#I've been staring at my laptop screen for a while now without typing because this adorable stubborn idiot refuses to let me keep on writing

[hirunoka]

... if only the characters I'm writing would listen to me for ONCE. You know, for a change.

I'm currently fighting with Bernard in my head because he NEEDS to listen to me and just DO NOTHING, but of fucking course he won't listen.

[chaoticforever]

Love Potion | Yandere Dean Winchester x Male! Reader

Dean walked out of the motel bathroom to see his younger brother at the table, fingers typing away on his laptop, eyes staring intently at the screen.

"Hey Sammy." He greeted tiredly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Hey Dean." Sam replied, glancing up at his brother for a brief second, and he frowned at seeing dark bags under his eyes, "Did you get any sleep last night?"

Dean shrugged, "I got enough sleep." Sam raised an eyebrow, knowing that his brother wasn't telling him the truth, and waiting for the true answer as Dean let out a sigh, "I didn't get any sleep. I'm just worried about Y/N. He hasn't called, or at least texted me back in a while now. That's not like him. Y/N almost always answers his phone."

"He'll show up when he can. He's a busy man too, after all." Sam reassured Dean, even though a part of Sam was worried, too. They haven't heard from you in about three weeks, and that isn't like you at all, but you were most likely on a hunt with your brother, and your brother would never let anything bad happen to you, "Anyways, I think I found a case."

"What do you got this time?"

"So, get this: A divorced woman tries to get back with her ex husband. Sources say that when he rejected her, she killed him before killing herself."

"What does this have to do with us? Some woman went crazy because she's in love with a man who doesn't love her back. How is this supernatural related?"

"Well, sources say that this same thing has happened to different ex couples in the last two months." Sam explained.

Dean hummed, "So, what do you think were dealing with this time? A ghost, or some black eyed son of a bitch?"

Sam shook his head, "No clue," He responded, "We can go check it out. It's not too far from here."

"Okay, let's hit the road."

XXXXX XXXXX

Dean and Sam had talked to the wife's best friend, Shelia who reported what had happened to the police already. 

She was a little confused that two cops showed up to question her again, but decided to help anyway. 

Sheila explained that both Angela and Richard had decided on getting a divorce together. They fell out of love with one another. Suddenly, Sheila was getting obsessive over Richard, showing up at his house whenever she got the chance and scared off any woman that Richard came in contact with. She stalked him any time she could, and somehow fell back in love with him. Once he rejected her, she grew angry and shot him before shooting herself. 

The Winchesters listened to everything that Sheila had said and this was one case they didn't know what to think. 

It didn't sound like a ghost or demons doing any of this, so the brothers figure that it had to be some other monster. 

Currently, they were sitting in a cafe, researching about who it could be when they heard a voice they haven't heard in a while. 

"Hey Sammy and Dean-O." 

Both jumped and instantly let out a sigh of relief at seeing their friend who they both missed along with their angel. 

Without thinking, he stood up and brought you into a hug. 

"Why have you been gone for so long?" Dean grumbled, nodding his head towards their angel, "Cas," 

"Hello Dean and Sam." Cas sat down next to Sam after giving the younger Winchester a hug. 

"Hey Cas and Y/N." Sam greeted politely.

You smiled and nodded at Sam once Dean let go. You sat down next to Dean inside the booth with him on the outside and he sat closer than necessary, but you didn't question it. 

"Where have you been, man?" Dean asked and you looked at both the brothers apologetically. 

"Sorry that I've been gone so long. Once me and my brother finished our case, we decided to have some brother time, and I met up with Cas here when I arrived in this town and there's a problem." 

"What's the problem?" Sam asked, his laptop forgotten at the moment. 

"A cupid and the God of love, Eros has rebelled and has gone rogue recently." Cas answered. 

You took a deep breath before chiming in, "Apparently, he didn't get what he wanted in Heaven, so now he's taken it out on couples and non-couples as well.  Cas called me when he sensed the cupid's presence here." 

Dean and Sam shared a look, "That explains the killings here." Dean said. 

You and Cas knitted your brows together in confusion, as you spoke, "Killings? What killings?" 

"Couples and non-couples have become obsessed with their crush or ex before killing themselves and their ex partners." Sam explained to you both as Dean took a bite out of his burger. 

You hummed, "Does that mean he's here?" You asked Cas. 

"He's here," Cas confirmed, "I'm not exactly sure where in this town, but I do know that he's here somewhere." 

The three of you were so engrossed in the conversation you were having that no one noticed how Dean seemed to be in a daze and let his gaze focus on you. 

Wasn't until Sam asked Dean a question, he noticed how his older brother seemed to be in a daze and was staring at you. 

"Uh, Dean? Are you okay?" 

That question went totally ignored by Dean, he caressed your face with the back of his hand, causing you and Cas to snap your necks over to Dean.

"Dude, what are you doing?" You asked, slowly and cautiously removing Dean's hand from your face who held onto your hand tightly. 

"Gosh, Y/N. You are the hottest man alive and your hands are so soft." Dean admitted and your eyes widened. 

Everyone in the booth was wondering what the hell was going with Dean before realisation dawned on Sam and Cas, "Y/N..." Sam started to speak. 

"What is it, Sam?" You demanded to know. 

"Dean has been slipped some of the love potion." Cas answered instead, and you felt like you stopped breathing for a second. 

"Oh crap..." You muttered, looking back over at Dean who stared at you with love in his eyes. 

XXXXX XXXXX 

You took a deep breath in and out. 

'We need to talk without him here.' You told Cas telepathically who nodded and told Sam the same thing who agreed. 

Everyone in the booth stood up and Cas cleared his throat before he spoke, "Dean, me and Sam would like to speak to Y/N without your presence." 

Dean looked back and forth between each of you three, "Why? What for?" He asked, eyes narrowing at Sam and Cas, "And why the hell do you both want to be alone with my hunter? He's mine!" 

Sam visibly flinched at how much venom and anger that was laced in Dean's voice that was directed to the younger brother and their angel. 

"U-Um, well-" Was the only thing Sam could stutter out before you chimed in. 

"Hey Dean?" You spoke softly, smiling at him, acting in high school finally kicking in from what you were feeling right now, "Can I please speak with them alone?" 

"Did i do something wrong?" 

You shook your head, "No, nothing at all. There's just something that we need to discuss with just the three of us." 

Dean finally gave in and nodded his head, "Okay, If that makes you happy," He turned to stare at Cas and Sam, "I'll be outside watching you guys like a hawk and if any of you touch him or even look at him the wrong way, you're both dead." 

Once he was outside and out of hearing range, you faced Sam and Cas with a look of worry painted on your features, "What do we do about this situation?" 

"Until we find Eros, you'll have to pretend to be Dean's lover." Sam insisted. 

You blinked, "So, I have to pretend to be my best friend's lover?" 

One thing you could admit was that Dean was insanely attractive. He was one of the hottest guys you've ever seen before. Hell, Sam was too with his muscular body, and Cas with his pretty bubble of innocence. 

These men were attractive, but you didn't see them in that way. 

And having to pretend that you were in love with, Dean; a guy who you didn't have feelings for and was as straight as they come along with being your best friend was something that wasn't going to be easy. 

"Do I really have to do this?" You asked, not really wanting to do this at all. 

Cas nodded, "You do because if you don't, Dean will kill you and himself." 

You let out a sigh. You didn't have a choice, but to act as his lover. You'd rather pretend to be Dean's lover and keep you both alive than dead. 

You nodded, "Okay, I'll do it." You agreed. 

XXXXX XXXXX 

The four of you went back to a motel. 

You and Cas looked through various books for hours on anything about Eros while Sam did some research on his laptop, as Dean sat very close to you on the motel bed, playing with your hair. 

You gave the older Winchester a fake smile as he smiled lovingly at you back. 

Once Dean finished playing with your hair, he gave you a massage that you did not ask for in the slightest, but you could admit that it was a good massage. 

Finally, you found something on Eros. 

"I finally found something on Eros." You said as Cas and Sam looked at you when you started reading out loud. 

Eros was the Greek god of love, or more precisely, passionate and physical desire. Without warning he selects his targets and forcefully strikes at their hearts, bringing confusion and irrepressible feelings or, in the words of Hesiod, he 'loosens the limbs and weakens the mind.' 

He either shoots them with a cupid's arrow, or gives them doses of a love potion. One thing to be warned about is that if someone is handed too much of the love potion, he or she will become obsessive with someone until the love ultimately kills them both. 

"That explains the obsessiveness." Sam said, "But how does this help us find him?" 

You thought about that for a second, "When did Dean start acting- like this?"

"After he took a bite out of his burger." Cas answered. 

"Right, and one of the victims ate food at a cafe before becoming obsessive."

"What are you getting at?" Sam asked, wondering what you were thinking. 

"I'm thinking the potions in the food at the cafe where we were at earlier today."

"He's so so smart and handsome!" Dean commented as you rolled your eyes. 

"The smartest," Cas agreed, and you and Sam could hear a tint of sarcasm in the angel's voice. Both of you wondered when the clueless angel picked up on sarcasm, but you were impressed, "But, what Y/N said makes a lot of sense. We need to go back to the cafe." 

"How about we go right now?" You offered, ready to finish this case. 

Sam shook his head, "The cafe won't be open until tomorrow. Closed right now." 

You let out a sigh, "Tomorrow then." 

Cas disappeared, saying that he was going to see if he could track the cupid down on his own and would come back to let you guys know. Sam flopped on the motel bed and immediately went to sleep, leaving you alone with Dean. 

You cleared your throat, "Well, I guess it's time to call it a night, huh?" 

He nodded, "Can you please sleep with me tonight?" Dean begged, taking a hold of your wrist. 

"Um," You were planning on it, but knew what this potion could do to someone, so you nodded, "I'd love to." 

A smile graced upon Dean features, "Great! Take off your clothes!" 

You did as he told with the exception of your boxers and crawled into the bed as Dean did the same and wrapped his muscular arms around you, pulling you closer with his face buried into the crook of your neck. 

XXXXX XXXXX 

"It's best if we stay friends." Lucas said. 

Lucas was one of your old boyfriends from high school who you have recently reconnected with. You met up with him after hanging out with your brother and met up with him tonight in this town. 

Sneaking out of the motel was hard. 

Dean wouldn't let you go, had his arm wrapped around your waist tightly and when you tried, he would hold onto you tighter, holding onto you for dear life. 

Somehow, you managed to get the green eyed male off you and went to this bar that's opened 24/7 to have a little chat with Lucas, wanting to tell him that you wanted to only be friends. 

It was definitely a surprise to hear him say that you wanted to be just friends, but you were grateful that he was on the same page as you. 

"I think that's best as well." You replied, smiling at him when he smiled back. 

The two of you had talked for a while before deciding to call it a night. He had to get up for work in the morning, and you had to get back to the motel before Dean noticed that you were gone. 

Both of you were near each other's cars, the parking lot empty and he leaned over and gave you a big, bone crushing hug. 

"Take care of yourself, okay? And see you around." He murmured into your neck. 

You nodded, "I'll be sure to do that and make sure that you do the same, man." 

A gunshot could be heard and you looked around, wondering where did that come from while keeping your arms around Lucas. 

"What was that? Did you hear that?" 

Lucas didn't answer your question and you frowned, "Lucas?" 

He didn't answer once again and you pulled back to see that he was freakin' shot! 

His eyes were wide with blood dripping from the whole in his stomach where he was shot at. Before you could move or even think, he was shot again and his body fell to the ground like dead weight.

"Oh my God, Lucas!" You bent down to see if Lucas had a pulse only to be hauled up into someone's arms, a gun pointed at your head. 

"Get in the car, Y/N." Dean demanded. 

"I'm not getting in your car! You just shot my friend and I drove myself here, so-"

"GET IN THE DAMN CAR, NOW!" 

Being the guy you were, you went to protest once again, but he dragged you to the Impala and threw you inside as you tried to get out of his grip. 

The engine roared and Dean sped out of the parking lot with the Impala flying down the road as you braced yourself. The car ride was silent, the only sound that could be heard was the thunder in the night sky. 

How the hell did this happen? 

Was the potion really that strong that made him actually kill someone? You underestimated how powerful the potion really was. 

You ended up at the same motel you were staying at. Dean shut off the car and slammed the door so hard you could have sworn you heard the window crack which made you jump slightly. The passenger's door was flung open and Dean dragged you inside, but into a different motel room. 

"What the hell do you think you were doing, huh?!" Dean shouted at you. 

"What are you talking about?" 

"You went on a date with Lucas! You're freakin' ex!" He screamed, "And I heard you tell him you loved him in the bar, too! You really decided to cheat on me like this?!" 

"What? No, I-" Dean didn't even give you a chance to finish that sentence. 

He pushed you up against the wall,   "Tell me you love me and that you're mine, and nobody else's. That you give yourself completely to me, and that you belong to me, and me only. I want to hear you say it now!" Dean growled. 

"Dean, I love-" You paused, not really wanting to say it, but knew what would happen if you didn't. You shouldn't have paused because Dean took that as rejection. 

He took a couple of steps back and  pulled out the gun out of his back pocket and aimed it at you, as you put your hands up in surrender. 

"I fucking knew it! You still love Lucas, and now you reject me? I hate to do this, but I'm going to kill you and then myself. If I can't have you, then nobody can!" 

Your heartbeat was the only thing that you could hear, it was pounding like you've been running for hours and hours, and you thought you were about to die until there was one last thing you could think of. 

"I love you, Dean!" You shouted which stopped Dean from pulling the trigger. 

"What did you just say?" Dean asked, the gun still trained on you. 

"I said that I love you. You're the only man for me. I love you, not Lucas." You whispered softly, hoping he'd buy it. 

Dean placed the gun down and his lips curled upwards into a smile. He walked  over to you and held onto your waist as he stared into you in your E/C eyes. 

"I knew you loved me," He said, kissing you on the lips, "I want to hear it again." 

"I love you." 

Dean placed another kiss on your lips, "Again." 

"I love you." You repeated again. 

Another kiss, "One more time, baby boy." 

You took a deep breath, "I love you." 

Dean grinned and kissed you again, "I knew you loved me." He started attacking your neck. Sucking hard on it as you accidentally let out a little moan. He let his tongue flicker out on one specific spot as he bit hard enough to leave a mark. That mark symbolized that you belonged to Dean. 

"You belong to me forever, and I'm so glad that you feel the same way as me. You're mine, and mine alone. No one can ever have you the way I can. You're my whole world and my life wouldn't make sense without you. No can ever love you this way, but me. Mine forever." 

You couldn't believe what was happening. 

Until they find Eros and reverse the love potion, your life is in the hands of a monster who plans on keeping you for himself. 

But, you also wondered how much of that was the love potion talking, and how much of that was Dean talking because the potion is different from the love arrow. 

The arrow brings out strong feelings, but the potion can bring out desires that someone wants to keep hidden. 

How much of that was Dean himself? 

XXXXX XXXXX 

[ming-yu-hao]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder | Chapter 1

Pairing: fratboy!mingyu x female reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Synopsis: When you transferred to a different university, you and Wonwoo promised that you would make long distance work. But distance proves to be more difficult than you both originally thought.

This Chapter’s Tags: some angst ig, light cheating? (not really lol), mingyu is just flirty, female masturbation, mentions of alcohol and weed

Warning: THIS SERIES IS ABOUT CHEATING. DO NOT READ IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

A/N: it’s gonna get spicy soon just trust me ;)

Chapters: Next | Masterlist

30 minutes. That's how long you had spent anxiously perched in front of your computer, waiting for the familiar ring of the video call to echo through the speakers. You cycled between scrolling through social media, checking your reflection in the camera, and debating on whether or not to text Wonwoo. You understood that he was busy; it wasn't unusual for either of you to call a few minutes later than you had originally planned. But Wonwoo had never left you hanging for this long without an explanation. Normally, your mind would begin to fixate on the worst case scenario, but Wonwoo had already cancelled on you the past two weeks because he was busy working.

The loud vibration of your phone against your desk drew you out of your thoughts, and you hurriedly picked it up and saw Wonwoo's name glowing across the screen. "Hello?" You answered quickly.

"Hey," Wonwoo's deep voice sounded through the phone. "You're gonna hate me," He chuckled.

"I could never," You replied. You already knew the next words that were going to come out of his mouth.

"I can't FaceTime tonight." He explained. Even though you saw it coming, you couldn't help the feeling of disappointment that weighed heavy on your chest.

Your eyes met with the reflection displayed on the laptop screen. It taunted you, reminding you that Wonwoo's face wouldn't be there to replace it once again. "Well, I would be a lot happier right now if you told me that half an hour ago," You laughed bitterly. Running a hand through your hair, you quietly sighed.

"I know. I'm sorry." Wonwoo apologized. His voice was laced with genuine sorrow; you could clearly picture the frown that lined his lips right now. He added after a moment of silence, "I don't wanna keep doing this to you, so I think we should change our date day. I've been working more Fridays lately."

You nodded despite him not being able to see you and hummed in agreement. "What day then?" You asked.

"I'm not sure yet. I still have to figure out my schedule. Just text me what works for you and I'll let you know soon, okay?" He sighed.

"Oh, okay... yeah." Your lips drew into a tighter line with each word he spoke.

"Okay, I have to get to get back to work right now. I'm sorry again." He continued quickly. "I love you."

"I love you too."

The three tones signaled the end of the call, and slowly you pulled the phone away from your ear. Your tired reflection stared back at you. Finally, you shut the computer for the third Friday in a row.

The remainder of the weekend passed and you had barely heard anything from Wonwoo except for the usual good morning and goodnight texts. By the time Wednesday came around, the both of you finally agreed that Saturday could be your new set day for FaceTime dates. You powered through the rest of the week, and on Saturday you excitedly set aside all the work from your classes and waited patiently for Wonwoo to call.

You really missed him. It'd been just over two months now since you last saw him in person, when you moved into your dorm at a university three hours away from the one where you and Wonwoo met. He stayed behind while you transferred to a college with a renowned journalism program. At first, you were hesitant to leave him, but Wonwoo refused to let you give up such a great opportunity just to stay close to him. That was what you loved about him: he wanted to see you be happy and successful.

Situating yourself comfortably on the bed, you pulled up some random Netflix series to entertain yourself while waiting for Wonwoo. You only half paid attention, glancing between the computer screen and your Instagram feed on your phone. Time crawled, and slowly you sunk deeper into the softness of the mattress below.

Cold, small hands shook you awake. You rubbed your eyes and sat up, disoriented. The series you were watching was still playing quietly. Your roommate, Jisoo, stood next to your bed with her arms crossed over her chest. She stared at you with a raised eyebrow. "You're passed out by 7 on a Saturday night?" A teasing smile was displayed across her face as she shut your laptop.

You suddenly realized that it was an hour past the time that Wonwoo had promised to FaceTime you. Your heart sunk in your chest as you thought about how you probably missed his call without an explanation. You picked up your phone, but quickly noticed the notification for a missed phone call from him, followed by a text that said: I'm so sorry, something came up I promise I'll call you tomorrow.

Jisoo surveyed you for a moment; a more serious expression began to cross her features. She sat down at the bottom of your bed. "Did something happen?"

You rolled your eyes and looked down at your hands. "Wonwoo cancelled on me again," You sighed, "But I shouldn't be mad at him for it. It's not his fault he's busy."

Jisoo tsked and patted your leg through the sheets. "Of course you can be upset! How many times has it been now?"

"This entire month. And he always cancels super late."

She scoffed, "See! That's shitty. If this was the first time it wouldn't have been a big deal. But four times?" She stood up quickly and opened up her wardrobe. "If he wants long distance to work, he needs to have better communication."

"Yeah, I guess." You replied. Jisoo held a black top up to her figure, observing herself in the mirror. "Where are you going?" You inquired.

"A party at the SVT frat. You know any of them?" She explained while changing her outfit.

You had heard of the frat before, but you racked your brain for any of their names and couldn't remember one. "I don't think so."

Jisoo faced you again and smiled. "Well, let's go."

You chuckled, "No way."

She pouted. "Come on. You haven't gone out with me I'm so long. You're in college!" Jisoo begged. "Just this once. You'll have fun."

Jisoo had a point. You really had nothing else better to do besides sit around and mope over Wonwoo ditching you. You let out an exhasperated sigh of defeat, "Fine, I'll go."

"Yes! Go get all cute and dressed up." She cheered.

You emerged from your bed and strolled over to your own closet. "Alright, I'll be quick."

You and Jisoo walked into the party hand in hand. Immediately, the stench of weed and sweat overwhelmed you. Loud music vibrated through the walls of the house and clashed with the sounds of people cheering and yelling. An intense game of beer pong captured the attention of most people in the main room, but you could see a separate crowd gathered in the kitchen too.

"Who do you know here again?" You shouted over the music at Jisoo, not seeing a single person you recognized so far.

She leaned closer to you so you could hear. "Choi Seungcheol. I have a chemistry class with him." She scanned the room and suddenly perked up. "Oh, there he is!" She called his name and pulled you along with her towards him.

He stood against the wall with a red cup in his hand, talking with another tall boy. At the call of his name, he looked over at the two of you and smiled brightly. "Jisoo! I'm so happy you made it." He exclaimed while wrapping his arm around her lower back. Seungcheol watched you with kind eyes as you approached him. "And who is this?" He asked Jisoo.

"This is my roommate, Y/N. Y/N, this is Seungcheol." She introduced you both and you smiled and gave a small wave to the two boys.

The other boy flashed you a sweet smile that caused his eyes to form into crescents. "I'm Seokmin. I live here with Cheol." He explained.

All four of you continued to converse casually until Seungcheol pointed to you and Seokmin and said, "Hey, why don't you two go get some drinks? We'll wait here." You swore you saw a gleam of mischief in his eyes, and you quickly glanced at Jisoo to see if she noticed it too, but her expression remained neutral. This was exactly why you strayed away from parties. You wanted to avoid any encounters with flirty, drunk frat boys. But Jisoo, who was basically a mind reader, didn't react, so maybe you were just being overly paranoid.

You nodded and walked over to the kitchen, Seokmin following close behind, and watched as he began to mix some drinks together for the four of you. He let out a frustrated sigh as one of the bottles of liquor reached its end. Seokmin peeked over his shoulder and shouted, "Mingyu! Can you get me the other bottle of vodka?" You perked up at the familiar-sounding name, but couldn't remember where you had heard it before.

A moment later a presence approached you and Seokmin from behind and set the bottle down on the counter. "Now you have to make me one too," The deep voice joked. You turned around and immediately recognized the tall figure.

"Mingyu?" You called out in surprise.

His eyes dragged over and met yours. His face lit up instantly as he recognized you. "Y/N! What are you doing here?" Mingyu laughed.

Seokmin turned around and handed a cup to Mingyu with a raised eyebrow. "You guys know each other?" He questioned.

You grabbed your own cup and took a sip of the bittersweet mixture. "Yeah, we have a digital media class together." You said before smirking at Mingyu. "I didn't think you were the frat boy type."

Mingyu rested his right hand on the counter beside you, almost trapping you in between the wood and his body. "I guess I'm just full of surprises," He replied.

You felt your heart flutter in your chest at his flirty response. This was a whole new side of him that you had never seen before in class. Granted, he was most likely tipsy and maybe even a bit high, but in class he was usually polite and reserved. He cracked jokes with you sometimes, but you never expected him to be so bold. On top of that, he always had his hair styled back neatly. Now, his dark hair fell over his forehead in messy curls. His skin was sheathed in a light layer of sweat, and the muscles in his arms and chest were suddenly more prominent under his white tee in the dim light of the house. You had to admit, he was ridiculously attractive.

"I'm gonna go give this to Cheol and Jisoo," Seokmin interrupted before leaving the kitchen with both cups in his hands.

Silently, you started behind him and Mingyu walked with you. "So what are you doing here?" He asked again as the two of you rounded the corner and entered the living room.

"My roommate was invited and made me go with her," You told him. You continued to sip your drink, basking in the warm feeling that the alcohol left in your chest.

"Makes sense. I didn't expect you to be a party girl." He teased. His arm slowly snaked around your waist and squeezed your hip lightly. Your skin tingled beneath his touch but you didn't give him any physical reaction, opting to just ignore the grip he had on you.

Your jaw dropped in a fake gasp. "You think I'm boring or something?" You narrowed your eyes at him and he chuckled.

"I never said that," He responded with a smirk on his lips.

Seungcheol and Jisoo had migrated from the spot where they previously stood, so you scanned the crowded room for the long haired girl. Finally you noticed her sitting close to Seungcheol on the couch. You could see they were laughing about something and considering Seokmin wasn't hovering near them anymore either, you decided to leave them be.

Mingyu noticed where you were looking and raised his eyebrows at you when you turned back to look at him. "Well, I guess my roommate is busy," You rolled your eyes.

You had forgotten about Mingyu's hand on your waist until he squeezed it again. "Good thing you have me then," He bantered. Your skin flushed; you slightly leaned into his touch. It had been so long since you felt someone else's hands roam across your body. You missed the feeling.

Mingyu slowly pulled your body closer to his until your chest was centimeters away. You gulped and dragged your eyes up to meet his. He stared at you intensely, his other hand coming up to caress your cheek. Your breathing hitched as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip. "You're so pretty," He muttered. It felt like fire had lit up your entire body. Your nerves tingled and your brain felt fuzzy and you hated to admit it but you could feel arousal growing between your legs. Somehow Mingyu pulled you even closer than before and you felt his hard cock brush against your thigh through his jeans. His tongue darted out against his lips and he inched his face towards yours. "Can I kiss you?" He whispered just inches away from you lips.

Guilt imprisoned you as soon as he said those words. They reminded you of where you were, and what you were planning on doing. You closed your eyes and pulled yourself out of his grasp. "I have a boyfriend," You admitted briskly.

Mingyu stared at you in confusion. "What?"

Shame overtook you. Wonwoo had trusted you to remain loyal, and here you were at a frat party, leading on some poor boy from your class.

Mingyu lightly grabbed your wrist. "Hey, I'm sorry. I should've asked-" He started, but you quickly cut him off.

"No, I'm sorry. This is my fault." You apologized and pulled your wrist out of his grasp. You looked at him; he stared at you with a sorrowful gaze. The regret on your face was evident and he knew that he had helped in bringing this guilt upon you.

"I- I have to go do something," You added before turning around and darting towards the door. You didn't bother to turn around or look for Jisoo, you just needed to get out of there as fast as possible. Once you were outside, you inhaled a sharp breath and pulled out your phone to call for an Uber. You waited near the street, sending a text to Jisoo to let her know that you felt sick and went home while you waited.

Eventually the Uber pulled up and you hurriedly sat down and told the driver where to go. You breathed a sigh of relief as they finally pulled away from the frat.

The drive was short, but you spent every one of those few minutes replaying the night's events in your mind. Your flesh still tingled in the places where Mingyu had touched you. Guilt haunted you, but you attempted to lessen that burden by reasoning with yourself. You missed Wonwoo. A lot. You missed hearing his voice and seeing his face and of course feeling his touch against your skin. You hadn't been fucked in over two months now, so it was no wonder that any bit of physical affection would have such a strong effect on you. What mattered is that you stopped it before anything happened. You could live with that, you decided. All you had to do now was just clear up things with Mingyu next week, deal with any awkwardness between you two, and focus on Wonwoo.

When you arrived at your dorm, you quickly changed your clothes, cleansing yourself of the faint smell of weed and the remnants of Mingyu's touch. Not long after, exhaustion began to take over your body. You laid down on the bed, not even bothering to check your phone before closing your eyes and letting sleep overcome you.

You weren't sure what time you fell asleep, but you awoke some time later and glanced at the clock. 11:54 PM. You stretched your arms behind your head and yawned as you scanned the room. Jisoo was still gone. You closed your eyes again and tried to fall back asleep, but your mind began to race.

You could clearly picture Mingyu's lust-filled eyes staring down at you, his hands running over your waist and pulling you towards the heat of his body. The glow of his skin, the messy curls hanging over his forehead, the fullness of his lips as he asked in his husky voice if he could kiss you—the images and sensations swirled around in your thoughts.

In a half asleep daze, you rubbed your thighs together. Friction built between your legs. You groaned quietly as your mind revisited how you felt when Mingyu's hands were on your body. More arousal began to pool in your heat, your underwear clinging to your wetness.

Languidly, you ran your hand down your stomach and toyed with the hem of your underwear before slowly pulling the fabric down your legs. You imagined Mingyu's sharp eyes staring at you from between your thighs as you ran your fingers through your slick folds. Arousal coated your fingers and you began to rub your clit in slow circles. You pretended that Mingyu's thick fingers were the ones teasing your clit, making your legs jolt each time you pressed the right spot.

You moaned quietly and began to grope your own breast. You squeezed and flicked your nipple, causing a quiet gasp to fall from your lips. You pulled your hand away from your clit and slowly pushed two fingers into your dripping heat. "Mmh, Mingyu," You groaned under your breath. You imagined his deep voice saying the dirtiest things to you as he pumped and curled his fingers into your pussy.

You gasped as you hit a particular spot that made you arch your lower back. You continued pumping your fingers at a fast pace until the knot building in your lower stomach snapped. Your eyes rolled back and you let out a sharp whine as an intense feeling of euphoria washed over your body.

Your body relaxed against the sheets as your heart rate began to slow and exhaustion overtook you once again. You sighed contently and wrapped yourself in your blankets, allowing yourself to drift off to sleep.

You promised yourself that you would never do that again.

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

You've Met With A Terrible Fate, Haven't You? || BEN DROWNED

Pairing : Yandere! Ben Drowned X Reader

Genre : Fluff, Angst, Yandere

Summary : Appears as a normal dude, but plot twist he's really not.

Wordcount: 4k lol

WARNINGS : This is fic is labeled as Yandere, for those who don't know what it means: "Somebody who is sweet and kind at first glance. But when it comes to their love (crush)they will act obsessive and violent." - Urban dictionary, poorly (but still disgustingly) described dead people, I know Ben originally doesn't kill but in the story he does, idk? Shit written¿ 

Also disclaimer this is my first time I've tried doing a yandere and it's obviously not my strongest point. Hope you enjoy either way.

You glance at the abandoned game console which your friend had dumped at your place earlier this day.

According to him, something was very, very, wrong with it. The Nintendo 64 was old, of course, but your friend mentioned not being able to pass the boss battle. He mentioned something along the lines of 'it keeps glitching and Link keeps dying'. In other words ' I know you're a hacker and I suck at this game, please hack it for me so I can feel less like a loser'.

You keep writing the email you're supposed to sent to your boss for another thirty minutes, before letting your curiosity lead you. 

Before you know it, you've plugged in the old console with more cables than originally planned because of how old it is, and with how modern your tv is. The first odd thing that strikes you is that there's only one account on it, and it's not labeled with your friend's name. 

Instead of 'Noah', it's labeled with 'BEN DROWNED' in bold passive aggressive letters.

Simply pushing it to the back of your mind, you start playing.

The second odd thing about the game is that the game has a specific date and it mentions how far BEN, or well, Noah is in the game. Yet when you click it, you have to start all over.

You shrug that off too, simply noting it as the game being old.

Before you know it, several hours pass, and you're finally at the boss battle Noah mentioned. Deciding to see if you can beat it first, you do not plug your laptop in at the Nintendo 64, and opt to play instead.

However just like Noah mentioned, you die as soon as you're close to winning and the game starts glitching.

It takes you barely ten minutes before you're fed up with it, and soon enough you plug your laptop in. You start up some programs and open up a few sites, quickly starting to work. Your fingers glide over the keys of your laptop as you type in the codes in order to hack the game, however after a few minutes, the game starts glitching heavily, and suddenly there's a sentence in bold red letters on the screen of your tv.

' YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE DONE THAT'

It says before the glitching becomes way too much, and some weird kind of red circle appears. Your eyes widen before unplugging the tv and game console, forgetting that your laptop is connected to it.

You miss the small glitches on the laptop screen.

- - - ᒪᓍᗩᕲᓰᘉᘜ - - -

He gritts his teeth as the access to his portal is suddenly denied, the power cut early enough to avoid him.

His red eyes wander in the green coded space, looking for an exit, something that'll make sure he can get his hands on whoever this is. Lucky for him, there's a small white space what'll lead to the outside of it.

Once he's trough, he realizes he's still close to his victim. In fact, he's even closer now.

He smirks as he realizes.

Killing her is fair game now.

- - - ᒪᓍᗩᕲᓰᘉᘜ - - - ᖴᓰᒪᘿ ᓍᘉᘿ - - »

You tap your chin as you look as the items on the shelf.

" Should I get the red one or green one?" You mumble to yourself.

" I'd recommend the green one. Green is always better." A voice from behind you startles you.

You whip your head around to look at the stranger who's talking to you.

Behind you is a male you don't recognise from anywhere. And as you start to study him, you realize he's quite handsome. He's got blonde hair, blue eyes and a rosy skin colour. He's wearing black ripped jeans, a dark green shirt, along with a black zip up hoodie, which is left open, he's got a few black ear piercings in his right ear, and has a gold chain around his neck, which disappears beneath his shirt, weighed down by a charm hidden away from your eyes. To top it all of, he's got a matching dark green beanie on top of his messily styled bangs.

" What? Did I say something wrong?" The blonde boy suddenly sweats.

You smile and shake your head.

" No, you didn't. I just tough I was alone here." You smile at him.

ØⱧ ₴₩ɆɆ₮ⱧɆ₳Ɽ₮, ɎØɄ Ⱨ₳VɆ₦'₮ ฿ɆɆ₦ ₳ⱠØ₦Ɇ ₣ØⱤ ₳ VɆⱤɎ ⱠØ₦₲ ₮ł₥Ɇ ₦Ø₩.

" I take that you talk to yourself then?" The male spits at you.

You're not sure if that's meant offensive or not.

" Um, yeah? I tend to do that sometimes yeah." You say, looking down at your hands who're still holding the red silk scarf and green silk scarf.

Đø₦'₮ ฿ɇ ₳₣ɽ₳łđ, ł ₩ø₦'₮ ⱨʉɽ₮ ɏøʉ. Øɽ ₩łⱡⱡ ł?

The unknown male's eyes soften subconsciously, looking at you with an emotion you're not familiar with.

" My name is Ben. What's yours?" 

Ben? Haven't you heard that somewhere before?

You smile at him, oblivious to the fact that you're talking to a killer.

" I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you Ben."

- - - ᒪᓍᗩᕲᓰᘉᘜ - - - ᖴᓰᒪᘿ ᓍᘉᘿ - - - » ᖽᐸᘉᓰᐺᘿS ᓍᖇ ᕼᘿᗩᖇᖶS ? ¿ »

His mind flooded with ideas.

There's so many options on what he can do to her.

Should he mess with her laptop?

Should he just kill her now?

Or should he become closer?

Maybe he should.

He looks at her trough the screen of the laptop, which is almost always open, today not being any different.

He watches her as while she watches something behind the laptop, from the sounds he can hear trough the mic, she's most likely watching tv.

Perhaps he should become closer to her.

Pull her closer only to have her blood staining his hands.

Oh yes, her blood shall soon become his.

- - - ᒪᓍᗩᕲᓰᘉᘜ - - - ᖴᓰᒪᘿ ᓍᘉᘿ - - - » ᖽᐸᘉᓰᐺᘿS ᓍᖇ ᕼᘿᗩᖇᖶS  ? ¿ » - - - ₭₦łvɇ₴

She doesn't realize it when her laptop suddenly starts itself up, nor does she know that there's a figure crawling out of it.

He stared at her with deciphering eyes, silently wondering how she isn't dead yet.

If this was anyone else, he'd had them killed already. Their blood would already be staining his face and she would already be screaming in pain and dispair.

Yet here she was, laying peacefully on her bed. Asleep, obviously not dead. 

He wonders exactly what he should do next. She doesn't know that he's standing right next to her. It almost makes him laugh.

She doesn't even know that he exists.

She doesn't know that he's here.

He glares at her before moving back into the world of codes and technology.

For now, she lives.

- - - ᒪᓍᗩᕲᓰᘉᘜ - - - ᖴᓰᒪᘿ ᓍᘉᘿ - - - » ᖽᐸᘉᓰᐺᘿS ᓍᖇ ᕼᘿᗩᖇᖶS  ? ¿ » - - - ₭₦łvɇ₴ - - - ᖴᗩᓰᒪ

" And then it suddenly started glitching and stuff. Weird isn't it?" You finish off your story as you look at your new friend, Ben.

After meeting in the grocery store, he had suddenly texted you. 

Not knowing how he got your number, you got concerned, and asked him. According to him, you had given it to him yourself. At first you didn't believe him, until he told you to check the time of his first message, which somehow was indeed around the same time you were in the grocery store. After that you just shrugged it off as that you forgot it yourself. After all, you knew yourself to be a person with the memory of a goldfish.

Today the two of you met up again, for the fourth time this week.

" Odd indeed. What did you do after that?" Ben asked, acting as if he's interested, even tough he's really not.

" I unplugged it. I think I'm gonna lay off hacking for a while." You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink.

Before he could even think of a response, there was an unknown woman at your table, also holding a cup of coffee.

" Y/N? Long time no see." The new woman greeted you with a smile, sitting down beside you on the booth.

Ben scowled at the newcomer.

Ⱨø₩ đ₳ɽɇ ₴ⱨɇ ₴ł₮ ฿ɇ₴łđɇ ₩ⱨ₳₮'₴ ₥ł₦ɇ ₩ł₮ⱨøʉ₮ ₥ɏ ₱ɇɽ₥ł₴₴��ø₦

" Hey, Sara. It's indeed been too long. How are you?" You started chatting with Sara.

Meanwhile Ben's anger only grew.

" My names Ben." Ben suddenly dryly joined your conversation as he slammed his drink down onto the table aggressively, looking straight into Sara's eyes.

" Sorry. Didn't see you there. I'm Sara nice to mee-"

" Yeah, yeah, whatever. Leave. We didn't invite you to come sit with us." Ben spat at her, looking at her with an intense look in his eyes.

Both you and your friend turned to look at him in confusion.

" Is something wrong with me being here? Did I offend you?" Sara asked, genuinely concerned.

Ben was fuming now, on the inside. Who does this girl think she is? First she comes to sit at their table uninvited, then she's capturing the attention of his new favorite plaything, and now she's questioning him? She has to go.

- - - ᒪᓍᗩᕲᓰᘉᘜ - - - ᖴᓰᒪᘿ ᓍᘉᘿ - - - » ᖽᐸᘉᓰᐺᘿS ᓍᖇ ᕼᘿᗩᖇᖶS  ? ¿ » - - - ₭₦ŁVɆ₴ - - - ᖴᗩᓰᒪ - - - ᖇᘿᗷᓍᓍᖶ SᖻSᖶᘿᘻ

He heard her conversation with a male he certainly doesn't know trough her phone, using the microphone without her knowing.

According to what he knows, they're on a date. And according to her contacts, his name is Jaime. He can't find where they met, nor did he know why they met up.

But now that she's checked her reflexion one too many times, and made a pic of her full outfit to send to him, probably to mock him for not having her, ɏɇ₮, he realizes that she's on a date.

After some research by surfing quite literally trough the internet. It turned out this 'Jaime' person was Mexican, and had a soft persona. On his facebook page were pictures where he's working with animals or doing volunteers' work or overall just something where he's helping others. He found the black haired male pathetic, weak even.

In all honesty, even he himself didn't really find him a threat. Not when he looked like that and was overall just kind and bambi looking.

However, all his expectations are thrown out of the window when he hears them say their goodbyes.

" You know, I had a lot of fun tonight. You're really a nice person. In fact, I'd like to go on another date with you again." This voice was definitely that of a male's, probably Jaime.

" I agree. I had a lot of fun too." She said.

₣Ʉ₦? ⱧØ₩ ₵₳₦ Ł₮ ฿Ɇ ₳₦Ɏ ₣Ʉ₦ ₩Ł₮ⱧØɄ₮ ₥Ɇ?

" Good. Do you have a ride or would you like me to drive you home?-" He blocks out the rest of their conversation.

It appears that the good guy needs to go too.

- - - ᒪᓍᗩᕲᓰᘉᘜ - - - ᖴᓰᒪᘿ ᓍᘉᘿ - - - » ᖽᐸᘉᓰᐺᘿS ᓍᖇ ᕼᘿᗩᖇᖶS  ? ¿ » - - - ₭₦ŁVɆ₴ - - - ᖴᗩᓰᒪ - - - ᖇᘿᗷᓍᓍᖶ SᖻSᖶᘿᘻ - - - ᖇᘿᗷᓍᓍᖶ ᑢᓍᘻᕵᒪᘿᖶᘿ - ᓍᕵᘿᘉ ᖴᓰᒪᘿ ∆

" We should spend more time together." Ben says randomly as the two of you snuggle on the couch.

You giggle, your ears tinting red.

" We're already together all the time tough." You tell him softly.

" I know, but still. By the way, did your stupid date reply yet?" He asked, eyes focused on the tv in front of the two of you.

" No, and don't call him stupid." You pout, softly scolding him.

₲ØØĐ

He grins at you with mysterious eyes.

You shrug it off, knowing it's part of him. The two of you have been hanging out for a while now. Almost three months to be precise. And you two have gotten very close. What used to be keeping distance and keeping the line between acquaintances and friends, had turned into friends or something more. You two almost hung out every day, you were basically attached to each other's hip now.

After a few peacefull moments, you excused yourself to the bathroom.

Right as you left, your phone rang.

He turned to look at the disturbing sound  his eyes widening at the name which is appearing on the screen.

 SARA

He stumbled over the couch to pick it up, an unpleasant feeling of suprise rising whitin him.

" Y/N?! You have to listen to me! Ben is not who you think he is! He's this-"

" I'm this what?" Ben smirked.

Damn you were taking a long time in the bathroom, not that he minded.

The other end of the line was dead silent.

" Don't worry. You don't need to say anything. I'll come home soon. And trust me, once I am, you will never be able to speak a word again." He spoke, an eerie calm in his voice.

" Goodbye, Sara." He said before hanging up.

" Sara called?" Your voice suddenly startled him.

" What? Oh, yeah. But she was in a hurry so she said she'd call you later." He smiled innocently.

You nodded and the two of you resumed watching the movie.

" Isn't there a way, that we could spend more time together?" He suddenly wondered out loud.

You sighed and turned to face him.

" I'm sorry Ben, but I have a job and I like spending time with other people too. So I'm afraid not." You told him softly.

An idea coded itself into his mind.

JɄ₴₮ ₮ⱤɄ₴₮ ₥Ɇ, ɎØɄ'ⱠⱠ ฿Ɇ ₥Ł₦Ɇ ₴ØØ₦

- - - ᒪᓍᗩᕲᓰᘉᘜ - - - ᖴᓰᒪᘿ ᓍᘉᘿ - - - » ᖽᐸᘉᓰᐺᘿS ᓍᖇ ᕼᘿᗩᖇᖶS  ? ¿ » - - - ₭₦ŁVɆ₴ - - - ᖴᗩᓰᒪ - - - ᖇᘿᗷᓍᓍᖶ SᖻSᖶᘿᘻ - - - ᖇᘿᗷᓍᓍᖶ ᑢᓍᘻᕵᒪᘿᖶᘿ - ᓍᕵᘿᘉ ᖴᓰᒪᘿ ∆ - - - ᕲᓍᘺᘉᒪᓍᗩᕲᓰᘉᘜ

You sighed in dispair in the night air as you walked home. Once again, you were rejected in a job interview.

A few days ago you were fired from the job you actually liked. You couldn't understand why either. You didn't do anything wrong, you were quite hardworking and always finished the documents in time.

Your supervisor looked afraid, terrified even when he told you to immediately pack your bags and leave, and ever since you just can't seem to get in anywhere. Not even the gas station wanted you in charge.

" Well hello there. What do we have here." A creepy voice suddenly sounded from behind you.

You turned around only to be greeted by a man with a creepy smile and even creepier, eye lid-less eyes. He was holding a knife, making his intentions obvious.

You didn't need to think twice about his intentions and whipped your phone out of your pocket with the intentions to call the cops and running.

The killer sadly isn't stupid, and has you on the ground under him whitin seconds.

Your phone's screen crack and slides to the other side, the dialed number not pressed on call yet.

" Don't cry sweetheart. It doesn't suit your pretty face. Don't fret, I'll make sure, you'll smile forever. " The killer tells you happily.

Both of you don't realize that your phone screen suddenly lights up in a green colour. Nor does either of you realize the figure crawling out of it.

The both of you don't realize, until the killer is off you and tackled down on the ground beside you.

" I've told you before. She's fucking mine. Go bother someone else." Ben's voice sounds suddenly.

You turn your head to look at him.

This time he does not wear jeans and a sweater. No  this time, he looks like he came straight out of a... Video game? He looks like Link, the main personage of the game which your friend Noah had dropped off at your place around six months ago. 

Ben never told you he was into cosplaying.

Your ears suddenly tinted pink as you realized, he called you his. Suddenly you felt a little giddy, the guy you like so much might actually like you back.

The killer underneath Ben growls out something you can't hear before throwing the shorter off him and leaving.

" Are you okay?" You ask him.

He turns to you with red eyes.

Red. Fucking. Eyes.

And that's not the only thing about his eyes that changed.

Instead of the usual white eyes have, his are now black.

And even there it doesn't end.

There's blood running down his eyes onto his cheeks, as if he's crying blood.

You take a step back.

What the fuck is this?

" Don't be afraid! I know I look a little... Weird, but it's all just part of my..... Cosplay." He explains.

You ponder over it.

He's never gave you a reason to not trust you right? Or did he? 

You ignore the instinct to run away from him, instead choosing to calm down and follow your heart, which is telling you to trust him.

" Come with me. You can stay at my place tonight." Ben tells you, holding his hand out to you.

You take it.

₲ØØĐ ⱠŁ₮₮ⱠɆ ₱Ʉ₱₱Ɏ

- - - ᒪᓍᗩᕲᓰᘉᘜ - - - ᖴᓰᒪᘿ ᓍᘉᘿ - - - » ᖽᐸᘉᓰᐺᘿS ᓍᖇ ᕼᘿᗩᖇᖶS  ? ¿ » - - - ₭₦ŁVɆ₴ - - - ᖴᗩᓰᒪ - - - ᖇᘿᗷᓍᓍᖶ SᖻSᖶᘿᘻ - - - ᖇᘿᗷᓍᓍᖶ ᑢᓍᘻᕵᒪᘿᖶᘿ - ᓍᕵᘿᘉ ᖴᓰᒪᘿ ∆ - - - ᕲᓍᘺᘉᒪᓍᗩᕲᓰᘉᘜ - - - ᕲᓍᘺᘉᒪᓍᗩᕲ ᑢᓍᘻᕵᒪᘿᖶᘿ ›

It took longer than expected to reach his house. The whole road to his house is creepy. Ben appartly lives in this supermodern house in the woods.

Which is off already, the woods are known troughout the whole town as mystery. According to urban legends, there's creatures loving in there who shouldn't exist. Because of that, there's barely any people there. According to Ben, everything is all clear and safe, and you trust him with your heart.

You don't question him after his answer and instead follow him into the,indeed very,modern little house which is situated hidden behind the trees.

You get directly hit in the face with a copper scent as soon as you step foot into his house.

" Would you like something to drink?" He asks you as you enter his house, neither of you bothering to take your shoes off.

" Just water please." You tell him as you study the place.

The inside of the small house is more modern than the outside, with a big living space and an open kitchen. There's also three doors in the hallway.

One to the bathroom, one leading upstairs and one leading into the basement.

" Here you go." Ben returns, handing you a glass of water.

" Thanks, aren't you going to take off your make up and lenses?" You ask him.

His smile fades a bit, and for a moment you think you've accidentally offended him, but he nods with a pout before you can think about it twice.

" Yeah, that's probably a good idea. The livingroom is at the end of this hallway, feel free to make yourself comfortable." He smiles before going upstairs.

You stand still for a moment in the hallway as an eerie feeling suddenly starts crawling up your spine.

You ignore it, and instead start walking towards the livingroom.

Until the sound of something falling reaches your ears.

A sound that is directed from the basement.

Your first idea is to call for Ben, to alert him that you two probably aren't alone.

You don't do that however, because it could just be something falling off a shelf, right?

And so you decide to investigate it yourself.

As soon as you open the door to the basement, you're directly hit in the face with a very prominent copper scent. The same on you already smelled when you entered his house, except it's way too strong and there's something eerily familiar about it which you just can't pinpoint.

You silently push the door open, and turn on the lightswitch to the basement. Behind the door is a stony staircase, the rest of the basement is hidden away behind a wall. Curiosity takes over you, and you make your way downstairs before you can think about it twice.

As soon as you near the bottom, you spot blotches of red. The deep red substance is spread like a trail from he bottom stairs onto the rest of the room.

And then it clicks in your mind. It's blood. That's also the smell in the air. Was the intruder injured?

You step down the stairs while following the blood trail with you eyes.

You stumble back in fear and unpleasant suprise at the sight that greets you.

There's dead people down here. Most of which you don't recognise, but a few you do. 

You gasp as you look into a pair of wide blue eyes.

Sara.

She's sitting there, eyes wide open, with cuts all over. There's big ones in her rib case and near her organs, you can even see Intestines spread over the floor.

She's obviously dead.

But how come she's here?

Ben didn't do this? Did he?

Next to her is Jaime, who's eyes are closed but his chest is rising and falling.

He's alive.

You run over to him and shake him awake, not minding the blood that's now on your hands.

" Jaime! Please! Wake up!" You say desperately, tears now escaping your eyes.

" Y/N? Y/N! You have to get out of here. Ben, he's not who you think he is!" He tells you desperately.

" I'm not leaving you! Can you walk?" You ask him trough your tears.

" I'm chipped Y/N, you have to go. Get help. Ben's insane. He's a de-"

" Demon? Mass murderer? Failure? Dead? Is one of those what you wanted to tell her? How dare you lie to her! I'm none of those!" A voice suddenly booms trough the air.

You turn around while starting to shake. Jaime tries to hold you close to him with the little strength he has left. There Ben stands, still with red pupils and black eyes, dried red streaks still on his cheeks.

" Don't fucking touch her." Ben screams angrily, ripping you all but gently away from the male, causing you to tremble against him.

" Don't be afraid my love, he won't touch you again." Ben sushes you.

Is he really thinking that you're afraid of him?

" N-no. Let me go. Do-don't touch me." You tell him, pushing away from him.

He looks confused by your behavior.

" What's wrong baby? Please don't believe whatever lies he told you.-"

" What lies?! That you've killed my friend?! That you've killed these innocent people?! That you've chipped him?!" You yelled.

" They all deserved it Y/N! They're all in the way of our love!" Ben yells back desperately, stepping towards you.

" I don't even know these people!" You say, stepping back into the wall, knocking into a shelf.

You turn around to see what you knocked into.

Wait, is that the Nintendo 64?

" They all stared at you with sick twisted ideas! They really do deserve it." He tells you.

Suddenly it clicks in your mind.

" You're Ben from the game." You state.

He nods.

" Yes bu-"

" How?.."

" You clicked my game onto your computer remember."

" It was you wasn't it? You're the reason I've lost my job. You're the reason my friends all turned their back to me." You wishper, eyes now gathering in your eyes.

You've been so incredibly fucking stupid.

He's the reason your life has turned down the drain.

" Yes. But it's good right. Now we can finally be together." He says like a crazy man in love.

Which he is.

You start sobbing as you fall onto your knees realizing, all these people here. They've all died because of you.

" Hey, don't worry my live. We can now finally be together."

ɎØɄ'VɆ ₥Ɇ₮ ₩Ł₮Ⱨ ₳ ₮ɆⱤⱤŁ฿ⱠɆ ₣₳₮Ɇ, Ⱨ₳VɆ₦'₮ ɎØɄ?

 ᘜ ᗩ ᘻ ᘿ  ᓍ ᐺ ᘿ ᖇ.

[nervousmendes]

Unsent Part 1 - Shawn Mendes

shawn x reader

a/n : so I'm finally back afer a really long break and I've been so excited to edit and post this one. I should also mention that is my first time writing angst so please be kind. any feedback would be much appreciated!

warnings : none, just 1.5k words of amateur angst and heartbreak

find more of my work : masterlist

It was a pleasant Saturday, the sun was long gone and the moonlight that spilled through the window was just enough to relax you while you worked on your research paper. Doing a PhD was never easy, and now that classes were going on in full swing, you were almost convinced that it was impossible. Your days mostly just consisted of you going to classes, working on essays, trips to the library and maybe watch a little Netflix before you hit the sack. It was a routine now, and you were always used to this life. You found your calm in the chaos whenever you could talk to your boyfriend who was touring somewhere in some city across the ocean. With your time zones never matching and him constantly traveling it was impossible to keep up with his schedule but you both did your best to stay as connected as possible.

When tour first kicked off, you missed Shawn so much. You hated the distance and you spent hours on end talking to him on facetime, blowing kisses and whining about wanting "virtual cuddles". It was a nightly ritual for the two of you to facetime immediately after his show, and since he was still in America at the time, it was easier to find a way to talk when you were both free. Even when you'd be too busy looking into your laptop screen while he was performing for thousands of excited teenagers every other night, there was some kind of warmth, some affirmation, that at the end of the day it was always going to be the two of you together until forever. Even though the physical distance made you sad, your relationship with him never seemed to burn out. Your love for each other was always so strong that the thought of being apart from each other never threatened your relationship.

But things shifted with time and the routine facetime calls went from after every show to every alternate show and then to every few days. You'd only text each other once or twice a day and it always felt like it was just for the sake of it. Sometimes you would go about your entire day and only realize before going to bed that you hadn't thought of him or spoken to him once throughout. You now knew more about him through his Instagram stories than you did from what he told you about tour. The quick ‘I love you’s exchanged before hanging up felt more mechanical than natural. Of course it hurt you, it made you feel guilty and made your heart ache at the same time, but you knew deep down that he was feeling that way too. It's not like he remembered to text you every single day either. It now turned into a subconscious competition of who would start the conversation first. Every text was thought out, typed, backspaced and rephrased. It felt like you didn't know each other as well as you once did. You would overthink not knowing whether a read receipt would do or a reply would be more reassuring. Everything seemed different, and not at all in a good way. As much as you hated to even think of it, a part of you felt that maybe you didn't love him anymore but your heart would never let you admit that.

You often went to bed not feeling sleepy at all, replaying all the memories from the initial stages of your relationship. The giddy first date, the awkward first kiss, the butterflies, the cheesy gifts and all the sneaking around. It felt like you were both different people back then. And maybe you just grew up or grew out of it, but does real love ever fade away? Does it suddenly empty itself and leave a void in your heart? How does it just make everything go away? You always thought, no you knew that he was the one. You still remember eighteen months ago at the fair, when he went down on one knee holding a huge stick of cotton candy in his hand, asking you to be "his honorable girlfriend until the end of time" and promised to never break your heart, you kissed him with everything in you right outside the Ferris wheel knowing in your heart that you already kind of wanted this forever. He had always been the one.

You both appreciated the little things, it was kind of what built your relationship with him. The reassuring glances from across a crowded room that made you uncomfortable, the hand around your waist when a distant friend would be “too nice” to you or the way his fingers played with your hair after a long, disheartening day were some of the many things you loved about your relationship with him. You always felt the need to be physically connected to him and it was almost common knowledge that Shawn's love language too was touch. You desperately missed the way his hand would automatically lace with yours while you walked together and the warmth it spread in you when his hands would go to the back of your neck to leave a tender kiss to your lips. And when one of you had a rough day, the other would kiss the stray tears away and you would both hold each other so tight until your ragged breaths would slow down and your hearts would beat to the rhythm of each other's pulse. All of that now felt like a distant memory, it was like you had him and lost him at the same time. Everything you once had with each other slipped right through your fingers. You would kill to go back in time and figure out anything you could've done differently to give this all a miss because the thought of even having to talk about the collected weight on both of your chests physically pained you. What if this was over? And even if it's not, what if there's nothing left to give? How were you going to go on knowing he's not yours anymore? While you learnt to live a life without him, you never once forgot that he would come right back to you. And now maybe he won’t and there’s nothing you could do about it. So many questions and so many thoughts ran through your head as you were still staring at the text you received about five minutes ago.

Hey I landed sometime back. On my way to Pickering. See u tomorrow?             - Shawn

No “babe”. No “honey”. Nothing about the movies he watched on the flight, or the occasional "Omg we're SO watching it together". It was a plain text just to keep you informed. Mechanical. You thought back to the last time he came home from tour, when he first showed up at your door and pushed for you to come spend the weekend with him and his family in Pickering. Gone were those days when he'd ring you up as soon as he had service on his phone again to tell you how tiring the flight was or how much he hated the food, and on hearing that you would order his favourite pizza before he got home. You read and re-read the insipid words on your screen and after a lot of thinking, with a doubtful mind, you typed out a simple response. 

Yes. Hope your flight was okay, get some rest tonight!

After humming and hawing for long enough, you hit send and patiently waited for the thumbs up he left under your text as an instant response. His lack of interest in continuing the conversation did sting, but you quickly pushed it away considering the fact that you were going to meet him the very next day and he’d clearly already had a tiring flight back to Toronto. You shifted around, pulling your blanket closer up to your face and just as you turned away and closed your eyes, the screen of your phone lit up again.

We need to talk, don't we... - Shawn

Shawn sat in his car parked outside his childhood home, right leg bouncing unconsciously and staring intently at the text he had just sent. He patiently waited for it to go from 'delivered' to 'read'. But it didn't. His bouncing leg was now shivering and the words he regretted typing out were staring right back at him. His fingers trembled over the screen, and with a shaky breath he unsent the message without giving it another thought. He took his bags and walked up to Karen and Manny at the door smiling widely as he silently thanked technology for saving him. But little did he know that your eyes were on the screen of your phone as you read those nauseating words under his contact name, and then watched the pop up disappear a minute after.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

I'm already working on part 2 and I can't wait to post it soon!! hope you liked this <3

dm me or reply to get added/removed from my taglist.

taglist : @theregoesmyherojd @shawnmendez @mendesficsxbombay @madatmendes @samaratheweirdo @mendesassemble @vinylmendes @ghostofjuls @shawnsreputation @amateurwriter27 @shawnblrficawards @shawnsprincesse

[runicmagitek]

Hello there! Thank you for taking the time to read this. I've long been an admirer of your work. I was wondering if you had any advice on writing? Especially for someone just new to writing? Or, like, in regards to outlining stories?

Why can’t I give hugs through the internet why. Thank you so much for such sweet words and I apologize for the wait. I spent the past couple of days concocting some writing advice for you and it turned into a thing. Hope it’s worth the wait!

I want to preface this: below is my writing process. It works for me. It may not work for all writers and I highly encourage others to figure out what does work for them. It took me several years to come to this conclusion, so don’t be discouraged if everything doesn’t click for you. Writing takes time to develop and we all learn and create differently. Try things out and see if it’s beneficial.

Also, while I know you asked specifically for writing and outlining tips for beginners, I am including editing tips. A lot of people might view writing and editing in a different light, but I believe that they go hand-in-hand; getting used to editing will help you become a better writer and vice versa. I know countless people who bang out stories and then let the drafts collect dust, because editing is daunting.

Lastly, a massive shout-out to my partner-in-crime, beta reader, and braintwin—Amie @wingsyouburn . She helped contribute to and refine this and is also a brilliant writer and has helped me become the writer I am today. Endless thanks to you, bb!

On that note, let’s jump right into this.

OUTLINING

I can’t write without some vague idea of where I’m going. It’s like having a map with you on a road trip; you might deviate from your route along the way due to pit stops or traffic or simply wanting to go the scenic route, but you at least know where your end goal is. And it can vary depending on what you’re writing. If I have a oneshot idea, maybe I jot down a sentence or two about the plot, usually with a “problem” and then a “conclusion”. For example: Character A is doubting herself and decides to vent to Character B, who offers comfort and kisses. Sometimes I jot these down if I have an idea hits me at work or in line at a café. You can always refer back to it later on. Filling in the blanks of said outline is where the fun of writing comes in!

Even for my drabbles, I will write very brief sentences of what I imagine would happen. It helps me stay concise and stick to that main point instead of meandering.

For longer pieces, I try to write out each scene I want to include. Some people I know do this by writing on notecards. I used to make a bullet list, but now I use Scrivener to map outlines. With a bullet list, you can do it like this:

Scene 1

Scene 2

Scene 3

Scene 4

It doesn’t need to be extremely thorough. Just get those ideas out of your head and onto paper. You can always go back and switch up the order later and if you don’t entirely know what would happen in a scene, but for example, you know the end result? You can easily write something like, “a bunch of shit hits the fan and then the gang run off into the sunset.” Maybe when you start writing, you’ll have a better idea of what shit hitting the fan includes. And when you do figure it out, go back to your outline and make a bullet under that particular scene with the details. I’ve done this plenty of times. Hell, I have an outline for a 200k story I did where the last 1/3 of the outline just never happened in my draft. A better idea came along and I went with that. And that’s ok!

Your outline is there to help you and not hurt you. It’s flexible and bare minimum, when you’re done with a story, you can look back on it and see how much you’ve evolved since your initial idea.

WRITING

Consume art. Read. Read some more. Keep reading. Watch a movie. Go to a museum. Take a walk at the park. Listen to music. So many things inspire people and the tiniest instances can spark an idea for a story. Always be open to them. Figure out what you love and what you don’t. Consume both of those. Inspiration can come even from genres we don’t particularly like. Don’t be afraid of something new. When I was in art school, we were required to take non-major studio classes. I ended up in a weaving class, filled with other textile students when all I ever knew was graphic design. I learned a tremendous amount in that semester to carry over into my graphic design work and I’m sure my peers learned a lot from me, too. That concept carries over into so many creative fields. Embrace that.

Also, if you’re the type that benefits from reading books about writing, here are some A+ resources:

On Writing by Stephen King

Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott

Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg

No Plot? No Problem! by Chris Baty

The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron

Zen in the Art of Writing by Ray Bradbury

Take care of yourself first. This tip simultaneously has nothing and everything to do with writing. For me, I have a handful of health issues. I work a full-time job. I have a ton of other hobbies that eat up my time. Before I write, I need to make sure I’m doing well before I even bother to sit in front of my laptop. I can’t be overly stressed out or in pain or distracted. Sometimes you need to calm down and relax and not write. I can’t focus otherwise and the few times I did write when I clearly shouldn’t have? It was evident in my writing and thus triple the amount of editing work. I know it’s stressful not being able to write. Trust me… I’ve been there numerous times. But I believe that in the long run, you’ll be happier with yourself and your writing if you learn to treat yourself with respect and not beat yourself up when you’re unable to write every waking minute.

Set times to write and then do it. Some people might have inspiration strike them and that’s the only time they write. Yes, that can be helpful, but there’s also something to be said about developing a schedule and sticking to it, even if you’re not motivated. So you’ve done everything mentioned above: your tummy’s full, no one is around to bother you, you got a delicious cup of something beside you, it’s your favorite weather outside, and you’re in your favorite chair. But you’re staring at your monitor and just… uuuuuugh you don’t feel motivated. You know what? Fuck it. Just write. Write something. Anything. 75% of my writing was done out of the sheer willpower. Write! Even if it’s a page, so what?! That’s a page more than what you initially started out with! Squeezing in some scribbles on your lunch break every day can add up by the end of the week. Those 30 minute sessions are suddenly 2 ½ hours!

Again during my art school days, I would be up until 4am trying to do 40 posters in time for the morning’s critique and I’d be on those last 3 poster designs and I was tired with no inspiration and ran out of fucks at 11pm, but I pushed through. You know what? My teachers and peers alike loved those 3 designs I did at fuck-this-shit o’clock. I’m serious. Every single time.

Start writing and never look back. This is your time to write. Not to edit, not to try and craft the perfect sentence Of All Time. You’re writing. You are word vomiting whatever nonsense is in your head. It’s a first draft. It’s going to be messy. It’s probably going to be shit. Who the hell cares? That doesn’t mean you or your writing is shit. Everybody, even the most seasoned writer, doesn’t write a perfect first draft and you can’t fix what isn’t written. So write, write, write! Smack your inner editor each time it tells you to go back and edit a paragraph. Disable your wifi if you think you’ll get distracted. For me, I put on some quiet, ambient music to drown out the world and go into Scrivener’s full-screen mode. I highly recommend checking libraries in your area if you want some quiet time. The librarians are also way more than happy to show you where designated quiet/study areas are if you’re not sure.

Write what YOU want to write about. Don’t write something just because it’s popular and that’s what everyone else is doing. Do it for yourself first and foremost. It doesn’t need to be for everyone, but let it be for you. It will show tremendously in your writing if you’re excited about a thing. Likewise, it’s beyond evident if you’re bored with a scene in your story. Write about what excites you and I promise your writing will display that excitement. On the same note, if you’re stuck on a scene and just don’t know what to do with it, move along. Maybe that scene isn’t needed. Skip to the next, more interesting thing. Write the story you want to read.

Incorporate your experiences. The expression “write what you know” gets tossed around with the assumption that people will go, “Ooooooh, yeah that makes sense.” Think on all your life experiences and draw upon them. You may not be the commanding officer of a prestigious military, but maybe you’ve been in a group project in school where someone needed to step up as leader in order to get shit done in time for the oral presentation. Remember your emotions during times of struggle, elation, anger, and sadness. Channel it into your writing.  

Write in chronological order. Some people have mastered the art of writing that one middle scene they’re super stoked about or writing random scenes out of time and then stitching it together later. I am not one of those people. For a beginner, it might be less daunting to write everything in chronological order. That way you can build up things like character development/growth and tension and so forth in a natural way via passing time. If you start writing a scene where the main pairing finally kiss, but don’t write the ten chapters leading up to that, it’s a lot more difficult to flesh out all that tension in one scene when you hadn’t written it yet. I’m also of the opinion that it’s better to write all the things before that One Scene you’re giddy about; it can speed up the writing process because you want to arrive at that One Scene, so hey, anything to motivate you, ya know?

EDITING

After I wrote my first novel draft after years of not writing, I had this massive feeling of, “…shit, now what?” For every single guide to editing, there’s a hundred more for writing. Editing is an extremely personal process. It took me over two years before I became comfortable with editing my own work. Let’s be honest – it’s terrifying. And I wish there was a more concise guide about it when I first started, so hopefully this helps.

I edit in rounds. My first round involves just reading, no editing. I keep a journal to take notes, mostly plot, characterization, redundancies, and cuts/additions I’d want to make. My second round combs through it to fix those bigger problems along with any glaring grammar/spelling errors and mild line edits. I will send it to a beta to read after that for additional commentary/suggestions. My third round addresses all of that on top of hardcore line edits—I want every damn sentence to be the best version of that sentence ever. One more time it goes back to the beta to nitpick the hell out of it. And my last round is spent reading what I wrote out loud. If my tongue trips over anything, I change it. Apply some spit and polish, give it some lunch and a backpack, and then off to AO3 it goes to make some new friends.

Maybe you edit in less or more rounds. Maybe you have more rounds of sending content to beta readers. Maybe you need to rewrite the whole thing three times before it ever sees a beta reader. Do what feels good to you. Only you will be able to figure it out and you won’t know until you try. I promise once you get your feet wet and test it out, you’ll feel more confident about your writing over time.

Here are some more specific tips that no one ever bothered to tell me until after the fact. These might be overwhelming for a beginner, so don’t feel the need to master these immediately. Take it one step at a time and try them when you are comfortable doing so.

Walk away from it. After finishing a first draft, let it sit. Go do something else and forget about your draft. For oneshots, I’ll go back to it after a week. For longer pieces, anywhere between 2-4 weeks. Returning to a draft with rested eyes and a fresh mind will only benefit you in the editing process. You’re still two inches away from your work when you finish the first draft. Walk away from it, come back, and then you can see more, whether it be the strong points or the holes.

Describe what is happening, not how something looks/sounds/feels. I’m sure you’ve heard of “show, don’t tell.” First off, fuck that noise when writing the first draft. Tell to your heart’s content if it means getting it on the damn page. Second off, sometimes telling can be helpful. That’s up to you to decide if it’s beneficial or harmful to your story. I typically go about “show, don’t tell” in the editing phase. Now most people will give this advice and not further explain. So here’s an example:

She was mad at him for once again not doing the dishes.

That’s not a terrible sentence. Though it to make it pack more oomph, take a step back and think. When you’re mad, what do you do? Are you clenching your jaw? Are you grumbling to yourself? Is a headache forming? And when you imagine dishes not done, what does that look like to you? Is it flies swarming around a sink? Is it overflowing from the sink? Is the sponge sitting in five day old water and reeking of mold? Is there a broken dish on the floor because a cat decided to knock it off from the stack of twenty uncleaned dishes? With that in mind, the sentence can possibly be rewritten like this:

Countless plates and silverware wobbled on one another, each encrusted with a previous night’s dinner. She drew a breath, balled up her fists, and glared at him. “Really? I gave you one job.”

Find your descriptions that are comprised of the character feeling or seeing or hearing something and reword them. Breathe life into your words. Make them paintings. I know, it’s not easy. It might even break your brain a little (mine did when I first gave this a serious go), but it will make you think differently and your writing can only grow from that.

Rephrase weaker words. I once had this assignment back in high school where we were given a hundred sentences, each one with “get” in the mix, and we had to rewrite all of them with a unique word replacing “get”. Find words like “get” and forms of “to be” and replace them with stronger words. Something like he got out of bed can turn into he rose out of bed or he jumped out of bed or he slumped out of bed. It rids the sentence of something weak and is more descriptive of what’s going on.

Another thing to look out for are verbs ending in “-ing”. She started walking over or she was walking on over aren’t as direct as she walked over. Trimming out instances like this help make the action more immediate instead of feeling like it’s going or starting or beginning to happen. Just let it happen!

Adverbs are another instance that people will suggest to cut out. They’re at least easy to find (most end in –ly) and when you do spot them, ask yourself this: is there a better word to sum up what I’m trying to express? Something like she said quietly can be she whispered or she murmured or she mumbled. Or something like they ran quickly can be they rushed or they sprinted or they booked it. These all can help get a better idea of what is going on. Plus it can help strengthen your vocabulary by searching for more ideal words!

If your vocab is shaky or you just can’t pinpoint something better, here’s a resource I use all the time. Just remember: always double check the definition of the word to make sure it fits instead of spinning the thesaurus wheel and picking at random.

Lastly, don’t feel the need to go on a witch hunt to purge your story of all of these things. Sometimes it’s best to keep that use of “to be” or that adverb, because there isn’t something better to convey what you’re describing or it distorts the flow of the narrative. And that’s completely okay. It takes time to figure this out.

Cut out redundancies. I tend to overwrite in my first drafts. Editing is where I bust out my figurative chainsaw and kill the extra nonsense. Is there a phrase you keep using over and over? Kill it. Is there a section you read that just bores you to tears? Kill it. Is there a sentence that is proceeded by a paragraph that rephrases that exact sentiment four times? Kill it. Is the process of something we as human beings understand, like opening a door, a three-sentence-long affair? Kill it.

I love poetics in stories and sometimes it can get out of hand. The more concise you are in your delivery, the clearer of a picture you will paint for the readers and the smoother the overall pacing will be.

Never delete. So with all of that in mind, please, for the love of tea and chocolate, never ever delete your work. Doesn’t matter if it’s a conversion from a first to second draft or if you end up hating it, don’t delete it. You never know if you’ll return to it five years down the road or you need to refer back to something from your initial draft when you’re on your third wave of revisions. I keep a folder dedicated to all of my writing on my laptop, which is also backed up to Dropbox. In Scrivener, you can take snapshots of your work for each new draft you start and can always revert back to older snapshots. There’s also an actual editing mode in it, but I believe it’s exclusive to Mac OS. Or if you’re using something simple like Word or Google Docs, make new documents and title them based off of your drafts. Another thing to consider is making a document strictly for lines you love but weren’t able to include in the final version. Don’t get rid of them – keep them. Maybe you revisit it and find a new story for it to fit in or perhaps that lovely line of yours sparks a new story to write. You won’t know if you delete your work.

CLOSING THOUGHTS

Make writer friends. Writing is a solitary activity (well, not unless a pet decides to keep you company, but anyways). Having friends who are also writers or even enthusiastic about writing are a blessing. Bounce ideas off of them or vent to them when you hit a brick wall. Maybe said friends will turn into beta readers when you wish to cross that road. My recent writer friends are people I chatted with on comments with fics, either my own works or their stories. You don’t need to be friends with an entire fandom; find those you resonate with. I’m sure they’ll love gushing about things as much as you do.

And if you ever converse with someone who acts above you and everyone else in regards to writing? Fuck ‘em. They are not and never will be worth your time or anyone else’s.

Keep writing. Like any form of art, writing’s a craft and it will only improve the more you devote time to it. There’s always room for growth. Be humble. Accept change. Allow yourself to learn. I guarantee you that your writing will change for the better in the span of a year if you keep at it. Don’t worry about it being perfect or if it’s telling the “same story” someone else has written—you haven’t written your version of it. You haven’t added your personal touches and experiences and insights to it. Think of how many times Romeo and Juliet has been done in storytelling. People eat it up. To use the cake analogy, you might feel like you’re bringing another cake to the party when there’s already one, but others look at it and go, “FUCK YEAH TWO CAKES!” Lastly, I’ll leave you with a quote from the eternally badass Carrie Fisher, “Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually the confidence will follow.”

You got this, anon. I believe in you.

[hotdamnvoltageman]

extra shot

kota igarashi x mc (misaki kasagi)

a/n: so idk if anyone even remembers this series exists, but if you did: ta-dah!!! basically, coffeeshop!AU fics are always longer than my standard fics, so it took more time than i expected, and coupled with my sudden rise in popularity in the slbp fandom it took even longer — but i did it!! and here we are!! thanks to everyone for their support <3 also thanks @oh-well-this-is-awkward for encouraging my coffee pun titles, and @jemchewreadsfanfiction i warned you ahead of time~

(also, can you tell i really love the mc’s canon bff rina from the app? because i love mc’s canon bff rina.)

Misaki glances up from the till, her eyes catching for the umpteenth time that day on the stranger in the back right corner.

She shouldn't call him a stranger, really, she thinks, furrowing her brow. He comes in at least once a week, and has been for almost two months now.

She just doesn't know his name. Or anything about him, except that he likes video games (judging by the stickers on his MacBook), sitting in corners away from the windows, and lots of espresso.

Lots and lots of espresso.

She hurriedly looks down when his eyes flick up from his laptop screen, his gaze both confrontational and curious. She stares at the lazy circles made by her damp rag on the countertop, pretending to be engrossed in her work.

One other thing she does know about the stranger: he has quite the sharp tongue, and he's not afraid to use it. He gives off the air of being constantly irritated, gaze (glare) shifting like a cat's, chin high despite his pale gray hood being pulled resolutely up at all times.

Despite all the scowling and hiding in the corner, though, he's actually not bad looking — and he always leaves good tips, which is a point in his favor as far as Misaki and Rina are concerned. His voice is nice, too, from what little she's heard of it. She imagines it would sound nicer if he'd stop seeming so angry all the time, or reply with more than one word answers.

Misaki glances up again and is saved from his piercing glare by Rina, who comes swinging through the front doors with a little wave and a plastic bag hung over her wrist.

"Lunch is served!" She chimes, setting the bag down on the counter in front of Misaki.

"I'll take register. You go eat before you wither away," she jokes, poking at Misaki's ribs. Misaki shies away from her friend's touch, swatting at her hand and laughing affectionately.

She almost, almost forgets the pair of eyes glaring daggers into the back of her head, and hastily retreats into the back to hang up her apron.

She picks a table along the back wall with just one chair (her usual lunch spot) and digs hurriedly into her lunch. She overslept and didn't eat breakfast (unless orange juice constitutes as breakfast, which, she thinks, it might as well with the amount she drinks), and the second she smells food she's ravenous.

And then she feels the eyes on her again.

She glances up, and there's the sort-of-stranger, eyeing her almost suspiciously. She smiles a little, offers a small wave with her chopsticks still in hand—

He turns abruptly away and back to his computer, rapidly typing away. She frowns at him while he's not looking, and resumes her lunch at a healthier pace, conscious of her actions so as to not attract his glare. When she feels his eyes on her again, for whatever reason, she stares resolutely at her lunch, ignoring him. It's easier said than done, considering she keeps fumbling her chopsticks due to her anxiety, but she pretends to be absolutely caught up in her own world.

"Hey," says a familiar and somewhat angry voice, and she drops her chopsticks like an idiot as she jumps in her seat.

She looks up, and there's the stranger, standing at the other side of her table where there is no chair, glaring down at her.

"Hi," she blurts, then, composing herself with a smile, "Is there something I can help you with?" His expression shifts, just slightly, so he looks less angry and more confused. Altogether, he looks disgusted, and she has enough of her wits about her to feel almost insulted.

"Are you busy?"

"Not at the moment," she replies, as clipped as he had been. Surprise flashes in his eyes, but, instead of speaking, he pushes her lunch to the side and sets his laptop down in front of her. She winces as the chair he grabs from the next table over bumps along the floor.

"Um—"

"Have you ever played a video game before?"

She blinks, but his expression denotes nothing but absolute seriousness. A small part of her, buried beneath all the confusion, wants to laugh at the question. Instead, she nods.

"Yeah, I've—"

"Good. I need you to beta test this for me," he whips the laptop open as he speaks, typing rapidly for a few seconds before turning it to her. She meets his eyes, realizing that this is the first time she's been this close to him without taking his order. His bangs fall slightly into his eyes, which are a lighter shade of brown than his hair — he's actually really pretty now that she's getting a good look at him, and his jawline—

"What, are you dumb or something? Stop staring at me," he snaps, and she immediately rears back on the offensive.

"I'm not dumb! I just zoned out." The stranger blinks, color still high on his cheeks then mutters something under his breath as he looks down at the table.

"What was that?" She asks, forgetting that he's still technically a customer, and he snaps his gaze back up to hers.

"I asked if you were gonna play or not, space alien," he quips, and she furrows her brows.

"'Space alien'?"

"Because your head's always up in space! Just, play my game already!" She opens her mouth to snap a retort, then remembers that she's in her own cafe and probably shouldn't go insulting her customers. She takes a deep breath and looks down at the computer screen.

“Your game?” She asks, and he sighs, long-suffering.

“Yes. I designed it.” Despite his tone, he looks proud, almost fond, and she smiles. That explains all the game stickers and why he’s always on his laptop. She looks away before he can criticize her for grinning again.

The controls, typed in a standard white font, hang on the black screen before her. From what she can tell, it seems to be an adventure-based game, and she hopes that there are no sudden scares to send her careening out of her seat as she presses 'start.'

The game is fun, she has to admit, but she doesn't get far before the timer on her phone warns her that she only has five more minutes on her lunch break. The stranger gives her a curious look, and she turns the alarm off.

"My break is ending. Sorry—"

"I'll save your game," he cuts in, turning the laptop back to face him.

"Name," he demands, voice too flat for it to be a question.

"Misaki," she replies. Then, after a moment, she extends her hand. He snaps the laptop closed and looks from her to her hand, seemingly unimpressed, before returning the handshake at the last moment.

"Kota." He stands, sweeping the laptop under his arm. His fingers leave warm trails on her palm when they pull away.

"Thanks," he says, an afterthought, then turns away. She watches as he walks out the door, leaving her sitting, stunned, at her table.

Rina pesters her for details as she ties her apron on in the back, after.

"His name is Kota," she says, looking at the table he has occupied. "He has warm hands."

Rina rolls her eyes.

He comes into the coffeeshop the next day, orders a cappuccino with two extra shots of espresso (she's concerned for his heart), and, as she's passing it to him, does something unexpected.

"Thanks, Misaki."

It takes her a moment to realize that, one, that's her name, and, two, he's talking. To her.

And not in a mean way.

"No problem!" She chimes, a little hasty and with a too-big smile. She wants to slam her head against the countertops. Repeatedly.

She doesn't, simply because there's nobody but her and Rina working.

Her lunch break is delayed thanks to a midday rush at the coffeeshop, and she collapses into her usual seat as soon as she possibly can.

She's about halfway through her bento when a shadow falls across her table. A glance up reveals Kota, laptop tucked into the crook of his elbow, staring down at her with one eyebrow quirked just slightly.

"Care to sit?" She asks, voice calm if only because she's too tired to be nervous.

Something close to a smile works its way into the corner of his mouth, and he pulls the chair over.

"I opened your save file," he says, turning it to her. She can't help but notice there are new items in her inventory.

"I—"

"Those are items you would have earned in your last run." She nods, pleased with his explanation, and continues on her way.

She gets killed twice by the same enemy, and her phone alarm goes off as she slams her head (gently) against the table.

"In the finished game, you can work in a party to beat a boss like that. I didn't think you'd get that far." She's almost offended, but when she looks up at him he's smiling.

It's attractive enough to make her forget her words, so she just shrugs.

He stays a little longer that afternoon, but eventually he leaves, and she can't help but feel a little disappointed.

They repeat the same routine for almost two weeks, and Kota's seat moves around the table until he's at her side, watching her movements. She's surprised to find it doesn't make her nervous to have him there. Rina digs for information in the evenings, when they're supposed to be resting, gushing about "the way you two look at each other" until Misaki slaps her with a pillow to shut her up.

She refuses to let herself think that there are feelings involved, even if Rina says she's lying to herself.

(She's definitely lying to herself.)

When she finishes the game, Kota nods his approval, and he smiles at her as she gushes excitedly about her victory, even going so far as to take his hands in both of hers. He doesn't seem to mind, which is surprising, but also it's something she doesn't notice in the moment. There are a million thoughts running through her head and it feels like all that espresso he downs is running through her own bloodstream.

Her alarm goes off and she's back behind the counter, still jittery with glee, and Kota glances back from the door as he's leaving.

There's a moment, small, where her heart stalls and his eyes catch and they stand mere feet apart, and yet he seems completely out of reach.

Someone else comes to the door, and he looks away as he slips out, quickly disappearing from view.

He stays away for a week. She tries not to think about it too much, but she knows her smile falters every time she looks up at the door and finds someone else walking in. Rina tries to stay positive, but even she is confused — they had made progress, hadn’t they? Misaki would have almost called them friends, or just short of it, anyways.

She shakes it off, and lifts her chin high. If he isn’t willing to put in the effort then, well, he’s just not worth it.

But the heart wants what it wants.

One week soon becomes close to two before she sees him again, and the circumstances are nothing short of strange.

It happens like a scene out of a movie — she can see him just out the window, and he's running with his laptop tucked under his arm and his hood up, face tinged pink. The door swings open, the bell jingles loudly, and he stares straight at her as if they have a problem to sort out.

(Which is ridiculous, she thinks, indignant and confused. If anyone has a right to be glaring intensely at someone, it's her.)

She raises her eyebrows at him and smiles.

"How can I help you?" She asks, voice cold, polite, void of genuine emotion, and he has the decency to look at least momentarily shocked by this revelation.

"When's your break?" He asks, and it's so strange, to hear him talk just the same way after disappearing for a week and a half. She glances at the clock by the door.

"Fifteen minutes," she replies, and he almost slams his card on the counter.

"Large iced americano, extra shot," he says, already digging out cash to put in the tip jar. She casts glances at him, but can't for the life of her place why he seems so nervous.

She shrugs it off, hands him his receipt, and almost walks away before he says,

"I have something to show you."

His voice is softer, as if he feels a little guilty, but then he walks away from the counter — directly to her lunch table.

She wants to feel offended, or angry, but she just feels confused. He takes his order a minute later without a word, going straight back to his laptop.

Her break rolls around once he's about a third done with his drink, and she hesitantly joins him at her table.

"So," she starts. "You had something to show me?"

Her heart hurts when he looks up at her, because there's a light in his eyes that never used to be there when he looks up to nod at her, and she wants to ask why he left like he did — why he just abandoned her so suddenly. She knows it's nonsensical, feeling the way she does, but she can't help it; she likes him.

She likes Kota.

And she'll admit that, for a moment, she thought he liked her, too.

He turns the laptop to face her, but remains on his side of the table, gaze fixed on her face, as if to gauge her reactions. Her heart beats so loud she can hear it in her ears.

The game on the screen looks like a simple 8-bit style RPG, like an older horror game. She's surprised, to say the least — it's a complete departure from his last game.

"This is new," she remarks.

"Just play," he replies, but it lacks its old edge. She glances up and his cheeks are tinged red, and he averts his gaze to look at his drink instead of her.

The main character of the game is a girl with brown hair kept up in a bun, ugh like her own, and he already made her a save file under her own name.

But then things get even stranger.

As her character walks through town, she encounters a coffeeshop terribly similar to her own — out of curiosity, she sends her inside.

It's so accurate it's freaky, actually. Every table is in its rightful place, down to the chairs stationed there. She glances at Kota, but his eyes dart away from hers again, almost done with his cold press.

The game doesn’t seem to have much of a purpose, that she can see. She walks around the coffee shop, exits it, and finds almost nothing in the surrounding world of the game. None of the other buildings can even be accessed, so she returns to the coffeeshop in the hopes it will give her some answers.

When her character approaches the till, she has the option to buy a drink. Even though she hasn’t done a single thing, her character has money — so she buys a drink out of curiosity. She takes her character to the ‘usual’ table, the only one not occupied by stock characters, and starts to ask Kota what all this is about—

Another character enters the scene. A character that looks suspiciously like him, gray jacket and all, that item-drops a chair across the table from hers and produces a little cup of coffee, too. There are no dialogue options, even when she hovers the mouse over his character — but when she clicks, a little speech bubble appears above his head.

There are no words in the bubble, just two symbols: a heart, followed by a question mark.

She may or may not almost fall out of her chair when she glances up to find Kota staring her down, the tips of his ears bright red and his cheeks similarly pink.

“Um—“

“I didn’t have a lot of time,” he interrupts, redder by the second, and she furrows her brows.

"Kota?"

"Do you like movies?" He asks, suddenly, and although she's taken aback she's quick to respond.

"Yes. But what—"

“The new Joe Watabe movie is coming out this weekend. We should go.”

There’s a pause, and she isn’t even sure if she’s breathing anymore.

“Together. Us.” His face has, somehow, gotten even redder.

“Like a date?” She asks, before she can stop herself, and if the floor were to swallow her whole in this moment she would be extremely grateful. Kota looks as if he feels the same way, but the only indication of it is the blush on his cheeks — his expression remains stoic as always. She looks down at the screen again, where the little heart and question mark still hover on screen, and presses her lips into a thin line.

“This was stupid,” he suddenly grinds out, and snaps the laptop shut. The chair scrapes back, and her heart skips a beat — her fingers are twisted up in the fabric of his sleeve, and she’s preventing him from leaving before she can think of what she’s doing.

“Wait, Kota, I…” She bites her lip, suddenly embarrassed under the scrutiny of his gaze. When she speaks, her voice is softer,

“I’d like that.”

The clouds over his face suddenly lift, and he smiles. She’s never seen him smile like that, all soft edges and gentle, and it makes her heart flutter. He slips his hand into hers, and it’s still surprisingly warm, and everything is so different from what she expected — but she’s far from disappointed.

“Saturday?” He asks, and she’s too caught up in this new side of him to do anything but nod her head, dazed.

He’s dazzling, that’s it. He’s dazzling when he smiles. And he just keeps smiling—

The alarm on her phone goes off, and as they both look at it on the table he suddenly stops smiling, flushing bright red and retracting his hand awkwardly. It’s endearing, in its own way, how the way he suddenly tries to duck a little further into his sweatshirt, holding his laptop close to his side and looking off to the side. She almost, almost laughs, but she doesn’t want to wound his pride.

He notices her smile anyways, and fixes her with something she can only describe as an affectionate glare.

“What are you smiling for?”

“You’re cute,” she teases, just because, and he turns impossibly more red but also more serious. The set of his jaw is suddenly tense, and she starts to think of how to apologize for running her mouth—

Except she doesn’t have time to, because suddenly he’s kissing her and every train of thought goes flying off the rails into oblivion because, oh my God—

He pulls away, looking almost reluctant before smirking triumphantly at the look on her face; she can feel her cheeks burning and she wants to be angry at him, but…

She just can’t be, when he looks like that.

“See you Saturday,” he says, and leaves her just like that, shell-shocked.

“Oh my God,” she hears Rina say from the counter, echoing her own thoughts, and Misaki whirls around to find her best friend staring at her, having obviously seen everything.

“Not a word!” Mistake hisses, making for the counter as fast as she’s able. Rina doesn’t speak, but the grin on her face says it all and it makes her flush with embarrassment and anger.

But even so, her thoughts drift to Saturday, and, inevitably, Kota — and she can’t keep the grin off her face.