mhm, not letting a few beers stop me from what I wanna do after this,” you explain. You’ve never felt more frustrated than when he stopped you from kissing on his neck. You understood why he did it, and are actually very thankful he didn’t want it to go further, but the disappointment coursed through you all the same.

“Hmm? And what exactly is that?” he questions as the band finishes up the song they had been playing. Your eyes follow the noise as the crowd erupts into whistles and claps, applauding the musicians. When you finally look back over, Frank’s in the same position. It’s like he never looked away from you—hell, you’re not sure if he even blinked.

You don’t answer him though and make up your mind to keep him on the edge of his seat. Instead, you smile sweetly before picking up a fry from your basket and popping it past your lips. 

He gives you a knowing look, but doesn’t pry. Perhaps he was looking forward to the surprise of it all. You only hope you can remain as confident as you feel now so you can properly act out your plan. Before long, he swallows down his last french fry and Frank speaks up with a question.

“You wanna go dance?” Your whole body freezes at the mere thought of attempting to dance, not to mention the added nerves of doing it in a crowded room with Frank Castle standing witness. But as you look out onto the dance floor full of moving bodies, you realize most of them are probably far too intoxicated to really pay attention to you. Deciding to push past the initial fear, and wanting to be fully present with him and have fun, you nod and scoot out of the booth.

Frank stands in front of you and his hand soon comes into view of your eyeline. You place your hand in his and feel his fingers curl around your palm as you brace your weight on him and rise to your feet. You stand on your toes and motion for him to come closer so you can speak into his ear.

“Just so you know, I’m a terrible dancer,” you say after he’s tilted his head towards you.

“What part of me screams that I’m a good one?” he asks, and you chuckle at his joke. He smiles down at your laughter and nods his head behind him, letting you know he’s going to the dancefloor.

Frank keeps a hold of your hand as he leads you through the crowd. His broad body splits the sea of bodies as he walks and you follow close enough behind him to squeeze past them as well. There’s blue hues from the dim lights that shine over the people, but other than that you can’t see much beside their moving feet. He must’ve gotten to a clearing where there’s not as many people bumping into one another, because he stops walking and turns to you.

You’re sort of frozen still for a moment as the reality of it is beginning to creep in. But then Frank starts to shimmy his shoulders and you can’t help but break into a wide grin. Just like that, you’re thawed. The awkwardness you felt is starting to leave you as you begin to loosen up in front of him.

The band plays a fun, upbeat song that you don’t recognize, but he seems to be making the moves up as he goes along. You follow his direction, copying him but still keep some distance, trying to slowly shake off those nerves that are still lingering around. Suddenly, Frank does a move that you can’t even begin to describe with words alone and you burst into laughter as you watch him. Holding your stomach, you shake your head at him and he begins to laugh too. 

The band then retires from the stage, saying their farewells as the crowd applauds and whistles. Frank claps along with the rest of them and you cup your hands around your mouth to give a small cheer. You really enjoyed their set and wouldn’t mind coming back here again to watch them play once more.

Once the stage is clear, music begins to play over the speakers and Frank’s face lights up. His excitement is clear after just the first few notes.

“God, this takes me back,” his wide grin causes his eyes to squint up. You smile up at him, happy at his enjoyment, but you can’t help your head from tilting to the side confusedly.

“You haven’t heard this before?” he asks incredulously and you shake your head. “It’s literally my favorite song, how do you not know this?”

“When did it come out?” you ask, and watch him look up as he starts to think.

“Must’ve been… right after graduation, I think?” He does the math for a moment longer before answering with the year it was released. The answer has you fighting back a giggle as you stare at him awkwardly.

“Frank, I wasn’t born until two years later,” you answer honestly, and the look on his face is priceless.

“Jesus Christ…” he replies, dragging his hand down his face. You begin to worry now, wondering if you shouldn’t have brought up that point. He must’ve caught a glance at your anxious frown because he’s quick to explain himself.

“You’re fine just… my back hurt when you said that.” His hand comes to the back of his neck to emphasize his point and your smile finds its way back to your lips.

Despite the initial embarrassment you ran into after being reminded again of the gap in age between you and Frank, you found yourself really enjoying the song. He was honest when he said it was one of his favorites. You’ve never seen him this lively before and you love being able to soak up every minute of it. He’s so animated as he dances, holding you close to him with his hand secured at your back. The lines to the song fall past his lips like muscle memory as his forehead presses to yours.

You can’t stand being this close to him. Your whole body feels like it’s been shot with a current of electricity and you’re desperately wanting him to stop singing and put his mouth to yours. He might have a sixth sense—or simply just picked up on the timing—because his lips are on yours a second later. He kisses you deeply, his tongue brushing your lower lip for a moment before you eagerly let him in. Your head tilts to the side as you kiss him back and your arm wraps around his wide shoulders to ensure you’ll have your fill.

All too soon he’s breaking the kiss and you immediately suck your bottom lip behind your teeth to savor the feeling of him. He suddenly lifts his arm into the air and cues you to spin. You twirl under his hand with a huge grin and then he yanks you in for the finish, timing it so that your back is to his chest when you land against him. His same palm immediately finds your hip and tightens to keep you flush to him. His opposite hand travels down the length of your torso, his index finger tracing your side as he moves.

He begins to whisper the lyrics against your ear and you can’t bring yourself to focus on their meaning. He’s all over you and it’s making you feel dizzy, as if you’re drunk on his scent alone. Each pass of his finger along your ribs alights a fire at your side and you try to keep up as he begins rocking you from side to side to the rhythm of the song. His breath warms the entire side of your face and neck with each word he whispers. You fall under his spell and roll your head to the side at the feeling of his warmth all over.

When the song starts to fade and a new one begins overlapping it, you’re left with a bittersweet feeling; part of you never wanted to leave that moment and would gladly listen to that song on loop for the rest of your life, but the other half of you was almost frightened at how easily you turned to putty in his hands. You felt the need to have a better grasp on yourself, especially if you wanted to stay courageous for what you had planned for tonight.

The mix of two songs smoothen down into one and you instantly recognize the slow, sexy bassline that’s pumping through the speakers overhead. You’re not sure what came over you. Perhaps you wanted to prove to someone that you’re not that same timid, little girl. Whatever it was that coursed through your veins, you’re thankful that it gave you the strength to grab his large palm and put it back into place at your hip. You use the extra support to push your ass back into him, making sure to press hard enough until you feel the bulge in his jeans.

Frank doesn’t show any reaction except for his fingers tightening into your skin as if you were a lifeline. You smile as you continue to grind into him, your hips following the similar movements he taught you just a few days prior. Facing away from him gives you the extra boost of confidence needed to perform this act, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t kill to see the look on his face right now.

With each push of your ass against the denim fabric, you feel the heat of his bulge so close to where your own warmth had started to pool. This felt good and you felt pride surging through your chest once you realized exactly what you were doing.

And then his arm crosses your chest and pulls you flat against him once more. His forearm is pressed against your collarbones and you feel your breath hitch at the hold he has you in. With a shaky inhale, you swallow down the lump in your throat and wait for him to speak.

“Look at you, sweetheart,” the tip of his nose brushes the curve of your ear and you try your damndest to not let your body double over. “Someone’s getting confident, huh?” His arm begins to slowly drop from across your chest, and instead reaches your lower stomach. From there, he applies pressure until you’re as close as you could be to him.

“You feel that? Hmm?” There’s an undeniable hardness under the thick layers of fabric. It doesn't feel as big as the last time he got turned on from you, but it’s still noticeable. “That’s all you,” he finishes with a lower tone of voice before taking half a step back and leaving you to sit with his words.

It takes you a moment to wrap your head around this entire situation. It’s abundantly clear that the mood has changed from light laughter and awful dance moves to something more sultry. You can feel the warmth slowly spreading between your legs and it leaves you with a buzz that makes you feel like your movements are slowed. When you turn around to finally face him, he’s already staring down at you expectedly.

“Why don’t we get outta here?” he asks, deep voice blending in with the booming bass. You nod at him and it feels like you’re moving in molasses. The dull, blue light from above catches his face for a moment. There’s something deeper to his unreadable expression; his jaw is clenched as if he’s trying to hold something back.

Once the two of you make it back to the table, Frank reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. He thumbs through the notes before tossing a few bills onto the table. He reaches into the booth seat for his jacket and shakes it out before draping it over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you mumble in a quiet voice.

“Don’t gotta thank me for that, sweetheart,” he shakes his head, insisting that your gratitude isn’t needed. He begins to walk towards the door with his hand in its designated spot at your lower back to help guide you once again. The chill of the night air hits you the second you step out of the building and you find yourself curling his jacket snugger around your body. His scent is stuck to the collar and it helps lessen your shivering from the cold breeze.

He walks you to your side of the van and opens the door for you to climb in. Even after he gets in and begins driving down the same winding roads, there’s not much conversation between the two of you. The tension in the car is thick and incredibly palpable. You’re indecisive about whether to break the silence or leave it untouched so as to not make it worse.

Eventually Frank pulls into his parking spot that faces the front door of his apartment. After putting the van in park and walking around to open your door once more, you take his hand and carefully step down. He unlocks the door and gets you inside quickly, trying to shield you from the chilly air. Once he flicks the lights on, you’re greeted by the familiar sight of his living room and feel that desire to touch him creep back in. Your name falls from his lips and you turn your head at the sound.

“I’m sorry if I went too far back there. I shouldn’t have—,” he begins to apologize, but you’re quick to interrupt by pressing your lips to his. A surprised grunt comes from him and you smirk into the kiss, pleased to have caught him off guard. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around you and begins leading you towards the couch. When you feel the back of your knees hit the curve of the cushion, you angle yourself in front of Frank and push him into the sofa below.

He looks up at you with his lips parted and his chest is noticeably bringing in deeper breaths each time he inhales. His usually soft, brown eyes have a darkened glint to them and you’re certain you’ve never seen this emotion on him before. Your pulse is racing through your own body and you swiftly straddle him with your knees on either side of his hips.

His impatient fingers grab hold of you in a way no one ever has before. The action causes a surprised gasp to fall past your lips, but it’s swallowed down by Frank who can’t seem to keep his mouth off of yours. The light stubble decorating his jaw scratches at your skin and the rough feeling does nothing but spur you on further. You begin to roll your hips into his as you fall into a familiar pattern and he uses his hold to help guide you into moving faster.

His movements are rushed and needy and it makes you feel reassured that he wants this—he wants you. That little boost to your ego has your hands tracing down his body, your palms rubbing down his strong chest, before finally reaching his belt. Your fingers search blindly for the leather and the sound of the buckle clinking sounds out in between the wet noises of your kisses.

“Woah, easy,” Frank breaks the kiss the second the sound reaches his ears. “Let’s just, uh…” he trails off and you feel his fingers gently prying yours away. “Let’s take it slow, alright?” His tone is so soft and the concern is written clearly across his features.

“Frank, please,” you try to reason with him. “I didn’t even drink tonight! And I just… last time I was all worked up and I really want to do this.” You finish with a pout as you glance up at him with pleading eyes. He swallows hard as he stares at you for a moment, probably battling something internally.

“What do you wanna do?” he asks slowly, trying to make his words clear. The question is so simple but admitting it to him makes you feel small again.

“I… I want to touch you,” you mumble, silently hoping he doesn’t ask you to be more explicit than that.

“You sure you want this?” His eyes never leave yours as he confirms your consent.

“I really do,” you reply, bringing your hand up and cupping his cheek. You brush your thumb over his skin and watch as he begins to shut his eyes and breathe deeply. “Please?”

You’re not sure if it’s the quiet plea, his own craving that’s swaying his decision, or some combination of the two, but he slowly uncurls his fingers from your wrist. You beam brightly at him and whisper a thanks as you peck him on the cheek.

“You’re still gonna have to walk me through it, Frank,” you say through a small chuckle.

He nods with an equally quiet, “I know.”

From there, he doesn’t try to deter your movements any longer. He lets you continue as you slide his belt past the metal buckle. You look up at him for reassurance and he nods his head with a smile. He takes your hand in his and pulls it to his bulge, letting you feel it properly for the first time. Excitement races through you and settles in your lower stomach as you watch your hand touch him over the denim.

“Can I take your jeans off?” Your question is met with another nod as he lets go of you. Slipping the button past the slit, you then lower the zipper past the teeth and the sound feels so loud in the otherwise silent room. You move to sit beside him and Frank helps you tug his pants down, raising his hips to lower them some more until they fall past his knees. He’s wearing a pair of dark grey boxer briefs and your eyes linger far too long on how they hug his thighs.

The thick outline stretching the fabric is enough to recenter your attention though. You start to feel the nerves coming back once you register just how big he is as he lies against his hip. You always had a feeling, given the sheer size of the man, but seeing it is a whole other experience. Thankfully, Frank doesn’t rush you as he lets you take this all in. You hesitantly move your hand over the length of him, brushing your fingers over the defined line underneath the head of his cock.

The next thing you reach for is the waistband of his boxers. You curl your fingers over the edge and tug them down, watching as more and more of his happy trail becomes exposed. He once again helps you pull them past his legs and now that he’s bare in front of you, you can’t help your eyes from widening. You had thought the bulge was big, but it was misleading; Frank is actually much larger than you had anticipated.

“What? You’ve never seen—?” He starts but you’re quick to cut him off.

“I have. I’ve seen, like, porn before but…” you find your voice leaving you as you stare between his legs. “It’s just bigger in person.” His chuckle sounds out and you raise your head to the noise only to be met by an amused smirk at your confession.

“S’not just cause it’s in person, kid,” he laughs through his words and you roll your eyes at his cockiness. You like that you can still crack jokes during a time like this and you find yourself thankful that you get to have Frank as your first introduction to sex. Feeling more relaxed, you reach forward and gently curl your fingers around his thick base.

“You can hold it tighter than that,” he speaks up after a second.

“I know,” you respond, tightening your hold on him a little more. He snorts lightly at the, apparently, subtle increase in pressure and you feel his larger hand curling around your own. His long fingers squeeze over yours, adjusting your grip on his length as he begins to move your hand up and down. He’s warm and heavy in your hand, two things you hadn’t given much thought of before now. Frank lifts your hand once more and a satisfied sigh leaves him.

The sound stirs something in your stomach and you try to swallow down your own growing arousal at the noise he’s making. He loosens his hold on you and you watch as his hands find the hem of his shirt before bunching it up and exposing the lower half of his stomach. There’s so much to look at and it’s pulling your attention in too many ways. You try to focus on him in your hand though and begin speeding up your movements.

“You can spit on it,” he speaks up after a few seconds. You turn to face him and feel your eyebrows pull together at his words.

“Like just… spit on it?” The confusion is more than likely obvious in your tone but you want to ensure that you don’t embarrass yourself with him. Not now when you’ve made it this far.

“Yeah, go for it,” he encourages gently. With one last glance at him, you lean forward and lower your head over his length. You purse your lips and part them as you let the split slowly drip until it’s sliding over his head. You watch as it runs down past the tip and Frank clears his throat.

“Shit, yeah that…” he trails off as he raises his hips slightly. “That works too.” You smile at his words and wonder if his movement was an instinctual reaction to the warmth running along the smooth skin of his cock.

With the help of the extra slick added to his length, you begin to work your hand faster on him. You know from what you’ve heard that the tip is more sensitive, so you raise your hand right underneath his head and tighten your grip. A grunt immediately falls from him and you impulsively let go of him. You face him with a worried expression and watch as he brings in a deep breath before swallowing thickly.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just felt real damn good.” The praise in his words immediately rushes to your heart and you feel yourself swell with pride. You can’t believe you made him feel that good, but now you’re determined to see what other sounds you can pull from his pretty lips. As you focus your attention back to his cock, you see a few beads of precum beginning to bubble up at his swollen tip. You rub your thumb in circles over the slit, spreading around the proof of his pleasure, and you feel him twitch in your hold.

“Shiiiiiit,” the drawn out curse sounds raspy and you don’t stop your movements as you check once again to see his reaction. Frank’s head is tilted back slightly against the couch cushion, his mouth is parted, and his eyes are scrunched up slightly. You try your hardest to memorize this version of him. You wish you could ingrain this memory so you’ll never forget how good he looks when he’s succumbing to his pleasure.

Twisting your hand as you move it over his length, you notice the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows down presumably another groan. You can’t resist the urge to feel even more of him, and press your lips against his neck. Lazy kisses are littered across his skin while you work your hand faster, intermittently tightening your hold on his thickness. His throat tightens as he feels the wet marks of your affection, and the next thing you feel is his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulls gently as he tugs your head up to his and he kisses down your surprised gasp, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

You’re having trouble keeping up with his movements and you realize this must be what it’s like to be kissed breathlessly. Any moment you get, you’re greedily gulping down air before he continues his ravenous attack on your lips. You never slow the speed of your hand and press yourself against his side, trying to feel more of him to satiate your need. Frank tries to break the kiss but you push against him harder, not wanting to let go for a second. But he tries again, grabbing your wrist gently and you immediately pull away with a frown.

“What did I do?” you ask in a worried tone. He’s quick to lock his eyes with yours and speaks clearly.

“You’re okay. You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he starts, and then nods down towards his lap. “I’m almost there, kid. Just wanted to warn you before it happens.” And just like that, a wide grin splits across your face. I’m making him feel that good?!

“I really wanna make you come, Frank,” you tell him honestly and you notice his cock twitch slightly as he registers your words.

“You keep talking like that and you will,” he grumbles in a low voice. His tone almost seems as if it was meant as a warning, but all it does is add to the fire in the pit of your stomach. You’re quick to reach for him again and fall back into the rhythm you established just seconds ago. With each pass of your hand you feel the veins protruding slightly through his skin and make sure to add slightly more pressure to the ring underneath his tip—he seemed to like that in particular.

“Just like that—fuck, attagirl,” he breathes through gritted teeth while he stares down at your smaller fingers wrapped snugly around him. The praise courses through you and you hide your face in his neck. You place sloppy kisses under his jaw and listen as more grunts start to fall from his parted lips. They slowly twist into a new sound and it takes you a second to realize it’s your name that’s coming out in a twisted groan. You glance down and watch as he raises his hips for a moment to chase after the feeling of you, his orgasm following soon after.

One long moan falls from him as warmth spills over your hands. You make sure not to miss a single second and don’t dare slow down or pull away. You want Frank to feel as good as possible and so you’ll drag this out for as long as you can. White begins to coat his head and the rest of his length as you continue moving over him. It isn’t until he reaches for your wrist that you take notice of the way his thigh is tense and you let go to give him some relief.

“T…That’s enough,” he pants as he speaks through uneven breathing. You mumble an apology as you snuggle into his side again, leaving the remainder of your kisses on his collarbone. His hand rubs at your back while he regains his breath and you feel him press his lips to your forehead. 

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you follow his gaze to the mess in his lap. His cock lies on his hip, all spent and giving a weak twitch once or twice. You don’t even try to hide the smile that grows on your face at the sight.

“Oh, you proud of yourself, huh?” he asks through a fit of chuckles. “You should be,” he holds you to his side again. “Did so fuckin’ good.” You feel another long kiss to the side of your head. Pride isn’t even a strong enough word to describe how you feel at this moment.

“Thank you, Frank,” you smile up at him.

“Thank me? Nah, you did all that,” he brushes it off just like last time. “Thank you for making me feel good, kid. You were absolutely perfect.” The warmth spreading to your cheeks makes you hide your face in his chest again. You weren’t really sure how a scene like this was supposed to normally end, but Frank doesn’t say anything more. He keeps you close in his arms and you can still hear his pulse attempting to slow in his chest. For now, you don’t want to question what comes next; for once, you’re comfortable exactly where you are.

Taglist: @chellestrash @avengerstower-houseplant @musicals-and-mermaids @castle-of-ruin @justalittlepickle @boo8008 @doublevirgogirl @xxdrixx @yaminax @nabiiturner @imwaytoolazyforthis @vechkinfan @himesuedi @0-goblin-0 @soleilcastle @innebulae @punishersmainchick @eddiemunsonsbelover @tea-drinking-nerd

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave you (Pt. 74)

(Sneak Peek) (Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: A planned vacation with Namjoon might not offer the respite you hope it will; Something is wrong with Jin and he just wont say what.

Tags: Hurt/comfort, Harmless Sickfic, So much fluff, Light angst, Brief smut, brief mentions of intercrural sex, slick, implied d/s, Mommy kink, mommy tae, Brief daddy kink too 🥺, clothing control, implied omegaspace

W/c: 20.0k

A/n: Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out <3 the last couple of weeks have been...not great! Here it is! I will repay you guys with my hiatus by giving you possibly the longest bily chapter ever! The heat arc will take two more chapters! No idea how long those will be but i greatly enjoyed making this chapter the fluffiest little bundle of scenes I could. i did not hold back- i think we've all needed a bit of softness.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

You excuse yourself to change. But you find yourself pacing back and forth in front of the mirror for a moment. Struggling with your fancy dress that’s for tomorrow night’s dinner, hanging it up with a huff. Unsure why you’re so stressed, why you’re so anxious. An animal in your chest that just won’t stop clawing at your breath.

You knew what you were agreeing to going on this vacation with Namjoon. A solo vacation just for the two of you sends a very very pointed message. This is a sexy vacation- a private suite and a private onsen only means one thing and now at the precipice of it you feel- you feel-

Namjoon knocks, but you tell him you need a minute trying not to sound scared. You don’t even know why you feel scared; you’ve had sex with Namjoon before, and taking him is no longer quite as daunting of a task as it once was. But you feel unsettled and out of your depth here. Intimacy and romance are so much harder without your pack around you to reassure you to egg you on.

You need to call Tae.

She picks up on the second ring, “Pup!” she sounds happy and bubbly even through the phone. You even hear a bit of relief in her voice. “I’m doing my nails upstairs because Jin and Jungkook are being loud; did you get to the hotel yet? How are the flowers?”

“Tae” you hiss, keeping your voice down. “Did you think I’d spend the whole weekend lounging in lingerie!? You didn’t even pack me a bathing suit!” You whine. Still pacing.

“Well, I was actually hoping you’d spend the whole weekend getting your lingerie torn off of you by Namjoon but-”

“Mommy” you whine, and she quiets.

“It’s at the bottom, the dark red one with the flowers.” You find it, if only because it’s a bright oxblood in the mess of pastels. It’s dotted with pale yellow flowers and crossing straps that are supposed to tie around the slimmest part of your waist several times. It’s very Tae. Strappy and sexy and so tiny. The triangles are so small, it might as well be lingerie too.

“Tae- this isn’t going to fit me.”

“Yes, it does” she quips. “I measured.” You flush. You’re sure she did actually measure, probably during one of your morning preening and grooming sessions that you have a habit of spending mostly in omegaspace, an eager puppet to her hands. The idea that you’d been so far down, so trusting that you didn’t even notice warms your cheeks.

But Tae chose this for you, your alpha chose this for you and your other alpha. Tae does often know best. She knows what Namjoon likes.

Your heart rate slows a little.

“Tae- this is just a mess of strings,” she giggles, and you know just from the sound of it that she did this on purpose.

“Come on, live a little.”

“I know but- but-” you sit on the toilet, and she hums.

You wait, sensing that she’s yet to speak. You can hear Namjoon in the other room, starting to pace. You swear you hear him talking too. The hushed grumble as he talks to someone over the phone to someone.

“I’m sorry, I should have packed you something more modest. I just thought you’d want to- I don’t know, tell me off if I'm wrong but- Don't you want to explore a little? You don’t always have to know what you want, You don’t always have to want it- you can have both. Being wanted and being treated delicately- it's not one or the other.”

Your breath hitches, and you wonder how she managed to hit it right on the head. You do feel delicate- you've felt delicate the whole day.

“You can wear skimpy clothes and Namjoon will just be happy he gets to look at you. He still won’t do anything unless you say you want him to. He’s well-behaved like that.”

“Mommy-”

“You love feeling cute, you love feeling wanted. Let him want you pup, it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“You’re just saying that because you like to give Namjoon a hard time.”

“It’s a love language” that does get a giggle out of you. She sounds satisfied, her voice a purr, but she still apologizes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“You didn’t, I just panicked in the moment.” You pause, and Tae doesn’t fill the space with chatter. “I feel so innocent around him, so- not like this. Not that it’s dirty to dress this way, just…” You trail off.

"The pack alpha loves you, he’s gonna think you’re stunning no matter what. You could walk out in nothing and he’d still probably ask before he looked at you.”

“I kinda want him to look at me,” You admit, confess. “I kinda like making him have to restrain himself.” You have no reason to be nervous.

Tae’s voice is a purr, “There’s my girl. What do you say?”

“Thank you mommy.”

“Are you gonna be a good girl for the pack alpha?” Her voice is a dark pur.

“No mommy.”

"Perfect."

Coming Saturday Aug 31 at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

[yanderecrazysie]

So, um- I may or may not have an idea, hear me out

Idol! Oikawa who everyone in the world know him except for darling, so when she was dragged by her friends to see one of his concert- at first darling was kind of impressed and enjoyed his concert (she's not the type of y/n who reads book at a concert) so when the concert ends her friends, again— dragged her to the vip section to meet him directly. The first glimpse of darling had already made butterflies flying in Oikawa's tummy. He wants to have her, he needs her. After that, he demands his assistants to stalk on darling's life and eventually captured her. Darling was shocked at first and resistant but Oikawa comfort her that there's no one else could treat her better than him

the end-

(also could you make an nsfw part? gonna make it bit spicy🔥)

-🐇anon

My precious bunny anon, I had too much fun writing this! No one judge me on the nsfw part, I'm still not great at writing it. But damn this is SPICY.

Title: Idol

Pairings: Oikawa Tooru x Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes, NSFW, NON-CON, swearing, implied drugging

Summary: You can see the appeal in the pop sensation Oikawa, but you aren’t aware that he sees even more appeal in you.

idol

/noun/

a person or thing that is greatly admired, loved, or revered:

“Okay, okay, the concert was pretty good,” you admitted, “He’s not just a pretty boy- he can actually sing really well.”

Oikawa smiled as your friend hugged you and squealed, staying just out of sight around the corner with a hat and sunglasses shielding his face from potential fans. 

He had been waiting there for an hour.

For you.

Did you believe in love at first sight? Oikawa didn’t. Not until now at least.

He let out a weary sigh as your friend dragged you out of earshot. She was a noisy, annoying creature- not Oikawa’s type at all. But she had brought you to his concert, and that redeemed her in his eyes.

He could see you from the stage as he sang, and you dazzled him far more than any of the spotlights. Everyone’s attention was on him, but his attention rested solely on you. If only you had been seated close enough for him to whisk you up onto the stage!

Now, you were leaving him behind. Ending the concert without another thought. Maybe you would go out for ice cream to complete the night? No. Probably not. It was very late after all.

Maybe you would go home and touch yourself under your sheets to the thought of the handsome idol on stage.

“Hey, Shittykawa,” he heard the voice of his friend and manager Iwaizumi calling to him, “Backstage passes still exist.”

He followed Iwaizumi through the backstage area, hope blossoming in his chest as he began to pray that he would see you in line to meet him, a backstage pass clutched in your pretty little fingers. As soon as the line of girls was in his sights, he zeroed in on the person he wished to see. 

Ah. There you are.

You didn’t look particularly excited to be meeting him face-to-face, but that was okay. 

Oikawa’s heart was pounding in his chest as he watched from behind the curtain. You looked so out of place among the extremely excited fans, with your bored expression and hands stuffed in your pockets. Every single one of the other girls had his face on their shirts while you wore just a plain red hoodie. Your gaze was calm but curious, while the other girls’ eyes shone with excitement. 

But to him, you were the only one that mattered.

He took a deep breath, straightened his spine, and put on his most charming smile, then stepped out from behind the curtain to meet his fans. Cheers erupted from the line and girls began squealing to each other, but his gaze never wandered from an unimpressed you.

One by one, the girls came up to him, getting autographs, selfies, and some brief exchanges, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. How could he make a lasting impression on you? How could he turn you into the lovestruck fan he wished you were?

You were next.

You walked up to him calmly, but you lacked confidence in each step, as if you were uncertain about approaching such a celebrity. Your friend gave you two thumbs up and you laughed softly- music to Oikawa’s ears.

You smiled up at him in a polite sort of way, not a hint of eagerness. “Hey,” is all you said as you handed over the backstage pass for him to sign. He took it from you, making sure that his fingers brushed against your own. 

“Did you enjoy the concert?” he asked, voice sweet as sugar.

“Yeah,” you said, “You’re pretty talented.”

That’s all? Oikawa winced for a moment before covering up with a winning grin, “I’m so glad you think so, thank you~”

There was an awkward pause where only the sound of his pen scrawling against the backstage pass could be heard. Oikawa finally spoke up, “What’s your name?”

You gave your name, shrinking a little under his intense gaze.

“(Y/n)...” he repeated dreamily, as if savoring the sound of your name on his tongue, “You have no idea how happy I am that you enjoyed my show.”

You nodded awkwardly, not sure what to say back. The way Oikawa looked at you, as though you were the only girl in the world, made you feel both flattered and frightened.

“Let’s take a picture together,” he suggested. You began to pull your phone out of your pocket, but he was quicker, his light blue cell phone in your face before you could blink. “Say cheese!” Weirded out, you gave the camera a forced smile, shuddering as his arm wrapped around your waist, fingers sinking into your hip.

Oikawa watched as you slipped out of his hold and hurried to the exit, waiting at the door for your friend to have her turn with the idol. He forced a charming smile back to his lips and signed a picture of himself and took a picture with your friend. He was every bit the gentleman to your bestie, while his eyes remained glued on you.

As soon as your friend had finished with the idol, you dragged her through the door, ignoring the way she looked back over her shoulder in awe at the singer. Oikawa let out a little chuckle. It seemed he had creeped you out. How unfortunate.

As soon as the last girl exited the concert building, the charming smile slipped from his face. Coldly, Oikawa turned to his staff and held up his cell phone, where a picture of you and him was still displayed.

“Find her,” he said sharply, “I want information. Anything you can find on my future wife.”

—-----------------------------------------------------

You woke up slowly, your head pounding and your vision blurry. It took a few minutes for the room to come into focus. Instantly, your heart kicked into overdrive and you began to panic. You had no idea where you were or whose bed you were on. 

Candid pictures of you, often taken from behind or during intimate moments, are plastered on the wall like posters. Your heart stutters in your chest when you see the blown-up photos of you undressing and getting out of the shower. 

You tried to sit up, only to realize your wrists are chained to the bed posts.

Sick. This is sick. Where the fuck am I?

As if to answer your question, the door to the bedroom opened and the pop sensation, Oikawa Tooru, walked in. You turned away, cheeks hot, the moment you realized he was naked. Then, the truth dawned on you.

You’re naked too.

“What’s going on?” you tried to sound confident and angry, but your voice came out as a pitiful squeak.

It had been months since you’d last seen him and you can’t tell if it’s a lack of makeup or sleep that has bags under his eyes. He looked exhausted until his gaze fell on you. Then, his countenance lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Iwa-chan told me I had a surprise in my room, but I didn’t imagine…” he trailed off. The grin he gave you was not charming, but terrifying, almost as though he was baring his teeth at you. 

You began to tremble with fear, the realization of your situation sinking in. Oikawa walked slowly towards the bed, hand outstretched. You closed your eyes and shuddered when his hand brushed against your cheek and made its way lower, trailing against your chin, down your neck, and across your collarbone.

Finally, his hand ghosted the beginning of your breast and a sinister chuckle echoed across the room, “I have you… after months of watching… I finally have you.” His fingers pinched your nipple suddenly and you shrieked in surprise and slight pain, “You’re all mine.”

“I don’t understand,” you sobbed, “You’re a famous idol- what the fuck are you doing kidnapping some stranger?”

“Stranger?” Oikawa tilted his head like a confused puppy, “You’re no stranger. I’ve been in love with you from the moment we met.”

“I wish I never got dragged along to your stupid concert,” you spat.

Oikawa just chuckled again, his voice growing husky, “Too bad, it’s too late now anyways. I’ve got you now and I’m never letting you go.”

His hands began to fondle your breasts lightly, fingers tweaking at your nipples. You wished you could swat his hands away, but your wrists merely ache against their cold metal binds.

Oikawa crawled onto the bed, straddling you while stroking the achingly hard member between his legs. The red tip glistened and a bead of precum was squeezed through the slit as he let out a throaty groan. His hands left your breasts and moved to grasp your legs, which were stubbornly clamped tightly together.

He wrenched your legs apart with little effort and you lost it. You began trying to kick him and began to scream at the top of your lungs. Anything to get him away from you. Anything to protect yourself from what he would inevitably do to you.

Your voice grew hoarse and died on your lips as the madman began to laugh. He laughed like you had just told him a hilarious joke and, when his laughter faded, a steely look of determination replaced the mirth in his eyes. His lip curled a little into a sneer as he forced your legs straight, apart, and into the mattress.

“It doesn’t matter how much you kick and scream,” he growled, taking hold of his leaking cock and lining it up with your clenching entrance, “I’m going to make you mine.” And with that, he slammed forward, causing a choked scream to escape your sore throat.

Oikawa groaned loudly, tilting his head back and letting his eyes roll back into his skull, “Fuck, that feels so good. I knew you’d be perfect…”

Tears rolled down your cheeks as he leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of your head and caging you in. Your cunt ached like it was being torn in two, and it probably was.

“I wonder what the articles will say if I show up one day with a kid,” he snickers between heavy breaths, “Or an obedient little pregnant wife. Won’t the fans be so jealous of you?”

You let out a sob as he drew back his hips and slammed home again, deeper than the first thrust already. You looked between your legs and gulped- you’d barely taken 2/3rds of his throbbing length already.

He brought his face closer to yours and, after a moment, he swallowed your lips up into a hungry kiss. You didn’t kiss back, but he forced his tongue into your mouth anyways. He dominates your tongue easily and moans into the kiss as he begins to grind his cock into you, forcing himself even deeper.

To your horror, you could feel your passage becoming wetter, making it easier for him to slide in and out. The slick sounds of him pumping into you and the slaps of skin-on-skin filled the room and you desperately wished you could cover your ears.

You tried staring at the ceiling, but Oikawa’s face eclipsed your vision, grinning down at you as he panted and let out deep moans. The sounds and sights were too much for you and you closed your eyes tight. But still, you cannot block out the sounds.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, ignoring the buildup of pleasure beginning in your gut. Oikawa’s groans became more frequent, and you can tell he’s worked himself up too much- he’s getting closer to his end.

His lips moved to your throat, where he began to suck a hickey into your skin. Sobs bubbled up through your lips and tears continued to escape under closed lids. 

You laid there and took it as his thrusts grew rougher, hips slamming into yours hard enough to leave bruises. Your orgasm hit you out of nowhere and you squirmed against your binds as little moans escaped you and white filled your vision. 

You come down just in time to hear Oikawa let out a loud, choked groan and a soft “Fucking take it!” and his slips slam against yours one last time. Heat blossomed inside you as his cock throbbed and released its load deep inside you.

He collapsed on top of you, panting heavily. His weight felt like it was crushing you and you struggled to breathe.

“Don’t worry…” Oikawa said with a breathy chuckle, “There’s no better boyfriend on this planet than me. I’ll take such good care of you.”

[mins-fins]

orbit of yours !

"power couple, really?" "you have to listen to me!"

synopsis: park jisung has always admired you. hardworking, effortlessly beautiful, talented, humble— you're pretty much the personification of the word 'perfect' (you would disagree though), but your relationship has never gotten past "admirers that occasionally exchange words", so jisung has vanquished the idea of possibly being in love with you because of your lack of interactions, he's just an avid admirer of yours! so when a few accidents and mishaps force (more like drive) the two of you to be in the same room more than you ever had in the past, the idea doesn't just remain a random fantasy crafted by jisung's mind, it becomes reality.

pairing: park jisung x male!reader

genre: high school au, acquaintances to friends to lovers, photographer!reader x soccer player!jisung, fluff, kinda comedy (im not funny), mutual pining, literally no angst, fast burn lowkey, sungchan helps reader realize his feelings and it's hilarious

warnings: swearing, mentions of burnout, oblivious bitches deny their feelings for a good 10k words, this is fucking cheesy, the nightmare which is senior year

word count: 12.2k

notes: GOOD LORD IT IS FINALLY DONE! i don't wanna be overdramatic or anything but this is genuinely one of my most favorite works ever, if you couldn't tell i am VERY jisung biased and im so happy to finally be done with this because it's honestly been so fun to write 🙁 i didn't beat the xiaojun fic in terms of words but this the second longest fic i have ever written and for my jisung debut its impressive that there is absolutely NO ANGST here, i'm just very proud of myself for this and i hope people like reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it.. this is for all the park jisung lovers 👍

"WHEN WILL YOU ACTUALLY GET A PARTNER?" chenle asks the question so many times that jisung assumes the sentence has been programmed into his brain. what is it— like the 3rd time this week? he thinks chenle might be more obsessed with his love life than he is with actual important things, like college, graduation preparations, his role as a member of the student council, anything but jisung's uneventful love life, because that was probably the least interesting thing going on in his own life at the moment. "come on jisungie! i heard aejung has a crush on you!" he lets out a familiar groan, giving his friends a 'cut it out' look. "i don't really care about that kind of stuff.."

he hears all the frustrated sighs from his friends, and jisung just chuckles. he knows about the many surprisingly many— people who find themselves attracted to him. he acknowledges the fact that he has a lot of admirers, that a lot of people would perceive themselves as lucky to be in a relationship with him, he isn't new to the idea at all, he doesn't really get what makes him so attractive, such an eyeopener to his fellow students, but he mostly accepts the gifts given to him by his so called "admirers" nonetheless, not wanting to make them disappointed.

now, he says mostly because there are just times where he has no choice but to turn them down. some people get into their own heads too much, and he doesn't want to give some of them false hopes by accepting their gifts. that happened once, where a girl thought the two of them were dating because he decided to accept her gift as a sign of appreciation, that's when jisung learned that he couldn't just accept any and all gifts given to him by admirers who so greatly wanted a chance with him. jisung isn't so concerned about gifts, he wants a person who will be psychically and emotionally present for him, not someone who'll just buy him random things.

"it's gotten a little annoying.. all the confessions" jisung mutters, closing the textbook he had been jotting in. "they're nice yeah but some people just take it too far" he finally finishes, earning some confused looks from his friends. he just shrugs, shoving the textbook he had previously been jotting in into his backpack.

"but you're just so boring!" chenle whines, pressing his cheek against jisung's shoulder. jisung doesn't even try shaking him off, knowing that any of his attempts will be useless. "come on! all these people who would love to be with you and your still a lonely little loser!"

"loser? oh come on!"

"you know i'm right!"

jisung scoffs, lightly shoving chenle. while yeah, it's nice to have a lot of people admire him, everyone expects him to do this and that and act a certain way. it's like they enjoy perpetuating a false image onto him rather than actually admiring him for who he really is, and jisung doesn't think he should give people like that the time of day, they piss him off more than anything.

he's a little lost in his thought when a familiar voice sounds in his ears, a couple of giggles following the sound. "you're too funny y/n!" one of them shouted, poking a familiar figure in the shoulder, and jisung's eyes fall on you immediately, as if on instinct. you were looking as you always did, a familiar dslr camera hanging from your neck, that polite smile on your face as your friend continues poking your shoulder.

lately, you'd been quite the topic of interest among your fellow schoolmates. now that's not abnormal at all, you somehow always manage to be the talk of the town in school, you could do the smallest thing and somehow people could still make huge talk about it.

jisung would never say it, not out loud or even in mutters to himself, but he's always held a unique admiration for you, one he doesn't think he could actually put into words. there's something about you that pulls jisung in, like your a magnet and he's an oblivious piece of metal, slowly getting closer and closer to you without being able to do anything about it.

everything about you is beautiful. your eyes are a beautiful brown color, your smile is a beautiful stretch that shows off your perfect white teeth, your hair is a beautiful mix of raven and brunette. oh, and your voice is so beautiful too, it's so soft, gentle, but also deep.

you're like an angel.

at least to jisung you are.

it's pretty funny, actually, your so wrapped up in your own things that you barely notice the sheer amount of people who want to date you. you don't acknowledge romantic advances a lot, and even when you do, it always ends in rejection. you talk a lot, and your words are always pure and witty, your laughter is natural, your smile is contagious.

but.. jisung doesn't like you. he only likes you in the friend kinda way, he just wants to be friends with you. you look nice! smell nice, dress nice, speak nice..

jisung knows a lot more about you than his friends do. despite the fact that the two of you have never officially deemed yourselves "friends", he's always known little facts about you, as you him. the two of you have been going to school together for seven years, so the idea of not knowing anything about each other seems ridiculous.

you're a photographer, your favorite color is blue, specifically lighter shades, your favorite subject is history, your lucky number is 2 because of your birthdate being 02/02/02, your favorite flowers are daisies, you don't really enjoy sports, but if you were to choose one to play, it'd be baseball, and you want to go to college for journalism.

but jisung can't say that he likes you, because even if you two know all these things about each other, you've never considered yourselves "friends", all you do is admire from afar—

and when you do interact, it's just short and sweet sentences exchanged between you two, mostly because the both of you are so busy, that you can't afford to just stop and talk. sometimes, jisung wishes his life was just a little less hectic and he could stop and talk to you, because that's what he wants to do.

"what's with you?" jisung immediately yelps as chenle flicks his forehead, and he resists the urge to punch the older in the face. "gawking at y/n? really?"

"i'm not—" jisung hates that he feels his face burn. "i'm not gawking, i'm just.. i was just looking at him".

"looking at him with hearts in your eyes".

jisung scoffs at chenle's audacity, as if he wasn't doing exactly that a good few minutes ago. he would never admit it out loud before, so why should he admit it now? he'd never live it down if anybody ever found out..

"you know.." chenle begins, tapping his finger onto the desk in front of him. "you two would be a great couple" and the words are enough to make jisung roll his eyes once again. "a power couple!"

"power couple, really?" jisung raises an eyebrow, chenle never fails to say something that confuses him. he finds the words to be ridiculous, but his reaction just seems to make chenle even more giddy, because he continues;

"you have to listen to me!" chenle persists, and jisung is about to check out of the conversation completely.

"y/n is a photographer for sports journalism, you play soccer, you've known each for what.. ever? he's pretty, you clearly have the hots for him—"

"i do not!" jisung immediately yells in rebuttal, much louder than he wanted to. "yeah he's.. cute but anyone with eyes can see that, i'm not in love with him or anything".

chenle raises an eyebrow, suspicious, but jisung remains stubborn, crossing his arms as he averts his gaze from his best friend.

yes, you are cute, anybody with two functioning eyes can see that.

"i think park jisung might have a crush on you".

at the words, you look up from your camera, meeting eyes with your close friend, sungchan. you blink, as if dumbfounded, then snicker. "park jisung? are you trying to boost my ego or something?"

you know park jisung, you know about how probably half the students in this room dream of having a chance with him. so many people like park jisung, so many people want park jisung.

and if you think about it, you can't exactly blame them for that..

"don't laugh! i'm serious! he looked like he was about to devour you, did you see his eyes!?"

the words just get another laugh out of you, the words seem ridiculous in your eyes, because why would park jisung, beautiful, talented, striking park jisung have a crush on you? in your eyes, your pretty much nothing to him.

"okay.. why would park jisung ever be interested in me?" you ask, rearranging your camera as you raise an eyebrow at sungchan, who simply deadpans at you, that familiar 'are you serious?' look in his eyes.

"okay let me see, your smart, pretty, everyone likes you at this point, also— the two of you are pretty much perfect for each other! you'd be a power couple!"

you furrow your eyebrows, a power couple? you'd never heard that phrase used to talk about somebody your friends had been "shipping" you with, your not even sure if you can even consider yourself friends with jisung, because the two of you can never actually talk to each other without someone coming up and interrupting the interaction.

you'd love to just be able to talk to park jisung, just the two of you, one on one.

"power couple? that's funny.."

"you think everything is funny" ironically, you laugh at your friends words. "this could be like— your only chance at having an actual romantic connection with someone".

"i don't care that much about romance, chan" you muse, humming as you turn off your camera. your eyes wander over to jisung, who is very much distracted by something stupid chenle is saying, he's laughing about something, laughing hard too.

there is no reason for him to look so pretty as he laughs like a maniac..

he's cute, you say in your mind, he is absolutely adorable.

"WHAT DID YOU GUYS GET ON THAT STATISTICS TEST FOR SONG?" a boy from the same year and member of the soccer team along with jisung inquired. they sat on the bleachers in front of field, watching as the baton club practices. they have to practice this week, unfortunately, so jisung's schedule had become tight and packed, he barely had any free time these days, it was all exams, college tours, last minute extracurriculars, and practice, practice, practice. "i got a b plus" one of his classmates responds, the other responded; "i got a b on mine". jisung was very far removed from the current conversation, his eyes on a familiar trio of sports journalists on the other side of the field, a trio which included you, mesmerizing you. he sees you often these days, with that same dslr camera around your neck, a pretty smile stuck on your face.

"you, jisung! what score did you get?" one of his classmates asks, but jisung was occupied, so he didn't answer. a tap on his shoulder makes jisung snap out of his staring fit, and he blinks a few times, assessing where he is. "what?"

"we were asking about the marks on the recent statistics test!"

"ah" jisung presses his lips together. "i got an a plus" he says the words casually, but it causes for a cheer to be sounded by his fellow classmates, who shook him and slapped his back supportively.

"you're so smart jisungie!"

the praise from his classmates get a smile out of jisung, but he isn't focusing on that, his attention is on you. even with how your across the field, he can clearly see all of your features, the sun shining on your face makes you look majestic, like an actual angel, jisung isn't sure why he's even focusing so much on your face, but he can't focus on anything else, because his eyes just naturally always wander over to you.

"will this ever finish?" you inquire, pertaining to the baton club, who were still on the field even after they were supposed to get off. "i'm supposed to take photos of the soccer players for my editorials.." you mutter, it'd be horrible if you couldn't even deliver on the promise you made to your superiors.

"they're probably going to split the field" your fellow sports journalist, taehyun says. a small groan escapes your lips, you're annoyed, you hope this doesn't interfere with the photos you have to take, it'd be horrible if you just ended up doing the same thing all over again. "see? baton club is taking one side and the soccer team takes the main area because they need to start practicing now".

"they look so cute! i've always wanted to be apart of the soccer team!" lee sohee exclaims, and you turn towards him, a look of interest on your face. he attentively watches the boys, humming to the song that's playing. "why didn't you join them then?" you inquire, interest peaked.

sohee smiles at you, readjusting his camera and fixing his posture. "i enjoyed writing the editorial articles more" he shrugs. "wanted to try out but i missed the tryouts because eunseok hyung would have killed me if i missed anton's recital" at the words, you laugh, used to the behavior from the older boy.

"maybe next year".

"you'd fit in perfectly!" taehyun muses, and sohee brightens up, seemingly loving the words.

"really!? that's what seunghan tells me too!" he cheers at the words, looking proud of himself. "i'd look cute in that uniform though.."

you chuckle at sohee's word, finding him to be absolutely adorable. "yeah, you definitely would" you ruffle his hair, smiling at the giggle which sounds from the boy.

"i'm gonna go get a closer look at them" you say, motioning towards the soccer team. taehyun nods and watches as you get closer to the field, not super close, but close enough that your camera can capture a good view of the soccer team. you narrow your eyes, pointing your camera at the busy boys who are doing their usual routine, the viewfinder shows jisung in all his glory.

you take pictures, zooming in and out. you don't mean to put all the focus on jisung, he's just too alluring to not be the center of attention. he's such a natural, he's just so amazing, you can't not focus on him.

[click.]

and another shot, another one as jisung scores the goal. jisung's posture was perfect, his back straight, chin high as he wore an angelic smile. jisung hears the clicking of the camera, and looks to his left to see you, in the viewfinder you see jisung looking in your direction, you pause for a moment and notice a baton heading straight towards him.

"jisung watch out!" you yell, at the words, he tilts his head.

you quickly take the strap of the camera off your neck, throwing it until it landed right beside your fellow journalists, who looked as confused as jisung did. you ran as fast as you could, grabbing jisung's wrist and pulling him close to you.

the baton managed to hit the ground instead, and jisung shrieks as he loses his balance, toppling forward. he quickly grabs onto the closest thing to him.

you.

you lowered your arms to catch jisung, and you feel him hold onto the sleeves of your blazer, one of your arms on his stomach, the other on his waist. all his weight was in your arms, causing for you to lose balance too.

"shit—" you swear, falling onto your back. jisung fell on top of you, the grass tickling his skin. your back immediately hits the grass, and your head hits the ground softly, but your arms remain around jisung. jisung's hands were still on your arms, his upper body laid on top of yours, his head was buried into your shoulder, and he was sat in between your legs.

jisung takes a sharp breath, a look of worry quickly flashes in his eyes as he sees you. "holy shit y/n are you okay!?" jisung asks, pulling away from your prior position and you sit up, opening your eyes to meet his worried ones. jisung kneels, leaning closer to you as he cups your cheeks with his hands. "did you get hurt? is your head okay!?" he asks, or yells, turning your head to inspect for any signs of wounds. you just stare at him, his bangs that messily lay against his forehead, his eyes that glimmered under the sunlight, and his pink lips that you totally just want to lean over and touch with your own.

"yeah.." you whisper, your cheeks squished from the force of jisung's hands.

jisung stops turning your head and sighs. "are you sure?" he asks, still holding your face. you nod, placing one of your hands on jisung's, his are soft, yours are rough, you note. you move his hand and smile. "i'm alright don't worry" you respond, still holding jisung's hand. jisung pursues his lips, and he extends his hand out, pulling you up from the ground. you let go of his hand, dusting off your pants.

"jesus y/n" taehyun's voice sounds from behind you, and you finally glance away from jisung, eyes focused on your friend. "are you okay? your not injured are you?"

"i'm fine.." you mumble again, blinking as taehyun suddenly hands you your camera. ah, he'd picked it up for you. you take it, inspecting it to make sure it's not broken.

"is the camera okay?" jisung inquires, looking over your shoulder to stare at it.

luckily, it wasn't damaged because it had fallen on the soft grass. "it's still working" you respond, and the two boys beside you let out a sigh of relief, with taehyun placing a hand on his chest.

"jisung! come back here!" his coach quickly yells, jisung looks to you, then back to his teammates. "thanks, i owe you" he says before running back towards his group, fetching the soccer ball he'd left on the ground prior.

"wow your like a hero!" sohee exclaims, shaking your shoulder with a smile. you just let out a nervous laugh, scratching your arm. you give one last glance at jisung before you feel your face heat up excessively, so you quickly turn away, putting your camera back around your neck.

"we should go back in now" you say, you don't say any more words as you quickly make your way towards the doors. your friends blink, exchanging glances in confusion, but they quickly follow you back inside.

"y/n! wait up!"

jisung watches you three leave, feeling his heart racing against his chest.

what the hell just happened? he asks himself.

"jisung are you okay!?" a very familiar voice shrieks. jisung turns to meet his fellow teammate jooyeon, looking concerned as ever.

"i'm alright, thanks for asking" he answers, gaze lowering down to his nails, which he quickly starts picking.

"are you sure? you looked like you hit your head pretty hard" the younger boy, as always, just wants to make sure jisung isn't lying, he's genuine like that. he pokes jisung's forehead, as if he was inspecting him.

"seriously, i'm fine" jisung lowers his hand, giving him his default 'i'm okay' smile. "y/n cushioned the blow anyway.."

"you were so close to him!" jisung startles as keum donghyun comes out of nowhere. "how did it feel? was it like a dream come true?"

"i—" jisung is speechless, he closes his mouth and blinks a good seven times before even actually assessing the question.

how did it feel?

jisung doesn't know how to express it. he didn't want to think about it in that way because you'd just done such a good deed, you saved him from flying metal going straight towards his head, he shouldn't have been thinking about the lack of distance between you two, he shouldn't have been staring at your lips, and he shouldn't have been thinking about kissing you.

his face must be so unbearably red right now.

"don't ask that! it was just very abrupt.. also, i can't think of him like that! he saved me from a flying baton, i'm just grateful for him".

jooyeon hums in agreement, slapping donghyun's shoulder for him ever asking such a thing. "that's right, you should probably get him a token of appreciation or something".

jisung blinks, trying to imagine what he should ever gift you. he truly has no idea, he's not sure if he should go over and beyond, or just give you a little gift as to not intimidate you. "i can't really think of anything, i don't want to overwhelm him or something, he just wanted to do a nice thing.."

"i'm sure he'll be appreciative of anything!"

at the words, jisung just sighs, smiling.

what a hero, l/n y/n— you really are something, he thinks.

"yeah— i'll think about it".

"good! back to practice now!"

jisung doesn't think he will ever fully be able to focus on practice, though.

"YOU LOOK LIKE YOU'VE BEEN RAN OVER BY A TRAIN" the words from the older boy, yang jeongin, snap you out of your polaroid staring daze. you flinch just the slightest, eyes peeling away from the scattering pictures which litter your desk. you rub your eyes, clearing your throat as you quickly gather all of the photos on your desk, hoping the eye bags present on your face weren't completely obvious. knowing jeongin though, they were definitely obvious. "thanks for the kind words" you respond sarcastically, a small eye roll accompanying your words. the older boy snickers, situating himself beside you, a teasing smile on his face. he props his legs up, blinking at you. "seriously though, you look like you haven't slept in years, are you alright?"

"i'm as alright as someone looking to pursue journalism can be.." you mutter back, placing the photos which were previously on your desk into your backup, a small sigh escapes your lips. "all of my applications are still pending.."

"seriously? i assume you would've been accepted into any of those schools by now!"

"you know how it all goes, they get hundreds— heck, thousands of applications every day, i just have to be patient".

jeongin raises an eyebrow, then just shrugs at you, humming. "there's no need to worry, y/n, you'll get into a good school".

you chuckle at his words, he totally read your mind when it came to that. "i'm not worried about anything" you lie; "i'll be okay, i know".

but do you?

your absolutely tired the whole entire day, you tried your best to focus in your classes, but you couldn't help your head slipping down and the way you almost slipped off to dreamland whilst your teachers were asking you very much audible questions.

"did you sleep last night?" sungchan asks you in the middle of your afternoon break, poking your arm as if to wake up. "you look like a zombie.."

"i slept a few.. hours?" your tone is very much a questioning one, as if you didn't even believe your own words. "i don't know, i was too busy fighting with lin, apparently i'm not good enough at what i do to consider journalism".

paired with the lack of response to your several applications, you weren't having the best week, it was all becoming just a little too much for you.

graduation is just too far away..

"anyway! did you choose the photos you'll put in the editorial yet?"

you think, for a while. you felt as if you had stared at so many polaroids by this point, that they're probably going to start appearing in your dreams, with the lack of sleep, constant flashing of cameras and just news news news, you've really had no time to focus on other things.

"i haven't even found time to think about the editorial" you whine, a weary sigh escaping your lips as you think about how pissed off your higher up is gonna be if you almost miss the deadline once again. "is the deadline coming up?"

"well— is four days a close deadline for you?"

you gasp, loudly, almost throwing your camera across the hallway. "four days!? four days until the deadline seriously!?"

you usually aren't like this. you are usually very calm, cool, and collected, but your week has been just the definition of a shit storm, and everything just seems getting worse and worse.

"hey, it's okay!" sungchan immediately replies, hoping to reassure you. he places a hand on your shoulder, a smile coming to his face. "it's not like this is anything new, it'll all be fine, you only have to choose two pictures anyway".

you sigh, rubbing your temples. "yeah" you breath. "it'll be fine, fine" you repeat, nodding your head as you relax yourself.

the hallway is crowded, not crowded crowded, but crowded enough that you couldn't help but begin counting the heads around you.

your eyes get stuck on a familiar figure across the hall.

park jisung, smiling and laughing with his friends. you get lost in a trance of admiring him, even though you can clearly hear sungchan talking to you. all your attention is immediately on him, and a small smile spreads across your face as you observe him, being himself.

there is absolutely no reason for him to be so breathtaking while just talking with his friend!

you are so distracted, and you don't mean to get stuck in this little reverie as you stare at the boy that you totally do not have a crush on.

he hasn't really left your mind, instead of just floating around in there like he'd been before that whole prior incident, now he occupies a whole subsection of your mind in recent days. you could be with your other friends, and all of a sudden your mind would wander off to jisung, or you could be in class and he just pops into your head.

you never thought you'd be one to get distracted easily, but you've clearly been proven wrong by just the alluring aura of park jisung.

you startle when jisung turns your way, making eye contact with you. he smiles upon noticing you, his eyes practically lighting up, and he waves at you. your a little taken aback, but jisung doesn't wait to see you wave back, just turning back towards his friend and continuing his previous conversation.

"what was that?"

"what was what?"

you quickly look over at sungchan, who had just witnessed that whole entire scene. he looks at you like you just grew a second head, and your face begins to burn as the realization dawns on you.

"you and park jisung!?"

your quick to try and sputter out a response, but you shake your head, face excessively heating up, it's probably red at this very moment. "there is nothing going on between us!"

"that doesn't seem like nothing!"

you realize how guilty you look right now. with your red face and constant insistence that there is absolutely nothing going on, those are traits the guiltiest of people display, and it all just makes you look even more guilty with how your face gets even more red.

(you must look like you're dying right now).

"it's just a friendly exchange!"

"not while your looking at him with hearts in your eyes!"

he was completely calling you out, and he was right. you were staring at jisung like he was an angel that had graced your presence, you stare at him like he's a saint and everyone else doesn't matter, as if he's the only person in the room. "i— i wasn't! i was just zoned out and he just waved at me to say hi!"

sungchan narrows his eyes suspiciously at you, totally not buying it. "uh huh, sure" his voice conveys disbelief. "just know, i'm onto you y/n".

you nudge him in the shoulder, seriously wanting to change the topic. "yeah yeah whatever" you cross your arms as you mutter the words, you're sure if you take one more glance at jisung, you won't be able to look away, so you just clear your throat and walk the other way, face still red as sungchan teases you the whole entire time.

maybe if you glanced back, you'd see jisung watching as you left..

JISUNG WAS REALLY HOPING HE'D BE ABLE TO catch you before school dismissed. you two haven't genuinely had an actual talk since you saved him from the flying baton heading straight towards his head. all you two have done is give smiles, waves, and mutter small greetings to each other in the hallway. he had to admit, it upset him in just the slightest, because he really did want to just have a conversation with you (of course, he isn't exactly sure he'd be able to get through a conversation with you without blushing like a madman anyway), but your schedules just kept conflicting, so even catching a glimpse of you around the campus has become difficult for him to do.

he doesn't want to waste any opportunity he has in his hands—

"y/n!"

when jisung sees you across the hall, he realizes that he shouldn't take this chance for granted. you turn around at the call of your name, smiling as you see the others making his way towards you. jisung runs a hand through his hair, hoping he isn't making anything awkward. "jisung hi, do you need something?"

you smile politely at him, a smile so beautiful it seems like it could get rid of all the problems in the world. jisung loves your smile, he could stare at it for hours, is that creepy? he hopes it's not creepy..

"oh uh—" the words he'd been planning to say somehow get caught in his throat, but he clears his throat and proceeds. "i was wondering if i could walk you home?"

you blink, puzzled by the question. why would he want to walk you home? your mind begins to wander, trying to figure out why he'd want to do such a thing.

can't you just ask y/n? stop being an idiot..

"why?"

you don't mean for your words to come out that way, and you're almost afraid that you made jisung uncomfortable with your tone of voice, but he instead just smiles, squashing any of your bad thoughts. you love jisung's smile, you think it's underrated, so little people talk about it and the fact shocks you, you could probably compliment his smile for hours—

but that sounds just a little creepy.

"i just want to accompany you—" —and this is my only excuse to be around you— "do something nice for you after you did something nice for me".

the words make you pause. he's just.. so thoughtful huh? you've never heard of someone wanting to repay you for being nice, it's actually a little strange if you think about it.

"jisung you don't have to reward me for doing something nice.."

"it'd be great to walk with you, though, you make good company".

that's it? that's really it?

you're not sure why you're surprised about that, maybe it's just the idea that he literally searched for you just to say this, he truly just wants to walk you home, he truly just wants to spend time with you.

he thinks i make good company, just the thought alone is enough to make you giggle in your head. your inner thoughts sound ridiculous, but you can't help them.

"if you don't want me to it's totally oka—"

"no no no" you immediately cut into his sentence, hoping that didn't come off as desperate as it sounded. "i'm glad you offered to walk me home, i'd love to walk with you too".

you unsuccessfully try to mutter those last few words, a sudden shyness taking over you. jisung smiles, glad, no, elated at your agreement. he doesn't know why he's that happy, but he hopes it isn't clear and evident, he'd never live it down.

after bidding a goodbye to your friends, and telling sungchan you'd make sure to choose the photos for your editorials, you dragged jisung out of the school doors, much to your and jisung's surprise, as well as the shock of a few of your classmates, he made sure to eye the both of you suspiciously.

"what interested you in photography?"

a scene like this is something jisung thought he'd never get to, being able to talk to you, one on one. just the two of you sharing a simple conversation is what he's wanted for an uncharted amount of time, even with how straightforward it is, the two of you could never really find time to converse normally.

when jisung asks the question, you almost think you heard him wrong. he genuinely wants to know? in a way, you feel like you've always been just the slightest bit boring, yeah you wanna do journalism and love taking aesthetically pleasing photos but you've never considered what you do to be a talent by any means.

you pick at your fingers, looking down at the ground instead of at jisung. "it's an interest i picked up from my mother, i've always been shocked how she could just do that, you know? i love videography and stuff like that as well, i love how one can capture so much with just a single camera".

your words intrigue jisung, and he listened the whole entire way, not interrupting you once. he found a smile crossing his face at the clear display of passion for your creative work, he loves the way you put it into words. god if he didn't admire you before, he surely did now.

"what about you? you're pretty much good at everything, what drew you to the adrenaline rushing excitement of soccer?"

jisung pauses, allowing himself to let out a small snicker at the question. "i don't really enjoy soccer".

you raise an eyebrow. "oh?"

jisung laughs again, your tone of voice amusing him. "don't say it like that.. it's not that i hate it, i'm just not as into it like everyone expects me to be, i got onto the school team and i've been stuck there ever since" there isn't exactly distaste in jisung's tone, he just states it casually, like how it is. his voice is just simple, mundane, he doesn't dislike soccer, it's just not what he's looking forward to do.

you love his honesty.

"i'm into other things in a much more passionate sense, like dance, soccer is just a hobby" he finally finishes, pulling his sleeves over his arms as he avoids eye contact with you.

"so no professional soccer player park jisung?"

"i think i'll leave it to the other guy to be known for that".

you chuckle at his words, okay, he's funny (you knew that already, you just had to reiterate it in your head). god how can a guy be so perfect? you get why people are so into jisung, he's charming even without trying. you feel like the luckiest guy on earth knowing he asked to walk you home.

"y/n, i'm a very.." jisung pauses, as if trying to articulate the words he was about to say. "i really admire you a lot".

you almost lose it.

park jisung, beautiful, talented, hardworking park jisung admires you? he is an admirer of yours? you don't even know what to say, you try your best to sputter out a response but your brain is practically malfunctioning. your face goes red, and you go silent for a few minutes.

"i don't get it" is what you say, and jisung just cocks his head towards the side, observing you. "what's so admirable about me?"

"do you want a list?"

oh i'd love that. "i don't think you should waste your time".

"i wouldn't be wasting my time" jisung smiles, his gaze focused on you and only you, there's a way he's looking at you that keeps you still, unable to look away from him. "i never get the chance to tell you, i'd love to talk about everything i admire about you".

when did jisung get so bold? he'll never know where this random confidence came from, but he has an opportunity, he can't let it go to waste. he has to bring it up to you.

"what i do is nothing incredible—"

"i would disagree".

you should be angry that jisung interrupted you, but you found yourself smiling at his words. he's so generous, he doesn't have to tell you this, he doesn't have to compliment you like this, but he's doing it on his own accord, he wants to.

"okay then.. is it a good time to tell you that i also feel the same?"

jisung's ears go red, so red that it looks like smoke is gonna start pouring out of them. he is shocked, absolutely speechless. you admire him? does that mean he's gotten it all wrong these past few years? does that mean you return his feelings as well—

wait what?

"oh really?"

the prior confidence jisung had when telling you about his admiration has now all fizzled away, his voice almost cracks as he tries to register your words, and thank god it doesn't.

"it's kind of like what you said, you're amazing, a very admirable person, i know you don't really think of yourself like that but i do, and it's nice to be able to tell you up front".

jisung remains silent, but you don't mind, you just give him a smile and continue walking forward, allowing for him to catch up to you.

"is that actually true?"

"why would i lie to you?" you turn around, your whole body facing him. you begin walking backwards and wait for jisung's reply to your question. "don't give me that look".

jisung frowns, a playful one, he sends you a cute little glare that makes you giggle. he's absolutely adorable, you think in your head, he's the cutest person ever right now.

"you admire me?"

"yep".

"more than i admire you?"

"definitely, and don't even try to argue with me".

jisung opens his mouth to do exactly that, but you stop, turning around as you make it to the front of your house. "okay well, thank you for walking me home, ji".

jisung raises an eyebrow, noting down the nickname in his head. it's a common nickname, but he loves the way it sounds coming from you, he loves that you didn't just drop his full name.

"it's no problem.."

"i—"

you're cut off by the sound of the door opening, and your met with the face of your mother, whose face immediately brightens at the sight of you. you smile at her, and jisung just kinda stands there awkwardly.

"hi honey" she wraps her arms around you, and you let her, leaning your head onto her shoulder. "i thought you were staying late today?"

you shake your head. "not today, it's friday remember?"

"ohhh, yeah".

jisung glances down at the ground, playing with his feet. he doesn't know what to say, he doesn't want to interrupt the conversation you're having with your mother—

but he doesn't have to say anything, because your mother pipes up.

"oh! and who might this be?" she narrows her eyes at jisung, cogs in her brain seem to turn but then she snaps his fingers and gasps, seemingly getting it. "oh my god! park jisung?"

jisung smiles, a little laugh escaping his lips. "that is me".

"holy, you've changed so much? the last time i saw you you were barely up to my knees!"

at the sound of your mothers words, you give jisung a teasing stare, one which he quickly turns away from. "you and y/n are finally friends? i was wondering when it'd happen.."

your face goes bright red at the words, and an awkward chuckle escapes your lips. "seems he was too, he always talked about it—"

"haha! what!? that's hilarious mom!" you quickly cut in, not wanting her to talk about your former ramblings about park jisung, park jisung who was right beside you. "yeah okay, jisung i'll see you monday?"

jisung nods, a little too desperately for his liking, luckily you don't notice. "yeah, monday, have a good weekend, y/n".

you smile, blood rushing through your cheeks. "be safe".

he gives a small wave and turns around, beginning the walk back towards his home.

"he's such a nice kid, you sure you're just friends?"

your jaw pretty much drops, and you give your mother a look you don't think you've ever shared with her before. "yes! just friends!"

"hmm, sure".

"WHO ARE THOSE FOR?" CHENLE asks as he immediately notices the goodies in jisung's hands. he raises an eyebrow suspiciously at his best friend, examining the bouquet of flowers and box jisung held. jisung ignores him for a couple of minutes, placing the box in his locker and closing it behind him. "for someone" he just replies, hoping he could just remain vague instead of telling chenle about his true plans. the older narrows his eyes, clearly curious about this 'someone'. he flicks jisung in the forehead, resulting in a yelp from the other, who glares. "ow! what was that for?" he asks, furrowing his eyebrows and rubbing his forehead, a frown now coming to his face.

"what you're hiding stuff from me now?" chenle rolls his eyes at jisung's frown. "who are those flowers for? you got a boyfriend or something?"

chenle was right in assuming it was a boy that was making him go crazy, but you aren't his boyfriend (not yet at least, he's trying, really). he doesn't want to exactly divulge his plans to his nosy best friend yet, just because he'd go around telling everybody he could about what jisung was doing, he didn't want anything to be spoiled.

"they're for.. y/n".

jisung winces the moment he says those words, because chenle goes absolutely crazy.

"FOR WHO!?"

jisung is quick to slap a hand over chenle's mouth, glaring at him for how loud he said those words. "could you be any more obvious?" he asks, gritting his teeth as he continues to glare at his shorter best friend, whose eyes just widen even more. "yes they're for y/n—"

"what are you two dating now?" chenle doesn't care about anything jisung has to say, he slaps his hand away and stares in interest, wanting to know more.

"no! were not dating! it's just—" jisung pauses, how is he even gonna explain this without looking super guilty? blood rushes through his cheeks as he thinks about it, about how these are your favorite flowers, about how you might react. "i wanted to get him something nice! he did a good thing and.."

and i am just so in love with him, i think i might be going insane.

"i just want to do something nice!"

"okay but are you doing something nice or are you getting ready to ask him out?"

jisung's face goes a dangerously red color, and he immediately shakes his head, denial coursing through his veins. "i'm not going to ask him out, i mean— i get why you think that but it's not what it looks like!"

chenle raises an eyebrow, staring at his totally lovestruck best friend. "it sure does seem to be what it looks like".

"chenle—"

"look, jisung, there's no need to deny that you have such an obvious crush on y/n" chenle states like it's a matter of a fact, because it is, they both know it very well, he's better at assessing jisung's feelings than jisung himself is. "he thinks your cute, you think he's cute, you two just need to ask each other out".

"um.." jisung presses his lips together, the two falling into a weird silence. he clutches the daisies in his hands, thinking about you, but he shuts off his thoughts to respond to chenle's little analysis of him.

"i just don't know where we stand, i mean we're barely even friends".

"you two are pretty much already more than friends considering he can't talk to you without looking like he's about to devour you whole".

jisung's face must be an astonishing shade of red right now. "it's not—! i don't know how to explain it okay!?"

"yeah and how are you gonna explain the flowers?" chenle points at the daisies jisung is practically squeezing to death. "other people are probably gonna get another idea".

"well i'll let them think what they want" jisung responds, his only focus is you, who cares what other people think? your his main priority. "y/n is my main focus, i don't care about what other people are saying".

chenle chuckles at his response, oh park jisung is so down bad, he's so in love with you, a kind of love chenle has never seen him have for another person. yes park jisung, love avoiding extraordinaire, is head over heels in love with a boy, chenle cannot believe it.

"okay jisung, go ahead with your wooing y/n mission or something".

at least chenle is supportive.

jisung has to go through so many interrogations to explain to your fellow photographers why he's giving you flowers, while a few of them just shrug and get it, the rest of them make sure to eye him suspiciously while he goes on with his explanation and bright red ears.

he knows most of them probably won't keep their mouths shut, and jisung knows that you told him he shouldn't get you anything for preventing him from getting any future brain damage, but jisung disagrees, he thinks you deserve gifts.

"who are those for?"

your brain doesn't register the flowers, or the connection that they have with your not-so-secret admirer, you just stare at them puzzled. "they're for you!" sohee yells from somewhere else in the room, focused on another important thing.

your eyebrows furrow, and you blink as you stare at the daisies on the table. daisies are your favorite flowers, but everyone knows that! these could be from anyone! you're no stranger to getting random gifts from people, so these could really be from anyone.

but you only have a certain person in mind..

"from who?" you ask, but you really already know who, considering the knowing look sohee sends to you.

"jisung".

of course, you say in your head, your fingers trace the packaging of the bouquet, admiring the pretty flowers before you (the pretty flowers given to you by a pretty boy), a small smile comes to your face as you think about it. you told jisung not to get you anything, but he obviously wasn't going to listen to you, he's made that very clear.

"did he tell you anything?"

sohee doesn't spare you another glance, but you can just tell he's grinning like a madman with the way he's clearly trying to hold in his laughter. "he just told me to make sure to get them to you, he was very insistent".

the teasing tone of your friends voice doesn't go unnoticed by you, and your barely able to stifle your laugh, not at sohee exactly, but at jisung's actions.

of course he didn't listen when you said for him to not get you anything, he remembered what your favorite flowers are, did he spend his weekend thinking about it? you wonder what kind of florists we must've went to.. your mind races with just jisung thoughts, and you're just so lost in them that you don't realize your zoning out.

oh park jisung, why do you have to be so sweet?

"DID YOU REALLY HAVE TO?" YOU immediately ask the moment you come across park jisung in the hallway. the boy blinks, smiling at the sight of you, his face practically brightens at the sight of you. "what do you mean?" he inquired innocently, a small tilt of his head adding to his question. you send him a glare, not a serious one, but it's still a glare. you can't even believe his audacity, for him to look at you with such beautiful eyes, make your knees feel weak without even having to do anything? park jisung is just such a crazy man, you don't know if you can stare at him any longer, you might end up passing out from heat exhaustion (the heat from your face, of course, something that's become so normal for you when around park jisung).

"don't 'what do you mean?' me, i told you not to get me anything!" you complain, lightly shoving jisung's shoulder. "seriously, i said it was fine.." you mumble those words, but jisung just smiles.

"i wanted to get you something anyway, i needed to show you my appreciation somehow".

but just your admiration is enough appreciation for me, just you being around is enough, just you is enough.

your own thoughts weird you out on occasions.

"i told you not to—"

"but i wanted to, it's fine y/n, seriously, just accept my gesture".

you bite your inner cheek, he just always has to be nice, doesn't he? your cheeks flare up and you swear your face goes a shade of red you've never seen before, how does one boy even affect you like this? you don't think you've ever acted like this around any of your other admirers ever..

"ah" a small smile comes to your face. "thank you" you whisper, you're not sure why you get so shy all of a sudden.

"it's no problem" jisung responds, a smile coming to his face. he closes the door to his locker, and then leans onto it. "walk with me?"

you blink, jisung really likes walking with you, huh? is this gonna become your thing? you wouldn't really mind when you think about it.. you enjoy walking with jisung, you just enjoy any time you can spend with jisung.

"what's with you and asking to walk with me?"

"walking with you is just.. nice".

"do i ease your stresses or something?"

your tone is meant to come off as teasing, and your question is mostly unserious, you don't register how you sound like your flirting with jisung, probably because everything just feels so natural with jisung, you love how you feel around him, it's confusing to explain.

"i guess you could say that" jisung's response snaps you out of your jisung focused thoughts, thoughts which are difficult to not get stuck in considering park jisung is constantly occupying your mind these days. "anyway, can you walk with me?"

you pause, tongue pressing against the inside of your cheek. you have class in twenty minutes, and you don't really want to walk back all the way with only five minutes left to make it to class. "i don't know.. chen might kill me".

"please?"

that catches you off guard, you seemingly forget how to think for a second. jisung really wants to walk with you so bad, he's reverting to that easily convincing voice of his? you'd be an idiot to say no, you'd be an idiot to deny anything given to you by park jisung, you sigh in your head.

"okay, fine".

a smile of victory places itself on jisung's face, and he takes your hand, to your own surprise, as the two of you begin making your way down the hall. you wanna bring it up, but you don't want him to let go of you, so you don't. your face goes a bright shade of red, jisung doesn't seem to mind, or maybe he's always wanted to hold your hand, you aren't sure.

you focus way too much on it, on the way it feels, how jisung's soft hands contrast your rough ones, how warm his hands are, you don't want to let go, you don't want him to let go. god, you feel like such a loser, freaking out over a boy holding your hand.

but it's not just a boy, it's park jisung, park jisung makes you feel things you thought you'd never feel before..

"why do you seem so worried?" jisung chuckles, his hand holding yours. he nudges your shoulder lightly, raising an eyebrow.

"because, i don't wanna be late".

jisung snickers, not making fun of you, though, he hopes you don't think that. "have you never skipped a class before?"

your eyes widen as large as saucers, model student park jisung has skipped classes? a small chuckle escaped your lips. "no, i could never bring myself to, it always made me feel strange.."

now it's jisung's turn to look surprised, you laugh again, why does he assume you skip classes? or have even attempted to skip? you wonder what goes through his mind. "are you serious? you've never tried to skip before?"

you scoff, pinching his arm. "i tried to once in the sixth grade because of a dare from friends, but i literally couldn't do it, they called me a wimp for the rest of the year".

"aww sad".

"don't give me your fake pity, also— you've skipped class before!?"

jisung chuckles at your surprise, giving a small smile. "it was a few times as a sophomore, some classes are just so boring i can't resist".

"wow, model student park jisung skips his classes? i cannot believe the information that has been bestowed upon me".

the words, paired with your sarcastic tone made jisung let out yet another snicker, he hopes he's not overdoing it in your eyes, you're genuinely just a very funny person. "oh no! don't use this secret to tarnish my pristine reputation!"

"you're such an idiot".

a cute idiot.

"be quiet, you still love me" jisung rebuts, adding a small nudge to your shoulder along with his words.

it's weird to say, but you like this. even with your totally non-romantic feelings for jisung, you find this nice. is this what dating him would be like? you get to hold hands and joke around in the halls without a care in the world? you think you'd enjoy that, you'd enjoy dating park jisung.

wait what?

you snap out of your thoughts when jisung stops, so you stop too. he lets go of your hand, and you resist the urge to frown, because you don't want to come off as desperate. (but you are desperate, you're so desperate, having park jisung hold your hand was so nice, you want him to hold it again).

"this is my stop, thank you for my walking with me".

the words are simple, basic, but you find your face heating up at them anyway. you clear your throat, not wanting to stay silent any longer. "it was no problem, i couldn't disagree anyway".

jisung laughs, he is so pretty, so pretty without even having to do anything significant. "of course you couldn't" he looks down at his feet. "anyway! have a good day y/n, don't be late to your next class!"

you blink as you watch jisung walk into the auditorium for his next class, you watch as he walks away, standing there for what seems like forever. how could a guy, just a guy affect you so much? what is it with park jisung and making you stop in your tracks? he's mesmerizing, just so easily draws you in.

your eyes widen as you realize the time, you're going to be late for your next class, mr. chen is going to kill you!

and as you totally sprint down the hallway to get to your next class, your mind is racing with thoughts of park jisung the entire time.

"AM I NOT YOUR BEST FRIEND?" YOU CAN practically hear the pout in sungchan's voice as he said those words. you place the extra polaroids on your desk, then glance up at your friend, who stares at you with an expression of defeat on his face. you raise an eyebrow, puzzled at what the actual hell he's talking about, he's always just bringing stuff up so randomly, you can't even keep up with what he's referring to now. sungchan just frowns, letting out a groan of frustration as plops down beside you, a small huff adding to his words. you chuckle at the way he decides to present himself, and he groans once again, very frustrated. "where is this coming from?"

"why didn't you tell me about you and jisung".

you pause, an expression of surprise comes to your face, your face which heats up astonishingly quickly. "me and jisung? me and jisung what? we aren't—"

"y/n there's no point in denying it, everyone already knows".

"everyone already knows what?"

"that you and jisung have a thing, it's fine if you don't wanna tell everyone but excluding me? your best friend in the whole entire world from the news?"

"jisung and i aren't dating!" you say immediately, clasping your hands together as you try to calm your rapidly beating heart. why do people even think that? yeah you like park jisung but how did people even reach the conclusion that you were dating? you're not even sure if jisung returns your feelings. "i don't even know where people got that idea.."

"so your constant yearning stares and pitched up giggles are all not apart of that?"

"i don't—" you are definitely showcasing all guilty characteristics, your red face, your shrill voice, and your very obvious lying, sungchan sees right through you, anyone would be able to. "yearning stares are stupid i don't do that!"

"yeah, sure y/n" sungchan sighs, and you groan, screaming into your pillow. "i'm not trying to be mean or anything, but it's disgustingly obvious that you're into jisung, and i mean in a cringy way".

you gasp in offense, turning away from your best friend. you want to remain stubborn, but you can't, of course you can't, how can you even deny your feelings for jisung anymore if other people can now tell that you like him? your face heats up in embarrassment, and you cover your face with your hands. "is it really that obvious?" you mutter, hoping the answer isn't what you think it is.

"yeah, very, i wouldn't even be surprised if the two of you were actually dating and this was a little trick of yours".

sungchan points at you, an accusatory look in his eyes, but he immediately lets it go, because he knows you, and he can tell that you are telling the truth. you don't even have the courage to look at him, still covering your face with your hands. "have you not told jisung how you feel yet?"

your silence tells sungchan everything he needs to know, and the look he gives you is absolutely criminal.

"YOU HAVEN'T!?"

"i haven't found any time too!"

"how much time have you been spending around jisung these days!? you haven't even tried to bring it up to him!"

you let yourself fall to the side, half your body hanging off your bed. "i don't know how to" you whine, mind immediately rushing to thoughts of park jisung, thoughts you probably shouldn't be having. "it's awkward!"

"well i'm sure jisung feels the same with the way he always has to resist the urge to kiss you in the hallway".

"with the way he WHAT!?"

the words are enough to make you rise from your formerly fallen state, a look of astonishment on your face. did jisung really return your feelings? or was sungchan just trying to start something that would end up absolute humiliation?

"y/n, not trying to be rude or anything, but it's so obvious that jisung wants to date you, he doesn't even have to say it for everyone to know!"

you feel like you just discovered the secrets of the universe with those words, park jisung likes you? like likes you likes you? once the realization dawns on you, you gasp loudly.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME!? OH MY GOD I CAN'T BELIEVE I WAS SUCH AN IDIOT UGH!"

sungchan watches you freak out, he truly can't believe that he had to tell you for all of it to finally set in.

it's actually pretty funny, and he snickers as he watches you go absolutely ballistic.

"HAVE YOU SEEN Y/N?" JISUNG ASKS the first recognizable person he sees in the hallway. he hasn't seen any seniors anywhere for a while, but that's because the days keep getting warmer, meaning graduation keeps getting closer, most of the seniors only take two classes and then go on to do their extracurriculars, so they don't really have to spend the whole entire day at school, but it's weird today because he usually always sees you, even when he isn't purposefully looking for you (which has become a common thing for him to do, he's just loves the time he can spend with you). he hopes you aren't absent, because today is friday, and if he doesn't tell you his important news now he's going have to wait an extra two days.

"y/n? uh..." the unfamiliar boy pauses for a moment, as if thinking, and jisung is hoping that it isn't the worst, because he really needs you to be here today. "well i'm not sure where he is actually! probably with his other photographers".

"but he's here right?" jisung doesn't care if he comes off as desperate, his only focus is you, you are his main priority, he doesn't care about the impression he's making on others, he can truly only think about you at the moment.

"yeah! i'm just not sure where exactly!"

"okay thank you!"

the guy gives him a strange look, a mix of teasing and giddy, but jisung walks off too fast to see it, he's set on finding you. he doesn't exactly know where he's supposed to go, he's just hoping to somehow spot you and be able to get you alone.

"what are you rushing for?" chenle comes out of nowhere, noticing jisung's urgency and the way he's clearly focused on something specific strikes him as odd, but he already has an idea of what's making jisung so fidgety. "you're gonna confess your love to y/n or something?"

"yes, actually i am chenle, it'd be great if i could find him, though".

maybe it's jisung's surprising honesty, or the way his main priority is you. chenle finds it amusing how quick the switch flipped, but it's also kind of cute. the usual pessimist, mr 'i don't really care about love' park jisung is down bad for a boy, it's adorable. "have you tried the photography room?"

"where do you think i'm heading?"

chenle chuckles at jisung's attitude, simply smiling and pulling his cheek. "alright then! don't forget to tell me how it goes!"

jisung doesn't spare chenle another glance, just turns back around and focuses on the task at hand, finding you and telling you how he feels.

jisung wonders how you'll react, based on what he's seen, it's not completely guaranteed that you'll reject him, it's probably more likely that you return his feelings rather than don't. does that make him horrible? thinking because you've exhibited the traits of someone who has a crush that you have a crush on him?

maybe you don't like him and he's letting it all get to his head, it all just seems too good to be true.

jisung doesn't even have to go all the way to the photography room, because he bumps right into you whilst on his way there, and a small yelp escapes your lips. "oh my god.. sorry!"

jisung cannot contain his excitement, and his nervousness. there is absolutely nothing to be nervous about, this is y/n. kind, understanding, charming y/n, it's not like he's going to scream at you for telling him you like him. it’ll all be fine.

"it's alright" you whisper, shaking your head for a moment. "i was looking for you" you immediately say, not allowing for jisung to speak before you.

jisung's eyes widen. you were looking for him? it makes his brain go haywire, figurative cogs in his head turning. "that's ironic, i was looking for you too".

jisung swears he can see the red coloring on your cheeks, but he doesn't say anything about it.

"i have to tell you something".

the two of you say that sentence in unison, the same amount of anxiety coursing through your veins, the same red hue on your cheeks, the same look of surprise in your eyes. "you can go first" you whisper, picking at your fingers, you aren't exactly sure if you want to hear what he's about to say.

"are you sure? it seems you have something more important to say.."

"it's fine! really, i can just say it after yo—"

"i'm in love with you".

the words strike you like a punch to the gut, a slap to the face. your stomach drops, your face is burning horribly, and your legs feel like they're about to give in. you cannot believe it, you hope you don't pass out, you hope you don't just die right here, that'd be so embarrassing.

park jisung is in love with you. beautiful, talented, model student park jisung who you've never truly known how you felt about is in love with you. you are so happy, giddy, and it disgusts you, but the disgust is quickly replaced by the feeling of joyousness. park jisung is in love with you, he feels the same way.

"jisung, i'm—"

"it's okay if you don't return my feelings i just wanted to tell you!" is that really what he thinks? that you don't love him back? he must be crazy, you've only ever exhibited reciprocal feelings. "i'll be off now!"

"no! don't go!" you grab jisung's wrist before he can walk away. smart move y/n, you're acting so natural right now. "i just, i return your feelings! i just don't know how to explain it, also my hands are very sweaty right now and i feel gross.."

you let go of jisung's wrist and feel your face get unbearably hotter. it's embarrassing, you feel so embarrassed, but it's park jisung, and jisung just stares at you lovingly. you're so cute, how did it take him this long to tell you how he felt?

"you're so cute".

jisung doesn’t even realize he says the words until you give him that look, and your red face just makes him giggle more. "this isn't— that is not fair! i was supposed to confess first!"

"you're the one who told me to go first!"

"i didn't know you were going to tell me you liked me! i prepared a whole sentence for you and everything!"

you whine, covering your red face with your hands. jisung removes your hands from your face, and a small smile graces his pretty features. he's absolutely gorgeous, he has such a pretty smile, you have the sudden urge to tell him about it. "your smile is beautiful".

now it's jisung's turn to become the red faced lovesick fool. "ah, really?" he responds, voice shaky, hands even more shaky, but they're so soft, your mind always reminds you to note that.

you hum in agreement. "it's very pretty, i can't believe more people don't talk about it".

"well you can talk about it, aren't we technically dating now?"

the question makes you pause. you feel like your about to go insane, you're dating park jisung? park jisung is your boyfriend? this is like a dream come true, a dream you thought would stay a dream and only a dream. "dating? dating! yeah yeah!"

your natural act is not natural at all, you are very nervous, so nervous you feel like your about to collapse onto the floor. "there's no need to be so nervous.."

you groan. "says you!"

"alright y/n" jisung lets go of your hands, much to your dismay, because you frown. he takes note, and reaches over to grab your own once again, intertwining your fingers. "we’re dating, you don't have to go red faced every time i compliment you now".

"but it's you, how do i not?"

jisung sighs, leaning forward and pressing a small peck on your lips. oh he is such a stupid little—

"why would you do that!?"

"i'm sorry!" jisung giggles, he was definitely not sorry. "it was an instinct, i had to!"

"you— ugh!"

park jisung can't just not make you nervous, he's such a crazy man.

one that you love, of course.

"I THINK I LIKE THIS ONE THE MOST.." JISUNG states, admiring the polaroid photos which litter the desk. you hum at his words, rummaging through the box on the counter, you are very much focused on finding that estranged camera taehyun had pointed for you to find. your boyfriend glances up, looking over your shoulder, silently watching as you get frustrated about this stupid camera you couldn't find. "which one?" you inquire, glancing over at him. jisung holds up the polaroid, a picture you'd taken of you and sungchan at the beach when you were nine. a pretty photo, you aren't even sure how you pulled it off. "ah, that is a pretty one" you whisper, and you smile the moment jisung smiles. his smile is so pretty, a cute stretch which is enough to make you smile, even if you feel down.

"what’s with your face?"

"searching for this old camera is pissing me off" you remark, knowing that you have to search for this is just making you even more mad, why do you have to pack the photography room right before graduation? you hate it. "who even left it in here?"

"a former student maybe?"

you close your eyes, sighing. "i need this to be over so much more quickly" you complain, and jisung just laughs at your misery.

"we graduate in a week, y/n, just be patient" the younger pokes your cheek, then he cups your face, trying to make your frown disappear. "an old camera is not the end of the world".

you glance down at jisung's lips, then narrow your eyes. "are you trying to seduce me?" you question, raising an eyebrow.

"no?" jisung responds, adding a small tilt of his head to his words. "do i sound believable?"

"not at all" you say, pushing jisung's hands away and looking back to the box in front of you so you can continue to scour for this camera you have to get for your friend. you continue to search through the box, trying to find this old dslr camera for your friend. "so don't distract me".

"i'm not!" jisung whines, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his chin onto your shoulder, watching you try to succeed at your mission of finding a camera. "you don't want to give me, your lovely, amazing boyfriend attention?"

you merely roll your eyes at jisung, he's so annoying (in a cute way), you're about to call chenle to drag him away from you, but you also don't want him to let go of you, his arms around your waist make you feel safe, loved, park jisung makes you feel so loved.

"i found it!" you shriek, victory soaring in your voice. "fucking finally".

"okay so can you give me a kiss now?" jisung asks, puckering his lips and leaning closer to you.

he's so desperate, and you are too, it's adorable, park jisung is adorable. "hmm" you pretend to think about it, an inquisitive look making it's way to your face. "nah".

"y/n! that's not fair!" jisung whines, shaking you with his arms that are still around your waist. he frowns, trying to give you his best puppy dog eyes.

you almost give in, but you push him away, taking the camera you'd been searching for. "later, babe".

"you said that this morning!"

you sigh, turning around to stare at the pouting park. the cute pout remains on his face, how can you ever resist him? you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips, ruffling his hair. "there, are you happy you big baby?"

"you could do better".

"uh huh, and you could be patient".

jisung frowns once again, but it's not a serious one, just the cute one he likes to do when he pretends to be mad at you. "don't be mad, you know i love you".

jisung does know, he knows that very well. he smiles at you, he's so in love with you, and not even in an embarrassing way, there's nothing embarrassing about this, he feels joyful, a sense of euphoria overtakes him whenever he’s with you.

"i know, i love you too".

and he isn't lying when he says that.

because he truly does.

[soapisahimbo]

NSFW ABC - Simon 'Ghost' Riley Edition

Here he is, finally! The man, the myth, the legend! I'll be honest, I actually had a bit of a hard time on this one, and I'm still not sure how I feel about it, but I didn't want to leave you guys hanging for too long, so I sincerely hope you enjoy!

Contains heavy smut elements, so minors stay away!

warnings: senseless smut, detailed descriptions, ghost is a dirty lad but secretly a softie, hinted at female anatomy

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex):

Methodical, but not without warmth. He asks you genuinely if you're ok, if anything hurts, if you want to get in the shower or if you want him to go get a towel to clean you off so that you can lay down to rest, depending on how intense the session was - a little bit like damage control. He might take you to the shower anyways if he thinks it's the best option for you, but he'll do most of the work. He can be quite rough even when he tries to tone it down, so he wants to make sure he hasn't caused you any actual harm in the heat of the moment and he does that best by actually looking after you. He does love it if you wash him off as well, scrubbing over his chest and arms, but he won't really say much. He'll just let out a low, rumbling sigh and lean his cheek against the top of your head and honestly that alone tells you all you need to know. He lets you cup his face and plants all the kisses you want on his face and mouth, simply holding you in his arms and relishing in the moment.

Once you've started cleaning up and checking in on each other in this fashion, any extra rounds is pretty much out of the question. This is to wind down, to relax, to clean off, put on some comfortable clothes, settle back down into bed and hold each other close. Not that Simon can't go on for what feels like forever, but he greatly appreciates the peace and quiet he gets with you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

As far as Simon's concerned, his body serves its' purpose well. He doesn't exactly lack confidence, but he's by no means vain, and rarely looks at himself in the mirror unless it's to get a better angle to check on wounds or to clean himself. He's found a certain pride in his arms though, mainly because he can wrap them around you like some sort of boa constrictor and there's little you can do to escape it. He finds a sort of hidden, perhaps slightly sadistic, glee in that you can't do much else but take what he gives you (he's not an asshole, though - should you give even the slightest hint that you were uncomfortable or didn't want it, he'd let you go in an instant and make sure you're ok).

As for you, he is quietly obsessed your hands and your hips. Feeling your hands roam over his body is addicting, because he's not quite used to being touched in the way that you touch him, and your hips fit perfectly in his own hands (and his own hips fit perfectly there, too). But all in all, no matter how much he loses himself in the crooks and curves of your body, it's your eyes that do him in every time. He doesn't want to admit it, but it's why he mostly buries his face in your neck or takes you from behind. Your eyes make him weak. If you look into his eyes and beg him for whatever (to slow down, to speed up, to let you come) or even worse, say his name, you'll send shivers through his entire body. He tries not to let it get to his head, but the effect that you have on him, the way something in him falls apart when your eyes meet... it almost scares him. If you get a chance to take control, even for a second, grab him by the hair and demand that he looks you in the eye when he fucks you. You'll render him not only speechless, but also absolutely feral.

He wants to be methodical about this too, but he loses himself far too easily in you, and cumming all over your lower stomach and hole scratches some sort of itch in him that he didn't quite know he had. He will keep your thighs spread just so he can watch it drip down between them, and will most likely push it into you either with his fingers or his cock, fucking you a bit more until you cum again. If he has it in him, he'll cum in you once more and spread your hole just so he can watch as it leaks back out (before fingering it back into you yet again). Won't say a word during it, but you'll feel his eyes practically burning into your skin.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):

He will absolutely cum down your throat if you let him and you can take it, keeping a close eye on you so that you're not actually uncomfortable or struggling. Wants you to show him that you've swallowed it all down though, or spit it back out on his cock so that he can fuck it into you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

Before the two of you actually got together, you had a fling with another soldier at the base. Simon never commented on it, but he kept an eye on you in case he turned out to be an asshole or something. He tried not to give it too much thought; he just wanted to make sure you were all right. Totally not because he was jealous or anything, obviously.

He was actually looking for you when it happened, he just hadn't expected to find you in this... condition. Peering around the corner, he froze when found you pinned up against the wall in an empty hallway, with this fucker's tongue down your throat and his hand down your pants, panting and moaning into the kiss. He was suddenly struck by a strong urge to grab that dickhead and throw him out a helicopter at full speed and show you that he could give you something much better than whatever this was. He clenched his fists, thinking to himself that if he had you against the wall like this, he'd make sure you couldn't stay quiet. He'd have you crying out his name, shaking and quivering, gushing all over his fingers. That pipsqueak had nothing on him.

He considered stepping in and interrupting you, some dark voice in his mind telling him to take over, but he settled on simply slipping away quietly, not being able to stop the images in his head of pinning you against the wall, or against his bed and taking you the way you deserved to be taken.

He never told you about how he saw you with that dipshit, or how it made him jealous, or how he's fantasized about you since even before that. But once he'd simmered on it for too long and he got the chance to talk to you, he told you enough for you to know that he wanted you, that he'd wanted you for a while now, and that if you gave him the go, he'd take you then and there.

Safe to say, you gave it to him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?):

He does have a good amount of experience from when he was younger, but he hasn't really engaged in it in a good while. He has men and women offer themselves up to him at regular intervals, he just 1. never trusts a stranger enough to put himself in a vulnerable position like that and 2. isn't really into one-night-stands, even if it were with a close friend. Before you, he took it upon himself to find relief if he ever felt the need to. Now that he has you, he doesn't need anything else.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying):

He greatly enjoys holding you down in a mating press, caging you in and leaning in close to your face to kiss you or to growl something into your ears. But as mentioned before, he's a bit weaker to your eyes than he'd like to admit, so more often than not, he takes you from behind in some way, like if you're standing or you're on your knees and he keeps you upright by grabbing your arms and pulling you back into him. He prefers pressing his entire body into you though, deep and close, giving you that sense of not being able to escape him. Doesn't let you close your legs, doesn't let you shy away, doesn't let you touch yourself.

If you want to take control, and happen to get the chance, take it. As hardheaded as he is and dominant as he might seem, he molds himself by your hands like the softest clay you could ever imagine, and he wants you to use him even if he's "in charge". If you wrap your hand around his throat, it puts him almost in a daze; you can see his pupils dilate as you straddle him and grind him into you, you can hear a soft rumble in his chest as you pull his head back by his hair and trail kisses and bites along his neck. If you tell him to keep his hands off or you tie them to the headboard or behind his back, you'll see his muscles tense as he struggles against his restraints, be they physical or just in his mind.

He's also a surprisingly big fan of 69 - he likes the combination of the taste and heat of you on his face and your moans on his dick.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.):

He's no stranger to getting a chuckle out of you; you'll tease each other every now and then and he might huff out a breath in amusement at some point or other, but for the most part he's very serious. He's focused on you, how you feel, how you sound and regardless of if this is a session to rid tension and frustration, or if it's a warmer, more tender round, he doesn't want to waste any energy on anything other than fucking you.

He might chuckle when he sees your eyes roll back or when you can't quite form coherent words, and he'll grin when he fucks the living daylight out of you after you've laughed just a little too hard at him for any reason. Some sort of semi-sadistic humour is ever-present, but you'll never hear him laugh outright, and you'll be too far out of it to focus on anything anyway.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.):

He's not a very hairy man, but the hair that he has is mainly light and surprisingly soft, fairly thick and curly-ish. He might give it a trim every now and then for the sake of comfort, usually before heading out for deployment, but other than that he doesn't give it too much thought. He couldn't really care less about the presence or lack of body hair, be it on himself or on you. If you were to ask him nicely to trim it down because maybe you don't like the way it feels, then sure. But if you were to find it yucky for any reason, he'd tell you to grow up. There's nothing to be grossed out about - he's very clean.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect):

He might not seem like it, and he surely doesn't say anything about it, but he greatly cherishes the moments where he gets to lay down with you and relax. There's no need to say anything, no need to do anything; you can just lay in his arms and listen to his steady heartbeat. As rough as he can be, he genuinely loves cupping your face in his hands and kissing you deeply. He's not very vocal about his emotions, but he makes sure to show them to you in your most private moments.

He wants to hold you when he gets the chance to and having you lay on top of him helps ground him. He once told you that he enjoys the weight of you on him and you offered to get him a weighted blanket, but the only weighted blanket he wants is you (also he doesn't want one with him to base or to missions - it sends him into a far too deep of a sleep than what might be safe in a time where he needs to be ready spring to action at any moment).

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

He has convinced himself that he doesn't need to. Not that he doesn't get the urge to, because when time away from you has dragged on, he gets... restless. He's usually way more irritable in the last week or so on a mission, and the ever so observant Soap might joke that the lieutenant needs to "blow off some steam" before he blows off one of their heads - "if you need to sneak off for a minute or so, I won't tell the captain." ("Fuckin' shut up, Johnny.")

It's like he's come to the conclusion that he can hold out. He usually doesn't jack off on missions anyway, but it's gotten a bit more challenging now that he knows that you're waiting for him back home. He kind of scolds himself, tells himself that it was never a problem before, so why would it be a problem now? But he remembers you, he thinks of you and he misses you and so it adds a variable that wasn't there before. He tries to keep his thoughts at bay, but the longer he's away from you, the more salacious the thoughts become. He might get off once while back at base and in the privacy of his own room, depending on how much longer the mission is going to last, but if it's just a week or so left, he'll hold off and his teammates will just have to deal with his bad mood. Just be prepared for when he gets back to you, because he will definitely not use his own hand now that he has you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):

He's not a fullblown sadist, but he does have a little vein of it running through him. Tying you down, blindfolding you and just generally forcing you to be at the mercy of him scratches some sort of itch in him. He's not doing it as a form of punishment though, and it's not meant to be just for his own pleasure; it's more like he needs to prove something to you almost. It's like he wants to give you everything he thinks you deserve, even if it's more than you can handle. If you listen closely (if you even have the ability to still hear him), you might hear him whispering for you to keep going, to keep cumming, to give him more. You will need to establish some safewords with him right out of the gate, because he overstimulates you like it's his only purpose in life.

Because of the great satisfaction he gets from feeling your weight on top of him though, having you ride him in pretty much anyway you can is greatly appreciated. Sitting on his face, on his dick, on his thigh - just any way that he can have you draped over him is top notch. He might actually have more of a masochistic side to him, because he likes it when you scratch him and pull his hair, and he loves feeling like he's practically drowning in you. Overstimulating him might not be an incredibly regular occurrence, but if you get the chance to, do it, and do it well.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

Bed. He'll have you anywhere within the confines of your home if that's what you want, but he prefers the bed. That's where he can completely unravel you and it's where he feels it's safest. That's not to say he hasn't fucked you in the shower or on the dinner table, or that you haven't had your moments where you've barely made it in through the front door. You rile him up easily; almost too easily. If you were to undress right out on the street, he'd probably fuck you right there.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

For anyone who doesn't know him, it's easy to think that he just never experiences emotions. The deadpan stare, the monotone voice, the way that he just seems generally disinterested in pretty much everything. But you know better. The way he tilts his head towards you, the way he discreetly takes a deep breath when you say or do something suggestive, the way his eyes follow your every move with a hooded gaze, or the way he reaches out to you but waits for you to close the last bit of distance between you. You know it well.

As established before, he has a weak spot for your eyes; when you look at him and tell him what you want or just that you love him, he feels something in him melt. Fluttering touches over his shoulders or chest, nuzzling your body in close to his and wrapping your arms around him are all ways to warm up that supposedly "cold" heart of his.

Keep in mind though, he's a man of action. If you tease him, make sure you're ready to face the consequences - especially if you're in an environment where he can't just have you right away.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):

As rough as he might be, whether he has a sadistic hint to him or not, he would never want to do anything that would leave scars on you. Bruises, hickeys, scratches, sure. But never anything that would actually leave any sort of permanent mark. Also doesn't want to cause you any actual physical pain; he can overwhelm you, he can leave you feeling sore, he can make you feel like you've been run through a cycle in the washing machine, but he'll never hurt you.

If you tell him that something doesn't feel good or hurts or that there's something that you just don't like, rest assured he'll back off in an instant.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

Sit. On. His. Face. Fucking sit on it and do it now. He will give you no chance to escape his grip or tongue, and he will keep you there until you're just shy of passing out. He loves rendering you nothing but a quivering mess, but he also finds it strangely grounding - the weight of you, your taste, your heat; it's like it heals something in him. He'll tell you to get on him whenever he's in a bad mood or stressed out, and you can never quite predict how long he'll go on for, but you often get to see a part of him that you think no one else has ever seen. He practically suffocates himself in you and you'd be more worried if you weren't so lost in your own pleasure. It's almost something masochistic in him that has him drive himself towards blacking out, because if you can manage to look at him the few times that he actually breaks away to breathe, you'll see his eyes roll and his eyelids flutter. He'll take a huge gulp of air and slur out something about how he wants, no, needs more before he dives back in with a rough moan. Doesn't let you pull away when you cum, because he wants you to cum right down his throat.

When you suck him off, he leans back and watches you, breathing deeply and heavily, and lets you take as much of him as you can in whatever pace you can. If you're struggling, he'll tell you that you're doing good and that he's proud of however much you can fit in your mouth. If you're not struggling at all, he'll chuckle and maybe call you a "dirty little one", but he loves it. As mentioned before, he wants to see you either swallow his cum down, or spit it back out on his cock to keep going, but he also loves shoving his tongue into your mouth, letting any residue of him left dribble out onto your chin.

He might not go for 69 every time, but he takes great enjoyment in knowing that you're trying your hardest not to stop sucking him off even if you're losing your mind at the whim of his tongue. Crosses off multiple things on his list, and so when you do indulge in it, he makes sure neither of you are rushing it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):

He goes at very steady pace; it's not slow, but it's not fast either. He can speed up to drive you to the edge faster or slow down to draw it out, but no matter what the pace is, you can bet that it'll be deep and heavy. Somehow, it never gets predictable. You joked with him that not only is Simon 'Ghost' Riley an expert at sneaking up on enemies on the battlefield, but also at making you cum when you least expect it. It got a little chuckle out of him (and about four orgasms out of you), but it's true. You don't know how he does it, but somehow he brings you to climax even when you don't feel like you're that close to it. It's like he knows exactly where all your little buttons are - even the ones you didn't even know you had.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):

He's disciplined and he's headstrong, but he doesn't have the patience or fortitude for quickies - once he's started, he'll be going for a good fucking while. Besides, you need a proper warmup before you can actually take him - he's far too thick otherwise. If you're feeling impatient and like you really can't wait, he'll give you his fingers, but just know that it is taking every single microscopic little grain of him to not just rip your clothes off and fuck you good.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):

He won't do anything outright sexual in public - at least not that anyone sees or notices. He'll whisper into your ear and sneak a few touches here and there, he'll give you a heated gaze that is gone as quickly as it appeared, and for a while you'll think you're going insane; it's like he's using his tactics against you, to tease you.

Other than that, he wants to keep that stuff inside the safety of your own home for the most part. As far as experimenting goes, he'll give most things a whirl if you really want him to, as long as it's within some realm of reality.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?):

He will practically never be the first to tap out, just so you know. While he might not be able to cum time and time again, he makes sure that when he does cum, he makes it count. You could swear that you've had like 5 rounds back to back, but honestly, it's usually 1-2 rounds that just feel like they last an eternity because he uses practically all of him to make you cum as many times as he can.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):

Not for him, no. As for you though? More tools to make you cum, pretty much.

He doesn't think he needs them, and he doesn't actually care all that much for them; but every now and then, when he's feeling like a little shit, or he thinks you've had it coming, he'll have you close to passing out if given the chance.

He's not threatened by them. He knows that he can make you feel so much better than whatever toys you have. You're free to use them as much as you want when he's away, but if you use them while he's there, he'll either take over to "show you how it's done", or he'll take a seat and tell you to give him a good show.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

It's probably safe to say that Simon is not a very fair man. He'll drive you up the wall when he feels like it, acting like everything is right as rain while you feel like he's already fucked you just from looking at you.

He'll deliberately slow down or pause when he can tell that you're close and grin lazily at you when you complain, he'll whisper the absolute filthiest things to you while passing by before moving on like nothing happened, he'll sneak up on you just to snatch you up and kiss the breath out of you before he just walks away.

So if you can, give him a taste of his own medicine, will you? He deserves it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

Very quiet other than maybe a few sighs, grunts and whispers. Every now and then you might get a moan out of him, but he tends to hold them back. Not because he's ashamed or anything, but because he'd much rather hear you. He'll whisper endless praise and dirty nothings to you, but that's the most you'll get out of him, sound-wise.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):

This was actually insane, and very unlike him. Well, having you up against the wall and hanging in his arms by the crook of your knees wasn't entirely unlike him - but fucking you in someone else's bathroom definitely was. You had been invited to a little dinner party over at Mactavish's place, and the whole team and some of their older colleagues were there. You were having a good time, and you were sure that Simon was, too, but at one point during the evening, he told you he needed your help with something. You were none the wiser to his plans - he had some stitches on the back of his shoulder and you thought that maybe he just needed you to check on them.

He took you into the bathroom, closed and locked the door and before you could get a word out, he turned to you, unbuckled your belt and pressed you up against the wall as he shoved his hand down your underwear. He covered your mouth with his own, making sure to keep any suspicious sounds confined to this room.

You completely lost your sense of time, but at some point, after fingering you into oblivion, he'd tugged your pants halfway down your legs, hoisted you up and there you were; trying your absolute hardest to stay quiet while you hung helplessly in his arms as he fucked you without even a moment's pause. He didn't say a word, didn't utter the slightest sound, he just stared intently at you and rammed into you with a determination that you'd never seen in any other man before. You didn't know how you were going to explain the weakness in your legs and the sweat and flush of your face once the two of you went back out to the party, but at the moment, you were far from capable of forming any sort of coherent thought anyways, so you'd just give that job to Simon once he was done.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):

Sits somewhere between 6-6.5 inches, and he's quite a bit thicker than most others that would have the same length. As mentioned before, you need a proper and thorough warmup before you can take him and he's generous with it, so even though you always feel the stretch when he pushes into you, it's never a painful one. It just leaves you speechless, that's all.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

While he always wants you near, it's not always sexual. He needs the calm and domestic moments just as much as he needs the more intimate and sexual ones. That doesn't mean it doesn't happen often though; it might not be an "every single day"-thing, but it's not far from it. He's clear to let you know when he wants you, but he likes it more when you initiate.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

He actually stays awake for a good while after that, taking the time to simply listen to you breathe and feel your heartbeat against his chest. He usually doesn't like complete and utter silence because his ears are most likely ringing from chronic tinnitus, but the sounds of your sleep are just enough to keep him distracted from it. He also takes this time to commit everything about you to memory (as if he hasn't already). He oh so carefully caresses your cheek, strokes your hair and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, but you never notice, and he'll never tell you. Once he's satisfied and once he's finally convinced himself that you're not going anywhere, he'll finally settle and close his eyes to sleep.

[im-his-druidess]

I SAW THAT YOU WRITE FOR MY BABIES THOMAS AND RZ MIKEY 🥹

So if you take requests and if it's not too much (please ignore if it is I'm dumb as fuck)

Could you do Bo, Michael, and Thomas's reactions to their s/o absolutely begging them to fuck them? (I'm such a dog I know 😓) BUT IM CRAVING IT SO BAD

bonus point if they are rough 👀

Anyways thank you! <33

I'm so horny for these guys. I have no shame when it comes to them 😩

Bo Sinclair

Would absolutely LOVE it. Would give him such an ego boost. Loves to hear you beg for him and wants you to do it as often as possible. The more filthy you beg, the more desperate you sound, the more likely he is to actually relent and fuck you. Sometimes he will refuse just to get you even more riled up. But once he has committed to having sex, he will most likely tie you up and force you to keep begging even while he is fucking you. Won't stop until you are a drooling incoherent mess.

Michael Myers

He would be a little taken aback by your vigor, but would find you mostly curious. Would see how far he could push you, standing silent and still while you rub against him like a cat in heat, and would want to investigate why you are acting like this. He will eventually begin to find your reactions fascinating. But he would greatly enjoy taking you whenever he feels like it the second you bat your eyelashes at him and he would like hearing how much you want him. Would also fuck you until you can barely walk let alone speak. He only knows how to fuck you hard and brutal and won't stop until he's tired.

Thomas Hewitt

Is mortified and turned on all at once. He finds its almost impossible to resist you and when you start begging all pretty and earnest he nearly rips his pants with how fast he tries to pull them down. Will immediately throw you over his shoulder and find the nearest quiet spot for some privacy. Some days he might brush you aside if he has a lot of work to do, but will stop occasionally to paw at you to hold you over until he can fuck you properly.

[mint-yooxgi]

Fight or Flight - Yandere!Redcap!Mingi X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Fae!AU & Yandere!AU - Part of the CoDN Thrill of the Hunt Collab

Genre: Fantasy, Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Mingi X Reader

Words: 7,327

Rating: Mature - 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Please read the warnings carefully, as this is a very heavy story dealing with many dark topics. This is also all of the warnings for this fic as it is one long one shot that I had to split into multiple parts, and I'm too tired right now to individually categorize all of these warnings to their respective parts. 8 ft tall Mingi. Slow burn. Violence: depiction of a massacre, a deer being slaughtered, as well as physical, verbal, sexual, and emotional, both alluded to and not. Blood and gore. Abuse: physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual, both alluded to and implied. Assault: physical, and sexual, both alluded to, implied, and attempted. OC has a really rough past, really this isn't for the faint of heart. Whipping, both alluded to, and done. Mentions of branding. Heavy themes of possession and ownership. Deception. Arson. Really, there's a lot of dark subject matter. Mingi falls hard and fast, thus, he simps a lot for the OC, but it's not a story written by me if Mingi doesn't simp for the OC. The reader is mentioned to be both tall and chubby, but it is not mentioned often, so it shouldn't disrupt the flow of the story when ready if you are not tall and/or chubby. I think that's everything, but if I missed something, please let me know! Smut: Biting/marking, outdoor sex, fingering (fem. rec), oral (fem. rec), hand job (male rec), come eating, overstimulation, Mingi has a dig bick, sex in a spring, really, it's very soft in comparison to the subject matter. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

P.S. If there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please ignore them. I did my best through many rounds of editing, but some are liable to still slip through.

A/n: I am SO sorry this took me LITERALLY forever to complete. I meant to have this out so much earlier, and actually posted on time, but it turned out much, much longer than I ever anticipated it being. I'm really proud of how this story turned out, and I didn't want to split it into multiple parts because I felt it would take away from the story as a whole. I'm super excited for you all to read this one, as I had a tremendous amount of fun writing it, and I really hope you all love Mingi's and OC's journey as much as I do. Huge shoutout and thanks to @anyamaris and @kwanisms for listening to me ramble and rave about this story both before and during the writing process, and for always encouraging me while writing! Also, huge thank you to @sanjoongie for being so patient and understanding with me as I write this all out in full. I hope you all enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: Out of one horrible situation and into another, the cycle of abuse never stops. You've lived with monsters your whole life. So, what's one more?

P.P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!

Mini Masterlist

An annoyed sigh leaves his lips at the incessant chatter he hears around him. Low whispers rise in volume until the dull buzz of voices consumes him, interrupting his post meal relaxation. Irritation mars his features, his brow tugging downwards as he pulls the broken sliver of bone he had been using to pick at his teeth with out of his mouth.

“What is with your incessant whining?” 

All Mingi had wanted to do was relax after dinner. In peace, within the confines of his makeshift encampment at the heart of his battalion, but it seems there’s been a commotion at the far edge.

“Humans, General.” One of his underlings, a vice-captain under his command, Darius, hisses. “They say they want to make a deal.”

Mingi scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Not too bright, are they?”

“When have humans ever been known to be smart?” Darius snickers.

Mingi heaves a long sigh, standing to his feet. “Given the length of this interaction, I can’t trust any of you to be competent enough to end this quickly.”

“They’re persistent, General.” He replies, flinching back as Mingi turns his sharp-eyed gaze to him.

“You let them think their words had any merit of importance to us.” The redcap general snaps. “No wonder they’re being so uncooperative.”

Striding through the encampment, the whispers finally come to a halt. A dead silence surrounds his soldiers as Mingi strolls through their ranks, eyes zeroing in on the small gathering of frail humans. Darius rushes along behind the proud general, whom stands a good eight feet tall. The tallest amongst his redcap companions.

A red sash is tied around Mingi’s bicep, alerting all to his rank within the gathered redcaps. There is a clear air of respect the others hold for him as he walks passed, holding his head high, no falter in his steps. Some even go so far as to look upon him in awe while others incline their head out of respect.

Reaching the edges of his encampment, Mingi scowls. “What’s the big idea here?”

“Ah, General!” Lias turns to him, a malicious grin tugging at the younger captain’s lips. “These humans insist on making a trade with us.”

“How did they even find us in the first place?” Mingi darts his gaze over to the three standing before him, just over the threshold of their protection line.

A woman seems to be holding another in her arms. The one with her head down doesn’t say much, but the one holding her trembles as she meets Mingi’s gaze. The male, slightly taller than the woman being held, stands a little straighter.

“We know mushroom rings will bring us where we want to be, or rather, to whom.” He replies, almost defiantly. “You just so happened to be the closest in the area.”

“Why are you wasting our time?” Mingi growls, teeth bared over much too sharp fangs.

“Please,” the woman holding the other in her arms seems desperate as she attempts to take a step forward.

That’s when he notices: the tall women is unconscious, being held up by the other. He quirks a brow, unaware a frail human such as the small one could ever be so strong.

“We just want to make a deal.” The man states, rather firmly.

Mingi’s gaze darts between the two humans.

“They want us to take their daughter for them.” Lias snorts, Darius laughing along with him. “As if we would care for such a useless mortal.”

“We know a little about your kind.” The woman continues. “Please, we know she’ll be better off here. We don’t want anything in return, just her safety.”

“She can earn her place.” The male adds. “She can look after herself, just please, take her with you.”

“We’re not about to gain something you don’t want.” Mingi retorts harshly, crossing his arms over his chest. “She has no use to us.”

“That’s not it at all.” The male is quick to shake his head, attempting to take a step towards the gathered redcaps only to be greeted by snarls and snapping fangs. He freezes. “Please-“

“We don’t need one of your kind slowing us down.” Mingi states, narrowing his eyes at the way the unconscious woman sways slightly. Honestly, he’s surprised this woman hasn’t fallen over yet, or caused the other holding her up to collapse under her seemingly dead weight.

“She won’t slow you down!” The woman is quick to protest.

“Watch your tongue, mortal.” Darius snaps. “This is no ordinary general you’re speaking to.”

The woman bows her head, cowering back and holding the other tighter to her chest. Though, due to the height difference, it looks quite awkward. A fact only echoed by the snickers Mingi can hear echo out behind him.

“Oh, come on,” Lias tilts his head slightly, a mischievous gleam in his gaze. “This could be fun. We could always use another pack mule.”

Some more snickers are heard from around the area, along with the snapping of jaws in agreement. The harsh clicking of fangs only rises in sound, and Mingi can smell the spikes of fear from the two conscious humans. A taste he absolutely revels in.

“The human would be safe with us from whatever outside forces you’re referring to.” Lias continues, his lips stretching widely over all too sharp teeth.

Mingi spares a glance around at his men, noting their sudden change in attitude. The eager gleams he sees throughout the crowd have him heaving a sigh.

“Very well,” he turns, beginning to walk away from this whole matter. He’ll let his men have their fun, and with any luck, the human will be dead come morning. “She’s your responsibility, though. If she survives.”

A cheer rises up through the surrounding redcaps as the tall women gets torn from the other’s arms and dragged across the protection barrier. Mingi thinks nothing of the way a faint smell of blood rises on the air, knowing his men are probably already having their fun after bringing the human properly into their realm. The other two have already been sent back, their memories altered forever. If they even remember having a daughter at all would be a miracle.

Entering his own private tent, Mingi settles into his favourite chair. Kicking his feet up onto a little stump, he leans back, relaxing into the evening chill that begins to settle over the land. They’ve still got a long ways to go to return to their keep, the scouting mission having taken a lot out of them. The rogue redcaps they had been hunting have all been dealt with. Traitors, every last one of them. The fight they had put up was gruesome, but as always, Mingi and his men came out on top. 

Despite it all, some of his men still have energy to burn as he hears the familiar hooting and hollering of his subordinates last long into the night.

***

The next day, Mingi wakes to the encampment practically all cleaned up. Some of his men are finishing last minute preparations for travel, their bags packed and stored for easier maneuvering. All that’s left is to secure his own lodgings for the next leg of their journey.

“The human finally woke up.” Darius informs Mingi as he steps to the head of the line.

“She’s not dead?” Mingi quirks a brow, barely bothering to scan the gathered ranks to see if he can spot the women he saw last night.

“We figured we could use her for some entertainment-“ at Mingi’s sharp glare, Darius stops himself. “She’s surprisingly stronger than she looks. We’ve loaded her with a few packs and told her to carry them for us, or else she won’t like the outcome.” The vice-captain shrugs. “She complied.”

Mingi hums to himself, turning towards the direction they’ll be setting off in in a few minutes. He finds it odd for a human to be so complacent. All of the stories he’s heard contradict such simplistic actions. He was expecting screaming, and an attempt to run the first moment she regained consciousness. 

Even more shocking is the fact that you’re still alive.

“Don’t let it go on too long,” Mingi shoots him a look out of the corner of his eyes. “Have your fun, but make sure she doesn’t slow me down.”

“Of course, General.” Darius nods, saluting him before running off to finish some last minute things.

Quietly, Mingi observes his battalion. He can see Lias barking orders at some subordinates to finish packing the rest of the camp quickly. Others appear to be scrambling about, and true to Darius’ word, Mingi spots that same tall woman from last night standing off to the side.

There’s nothing special about you. At least, from what Mingi can tell. You stand upright, spine straight with three packs carried on your figure. Their bulk simply adds to your own, nearly drowning you in their sheer size. Your face looks worn, and tired, but you move around where they instruct you to without complaint. 

Mingi just hopes you can keep up with them.

A few minutes later, the redcaps are on the move. Multiple shoot you looks of disgust as they run passed, growling lowly in your direction. Some even go to far as to purposely run into you, spitting on you as they knock you over in your attempts to keep pace with the company. 

It isn’t more than an hour into the morning when you start to fall behind.

Mingi heaves out a sigh, smelling the faintest bit of blood again in the air. A scent not uncommon in a group of redcaps, given their premise. Though, what truly annoys him is the subtle limp you attempt to hide as he marches over to you at the very rear of his guard.

Again, his men part for him silently. The simple power he exudes enough to silence even the rowdiest of the bunch.

“Are you that incompetent that you do not know how to walk properly, mortal?” He sneers, irritation clear on his features.

“I can walk just fine.” You reply bluntly.

“Then, keep up.” He snaps, turning so as not to waste another word on you for the moment.

With Mingi’s back to you, he fails to notice the harsh glare you send his way, but his subordinates do.

A harsh slap rings out through the forest, a dull thud heard soon after.

“You dare look upon our general with such vile contempt in your eyes?” Lias’ voice booms out through the surrounding redcaps, catching Mingi’s attention.

He freezes, turning to spare a glance over his shoulder.

There you rest, face down on the ground as you attempt to push yourself up. Your clothes are even more disheveled than before, dirt smearing your cheek. Yet, that harsh look still rests upon your face, even as the smell of blood becomes more prominent in the air.

“I didn’t ask for this.” You keep your voice low, but still clear enough for everyone around you to hear.

“Well, get used to it, Sweetheart,” Lias hisses, tugging you harshly back to your feet by the back of your neck. “You’re no better than a pet, now.”

You say nothing, instead opting to purse your lips. Your eyes narrow as you watch Lias retreat from you, hands fisted around the straps of the packs you carry as your whole body seems to tremble. 

If Mingi didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re angry.

No… not angry. Disappointed.

Turning back to face front, Mingi decides to ignore you for the rest of the day. You’re not his responsibility, and how his subordinates treat you is truly none of his concern. Really, if it were up to him, he would have sent those two other humans bargaining for you to join them here in the fae realm packing. Perhaps he should have made an example of you all when he had the chance. Only, now, he’s stuck with you, and he’ll have to learn to deal with it, for the sake of his men. It’s not like you’re the only human he’s ever dealt with before.

Luckily, for the rest of the day, travel does not get halted again. You manage to keep up just fine, only falling behind once more near sunset. Mingi had wanted to travel for longer this day, covering more distance and hearing no complaints from neither you nor his men. 

The faster they get home, the swifter he can deal with the mess that is you.

Mingi wants nothing to do with you. All you are to him is a pathetic little human. So frail, he could break you with the flick of his wrist. His eyes narrow on your figure as he sees you collapse against the side of a tree, none of his underlings sparing you any supplies as they set up for the night.

No food is offered to you, but you manage to scrounge some water. Your throat burns, and your feet ache as if they’re ready to fall off at a moment’s notice. The stitch in your side is finally calming down, and you’re just grateful none of these fae have ordered you to help them set up camp for the night. No, they stated they didn’t want you touching anything, or doing something wrong, and for once, you’re thanking your lucky stars for such a harsh verdict.

Lightly, you rub at your leg, right where you know that fresh wound still resides. It’s not a deep cut, but twisting wrong, or moving around too much aggravates the scar. Not to mention your limp which has returned even worse than before, due to the speed at which you’re expected to move.

Despite it all, you don’t say anything. No, you learned the hard way what talking back meant. Though, that might just be your one salvation through this all. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll see how far you can push these redcaps, and discover if their nature really lives up to their legacy.

For now, you settle deeper against that tree. It’s late, and you are exhausted. Sleep is one of the best things for you now, especially since there’s no way you can return to the life you previously once had. Thinking back on it now, you don’t know if you’d ever want to.

Not that you really ever had a choice.

The next morning brings another early start, you being commanded to carry even more than yesterday on your back. The only saving grace is that it seems the speed at which the band you’re travelling with has lessoned, but that doesn’t stop your whole body from aching.

Two more days pass like this, insults thrown at you by the surrounding redcaps, only for them to take out their amusement on you by either scratching you by ‘accident’, spitting on you, or pushing you to the ground. You manage to get some food, but it’s both rotten and vile. You’re honestly surprised your body hasn’t given up on you, yet.

You start to complain, but to your relief, or rather, disappointment, no one bothers to take your whining seriously. That, or they’re quick to shut you up, but not in the way you so desperately hope.

It’s around midday when you feel yourself lose your footing. The sun is shining brightly in the sky above your head, a few clouds drifting lazily by as you tumble harshly to the ground. The worst part is, you end up landing badly on your injured side. Unluckily for you, both that scar and your bad ankle are on your right leg which just so happens to land awkwardly on top of the root you tripped over.

You attempt to keep them at bay, but the sudden sharp pain you feel shoot up your leg sends tears to your eyes. You can practically feel your cut tear itself anew, a dampness seeping into the material of your tattered pants. Your breathing is heavy, and you can hardly force yourself back onto your hands, your entire body groaning in protest. Every ache pulses through you with each heartbeat, and in the back of your mind, you wonder if this is truly the end.

“What’s the hold up this time?” You hear a stern voice huff out above your head.

Mustering enough energy, you tilt your head upwards at the approaching figure. There’s a brief moment where the sun blinds you, filtering through the branches in such a way that burns your vision with a bright light until a shadow looms over you. Blinking reveals the redcap’s general standing before you, a look of pure ire marring his features as he glares down at you.

“Get up.” He growls, not even bothering to nudge you with his foot. You’re too far beneath him to bother.

A sad attempt is made by you once more before you’re collapsing on top of your weakened arms.

“I. Can’t.” You manage to get out through gritted teeth, squeezing your eyes shut through the pain.

Mingi snorts. “Pathetic.”

With a roll of his eyes, he storms away from you, barking out orders to set up the encampment. From what you can hear, he plans to move out during the night.

They need to stop to eat, anyways.

Insults are hurled your way by various underlings, some even going so far as to step on you as they walk passed. It’s as if you are worth no more than the dirt beneath their feet as you continue to lay there, weak and injured, just waiting and begging for death to finally claim you.

“You’ve really been a thorn in the general’s side ever since you joined us.” A voice to your left catches your attention.

“I didn’t ask to become a slave.” You retort is half grumbled into the earth, brow furrowing as you glare in the voice’s direction.

A chuckle is heard from above you. “Last I checked, you weren’t actually bound to this group.”

Out of the corner of your vision, you see a male, or rather, what appears to be a male, crouch beside you. He appears a bit shorter than his companions, perhaps even an inch or two shorter than you, and that’s saying something.

“My name’s Windfel,” he says lightly. “I’ve never met a human before. What’s your name?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you huff, finally managing to push yourself upwards and shrug those packs off of your back.

A hiss escapes you as you accidentally apply to much pressure to your right side, hand grasping over where that reopened cut resides. The dull throbbing you can feel, mixed in with the sight of days old blood and dirt only has you wincing. The wound is more than likely infected, and probably has been for the past few days. Only, you don’t have anything to treat it with, and it’s not like you can go around asking for help.

“Oh, you’re more clever than we give you credit for.” He grins. “You must know that telling a fae your true name means they have complete power over you.”

“You’re the ones who assumed me incompetent in the first place.” Your retort is low, and almost immediately, you flinch, as if bracing yourself for an impact of some sorts.

Again, he only chuckles. “That we did.”

“Is there something you want, Windfel?” The question is a bit harsh, despite you avoiding his gaze.

“Not in particular at the moment,” he hums. “I’m simply satisfying a mere curiosity. I’ve read a lot about you humans, thanks to the experiments in the Latha Court.”

“You experiment on humans?” Your eyes widen, a surge of panic washing through you.

“Yes.” He replies, somewhat cheerfully with a nod of his head. “We learn a lot about your kind that way.”

“You’re despicable.” A shudder caresses your spine.

“So I’ve been told.” He grins. “I am a redcap, you know.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice him tip a flat cap stained dark red in your direction.

“I’m aware.” Your answer is blunt as you attempt to stand to your feet. You don’t get very far, for you immediately fall back onto your ass as your arms give out beneath you.

A small ‘oof’ escapes you as you land on your right side, eyes squeezing shut as more tears spring up from beneath where you’ve always tried to hide them.

“You’re not looking so good,” he observes.

“Thanks for noticing.” A low grumble is all he receives in response as you attempt to push yourself upwards once more.

Another chuckle. “I like your sense of humour.”

A side-eyed look is sent his way curtesy of you, “If you want to call it that.”

“Come on, I’ll help you.” He goes to lift you to your feet.

Immediately, you cower away from him, a brief panic filling your gaze as you fixate on his hands.

“I have no intentions of harming you right now.” He replies, somewhat calmly.

“Why are you trying to help me?” You eye him cautiously.

He shrugs. “I’m bored.”

As much as you don’t appreciate his answer, you have no better options. Somewhat reluctantly, you allow him to help you to your feet, guiding you to a tent already prepped and ready. He lifts the flap, allowing you to stumble your way inside and sitting in a chair as per his instruction.

The tent is large enough to fit three people comfortable, appearing more spacious on the inside than from the outside. You suppose it has to do with the magic of the fae, considering they’re able to store everything and carry it so efficiently in such packs, no larger than what you’re used to calling knapsacks.

“You know, you really have caused a great deal of annoyance for our general since your arrival.” He says as he grabs a roll of white medical cloth from a little side table.

“I never asked for this.” You mumble, keeping your head down.

“I’m aware you were brought unconscious into our ranks.” Windfel replies. “Is there a reason for that?”

“Not that I’m obliged to tell you.” Your eyes narrow suspiciously, watching every movement he makes closely.

You highly doubt anyone will come to your aid if you decide to scream for help.

“Just making conversation,” he responds, lifting his hands lightly in front of himself in a shrug. “I’m not a healer, so all I’m willing to do is let you wrap that wound. If you’re lucky, you won’t have to dress it when we get back to the keep.”

You purse your lips, eyeing Windfel as he places the roll of cloth beside you. A moment later, and he’s moving around the tent, rummaging through his own pack and pulling out a fresh pair of clothes.

“What, exactly, is this ‘keep’ you all continuously talk about?” You ask, somewhat warily.

He completely ignores your question, tossing the spare clothes at you.

“I don’t use these anymore, and although we typically enjoy the smell of blood, we don’t enjoy when wounds fester.” His nose crinkles along with his words. “There’s a small stream about a quarter of a mile to the northeast. I’ll take you there once you’re ready.”

“You’re being awful nice to me for someone who doesn’t like my kind,” You observe, eyeing him carefully.

“I care about my general, and anything I can do to… lesson his burdens, I will.” Comes Windfel’s simple reply. “When you’re ready, I’ll be outside.”

You watch him step out the opposite flap of the tent he entered, brow furrowing as the material slaps shut. Shouts can be heard outside, along with the hustle and bustle of the rest of the encampment being set up. You bet the rest wouldn’t have even notice you moved from that tree, yet.

Tilting your head downwards, you look at the clothes in your hand, feeling the fabric between your fingers. It’s been far too long since you’ve gotten any type of new clothing. Back in the human realm, the only time you got a new piece of clothing was when- no. You shouldn’t be thinking about that right now.

Swallowing thickly, you look over at that roll of white medical cloth. As much as you don’t trust this redcap, this is the first ounce of kindness you’ve received in quite a long time. There’s a part of you screaming at yourself not to believe it, but there’s another part, a part much more vulnerable that clings onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, things are starting to look up for you.

Your life has never been worth much, but perhaps someone is actually starting to see value in you that has never been there before. Then again, you probably shouldn’t get your hopes up. They’ve fallen too many times for you to count.

Taking a deep breath in, you grab that roll of medical cloth. Carefully, you wrap it in the bundle of clothes from Windfel, and stand back to your feet. Though you wobble slightly, you’re able to steady yourself, and within a minute, you’re exiting through the same flap that redcap did only moments before.

A single nod is all you give him as you stand outside the tent. A single nod of which he returns, motioning for you to follow him deep into the woods.

***

The journey to the stream is slow, taking well over an hour to get there. The distance is much greater than you were expecting, and the path isn’t easy at all. As much as Windfel seems to be ‘helping’ you, he did not once offer you a hand through the rough terrain of the woods through your travels.

“Will there be enough time?” You ask, eyeing the trickling water at the edge of the bank.

“Relax,” Windfel huffs out lightly. “Knowing the general, he’ll probably spend at least another two hours resting. So, as long as you don’t take too long, we’ll be fine.”

You purse your lips in response, but say nothing.

“I have no interest in watching you bathe, either, human.” He says, turning so his back is to you. “So, you needn’t worry about that.”

“I’ve never had much privacy, anyways.” You grumble, but as soon as the words leave your lips, your eyes widen. Terrified, you glance at Windfel’s back.

Choosing to either ignore your statement, or you entirely, he stands there, unmoving, His back is straight as he gazes out into the woods in the direction you both came, paying no mind to even the sound of water trickling behind you.

You turn back around.

Darting your gaze to the stream once more, you notice how clear the water seems to be. The movement against the stones appears languid, a gentle breeze flitting through the trees in the next moment. It’s almost as if the stream is inviting you in, luring you into it’s pristine waters, and the longer you stare at its enchanting depths, the more you long to dip your feet into its calming waters.

“What’s the catch?” You grit your teeth, cursing yourself for being so stupid.

“You humans always think there’s some sort of trick to everything, don’t you?” Windfel chuckles, and suddenly, you feel his hot breath on your neck. You didn’t even hear him move. “I could push you in, if you like, but I don’t think that would bode well for your wound.”

Your spine straightens. “I can get in myself, thank you very much.”

“You are most welcome.” The way you can practically feel him smile against your back has a shiver running down your spine.

A moment later, his presence at your back lessens, and you find yourself able to breathe easier once more. You spare a glance over your shoulder to see him resting in that same spot as before, his back turned as he begins to hum a small tune to himself. Eyeing him cautiously for a few moments, you finally turn back around to face the stream, deciding that he won’t actually do anything to you. Besides, even you are starting to not be able to handle your own stench, and that’s saying something.

Slowly, carefully, you begin stripping yourself of your old clothes. The tattered shirt you wear gets tossed onto the ground beside the new one, your pants following shortly after. You have enough mind to leave your undergarments on, just in case Windfel decides to play a trick of some sort on you, or run away with both sets of clothes. You still need something to wear, and Windfel is still a man.

Men are never good at keeping their promises. You learned that the hard way.

Stepping towards the very edge of the stream, you take your time sitting down. Each movement is stiff, pain shooting through your right side as you finally get a good look at the cut on your upper leg. 

The wound festers, dried pus caked on the edge. The cut itself is swollen, days old blood littering the skin around it. From how bad it looks, you’re scared to even touch it, but a creeping thought in the back of your mind keeps you inching towards the water with every passing second.

You’ve had worse.

Carefully, you dip your toes into the crystalline water. It’s a bit cool to the touch, and causes you to jerk back, surprised by its icy feel. Yet, it’s alluring in a way, as if it’s the softest of silk that has ever caressed your skin. A luxury you have never been afforded, and you take the time now to savour it, despite the chill that clings to your feet as you submerge them beneath the gentle flow of the stream.

In no time at all, you feel yourself get used to the water’s icy chill, sinking deeper and deeper until you’re fully sitting on the edge of the river bank. Being mindful of your leg, you angle yourself so you can lean towards the water, cupping your hands together in order to gather the cool liquid in your palms and clean your wound.

The first few handfuls sting, but you grit your teeth and bear it. With each handful of water, more and more of the dirt, grime, and blood is washed away, revealing the cut to have gotten longer over the past few days. All that running around must have strained it, and reopened the wound over and over again, leading to the edges widening, and the cut deepening.

No wonder your whole leg has been aching. You just hope the infection isn’t already in your blood. There’s no telling what may happen to you, then.

“Oh my, that looks bad.” 

A voice from above your head startles you, and you nearly go toppling into the stream. Looking up with a hand clutched over your chest, your eyes wide in panic, you see Windfel leaning over you, inspecting your cut.

“A few more days and you would have had to cut it off,” he remarks casually.

You physically feel your heart drop, your eyes briefly shifting to your right ankle. You swallow thickly, a jolt of pain travelling all the way from your foot upwards to your hip as tears unwillingly spring to your eyes. Almost involuntarily, you begin rapidly shaking your head, protests falling from numb lips.

“I’m just shanking ya!” He laughs, boisterously at that. He even goes so far as to pat your shoulder a few times, wiping tears of joy from the corner of his eyes.

“You’re not very funny.” You whisper, expression hard.

Windfel blinks, “Geez, tough crowd.”

You purposely avoid his gaze, looking back out over to the opposite bank of the stream. Your lips are pursed in a thin line as you slowly manage to get your breathing under control. Even you can hear the thunderous pounding of your own heartbeat, so you sure as hell know that Windfel can, too.

“I thought you weren’t going to watch me.” You mutter, slowly turning yourself further into the stream.

“No, I said I had no interest in watching you bathe.” He remarks, matter of factly. “There’s a difference.”

“If you say so,” you mutter, slipping into the water and putting a little bit of distance between you and that redcap. Not that it would really matter, in the long run.

The chill of the water causes your body to stiffen for a moment, only for the entirety of your muscles to immediately relax. The chill morphs into a gentle caress, and as you sink down to allow the water up to your neck, you find yourself letting out a small, blissful sigh through your nose. Involuntarily, your eyes slip shut.

“Feels better, doesn’t it?” Windfel hums.

Your eyes shoot open, turning to look over at the redcap who is back to standing in his original spot, facing away from you.

“I-“ you swallow, keeping your voice low. “I haven’t had a chance to bathe like this in a long time.”

“Yeah,” Windfel snorts. “I could tell.”

He makes a gesture similar to fanning the air in front of himself, and you find yourself rolling your eyes. You even go to far as to splash water in his direction before you can stop yourself.

Even though not a single drop of water touches him, your eyes still go wide. Not a muscle moves as you stare at him, your heartbeat thudding once more in your ears.

“Damn, human, you really are uptight.” Windfel snickers. “As if a little water could hurt me. It’s nice when such creatures are playful. Adorable, even.”

“I don’t think many would agree with you.” You mutter, gently pushing yourself backwards and creating just a tiny bit more distance between yourself and him.

“You’re probably right,” he hums. “Though, we all can agree on liking to be amused.”

“You confuse me.” You state blankly, rubbing at your skin lightly beneath the water and washing away any excess dirt and grime you can see.

“The feeling is very much mutual, human.” He replies. “I bet if you lived on your own as long as I have in the wild, you’d feel the same way.”

“Oh, yeah,” you hum, clearly not convinced as you dunk your head under the water briefly. “I’m sure.”

“Oh, come on! You’re telling me you’ve never lived in the woods before? Never fought for your own survival all by you little lonesome?” Windfel’s voice is slightly mocking, and you know he’s probably only trying to get a rise out of you. 

Unfortunately, though, it’s working.

“I think you and I have two very different definitions of survival.” You say, scrubbing a bit harder at your skin.

“Perhaps that is true,” he hums once more, as if considering your words. “But come on, you can’t tell me you’ve never wanted to know what it’s like to live on your own.”

“How do you know if I’ve lived on my own or not?” You retort, eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.

“I don’t.” Windfel shrugs. “From what those of us who care enough to read about your kind can gather, it’s observed that you usually go out on your own once you reach a certain age.”

“And you’re one of those that have read about my kind?” You quirk a brow. 

The longer you spend talking with Windfel, the more you seem to ease into the conversation. Though the water continues to feel nice around you, you also decide that it’s time to remove yourself from the stream so you can quickly dry off and make it back to the others. The last thing you need is for something to happen, or for you to finally face the wrath of a redcap.

At this point, that may just be a blessing.

There’s almost a slight tug at the back of your mind. With each step you take towards the bank and your awaiting clothes, a small voice tells you to stay. The water seems to be caressing your entire body, becoming denser around you with each step. It’s almost as if the stream is trying to hold you down, to force you to not leave its waters. Yet, despite it’s almost enchanted callings, you persist, managing to pull yourself out of the crystalline water and back onto the side of the bank.

The consequences of staying far outweigh the rewards in your mind.

You fail to notice how Windfel’s brow quirks in surprise, but he continues on the conversation as if nothing is wrong.

“I’ve read a few things, yes.” He confirms. “Knowledge is power, or haven’t you heard?”

“Power is power, no matter where in the world.” You grumble, flicking off as much excess water on your body as you can before beginning to wrap your upper thigh with that medical cloth. Once finished, you tie it off quickly, but not tight enough that it will hurt you even more than you already are. A moment later, you stand back to your feet.

“Spoken like a true scholar,” Windfel teases lightly, his back still turned to you.

Slowly, you begin pulling on the clothes he leant you. The pants are a little short around the ankles, but they fit surprisingly well. Considering the size difference between the both of you, you’re surprised the shirt even managed to pull over your head, but it’s loose, and you’re grateful for the soft material that graces your skin.

“Still, you should definitely try living on your own at some point.” He remarks casually. “There’s no feeling quite like freedom.”

Your whole body freezes, gaze slowly trailing over to where Windfel stands, now at the edge of the wood. He seems to be holding a bundle in his hands, and when you look down, you realize that it’s your old, raggedy clothes.

“I wouldn’t know.” You state, rather firmly as your eyes narrow at the redcap across from you.

“Oh, yes, well,” he finally turns back around to face you, a grin tugging at his lips to reveal all too sharp fangs. “About that…”

“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with.”

Your words clearly catch him off guard, for now it’s his turn for his eyes to widen in shock.

“My dear, why would I want to kill you?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’ve done nothing but be forced upon us since the start. I may be a monster, but I’m not unreasonable.”

“Like I’ve never heard that one before.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.

Again, your breath hitches as soon as the words leave your lips, and you find yourself flinching backwards away from Windfel instinctually.

He frowns, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he says, “I told you. I care about my general and how much your presence burdens him. It’s easier this way if you just disappear.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You want me to disappear, but not kill me?”

“For the most part.” He blinks, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“How do you expect me to do that?” You frown, doing whatever you can to hide the clear exasperation in your voice.

“Run away.” He states.

“Excuse me?”

“Run away.” He repeats with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I doubt they’ll even notice you’re gone.”

Now, it’s your turn to blink at him. Once. Twice. Three times in disbelief as you cannot keep your mouth from falling open in shock.

“You’re shitting me.”

“I think the whole point of you bathing was for that to no longer be the case.” He says smartly. “I told you. You’re a burden to our general, and if I can relieve that burden from his shoulders, I’ll do whatever it takes. You’re not currently being hunted, so there’s no reason to kill you right now.”

“And where will I go?” You ask, incredulously. “I have nothing-“

“Find the Latha court, I’m sure those human lovers will take you in.” He cuts you off, a slight twitch to his brow. “Go that way,” he points off to your left with a clawed finger. “There’s a small town. I’m sure someone will give you a hand.”

“Like you did?” You quirk a brow, eyeing Windfel carefully.

“Exactly.” He nods. “Now, you best be on your way, little mortal. My patience is starting to wear thin.”

Though the last part of his words he says in a cheerful voice, the way his eyes gleam in the light of the setting sun unnerves you.

Without waiting for another chance, you take the one presented to you.

“I better not see you around again.” Windfel hums, and you can hear him beginning to trudge in the opposite direction that you are. “You won’t like it if you do.”

A shiver caresses your spine at his words, and you find yourself picking up your pace. Reaching the opposite end of the little clearing where the stream is, you quickly spare a glance over your shoulder. Windfel is nowhere to be seen, and you do not know if it should relieve you, or terrify you. All you do know, is that you have to put as much distance between yourself and that gang of redcaps as you can. To start, you just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

The trek into town is a lot easier than you thought it would be. It only takes you about forty minutes to reach the outskirts, and with every step, you seem to gain better footing than before. The ache in your leg is dulling, and your head is the clearest it’s been in weeks. You don’t trip over any roots, or stumble over any rocks, either. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say things are actually starting to look up for you.

That’s when it hits you.

Is this even reality anymore?

Windfel could have cast a glamour over you. You could be under some sort of spell, or undergone some weird magic while bathing in that stream. You have no way of knowing what is true or not, unless you talk to someone. Even then, your chances of them tricking you are high, but it may be the only way to tell what is true or not.

Standing at the edge of the town, you do a quick scan of those you can see. The sun has already set, and the faint glow of lanterns casts a warmth around the surrounding buildings. There seems to be only a few people milling about, and honestly, you shouldn’t really call them people at all. From what you can gather, all these beings appear to faeries. Some have grand wings that sprout from their backs, ranging from feathered to those of the insect variety. Others, you can only discern from their height and pointed ears. The few flashes of razor sharp teeth aren’t that reassuring, either.

The only relief seems to be that all of the inhabitants steer perfectly clear of you. Save for one, who watches you fidget from across the way. His gaze dances with amusement, and you don’t know if that unnerves you more than if he were glaring. Long, dark hair is pulled back in a half-ponytail to showcase his sharp features. He sits on the edge of some steps leading up to what appears to be a shop of some sorts, his elbows resting on his thighs as he leans forward.

The moment he catches you staring, his eyebrows quirk curiously.

Turning away quickly, you curse yourself. You’ve always been used to blending in back home, that you didn’t realize just how much you’d stick out in the Fae realm. Perhaps you really are in over your head, but where else are you supposed to go?

A voice, smooth and deep, coming from behind startles you.

“Are you lost, Little One?”

[cjonesjr]

・﹒・ i hate you

Summary: It's been a while since you joined the digital circus landscape and had made friends with everyone despite the situation of never returning home. However, you could never get along with Jax, he was an asshole. He always annoyed you and pissed you off. Yet, why can't you get him out of your head?

Warnings: None

Pairing: Jax x GN!reader

Notes: Hi I'm back...ish

In the world stored on a computer that you now permanently resided in, it was hard to find a private place to just relax. Sure, it was pretty big, but get bored enough and needing a break from everyone, you're bound searching for a place to find some peace and quiet. That's what you did and you found a neat little alcove far away from the main stage in the tent and as the digital days went by, you found solace in it. It was your little hideaway from it all and for you to just be yourself. Sure, you had your bedroom, but anyone can just bother you, and not to mention- Jax has keys to everyone's rooms.

Jax. You hated that rabbit. He always went out of his way to piss everyone off and annoy them just for his entertainment. Especially you- he picked on you so much it got on your nerves, you needed space. So here you were, sitting and messing around with a bouncy ball, throwing it on the wall and catching it. He especially got on your nerves today as he thought it would be a good prank to scare you by coming up from behind and screaming "Boo!" while you were talking with Pomni.

Sighing, you caught the ball and stared at it, thinking about your new life here again. You often did here, but also made sure to not think about it too much, as you still valued your life. You don't even know how time was passing outside of here, was it a week? Two? Three months? Years? Caine does have a day and night cycle to at least keep some sense of time for you guys, but it wasn't enough to not make some go crazy.

Your mind kept drifting back to Jax though, no matter how hard you try to not think of him, he kept popping up in your mind unwillingly. You hate him, that's that, so why did he continually keep showing up in your mind? The things you kept thinking about him had slowly started to drift from hatred to having this strange...warm feeling in your chest. Your thoughts started to spiral as you realized you actually missed when he wasn't around. Why was that? He had nothing positive or say or do, yet you felt a strange sort of longing for him despite the last you saw of him was him trying to scare you. There was a draw that you had towards him, not understanding why, you dare say you almost...enjoyed his asshole self.

"Day dreaming now?" You didn't realize how much your head was in the clouds when the voice startled you, causing you to jump and swivel your head around to face the rabbit you were just thinking of. Shit. How did he find this place? How did he find you? Jax had a smug smirk on his face as he walked closer, watching you with his black eyes. Trying to act cool, you rolled your eyes and took in a huge breath, turning back around to mindlessly throw the ball. In all reality, your heart was still beating incredibly fast. Why now?

"Oh come on, the silent treatment? Really? This is where you go to hide away from everyone?" His monotone voice made you sigh, he was really insisting on pissing you off extra hard today. Taking a deep breath, you turned your head to see Jax walking and standing right next to you. You really didn't want to deal with him right now. Growling, you throw the ball at him, hitting him in the shoulder, causing him to yell out.

"Hey! That was rude ya know?” You could tell he was genuinely getting annoyed with you, which peaked your interest greatly. He was always an asshole and abrasive, sure, but rarely he actually got annoyed with anyone back.

"Oh THAT was rude? As if you don't tick me off at any given chance and this is the result of it" You scoffed and shuffled yourself so you faced the colorful wall of soft blocks, wishing he would just leave. Why didn't he leave?

"Oh please, don't even start. You talk about me all the time, don't think I don't know" You freeze, his words hitting you like a wave of ice cold water. How does he know? Sure, you rant to Ragatha and Pomni and Gangle but, they wouldn't tell him. Would they? No, they wouldn't. Taking a deep breath in, you stayed silent as you exhaled, thinking of how to respond without making a fool of yourself.

"Well, it's nothing pleasent, but you would know that since you seem to know everything. It's not my fault I can't get you out of my head" Shit. Why did you say that? Your heart started to beat faster as you watch him smile and chuckle, you're doomed.

"You think about me all the time, eh? For some reason I don't think its just about how much you hate me, am I right?" He leaned closer to your face, causing you gulp and shuffle backwards, but he kept the closeness and only followed you.

"N-no! It's just about how much I hate you, of course! Everyone hates you!" You really were trying to save this, but the wall hit your back and he closed in, placing both hands next to your head as he stared at you with his dumbass smug smirk.

"Oh really? Why are you nervous then? If you hate me so much, you would push me away right now. Go on, do it" For some reason, you just couldn't bring yourself to do that, the seconds ticked on as he waited patiently, chuckling when he realized you weren't going to storm off in a rage.

"Oh I freaking knew it. You have a crush on me! Hah! You disguise your stupid little feelings for me as hatred, oh that's hilarious" You began to grew frustrated again, this time you were also extremely flustered and in no way put together. He just had to be an asshole for anything, didn't he?

"Fine, I do have a crush on you, ok? But if you're going to act like that then I will" You did it. You accepted that you liked him. He was totally right, you were disguising your feelings for him with hatred. But his attitude made you push him away, causing him to slightly stumble as you pick up your bouncy ball and start to leave your now comprised space before you felt his large hand wrap around your smaller one. Turning your head, you saw as his face was full of panic.

"Wait! Don't go. I'm-I'm sorry, ok?" He sounded strained as he apologized, obviously not used to it. Looking at him, you felt conflicted because what if he just continues to act like a dick?

"Look, I don't know what your deal is, but-"

"But, my deal is that...I like you too, ok? I act rude because I don't know how to fricking show affection, got it?" You narrowed your eyes at him, wondering if he was being genuine as it was incredibly hard to know with him. Maybe you should give him a chance...maybe. Maybe you should.

"Ok, fine. Got it. So uh- what do we do now?" He lets go of your wrist and you rub it, he wasn't gripping hard but it was still fairly firm, and look at him. I mean, where DO you know now? After all that?

"Well, we could ya know...do a little making-" You slapped him playfully before smiling and chuckling, shaking your head now relieved that the tension was gone. It honestly felt freeing to finally admit that you liked him now that it was all over, you were just in very heavy denial about it.

"Yeah, we aren't there just yet, Rabbit"

[terukotime]

allow me to be super delulu for a second

if either Eden or Ace are the actual killer, that would mean one of them would be saying their secret quotes in the next coming episodes. but...do we really feel like the situation warrants them saying what their quotes are?

Ace's is: "I don't know what to do with myself anymore."

Eden's is: "You can't go back, no matter how hard you try."

Ace's feels a little strange to say in the trial. we're very close to unearthing the real culprit, and if Ace really is the killer, when would he say that? immediately upon being found out? the quote itself has their air of melancholy and defeatism, and even at his lowest, we know Ace isn't someone to concede or go down without a fight. and if he knows he's about to die, what's the point in saying "I don't know what to do with myself anymore" when he's not even going go be alive in the next few moments? He WON'T be doing anything with himself anymore, he'll be dead.

Eden's, while not as strange of a thing to say as Ace, is also kind of peculiar. when would she say it? while she's admitting to the murder? if Eden did it, sure, it's believable that she'd feel some regret, but the setup to her being the killer feels very odd now that we've gone through this big emotional moment between her and Teruko. honestly, after all that, if Eden really is the killer, i'd be more inclined to believe she WOULDN'T regret killing Arei. it'd seem like her crying and pleading was all just emotional manipulation. it also seems strange to me that Eden would have already had it in mind to kill Arei when she and Teruko found Ace, and took the opportunity to steal the tape to carry it out. i could definitely be wrong, and please correct me if i am, but i think the attempted murder was the same day as what happened with Eden and Arturo? honestly, even if it wasn't, it just feels weird to me that Eden would find some way to disguise her handwriting, set up a murder method even more elaborate than Nico's original version, and then do the whole trial pleading and sobbing for people to believe she didn't kill her and actually have regretted her actions. that shit is so premeditated that everything Eden has done thus far feels like immense emotional manipulation. while that could still be possible...it's not really that satisfying, i'd say. who knows, maybe i'm in severe denial, but i just think this characterization of Eden would be really weird. it would feel less like a betrayal of "man, this character i liked turned out to be awful", and more like a betrayal of "man, this character i liked has made a 180° in their personality without any foreshadowing of having a darker side to them".

and i'm just still really hung up on Hu. her secret quote, "I want to pay for what I've done. But even then, I still want to live." makes total sense in the context of this trial, especially after her secret reveal. and while it's pretty unlikely she took the tape from the gym, there's no guarantee that the person who took the tape at the time HAS to be the murderer. i'm just still hung up on the fact that it feels like there needs to be one last, big twist before the true killer is revealed. a moment where Teruko comes to her realization and the culprit is selected before she makes any actual accusation against them. we already knew Eden and Ace would be the ones Teruko was going to interrogate in the selection because of her explanation. just given how drdt has been written thus far, i feel like they wouldn't hand the potential answer to us like that so easily. like we wouldn't get to the point of selecting the culprit with the story already telling us it can only be one of two suspects.

it's entirely possible that i'm just coping and am refusing to accept that one of my favorite characters is actually the culprit. or that drdt could have a trial that isn't greatly written. it's totally fine if i'm wrong and Eden or Ace really is the killer, i definitely won't enjoy it much but it's not my story, nor would it completely make me drop drdt.

i honestly just needed to rant LMAO. this episode left me with a LOT of feelings.

[shadowuponstorm]

Stay Away From The Coach's Granddaughter

A/N: I recently started watching One Tree Hill and when I searched it, I noticed it's rarely posted about on this platform. So, I thought "Why not write up something for it and be a part of those who want to keep it alive?". Hope you 'Ravens' enjoy! (I just wanted to mention, I love all the endgames! This is just another scenario separate from the show)

Summary: Coaching basketball for Tree Hill always seem to be first place on the list of Brian "Whitey" Durham's pride and joys, when it's in actually fourth place. The third place belongs to his son, Dale, the second for his granddaughter, and the first place is always reserved for Camila. When he gains custody of his granddaughter, he vows to always have her best interest at heart, even if it means warning his boys to stay away from her. What would happen if one of them breaks one of Coach's rules?

-4 YEARS AGO, WHITEY'S POV-

I was about to sit down to eat dinner when a knock came on the door. I grumbled as I tried to get out of my recliner, complaining that all I needed was peace and quiet. I opened the door to see two police officers standing there, with the lights on the squad cars still on.

"You Whitey Durham?" The officer on the left asked as I nodded my head and confirmed I was, "Your son, Dale, was in a car accident. I'm sorry to inform you, sir, that he didn't make it to the hospital."

Hearing those words, ripped a chunk of my heart out. "No, no, not my boy." I kept thinking over and over again, trying to stay upright.

"Thank you for coming all this way to tell me," I said to the officers as they nodded in understanding of my reaction to the shocking news I've been given, "H-have you informed his ex-wife? What about my granddaughter, was she with him?"

"Someone is going over there right now to tell her," The officer on the right responds, he then tells me, "As for your granddaughter, we have her in the back of the squad car. She wasn't in the accident with your son."

I sighed in relief as I looked past the cops' shoulders to see her just sitting there, looking devastated, and I couldn't blame her, she just lost her dad. I asked, "Is there any way you can allow her to stay with me? I mean, her mom lives pretty far from-"

"Oh, Mr. Durham, she isn't going to her mom. Social Services came by the hospital and explained to her that she was to live with you if something were to happen," the officer says as I see his partner go down the steps of my porch and get her out of the car.

"Why don't you go on in? I'll finish this up as quickly as I can," I told my granddaughter as she passed by me to enter the house.

After a few more minutes, the police left and I shut the door behind me to see Charlotte sitting on the couch, as quiet as she could be. She turned to look at me after hearing the door shut and whispered, "What am I going to do without my dad? I'm only 13."

"Oh, sweetheart," I said as I took a seat right next to her and pulled her into a hug, "I know this is going to be hard, but we'll get through this. That's what us Durhams do."

"I'm glad he and Grandma Camila are reunited at least," I hear Charlotte whisper as I tell her that was a good way of thinking.

I will do everything in my heart to keep her safe and protect her as best I can from harm's way.

-PRESENT, Charlotte's POV-

"Come on! Let's Go!" I hear Grandpa shout at the boys as I try to study on the bleachers, "Focus on practicing the plays, not showing off!"

I chuckle to myself and roll my eyes as I witness Tree Hill's star player, Nathan Scott, doing the exact opposite of what he was "asked" of. My phone buzzed beside me and I picked it up to see a text from Haley.

Haley: "Hey, wanna study at Karen's cafe?"

I text back, "Have to ask Grandpa first, but that would be greatly appreciated!"

After I put my phone back down, I glanced back at the court to see Nathan looking in my direction and proceeded to wink at me. I looked around to see if Peyton was sitting nearby, but couldn't see her anywhere.

"Nathan, you got something in your eye son? If not, stop blinking!" Grandpa yelled as the other boys laughed and I shook my head.

I packed up my stuff and headed down the bleachers toward Grandpa to ask him, "Hey, Haley texted me asking if I wanted to study over at the cafe. Can I go?"

"Sure, go ahead," Grandpa said as he glanced his attention to me for a split second, "Stay safe and remember to keep your phone."

"Yes sir," I respond as I walk toward the exit, but not before turning my head to yell over my shoulder, "See you guys at the game!" prompting the guys to hoot and cheer, much to Grandpa's annoyance.

After I arrived at the cafe, I sent a quick text before opening the door to see Haley helping Karen out behind the counter.

"Oh hey sweetie," Karen says as she spots me walking in and putting my schoolbag on the counter, "Your grandpa's yelling was too much for you?"

I laugh at her little joke and respond, "I wish I could say I'm not used to it, but I'm used to it. He's stressed about the big game and Nathan was busy showboating. Speaking of Nathan, he did something strange."

"What did he do?" Haley asked as I pulled out my notes and textbooks, "Did he flirt with you?"

"Okay, one, you know my grandpa's rule about me fraternizing with his "boys" so flirting is out of the question as well as dating. Two, no, he winked in my direction, but Peyton wasn't on the bleachers or there."

"Hold on, you say he winked in your direction, but Peyton wasn't around?" Haley asked as I nodded my head, "Charlotte, he was winking at you."

"No, he wasn't," I respond skeptically as I look over at Karen, who has the "Yeah, he definitely winked at you" expression on her face, "There's absolutely no reason that Nathan Royal Scott, who is taken mind you, would want to wink at me."

"Why not? You're intelligent, funny, and such a beautiful girl," Karen says as Haley voices that she agrees with that.

"Nathan lives up to his father, which means, he is not going to go for the smart and nerdy girl, he's going for the pretty cheerleader," I respond before mentioning, "No offense to Peyton, she definitely rocks it."

"Well, believe me when I say this, something is going off in that boy's brain when you're around," Haley says as she grabs a biscotti from the jar.

"Who are you guys talking about?" Lucas asks from behind, making me jump a little, "Oh, sorry, thought you heard the door open."

"It's fine, we're good," I said as I turned my body in his direction, "Also, none of your business who we were talking about because it's nothing of importance."

"Nathan winked at her and she thought Peyton was nearby," Haley responded as I shushed her from going further than that information.

"Well, they're always breaking up and getting back together, so I didn't know," I said as Lucas nodded his head in understanding of my theory before mentioning, "He and Peyton have broken up for good."

"There, now you have a shot at becoming the star player's girlfriend," Haley says as I roll my eyes and remind her that I'm also the Coach's granddaughter, so there's a little to no possibility of that happening, "You never know, maybe Whitey will go soft at the fact you're finding love."

Despite doubt running through a loop in my mind, maybe Haley's right about this. Grandpa is always telling stories about how he and Grandma were soulmates in love, he would want me to have a similar experience.

-BASKETBALL GAME-

"Hey Charlotte, if we win this game, how about we grab some dinner together?" I hear Tim shout at me, making me roll my eyes and yell back, "In your dreams! Now focus before he chews off your head or worse, benches you for the rest of the game."

I could've sworn I saw a little smile on Grandpa's face when he heard me rejecting Tim's offer. After my dad's passing 4 years ago, it was in writing that Grandpa was to get full custody of me since my mother wasn't acting like an actual mother and being reckless with everything regarding money, drugs, and especially men. It was honestly the best decision my father made because he didn't want me to be exposed to the fact my mom put those first instead of my health and well-being. I understand why the "Stay Away From The Coach's Granddaughter" rule is in place, but doesn't help when most of the boys are actually really nice.

"Hey Charlotte!" I heard someone shout and I looked to see who it was, "Down here!

I turned my head in the direction of the voice to see it was Martin McFadden, or what he likes to be called, Mouth.

"What Mouth?" I asked as I walked down the bleachers to his spot, "Did you need extra help with something?"

"No, it's not that, here," Mouth says handing me a folded-up piece of paper, and before I can ask, he mentions, "If your grandpa asks, just say it's my number so we can keep in touch in case we're working on something."

"Got it," I respond as I put the paper in my pocket and head back to my spot on the bleachers, with part of me itching to want to read the note now.

-AFTER BASKETBALL GAME-

As always, the Ravens kicked ass and my grandpa gained another win to his record. Grandpa and I were on our way home when he asked, "What was that kid giving you? The one with the big lips."

I laughed a little before saying, "His name is Martin, but he goes by Mouth as a nickname. He just wanted to give me his number for his phone in case we're to be working together on a project."

"You sure it isn't a love note? It was folded up pretty good," Grandpa responded as a little joke, prompting me to shake my head.

"No, just a friendly communication between the sportscaster and the granddaughter of the coach," I say as Grandpa parked the car in front of the house.

After dinner had been eaten and dishes cleaned, Grandpa went into the den to watch TV in his favorite recliner as I went into my room. I pulled the paper from my pocket and unfolded it to see a very recognizable handwriting, Nathan.

"Hey, I know this is not ideal, but you know, your grandpa has that rule of his set in stone and I don't want to be benched for the rest of the season. Here's my number xxx-xxx-xxxx, in case you want to talk or text."

I chuckle at how bold this boy is, using his friend to give me this note and bypassing my grandpa's rule. I pull out my phone and text the number, "If this is a prank, I very much don't appreciate that."

Nathan: As fun as that sounds, it's not. Guess you got my note ;)

Me: You know very well I did, it happened right in front of you, and you also had Mouth help you. Good game today.

Nathan: Thanks, that wink was towards you by the way.

I looked at my phone screen in confusion before texting back, "I know, you texted it to me just now."

Nathan: No, I mean earlier. You were looking around like it was meant for someone else.

Me: Can we switch over to a phone call?

Nathan: Wouldn't Whitey overhear you?

I closed my phone and put it in my pocket as I left my room to head towards the den.

"Hey, is it alright if I go for a night bike ride? I won't be gone long," I said as Grandpa nodded his head, "I have my phone on me."

"Stay safe, love you," Grandpa shouts as I yell, "Love you too."

After I shut the door behind me, I started biking down the road that goes toward the River Court. I pulled my phone out and called Nathan as I leaned my bike against the bleachers. He answered on the first ring and said, "So what excuse did you give?"

"Har har, very funny, I gave him an honest one. He's used to me doing rides at night, as long as I'm not out too late," I respond as I hear Nathan laugh, "What? I'm serious, I've never broken any of his ground rules, as of now."

"What a way to break the old man's heart, betrayal," Nathan said as I rolled my eyes and rebutted, "At least I'm always on his good side."

"Touche, question, why were you looking around when I winked at you?" Nathan asked as I ran my hand over my face and groaned.

"It's embarrassing," I respond as Nathan hits me with a "Try me."

After I took a breath, I said, "I thought Peyton was around, so when you winked at me, I looked to see if it was for her since she's usually your girlfriend."

Nathan laughs a little before saying, "We do break up a lot, don't we? Yeah, we're done for this time. Don't worry, that's not something to be embarrassed about."

"Jeez thanks, Scott," I respond jokingly before pulling my phone away from my ear to see the time, only have 15 more minutes before I have to start biking home.

"How much longer do we have on this call?" Nathan asked and before I could ask how he knew, he said, "I heard you pull the phone away."

"We have 15 more minutes before I have to bike home," I respond before I hear his voice change when he asks, "I'm sorry? Did you say bike?"

"Yeah, I thought I mentioned that," I said before clarifying, "I don't have a car yet and I think we both know how my grandpa feels about your dad, so there's no way my car is coming from him."

"Yeah, probably best if you don't," Nathan agrees as I add in, "Sorry, know he's your dad and all, but he can sometimes be an ass."

"Oh no, feel free, I feel the same way," Nathan responds as I start to feel bad about the way how unhappy he is talking about Dan.

To change the topic, I asked, "So, what's the real reason you wanted to talk to me?"

"Just to get to know you, the real you. You know, finally know your personality, not just the fact you happen to be related to my basketball coach," Nathan responds as I feel the inside of my body warm up and blush.

"Didn't know Showboater Scott actually had a heart," I say sarcastically as Nathan laughs and mentions, "Just takes the right person to make it skip a beat."

"I really should get back before Grandpa sends a search party, I'll see you tomorrow," I respond as Nathan agrees and tells me goodnight.

After I told him goodnight back, I closed my phone and started biking back up the road. I entered the house to look into the den to see Grandpa snoring and see the TV was playing a video of an old Ravens game. I grabbed a blanket to cover him up and I kissed him on the forehead to whisper, "Goodnight, Grandpa."

My phone buzzed to signal a text came through as I entered my bedroom, I pulled it out to see Nathan texted me.

"Had to tell you goodnight again, hope your dreams are sweet and have me in them ;)"

I laughed before putting my phone on charge and getting dressed for bed. Maybe tomorrow will bring something more into my life.

-TOMORROW-

"Have a good day today, I'll see you later," Grandpa says as we both exit the car and head toward the school.

After I told Grandpa to have the same, I headed toward my locker to see Tim leaning against it. I thought to myself, "Great, another day to reject his advances, again."

"What do you want Tim?" I asked as I stopped in front of him and shoved his shoulder to get him to move, "And get off my locker."

"Just thought I'd try to serenade you to go out with me, no one can resist my charm," Tim says smugly like he thinks he'll be successful in his attempt today.

Before I can say something, I hear someone say, "Tim, she's never going out with you, so stop. Besides, Turner's looking for you, it looks like you're in trouble as always."

"Aww man, I gotta hide," Tim nervously says as he bolts down the hall and keeps looking in all directions to try to avoid our principal.

I turned around to see Nathan standing there with a smile on his face.

"Clever, is Turner really looking for him?" I asked as Nathan shook his head and said, "Nope, thought I'd save a damsel in distress."

I open my locker to get my textbooks before saying, "I could have handled it myself, but thank you. I swear he just never gives up."

"Yeah, that's Tim for you," Nathan responds as I laugh, "Did you make it home in time? You didn't respond to my text."

"I did, thanks for being concerned. I did get your text, was nice," I said as he plastered an "I take offense to that" expression as a joke and whispered, "How dare you? I worked on that text for hours."

"Fine, it was funny, better?" I respond as Nathan nods and looks around for who I assume is my grandfather to make sure he isn't nearby before he leans in, "I really enjoyed our phone call, we should do it again."

The school bell rings and everyone starts rushing the hallways, causing my attention to be distracted and when I looked back, he was gone. So I pulled my phone out to text him, "We should."

I entered class to take my seat and the teacher started teaching his material when I saw a folded piece of paper get thrown on my desk. I looked towards the person who put it there and they shrugged their shoulder, meaning they were only told to give it to me. I started to unfold the paper when the teacher called my name.

"Yes sir?" I asked as he glanced toward the paper in my hand and asked what I had in my hand, "I'm not sure, I was given this just now."

I handed it to him after he asked for it, knowing he believed me since he knew I was not the type of student to break school rules, opening it to see what it said, before folding it back up.

"Sir, isn't it your rule to read notes aloud?" I hear a student asks before the teacher responds, "Yes, but in this case, I'm not going to."

"Not fair to the other times you did it," Another student says before the teacher looks at me with a somber expression and apologizes before he unfolds the paper to read what it said.

"Charlotte, you should wipe your existence off Planet Earth because of how ugly you are, no wonder your daddy is dead and your mommy didn't care to want you."

My stomach dropped and my veins turned cold hearing those words,

"I-I-" I tried to say but sentences weren't forming in my brain nor connecting with my mouth, "I can't."

I suddenly grabbed my bag and ran out of the classroom with tears streaming down my face. I didn't even know I was going outside the school until I was actually outside, standing on the sidewalk.

"I can't stay here, I don't want anyone to see me like this, especially Grandpa," I kept thinking over and over in my head.

I walked back into the school and towards Turner's office, who was surprised to see me.

"Charlotte, how can I-. Is everything alright?" He asked as I shook my head and told him, "I'm feeling sick and can't stay for the rest of the day. Do you mind telling my grandpa I went home?"

"Of course, hope you feel better soon," Turner says after I thanked him and left the office towards the parking lot to grab my bike.

After I biked home, I got in the house and that's when I finally decided to let out a scream and started sobbing, where no one could hear or see me this way. I've been bullied like this a lot by Rachel, and no one knows about it, not even Grandpa. I don't know why she's doing it, she's only been in Tree Hill for a few months. "I wish she would just stop."

I went into my bedroom and practically slammed my whole body onto the bed to grab a pillow to hold. I must've fallen asleep for a few hours because my phone buzzed with a text and I looked at the screen name to see it was Nathan.

"Hey, where were you? All the guys asked Whitey and he said you'd gone home sick."

Me: I did. A bug must be going around and I caught it.

Nathan: You looked fine this morning so I know that's a lie. What's going on?

Me: Nothing, I'm fine. Aren't you supposed to be practicing?

Nathan: Practice is over, didn't you see the time?

I looked at the time to see it was 5:30, which meant Grandpa would be home in an hour or so from mingling with his friends.

Me: Didn't realize, oops. Sorry, I had to miss seeing Grandpa yell at you guys.

Nathan: I need to hear your voice, phone call?

I sighed and tried to make my voice sound like I hadn't been crying before pressing the call button.

"Hey, how did practice go?" I say with a hint of crackling in my voice, which I silently curse that I let it slip

"About how it is sometimes, are you really okay?" Nathan asked with concern in his voice.

"Yeah, I might've just caught what's been going around. I'll be fine," I said as I heard a car door shut nearby, "Shoot, Grandpa's home early, I'll talk to you later."

After Nathan and I said our goodbyes, I made it look like I'd been sleeping since I got home. The door creaks open as Grandpa's footsteps enter my room and they stop as he sees my appearance. I hear him set down something on my desk and walk over to kiss my forehead to whisper, "Hope you feel better sweetheart, whether the bully is getting to you or you're actually sick."

I open my eyes to see a soup container and by the smell, it's from Karen's cafe, which means it's bound to be delicious. First, I need to talk to Grandpa, so I exit my bedroom to enter the den.

"Listen, I'm really sorry-" I started to say before Grandpa stopped me and said, "I know, your teacher got worried so he came to see me and showed me the nasty note. Then Turner came and told me you left because you weren't feeling good."

"Does that mean I'm barred from going to the next game?" I asked as Grandpa shook his head and told me the skipping class rule doesn't apply to me, "I promise, it's a one-time thing."

"Oh really? So, you're not going to skip class even if Nathan asks you to?" Grandpa asked, making my eyes widen in shock, and before I could ask, he said, "I see the way he looks at you, and I admit, maybe my rule is a little harsh."

"It's not, I understand why," I responded as I mentioned, "He doesn't know about the note or the bullying. This is all recent."

"Well, you outta tell him, he was worried about you when he didn't see you in the bleachers," Grandpa said as I sighed and responded, "I know, I just- I don't know why I'm allowing their words to hurt me."

"Those words hurt me too, seeing those awful things said to part of my whole world, hit me in the core," Grandpa said as I went to sit on the sofa, "You know your daddy loved you so much, loved you to the point he thought of the world of you and ensured you'd be with me as well as protected."

"I know, and I appreciate him for that. The mom part though, struck a chord since it's true, she loves those things more than me," I mention as Grandpa shakes his head yes, "At least I have the best parental figure take her place, because it makes me miss her less."

"Now you're just pulling my leg," Grandpa says to try to make me laugh. I shout, "I'm not! I'm serious."

"I know, just wanted to see that smile of yours, which I hope you've been showing Nathan," Grandpa responds as I blush and say, "We just started recently talking on the phone, but you can say he has since I have a tiny crush on him."

"As much as I don't like the fact he broke my rule, I'm glad," Grandpa said as he smiled and mentioned, "He'll be excited to see you back in the bleachers."

-BASKETBALL GAME-

I sighed, trying to keep the butterflies at bay, before pushing open the door to the gym to enter the basketball game. I looked up at the scoreboard to see the Ravens are winning by 5, hopefully making Grandpa pleased.

"Hey Charlotte, glad to see you're feeling better," I hear Peyton say to me as I walk near the cheerleaders, causing me to turn my head and respond, "Thanks, Peyton."

Before I even passed by the cheerleaders fully, I heard from behind me, "You look like you need a good purging, why don't you go into the bathroom real quick?". Rachel, she's on the squad?? I decided to ignore her and keep walking, but she apparently didn't like that because the next thing that came out of her mouth was, "Hey fatty, did you hear what I said to you?"

"Rachel, stop," Brooke said, genuinely worried, "Don't you realize who you're speaking like that to?"

"Oh I don't care that her grandpa is some big-shot coach, doesn't excuse the fact she looks like that. Probably why her parents didn't want to be near her," Rachel responds with a smug look on her face.

Before I could turn around and call her out on her disgusting behavior, I heard Nathan shout, "That is enough!" causing the whole gymnasium to be quiet.

"Oh come on, you know it's true," Rachel says as if she believes Nathan is on her side and will get the others to join in.

"No, it is not. And you have no right to speak to her like that," Nathan responds as he inches forward, "Ever since you came to Tree Hill, you've been acting like a real bitch to Charlotte, who has never done anything to you. Despite what you've done to her, she remained silent because she knew what it would mean if she spoke up."

"It's not like I'm going to get in trouble for this," Rachel says as Turner speaks up, "Rachel, we know it was you who wrote that note to Charlotte, we'll be discussing your punishment."

When Rachel turns to look at me, she had pissed written all over her face. "You are so fake! People need to know the truth about the real you." Rachel shouts, looking desperate for attention to be on her.

"She's not fake," Nathan says as he moves to be closer to me, "She has a heart of gold, she's kind to everyone around her, she's so smart, she's funny when she thinks she isn't, and doesn't pay any notice if someone is admiring her from afar."

"Nathan, I-" I started to say, fear of my grandpa's rule creeping in when he said, "He gave me permission, it's okay." He took my hand in his and squeezed it in comfort before whispering, "Now, you have another person in your life to love."

I looked up into his eyes to see sincerity swimming in them before I pressed my lips against his and kissed him. I felt him wrapping his arms around my midsection and picking me up, causing everyone to cheer and hoot. Meanwhile, Rachel stormed off with a fuss, but no one was paying attention to her. I pull away before whispering against his lips, "Now go kick some ass, boyfriend."

"Not a problem, girlfriend," Nathan said as he put me down and I smiled as I watched him run back onto the court.

I looked over to see my grandpa smiling back at me and I gave him the thumbs up before going to my seat next to Haley.

-WHITEY'S THOUGHT-

"Camila and Dale, you would be really happy and proud of our girl. She's doing amazing and found herself the best boy I'd imagine she falls in love with and he treats her like she deserves to be treated. Keep watching over us and blessing us with what we need most.

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Want You Back | ateez x reader

Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader

Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?

Warnings for this chapter: none

Word Count: 2150 words

a/n: hello!! hope you enjoy this chapter! I am curious, how is the pacing so far? while editing, I changed up a lot of scenes and spaced them out in other chapters. I'm curious to know your thoughts on how the story is flowing so far - is it too slow or is it okay? all your feedback is greatly appreciated! :)

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Chapter 5

It had been about a week and a half since Mingi's arrival, and for the most part, things took a turn for the better. Mingi was very thoughtful and patient, he was careful not to push or pressure you into doing anything you were uncomfortable with. It was difficult for him at first however, as he wasn’t sure how to begin to fix things with you.

Thankfully, when you introduced Mingi to Chan, the older wizard was kind enough to offer him advice and assist him.

“Give her space,” he explained, “Allow her the time to make her own decisions and think things through without feeling pressured. Show her that you respect her and her choices even if it might not be in your favour.”

Changbin also offered his own advice since he and Mingi shared the same birthday month and he took pride in that. 

“Do little things now and again for her. Don’t do anything over the top! Just small things like buy her a pastry or cook a meal. Send her a kind text during the day now and again. Maybe even ask to take a stroll in the evening at the park sometime.”

Most of your friends welcomed Mingi kindly even though they were quite apprehensive, given your history with him. The only one bold enough to stand his ground was Jisung. He made it particularly and significantly clear that he will not go easy on Mingi and will not hesitate to make him disappear. At first, Mingi found it humorous, seeing it as a baseless threat but Changbin indicated that Jisung could be a menace when he wanted to. So while Jisung smiled sweetly but intimidatingly in the corner of the apartment twiddling his wand in hand, Mingi blinked three times in concern and looked at you. You assured him everything was fine, but truthfully, you weren’t so sure about Mingi’s safety because you did hear about Jisung’s fearsome alter ego. But you weren’t gonna tell Mingi that. 

As for Mingi, he took a while to comprehend your new found life. Slowly, you both realised Mingi thrived better doing more physically energetic pursuits rather than standing behind the cash register with Jisung nearby watching him like a hawk. Chan offered to recruit Mingi at the apothecary to help with running errands with Hyunjin and organising and moving boxes and shelves with Felix and Jeongin. Mingi enjoyed it and felt that it was a good approach in giving you a chance to have space for yourself.

It surprised you how easy going he became with all of it, because though Mingi is kindhearted, he still was an alpha werewolf who does not necessarily do well with being told what to do. Maybe he was actually scared of Jisung? You were curious about what was going on inside his head and jokingly asked Chan if he could pick his brain.

Chan laughed and said no while Minho and Seungmin unapologetically agreed. Chan deadpanned at the two. 

"But I'm curious too!" they argued.

During the week, Chan suggested everyone should have a night out at the karaoke place. While you and Felix belted your hearts out trying to pass Seungmin and Jeongin’s high score, Mingi sat behind you, mesmerised by your voice. It was one of those moments as of recently, where he savoured your presence. He observed your newly dyed hair with streaks of blonde, your pretty hoop earrings, your beaded and charm bracelets adorning your wrists and your outfit.

He remembered vividly the first time the two of you met. You were with Hongjoong as the latter dragged you into the store for snacks while he complained that you ate all of his. Mingi was working at the store during that time and the moment all three of you came into contact, you felt the magnetic pull. It was enchanting and captivating. And meeting you introduced Mingi to another way of life. He began to feel more comfortable in his skin and who he was, you helped him to become confident and maybe even a little reckless when you appeared at his window in the early morning, recruiting him to go with you and Hongjoong to watch the sunrise. In the times when Hongjoong was unable to go, you and Mingi ventured out and spent the time talking and planning for the future.

And whereas Hongjoong was a stickler for not showing affection outside of your private space, Mingi would back hug you as you strolled down the street. The one time he did it to Hongjoong, they both rolled down the hill with Mingi landing on top of him while you watched in panic.

But at least, that's how you met Seonghwa and Yunho. 

In reminiscing, Mingi realised that you met all of them, excluding him, in smaller groups. He discovered that none of you really took the time to get to know each other personally or one on one. 

Mingi was snapped out of his daydreaming by Jisung who poked him with one of the mics. 

"Yes?"

"You weren't moving, so I was wondering if you became a statue.”

"I’m fine."

"Mhmm," he said, "Come on, let’s step outside for a minute."

Mingi was kind of concerned but still he followed him out the door cautiously.

"So are you okay?" Jisung asked.

"Why do you care?” Mingi questioned.

“I don’t really, but you are Y/N’s soulmate and I care about her. So I gotta make sure you’re not going to do something stupid and hurt her.”

“Wow.” Mingi drawled.

“So I shall ask again, are you okay?”

Mingi sighed.

Yeah I just...I realised all of us never really got to know each other personally. All of a sudden we just got together, a big group of nine, and we never took the time to spend with one another. Maybe only Hongjoong and Y/N have.”

Jisung eyed Mingi carefully before responding, "Yeah I know what you mean.”

“You do?”

Jisung rolled his eyes, “That was me when I met Minho, we clicked almost immediately and everything came so naturally, we never really took the time to just be friends and get to one another personally. You know, like really getting to each other for who we are, not just our likes and dislikes but how we operate and think."

"I feel like something happened."

"Something did…” Jisung contemplated for a moment before continuing, “We started to just expect that we would understand each other and meeting the others amplified that. So as we started to split our time, we expected certain things from each other and when it wasn't being met we would argue a lot. We expected that the other person would do things for the other and it became a whole mess."

"What did you guys do to fix it?"

"Chan intervened and we basically did what you and Y/N are doing now, and we also sought therapy from one of Chan's friends and it helped us better understand each other."

"Do you think Y/N and I should try therapy?"

"Do whatever works best for you. Therapy might be a good idea and I think you are doing well with taking your time for now. Maybe bring it up after a few weeks if you still feel like it would help. I've seen the way you’re trying.”

“Oh my gosh, did you just say something nice to me!?” Mingi gasped.

Jisung smirked, “I don’t dislike you Mingi. I’m just wary of you. I saw how broken Y/N was when she got here and she has told me little bits here and there. As her friend who also sees her as a sister, I don’t want to see her hurt again.”

Mingi felt a sense of appreciation at the way Jisung cared about you. 

"I feel bad about hurting Y/N like that,” Mingi confessed, “I’m a terrible person.”

"You’re not. You’re not a bad person, it was a terrible, terrible lapse in judgement if you ask me or whatever, but you’re learning and that’s the most important thing you can do right now, learn and not be ignorant.”

"Thanks Jisung, I feel a little better now."

"You’re welcome and I still will not hesitate to deal with you or any of the others if you hurt her. "

When it was time to leave, you walked side to side with Mingi hands in your jacket pockets as the two of you commented on the day’s events. The night was chilly but it provided the perfect opportunity in Mingi’s mind to stay in a little close proximity to you to give you more warmth. He was mindful not to overstep any boundaries but you didn’t mind this time, and allowed him to cosy up a little next to you. He had to leave to go back home tomorrow, Chan offering to open a portal and giving him a way back to you. 

Mingi didn't want to leave but the others were waiting for him. With Chan’s help, he got into contact with Yunho who he told that he needed to be away for a while after the previous dinner events. Now, he was going back to explain the matter, ask to be temporarily put on leave from his duties and express his decision to stay with you for however long he wanted. 

This time it was necessary for it to be one-on-one as Jisung educated him. He had to make it right.

He wasn't sure how the others would react but he hoped that they might come back with him at the very least maybe.

While the two of you waited for the others to catch up, you told Mingi that you were going to dispose of some wrappers in your pocket. As you rounded a corner that was a little far off where a trash can was located, your thoughts were interrupted by a strange voice.

"Well well well, if it isn't one of us." a sickly voice sang.

You turned around at the voice. You had no clue who they were exactly but judging by the tattoo on their arm, they were rogues. How were they here?

"What the heck do you want?” You questioned.

“Now, that’s no way to talk to an alpha."

“You’re not my alpha and I do not care to talk to you.”

“Aww but you’re hurting my feelings.”

"Bleh." You gagged.

They were not amused by your response and it didn't take long for them to swing at you. You dodged and tried to find a way out but after some scuffling you did end up with a bruised lip and your arm being pinned behind your back. You weren't scared at first but you needed backup and fast.

With every fibre of your being, you drowned out the taunts of the rogues and focused on your connection to Mingi. You called Mingi's name hoping he would hear.

"That's a nice necklace you have there." the sickly voice commented.

Your half moon necklace was given to you by your mates, representing your clan. You never took it off and it was your most prized possession. As the sticky finger rogue attempted to reach for it, a hand grabbed him with force and pressure. Every single one of his bones cracked gruesomely and his skin began to turn a grisly black and blue.

"Do not ever touch my mate." Mingi snarled ferociously. 

His eyes turned into his gold werewolf colour and he threw the rogue back effortlessly. You could feel the change in Mingi’s aura as he glowered dangerously at the other one that was pinning your arm and swung at him, hitting him right in the nose, a sickening crack ringing through. He scowled at the other two who stepped back seeing the infuriated alpha. They ran off leaving behind their members. 

“Pathetic.” he seethed.

As he composed himself on seeing you, Mingi rushed to help you and escort you back. He began to fuss all over you, his sentences rushing through like a waterfall.

"I got your pull, it freaked me out because I should've known better to let you go alone! I'm so glad you're okay! I'm not leaving again, I'll tell Chan to send a letter or something, are you okay!? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Mingi…” you began, “You're going to have to go back."

"What!? No! Why!?"

You noticed something. Besides Mingi’s connection, you began to feel the pull and call of your other seven mates. Though you called for Mingi specifically when you focused your mind on him, being in danger and initiating your soul bond after so long, activated the connection for your other mates which meant that your connection to all of them that was once dormant, was now ignited.

They felt it too. You could hear their calls.

"They know."

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a/n: hi again! unfortunately, I was unable to tag you @greensnakeglobep :( I'm really sorry about this, I'm not sure why I'm not able to. if anyone could clarify how to fix this, please let me know, thank you!!