#The shading in this is breathtaking omg

[starrluvs]

Imagine.. Lin kaui trio getting caught in the middle of spicy time. Oh poor tomas is gonna have it the worsts 😭

𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐊𝐔𝐄𝐈 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐎 + 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐗

cw: fem reader, piv sex, established relationships?, loud sex, getting caught/walked in on, bi-han is a grumpy old man and a light sleeper, harumi is here too lol, smoke is a good boy ofc, mdni !

wc: 1.7k

a/n: im finally back to writing omg sorry for long wait :c but this was super fun to write omg nonnie i love this scenario so much!! i hope you enjoy🫶🏾💗

𝐁𝐈-𝐇𝐀𝐍 | 𝐒𝐔𝐁-𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎

“bi-hannn! oh my god—!” 

you were bent over on his desk in a face down ass up position as bi-han ravaged your insides with no mercy. the sheer power and speed of his thrusts trapped you in a euphoric state, relishing all the pleasure being delivered to you. 

bi-han’s chest was flush on your sweat covered back and his lips were close to your ear, forcing you to hear every provocative word and sound that left his mouth.

“calling out to any god won’t serve you any purpose, snowflake, not while i’m in control of you, ngh!—”

he feels the way you clench around his cock, making him grin and rest his face in the crook of your neck, placing chilled kisses all over it. having bi-han so close to you was starting to feel overwhelming.

the way his hands were planted on your hips, digging into your flesh and forcing your body to withstand his thrusts– you nibble on your bottom lip, squealing as your lover practically rearranged your guts.

the two of you were lost in the feeling of each other’s bodies, just striving to both reach your own highs. “f-fuck.. it feels so good– your cock, ah!- feels so g-good,” your words come out slurred and bi-han mockingly chuckles.

though, much to your surprise, you don’t get to hear your grandmaster’s voice talk back to you.

“brother, i was wondering if y–”

the cryomancer comes to a halt and your eyes widen as you see tomas standing at the entrance of bi-han’s office. both you and bi-han react and speak up in unison,

“t-tomas!?” 

“you imbecile! has nobody ever taught you the decency of knocking?”

the younger assassin’s face turns a deep shade of red, just standing like a deer in headlights, “i-i’m so sorry, i–” tomas’ eyes darted everywhere and it was obvious that he was desperately trying to avoid making eye contact with you and bi-han. 

tomas’ words seemed to be stuck in his throat, resulting in an awkward silence until the cryomancer groaned in annoyance, causing his younger brother to quickly exit the office and close the door shut.

to say you felt embarrassed was an understatement… but you didn’t have much time to ponder on that feeling once you felt bi-han pull out of you and mumble something to himself in a displeased tone. his lust filled expression from mere moments ago has returned to his usual grumpy look, and you noticed his cock started to soften back up rather quickly which caused you to pout.

“wait, bi-han!” you whine and and adjust yourself to (wobbly) stand up straight and grab on to the grandmaster’s toned arms, “you can’t just leave me hanging like that–”

meanwhile, tomas was quite sad he never got to ask if you and bi-han wanted to tag along for a bite at madam bo’s…

𝐊𝐔𝐀𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐆 | 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐈𝐎𝐍

“every part of you is breathtaking, my love.”

kuai liang’s big, warm hands traveled from your hips to your tits. he groped at them and took your nipples between his fingers, occasionally rolling and tugging at them. “mmm.. kuai..” your voice was breathy and your moans were anything but quiet, which was why you attempted to cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

the pyromancer chuckled from beneath you and called out your name, “none of that, i want to hear you.” before you could even make a next move, kuai liang’s hands traveled back down your body as he rubbed your swollen clit in quick circles with the pad of his thumb. 

you almost felt embarrassed by the way your cunt clamped down on his cock–

arching your back, you cry out and place your hands on kuai liang’s chest to keep yourself balanced. “oh, fuck!–” your bouncing comes to a halt as you begin to grind your hips in a smooth motion, making you feel his cock massage all the perfect areas of your sensitive walls.

he stops his motions on your clit to grab your rear, kneading and groping it to his heart's content. kuai liang hums in pleasure as you continue to roll your hips on him, “you have the body of a goddess, ngh..” his voice is raspy and he moves his hand up to your lower back, urging you to lean close against him.

a sigh escapes your lips and you gladly fall into his embrace, leaning into a sloppy yet passionate kiss with him. caging your body against his, the two of you both had your chests pressed together while your hands explored kuai liang’s messy undone hair, and his hands ran up and down your back.

kuai liang breaks the kiss and you whine, “can you, haah!– please..” your cheeks feel hot and you can hardly talk properly with how deep his cock was nestled inside of you. fortunately, the pyromancer understood what you were trying to vocalize.

he grins at you before grabbing a hold of your hips and fucking up into you, “mmph– is this what you wanted? tell me,” his voice and volume was under control, unlike yours— the sounds you made only became louder and more obscene. “yessss! shit, i needed th—”

“will you two ever shut up!?” 

the sudden sound of the door booming and the angered voice that follows makes kuai liang pause all of his movements. 

the pyromancer quickly tried to use the bed sheets to cover you up as much as he could. once you noticed who had barged in, you hid yourself in kuai liang’s chest out of embarrassment. “bi-han, what are y—” his voice was cut off almost immediately by the cryomancer.

“are you not aware of the time?” bi-han’s tone was undeniably rude and snappy, but you couldn’t bear to listen to the rest of his angry tangent. you felt kuai liang’s soft grip on your body as you continued to keep yourself covered. he then spoke up, “do you mind? you can’t just barge in like that, brother..” perhaps it was for your sake that kuai liang remained calm, but bi-han had no intentions of letting up, resulting in him giving the two of you an authoritative lecture before storming off grumpily.

maybe you’ll try and keep track of your volume next time.

𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐕𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐃𝐀| 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄

“does it f-feel good..?”

tomas was panting above you, completely entranced by the way your pussy squeezed around his hardened cock. you smile up at him, “of course, baby–” the sounds of your moans weren’t helping him keep his composure. 

the look on his face was to die for– his smile held a sense of relief and happiness to know he was making you feel good. it was as if he forgot how perfectly he was driving his cock against your walls.

tomas is a good boy, really. after all, he always makes sure your pleasure is the top priority. deciding to please you even more, tomas grasps one of your legs and throws it over his shoulder while leaning in closer to you. from this position, the thrusts of his cock only hit you deeper, making you arch your back and screw your eyes shut.

“open your eyes..please, ha, i wanna see you look back at me while i fuck you.” listening to his words, your eyes snap back open and look straight at him through a hazy, lust filled sight. tomas leans down to place a kiss on your cheek before dragging his lips to your ear and whispering out your name, “i t-think i'm close, ahh–” you dig your nails into his scalp, gripping on to his hair, “t-tomas, i think, mmph– i think m’ close too!” hearing your voice encouraged him to keep up his thrusts without getting sloppy– he needed to make you cum– he was desperate to feel the way your pussy pulsed around his cock whenever you climaxed.

he leans back up to face you properly, “tommyyy–” you called out to him and reached your free hand out to stroke his cheek. without any thoughts or hesitation, tomas leaned into your touch, speeding up his pace. 

the two of you were close. dangerously close– until the door opened and you heard two familiar voices…

“surprise!–”

you and tomas stop dead in your tracks before gasping and trying to cover each other's respective body parts. looking at the direction of the door, you see kuai liang and harumi, completely flustered and standing with plates of deliciously cooked meals to start the day off with.

“oh– apologies, we shouldn't have barged in like that, i–” kuai liang averted his gaze from tomas and looked at harumi, only hoping she would know what to say. though unfortunately for him, she didn’t.

in an attempt to wrap up this encounter rather quickly, the pyromacer suggests that he and harumi could kindly leave and wait until the two of you are done. your eyes darted back up to tomas, who looked red as a tomato. poor boy… you thought. no words were bound to leave his mouth as of now.

“there’s no need to apologize, kuai liang, truly. we’ll be down in a second!” you wanted to slap yourself for how embarrassingly out of breath you sounded, but judging by the way tomas’ face heated up, there were no thoughts registering in his brain that weren’t completely fried. 

kuai and harumi nod and gently close the door. as you hear the sounds of their footsteps take off in the distance, you let out a loud sigh. “come on, we’ve gotta get down there to eat.” pushing gently on tomas’ shoulder, you get him to snap back to his senses. was he totally blanked out from embarrassment? you’ll never know.

“yea, y-you're right..” he pulls out of you and scurries to get some clothes on. despite how embarrassing that moment was, you couldn’t help but giggle at how red tomas’ face still was as he changed into a clean and comfortable attire.

truth be told, he’d rather be banished from earthrealm than have to join kuai and harumi for their morning meal.

[tkaulitzlvr]

CITY VIEWS - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: after a long night at another award show, when you and tom arrive back to the hotel room, he's eager to show you the beautiful view from your balcony - in a way you would never have expected.

content: smut

a/n: i'm so sorry for not posting omg😭take this as my apology pls!! andddd i need more tokio hotel friends, so if ur 16+ then PLSSSS send me a message so we can talk! anyway love you all hope you enjoy💗

"beautiful, isn't it?" the low hum of tom's voice from behind snaps me out of my daze, eyes turning away from the complex skyline ahead of me. he offers a warm smile as he nears my stance, resting on the railing of the balcony with a soft hand dangling along the glass. i nod my head in agreement, turning my gaze back to the array of buildings ahead of me, staring in awe at the sea of light that adorns each inch of my vision, the sky, darkened with the coming of the night, displaying the final shades of deep purple before it is covered in a sea of black. i could quite happily sit and stare at the city, easily captivated by something so simple, though when tom rests a hand on my lower back, it is clear that he has other ideas.

“you look perfect baby.” i smile from ear to ear as tom’s breath tickles my neck from behind, thankful that the night is above us, otherwise he would quite easily see the light shade of red that my cheeks have turned. he has told me this all night, whether it be with flirtatious glances that he would spare me when no one was looking, or a suggestive squeeze of my thigh under the table. but he could show it over and over again, and i would still be left the exact same way - though this time i try to hide it. it’s impossible to ignore the steady hand that now trails lower downward, resting teasingly on the curve of my lower back, his lips ghosting the skin of my neck as i try to act like i don’t notice. my gaze remains locked ahead, face not daring to move an inch, knowing exactly what he wants, and more importantly, that i won’t be able to give in if i spare him even a glance.

the view is genuinely breathtaking though, so the task of keeping my eyes on it is not a strenuous one, but it somehow becomes next to impossible when his lips finally make contact with the skin just below my ear, placing a kiss so gentle that it leaves me wondering just what could happen if i surrender my composure, a dangerous mix of nervousness and excitement settling in the pit of my stomach. both of his hands are now wrapped around my waist, thumbs moving up and down the material of my dress, his chin coming to rest on my shoulder from behind. i sigh in relief, thinking that he has finally given up on the desire that has taken over him, regarding his soft touch as a simple act of affection. but it doesn’t take long for me to understand that i have misunderstood his movements, a soft gasp leaving my lips when he pushes my waist backwards, my ass now brushing against his - unmistakably hard - crotch.

“not now tom.” i whine, tilting my head back so that it rests on his shoulder, his breath fanning against my ear as he lets out a soft chuckle, squeezing my hips playfully. it goes silent for a moment, the air carrying nothing besides our steady breathing as tom’s fingers tap against my clothed stomach, though when he presses me against himself once more, i quickly realise that he won’t give up as easily as i had hoped.

“seriously, we can do something later, okay? i want to watch the view.” i attempt to loosen his hold on me, wrapping my hands around his wrists and prying his arms away, soon failing miserably as he only tightens his grip, pressing a slow kiss to my jaw.

“who says you can’t?” he questions, expression blank as i turn to meet his gaze, his eyes peering down at me, heavy with lust yet to be acted upon. i furrow my eyebrows, attempting to figure out what he is alluding to, though he doesn’t make it easy for me unless i say the words.

“what are you talking about?” he finds my cluelessness amusing, a soft laugh leaving his lips as he brings me even closer, my back resting against his chest as he pecks my cheek, his kiss lingering on the soft skin.

“i could fuck you right here schatz. what’s stopping us, hm?” he runs his hands across my hips, subtly grinding my body against his, an elongated sigh leaving his now parted lips. his tongue comes out of his mouth to swipe across his bottom lip, my mind flashing with ideas of what i’d rather him be doing with it, but the realisation of what he has just said is enough to snap me out of it.

“are you crazy? anyone could see us!”

“what from like 15 floors up? it’s just us baby, c’mon, let me make you feel good.” my mouth opens to speak, though it is cut off by his soft smirk as i realise that he makes a valid point. i race to think of reasons why we shouldn’t do this, reasons beside from this not being morally right - the look in his eyes tells me that he is far beyond caring about that. he looks downward at me, his gaze becoming more enticing as it rakes down my figure, only making it harder for me to give a good explanation for why his idea is ridiculous.

but i have taken far too long for tom. each waiting second has been torture for him, and the realisation of this comes along with his harsh kiss as he plants his lips onto mine, turning my body to face him, my lower half now flat against the glass railing behind us. he pushes his crotch against my own, with much more intent this time, his baggy jeans seeming to feel even tighter as his cock pulses through them. somehow we mutually agree to skip the soft and innocent kisses that lead to what we both want, the movements of our lips fast and hungry as he bites down on my bottom lip, earning a quiet moan that allows him to slip his tongue inside my mouth.

the harsh bite of the wind doesn’t matter anymore, its bitterness seemingly non-existent as tom’s touch warms my entire body, igniting a spark within it that leaves me nothing short of desperate, my hands communicating this hunger as they trail to the button of his jeans. he smirks against my mouth, taking my bottom lip into his own and sucking slowly, noticing how my movements falter at the sensation. he tastes of vanilla and cigarettes, the combination addictive as i seek to taste more, pressing my lips onto his own even harsher than before. his hands explore my body feverishly, freeing himself from the restraints that being in the public eye all night had brought as he takes advantage of the fact that we are alone - the skyline our only witness.

when he finally pulls away, lips swollen, chest heaving up and down, his eyes flicker between my own gaze and my cleavage, the hurried nature of his movements leaving me a mess, with my breasts practically spilling out of my dress. his tongue comes out of his mouth, swiping across his bottom lip and resting on his small piercing, only taking a few seconds to admire the view as just seeing it clearly isn’t enough. he pushes me back against the glass railing once more, my back hanging off of the edge slightly. i should be scared, considering that i am at least two hundred feet off the ground, though somehow adrenaline only continues to pulse through my veins, fuelled by tom’s touch as his hands reach for the small straps of my dress on each shoulder, hurriedly pulling them downward until my breasts are freed from the material.

“so beautiful.” he mumbles under his breath before attaching his lips to my nipple, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud as i cry out, my head falling backward to better his access. my hair blows slightly in the breeze, the cold wind causing me to hiss slightly as it hits my nipples, but the pain doesn’t last long as tom works against them. his hand fondles the breast that his mouth can’t, running his thumb over it as his teeth graze against the other, creating a dangerously addictive mix of pain and pleasure that leaves me pleading for more. only when he pulls away from one breast and turns his attention to the other do i notice the faint purple marks littering my chest, the skin beginning to bruise as his hand runs over it in an attempt to soothe the slight stinging pain that emits from it. my own hands push his head further into me, earning small groans from him that vibrate against me when i pull on his braids, silently encouraging him to carry on - if my inaudible moans don’t do that already.

his head emerges from my chest, his lips pink and breathing ragged, a slight smirk etched upon his face when he sees his work, an array of deep purple bruises scattered around the skin. he runs his hands over my breasts once more, squeezing the flesh gently, his movements faltering and mouth falling open when i cup him through his jeans, his length throbbing against my palm.

“fuck, you see what you do to me schatz?” his head is tilted back slightly, adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows, a deep groan emitting from his throat when i apply a little more pressure, making me realise just how sensitive he is. his eyes flutter open and closed, trying desperately to watch my small hands as they run up and down his clothed length, the minimal contact driving him crazy. i continue to tease him, taking the opportunity as it is a rare one, control never something that i have when we are like this. though when my fingers trail along the waistband of his jeans, it becomes clear that he is done with whatever game i think i have started, his strong grip wrapping around my wrist as he tugs my hand away.

his eyes stay locked on mine as his hands move to the button of his jeans, undoing it and tugging the zipper down. he stops there though, stepping forward and collecting my hair in his hands, moving the loose curls to the side. before i can question what he is doing, he leans downward, his breath fanning against my neck, warm against the cold breeze. his lips ghost against the skin, pausing for a second, only to attach themselves to it, sucking slowly as he places open-mouthed kisses just below my ear. he knows that this spot drives me crazy, smiling against my skin when i moan in response, the pace of his kisses never speeding up as he keeps them slow and steady. he takes my skin in between his teeth, biting down gently before running his tongue over where his mouth has been. he repeats his motions, trailing his lips down to my collarbone, leaving soft marks as he goes along.

i am far too lost in pleasure to register the sound of his jeans being tugged down, instead my eyes remain shut, heavy breaths leaving my mouth when his lips linger for a few seconds, kissing my skin gently. my mind is somewhere else, lost in the addictive feeling of his lips on my body, not even noticing the low hum of his voice against my skin, until he bites down on it a little harsher than usual. my eyes shoot open as i hiss slightly, his lips kissing the spot repeatedly as a silent apology, the dull pain fading away with each kiss. he halts his movements, keeping his head securely in the crook of my neck.

“turn around. i want you to bend over the railing for me.” his voice vibrates against me, soon replaced by his steady breathing as he feels me nod against him, this enough for him to pull back, eyes studying me intently as i turn my body, now facing the cityscape that i had been so desperate to admire moments ago. though now, the hundreds of buildings in front of me don’t matter anymore. the shining lights, dark sky, low hum of the city, it is all nothing but a distraction from what i really want. and when i push my ass further backward a little, my upper half leaning over the balcony, tom begins to realise that too.

i feel his hands circle my ass, restricted by the thin material of my dress, this frustrating both tom and i as he moves to lift the material upward, letting it bunch up at my lower back. his breathing gets caught in his throat for a second, eyes glued on the sight in front of him, now only restricted by the black lace panties that leave little to the imagination.

“i need you so bad, oh my god.” if his words don’t show his desperation enough, then he makes sure that his actions do, fingers wrapping around the material of my panties as he tugs them down, the cold hair hitting my now exposed heat as i shudder slightly, not yet accustomed to the sensation. my eyes struggle to stay focused on the view ahead, desperate to turn around and focus on the man behind me, the urge becoming too strong to resist. i turn my head, eyes drifting down to tom’s hands, quickly registering where they are. his fingers slip into the waistband of his boxers, groaning slightly when his hand brushes against his length through the material.

“please…” my voice comes out as a low whine, almost pathetic as tom’s head shoots up, eyes meeting my desperate gaze as he smirks at my plea. he doesn’t tease me as i expect though, instead sliding his boxers down, his cock freed from its restraints. it almost hits his lower abdomen, the tip red and leaking pre-cum. my eyes widen at the sight, the aching sensation between my thighs only intensifying. he takes his length in his hands, beginning to pump himself a few times as his head falls backward, jaw clenching and eyes squeezing shut.

“fuck- you ready schatz?” he strokes himself a few more times, positioning his tip at my entrance. he places both hands firmly on my ass, circling the skin before placing a harsh slap onto it, my entire body jolting forward, going next to crazy as the pain only fuels my desire. he knows that too, spreading my asscheeks and smirking when i nod my head rapidly. he runs his hand over the skin, soothing the harsh red mark that his touch has left, its pain more enhanced by the cold air as it continues to hit my skin. he runs his tip through my folds, collecting my wetness as i whine in frustration, moving my hips backward in an attempt to put his dick inside me myself.

“stay still or i won’t fuck you at all.” he plants another harsh slap to my ass as i hiss in pain, feeling the skin turn red. his touch lingers there, easing the pain just a little bit as he resumes his motions one more time, his tip now prodding at my entrance. “you gonna be good for me, yeah?”

i nod my head eagerly, willing to do next to anything if feeling him inside me comes with it, even if i look completely pathetic: bent over in front of him, practically at his mercy. i almost lose balance when he finally begins to push himself into me, my hands clutching onto the railing so hard that my knuckles begin to turn white. he lets out a loud groan from behind me, mixed with the high-pitched moan that leaves my own lips as he stops about halfway. my walls clench around him, attempting to work through the slight pain that courses through me as he stretches me out, my mind silently wondering how the rest of him will fit. i whine at the sensation, already feeling so full despite knowing that he isn’t all the way in. tom senses my discomfort too, bending down to place a soft kiss on my neck, pushing inside me a little further in the process.

“i know, i know. taking me so well princess.” his praise is enough for me to take all of him, nodding my head and mumbling a quick ‘keep going’. he knows better than to question me, instead continuing to push his length inside of me as i cry out. a string of curses spill from his lips, his grip on me seeming to get stronger as i feel him bottom out, his body now flush against mine. i hear his loud and rapid breaths behind me, often cut off by quiet grunts whenever i clench around him.

“please…move.” my voice is breathy, coming out as an almost inaudible plea, though i quickly recognise that tom has understood me when he moves his hips backward, almost completely pulling out, before slamming back against me, his dick disappearing back inside me. i can’t keep my head up anymore, letting it fall forward as i lose all control of my body, becoming more and more weak with each strong movement of his hips. he repeats his motions, moving backward so that only his tip remains inside me, then quickly pushing his cock through my walls, so deep that i swear i can feel him in my stomach. tom notices that my head has dropped, no longer focused on the view ahead that i had been so insistent on watching. he reaches forward whilst continuing to thrust into me, a steady hand wrapping around my neck as he uses it to lift my head upward, eyes now met with the array of buildings ahead once again.

“you said you wanted to watch the view.” he changes the angle of his hips as he speaks, his tip now drilling against my g-spot, rather than brushing against it every few thrusts. i let out a high-pitched moan, eyes rolling to the back of my head at the new sensation. if it weren’t for tom being behind me, my legs would have given out. he doesn’t give up though, his hand now holding my chin securely, preventing my head from falling forward. “so watch it. can’t do that if you won’t even look.”

“can’t…can’t do it-” my slurred speech is cut off by a loud moan when his pelvis brushes against my clit with just enough contact to make me really feel it, my body jolting forward once again. i hear tom chuckle from behind me, beginning to speed up his thrusts as he continues to hold my head in place.

“oh baby, look at you. you can take it. just keep those pretty eyes ahead, okay?” his voice is soft, cut off by his quiet groans whenever he would bottom out, his tip continuing to hit the sensitive spot inside of me. i nod my head, drunk off of pleasure, yet his praise encourages me, prompting me to keep my head up, even when my eyes roll to the back of my head. he tests my ability, slowly moving his hand away from where it had held my chin in place, a low hum leaving his lips when i manage to keep it upright. “there you go. just like that honey, good girl.”

i moan in response, clutching onto the railing as my vision starts to blur, an array of lights consuming my vision, stomach beginning to tighten with the coming of my climax, knowing that i won’t be able to hold on much longer. his hand falls to my breasts, beginning to squeeze the flesh roughly as his thrusts become more erratic, hitting my g-spot effortlessly, earning a loud whine from me each time. he takes my nipple between his fingers, squeezing it slightly as i moan at the sensation, the knot in my stomach only tightening. he picks up on this quickly, trailing his hand down to my clit, starting to rub fast circles over the sensitive bud, watching as my entire body begins to tremble.

“i’m so close…gonna cum.” my speech comes out slurred, almost indistinguishable amongst my frequent moans, though when tom slows down his thrusts, it is clear that he sees that i am close. he wraps an arm around my waist, using it to pull my body upward, back now flush against his chest.

“hold it for me baby. just a little longer, doing so well.” his breathing comes hot and fast, fanning onto my skin before he replaces it with his lips, taking my ear lobe into his mouth and biting gently. he releases it, kissing the spot just below it as i cry out in pleasure, my release getting closer and closer, seconds away from being pushed over the edge. he speeds up his thrusts, pushing my body downward once again and forcing me to hold onto the railing for support. he lands a few harsh slaps onto my ass, kneading the flesh and using it to build up his pace, chasing his own climax as i clench around him, doing everything i can to hold back from letting go.

when his cock begins to twitch inside me, his hips faltering against me, i know that he is almost there too. i attempt to match his thrusts, moving my hips backward as our skin slaps together much faster than before. this clearly has an effect on him, his moans becoming much louder. i turn to look at him, knees almost buckling at the sight. his eyebrows are furrowed, jaw slack and mouth wide open, forehead lined with sweat as he maintains a steady hold on my hips, guiding them back and forth as i continue to meet his quick movements.

“there you go. just like that, fuck yeah. keep going, i’m so close schatz.” he speaks through ragged breaths, nodding his head slowly, his mouth falling open even further when i clench around him once again. he twitches inside me for a final time, his thrusts pausing momentarily, cut off by the verbal confirmation that he has reached his climax. “cum for me, let go baby.”

his permission is all i need to let go of the knot in my stomach, my release washing over me as the only word that i am able to say is his name, the word spilling from my lips over and over as i cum. he groans from behind me, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his head falls backward, ropes of his hot cum shooting into my walls, his hips continuing to rock back and forth as he fucks it into me, inaudible moans pouring from both our lips. his muscles tense as he squeezes my hips, nails digging into the soft skin as his dick continues to twitch inside me, his release coming in thick ropes as it coats my walls. his movements come to a steady stop, followed by his cock slipping out of me, a mixture of our juices running down my thigh. he turns me around, smirking downward at me, his pointer finger coming to collect the juices that have ran down my leg. his eyes never break away from my own, his body flush against mine as he takes his finger in his mouth, groaning at the taste. all i can do is watch, staring as his fingers exit his mouth, only staying silent for a while as he quickly attaches his lips to my own, capturing them in yet another rough kiss.

“see how good you taste?” he whispers against my lips, sucking on the top one before releasing it. i cringe slightly at the taste, a mix of sweet and saltiness settling on my tongue, the kiss soon turning passionate as i reach upward, wrapping my arms around his neck. he smiles into the kiss, bending down and snaking his hands around my lower back, hoisting me upward so my legs are tangled around his waist. i squeal when he lifts me up, giggling against his lips as he begins to walk off of the balcony and back into the hotel room. though any playfulness that had existed seconds ago is suddenly long gone when my back collides harshly with the bed, sinking into the soft and previously untouched sheets. tom quickly climbs on top of me, ripping his shirt off in the process, soon making me realise that our rendezvous on the balcony was only the beginning.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[nolita-fairytale]

make my heart surrender | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter three: thursday

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, angst, use of she/her pronouns, allusions to sex, eventual smut, no use of y/n, second person pov, mentions of death/mikey's suicide

word count: 3.4k

summary: you and carmy finally find some time to catch up and carmy begins to realize that you're more similar than he thinks.

a/n: thank you to all who are reading, reblogging, and commenting omg. i'm so grateful that someone wanted to read this story. i wrote it in a week because i couldn't get these two out of my head. they were begging to be put on the page. i also have a companion playlist that i'll release when the story is done because i don't want to spoil anything! comment below if you'd like to be added to this story's taglist. i did presumptuously add a few of you i've interacted with, so please let me know if you'd also like to be taken off of it.

read: part two | masterlist

Thursday

You’re grateful that by day three, you’d been able to smooth over some of the tension between you and Carmy. You even looked forward to catching up with him, if the two of you can swing it. Instead of going home early, you had jumped on the line this evening. Ebra was out for the night and Marcus had asked to fly solo on prep so that you could give him some feedback before lunch service tomorrow morning. 

It was an easy decision, to fill in and jump on the line. After all, you had checked your bag on the plane so that you could bring your knife roll with you, just in case. There was something about this kitchen – the energy and the people – that you wanted to stick around for. And it didn’t hurt that you got to spend a little extra time with Carmy. When he was in his element, expediting and leading this kitchen… he was… breathtaking. 

“Damn, nice knife, Jeff” Tina comments, checking out the santoku you’re running through some parsley. She can hear the crisp, clean cuts you're making, which is what caught her attention in the first place.

“Jeff?” you question, shooting her a look. 

“Long story, but trust me. It’s a term of endearment,” Sydney interjects, from her side of the prep station. 

You chuckle, “She’s a beauty alright. My first fully Japanese knife. Though the steel is a bitch to take care of. That’s for sure.”

“What do you mean?” Tina questions further. 

“Well, it’s just a kind of metal alloy that’s super prone to-,” you start, completing your sentence at the same time as Sydney chimes in.

“Rusting,” you both say in unison, sharing a look. 

“Huh,” Tina sounds, suddenly losing interest. “I don’t get it. It’s more work to take care of? Our shit’s part-plastic and does the job just fine.”

“Oh but she’s so smooth,” you playfully swoon, referring to how beautifully the knife performs for you. 

“It’s all about the performance, T,” Sydney adds. 

Tina hums in response, still unconvinced by you and Sydney’s admiration for the fancy tools. 

“So you and Carmy. How’d you meet Jeff?” Tina inquires further geturing her knife towards Carmy’s expediting station, and eliciting another laugh from you and Sydney.

“Uhhhh… we both worked at the same restaurant in New York. I came in to stage and the competitive jerk tried to smoke me. Thought he could show me it was his territory.”

“Like a little bitch,” Tina teases, the shade evident in her voice.

“And you kicked his ass obviously,” Sydney suggests, hopefully. 

“Mhm,” Tina adds in agreement.

“Oh absolutely,” you answer, deviously. “I walked out with a job that night. Carmy and I are the classic kitchen staff case of… enemies turned good friends.” 

You look up from your station, noticing an exchanged look between Sydney and Tina. 

It’s the kind of look that says, Just friends, huh?

“Alright, alright. Enough with the girl talk, gossip girls. News flash: no one gives a shit about fuckin’ Tom Colicchio and Padma Whatserface over here,” Richie interrupts, referring to the you and Carmy, as he passes by with a few empty storage containers on the way to the dishwashing station. 

“Asshole / Fuck off, Richie,” Sydney and Tina shout back at the same time. 

“Hey! Listen up, everyone! Fire two spaghettis, two short ribs, one chicken,” Carmy calls out to the kitchen. You listen attentively, hearing the chorus of the entire kitchen repeat the order back to him, punctuating the order with a ‘heard.’ 

You smile to yourself, as you enjoy the feeling of falling into such a familiar rhythm. 

You’ve missed working in the kitchen, and you’ve missed working in the kitchen with Carmy. This was so different than any of the bullshit you’ve been through together – even when he is arguing or yelling at someone. It’s not some sterile environment that looks more like a science lab or an operation room than it does a kitchen.

No, this place has soul. 

Between the crass kitchen banter, the less than flattering nicknames, and its wild cast of characters, it’s only day three and you feel right at home. Dinner service flies by and you’re eager to check in with Marcus by the end of the shift. Before taking your apron off, you head over to his corner of the kitchen. 

“Hey, how’s everything going, chef?” you ask, curiously. 

“Good, chef,” he answers proudly. “I got the brioche covered and ready to rise overnight and I prepped the cake donuts so we’re ready to roll tomorrow morning. I went with a blueberry cake donut this time around.” 

“Sounds great. I can’t wait to try it, chef,” you reply. “Need anything from me before I head out for the night?”

“Oh no, uh, I’m almost done here,” Marcus answers, inspiring confidence in his ability. “Just workin’ on a curd for the filling, chef. Just like you taught me.”

“Alright,” you chuckle, tickled by how excited he is. “Have a good night, chef.” You pause, wondering if your words will be totally lost on him. “And make sure you get some rest tonight, okay?” 

He responds with a nod, as you leave his station.

You make your way to the locker area, hanging your apron up, and slipping off your kitchen sneakers, before taking a seat on the bench. It looks like most of the kitchen staff got a head start on you and have already left, or are out of their kitchen clothes and ready to head home. There’s a strange feeling in your heart. You haven’t felt this kind of… community… in a professional kitchen in a long time and you try your best to name what it is you’ve felt was missing. 

“Hey,” you hear a voice say, pulling you from your thoughts. 

“Hey,” you say to Carmy. 

He removes his apron, folding it over his forearm. It sits further down his arm, right near his tattooed hand, you notice, as he leans his side against the lockers. 

“Thanks for jumpin’ in… you know… on the line tonight,” he starts his gaze practically piercing through your soul. 

“Yeah, it’s uh, no problem,” you reply, placing your knife roll and kitchen shoes back into your locker. “I had fun.”

“You uh, you still want to go for that drink?” he asks, shyly. 

You smile. 

“Yeah.”

*

“It’s fucked up,” Carmy shakes his head in disbelief. 

“Oh please. What?” you groan, shooting him a look.

“You’ve been in my city for… what three days now and you already have a hookup at one of the hardest to get into bars here,” Carmy replies, eliciting a laugh from you. 

“Oh my god,” you sigh with a playful eye roll. “I’m a New Yorker, asshole. You know that’s how we do it.” 

He shakes his head again, before locking eyes with you, “You were always better at it than me.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you, Carmen Berzatto, finally admitting that I’m better at something than you? Can you say it again, and I’m just going to-.” you tease, playfully, pulling out your phone as if you’re going to film him saying it. 

“Oh shut up…” he shoots back, gently pushing your phone away from his face. 

“I mean, you could always make friends with anyone. The bodega guy downstairs. The fuckin’ bodega cat. Our favorite butcher? ‘S why we always got the good cuts of meat when we cooked together on our days off.” 

“Which is exactly why I do it,” you point out. 

You had always been so magnetic to him. It’s something that he’s always admired about you – something that always reminded him of Mikey. 

“No, I-, I used to be a regular at this bar when I was working at Gramercy Tavern – actually, I think it closed right before you came to New York. Anyways, found out my favorite bartender moved to Chicago and I sent him a message letting him know I’d be in town. Said he’d get us in even if they were booked up, and,” you gesture towards where the two of you are sitting together, “Et voila!” 

Carmy takes a look around. He hasn’t been in a fine dining establishment since he left New York. It’s as if all the fancy awards and all the dues he’s paid cooking in the best restaurants in the entire world don’t matter anymore. He feels so out of place: the people, the over-the-top cocktails, the overpriced bowls of food called something fancy to justify the high price point. 

“From the kitchen” your bartender had said curtly, a mere few minutes ago. He had placed a few plates in front of the two of you to share that you most certainly didn’t order.

You both had thanked the bartender, before digging into the large bowl of soup, stracciatella, and focaccia bread on the plate. You rip off pieces of bread, dipping them into the salty broth, popping them into your mouth. Carmy’s much more of a gentleman about it, using his spoon to try the soup first. You had only planned on drinking here, but your friend at The Aviary had really come through. You’re sure it doesn’t hurt that you’re here with Carmy, and that these guys definitely know who Carmy is. 

“So…” you start, taking a sip of whatever fizzy strawberry gin thing you’d ordered earlier. “I feel like there are a lot of long stories I’d like to hear.” 

Carmy makes a sound in agreement before taking a sip of his drink. It’s just bourbon on the rocks, and you wonder when he started drinking bourbon like this.

“I mean… we could start here. How the hell are ya?” you ask. 

“I…” he starts, before trailing off. He buries his face in his hands, dragging his fingertips across his forehead. “It’s uh, it’s been a long couple of months. Christ. The restaurant was a goddamn mess, everyone hated my fuckin’ guts. And then Syd showed up and, well, she’s been a big help.” 

You wait a beat before saying, “As much as I want to hear about the restaurant, Carm, I mean how are you doing?”

Your words stop him, and he looks up at you with those baby blue eyes. He takes his time thinking about it, shrugging before muttering something along the lines of, “I’m okay, I guess.”

He’s searching for the right words to explain how the hell he’s even supposed to answer that question.

“I don’t know. Guess I thought if I fixed the restaurant, if I could fix it-. Maybe I could fix him,” he drags out. 

He waits a few beats before finally admitting:

“I miss him. Mikey. And I found out all kinds of shit about him that I-, well, shit I didn’t know. I think-, I think it’s why he kept me away. Why he shut me out.”

You listen as he begins to fill you in: about Mikey, the drugs, the debt he inherited that he now owes to Cicero, how hard it was to win over the kitchen staff that, come hell or high water, weren’t interested in changing their ways. And then he tells you about the meetings he's been going to -- the al-anon meetings. And you begin to understand. While he’s the same old Carmy, this isn’t the exact same Carmy that you knew in New York. The Carmy you knew in New York never would’ve gone to those meetings. He would’ve brushed it off and pretended there wasn’t a problem and taken as much punishment as he could in the kitchen instead of dealing with what he was feeling.

Mikey’s death, and coming home, and this restaurant, it’s all changed him. 

And maybe, just maybe, it’s part of the reason why, after months of no contact, he reached out to you now, but he’s not sure if he should tell you that yet.

You’ve got to give it to him. If anything, he’s exceptionally talented at cutting people out of his life. It’s his M.O – the only thing that’s been consistent in his life – even when those people didn’t deserve it. It’s what he knows to do. It’s something he’s learned… from Mikey, from his dad… 

But this… what he’s telling you, these are stories of connection and community. 

“And Syd’s really helped me pull this shit together. She's kinda like... the glue, y'know? I- I don’t know where we’d be without her,” Carmy concludes.

You agree. Syd is brilliant. You can see just from having been in that kitchen that she’s been the biggest catalyst for the changes — even his.

“I know you only asked me to come for pastry but I’m glad you let me jump in on the line tonight,” you say. “It’s cool to see what you’re doing now and… I don’t know. I know it was a rocky start, but you’ve got something here. Something that could be really, really good, Carm. You’re making real fucking food. Like your mom’s chicken. I haven’t forgotten about that.” 

“How can you remember that?” Carmy asks, a little surprised, his eyes lighting up. He’d almost forgotten that he’d once made it for you while you were both still in New York.

You nod, “Best chicken piccata I’ve had in my life.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Hands down.”

“You know,” you start, a mischievous tone in your voice. “If I recall correctly, you made me some pretty bomb meals back in New York. And didn’t I say something along the lines of you really shining when-?”

“Oh no,” he groans. “Not this again.”

“I’m just saying!” you justify, innocently. “When you cook the food you grew up with, Carm, you’re at your very best. And don’t get me wrong. You’re an exceptional chef, regardless of what you do but-.”

“So what? You’re gonna say ‘I told you so?’” he questions, shooting you a look. 

You shrug, playfully, “I can’t help it if I’m right all the time,” earning an eye roll from him. 

“Especially when it comes to you.”

He’s quiet for a moment, because you do know him. You’ve seen sides of him he’s barely let anyone else see. It feels good and terrifying all at once to be seen this clearly.

“Yeah, well, you always were a little more Mozza than French Laundry, huh?” he shoots back, referencing your difference in preference. While Mozza was more family style, The French Laundry, a restaurant Carmy had worked at once upon a time, was anything but. 

“Yeah. Who knew one day we’d switch places?” you reply, a sadness in your voice. Were you… envious of what Carmy had? Was this what you were looking for?

“So uh, you gonna tell me what the hell happened with the restaurant?” Carmy asked, changing the subject – changing the subject to you. 

You sigh, you raise your drink to your lips, finishing the rest of what’s in the glass in one go. 

“That bad, huh?”

“No!” you’re quick to reply. “Well, yes. But no. But yeah….” 

Carmy flags the bartender down, ordering another round for the two of you. 

You’re not even sure where to begin in regards to the existential crisis of sorts that you’ve been having, so you just tell him what happened. 

“I was juicing blood oranges one day. And-, you know we were going to take the juice and do all that fancy gastronomy shit with it… turn it into like, the same consistency of ‘dew in the early morning’…” you began to explain, quoting what your head pastry chef had said that day.  

“And I’m sitting there thinking… what the hell am I doing? I mean, who eats food like this?! Who wants to eat a drop of blood orange juice that’s been turned into the consistency of dew in the early mornings? Like, why the fuck can’t I just make the best blood orange olive oil cake anyone’s ever had, and that be enough, you know?”

“And. I don’t know. It got me thinking a lot about the kind of food I want to make, and what that would mean, and what does any of this shit even mean? Fast forward to a week later, and I don’t feel like I have a fuckin’ clue about what I want to do with my life and I’m quitting the restaurant.”

You pause, noticing that he’s just been listening attentively this whole time.

“I’m tired, Carm,” you admit. “I mean. I’m burnt the hell out. I just. I don’t want to work this hard for something that- something that I’m not even sure I believe in anymore.”

Another beat. 

“I know it sounds totally insane but-.”

“No! No, it doesn’t,” Carmy interrupts, quick to reassure you, as he reaches for your hand. Your eyes flicker from his hand on yours, the small tattoo above his wrist, then back to him, feeling the loss of body heat as he pulls his hand back only a moment later. 

“I feel like I’ve been thinkin’ about a lot of the same shit,” he admits, empathizing with you. 

“I just feel… kind of lost,” you say, and it’s the first time you’ve said it out loud. “I do. I-, I’ve been feeling really lost lately.”

In all the time he’s known you, never could he have expected you to feel lost. He wondered if he’d just put you on a pedestal. You had always been this stunningly charismatic, charming person that could walk into any room and in minutes, have everyone wrapped around your finger. For so long he denied any feelings for you because he knew you were unattainable – that someone like you could ever want someone like him felt impossible. Wouldn’t you be better off with one of those Wall Street assholes that came into the restaurant all the time – wining and dining their clients with their expensive wristwatches and fancy town cars?

But hearing you say it – that you feel lost – it reminds him that you’re only human too. 

He waits another beat, guilt filling up his throat, before he speaks again. 

“I should’ve been there for you. I’m sorry.”

There’s an earnestness in his voice that makes you want to trust him. Sure, it seems like he’s been apologizing to you for three days straight, but you want to listen. 

You take another sip of your drink. 

“I started volunteering at a Brooklyn community garden so I could like, pull my head out of my ass,” you share with him. 

“Did it help?”

You shrug, “Yeah, a little bit.”

It helped, but it hadn’t fixed anything. You feel like you can confide in him, especially since he told you that he was going to meetings.

“My therapist actually encouraged me to come here,” you confess, gauging his reaction as the words flow from your mouth. “Get out of dodge. Get a change of scenery… give myself some time to think.”

“We both know you do a little too much of that,” he teases gently, and you chuckle. 

Between Carmy’s avoidance, and your neuroses, you’re quite the pairing. 

“Yeah.”

Carmy pauses, not sure if he has the words to give you the explanation you deserve, but he’s going to try. 

“I had… a lot goin’ on. When I got back. And I didn’t know….” He pauses before continuing. “I didn’t know how to do it all at once. How to handle, you know… everything at the same time.”

And it’s just easier to avoid everything – to avoid you, to avoid the way I feel about you, he thinks to himself.

And it’s exactly what he did, he pushed you away, and pushed any and all feelings or thoughts about you into a dark hole, never to be acknowledged ever again. 

Until you quit your job. Until his phone call with Tim. Until his phone call with you. 

“I know, Carm. I know you’re sorry and I appreciate the apology,” you start, taking a breath. “It’s just that-.  I need you to know...” 

You pause, suddenly feeling like you’re in the middle of an anxiety dream where you realize you’re not wearing any pants.

“I need you to know that it hurt. It… it really hurt. Not hearing from you. Being cut out like that.”

“I know,” he admits, remorsefully. “I’m gonna be better. At least I’m trying to be.” 

“I really want to believe that,” you say, softly. 

But I don’t want to get hurt again, you think to yourself.

He looks at you, a soft, shy smile on his face, and it makes you want to take a chance on him. 

Who are you kidding? You’d jump off of a bridge with him if he asked, even if it meant getting hurt all over again.

“Okay?” he asks, hopefully. 

You’re not sure if he’s asking if it’s okay, if you’re okay, if everything is okay between the two of you, and you wonder if he means all three.

“Okay,” you answer, quietly. 

“Okay.”

read: part four

taglist: @lazypeachsoul @bookwormvoyageuse @allthefandomstogether

[dreamatduskk]

hi i love the way you shade latex omg it's breathtaking

thank you so much! def been something really fun for me lately ^_^

[jonillaa]

Hi! Can I please request the type of boyfriend Yuma is? Thanks!

ARE YOU BORED YET? ┊ nakakita yuma

PAIRING ┊ yuma x f!reader

GENRE ┊ fluff

WC ┊ 504

WARNINGS ┊ yuma and reader kiss , badly written , not proof-read , lowercase intended!!

SYNOPSIS ┊ yuma wanted to make your first date special and enjoyable. with that in mind, he takes you to a carnival and plans a romantic ferris wheel ride for just the two of you.

A/N ┊ omg hii everyone I’m so sorry for the late replies and answers 😓 I’ve been at my friend’s place for like the past couple of days and even though I’ve finished some requests, I decided not to post them until I was home. (p.s i literally can not write head-canons they always end up bad so here’s a small drabble instead! i hope you can interpret the kind of bf yuma is through this😭)

the line for the ferris wheel seemed to stretch on forever, with children running around excitedly while their parents waited in patient anticipation. yuma, your charming boyfriend, stood by your side, his snaggletooth shining whenever he grinned at you. his arm was draped casually around your shoulder, a gesture he often did to make you feel loved and protected.

"yuma, do you think the line will ever move?" you asked impatiently, glancing up at him.

he chuckled, his brown eyes sparkling mischievously. "well, i might have bribed the operator to stop the ride for a while so we can enjoy the view from the top together. so i guess, not anytime soon."

you playfully hit his arm, trying not to blush at the sweetness of his gesture. this was your first official date, and yuma was determined to make it unforgettable. as you both finally boarded the ferris wheel and reached the top, you gasped at the breathtaking sight before you.

the city lights twinkled like stars against the dark canvas of the sky. it was as if everything else faded away, leaving only the two of you in this magical moment. yuma turned to look at you, his eyes filled with awe and adoration.

"you know," he whispered, his voice warm and sincere, "this view doesn't even come close to how beautiful you look right now."

you felt your cheeks flush, unsure of how to respond. yuma had a way of complimenting you that made you feel like the only person in the world. he loved to tease you, but it was clear that his words held so much more than mere teasing.

slowly, he reached out and cupped your face in his hands, drawing you closer. the world seemed to pause in that moment, as yuma leaned in and gently pressed his lips against yours. the connection was soft and tender, just like yuma himself.

when he finally pulled away, his eyes were filled with warmth and affection. "i've been waiting for this moment, for us. you make everything so much brighter, y/n."

your heart swelled with happiness, knowing that this incredible person felt the same way about you. as the ferris wheel started it’s descent, yuma kept his arm around you, intertwining his fingers with yours.

"so, are you bored yet?" yuma asked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "not at all. i could spend forever with you."

yuma’s cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink, and he looked away shyly. it was a side of him you rarely got to see, but one you adored. his teasing and jokes usually hid his vulnerability, but in moments like these, it shone through.

the two of you continued enjoying the ride, the lively atmosphere of the carnival filling your ears. yuma’s playful banter never ceased, creating a comfortable and familiar space between you. he knew just how to make you smile, how to make every second with him count.

as the ferris wheel began to move again, taking you back down to the bustling carnival below, you couldn't help but feel grateful for this incredible person in your life. in yuma, you found not only love but a partner who understood you like no one else.

[blossom-hwa]

omg hi i hope you’re doing well! could i please request a yeonjun + enemies to lovers drabble? i’m so excited to see everything you write this summer !

hi anon! thank you for this request, and I'm sorry it took so long to finish it! I had this idea but I kept not having the time and/or energy to write, but now that it's finally finished with a burst of inspiration I hope you enjoy reading it :)

note: it's not so obvious at the start, but yeonjun is persephone here! this is a bit of a loose interpretation of enemies to lovers, but I still hope you like it!

summertime drabble fest: send me an idol from the list (Stray Kids, Ateez, TXT, Seventeen) + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

REQUESTS OPEN!!

~

Title: As Bones With the Flesh

Pairing: Yeonjun x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 2.3k

Genre: angst, gods!au, hades/persephone!au

Warnings: cursing, mentions of bones/flesh (only in the context of death, nothing graphic)

~

Sitting on the prickly grass, you finally open your eyes to stare at the shimmering trees above. It's the first time you've allowed yourself to leave the safety of your quarters in days. Six, to be exact. 

The same number of days since you last spoke to Persephone. 

Speak is a relative word. You snort a little, tearing up a handful of unnatural grass made of the thinnest slivers of emerald. Rich green and pale yellow glow in your palm, reminding you of the wonder in his eyes when you first showed him what your powers could do—turn grass into gems, wither leaves with a touch. 

"They're dead, you know." You had said it quietly, directly. You're not sure why you said it—you were sure in your heart that your words would have caught Persephone in the chest, brought horror and revulsion to his face the same way your powers have always horrified everyone else—but you wanted him to be scared, in a way. Wanted confirmation that he would react like all others did. 

Because the alternative was unthinkable, and far more terrifying. 

But he hadn't been revolted. Hadn't jerked his hand away from the glowing green grass, from the brown leaves in your hand. His eyes were wide, sparkling with something terrifyingly beautiful, and even as you ducked your head and added "I killed them" to your previous statement, he didn't move away. Didn't even flinch. 

"Beautiful," he had said quietly, under his breath. 

To this day you still don't know what he meant. 

But it doesn't matter. You close your fingers in a fist, shattering glass-thin emeralds into your palm. It doesn't matter, because you're not going to speak to him again. Can't. Won't. Not after he showed up in your underground realm, not after he ate those pomegranate seeds even as you tried to stop him. 

Not after he threw away his own life for some wicked reason you don't understand. 

You open your fist, sprinkling sparks of green onto the rest of the prickly fake grass around you. Emerald still dusts your palm, though, and you brush it off absently as you finally stand. 

Only to see a shadow in the trees out of the corner of your eye. 

You turn away immediately. Shut your eyes. Your immortal heart thumps in your chest with the knowledge of who stands behind you, unfamiliar, unnatural heat racing through your cold veins and skin and you have every intention of running away no matter how unseemly it might be but then he says your name and the world starts to blur. 

"Y/N."

Your feet, rooted in place. Your eyes, forced open. Your hands have clenched into fists, a few tiny prickles of emerald glass embedding themselves in your palms, your heart hammering even as the breath leaves your lungs. 

"Y/N." His voice pleads, so much emotion echoing through the one word of your name, but you force yourself not to turn. 

Who could ever give up their existence on the surface for you? Give up the natural green of the grass, the earthly shades of the flowers, the breathtaking azure of the cloudless sky? Give up the life of the world, all those lovely greens and blues and pinks, for dead, metallic, iridescent approximations in the Underworld?

"Please."

Nothing Persephone has done has ever made sense, you think bitterly, fondly. But this, this exchange of life for death, color for darkness, is perhaps the most nonsensical thing he has ever attempted. 

You turn around slowly, robotically. Persephone's handsome face stares at you, so full of vivacity even surrounded by the gloom of your jeweled gardens. Against your will, your breath catches. 

This prison you once called your home somehow looks more beautiful in his presence. 

Swallowing hard, you set your shoulders and your jaw. Tense your arms at your sides, ignore the warmth of his being that has always taunted you, drawing you closer to him, a forbidden fruit. "I have nothing to say to you," you grit out slowly. "Persephone."

His expression collapses, pain filling his eyes as his shoulders slump. You draw your own face further into shadow. You're the one who hurt him, you tell yourself, just as you always will. There's no point in hoping for something that could never be. And what that something is, you will never admit to yourself. Because there's no point. 

It will never be. 

"Will you at least call me by my name?" He steps forward, lifting a hand as though to ask for yours. When you only look away again, though, he drops it, those lovely fingers falling sadly down by his side. "Y/N?"

"You're not supposed to be here," you force yourself to say, echoes of what you had shouted at him six days prior as you still refuse to look at him. "I don't understand what a mockery you intended to make of me when you ate those seeds, but—"

"It wasn't a mockery!" Persephone's voice carries through the bejeweled garden, swaying the emerald grass where it stands around his feet. "I have never made a mockery of you!"

"What?" You laugh, finally throwing off the shadow of a cloak you'd been wearing, taking a step forward to meet his. "You come here, with your flowers and your life, to my kingdom—my home, my prison of jewels and bones and the dead—you come here with your life and expect me to believe you would trade your bounty for my lot? Would eat the seeds and fruit of my own land for any other reason than a cheap trick against sovereign of the Underworld, ridiculed by every other deity on Olympus?"

"It has never been a trick!" Persephone shouts. His eyes blaze with fire, so much living fire that you almost wish it would continue that you could live with this memory of true, blazing warmth for the rest of your life. "It was never a trick. You are just so disillusioned, so blinded by your own miseries and depressions—you think everyone is going to hurt you and you simply refuse to believe otherwise—"

"Tell me, Persephone, when the entire world reviles your immortal existence how exactly do you think one is supposed to believe—"

"Listen to me!" He's right in front of you now, screaming into your face, and despite everything you have tried to keep yourself from thinking about this man of springtime and life you can't help but marvel at his beauty even in this twisted ire. "Listen to me, Hades, Y/N, you stupid, annoying, incorrigible god! It was never a trick! I am here of my own free damn will—I came here because I wanted to. Because I wanted to see you." Yeonjun—Persephone—his breath is ragged, his eyes teary, and you want so much to believe him. "Please, Y/N. Believe me. What have I done to make you think otherwise?"

Truthfully, nothing. But the logical part of your mind is shaky under the looming influence of the fear in your heart. And so you look away. 

Persephone—Yeonjun—fuck—he sighs short, sharp, harsh. "Fine," he snarls, and you can hear the sneer in his voice, practically see it in his face even with your averted gaze. "Fine. If you won't listen—"

Fingers so warm against the chill of your face, so delicate against the skin of your cheeks. A hand so steady on your waist as the other turns your chin gently, gently, gently. Brown eyes sparkling with every color of the rainbow, lovely as flower petals and iridescent as the ruby fruit hanging from your trees, and then—

Pink lips so soft on your own as he brings you into a kiss. 

Gods don't need air. Not technically. They don't need to breathe. But when Yeonjun finally pulls away after a million dizzying seconds or minutes or days, you find yourself gasping for breath. Grasping for your thoughts, your mind—for some sort of confirmation that this past moment was truly real. 

Slowly, slowly, you look up at Yeonjun. His eyes shine so bright as he runs a hand through his tangled hair, so bright you wonder if he's about to cry.

"Damn it, Y/N." He lets out a breath that sounds more like a sob. "Damn it, I—is it just so hard to believe that I love you?"

And that's when you crack. 

"No." It comes out of your throat choked, barely loud enough to count as a word. "Yes. And no. Yes. I—Yeonjun—" It's your turn to sob out a breath, to force the tears not to fall as Yeonjun looks at you like you're the only person in the world. "I—everyone has hurt me. In some way or another, purposely or unwittingly, but no one—no one has ever loved me."

A single sparkling tear makes its way down Yeonjun's cheek. 

"And—I—it couldn't have been you." You swallow hard, fists still clenched at your sides. "It couldn't have been you who would finally love me, not you with all your life and beauty on the surface. Not you who brings the spring and summer and gives hope to every being in the world, be it deity or mortal or animal. Not you. Not ever."

"Y/N—"

"And I was—so sure—" Your voice is undependable now, but you forge your way through Yeonjun's interruption. "So sure that you would just be like the others in the end, that this was all a horrible trick, that someday you would drop the farce and I couldn't even blame you because you are every hope the world has." You draw in a long, shaky breath as the first tears begin coursing paths out of your eyes. "So sure."

For a long moment, you and Yeonjun only stand in silence. You, your voice and eyes trembling. Him, his throat and chest heaving. 

"I wouldn't hurt you." He breaks the silence first, his voice cracking on the last word as the sound splinters to pieces on the ground and he looks at you with those eyes that sparkle with the light of the moon and the sun. "You...you do know that, right?"

Instinct urges you to draw away, to pull your shadows tighter around your shoulders and melt into the cloak of darkness as you always have before. But Yeonjun's eyes burn with courage, so much bravery pooling in those lovely eyes, bravery that led him to the Underworld, bravery that led him to your garden, bravery that let him eat the fruit on your table with every knowledge of its consequences but not a single care—

You owe him the truth, at least. 

"Yes." The word comes out choked and heavy, shrouded in all the bitter lies you've wrapped around you as a semblance of a shield from the feelings you have for the god standing in front of you. But you force yourself to look up. Not to draw away. To shed the last of the grey shadows that had become a weak excuse for protection against the light of Yeonjun's eyes. "I do." 

And there's that unnatural warmth again, flowing through your heart and your veins and your skin as Yeonjun begins to smile, eyes sparkling still with tears but also something else. Something much better. 

"I do know. That you have never tried or wanted to hurt me. That you never will." You take a deep breath, shuddering it out with the trembling of your heart. "It will take time to believe it. I—I'm sorry." More tears slip from your eyes and you look away. "But—I do know. And I will try—I will try to believe it. If you will let me."

Slowly, slowly, Yeonjun raises his arm. Outstretches his hand to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing away your tears one by one. "Of course I will let you," he says quietly, ever soft, ever gentle. "I will be with you, hand in hand, as life is with death. As jewels with the earth. As bones with the flesh." He takes a deep breath. "As the warmth of spring and summer, with the chill of fall and winter."

He steps forward then, closing the distance between you two, bringing his forehead to yours. Warmth seems to radiate from the spot where your skin touches, giving you a taste of the fire that always seems to burn in his veins. "I love you," he says quietly. "I love you not in spite of who you are, but because of it. Because you complete me. You are part of me. And I will never, ever let you go."

There's still fear, cold and dark and slimy in your gut. You feel it there and you do not know if it will ever disappear. But as Yeonjun's lips press against your forehead, you force yourself to ignore it. Because for all you fear this lovely god, for all you fear that he will turn on you just like everyone else in your life, for all you fear how much you love him, you fear something so much more. 

You fear what will happen if you never see him again. 

Pulling away just slightly, you take in Yeonjun's face from this distance, the soft slope of his nose, the sharp wings of his eyes, the hint of the sun in his skin framed by the dark hair falling sweetly into your vision. He's so beautiful, so lovely it almost hurts to gaze upon him, but for him, you will try. To see. To know. 

To believe that he loves you as much as you love him.

[stardancerluv]

Blossoming of a Shy Violet

Part Five

Summary: Adventures in hoodies and fun!

Note: This ran a little long but I didn’t want to split this up. Also these are moments in the collage are snagged from Joseph’s movie, Makeup (omg love him so much in it…that scene alone…my ❤️) Enjoy!

He cocked his head to one side.

“Eddie.” Your voice trembled, you looked away.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

One of his hands cupped your chin. “Look at me sweetheart.”

“I..I don’t know what to say.” He got you. But how, no one ever got you. Heck sometimes, you didn’t even understand yourself. His hands gently rubbed your upper arms.

“Say, you will come with me right now?”

“What? But where could we go?” You looked around.

He chuckled softly. “How about you just trust me?”

Excitement began to uncurl in you. Seeing that twinkle in his eye and you had decided you would.

“Ok, I trust you. But I need to be back for dinner with my dad at seven.”

He smiled broader. “We’ll be back by then.”

******

Being around you brought something out of him. He really didn’t know what got into him but you gave him this breathtaking feeling anything was possible.

Ushering you over to his van, he opened the door for you. “My lady.” He said grandly, offering you his hand to help you as you climbed up.

“My notebook!” You grabbed it, holding it to yourself and smiled at him.

His grew serious. “I saw that you had left it. I couldn’t very well let you leave it behind.”

“Thank you.”

Closing your door then, then came around and climbed up. “Ready for a small adventure?”

“Yes.” He watched as you relaxed and slipped your notebook into your knapsack.

“So you stood up to those guys?” Inwardly, he kicked himself for not getting out of the there when he had spotted you.

“I did.” You grimaced. “They really thought a ride in a convertible was going to make my day.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see you roll yours. There was that spunk he was growing to enjoy.

“Well…” His voice trailed off.

“Ok, a ride in a convertible would be fun with you.” You giggled. It was nice and light, a wonderful contrast to the melodic lyrics that poured from his speakers.

You hand squeezed his thigh. “So can you tell me where we’re going now.”

He jolted at the feel of your hand on his thigh. You immediately snatched your hand.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled.

“You just startled me sweetheart.” Looking over, he could see a splash of worry on your face. “It’s not everyday I nymphs touching me.”

“Oh you!” You giggled again, and you gave him a gentle nudge.

“Hey!” He laughed. “Don’t distract me further.” He laughed again.

“Ok, I’ll be good for now.”

To be honest, he rather liked the feel of your hand on his thigh. He would like it if you touched him again. He wished he had not been so jumpy. Why had he not hugged you, he wondered. If only, he was annoyed with himself. But he couldn’t have done that or could he have? Nah. At that moment, that was probably the last thing you wanted.

Though right now, he was going to take you somewhere nice. Even if it was for a little while, to get out of this hellhole of a town would be very nice. What also helped was no one knew who he was there.

******

As you watched the autumn colors blur into a rainbow of oranges, yellows and brilliant shades of scarlet. This was certainly a lovely area. Your heart was beating at a steady pace.

You still remembered how he had looked leaning against the lockers or just now, you could still feel those slender hands on your elbows. Why had he not pulled you into a hug. You would love to inhale that autumn scent that clung to him deeper, or to feel his warmth.

Of course, you had never really any of that before. Guys, avoided you like the plague. Unlike your dream this morning or in the stories, you enjoyed writing where you could let your fantasies run wild.

He had remarked that you had managed to entrance him. But not enough to hug you, you chewed on your bottom lip. He had seemed rather disturbed when you touched his leg. Part of you sank.

At least, he rescued your notebook and well right now, he was being awfully sweet. You’d take that. This was the most time you ever spent with a guy, well recently that is.

*****

“Sweetheart, we’re here.” The van rocked to a stop as he parked.

You had been lost in your thoughts. “You took us to an arcade!” Excitement filled you. “This is going to be fun.”

He unbuckled and leaned in, “I am hoping it will be.”

Turning, you faced him and happily nodded. Once again, the two of you were so close you could make out the swish of his eye lashes.

You both jumped back, when rain pelted hard on the van hard and with no warning. Your eyes grew.

“I didn’t know it was supposed to rain today. You said weakly.

“I got you sweetheart.” He easily, climbed into the back of the van. “There it is!” He exclaimed, coming back to you he had a hoodie in his hands. “Here you go.”

You happily took it from him. “Ooo” a delighted sound came from you. “Black Sabbath.” You met his eyes. “Very nice.” Sliding your arms in and you were already swimming in the soft black material.

He shrugged. “The concert was fun.” A smirk curled his lips.

“I bet.”

He grabbed, then pulled on his jean jacket. Then stuffed his keys into his pocket. “I don’t think its going to let up. We’re going to have to run for it.” Making a face, he looked out the windshield.

“Yeah.” You pressed your lips together.

He pointed to the red and black door. “That’s the entrance.”

“So we run over there?”

He nodded. “Ready.”

You nodded.

A little shrill sound came from you as you ran following Eddie. He glanced your way, at some point and gave you that devil may care smile. “You better catch up!” He teased.

“I’m coming!” You giggled and ran faster.

He held the door open for you. It banged behind the two of you when it closed. You couldn’t stop from jumping a little.

You suppressed a small giggled as he you caught him dancing over to you. “I’m going to get us some tokens.” Eddie’s raspy voice filler your ear.

“Alright.” You couldn’t peel your eyes away from all the machines. There were glowing lights and now your ears were filled with the chirps and beeps from the machines. They were endless rows. Off in one corner, you saw a place where you could order food. The place had everything.

Eddie, came back and nudged your arm. “What should we play first?”

You nudged him back, giggling. “You pick first!”

“Oh, well thank you very much.” He smirked. “This way my dear.” Very dramatically, he beckoned you down one of the aisles.

When he stopped at one game, he put in tokens in. “You should know I’m pretty good.”

“I bet you are.” You rolled up the big sleeves and stuck your hands into the pockets. You were comfy, you rather enjoyed the fact that the hood stopped half way to your knees. Absently, for the briefest of moments, you imagined only wearing his hoodie and being curled up to him as the two of you watched a horror movie or something. .

When you caught him looking at you, you felt a flush fill your cheeks. He gave you a half smile. “Comfy?” He rose his eyebrows. “Shouldn’t smell to bad.” He chuckled.

Without thinking you held the collar to your nose. It didn’t, inwardly you tingled. It was him, that autumn smell and a hint of something else but it was not anything bad.

“Nope.” You smiled.

“Good.” He relaxed, he looked like he was thinking of something. “Alright. How about this?” He rose his eyebrows. “I win, I play another game. I lose, you play a game and so on.”

“Sure.” You shrugged.

Soon however you were both moving from one game to another. There was curses and laughs muttered between the two of you.

You spotted the first of the machines that if played right gave great prizes. Sometimes you had a great knack for them. You smiled broadly. “Let me try this one.”

He bowed and made a huge sweeping gesture. “Be my guest my lady.”

You stood close to the clanging and loud machine, you studied it to see how you go about tempting to win.

Your heart still when suddenly, you felt as Eddie swept some of your hair away and his breath was warm, as he rested his chin rested on your shoulder. He stood very close behind you. “Which one of those prizes are you going to win us?” His lips grazing your cheek as he spoke.

You felt as if stars of joy were exploding inside of you. You desperately tried to focus on what you were looking at.

“Umm,” You barely focused on the items.

“Hmm.” He made a soft sound. His cheek just barely rested against yours. “Oh those are some smart rings.”

You leaned back against him and squeezed your eyes shut. This was so amazing you thought. He felt so good. “You do like your rings.” You managed, wiggling a little.

He made a sound. “I certainly do.” He whispered.

You felt as his hands wander under his hoodie, they came to rest on your hip. “Then focus for me, sweetheart and win me one.”

“Ok.” Were surprised you had not squeaked out the word. You felt breathless having him this close, holding you.

His thumbs somehow managed to slip under your t-shirt. His thumbs idly grazed your hips.

“You have to focus in order to win.” He told you.

All you could do was nod.

You tried. You honestly tried. But the feel of him, the scent of him that surrounded you made it impossible. But you had managed to make the the machine release quite a few more tokens.

You slumped a little against him and as you did, he braced himself against the machine’s surface and before you realized one of his arms wrapped around and pulled you against him. His nose grazed your hairline. “Can’t always win, baby. There’s a machine over there, where I’d like to win you something. Will you let me?”

You could only muster a glance. “I would like that very much.”

“Good.” He pressed the lightest of kisses to your temple. Yet, he did not moved away from you to get to that machine.

“If you guys want a moment go into the photo booth.” A voice pipped up behind the two of you.

If there had been a spell, it was now broken. Both of you parted, giggling. Yours eyes met but not before you saw a hint of a pink in his cheeks.

You put a hand on your hip and smiled. “So which one do you want to win something for me?”

@eddieswifu @underscorebisexualgirl @gabriella-gvf @apocalypticwafflekitten @dafoeosborn69 @blackberries45 @mouthfulloftoothpasterry

[queenpiranhadon]

☁︎⎸⎸“𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞?”⎸⎸☁︎

A/N: Heh this was really cute omg. Here's my masterlist! Dividers by @cafekitsune

Warning(s): Uh nothing really...just fluff :D

Pairing(s): Sandor x Grizel

It was late, around 11 pm, as Sandor made his way to the gates of Everglen. He mentally told himself to never engage in a bet with Grizel again, annoyance prickled in the corners of his mind as he shifted his weight again, the tight pants that he was forced to wear was restricting his mobility. To his side stood Sophie, smiling brightly as she pushed the gate open. The moon lark had given him an embroidered jerkin that was a brilliant shade of deep blue, despite his protests of how it "hindered his ability to protect her". Thought after a lot of prepping and staring into the mirror (plus LOTS of feedback from Sophie's 2D friend Vertina), he had to admit, some small part of his was excited to see Grizel's reaction to him in this regal Elvin attire. And another part of him dared to dream about what the female goblin in question looked like herself.

And it was so much better than he expected.

Both of their charges, plus Diana, Linh, Dex, Keefe, and even Ro, were adamant that they do things properly, thus the seven of them set to work to turn Evergreen's reception hall into a temporary ballroom. The sparkly room was completely transforms, even the huge Vacker family portrait was taken down for the time being (thanks to Della's heavy persuasion). Small crystals were placed strategically around the room to refract the moonlight that shone through, giving the space an ethereal glow. But despite the splendor surrounding Sandor as he stepped into the euphoric room, all he could see was Grizel.

And she looked breathtaking.

And severely out of her element.

She adorned a shimmering rose-gold dress that almost looked like is changed colors as she moved through the moonlight. Her silky black hair was pulled back into an elegant updo, no doubt the handiwork of the youngest Vacker daughter. Her lips were painted a deep red, and her captivating dark eyes were lined with the same color as her dress.

But Sandor didn't know that the light pink that dusted her cheeks wasn't makeup. It wasn't normal for the agile bodyguard to dress up in this way, but she couldn't imagine doing it with anyone else.

To Sandor, she looked like a goddess, as he stood there speechless, until Sophie elbowed him gently, a wide grin plastered on her face before she bolted to her friends, who were motioning hurriedly to get her outside to give the two goblins privacy.

The only person left was Linh, who messed around with a small enchanted instrument that started to trickle out a sweet symphony, as she gently set it down on a small stand before hurrying out of the room to join her friends. All that could be heard was the echoes of the door shutting and the faint melodies that filled the silence.

Both stood there, unsure of what to do (they were bodyguards, they don't really dance), before something Sophie had said about human dances clicked in his head.

So he extended his hand, a small smile forming on his lips.

"May I have this dance?"

Maybe losing a bet to Grizel wasn’t so bad after all.

[journalsouppe]

My spread for the Turnabout Century zine!! Wow, this zine is just incredible. The art, writing, and merch are all phenomenal and were simply breathtaking. I am so so happy I was able to snag a bundle because I love absolutely everything.

Gosh I have so much love for DGS and I just love zines so much as it’s just a collection of people’s love for a certain piece of media. Thank you to everyone who worked on this zine!! Y’all have killed it.

Images of the art book and merch can be found here. (Extra food and stationary stickers are from Daiso)

Writing typed below!

Zine theme: a celebration of the Great Ace Attorney Anthology

Zine theme: a celebration of the Great Ace Attorney Anthology

Merch List:

Leftover Sales (Prosecutor’s Portmanteau)

B5 hardcover foil art book

Digital zine

Clover suite memorabilia (behind the curtains)

Prelude to century.mp3 (Zebby)

Sticker Sheet (Viridilly)

Susato and Haori wooden pins (Miki)

Elementary enamel pin (Saerinn)

Van Zieks acrylic charm (Kermie)

Darumagami (sleeping salad)

4 Prints (2tchome, ohprcr, noctilin, rollround)

Bonus Print - dress up susato (Katsucii - art and ohprcr - design)

Wax stamp seal

My Thoughts: This zine is truly incredible. Everything in this zine is so beautifully made and made with such love and care, it brings tears to my eyes. There’s so much attention to detail with both breathtaking serious pieces and hilarious silly pieces. I can’t take my eyes away. I am so happy I was able to snag a leftover bundle because this book + merch are now som elf my prized possessions. I feel so appreciative to be a DGS fan because I can tell how much love people have for these games while also being so silly about it, which is exactly how the game is structured lmao. I just have so much awe for this project that I have so many words to say but I am also completely speechless. Incredible.

Absolutely incredible work everyone! Thank you so much to all the creators and mods on this project, y’all have done such a wonderful job. This zine is such a treasure :’)

My Comments:

THESE STICKERS ARE SO CUTE

The kokeshi pins are so unique and lovely

Omg the reverse poem

THE MCGILDED PIECE AHH

THE CARNIVAL

Love the disguises

Sleepover art print T-T!!

Elementary (plus a bad drawing of the forehead point LOL)

The art is so phenomenal, brings tears to my eyes :’)

Haori, Susato, and Iris in gowns oh my god T-T

I’m gonna die the Darumagami are ADORABLE

The black hatching shading omgggggg

Pirate kazuma omg

A recipe within a fix? Obsessed.

The writing is incredible

THE RESOLVE PIECE GOES SO HARD

Ahhhhh the fathers fic

The different art styles really makes this so special

Love the gold foil hard cover

The art is making me lose my mind

All the chuunosuke and friends ahhhh so cute

[snailor-bee]

Happy Birthday, Lale!

Omg!! It's @childofblackmaria 's special day!! @tardiiart and I did a collab to help celebrate with you Lale. ;w; We hope you like it!!

RayleighxF!OC / SFW / 1.5k Summary: When an old lover drifts back into her orbit, Renge can't help but get swept along. Warnings: It's a little bittersweet? There's hints of the sad. Mentions of Roger's death.

The aura at her back was familiar, a distant dream that she never forgot, no matter how long it had been. The memory felt faded with time but the moment his presence hit her, it all came rushing back, as if they'd never been apart. She recognized it instantly; bore the familiar weight that followed him everywhere, a comforting heaviness on her shoulders that even now, all these years later, was just as relaxing as when she wrapped herself in his company every day. His aura was a blanket she found safety in.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” a deep voice said with a chuckle as the sound of one of the chairs for the seated side was pulled out rang through the otherwise quiet air. It was uncharacteristically dead and her floating one-woman restaurant was bobbing gently, tied up to the docks, waiting for customers that didn’t seem likely to show up today. Not until he arrived anyway.

Renge didn’t look up from where she was stirring. “You haven’t even seen my face.” Tapping the ladle against the side and setting it down, she took a moment to compose herself before turning around.

As she suspected, he was just as breathtaking as the first time she’d ever seen him. Time hadn’t changed that, it just made him look even more inviting, how was that fair? Lines ran over his face but he looked charming and well-worn, as experienced and confident as ever, but age had given it a softer edge. Blonde hair turned a liquid silver, catching the evening sun and looking silky soft. A memory passed over her, of running her hands through his sun-warmed hair, a pleasant day at the beach without a care in the world, as if nothing could ever harm them.

Rayleigh smiled. “And now that I have, I can say you’re just as beautiful as ever.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled back all the same, feeling her spotted ears perk up as her fluffy tail gave a little happy swoosh. “You’re just saying that because our hair matches.” He chuckled but didn’t deny it.

Where it was once an ebony black, with just two strands of white that she liked to pull in front, Roger’s death had reversed that. Now her entire head was a shocking shade of white, with two long strands of black. The white was piled up in a bun as she worked but she had left the black strands down, as she liked to do.

“I see you’ve grown out your beard,” Renge mentioned, gesturing to her own chin. Ray propped an elbow up on the countertop.

“Sure have, you like it?” His voice was teasing and had a familiar dark undercurrent that shot a shiver of promise through her.

Renge turned away from his flirting so he didn’t have to see her smile grow. “Were you just coming to chat me up or did you want some food? I can make your favorite, for old time’s sake.”

“Ah, I could always eat your cookin’, kitten.”

They bantered back and forth as she cooked, the route lovely for all its familiarity. She’d missed this, missed him. They'd both changed in the years that had followed Roger’s death but they were still similar enough that with every smile and burst of laughter, Renge felt the pieces of herself that had scattered after the crew had fallen apart returning one by one. Rayleigh always made her feel like that, like whatever happened they could weather the storms together.

It was unfortunate that the one storm they couldn’t was the one that broke everything beyond repair.

Pushing away the thought, Renge instead let herself enjoy this. Enjoy the time with Rayleigh, for however long he decided to stick around. Let him work his way into her heart (not that he ever left) and bury around her love until it got too stifling and he left again. She didn’t begrudge him that or at least, not anymore. Time had worn down the anger into something resembling sadness more than anything. She’d stopped hoping every time he showed up that this time was the last time, that they could finally start living their lives together again. Now she took what he could give her and waited to see what would come about.

Renge was laughing as she handed over a plate. Rayleigh’s eyes lit up at the food piled high.

“Looks amazing!” he exclaimed with gusto before he started to dig in.

“As always,” Renge said with a smirk, leaning against the counter to watch him eat. Maybe she looked a little silly, a little lovesick just staring at him but Ray didn’t say anything besides giving her one knowing look that she didn’t look away from. “So what made you end up in a place like this?” she asked, waving her hand encompassing the empty docks around them, at the edge of some no-name small island.

Rayleigh swallowed and took a chug from the drink she’d silently clicked down along with his food. “I’d heard there was a simply delicious food place, run by a real hard-ass chef.” Renge’s yellow eyes narrowed in a glare as he laughed. “But that she was also the most stunning thing they’d ever seen so I decided to stop by, see what that was all about.”

“And?” she pressed. “How’s reality compared to your expectations?” Renge was joking, sarcasm laced through every word and she expected him to respond in kind.

“Better,” he said, very seriously. “The best thing I could ask for.”

Her heart skipped a beat and she decided to stop beating around the bush. “Was that the only thing you were looking for? Food with some good company?”

Rayleigh’s fork scrapped the plate as he finished. Wordlessly he handed over the dishes and she turned away to quickly wash them and put them away, giving them both time to consider the question.

When she came back, he shot her a wiry grin. “I was hoping to have a conversation with a pretty lady… maybe even convince her to go on a date. Though I can’t say she’d agree, old man that I am.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Since when have I ever cared about that?”

Rayleigh shrugged, nonchalantly but she didn’t let his relaxed manner fool her. “Ray,” she said with mild exasperation, “out of the two of us, sometimes I think you’re more cat-like than me, sneaking up in here whenever you want to, getting food and attention.”

He didn’t flinch but there was a level of tension she’d learned to read in the line of his shoulders.

“That being said,” she went on, “I love you, I’ll always love you. There’s a lot of things I wish were different, but at the end of the day you know I’ll be here whenever you wander in.”

Immediately his shoulders sagged with quiet relief and there was a pain in her heart at the sight. Still, his smile managed to soothe her, his eyes shining with emotion. “What’d I ever do to deserve a girl like you, huh?” His voice was shaky with emotion.

Renge swallowed against the lump in her throat and blinked away the burning at her eyes. “Not enough,” she quipped back. Laughing at herself, at them, she started untying the strings to her apron. “But you can make it up to me, let me close up and we can go.”

She set about quickly, Ray helping hand her the few barstools so she could stack them inside before she closed up the blinds. Opening the hatch in the kitchen floor she hurried down into her private quarters to change into something more ‘date-like’. Rushing as she was, Renge decided against doing anything with her hair as she threw off her shirt and pants.

Putting on a bright yellow top with flowy sleeves and a long purple skirt, she took one moment to look herself over, fluffing in the mirror on the wall before taking a deep breath and heading out.

By the time she made it back onto the docks, the sun was just beginning to set. Seeing Rayleigh standing there, hands in his pockets, waiting for her made her pulse quicken.

They smiled at each other before Ray held out a hand. She ignored it and instead wrapped her arms around his and he chuckled warmly before they started walking.

“So, what should we do, kitten?” he asked, a kiss pressed into the crown of her head.

“Oh, I’m not sure, stir up some trouble maybe? It always seems to find you regardless.”

Rayleigh tipped his head back with a loud laugh and she giggled in response. When he looked down at her, his eyes were filled with silent promise. “No, seriously. Anything you like. As long as I’m with you, that’s all I need.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Renge said with an answering smile. “That’s all I need too." 

And together, they walked into town.

[gaiah]

Hey I just have to say your art is breathtaking. Your shading is beautiful. I'm in love with the varied line weights it makes things just pop and your way of showing light is so pretty omg

Thank you so much!! It makes me so happy when people appreciate my art. Lately I’ve been thinking that my art wasn’t good enough, so this really made my day!☺️

[starsandskies]

Can I just say I think your artwork is INSANELY STUNNING!!! Like the way you draw your line art and do your shading makes so beyond jealous I think it’s breathtaking🤍 anyway that’s all, hope you have a lovely day!

OMG, nice to meet you, and THANK YOU SO MUCH! ♥♥♥ I'm so glad you like it.

I hope you have a nice day too!

[elianzis]

Not me scrolling through all your breathtaking animatic frames while listening to my own dang song! Your art just /feels/ like the drowsy shade of summer. You’ve got an eager fan following along with your updates ☀️ —Muse

OMG, thank you so much ♥️

I'm just hoping right now that I won't ruin anything when I'm done🥲

[starlitmark]

OKAYYYY! ★ for the fic ask game and i want it to be forrrrr... Once upon a dream!! it's still one of my fav works from you and im so curious about the process cause it seems like that took a lot of time and work 🤍

OMG ONCE UPON A DREAM!!!! MY DARLING BABY?????

★ what was the scene you most wanted to write in [fic]? what was the hardest scene to write?

Okay so the scene I most wanted to write was when they first see each others' soul marks cause >>>>

"A breeze flows through the garden making several flowers and individual petals fall from their places in the trees. He gasped at the sight he saw because of it. He sees you smiling down at him, your hair gracefully falling around your face, the petals and flowers falling around you, your eyes sparkling with every star in the ever-expanding universe. You see his expression full of awe and it steals the breath from your lungs. Without a second thought you lean down and place your lips gently against his, you place a little pressure as you could allow him to pull away if he wanted. That’s not what he wanted though, he was over the moon with the feeling of your lips against his. He wrapped his arms tighter around your middle holding you there against his body in the grass in the garden. You feel him smile against your lips, you couldn’t care less about the breeze nipping at your skin, or the flowers tickling your ankles as he held you. When you pull away from the sweet kiss you see him blushing a bright red shade that would rival a rose. Flowers surround his head like a beautiful halo, the colors that primarily showed in his halo were red and yellow, the contrast against his soft brown hair was perfect. Purple Aster delicately intertwined with the yellow tulips, pink roses gently kissing a red camellia by his temples. Your heart fluttered at the sight in front of you, his smile glowed as he looked at you as you leaned down and pressed another kiss into his smile."

Like ????? Some of my best writing ever the fucking detail I put into that????

The hardest scene was actually describing the fae village and Renjun's soulmate oddly enough! I fought myself over what color to make Sakura's hair and eyes and how to describe her wings... all of the elements of the village too were like... jesus my brain was creating smoke at that point... that scene took me like 4 days to write on its own...

"Before the conversation could move any further Injun returns to the doorway with a smile on his face. He moves out of the way to let you both in, you strap your horse to a tree branch nearby before entering the beautiful home. When you enter you see a beautiful young woman by Injun’s side. Her hair is long, wavy, and the most gorgeous shade of lilac you had ever seen, small flowers are woven into her hair. Freckles adorn her cheeks and nose, her eyes a pale shade of green complimenting her hair. Her dress is of a style you’ve never seen in the human world, it’s light a flowy, there’s nothing restricting about the clothing except for the corset around her waist to fit her form. The sleeves of her dress loose all down her arm and the collar wide showing her shoulders and upper sternum. The white of the fabric made her look even more ethereal than you could’ve thought someone to look. You notice she’s barefoot just like the two men are, you hadn’t taken a true note of it until now but it must have something to do with their culture. Her wings contrasted it all, they were glossy and translucent just like Yuta’s and Injun’s but her’s had streaks of red and orange throughout the intricate details. Moving to look around the room you see plants growing through the entirety of the building, everything made of branches and wood, it was so breathtaking, more breathtaking than any part of your oh so majestic castle. Everything felt warm and inviting here. Stone walls could never feel so comforting, even though you grew up surrounded by them."

That payoff though was so >>> tbh I don't know if I could write something that lives up to the standard of this (and Tale As Old As Time) I just love me some fantasy/historical aus and it shows

Send me a symbol and I'll answer the questions about the fic you choose

[odi-myers]

─── 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇-𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐄 ───

request ➜ “ hiii can you please do an erik (poto) x reader where it was during the masquerade and he sees reader after his dramatic entrance as red death and, instead of having that dramatic exit, he asks (more like, commands) her to dance with him and everyone is just watching them? you decide on how it ends omg i am so excited, thank yoou! ”

pairing(s) ➜ 2004! erik destler x f! reader

format ➜ oneshot / drabble?

warnings ➜ formal writing, tried to make it sound refined 💀

a. notes ➜ please this request has me rolling i just ughhhh it’s giving me life!! tysm for this request!! i had a lot of fun writing this, but i apologize for how formal the writing seems.. please tell me if you’d like me to stop that style moving forward! <33 the ending is kind of open-ended… tell me if you want a part two? 👀

the moon was hung high in the sky, surrounded by the faint light of the faraway stars. they burned brightly against the dark backdrop of the stage of night, dancing and twirling much like the dancers did in the make-shift ballroom within the infamous Opera Populaire. 

stunning women, young and old, danced and twirled around in black and off-white ballgowns alike, glittering pieces adorning their lovely figures alongside whatever fabric their dresses were sewn from — no doubt many of them being absolutely expensive in fabric and quality. handsome men both young and old too pranced about the elegant floors, dressed in their finest suits of the most select quality. bodies intertwined gracefully, eyes bright with laughter and intoxicating feelings of adoration at gentle and subtle glances and grazes against partner’s in dance. 

the bright lyrics of the night sang out into the exquisite walls of the Opera Populaire’s halls, further resonating throughout the night as drinks were shared and dancing abundant. pairs danced the night away happily, brightly singing along to the live performing music.

“ masquerade! paper faces on parade!

masquerade! hide your face so the world will never find you! ”

and a stunning figure glided across the floors amongst the sea of patrons, dawned in a lovely off-white dress suitable to the theme of the masquerade party. the dress the beautiful figure dawned was nothing too flashy nor too out of the picture for the occasion — it was simple in a way that was breathtaking, hair done in a way that would leave jaws dropping in its simple radiance, and makeup gorgeously applied to lend itself to the dark-light theme, and their natural mystery and beauty. this figure was you, lovingly dawned in an outfit that was bound to leave many awed in your charming presence. 

you adjusted the masquerade mask that sat on your head to make sure it didn’t slip off, the bridge of your nose having been a bit sore from where the mask had dug into your skin after hours of sitting on your face. the party was everything you had dreamed it would be and more, your eyes still yet to be sore from the contrast of decorations and the spinning of dancers. you yourself had been out on the ballroom floor many a time the night already, your heels beginning to feel the slight burn from how much you spun from dance partner to dance partner, many suitors waiting for their chance to attempt to woo you, yet were sorely turned away at the unconvinced smile that curved on your lips when you said you weren’t interested.

“ masquerade! every face a different shade! 

masquerade! look around-

there’s another mask behind you! ”

you soon found yourself leaning gently against the elegant railing of the grand staircase, if you could even call it a railing. lovely marble, glistening in the reflection of the lovely candle light that burned to give the ballroom an alluring glow. 

at the thought, your mind drifted to the caverns just under the opera house, lit by what you guessed to be thousands upon thousands of small, white candles. the glassy lake stretched on before you in your mind, pulling at your heart. strangely, you found yourself missing the odd comfort of the lair you knew so fondly. 

your relationship with the opera ghost was something unique, if not a bit odd. you wouldn’t say you were particularly close, but close enough to the point where you were able to visit him at least a few times a week and sit near the musical genius as he let his thoughts flow freely. fantastical ideas of musical genius always seemed to flow easier when you were sat beside the mysterious phantom of the opera. sometimes you both would often talk, or simply bask in each other’s presence. and you knew he must trust you at least in the slightest, as he would sometimes gently ask favors of you such as asking you to go onto the streets of france to purchase a book with musical literature or of poetry for inspiration ( with money he provided you with from his salary, of course ). 

if anything, the opera ghost was still as mysterious to you as the day you first met him, accidentally stumbling through a not-fully-closed mirror and curiosity taking you from there. you knew next to nothing of his history, only rumors of the phantom before meeting him and being within his oddly charming presence, you came to realize. 

charming, and alluring. dare you say, attractive, even. 

“ masquerade! grinning yellows, spinning red... ”

your heart leaped with the bouncing and swelling music, standing yourself up straight to resume to the dance floor. your heart still yearned for the feeling of swaying to the music, to spin in the arms of a masked stranger that you wished was another masked man you knew of.

“ masquerade! take your fill-

let the spectacle astound you! ”

and suddenly, a figure clad in red caught your eye, and vibrant gasps soon followed. fearful faces morphed onto the now still women who were once, a few minutes ago, twirling without a care in the world. hardened faces with eyes of fright slipped onto their partners, clutching each other to their chests, arms wrapped protectively around each other. the once joyous atmosphere now turned stale, and tense. 

it was him, the phantom of the opera. standing rather confidently at the top of the elegant marble steps. the stilled air remained tense as he slowly moved his way down, face adorned with a new mask, still white yet bone-like, resembling that of a theatrical skull. dark makeup around the sockets of his eyes and mask made his eyes pop in a way that was cold, and intimidating. the phantom dawned an all strikingly red outfit, a stark contrast to the black and white theme of the masquerade party. and his dark figure was chillingly completed with the addition of a rapier style sword. 

“why so silent, good messieurs?” came his deceptively charming voice, his boots echoing like a pin drop in the eerily silent room as he slowly stepped his way down the grand staircase, his mouth curved up in an equally as deceptive, and handsome, smile. gently cold, his smile was, and oddly charming in the same way. “did you think that i had left you for good?” came his chilling voice again, sending shivers down your spine that you desperately hide behind your wide eyes that screamed your surprise. what was he doing here? why was he here? had he not been trying to hide from everyone in the first place, remain low-profile?

“have you missed me, good messieurs? i have written you an opera.” you, and most likely most everyone else, just then noticed the sheets of music bound tightly together that he held in his hand, lifting it up as he spoke. “here i bring the finished score; don juan triumphant!” he spoke loudly, raising the music he had no doubt expertly written and scored before letting it fall with a heavy thump to the marbled floor, making many in the frightened crowd jump at the noise that cut through the still silence. he had unsheathed his rapier, brandishing it proudly, and frankly, intimidatingly. you held your breath, the glint of the sword reflecting in your eyes. 

“fondest greetings to you all.. a few instructions to you all just before rehearsal starts.” erik’s sharp gaze turned onto an all-too familiar opera diva, and you froze as your phantom gestured at her with his weapon, quickly swallowing the gasp that threatened the deafening silence of the room. “carlotta must be taught to act; not her normal trick of strutting round the stage.” and suddenly his rapier was then pointed to the next actor, carlotta’s husband. “our don juan must loose some weight; it’s not healthy in a man of piangi’s age.” the tip of the rapier just poked against piangi’s rounded front, the man’s eyes widening in fear for what could happen. with that, erik quickly rounded towards the newest owners of the opera house, making several crowd members gasp and stumble back. “and my managers must learn that their place is in the office-” his dark eyes narrowed as he looked between the two men, his once smile, despite being a cold one at that, now faded to a hardened line. “not the arts..”

and suddenly, you found yourself locked into a gaze against erik destler, the opera ghost many so greatly feared. for barely a second you found yourself frozen in time, staring into eyes so deep and so hurt themselves that you weren’t quite sure what else to do other than remain in contact with him for however long he allowed. you found your mind wandering, as did he, as you soon found your worried thoughts replaced;

erik destler looked great in red. 

well, you were quite confident he could pull off anything he wanted to, but he looked exceptional in the vivid red he dawned now, with lovely black and white accents that made you well aware of how handsome he looked, despite the situation. 

and erik stared at you back, locked deep into your alluring gaze. he always knew he loved that unique color of your eyes, but paired with the gentle lighting of the ballroom and with the grace of your ballgown, he was confident in saying he was completely and entirely enamored with you. the dress hugged your figure stunningly, your hair pinned back in a fashion that framed your visage perfectly, and somehow enhanced the loveliness of your flushed cheeks from a full night of dancing, smile lines faintly visible. looking at you was like looking at a work of art, he was quite sure.

and yet, despite coming off as the intimidating, cold phantom of the opera, his chilled heart pounded rhythmically in his chest. erik was undoubtedly floored, his mouth slightly perked open in breath. 

breath-taking was the only word that came to his mind. 

and suddenly, erik stood barley inches away from you, having made his way all the way down the staircase, chest gently heaving as though he were trying to catch his breath. his weapon had since been sheathed, hastily, now standing before you. almost hesitantly, his hand reached up, a near vulnerable gesture for someone such as him, being in public’s eye. “dance with me..” he commanded quietly, voice much softer compared to the broad tone he had on when speaking before. this was an offer meant for you and you alone, you realized, with wide, hopeful eyes. 

with eyes glued to the back of your heads, a pretty smile couldn’t help but wind it’s way onto your lips as you slipped your hand into his awaiting, gloved palm. 

“as you wish.” you murmured softly, eyes dancing to meet his as the smallest of smiles broke out onto his own face, so fast retreating that you would later contemplate if he ever actually smiled.

erik’s free hand found your waist, his chest unnoticeably beginning to swell as warmth pooled into his core as he pulled you flush against him. his mouth opened to say something, hesitating vulnerably, before the ‘peace’ was ruined by one raoul de chagny barging back into the ballroom, brandishing his own rapier after having snuck off to grab the weapon. 

this was not the night you imagined.

@ odi-myers.tumblr. all works reserved. please refrain from stealing, plagiarizing, reposting, or claiming any works created on and by this blog as your own.

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Part 3

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Eventual Smut

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / enemies to lovers / bug gets meta

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Mia.

Mia, Mia, Mia. 

Oh she was lovely. You’d been chatting with her on Baekhyun’s phone for the better part of an hour and for a moment you forgot all about the man who now laid with his head on the other end of the sofa with his feet stretched over your lap and a phone held up to his face.

He was scrolling through something, giggling and typing. 

The phone you had down in your lap vibrated with another incoming message. 

Laughing emojis, a row of them. She was sharp. Wit and charm came through in her messages and you found yourself responding with an equally long string of laughing faces. The ones with tears leaking out their eyes. She felt so damn familiar and comfortable the moment you got past the awkward introductions and you really started talking to her; the jokes were easy and the topics were something you knew enough about to fake your way though thanks to Baekhyun’s many passions and his absolute inability to shut up about them. He’d held you hostage with so many video games and anime episodes, you knew exactly what she was talking about now. You felt like a complete pseudo pro. A well-read scammer. A faker but a weirdly genuine one. 

You went back to her profile and dragged each of her pictures across the screen with the tip of your finger, switching between them all. She was pretty. She was smart. She was interesting to talk to. She was perfect. Just perfect. A steady warmth had seeped into your chest as you looked at her. It was welcome and actually felt nice at first; if not a little bit unexpected. But the longer you looked at her smile, the more intrusive that warmth felt. After too long, it was sticky and almost too warm. You struggled to breathe deeply. You were breathing normally, there was absolute nothing off about your breathing, but each breath you took suddenly failed to satiate. Why were your lungs suddenly missing oxygen? They were misbehaving without any reason to. You closed out her pictures and returned to the chat window. 

She was asking about the latest episode of an anime. Something that was in its final season. Something you were sure Baekhyun would also be watching soon if he hadn’t seen it already. You could feel her excitement in her words. Something epic must have happened.

“Baek did you watch Attack on Colossatron last night — the latest episode?”

“Not yet—no spoilers, I’ll kill you.” His response was quick and you responded in a similar fashion in text to Mia; without the death threats. You weren’t quite that comfortable with her yet. 

Baekhyun shifted and moved a foot behind you, digging it under your butt into the gap of the couch cushion. You ignored the intrusion because you were talking to Mia. His soon to be brand new girlfriend by the looks of the conversation. You caught what you were certain was subtle flirting just below the contexts. Then outright flirting. She was sending you a picture from the dating profile you’d set up for Baekhyun. She had to have saved the picture to send it. It would now be saved on the camera roll of her phone where she would likely look at it again and again, admiring how good Baekhyun looked in it. 

She was commenting on how unexpectedly handsome you were and how most of the men who shared interests with her did not look like you. 

She was asking for a picture of you—err, of Baekhyun. She was having trouble believing such an attractive man like you was real and she actually used the word catfishing, careful to insist that she wasn't accusing you of anything; just that she was sure you looked just like some celebrity she saw on twitter and one couldn’t be too careful. 

But you were quick to cooperate and to agree with her need for assuredness. As a woman, yourself, you understood her suspicions instantly.  Yes, Baekhyun did look shockingly attractive in the profile pictures you posted of him. You could see how someone might doubt that he was real and he lived only 5 miles away and was now sweeping her off her feet with his engaging conversations and hilarious jokes. You’d be sure and make him thank you well for this later. 

The pictures of him were surprising, even to you, and you lived with the guy. You saw him every single day. Yet something about seeing him in these pictures, dressed in that black button up shirt and jeans and looking at the camera with a breathtaking natural smile; one he gave you so easily that night when you told him just how good he looked all dressed up. 

“Peanut, look at you! You look so fancy.” 

“Wow, I cant believe how handsome you are.” 

It only took a couple of sincere compliments for the man to unfold before you and the results on camera pulled you into an uncomfortable and unwelcome thoughtfulness when you looked at them alone later. Of course you knew he was handsome. You just hadn’t been prepared for how very attractive he would look on camera. 

You got all his best angles and the man had taken you off guard when you’d bravely asked him to give you a sexy look. 

It happened just at the end of your little makeshift photo-shoot. You were both a little tired, you could tell with the way he slowed down with his talking and his movements. You could always tell when Baekhyun was tired. Sometimes before even he knew it. 

The sun had gone down and you’d pulled him from your room into the living room where the lights from the city shone through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, creating a soft glow on his face. The moon was full outside. It was a chilly winter night and snowflakes drifted down to the street below. You were feeling perhaps a bit romantic. Perhaps you were a little bit grateful to be inside and warm and spending your time capturing the pretty face of your annoying best friend. 

You’d gotten a bit bold with the pictures and he’d been behaving so well, not even complaining when you asked him to lay down on the floor so you could capture the beautiful city-scape in the background of the shot. He’d gone still while you set up; moving furniture and turning on a lamp in the corner for more lighting on his features — you wondered briefly if maybe he had fallen asleep. 

You laid down beside him holding your camera up in the right spot to get something nice. His eyes had closed up and his breathing was even and slow and when you’d softly called his name with your camera acting as a barrier in between your faces, you’d expected it to act as more of a buffer than it did. 

“Baekhyun?”

When he heard you call him, his eyes opened and he turned his head toward the sound of your voice; the shift in his eyes was stark and breathtaking and he blinked them closed and then very slowly he opened his eyes again for you. 

“Hmm?” His lips stayed closed when he hummed a response.

What exactly were you going for here? The mood was set. The lighting and the scenery were in place. Hell, even the position of him was set —him laying beside you on the floor in the middle of the night like this when everyone knew it was much too late to be entertaining any of this nonsense. The longer you looked at him the more shades of pink you saw in his cheeks. The pinkness matched his lips and the lighting made every bit of warm flush on his face tell such a romantic story. He looked so very warm and inviting. 

You took a shot and you said it. If the picture came out well, that would be rewarding enough. 

But, you didn't actually expect a real sexy look. Not really. You’d expected something silly, or something goofy or something with an awkward smile. Maybe it was the nighttime, or the way he unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and just let it hang open with the clear smoothness of his chest visible, but when he pulled his chin down and ran a hand through his styled hair, bringing it down just a little bit; giving it a messy and tousled look, you had to grip the camera tighter to keep from doing something dumb like accidentally dropping it. You could not understand the flash of nervousness you felt run through you. 

He lifted a single eyebrow. You had called him and it was clear from the inactivity in the camera that you weren’t taking any pictures of him. 

“Hmm?” He repeated the hum that came from the back of his throat. His eyebrow danced and it was the only movement on his face.

You inhaled a breath and you did it.

“You look incredibly sexy right now.” 

Despite the camera, despite the props you’d placed around him just so, his eyes seemed to seek out yours with purpose; one hand on the floor was within touching distance and the other hand rested over his forehead from when he’d ran it through his hair, the tips of his fingers landed over one of his eyes and it was so perfect. You felt goosebumps all over your skin.  

The moment his eyes locked into yours you gripped the camera as if your life depended on it. When his lips slowly parted with a gentle exhale and the tip of his tongue appeared between his parted lips and slowly touched against the corner of his bottom lip a surge of heat rose up the back of your throat. 

“I do?” He said with his eyes on yours as if he was looking directly at you; as if the camera did not even exist. 

You hit the button and you heard the shutter click. 

You allowed yourself a moment to look at the picture Mia had sent you. Only a moment though because she was talking again. She was instructing you to send a new picture right now, with your left hand holding your right earlobe. It was the kind of specific sort of picture that would prove that you really did exist. 

“Peanut,” you reached down and tapped his leg three times quickly, “Peanut, our new girlfriend wants a picture of you right now with your,” you held up your hands in front of your face, figuring out which was the left one, “left hand holding your right earlobe.” You held up your left hand for him to see and he pulled the phone down from his face to look at you. After a second his opposite hand was raised and he gripped his earlobe with his fingertips. 

“Is that your left hand?” You raised your left hand higher and lifted your eyebrows as you shook your head once. You felt a sense of urgency in getting this picture to Mia as fast as possible to calm her doubts. 

“It’s my left. My left is your right, stupid. Why do I have to do this?” 

You snapped the picture close enough that it would look like a selfie and sent the image to Mia. She was satisfied enough to send an emoji with heart eyes and you could feel victory at your fingertips. You could hardly believe this was working. 

“She thought you weren’t real.” You said in between messages and Baekhyun’s leg was shaking behind your back. He’d been sitting still for too long here and the nervous energy was building, you could feel it trying to escape from his limbs. He probably needed to go for a run or something or you were in for a long and noisy night of singing or dancing or whatever other shenanigans he thought you needed to suffer though. He hummed a non-response to your answer, clearly so distracted by what was happening on his screen that he couldn’t be bothered to give you any more of his attention right now. 

Baekhyun was not so quietly giggling under his breath and you looked up caught by that very particular sound of it. Something felt familiar in the sound of that giggle; more, the intentions behind it. The particular sneakiness of it maybe made you look up and it took you another second of listening to the way he stifled himself, tried to control the sounds of his laughter before a realization dawned and recognition struck you on the head. 

Baekhyun couldn’t have been giggling, laughing, texting, having a grand ol’ time on his phone because you had his phone in your hands. You had been talking to Mia for a whole damn hour, who in the hell was Baekhyun talking to and was that your phone he was using? 

“Baekhyun who are you talking to on my phone?”

His stomach bounced with stifled laugher below his shirt and he was typing again. His eyes secured on the screen of your phone and not at all looking at you. 

“Baek, who is that. What are you doing?” It wasn’t that you didn't trust him with your private conversations. He knew more about you than probably any other human being on the planet. It wasn't the problem with him knowing it. The problem was with that laughter. The problem was with what Byun Baekhyun might do with all of the things he knew about you and with whoever the hell had the misfortune of texting you at the exact moment when he had your phone.

“Ben,” Baekhyun said after a long pause and you searched through your recent memory for a person who had that name. You’d matched with some guys last week but you were certain there was no one with that name. 

“Ben? Who the hell is Ben? I don't know a Ben” You were leaning now and Baekhyun bent his legs up as soon as you moved, blocking your lean with his knobby knees. You leaned on the other side of them and he moved them to block again. 

The maneuver brought out the panic in you. He was blocking you from your own phone. He was up to something and he was now blocking you from reaching for your phone and you had just nearly murdered him in the kitchen over cheese, did he really want to do this again? 

“Give me my phone. Baek, who the shit is Ben?”

“I don't know. Some guy named Ben. Said he was some lady’s nephew or cousin or something. He knew your number and he knew your name, and wow he is—”

Oh god. Your co-worker Susie had done it. The son-of-a-bitch had actually given your phone number out this time even though you had successfully, you’d thought, dodged their high pressure tactics to set you up with some eligible bachelor who would probably be 10 years too old for you, balding, with bad teeth, or bad habits, or would be obsessed with his car or his muscles or some sports team and you’d have to make nice small talk with someone who’s interests, frankly, bored you to death until you could politely let the man down. 

And now, what was Baekhyun telling him? What kinds of horrific lies was this little gremlin giggling about over there. You tilted and reached for him again and he moved his knees again. 

“Bug, how- how do you spell hemorrhoids? Hem—hem—er—roids, no that’s not right. Let me look it up. It’s important that I represent you well. A strong, intelligent woman who can talk about her hemorrhoids.” 

You leaped then, over the stupid knees you flew and you landed hard — seated across his belly and the pained grunt he let out was satisfying to hear. He doubled up in pain while simultaneously shoving your phone underneath himself into the softness of the couch cushions and you watched it disappear somewhere below his butt where he assumed you would not dare to reach. 

“Baekhyun,” you said in as calm a voice as you could pry from your lips. Your teeth gritted together as you spoke and much of the sweetness was lost in the delivery.

Your hands were feeling the softness of the cushions that he laid on. You followed an arm that went down and disappeared behind his back and your fingers traveled to the end where you felt no phone at all, only his empty hand that you pulled up. You did the same on the other side, moving to the other hand and bringing it back empty too. On his face he wore a smug, self-satisfied smile. 

“Peanut,” your next attempt at a compromise pulled his name out in a sweeter tone and his lips turned up into a mischievous grin with teeth bared and all. To your own ears though, you really laid it on thick. This was your darling Peanut. You let your whine come through and you pulled your lips into a pouty frown.

“Bug,” he said, mimicking your overly saccharine tone with a tiny lift of an eyebrow on his face and a fake frown that didn’t touch the rabid joy in his eyes.

“Give me back my phone,” you said and your hands dug into his ribs hard as he reached for your wrists and quickly grabbed to hold you still with both of his free hands before you could do any actual damage to him. 

You struggled against his strong hands, reaching with out-stretched fingers despite his hold on you for a few more tickles before he tightened the grip and you could not connect any more attacks. 

“Give me back my phone,” he giggled back, again mocking your ineffective attempts to overpower him. You simply couldn’t do it. He was much stronger than you were.  

The childishness of this brat! You closed your eyes up tight as you forced yourself to take a deep calming breath. You could feel close to the edge again. Close to losing control. How many murder attempts did you need to commit today? Maybe you needed to enroll in anger management classes. You tried to count to ten again but gave up halfway through to threaten him again. 

“I’m going to get mad, give me my phone.” The friendly tone you had forced was gone and you could hear the actual anger in your voice now. Any reasonable person would concede. Any normal human adult would laugh it off playfully, say ‘okay, okay, I was only kidding’ and hand the thing over. A normal person would even apologize for taking it in the first place. 

Baekhyun was not a normal person.

“Ohhh, I’m going to get mad,” you heard him say in that same mocking voice and no amount of calming breaths could touch it. You could count to ten thousand and still want to destroy him. You squirmed all over and pulled at your wrists that he held in his grip and his hold tightened the more you moved until you could only lean, you could only fight back with one thing. The more you fought him, the tighter his muscles constricted and it became evident that you simply could not win this way. Your hands were useless to you. Only your head was free. You’d have to use it to your advantage, but how? 

You could headbutt him; break his nose. Break your head. Make both of you take a trip to the hospital during a global pandemic. Catch the dreaded disease. Lose your sense of taste and smell and potentially infect someone vulnerable that you loved. 

He was like a cat. Only interested in playing with something until it was dead and then losing interest after he couldn’t torture it anymore. You couldn't simply play dead. He had you trapped and you needed that phone back. 

You could bite him. Break the skin. Mean business for real. Make him bleed and make him cry. Make him pay for all of it. Give him a nasty scar on his hand, or on his neck or on his chest, maybe rip off his earlobe like Tyson did to Holyfield. Send him to the hospital during a global pandemic. Go to prison for assault charges. Get a nasty infection from a prison tattoo. Die.

Your struggle for a plan made you go physically still and you looked at his face; into his eyes and in those eyes sat all the usual bullshit and toddler behavior that you usually saw when he had latched on to something to tease you with, something he could play with and have fun with at your expense. Something he could exploit. 

You could use your mouth. 

You could use your lips.

You could use your tongue. 

What is this? Some sort of trashy rom-com? Would you really stoop so low, so early in the story? Kiss him to distract him, become a walking, talking, kissing cliché and an unoriginal failure of a human being? Get scolded and told to leave his home. Become homeless during a global pandemic. Without high speed internet access, lose your easy breezy data entry job. Get hungry and get cold. Possibly end up selling a kidney on the black market to make ends meet. Get a nasty infection from the shady surgery. Die. 

No. This wasn’t a cheesy romance story. This was your life. You’d have to live with the consequences of your choices and there was no way you would steal his first kiss just to get petty revenge.

This wasn’t enemies-to-lovers, this a violent revenge plot and you were pissed off god-dammit. How dare this idiot get you into such a compromising, such an undignified, such a frustratingly suggestive position and hold you captive like this. 

How dare he still be smiling through your entire inner monologue?

Didn't he know anything at all about women and the powers they possessed in their bodies? 

He flinched visibly when you dropped down; lowered your chest to his chest and you were face to face with the man. Your quick movement startled him and he loosened the grip around your wrists enough for you to rotate them before he tightened his hold again and watched you with wide eyes. That grin finally, finally fell from his mouth. His lips sat down-turned and pink. He’d gone positively pink with your quick movement. Your plan to move into him instead of struggling to get away clearly startled him. You felt the advantage at once. 

When you moved again it was only your eyeballs and it was to look pointedly at his lips before you pulled your eyes back up to look into his eyes. The slow movement made a bold statement, even to someone as clueless as he was. You were on top of him. He could most definitely feel the entirety of your weight on his body and your breasts were flush against his chest. And now, you had just looked down at his pink lips. 

Whatever steady and in-control breathing he had, stuttered and his body below yours went rigid with his eyes wide; obviously unsure of what you were about to do and much too on edge to take his eyes off of you. 

What became clear as you stared at his flushed face up close was that he had not thought this far ahead in his plan.

He probably didn't even have one to begin with. 

You moved closer to him and his hands released their hold on you again. You heard a gasp for air when his hand let go. You weren’t convinced he let go on purpose. There seemed to be a disconnected look inside his eyes right now. 

Instead of going straight for his earlobe and squeezing the shit out of it to teach him a lesson, you kept this going. You could not help it. You felt drunk on your own power and you didn't actually want to hurt him. You just wanted the damn phone so you could see what damage he had already done and begin cleaning up the messes. 

He swallowed and his lips opened to speak.

“W-What are you doing?” 

Nervous and trembling and uncertain; oh he was all of the above. Your free hand was moving now, traveling down the length of his arm to his flank when he moved again, this move felt much more frantic than the last. He grabbed your wrist more gently than before when you got close enough to touch him and he pulled your hand back. A feeble attempt it seemed, made by a man who had just come to his senses again after being in a daze. 

You leaned in. “Peanut,” you said directly into the space below his ear. You could smell him here. He smelled nice. Clean, and vaguely familiar. You remembered your shampoo that he still had and made a mental note to get it back from him. The scent of it on him was different than on you. The breath you took at his neck definitely smelled different. 

He was frozen stiff and when you pulled up to look at his face, his eyes were closed. He swallowed again and you reveled in the realization that you had not heard a single peep out of him since you began your counter-attack. Not a giggle, not a mocking laugh. Not a silly impression of what your voice sounded like to him. He was as quiet as a mouse. It paid to be pro-active. You felt free, as if you’d just been armed with some new very effective weapon that you had no idea would work so well. 

He had your hand again and was pulling — keeping you from reaching below his body to reach where you were certain your phone was stashed. Right here below his left butt cheek. Maybe even inside his back pocket. Either way it was there and you were centimeters away from it. 

So you went in again. This time it was a whisper. This time you went too far. You felt the softness of his neck brush against your bottom lip.

“Give it to me, while I am still being nice.” 

It was the exhale from your lips after you spoke that seemed to do it. The puff of air from your parted lips that drifted over his ear and warmed his neck, you felt him squirm below you and his hands moved releasing you all over and all at once. 

He was going now. He was leaving. You felt it happening below you. 

It was a tactic you’d used before when he tried to grab a hold of you and throw you onto your bed, or when he tried to wrestle something away from you in the kitchen. 

He went boneless. When you did it he would shout and laugh and lose his grip on you and you’d use the distraction to drop to the floor and roll out of his grip in one motion. It was much more difficult for him to do right now, being directly under you on the couch like this, but somehow he was vanishing fast. 

He moved so quickly it was like he melted from beneath you and he was pushing you off at the same time as he rolled, simply rolled from the sofa down onto the floor below in a single motion of retreat. 

You know that was where he went because you heard the rough thump of his body hitting the floor hard and you heard the grunt as he vocalized the pain of gravity having it’s final say. You were pushed with a force that made you roll onto your butt and below your legs you felt the rectangle of plastic and glass of your cell phone. 

He was moving fast. But he was also talking as he did it. 

“You are mean,” was what he said and he was halfway through the living room by the time you registered his complaint. 

Something about his fit irked you though. Was it such a big deal — so out of the question? Did he hate the idea of you kissing him, even if on accident that he had to overreact like this. 

“Oh settle down, It’s not like I was going to actually kiss you, Baekhyun.”

You’d expected to hear his bedroom door slam shut but he’d stopped with his hand on his door and turned his face in your direction. His expression was odd. 

Baekhyun was rarely upset with you, so you had very little experience with what he looked like when he was. He had been upset with others around you, but it wasn’t ever directed at you.

“I know you weren’t.” 

You could see it from where you sat and it made you stand up. Wait, was he really upset? At you? Because you pretended like you were going to steal his first kiss? Because you took something so precious to him and weaponized it against him? 

He was breathing hard and you took a step in his direction. 

“Baek, I was just—” 

“—trying to get your phone, I know.” His voice was cold and his words were short.

You suddenly felt like absolute shit. It moved fast and it overwhelmed you. You’d made a mistake and Baekhyun was upset at you. You’d acted carelessly and thoughtlessly and you’d hurt him. 

“We...we were playing around, I was just playing around, I didn’t mean it, Peanut. I’m sorry.” You could not help the thickness in your voice. You could not help how your voice cracked as you spoke up quickly, needing to get the apology out into the air before he could misunderstand any further. 

Before he could wake up and realize how low of a person you could be when you really set your mind to it. Before he could understand that maybe you didn't deserve so many chances to get your life together and get a better job, or be a better roommate, or make more money and pay more rent, or delete your facebook, or create better passwords. 

You realized you were crying when the wetness dripped down your chin and landed on your arm and as soon as you noticed you lifted both of your hands up to cover your face — before he saw, before he noticed or heard. You held your breath to keep from hiccupping or making any sort of sound at all and you closed your eyes and tried to stop the quiet gasps. 

You succeeded for the most part. 

It was the smell of him though. You did not notice that he moved, but you smelled him again, only this time it came with a warmth that enveloped you where you stood.  

“I’m not mad at you,” he whispered over your head and you inhaled through the snot that filled your nose, unable to get any air through. You gasped through your mouth instead and hiccupped through the breath. 

“You seemed mad at me,” you said into his shirt, the same shirt you’d cried into hours ago. This shirt would have so much of your messes on it by the end of the day. What in the world had gotten into you today? Maybe you were going to start your period soon. This was getting ridiculous. 

His hands rubbed slow and steady circles over your back and until the gasping stopped enough for you to lift your head and look into his face. 

“I’m not,” he said with more conviction the second time and you almost believed it. Had it not been for the strange way his eyes dropped yours so easily you would have. 

You didn't say that though. 

His lips parted once and his eyes grasped yours in that flimsy way again and his lips closed up again as he swallowed it away and didn’t say what he was about to say. 

You shook your head. He had to tell you. Whatever it was, you could work on it, do some self reflecting, or read some self help books. 

“What is it? Tell me.” Your insistence was desperate and his damn eyes refused to stick. It was making you crazy the more you noticed it. 

His mouth opened again and this time he inhaled deep enough to speak for hours and hours. 

“Peanut, what?” 

“Don't—” he began and you closed your mouth and looked into his face, dipping to catch them when his eyes dropped again and again. He noticed the dance you did and you saw the light dance inside his eyes. 

“Don't what? I’ll do it. Or I won’t do it. Whatever, just tell me.” If there was one thing you were good at, it was talking to this man. You could always pull it out. Whatever he had been sitting on, keeping from you, whatever he had deep down inside that was begging to be let out. You could talk to him. He could talk to you. It’s as part of the magic you shared with him. 

“Peanut,” you said again, refusing to let him close up again, refusing to let this go. He had to say his piece for the upset to move behind you both, so you could get past it. 

“Don't use your beauty as a weapon against me.” 

As soon as the words left so did his eyes, but that did not matter because you could not look into his face anymore after he said it either. 

Your…beauty?

Baekhyun didn’t look at you and see beauty. Impossible. You were a mess. Some days you showered. Some days you did your hair. These two events rarely happened on the same day. 

Outside you could pull off some-what put-together and even downright attractive when you wore the miracle bust enhancing bra you bought off some shady website he definitely told you not to enter any credit card info into, but inside you felt like a circus clown wearing a respectable young woman suit. Every day you worked to stuff the oversized shoes into your feet and struggled to zip them up. Every day you painted over your honking red nose with concealer in the hopes that it wouldn’t rain today and give you away. 

“It’s really shitty and really unfair to do to me.” He kept talking and you felt like maybe the ceiling had caved in on you. “I know who I am. I know my place and I know what league I am in.”

He said the word league with a whisper and you stared at his mouth as he spoke such nonsense words you hardly had any thoughts that made any sense inside of your own head. 

League? He was such an amazing person, but league? You’d heard some serious bullshit come out of his mouth in the past, but this? Seriously? 

He was a genius. He was beautiful inside and out and he was such a good person, a good person to you, a good person to his grandmother, a good person to his online friends. He was so good at whatever he wanted to do and he was really fucking sweet when he wasn’t being ridiculous. And even when he was being ridiculous it was so funny you usually didn't mind the ear deafening noise involved. He was a great dancer and an even better singer and he had so much to offer. 

He was shy. He was terribly embarrassed and debilitatingly nervous at the mere idea of talking to any other girl that wasn’t you and he took a whole lot of warming up to until he opened up to you even, but when he finally did, after tiptoeing around him for 4 months after you’d moved in and he finally grabbed a bowl of popcorn and sat beside you on the couch to watch lifetime movies with you, making fun of the writing and the acting the entire time until he was making fun of you for crying at the happy ending. 

He was reliable too. He refused to even entertain the idea of you moving out just because you could no longer afford the previously agreed upon rent after you lost your job. He searched for something to hold you over until you could get back on your feet and while the data entry thing was mind numbing, it was genuinely saving your life most days. You could at least pay your bills. You could at least force him to accept the much lower rent you started paying him again after you got your first paycheck. 

Oh god. League? 

You could feel it building again. The burning in your eyes peaked and you felt your face frowning down dramatically and the tears were flowing more freely than before. 

“You’re such an idiot.” You cried openly and his face changed at once into one of extreme concern. His hands waved over you uselessly, occasionally connecting to pat over your back in some attempt to stop this. 

“You are such a catch, you stupid idiot!” You were wailing very loudly. You could not help it. He was such an idiot. And he was such a catch. 

“Oh my god, are you yelling at me right now? After everything you’ve done to me today, now you are yelling at me and calling me names. Great. Just Great. Here, my face doesn’t hurt, why don't you punch me in the face too.” 

The sarcasm made you half laugh half choke in the middle of a particularly strong sob and you coughed with your mouth open to be able to breathe. Your nose was still useless. 

“Jesus,” he said to himself, “my mouth was open.” 

You were being steered. Your eyes were still closed and you were pushed now. You didn't really want to move but your stubborn legs saved you by taking a step instead of letting you fall flat on your face. You opened your eyes when you felt a fresh cold breeze against the wet surface of your cheeks and you saw in front of you the contents of the freezer. 

There were some frozen veggies. Some ice in a bin. Something meat-like in a freezer bag. And about six different boxes of various ice creams. Most of them chocolate. 

“Get one,” he said and his hand was pushing your elbow up and steering your hand toward the open box of chocolate popsicles. 

You grabbed with your open hand and he pulled your elbow back like you were a claw machine and he was working the lever. 

You grasped the popsicle between both of your hands with a small smile building against your will. 

“Eat it,” he said from behind your head and you were already ripping at the plastic wrapper. You didn’t even have a chance to throw away the wrapper when his hand was pushing at your elbow again. It bent upward and the chocolate plopped right into your open mouth. 

“Bite,” he said. 

You bit. He didn't have to tell you to chew and swallow. You knew how to do the rest. 

After the ice cream you were seated on the sofa next to him and he pulled out a portable game system to keep him entertained while he pressed play on the movie he’d put on the big tv on the wall. 

It was Bridget Jones's Diary. You had seen it enough times to know the entire movie by heart and still, still you laughed at every joke, swooned at every steamy look, and squealed like a piglet at every kiss scene. It literally did not get old. You could fall asleep and wake up watching this movie for the rest of your life and be as happy as ever. 

After he’d felt you’d been babied enough for him to trust you not to dissolve into a fit of disaster without him, he left you alone to finish your movie. He said something about a bug he was working on fixing and you could hear him working from behind his closed door in his room. 

He had been quiet as he worked. He usually was, save for the occasional song he sang along to, or work sounding phone call he took. 

The credits were rolling on your happy ending and you could feel the beginnings of the first few period cramps twinging inside of your abdomen. 

Everything made sense now, as it usually did whenever your period began. 

You’d just stood to head toward the kitchen for some pain medicine when Baekhyun’s bedroom door was abruptly pulled open.  

He bolted through the doorway and his phone was in his hands, his eyes were wide. Panic was written all over his face as he searched the room for you and finally made eye contact with you in the kitchen. 

You had a bottle of pain reliever in one hand and another popsicle in your other and you were trying to figure out the logistics of getting the bottle of medicine open without having to put the sticky melty treat down anywhere and things weren’t going so well. Things were getting drippy. 

Baekhyun arrived then and you beamed a wide and genuinely happy to see him smile. He would help you. He would open the pills. He would stuff you full of them to stop the pain. 

At this point you didn't even care how many. You’d take however many the Gods decided to shake free from their plastic prison. 

“Help,” he said, walking by the medicine you held out to him with his phone displayed in his hands. “Help me, she...our girlfriend, Maya, she—”

You gasped at his mispronunciation and you lifted your popsicle hand toward his face as you made the sounds with your mouth, “Mia. Like Mee-uh.”

“Mia, Maya, Moira, She is — she is talking to me.” His eyes were wide and they were crazed. 

“She’s saying things and she’s really fucking smart and clever and she’s saying things to me, Bug. She’s, oh god, -the fuck didn't you tell me she was cute. Fuck. You have to help me. She thinks I’m cute too. Oh God. What do I do? What’s next?”

He was breathless when he was done and both of your hands were still full. Your popsicle was beginning to drip down your wrist. You would have to clean it up before you got ants. You still had some medicine to take too. 

He was pacing. He thought she was cute too, it wasn’t just you who thought so. He said it himself. Although he reacted this way with nearly every girl you had seen him interact with. Hell, just last week he made you answer the door for the delivery chicken because the girl was cute and he wasn’t about to scribble his signature all over her hand by accident. 

“Baekhyun, I already laid the groundwork for you.” Maybe the day was finally catching up to you but you felt suddenly very tired and in no mood to play make-believe with him right now. 

“What does that mean?” His face betrayed his utter cluelessness and you sighed deeply, feeling much of the same melancholy mood return to you despite the chocolate and your favorite movie still fresh on your tongue. “What does that mean? I don't know what to do. You were going to help me.” 

He was right. You shouldn’t just abandon a friend in need like you’d abandoned the popsicle in the trash can just now. 

“You have a new episode of your show to watch. She also likes that show. Why don't you stream it together?” 

His eyes lit up and his smile was wide and beautiful. Then he was spinning on his heels without even so much as a glance back. He typed into his phone and had nearly reached the door of his bedroom without even acknowledging your help when at the last minute you caught the look he shot you. It was a bright smile. He was excited and his smile reached his eyes. 

“She said yes,” he said, “thanks, Bug.”

His door closed and you reached for the bottle of pills. Grabbing just two today, you downed them quickly and retreated to your room with a gloomy, lonely, little storm cloud floating stubbornly over your head. 

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Tag list: @j-pping @blahblahblah-boo @his-mochi-cheeks @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13 @baekinmylife @insta1010 @nana-banana @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff​​  @byunbabybaek​​  @beg0neth0t420