#Idk I know it's my fault for not eating but still feels so strange to me that I blacked out that severely that suddenly

[stillfruit]

it's so difficult to articulate the feelings i get when i see my friends engaging in healthy and good behaviors like asking for emotional support and taking the time they need to arrive because i just can't and i know i'm wrong for it but it still feels incredibly isolating

[tojivu]

# OFFICE HOURS ‣ GOJO SATORU

✰ — author’s note i feel so guilty bc gojo is literally the only character i write for LOL anyway this is an old draft from months ago. idk why this is so long im so horrendously down bad for this fucking snowman.

✰ — cw / tags arrogant ceo!gojo x secretary f!reader, sfw, not rly enemies to lovers bc gojo has fat feelings, gojo satoru being a billionaire playboy

✰ — playing death & taxes by daniel caesar.

✰ — word count ~3k LOL

nothing about gojo satoru really strikes you as the serious type.

even in a professional environment, your boss always has a carefree demeanour. his laugh is so nauseatingly loud that you can hear it from outside the office, and you wonder how someone as busy as him manages through his day; much less with a positive attitude. you take one look at his schedule, and you want to vomit with the way you hardly see any gaps between appointments.

you suppose you could learn that from him. it's his only good quality.

you admit that he's likeable, on surface level. there's a reason why you detest him, though: as his closest colleague, you know him way more than you would prefer. most people would think such a well to do man like satoru would have a wife by his side, but that's unfortunately not the case. you almost feel more miserable than him—because now you're forced to be the listening ear and comforting hand at his beck and call.

you think he'd be just fine if he was just a little more humble. he has a nice face. it's his fault for being so stuck up. you know how many women ask him out—painfully aware, actually.

'they just aren't suited to my taste,' he would say to you. 'i need someone that makes me feel alive.'

one time, gojo even asked you to bail him out of a date—something about the way she held her fork and knife disturbed him, and you were expected to show up at the restaurant and act as if there was an emergency.

'i'm so sorry, sweetheart. i have to go, duty calls.' his disgustingly charming tone made you want to slap him then and there.

she called him again the following week, and he completely forgot who she was. he didn't even save her number.

the sheer number of people asking him out had stroked his ego so hard that gojo firmly believes no woman is deserving enough. he rambles on and on to you about how snobby some of them seem, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue when he does. 'takes one to know one,' you would say, if not for your job at stake.

you think gojo satoru is full of himself. you are a strong believer of that. a witness, as well—it's not like he didn't try his way with you, too. unlike the women he ranted about, you turned him down every single time.

it's been a long while since any of that has happened, though. the most recent ordeal was months ago, but that didn't inherently mean that people stopped asking him out: it just meant that he was rejecting every single offer.

it's a thursday morning when you find yourself eating a sandwich you purchased on the way to work, at your desk—wondering when the big boss will finally arrive. the clock read 9 a.m., and you're expecting an extravagant "good morning!" to surprise you any moment now.

just then, you notice mr. conceited walk in: except something is different. he has no stride in his step. there was no good morning. there was no playful teasing directed at you as he walked past your desk and into his office, not that you were complaining—it was just strange.

you stand up, a mouthful of your sandwich still being chewed. you take a big sip of water and fix your skirt and blouse, making sure your hair is presentable—before swiftly making your way into his office.

──────

"i cannot believe this." he mumbles. you're standing in front of his desk, but he's not facing your direction.

gojo's chair is turned to the giant window that overlooks the business district, and he's gazing out of it thoughtfully. you think this is the cheesiest thing you've seen him do.

you can see how disheveled his hair was, even from where you were standing. you don't want to irritate him further, in case teasing you was still on his to-do list that day.

"what is it, mr. gojo?"

he swivels his chair around, and he is a mess—just what could have he been up to?

"i woke up late today."

"you're the boss, mr. gojo. you can come in any time you want—"

"not the point." he interrupts you. "i forgot my lunch. i was in the car, with the driver, on the way here already. . . and then i realised i left my donuts at home."

gojo's face is absolutely distraught. he looks like he's gone through a divorce and had his house set on fire with how he stands up dramatically—his hands now on his desk. you open your mouth to speak, but he shuts you up by talking again.

"i didn't want to inconvenience him. i'm too thoughtful, miss y/n."

you want to scoff, but you bite your tongue and hold back.

"so i got out of the car and ran back for it," gojo recounts. "i arrived home after the treacherous journey—only to discover that my donuts are gone."

you feign an expression of shock, just to humour him; he gives you an 'i know right' look, and continues his nonsensical story.

"the maids threw them away, miss y/n."

you can't help yourself: you let a small giggle slip through your lips. you quickly use your hand to cover your mouth, thinking of a quick excuse.

you cough. you pretend to, at least—but gojo satoru is not stupid.

no, maybe a little. though, not enough to be convinced of your terrible acting.

"nothing about this is funny."

you nod, looking down at the floor. "i apologise, mr. gojo, but it's just a few donuts. i'm sure someone in the office could fetch some for you."

"yes, i agree." he says, and you shift your gaze from the marble tiling of his office to his face. his hair is a mess, yes—but he still looks revoltingly handsome. his eyes are piercing through yours, and pieces of hair cover his face in just the right places.

you're staring a little too long and gojo finds his pulse quickening with the eye contact—but the spell he has you under is soon broken when he clears his throat.

you quickly look away, embarrassed that you were caught staring at your boss, by your boss.

"you'll pick some up for me, yeah?" his smooth and silky voice echoes through the empty space of his office.

you look at him again, and there's a gentle smile on his face; one you're all too familiar with.

you're aware of satoru's charismatic nature, his playboy-ish attitude, and all sorts of tricks he uses to make women fall head over heels for him. that didn't mean you were completely resistant to them, though—you find yourself playing with the sleeves of your blouse, your ears beginning to redden. "of course," is all you manage to say.

at least you were self-aware.

your mind was rational. should gojo satoru try to hit on you for the nth time—all it took was some self discipline to say no, and you'd like to think you had plenty.

you think the conversation is done with the way he doesn't speak another word, so you turn on your heels and make your way out of the office.

just as you touch the handle of the door, your boss adds: "i'll come with you."

you turn back to him, confused. you didn't need your boss babysitting you for a donut run, you knew his favourite flavours—it's all he ever insists on buying for lunch. "there's no need for that, mr. gojo."

satoru shakes his head in disapproval. "you don't even know my favourite flavours, miss y/n."

that was a blatant lie. he knew you knew. you were his personal donut grabber for a few months up until august, and it was only october. you suppose that it would've continued on if not for your complaints about the long lines in the morning.

nevertheless, you don't argue with him. gojo satoru was the type to get what he wants, when he wants, if he really wants it.

you smile at his disregard for the months you spent as his errand runner, and how idiotic the excuse he just used was. satoru knows he's lying through his teeth, and your smile makes him more nervous than your eye contact.

so nervous, in fact, that he takes back what he just said. "unless. . . you're fine by yourself."

you're surprised that gojo's confidence is dissipating, or that it could even fade at all. you can tell with the way he's avoiding your eye contact, exactly how you evaded his earlier—the red on the tips of his ears are much too obvious in contrast to his hair.

"i don't mind," you respond a bit too quicker than appropriate. "mr. gojo."

gojo curses himself mentally, thinking about how stupid he must sound. he's usually the one making people nervous, but he doesn't know why it's different when you look at him like that.

──────

the atmosphere is deafening in gojo's favourite bakery. you always knew he had a sweet tooth, so you expected his choice to be a spectacular one—and you weren't disappointed.

you had personally visited this bakeshop before, and the confectionery was truly as good as people made it out to be; it proved evident in the amount of people crammed into this small establishment. though, you can't tell if it was for the food or for your boss, with the way most pairs of eyes are turned in his direction.

you two spend a good five seconds looking at the menu before gojo states his order, which was exactly what you thought it would be—the lady at the cashier smiles a bit too long at satoru, before asking: "eating in?"

you want to open your mouth to say something, but he beats you to it. "of course."

it was still very well your work day. he (or maybe you and him, considering you helped him plan seventy percent of his appointments) had a meeting in 3 hours to prepare for. you think this donut adventure is already unnecessary enough—but here he is, suggesting to waste even more time eating the donuts in the bakery itself.

"we have a meeting in a bit, though. you could eat it in your office."

he looks at you with a confused look, as if he forgot that there was a meeting at all—because he did forget. gojo gasps, turning back to the lady and retracting his previous statement.

──────

gojo eats his donuts agonisingly slow and no conversation is initiated.

you're alternating between staring at both your laptops and the swirls on the wooden desk, unable to say anything because you didn't plan for such an occasion: an eating donuts with your admittedly handsome boss that makes you nervous while simultaneously planning for an important meeting occasion.

"miss y/n, you should try some."

you shift your eyes from the table to gojo, and he's holding a small piece of his donut to your lips: the powdered sugar practically calling your name.

"it's fine, i ate earlier," you decline his generous offer. "you should eat."

"i'm not asking you to eat all of them, miss y/n." he smiles at you. "just a bite. it's really good, y'know."

you sigh, reaching for his hand to take it from him—but he swiftly pulls it away and shakes his head. "open your mouth."

you feel the tips of your ears burning, blood rushing to your cheeks and you wonder how the girls he takes out manage themselves when he's like this—you've worked with him for so long, yet you can't recall a time when his gaze wouldn't make you shudder.

you think you'd stutter if you spoke one more word to him, so you save yourself from the embarrassment and bare with his request.

he feeds you the piece of sugar-coated donut, and you're sure you have powder on the corners of your lips with how it's width barely fits into your mouth.

you chew and swallow, feeling the residue of sugar on your skin.

"do you have any tissues?" you ask him, a serious expression plastered onto your face.

gojo tries to suppress the chuckle itching to escape his throat—the sugar on your lips and cheeks catch him off guard, and after a few seconds he can't help but let a small laugh slip. you stand up from your chair, scanning the room for any boxes of tissues you could lay your hands on.

he stands up as well, shaking his head—still giggling.

"it's not funny," you frown, and the smile on his face only grows wider—you're too cute for your own good when you sulk. "stop laughing."

you're not sure if you want to punch him or let him giggle to himself. for some reason, seeing you embarrassed is a great cause of joy to him. you can't bring yourself to tell him to shut up; you always imagine doing just that, it's strange how you couldn't muster the courage just when you needed it most.

"it's quite funny," gojo's laughter eventually calms down.

he leans closer to you and his right hand gently holds the side of your jaw—he uses his thumb to gently wipe the sugar off your cheek, and then your lips. "i got it."

his thumb stays on your bottom lip after dusting the sugar away. his pupils are locked onto the surface of your lips, which were glossy in the harsh light of his office: they looked so soft.

before long, they trail up your face until he's looking directly into your eyes: and this time you're not nervous, you don't look away, and your heart is completely calm.

satoru's fingers are easy on your skin. he handles you like fragile glass, as if he doesn't want to break you: and it's the same for the way he looks at you. gentle.

you're reluctant to speak because the way satoru has his thumb on your bottom lip sends shivers down your spine. you feel breathless.

you don't want this feeling to leave, not just yet.

a few seconds of tension pass. his hand moves back to your jaw, and your nervousness returns when gojo satoru leans his tall figure even closer to you; his head tilting ever so slightly.

it's a random thursday morning when you discover a few more good qualities gojo satoru possesses: his lips and his hands. maybe the way he kisses, too—it's slow and precise, unlike his attitude. he tastes sickeningly sweet and it makes you want to savour this moment even more.

you promised yourself you wouldn't fall victim to gojo satoru. yet, you just can't pull away: instead finding yourself slithering your arms around his neck and your chest pressing against his.

gojo's hands are wandering down to your waist and he's desperate to have you as close to him as possible, showing in the way he tries to close the already small gap between you two.

it takes only a fraction of a second for a small thought to form in your mind: just how many women have been in this position?

you quickly forget about that thought, though—you think it's pointless to regret it now, gojo satoru kisses you too good to be full of remorse.

gojo thinks he could stay like this: kiss you all morning, afternoon and pay you overtime if it meant he could be this close to you for just a bit longer.

there's hints of neediness in gojo's touch—as if he'd been waiting for this forever, wanting to relish it before it ends. his few seconds of bliss don’t last very long though, because you're soon pulling away—gasping for air.

he sighs mockingly, his hands sliding down from your waist to your hips. "can't last longer than 10 seconds, miss y/n?"

of course he would say some cocky shit like that—you'd forgotten for a minute that this was the same, arrogant mr. gojo you always knew, and no kiss (however heavenly) was going to change that.

"i'm sorry that i don't go on dates with every man that breathes."

gojo smirks at you after you say those words. "come on. just because i go on dates with people, doesn't mean i kiss them like this."

"sure you don't." your jealousy shows a bit too much in your reply, and he finds himself smiling even harder.

"is someone jealous?" he teases you again, rubbing circles with his thumb against the flesh of your hips.

you feel flustered, knowing that you're definitely done for now—he saw right through you. "nobody is jealous, mr. gojo."

"stop it with the formality. just call me satoru."

"it's still office hours. it's only polite."

gojo rolls his eyes, sighing in the process. you grin a little at him, knowing that this was the first thing you denied him of today—complying with the donuts and the kissing was already spoiling him enough.

"then i suppose there's only after work," there's his nauseatingly charming voice again—low and smooth. he knows exactly what he's doing to you, and you know it too. "i'm off after 6."

you think long and hard about whether you want to be mean and add this to the list of things you've declined to do for him. the ratio was starting to get really unbalanced—but you remember the way his hands touch you and how his lips greet yours so lovingly: and you think that there's no point turning back now.

"my boss doesn't let me off until after 8, though." you try to poke at his buttons—you put on a fake pout, knowing you’ll accept his invitation anyway—but gojo satoru is eternally patient when it came to things he sincerely desired.

"fuck your boss." he says, "he'll be fine with it."

you laugh at his response. you never thought you would see the day gojo curses at himself, after all, he's so self-obsessed: but you suppose you've seen—and tasted—parts of him that you never knew existed.

"then i'll see you at 6, mr. gojo."

what was the harm in discovering more?

230323 — i kinda hate this but.. wtv… anyway i couldn’t be bothered to proofread have my brainrot of gojo in a suit Mmmm yumyum

[moonswolfie]

Could we get Bokuto and 19? 🥺🥺🥺

Bokuto x gn!reader

But ofc!! Idk if u knew this nonnie but bokuto is my favourite boyo💕💕 i'm always happy to write about him🥰🥰

Time to prove to him that even his faults can be loved😤

His teammates often tell him that he's too loud, childish and irresponsible. He always feels compelled to deny it, but his teachers say the same thing. Even his parents scold him for that sometimes.

So then it must be true, no matter how much he defends himself.

In volleyball, being too loud isn't much of a problem and even excites the crowd a lot, but something like math class is a different story.

"Honey, you're too childish and irresponsible for a relationship." His mom hummed from behind the kitchen counter when hearing Bokuto whine to himself about still being single. All she got in reply was a sad groan.

Do these parts of him make him that horrible? He already had a bad day at practice today and then the boys basketball club leader decided to taunt him about still being single. Being reminded of his "bad traits" wasn't helping in the slightest.

He slowly got up, going into his room to sulk.

"I think that was too harsh, darling. You know how he is, he'll take your words to heart." His dad worriedly glanced at his mom while chopping the vegetables.

"You're right, I should have phrased that better..."

.

So he found it quite surprising when one day you, one of his classmates, approached him out of nowhere during a break.

"Hey, ummm, I'm in your class, but we don't know eachother very well." You started, fiddling with your fingers. It took a lot of convincing from your friends to even get you here, but there's no way back now.

"OOOH! I remember you!! You sit in the second row!!" He had no idea what you wanted, but it was always nice to talk to someone new.

"So, I'd like to get to know you better..." you looked into his eyes with hope. From what little you did know about Bokuto, he was very outgoing and excitable. So hopefully this goes well.

His eyes widened. "Eh? I mean, yeah, sure!! Of course!!" His face quickly returned to his usual excited expression.

"So!! I'm the coolest ace of the coolest volleyball club in Japan!! But you probably already knew that..." he started. What a cute self-introduction.

"Yeah, I went to your matches before..." you really hoped that your blush wasn't showing too much at that moment.

"REALLY?!"

.

After that day, you made it a habit to talk to him. He got to know many things he would have never guessed about you and his smile grew every day as your initial shyness dissapeared.

He grew increasingly close to you, to the point even his teammates pointed it out. He never noticed how he acts "different" around you.

But now that he thinks about it, he keeps reminding himself to speak more quietly and watch his mouth around you. That's quite strange, since he prefers to be his unfiltered self and tries not to be bothered by what others say.

Then why is he being subconsciously careful only around you, a person who never voiced their discomfort for his loudness or irresponsibility?

"Honey, you're too childish and irresponsible for a relationship."

No way.

Those words replayed in his head over and over. There's no way he's actually in love with you, right? You're just so amazing and beautiful and- UGH!

But if what everyone around him says is right, then that means he has zero chances with you, right? Ohhh, this is making him feel all sorts of sick...

Maybe google can fix this.

"Hey, bro. Come to dinne- What are you doing?" his sister's reaction shifted to one of worry when she found him laying on the bed, staring at the volleyball in his hands with a strangely solemn expression. Googling "how to get rid of your crush" did nothing for him since he doesn't want to distance himself from you.

"...Nothing."

"Are you having one of those mood swings again?" his sister sighed. "Come on, just come eat." she pulled him off the bed and he silently joined her for dinner. His family didn't question him all that much, already being used to his often times unstable mood.

Besides, they figured he needed space. Usually, a little "you're awesome" would work well in brightening his mood but instead of cheering up as he usually does he just hummed sadly, contuinuing to shovel at his food.

He himself hadn't expected those feelings to hit him like a truck. First love was supposed to be a cute, sweet, uplifting feeling...

.

"Hey, umm, Koutaro, I have to tell you something... Can you come with?" you asked one day out of the blue. The two of you were already on a first name basis, surprisingly you really clicked with him. Which made his little crush all the more bothersome.

He kept stuttering over his sentences when you smiled at him so sweetly, his heart swelling at the little things you remembered about him.

If only he wasn't so annoying and childish...

"I- Uh, sure!" he let you lead him off to a more private area, wondering what awaits him. You sounded nervous, like back when you first asked to get to know him. This could only mean something bad, right?! Or is he just overthinking it?

Since when does he do that, anyways?

"So... I kind of have a crush on you..." you looked down, too afraid to meet his eyes, missing the way his eyebrows raised and eyes blew wide.

"YOU LIKE ME?! You really like... me?" he almost couldn't believe his ears.

"Uhh, yeah.. I do." you yourself were a little surprised at his response. You thought for sure that Bokuto would just get really hyped and accept. Well, if he liked you too in the first place.

"Even though I'm loud? And childish? And irresponsible?" he asked in quick succession. What? How would those characteristics of his affect your feelings for him?

"Of course? I like you, even the less favourable parts." you smile at him happily. You think you know why he brought that up now. Judging by the amount of times the teachers scold him for those very things, he must think they're an annoyance and a hinderance to you.

You misjudged him, it seems. He lets things get to him more than you thought. Not that that's an issue at all.

"Ohhh, this might be my second favourite feeling in the world..." he said, relief evident in his tone as he hugged you tightly.

"Only second favourite?" you questioned, hugging him back.

"The first one will always belong to the feeling of a successful spike, of course!!" he squeezed you so hard you thought your bones might break.

"S-So, is that a-"

"Yes, yes!! A million times yes!! I'll be your boyfriend, your husband, your f- ANYTHING!"

oops i accidentally made it mutual pining and WAY too long bo bo tends to have that effect on me🌚

[lunarsun12]

Mingi Rebellion - Part 4/4

Masterlist

Previous Part

After Mingi sudden death experience from San. Seonghwa decided to have a talk with Mingi, as himself wanted to found out what Mingi like this, he would done it earlier. He thought Mingi was having a phase and will get over it.

When Seonghwa heard Mingi story, he encourage Mingi to share. To put everyone as ease.

What is Mingi real reasoning, to replace Yunho as a friend?

Back at Ateez Chat

Today 20:00

Seonghwa🌸: Mingi tell the rest of the family of what you told me

Mingi🦄: It wasn’t San, who made me turn against Yunho. It was someone else, they were threatening me. They said if they see Yunho protecting me again. They will expose Eomma!!

Seonghwa🌸: Seriously if that Lee Know Person again. I will for real will sue him!!

Mingi🦄: Idk who, but the name sounds familiar. This dude really has beef with Eomma

Yunho🐶: Mingi! You did this to protect me?

Wooyoung🐈‍⬛: More like himself…

Mingi🦄: Yunho! I am sorry for being horrible to you! I’m scared they will hurt Eomma!

Jongho🍎: What about me? I am also the victim here!

Yeosang🍗: Where is San? Me and wooyoung need to apologise to him!

Wooyoung🐈‍⬛: Who said I will apologise!

Yeosang🍗: Just apologise to him! I can’t believe I am saying this, if you make up with San. I will make sure San will never need that turtle again

Wooyoung🐈‍⬛: You gonna join our gang!!

Yeosang🍗: Temporarily! Let’s say I will be supervisor and the boss in our group

Wooyoung🐈‍⬛: Fine…I will let you have this role! Cause this is golden opportunity!

Jongho🍎: Don’t make me repeat myself!

Mingi🦄: Sorry Jongho bro, I was scared okay! I thought you were about to strangle me as you put hand on my shoulder

Jongho🍎: Hey! I wasn’t trying to hurt you! Am I that scary?

Yeosang🍗: I don’t blame Mingi. Every time you put hand in his shoulder. It always lead to him go splat on the floor

Seonghwa🌸: Jongho not now, I will sort you out later. Let Eomma deal with this and maybe your Appa. If decided to be useful

Hongjong🏴‍☠️: Update San is back to normal! He is now playing with my mix set

Yeosang🍗: Appa can me and Wooyoung come over? We wanted to apologise and as well Wooyoung wants to put things straight

Hongjong🏴‍☠️: Hold one let me, go home. This is too much children in my studio!

1hour later…

Hongjong came in door with San. Who is happily eating some Tanghulu in his hand.

Hongjong: San remember what I told you

San: Yes, I don’t get angry when someone said bad stuff. If I feel something strange, I will come to you and Eomma. For that smelly spray

Hongjong: Alright, go find Yeosang and Wooyoung. They are looking for you

San gave a tiny nod, enters his room and saw wooyoung and Yeosang with their face facing the wall sitting on the swivel chair. When they heard San come in, they turned around in unison well sort off. Yeosang tripped on Wooyoung’s feet, which lead to him bumble a bit.

Wooyoung: Yeosang! You ruined our thunder!

Yeosang: Not my fault you have big feet!

San was staring at them whilist holding his food. Still confused what is going on.

San: Why are you guys? Sitting like you want to interrogate me?

Yeosang: Wooyoung, what do you say to San?

Wooyoung: San, I am sorry for being horrible about your new pet. I was upset you didn’t treat me like before and I wanted to be close like we used to

San: Toby? Toby, is my therapy pet. Eomma said if I start to feel angry. I have to hug him

San: I was angry, as you kept on ditching me to okay with Binnie without me

Yeosang: So once again, wooyoung is the culprit

Wooyoung: Yah! I thought you were mad at me! And liked to be alone

San: I only said it, so you feel sorry for me!

Wooyoung: Wait what are we fighting for in the first place

San: I don’t remember really!

Wooyoung: Let’s be friends!

Yeosang: Well looks like the misunderstanding is cleared! Now if you excuse me let just check on Yungi

Yeosang, was halfway through leaving. Wooyoung and San gave each other a smile and immediately interlink their arm. Yeosang knew what is coming

There was a loud scream from Yeosang. Seonghwa and Hongjong merely shook their heads, as they knew this always happens when Woosan got someone.

There was a knock on a door, opening to Jongho looking sad…

Previous Part

[trans-axolotl]

tw for discussion of disorderly eating + physical impacts of eating disorders + internalized ableism.

also been spending a lot of time processing that it's most likely that my eating disorder directly caused some of my new diagnoses. i spent a lot of time very physically unwell, went through refeeding syndrome, and had a lot of physical complications. and my doctors are pretty sure that that period of malnutrition created some new physical + mobility issues and also exacerbated and worsened existing issues, and probably caused everything to sort of collapse the way it did this year. and there's just...so much ableism and negative messaging and blame already attached to eating disorders and such a widespread idea that it is our fault (somehow we are both the monster and the victim who needs to be saved from ourselves by any means necessary). i feel an intense amount of shame that my eating disorder caused my chronic illnesses. i go to unpack that shame and i think about what it would to think about my own disabilities in neutral terms, to think about gaining disability not as tragedy or as loss but as change, transformation. still making room for my very real grief, the fear i've been feeling, the pain and exhaustion. unpacking where that shame lies--is becoming disabled something i truly need to punish myself in that way for? who is telling me that? what have i learned about shame and from whom? what messages about productivity, normality, and functioning have i internalized? what are ways i can think about my eating disorder as something other than something i need to blame myself for? how did carceral eating disorder treatment impact the way i think about my eating disorder? how does recovery rhetoric tie into ableist myths about productivity and capitalism?

and i think it's been hard, partly because it feels like there's a real lack of discussion about becoming disabled due to an eating disorder, both in my disability justice circles and in my eating disorder circles--even though so many of the people i know with eating disorders have become physically disabled because of their eating disorders. the amount of people i know who developed gastroparesis and osteoporosis and heart issues and lifelong alterations in the way our body works. and yet it still feels like something strange or that i have to be secretive about, when people ask me about my illnesses.

this is mostly me rambling but one of my goals for 2024 is to be gentler with myself, and to treat my eating disorder and new diagnoses with curiosity. i want to be able to think and talk about this in a way where i don't need to justify or hide that this was caused by my disorderly eating, in a way where i can reject ableist myths that feel so very loud right now. idk. it's been hard and it's been scary but it's like my last post said, i am so grateful for disability justice because it's at least helping me see a path forward through a lot of murkiness right now.

[dyslexic-mess]

I have a strange relationship with tiny humans because, on the whole, I don't like them. They are noisy and always sticky and usually smelly, and they don't know how to be a human yet, so you gotta be really patient with them because it's not THERE fault that YOU, a grown up, never learned to emotionally regulate. You just have to give them the space to feel their feelings and guide them through it. However long that takes.

If you're responsible for one, you're basically at there becon call because they don't know how to survive being an alive thing on their own yet. In fact, a lot of them are pretty AGAINST doing the things that keep them alive.

Me: you need food

Kid: I don't like any of the food >:( (they do. They'll eat what's on your plate)

Me: it's really sunny. You need a hat and suncream

Kid: I don't want a hat and suncream!! >:( (they don't think it gose with their outfit, so begins the long prossess of convincing them that dinosaur caps are the coolest of accessories)

Me: you need to drink, it's really warm today

Kid: I don't want to drink!!!! >:( (they don't want to stop playing long enough to drink. Now ya gotta find a cup with a straw so they hydrate as they go)

Me: it's really cold today, you need a coat and boots

Kid: I won't get cold!!! >:( (they will. Thus the conversation of 'well, why don't you just carry it? You need boots, it rained. Don't you wanna splash in puddles?' And all that)

Me: its time for you to wash, your filthy

Kid: I WANT TO KEEP THE FILTH!!! >>:((( (I still don't understand this one but I have sacrificed many a bath bomb and glow sticks and bubbles and setting up my projector in the bathroom in the name of getting a child to wash. Baths just hit diffrent if it looks like a rave in there, I guess)

Anyways. Yeah. Not a tiny humans fan. EXEPT. if that tiny human came out of someone I like OR, (And this is why it's odd) that tiny human has asked me to teach them something.

One of the outside children saw me hanging out with my ukalayle in my favourite spot by the river the other day and was like ':O!!! Can I have a go????' And suddenly, I am full of endless patience and fondness for the tiny human. Like. Apsolutly I can, wanna learn to play twinkle twinkle!? Yeah, I have a spare. If you promise to be careful with it, you can borrow it to practice. Aw, you broke a string? That's okay, I have more :)! Don't worry, there just nylon strings, I broke alot when I was first learning! Of course I can teach you more later!

Like. Idk. It's like some nurturing spirit just possesses me, and suddenly, I'm a kid person.

Anyway, this is getting long. The point is that I don't like kids. Exept for when I do, and I can not tell you how that works.

[greyves-under-fire]

In the waiting room outside my therapists' office, it's now 36 minutes past when she usually calls me in. 37. I think it happened again, where it didn't show up in her system that I'm here, and she's letting her other client stay late. That's okay. They probably need it.

38. It's been a weird couple weeks. Lost my closest friend of ten years two weeks ago, but we had been lost for at least a year. and we weren't each other's closest friend anyway. we were just the ones that stuck around, and replaced the attention we actually wanted most.

40. I'm tired. The grief is so strange. It's just that twinge when you enter a situation that ends differently than it did before, simply because they're not a part of it. It's been ten years, starting in second grade. We gained consciousness at the same time, but that feels like the only thing that kept us together. I was always kind of a shitty friend. I could be the best, and I could be such a dick. But I was a kid. I was a kid who got fucked up. I can't keep apologizing for that.

42. 43. This is a weird feeling. She's gonna feel so bad when she comes out and realizes that I've actually been sitting here the whole time, and I don't know how to tell her that it's really okay. I've spent the last 34 minutes letting writblr break and heal my heart, and I feel okay. I do. but my chest is starting to ache. I addressed the grief, so I don't know what else I was expecting.

Of course it hurts. every birthday, every Christmas, every Valentine's day after my family stopped sending gifts to my school for me, she made sure I wasn't one of the kids in the class with nothing on their desk and a hopeless look in their eyes. At least not that day.

Her mother called herself my mother, and I did too. She was more of one than mine. But she never reached out. I thought it was unconditional. She looked at me like it was. but it wasn't.

48. She's not the first mom I've had that I've lost. First was mine. Second was her. Third was pretending. Or at least, spiteful enough to scream at me that she had been. She was the first adult to ever choose to use my name and pronouns. She sucked in so many ways, but still made me feel that I was worthy of the respect enough to do so. But that was conditional too.

52. I think I should just leave. But idk if I have the heart to tell my nanny that this happened. She'll be pissed, and I love her for it. But my therapist is so genuinely human in a way that makes us feel so akin. This isn't her fault.

53. I'm gonna leave.

54. In the elevator. 3. 2. 1. This sucks. I am still disappointed. but oh well.

I'm not ready to leave.

I'm pissed that she pretended it wasn't her fault too. (friend*)

25 days. 19 will be my first birthday without her in ten.

I didn't tell nanny. I'm hungry. I hate that. Hunger is cruel, around the corner at every turn, waiting to hurt me. It never stops, it's never over, you can only pause hunger. It's a sick joke, really. I don't want to eat, and I'd go without a little more if it didn't make life feel unlivable. (Again, I was hungry when I wrote this. I'm not the same person)

[liinos]

Bro I'm so SAD

[minghaoyoudoin]

Heartbreak

pairing: non idol!seungcheol x non idol!fem!reader

genre: angst, smut (minors do NAWT interact!), some fluff

words: 4.2k

warnings: soft dom!seungcheol, sub!reader, a breakup at the beginning, pining, angst, mentions of driving during bad weather, brief mention of alcohol, more angst, kissing, marking, a dash of hair pulling, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, slight begging, praise, cum eating (kinda? idk how this shit works lol), unprotected sex (be better than these hooligans), multiple positions, a lil bit of fluff at the end, implied aftercare happens after the story, sorry DK I really did you dirty here, and I think that’s all!

- requested: yes!

a/n: this one's for you, anon 😉 I hope y'all enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it! believe me, this is only the beginning for seventeen on my page. this also features DK and Hoshi, everyone give them a warm welcome hehe!! - j

You leaned against the trunk of the car, exasperated. You couldn’t believe this was happening, in the parking lot of a grocery store, of all places.

You knew your cheeks were probably flushed with color, your eyes gleaming with unshed tears of frustration.

“What, so this is it, then?” Seokmin asked hotly. His own face held the tell-tale signs of oncoming tears—if he started crying now, surely you would break down. You shouldn’t have been forced to do this right now. He shouldn’t have put you in this position.

You were supposed to be on vacation, for god’s sake.

Well, the end of your vacation, but still. The rest of the boys were currently inside the grocery store, shopping for dinner tonight without a clue as to what was happening outside.

“I don’t know, Seokmin.” You rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands and inhaled deeply through your nose. “Maybe it would be better that way.”

“Is this because of Seungcheol?”

You froze.

You slowly lowered your hands until they hung limply at your sides, aware that your mouth was hanging open. “What?”

Seokmin’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been acting strange this whole trip. Before, even. I swear you’ve been attached at the hip to all the guys except me and him.”

Your brain had short-circuited. You couldn’t put the pieces of your sanity back together long enough to provide him an adequate answer.

Seokmin took your stunned silence as confirmation. “I knew it. Have you been seeing him?”

No, you hadn’t. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Couldn’t bring yourself to tell him what he obviously needed to hear.

No, Seokmin, I don’t have feelings for your best friend.

It would have been a lie.

In truth, your relationship with Seokmin had been going downhill for a long time now. You’d started seeing him because of your best friend, Soonyoung, and had quickly fallen in with their entire friend group.

Six months into dating, you began to realize that you and Seokmin were very different people. He was funny and daring and charismatic—all qualities you loved about him, but you found that he prioritized being liked by everyone over being liked by you.

You’d been working up the courage to break up with him for two months, and the only one who knew about your intentions was Soonyoung. No one, however, knew about the feelings which had begun to grow for another member of the group during the same time.

Choi Seungcheol.

The unofficial glue that held the massive friend group together. He was empathetic to a fault and kind beyond belief, and you always seemed to gravitate towards one another when you were put in the same room.

And you were hopelessly, irreversibly in love with him.

Since your discovery of that fact, you’d avoided him like the plague. It wasn’t just that you were still with Seokmin—you couldn’t date one of his best friends. It was… wrong. You spent an outrageous amount of time beating yourself up over your crush on the eldest boy, but no matter what you did, the feelings wouldn’t go away.

You realized abruptly that you still hadn’t answered Seokmin’s question. You swallowed the lump in your throat and squared your shoulders.

“No. I haven’t—haven’t been seeing Seungcheol.” Your statement was immediately weakened when you stumbled over your words in the middle.

Seokmin’s eyes shuttered. In seconds, his earnest, desperate expression flattened into nothing.

“Fine. I guess we’re done here, then.” He turned on a heel and strode back in the direction of the grocery store without another word. Like he couldn’t get away from you fast enough.

You stood, completely immobilized, for what could have been minutes or hours.

More than anything, you hated yourself for the first thought that crossed your mind. The undeniable truth that it carried.

You were free.

You slid against the trunk of the car until you sat on the concrete, your knees hugged to your chest. And at last, you allowed yourself to cry.

Seungcheol couldn’t believe what he’d heard.

He really didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It was completely coincidental that he’d gotten into the car moments before you stormed out of the grocery store, Seokmin hot on your heels. He’d started to rise from the driver’s seat again, but then he’d seen the expressions on your faces.

Whatever had been about to go down between you, he did not want to be in the middle of it.

Now, every word the two of you had exchanged was bouncing around inside his skull, setting off like fireworks.

Is this about Seungcheol?

He’d frozen at that question, spoken with such raw hurt from his friend’s mouth.

And you hadn’t denied it. Even after Seokmin had left you there, you hadn’t said the words that would very likely save your relationship with your boyfriend.

Seungcheol listened to the muffled sounds of your crying, still sitting on the concrete behind the car. He had never wanted anything as badly as he wanted to comfort you right now. But surely you didn’t want to see him—in a way, he was the reason your relationship had just ended in flames.

Seungcheol’s eyes burned and he blinked rapidly, massaging his jaw with a hand. He was a terrible, terrible person. You’d been dancing around one another for months, and he’d been stupid enough to go and fall in love with his best friend’s girlfriend.

And now that you and Seokmin had broken up, he couldn’t decide whether to be heartbroken for one of his best friends or unbelievably, selfishly relieved.

Seungcheol shrank further into his seat when your crying quieted. He watched through the side-view mirror as you stood and smoothed your long skirt, then your hair. There was such determination in the set of your shoulders, the deep breath you sucked in and held before releasing it in a rush.

His eyes tracked you as you walked across the parking lot to your own car. You stopped briefly and looked back at the grocery store, and he anxiously wondered if you would change your mind and go after Seokmin.

You didn’t.

You just slid into the driver’s seat and drove away, your hands gripping the steering wheel so tight that your knuckles paled under the strain.

Seungcheol took a shuddering breath. He tried and failed to quash the rising hope in the back of his mind, but it continued to swell of its own accord.

You had been so unhappy with Seokmin these past months. He could see it on your face as easily as if he were reading a book. But at long last, you were free. And he couldn’t decide if his relief at that fact made him an awful person or not.

He watched the spot your car had vanished long after you disappeared, all the while fighting the urge to go after you.

“No, it’s probably better that you left when you did. It’s fucking pouring out here.”

You glanced out the windows to your left, chewing on your lip as Soonyoung’s staticky voice spoke through your phone. He was right. Rain assaulted the glass in thick torrents, casting ever-changing shadows across your living room.

“I’m still sorry for taking off without telling you. I… had an emergency.” Your lie was weak, but Soonyoung either didn’t notice or chose not to call you on it. Chances were he was too hyper-focused on driving on the slick roads that he didn’t have time to process the guilt in your voice.

You were grateful he had a hands-free car system, but you still fretted over him being distracted while driving because of you. “Look, I’m gonna let you go, okay? Please don’t drive like you normally do.”

Soonyoung’s indignant scoff filtered over the line, distorted by the sound of rain.

“I’m a good driver, thank you very much. It’s pretty bad out here, though—I think there’s a wreck up ahead, no one’s moving. I might be here for a while.”

Your heart ached at the thought of being alone. You and Soonyoung had lived together for a couple years now, and being in this apartment by yourself felt like you’d lost a limb.

“That’s alright. Be safe, will you? Love you, dumbass.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too, butthead.”

Despite your sour mood, you smiled to yourself as you disconnected the call. But the moment you processed the silence pressing in around you, your smile faded.

You had no idea why Seokmin hadn’t told the boys about your breakup yet. As far as you knew, he hadn’t even mentioned that you’d fought at all. You knew he was with them; Soonyoung had briefly mentioned that he’d gotten in the car with Mingyu and Jihoon before breaking off into curses about other people driving like idiots.

Whatever. You usually loved the rain—you wouldn’t let your shitshow of a day ruin this night for you.

You curled further into the couch, pulling the blanket covering you up to your chin. You switched on the TV and watched blankly as fictional strangers fell in love before your eyes. More than anything, you wanted a love like that.

It must be wonderful, finding someone at the right time who was destined to be with you.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when a firm knock sounded at your front door.

“What the hell?” You whispered aloud, glancing at the clock above the fireplace. 1:30 AM. Who on earth was knocking on your door at 1:30 in the morning?

You stood slowly and tip-toed your way into the foyer, frightened at the idea of giving yourself away. Maybe if they thought no one was home, they’d go away.

Yours and Soonyoung’s apartment was actually more of a townhouse, bordering the street with quaint cement steps leading up to the front door. The fact that there weren’t flights of stairs to scale was the main reason you had decided to rent this place over a traditional apartment, but living on street-level made you nervous.

Unable to help yourself, you peered through the peephole at the small porch beyond.

You gasped quietly. Your hand found the knob before your brain could catch up and you wrenched the door open. The sound of rain assaulted you immediately, the chill wind prickling your bare arms and legs.

Seungcheol looked up in surprise like he hadn’t been expecting you to answer. His hair was soaking wet, plastered to his head and dripping into his collar.

You couldn’t understand his expression. There was an emotion on his face you hadn’t seen before and he looked… a little lost.

“I…” he swallowed thickly, looking you up and down once. “I don’t know why I’m here.”

You blinked, confused. “Are you drunk?”

Seungcheol laughed softly, the sound dripping with what sounded suspiciously like bitterness. “No, I’m not drunk.”

“Then why…”

“Have you ever—” Seungcheol interrupted and immediately cut himself off. You pressed your lips into a thin line, your brows furrowed. He began again, “Have you ever met someone that makes you think you’re insane?”

“What?”

Seungcheol chuckled again and tucked his hands deep into his coat pockets. “I look at you and I… I can’t breathe. When you laugh, I’ve convinced myself the sun is somehow brighter. I was driving home tonight and when it started raining, I immediately turned around and came here. You know why? Because it only rains when you’re sad.”

Your heart was beating so fast you thought it might leap out of your chest. You said nothing, scared that he would keep talking and terrified that he would stop.

“That isn’t even possible, but I still believe it.” Seungcheol’s chest rapidly rose and fell, fervent color staining his cheekbones. “I… I want to be the good guy here. I came here to tell you that. But you didn’t deny it. Why didn’t you deny it?”

You knew what he was talking about. How, you had no idea, but as Seungcheol’s eyes earnestly searched your face, you knew then that he had somehow overheard your breakup with Seokmin.

“Because it would have been a lie.” You whispered. You hated the way your voice wavered, but you couldn’t seem to master the emotion rising in your throat.

That, apparently, brought Seungcheol up short.

“It… what?”

“Seokmin asked me point-blank if it was because of you. And in a way, it wasn’t.” You took a steadying breath. “But it would have been a lie to tell him that my feelings for you didn’t influence my decision to end it with him.”

Seungcheol stared at you blankly and you fretted that you had said too much. Had you somehow misconstrued the situation? You were just so tired of lying—to him, to your friends, to yourself. You owed this shred of honesty to your fragile heart.

At last, he breathed, “I’m so sorry.” He blinked rapidly as his throat worked. “I wanted it to work out between you, I really did. But more than that, I wished every single day that I had been there first.”

Your heart stopped altogether. You could think of nothing to say. How were you supposed to respond to that?

Seungcheol’s face flattened out and you took a single step through the doorway as he backed away. He muttered, “I’m sorry,” again and turned, swiftly walking back down your front steps until the torrential rain hit him again.

You had barely begun to call out to him when he froze. He turned, so slowly you could have lived and died in the time it took for him to look at you again.

Seungcheol met your eyes through the rain. He glanced down the deserted street, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he scoffed softly.

“You know what?” His eyes shone as they at last dragged to you. “Just this once, fuck being the good guy.”

He was up the stairs again before you could process. Seungcheol’s mouth collided with yours, his arms instantly winding around your waist as he pulled you closer to his height.

You instantly melted into his touch.

His mouth moved against yours with a sort of urgency you’d never experienced before, his lips and teeth and tongue sending sparks shooting down your spine. Seungcheol groaned against you as your lips parted, allowing him access to taste you.

Your arms slung around his shoulders, crushing him to you. No matter what happened in this moment, there was nothing in this world that could convince you to let him go.

He tasted like winter. Snow and mint and a hint of something bitter, like he’d been smoking. It was intoxicating.

Seungcheol’s hands gripped your waist as he walked you backwards, kicking the front door shut behind him. Your fingers tangled in his rain-soaked hair and tugged earnestly at the strands, drawing a half-strangled moan from his throat.

You were on fire.

Your skin lit up every placed he touched you, the raw heat of him soaking through his wet clothes and directly to your center.

God, nothing had ever felt this right. You moaned breathily as Seungcheol’s mouth moved from yours to your throat, licking and sucking open-mouthed kisses onto the skin there. You gripped the back of his head, raked your fingernails across his shoulders—no matter what you did, you couldn’t seem to feel close enough to him.

He’d been to your house before, all the boys had, so he had no trouble leading you to your bedroom.

He went with you when you fell back onto your bed, his lips staying connected to your throat as you writhed.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he moaned against you, hastily working his hands beneath your shirt to feel your skin on his. You yanked it over your head with record-breaking speed and clenched around nothing when he growled—growled—at the discovery that you weren’t wearing a bra.

Seungcheol wasted no time sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. You groaned as his tongue worked expert circles over the peaked bud, chills skittering across your skin. His tongue left a warm trail of saliva across your chest when he moved to your other breast.

Your fingers tangled in his hair again, desperately tugging at the roots as he worshipped your body. Nothing, nothing felt like this. His mouth was unbearably warm as it left marks across your chest and you squirmed beneath him, hardly able to stand the ache between your legs.

God, this was wrong. You were supposed to be heartbroken, but—

No. You cut your train of thoughts off almost immediately. Maybe it was wrong, but you knew in your very soul that this was meant to happen.

Seungcheol sat up to admire the smattering of purplish marks he’d left across your skin, his eyes glittering. He kneaded your breasts in his hands and you moaned again.

“God, you are… unbelievable.” He tore his eyes from you only long enough to shrug out of his wet coat and shirt, leaving both in a crumpled heap on the floor.

You admired his bare skin unabashedly. He was perfect. Heartbreakingly, unbearably perfect.

Seungcheol planted open-mouthed kisses across your stomach, working his way down your body with cocky intent.

You writhed when he softly kissed the seam of your pajama pants and he grinned up at you. “What is it, baby? What’s wrong?”

You pushed your hips downward in silent demand.

“What do you want?”

Lord, was he really going to make you say it?

“Please, Cheol.” You whimpered. “I think I’ll die if you don’t touch me. Like, right now.”

Seungcheol pressed individual kisses to each of your hipbones before he slid your pants down your legs.

He groaned and dragged the tip of his finger over your panties. You were soaked to the point they stuck to you, the fabric’s texture chafing against your too-sensitive skin.

He hooked a finger under them and pulled them roughly to the side. You cringed inwardly when his warm breath washed over you. Seungcheol stared at your slickness through lust-glazed eyes, slowly working his hips against the mattress in an effort to gain some sort of friction.

“Seungcheol.” You whined again. Without warning, his full lips closed around your clit.

He sucked hard and you released a vulgar moan, your thighs instantly quivering around his head as his tongue worked expertly over you. He dragged the tensed muscle through your folds and groaned low in his throat at your taste.

“You’re so wet already, baby. Is this all for me?”

You nodded hastily. “Yes, all for you, only for you…” Your eyes screwed closed as his fingers at last poised themselves at your entrance. He pushed in slowly, watching every change in your expression with his lips lightly parted.

You released short gasps as his fingers stretched you out, no doubt preparing you for him. Your body crackled with energy and you felt very near to exploding when his fingertips brushed your g-spot.

And when he began to thrust, you thought you might just come apart right then and there.

You writhed as Seungcheol’s fingers worked in and out of you, accompanied by his muttered praises while he pressed kisses to your hips, your thighs, your soaking core.

You climbed steadily towards your orgasm at a pace that made your head spin. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed by the wet sounds you made as he curled his fingers inside you.

“That’s it, baby, let go—yes, cum for me—” Seungcheol attached his mouth to your clit again and moaned against you.

It was your undoing.

You stiffened as your orgasm barreled into you at the speed of a train. For several moments, you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t make a sound, before your breath left you in a rush and you groaned from deep within your chest. Your legs violently shook around where Seungcheol laid between your thighs.

His fingers worked you through you orgasm until your walls stopped clamping down around them.

You shivered when he raised his hand, gleaming with you, to his mouth and obscenely licked his fingers clean. His eyelids fluttered closed and you clenched around nothing, instantly ready for him again.

He crawled up your body with painstaking slowness, trailing kisses across your flushed skin. Seungcheol unbuckled his belt and tugged his jeans down his legs, and at long last he was fully naked above you.

His skin was cold where it touched yours, still a little damp from the rain. You didn’t mind in the slightest—the temperature contrast between you was a shock that left you both desperate to touch more of the other.

You locked your ankles around his waist and froze when the head of his cock slid through your folds. You knew without looking down that he was big. Even after his working you open with his fingers and an orgasm, the stretch would feel incredible.

You both released twin hisses through your teeth as he gently thrusted into you. He was only able to get a quarter of the way in before he met resistance and he pulled out slightly.

He gazed down at you, worry plaguing the beautiful stars in his eyes. You smoothed the crease between his brows away with the tip of your finger and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth.

“I’m okay. Keep going,” you urged, your voice hardly more than a breath of air between you.

Seungcheol obeyed. He spent several long, agonizing minutes working his way into you, both of you groaning at the sensation all the while.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “God, baby, you’re so tight. You fit me so well—” His words cut off in a moan when your walls involuntarily clenched around him.

At last, his hips were seated snugly against yours. Your hands trailed across his shoulder blades as he experimentally thrusted once and you rewarded him with a breathy whine.

He braced his hands on either side of you, allowing his forehead to fall against yours. You both moaned at every slow thrust—you felt him so deep. It was like he was everywhere.

“Cheol, please.”

You didn’t really know what you were begging for, but he did. You knew it the moment he picked up his pace, rocking his hips against yours with enough force that the head of his cock effortlessly hit your g-spot. The pleasure made you dizzy and your eyes rolled back in your head.

You chanted his name as he moved faster and faster, until his hips slammed into yours at a speed that drove you wild.

You grabbed his shoulders and rolled until he was on his back. His cock never left you as you sank down fully onto his length, your legs straddling his hips. Seungcheol’s head pressed into the mattress and he groaned.

His hands found your breasts again, deftly massaging and kneading while you rode him. You bounced with increasing speed, recklessly chasing your high as your walls erratically spasmed around him.

Seungcheol began to twitch beneath you, his breath catching in his chest. You were both close, so close—

Your second orgasm hit you without warning. You cried out and your upper half fell forward, catching yourself on your hands on either side of his head. You clenched so hard that Seungcheol grunted, his own high hitting him a moment later.

You continued to rock your hips on him gently, working you both steadily through the waves of euphoria crashing into you. His cock twitched inside you, releasing thick spurts of his warm cum that you swore sent goosebumps running over your legs.

Seungcheol’s arms folded around you and he pulled your chest against his. You laid like that for a long time, his head buried in the junction between your neck and shoulder with your legs still straddling his hips.

Perhaps you should have felt guilty, but you didn’t. You knew without a doubt that the man still nestled between your walls was the most right decision you’d ever made.

He kissed your shoulder gently to draw your attention.

“You okay?” He asked softly, his eyes unbearably tender as he looked over you. “Let me clean you up.” He began to push you off of him, probably so he could grab a rag from your bathroom, but you locked your arms around his neck.

He laughed softly. “Okay, okay. Maybe later, then.”

“Let’s just… stay like this, for a while. If that’s okay.” You whispered. You couldn’t get enough of him—his smell, his taste, the feeling of his skin on yours. You never wanted it to end.

“Whatever you want, baby. Anything for you.”

Your heart warmed in your chest as his words. His knuckles traced gentle shapes between your shoulder blades, each touch grounding you to the present.

Maybe you weren’t sure what you were going to do after tonight, but it didn’t matter.

Whatever it was, you would do it together.

please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!! I would also like to note that I love seventeen so much I think I could die so there's that, lol

masterlist here :)

© minghaoyoudoin 2022 - all rights reserved. reposts/translations not allowed. I do not assume to know the personal lives of the idol(s) depicted in this fic, this is for entertainment purposes only!

[sluttbuttsstuff]

For the prompts, 49 with doppio? >:3 Idk what it is about him I just look at him and think “oh you’re NEEDY needy, huh?”. Thank you so much, you’re a really good writer! :)

No problem buddy, thanks for the request! >:3

Warnings: not sfw, dubcon/noncon, abduction, dark themes, yandere, etc.

Also, my requests are still open, if anyone else is interested!

Enjoy!

Yandere prompt with Doppio, “You want me to fuck you…? Would that make you happy? Would it make you love me?” afab reader, dub/non con

All you wanted to do now was go home. You had had a long week at work, your parents were nagging you again, and to make things worse you had a headache that would not go away. After an exhausting day that began before the sun was out, and ended after the sun had set, you certainly deserved to do nothing more than go home, eat some junk food in your comfy pjs, listen to a podcast while you took a bath and pampered yourself, and maybe jerk off before bed. Unfortunately, you had a “girls night” tonight.

Your friends (your IRL friends at least) complained that you never went out with them anymore (nevermind that whenever you suggested doing something with them, or wanted to chat or text on the phone they were busy) and had forced you to go clubbing with them to celebrate the three-day weekend ahead. You weren’t much of a drinker, and really weren’t much of a dancer, so you had been given the purses to hold while you waited for them to be ready to go home.

You wrinkled your nose in frustration, glaring into the blurry screen of your phone looking at the late time: this was unfair. You were a hard worker, kind to a fault to those around you, and you deserved better than this. Sitting in a corner of a crowded club, everyone in the place having a great time except for you, tired and alone. At least in your apartment, you chose to be there, and at least no one actively ignored you: places like this just pointed out the flaws you hated about yourself more: you were bad with people, and easy to ignore.

Once one of your “friends” stumbled over to the group’s table, you left them with everyone's purse, mumbling you were going to the bathroom (you didn’t know if she heard you and you didn’t care) and left before anyone could stop you. You stumbled your way to the restroom in heels way too high for you to walk in, trying to clean yourself up and find a quiet place to text your goodbyes so your friends wouldn’t worry about your sudden disappearance. Leaning over the sink counter, you wiped a makeup smear off the corner of your lips, noticing a second too late someone behind you.

“Hey, there’s another sink-” You began to say to the blurred figure way too close to you, before a sudden eruption of pain hit the side of your head, and you were out in a flash…

The next time you regained consciousness was several hours later, but it was still dark when you opened your eyes, trying to remember what happened and where in the world you were. The stale cigarette smell, the unreasonably cold ac, the bedsheets starched so strongly that the sheets felt like plastic- this was definitely a motel. But where, and how long had you been here? As you began to sit up, you heard a surprised, timid voice.

“Oh, thank goodness! You’re awake, I was beginning to worry about you! Hold on, don’t move so suddenly, i’ll help you sit up.

Sure enough, as you started moving, your head lit up with painful throbbing that made last night’s headache seem like nothing in comparison. You grit your teeth and clenched your eyes shut, trying not to groan in pain.

“What the hell happened to me last night?” you grunted through your teeth, rubbing your temple as gentle hands helped slowly sit you up propped against cushions.

“Haha, you had a lot of bad luck last night, running into my boss. He was waiting for...an employee in the restroom and thought you were sent after him. He’s a bit paranoid, and he may have...accidentally clobbered you.” The voice apologized, gentle as he handed you what felt like a glass of water.

You forced yourself to open your eyes; it was still dark, but you could tell it wasn’t because of the time of day but rather a lack of light and closed curtains. You looked at..you looked at the person in front of you. Like whoever had attacked you last night, they had long pink hair, braided and side parted. Their eyes were green and wide, and they looked particularly juvenile with a crop top and freckles. They were on the smaller side, perhaps even shorter than you (hard to tell from while on the bed) and their eyes were crinkled in apprehension, like he was afraid you were going to hurt him.

“Erm, don’t worry though, I talked him out of doing anything too..extreme, after all I'm his right hand man! Besides, you seem like a perfectly nice person, I'd hate to see anything bad happen to you. Sorry, I'm rambling! Umm, do you want something for your headache? You were groaning in your sleep, I'm sure it doesn’t feel so good right now-” He went on and on, pulling out some painkillers to take with your water.

After thanking him, you were about to swallow the pill before pausing, looking at the strange man who’d taken you to a remote hotel after his boss had nearly killed you. Sensing your suspicion, doppio exclaimed, “Oh, don’t worry, they’re safe, name brand painkillers! Um, hold on, lemme just-” And he made a show of popping some of the pills you were holding into his mouth and swallowing, sticking out his tongue and opening his mouth to show you he’d ingested it.

Satisfied, and more importantly in a lot of pain, you took some of the pills yourself, much to the relief of the pink haired man.

“Oh good, thank you for doing that! I was so worried watching you asleep, you’ll feel much better now! By the way, my name’s Doppio, it’s a pleasure to meet you! Oh! And I know your name’s y/n because you had your purse and ID on you! Haha, sorry for going through your purse, I was just hoping to find any info on you that might be, you know, important.” he sat on the bed, scooching closer and closer to you.

You cleared your throat, unsure of what to say, and the watchful eyes of Doppio doing nothing to make you feel better.

“Well, um, thank you, Doppio. I appreciate you, um, saving me? Sorry for any inconvenience, I'll just, um-” You try to get up to leave, only for Doppio to place a hand over your leg.

“Don’t go! What, I mean, what if you hurt yourself? You probably have a concussion, and also you haven’t had breakfast? We could eat together and-” Doppio stammered, grabbing your hand and stroking it with his sweaty, cold fingers.

You had to stop him, before things got out of hand.

“Thank you, Doppio, it really was very sweet of you to take such good care of me, but I-”

“Please! You don’t understand, I mean-” Doppio fumbled with his words, clearly trying to make you stay at all costs.

“Doppio, i can’t stay here forever, i need to go home. My friends are probably worried about me by now.” You tried to press on, you didn’t want to upset the man with a powerful boss, but you felt increasingly claustrophobic with Doppio pawing at you.

“You mean those mean girls who left you with their purses all night? Why would you care about what they-” Doppio covered his mouth with both hands quickly, realizing what he just said.

Your blood ran ice cold; how did he know so much about them? Had he been watching you before the “incident”

Using his moment of weakness, you got up from the bed and tried to reach the door; it was time for you to go home, if not call the cops.

Doppio yelped, Throwing himself in front of the door before you could make your escape.

“Please, don’t be scared y/n! I didn’t mean to upset you, I only meant that I can treat you much better than your friends can. I mean, look at how good I've been for you so far?? I didn’t make you dance with me at the club, even though I really wanted to. I didn’t just have my fun against your will in the bathroom stall like the boss told me to do.I saved you from a concussion, or worse! I got you your own hotel room for the night, and didn’t take advantage of you or touch you while you were asleep! I want our first time to be special, after all! Isn’t that what you want?” Doppio pleaded, eyes wild as he tried to smile, trying to calm you.

You were anything but calm however, this guy was clearly obsessed with you, and had been for longer than just one night. Even if at first he had merely seemed like a pathetic “nice guy” you no longer had any pity or time to give him.

“Doppio, get away from the door and let me leave, now.” you demanded in your best authoritative voice. Doppio whimpered, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go at all, you were supposed to love him!

“You can’t! Boss and I won’t let you!” He cried, covering the door with his body. With no other choice, you slid out of your shoes and charged at him full speed. You managed to give him a good blow on the head, and threw him out of the way of the door. He cried, crumpled on the ground. If not for the fact that he had kidnapped you, you might have felt bad for hurting him like this, but you had to think of yourself at this moment.

As you finally unlock and pull open the door, heading towards freedom, you hear the strangest noise behind you.

“RingRingRingRingRing!” Doppio calls after you, in an unnatural, high pitched tone. You try to ignore it, you literally don’t have time for this, but with strength he had not previously displayed, Doppio grabs one of your arms, twisting it behind your back and up to his ear, holding it like a telephone.

There’s a trickle of blood, and one of his eyes is rolled back in its socket, but he calmly says, “Hello, this is Doppio,” Into your hand, as if he was having a normal conversation on the phone.

You scream out, doubled over by the pain in your arm, Doppio silent as he “listens” to his “Phonecall” oblivious to your suffering. Where did all this power come from? He was acting like an entirely different person, and frankly scaring you. Doppio nodded, pulling your hand closer into his ear and intently listening to nothing but air before “Hanging up and pulling you back into the motel room.

He threw you on the bed ( his arms felt much stronger, and more muscular for some reason) before crawling on top of you and pinning you down. You were too stunned, and frankly too scared, to come up with any means of escape, just weakly struggling to throw him off of you to no avail.

“Doppio, please-” You whispered, eyes blurry with tears.

“I talked to the boss, and he helped me figure out what to do. He wants our relationship to succeed after all!” Doppio exclaimed, additude reverted to how he’d first spoken to you. You were confused, you’d neither seen nor heard anyone in or around the room, who was he talking to and how?

“Boss told me that people like you need some discipline in order to be obedient, or you’ll walk all over me. If I can do that, then I can make you love me, and we’ll be happy together, isn’t that what you want?” Doppio told you, stroking your cheek.

“This is not okay, Doppio!” you yell, thrashing against both arms, “Let me go or i’ll-”

...

Wait a minute, both arms?

Then how was he…?

You look over to one side in shock, only to see a floating metallic and red arm holding you down, one on either side. You screamed, overwhelmed by a stalker and strange supernatural forces you couldn’t understand.

“Oh, you can see King Crimson's arms? Interesting, perhaps because of your near death experience with Boss, you can see stands now? Although, it would be bad if you developed a stand, what to do?...” Doppio pondered to himself, speaking apparent babble.

You cried, trying to wake up from this obvious nightmare with no luck.

“Awww, hey y/n, it’s okay, i’m not gonna hurt you! Not if you be good for me and Boss.” Doppio cooed, kissing your cheeks and forehead. “I talked boss into keeping you with us- you’re always so lonely at home, and never have a good time with others, right? You don’t have to lie anymore, I've been watching you for a while. Nobody else seems to, though, they’re too self-absorbed and stupid to realize how incredible you are!” He continued, oblivious to his words not helping, but hurting you.

“You’re perfect for me and boss, we can take really good care of you. Forget this lousy motel, we have mansions and villas all over Italy that we can take holidays to. We have billions of Lira from work, you’ll never have to lift another finger and we’ll pamper you to death. And best of all? You’ll never have to see your awful friends or family again! Isn’t it awful how they treat you? We can get rid of them, so they can’t hurt you!” He finishes, grinning ear to ear, but his eyes hollow and lifeless, staring unblinkingly into yours.

This guy was sick, there was no other word to it. You might have had issues with your family, and yeah your friends could be assholes sometimes, but you didn’t want them killed! What good would that do you, or anyone for that matter?!

Doppio seemed to read your thoughts, “Look, I know it's a lot to take in at once, but trust me. Boss and I have planned this out for a while now, and we’re always going to do what’s best for us, ok? So don’t worry so much, and please stop struggling? Boss warned me if you got too unruly he’d take over and finish what he started last night.

A wave of nausea slithered through you as you remembered, thinking how close you were to dying. You gave up, lying limp on the bed, praying for this to end.

Doppio smiled again, this one almost seeming genuine, and gave you the softest kiss to your lips. It was childish, almost, and he clearly lacked experience, but he gained more confidence from your lack of struggling. With the mysterious hands holding you (stands? King crimson?) his own hands were free to touch you. He started With your cheeks, your face, your hair, your neck, stroking you with feather-light touches, his fingers tracing each curve, digit and flaw like he was trying to memorize it all.

“Finally… I finally get to touch you like this… I’ve been waiting for so long, y/n. Do you know how long I've wanted to hold you?” He whispered, wrapping his arms around your neck, cradling your cheek to his. You didn’t know, and you didn’t want to, but Doppio told you anyway.

“I’ve been watching, waiting...for so long. Following you home from work, listening into your calls, finding your online accounts. I’ve known since I first saw you that you were the one for me, and now I get to prove it to you. I get to show you all the things I've been meaning to do to you. You’ll never be lonely again, not with me around. We’ll never be lonely~”

He giggled the last part, giddy with excitement, as he slid his fingers down your ribcage, your sides, fiddling with the bottom of your shirt. You wriggled, trying to fight him off again, only to your dismay Doppio giggled even harder at your reactions-perhaps because he knew you could never overpower him.

“Ohhh~ still so shy? Don’t be so uptight, y/n, you need to live a little! I know how much you want this; you complain about it all the time on your personal blog-” You could feel the blush on your cheeks heating up your face, desperate to make him shut up, “ How you want someone to have their way with you, to make you forget everything else in life. You’re desperate for someone to truly cherish and understand you; mentally and physically. You want me to love you? You want me to fuck you…? Would that make you happy? Would it make you love me?” Doppio rambled on and on, ripping your shirt off with strength he hadn’t had before.

You yelped, goosebumps forming on your skin as Doppio cackled, rubbing his face on your stomach, and into your cleavage poking out from your bra.

“Yes, let go for me! Show me every emotion, everything you’ve been holding back from me for so long- i need it, I demand it!” He snarled, splitting your nicest bra in half, and biting down on your neck, hard.

You screamed, legs kicking uselessly as the pain blurred your mind and you were operating purely on instinct. Doppio didn’t seem bothered in the least by it, you could still feel his laughter against your sore neck, as he sucked down on it, trying to bruise and mark you. His hands couldn’t help but find their way to your breasts, toying with them and squeezing them with admittedly little expertise. But he was a quick learner, making note of each little gasp and twitch according to how he touched you, and improving his technique from there. He twisted your nipples a bit roughly, already hard from the chilly air and sensitive to touch- you couldn’t help but moan a little in satisfaction. It had been awhile.

Doppio’s moans echoed yours, as he kissed his way down the crevice of your breasts, and licked each nipple in turn. You squirmed, not in fear or anger but pleasure, angry at yourself for letting this strange man win your body over so easily. Doppio kept his eyes on you at all times, studying your face to see how you felt. He’d had to watch you for so long from so far away, alone in your bedroom, or so you thought… it was time to use the knowledge he’d gained to make your body crazy for him.

You jumped at Doppio’s hands, cupping your groin through your pants, trying not to buck into his hands . It was getting harder and harder to deny him, though, why couldn’t you just-?

Doppio pulled your pants down to your ankles, taking your panties with it. He groaned audibly at the sight- your pussy was so wet and dripping, there was still a trail connected to your underwear.

“No, don’t-” You cried, snapping your legs shut, visibly scared at what was taking place again. Doppio was losing patience, crouching down and prying your legs open,

“Stop fighting me, y/n, you clearly want this!” He cried, eye twitching in annoyance. He managed to open your legs again, and buried his face into your pussy. He moaned, licking up a wet stripe against your labia, warm and puffy and so wet for him- he knew you would be, he knew you loved him.

Tears streaked down the sides of your face, this was so much and so intense. Your thighs clamped down on Doppio’s cheeks and neck, squeezing him as hard as you could. Not hard enough, apparently, as he just started giggling again through a full mouth and busy tongue “Ssho good, y/n, why have you been hiding thissh from mee~?” he moaned, tongue circling your clit. You flung your head back into the pillow, gripping the mysterious hands that held you for any source of strength or comfort.

Watching you whimper so pitifully with his head between your legs, obviously blissed out after being so needy and alone for so long, just did things to doppio. He loved the pained, fucked out expression on your face- you couldn’t even keep your eyes open as he snuck one, two fingers into your aching pussy. You whimpered so cutely, and it was all for him and him alone. Finally~

“Y/n, please, i can only hold back for so long, let me make sure it’s not painful… be good for me, please?” Doppio begged, grinding his hips into the mattress before he could help himself. Begrudgingly, you moved your thighs back just enough for Doppio to push them away, when he got a wonderful idea. King crimson, or what Boss had lent him of his stand to use, sensed his thought, and grabbed both your hands in one arm. Doppio pushed your thighs back and up, effectively bending your knees into your chest and displaying your pussy in such a beautiful way. You cried out, surprised by the sudden movements and embarrassed by how exposed you were, but there was nothing you could do about it. Doppio was just too strong.

The other free hand floated down, spreading your lips apart to give Doppio a nice view before pummeling two of his thick, strong fingers inside of you. You screamed, crying as the fingers curled directly into your sweet spot, massaging with robotic-like precision and speed. The sounds you were making were wet, animalistic, and you were quickly brought close to the brink.

“Perfect, y/n! Just like that, let yourself go! It makes me happy to see a side of yourself you never show anyone else- and you never will to anyone but me! Remember, I'm the one making you feel this good, right y/n? You couldn’t possibly find anything half as wonderful from anyone else but me! Me, got it?!” Doppio exclaimed, his voice cracking and becoming much darker, scarier. For a second, you could swear he looked like a different person entirely, wild, angry and dangerous- but you blinked and Doppio was just as before.

Doppio licked his lips, sweating and anxious, this was good enough to make you love him, right? This was what he had to do to make you happy? Boss’s words from before appeared in his head though, and he remembered how Boss had always been right before. Doppio trusted him, and was determined to win you over. Doppio let go of one of your legs-you seemed adequately distracted and restrained to get away from him- and unzipped his fly. In truth, he would’ve preferred to get all the way naked with you for the first time, so you could see and feel the real him as well, but clearly the two of you were too desperate and impatient for him to get fully naked. This time.

You whimpered at the sound of a zipper, feeling the fingers pull out of you. You heard the crinkle of a wrapped, and the muffled groan as Doppio probably rolled a condom onto himself, but you were too afraid to look. The strong floating hand, still wet with your juices, gripped your cheek and forced you to look at Doppio, staring you down with much more restraint and calm than he had been. Doppio kissed your cheek, then your lip, and pushed his warm cock achingly slowly, gently, into your waiting pussy.

You couldn’t help yourself from moaning, grabbing at the hands that held you, thrusting yourself onto Doppio’s hard and hot cock. He bit his lip, feeling you twitch and squeeze around him; he was trying so hard to be gentle for you, why were you still making things so difficult. He chuckled to himself, and motioned for King Crimson to let you go; finally you were beginning to relax and enjoy yourself, and he wanted to enjoy every bit of it.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around Doppio, holding him close to you. Your mind was a mess, your body even messier, you didn’t know what to think or do about your abducter/rapist fucking you so tenderly, and you were tired of fighting. So you let him fuck you, slowly and gently and way way emotionally. Doppio wiped away new tears you hadn’t realized were there, shushing you, “It’s okay, my sweet y/n. Just relax and let me do the work. Don’t fight it any more, just let go.” He whispered, pressing kisses into your lips and cheeks far too sweetly.

So you did, you relaxed and sank into the mattress, pulling Doppio down with you. He let go of your thighs, and held you tightly to him as he fucked-no, made love to you. He gradually picked up the pace, huffing and whispering words of admiration to you about your body, or how much he adored you. You took it all limply, the fight having gone out of you and desperate for comfort. The floating arms, which you had forgotten about, reappeared and stimulated your nipples and clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Doppio sped up as well, he knew this would have to end, but he wanted to make it last as long as possible. This was your first time together, after all. He wanted to make it special. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper and closer into you. You could feel the spongy head of his dick rub your inside so sweetly, you were starting to get addicted to the feeling. Doppio buried his head into your neck, mumbling nonsense as he pushed in deeper and deeper, faster and faster, as his restraint gave way to passion.

“Y/n I- I don’t know how much longer I can last, but-” He kissed you, as the stroking of your clit sped up. You groaned loudly, you were so close, “Just a bit longer, please~” You begged, biting your lip. Doppio took a deep breath, steeling himself as he was determined to make you come first. He pounded into you, urging you closer and closer, four sets of hands circling your body and drawing out noises and gasps from you out of your control.

“Almost there, please, almost~!!!” You cried, throwing your head back with a final sigh as you came hard and fast, your core heating up and washing over you as Doppio helped you ride it out with clit rubs. Your walls fluttering around him, the face that you made as you came from him, for him, it was too much and he quickly filled his condom inside of you, moaning even louder than you had as he thrust without abandon into your wonderful, most precious place. He didn’t want to stop, thrusting almost to the point of overstimulation, before he had to stop, and collapsed on top of you. He cooed and kissed his praises and thanks into your shoulder and skin, before he noticed the soft sound of you snoring. Poor thing, he chuckled to himself, you’d really worked yourself up.

He reluctantly pulled out, after indulging in 5 minutes of cuddling your sleeping body and listening to your heartbeat. Doppio cleaned the two of you off, and tucked you into the covers of the motel- now would be a good time to set up moving you into your new home. After all, The whole reason you were in the motel is because the moving company Boss had hired to move your things into the main base would take several hours to complete their job, and Boss didn’t want anyone seeing you or Doppio at home. Doppio ruffled your hair as you slept, pulling out his cellphone to check in with Boss and give him the full update he’d requested.

Tonight was going to be very busy.

[hyunjinspark]

I’m sorry for my long ass review? Idk what to call this but here’s my thoughts and feelings while I read chapter 11!

Okay so…she overthinks…a lot.

She has this lack of self appreciation and confidence and I think it’s due to Felix and Hana. The way they spoke to her in the flashback in contrast to Yeonjun and Minho is so clear. Felix brought up the boy first for no reason, was it to get y/n out of her shell? To talk more? Or to embarrass her? Hana took every opportunity to ridicule y/n’s feelings about the boy at aero’s (Hyunjin), while Yeonjun and Minho were understanding about y/n’s interest in the stranger and didn’t make it into something she would be ashamed of. Felix…I loved him at first but now he seems so toxic to me, for y/n. The gaslighting…the ignorance he has towards y/n’s interests. It’s strange how Felix wants to keep y/n but doesn’t want to make little sacrifices to make her happy like she does for him. I mean she just wanted to cost a damn museum with him but he was just so rude when he declined where as y/n who hates gory movies, still went to see one with Felix because she loves him and doesn’t mind making the little sacrifices for him.

Also, maybe I’m wrong cause we don’t know everything that went on with Hana and Yeonjun but Hana does not and never did deserve someone like him. (Maybe it’s cause I’m still at the beginning of the chapter and switching to my notes app to write this whenever I feel the need to but she’s irritating me already 😤)

I’m glad that y/n knew speaking to Hana and Felix would ruin her happy mood but I wish she understood that not everything is her fault and the fights she had with them, they’re to blame too, more so than herself.

I wish she could go visit Yeonjun in the city 🥺 I’m so glad she has him because I feel like she’s just fall apart without the lack of positivity in her life. Yeonjun 🥺😭 I love him, best boy, best friend! I love that he makes sure y/n knows her thoughts and feelings are valid and that she doesn’t need to justify Hana and Felix’s shitty treatment and behavior. Also why did Yeonjun get so upset when she mentioned that Minho would choose them over her? Does he know something?

Ah yes “back-handed comment” that’s what Hana does best.

“But maybe love wasn’t everything, and maybe love couldn’t always be manifested into good relationships. “ - yes!!!!!

Wait…Felix actually looked for Hyunjin for y/n? 😳 why didn’t he tell her?

Minho telling her that she still has him and her thinking that he’ll be upset with her too 🥺 what have Felix and Hana done to her 😭

Finally Hyunjin and Y/n 🥺 him asking her to take of the coat and then helping her just felt so…intimate…saying “please” and getting him to do anything she wants by saying that!!! Ahhh! He was gonna say brat wasn’t he?

The chocolate fountain reminded me of the chocolate factory video and Hyunjin eating the chocolate lol

I feel bad for Y/n, she came to this event with Hyun but all these people are talking to him and it’s like she’s not even there 😕

Then he says he needs her next to him? Also why is he so dismissive whenever anyone assumes he’s her boyfriend…

He moved the seats closer so he could talk to her 🥺

The strawberry…the seat…the paint…that’s what the emoji’s were!!!

Hyunjin not liking the fact that another man was talking to his Y/n

Ahhh he kissed her cheek! 😁😭

Wait…is this why he’s so dismissive whenever anyone asks if he’s her boyfriend? Because he doesn’t want y/n to get hurt if they’re in a relationship, that’s why he’s staying away from relationships?

“That’s because you’re the sweetest thing in the world” He sighed, burying his face in your neck…I’m screaming in my pillow why is he so endearing

“You didn’t know what love meant, but you think this was it.” 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️ please I need them to have a happy ending

Switching seats do she could hold his hand while he paints 😭

Never mind…the chair and paint emoji’s meant him pulling her onto his lap 😳

What does he mean, “why?” He knows why he makes her nervous it’s the same reason why she makes him nervous 🙈

He always let you explore him, and you wanted to learn him.

And he wants to explore y/n and learn her

FINALLY they kiss!!!! 🥲🥰😭

I- everything that is happening after this is perfect.

I spoke too soon why did the paint fall ☹️

And then it started again 😌 never mind.

Oh no why! 😭 why can’t they just be happy! My heart 💔

- 🎨

hi love ! i have no idea if this was sent twice or if i already answered this but thank you so much for this review!

she does overthink a lot and you’re right :( the flashback depicts how casually dismissive her friends can get and it may not seem like a big deal or an isolated incident since its so mundane but knowing the context the present, we can kind of tell why yn is the way she is !

and yes felix did look for hyunjin 👀 we’ll find out soon why he never said anything, although the answer may be obvious haha.

HE was gonna say brat !! hah i loved reading your train of thoughts through this chapter. thank you for liking it so much ☺️

[novamirmirsblog]

I am not a woman, I'm a God (17+)

If I can't have love I want power pt 2

If I can't have love masterlist

Word Count: 1640

Genre: dark I guess?

Request: no

Warnings: none? (atm anyways)

A/N: I'm not too happy with this chapter so it's subject to change BUT the next couple chapters should pick things up a little :3 OH and the next chapter might contain smut (Idk yet - I'll try to edit this when I've written the next chapter)

1737 - The middle

The revenge was sweet and drawn out. The redhead and her long-time friend had made sure of that. They let you finish the duke off but not before they had their fun. The two women were gorgeous, both with red hair that would make any woman jealous. The green-eyed woman had hair like a wildfire and the blue-eyed woman had hair the colour of a deep red sunset. Liking women was wrong but you weren’t sure these two counted as women – they certainly weren’t human. Wanda, the one with sunset hair, tortured your husband mentally, angry whisps the same colour as Natasha’s hair crawled in through his ears and buried themselves deep within his brain. While this was happening, Natasha was peeling layer after layer of skin off him with her razor-sharp nails. You weren’t sure if you could even call them nails – not when they looked so much more like claws. While Wanda was exploiting your husband’s deepest darkest fears, Natasha was calmly explaining to you which tools to use where so you could cause the most pain. Apparently pain and torture was an aphrodisiac for them because the two demons decided to show you what you had been missing out on due to your husband’s lack of skill.

That was almost 200 years ago. Wanda and Natasha had given you great gifts, allowing you to have a much longer life, giving you cat-like reflexes and godlike powers. Perhaps your favourite was the enhancements they gave to your voice. People were suddenly compelled to do whatever you suggested they do and the rush it gave you was unexplainable. These gifts were not free however and yet the price was one you willingly paid repeatedly. Especially because it meant spending extra time with your two favourite demons. You were there to cause chaos and have fun which was ironic considering Wanda was a chaos demon and Natasha was a succubus but perhaps that’s why you did what you did. Perhaps it was because you were made by them and therefore must serve them in every way imaginable.

~~~~~

You had watched your siblings grow from afar and made sure every single villager who ever even looked at them wrong suffered. When you were with Wanda and Natasha, it felt as if everything just fit into place. It was strange and you felt as if you shouldn’t miss them – they killed and tortured your husband in front of you, gave you gifts that meant you couldn’t live a normal life and coerced you into sex that you weren’t sure you wanted; yet you still wanted them.

Your story was told countless times and the more times it was told, the deeper the truth was twisted into a legend, a tale mothers told their children to keep them away from the forests late at night. You were turned into a martyr, a victim of the horrible cruelties the evil creatures of the world could bestow onto innocent girls.

You were anything but.

If the storytellers could see you now, they would burn all mentions of your story. You were a problem child, a bad example and you had two of the most powerful demons wrapped around your little finger.

A few years ago, you had mentioned to Natasha and Wanda one evening that you were bored. That’s how you found yourself currently being shot at.

“Natty I’m bored.” You whined, throwing yourself dramatically over the bed. History was going through a dry spell; people weren’t doing anything interesting and there weren’t enough opportunities for you to wreak havoc.

“Natty” Wanda mocked “Our princess is bored.”

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” Natasha moved to hover over you, Wanda placed your head in her lap. Natasha’s tail flicked with a cat-like manner before it slithered between your legs.

You grabbed her tail and she let out a moan “Not now Natasha. I’m serious. If I knew living forever was going to be this boring, then I wouldn’t have done it.” That wasn’t quite true, you enjoyed being theirs to use but you were getting restless.

Natasha rolled her eyes, leaning up to kiss Wanda instead. You waited a few moments for the two demons to stop their make-out session, but it didn’t look to be ending any time soon. You rolled out from underneath Natasha and untangled Wanda’s fingers from where she was massaging your scalp.

“Awe come back baby.” Wanda broke the kiss and made grabby arms at you. For a supposed demon, she sure was soft. “I promise we’ll make things more fun.”

Natasha rolled her eyes again “You’ve gone soft Wands.” Although Natasha huffed and puffed about how ‘soft’ Wanda had gotten, she seemed to have a slightly less hardened heart when she looked at you.

You were no longer bored but you were being shot at and while it couldn’t kill you, it sure did sting. Perhaps going after Dick Turpin’s loot was a bad idea but what can you say? You wanted to live a little. All you had wanted was a pretty horse you had seen him steal but nooo – he had to keep them all for himself. You had managed to escape Mr Turpin himself but one of his lackeys just wouldn’t give up. Rather than continuing to run, you decided you may as well get a quick meal.

“Hello darling.” Your voice echoed from all around, you watched as the man trying to kill you frantically whipped his head around.

“Who are you? Come out now!”

You let out a low, predatory chuckle.

“I’m the poor little martyr in all your stories.”

“No. You can’t be- that’s impossible! You should be dead!” You watched as the man continued to spin around and around in circles, watching him trip before revealing yourself.

“I am ancient. I have seen empires rise and fall. I have seen kings and queens and holy men enter the world and I have seen them leave; and yet I am nowhere near as old or as powerful as the women who made me the person I am today. While I watched preestablished civilisations crumble, they were reminiscing the time they created them, all while burning them to the ground. Some call me the end but they are mistaken. They are the end. I am your warning. I am the only kindness they will show you. Trivial things such as death do not concern me.” As you finished your speech, Natasha and Wanda’s comforting aura surrounded you, the dark mist embracing you before forming the two women.

“Couldn’t let you have all the fun now could we dove?” Natasha’s voice rumbled out against your neck, biting it lightly.

“You have to share.” Wanda cooed, lifting your chin up to face her as she captured your lips with hers.

The idiot who you were about to kill and feed on decided now was a good time to make their escape. Luckily, Wanda had other plans as her red magic bought the squirming meal back to you.

“Go away. I want to eat. It’s been so long.” You pouted, making your way back to your meal. It was a little annoying that to continue living in your young body that you had to drain the soul from another person, but it was worth it.

“But if we leave then who’s going to do all the heavy lifting?”

“And who will dig the hole in your garden?”

“Or put the body in the hole?”

“Or-”

“Okay! I get it. Fine. But just hush, okay? I like to eat in peace.” You grabbed the man and kissed him hard, feeling his soul merge with yours before it was consumed by the darkness.

“I don’t know why you always have to kiss them to feed” Natasha bit out, moving away from you with Wanda, voicing her unhappiness at you kissing someone else when only she should be kissing you- her and maybe Wanda.

“Well, it wasn’t me who made her feed that way.” Wanda whispered back

“Are you suggesting this is my fault?” Natasha’s voice got low and dangerous, and you felt the forest drop about 10 degrees.

“Well that’s how you feed isn’t it?” Wanda’s eyes glowed and a wind picked up.

You pulled away from your meal, the faint glow of his soul swirling around your mouth and eyes. “Want to share?” The forest rose back to its original temperature and climate as Natasha kissed you, absorbing small remnants of the soul. Wanda wrapped one arm around your waist while the other snaked up to your neck, her teeth lightly biting and sucking along your shoulders.

“I think you forget dove” Natasha broke the kiss to growl at you

“We’re in charge here. If we wanted to share, then we would share.” Wanda finished off for her.

It dawned on you that perhaps this was about more than just the meal. They were jealous.

“Are you two jealous?” You laughed, not at the situation but at their reactions. Wanda bit you harder and Natasha just glared at you.

“Of course not. Why would we be jealous of some silly insignificant dum-”

“Baby…” You reached up and placed one hand lightly on Wanda’s horn and the other on Natasha’s cheek, effectively stopping Natasha’s rant about how unjealous they are. Wanda moved from where she was standing behind you to stand next to Natasha. “You both know that if I could live off Demon energy then I would, but I can’t.”

Natasha and Wanda shared a look, having a silent conversation in the space of seconds before turning their attention back to you. “That’s not necessarily true love.” Wanda said.

“It will be painful but…well demons aren’t born. They’re made.” Natasha explained.

“And if you wanted to…”

You didn’t even hesitate before giving your answer. “Yes.”

Taglist:

@lucydiibi

[liyuesbian]

✧ pygmalion!au [ningguang]

notes: btw idk how commissions from museums work i just made the process up LMAO and this one's kinda angsty? i mean, it is the pygmalion greek myth so iykyk. also, i describe this figurine of ningguang here but w/o the colour... i've linked it in case any1 needs the reference. (btw, this is not set in ancient greece specifically)

only yesterday had you been commissioned by an art gallery in the capital to create a piece for their up-and-coming collection titled desire, love and identity. yet here you are, slaving away to make the perfect image you had in your head come into fruition. your vision is exquisite once sketched on paper—you can't find any faults in it so you take the risk.

as soon as your chisel meets the marble, a feeling so invigorating dominates your body. no further references are necessary as you place your trust entirely on your hands, coarse from the labour. you find such mindless toil addicting and you work day and night, only stopping for a half-baked meal and the odd collapse into bed.

for months, love streams out of the tips of your fingers and through your sculpting tools to arrive at the stone figure. you sincerely hope the intimate emotion has been reached.

when you finish, you wipe the bead of sweat running down your forehead, rest the other palm on your hip and take slow steps backwards all while maintaining eye contact with the statue. a wave of sweet relief hits you and you fall to the floor, uncontrollably sobbing into tired hands that still grip the hammer and chisel.

it's beautiful.

you stagger, struggling to get up with your bruised knees while clumsily wiping the tears off your stained cheeks. setting the instruments aside, you lift your head to admire your handiwork up close. a woman made of stone sits elegantly atop an oriental chair, crossing her smooth, white legs over each other. her left elbow is propped on the arm of the chair while on the other side, a long smoking pipe is balanced between gloved fingers. around her lies an assortment of objects: a vase containing scrolls, a floor lamp, and a charmingly decorated folding screen.

you see, you had already thought it all out. you'd imagined ningguang's preferences for a life of luxury, her affinity for constructing and sprucing up interiors. she would be a master of the trades and a woman who likes to keep an air of mystery around her. and like how you increasingly project her to be more of a person than she ever will be, there is a creeping concern in the corner of your mind that you will lose your rationality just as quickly.

the sculpture's body is clad in a qipao with a slit that reveals alabaster skin below the waist. the dress—embellished with patterns and neat linings—hugs her figure and shows off a lean build. the extensive train and sleeves of the fabric are shaped curvaceously to mirror the flow of a waterfall. and her face. the section you strived so hard to refine. she stares at you with an imperious expression and a hint of a smirk. her gaze, so piercing, makes you avert your eyes in shyness but you find yourself gravitating back to her profile.

you muster up the courage to draw closer to your creation and unconsciously stroke her cheek with your thumb, captivated. if she were an empress, you'd be a common peasant—undeserving of setting your sights on such a goddess. you can feel your soul being sucked into eyes devoid of emotion—of anything, actually. after all, the woman sitting before you is not a person but an inanimate object.

the weeks following the completion of ningguang—which is the name you've picked up the habit of calling her—are spent in said lady's company. every minute of every day, you surround yourself with her presence as if she is your closest friend. you eat with her, tell her your troubles, even going so far as to decorate her with various types of jewellery and bringing her gifts you think she'd like.

"thank you," you whisper. "for always listening to me." in truth, you're always so immersed in your work that you forgot what conversations could feel like. though, you fear your art would never be on par with something so transcendent ever again.

you become curious, wondering what she would be like if the nymph in front of you were not just a figment of your imagination.

you perch yourself on top of ningguang's stone-cold lap and trace the contours of her visage. you inspect each crease on her lips and the minuscule crinkles in her eyes, applauding yourself for the well-crafted details. you don't know what possesses you but you close your eyes and press your lips against hers, hoping that once you open them, a living being would erupt from underneath the marble. but, of course, as soon as the light hits your retinas, ningguang is as unmoving as ever.

realising what you've just done, you drop off of her thighs and laugh anxiously. however, you could've sworn that you had felt warmth in the lips of your beloved muse.

"i've finally gone mad!" you cry aloud.

hell, you say to yourself, is it even possible to fall in love with such an... an artefact? you dismiss your glaringly obvious infatuation.

"nonsense," you mutter under your breath, sensing your heart breaking slightly. how can something so painfully humanlike also not be human at the same time? you must've caused a tremendous atrocity in your past life to have made the gods harbour a grudge against you. of all things, you'd never have guessed that a lifeless piece of art would be the object of your desire.

you can't bear to look at the handcrafted lady any longer and with an anguished face, cover her with a large cotton cloth. the plan was to wait until you could hand the statue over to the curators and try to ignore its existence until then.

for a few days, you act according to the plan, going about your daily routine but eventually, your stoic demeanour crumbles. you lock yourself in your room refusing to eat or believe that your affection would never be returned.

during the hours of sunlight, you weep under your sheets, drowning in self-inflicted sorrow. and at night, you do the same, lamenting over the loss of what could've been your true love. she would've been so perfect in your eyes, your other half, and the only one who could calm this growing turmoil!

the reality pains you. hence, you do the only thing you can do: you pray. you pray to the gods for a miracle, that the light of your life would stride into your room and pull you from the depths of despair... but she never does.

your last day "cohabitating" with the sculpture has arrived and for the first time in—what felt like—an eternity, you open the doors to your workshop. taking a deep breath, you unveil the stationary maiden.

it's still as beautiful as you remember.

you give it a sad smile, wanting to get its departure over and done with. you manoeuvre about the room to prepare the things for the movers who're due to come in a couple of hours. while you go down your little list of errands to be done, you cough and bat away the smoke—wait, the smoke? frantic, you spin around, eyes darting everywhere in search of its origin until they land on the smoking pipe you so intricately moulded for the commissioned piece.

it's strange, you don't recall colouring the statue. and how on earth is smoke coming out of the pipe? suspicious, you approach the motionless entity and almost stumble when you spot its chest rising.

oh lord! — i really must be descending into madness! you clutch your head, clawing at your hair in hysteria.

"stop, please don't hurt yourself." the sound of a low, worried voice penetrates your ears. you shut your eyes tight.

"no, the gods have cursed me! i mustn't listen to your poisonous words!" you exclaim. your state of agitation is alleviated when the woman caresses your tensed arm.

"what has happened to you? i haven't seen you lately either." the tone is more soft and more tender than you had imagined. you release your grip.

"is it really you, ningguang?" your voice cracks at the end, and the woman you sought after witnesses your features twist into an expression of longing and hope.

"yes, my darling. i dare not go anywhere else."

helplessly, you rush to cup her face to check for heat, for the blood traversing under her skin—anything that would prove that your sweetheart is truly alive and breathing. and when you do get the confirmation, you beam, trying to withhold tears born from elation.

you bend down to kiss ningguang, who is still seated on the chair, once, twice, and three times to rid your scepticism. oh, deities! she's real.

"i love you," you declare.

"i know." you watch as the same creases you'd etched on the corners of her eyes spread into a loving half-moon shape and you kiss her again.

you reach a conclusion: you couldn't give away your lover—let alone a live person—to be displayed as part of a museum exhibition so when the workers arrive, you hide your muse away in another room. you apologise profusely and spin a lie, rambling on about how you had nothing to relinquish for the piece you had prepared had been oh-so-viciously stolen by a mob of trespassers!

the movers share with you their sympathies and ask what the work of art looks like and maybe they could sort something out with the authorities. nodding, you recount—so ardently—the details of your divine maiden. you feel heat rush to your face, chuckling when you realise that you'd run your mouth for too long.

in response to this, the two labourers exchange dubious looks as they peer at the static sculpture standing in the middle of the studio—its appearance unmistakably matching your elaborate description.

[im-in-vin-ci-ble]

Heyy could I possibly request f!OC x Mark, in which the OC is Red Rush’s daughter who also inherited his powers. Set before the events of episode one maybe at a Guardian’s work party or smth. Mark and OC are hitting it off in a ‘Idk what’s going on my dad just works here’ solidarity during the party; while her doting and protective father Josef is keeping an eye on them, unsure about how he feels about his favorite sidekick growing up on him. Maybe Olga and Debbie try to be matchmakers too lol

A/N: okay well this is CUTE AF, I love this sm thank u for requesting <3 also josef and olga are married here, no one dies (yet) and everyone is happy!!!

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Fem!OC

Rating: T

Warnings: mild swearing

The annual Guardians of the Globe Founder's Day party was never really Zasha's scene. It mainly consisted of the Guardians and the Global Defense Agency's families, and more often than not, she was the only one in her age group. Her true purpose there was to really just pay her respects to the people — including her father, who people knew as Red Rush — who protected the planet.

This year's Founder's Day event was different, however, as Omni-Man finally accepted the party invitations he'd been ignoring for years. Although there were jokes that he had accidentally RSVP'd to the party, or that his wife had accepted the invite behind his back, everyone seemed happy, and still pleasantly surprised, when he and his family walked in.

Sitting down with a non-alcoholic beverage in her hand, she watched as everyone shook hands with the powerful Nolan Grayson and his loving family. Zasha's mom, Olga, walked over to say hello and immediately dragged the three to where Zasha and Josef were. The two male superheroes first exchanged pleasantries, followed by Olga forcing her daughter to get up so she can properly be introduced to the teenage boy standing across from her.

"Zasha, hi," Debbie said with a wide smile as she gave you a warm hug. "This is my son, Mark. I don't think you two have properly met yet."

He extended his arm, "Oh, hi, uh, I'm Mark," he replied with a sheepish smile.

"Hi, I'm Z," she said as Olga gave her a soft push to move her forward. The young girl's eyes threw daggers at her mom before politely shaking his hand, "Nice to meet you."

"Are you all hungry? They've got a lot of food," Olga told the Graysons, leading them and Josef, who squinted his eyes at Zasha and Mark, over to the buffet table.

Zasha and Mark looked at each other awkwardly and exchanged nervous smiles. He began to rock back and forth on his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets as he attempted to think of what to say.

"So uh, how's... superhero training?" he asked.

"Uh, good," Zasha answered, nodding her head. "We managed to take down Titan yesterday so that was pretty cool."

"Oh yeah? That's great," Mark exclaimed. "How about, um..." he scratched the back of his head, "Is the, i-is the drink... good?"

She looked down at her cup and clicked her tongue, "You know for a party that's sponsored by the government, you'd think they'd have better catering."

He chuckled, "If I knew this was going to be a boring party with adults and toddlers and no good food, I would have at least brought a snack and some comic books."

Zasha sat back down and looked up at him with a smile, "Well you better take a seat, buddy, because the next few hours are going to make you wish you were being hurled at buildings instead."

She gently patted the seat next to her and Mark accepted the offer. "Do you go to these things a lot?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," Zasha replied. "You are so damn lucky your dad never wants to come to a Guardians event."

Mark laughed, "You know what, I used to be really jealous of all the families who got together during these events but right now, I'd do anything to just go home." He looked around and sighed, "I don't even know most of these people."

"Me too, and I've seen their faces at least thrice a year ever since I could remember," she agreed. "Actually, I think this is the first solid conversation I've had with someone at these things."

"Really?" he asked in shock.

"Really," she answered, taking a sip of the bland orange juice that now mostly tastes like water. "Most of the guys who are my age that have attended aren't really cute, nor are they interesting, so meh."

Mark's head snapped up at that remark and he felt the warmth rush up to his cheeks. "The other guys aren’t... cute and not... interesting?"

"Hell no," Zasha laughed. "Have you ever tried connecting with a person who has no special abilities but know you're a superhero? It feels like talking to a wall."

He crossed his brows, "What do you mean?"

She sighed and leaned forward, "They usually ask me what being a superhero is like, but when I tell them that I managed to take down a man with rock for skin, it's like I'm a freak."

"You're not a freak, Zasha," he replied. "And any guy who feels that way about a girl who's trying to save others sounds like a shitty person."

"And they're not even cute!" she added.

"And they're not even cute," he repeated after her with a laugh.

Zasha sighed again and sat back up. She looked over at him and briefly examined his face, "Well it's a good thing you are."

Josef turned around and watched as the 17-year-old boy chatted up his daughter, as well as literally take his seat at the table.

He held on to Olga's arm and leaned in, "I don't like what I'm seeing over there."

Olga turned to look then laughed at her overbearing husband. "They're just talking, Josef," she said. "It's not Zasha's fault she can enjoy a pleasant conversation and you can't."

"Mm..." Josef groaned, "I don't like it."

"Don't like what?" Debbie asked from behind.

Olga walked over to her and excitingly yet subtly pointed at Zasha and Mark, who were now facing each other now laughing. "Josef's worried that Zasha won't have time to be his daughter anymore if she ever started dating boys," she explained to Debbie. "You know he scares off every single boy Zasha introduces to us? I'm worried she'll never have a boyfriend!"

"She doesn't need a boyfriend, Olga," Josef chimed in grumpily, crossing his arms as he watched the two like a hawk. "No one will be good enough for Zasha anyway. She can literally outrun all the boys she dates."

"So are you saying that my Mark isn't good enough for Zasha?" Debbie asked with half a smile, momentarily shutting Josef up before he nervously tried to form a sentence. "I'm just teasing, Josef," she followed, winking at him and almost warning him not to underestimate her son.

Olga chuckled, "It's good for them to bond. They're both teenagers and superheroes, if they ever date at least they won't have to worry about keeping secrets."

"Whoa, wait," Josef exclaimed. "They just met, who said anything about dating?"

His wife rolled her eyes at his remark. "We should, what's the term... hook them up," Olga said. "Debbie, ask Mark what's going on and I'll ask Zasha."

Debbie agreed to the plan and walked over to Mark and Zasha while Josef huffed in annoyance but stayed in his position; there was no way in hell he was going to keep his eyes off of them.

Debbie offered Mark some food from her plate but he kindly declined. "Good choice," she said. "For a party paid for by the government, you'd think they'd have better food."

Mark laughed and nodded in agreement, "That's what Z said!"

"Oh really?" Debbie replied with a playful smirk.

Mark and Zasha looked at each other as if they were sharing an inside joke before Olga called her daughter over.

"Sorry, mama is calling me," she told the Graysons as she excused herself.

"So..." Debbie trailed off, raising her eyebrow at her son whose cheeks were rosy red.

"Mom, please don't make it weird," Mark begged.

"You and Zasha seem to be hitting it off."

"I begged you not to make it weird," he groaned, covering his face.

"I was just asking!" Debbie said with a giggle. "Why are you being so offensive?"

"I'm not, mom, I'm just... ugh," he groaned again. "Please don't say anything to Josef and Olga. Don't make it weird."

"I won't, I won't," Debbie reassured him. "Are you gonna ask her out though?"

"Mom!"

"Okay, okay, I'm leaving," she said with a hearty laugh, nodding at Zasha who was walking back to her seat.

"Sorry about that, my mom was being strange," Zasha said. "Everything okay?" she asked Mark, who now looked like he'd been slapped over and over again.

"Yeah, yeah! Great! Everything's great!"

She smiled at him but Mark leaned over and kept his head down. Another moment of awkward silence fell upon the two; Zasha looked around while tapping her toes and Mark's sight was glued to the floor. From the corner of his eye, he could see his mom and Olga delicately signalling at him to make his move. He covered the sides of his face and continuously mouthed "No," but the two were unrelenting. He took a deep breath and finally sat back up, and looked over at Zasha who was still pretending to casually look around.

"Hey, uh, Z?"

She quickly looked over at him with wide eyes, "Yes?"

Mark looked behind her head and watched as Olga and Debbie were giggling and whispering to each other, like a bunch of high school girls who just saw their best friend talking to their crush.

"Uh, I'm hungry."

The smile on Zasha's face was quickly replaced with a look of confusion. "Okay... and?"

"Oh! Um," he cleared his throat, "do you... like burgers?"

Zasha giggled and nodded, "I do like burgers."

Controlling his urge to fist pump, Mark cheekily bit his lower lip and moved a little closer, "You wanna head out and grab a bite?"

"Uh..." she turned around and watched as Olga and Debbie quickly nodded their heads, her mom giving her a sign of approval to leave the party. "Sure, I'm starving."

Josef looked on as the two of them stood up and began to make their way to the exit. Sighing in defeat and sadness, he called them over to the place where he's been stationed at since the Graysons arrived.

"Papa, we're just gonna get something to eat," she informed him nervously, knowing his scare tactics when it came to the guys she introduced him to.

Josef's eyes softened as the sight of his little girl, who he knew and finally accepted was growing up. She was making her way into the world and as much as he wanted to always protect her, he knew that she was just as smart and as capable to start doing it herself.

He took his daughter's hand and held it tight, "Okay, call me if you need a ride home."

"I will," Zasha said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Love you, papa."

"I love you too," he replied with a smile that was immediately erased when he focused his attention to Mark. "Bring her home by 11:30, and no sneaking into her room by the window," he ordered the teenage boy sternly.

Caught by surprise by the sudden formality, Mark straightened his back and nodded. "Uh yes, y-yes sir, Red Rush, sir."

"Papa!" she exclaimed. "No more scare tactics."

"I'm sorry," he chuckled, "that was the last one, I promise."

[binniesthighs]

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

a/n: I sincerely apologize for the pain caused with last chapter...so naturally, i had to go and write more pain muahaha. i also apologize for the wait on this one, for some reason i had a weirdly hard time getting this one out of my head, ahhh i think I’m just lil sad about it all ending :( but! we’re almost out of the woods cuties!! thank you so very much reading as always!! <3 this is the second to last chapter and idk how to feel ahhhh 

Part 7 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, female reader x han jisung 

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) college au, rapper!changbin, rapper!jisung, establishedfwb!jisung, artist!reader, skz side characters, bestfriend!chan, bestfriend!felix, roommate!minho, explicit language, some kissin’ and that good, good makin’ out, soft n’ intimate body touchinggg, mentions of getting drunk in the past, mentions of a toxic familial relationship, gahhh lots of crying and emotions in this one but it’s bc we’re figuring things out :) 

CW: dub-con-ish scene due to conflicting feelings but it gets stopped pretty quick

Word count: 7.6k 

Chapters 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART ? 

Jisung shared his apartment with two equally messy boys. You had forgotten their names despite meeting them and seeing them around on more than one occasion. Lucky for you, they each had distinguishing features so you named them as such: tall one and younger one with white hair. Once upon a time the four of you had hung out and they weren’t unbearable, just a bit cookie-cutter as you had called it. Both of them were in the same music school as Jisung and didn’t have many other interests outside going to music shows and playing PC games while loudly shouting. 

There was never food in that apartment but somehow there was always dirty dishes in the kitchen. Sure, it smelled a bit like dirty socks, but you never paid too much attention to that when you would clambering in the door with your lips locked with Jisung’s. It was strange walking in not doing so. Tall one and younger one with the white hair sat on the couch eating pizza with feet kicked up on their banged up coffee table. They didn’t say anything as they watched you walk in, but merely rolled their eyes and pretended that you weren’t there anymore. 

“We can go to my room.” Jisung raked his hand through his greasy brown strands, then kicked aside approximately ten pairs of sneakers. He held onto your hand tightly--so tightly that his knuckles turned white. 

You nearly slipped on that rug that lined the wooden floors of their hallway. It wasn’t the first time. 

Just as the rest of the apartment was, Jisung’s room was strewn with all kinds of random articles such as dirty clothes, tangled up cords and old to-go containers. His bed was unmade; it was those navy sheets that likely hadn’t been washed in several weeks. You could never really pinpoint what they smelled like, just that they smelled like him. You had spent nights there too, but they were nothing memorable. No groggy mornings with coffee or sunlight streaked onto his features for you to admire in the golden sheen. It had been running late to class and the dozens of times that you had left jewelry and hair-ties. 

“Wanna sit down?” Jisung patted the spot next to him, and you did so. 

The two of you sat in silence, the atmosphere became thick with the tangible sense of disaster that hung around the both of you. It was catastrophic.

His trembling hand came reaching for yours, and you let him take it. He sniffled, and it triggered your eyes to fill with the same hot tears. 

For the first time, you wondered, what am I doing here? 

“You want to lay down?” His puffy eyes asked you. 

You nodded, crinkling those bedsheets that were probably full of dust. 

In all your months of knowing him, you had never, never cuddled. This was the first time and you really weren’t even tied together anymore. 

His nose had turned pink, and he rubbed a bit of snot away with his wrist. 

“Thank you for coming here.” Jisung whispered. “But--what are you doing here? I thought that you were with Changbin now?” 

I am. You thought briefly. Am I? 

“I just...so confused right now. I don’t know...there’s just...I don’t know...” 

A tear fell down Jisung’s cheek, and you couldn’t fathom why he would be the one crying when it should’ve been you. You wiped it away. You had never thought of it before, but seeing him cry brought a sting to your chest. 

Jisung leaned forward, and the bed creaked lightly, then he kissed you. It wasn’t really a passionate one, but one that he had used to say more than he could himself. His lips tasted salty running over yours, and your brain froze deciding what to do. Jisung never changed: as broken as it felt, he was still starving, needy, and rough. You tried to find meaning in it, or if it made you feel. 

It didn’t. 

Jisung held your face in his hands, and with a hesitant sigh, he said, “I really, really wanted to do that for so long.” 

As desperate he had seemed for you, you couldn’t find the same desire if you had tried. Maybe, you had to find it? 

“Kiss me again.” You hushed. 

He licked his lips with a gaze softening. “Okay.” 

This time he swung his legs around your hips and straddled you with the kind of pressure that you had craved, once upon a time. He bent down to press even more of his heated desire on your skin. He was a good kisser, and you remembered once again how you really had wanted to have him kiss you like this, once upon a time. His tongue slicked against your bottom lip and you gave him the permission, testing it out just to see. 

You had thought back then that he was unreal. 

Jisung rutted his hips down into your waist, and you had already felt how he had hardened in his sweatpants. 

You knew how it would go...or how it used to.

“Baby, I want you so bad. You have no idea. I-I don’t think that I want anyone else besides you--” He broke to meet your eyes. Your world blurred, and sobbed out from under his gaze. 

What am I doing here? 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Worry flooded over his face. 

“I-I can’t do this, I shouldn’t do this, fuck--what the fuck am I doing?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Please just...get off of me. Please...” 

He did so, but still looked just as shocked. “Did I do something wrong?” 

He too started to tear up again. At last you could finally name what it was that tugged at his soft brown eyes. Fear. 

“Can you please tell me what I did wrong? Y/n, I don’t understand, you’re confusing me so much--” 

“--This isn’t right Jisung!” You nearly yelled with broken sobs. “We aren’t right.” 

Jisung’s face fell, crestfallen. “N-no--” 

“--We destroy each other!! Don’t you see?? Never have we ever been happy together, we’re just...coping! That isn’t love!!” 

“Then why the hell am I in love with you??” Jisung spat out the words, and then it was immediately evident that he had regretted saying them. 

A deadly silence fell over the room, and all that was left was the both of your weak sniffles. 

“What did you just say?” 

Jisung grabbed one the pillows then threw it down on the floor with a poof. 

“Fuck!!!” He literally shouted. His face had turned red, and snot dripped down to his lip. “I have fucking feelings for you okay?? Is that enough for you?” 

“Ji...yo-you can’t--” 

“I can’t what?! Is it a fucking crime? Listen, I’m scared out of my fucking mind saying this to you, alright? I don’t know why the hell I am but--” 

“--We-we can’t, Jisung..” 

“Can’t what?!” He threw his hands up into he air in his exasperation. “Stop fucking confusing me!!” 

“We destroy eachother.” 

Jisung grabbed another pillow to pummel to the ground, but then stopped himself, digging his fingers into the fabric until his nailbeds turned white. 

“We hurt eachother too much. An-and...I don’t think that it’s really our fault either. It’s just...who we are. I can’t give you what you want and you can’t give me what I want.” 

Jisung sobbed out horribly, then buried his face in his hands. 

“But I fell in love with you...?” His voice was terribly cracked. 

You watched as tears dropped into your lap and made little wet dots on your jeans. “I fell in love with Changbin...” 

His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, but still glistened, like the way that oil would slick in rainbows with the snow. 

“Then what are you doing here?” He asked one more time, but now he had appeared to be utterly broken. 

You rose from the bed, looking down at him and drying your face. “I...think I know why.” 

“And?” 

Outside of Jisung’s window, the view was similar to your own: city lights in an array of colors; each of them like stars on the ocean. On the wall adjacent from his bed, you noticed there was a crack. You had never realized that it was there before. 

“I’m admitting something that I should’ve a long time ago.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

You had likely forgotten to close a window in your apartment somewhere because the winter cold had pervaded the whole space. It took you about ten minutes to realize that it was in your bathroom from when you had taken a shower earlier to air let out the steam. 

The second thing that you noticed was the crumpled up blanket resting on the couch from before. For some odd reason, you felt the strong desire to wrap it all around yourself like you could capture some essence of him in it. Sure enough it did smell like that scent of his that you had grown so used to. You let the blanket trail behind you has you made your way to your room to pull on one of his shirts over your head. 

“Who told you that you could look so cute in that?” He had said one time. 

[23:16] Bin

me: can i call you? 

[00:18] Bin 

me: if you’re asleep, can I call you in the morning? if that’s okay? i said things that I didn’t mean...i just didn’t know it then. 

i’m so sorry 

how i treated you...you didn’t deserve that 

i understand if you’re mad at me. you have every right. 

i’m sorry that i couldn’t see that things that you were trying to show me. 

i see them now. 

You had thought that now the snow had finally faded into the edge of the winter that near it’s conclusion. Early March, and you wanting nothing more for spring buds to peep from the snow capped floral beds on street corners and for the white hugging the trees to dissapear forever. The winter had felt as if it had lasted for a year--even though this year you had seen less snow than other years. 

There had been a time when you firmly believed that once the snow melted, it would get better. Snow was a bitter memory, and it was curse that had to happen each and every year. 

The night that you had met Changbin, it had been cold. Cold like the winter that you had tried to hide from. You hadn’t thought of it until now, but he was much like the way that snowflakes melted on your skin. It reminded you of the icy coldness of the world for fleeting moments, then faded just as quickly as it arrived. The little wet mark of him warmed on your skin. 

Outside of the miniscule window to your living room, snowflakes got caught up in the edges of the frame, and sprinkled the surface of the glass in their variety of gorgeous fractals and unique shapes. A full moon was painted into the sky with a brightness that could’ve paralleled the sun on this clear night swimming in deep azure. 

You hugged the fabric of one of his shirts even closer to your frame, pretending for a moment that it was him that had been hugging you and not the cotton. 

“I’m so sorry.” You cried out weakly to the empty room. 

Your phone screen flashed with the time: [00:42]. You wondered, maybe he really had given up like he said that he would’ve. Maybe he walked home in the shivering cold, hands shoved into his pockets and decided that he was done waiting; that you weren’t worth his time and the effort. Maybe he walked in his front door, closed it behind himself, and said the words, This is it. No more. Maybe he walked into his room and cried. Maybe he didn’t. You couldn’t decide if you had wanted him to cry for you or not. Both hurt. 

[01:13.]  

Your eyes dragged with sleep, but your mind moved faster than the pace of your dry eyelids. Dust had settled on the white sheet that you had drawn over the painting in your room. On the underside of the sheet, globs of acrylic had dried and turned into multicolored flecks: a bit like the sheet was a piece of art and and of itself. It was nearly finished, and only had about one more quadrant left that was void of color. 

Your wooden pallet had been resting by the window, so it was cold to the touch--as were the little aluminum bottles of paint resting beside it. You used your shirtsleeve to dry away one tear that had battled its way to your lid, then sat back on your desk chair, facing the easel head on. 

Black first. Then deep blue, then bright yellow, burnt orange and gold. 

Hairs brushed over the canvas, and swept in wide strokes back and forth. With an empty mind, you smeared over the dark colors that faded to the edge of the canvas into the glowing light of the edge of the alleyway painted here. His figure was prominent, even though you couldn’t see his face. He wore black clothes that were simple. Frankly, you didn’t really remember what he had worn that night, but it didn’t matter much. Neon blue and red restaurant signs met on as reflection on his dark black hair. 

It was as if your chest and hand had been weighted down even further, but you fought through it to raise them. While you let the tears fall at first, they dried after long and made the skin of your cheeks tout. The room was silent, and so it was outside with the drifting snow. Soon, the painting would be finished, and you could sleep. You couldn’t sleep until then. 

if your art didn’t mean anything, what even was it? 

The pink lights lining your room provided the only light to the room, however not much else was needed than that. 

You bit your lip, now mixing yellow with red. 

If you couldn’t tell him. You hoped with every fiber that this would. 

[04:51] Bin 

me: if you’re up to it, can we talk? or, i can call you? 

goodnight  

wait its morning 

good morning then. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Chan was good at keeping his promises. There was not one time in your whole time in knowing him that he hadn’t kept a promise, no matter how absurd it might’ve been. He had promised you to buy you ice cream on the first day of snow, and he had promised to share his lyrics with you, no matter how much they would make him cringe. He promised that if you ever needed someone to watch your guilty pleasure reality shows with, he would be over as soon as he could. Next to Felix, you had figured a long time ago that if there were ever people in your life that you were destined to meet, he was one of them. Admittedly, there had been a time when you had harbored a crush on him, but as usual, you had been best at getting in your own way before anything could’ve happened. This, and you loved him as a friend too much. 

Too many jell-o shots were both of your enemies. Halfway into the driest seven minutes in heaven of your life, and halfway into your confession to him, he had passed out right in your arms. You were lucky that he had forgotten the event entirely. Or, he was keeping his promise that you had hurriedly made asking him to forget that it ever happened when you and Felix carted him out of there. 

While he was good at keeping promises, you more so wished that he had forgotten that one. 

Chan had promised that he would personally use his ID card to get into the soundproof booth in the music department to scream. 

You hadn’t ever taken him up on the offer until today. 

It was nearly midnight and unopened text messages still sat in in empty bubbles on your phone screen. 

Even though you had consistently texted “good morning” and “goodnight” for three days straight, the action of sending them didn’t make you feel any better. 

Chan didn’t ask any questions, but merely let you through the halls which echoed from your squeaking wet shoes. The green light of emergency signs appeared to be the only guiding lights, but Chan knew the way well. 

“Careful. The floor is slippery. They mop after everyone leaves.” He hushed in the silent hallway. 

Your fingers and lips cracked from the cold and felt tingly warming up in the dry heat of the building. The two of you turned two more corners, then Chan carefully wrapped his veiny and red hand over the handle to the door marked with “Studio Five.” He tapped his key to the reader, and it beeped with flashing green and orange lights. 

“Here. This is the entrance to the booth. I’ll enter from that door to get to the other side of the glass. You don’t...want me to go in with you?” 

“Want me to wreck your ears?” You have him a feeble smile. 

He mustered his own kind of strength that he had been keeping up just for you. “Hm. You’re right.” Your friend clicked on the light, and it burned your eyes at first compared to the black hall. “Take...all the time that you need, I’ll just be over there. If you wanna...talk about things, I’m here for that too.” 

The booth was an ugly shade of lime green, and you wondered how anyone could ever be creative in a place such as this. On the other side of the tinted glass, you watched as Chan flicked on the light, then made his way to push the button to the little intercom system. His voice buzzed with a tinny sound. 

“No one can hear you, so....go nuts.” 

The walls were too padded with black foam insulation, and for a moment you considered how strange it was, that you, had entered that place to scream--not make music like the room had been used to. Even though the walls were lime green. It still brought a sense of sadness to your chest. 

The room spun lightly behind your eyes, and you panted out frantically. 

What the hell am I doing in here? 

[23:29] bin 

me: I hope that you sleep well tonight. i’m thinking of you. 

“Is everything okay in here?” Chan’s voice said over the speakers. 

“W-what am I doing here?” You repeated the question, feeling panic rise up your throat. 

“Getting your anger out?” He tiled his head. “I-I don’t know why else because you didn’t tell me. You angry at someone? Something?” 

“N-no? --I mean, yes...I-I don’t know.” You said with uncertainty. Suddenly the foam walls of the room started to close in. “I need to get out of here.” 

“Woah! Woah! Y/n! What’s--” Chan chased you out of the room, back into the empty hallway with the squeaky floors and the green light. 

“Hey, let’s just...take a breather here for a sec.” Your friend reached out to smooth down your arms. “If you wanna talk about it, I can help maybe?” 

You tore from his gasp, then slumped against the wall to slide all the way down and sit on the cold linoleum floors with the heaters pumping steadily above your head. 

“He’s not...messaging me back, and I think that I royally fucked up this time. I think that I finally did it, I finally pushed him too far.” 

“Who? Changbin?” Chan crouched down to sit next to you. “Is that what this is about?” 

Shallow breaths filled up your lungs, “I think...I think I just lost everything that I could’ve had with him, and it’s all my fault...I’m fucking angry at myself, Chan.” 

“A-are you sure?” 

“I basically told him that I didn’t know if I wanted to be his girlfriend...after everything that’s happened, everything that he’s done and how patient he’s been...but...there was Jisung an-and...I realize that I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it, I want to be with him so fucking badly and I was just too caught up to see it and--” 

“--Stop!” Chan barked. “Stop and give yourself a second to breathe! Did you realize that you’re not doing that? 

You hadn’t. Nor had your noticed your shaking hands. However, Chan had seen them, and held them with his. 

“You said that you do want to be with him but you told him that you didn’t?” 

Somewhere in the hallway, one of the emergency floodlights blinked with a harsh white light. 

“Yes.” 

“And did you tell him that you didn’t mean it?” 

“I have but he hasn’t gotten back to me? He would always get back to me, no matter what it was--it makes me worry--” 

Chan cupped your hands then brought them to his chest where he held them earnestly. “Some things are out of our control, Y/n. And, I hate to say it but, now, I think you need to come to accept the possibility that maybe...” His gaze softened. “I’m sorry. I wish I could say something more or better but I’m not him and I can’t know...” 

You scoffed, “Is that supposed to be comforting?” 

Chan tsked, as he often would do with a little sarcastic drag to his voice. “A long time ago I promised you that I would always be honest with you, and you know that I hold to my word.

He rubbed his thumb into your hands. 

“Do you want me to say then to go running after him? Throw it all to the wind? Even if it doesn’t end up going your way?” 

“...Maybe.” You swiped a tear from the corner of your right eye. “Would it be worth it?” 

“Maybe.” He sighed. 

A silence filled the hall and the space between you two, and Chan kept holding your hand. It was a simple touch, but you hadn’t realized that you had craved something as such. 

“Y/n? Can I say something?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Even if it isn’t him that it ends up being, I think that you should know that you still deserve happiness in someone. Even after all that you’ve been through, you still do. It sounds like to me...you’re finally realizing it.” He smiled with a bit of a wrinkle to his lips. “I’m proud of you.” 

You squeezed his hand. “Thank you. Its...been a long time coming.” Your head hit the wall behind you with a slight thud. “I’ve been painting recently. And...it means something to me. I feel like I found something, like I’m seeing something for the first time in a long time and it makes me really... full. Like he does.” 

Your friend let go, then went to play with his shoe-laces. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was the final straw?” 

“He just...loved me different. Better than I ever could myself, and I think that it made me realize that in order for me to love him too, I had to make peace with myself, and just...” You breathed out a laugh, “...Chill the fuck out. But--I know that I can’t let go of it forever. What happened, made me. I can’t give that up, but that doesn’t mean that I should wallow in it forever. I don’t deserve that.” 

Chan leaned to give you a light slap to the arm. “Look at you.” 

“I...saw Jisung too.” 

While anger laced his voice, Chan remained level headed. “...And?” 

“Me and him just dug ourselves into a deeper hole. Even he...he could do better. He needs a “Changbin” too. You know? I can’t be that for him. I never was even close. I feel sorry. I should probably see him one last time...” 

The image of Jisung’s disparaged face burned in your memory in the midst of it all. Somehow you had forgotten that he had gotten feelings tangled it up in it all, and you had just left. Through all that you had been through with him, you couldn’t let it just go so easily. 

“There’s a lot of things that I need to make right.” You sighed out with finality. Next to you, your best friend did the same. 

“Whatever happens, Felix and I will be here for you. Like always.” 

“Mm. Thank you, Chan. Really. Thank you so much. The two of you are the best friends that I could ask for. I don’t know how you put up with me...” 

“Ahhh, don’t mention it.” He shoved his shoulder into yours playfully. “Ya know, if this goes south, we could just date.” 

“What?!” Your head whipped over to him so hard it hurt. 

“As I recall, about a year ago all it took were some jell-o shots...” 

You smacked him upside the head, causing him to burst out laughing in that empty hall. 

“I told you to forget about that!!” 

“I’m just joking!! Jeez! Can you take a joke!?” 

You laughed with him, your goofy and kindhearted best friend. You realized it hadn’t happened in quite some time. 

“Yeah Changbin is alright, but me and Felix are forever. Got it?” He teased, and you slumped your head on his shoulder. 

“I know.” 

In your pants pocket, your phone vibrated and flashed with a white light. 

[01:36] L. Minho 

minho: i fucking hate that i’m in this position 

but 

bin’s in a bad way and i’m fairly certain that he hasn’t told you about it all 

idiot. 

anyway, his parents are being shitty assholes and i think that he really needs you right now, even if he isn’t saying anything about it. actually i know that he does. 

i also wanna ask you to kindly resolve whatever shit that you have going on before you walk in our door. out of kindness for both yourself and him. 

sorry not sorry. i really do love the both of you and it hurts me to see it be like this. 

i suggest that you come over as soon as you can. 

Your heart beat its way into your throat with a million emotions, but out of them all, fear for Changbin ached the most. 

 “Chan, I have to go.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

It was likely Minho who had buzzed you in. 

Luckily, the night had somehow gotten warmer--at least warm enough to where you couldn’t see your breath in front of your face any more. Unfortunately though, you had still worn the shoes that Changbin would scold you for wearing on snow-packed nights. Luckily, the snow had started melted too. 

The door clicked when it unlocked, and you slid inside the glass entrance that was smudged with fingerprints and the wet from dog’s noses pressing on the surface. 

For a reason unknown to you, you decided to take the stairs--even though he had lived on the seventh floor. Partially you had decided that you had done so because it meant that you had more time with your thoughts; more time to decide if you really had resolved all the shit that you needed to leave on the outside of his doorstop. 

You thought back to the painting sitting finished in your room. It waited in all of it’s beauty for the sun to shine on it and the rest of the world to see it. For him to see it. It was for him that you had painted it in the first place. Every ounce of pain and confusion was lathered across the canvas, it was bare for anyone to see after you had kept it concealed for so long. 

He would see it. 

You took each step slow and carefully, and listened to the way that the sound bounced off of the walls and how the carpet matted on each stoop.

Chan had said, “Even after all that you’ve been through, you still do.” 

Minho opened the door after three clicks wearing a bathrobe and slippers. For being so distressed like his message had said, he looked perfectly cozy. You remembered that Minho really was one to keep it all together when shit would get intense. Somehow he had the ability to write whole papers over the course of one day and had passed tests after studying for only four hours. You wished you could manage as well as he could. 

“Fuck. It’s late.” He rubbed his eyes. “Come in. Take off your shoes please.” 

You did so, and rubbed your toes into their carpet. It was almost as if you were waiting further instructions, but you knew full well what you had to do. 

Minho glared at you expectantly. “Well? Shits left outside?” 

“Shits left outside.” You repeated with a nod. 

“l’ll let him explain. It isn’t really my place. Just--listen to him okay? I think that’s what he needs right now.” 

The apartment itself was a bit barren, the only things that were placed in the small space were the things that the inhabitants needed: a dining table, a leather couch, a TV set, a few beanbags and a kitchen kept clean by Minho. It was strange seeing a place so organized and...neat. It was as if this apartment was from an other side of the world compared to what you had grown used to previously. Changbin’s thick and dark black coat hung on one of the dining chairs, the same that he had worn the night that he had last seen you. You wondered if it had been sitting there these past few days. 

“Go on.” Minho flapped his hands to usher you down the hallway to Changbin’s room. At the end of the hallway was the bathroom, and seeing it flooded your skin with the feeling of warm water and defrosting skin, lips on lips with heated desire; tracing fingertips that got caught with the translucent stream of water as they brushed down spines and hips. If you could’ve gone back to then and done it all over...you wondered if you would’ve. 

“Knock first.” Minho mouthed. 

You did, breath hitching when it opened slightly, and you called out his name. “Bin? Its me. Can I...can I come in?” 

His hesitant voice called back to you, “Yes.” 

He was a crumble on his bed, black socks twisted up with his dark bedsheets and his hoodie riding up his back to expose a sliver of skin where he laid facing away from the door. His beautiful dark hair was knotted. 

“B-Bin? A-are you okay?” You advanced forward carefully, reaching out to touch his arm. You had never seen this confident and headstrong man reduced to something so small, it broke your heart into shards to see him as such. You didn’t know what to do with yourself: sit with him? Stand? Crawl in to bed next to him? Unspoken words filled the air, and he sniffed out loudly into it. 

“Thank you for messaging me still.” Was what he had said first. “I saw them a little bit ago. I was...too scared to open them at first...your messages. I was...ashamed to...” 

“--Bin,” You took two steps closer. “You don’t have to explain yourself.” 

He sniffed in with a clogged nose once more. “I’m sorry.” 

Two more steps. “No, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry that I didn’t listen to you, and took all of your patience with me for granted. I really don’t deserve it. I tore you up, and that was awful of me. You somehow ended up being collateral damage to me figuring my shit out and I can’t say I’m sorry enough. I understand if you don’t want to keep this going that we--” 

“--Can you get into bed with me?” He suddenly interjected. Changbin twisted his hand back as if he knew that yours was there in some superhuman way, and grabbed at it. “It’s...cold.” 

Your heart paused, uncertain if you had heard him correctly. 

“Please?” Changbin muttered. “Two bodies is warmer than one.” 

Silently, you crossed the room and shimmied off your coat so it fell to the floor. It had been partially absentminded, but you had pulled on one of his shirts that day. It was light grey, and had nearly lost all semblance of his scent on it. You pulled the covers over both of you, peering just enough to see his puffed and red eyes and red wet nose. Seeing him like this, you had to fight every instinct to pull him into your arms, but rather keep a respectful distance. 

From seeing the way that he dominated the stage to how he looked under the soft glow of your pink lights, to how he had looked as thin and as fragile as glass now, it had all finally made sense to you. As brash and forthcoming as he was, it wasn’t all of who he was in the slightest. If anything, it was who he had pretended to be. 

Tears fell over his pink lips. “I didn’t tell you because...I was embarrassed. Fuck,” He laughed a little, “It’s so fucking pathetic. I’m so pathetic for getting so messed up over this all. I-I shouldn’t. That and...it’s not something that you should--”

“--Don’t you dare say that I shouldn’t worry about this Bin. How many times do you need me to say it?” You traced his dark hair over his ear. “What happened to being each other’s problems?” 

He smiled with a weak grin, then wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “Minho didn’t tell you?” 

You shook your head. “He said that you should be the one to.” 

Changbin sighed out, then pulled the comforter up to his nose, adjusting himself to meet your eyes with his that were strained with pink. 

“They’re disowning me. For real this time. They asked me to do a legal name change and everything...as if...they’re cutting me out of the family line. Fuck, I mean, they basically are.” 

His chest shook with an inhale, and a thick and burning mucus felt as if it had clung to your throat. It was anger and rage, the kind that was so foreign to you, it even started you to feel such a thing. 

“Bin, I’m so sorry. They’re...they’re fucking less than human is what they are. Treating you their own son like this...like they think that they can reverse time so that you were never even born of them...” Under the sheets your knuckles clenched so hard it bit the skin of your palms. “I-I’m sorry too...that you were going through this by yourself--” 

In one single motion he had spread out his arms to circle them around your upper body and pull it into hm. 

There he was again. Rosemary and cedarwood. 

You were in shock, but feeling the warmth from his body on yours made you shiver--it was the contact that you had craved so intensely now that you had it, it was so all encompassing that your brain scrambled feeling it. 

“Thank you for coming.” He whispered to the top of your head. 

Your hands snaked around his body, and you held him back. 

In that very moment, you had decided that you would spend the rest of your life holding him back if he would let you. If there was someone out there listening to your thoughts, you prayed that they would let you hold him. 

Changbin patted to top of your head with a trembling hand.

“What the fuck do I do?” 

Your fingers tugged at the thick cotton of his hoodie. 

“They said that either I meet with them to sign away my name, or I pack up, and go back with them as if nothing happened. They said that they were willing to “forgive” everything that I had “done” if I chose to come back home with them, so to school, and forget everything that I’ve ever written, performed...” 

“They said that??” 

The young man remained silent, but instead nuzzled further into you. 

“They said that they could arrange for a meeting with their legal team to finalize it in as little as two days if I decide to do it. Those assholes expedited the whole process and called up their lawyers to make it happen as quick as possible...” 

“Bin...” You cooed, and smoothed up and down his back. Being close to him like this you could nearly feel his own heart breaking in his chest against yours. 

“Do I forget everything that I was to chase this...dream? Or do I go back, get their support, live a normal life...” 

“--Stop.” You gently pushed his hand away to look up at him. “This, all of this is your life Changbin. It’s what you’ve worked hard for relentlessly and it’s what makes you happy, isn’t it? Yeah, it’s harder to do, but you’ve gotten so far, people love you! You’ve made a name for yourself, people want to hear your music--” 

“--Yeah, my names gotten itself out there a little too well for my parent’s opinions.” 

You wiped a tear cascading from one of his exhausted eyes. “They should be proud of you, not trying to suppress you.”  

“They...don’t want me to be Changbin any more. Do you know how that feels? I’ve lived my whole life being me and now they just want to take away the very last thing that I have that they didn’t touch?” He stifled a sob. 

“Hey! Just because you change it on paper, doesn’t mean we have to call you that!” You laughed out gently, “If you want to get a driver’s license or something it might be important...but, you’re always going to be Changbin to me, and Minho and everyone else who knows you. A name is just a word. You make up who you really are.” 

Changbin laughed out, then returned his hand to pat at your head. 

“Who told you to say that?” 

You chuckled back at the way that he had turned your words back on you. “No one.” 

“I’m just me, but...” Under the covers, your legs intertwined. “I think that if we compare a life of missed oppurtunties to a life where you leave a couple things behind, its worth leaving.” 

Body heat swirled between the two of you, and it was as calming as a song. Changbin brought his hand down to caress the side of your cheek with as much gentleness one would with those fragile snowflakes. 

Past his shoulder, your eye caught a small piece of paper that had been pasted to the wall above his desk: right in a space where he could see it if he had sat at his desktop. It was crinkled and held several creases and the lead that had been used to draw on it had smudged as if it had rubbed up against itself. 

It was a picture of a bench, some Christmas lights, and the city skyline behind it.

Tears flooded your eyes, and then fell freely onto his his fingers where he held your face. They caught in the corners of your mouth, and heated up your eyes. 

“Woah, hey, what is it?” Changbin rubbed away the wet and pulled you even closer to him. 

“Y-you kept it?” Your voice wavered. 

“Kept what?” 

You pointed a shaking finger to your drawing posted on the wall, and his eyes widened at first like he was embarrassed, then he slowly faded into something much softer. 

He nearly whispered the words, “Of course.” 

“W-why?” 

“It reminded me of you and that night. I think that I realized something then.” 

“What’s that?” He wiped your tears once more, stretching the skin of your face as he did so. 

“I realized that, well...I’m in over my head here.” He laughed out lightly. “Do you need me to say it again? I love you a fuck ton, alright? Getting over things, and healing from things...it’s not easy. You...don’t have to apologize for the mess of things and what it did to you. It’s not your fault.” 

You threw your head into the crook of his neck to sob openly. But I hurt you. I made you wait...I-I don’t wait you to wait any longer.” 

“And I made you wait too. My stupid...my parents fucked me up too, and I couldn’t get over the fact that this fucking mess that they made of me put a wedge between me and you. I didn’t feel like you deserved...I’m a mess too. A fucking nervous, cocky bastard at times and I don’t know how to talk about it. Isn’t that pathetic?” 

“What?? No--” 

“You wanna call it even then?” He grinned out, and it was his sly little smile that you had found yourself thinking of after you had seen it for the first time those months ago. 

“I--” 

“Damn. It does feel kinda good to talk about things.” He joked. 

You cried out his name even harsher, then melted into his whole body. He was boundless in the way that he had understood you, and how he had looked you without condition or pause. 

You don’t have to be scared any more. 

With your face muffled in the fabric of his shirt, you let the words fly of your tongue with reckless abandon, and it felt as if you had finally been rid of the crushing shroud fogging your mind, and chaining your heart. 

“I-I want you to be...my Changbin. An-and I want to be--” 

“--Wait!” Changbin pulled you back by the shoulders with a new and wild smile on his face that only grew wider by the second. A type of excited panic flamed in his chocolate brown eyes. “Willyoubemygirlfriend???” He said at light speed. 

You were confused as to why he had said it as such, but you nodded, finally feeling the sense of respite that you had searched so hard for. “Y-yes?” 

Changbin startled you with his sudden crack of laughter, then squeezed you so tight that it became hard to breathe. Once he let go looser, he bowed in deep to press dozens of kisses on your mouth and around it. Most of them missed the mark, but that didn’t matter to him. He only stopped for a couple moments to mutter the words, “I wanted to say it first.” You would’ve laughed had he not been attacking you incessantly with more and more pecks that you struggled to keep up with. 

“I-I’m sorry again that I made you wait--” 

Changbin rolled his weight over to lean carefully over your body tangled up in the sheets, then kissed away at your lips with “don’t say that’s “ quietly. “Thank you for trusting me.” He said quickly, then returned, pouring out oceans of admiration onto your lips until they felt a little raw. You kissed him back too, and you kissed him like you wanted to spend your whole life holding him back. His blissful little “oh’s” tickled at your lips, and you giggled at the way that they vibrated. 

Once you had properly kissed nearly all of the air out of each other’s lungs, you laid back, gasping, and each still a bit bewildered. 

“Thank you for trusting me too.” You turned your head to look at him where he lay with quickened breaths quaking his chest. 

“When I go through with this name thing, can you...be there?” 

“Yes.” 

“Thank you.” He said, barely loud enough for you to hear. His strong hands fell down his shirt which you wore; down to the small of your back where he snuck up the fabric. His fingers tickled at your tiny hairs there. 

“I have one more loose end to tie myself. One more place that I need to make peace.” 

Changbin nodded. “Mm. We’ll get through it together.” 

To your surprise, Changbin then took to pulling his sweater over his head, revealing his bare chest, then pulled off his pants from his legs a bit awkwardly under the covers. 

“W-what are you doing?” 

He giggled, then pulled at the hem of your shirt for you to do the same. 

“Trust me.” He whispered. 

You held his eyes as you did, and your bare skin too met the crinkling edges of the sheets which were a bit colder than you had expected. Changbin watched as you did so with a prideful little grin. 

“I-I’m confused.” You hugged your arms over your cold torso. 

“You’re so gorgeous.” He merely muttered, uncrossing your arms for him to look at you fully, then pulled you by the under sides of your chin back to his lips. He pulled gently at your bottom lip with his teeth. “Clothes were getting in the way.” He hushed, then set to unhooking your bra behind your back. 

“Getting in the way of what?” 

“Me being as close to you as I possibly can.” 

While he had said the phrase calmly, it still sent heat rising straight to your cheeks. 

“I want to hold my love like this for as long as she’ll let me. Can I?” 

Your two bodies met in the middle, flush, buzzing with a kind of giddy energy that only heightened the more curious that your hands got eating up each other’s presence. 

“As long as you’ll let me do the same.” 

You couldn’t quite tell, but it had almost felt as if Changbin had scribbled little invisible messages into the skin of your back. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” He answered. 

You took his wrist to kiss at the line of a scar that lived there. Naturally, Changbin blushed rosy from the action--then promptly pretended that he just hadn’t. 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

[thebeautyoffanfics]

Hi!!! I was wondering if you could write a oneshot for Teru Minamoto where the fem!reader had to get braces, and she's nervous about talking to, smiling around, or just going near her best friend(and highkey crush), Teru, because she's nervous he'll think it's weird, and he's confused as to why she's not hanging out with him anymore until he finds out through Kou or Akane, so he tries to get her to hang out with him again and it ends in a soft confession?

Then they pick out bands together

If that's too much, if you don't want to do it, or you want to do headcanons instead, that's totally alright!! Not everything has to be exact! Thank you so much in advance!!! ❤😁😊

teru minamoto x f!reader

a/n: hello!! Sure thing, it’s not too much at all <3!! Also, assuming this is about a personal experience, just know braces are sooo adorable- i’m sure they’re a pain to have, but idk they’re genuinely just c u t e - anyway, i hope you like this!! I feel like it’s a bit jumbled at the end, and i’m really sorry for that,,

warnings: none <3

word count: 1,665

If there’s one thing you could describe Teru as, the word count most likely be “perceptive.” Yes, that wasn’t all there was to him- everyone was well aware, no matter how they looked at Teru, that he had character. One thing most also would use to describe him, be it because they knew him personally or only saw him at school, was kind. And the kind, perceptive Teru was quick to notice something off about the way you were treating him. He saw you in the halls, a nervous closed-mouth smile on your face as you talked to a friend. He watched as your eyes met his, watched as you saw him wave, and watched as you dismissively waved back, looking away from him quickly.

It continued on throughout the day, gaining much of his concern.

“(Y/N). Are you feeling alright?” He had asked at one point, spotting you as you were carrying your lunch to wherever you planned to eat it. The same nervous look crossed your face as you nodded. You tried to bring a hand to cover your mouth, trying to play off the action as you told Teru you were feeling fine.

Then, like that, you nodded your head and sped off.

Those interactions were enough to leave Teru absolutely perplexed. Had he done something? Said something? Did someone else say something about him? He racked his brain, trying to remember anything that could have upset you. Nothing immediately came to mind, and the school’s prince finally heaved a long sigh.

To that, the only other person in the room, the student council’s Vice President Akane, gave Teru a sideways glance. Teru glanced at Akane, raising his eyebrows. “What?”

“What do you mean what?” Akane questioned, narrowing his eyebrows at Teru.

“What are you looking at? The paperwork is right there. Could you be slacking off?”

“I’m looking at some boy who just uncharacteristically sighed. If anything, you’re the one slacking off-”

“Actually, I’m ahead.”

Akane rolled his eyes, stopping himself from mocking Teru as he continued his work.

Teru looked back at his work as well, tapping his pencil a bit as he found his spot back on the paper.

“Alright. What’s wrong?” Akane asked, sitting back and sending a slight glare to the pencil Teru had just been tapping. Normally, the student council room was entirely silent, and Akane was beginning to take Teru’s sighs and taps as him basically shouting “I’ve found something that upsets me! Care to know why?” Though it may not exactly be intentional, it was still somewhat of a disruption compared to the normal.

Teru sat still for a moment, before shrugging a bit. “Aren’t you friends with (Y/N), Aoi?”

“Yes. Why? If it’s anything weird, you know I-”

“Only have eyes for Ao-chan, yes, yes-”

“You don’t have permission to call her-” “So, as (Y/N)’s friend, do you…” Teru paused a bit, questioning whether or not he was really about to ask him something that he felt was so important, “know why she’s been acting so strange lately?”

“Oh. She got braces recently, and I think is feeling self-conscious about them.”

At that, Teru let out a soft, nearly silent, ‘oh.’ Nodding, Teru began to work on his paperwork once more, though his mind was anything but settled.

Why would she feel the need to be self-conscious around me…? It’s not as if she can help it. I’m sure she looks as cute as ever- I’d hope she thinks so as well… Teru nodded again, only to himself this time, as he silently agreed that he was going to try and make (Y/N) feel better.

-

The next day came soon enough, and Teru found himself already beginning to try and spot you in the halls.

“Good morning, (Y/N),” He said, waving to you as you passed each other in the hall. You glanced over, opening your mouth to respond, but shutting it quickly. You settled for waving, as you gave him a tight-lipped smile. After you were out of sight, Teru frowned a bit, truly accepting that you were bound to be stubborn about it. Luckily for him, Teru knew a thing or two about being stubborn.

The day passed quickly enough, and full of Teru trying and failing to make conversation with you. Attempts to walk with you in the halls failed thanks to both his fans and the excuse of “class is about to start.” Conversations were quickly dismissed with a nod and a wave. Even his offer to sit with you at lunch was rejected, as you muttered that you already promised to sit with someone. However, Teru wasn’t giving in, the final offer finally able to be set in motion.

As you stood by your locked, placing things in your bookbag, Teru made his way over. Once you stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder, you were met by the tall boy’s presence.

“Teru,” You muttered, glancing to the side as you attempted to hide your mouth as best you could. “Hey, (Y/N). I don’t have anything to stay for today- want to walk home together?”

Teru knew that was a rather normal thing to ask, and you did too. Often on days like those, he’d walk you home- in fact, he barely had to ask any more, simply requesting it for the sake of you know that he’d be walking home with you.

“Oh, uh… well-”

“Well?” Teru repeating, already reaching for your bag so you could carry it. You felt your face warm up as you searched your mind for an excuse, but- it was already too late, your bookbag taken from you and now settled on Teru’s shoulder. To that, you simply looked at the ground, beginning to walk alongside Teru.

As you exited the school, Teru glanced down at you, pondering what he should do.

“How was your day? I didn’t really get to talk to you much today,” He asked, glancing at the path, then back at you as you responded.

With your head still tucked down so he couldn’t see your mouth, you responded with, “it was fine, not much happened… what about yours?”

“It was alright. I wish you’d look at me though… I’d like to see your smile.”

“Ah, it’s- it’s not much to look at, I don’t think-”

“No matter what, your smile is beautiful, (Y/N). It’s enough to brighten anyone’s day, including mine. An actual smile though- not one of those forced, no-teeth smiles you’ve been giving me.”

You glanced up at him, meeting his half-expectant, yet still kind, eyes. However, you glanced back down, shrugging. Teru stopped himself from sighing, not wanting to seem irritated (since he genuinely wasn’t, he simply wasn’t sure how else to bring up the topic) and looked back at the path ahead. Silence ensued for a few more moments, before Teru interrupted it once again.

“I really mean it, (Y/N). You have a beautiful smile… really. Braces or no braces, all they’re gonna do is help you out a bit- it’s nothing you can help. Plus, to be honest, braces are pretty cute- as if you weren’t already. I haven’t been able to see them properly, so… I’d really enjoy a proper smile, if that’s okay?”

You paused completely, your footsteps stopping as you looked up at Teru. The compliments had made your face go slightly red, but you were more focused on how the boy managed to see right through you. “How did you…?”

“Aoi told me- don’t be upset with him though, it was all for my sake.”

This time it was your turn to sigh, as you continued to walk. You spoke up, not bowing your head as low as you had before as you did so, “I’m just… feeling a little… bad about them, I guess.”

“You don’t need to. (Y/N), I promise you, you’re cute both with and without braces. You mean too much to me for me to see you any less, you know? Both… inside and out, you’re a gorgeous person.”

You looked back up at Teru and noticed the slight blush on his face as he continued to look at you. Your face continued to warm up, as the compliments clicked, making a smile threaten to show. However, you covered your face before you could grin, letting out a half-hearted “stop” as you did so.

“I could go on forever, (Y/N). And I don’t plan to stop until you show me a smile,” He teased, placing his hands on his hips as he spoke.

“It’s not that important anyway, Teru-”

“It’s important to me… (Y/N), as your friend, and as someone who… cares about you deeply, I want you to feel confident in yourself. And I especially don’t want you to feel self-conscious when I’m around.”

“It’s not your fault or anything… though I don’t understand why you care so much. Really, I-”

“You say it like I haven’t been telling you all day,” Teru spoke, this time being the one to stop walking.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… I like you, (Y/N). So, I want you to love your smile as much as I do.”

A blush spread rapidly across your face as you opened your mouth, your brain practically short-circuiting at the sudden confession. You shut your mouth, before opening it once more.

“Oh…” You muttered, before realizing how that could sound too similar to a rejection- “I- I like you too, Teru. If… if that’s what you meant.”

Teru nodded, a sweet smile on his face that practically made your heart melt. The warm feeling in your heart made you feel a bit more nervous, yet you found yourself smiling without even realizing it. Teru’s smile only broadened as he placed a hand on the side of your face.

“There we go! And I was right, your smile is as beautiful as ever. I told you so.”