#anyway who wants to come whip me into shape again. lately i have been feeling so ugly and worthless. i need to lift big pieces of metal

[mercuryislove]

I miss being a gym rat :C

[iovetecchou]

⌜Telephone ⧸ Tecchou Suehiro⌟𓂃༞♡

༞ Summary: Congratulations! The well-renowned Hunting Dog; Suehiro Tecchou was undoubtedly in love with you. But, you don’t even know him— and more importantly, how did he know you? You might have to retrace your steps to figure this one out...

༞ Contains...! fluff! head over heels!tecchou, implied stalking (from tecchou... lightheartedly?), slowburn, “he fell first, but they fell harder” type beat, brief mentions / descriptions of wounds, scars, blood and physical abuse (NOT from tecchou)

༞ Author's Note...! the fic is going backward in time, i know that could come off as confusing but i promise i condensed it the best i could. the reader is basically recounting their memories, and of course yesterday would be more memorable than the day before that. so keep that in mind while reading if it helps!

༞ GN Reader.

༞ 2,735 words.

"W-Wait! This is too much!"

Tecchou was irrevocably head over heels in love with you, and you hardly knew him… This was his fourth advance toward you this week.

He was simply clueless. But who would Tecchou be without a pinch of oblivion?

What day was it— Wednesday, no, Thursday.

Today, Thursday: it was a bouquet of nearly a hundred roses. Personally delivered by him at your front door. How he got your address? Ah… up for debate. Tecchou was a Hunting Dog, after all. You thanked him for the roses but declined to accept them. He apologized for the unannounced visit, bowing his head before turning on his heel. You watched as he walked away from your apartment door. Your mind was telling you this was the right thing to do… but something in your heart was screaming out for you to—

"W-Wait…! Come back here tomorrow night— and no big grand gestures! Just bring yourself, leave the rest to me… okay?"

Tecchou whipped his head around at the sound of your voice. His mouth hung agape as he nodded in agreement. You could tell by the unbridled joy swirling within his chestnut irises that he was holding back his excitement. You hesitantly waved him off before inching your way back into your apartment. As you shut the door, the panic seeped in.

"Ah… did I just make a big mistake…?"

You sighed, trying to recount the events of this week that included Tecchou. Okay… we're going to need to backtrack for this. Starting with…

Wednesday: he showed up at your work. Again, how he got the address..? A true mystery. Anyway, Tecchou showed up in a tasteful black suit. Begging your boss to let you take a thirty-minute lunch break. The man got down on his hands and knees. Frankly, taking your boss so off guard; he had no choice but to say yes. After that, Tecchou took you to a five-star Michelin restaurant. He gazed into your eyes the entire time, asking you a million questions ranging from,

"Are you an only child?"

To,

"How do you feel about mixing the same colored foods?"

Upon looking at his plate, you knew the ladder question was equally important as the first.

After you two finished up, Tecchou walked you back to your workplace a few minutes early, so you wouldn't be late. Not wanting you to get scolded by your boss. As you made it to the front of the building, He grasped your hand; leaning down to kiss your knuckles, before taking his leave. All you could do was watch in awe as he walked away. How could he be so nonchalantly bold in this manner?

He was so puzzling… but something inside you yearned to solve this Tecchou-shaped puzzle.

Tuesday: a care package showed up at your doorstep. Weird… you didn't remember ordering anything? As you examined the box, you noticed the return address said it was from 'The Hunting Dogs headquarters'. Seemed legit enough to you. You took the parcel inside without giving it another thought, placing it atop your kitchen counter. Your eyes grew wide the moment you pulled the box open. You were staggered by the contents, to say the least. It was filled with all your favorite snacks and bottled drinks, some books you've been meaning to read, and most importantly… a note. From…Tecchou?

Tecchou… Tecchou… Tecch— who?!

Your mind was still fuzzy from the events on Monday and most importantly, Sunday. But the note jogged your memory a bit. It read,

[ To, The Brave Y/N:

I hope this package arrived to you safely. And that I remembered your favorite things correctly. The conversations we had in the hospital yesterday solidified my feelings for you. Y/N, what you did on Sunday most people won't do in their lifetime. You've thoroughly captivated me, and I hope you know your bravery paid off. The woman you saved is doing well and wished for me to send you her regards. Please rest up as much as you can. I will be in touch."

From: Suehiro Tecchou of The Hunting Dogs ]

Ah, that's right! It's sort of coming back now… wait, did this stranger named 'Tecchou' just confess to having feelings through this note?!

Monday: was a blur. You were in and out of consciousness. The blood loss really kicked your ass. More than you could have ever anticipated. As your lids finally opened entirely, you were alarmed as you saw a man in a uniform sleeping in front of your hospital bed. He was sitting in a chair that he clearly pulled to be closer to you. The man was resting his head atop your covers, snoring silently. His hat was hanging off the arm of his chair, silky dark-brown locks cascaded across the same blanket that covered you. Just as you were about to reach out; to touch his tempting tufts of hair, a hushed voice scolded you.

"He fell asleep moments ago, don't disturb him! This gentleman has been up all night with you. He's lucky he has some certification. Otherwise, I would have kicked him out ages ago. You two were chatting for hours! Keeping all the other damn patients on this floor awake! So, please, let him sleep. I don't need to hear you two chatting it up for seven more hours."

You couldn't recall a single conversation with this stranger that rested before you. Yet this nurse claimed otherwise? Your head was pounding still. You didn't have the energy to pester this nurse for all the details on this unknown man… at the moment. You knew he wasn't a threat to you, considering they allowed him to stay. And he had some sort of certification. So, that's all that really mattered to you at that moment. As you began to teeter out of consciousness once more, you just had one small question you managed to blurt out in your haze. That you would soon come to forget the answer to anyway.

"Wait… what's... his name..."

The nurse rolled her eyes before whispering,

"He said his name was Tecchou, Tecchou Suehiro."

[ Sunday: was the catalyst for all of this. This so-called Tecchou was on a mission, and you just so happened to be in the crowd when disaster hit. There were many causalities and tons of collateral damage from some asshole criminals' abilities. A piece of debris grazed your arm. You were in shock from the whole situation, not even realizing you were injured, until you felt something warm cascading down your forearm; blood.

You didn't focus on it too much. Your mind was more preoccupied with helping anyone else that could've been in danger at the time. Based on the people around you, your wound was on the "non-life-threatening" end of things. That's when you heard a pained cry, and your head whirled around faster than you could anticipate. When you caught a glimpse of the unsettling scene unfolding, your whole being flooded with rage.

The assailant had a young woman by the hair, laughing in her face about how "pathetic" she was. The poor woman just continued to sob. Begging the vile man to let her go. You couldn't stand back and witness this any longer— before you knew it, you were standing before the evil man himself. You grasped his wrist, yanking fiercely until his hold on the terrified woman loosened.

"Hey… why don't let her go, asshole. Don't you have anything better to do with your life?"

Your words struck a nerve inside the perp. In a matter of seconds, the woman was set free. The treacherous man opted for your arm instead.

"The fuck did you just say to me?"

He squeezed firmly, causing more blood to spill from your wound. You scored your bottom lip with your teeth, not allowing a single sound to slip past your lips.

"You heard me, loser. Do you get off on hurting innocent people? If so, that's pretty sick. I would be ashamed if I were you. Do you think dear old mommy would approve of your actions?"

He was livid at this point. Grasping your arm with more intensity. His free hand wound back balled into a fist and headed straight toward you. You closed your eyes, bracing for impact… but it never came? He was just about to punch you, was he not?

That's when a stern voice broke you out of your thoughts, causing your eyes to snap open.

"That's enough! Let them go. Immediately."

Your eyes thoroughly scanned the tall man beside you. He had stopped the criminal's fist with his own as if it was nothing. His lips were pulled into a firm line, eyebrows pointed down in aggravation. Based on the uniform he was wearing, this man was without a doubt, a Hunting Dog. You let out a small sigh of relief at this realization before your vision went blurry.

"Thank god… a Hunting Dog…"

Your body was failing you from all the blood you lost; legs giving out before you. The last thing you remember was feeling a strong set of arms encasing around your waist as your vision went dark. ]

Ah, that's right… This week turned your world upside down. But you still weren't sure if this guy, Tecchou, was your silver lining.

Friday: finally reared its head. The minute you got off work, you began preparing for his visit. He was a Hunting Dog… it's not like he would harm a normal person like you, right? Yeah, you were going to be perfectly fine… not like he was a complete stranger who somehow found your apartment and workplace; showing up to both with strange, but thoughtful gifts and gestures…

"Maybe I didn't think this out properly—"

Just then, the doorbell rang. Too late to turn back now. You slowly approached your door, gazing through the peephole; to make sure it really was Tecchou. Well to no one's surprise, it was. He was standing at your door… empty-handed! He actually held up his end of the deal.

Tecchou was clad in a grey pair of sweats. Paired with a black crewneck hoodie and Converse sneakers. This was the most casual you'd seen him all week. It threw you off slightly, but hey, this is what you asked for.

You were greeted by a warm smile from Tecchou the moment you opened the door. He had a slight pink hue to his cheeks at your seemingly shocked expression of his appearance.

"Do I… look strange?" Tecchou questioned. Tilting his head slightly before you gestured for him to come in.

"N-No! Not at all… you just look— you look nice." You stammered out, ushering him to the couch before you could embarrass yourself further.

"Really? Thanks. I think you look just as breathtaking as always, Y/N." He stated casually before taking a seat on your sofa. You could feel the heat rising to your face.

How could he say something so lovely in such a monotone voice?!

"Um… ah, thank you, Tecchou. I picked out a movie for us to watch if that's okay…" You suddenly felt very nervous as you took a seat beside him.

You grabbed a throw blanket that rested beside you on the couch before draping it over yours and Tecchou's lap. Your shoulders grazed past one another as you did so. His whole body tensed from this. More color painted his cheeks from the light touch alone before he stifled out a cough.

"Yeah, a movie sounds great."

You gave him a small smile and a nod before reaching for the remote resting on the coffee table. You pressed play, having already queued the movie up. You nervously played with the rings that decorated your fingers as the film began to play out. Tecchou watched you in his peripheral vision, picking up on your nervousness. Without another thought, his large palm ghosted over the back of your hands, halting you in your fidgeting.

“Hey… it’s okay. There’s no need to be anxious. If it makes you feel more at ease… you could… play with my hand instead.”

Your gaze was pulled away from the television at his words. Eyes now honing in on his hand placed atop yours from where they rested on your lap. He was gentle, hovering over the back of your hands. You could tell he was trying to make you feel less uneasy with his considerate gesture. It pulled at your heartstrings more than you would’ve liked to admit.

“Okay… thank you…”

You muttered sheepishly. Offering Tecchou a curt nod before grasping his hand with your own. Tecchou offered you a tight-lipped smile in return before averting his attention back to the movie. He was right; tracing along his digits did put your mind at ease. His hand was far coarser in comparison to your own.

Tecchou’s palms were littered with calluses and small nicks. Some were farther along in the healing process than others. As well as a few deeper scars. As you looked down at his larger hand; admiring them in all their glory, you wondered how Tecchou got these markings. There had to be a story behind them, no doubt. But you began to question what Tecchou's life was truly like. What he’s seen; what he’s endured.

You had completely tuned out of the movie. The only thing you could focus on was how desperately you needed to know more about this man sitting on your sofa. Your gaze trailed higher, subtly trying to admire him without getting caught. You were fascinated by the three markings under his left eye, wondering if they had any significant meaning to him. Tecchou looked so relaxed like this, too. You were positive this was the calmest you’d ever seen him. It felt nice to view him like this, out of the uniform and away from the battle. It almost felt taboo to see him in this light.

Sure, he was a little bit… forward, but the more you thought about it… the more endearing Tecchou became to you. Maybe, just maybe… he was that silver lining.

Before you knew it, the end credits were rolling. Your hand still interlocked with his. Thumb lazily soothing over the back of his palm. Tecchou’s eyes trailed over to you. His heart did a flip at the sight alone. Your fingers were intertwined, free hand tracing each and every single one of his digits. He watched your content face next, causing his mind to wander. You looked so angelic like this. Handling him with care and having such a warm expression etched into your features.

“You truly are an angel…”

Your head snapped up at his words, pulling you from your trance. You felt the heat rising to your face once more before you sputtered out,

“W-What?!”

Tecchou smiled so gently at you, eyes swirling with adoration before he repeated himself.

“You’re an angel, Y/N.”

You quickly shot up from your seat. Laughing nervously before you blurted out,

“Ah— I’m far from that! If anyone is an angel here, it’s y-you…” Your hands clasped over your mouth in embarrassment. Did you really just… blurt that out?!

Just then, Tecchou did the unthinkable. He started… chuckling…? You weren’t even sure he was capable of laughing. But you were sorely mistaken. His laugh was truly captivating. Seeing Tecchou with his defenses down, letting himself enjoy the moment was something you didn’t think you could ever get tired of.

You wanted to see him like this more often. You wanted to be the reason he experienced pure unbridled joy like this.

“Let’s just agree to disagree!”

“Not a chance. I’m sorry Y/N, but you’re an angel.”

Before you could argue back, Tecchou sat up. He towered over you as he now stood before you. Craning his neck down to get a more apparent view of your face.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow? I'd like a chance to redo this week. I want to take you on a proper date, Y/N.”

You slowly nodded in agreement. Still feeling flustered from his words only moments ago. Your eyes grew wide as he began leaning in closer. You watched him quizzically as he closed the distance between you two. His lip pressed softly against your cheek, leaving a lingering kiss. Tecchou slowly pulled back, eyes never once leaving yours.

“Is that a yes?”

“S-Sure… just nothing fancy, okay?”

༞ thanks again for reading, i appreciate you all! and there will definitely be a part two. i still need to write for Saturday, after all!

[websterss]

TY FOR ACCEPTING THE BLURBS💗✨

How about a lil blurb for Samara’s first birthday?🥹

Someone asked me about doing blurbs for this fic and I said yes but never heard from them again 😂😂💀

Anyway…okay okay okay. I don’t think the core four would want anything so big. Since they almost got killed I figured they’d want a small family birthday party. I feel like Chad would go out of his way to ensure that Samara had the best birthday, even going as far as like dressing up as her as her favorite character from a movie

“Did you get the-“

“Yes!” Sam smiled reassuringly.

“What about the-“

“Already bought.”

“Did you buy plastic-“

“Right here.” Sam lifted the package up.

Your shoulders relaxed.

“Hey momma bear everything’s gonna be fine. The cake and cupcakes are in the fridge. The food is done and ready to be served. You have nothing to worry about. See look that little rascal is living her life smashing two blocks together.” You look to find Samara on her playmate. Her curious little eyes venturing around the house. Hands smashing her building blocks together. You close your eyes and laugh about it because it was funny. It was humorous and adorable and seeing her mindlessly play with her toys made you want to see the world through her eyes. Cause everything that you’ve seen was something you wanted no memory of.

“Is Ethan coming?”

“Yeah he said he was on his way.” You furrow your brows. Pulling your phone out to look over what he had said to you.

“This is nice.” You look up to Sam.

“Yeah?” You quirk a smile.

“Yeah. It’s been a year now. Since…everything. Since Ethan came back. It’s nice.” Sam shrugged. “I’m sure Samara loves having her dad around too.” She gestured to the one year old.

“She does. If I gotta be honest I think she’s grown more attached to him than me.” You laugh but another voice steps into the kitchen entryway.

“Who’s gotten more attached?”

Ah the man of the hour.

“You.” You push off the counter and go around to greet him. He gives you a sweet kiss, you’re left sighing in his embrace. Many he promised he’d keep on giving you. His smile widens as your heads press against each others.

“What about me?” He laughs bringing your conversation back into focus.

“Just that Samara’s grown attached to you more.”

Ethan furrows his brows. “What? No she hasn’t.” He denies.

“Oh…I don’t know she’s seems pretty attached.” Sam’s mouth forms into and ‘o’ shape then starts beaming over your hips. You both whip your heads at the girl crawling over to you two. You scoff out a laugh. Your hand patting Ethan’s chest as he looks at the baby in disbelief.

“Oh yeah…definitely not attached to you.” You tease him, but nearly melt at the sight of him ushering her closer with his hands, before picking her up.

“Dude you’re making me look bad in front of momma.” He shakes his head at the baby, chewing on her fist now. “You love us both, equally.” He dips his head to blow a raspberry on her chubby cheeks. The gurgles and giggles melodiously playing throughout the kitchen. You press the sides of your hands against your lips. The smile you adorned couldn’t be wiped away. “It’s your birthday. It’s your birthday. We gonna party like it’s your birthday!” His voice raises in pitch. He raises Samara’s baby fist high as if he was guiding her in a waltz.

“Thank you for not singing the rest in front of her.” You nudge him with a stern mom look. Then start making faces at your baby girl. She reached out for your cheeks, gripping them tight as you go to plant a big ole kiss on her lips.

“She’s one.” Ethan defends.

“She’s in her developmental stages. I don’t need you scarring her innocent ears. No we don’t do we.” You coo at her.

“Let’s get the party started bitches!”

You deadpan as you look to Ethan, then Sam. “Spoke to soon…” You turn in time to find Mindy and Chad making their way over to you guys.

“We’re not late are we?” Mindy looks to everyone in the kitchen. Tara walking back from using the restroom.

“Nope just in time actually. Parties all here now.” You reassures.

“Great cause I brought the good stuff…” You imagine he was about to place a 12 pack on the counter but stifle your laughter as you observe the goods more closely

“Juice pouches…” Everyone starts to crack up.

“Caprisuns to be exact.” Chad corrects with the point of his finger. “Which we will drink around the birthday girl on her very special day.” Chad makes a gimme gimme motion. After you reprimanded him for the whole his baby scenario. Chad had somewhat eased up on just blunt out taking her out of Ethan’s arms and letting Samara make the choice. She reached out for her uncle and Ethan helped her go into Chads arms this time. Chad still had his moments, his jabs that would piss you off, but within the year, it was slow progress, but progress nonetheless. The two greeted each other with the slight raising of their chins. You looked away at the verbal less interaction. Smiling because all felt good and well for once.

“And…when she does doze off due to her sugar intake.” Chad begins. Mindy comes over and covers the baby’s ears, scared he’d curse in front of her. “This is what the grownups will have…” Chad had readjusted his hold on her and with his free hand. He lifted a whole bottle of liquor.

A chorus of ‘yeahs’ and ‘woos’ exclaim throughout the kitchen. The birthday girl looking amongst her little family with curiosity. She displayed her excitement as well with faint claps of her hands. The action causing you all to laugh fondly at how precious she truly was.

ASDFGHJk 😖🥺

[beels-burger-babe]

Totally Not Lost

***Holy!! I'm so happy you sent in a request! You know I love my boy Mammon, so I will gladly do this. I hope you enjoy @holygarm. I decided to up the intensity a little and also add in my own personal phobia of the dark, so I hope you don't mind. *** Summary: Mammon takes MC treasure hunting, only they kind of get more than a little lost along the way, and it's starting to get dark. TW: Anxiety/Anxiety Attacks

You glanced around nervously as you and Mammon continued to trek down the gnarled, unmarked, trail of the deep woods. It had been hours since your adventure had first begun. Mammon had come to you early that morning, super excited about a treasure map that he had found. His face was practically glowing with joy in a way that made it impossible to say no to him when he asked you to tag along.

It was as bright as it could possibly be in the Devildom when you two first took off. According to the map, the treasure was supposed to be under a crow-shaped stone near the base of a lake deep in the woods. At first, you were just as excited as Mammon and eagerly tried to help him decipher the map as went further and further into the wilderness. But now what little light the sky offered was beginning to fade, and threatened to trap Mammon and you into a blanket of pitch darkness. You glanced nervously up at the sky and tugged on Mammon's jacket. "H-Hey Mammon? Maybe we should be getting back soon." Mammon whipped around to look at you with wide eyes. "And forget about the treasure?! Are ya insane? We've been lookin' for it all day; we ain't givin' up now!"

You swallowed down the lump of fear in your throat as you noticed just how dark it was getting. There could be all kinds of monstrosities around you, lurking in the black, and you wouldn't even know. "I know. B-But I really want to go back. Please. It's getting dark." Mammon's expression lit up as he put an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close. "Not to worry MC! As a demon, I can see the dark. I'll lead the way. You just stay close the GREAT Mammon, and I'll take care of everythin'!" You felt your stomach sink. You knew he meant well, but you really didn't know how much longer you could be out here. "M-Mammon that's really kind and sweet of you, b-but I just want to go home. I don't like the dark." He looked at you for a moment before his expression softened. Now that you mentioned it, he could see the way you nervously clenching and unclenching your fists. He could feel the subtle tremor in your body. Most obviously, he could see your wide eyes darting around you, searching for any signs of danger. His poor human was scared out of their mind! Mammon sighed and nodded. "Alright. I suppose a fragile little human like yourself shouldn't be out here this late anyway," he took your hand into his own and turned around. "Come on, MC. I'll lead the way back. You'll be safe with me." You nodded and allowed yourself to press closer to Mammon as the two of you walked through the woods. Only ten minutes later, you found yourselves back by the same tree you had initially stopped at. You frowned as you noticed it, and glanced up at Mammon who had a slightly confused expression on his face. You felt your heart stop at the sight of it. "Mammon...are we lost?" Mammon quickly looked down at you with wide eyes. "Lost? What no! We're not lost! We're just...taking the scenic route?"

He was very obviously lying. You didn't have time for this. The dark was getting closer and closer. Soon it would completely envelop you and trap you its void. You wouldn't be able to see, and you'd be vulnerable to Diavolo knows what. The fact that you were lost made matters worse because it meant that there would truly be no escape. You'd be stuck in these stupid woods forever and no one would ever be able to find you, and- "MC? MC, ya need to breathe." You let out a squeak at the sound of Mammon's voice and suddenly became aware of the fact that he was right; you weren't breathing. You should feel yourself shaking and your heart pounding in your chest as though it was about to burst from your rib cage at any moment. Mammon took one of your hands and placed it on his chest as he looked down at you. His expression was also one of panic and fear, but for a very different reason than your own. "MC, ya need to listen to me. I-I'm not as good at this stuff as Satan or Levi, but I'm tryin' my best here. Just breathe. Follow along with me." Under your sweaty palm, you could feel Mammon's chest rise and fall with each exaggerated breath. You took in a staggered breath as you tried to copy the rhythm, causing Mammon to relax a little. "Good. Keep going. Y-You're doing good," he pulled you closer to him and pressed his forehead against yours. "We're gonna be okay, MC. The moment you're calm, I'm gonna get us outta here. I promise." Wrapped in the safety of Mammon's arms, you were able to gather yourself enough to steady your breathing once more. However, by the time you had, the darkness had finally fallen, and you could barely see an inch ahead of you. You whimpered and pulled your hands into your chest as you felt panic begin to rise within you once more. Mammon snarled and looked around the two of you. He wasn't going to let you work yourself up like that again. He refused to have you being so scared while you were with him. He was your protector, and he'd be damned if he let you panic again. "Right. Enough of this. I'm gettin' ya home. Now." Mammon shifted into his demon form and unfurled his wings. He grabbed your arms and laced them tightly around his neck. Although you couldn't see it, his face was flushed as became nearly nose to nose with you. "Hold on tight, okay? I won't drop ya, or nothin'. I just need ya to trust me." "O-Okay." You tightened your grip on him and yelped as he swept you up into his arms. You could feel his breath tickle your face as he smiled softly down at you. "Ya ready?" With your nod of confirmation, Mammon flapped his wings and launched the two of you into the air.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as the wind roared around you. Mammon tightened his hold you, and flew quick and fast with all the confidence of a former angel. Though the air around you was cold, you felt your cheeks heat up at the intimacy of the moment. You closed your eyes and nuzzled your face against his chest, hearing the fast beating of his heart. In no time at all, the two of you were back at the House of Lamentation. The moment Mammon had your feet on the ground, he cupped your face with his hands and frantically started searching for any sign of injury or pain. "Are you alright? You didn't get hurt or nothin' right?" Rather than respond, you simply wrapped your arms tightly around him. "I'm alright. Thanks for helping me." You bit back a smile as you heard him sputter in search of words. Eventually, you felt him hug you back and place a gentle kiss on the top of your head. "Don't worry about it. You're my human. It's my job to look after ya." ***Holy this was so cute! Thank you so much for the recommendation! I hope you like it!***

[sunflowershouto]

if they thought you liked the other twin (osamu, atsumu)

𝐚/𝐧: i was suddenly struck by inspo for the miya twins so here's this -leo

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: pining fluff, friends to lovers, light angst with a happy ending

my haikyuu masterlist

𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔

✰ Atsumu is so whipped for you.

✰ He enjoys the attention he gets for being a star player, and even the fangirls help to feed his ego sometimes, but he didn't care about any of them. Not like he cares about you.

✰ They don't really know him, so what's the point?

✰ You're different to him, though. You didn't care about the fans or the TV interviews, or any of the usual things that people noticed about him.

✰ You got to know him, and it made him want to get to know you back, and somewhere along the way, Atsumu fell in love.

✰ The only problem was Osamu.

✰ Well, maybe that wasn't the best way to put it. It wasn't like Osamu was doing anything wrong, but it was hard for Tsumu not to notice how much time you'd been spending with his brother.

✰ You'd come up to Osamu after practices and whisper something to him, and he'd nod, and Atsumu would have to watch as the two of you disappeared off somewhere that he wasn't invited.

✰ It killed him inside a little, since he'd always thought that he was closer to you than Samu was; if you had feelings for Osamu, then why hadn't you told him?

✰ He tried not to be a dick about it; he would whine a little whenever you and Osamu would disappear after practices, but what he was showing was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to how deeply he was hurting at the thought of you falling in love with his brother.

✰ It was after another practice, and there you were on the sidelines with that stupid freakin' beautiful smile that he loved so much. He was standing by Osamu as they packed their duffel bags back up, and he tried to ignore the pang in his chest as you jogged up, surely going to drag Samu away again.

"Atsumu!" you called. "Could we- Uh... Could we talk?"

That was a surprise.

He glanced to Osamu, who gave him a small nod before shouldering his bag and walking off the court without another glance. He couldn't even be nervous about whatever it was you wanted to talk about; he was just glad that he was finally the one that you were speaking to. "Sure thing, darlin'," he replied, picking up his bag and following you to a more private area.

"Okay, uh- Here goes: There's something I've been needing to tell you for a while, and-"

"Ah see..." Atsumu sighed, all of that hurt hitting him again like a ton of bricks. This was where you finally did it right? This was where you'd tell him that you and Osamu were together, this was where you'd finally rip his heart out.

"You... do?"

"Yeah." He tried not to sound bitter, but he found it seeping through anyway, a harshness weighing down on his inflection. "You and 'Samu are goin' out, right? Figured that out for m'self a while ago, darlin'. Ya don't gotta tell me."

"Wha-" You stared at him in bewilderment as the pieces click into place, and you realized what he'd been thinking all this time. You couldn't help it, and burst out into laughter, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth.

"What's so funny?" he asked, puffing his chest out slightly and crossing his arms. He'd spent so much effort trying his best not to lose his shit over the idea of you in love with Osamu, the least you could do was not laugh in his face.

"Atsumu, I am not dating your brother. In any way. I've never even thought about it. I asked you to talk because, well..."

"Oh. Oh m' God." And finally he got it.

"I really like you, y'know? And I was wondering if you'd want to go out sometime? Like, on a date? Osamu actually helped me make all the plans." You were far less nervous now, in part because of Atsumu's misunderstanding, but mostly because of the huge, goofy smile that spread across his face.

"So... I'm guessing you're on board?"

"Oh, sweetheart, you've got no idea," he chuckles, pulling you into a tight hug and kissing the top of your head. "Ya scared the hell outta me, y'know."

𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔

✰ Osamu's feelings for you snuck up on him.

✰ He'd always been drawn to you, but he didn't think it was any different than anyone else. You were a cool person, and he liked that you saw him for him, and not as part of a matched set.

✰ He loves his brother, but can he be blamed for wanting some things to himself?

✰ He's not annoyed per-se when you start getting close with Atsumu—what he feels isn't harsh. It's more like a balloon deflating through a tiny outlet as he feels his importance to you slowly being overtaken by your friendship with Atsumu.

✰ He can't figure out why it bothers him so damn much when he sees you joking around with his twin, or even just cheering for him at matches.

✰ He doesn't place the feeling as jealousy until he's stuck at home, flicking through channels on TV until he lands on some crappy romance movie. He watches the two main characters play off of each other, and he can't help but realize that one of the leads reminds him of you.

✰ And then he pictures Atsumu across from you, and that awful feeling comes back to him, burning a hole in his chest.

✰ Strangely, it's not so bad once he knows what it is that he's feeling, because at least he can start to deal with it.

✰ Nonetheless, he's a little worried about you. Osamu can read his brother pretty well—well enough to know whether or not he has feelings for someone. Honestly, he'd never thought that Tsumu seemed interested in you.

✰ Valentine's day was tomorrow and Samu had been unfortunate enough to overhear a conversation between you and a friend.

"You're going to bring him chocolates?" Yua whispered to you, her eyes shining.

"Mhm! I think he'll really like them too! I'm gonna go home tonight and work on decorations for the box." You had no idea Osamu was listening, and if you did, you would have probably died on the spot.

"I think he'll say yes," she replied thoughtfully. "Some of the girls have been upset lately; they say that Miya-san really likes you."

Osamu wished in that moment that the earth beneath his feet would open up and swallow him whole. Had he been wrong? Did Atsumu feel the same way that you did? And worse, had a selfish part of him been hoping that you'd be rejected?

His jaw tightened and he turned away, careful not to draw your attention as he slipped off in the other direction.

He considered faking a cold the next day, but that was childish, wasn't it? He dragged himself out of bed and got to school, dreading lunch period, when he knew everything would finally come crashing down around him.

The bell rang for lunch, and he packed his things quickly, not wanting to be there to watch you confess to his brother.

Imagine his surprise when he felt a tug on his sleeve just as he reached the doorway, and turned to see you standing there in front of him.

"'Samu? Could we go somewhere a little more private?" you asked, tensing up slightly the way that you always did when you were nervous.

"Er... Yeah."

What? This wasn't at all what he'd thought would happen, and his head was swimming as he followed you to the library, staring at the brown paper bag that you clutched to your chest.

You ended up behind one of the taller shelves in the back, and Osamu's hands were twitching in his pockets as he stared down at you.

Time was moving agonizingly slowly as you opened the paper bag and withdrew a brightly colored, heart-shaped box.

OSAMU was written across the front in careful lettering, and the world stopped around him.

"Samu, I-"

"I'm in love with you," he breathed out, hands moving from his pockets as he stepped forward to place his hands on the sides of your face, closing the distance between the two of you in one fell swoop.

Before you could answer, his lips were on yours, and your heart was bursting.

He was grinning when he pulled away, eyes gleaming with adoration as he took in your smile.

"I love you too, you big dork. I... was not expecting this to go so smoothly," you admitted, reaching up a hand to brush back a lock of his hair.

He's beaming when he says, "Honey, you've got no clue just how long Ah've been wantin' to do that."

[jae-canikeepyou]

| into you | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

word count: 7.7k+

summary: as the uni campus’ social butterfly, it’s a given you have a lot of friends, invited to almost all gatherings and all adore you. for the latter, jaehyun does too. he’s so into you and likes how you’re his happy place. or; jaehyun— an unsocial, often misunderstood person, finds his behaviour different with you and perhaps wants to keep you for himself, not anyone else.

genre: fluff + elite!au

a/n: i’m back after a while since i’ve been so so busy! this is not proofread again and i’m sorry if there are any grammar mistakes down there :> this is not canon with “letting go” scenario in case there’s any similarities with the characters. hehe anyway i hope you all enjoy reading! ♡ ~j.

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seated at the front row in the amphitheatre-shaped lecture hall, jaehyun frustratingly put his hood back on to hide himself from those who were staring from all around. they were definitely whispering about him, hands by their lips to conceal their voices in case he heard them. he hated this much attention, all because he chose stay of out school and classes— and claimed that it didn’t interest him.

so did coming today.

but the point was his attendance for this class was on the line and his busybody parents were sick of receiving phone calls or mails that kept filling their boxes, all for the same reason; that their son could be expelled despite handing assignments.

he rolled his eyes at the heat creeping up his ears as the whispers grew louder. he slammed the thin granite table, causing everyone to flinch at the sound and his presence. “can i have some quiet?! i can hear you guys talking crap about me!” he turned around at the pairs of eyes, soon frozen like meerkats.

they ticked him off. he couldn’t stand being in the same room with people who repeatedly questioned his existence of being here. he knew that rumours were going around, that the ‘jeong jaehyun’ in high school got into an private elite university— it could be anywhere but never expected it‘d be this campus. it was written in the judgment of their faces.

“chill man,” a guy his age swung his lollipop with legs on the desk. “some are curious why you decided to show up today since first semester’s a week away from ending, while some even wonder why you got into such prestigious and elite university.”

jaehyun’s eyed him slowly from legs to head. “who are you supposed to be?” he snorted at the stranger.

“just a guy who wants to break the distraught you’re trying to start.” he kicked his legs off the desk and stood up on his suede shoes, showing off his pearly whites.

he looked at everyone whose eyes averted from the two of them. “our town’s a small neighbourhood, so everybody knows everybody. we know exactly who you are, jeong jaehyun.”

“excuse me?” he swirled his tongue that it was evident he was pissed. “careful what you accuse me of. you and i both know it’s not going to end well-”

“they’re near they’re near!” a voice echoed the hall, cutting jaehyun’s attempt to intimidate the young man any further.

and with that signal alone, jaehyun could see and observe ladies fixing their hair and make-up, while the guys gave fistbumps to those near them. he rolled his eyes at him returning the favour to them as the guy unbuttoned his collar. “what’s wrong with you?” jaehyun was utterly weirded out. “with everyone?”

the crimson-haired guy only gave a flirty grin with raised brows. “this happens everytime.“

the door swung open with the professor rushing in. the students swifted heads, it wasn’t the first time he ever was late. he was young and good-looking, and it was hard to believe he still a bachelor. he gestured someone at the door, then the held-in giggles and mumbles were soon replaced with whispers of awe, as you walked in carefully with a tower of binder folders halfly covering your view.

clearly the guys around him have been secretly admiring; some had the confidence of taking selfies even if you were far, while others took a picture with their eyes so you were marked in their memories. ladies flocked towards the flustered professor like little chicks and surrounded him.

and that’s when the comments started coming in.

“park seojoon is so hot.” “hey remember to use ‘professor’.” “i guess genes runs in the family.” “his sister is ethereal too.” “i see her weekly and y/n’s a goddess.” “y/n! are you coming to the party tonight?”

jaehyun knew who you were through social media and common friends. and he included himself part of the people who admire you. he also remembered because he bumped into you during orientation. he wouldn’t usually care about passerby’s and strangers and although that was a brief moment and short eye contact, something about you was hard to not forget. you had people and friends under a charming spell he couldn’t describe, and that was in a good way.

you tucked a strand behind your ear and became shy afterwards as they whistled and cheered towards your gesture, making you heat up a thousand degrees higher. you should be used to this but every time it happens, you were just as flustered as your brother.

jaehyun’s legs got up on its own and was surprised at himself for making his way to help you. he picked up the fallen binder files and scattered papers while the whiskers by your eyes creased up in shyness.

he hitched a breath realising that the clumsy you was adorable too.

“thank you.” a smile then appearing at the corners of your lips caused jaehyun to freeze for a while. yuta wouldn’t miss anyone’s reaction. he slid his chair close to jaehyun’s as the he came back, nudging his chair for him to give into your beauty.

“i know a person with heart eyes when i see one. now you understand why we’re whipped for y/n. isn’t she a babe- agh.” he held the back of his head from the smack.

“don’t call me that, nakamoto.” you hissed sharply with how confident and careless he could get, especially with people you weren’t familiar with. you looked at the guy in a black sweater and let out an embarrassed sigh. “i’m sorry about my annoying best friend. yuta tends to be chatty when he feels lonely.” you winked at him.

it was jaehyun’s turn to flash short chuckle, its faint sounds perked not only your ears, but yuta’s as well. “not a problem. i know a lonely person when i see one.” jaehyun emphasised through his gaze.

“i’m not lonely! i have y/n and my men!” he whined and turned towards you. “see what you did y/n?”

“it’s good to finally see you, jeong jaehyun.” you ignored yuta and brought out a hand for a greeting.

you pursed your lips to stifle a laugh, jaehyun’s ears quickly turned from pink to red. he gulped loudly and took your hand in his, eyebrows lifting at how you knew his name.

lost for words and you both locked eyes where he forgot to let your hands go. “we take the same course together? i know your name because you’re the only one missing from the class-” you said, shaking his hands to subtly let him know it had been a minute since your hands felt his vainey flesh.

“okay young lad that’s enough time holding my sister.” seojoon separated your hands and jaehyun snapped out of his admiration, inhaling quite stressfully with how stupid he looked. “get to your class y/n.”

“alright, i’ll see you at tea hour.” you waved at the boys.

“as long as you’re treating i’ll go.” yuta hummed in a monotonous voice, fixing his laces that went untied.

“i’m not talking to you dimwit.” you flicked his forehead, leading to your satisfaction of the nut-like sound from it. “jaehyun, because you missed yesterday’s class, prof assigned me to assist you, along with the other topics you’ve yet to cover. i’ll be expecting you at the café near campus.”

before you stepped out of the hall, yuta pulled your sweater, yanking you back. “are you going to taeyong’s party tonight? you never miss an event!”

you puckered your lips, pinching his cheeks that a cute gummy smile came out from it. “you know my rules. as long as you’re driving me home, i’ll go. see you later.”

jaehyun nodded yet was still in a daze. he realised what you said when yuta pushed him. “gross. don’t act as if we’re already close.”

“hm? was i really? i think it’s normal when you’re making a move on my best friend.” he brought out his laptop and typed his password.

i wasn’t. “whatever.”

and to say that jaehyun didn’t feel butterflies flying uncontrollably in his stomach would be an understatement. they made the intestine churn in ways he couldn’t imagine, and he himself wanted to deny that what he was feeling was just from the influence of others. but wouldn’t that mean his feelings were temporary? because if it were, he should perceive you an ordinary person.

yet here he was outside, still admiring you before he entered the café. he found it was amusing of how oblivious you were of his presence— you were too immersed into this assigned task by professor, but others found it funnier when jaehyun looked stupidly in-love and cowardly the lad looked, despite having the overall aura of a stuck-up.

as the sun’s rays brightened the city and the wind’s breeze made the trees leaves dance, only then had you raise your head to see jaehyun waving at you. ten minutes early, not bad for an actual first impression. “hey,” he greeted, making you smile with his low but gentle voice. “am i late?”

you took your bag from across and asked him to sit down. “no no. you’re just in time, it’s really nice to have an early bird around.”

his dimples deepened at the compliment. “how about the project? is it too late? you think i can still catch up?” jaehyun cleared his throat.

“that depends on your dedication. based on the record professor gets, you’ve been doing your tasks and homework quite diligently. he’s just worried about your habit of not attending his lectures might lead to procrastination when second semester starts.” you gave him a slice of cheesecake to eat. “he’s still teaching us another subject.”

“it’s quite the contrary.” he dove in for the dessert. “i don’t have the will to procrastinate at all.”

“then good.” you twisted the pen in your fingers. “let’s get started?”

for that span of two hours, how he wished it could be more. who knew you would have a lot of things in common with him? that time alone was not enough to talk about vinyl and jazz singers and pretty much everything that were overlooked by people. he brought up his favourite spots in the city and how they became a safe haven to escape the reality.

to cut the explaining short, his shell slowly started to open, bits and new things were showing. if you were surprised he was a good person, jaehyun himself couldn’t believe he was able to converse with people normally. being the awkward and shy type, doing this almost seemed impossible.

was it your magic that caused him to do so?

you learnt that jaehyun was rather special and by special it meant he had gifts that you believed were way beyond human limits. he never studied in a library, rewatched lectures or written his notes. and the professor mentioned how jaehyun received good grades in most of the things he submitted.

to be very honest, you were a little jealous. from how he was sitting in front of you, he didn’t seem to be interested but was definitely listening. and you sort of gave up in continuing anyway. “i don’t understand why i’m told i need to guide you when you’ve already caught up with everything.” you let out a soft chuckle that seemed more of a question.

“i was waiting for you to stop..” jaehyun said quite blatantly and stretched his arms and you were hurt because if he didn’t want to, he could’ve said so. heck, even more so, he shouldn’t have come here and wasted time-

“..because it looked like you were forced to do this by prof.” his smile then faded seeing you mirror the same. “are you alright? you’re a little pale..”

your eyes widened. “oh uh, sorry, i assumed-” you sputtered and probably died inside with what he said. you cursed in your mind. dammit y/n.

jaehyun raised his brows, making you more flustered and panicky. you sighed and waved your ‘its-nothing’ hand. “assumed that i’m brusque and a stuck-up?”

he pierced his eyes at you and you weren’t going to lie, he scared you a bit. but that fear immediately disappeared when a gentle giggle and adorable dimples replaced it. “i get that a lot, but don’t worry. i’m different from what people think. they think i’m not friendly, a-and a loner too.”

“you’re not.” he heard you counter him, slightly slamming the fork down. “if you were, you wouldn’t be here with me. or even bothered to come.”

his heart became warm through your words, that act of kindness torn down his walls of inferiority and his perception towards people changed. “thanks.” he checked the time on his watch and twisted his wrist to show to you. “don’t you have a party to attend to?”

“lee taeyong’s?” you stood up to leave the café. “i feel like skipping it for tonight. i’m not in the mood for parties somehow.”

“because i’m a better company for you?” jaehyun teased and boy was he proud with his remark, you didn’t even deny it. “you don’t have to go if you really don’t want to. it’s better to have time for yourself sometimes.”

“you’re saying from experience?” you asked, putting pressure on your words about his claim of being alone.

“it’s more of an advice for you.” he winked.

you thought he was quite observant even though he barely socialised with others. he noticed the light in your eyes sparkling, in which he felt his chest squeeze. you twirled in your toes as you hugged your laptop. “say.. are you up for a movie marathon?”

—

including now, it’d be the fourth time you both have rewind the specific scene just for that certain song jaehyun kept singing nonstop. and although you loved his voice, having the song on replay would be a little too much and the purpose of the marathon might go in vain. it seemed jaehyun was way into it, so interrupting him would be mean of you so you sang along.

“the nostalgia still hits me ‘til this day.” jaehyun tossed a bag of chips from your kitchen island to you.

jaehyun kept saying it may sound stupid and corny coming from him, but as a child he liked the whole high school musical series; and he pretty much became one when breaking free started to play.

because you both couldn’t decide where to watch the beloved movies by everyone, the marathon ended up being at your apartment. it was subtle, yet quite obvious to you he didn’t want it to be held in his place. you thanked your psychology course for giving lessons to notice even the little things in behaviour.

“how many times do i have to keep telling you it’s okay to like it? not like anyone would tease you for it.” you giggled as you opened the bag and popped a couple of chips into your mouth.

“yeah sure, but i know you would.” he squinted his eyes for you to admit that that was your plan eventually.

“have i?” you singsonged, sipping on the large cola cup.

he pointed at the hairbrush you held and suddenly you bursted out in laughter since jaehyun was obviously— maybe a little— offended with how you mimicked him singing earlier. “okay you caught me.”

jaehyun felt his entire body heating up. still in denial about actually being into you, he took a challenge upon himself and scooted next to you. his arms slightly brushed and touched against yours. “you in for hsm 2?”

“well we are having a marathon, might as well go for camp rock later.” you shrugged and eyed him with a confirming gaze.

“uh-huh.. but i’m still a fan of the trilogy.” jaehyun stole the chips in your hands.

“now aren’t you cheeky.” you gasped at his playful behaviour, and you didn’t dislike it. perhaps you prefer this naught over yuta’s as it didn’t get into your nerves or have the urge to hit him because of the hyperness.

he sat deeper into the beanbag. “i’m comfortable in here. your house feels too homey.”

“so is it my fault that you’re in your comfort zone?” you stated, taking the bag of chips back into your arms.

“yes.” he protested with frequent waves of his palms. “you’re too kind and i might come here to visit often.”

“suit yourself.”

since he arrived here it had him wondering, why did he decide to show up today at campus when there was actually a pure human being like you? he just needed a person— just one— to knock onto his heart. yet with many people in his life trying to do the same thing, none held the correct key. and somehow,

it had to be you.

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you’ve lost count of the number of times jaehyun has been hanging at your crib since then. it became a normal routine but never have you been to his place. it was always yours and you didn’t mind that. though he did promise, you respected his decision.

you found out he could be little dorky and corny but that was the unique trait about him. like friends at kindergarten, you both were still at a get-to-know-each-other stage. so that day, he created a schedule where he would hang out with you on wednesdays and fridays, claiming that he didn’t want to be seen by others, e.g. mr. nobody with ms. golden girl.

however, since then, people close to you have been looking at you rather differently. it wasn’t because they sometimes see jaehyun following you around, they sensed a different aura from you. you could feel their piercing stares from all directions, as if you were the centerpiece of a watch. there was something a little different than usual.

and you tried to ignore this ominous feeling for now.

yuta shook his legs vigorously, in which was an unsightly act to see for someone on the soccer team. you could see him from afar with his hands by his lips, biting it as he waited for your arrival at the university’s sports ground. jaehyun jogged towards you with his bag slung diagonally across his torso. he poked your neck and as a person with severe tickle spots, that caught you off guard into a fight-me position to the doer.

“chill, it’s just me.” jaehyun had both of his hands up, whiskers appearing just by the sides of his nose.

“jaehyun!” you relaxed your limbs. “got a better way of greeting? i don’t like being surprised.” you pulled the hem of his sleeve, missing how he pursed his lips in glee when you both instantly became close, like it was overnight.

he let you grab him as you both walked towards where yuta was standing by the bleachers. “i’m sorry?” he giggled loud enough only for you to hear. “i thought i’d get a priceless reaction from you.”

you rolled your eyes that it almost hurt doing so. “be glad i have enough patience for you.”

“and i didn’t have enough patience last night!” yuta joined the conversation seeing you and jaehyun before him. “where have you been? you said you were coming to my place yesterda- why is he here?” he looked at him then at you. “with you? again?”

“ever thought that i want to have my own ‘me’ time for once?” you took off your cardigan and placed it on the bleachers. you could feel jaehyun chuckling softly when you made reference to his remark.

and boy was he proud. “you’re emphasising on that quite often nowadays.” he helped you carry your bag as you to settled down.

“that’s because i never realised how true it actually is until i say it out loud, since being in everyone’s eyes does pressure me.” you balled your fists to nudge him lightly on the arm, and for him to dramatically receive the attack did put yuta in an awkward position.

“uh hello? i’m still here!” in front of you and jaehyun, yuta snapped his fingers several times to divert attention. “what’s going on with you two? how are you both suddenly so close when you’ve just met for the first time two weeks ago?”

jaehyun swifted his head towards you, and the telepathic exchange of words between you and him had yuta clicking his tongue in disbelief. “you were right, he will react.” jaehyun’s voice prolonged while munching on a corn dog.

“told you so.” you flicked your hair and turned to yuta as you continued talking. “bestie, we’ve been seeing each other since then.”

what the hell? the way yuta’s face turn sour at your smile towards jaehyun, he could almost faint right then and there since he swore he saw mr. dimples smile subtly at you too. “and with just that i’ve been replaced-”

“no i would never replace my best friend.” you held his palms hoping he would calm down from his high emotions, but he immediately pulled his hand away from you, much to your dismay. “hey, i’m here to make amends-”

“yeah?” he clicked on a pen and wrote something on a tissue, soon grabbing your bag from the seat and fished out your wallet. “then you’re treating me my meals for a month. i have another order right now.”

now it was your turn whose face became sour. “a month?! i can’t do that- hey!”

yuta tossed your credit card up in the air and upon seeing his eyes darken— though that was all in your head—you gave in and sighed heavily. you stomped your way to the caféteria while yuta comfortably put one leg on the benches with a satisfied grin. “man she’s easy to tease.”

“is that so? then i know now who she gets it from.” jaehyun said through his chews on his food, making yuta’s ears perk up at the response.

the atmosphere lingering between the two of them invited dark clouds. both could sense the change in their moods, and they both weren’t liking it.

yuta spun and played the ball on his hands then forearms, later let out a scoff when jaehyun raised his brows. he didn’t like the vibe jaehyun was giving and so did the latter. “i do it for fun. it’s natural between us.” yuta said.

“hm? she told me she doesn’t like it when you do.” he saw you on your tiptoes as you struggled to tell the order to the person at the high-levelled counter. but another scoff came out from yuta. “you got a proble-?”

“yeah kinda.”

“i don’t think so. i can tell it really bothers you when y/n hangs out with me.” jaehyun sat up straight at yuta’s comment about him.

“i should be. because i’m her best friend and who knows what type of person you are.” he did a few tricks with his legs. “but if you really want to know then your attitude is what i have problems with.”

“i remember telling you it wouldn’t be good for you when accuse me wrongly.”

he let out a monotonous and rather mocking laugh, taking jaehyun aback but he anticipated this kind of response from him. “and what? you’ll go berserk like you did years ago? as a high school freshman? beating the innocent up or whoever comes your way?”

“look i don’t know where the hell that came from but it’s not what you or everyone else thinks.” jaehyun aggressively crumpled the hotdog wrapper in his palms.

“c’mon you don’t have to hold it all in,” yuta set his ball aside and rested his hands on his waist. jaehyun was getting uncomfortable the more he listened to him. “unleash that side-”

jaehyun rolled his tongue, nodding his head to test him. “alright, i guess i don’t have to when i have feelings for y/n. thanks for the advice.”

what the..? yuta stared at him when there wasn’t a change in his expression. jerk- “now you’re talking. you wanna fight? let’s do that-”

“tsk yuta! the bill’s too expensive!” you whined and gently put down the tray.

while yuta clicked his tongue at your sudden entry and with how quickly you came back, for a moment jaehyun wanted to hug you for being his saviour. he was so close to lose his temper towards your best friend. the relief seen in his tensed shoulders, but you interpreted it otherwise. “are you okay?” you asked while you sat down beside him.

he hummed, folding his arms and looking at the distance, clearly avoiding eye contact with yuta. “mhm, i just realised the deadline is coming up in three days.” he excused.

you managed to utter out a giggle as you finally ate, finding out how jaehyun’s ears always turned red when given attention to. “you’re stressed about it?”

“aren’t you?” jaehyun drank the remains of his soda.

“not really since i finished mine. but, if you’re worried about your progress, i can help you.” you swirled the fork in the air like a wand. jaehyun smiled to himself when yuta took his ball to throw a fit.

“i’m not worried about the project. but there’s an annoying bug i’m trying to hit so help me.” jaehyun’s dimples appeared deeply again and as the darkening ombré sunset shoned his side profile, there you witnessed how pure he actually was— and you missed out on yuta’s frown towards jaehyun.

you gulped and almost choked on your own saliva, eyes still locked in jaehyun’s. his hair caught in the wind, making it look fluffy and his entire demeanour softer than you usually see him. you hitched a breath since jaehyun seemed like he had no plans to avert his gaze too. both of you were definely mesmerised and hypnotised, and for jaehyun it was just like that time. he remembered the colour palette of your makeup while you recalled the perfume he wore.

in the recent marathons with him you’ve never been this close, physically speaking. so this close-up really debunked the impression you heard from people, especially from yuta.

however, as you were oblivious with the pressure behind jaehyun’s words and even smiled back at him, yuta flicked your temple. he was indeed a worry wart and sometimes he would like to flick you just this once for being too much of a social butterfly. he knew it was in your nature to be kind and always on the look out for others. he’s fine when you were with anyone except with this guy you befriended. not him.

he dodged your flying limbs in attempts to hit him. “oi, you’re not going to ask how i am? if i’m worried?”

the pain from the flick remained on your temple. “no? you look fine to me-” you stared at your phone. the message reminding you of the singles elite party a month from today at 8pm. “a party?”

“yeah if you attended the previous party you’d know that there’ll be another one after taeyong’s.” yuta took off his shoes in change for his casual.

“hm. i’m don’t feel like going.” you jumped off the bleachers to dust off your pants. “probably gonna be boring.”

“i’m the one who’s holding it this time!” yuta put you under a headlock in his arms. “you’re ditching your best friend?!”

you giggled and ticked his sides and followed it with a playful hug. “just kidding. i heard from momo! i’ll be there.” you brushed your hair up into a messy bun while spotting jaehyun starting to feel out of place. “oh! do you wanna come to the party, jae?”

yuta mentally facepalmed and it was given he didn’t like what you did. but your eyes were quick to see his reaction and you slapped his chest. he glared at you while his hands caressed it. why did you have to invite him? it was the whole purpose why he decided to hold a party; maybe you’d finally appreciate his hardwork, or perhaps, notice him as someone more and as not a best friend who only worries and teases you.

jaehyun nodded in response, no words needed. a smile crept your lips as if you were given chocolates on valentine’s. “cool.” you pulled him on the wrist after hearing the coach calling yuta, followed with a loud whistle. “ah yuta, we‘ll get going! see you.”

“mm yeah..” yuta hummed, seeing you both vanish in the distance. “see you..”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

your sulking self laid sideways by jaehyun’s lap, head rested on a pillow. it’s been too long since yuta avoided you, purposely ditched your hangouts, seenzoned your messages and ignored your calls. as if these weren’t obvious enough for you to know something was up. there definitely was but you couldn’t put a finger to it. so you forced jaehyun to let you stay at his place, being it your apartment was currently invaded by your brother’s friends from abroad.

but honestly it was also because you discovered jaehyun’s unit was blocks away from yours. fate was gladly on your side.

“y/n, you know i can’t work properly when you’re like this.” jaehyun sighed while he adjusted his sitting posture and lifting his laptop.

you slightly and lazily your body turned upright, seeing his dimples beginning to show themselves. “let me be.” you complained.

jaehyun put down his laptop. “i can’t. you’re in my way of cramming hours. plus, how long have you been coming here? it’s getting too frequent..” he paused when your eyes were no longer on him— rather they were on your phone, staring at the last conversation from yuta.

he couldn’t bring himself to say that he was reason why yuta acting the way he was to you. and for all honesty he would keep this matter to himself. “did i do something wrong?” you asked.

“of course not. he’s probably in his emo phase. guys have them a lot more than you think.” jaehyun typed on the keyboard for the remaining parts of the essay. “but he’ll get out of it eventually.”

“fine i’ll trust on that.” you sat up and scooted over to see his progress. you submitted your assignment hours ago. looking at jaehyun, it seemed he was struggling at some parts. were you unconsciously pressuring him? the beads of sweat began to roll down his temples and that made you giggle if it was the case. uh-huh. he was really feeling that way.

he gulped so loudly that it came out as a weird noise. he hoped you didn’t hear that. but the way you pursed your lips to hold the laughter in only had him discontinuing his report. “d-don’t do that.”

“do what?” you snicker.

jaehyun rolled his eyes and poked your forehead. “you’re too distracting.”

oh how the tables have turned. that comment flipped your head upside down, your heart in a frenzy and stomach churning. it wasn’t “so”, but “too”— that only meant he wasn’t concentrating on his work for a while.

even so, you waited for him to finish despite questionable feelings you’ve been feeling. his coffee cup already did seconds and thirds. and suddenly you remembered the happy hour the local café was promoting and there was a few minutes left until it ends for the day. you had to bring him there.

but you decided that because you wanted to be out of that suffocating air jaehyun caused.

—

the more you walked faster, the more jaehyun’s wrist reddened and hurt. but he let you be as he liked how you were comfortable with someone like him. your hair flowed with the wind, the remains of your shampoo left a sweet scent. was it lavender? and the wind blew stronger, making the scent clearer to the nose. his heart skipped beats, because it was indeed lavender. he swore in his head. scrap aside the frequent marathons and meet-ups. lavender’s all the more reason why fell for you quickly than ever.

and when the local café closed early for the day, you almost lost sight of the pedestrian signs. jaehyun pulled you in as the light emitted red. though you had your emotions get the best of you, you realised how childish you were for something so minor. you laughed in awkwardness, he did too. “i didn’t want anyone to see this side-”

warmth. that was all you thought of right there. you were in his embrace.

“..of me.” you soon mumbled in his chest, realising later of the action he just did. “jaehyun-”

“it’s okay. i don’t too.” his hand gently caressed the back of your head, treating it with care as if he held a newborn baby. “so can i keep you?”

that warmth became hotter, almost boiling that you weren’t able to breathe properly. “i’m sorry.” he said, that must’ve surprised you.” jaehyun chuckled.

surprised? of course you were. how was it natural for him to do skinship? and that smoothly? you both weren’t at that stage yet, let alone have a relationship with mutual feelings. even yuta couldn’t hug you because of how conscious you felt.

but then again, you looked up. you saw his ears. it was red, the usual reaction whenever you were with him. was it normal though? you were never aware of it up until now.

because it was so clear now.

“i’ll see you tomorrow? i have to help my mom with some things.” you lied as you scratched your neck.

jaehyun nodded and pulled away. “alright, go on ahead.”

you poked his dimples because he has been staring at you like he had questions to ask. “what is it?”

maybe he didn’t notice or maybe he did, but he was leaning closer, his head tilting to the side and eyes staring into your soul. you knew what he was about to do, you feel like letting him do so but at the same time you weren’t sure of your feelings.  

just a little more and you could’ve locked lips but..

your phone vibrated.

in panic you looked at your device and eyes widened that brought jaehyun aback.

“ah yuta!” you brought your phone so close to your face, not believing your best friend’s announcement on social media, in which he then followed up with a text message.

the light in your eyes was something jaehyun liked seeing, but didn’t so as well.

“oh! he said the concept for the elites’ party is live wardrobe. all singles will go through a ballot draw. it’s for the clothes to wear for the night..” you locked your phone. “tsk i wanted to wear my favourite dress.”

“i think you’ll look great in whatever gown is chosen for you.” jaehyun pat your head while you were immersed in your phone. “now go. it’s getting late.”

“i’ll expect the same for you.” you replied.

he laughed and that didn’t want to make you leave just yet. “nah don’t. i’m just ordinary in a suit.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

funny how he was so damn wrong.

fate let him draw red, and confidently chose a suit once it was his turn to change. it was as if he knew this attire would go well with him. a suede texture with a black outline on its collar accentuated his brushed up light brown hair, while his black under-shirt contrasted with his porcelain skin. gladly it wasn’t halloween, or else you would’ve mistaken him for a vampire.

he had you feeling all sorts of things, and you didn’t know why when you were nothing more than friends.

an hour ago he was in his usual casual wear. now he was surrounded with ladies who already seemed like they were friends with him for decades. you could see jaehyun was uncomfortable but he kept his cool with folded arms as he leaned against a column. the comments from them irritated you, because at one point they were badmouthing him— and the second he showed up they flooded him with compliments of his good looks and how they named him the “model elite”.

you swirled the wine glass in your hand, the other arm hugged your waist. you rolled your eyes at the falseness these people have towards him. “can’t believe it.” your fingers curled as irritation began to cover your sight. “look at them trying to make a move on him. erlgh too close. they weren’t like that before.”

sicheng rolled his tongue, hands in pockets and walked to be in front of you. “really? you weren’t like that before too.” he pointed out.

“i agree. recently you’re stuck like glue whenever you’re with him.” yuta gestured.

“am so not?” you gasped while your eyes trailed to jaehyun, who was still had patience for the ladies surrounding him. “i just like how he’s a good friend.”

“doubt it.” sicheng poked your cheek. “you wouldn’t feel like this when you have feeli-”

not this again. “i’m grabbing a drink.” yuta suddenly cut the conversation.

“get me one too!” the younger one yelled and after he was satisfied with the gesture, he winced as you pinched his sides from the remark he said earlier. “ow! y/n! it’s true though! i know what i’m seeing!”

truthfully, nothing about sicheng’s words or actions bothered you. but if there was anything that did, it was your own heart. as of tonight, you began to question your feelings towards jaehyun. when did it start? how was it possible to like someone so quickly? “i’m telling you i don’t.” your eyes trailed to him, not realising the rush of heat creeping your cheeks.

jaehyun was approached by yuta, who was giving him a glass of beer. the ladies fled after stealing pictures of the guy and he took the drink in his hands. then they headed towards the garden of the mansion. wonder what he’s here for?

“nice party you have here. concept’s cool.” jaehyun started to break the lingering silence because he knew how awkward this was going to be with your best friend.

“yeah, never knew you’d end up in red. it’s y/n’s favourite colour.” yuta’s voice lowered. there was an impact jaehyun could describe but assuming that would be too rude of him.

“really? i didn’t know.” he hummed. aren’t you a little too happy, jaehyun told himself. he shook it off, for he doesn’t expect him and you to go any further than this.

“now you do. so can you back up for a while? take a week off or something from y/n.” yuta raised his brows.

this was the same feeling from before. he knew this feeling because he felt the exact same way. he wanted to be selfish for once. not like he hated yuta, it was just.. he always had to appear whenever he didn’t want him to. then he would mess his mood. he interrupted his joy of admiring you. jaehyun licked his lips to dampen them. “i’m sorry, who are you to tell me what to do?”

yuta grinned and leaned against the column as he mirrored jaehyun. “don’t you get it?” he asked, his tone rising. “i love y/n. you entering the picture just ruins everything.”

my hunch’s correct. he does love y/n. “if you love her you wouldn’t ignore her.”

“it’s because you’re with her! and she does the same to me! it’s like she’s found someone else-”

“you’re being dramatic.” jaehyun pushed himself off the column and turned to him. “y/n’s sad and moping around because you treated her like she’s all alone. you have no idea how much she waited for you to contact her.”

“what do you know, smartass? you’re just another guy trying to fit in when you know you couldn’t. no matter how much you tried, everyone’s afraid of you. and now you’re telling me you have feelings for y/n? please.” his lips jutted with sounds of disbelief while his body posture challenged jaehyun. “y/n’s kind to everyone she meets. it’s who she is. but to think you have hope to be with someone like her? if you ask me, all i see is a greatest mismatch.”

jaehyun usually didn’t give a damn of the comments about him. he couldn’t care less of any of those. in fact he’d hear them through one ear and out they went. but when he said anything, it irked him.

you see, that was the thing— right now, he actually listened.

he turned a blind eye on yuta’s words and let it off for the night. he was given a drink and maybe the alcohol didn’t work its way on him than it did to guy. in the end, yuta was probably spilling tea even if he didn’t intend to.

“what i feel for y/n has nothing to do with you. just like people can’t control the tides,” jaehyun lightly knocked onto yuta’s chest. “i can’t control mine.”

the footsteps echoed in yuta’s ears, he could hear them despite the noisy hall. “rghhh!” he grabbed hold of his glass and threw it towards jaehyun.

sounds of shattering glass met the ground, as well as catching everyone’s attention. then there was silence. jaehyun began to lose his patience as he turned around. his smirk challenged him. ouch. this was the fight yuta was looking for, seeing jaehyun’s heavy breaths only made him stand on his toes.

jaehyun punched him in the jaw though he knew it wasn’t worth his time. but he wanted to give him a taste of stepping beyond boundaries. yuta punched him back too. he made sure the star of the night was the other— shone the brightest and reveal his true nature. he didn’t count the number of hits he received, as long as jaehyun stayed that way.

“i told you it wouldn’t be good if you provoked me!” jaehyun growled. “you’re asking for show? i’ll give you one!”

“huh..” yuta wiped his bleeding lip. “you sure about that, beast?”

jaehyun held himself for the next punch, feeling all of the pairs of eyes on him. yours included. that was what he feared. “aw. what impression does she have on you now?” yuta’s cooing words caused jaehyun’s eyes to soften.

all bleeding and bruised, jaehyun’s injuries have matched with his suit. he clenched his fists as he frustratingly left the hall.

in your peripheral, your eyes trailed his direction and your legs followed him by heart, without realising yuta calling out your name several times. everything went blank, not thinking things straight because while everyone watched, no one understood. you glared at yuta before heading outside, a more disappointed sigh was the only response he got from you.

yuta was then nudged by sicheng. the latter could see the change in his expression. “what did i tell you?”

“you don’t have to tell me.” yuta dusted his pants.

“i’m still gonna.” sicheng rolled his eyes and poked the lad’s temple. “that’s what you call ‘stupidity’. if only you confessed to her before maybe things would be different between you guys.”

“i don’t want things to be different dude.”

“i’m gonna state the obvious, you probably already know this but.. you lost this battle.”

“crap..” yuta’s voice changed from a nervous chuckle to a soft sob. “i liked her first.”

you spotted jaehyun sitting atop a metal barrier just in front of the carpark— head down to mend his injuries and scratches. he sniffed from the cool night breeze before hopping off. “you’ll hurt your feet.” he pointed at the heels you had dangling in your hands.

his gaze softened when you pointed at his face, especially the black eye. “touché.” he chuckled, later feeling your cold hands against his throbbing flesh. “it’s no big deal-”

“i’m sorry about yuta’s behaviour.” you sighed. “don’t let it get into you. he’s an airhead when he’s drunk-”

“you sure? he seemed pretty sober when he said- ah.” he pursed his lips to speak any further. “nevermind.”

now that gotten you curious. “what did he say? spill it!” you whined, causing jaehyun mouth to curve a little in amusement.

jaehyun prolonged the silence and grabbed your shoes, leading you towards his car. once he unlocked it and opened the door, he bursted out in a loud, healthy laugh. “he said he was head over heels for you.”

you pushed him to the driver’s seat and slammed the door, rolling your eyes at the pun. “that was so lame!” you sat on the other side. “but i know that already if you thought i didn’t. i subtly turned him down ages ago. guess he didn’t take the message.”

“clearly.”

as you tended to his wounds, one question still had your curiosity at its peak. jaehyun was quiet through-out, so it was hard to bring the topic up for a while. until your eyes and his met.

“what did you tell him before he threw the glass at you?” you dabbed the cotton onto the beaten area. “it must’ve pissed him.”

he dropped his car keys and let out a nervous hum. “uh..” he didn’t know what else to say. right when he was finally about to tell you, you suddenly giggled.

“unless you told him you like me and that made him angry, but i doubt that happened.” your lips shrank to a circle, cursing at yourself for assuming too much. girl the guts you have was incomparable—

jaehyun’s large hand held yours while you continued to apply medication. the warmth, the heat and the building tension of skinship made you weak. “you’re right.”

your smile and breaths changed in an instant when he fixed himself on the seat. he smirked a little, finding how cute you were. it drove him crazy.

“i like you, for the longest time, since the orientation. i’m so into you that i couldn’t help myself be selfish and have you to myself— i- i don’t know what i’m saying.” he sighed, pushing himself away in embarrassment with arms above his face.

“t-thanks.” you fiddled with your fingers.

“i’m not asking for an answer. i just wanted to let you know.” he said. “gosh this is a bad timing for confession.”

“then is it a bad timing if i said i’m into you too?” you looked away and out in the distance. you could see his reaction on the window’s reflection. he was shocked, but an uncontrollable smile was forcing itself on the surface. it was written in the dimples.

“no,” his husky voice called you to look back. “you’re just about right.”

[imaslutforremusandsirius]

Mutual longing

It’s 03:43 and I missed writing James, uf i love this one

Warning: 18+

---

Oh, James is a breathtaking sight. With his dark hair and twinkling eyes, his tall toned body and charming smile. His smooth voice and irresistible accent. He is the whole package.

Lost in thought you imagined him fucking you against the wall, his big hand over your mouth to contain your moans as he pounded you aggressively-

„Hey“ Lily chirped, leaning over the table to give you a friendly hug, „Sorry I‘m late, head girl shit.“

You hugged her back, acting as if you didn‘t just imagine getting absolutely railed by the fellow head boy.

„Don‘t worry ‘bout it. Haven‘t been long anyway.“

Lily rolled her eyes and gave you a teasing smile.

„Knowing you, you probably showed up fifteen minutes early to be polite. You can give me shit you know, I deserve it.“

You laughed lightly before you furrowed your brows dramatically and held up a finger much like Professor McGonagall when she lectured the marauders again.

„Lily Evans you little shit. Hopefully you will have a long dreadful nightmare for the shit you put me through!“

Lily smirked at you and nodded, impressed with your choice of words.

„That would be James trying to hug me again, so no thank you.“ She clapped her hands. „Right, lets start.“

You couldn‘t help but think of just how fucking hot it would be to be in James‘ strong arm. Breathless moans and impatient hands tugging down your skirt. His hands all over your body, slowly moving down towards your-

Fuck.

---

Sometime during your meetup Remus appeared and sat down with you. Then came Peter. With him Sirius and of course James.

„I swear Black if you don‘t shut the fuck up“ Lily said forcefully, very close to yelling, „I‘m gonna beat your stupid face with this book!“

Sirius’ wand fell from between his clenched jaw, he was trying to impersonate a growling dog, and he rolled his eyes.

„Calm down, Evans. Besides, Remus would totally not appreciate that, considering my face is number one in his list of“, he cleared his throat theatrically, „Reasons why Sirius Black is the most enchanting being I‘ve ever fucked.“

Remus, already used to Sirius‘ crude remarks, just continued to read his book, his index finger tracing shapes on Sirius‘ palm absentmindedly.

„I agree“ Remus mumbled, missing the way Sirius blushed and melted with his next words, „Sirius is enchanting.“

Sirius, content with the attention he got, leaned his head against his boyfriends shoulder and finally shut his mouth. Lily smiled gratefully at Remus, who send her a wink, the corner of his lips pulling up slightly to show that he had said it on purpose. Not that they needed to know just how accurate Sirius had been with the list.

You threw a glance at James and saw him engrossed with his potions textbook, lips moving silently as he read through the pages. Taking the time to admire him from up close, you watched how his brows would furrow and ease up whenever he worked out a problem, how he would bite his lip in concentration or scratch his nose and push up his glasses when they slipped down his nose.

Truly handsome. Sex on legs.

Fuck why can‘t he just touch you already.

For someone who flirts on the daily he sure was oblivious to girls who were actually interested in him. And not gay, unlike Lily, who literally had a pin on her bag with the lesbian flag on it.

Might get a pin with “Fuck me James“ printed on it. Maybe then he‘ll know, you thought bitterly.

You had already planned a whole color scheme for the pins when a foot nudged your shin under the table and forced you out of your head.

„Need help“ James whispered and slid his worksheet over to you, „Please?“

Oh hell yes. No need to beg, Potter.

„Sure“ You said, congratulating yourself for sounding confident, „Give me a min.“

Reading through the question your took a moment to think about the answer, scribbling it down yourself instead of telling him. You weren‘t sure how long you could gaze into his eyes and act like you didn‘t have wet dreams about him.

Satisfied you looked back up and noticed him already looking at you, or more specifically your mouth.

A devilish idea crossed your mind. Oh, yes.

Acting as if you were still thinking, you bit your lip softly, tracing your bottom lip with your tongue to leave it glistening pink. James swallowed, hand loosening his tie and he lowered his head with blushing cheeks.

„Here“ You smiled, gently sliding the paper back to him and shivered a little when your fingertips touched.

His fingers had to business being so close to the top of the sheet, considering he was sitting across from you and could have just grabbed the bottom part. Hope flared in your chest when you saw him just as taken aback by the touch and you basked in the radiant grin he shot you from under his mop of hair.

Your stomach swarmed with butterflies and you let out a small breath, thighs clenching.

Oh James.

„I should get going“ You said after a while, not in the mood to study anymore.

James‘ head whipped up and he got up as well, packing his bag in time with you. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you refrained from making your excitement too obvious.

„Yeah me too, I‘m tired. Goodnight.“ James rushed and gently pulled you along by the strap of your bag.

The others just grumbled in response, Sirius fast asleep and drooling while Remus waved his hand dismissively. Lily muttered a quick, „I‘ll join in a few minutes“, which actually translates to hours.

Since the others aren‘t here I could have some alone time with James.

Oh shit, there goes your brain. It was really creative when it came to imagening James‘ moans, considering you never heard them before. Or his dick. Fuck.

You silently made your way upstairs and sadly it was an awkward one. Frankly you blamed James for being so hot that you literally had no clue what to say, not knowing that he thought the exact same thing. Sure he is all for, „Everyone can wear what they bloody want“ and he had proven that point by wearing skirts multiple times, but fuck-

You in that skirt has to be criminal by some kind of law right? Has to be a sin in some kind of religion? And don‘t get him started on your lips-

James shook his head to get rid of the mental images and focused on his breathing. Praying that you wouldn’t see his boner.

Somehow you had made it to the empty common room and turned to each other at the same time to say goodnight. Both of you had not considered the distance between your faces, which proved to be extremely short with your noses bumping painfully.

„I‘m so-“

Your words died down when James kissed you hard, his big hands - oh those big, callous hands you‘ve been dreaming about for weeks finally touching your cheeks to pull you impossibly close.

Stunned by his sudden desire to kiss you, you pulled your head away to look into his face and what you saw made you smash your lips on his and his back against the wall.

His quiet, absolutely submissive noises shot straight into your blood and you press your hips against his to hear more of it. His arms were wrapped around your neck, hands buried in your hair as he opened your legs with his knee to press his thigh between your legs.

The rough fabric of his pants made you shudder and your hands slid down his upper body until you got to his cock. James head sank against the wall with a dirty moan as you put your hand in his pants to touch him. Shit, his skin was so soft and hot and he already has precum on the tip.

James lips met yours sloppily as he pushed you backwards onto the couch and sank down between you legs on the ground, moving your feet to rest on the cushion. He clearly didn‘t have any more patience in him and made quick work of pushing your panties aside to rub his fingers against your soaking entrance.

„Come on, James“ You moaned, bucking against him when he finally pushed two fingers inside.

„Mmm look at you“ James groaned out, leaving kisses along your inner thighs and let out wanton sound when your cunt clenched around him.

You didn‘t care about anything but his fingers fucking you at this point, whining when the cool metal of his ring pressed against your clit. You jerked at the hot sensation of his tongue curling around your clit, greedily sucking your pussy lips into his mouth.

„Oh James!“ You whimpered breathlessly, pulling his face so close that his nose was smushed against your lower belly, feeling the vibrations of every moan he let out shoot directly to your cunt.

Pulling him up by his hair you kissed him again, panting into his open mouth when he kept pistoning his fingers into your cunt.

„Please let me fuck you“ James begged needily, brows pinched in longing to feel you around his throbbing cock, „Please I can‘t wait anymore!“

Instead of answering, you pushed his pants down with your heels and trapped him between your legs. James hissed in relief when he felt some kind of friction on his cock and eased himself inside.

„Oh“ James let out a broken whimper, head thrown back in sheer bliss, „Feel so good.“

You couldn’t answer, way to enamored with the way he stretched you open so deliciously, watching his cock push into your body. Oh fuck, the sight was so dirty and crass and yet you couldn‘t take your eyes off him.

„James“ You gasped with difficulty, „James please ‘m‘gonna cum!“

James bend your legs so they were over his shoulders and pounded you harshly, face screwed up in ecstasy with the way you cried out his name. Your moans cut off only to be replaced by sobs when the tip of his cock hit your g-spot over and over again.

„Yes yes yes“ James chanted, pressing his forehead on yours to stare at your dazed expression, „tell me how you feel!“

Your shook your head quickly, signaling him that you couldn‘t possibly form a coherent sentence, but his persisted.

„Tell me how you feel!“ James hissed, thumb suddenly on your clit and you broke.

„Good good so fucking good“ You cried, latching on his body to encourage him to fuck you harder.

„Prove it“ James moaned brokenly, „Cum for me!“

His other hand wrapped around your delicate throat and squeezed firmly, making you tip over the edge and cry out your release. James‘ orgasm made him tremble so violently that he couldn‘t hold himself up anymore, collapsing on your chest with a deep throaty whimper as he filled your cunt with his hot cum.

„Fuck yes“ James ground out, hips still pushing in and out of you, like he couldn’t bear the thought of stopping. He raised his head to watch you, his pupils still dilated, pink lips quivering with aftershocks.

James looked absolutely wrecked and satisfied. He stared at you as if staring at a goddess, nuzzling close to hear your heartbeat.

„You okay?“ James asked quietly and tucked himself back in to help you clean up.

„Yeah, perfect.“ You grinned, letting him help you up and pull you towards his dorm.

He gave you a playful smile, but you saw the slight nervousness in his eyes.

„Stay?“

God, yes. Finally. Fuck those pins, who needs them.

„Yes.“

[anemo-writes]

hello travelers! again, thank you for putting up with my inactivity, it’s been hard to write lately haha. anyways, i thought this would be something fun to post and for everyone to enjoy, whether you celebrate Valentine’s Day or not :) (note: this will probably be more fanon than canon so please bear with me, i’ll make it as canon as it can be :’) i also kept this pretty short, so hopefully that’s okay too,, and sorry for this being late haha—i wrote this very late at night so don’t mind any typos you find please)

much love,

~ anemo-chan <3

(The Playable) Genshin Impact Characters on Valentine’s Day (Romantically)

super romantic; gifts you a bouquet of flowers and takes you out to eat at a fancy restaurant/cooks for you.

Diluc

He is nervous. He’s never paid close attention to the countless amount of people who have lined outside the tavern to ask him to be their Valentine, only to be rejected. There was absolutely no way that he would turn to Kaeya for advice, so unfortunately this was something he would have to figure out for himself. He figures that it wouldn’t hurt to go traditional, so that’s what he does; he buys a large bouquet of roses (which he had to get from Donna, seeing that at the hours that he ended work were very late and Flora’s shop was not open at the time—yeah, that was not fun) and presents himself outside your doorway, to which he invites you to join him for a late dinner—which he makes!

Lisa

She leaves a letter on top of your nightstand, paired along with a singular rose. The letter states for you to meet her outside of Good Hunter, where you find her sitting at a table with a candle dimly-lighting up the surroundings. She greets you with a warm smile, gesturing for you to sit down—the two of you enjoy a candle-lit dinner as well as bolognese she specially requested for Sara to make for the two of you to enjoy together why does this remind me so much of Lady and the Tramp,,

Tartaglia

Oh boy. It’s always a fun time spending a holiday with him, seeing that it could go two ways; one, he would be too busy to celebrate it with you on the day of, and he would take you out the day after, or two—have a store’s entire line of merchandise presented to you outside your doorstep, in which a very, very smiley Tartaglia hidden within the pile (after all, he was the best present!) After you’re done moving all of the gifts into your house (it took up the space of your entire living room), he tells you to cover your eyes and follow him. He takes you to one of the most well-known restaurants in Liyue (which currently doesn’t have a name because it is very late here!), and insists that you order whatever you want, and however much you want.

Zhongli

Over the years, he’s witnessed many, many couples celebrate this holiday and every year he’s wished to do the same. He finds the perfect opportunity to do so when Valentine’s Day is around the corner, and boy does he plan it out for the two of you. He’s even made sure to have his wallet on him at all times—it would be extremely rude for you to have to pay if he happened to forget his wallet. He makes sure to stop by to pick up a bouquet of flowers, as well as a bottle of perfume (not in a bad way, just to clarify) from Ying’er’s shop that he recalled you liked. He makes sure to pick you up early from your work place to make sure you made it to your appointment on time; after all, being late to an appointment was similar to breaking a contract, no?

surprises you with homemade sweets.

Fischl

Oh, she is so nervous—of course, she doesn’t show this. The entire week, she spent researching recipes to create a special batch of chocolate-dipped strawberries just for you—she even sent Oz to the nearby farms to “borrow” the freshest strawberries for the treat (the farmers were too scared to confront the talking bird who “borrowed” their strawberries, so luckily they got away with it). She dips them in a purple-colored chocolate (because what other color would she use, really?) and drizzles on a dark-chocolate syrup to top it off. She’s too shy to actually give it to you herself though, so she has Oz drop it off for her.

Ganyu

Even though she’s quite busy, she’s somehow found time to whip up a special batch of chocolate just for you! She shapes them into Glaze Lilies (which she found quite hard, which is why there are so few of them) and presents them to you in a neatly-sealed box. She’s quite modest when your eyes widen and tell her it’s the best chocolate you have ever eaten, claiming that she only followed a recipe, when she really made it from scratch.

Keqing

Like Ganyu, you have no idea how she finds time to create a perfect array of chocolates, which she made herself! However, with her tightly-packed schedule, she has to drop it off at your house in advance, to which you accept happily. She tried to decorate them with designs of cartoon-versions of your faces, but they’re a bit...messy. Nonetheless, they’re tasty, and to her relief, you enjoy them.

Mona

Somehow, she’s managed to scrape up enough mora to buy you a necklace; yes, a necklace, and a real one at that—none of that fake, costume jewelry stuff! She even added a pendant shaped like star, just so you could be reminded of her whenever you fiddled with it or even glanced at it. She’s quite flustered when she gives it to you, ignoring the way you ask how she managed to save this much mora to be able to buy something like this, changing the subject on how you should never-ever take it off (because it looks great on you.)

Noelle

One word: pancakes. (Have you seen the ones she makes for her special dishes? They’re frigging amazing) As a dutiful maid should, she wakes up especially early to prepare a homemade breakfast just for you, to which she serves to you just as your wake up in bed. The fluffy stack of pancakes are decorated with fruits cut up in heart-shapes, as well the words, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N”, written neatly with chocolate syrup—it’s quite a sight to see, to be honest, and utterly delicious. Lucky you!

Xiangling

The day before, she tells you to meet her at the restaurant around noon. When you arrive, the restaurant is adorned with Valentine decorations, as well as a terrifying amount of food; she insists that she only made it for you, so you better eat up! Before she can show you the other dishes, the restaurant is suddenly filled with a strong, bitter smell—something burning. With a yelp, she runs into the kitchen, coming out a few minutes later with a tray of half-scorched cupcakes, their Gouba-shapes adorned with...a lot of burn marks. Oh well, it’s the thought that counts, doesn’t it?

buys/makes a present for you.

Albedo

Without your knowledge, Albedo has been creating a collection of artworks throughout all the time you had spent together. The pieces include portraits of you, portraits of you and him (sucrose helped with this), as well as just random sketches of the little things that remind him of you, such as the bare, snowy-white terrain where the two of you first met, as well as its flora and fauna. If you request it, he’ll even make the painting come alive (literally), and the two of you run to Sucrose’s dwelling, who is very shocked to see the pair of you running from a Frosted Lawachurl when she peered out her window to see if she could pinpoint the sounds of distant screaming.

Amber

Is there anything better than a matching set of wind gliders? Not only that—they were homemade! She spent the last couple of weeks putting together a pair of gliders for the two of you, customizing them to your tastes (which she nailed!) She quite literally drags you to the nearest hill to test them out, and the two of you end up challenging each other on who can get back to the Knights of Farvonius Headquarters the fastest—spoiler alert: she did.

Barbara

Oh, she would make the cutest card for you—the envelope is decorated with cute stickers (some of them even had her face on it; there’s nothing like promoting merchandise, am i right? jkjks) She also pairs it off with a box of chocolates that she bought from Sara—however, what she didn’t know was that in the box was a special-edition spicy chocolate truffle. With your luck, that was the first one you chose—and boy, were you met a surprise (it was so bad that you were begging Barbara to use her Vision on you, which she refused of course). Fun times.

Chongyun

He’s real sweet. After his expeditions and commissions, he opens the freezer (yes he keeps them in there, don’t judge him) to an array of ice sculptures, shapes varying from flowers, hearts, and such—although it’s quite the simple gift, he’s put a lot of effort into them, even putting in the extra effort to cast a spell to make sure they would not melt; it’s all worth though, when he sees the absolutely giddy expression on your face, and the look of pure awe as you pick one up and study it closely, admiring all of the details and work that’s he put in.

Ningguang

She sends out informants to find out what you like, whether it be something that your gaze settled on for too long or something you’ve mentioned while talking to her—on the day of, you open your door to a mountain of gifts, with Ningguang herself peering out from behind it with a calm smile and a wave (which was the opposite of your reaction, because who has that much mora to purchase all of these gifts?!?)

Razor

He doesn’t have a clue on what the holiday until Lisa asks him if he’s planned something for the two of you during one of his lessons. When he shakes his head no, Lisa suggests that he make you something, to which he sets out on an adventure to do, looking for flowers and flower stems to weave into a pair of matching bracelets—they’re not the prettiest, but he is pretty proud of it; after all, it was his first time making something like that. He’s quite nervous to present it to you, afraid that you might not like it, but all feelings of worry melt away when you slide it on with a huge smile on your face, insisting that he wears his too.

Sucrose

At first, she considers gifting you a present that she created herself; of course, with her work being alchemy, she isn’t sure if that would be the safest option, despite being talented herself. And so, she resorts to buying a present for you—she is very picky with the present though, insisting that it should be perfect since she could not make one herself. She even consults Albedo when selecting some of the presents (he doesn’t help her unfortunately; he believes that she should figure it out herself haha). Like Razor, she’s quite nervous to give it to you, but lets out a huge sigh of relief as you thank her happily for the gift, wiping a bead of sweat from across her forehead (sucrose bby anything you give us would be perfect,,)

whisks you away somewhere sentimental, where the two of you can enjoy a special date.

Beidou

It’s ungodly early in the morning when Beidou presents herself in front of your doorstep, announcing that you’ll be joining her and the crew on a special ride. She tugs you along beside her until you reach the harbor, where you are met with the sight of her ship adorned with streamers and banners, varying between shades of pink and red. Onboard, there is a table filled with goodies the crew collected and made, and boy do they look delicious. The group sets out to sea, and you take your place next to the captain, who even lets you steer the boat (momentarily, at least.)

Bennett

He takes you to meet his dads; yes, yes—he knows that it’s not the most romantic thing to do on a day dedicated to lovers, but he figures it’s just as important. Besides, they’ve been asking about you for quite a while—they even set up a small party within the Adventurer’s Guild, with the help of Bennett, of course. You spend the day listening to their old adventuring stories, as well as bits from Bennett’s childhood (poor boy is flustered from all the information his dads are spilling, but he’s still happy either way; after all, he’s with the most important people to him.)

Kaeya

He quite literally kidnaps you; one second you’re walking in the streets of Mondstadt on your way to work when suddenly someone grabs you by the waist and pulls you into an alley way (that sounds so creepy but i swear he means it in a good way). He only chuckles and shields himself with his arms as you punch him lightly, retorting that he scared you. He doesn’t care that the two of you have an overwhelming amount of work to do—after all, Valentine’s Day only comes once a year, right? Surprisingly, he doesn’t take you the tavern, but instead...Dawn Winery! Diluc received quite the surprise when he is met with the two of you standing outside his gates, with Kaeya requesting a wine/grape juice taste-testing. Yeah...you guys didn’t get any of that, but you did manage to snag a couple of grapes on your way out! Good for you!

Venti

You wake up in your bed, opening your eyes to see a very-smiley Venti laying beside you, chin propped up against his hand as he watches you yawn sleepily as you force yourself out of bed. You’re then presented with a handpicked-bouquet of Ceceilias, the freshest of the bunch, if he may add. You barely have time to thank him before he hoists you up in his arms and out of your dwelling, gliding over the city of Mondstadt as he whisks you away to Starsnatch Cliff, where he’s prepared a special performance just for you (and no, you don’t need to pay.)

Xingqiu

While he’s not the most romantic, he does have a clue on what people look for on Valentine’s Day; after all, that’s what cheesy-romance novels were for, right? Unbeknownst to you, he takes you on a date very similar to the one the main characters in his favorite novels partook in—and you don’t find out until you catch him peeking into the pages while you weren’t (you were) looking. Again, it’s the thought that counts—

doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.

Jean

Sadly, she probably forgets about the holiday. She’s too busy holed-up in her office to notice the couples gathered up in the courtyard, sharing moments with their lover. It’s not until she walks out to take a breather that she notices the commotion—she immediately calls you over, apologizing frantically. Of course, to this you respond that’s it’s okay, but that you would much rather her take the rest of the day off to spend time together, to which she reluctantly agrees.

Xiao

“I do not have time to celebrate silly human traditions like that.” He would say as you bound up to him, exclaiming that it’s Valentine’s Day, the day where you can give sweets to your loved ones, and asking if he had someone special in mind to spend it with. He’s irked when your gaze falters and the grip on the object you’re hiding behind your back tightens—he only grows more irked as you mutter to yourself how you’ll give the chocolates you made to someone else. He scoffs loudly, avoiding your gaze as he lays out his hand in front of you to accept the chocolates (just because he doesn’t celebrate the holiday doesn’t mean he can’t get jealous!)

[babbushka]

Watch Dog

Mob!Kylo Ren x F!Reader

(Inspired by the most recent edition of Writer Wednesday hosted by the kind @autumnleaves1991-blog!)

2k, cw: pre-official relationship, very mild angst (mutual pining), possessive feelings; NSFW (voyeurism, exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, phone sex)

------------

He smokes his cigarette, in the car.

Plumes of grey spill out of the sliver of space that the cracked window gives way to, crisp cool night air keeping him sane, keeping him calm. It’s hard to remain calm when you’ve been threatened in the way that you have – but that’s why he’s there. He’s there, keeping guard per your family’s orders, and that means nothing and no one will harm you.

Still, each and every movement in the dark park he sits and hides in alerts him, alarms him. Kylo’s finger is poised on his gun, ready to unleash his pent up fury on those who would dare harm you. He has been out here, in this park, watching and waiting for nearly four hours now, and…nothing. That was good, he thinks, but deep down, a part of him wishes with a sick sort of hope that someone would happen, so he could show you. He wants you to know how deeply he cares for you, how strongly he loves you. He wants to kill and main and hurt those who would hurt you, he wants you to see it, see what he’s capable of.

So he smokes his cigarette, in the car.

And he waits.

It’s empty, a Wednesday night strangely quiet. Springtime usually meant that Manhattan couldn’t stop bustling with activity, but this is not the case tonight. The park is closed and it is quiet, and Kylo smokes. He’s got the car turned off, no radio or even the hum of the engine to keep him company. He knows some of the other guys can’t do stake-outs like this without a partner to chat away the hours with, but Kylo has no interest in sharing the vision of you with anyone else, so he is alone.

Alone and waiting, for something to happen. His car is parked on the curb across from the townhome safe-house where you’re staying. When the death threats came, your family immediately decided to move you to a more secure location, and they had chosen here. Kylo didn’t agree with it, and he still doesn’t – he isn’t so sure that you’d be safe anywhere other than his arms.

But that would require him to suck it the fuck up and tell you how he feels about you, and he’s not so sure he can do that, not right now, not yet. He’s twenty-five and in love with you, stupidly, painfully in love with you. He has been for twenty of those years, even before he really knew what love was. Your family was extremely close with his family, and he knew that it would be a union that the underground crime world would rejoice about…but he has no way of knowing whether you feel the same way about him.

If the syndicates were a monarchy, you would be the princess of the mob. Beautiful and powerful and ruthless and so sharp, a lie detector and expert interrogator by the time you had graduated high school. Grown men bowed their heads and kissed your ring when you passed, and Kylo? Well, he’s nothing more than muscle, brute blunt force and unhinged rage. He could never deserve you, would never be able to earn your gentle quick witted love.

Which is why he takes every opportunity to be close to you, why he always has, and why he always will. For if he is destined to do nothing other than protect you, he will protect you with every fiber of his being.

He protects you now, sitting in his car, watching, waiting.

It’s late enough that you should be asleep, so when his trained eye catches movement from your bedroom window, Kylo immediately tenses. Holding his breath, he stares out into the lamp-light illuminated street, hunting for danger, daring the threat to make itself known so he can blow their brains out on the pavement.

Your figure comes into view then, a silhouette behind your closed curtains as you turn on a small lamp of your own, your body backlit through the window. Kylo’s cheeks burn with shame the moment he realizes that you’re slipping off your nightgown; he knows he should look away, he needs to give you your privacy…but the contours of your body are intoxicating, mesmerizing. He can’t see much at all, not really, just the shape of you, your details obscured by the curtain, but he can see so much more than he ever imagined. The curve of your breasts, the slope of your back, the line of your arms as they raise up in a stretch that has your body twisting and turning in a way that has Kylo’s mouth watering.

He doesn’t even know that he’s tugging at the belt on his jeans until he’s got his hand shoved inside his briefs, pulling his cock out and hissing around the sudden friction, the cool night air on his exposed skin. Kylo doesn’t look down at himself, doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you as he watches you move around in the safe-house. From one window to the next you go, and Kylo can picture it clear as day in his mind, how beautiful you are, stark naked like this.

It’s creepy, he’s being a creep, he knows, but he can’t stop. He doesn’t want to stop, he loves you so much, it’s overwhelming, god he’s so fucking hard. He exhales sharply through his nose as his fist speeds up, because he thinks, god he hopes that he can see the silhouette of your hands rubbing up and down your chest, and his mouth waters as he pictures himself squeezing and groping you instead.

Suddenly – a loud ringing jolts him out of his daze, and he releases his hard cock like it’s a brand he’s just been burned with. Blinking and choking on his cigarette, he whips his head around for the danger, for the noise, only to see it’s coming from an old payphone next to his car. Pulse rabbiting in his throat, Kylo regards the payphone with confused apprehension. He didn’t know that those things still worked in the first place, let alone that they could receive calls.

Casting a glance to you, he wonders if it’s a trap. But then, then then then, he sees the shape of your body holding a phone up to your ear, and he wonders if…no it couldn’t be.

Could it?

He tucks himself away quickly, the phone is still ringing, the illuminated booth casting a bright glow through the foggy park. He takes the gun with him just in case, and practically squeezes himself into the phone booth, picking it up and silencing the ring.

“Do you like what you see?” Your voice is breathy on the other line, and Kylo has to brace himself, because you sound wrecked, you sound just as horny as he feels.

“I can’t see very much.” Kylo admits, and you chuckle. The sound is warm and spreads through Kylo’s body like wildfire, fills him to the brim with adoration, an obsessive sort of worship. He wants to hear you laugh again, he wants to hear everything.

“How about now?” You tease, coy and devilish, and Kylo frowns, turns back towards the window just in time to see you tug the curtains open.

“Put that away.” His throat goes dry at once as he hisses out the order that he knows he has no business giving, “Someone else might be looking.”

“You don’t want anyone to see me?” You’re grinning, he can tell by the tone of your voice.

With the curtains open like this, he can see the way the moonlight, the streetlamps, how it all reflects off your skin. He can see the peaks of your nipples as the cool air hits them, watches as they stiffen. Fuck he’s hard, he’s leaking in his jeans, cock straining against the fabric.

“No.” Kylo grits out between clenched teeth, a possessive dark curling sensation winding through his veins, makes him shake with want. He watches as your hand travels down down down between your legs, hears the crackle through the payphone as you sigh out a moan.

“Why not?” You already know the answer, you have to know the answer, but you want to egg him on anyway, want to get him riled up.

“Because – fuck, (Y/N), I – ” Kylo grunts and groans, cock throbbing and aching for you.

“Are you touching yourself?” You must not be able to see him too well, but the question sparks something horribly hopeful in his chest.

“Do you want me to?” He pants, a silent plea let me let me let me.

“Please Kylo, please, I want to hear you, don’t you want to hear me?” Your voice lowers a register and Kylo’s hand is shoving back into his jeans with lightning speed, his body stuffed inside the phone booth, the hard plastic receiver tucked between his cheek and his shoulder as he tugs and strokes at himself with this new permission.

“Fuck, fuck yes I do.” He whines, groans into the receiver as he trembles around himself, eyes trained on your window, watching as your hand moves faster and faster, trying to time it together.

Suddenly, you lower the phone to your pussy, and Kylo nearly smacks his head on the glass wall of the booth that he can barely fit inside when he hears the squelch of your cunt around your fingers. His vision starts to black out, creeping around the edges of his gaze, and he grunts and groans as he spits down onto his palm and imagines it’s your slick, imagines he could have you.

And then, like some mind reader, you whine and moan into the phone as you lift it back to your own ear, and ask him something that he’s only ever dreamed of you asking; “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

Your voice curls around his ear, fills the empty spaces between his ribs because he is he is he is, always and forever that’s all he wants to be, but he can’t say it, he can’t get the words out because he knows that once they’re spoken he can never take them back to nurse his pride should you reject him.

“Oh shit, shit (Y/N) I’m going to come.” He groans instead, and you let out a moan at the thought, and then he is coming all over his fist, sticky white ropes splattering onto his stomach.

He feels electric, he feels insane, the way his bones rattle and his nerves spark in that little fucking phone booth that he sullies and dirties with his sweat and spit and come, fuck there’s so much come everywhere – are you coming?

Blinking through the sweat from his effort, Kylo strains to look at you through the window once again, your perfect body on display. No one is around to see, thank fuck, no one is looking at you. Kylo would kill them all, if they were.

He must have missed you coming, because your hands are away from your body, pulling the curtains closed once more.

“Will you be here all night?” You breathe, panting into the phone.

“As long as you need me.” Kylo replies before you’re even finished asking him, and you chuckle.

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m never going to stop needing you.” You admit, and the admission blooms hope in his chest once again. Maybe maybe maybe, maybe you love him too. He can barely fathom the thought, his mouth runs dry like the come that begins to crust up on his shirt.

“That’s fine by me.” Kylo rushes to say, and you chuckle again, post-orgasmic bliss warm in your voice.

“It is?” You have hope in your throat too, and Kylo nods, wondering if you can see the movement.

He knows he’ll go back to his car and sit and wait and watch for danger that may or may not come, when he hangs up the phone. He knows he’ll clean himself off and change his clothes and in the morning he’ll take you to breakfast and he’ll ask you what you mean, what exactly you mean.

But for now, it’s enough to hear your soft laughter and watch your silhouetted body move back to the bedroom. It’s enough to know that you believe him when he nods his head, when he tucks himself away, when you declare with all the sincerity that he can muster, offering his loyalty to you in as many ways as he can, when his deep voice rumbles and promises in that little phone booth, “I’m your watch dog.”

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Taggin' some Kylo loving friends :) @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @rennasiance-mama @steeevienicks @mousemakingjam @the-unmanaged-mischief @materialisthicc @slut-for-harri @littleevilme13 @erys-targaryen @leillaa @lovinghufflepuffgirl @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @schopenhauerdeathsquad @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @cowgirl1234 @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen

[restapesta]

I'm begging you to consider writing high and dumb Mickey too 🤲🙏

Heyyyy Drish! Sorry for taking a while, hope this works :)

This is sort of just a part two of this fic here, but they're not connected in anything more but the high dumbed-out idiot part, just this time Mickey instead of Ian. Enjoy!

After Ian had asked, Veronica had given him the recipe for the brownies with the blandest of stares, an eye roll, and a simple, "You're gonna have to buy your own weed,"—he had accepted the piece of paper graciously with the widest of smiles.

It was an experiment, really. Just another one of his cooking endeavors that were bound to fail, but Ian was down to try out anyway. He needed to be careful, despite the fact he was making this specific recipe with newfound confidence after hours of secret YouTube binge-watching. Mickey did ban him from the kitchen, after all.

The latest meal he had attempted to make ended in a heap of smoke that wafted through the apartment and had unceremoniously triggered the fire alarm and awoken Mickey from the dead, prompting him to ban Ian from any place he could make food in.

Quite literally—Ian wasn't even allowed to make fucking coffee in the morning without his husband glaring at him and telling him to get the fuck out before he over-boiled the water and burned the place down.

"That's not even possible, Mick."

"Only you would even manage to do that, Ian,"

Even though Ian always rolled his eyes at him, he steered clear of the room, at least until he was sure he had their home to himself and that Mickey would in no way catch him playing with the pots and pans.

Like now, for example.

Mickey was out with Iggy—"gonna be out for forty minutes maybe, grab some beers"—which meant that Ian wouldn't be seeing his man for another couple hours when he walked into the apartment tipsy, horny, and one-hundred percent ready to crash. Ian had all the time in the world.

He placed the recipe down onto the pristine counter that he had scrubbed down along with his hands. Ian eyed the ingredients, gaze lingering on the bowl of green herbs in the faraway corner next to the flour.

He grinned.

This was going to be fun.

---

The brownies turned out better than Ian had expected. He'd only taken a small bite, not wanting to seem high out of his mind when Mickey came home and had hidden the perfectly shaped chocolate delights in the fridge, making sure to place them behind a bowl of salad wrapped up in cellophane. That was one of the only places Mickey wouldn't even glance towards while searching for a beer.

Or so Ian thought.

It wasn't Mickey's absence in bed that made Ian stir in his sleep and eventually pry open his eyes at four in the morning—no, it was the loud crash that so obviously came from the living room, followed subsequently by a roar of laughter from none other than the man that was supposed to be next to Ian in bed right now.

Even though Ian had an inkling feeling nobody had broken into their home and that nothing was there to endanger them, he still grabbed the baseball bat they had secured into their dresser. He gripped the wood between his palms and tentatively cracked open the bedroom door to peer into the hallway.

And, lo behold, the man-child was sitting on the floor next to the couch, mouth and fingers both smeared with chocolate as he stuffed the brownies Ian had made that day into his mouth. Ian let the baseball bat drop to the floor next to his feet which prompted Mickey to whip his head towards him like a deer caught in headlights.

There was a vase of flowers toppled over and Ian heaved a sigh of relief that the dirty water had been spilled on the tiles rather than the new expensive carpet they had splurged on.

"Mickey," Ian whispered into the dark, eyes pinned on his husband who was only illuminated by the glow from the kitchen's LED lights.

Mickey giggled, already shaking himself out of the shock.

"You had to get a midnight snack now, did ya'?" Crouching down next to Mickey, he watched him lick his fingers and wipe at his mouth with the back of his hand. "How'd you even find them?"

Mickey giggled again, and Ian silently scolded himself for getting the high-end weed that he did. It was strong, and although Mickey would probably be able to handle it in average doses, he did eat about five of the brownies if Ian's eyes didn't betray him.

He picked the pate up from Mickey's grasp, earning a whine in return, and walked to the kitchen to pour a glass of water.

When he held it out for Mickey a minute later, the man just stared.

"Drink, Mickey." Ian prodded, slightly exasperated, and their eyes met.

Mickey grinned, and with a wide smile that morphed into a smirk, took the glass of water out of Ian's hand and drank it.

He finished with a loud sigh and then he placed the glass down next to him as he ran his eyes ever-so-slowly over Ian. They were glazed over but the blue was prominent, even in the dark.

"Hello, Mr. Milkovich," Mickey slurred as he took Ian in, who, in return, rolled his eyes.

"You're high as fuck, come on, let's get to bed."

Mickey shook his head. "You made those?"

Ian nodded, still down on his knees next to Mickey.

"They're good, but you remember you're banned from the kitchen, right?"

Ian shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mick—,"

"You do know," Mickey interrupted, eyes glinting with mischief. "I'm gonna have to punish you?"

And then Ian was being tackled down onto the floor, Mickey straddling his hips, palms spread across Ian's chest.

Ian released a ragged breath. "Why are you always so horny when you're high?"

In response, Mickey leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips.

And then another to his jaw. Then to his neck.

"Mickey,"

"Wanna stop?"

Ian chuckled, "You're gonna fall asleep on me."

Mickey's eyes clouded before he laughed too loudly for this early in the morning—or maybe late at night.

He sat up straight and simply kept on sitting, ass on Ian's crotch, as he thought about something.

"So, you're not gonna move?"

Mickey kept on looking at the wall across from him. "I'm comfortable," He answered absentmindedly.

"On my dick?"

"Only yours."

Ian's chest swelled. He felt heat rush to his cheeks. "Shut up."

That was Mickey turned to look down at him. Their eyes met, Mickey's bleary yet serious. He said, softly, "I love it when you blush."

His back arched as he pressed a light kiss to Ian's cheekbone.

Ian sighed in content. "You too."

"No," Another kiss as Ian's arms went up around his neck. "You rarely blush, and when you do, you look so fucking cute."

Ian laughed. "The same could be said for you."

"Yes, but you look really cute. I just wanna kiss your face."

Ian blushed. "You're never this chatty when you're high."

"There you go again with the blushing." Mickey paused, then sighed, as if he had to do something now. "Guess you know what that means."

Before Ian could even ask what, Mickey was pressing kisses all over his face making him let out squeals and noises he would never admit to ever making in his entire life. He hoped that Mickey wouldn't remember them the next morning.

"Mick!" Ian let out another high-pitched whine as Mickey connected their lips with a smack.

Mickey pushed himself back. "Okay, I'm done." He looked at Ian's face, satisfied.

They simply stared at each other for a few moments.

"I really like you, you know?"

Ian's lips parted at the earnestness of Mickey's words.

"I like, really, really like you."

"I really, really like you too," Ian whispered back. Blinking away the slight wetness in his eyes, he breathed, "Come here,"

Mickey complied and they kissed slowly, Ian tasting the remnants of chocolate on Mickey's lips, and he wondered if he was getting high from the kiss or the weed.

When Mickey pulled back and licked his lips bashfully, Ian knew it was the latter.

Then Mickey's face broke into a yawn.

"Come on, Mick," Ian said smiling, panting still from the onslaught of unexpected affection. "Let's get to bed."

Mickey didn't seem to be listening. He simply stretched his legs back so he was laying on top of Ian who was still sprawled back on the floor.

"Mickey?"

His husband placed his hands on Ian's shoulders and nestled his head onto his chest, and once he was comfortable with the position, Ian watched him close his eyes.

"Mick?"

Only a snore followed.

"Fuuuuck."

With a light amused scoff and his head down on the warm carpeted floor, Ian placed an arm over Mickey's back, observed as he drooled over his T-shirt for a few seconds before he closed his eyes, and willed himself to sleep.

It didn't take long, the weight of his husband sending him blissfully inro unconsciousness.

[hardyimagines]

A Crave For Fame

Would love a Forrest piece, maybe where you’re cornered by some bad guy and Forrest steps in and you nurse him. Bandaging his wounds and what not. You get really close to his face and he acts nonchalant about it but you’re really shy. Ends in a heated kiss. Lots of fluff.

TW: Mild Violence

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1932.

The bar smelt like thick liquor and dried throw up. The top of your nose was red and cold from the chilly wind as it whipped around outside swirling in circles, shaking tree branches until they were forced to drop their leaves, whisking up grains of dirt and sending them flying in the direction of those who were outside. It was a dust storm of some sort, that’s what people were referring to it as. The air outside was orange and murky, it looked as if the clouds had descended and were making the world all puffy and one big blur.

The tips of your painted nails slid along the straps of your bright red apron. Unhooking the fabric from the silver hook on the wall, you briefly ogled the peeling paper, crisp and dangling like a hangnail waiting to be ripped off. The apron wasn’t exactly required, but you found that it definitely helped to wear something in order to prevent having alcohol sloshed and spilled and stuck on you when rowdy customers would shake their heavy fists and bounce their heavy, drunk bodies on the counter stools.

Regardless of how many times you wiped down the counter, it always seemed to have a slick, sticky feeling to it and the lemon scent only masked the stench of whiskey and rum for a limited amount of time. The sign outside read ‘Restaurant’ and the sign further forward read ‘Gas station’, and while there was a small supply of gas and a short list of food items on the menu, that wasn’t at all what this place was truly selling.

It was the prohibition era. People were parched and the only way to quench their thirst was by giving them a cold beverage that scalded their throat as it went down. The smooth liquor was rich, bitter, sweet, plain. Everybody had their preference. You weren’t much of a drinker, but pouring beverages was easy enough and from the looks of approval you received all the time, you’d assume you were doing a pretty good job.

Working for bootleggers was never something that had spiked your interest in the past - and maybe it wouldn’t have when you had sauntered up the hill when it was pouring down rain a year ago, but one look at the man had charge had sent you reeling. You didn’t want to work anywhere else.

Forrest Bondurant was one of, if not, the most attractive men you’d ever seen. He had big blue eyes and a head of constantly gelled hair. Why he went through the trouble of styling such a mess, you didn’t know, majority of the time he wore a hat on top of it anyway. He was always strolling around in his big gray cardigan with a button down or another sweater underneath. You couldn’t count the amount of times you’d overfilled the shot glasses on the bar and spilled liquor all over your fingers and the counter, just because staring at him was such a distraction. He didn’t notice though, and if he did, he didn’t say anything.

The front door opened with a loud creak, the hinges loudly alerting whoever had just entered that they were in no shape to be handled so roughly. The door swung shut, slamming loudly behind the new guest. His eyes shimmered green and his teeth sparkled white. The man removed his top hat and strode up to the counter with so much confidence you could’ve upchucked. Men like him made you want to spit in their drinks.

“What can I get for you?” You asked, not bothering to stop and give him the eye contact that he was clearly searching for.

“Something light.” The man said. “I won’t be staying long.” He pressed his elbow against the counter, but made no mention of the filth or the stench.

It wasn’t busy yet, but there were always people inside. Either they slept the night at the bar counter, on the floor, at a table, or outside, or they showed up as bright and early as the sun did, ready to start drinking the day away. Most of the customers that tended to be here so long just made their own drinks when you rested. Forrest knew them, you knew them, so there was no harm done. But this man, he was a completely new face.

“Something light as in water?” You said, pouring a shot of water and replacing it with the shot of vodka that one of the men had been drinking. He was green in the face and looked about ready to faint. You knew he needed to be eased off the liquor, you couldn’t just flat out say that - people reacted too differently to know if it would be a threat or not to cut someone’s intake off.

The man snorted. “Why would I come into a bar for a glass of water?”

You arched a slow brow. “The same reason you’d come in and ask for something light - we have liquor, straight from the bottle. It’s not dolled up and pretty, we don’t have any mixers, it’s just straight alcohol.” You didn’t say another word, instead you finally let your eyes flicker to his own, resisting the urge to glare. But your patience was wearing thin. You didn’t have time for games and he was beating around the bush.

The man sighed. “Moonshine.” He said before lowering himself down on the stool. “And maybe a drink of you?” You could hear the amusement in his voice, as if he were positive you’d take him up on his offer. He found himself hilarious.

Turning on the heel of your pointed boot, you wrapped your slender fingers around the neck of the silver bottle. Rotating, you poured a perfect glass of moonshine and then set the glass down in front of him. No spillage. The liquid was filled to the brim. Extending your arm, your palm creased as you curled your finger inward, waiting to be paid.

Instead, the man grasped your wrist and pressed it against the bar counter. “How about you give this one to me for free? Since I don’t see you marching that ass of yours from out behind the counter.” He patted his lap for good measure. “I went ahead and saved you a seat,” He motioned to his thigh again. “but you know, you’re being awful rude.”

Your eyes creased in the corners, stare hardening as the man tightened his hold on your wrist. Forrest was a shout away, but you were a big girl, not some maiden in a tower waiting to be rescued. Attempting to jerk your arm back to yourself, you hissed under your breath when he turned it at an odd angle. All the other men in the room were out old or oblivious. You could scream their names and they probably wouldn’t bat an eye.

You flinched as he began to rifle through his pocket.

“I’ll give you something.” He said, masking the tone of his voice for a more gentle and apologetic one. But you weren’t an idiot, so you didn’t let your guard down. But it wasn’t as if you could just rip your arm away from him. He was insanely strong and you, unfortunately, didn’t get much upper arm strength pouring drinks. Before you could utter a word, he pressed a cigarette against his lips and lit the end. The brownish-orange tip of the stick illuminated with bright orange embers as he inhaled and the smoke lifted from the end of the form of payment.

“Let me go.” You insisted, practically ripping at your arm so hard that your wrist had gone numb from his tight grasp.

“After I pay you.” He said. You didn’t know what to expect, a puff of smoke being blown in your direction? The man pinched the stick with his knuckles, clasping it between his pointer finger and his middle finger. He rotated it swiftly, pinching it then between his thumb and pointer finger. As suddenly as he moved the smoking tip toward your flesh, your eyes flickered with realization. And then you began to squirm.

“Hey..” You pulled harder. “What are you doing?” It was so obvious. But in a panicked state of mind were you expected to speak adequately. “Let me go, please..” Begging was never one of your strong suits. It just didn’t fit you. You hated it, having to ask someone to have mercy on you. But you didn’t fancy smelling burnt flesh, or feeling the pain that would come along with seared flesh. Scream for help, your brain said. You’re a big girl, but you can still ask for help, it reminded you.

The ashes fell from their loose spots on the cigarette, floating across your skin, dusting it with kisses. The ashes gathered on the counter as he lowered the hot tip of the cigarette toward your flexed forearm. Forrest’s name was on the tip of your tongue, but the pink muscle felt swollen and useless. There was a block in your throat that wouldn’t let your voice free and for the first time in a long time, fear surged through you like a whirlwind, resembling the very state of weather outside. Your body ran hot with fear and as you jerked your elbow to the side, the glass of moonshine toppled over and clattered against the floor.

Pieces scattered along the floor as the cup smashed on impact. If that wasn’t enough to lure Forrest out of office, then perhaps your cry of agony would. But the bloke was just a sliver of a second too late. The tip of the cigarette grazed your skin, enough to leave a slight burn, but as quickly as the glass had broken, Forrest had appeared.

He didn’t hover in the doorway to inspect what was going on. Someone had their hands on you and right away, it was unacceptable. The big, burly man strode forward. His thick fingers curled in the caramel flannel that the bastard was wearing. Forrest snatched the cigarette from his pinched fingers and immediately snubbed the lit tip out by pressing the hot surface against the man’s cheek.

The bloke let out a nasty yell, finally releasing your arm. You lifted your hands, on instinct, to cup over your ears, blocking out the sound of his pained shouting as best as you could.

His cry was like a signal though. The doors flew open and three other men piled in. It was rumored that the Bondurant brother’s were all invincible - especially Forrest. He’d survived a lot - brutal attacks, life-threatening illnesses, having his throat slit, his heart broken, wars. But could he take on four men?

Dropping your hands from your ears when the yelling stopped, you crouched down and began to twist the knob on the safe. It was a sixteen digit pin, so it would take a moment to open, but the revolver inside had six bullets, so you be able to wipe out all of the men with that if it came down to it. You weren’t peering over the bar counter to see what was happening. You were scared - terrified. A part of you wanted to leap into your boss’s arms and give him a bear hug, another part of you wanted to hide in those big arms of his and just forget that your arm had almost been burnt to a crisp. Instead, there was just a very small burn. It was nothing to worry over, nothing in comparison to the burn on the man’s face.

“What the fuck are you all standing there for!” The man rasped loudly, clutching his hand to his face as if the skin on skin contact would help him. “Get him!”

All three men moved forward. One was smoking a cigar - very nonchalant as he marched toward Forrest, one was sweating like he’d just ran a marathon, and the other was blinking furiously as if the dust outside had momentarily blinded him.

Forrest stuck his hand in his pocket and used his fingers to make the shape of a gun. The outline was bulky and visible and the three men hesitated, if only for a second. “I’d think very carefully on what you’re ‘bout to do next, boys.” Forrest spoke softly. His voice was quiet, slow. It was silky against your ears.

You poked your head out for half a second, blindly rotating to nozzle all the way to the left - 11, and then all the way to the right, 5. Inputting every single number as quickly as you could, you jumped in fear at the sound of a sickening crack. You jumped up, expecting to see Forrest laying in a heap on the floor, but instead it was just one of the other men. Forrest stood with his bloodied hand hanging at his side. Blood dripped from the brass knuckles he wore, droplets staining the wooden floorboards. Forrest sneered.

“Who’s next?” He inquired. “The man with the cigarette burn, the broken jaw, the blind one, or the sweaty one.” He flexed his fingers for a moment, waiting impatiently for one of them to charge at him.

What he didn’t expect was for the untouched duo to jump toward him at the same time. He sent his fist flying directly into one of their spine’s, but with the help from the bastard who now had a permanent scar on his cheek, Forrest was sent directly down and on to his back. The men tackled him and you trembled on the spot.

Shakily crouching back down, you began to finish off the code. Forrest’s groans of pain were evident. He was rasping, moaning, putting up as much of a fight as he could. He swung his arms and tried desperately to cover his face. Two men grabbed his arms and pulled them apart, leaving his face and stomach vulnerable to their boss.

The man’s cheek was sunken where the hole was forming. His eyes were red and watery and his stance was slightly shaky. But he had the upper hand as he moved forward. His hand dropped to his pocket and without any hesitance, he pulled a knife free from a holster.

“Now then, why don’t I reopen that cut on your throat?” The man sneered, already beginning to crouch down. Forrest’s nose was bleeding, his eye was swollen and purple. You were sure his stomach would be doused in bruises in the morning and his fingers would be cramped, locked, and jammed.

The safe opened with a quiet buzz and you, with an eagerness, desperately grabbed the handle of the gun and stood. Your hold was steady and your aim was perfect. You’d been working here for a little more than a year, and Forrest had taught you how to shoot within your first few weeks.

Extending your arms out, you held the gun steady as you cocked the revolver. “Hey, asshole.” You said breathily. “If you lay one more finger on him, I’ll kill you.” You could tell by the man’s tense back and resistance to look in your direction that he knew you weren’t bluffing. He slowly tucked away the blade and then sucked in a deep breath of air.

“You’re the first group of people to put up such an unnecessary fight. My brother’s and I, this is what we do, free alcohol from the bootleggers and pretty women are an extra bonus.” He snorted before looking in your direction.

You scowled, before demanding. “Leave..” And although you wanted them to, to all just pile out toward the entrance and get the hell out of here, it worried you. What if they came back sometime in the night when everyone was vulnerable and sleeping? Your eyes were distant as you pondered how this would end. You could blow another hole in his other cheek, though that one would be far more deadly. Or you could let them go.

“Forrest..” You whispered. His guidance was definitely a necessity right now. It wasn’t too often you found yourself in this position. The floorboards creaked underneath you as you shuffled your weight from foot to foot. Forrest sat up with a low grumble, clearly trying to hide the fact that he was in pain. He jerked his arms free from the hold the men had had on him and as he began to stand, he spun around and grabbed the back of their necks. Shoving them toward one another so their skulls rammed into each other, he shoved them both to the floor and then retrieved his brass knuckles. Two opponents down, and one more left.

Forrest gave each of them a few extra punches to the face for good measure, wanting them to realize that they truly weren’t a match for the invincible Bondurant. He whirled around to face the last man, the one who thought he could lay a hand on you, the one who thought he could use you as an ashtray and that would be fine.

The man did that to all of the bartenders, marking them in each town he passed through. His real name wouldn’t live on in the history books, but what he’d done would. Who wouldn’t want to read about a man that burned bartenders with a cigarette butt as a form of payment? It made him want to laugh on the spot.

Instead, he dove head first across the bar counter and directly into you. When it came to fight or flight, your reflexes were clearly to just freeze. His body sent yours crumbling to the floor. It was sticky and disgusting because you only mopped on the weekend. You have a sharp cry of pain and fear as he ripped the gun from your hand and pressed the tip against your chin. “Now then,” He sneered down at you. “You didn’t want a cigarette burn, maybe you’d like a bullet wound. I won’t kill you, I need you alive so you can tell the story about me.” His eyes creased with his lopsided grin and his breath - it stunk of peanuts and smoke. He didn’t even take a sip of the moonshine, it sat prettily on the bar, the liquid shaking from all the movement in the bar.

Forrest stepped toward the bar to help you, just as the man jerked you up and to your feet by your hair. Your eyes were opened wide and your eyes were pleading. The barrel of the gun caressed your soft skin, stroking your chin until he dared to move the gun to your lips. You jerked your head away, scoffing under your breath at the audacity of this man. He must’ve thought he was in a movie with the way he was behaving, talking about himself as if one day he’d be some big story. Your watery eyes moved to Forrest. He hadn’t budged. His knuckles were bloody and dripping - his blood or the men’s blood he didn’t know. All he saw was red. He felt hot and irritated, at a loss of control.

“What do you want?” Forrest said. His voice was so monotone. He sounded like he was taking someone’s order for food, not trying to save your life.

The man chortled. “I want you to light a cigarette and put it out on her body. I’ll let you choose where.” The man moved his hand to the back of your neck, roughly pinching it before he shoved you as hard as possible out from behind the bar and in the direction of your boss. He didn’t follow, he kept four feet between himself and the two of you. The gun was cocked and pointed, all he had to do was shoot.

Your feet didn’t cooperate with your mind, especially not after being forcefully sent flying forward. You rammed right into Forrest’s broad chest, arms immediately lifting so that you could clutch on to his cardigan. No part of you worried that he’d actually do what he was told. This was Forrest, he had a way out of everything - you hoped. Lifting your watery eyes to his own as he pressed his thick fingers against your elbow, steadying you, he checked your face for any signs of injury before slipping his other arm around you as well. You’d never been so close to him, pressed flush against him with hardly any room to breathe.

The man reached up and pinched the front of his hat. Removing the accessory, he lowered it to your head, shielding you from what was to come. Should he be shot, he didn’t think that was something you should see. You blinked slowly, your breaths seeming louder than usual beneath the oversized hat. You couldn’t see much, nothing but the ground and his belly as it rose and fell with every inhale and exhale.

So what happened next made you flinch. It was loud, so loud, there were screams of pain and the sound of cracking bones. Forrest hadn’t moved, he was still standing firmly with his feet planted against the wooden floor. His fingertips dared to brush along your arm, slow and assuring as he watched the scene play out. His brothers weren’t the best fighters, they weren’t the best when it came to confrontation, but regardless of what was happening they’d always have his back like he had theirs.

Without explaining what was going on, Forrest merely lifted the front of his hat so that he could see your features. Inspecting you closely, he let out a quiet grunt before giving you the best smile he could muster. With a swollen lip and a bruised eye, the expression didn’t seem fitting. Who’d be happy at a time like this? Relief colored his features as he slowly brushed his knuckles along your warm skin before he parted his lips to speak.

You beat him to it though. “Thank you..” You whispered softly before dragging yourself back. You didn’t want to suffocate him or make him uncomfortable by clinging to him. There was no longer a threat. “Come on,” You murmured softly. “Let me look at your injuries.” Peeling the hat off of your head, your slender fingers slipped through his own and you slowly guided him toward one of the tables. It was wiped clean, void of any crumbs or liquor, so you set the hat down on the surface and then nudged him gently to take a seat.

Forrest’s knees popped under the pressure and his bloodied hands moved to his stomach. It was only then, when he felt the pressure of the brass knuckles, that he realized he hadn’t taken them off. His fingers felt swollen and stiff and his arms refused to move for a few moments.

You have him a soft smile before slowly reaching for his hand. Your touch was delicate and slow as you pried the brass knuckles off of him. Setting the tool on the table, you turned around to fetch the first aid kit from behind the bar, just as Howard and Jack were hauling the bloke toward the exit. They’d be back for the other three as well.

You stepped over the unconscious bodies on the floor - some drunkards, and the three others were Forrest’s attackers. Retrieving the fallen revolver, you uncocked the weapon and slipped it back in the safe before securely closing the black case and then retrieving the plastic first aid box. The white handle fit snugly in your small palm as you pulled it free from its place under the bar.

You didn’t have the confidence that you’d be able to fix Forrest up as good as new, but you were certain that you’d be able to prevent anymore swelling, help some go down, and patch up the spots on his face that were bleeding. Your boots clicked softly against the floorboards as you made your way over to the table. Setting the box down, you undid the clasps on the front and then pushed it open. Dragging out the small container of alcohol, some gauze, a few wipes, and an ice packet, you gave him a small smile.

Forrest watched your every movement through one good eye, and one half-opened, swollen, purple eye. His nose was busted and bleeding and purple in the center. It didnt look broken, but it certainly looked bruised.

“Could I wipe your hands clean?” You asked softly. There was always an ever present shyness to you when it came to the man seated in front of you. You didn’t know what it was about him that made you feel so nervous, but you felt the need to shy away after every word exchanged.

He gave a quiet hum before lifting his hands and laying them on the table. His knuckles were tense and bleeding in various places. The impact of the brass knuckles hammering against a man’s face, still brought a small amount of pain to the man’s knuckles. He shuffled, watching you as you slipped your hand into his own and lifted it. The sun poured in through the window, falling across the injury so you could see perfectly. You opened the bottle of alcohol, dousing the cloth in it before you gently began to wipe away the smudges of blood and then cleaned the opened wounds, cuts and scrapes that bled like gashes.

He didn’t wince or jerk away even though it stung horribly. It wasn’t a matter of protecting his ego, everyone experienced pain at some point in their life. Adjusting his hand lightly, he cleared his throat before letting his thick fingers drop to his lap when you were finished cleaning them up. “Would you have really shot him?” He asked suddenly.

Your eyes lifted to his own as he asked such a thing. You stepped away again to retrieve some ice, but his words burned your ears. As you filled the ice pack, you couldn’t help but wonder what the honest answer was. Would you have shot him? Blinking a few times, you carried the ice pack back over to your boss and slowly lifted it so that he could hold it in place over his eye. “Yes.” You said after what felt like an eternity to him. “In the leg.. perhaps, or the arm.” You offered. “But I don’t think I couldve killed him.”

Forrest gave a soft nod. “I didn’t expect you to.” He assured you before giving you the best smile he could muster. “I’m incredibly grateful that you.. well, put your life on the line for me like that. He could’ve killed you.”

You snorted. “You and me both. But we’re fine.” Guiding his hand to the ice pack so he could hold it on the wound, you then began to tend to his nose. There wasn’t much you could do, apart from clean up the dried blood that rested underneath his nostril. He had stubble, dancing along the length of his warm flesh. His cheeks and his jaw were coated in the fine hairs, giving some texture to his face as your hand cupped the sharp surface, thumb grazing his chin so that you could tip his head back.

The close proximity was numbing. You felt like you’d been swallowed by a flame. Maybe it was the way the sun illuminated the both of you, but the heat you felt was completely internal. Fidgeting for a moment under his unwavering stare, you watched as the white cloth turned red and his red skin returned to the initial paleness it ordinarily was. Crumbling the rag, you laid it on the table before leaning into him so you could get a better look at his eye. You moved the ice pack, squinting as you inspected the damage.

“I’m not doctor, Mr. Bondurant.. you’re probably better off having this injury looked at.” You suggested before straightening. Your arms slowly crossed over your chest, warm fingertips tracing the sleeves of your shirt.

Forrest grumbled something incoherent before giving you a soft nod. “Feels just fine.” He lied.

“Forrest.” You scolded him. “It’s swollen shut.”

The man arched a brow. Very rarely did you use his first name. His large palm lifted, covering his eye so that he could watch you through the swollen one. “See. Works just fine.”

You squinted challengingly before shaking your head in mild amusement. The man was insufferable. You made movement to turn to clean up the first aid kit tools, but he grasped your forearm tenderly in his large palm.

“Id know if something were wrong with my eye, Y/n, because you look just as beautiful through my swollen eye as you do with my two good ones.” He pulled you in his direction, his expression a pleading one. “Perhaps you should take one more look at it.”

Your brows furrowed at the compliment he’d given you before you stumbled in his direction. Laying your nimble fingers against the unsturdy, wooden arm of the chair. Inspecting his eye as he asked, you gave him a small, shy smile. “Mr. Bondurant, I believe you..” Though you weren’t sure if you did or you just wanted to put some proximity between you and his body. He was so warm and inviting, it drove you up the wall.

Forrest leaned forward. He enjoyed seeing you squirm so much. You were riddled with your fear of being unliked by him, even though it was clear he felt the same things for you. The man’s hand was gentle as it slid up the length of your arm so he could brush a few of your tresses back and out of your eyes.

Your cheeks felt unbelievably warm in this moment. You were sure that if they could be, they’d be the color of a ripe tomato. Lifting your free hand to steady yourself, you pressed it against his strong shoulder. “What are you doing..?” You breathed, attempting to rack your brain for some sort of explanation for his actions. Your brain refused to help you, it was completely blank. The closer your face grew to his own, the hotter you became and the more your brain shut down. You felt like a blob of jello.

He couldn’t help but smile. He sensed your shyness, which was exactly why he didn’t offer any words. Just actions. He figured they’d speak louder. Besides, he had to thank you in some enjoyable fashion. Why not with a kiss? The man spread his thighs wide enough to give you a place to stand. Drawing you forward, he moved his hands to your curvy waist and held on to you as his hot breaths began to mingle with your own.

All at once, your brow smoothed and your mind was completely blank. You saw nothing but him, heard nothing but the hammering of your own heart, smelled nothing but him - and he smelt like smoke and liquor, you felt nothing but his hard body under your palm, and soon you’d taste nothing but those big, pink lips of his. Your own mouth parted, incredibly too willingly, and all at once your mouth’s molded together like long lost pieces to a missing puzzle.

Your body fell into his lap, arms appearing to be insanely slender as they curled around his wide, broad, muscular shoulders. Forrest moved his hand to your leg, steadying you with one hand on your thigh and the other laid against your back. His mouth was slow, tentative, and curious as it moved in sync with your own and your’s was hungry, exploring, and needy. The shyness you felt crept away, but it didn’t go too far, it was just silenced by the romantic exchange he was leading.

His lips were as soft as you were imagined, and he tasted like honey and coffee. You pressed the crook of your elbow against the back of his neck and let a sultry moan fall from your lips in approval. Every brush of his fingers against your spine and feel of his tongue gliding against your own, sent sparks of electricity jolting throughout your body.

You still didn’t understand why he was kissing you, but was there really a point in questioning it? Maybe he was just grateful. Maybe he’d been hit so hard in the face he thought this was the right thing to do? And maybe, you hoped it was for this reason, the incident had helped you both find the confidence to grow suddenly closer. You were careful not to let your nose bump his or your hands to stray too far in fear of hitting an injury. What this meant and how far this would go didn’t cross your mind though, because in this moment there was only him and those sweet tasting lips of his.

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Tag List: @saved-fanfiction @thephuonganh @theaamberr @innerpaperexpertcloud @darklydeliciousdesires @thebeckyjolene @mollybegger-blog @travelingmypassion @caffinated-tree @tcmhollnd @br0ck-eddie @ellar21 @advictedtohim @river-rain-water @crldrr2 @louloudeug99

A/N: This is my first fic in almost a year so please bear with me🖤 ( ALSO NOT MY GIFS ) also it’s been soooo long since I’ve uploaded, I can’t remember how to do a ‘keep reading’ on mobile, so please message me and let me know how!!

[sweetpeasgirl]

A Northside, Southside Romance | Sweet Pea

Description: Sweet Pea goes to Pop’s when he wants to feel like a normal teenager. He orders a strawberry milkshake and curly fries. Tonight, with his order, he gets something unexpectedly sweet. He gets something he can’t want but does anyway. Tonight he gets y/n.

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Female!Reader

Warnings: None

Tags: FLUFF

Sweet Pea walks down the dusky streets of Riverdale after dark. His head is ducked, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He knows where he's going but that doesn't mean he wants anyone else to know. After all, Serpents don't drink milkshakes. How would it look if one of their toughest is seen drinking a strawberry one in the light of day?

The door to Pop's opens with a welcoming chime. To Sweet Pea's ears, though, it sounds more threatening than cheerful. That's the price of being in a gang; constantly glancing over your shoulder. There have been too many times where he's had some punk try to backstab him. Quite literally, to clarify.

Glancing around the old establishment, Sweet Pea grins to himself. Completely empty. Just how he had hoped it would be. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out his wallet. The old man waiting for him at the register is too familiar to not grin again. Sweet Pea, although he'd never admit it, has spent many long nights under this very roof talking to him.

"Sweet Pea? How’re ya’ doing kid!" Pop never fails to set his mind on ease.

The old man peers at him with concern but the smile never leaves his face.

"Rough day," Sweet Pea runs a hand through his dark brown hair, "just taking a lot of crap from all you northsiders lately."

Pop laughs- a big belly laugh- and writes down an order before Sweet Pea tells him what he wants. It's not like it would make a difference whether or not the tall Serpent had answered. He orders the same thing everytime; a strawberry milkshake and curly fries.

"You just need some good food, boy. Go sit down and I'll have someone bring it over when it's done."

Sweet Pea nods, pulling out a ten to pay with but the jolly old man just shoos him to an empty booth. Pop sees a lot more than he lets on. When a kid only has a ten in his wallet- and you live in a place where sometimes the only way to get yourself out of a problem is cash- you don't take the money. What's the loss? Eight-fifty and a home cooked meal? That’s worth it any day.

Sweet Pea, sitting down in the booth, lets his eyes wander all around the retro diner. He's always felt at home at Pop's, more so than in his own home. It's warm with that ‘you belong here’ kind of atmosphere. It's been his hideaway for some time now. Whenever he has a rough day he just sinks low into a booth and lets the world keep going without him for a little while.

Today had been no exception to that. Some arrogant northsider had been running around the southside with a can of red spray paint. Needless to say, the bruise forming under his eye is hard to miss. He wonders why Pop didn't mention it.

"Hey, Pop said these were yours," Sweet Pea's head snaps up at the sound of a sweet voice.

A young waitress, about his age, stands in front of him, a tray with a strawberry milkshake and curly fries in her hands. For a moment he's frozen, staring into the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen. They're wide and bright, nowhere near as afraid as most are when they see him. She has a huge smile on her face; like she's actually happy to be working the midnight shift on a Friday if only because she had wanted to see him.

He feels his shoulders relaxing and snaps himself out of his daze. She's just some stupid northsider. She hates him. He has to hate her. Yet, when she places the milkshake and fries on the table and turns to leave, his eyes never leave her retreating figure. He shakes his head when she disappears around the corner. A northsider and a southsider- a Serpent- would never happen. Especially not with him. Anything star crossed is just too much work for his already hellish life.

He goes to take a sip of his milkshake when he stops abruptly. There, on the whip cream, are two cherries and a piece of red licorice in the shape of a simple smile. What on earth? Sweet Pea can't tear his eyes from the ice cream in front of him, he tries but he can't stop the small grin that forms on his face. He knows the cute waitress from before had something to do with this.

Speaking of which, a musical giggle interrupts his staring competition with the ice cream. He quickly glances up in time to see her half hidden by the counter and a wall that leads to the kitchen. She has a hand over mouth to try to cover up the onslaught of laughs but it's half-hearted; she's genuinely pleased with herself for the little gift she left for him. His heart beats faster when he catches her eyes and she nods her head at him, a breathtaking smile on her face.

He doesn't know why he does it- nor does he know he's doing it until it's done- but he winks at her and mouths a thank you. Her cheeks flame with a blush and her doe eyes widen again before she scurries back into the kitchen. Picking up a fry, Sweet Pea just laughs to himself.

However, those, too, are quick to end. What is he doing? Flirting with a northern girl? That's not only a death sentence for himself but for her as well. But why would that even matter? He doesn't care about her. He'll never care about her. He can't care about her. He talks himself out of it, or at least he tries his hardest to. In the back of his mind, though, he can still see her eyes.

Sweet Pea runs another agitated hand through his hair, glancing out the window and into the night. Beyond the red glow of the diner the stars are shining brightly. Of course, that brings his mind back to the waitress. He sighs to himself, clenching his jaw as his heart thumps much too hard. Nothing is working; this is hopeless.

"Uh," the same melodic voice brings his attention to the same pretty girl who stands once more in front of his booth, "so I'm on my break and I was wondering if I could sit here. I wouldn't bother you or anything I just- this booth has the best view."

Sweet Pea raises an eyebrow at her request but nonetheless answers, "If you want."

"Thanks!"

With that the girl slides into the other side of the red leather booth and leans her head on the window. Sweet Pea watches with visible amusement as she starts tapping out a sporadic rhythm on the table top, wondering where her mind is at this very moment. His is on her, the spotlight now fully shining over the northsider. He can feel the smile coming back again but doesn't bother to hide it this time. Something about her makes him ready to do anything to make her laugh- or to even just make sure she keeps tapping to her own little beat- but he doesn't know why.

"Thank you for the milkshake. Made my night." The words are out of his lips before he can stop them, a light blush to accompany them on his cheeks.

Her head bounces up, the smile already on her lips, "you looked like you needed it. And I finally found where Pop hid the licorice from me!"

This time he laughs out right. He can't help it, the girl is too innocent and beautiful to not lose himself in the moment. He wants to deny the connection that he feels with her, and northside girl, but he can't anymore.

"Why'd he do that?"

She runs a hand over her face, yawning before answering, "because I had a bad habit of giving them to all the little kids who came in here. I couldn't help it! They were so dang cute!"

Sweet Pea watches as she leans her head on the window again, closing her eyes for a moment. She looks as tired as he feels, striking a protective nerve in him. Maybe that's why he pushes his fries towards her. He's not that hungry and he'd rather she ate something. She looks like she could use the energy.

She looks like she's about to protest but Sweet Pea cuts her off, "just eat them, baby."

Her eyes widen but she takes them anyway. In the silence, Sweet Pea takes the time to close his eyes and take a breath. His face is killing him and he knows his knuckles aren't looking much better. He's exhausted but it's not like going home will give him any solace. He has more responsibility there than anywhere else. He just wants to escape for a minute.

"Are you okay?" Her sweet voice- now laced with worry- washes over him.

Sweet Pea glances at the girl sitting across from him. Her eyes look concerned, trained on the purple bruise under his eye. She reaches over the table, her fingertips brushing her over the mark on his face. He holds his breath, his eyes never leaving her as she traces her soft fingers on his skin.

"I'm okay. It doesn't matter anyway." He gently grabs her hand, placing it back on the table.

He wanted her to keep her hand there- he really did- but she had to move it. She can’t get attached to him. He can’t let her.

"Yes it does," the waitress sneakily pulls the strawberry milk towards her, stealing a sip, "you're hurt and that matters to me."

Sweet Pea smiles as he watches her drink his milkshake. If it was anyone else they'd be missing a few fingers by now but he sees the way her eyes sparkle with humour and delight as she sneaks sips. It's adorable. He hates it. Well, he wants to hate it.

"You don't even know my name," he pops one of the cherries into his mouth, winking at her if only to see her burst into color again.

"That's an easy solution," she wiggles her way out of the booth and stands in front of him for the third time that night, much to his amusement, "hi, I'm y/n! What's your name?"

He leans back, stretching his arms across the back of the booth as he takes her in. A yellow Pop's t-shirt, a pair of yellow rubber boots, and two shining eyes. There's no way he can deny the way his heart beats faster looking at her wide smile. He reaches a large hand out, taking her smaller one and shaking it once.

"Sweet Pea. Just call me Sweet Pea."

She giggles and nods her head, causing butterflies to erupt in his chest. She glances to the clock on the wall and lets go of his hand quickly.

"Crap! I'm back on! Hey, I'll catch you around soon I hope. I work Fridays! Bye Sweets!"

He shakes his head, the mirth clear in his eyes, as she scrambles to get back behind the counter. With that he stands up, shooting her one last smile, before walking back into the darkness that abides in Riverdale. He'll deny it to anyone who asks but he knows he'll be back next Friday.

[shirophantomvox]

First Date with Chrollo (Human Diary)

Hello everyone! I am back with another “First Date” post featuring the Prince of Darkness. This was an anon post but I can't find the ask anywhere! I have been watching JoJo’s Bizarre Adventures lately and it is a very interesting show. Dio turned into a zombie and he’s so mean to Joseph. Anyway, let’s get into the post. The end is a bit angst-y but I did that to take a slight turn from all Fluff. I hope you enjoy! Part 2 coming sometime this week.m

It is common knowledge that Chrollo loves to read many books. When he was a child, he had time to read and that provided a great source of comfort. Although he seems to be ruthless, every human has the ability to seek compatibility and compassion. Both Hisoka and Chrollo enjoy the romance genre except Hisoka prefers to watch movies while Chrollo loves to read stories. You've known Chrollo since elementary school. You were fortunate enough to be able to move out of Meteor City and attend a better elementary school. As a child, you were an outcast and made few friends but on occasion, Chrollo would see you at a local arcade. Of course, your mother paid for the both of you to have fun but once it was over, it broke your heart because you knew about the conditions he’d return to once he left.

As time went on, you entered college and decided to invite Chrollo on campus so he could be something like a driving force for future success. You’ve been accepted into Yorknew University planning on majoring in Computer Science with a minor in Digital Art. Reaching Chrollo posed a challenge. He never responded to a few messages but on the third try, he answered with an excited response.

“Please forgive me y/n for not responding soon enough. I am more than happy to visit you. I am proud of you and your accomplishments. I do not see myself as a college man but, hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it right? I’ll be in touch.”

-Chrollo

At exactly 7 PM on a calm Fall night, standing outside of the campus’ most prominent book store, you began to sweat and your makeup began to drip. Just as you were about to wipe it off, you heard a voice call your name.

“Y/n? Is that you?” He chuckled as he questioned your appearance.

Turning around, you jumped a little at the sight before you. This wasn’t the same Chrollo you remember, of course. He had grown several feet, his face was much sharper, his arms were much bigger, had a bandana tied on his forehead, and he had a few rings on. He was dressed in a white polo shirt, black pressed slacks and black dress shoes. It’s weird. It felt like an arrow was shot through your heart.

“Are you ok? You act as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m fine! I’m just---You--look…”

“Ah, I see. There’s no need to be flustered. I am the same as when we were kids.”

The Yorknew Sailor Store was designed something exactly like a Barnes and Noble except the walls were painted to match the school’s colors.

The bookstore had a perfectly designed Starbucks, with a wooden finish, black and brown metal tables, beige tile floor, and glass doors.

Chrollo immediately noticed the change in behavior, one he wasn’t used to.

The students were snooty according to him and reminded him of how the city council would act towards him, his family, and those who were like him.

First, you offered to buy him a drink. The good thing about Chrollo is that if you or anyone else offers to buy something, He will not reject it. There is no such thing as having too much pride regarding him.

“Do you drink coffee?”

“Of course I do,” he replied. “But I don’t think I’ve had any of these drinks. A Caramel Macchiato? That sounds good.”

“Order it then! That will give you just the right amount of energy for today’s reading!”

To you, this was just two friends reuniting with each other but something else told you that Chrollo thought it was something more. He only dressed up like this if he was going out with someone special and even then it wasn’t an expensive Polo Short, It was his best t-shirt and jeans.

It boggles your mind how Chrollo acquired his expensive clothing but maybe he obtained a great job and is able to make a living for himself.

“I’d like to order a Caramel Macchiato.”

“What’s the name for this drink?”

“Chrollo,” you responded.

“And for you?”

“I would like a caramel Frappuccino with soy milk and no whip cream.”

“Alright. That’ll be $15.00.”

Chrollo glanced at you wide-eyed.

“It’s ok. I got it.”

You take out your card to pay and as you move out of line you bend over to whisper in his ear. “Maybe you can pay for dinner though.”

He laughed and smiled. “Of course, y/n.”

The bookstore was full of comfortable furniture ranging from light blue, dark blue, white in the lounge area. Both of you decided to sit across from each other on the blue chairs that swallowed you both as you sat.

As he read, he’d point out any interesting points in the book. He got tired of yelling across the table, so he decided to share a chair with you. He could feel the heat radiating from your body.

It was almost obvious that you all were involuntarily flirting with each other. The school was full of couples but occasionally seeing the goofy couple was the highlight of everyone’s day.

“This man was so devoted to a woman that does not know that he exists.”

“Sounds pointless,” you say, still trying to read your book.

“Well, she knows he exists but she is ignoring him and making him look like a fool in front of everyone. He says that there is something about her that he has never seen in any woman.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s her eyes, smile, intelligence, the shape of her lips, and her perfume powder aroma. Those are things that drive men wild.”

You smiled and laughed but came to a quick halt when you felt something along the ridge of your neck made you still. The hair on your neck stood up still as the invading force came in contact with your skin. It was Chrollo grazing his nose against your skin, slightly sniffing in your aroma; slowly breathing in and out.

Closing your eyes couldn’t make your sudden arousal fade. At this point, nearly everybody was looking at you both and looked away. This behavior was innocent for college culture, but it was taken as a cute gesture rather than naughty.

You blush. It was quite surprising that your childhood friend viewed you as something of the sort. It was both flattering and scary.

There’s no denying that Chrollo is handsome but if you dated him and the relationship didn't last, it could ruin your friendship.

At this point, Chrollo had his right arm resting lazily behind your back as his head and next aimed in a position that would allow his nose to lay carelessly on your neck.

“You smell delightful. I didn’t know you wore such expensive perfume. Is it….,” He sniffs again, “Flower Rose?”

“Yes! How did you know? Does your mother wear it?”

“She does now. I bought it for her a week ago and now the guys in the city can’t stay off her.”

Wow. The City. Even though it was a hell hole, it was your hell hole. How is everything? How is your mother? How did you manage to have such an expensive taste in clothing and fragrance?

Chrollo enjoys making others flustered. It's amusing to see them stutter when they’re either aroused or nervous.

On the flip side, seeing Chrollo flustered was the highlight of the century! The bad guys are used to being “bad” but expressing softer emotions makes it amazing and a reminder that they can experience them too.

Grabbing Chrollo’s left hand, you gently kiss it a few times and wink at him. He smiled, hiding his dumbfounded expression, and blushed slightly.

“I see you catch on quick.”

“I was raised in Meteor City. Just because I’m here doesn't mean I have forgotten where I come from. But I didn’t know you liked me.”

“You were the only one that trusted me and played with me when no one would.”

It felt like two magnets were pulling you closer. If he kissed you right here right now, you could just melt into a puddle but before anything happened, Chrollo’s phone rang loud and echoed throughout the bookstore.

Glancing at his phone, you saw an unknown number call, and judging from his actions he stood quickly to his feet.

“I’ll only be gone for a second.”

Hmm. That was odd. During this short intermission, you continue to read your book. Ironic enough, you weren’t into romance novels per se, you enjoyed action and comedy books!

Once Chrollo returned, his face was flushed and his soft demeanor had suddenly disappeared. He looked as if he was going to punch a wall.

“What’s wrong, Chrollo?”

He glanced at you with a somber smile, hoping to convince you that he was alright. “I am fine, y/n.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, if you count my mother being seriously injured, then yes.”

“Oh no! We can leave now, it’s fine.”

“No, it's ok. She wouldn’t want me to leave you all by yourself at this time of day.” He pointed to the night sky.

Wow! That was quick!

“What do you mean?”

“My mother predicted that I could end up with you...she also predicted that someone would be hurt or in danger if that prophecy was fulfilled. It’s sort of like give or take. In order to make someone happy, someone has to surrender their happiness and I guess it was her.”

A single tear dropped down his cheek and nothing more. He didn’t care if other men singled out his “weakness” because he’d destroy them all and he didn’t want y/n to know about his abilities until later.

The comfort of your warmth against his head provided more than comfort. He felt safe, welcomed, not judged, and vulnerable. He knew that you wouldn’t make him out to be a bad person but instead welcome him home with open arms. You were his human diary.

[sassyhobbits]

Guess I lied “Holding everything in doesn’t help, you know.” someone from the Cadre telling this to Fen and him breaking apart and crying and dying I want him to suffer

had to so this one. always happy to write about my boy fen!!! luv him

heres day 4!!!

~~~

“Are you sure you want to make that move?”

“Yes. No. Fuck. What’s wrong with this move?”

“Why the hell would I tell you? I’m trying to win.”

Aelin laughed at the stormy look on Fenrys’ face as his dark gaze studied the chess board before them intently. She knew he was determined to beat her for once. She had been on a winning streak lately.

Aelin settled in her seat before the fire, studying the board before them. It was a beautiful set, something she had bought Rowan for Yulemas the year before. Her husband loved the game, but loathed buying anything for himself. She knew he was pleased to have such a nice set, though he tried to play it casual. They played together at least one night a week. Rowan was terribly good at the game. Three hundred years of practice of both chess and military strategy had made him a truly formidable opponent. Aelin had yet to beat him, though she had been getting better.

Fenrys, however, she beat over half the time. Learning from Rowan had given her an edge.

The male across from her finally picked up a knight and moved it, capturing one of Aelin’s pawns that had been protecting her king. She raised a brow at him. “Really, Fenrys?”

“What? You were too well defended.”

Aelin tutted and shook her head. “Short-sighted once again, my friend.” She reached out and moved her queen on it diagonal, placing it down firmly and smirking at Fenrys. “Check mate.”

A slew of terribly, dirty curses streamed from Fenrys’ mouth as he knocked over his king. He shook his head, studying the board. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“I’ve always been good at keeping my schemes to myself,” Aelin shrugged. “That’s all chess is, anyway. Schemes.”

He cursed once more. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

Fenrys sighed, accepting his defeat, reaching over to the bottle of wine they had been working through and topping off both of their glasses.

Aelin enjoyed having her friend so close. Aedion, Lysandra, Elide and Lorcan visited Orynth when they could, though they were busy running their own territories. Dorian and Chaol were in Adarlan, Manon rebuilding the Witch Kingdom. Even Fenrys had been traveling until recently. She had truly missed her companion.

They spoke and joked between one another for a few more moments before the door to the parlor opened. Aelin recognized her mate’s scent without needing to look back, even beneath all the sweat.

She sensed his presence as he stopped by where she sat, tilting her head up and smiling at him. His silver hair was in disarray from training with the guards that evening, but his green eyes were bright as he looked to her and then to the board.

Her husband studied it with a general’s intent for a few moments before a smile curled on his lips, looking towards Aelin with pride glimmering in his eyes. Good job, Fireheart, he seemed to say before pressing a lingering kiss to her temple.

Aelin’s nose crinkled at the smell of him. “You, husband mine, are in desperate need of a bath.”

“I agree,” Fenrys added. “My eyes are watering.”

Rowan looked to him dryly, though it held no venom at the younger male’s teasing.

Aelin began asking him about how the training had gone. They had a recent surge of new recruits and though many of them had potential, they were rough around the edges. Aelin knew that if anyone could whip them into shape, it would be Rowan.

Aelin fell into the lull of conversation, and it wasn’t until a while later that she noted a strange quietness coming from across from her. Fenrys wasn’t one to hold his tongue for an extended period of time. She glanced away from Rowan, looking towards the male across from her. Fenrys’ face was somber, staring hard into the fire that made his dark skin glow. His brows were pinched together, lips pressed tight, eyes glazed. Somewhere far away.

Rowan followed her gaze, ceasing his report to study his comrade.

It took a few moments for Fenrys to recognize the sudden silence, blinking away the haunted look in his eyes before glancing towards the king and queen before him, as if he could feel their gazes.

Something in Aelin’s chest clenched. She knew what the look meant, had worn it herself plenty of times. Her head tilted to the side before asking softly, “Where did you go, my friend?”

The smile that slashed Fenrys’ face came just a fraction of a moment too late, confirming that whatever he had been remembering had shaken him more than he could admit.

“I’m just tired. Losing to you takes more energy than you would think,” Fenrys sighed, trying to muster some bravado into his voice, though Aelin saw right through it. “I think I’ll head off to bed.”

Aelin watched her friend warily as he pushed to his feet, nodding a brief farewell before heading towards the door. She glanced up at her husband, seeing a familiar look of concern on his handsome face. It was evident that the White Wolf of Doranelle was not alright.

…

Once Fenrys deemed himself an appropriate distance from where the king and queen sat in the parlor, he allowed himself to let go. His shoulders curved in, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he rested his back against a cool stone wall and hung his head in his hands.

Everything had been going well. He had spent the day assisting his queen with her duties while Rowan worked with the guards. He was fine through dinner, through their game of chess. Maybe it was because he had kept himself thoroughly distracted but… when he had let his mind quiet, even for a moment, he had felt himself drift away.

One moment he was laughing and teasing with Aelin, a smile lighting the queen’s face. The next, he heard echoes of her screams of agony, flashes of Cairn carving her up bit by bit while he had to sit aside and do nothing. Once he started, he couldn’t stop, spiraling down into the darkest part of his memories: Aelin sobbing in that iron coffin, the sight of Connall spilling his own blood, the feel of Maeve’s cold, pale hands on his body.

It happened from time to time. The memories getting the better of him. He always tried to play it off to the best of his abilities, making himself flash an easy smile to hide the vulnerability. He knew that the others suffered from similar afflictions, knew his queen was still haunted by nightmares. There were nights when he would wake to a knock on his door only to find Aelin standing on the other side, eyes hollow in a way Fenrys recognized. Sometimes she would talk about it, others she would just sit silently in his presence. The only person who truly had an inkling of what she had suffered for those two months. He knew Rowan still feared losing his mate, still saw the flash of panic in his eyes when he couldn’t find her in the sprawling palace, even though she was always safe and content. It was just… difficult to shake off those feelings.

And yet… Fenrys never wanted to burden his already burdened friends with his own troubles. He knew they would protest that description. Burden. They wouldn’t feel that way about it but… he did.

Fenrys was lost in his thoughts, all of them dark and swirling like a storm through his head. It distracted him enough that he hadn’t noticed anyone approaching until the purposeful scuff of a boot over stone caught his attention.

Fenrys raised his head, finding Rowan standing before him, green eyes studying him carefully. He stood straighter, forcing a wobbly smile to his lips.

“You miss me already?” Fenrys said, though his voice betrayed him, crackling towards the end.

Rowan’s expression turned sympathetic, a look Fenrys had never seen on his commander’s face until he had met Aelin. He stood a step closer.

“You doing alright there, pup?”

Fenrys shrugged, still trying to hold on to some semblance of nonchalance. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Rowan didn’t press him right away, sliding his hands into the pockets of his dirty trousers. “Your quick departure made my wife quite worried about you.”

“Aelin has enough on her plate. She doesn’t need to worry about me too.”

“I’m worried about you as well, Fenrys.”

Fenrys blinked, sure he had heard the king consort incorrectly. Rowan had certainly warmed up since he fell in love with Aelin, but he was still rather stoic most of the time. He saved most of his compassion for the woman he loved. Rowan wasn’t cruel to Fenrys, he never had been. Though he was a massive bastard and a pain in his ass once upon a time but… he had never reached out like this.

It seemed that Rowan took his stunned silence as a cue to continue.

“You try to hide it, but I can see it in your eyes. The pain.” Rowan’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. “I did the same thing for years.”

“Yeah, but you took it out on the rest of us poor soul.”

Rowan gave a dry chuckle. “That I did. But you know what helped me heal?”

“Bedding your stunning wife?”

Rowan smacked him softly on the side of the head. Rightly deserved, Fenrys knew. He was being immature.

“I’m serious, boyo,” Rowan said lowly. “I didn’t start coming out of that darkness until I started opening up. Talking. Confiding in people who knew what I felt and what I had gone through.”

Fenrys rubbed at his eyes before rasping, “I don’t know where to start. I don’t want to burden you. Burden Aelin.”

“Aelin loves you,” Rowan said plainly. “She would never feel burdened if you reached out to her. You’re her friend. You’re my friend too, Fen. We’re always going to be here for you.”

Fenrys nodded, not trusting that his voice wouldn’t fail him. He was grateful for the friends, family, and support he had found in the recent years. This life that he had now… he wouldn’t give it up for anything.

He was silent for a few more moments, simply looking down at his boots and trying to banish the lump clogged in his throat. Rowan, the perceptive bastard, simply cocked his head to the side and met his gaze.

“Holding everything in doesn’t help, you know.”

It was with those words that Fenrys broke. The tears began falling freely down his cheeks, blurring his vision.

“There are moments where I forget where I am,” Fenrys confessed. “When I get so lost in the worst of the memories that I fear there’s no way out. I don’t know how to escape, how to be free of it. At times, I feel like I’m drowning.”

Fenrys didn’t bother to try and smother the tears, the shaking breaths he took. He knew Rowan was right. Holding everything in certainly didn’t help. He wasn’t sure if crying in the halls of Orynth would do much either but-

His train of thought was brought to an abrupt halt when he felt arms wrapped around him. Fenrys blinked once, sure he was hallucinating. But no. It was real. Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius was actually hugging him.

He was frozen for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Some older part of him hissed that it was a trick, that the moment he let his guard down Rowan would put him in a headlock as part of a training exercise. But, Fenrys also knew that the cold and calculating commander of his past was no more.

Slowly, Fenrys reached up and returned the embrace.

For a few moments, neither of them said anything, until Fenrys whispered, “Thank you, brother.”

Another few heartbeats passed before Fenrys felt another pair of arms wrap around his torso from behind, the scent of jasmine and ashes tickling his nose. Aelin.

“You were snooping that entire time, weren’t you?” Fenrys asked with a tiny laugh.

“Of course I was,” the queen mumbled against his back. “How else am I supposed to stay three steps ahead of everyone if I don’t snoop?”

Fenrys chuckled lightly, already feeling lighter than he had before. He was a lucky bastard to have such friendship and support in his life. And, although he was still healing, he knew they were as well.

They would find the path to the light. Together.

[murderslugs]

Slasher Bf/Gf Scenarios/Imagines! || Meeting Them

Jason Voorhees (Friday The 13th)

You were out with friends, and it was getting awfully late. But still, there you were, with a flashlight and a backpack with a first-aid kit, some snacks, and water in it, just in case, walking through the abandoned camping trail with your friends. You guys had grown up in a town not too far away from the little old camp, and you’d heard all the stories that surrounded the place. For years you had just dismissed it, you all had passed it off as a local legend or rumor, but still there was a little spark of curiosity. Of course, this is what led you to where you reside now, exploring the camp in search of something peculiar, maybe a story to tell.

“Maybe we should go home...It’s late and I’m not feeling well..” your friend, Ruby, said wearily. It was true, you could see the illness in her dark, drooping eyelids. “Oh, bullshit! You’re fine, just drink some water and go throw up on a tree or something!” another friend yelled out. You just rolled your eyes. “Shut up! She doesn’t look too good, Otis! I think I should bring her back to the car to sit down.” You said with concern. To the dismay and groaning of the group, they let you and Ruby on your way back down the trail and to the car while they continued down the path. 

As you made your way to the car, Ruby fell close behind in your steps. Your flashlight flickered continually, and then suddenly gave out; leaving you two in the dark, and the pale moon barely illuminating through the trees above you. “Shit,” you muttered to yourself, hitting the battery pack to the light repeatedly. “Stop, quiet,” Ruby whisper-shouted. That’s when you heard the rustling of the branches getting closer. Closer. Closer. “Maybe we shou…” You turn around, to see Ruby gone. 

“Ruby? Ruby?!” You shouted out, to no response. You turned frantically, searching for any sign of her presence. A large man in a ski mask and an old, ruined jacket stood before you, silent. Before you could turn to run or get around him, you felt a sudden pressure on the side of your head, and then you saw black.

Michael Myers (Halloween)

It was Halloween night, and you were home from college for fall break. Your mom insisted that you took your younger sister trick-or-treating, even though you refuted that she was 12 years old, and could handle herself. So, you just took her block to block instead and sat on the corner of the street for her to walk down to the other end and get to all the houses. It was a small town, so there were never really concerns about kidnapping and such. It was just never a problem, you guess. 

“Go, Riley. You’re a big kid, you can go down the street.” You groaned, tired of her constant whining. “But (y/nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn), It’s dark down there!! There’s not a street light at the end!!” she whined insistently. You sighed heavily and pulled your phone out of your pocket. “Here. You can use the flashlight on my phone, just don’t snoop through my info.” You told her, handing over the old smartphone, and pulling a pumpkin-shaped sucker from her trick-or-treat bag. “You owe me this.” 

You unwrapped the cheap candy and popped it into your mouth, leaning on the house fence as your sister skipped down the sidewalk. The leaves rustled in the trees, and suddenly you heard footsteps behind you, and whipped around to see who it was. It was on the quieter side of town, and it was getting late. This meant that there shouldn’t be many people out, so there shouldn’t be someone behind you. But still, you came face-to-chest with a tall man in a dark blue jump-suit type outfit, and a white mask. You panicked, and thought quickly about how to fight back. Unfortunately, he seemed to be faster than you, and your mouth was covered as you were picked up and carried off into the darkness, legs kicking uselessly. 

Carrie White (Carrie)

You were at the library when you saw a pale girl browsing through the young adult fantasy section. You observed her actions, as she readjusted her dress and collar. She carefully picked a book from the shelf and flipped it to the back to read the description. You saw a flash of the cover, and realized it was one of your favorite series, Chronicles of Narnia. You hesitated but stepped forward in a bit of excitement.

“That’s a good one, I, um, really recommend checking it out.” You told her with a smile, and she looked up, seemingly a bit taken aback. You realized this, and took a step back to give her space. “Sorry, didn’t mean to alarm you...I’m (y/n).” You stuck out your hand, and she just looked down at it, book in hand. “Carrie...Sorry, mama never liked me talking to strangers…” “No, no, it’s okay, I underst-” “No, it’s okay...She’s been gone a while now.” She looked down. 

You stood awkwardly, feeling a bit bad now. “You seem kind enough. I’ve got to go, but we can talk again another time. I come here every Sunday, around noon.” Carrie said quietly, smiling softly and turning, taking Narnia with her. You sat to yourself, a bit confused about the interaction. You shook your head and carried on. “Next Sunday it is,” You thought to yourself.

Jennifer Check (Jennifer's Body)

There was a new girl at school, as you had heard. How could you not have when everyone was talking about it? She had moved here recently after some sort of tragedy occured, or so you’d heard. It was rumored that she had to have surgery cause someone tried to kill her, she was all stabbed up and shit and nearly bled out. You can’t imagine how awful that would be, and you kept thinking about how she probably came here for a new start, and wouldn’t want people asking about it, but you knew it would happen anyways.

It was 3rd period, Anatomy, when a girl you’d never seen before walked into the classroom. This, of course, must have been the new girl. She was absolutely glowing, even from afar. Her hair was voluminous, rich, and dark, her skin was clear and shiny, her eyes were sharp and bright. It took your breath away trying to take in the sight. The girl’s heels clicked as she trailed to the back of the classroom, to where you were. She sat beside you, at the lab table. 

You tried not to look at her, after all, you didn’t want to seem weird. You looked at the floor and over to her shoes. A few drips of a thick, crimson substance were on the floor beneath her, seemingly originating from her shoe. You wondered for a moment if she was hurt. Or, could she have hurt someone else..? It scared you a bit to think about the second option. God knows this school didn’t need another bully, or anything worse than it.

You were tranced, stuck in your own looming dark thoughts, when a velvet voice came to your ears. You snapped your glance up from the floor, to see the girl looking at you, specifically. To your dismay, blood rushed to your face out of embarrassment. “I’m Jennifer. Do you have a pen I can use?”

Billy Loomis (Scream)

You were in your brand new house, you had moved out and into the next town over from your parents. You wanted to be further away, but you knew that your mom would be upset, she was always so protective. She even said that she expected you to come visit her on the weekends. The relationship was a bit exhausting sometimes. But now, you were in your own house, and it was great. You could decorate it however you wanted, you could have whoever you wanted over, you could do basically whatever.

Though, for now, you decided to just make some off-brand pizza rolls and blare some music, maybe even dance around a little bit. Season Of The Witch by Donovan was playing on your stereo when suddenly your phone rang. You paused the music, and quickly answered. Normally, you would check the caller ID, but you were in a good mood and it completely slipped your mind. I mean, who cares if it's a scam caller? You can just hang up. To your surprise, it wasn’t a familiar voice, but didn’t seem to be a scam-caller. Maybe a wrong number? 

“Do you like scary movies?” The other line said. You were suspicious, and for a second you considered that maybe it was a survey. It didn’t seem to be a harmful question, so you replied, “Yeah, duh. If you don't, you're pretty lame.” You turned the music back on, but turned the volume down. He asked a few follow-up questions, and you gave your honest answers. You just strolled around the kitchen, occasionally checking the timer on your food so that it doesn’t burn. 

You had your phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder, and you had on oven mitts as you grabbed your pizza rolls from the oven. “What’s your name?” The caller suddenly asked. You paused for a second as you put the cooking sheet on the counter. “Why do you wanna know..” You asked cautiously. “Well, I wanna know the name of the cutie I’m looking at.” He said, and your heart damn near stopped. “Excuse me..?” You hung up and quickly ran to the doors, double-checking the locks and locking the windows and shutting the curtains. You grabbed a knife from the silverware drawer and locked yourself in your room, where you eventually fell asleep in the dark silence.

Thomas Hewitt (Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

You had just moved out to the country-side to start anew, planning to start a small farm and just live in peace on the quiet little land. Little did you know, you had neighbors across the field that weren’t exactly the type of neighbors that you could ask for a cup of sugar. You were hanging the new drapes for the windows after having taken the old ones down. They were old, dirty, ragged. Honestly, the old farmhouse was sort of let to rot for a while, and you knew it. It was cheap though, and you were up to the challenge. You decided that you would decorate it, clean it up, and make it like brand new, even with the little money that you had. 

As you were hanging the drapes, you kept looking out into the distance of the rolling fields outside the window, littered with patches of wild flowers in the grass. You fantasized about making gardens, maybe even building a little stable for a horse or two. It was a lovely thought; there was a small village a little while away from the farm that you could ride a horse to if you wanted. 

Though, some distance away in the field, you saw the figure of what looked to be a man wandering in the field. You weren’t too worried, as you had all the locks in place, it was the middle of the day, and he looked peaceful. So, you just forgot about it and went on fixing up your house, unpacking, and getting the rest of the things in place. Although you had been there about a week, you still understandably weren’t completely unpacked. 

A few hours later, you were doing a bit of drawing on the couch and taking some time to relax. That’s when you heard a thud on your door. Just a single thud, that’s all. Still, you had reason to be concerned, as you were sort of in the middle of the country and it was starting to set into the evening. You quietly walked to your bedroom and grabbed a shotgun from the closet that you kept for protection, a tradition in your family. You carried it with you as you checked the door. You looked through the thin peephole, but saw nothing. You opened the door to find a paper stuck to the door by a rusty hatchet, buried deep into the oak. Your heart rate spiked as you tore the note from the door and read it. “Welcome to the neighborhood, pretty person” was spelled in crude handwriting.

[sincerelystranger]

I just read both parts of your modern au and I wanna cry 😭 Lwj is just so whipped for wwx and I really loved it!!!! Do you plan on writing more?

More of the modern highschool AU! 

---

Wangji settles into bed and stares at the ceiling.

It’s rare that sleep evades him, but tonight, he feels strange and sad and his heart is too confused to let him fall asleep.

It’s the anniversary of his parents’ passing and it’s been a decade now since they passed and the pain of their loss is now more like a heavy ache on his shoulders and less like a sharp punch to the gut like it used to be – but that’s not the reason for his strange mood.

It’s silly and childish and a little bit mortifying but…

But he had to leave school early today to go visit his parents’ graves and because of that he hadn’t been able to walk home with Wei Ying…

It’s mortifying to feel upset about that – Wangji knows this. And he feels guilty for being more upset about losing out on his daily walk with Wei Ying than mourning the loss of his parents…

It’s just a walk…

Just…

Wangji’s phone buzzes suddenly on his desk.

Who could possibly be calling him this late? It must be spam. He’s tempted to ignore it but, perhaps due to his strange mood, he sighs and gets up to answer his phone.

He looks at his phone, fully prepared to press the ignore call button, but the name on the screen stops him.

Wei Ying.

He answers the phone quickly, his heart suddenly beating very loud in his chest.

“Hello?” he says hesitantly.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying greets cheerfully.

The strange sadness in Wangji’s chest immediately quiets at the sound of Wei Ying’s voice. He’s almost embarrassed for himself at how easy he is.

“Were you sleeping, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asks.

“No,” Lan Zhan answers, careful not to sound too eager.  

“Mm, that’s good,” Wei Ying says. The noise around him is loud, windy, it sounds like he’s outside.

“Are you outside?” Lan Zhan asks worriedly. It’s cold out and it’s supposed to snow tonight. Wei Ying should be inside! Warm and safe and inside!  

“I am!” Wei Ying says delightedly, and he laughs like it’s funny. “How did you know, Lan Zhan? Are you watching me?”

“Silly,” Wangji says, but he can’t help but smile. Wei Ying is always so quick to laugh. So easy to amuse. It’s charming and too cute for Wangji to endure sometimes. “Why are you outside? It’s cold.”

“I’m on an important mission, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says seriously, but it’s pointless because Wangji can hear the smile in his voice.

“Boring,” Wangji says, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Mean,” Wei Ying replies, but he sounds so fond that it makes Wangji’s ears go hot.

There’s a slight lull in their conversation. Wangji listens to the background noise on Wei Ying’s side and wracks his brain for things to say. He wants to keep this conversation going. He doesn’t want it to end. He wants Wei Ying to keep talking…

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, breaking Wangji from his internal dilemma, “hum that song for me – the one you wrote!”

“No,” Wangji says, feeling embarrassed. Wei Ying doesn’t know…

“Come on! Please!” Wei Ying whines, “I’m outside and it’s cold and listening to that song will be my only comfort.”

“Go inside,” Wangji replies.

“I can’t. I’m on a mission!” Wei Ying says.

“What is this mission?” Wangji asks.

“It’s a secret mission. Someone I care about is a bit sad today – I’m going to try to make them happy,” Wei Ying says, and Wangji feels a little bit... jealous? Who is this mission for? Why is Wei Ying calling Wangji if he’s on some secret mission for someone else…  

“Come on,” Wei Ying says again, “Hum that song for me, please?”

“You know the song as well as I do,” Wangji says softly, his ears growing hot again as he remembers how Wei Ying whistled it on his way out of the classroom. “You hum it.”

“I like it when you hum it,” Wei Ying says petulantly, “Besides, I had to walk home alone today and now I’m on this secret mission – braving the cold and the outside alone! Hum me the song, Lan Zhan – please~”

Wangji bites his lip and considers Wei Ying’s plights. If he’s honest with himself, he’s delighted that Wei Ying complained about walking home alone.

Maybe Wangji wasn’t the only one feeling sad about that…

Maybe Wei Ying missed him too…

Maybe he can indulge Wei Ying this once…

He starts humming the song, valiantly fighting against his own embarrassment at the situation.  He feels awfully silly humming his silly love song to Wei Ying as he sits in his room alone.

But if this is what Wei Ying wants…

Well, if Wangji is honest with himself, he’s never been able to deny Wei Ying anything anyway.

Wei Ying is quiet when Wangji finishes humming his song.

Wangji is quiet too, sitting in his strange emotion of embarrassment and pleasure. He counts the seconds that Wei Ying is quiet on the other end of the line.

One. Two. Three. Four.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says finally, and his voice is breathless.

“Mn?” Wangji hums, trying his best to sound calm and collected and not nervous at all.

“Lan Zhan, look outside of your window.”

Wangji stands and walks over to his window.

Wei Ying grins widely up at him, waving his arm wildly.

Wangji is speechless. He can’t do anything but stare. He thinks his mouth might be open in shock.

“Aren’t you happy to see me, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asks through the phone, and only then does Wangji have the sense to open the window.

“What are you doing here?” Wangji asks, still through the phone, because his room is on the second floor, and he’s sure that shouting down to Wei Ying will awaken his uncle.

“My secret mission,” Wei Ying says. He puts his hand into his jacket pocket and pulls something out. “I’m gonna throw this, okay? Make sure to catch it.”

Wangji is so lost and confused, but he nods. He puts his phone down on the window will and prepares to catch whatever Wei Ying is going to throw at him.

Wei Ying tosses the object up to him and Wangji catches it easily with both hands.

He brings his phone back to his ear as he inspects the object Wei Ying threw at him. It’s a small wooden box, it has legs and it looks like it would open.

“Open it,” Wei Ying says.

Wangji opens it carefully, his eyes on Wei Ying the entire time.

Tinkling music starts to play. One note after the other a familiar melody takes shape.

“I had to guess the notes so it might not be perfect,” Wei Ying says.

Wangji’s heart feels in danger of bursting. His eyes burn and his throat aches. “It’s perfect,” he says softly. He closes it suddenly, because he thinks that if he hears anymore he really might cry.

“You wrote a really good song, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, smiling up at Wangji. His cheeks are red from the cold and his eyes are sparkling and… “I hope it brings you as much comfort as it brings me.”

“Mn,” Wangji nods. He holds the little music box tightly in his hand, feeling so overwhelmed and so undeserving that he aches. He feels too big for his skin and he almost wants to jump out of this window and…

“Okay, mission completed!” Wei Ying laughs. He waves at Wangji again. “Goodnight, Lan Zhan!”

“Goodnight,” Wangji replies, still feeling shell-shocked.

Wei Ying ends their call and puts his phone into his pocket. He smiles widely one more time and turns to leave.

“Wait!” Wangji yells suddenly – not caring if it wakes his uncle or not.

Wei Ying turns to look up at him in confusion.

Wangji runs to his closet and pulls out his scarf. He hurriedly throws it down to Wei Ying.

Wei Ying catches it and wraps it around his neck. He winks at Wangji and turns to leave again.

“I love you,” Wangji says quietly, watching Wei Ying as he jumps over the fence. “I love you.”

Wei Ying turns around when he hits the street and waves to Wangji again.

Wangji waves back.

“I love you.”