#but i have no idea where to find that in the books and cannot be bothered to look

[dnd-smash-pass-vs]

Inevitable been thinking about how that one anon viewed Laios as a monsterfucker, and I think it made me realize the source of that confusion:

I think many monsterfuckers, and also many (dare I say most) monster devourers like Laios, both derive their desire from the same source: a latent wish for apoteratosis, the wish to become a monster.

Linguistic side note: apotheosis, becoming a god, breaks down to apo- (towards the end point), theo (god), -osis (turn noun into verb), so I swapped in the root for monster, hence apo- terato -osis. Side note over.

Monster devourers are a rather rare archetype in (mainstream) fiction, but they do exist. Those who seek to mimic or emulate the monster's power, those who find them endlessly fascinating and study them well past the point of obsession, those who wish to show their dominance over the monster by proving that they can kill and eat it... and I think Laios is the first I've seen who takes the title quite so literally, where his obsession goes straight to monsters-as-food.

Monsterfuckers, meanwhile wish to become close to the monster in a non destructive way (or at least a typically less destructive one, usually the only casualties are furniture and few bandages are needed, but I'll acknowledge that exceptions definitely exist). They wish to bond with it, to connect to it through lust or intimacy, to be able to stand at its side. They wish, on some level, to join it. Side note, I'm not saying this is true of all teratophiles, some are just kinky and driven by the thought of positive physical pleasure, or who find the personality of a given monster appealing, but I do think the apoteratotic desire is an underlying driver for many, I'd guess well more than half, it's just a subtle enough thing that I don't think most are consciously aware of it.

There's also a third point to the secret apoteratosis triangle that might surprise you: the monster slayer. Sure many, even most, slayers are driven by something like disgust or xenophobia or even rationality, but a significant minority land in the "if you can't join 'em, beat 'em" a.k.a. "I can't be you, so I'll destroy you" camp.

And these three reactions are, I notice, the three most common reactions that people have to one thing: the unattainable desire. The sentence begins "I cannot have it..." and these three camps end it different ways.

The teratophages say "so I shall dominate it." They seek what power they can grasp so they can have some modicum of control, so they can try to "have" it anyway. The kaiju corpse scavengers in Pacific Rim including refined and suave mob boss types just smacks of this attitude.

The teratophiles say "so I'll get as close as I can." There's a werewolf romance book where they're considering trying to turn the girlfriend, though they have no idea if she'll survive it (boyfriend was turned by accident then abandoned, so he's clueless, and they haven't found any others to teach them), and she says that she's fine remaining human, because she shares the power through him. "I have it, because you have it." The façade eventually breaks and in a vulnerable moment she confesses that she'd be willing to risk even a likely death to try to be turned. When they get in contact with an elder who can turn her safely she doesn't even wait a week.

The teratophobes write that whole sentence as "if I can't have it, then no one can." I'm sure everyone has seen enough examples of this behavior to understand that it's just a kind of love turned corrupt.

I'm not the first to notice the underlying apoteratotic urge: the aforementioned werewolf story, indeed many werewolf and vampire stories romanticize the transformation of a human into a monster. Back to Dungeon Meshi, author Ryōko Kui is fully aware of it with how Laios's underlying desire is eventually brought out of the subtext and explicitly named as his dysphoria with humanity, and his wishing that he could be a monster. For Laios that desire skipped right past the socially unacceptable monsterfucking, explicitly a form of bestiality in that world, to the socially acceptable devouring, though tempered by his respect and admiration of monsters into a desire for symbiosis with them. He cannot become one in truth (or so he thought when younger) but he could become part of their food web. It's as close as he thought he could get. Of course, that's the Watsonian explanation; the Doylist explanation is that Ryōko Kui wanted to subvert expectations, and also wanted to explore this angle of it.

So, all taken together, I think people read Laios as monsterfucker coded simply because teratophiles, teratophages, and teratophobes all share the same root motivation: apoteratosis. Thus, all three branches are coded very similarly.

It's similar to something I've seen in Batman fandom: some fans project romantic love between various members of the Batfamily, which is both wildly against canon and thoroughly hated by some other branches of fandom. But it is understandable, since familial love and romantic love both come from the same root, love of another. If someone doesn't recognize the simultaneous similarities and distinctions, it's all to easy to conflate them. If you don't actually understand the distinction, then the signs of affection between siblings might look the same as the signs of affection between lovers. Likewise, if you don't understand the distinction, the urge of the monster devourers (or ecologists) might look the same as the urge of the monster fucker.

I've sat on this for near a month, partially because of my repeated absences, partially because I wanted to honor it with an equally in-depth response. But 24 days later I've still got nothing, while I can't speak for that particular person I think in general you hit the nail right on the head. I got no notes. Even with Laios...like all I can add is how supplemental materials actually confirm he did want to be a monster researcher but found books too dry, the only one who seemed to really *get* monsters was shunned. and how wild he goes when talking with an actual werewolf, "The existence I thought unobtainable is now right in front of me".

[foreos]

the bad kids rated by how much they would like sonic the hedgehog

a sequel to my hatchetfield version

- riz gukgak: 1/10 i don’t think riz even touches video games. i can’t imagine riz having any strong media interests because his life is so busy all the time so i doubt he would think about sonic the hedgehog at all. if he ever played a sonic game though i think he’d be like unnaturally good at it because he’s got great reaction times and it’s not hard for him to intuit what the best routes are. he’d probably only play in like a social situation though.

- kristen applebees: 10/10 kristen grew up playing sonic games with her brothers and she likes them. sonic is very very good for adhd brains and i think she likes running around really really fast. fucking AWFUL at the games though she has a dexterity score of four. she has never passed a quicktime prompt in her life but that does not stop her from booting up the games and playing the first three or so levels. doesn’t really engage with the media past the games but that’s just because if she had a comic book she’d lose it and while she watched some of the cartoons as a kid, it’s been a long time. probably hasn’t played in years.

- adaine abernant: 10/10 she did not know what sonic was until freshman year and at first she did not see the appeal. she’s never been allowed plain and stupid fun in her entire life and when confronted with it she’s just like…why? but i think as time passes i could actually see adaine really fucking enjoying it if she decided to suspend her disbelief and embrace it. i think in another timeline adaine is much geekier but much like the other bad kids she currently does not have time for that. there’s an alternate universe where adaine is a comic book nerd with sonic opinions but i don’t think any of us are ready for that. there’s probably other franchises she would possibly like better but i think she could get really into it.

- gorgug thistlespring: 0/10 video games frustrate him. his fingers are too big for the buttons and sonic moves way too fast. like kristen he cannot get past the first few levels and so he and sonic don’t really see eye to eye. he wouldn’t say he hates the guy or has anything against the franchise but he would probably rather do, like, anything else.

- fig faeth: 10000/10 i think fig would like it. while it does not match her aesthetic i think she definitely grew up with sonic games as a kid and is pretty good at them. definitely had to beat video game levels for gilear growing up. as i said earlier with kristen, sonic is very good for adhd brain and i think she likes to build as much speed as she can, plus sonic music is fucking dope and i think fig is a fan of stupid fun. sometimes fig finds herself wishing that he would go even faster, though.

- fabian seacaster: -100000/10 he’s scared of rodents and obsessed with being cool fabian does not like sonic. yes, i know sonic is not a rodent but like. fabian does not care that is a walking talking blue rat with one weird eyeball that has two pupils and he is wearing NO clothes. plus, sonic is considered deeply lame by the general public, especially high schoolers, so fabian would not be caught dead in even the same room where sonic-related activities are occurring. fabian goes out of his way to avoid any and all sonic media, which is a shame because when fabian was a kid bill seacaster impulsively bought Every Video Game so there’s probably a completed sonic collection somewhere in fabian’s house. like i think fabian owns sonic chronicles and tails’s sky patrol and sonic labyrinth and he has no idea. in another life fabian is a shadow fan.

BONUS:

- ragh barkrock: 1/10, like gorgug and riz he’s just not really a video game guy.

- ayda aguefort: 1000000000/10 she would fucking love it. she would love it so so so much. much like adaine i think ayda would be extremely geeky in another, less stressful life and i think if fig introduced her to it she would be all fucking in. comics tv shows video games, all of it. i think ayda would eat that shit up.

- cassandra: 10/10 blaze reminds her of kalina and she thinks it’s fun and i am desperate for cassandra to have fun.

- aelwyn: 0/10 absolutely not. she agrees with fabian that sonic is creepy and should wear clothes. she tries not to think about it, ever.

[ahollowgrave]

An Exercise in Trust [Part One]

This takes place shortly following the first dungeon of Shadowbringers, Holminster Switch. A conversation between the scion Prudence Dubois and the Warrior of Light Odette Hollows.

“I don’t trust him,” Prudence’s voice is a dry rasp, like the pages of a book being turned, emphasized by her pacing. Step, step, step, turn. Step, step step, turn. “He doesn’t show us the work, he just says you’ll be fine. How the fuck would he know? He blindly groped all about our star for you and knocked all of us out of our bodies. That,” Her boot heel struck the ground, “Is not a careful man. We shouldn’t trust a careless man with you. Urianger is the one with the vision, surely we can figure it out.”

You do not answer immediately, listening to the sound of her pacing. You lay on the bed of your shared room, legs draped over the side of the mattress, an arm thrown over your eyes that doesn’t help. Hours ago you scattered the aether of a Lightwarden and returned the night sky to Lakeland. To see your Lady’s radiant face returned to the heavens of this world had brought you first to tears and then your knees. But when you closed your eyes to pray the perfect darkness that lay behind your lids was instead foul, burning light.

You cannot stop closing your eyes, like poking a bruise or picking a scab.

Prudence kicks your leg once then twice and then once more. She’s certainly kicked you harder before, and the idea that she may be holding back makes you warm.

“Are you even listening?” A cutting tone there, like the edge of paper.

“I am, I am,” you assured, hearing your fondness shape the words into something softer, coaxing the same from her.

It works. You hear only a sigh in response. Then Prudence’s weight settles onto the bed beside you; never near enough to touch but your body tips toward her’s. She draws in a deep breath trying to find her patience again.

“I want the witch to look at you. Before you eat another one. She’s right not to trust this Exarch, you know.” She spits the title like a curse.

“I didn’t eat it, Prudence,” You scrub your palms against your eyelids. The bright light trapped behind them is spotted through with blessed black where you press.

Prudence is quiet but you can feel her stare. The weight of its regard; annoyance and concern in equal measure. Relief that it isn’t her. Judgement because she thinks she could do this better.

Everyone thinks they can do it better, none of them want to try.

You continue: “We may not have the time for that. I’m not even sure where Y’shtola is,” Prudence clucked at the name. You finally opened your eyes, banishing the light again, and turned to behold the Ishgardian beside you. Prudence stared down at you, unblinking, brows drawn low in her customary disappointed expression. You cannot meet her gaze -- you can never meet anyone’s gaze -- but you are close enough.

It is easy to forget that she and the others have been here for a year or longer; waiting for your arrival. Prudence has never been one to sit still and she struggles now, a bird caged. From outside the window, you hear a crowd cheer and uproarious laughter. The Crystarium is still up, still enjoying the darkness of night. Prudence’s liquid dark eyes cut toward the sound and you feel a smile rise unbidden. You know whose laugh she seeks.

“Why don’t you go out? I’m sure the Captain is out there.” You sit up as you speak, bracing yourself on your elbows, “Neither of us are aether-ologists, we’ll have to wait for Urianger and Y’shtola to weigh in. You might as well enjoy the passage of time.”

Prudence snorted at the title and rolled her eyes at everything else. She rose to resume pacing. You flopped back onto the bed, prepared for a second round of discussion of topics far beyond your combined understanding. But no such discussion starts. Only your companion’s steps filled the air. Then:

“So, if Y’shtola says it’s dangerous, you’ll stop?”

“Stop?”

“Stop eating them. The light wardens.”

“I’m not eat--”

“You know what I mean.”

You stare at each other for a moment. You do know what she means, is the problem, and you know you cannot promise her. And yet --

“… If Y’shtola says it's dangerous, I’ll… stop.” Your hand is pinned against your leg, half tucked under the curve of your thigh, your fingers crossed.

The silence is long.

“Fine. I’m going out. Don’t wait up.” She’s at the door before you can sit up all the way. Your dead heart skips into life as it clicks shut behind her. However, before you can delight in the quiet, dread teases the nape of your neck, raising goosebumps. Your fingertips tremble as you strive to contain the sudden knowledge that this is a memory you will reflect on often.

You close your eyes as the tears fall, blinded by the light trapped behind your eyelids.

Someone else could do this better.

[aroaceleovaldez]

re: my recent Hazel posting. more of yall have got to start drawing Hazel as fat. make her chubby. make her stout. i can't keep doing this alone.

[rotzaprachim]

Reading retrospective 2023: books that feel like they should be catnip in every possible way and that I should love them deeply and that have no Obvious writerly sins and also, i can tell, objectively very good writing and worldbuilding/historical description but that for the life of me I can’t get past the midpoint of despite trying for literally years 

[daemour]

Pairing: roommate! San x f! yn

Word Count: 10,664

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, f2l au, college au, M for mature audiences

Summary: As the resident fuckboy San's best friend, you're legally obligated to be his hype man. It's only fitting as you're one of the few who can resist his boyish charms. But when he's set his sights on someone you cannot stand, perhaps you need to dig a bit deeper into your feelings after all.

Smut Warnings: masturbation (f), voyeurism, sexual fantasies, oral (f), missionary, protected sex, very slight breast play, overstimulation, cowgirl, some cumplay, dirty dirty talk, fingering, slight body worship ig?, praise, I literally have no idea I wrote it at a time when I should've been in bed so lmk if I missed anything

-

this is for the jackson wang party fic collab finished with @mingsolo (hella good) @flurrys-creativity (Pygalgia, Effervescent, and Abience) and @sanjoongie (trouble) <3 I still have one more to go but we'll ignore that LMAOOOOO I added too much plot :') flurry was a dear and helped me sort out my thoughts and I managed to write 8k of it in one day lol.

hope u all enjoy and sorry I'm a professional yapper there's no shutting me up

“Going out again?” you ask your best friend and flatmate, San, as he walks past where you’re seated at the kitchen counter, suffering through your essays.

“Yep,” San answers easily, popping the ‘p’ and leaning over to take a peek at your laptop screen. “You misspelt ‘dextrorotatory’, you wrote it as ‘dexrotatory’.”

As your eyes find the typo, you groan and plant your head on the table. “I give up,” you declare dramatically, “I’ll drop out and become a taxi driver.”

San laughs. “First of all, you can’t drive that well. Second of all, you’d make more money as a stripper.” He dodges your smack with ease. “Third, you’re smart and you’ll ace these like always. You’re just a little mentally constipated. Why don’t you join me tonight?”

You think about it for a minute. While you probably do need a break from staring at your laptop, you know how wild the parties San goes to can get from personal experience. And you don’t think it’s a good idea when it's the end of your semester and the final year of your master's program. You just can’t afford to do that. “I’ll pass this time,” you sigh. “Maybe after exam season.”

San hums. “All right. Make sure to take a break, though,” he reminds you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “See you later.”

He soon disappears out of the door and you turn your focus away from your best friend to your homework. You feel bad for whoever his new conquest will be at the party.

In your opinion, it’s best to keep San at arm’s length when it comes to a romantic relationship. Not that you like him, but you also don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost, and you most certainly do not want to ruin your eight-year-long friendship. It’s not hard to see that San isn’t interested in a long relationship, not right now at least.

You honestly find it amusing that so many girls and guys still throw themselves at him and then get upset when he doesn’t give them a second glance after the initial night. His reputation precedes him, especially in your small town, and yet there will always be a line out the door for him. You don’t even know how he knows so many people.

With a sigh, you clear out your thoughts and refocus on your organic chemistry work. You’re lucky your job offered to pay for your master's classes, but the workload is killing you inside. You’re incredibly happy you’re almost done, and with newfound motivation, you hunker down and start writing out your notes again.

It’s almost two in the morning when you finally yawn and start putting your books away, and it’s almost three when you hear the front door open and the sound of San stumbling into the shoe rack as he always does. “You’re home already, Sanah?”

“YN!” San stumbles his way into the bathroom where you’re combing your hair, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his flushed face into your neck. “You’re still up?”

You laugh, tapping him on the head with your brush. “Yes, but I’m about to go to bed. And you should too, you know.”

San groans, his hold on your waist tightening and his words slurring together. “I don’t wanna,” he whines, “the bed's too cold.”

You sigh fondly. This happens almost every time he drinks, and usually, that’s why he doesn’t drink too much when he’s by himself. He gets too cuddly with people and you’re usually the one to keep him from bedding everyone he sees.  You suppose he somehow didn’t end up with anyone in bed and he’s disappointed now. “Do you think you’ll ever ask to sleep with me nicely, or will you just settle for wrestle-cuddling me into my own bed?” you ask, rolling your eyes as San does not answer, just pulling you towards your room. “There’s my answer.”

You’re too used to his drunk antics and just let him move you around. It’s comforting in a way, that he’s comfortable enough around you to do this with you, and it makes your heart warm whenever he throws his arm around you and presses his face in your neck.

You’d never admit it, but it’s nights like this when you sleep the best. With his warm breath tickling your neck, you let your body relax and your eyes flutter shut.

-

“God, I’ve got a raging headache,” San groans when he sees you enter the kitchen with a mess of bed hair. “I went so crazy with the soju last night, I think I’m going to die.”

You laugh, reaching for the pot to make some oatmeal for him. “Don’t be so dramatic. Why did you even drink so much anyway? No bitches?”

San snorts but immediately whines from the sharp pain that probably shot through his skull. “You’re so mean to me! No, I got no bitches, but that was from my own choice anyway. I don’t want to fuck around anymore.”

Both your eyebrows raise into your hairline. “No? What changed things, hm? Finally decided your one true love is Byeol?” As if on cue, your shared cat meows and curls around your ankles, and you bend down to scratch behind her ears.

“Never had to decide that, we all know she’s the real number one in my life. No, I think I’m interested in someone.” You stop your petting of Byeol, who meows in protest and runs off to pout somewhere. “Come on, don’t act like you just saw a ghost.”

“Who?” is the only question that comes out of your mouth. Of course, San has had a crush before, but he’s never stopped screwing around unless he was actively dating that person. He’s a fuckboy, but he’s not a piece of shit at least. This is new.

“Lee Yeseul. I met her yesterday at the party, and she’s so sweet. She was so out of place at the party, and not in a mean way. She just…has such an aura around her.” San’s voice is soft even just talking about her and you get the feeling he’s being serious. “We’re meeting up for coffee today.”

“That’s…amazing, Sanah. I really hope it goes well for you,” you smile at him, pushing a bowl of oatmeal over to him. “Don’t forget to let me make a speech at your wedding.”

San chuckles, rolling his eyes at your jokes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have study group today? Go there and stop bothering me.”

You ruffle his messy hair before planting a kiss on it and pinching his cheek. He blindly reaches around to smack at you but you dodge him easily, laughing as you head out to grab your keys. “See you later, Sanah. Have a good da-ate.”

San grumbles at you but ultimately returns to his food. You think you can hear him muttering about you being a pain in the ass and you smile to yourself. You don’t have the heart to tell him you know Lee Yeseul…and she’s a major bitch. You sincerely hope she’s sweet to San at least—he deserves the best. But you find her absolutely draining, especially with how often she talks about herself and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else ever. If she cries in your class one more time you think you might smack her yourself.

You still remember the time you had gotten a call that your grandfather had died, and after overhearing your conversation, instead of comforting you, she started talking about how “so many of my family members died in the past ten years.” Sure, maybe she was trying, but you’ve known about her antics enough that it was clear she just wanted to make it about her.

But if San likes her, who are you to interfere? He has a pretty good eye for who has a good personality so maybe Yeseul has changed. You’re not one to stop him. Not that you ever could. When he first started going out to party, you would tag along to make sure he wouldn’t make any bad decisions, but your efforts seldom paid off. You’re pretty sure he must be blessed since he somehow hadn’t pissed off anyone majorly enough to have them call a hit on him.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of these thoughts and go to the library. There’s no use dwelling on it, the more you think about it, the worse your feeling about his crush on Yeseul gets. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need you to parent him.

“Woah, who pissed in your cereal?” You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to hide your bad mood from your study buddy, Hongjoong. Although you only see him for studying, you’re confident enough to call him your closest friend other than San. “Are you okay?”

You sigh, dropping your books on the table. It earns you a harsh ‘shh’ from the librarian which you apologise half-heartedly for. “Do you remember Yeseul? Lee Yeseul?”

Hongjoong’s brows raise high into his hairline. “The professional bitcher? What did she do now?”

“San’s into her, and with her personality, she’s probably loving the attention from the professional heartbreaker.” You groan, glaring at the cover of your organic chemistry textbook. “It’s none of my business if he cares for her, but damn, I wish he could’ve picked anyone else.”

Hongjoong hums, leaning forward and poking at the top of your head. “Look, you’ve been his friend for years. I think you have a bit more of a reason to poke your nose into his business than most. Give it a few weeks, and if it truly bothers you, then you can bring it up to San.”

You sigh. “Maybe.” You say nothing else on the topic and Hongjoong knows not to broach it anymore. Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so smart.

-

“YN, I didn’t know you knew Yeseul!” is the first thing San says to you one week after he returns from one of his many dates with her. “When I mentioned you being my roommate she told me you were in the same class as her.”

You wince to yourself as you take a long swig of your coffee. “Mmh, I didn’t think it was that relevant,” you say. You can practically hear Hongjoong rolling his eyes at your excuse. You know you should tell him your qualms about Yeseul, especially since the gross feeling in your gut has only gotten stronger. But you’re not sure you want to tread those waters. San’s sweet, but he’s loyal to a fault and probably wouldn’t like you talking badly about Yeseul.

San narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious but not willing to pry. “Well, maybe if we ever find you a date, we can go on a double date.” He moves on pretty quickly, though, walking over to lean over your shoulder and look at your laptop. “Still going on that paper?”

You hum, cracking your knuckles. “Yeah, it’s due tomorrow so I need to pump it out today and then get Hongjoong to look it over.” You lean back, letting your head rest on San’s torso as you yawn. “I can’t wait for this to be over so that I can graduate already.”

San laughs, leaning down to rest his chin on your head. “You’re smart. You can do this. And when you’re done, I’ll take you to a party and we can celebrate.”

You groan, shifting forward and putting your hands back on the keyboard. “Well, in that case, I should get back to writing this.” As you start typing again, you hear the buzzer ring and the warmth of San’s body leaves you as he goes to check who it is.

“Oh, hey, Yeseul! Come on up!” Your eyebrows raise into your hairline and your head snaps up. Why would Yeseul go to all this trouble of coming here? Didn’t they just see each other?

You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths before facing the dragon herself. You can hear the tell-tale sound of her voice pitched up to sound more sweet, although it’s grown to be grating on your ears. “Hi, Sannie,” she purrs and you have to refrain from retching. “I was on my way home but I realised it went right by your apartment so I figured I could come say hi. It doesn’t look like you’re too busy, right?”

“No, not at all,” San replies, and you hate how sweetly he talks to her. “YN is in too, she’s writing her final paper. Wanna say hi? She could probably use the distraction.”

No, I don’t need the distraction, is what you want to scream out, but your mother did not raise you like that although you wish she did. Instead, you just smile politely at the girl entering your kitchen. “Hello, Yeseul. Good to see you again.”

“Hey, YNie!” Her cheery nickname for you has your eye twitching. “How’s the paper going? I finished mine a few weeks ago so I’m home free. Just need to submit it.”

“That’s great, Yeseul,” you say, tone slightly more monotonous than you wanted it to be and San shoots you a look. “Hopefully you get a good grade on it.”

“Hey, would you want to join us for dinner?” San cuts in and you can already feel a headache starting to pulse behind your eyes. “I was going to order pizza since it’s my turn today and I’m not nearly as good of a cook as YN.”

“Oh, that would be lovely! I don’t mind whatever toppings,” Yeseul claps happily. The urge to punch her in the face increases bit by bit for you. San nods happily, stepping out into the living room to place the call. After a moment, Yeseul turns to you with puppy eyes and you brace yourself for whatever she has up her sleeve. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water, YNie?”

You try your best to keep your composure as you get up to fetch her a glass of water. She takes it without even a thank you and you decide you’d much rather die than deal with her any longer so you close your laptop with a sigh. “I’m actually meeting with a friend for dinner, but you definitely should stay and have fun,” you say, smiling as plausibly as you can. You do not have dinner plans but you’re sure you can figure it out.

When you go into your room, you’re drawing blanks. You’re still going out, but you’ll probably just end up calling a friend to complain. As you leave the room and grab your keys, San meets eyes with you and frowns. “Where are you going?”

“Ah, I promised to have dinner with a friend so I’m heading out. Enjoy your time with Yeseul, though.”

The furrow between San’s brows deepens. “But I already ordered the pizza.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I can bring the leftovers tomorrow for lunch. Sorry, I just forgot to tell you, but I really have to go now. Bye!” Before he can say goodbye as well, you slip out the door. The suffocating feeling that is encompassing you lifts and you sigh in relief, but then you somehow feel worse at the idea of San and Yeseul having fun and giggling and cuddling.

You shake your head again, trying to clear your muddled thoughts before setting down to go find your dinner. Fast food was the easiest option, and you figured you could at least sit in your car and wallow in self-pity.

-

After you receive your order you park and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t want to call your family because as much as you love them, they can be a bit over-protective and probably will offer to help you find a different apartment and that would be a bit dramatic. In the end, Hongjoong is probably the next best option.

He doesn't pick up immediately, and you’re just about to hang up when the phone crackles and Hongjoong’s voice comes through. “Why are you calling me?”

You can’t help but bark out a laugh at his disgruntled tone. “Hongjoong, it’s a perfectly reasonable hour to call, don’t blame me for your shit sleeping schedule. Are you actually free though?”

Hongjoong sighs and if you focus you can hear the sound of him rolling over in bed. “What’s up?”

“It’s about Yeseul again. She came around today, and it was just…so suffocating. Like, why did San have to pick her? There’s so many girls, and out of them all he picks her? The most bitchy one I know?”

Hongjoong hums. “Why does it annoy you so much?”

You groan, leaning your head back and taking a long sip of your drink. “She’s self-centred, bitchy, and she’s just so fake. I don’t think this relationship will end well, Joong. Clearly he’s just blinded and she’s so manipulative.”

“But why are you so bothered by this specifically? I mean, sure we’ve had bad interactions with Yeseul, but you’re pretty nonchalant about the shit San gets up to and you like to let him deal with the consequences himself.”

You frown glaring at the phone although you know he can’t see it and you pop a fry into your mouth. “I don’t know. It just feels different. I feel like I should interfere this time. I mean, he’s a lot more serious this go around.”

Hongjoong hums, rolling once again as he yawns. “YN, be totally honest with me. This is a shot in the dark, but I think this is pretty important.” You hold your breath in anticipation. “Do you like San?”

“Oh sure, he’s a good friend–”

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant.” You bite your lip, stiffening in your chair. “YN, you need to be honest with yourself. The way you talk about San, you interact with him, it’s not how just roommates, just friends interact. You kiss each other's heads, YN. And it can be platonic, but I’ve rarely seen San do that to his female friends, and I’ve never seen you do that, period. You don’t even kiss me.” His voice turns teasing on the last bit but you’re too shocked to register.

Do you like San? You love him like a friend, of course. But when you think about him being with anyone else, even if it wasn’t Yeseul, something in you aches. When you think about San’s smile being directed to anyone else, you can feel a burning in your gut. The answer is clear, whether you like it or not.

“I…yes. I do.” The confession comes out quietly. “But I don’t want to do anything about it. Like you said, it’s up to San whether he likes Yeseul enough. I can’t interfere.”

You can practically hear the look Hongjoong would be levelling at you. “Why not?”

You shrug. “When San likes someone, nothing can stop him from liking someone unless he wants to. I’ll just let it run its course and hopefully my own feelings will vanish in the process.”

“That doesn’t sound very healthy, YN.”

You let out a despondent laugh. “Sure, probably not. But who knows? Maybe I can find someone else in the process.” You let out a sigh before glancing at your now-cold sandwich. “I gotta head out, but thanks for talking, Joong. I’ll see you in class.”

Hongjoong can barely say goodbye before you hang up the phone and lean back. This is going to be difficult. The more you see Yeseul, the more you know you’ll accidentally slip up and something will tip her and San off. Your headache is pulsing behind your eyes and you take a small bite of your sandwich, your appetite diminishing. You miss being a child and your biggest worry is that San sneezed on your lollipop.

With another groan, you wrap up the sandwich and just go for a late-night drive instead to clear your head. It’s something that has never failed to calm you down and keep your mind level. San always berates you for driving alone at night, but you’d like to say you’re pretty safe. Plus, even he has agreed that it’s pretty calming when—you frown, forcing thoughts of San to leave your brain.

You don’t really know how long you’ve been out, but it’s surely long enough that Yeseul has left. As you carefully open the door, there’s a long silence, and you sigh, happy you made it home free. But as you’re about to call out for San, you hear a high-pitched moan come from his bedroom. And it certainly is not San.

You almost turn tail and head right back out of the apartment when you hear San’s reverberating moans fill the house. Against your better judgment, you take off your shoes and step closer towards his bedroom. His bedroom door is cracked open and curse him for putting his mirror right in view where you can see him leaning back on his bed, his lower half hidden off the edge of it and you can only see Yeseul’s knees.

And in your head, you know it’s wrong. But your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel heat building in your core. And, well, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. You keep yourself pressed against the wall, staring at the way the muscles in San’s neck strain and the way he moans with every snap of his hips. You’re sure your panties are soaked through by now, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. The taste of copper enters your mouth but you couldn’t care less.

It’s only when San sits up, probably to fuck into Yeseul better and he disappears from the mirror that you rip yourself away and escape into your own room. Not another thought enters your brain as you strip your leggings and underwear off, flopping on your bed and closing your eyes as you let your hand trail down to press against your slick pussy. It doesn’t take long for you to sink your fingers into your sopping cunt, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow.

The guilt in the back of your mind is quickly sent away as you imagine San’s hands fucking you instead. He’s always had well-worn hands, and your brain fogs up as you imagine him leaning forward to mouth at your neck as he fucks you.

Your brain flips back and forth between the idea of him eating you out so well and fucking so many loads into you with his thick cock that your stomach swells and you whimper into your pillow as your core tightens and you come onto your fingers. You feel tears prick your eyes as you get up to wipe your hands of the cream coating your fingers and toss the tissue in the trash. You’re not sure how you’ll be able to face San or Yeseul again after that.

You can feel the shame burning inside of you and you close your eyes and cry yourself to sleep silently.

-

Waking up is disorienting, your eyes red-rimmed and your bottom lip raw and blood dried on it. You feel like death and you’re pretty sure you can’t attend class like this. You lean over and grab your phone, yawning as you send your professor a text with a weak excuse. You don’t really care how plausible it is, Professor Jeong usually is quite understanding so you don’t worry about that for too long. San had texted you an hour ago, asking if you had come home, and you choose not to answer it.

You can hear mumbling in the other room, probably Yeseul and San sharing goodbyes, when you hear the door shut behind her. Unlike you, she’s probably happy to go to class and tell all her friends about her night with the campus fuckboy.

It takes another thirty minutes for you to finally roll out of bed and put some lotion on your face, hoping for the traces of the questionable night you had to erase from your face. Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you venture out into your living room where San is standing by the door. “When did you get back?” he asks without even turning around. “I texted you like, an hour ago.”

You shrug, avoiding his eyes as you move into the kitchen to find breakfast. “I only just woke up, San.”

Your roommate gives a short huff, following close behind you. “Don’t you have class? Yeseul just left so you could walk with her.”

You try not to roll your eyes at the idea of that. “I’m not feeling well so I don’t think I’ll go.” “You’re not feeling well?” San’s voice deepens in concern and as you grab a yoghurt, he places his hand atop your forehead. “You are feeling pretty warm.”

At his touch, too many memories of last night flood through your brain and you shake away his hand. “Yeah. I’ll just go lie down for a little. Have a good day.”

Before he can say anything else, or realise your suspicious behaviour, you dodge past him and head off back into your room to hide. “I left your pizza in the fridge,” he calls after you and you just grunt in thanks before barricading yourself in your room.

You lean against the door for a minute before you realise you didn’t even grab a spoon. Unwilling to go back out there, you’ve resigned yourself to licking it out of the container like a cat when you hear a gentle knock at the door.

“I got you a spoon,” San’s unsure voice filters through the wooden door, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Thanks, San,” you murmur, turning to open the door a crack and take the proffered utensil. “Sorry for being short with you.”

His lips quirk into a half-smile, a silent acceptance of your apology. “I get it. Just get some rest, YN.”

You close the door again, this time a warm heart in your chest mixing with the guilt you still feel in your gut. You’re not sure how on earth you’re going to get over your feelings for San.

-

Avoiding San goes well for the most part. You are in your finals week anyway, and you’re spending most of your time at the library or in class. Your college’s library stays open for 24 hours during the last week of school anyways so some nights you’ve just been staying there until morning. Hongjoong disapproves heavily but doesn’t say much about it and you appreciate his support either way.

Avoiding Yeseul proves much harder. She seems to always find her way to wherever you happen to be, interrupting you and Hongjoong’s study sessions with a perfect smile and narrowed eyes. You don’t know what she wants from you, and you aren’t pleased with her presence.

But one evening, you’re about to leave the library to have some dinner when she corners you. “YN, let’s talk,” she says in that sickeningly saccharine voice of hers, looping her arm into yours and pulling you down the street. “I have some things to ask you.”

Unwilling, you try to tug your arm out of her grasp, but the girl is stronger than you expected. She pulls you all the way to her dorm on campus, sitting you down on her leather couch. “What is your relationship with Choi San?”

Her question comes so suddenly you need a minute to register. To her credit, Yeseul waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “He’s my friend and roommate?” you say as truthfully as you can muster, although you know it’s an absolute lie, and judging from her expression, Yeseul doesn’t believe you either.

“Don’t take me as a fool, YN. The way he talks about you is undeniable.”

“That seems like something you should be talking to him about,” you say, attempting to get up from the couch but Yeseul just pushes you back down.

“I’ve tried. He just tells me there’s nothing to worry about and I don’t believe that,” Yeseul grits through her teeth.

And you have to give it to her. She did try to come to San about her worries. But the way she refuses to trust him grates on your nerves. He stopped his fuckboy activities to be with her, and yet she’s worried about you, one of the few girls who isn’t all over him at any moment. You arch a brow. “Do you not trust him?”

Yseul scoffs. “Of course not. He’s a fuckboy. But I like the status I get with him. I just don’t want to end up embarrassed.”

Well, that will be inevitable, you can’t help but think to yourself. No matter how much your relationship with San is strained, you’re not about to let Yeseul talk shit about him like he isn’t genuinely trying for her.

“That’s where you come into play,” Yeseul’s smirk turns sharp. “I’m going to call San. Ask him to choose between us. If he chooses you, then I want you to stay far, far away from him.”

You shrug. No matter the outcome, it’s not like you’re not already keeping your distance from San. In the end, you’ll just tell him to break up with her and let him deal with the chaos himself. “Go ahead,” bitch.

San picks up on the first ring. “Yeseul?” He’s cheery and your heart aches at the thought of Yeseul breaking his so easily. “What’s the occasion?”

“Hey, babe, I just have a quick question, and I need you to answer truthfully for me, okay?” At his pause, she takes that as a go-ahead. “Who would you pick? Me or YN.”

There’s a long silence on the phone. “Yeseul, we need to break up.”

Only one thing unites you and Yeseul in this moment, and it’s your shared confusion for San’s reaction. “What do you mean?” her voice turns panicked. “Isn’t that a little far?”

“You’ve been stuck on this, and I don’t know how much I have to reassure you, Yeseul. I haven’t even seen YN for the past two weeks. And she’s my closest friend. I’m not dropping her for a two-week relationship. I hope you have a good time, Yeseul.”

Before you can react at all, Yeseul screeches and points an accusing finger at you. “This is all your fault, YN!”

Your jaw drops at her absolute audacity. “My fault? What are you on? I was just trying to live peacefully when you dragged me into this plot ignoring my advice. I told you to talk to him, to just fucking trust him. God, you’re an idiot. And I’m going home.”

Without another word, you leave, still fuming over that interaction. Couldn’t she just have made the call without you? You’re happy you don’t have to do all the convincing for San to leave her, but that just complicates things for you. Would he really so easily drop Yeseul just for you? From what you’ve heard, he was practically head over heels for her.

With another sigh, you head back to the library. You need to finish that exam.

-

“Pens down, and turn in your exams,” you hear the professor call, and you don’t think you’ve ever gotten up so fast. You’re so, so fucking happy that you’ve finished your last year and now you’re free.

As soon as your professor accepts your paper you race out of the lecture hall, only stopped by the cafeteria when you hear someone call your name. Lee Juyeon, someone you’ve started growing closer to, waves you down. “Hey, YN, congrats on finishing!” he smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, the giddiness contagious.

“Thanks! You too,” you say, pulling him into a hug. “It’s so nice to be done.” Practically nothing could dampen your mood, especially seeing Juyeon. He’s sweet, and you have an inkling he likes you. And you’re not opposed to it.

“It really is,” Juyeon agreed cheerfully. “Look, I have to go celebrate with my family, I just wanted to say hi. But hey…there’s this end of the year party on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

And your suspicions were right. You think about it for a moment. You’re not the biggest party person, anyone knows that, but Juyeon is sweet and just what you need, so you accept eagerly. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to exchange numbers and for him to promise to send you more details before he runs off. And through your excitement, you know you still have to go meet with San who’s probably waiting for you just outside. He wanted to see you as soon as you finish your exams, and you didn’t have the heart to decline.

“Congratulations on finishing your last exam, YN!” San cheers as soon as you exit the college building. “I’m so proud of you!”

You’re too tired to complain when San sweeps you up into a hug, just letting yourself relax in his firm arms. After all this work, you think you’ll let yourself indulge in his affection. “Thanks, Sanah. I appreciate it.” You let your chin rest on his broad shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion take over you. “Can I go to bed now?”

You hear him chuckle, the vibrations from his chest comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. We can celebrate later. Come on.”

He tugs you all the way to your apartment, dropping you on the couch and quickly curling right up next to you. You can’t bring yourself to care. “I’m proud of you,” he repeats into your hair as he tucks your head into his neck. Your eyes flutter shut.

When you reopen them, it’s bordering on evening. San is no longer wrapped around you, and you can hear him moving about in the kitchen. “San,” you call out, voice raspy from having just woken up. “What are you doing?”

“Ah, I’m making dinner,” he responds, his voice too warm for your liking, your heart beating just a little faster. “Come and eat.”

With a bit of difficulty, you rise from the couch and move to the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. “Japchae? When did you learn how to cook this?”

San chuckles. “Wooyoung taught me the other day because he was bored. I figured it’d be a nice surprise for you after all your hard work.”

Your lips twitch, unsure if you should smile or pout. “That’s sweet. Thank you again, San.”

As you start eating the noodles (there’s a little too much sesame but you don’t have the heart to tell San that), San clears his throat. “So…I promised to take you to a party.”

You vaguely remember this conversation. “Ah, yeah. What did you have in mind?”

“There’s this end of the year party, it’s supposed to be the biggest one, hosted by Jackson Wang.”

“Ah–” you shake your head, eyes apologetic. “I promised someone else I’d go with them. I didn’t know that was the party you wanted to take me to. Maybe we can do something else on a different day?”

San’s lips turn downward the slightest bit. “That’s okay. There are other parties. Who invited you, by the way?” His tone is casual, and yet you still feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den.

“Ah, Lee Juyeon from college. I think he’s in Hongjoong’s philosophy department, but he’s a year behind. He’s cute so I figured I’d give it a try.”

“It’s a date?” Your brows furrow at the heaviness in San’s voice but you pay it no mind and nod. “I see. Well, have fun.”

The rest of the dinner is filled with silence, San picking at his food and you in no mood to try and dissect his mood. He takes your empty bowl and starts doing the dishes, and you mumble out a thank you before running back to your room. He’s clearly not willing to talk more and it’s best to give him space.

As you lay in bed, you can’t help but worry about what is so grating on his mind after you mentioned your date. You can’t think of anything that would cause him to be angry—as far as you’re aware he has no grudges against Lee Juyeon, much less met him. Shaking your head, you try and fall asleep. It’s best not to dwell on it, you can just ask him tomorrow.

-

It’s Saturday, and you’re in a foul mood. San hasn’t spoken to you in the four days leading up to the party, avoiding you like there’s no tomorrow. The only saving grace comes in the form of Juyeon’s excited texts, telling you all about his outfit for the party, and you respond with matching enthusiasm. When you meet with Juyeon in front of the large house where the party is held, the thought of San isn’t even on your mind. Instead, you just take Juyeon’s offered hand and follow him into the party.

You weave through the bodies, reaching the counter where shots are being passed around. “Want vodka or tequila?” Juyeon asks, his voice pitching higher to be heard over the bass. Without answering him, you just reach for the bottle of tequila, pouring the two of you shots. “Good choice,” Juyeon laughs, throwing his head back as he downs the alcohol, you following suit shortly.

“You know, I never pegged you for a college party fan,” you lean in, laughing. “Maybe I should hang out with you more.”

Juyeon chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Maybe you should. I know great party-throwers. Although I’ve heard you’ve been to your fair share, what being San’s friend and all.”

You shake your head, a smile on your face. “Maybe at first, but you know, organic chemistry isn’t an easy major to balance with a party life.”

Juyeon laughs loudly, bumping you with his hip. “I understand the pain. Philosophy falls into that category of majors too. Another shot?”

You take the second shot happily, letting the alcohol burn through your veins as you stumble alongside Juyeon’s wandering through the crowd. Whatever you’re doing is a blur, all you can focus on is Juyeon’s smile and his warm hand holding yours.

It feels like barely a moment has passed when Juyeon pulls you into a nearly empty room of couches, only a few other couples lingering in the corners. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Juyeon starts, his eyes sparkling as he takes in your appearance. “It’s been fun hanging out.”

“I did too,” you agree with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes.

He leans in, and you lean in, and your lips brush. It’s a sweet kiss, one that you lean into as Juyeon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s warm and you smile into it. And then a familiar face pops into your head. You wonder to yourself how San would kiss you, if he would do it as sweetly as Juyeon or if he would devour your lips like it was his last meal.

When Juyeon pulls away for air, you feel guilt burning in your stomach again. Why would you think of other men when Juyeon’s right here in front of you? As Juyeon leans in to kiss you again, you almost move back before a hand grips your shoulder and pulls you into a broad chest.

“Hey, man, I’m going to have to talk to YN if you don’t mind.” You’d recognise your best friend’s voice anywhere, and it only serves to fill you with annoyance. Sure, you weren’t as into Juyeon’s kisses as you expected, but it doesn’t mean you’re thrilled to be interrupted by the man who’s been ignoring you.

Juyeon takes one look at San, and something changes in his eyes. A mix of reluctance and acceptance, and with a short nod and smile towards you, he slips away from you. You turn to San, frowning at the sharpness in his narrowed eyes, not one you’re used to seeing or enjoy seeing. “Why would you kiss him?” he spits, and your annoyance grows with confusion being added to the mix.

“What do you mean, ‘why kiss him’? I told you, San, I was on a date. Why the fuck did you interrupt us?”

“I like you.” Those three words would be a dream for you to hear from his mouth…if you weren’t so pissed.

“No, fuck that. I do not need to hear that from you right now. Not when I was enjoying my night with Juyeon. What was confessing supposed to do for you, San? It’s too late now. I wanted to enjoy this party, and now I have to go apologise to Juyeon for you.” San opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head, pushing him away from you.

You leave San standing by himself as you search for Juyeon, your mood immediately souring. Why would he fucking do this to you? You can feel tears burning your eyelids and you abandon your search for Juyeon, searching instead for some liquor to take away your embarrassment.

As you pour yourself another shot of tequila, you notice a familiar face, Hongjoong talking to a girl you recognise as someone he hangs out with sometimes. They look like they’re getting it on and you feel a little bad, but you need his advice. “Hey, Kim Hongjoong!” you call out to him, waving him over. Hongjoong’s eyes brighten and he makes his way over, leaving the girl staring after him longingly, but her attention is soon taken away by two other guys. You recognise one of them from the cafeteria but you don’t remember his name.

“Hey, YN, what’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here, did San take you?” Your face falls and Hongjoong realises he stepped into dangerous territory. “Okay, what happened?”

-

“I can’t believe San is mad at me for kissing someone at the party,” you groan after explaining to Hongjoong the events leading up to now. “Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best move on my part but he’s had like, twenty million one-night stands, and yet I can’t kiss someone else? He hasn’t even talked to me after I mentioned going on a date. And yet he looked positively murderous after he saw me kissing that other guy.”

Hongjoong tilts his head, confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted, though? You like him.”

“I did! I do! But I’m so sick of waiting around for him, and I could’ve had a chance at liking someone else. He’s all over the place, and I don’t know if that’s what I want in a man.” You’re lying to both Hongjoong and yourself, and Hongjoong knows it, raising an eyebrow.

“Honestly, YN, it just sounds like you need to talk to him.” Hongjoong crosses his arms, tapping his foot and eager to back to the girl was with, but also not wanting to ditch you in your time of need. You feel a little bad for pulling him away, but your mind is swirling with so many thoughts, you don’t know if you can sort them out by yourself and drinking to erase those thoughts is not something you like to do. You’re not San.

And speak of the devil, you smell his familiar cologne before his hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. You whirl around out of his grip and glare at him. “Get off me,” you snap. “I’m in the middle of a conversation right now, Choi San.”

With one glance at Hongjoong, he raises his hands and winks at you. “Have that talk, YN. It’ll do you more good than harm.”

Oh, you’re going to kill that traitor after the party. You turn your attention back to San, your mouth twisted into a frown. “You make this quick or else.”

San has the decency to look a little ashamed as his eyes shake. “Can we talk on the patio? It’s too loud in here.”

With a dramatic sigh, you grab his wrist and pull him through the crowd to the back door, practically slamming it behind you. You can see the eyes of people interested in the drama through the windows but you pay it no mind. “Speak. You get five minutes before I go back in and you don’t talk to me again for the rest of the night.”

San’s face falls and his lips pull into a pout. But no matter how subconsciously adorable he is, you refuse to fall for his charms this time. The heat of anger is still curling in your gut when you think about the argument from earlier. “YN, come on, I had a good reason.”

You shake your head, ignoring the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. “No, San. Confessing to me is not a good reason to fuck up my night. You didn’t even apologise. You’ve been ignoring me for days after I mentioned my date, and the moment I kiss Juyeon you get all angry and jealous? Be for real.” You pause for breath, glaring daggers into his eyes. “You are not owed my time, especially after that shit you pulled. Yeseul’s jealousy is why you broke up with her, so why are you like this to me?”

San’s gaze intensifies and you can see him actively trying to reign in his temper. Although he does his best to remain calm, if tempers are rising, he can be intense. “YN, what was I supposed to do? Watch you go out with him? Watch you slip from my fingers just like that?”

“Yes!” you all but scream at him. “If I could sit by and let Yeseul take each little bit of your heart, you could’ve done the same! I was going to be happy, San! I wouldn’t have to sit behind and watch you from the sidelines with my heart slowly cracking. But I don’t get that same courtesy.”

You step forward, poking his chest with a finger as you let loose your storm of thoughts. In your anger, you don’t even notice San’s arm moving until it wraps around your waist and pulls you into him. The action shocks you enough that you stop mid-sentence, your finger still pressing into San’s flesh. “You love me?” San leans in, his nose brushing against yours.

You can feel heat flare up in your face as you stare wide-eyed at him. It takes you a moment to register your compromising position and you stumble back, pushing at his chest. “Don’t do that,” you hiss, turning your eyes away. “I don’t like you, San. Not anymore.”

“You’re lying.” San’s voice is firm. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t like me anymore.”

You don’t know where you got it from. You’ve never been good at lying, not to San. Maybe it was the alcohol burning through your system, mixing with the shame and anger you feel. But this time, you stare him directly in the eye and say the four words that might’ve been the biggest lie in your life. “I don’t like you.” San’s brows furrow and he shakes his head.

“No–”

“Yes, San. You cannot just waltz around and expect me to keep the patience I had for you. I’m sick of being pulled around like a puppet. Maybe at first you didn’t know. But refusing to give me space when I asked for it?” You shake your head, glancing back at the party. “I’m going back in. We can talk about the apartment lease later.”

Without glancing back, you re-enter the house. And maybe it hurts a little that he doesn’t go after you, but at this point, you’re too numb and all you want to do is go home and cry. But home is not an option, not when it would probably be the first place he would look for you. Fighting back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you slide into your car, staring blankly at the wheel for a long moment until you feel composed and sober enough to drive.

And drive you certainly do. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, and you’re plenty aware that this is a bad idea, but you just let yourself go around and calm yourself down first. The crisp breeze paired with the warm spring air does wonders to clear your head and paired with the late times, there are not too many cars out. It’s peaceful.

You’re not too sure how long you were out, but it’s long enough for the blurry memory of the argument to clear and you groan, pulling over to park by the side of the road and let your head hit the steering wheel. You went too far. San had always been the more emotional of you two, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He must’ve had a hard time with Yeseul, and although it doesn’t excuse him, you never gave him a chance to properly apologise.

With a sigh, you check your phone to see five missed calls and twenty texts from San asking where you are. He somehow even got your neighbours (a sweet couple in their twenties who babysit Byeol sometimes) to ask you if you’re okay. As your finger hovers over the call button, debating whether to call him back, bright headlights shine behind your car and you stiffen. Your hand hovers over the pepper spray you keep in the dash as you press the call button in a panic. No matter what the disagreement was about, you know San would still come to your aid if you needed it.

“YN, open the door. I’ve been worried sick!” San’s voice crackles through the receiver and you spin around in your seat, squinting at the figure standing behind your car and your shoulders sag in relief.

“God, San, you scared the shit out of me!” you scold, leaning over to unlock the passenger seat and push the door open while hanging up the call. “Get in here.”

A haggard-looking San slides in, his eyes red-rimmed and mouth pressed into a thin line. The car that drove him turns and you look back in confusion before San starts explaining. “I wanted to give you space so I stayed at the party,” he starts explaining after a moment. “But I got worried and went to the apartment to find you. But you weren’t there, and I asked all your friends. I’m lucky you left your location on, and my friend gave me a ride.”

You wince. You forgot about turning off your location, although you’re glad you didn’t as it would’ve been more dangerous otherwise. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning your eyes to look out the windshield. “I just needed to clear my head so I went for a drive.”

There’s a long period of suffocating silence between the two of you when San finally speaks, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry,” he starts and your head snaps towards him, eyes wide. Of all the things you expected to fall from his lips, an apology is not one of those things. Not tonight, at least. “I was too pushy. I shouldn’t have ignored you, or interrupted your time with Juyeon. I should’ve talked to you like an adult.”

You laugh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “What an astute observation, San. However did you come to that conclusion?” Your exasperation is evident in your tone and San sucks in a breath at how done you seem. “Look, San. I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be that bad. But I’m just…tired. I’m tired of always wondering what is running through your mind, where I am in your list of importance. You date Yeseul, but break up with her over me. You give me the cold shoulder when I go on a date, but suddenly me being on a date is unacceptable. I just don’t know how to take anything.”

Against your will, tears start to drop onto your thighs, streaking down the skin and you sniff. “Shit,” San panics beside you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He hands you a tissue and you take it with shaking hands, pressing your face into it as San tugs you closer, guiding you to lean against him.

He repeats soft little ‘sorry’s and leans his head atop yours, his tears falling onto your hair. The two of you stay in this position for a long while, no words are needed to understand the emotional moment.

“Let’s go home, YN,” San mumbles, his voice vibrating deep in your heart. “Let’s go home and we can talk tomorrow.”

You sniff again, tears run dry as you sit up and wipe your eyes. “Okay,” you whisper out. “Let’s go home.”

San stays attached to you throughout the drive home, his hand gripping onto your own hand whenever he can, and quickly wrapping you into a back hug as you walk up to the apartment. “I…cuddle with me tonight?” you ask, eyes flitting away from his face, missing the brilliant smile that spreads across it.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he hums, walking with you to his room, and he lets you slide in first, the smell of his detergent filling your mind and your eyelids flutter shut already. San crawls in next to you, pulling you close.

“Good night, YN,” San mumbles as your breathing evens out. As you drift off into sleep, you swear you feel his soft lips on your forehead but you dismiss it as wishful thinking.

-

When you reawaken, San’s still curled up, your body covered by his, his breathing slow and gentle. You can’t help but blink a couple of times to make sure it isn’t a dream when his arms tighten around your waist and he shifts. “YN?” His morning voice is as rough as always, rumbling low in his chest.

“Hey, Sanah,” you greet him quietly, leaning up to meet his eyes blinking slowly at you like a cat’s. “Good morning.”

“Hi.” He dips his head to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your scent. “I should probably explain myself.” His voice vibrates against your neck and you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling.

“That would be nice.”

San huffs, but he can’t complain about your snark. “I like you, YN. I don’t know when I started to, and I definitely didn’t realise I did until I started dating Yeseul. I did like her, but not as deeply as I thought I did. It was so easy to break up with her as soon as she made me pick between you and her. The answer came to me without a doubt in my mind as soon as the question left her lips, and yet I still didn’t realise my true feelings.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, and you stroke his hair comfortingly. “I didn’t realise why I was so pissed about you going out with Juyeon, and that’s why I was avoiding you. It’s a stupid reason, I know. But I just didn’t know why, not until I saw you at the party kissing him. I just wanted to be there instead of you. And I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t like me anymore, but–”

“I love you.”

His head snaps up to stare at you after your sudden declaration, and after he registers your words a smile spreads across his face. He puffs out a breathy chuckle and you know his answer before he even says it. “I love you too.”

His eyes shine like you’ve hung the stars in the skies, and when they flit down to your lips, you know an unspoken question when you see it. You lean forward slowly, letting your eyes close once more when your lips meet his.

And damn, you were right about how San kisses. In a second, he deepens the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup your face while his tongue swipes at your lips. Shyly, you part your lips and he dives right in, licking into your mouth and biting at your lips.

“Sanah,” you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his plush lips. “Sanah–”

You repeat his name like a prayer as his lips travel down to your neck, littering wet kisses and bite marks all over your sensitive skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet to me,” San moans against your body. “Please, please, let me treat you right, make it up to you. Let me worship you.”

You whine as he laves his tongue over your breasts spilling out of the crop top you had worn last night. Any other time you would’ve stressed at how gross the clothes were but right now you could hardly even think about it. “Fuck, yes, please,” you beg when San nips at your cleavage, leaving a mark.

“Ah, already begging for me,” San groans, his hips pressing into your legs. “You’re so perfect.” His voice grows whiney as his sucks on your nipples, making your back arch.

His kisses move down your body until his breath is ghosting over your stomach and his hands are pawing at your pants, shoving them down as quickly as he can. He doesn’t have the same amount of minimal patience for your panties, and before you can react, he’s ripped them off your legs. “Choi San!” you scold, shifting to try and sit up but his grip on your hips stops you from moving too far.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” San promises before diving right in and sucking at your clit without another moment’s hesitation. Your hips jerk and your core tightens at the sudden feeling as you throw your head back and moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream

His ministrations on your dripping cunt have you wordless. His fingers are pressing into your hip bones, the sensation making you squirm. As soon as his tongue breaches your clenching hole your hands fly down to grasp at his hair. “Fuck–” you squeal, your legs attempting to close but San just pushes them apart again, busying himself in your folds.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” San groans, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine as he lets his teeth scrape against your clit. You can hardly focus on anything at the barrage of sensations filling you up, San fucking his tongue into you so well. Your thighs are shaking as you can feel yourself grow wetter and wetter against his face.

When you tilt your head down, he meets your eyes as he moves one of his hands to push a finger into your hole. “Shit–” your grip on his hair tightens impossibly. “Sanah–”

“Come for me, love,” San groans, and you let the dam break, screaming out his name until your voice is hoarse, and San licks up your release through it all.

When he finally pulls away from your twitching and sensitive core, his lips are covered in your glistening slick, thick globs of it sitting pretty on his chin. Without thinking, you pull him down and crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. San groans as you lick his face clean, shoving your tongue deep into his mouth.

“Fuck, I need to fuck you right now or else I think I might go insane,” San growls, blindly fumbling in his nightstand to pull out a condom as he shoves down his sweats to reveal his hard, red cock. Without another thought, he opens the pack with his teeth, rolling the latex down his length with ease thanks to the precum dribbling down it.

He lines up, the tip of it kissing your hole, when you groan. You’re much too impatient for this, reaching down and holding him steady as you shift your body to sink onto his thick cock. “Shit, YN,” San grits out as you take him deeper and deeper until your cunt kisses his crotch. “You’re too much.”

You pant, shifting on his cock as you try to get used to the stretch. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but he’s thick and the stretch is almost too much. “You’re fucking talking, you fill me up so fucking well, Sanah.” You hiss as you throw your head back, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Fuck me already, San. Or should I go and find Juyeon to–”

You’re cut off by San thrusting into you so violently that you swear the bed shakes. “I don’t want to hear that fucking name out of your mouth anymore,” San commands, leaning forward until his body weight pins you down and your eyes roll back as he starts fucking into you with short, quick thrusts.

With every movement, you feel like you may break apart. You can hear every slick sound, the sound of it obscene, and yet all you want is more. Your previous release coats his cock so well, thick strings of it attaching to his hips.

His arms wrap around your waist, and before you can protest or do anything, he hoists you up until you’re sitting in his lap. You swear this angle makes him impale you even deeper, his cockhead kissing the perfect spot deep inside you. Your head drops to San’s shoulder, moaning against the fabric of his shirt. “Fuck, San, you’re so deep,” you moan high-pitched. “You’re so fucking good for me.”

San growls, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “You’re so tight for me, so much better than Yeseul. I saw you in the mirror, you know,” he whispers conspiratorially and you gasp and clench, snapping your head to look at him. “You’re not as sneaky as you thought, love. Did you touch yourself to the thought of me fucking you so well?”

You whine, words failing you, and San’s hips slow to a stop. You try your best to grind against him but his hands grip your waist, keeping you still. “Please–” you try to beg but San chuckles and nips at your earlobe.

“Answer me, YN.”

“Fuck– Yes!” you cry out, so eager for him to start moving again. “Wanted you to fill me with your cum so well until it was spilling out of me. Please, please, please, fuck me.”

“Hm.” And without any warning, San jerks his hips up into you, biting into your neck like a fucking vampire and you scream, hips stuttering as you come on his cock. You don’t think you’re making any coherent noises, just babbling into his neck as your bones become jelly from the overstimulation.

If you thought the sounds were obscene before, you swear they’ve become ten times worse as you lay limp against San’s body. He’s moving you up and down his cock like a doll and you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as you still feel aftershocks from your orgasm.

“Shit, you’re so warm around me, I’m gonna come,” San moans in your ear, his rhythm breaking as he drops your weight on his cock. You can feel him twitching inside you as his teeth sink into your neck once more. “God, I want to fill you up so badly, but that’s just going to have to wait, my love.”

After a long moment, he pulls out, groaning at your come coating the condom and his thighs. Without thinking, he dips his fingers in the mess and brings it to his mouth, licking it off like it’s the most delicious thing in the world to him. “Come here, baby,” he says in that beautifully raspy voice, and you lean forward, meeting his lips in another kiss.

This kiss is sweet and soft, but the lingering taste of your shared releases still permeates your taste buds. You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lays against the wall with you in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, pressing another kiss to the top of your head and it’s almost like he hadn’t fucked you like it was your last day on earth. “I won’t ever leave you again.”

You hum, turning your head to pepper kisses over his neck freckles. “I should be the one saying that. I love you, San. And I’ll always run to you with no hesitation.”

[alotofpockets]

Meeting again | Part 1 - Part 2 | Leah Williamson x Reader

Where you take your son to Leah's book signing and you reconnect with your high school friend/crush.

Thank you @totaly-obsessed for letting me bounch ideas off of you for this one!

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.7k

-----

When you check your phone after waking up, you see a text from Leah. Her name amongst your notifications instantly brings a smile to your face.

Leah: Hey, good morning! Can I pick you up at 11 for that coffee?

You text her back instantly, no longer being scared of messaging her, after you’ve spent the evening together last night. After doing some stuff around the house, you get ready, and wait for Leah to pick you up.

At the coffee shop Leah went to order for the both of you, while you found a spot to sit. You were admiring your surroundings, when Leah headed your way with two cups in hand. “No coffee for you?” Her placing a mug with hot chocolate down in front of her peaks your interest. “Oh, yeah, I don’t drink coffee.” She says with a shy smile. “Why didn’t you say so when I asked you out for coffee? We could’ve gone somewhere else!” Leah shakes her head instantly, “Don’t worry about it, I was happy with the invite to see you sooner, and this place has the best hot chocolate in town.”

You fall into conversation with Leah just as easily as you had done yesterday. With years to catch up on, there were enough topics to keep you talking. Though, even if you had fully caught up with Leah, you think you’d still find topics of conversation to get to stay talking to her.

The first time you got quiet for a moment was when Leah said, “I’ve been trying to piece together how we stopped being friends all those years ago.” Your eyes fall to your lap, it had been your fault that the two of you stopped being friends. You wish things would have been different, but then again, you would not have Liam. Liam meant the world to you. “I remember us being really close, and then some rumours spread.” Your eyes meet her nervously. You noticed a slightly hopeful look behind her eyes, as if she was never fully able to understand what happened back when you were kids. So, you took a deep breath and started talking.

“Okay, the rumour, the one where it spread around the school that I liked you, was never actually a rumour.” Leah’s blue eyes pierced into yours. “Oh?” A part of Leah felt relieved that those almost moments between the two of you growing up weren’t just in her head. “Yeah, basically I confided in Maria, one of my best friends, about my feelings for you, because they were confusing me. You know as a teenager finding out that the feelings you’re meant to be having for a boy, you are feeling for a girl.” Leah nodded in understanding. “Well, she was apparently very homophobic, and decided to tell the whole school. I stopped being friends with her instantly, and you know the rest. I got together with Ryan to get people off my back, and put distance between the two of us. I think I even convinced myself for a moment that I could be straight, but yeah that’s not me.” 

You let your eyes meet Leah’s again, there was no anger or hurt behind her eyes, just softness and understanding. “I am truly sorry about how everything played out, and if I hurt you in any way, that was never my intention.” Leah reaches for your hand on the table and gives it a soft squeeze, “You have nothing to apologise for. What Maria did is truly terrible, and I wish I could’ve been there for you at that time. All of that is in the past now though, and we cannot change it.” Her hand stays on yours. “You’re right, we can only focus on the future.” The blonde smiles and nods. “Well, that was a lot deeper than coffee would have gone, but I’m glad we were able to talk about this.” You both laugh. “I should really head back though, I have to pick up Liam from school in a bit.” 

Leah drives you back to your place, and the two of you share a hug when you arrive. “Thank you for today. We should do this again sometime.” Leah says, and you agree instantly, “Yeah, I’ll text you later?” And you did. After Liam went to bed that night, you were texting back and forth with Leah all night, until you fell asleep with the conversation still open. 

The next time you saw Leah, you and Liam watched her play on Sunday. You were rather far from the railings, but Leah found you amongst the crowd and set the both of you a wave when the match was over. 

Since Liam missed Leah for dinner the first time when he had invited her without your knowing, and it got you to reconnect with Leah, you decided to invite her over for dinner that night with the both of you. You decided to make pizza together, since you found out that alike your son, Leah’s favourite food was pizza. Leah was amazing with Liam, you admired the two of them as they were busy chatting, while decorating their pizza’s. 

While you sat down for dinner, you talked about your plans for the week like you always did with Liam, but now including Leah. You had always found it important to know what was ahead, especially since Liam was at his dad’s for half of the week. You had given Leah the honours of talking about her week first as the guest, she told you about her work schedule, and some other things she had planned for the week. Then Liam wanted you to go next, so you shared your work schedule, and your plan to spend your days off with. Liam wanted to finish off the round, he told you about his plans with Ryan, and what he knew about school. “Oh, and mom, what are you doing for the class tomorrow?” Your brows furrowed in surprise, “What do you mean, bud?” 

“It’s your turn to do the class trip tomorrow, do you not have anything planned?” Liam asks in a worried tone. “Buddy, I’m so sorry, but I don’t know anything about it being my turn.” He stood up from the table and you were instantly worried, luckily he came right back with his backpack. “Here, Miss Owens sent this out.” He hands you a letter, informing the parents of the switch in schedules, and it did indeed show you for tomorrow. “Buddy, if this is still in your backpack, I have not seen it yet.” Realisation hits him, “Oh mom, I totally forgot to give it to you. What are we going to do?” Leah, who had been quiet during the interaction spoke up, “I think I might have an idea. I know it’s not my place, but I think I can help, may I?” She looked at you for permission. “Yes, please, I do not have the right connections to take a class out for the day this last minute.” 

Leah got up, “Alright, I am going to make some calls and I will make sure you will have a great day tomorrow, I promise.” She told Liam. She headed into the other room, and started planning away. About thirty minutes later she got back into the kitchen, “Alright, everything is set for tomorrow. I will keep it a surprise though, are you both okay with me coming to class tomorrow?” Liam instantly said yes without giving it a second thought, his friends would finally believe him when he said that he knew Leah Williamson. You nod as well, “Thank you so much Lee.” Leah’s heart started beating faster at the nickname she hadn’t heard from you in such a long time. She smiled and sat back down for dessert. 

The next morning Leah was at your door bright and early. You were busy packing Liam’s lunch when she knocked on the door. “Liam, can you get the door bud?” He came walking into the kitchen pulling Leah behind him, “Mom, Leah still won’t tell me what we’re going to do.” You smiled at the scene in front of you, a frowny kid, and a smirking Leah. “Don’t look at me, Leah went out of her way to arrange this for you, so let’s allow her the one rule she set in place for this.” He let go of her arm. “Fine.” He turned to Leah, “I am grateful that you did whatever it is that you did for me, I just would really like to know what it is.” She put her hand on his shoulder, “I know kiddo, just a little longer, I promise it will be worth the wait.”

You and Leah wait outside of the classroom, while the teacher starts out the day. “Thank you again for doing this, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” Leah shrugs, “You would’ve figured it out, you’re a great mom. I am glad I could help though, I hope the kids like it.” Leah zipped down her jacket to reveal her Arsenal jersey. “By the looks of that, I think the kids are going to love what you have in store.” Leah is about to say something back, but Miss Owens tells you the class is ready for you. 

The two of you step in, and you see the jaws of many kids in Liam’s class drop. “Hi kids, as many of you know, I am Liam’s mom. Today, I have brought someone special with me. I would like you all to meet Leah Williamson.” You introduced her to the crowd, “Hi, I’m Leah, and Liam told me you were looking forward to doing something fun with the whole class. What would you say if the Arsenal players bus was waiting just outside of the school?” The class erupted with excitement. “Would you all like to go and see?” Miss Owens calms down the class again before heading out, “Jackets please, and wait in a line outside of the classroom.”

Leah takes the lead and takes the kids to the players bus. At first they admire it from the outside, where the whole class takes a picture with Leah. Then Leah invites them to sit inside, once all the children are settled, Leah gets on the microphone and starts talking to the kids, and interacting with them. “So, who wants to go to The Emirates Stadium with me?” You couldn’t believe that Leah pulled all of this off in thirty minutes. She sat and talked with the kids, while you talked with Miss Owens. 

After a short tour, Leah guided the kids to the family and friends area of the stadium. “What do you all think of one more surprise?” The class starts cheering again, and right on queue, a group of Arsenal girls walk out. Katie McCabe, Lotte Wubben-Moy, Beth Mead, Vivianne Miedema, and Kim Little, greet the kids with waves. They all have a little meet and greet with the kids, before it is time for them to head back to school. Leah thanked the teacher, and waved bye to the teacher and the kids. Since it was already the end of the school day, and she wanted to show Liam some more behind the scenes things, she asked the teacher if it would be alright if she took the kids back on her own, with a promise of getting her some signed copies of her books for her own kids she agreed.

Liam was living his best life hanging out with his favourite players, like they were friends he had known all his life. Lotte walked up to you as you were watching him talk with the girls. “So, you and Leah go way back I hear?” You smile at her, “Yeah we do.” You and Lotte talk for a bit before she gets pulled aside. “It was nice meeting you y/n, I’ve heard a lot about you the past couple of years.” Lotte’s eyes widened when she realised what she had just said, Leah had just walked up to you, and her cheeks turned red instantly. “Sorry.” Lotte said before quickly walking back to the rest of the girls, and whispering something into Katie’s ear. The latter turns to you, “Mind if we show Liam around some more?” You shake your head and return your attention back to Leah.

“So, you’ve been talking about me for years, have you?” You didn’t think it was possible, but her cheeks turned even redder. While Leah was nervous, she felt like it was now or never. “I mean can you blame me? You are pretty hard to forget.” You’re the one with blushing cheeks now. Leah’s words hang in the air, and you feel a warmth spread in your chest. The way she spoke those words, makes you feel like maybe, she has felt the same way all along. 

“The feeling is mutual,” You reply after taking a moment. A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “I mean how could I forget the girl that was always able to bring a smile to my face, even on my worst days? I think I already proved that though, by coming to most of your matches.” You both laugh at the last comment. “I’ve missed this.” Leah reaches for your hand out of instinct, “You laugh, your smile, and just having you around.” 

Your heart is beating a million miles an hour, by the way she was looking at you right now. In that moment, when her ocean blue eyes stare lovingly into yours, you realise that perhaps the rumours, the misunderstandings, and the years apart were merely obstacles on the path to this moment right here. “I’ve missed you too, Lee. Remember when the other day we said that we can only focus on the future?” Leah nods, and rubs her thumb gently over the back of your hand. “I hope you’re a part of that future.” You nervously look up at her again. 

Leah gave your hand a soft squeeze, “I hope so too.” Her smile grows bigger as she continues, “I’ve thought about what could have been with us so many times, but right now, all I want is to be here with you, and see where time leads us.” Your smile grows just as big as hers is, Leah had felt the same way about you all of this time. “Would it be inappropriate to kiss you at your place of work?” Leah pulled you closer by the hand she was holding, and moved her other hand to your cheek, gently moving her finger over the soft skin there. “I am not working currently, so I think that should be alright.” She leans in the rest of the way, and after all these years of will they won’t they, and what could’ve been, you finally felt her soft lips on yours. 

A loud “Ahem” pulls you away from the blonde. You turn around and find Liam, Katie, and Lotte looking back at the two of you. Before you can say anything Liam turns to Katie and Lotte with a proud smile on his face, “I told you they would get together sometime soon!” Katie high fived him while you laughed, of course Liam had talked about your love life with the two people that were probably sharing Leah’s right back. Leah put her arm around your shoulder, and walked towards the group. “Who’s ready for some dinner?” Liam hugs you from your other side. “Mom, this has been the best day ever, can we please make it even better with McDonald’s for dinner?” You look around the group of girls left over to see if they’d be down too, when you get three nods, you look back to Liam. “Let’s do it.”

As you walk out of the stadium with Liam’s hand in your left, and Leah’s hand in your right, you couldn’t be more happy. 

-----

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[morbiderotica]

Hii! Can i pls request a Light x reader nsfw? You know the scenes where L planted a camera in his room right? Well maybe to make L less suspicious of him Light fucks the reader in his room? I thought that it was a hot idea♡ you dont have to do it if you dont want to😊

★ DECEPTION ─ fem!reader

#NOTES ─ i love you for requesting this i cannot tell you how many times i've day dreamed about this (sorry it took so long)

#WARNINGS ─ smut, cnc peeping toms (L), p in v,

#SUMMARY ─ "there was an elaborate plan set in place. but as soon as light's hands snaked around your waist you seemed to forget everything you were supposed to do and say." innocent until proven guilty

there was an elaborate plan set in place. but as soon as light's hands snaked around your waist you seemed to forget everything you were supposed to do and say. his moderately chapped lips kissing your cheek lovingly. much unlike how light usually behaved around you.

"light." his name left your lips, trying to warn him he'd made your mind go blank. but he knew.

"i know." he whispered back, displeasure laced in his voice. luckily, light was more than capable of carrying out the plan for the both of you.

"just let me do all the work." he muttered, his voice not loud enough to be picked up on by the mics on the camera but still he was careful with what he said.

he hoped you would be too. you nodded. looking up at light with a lustful look in your eye that he couldn't deny was making him a little aroused. light kissed your jaw, roughly. as if light was capable of doing anything without roughness.

"last chance to back out." it's not a soft tone, but it does let you know that he won't be mad at you if you do decide you don't want some random creep watching you have sex with your friend.

you shake your head, you weren't going to let him down now. and to be totally honest, the thought of someone watching you in such a vulnerable position was intriguing to say the least. light began to undress you once you'd given him your final consent.

meanwhile, L watched his screen with wider eyes than normal. his eyes grazing every pixel of the screen as he watched light take off your shirt. neglecting the other screens that were broadcasting equally, if not more, important information. L racked his brain trying to figure out if this was just a trick of if he was really witnessing this dirty scene play out.

all your clothes were off in what seemed like a blink of an eye. pressed into the mattress with light's knee inches away from your heated core. you dumbly pull at his tie, fucked out expression but light hadn't even gotten started with you yet.

"you got any thoughts in there at all?" he smirks. silently gloating now that he knew he had every single person he knew wrapped around his godly finger. there was not a thought behind your blown out pupils. it prided light to know he had such an effect on you.

"i haven't even done anything yet." he furthers. and L was hearing all of it.

you paw at the waist band of his bland khaki pants. light chuckled feeling your shaky hands trying to get more of him. his rubs his hand over your chest, caressing your nipple with his pointer and thumb.

"patient girls get rewarded." he tsks. he's met with a whine to which he chuckles again. he knows L will over analyze and find something wrong with the scenario if he doesn't hurry up.

"you wanna get rewarded?" he unbuttons his pants with one hand. you're eager, desperate. you need hm in a way you didn't even know it was possible to want one of your friend.

he reaches over you, grabbing a condom from the book shelf. it was wedged between two books. clearly he was trying to keep it hidden from his maid of a mom and his nosy sister.

he opens the condom with his teeth and you might as well just have hearts in your eyes as you watch him. the wrapper falls somewhere unimportant on the bed. he rolls the condom on. you knew it was only a matter of time before you finally felt full with his cock.

© 2023 MORBIDEROTICA

[anqelbean]

I need a bingqiu fic where everyone reverse transmigrates into the modern world but only Binghe and Mobei Jun remember their old world cause now THEY have the system and their task is simple: find their husbands and make them fall in love with them again.

Seems easy right? They've done it once already.

WRONG.

Because, when Binghe finds Shen Qingqiu, he's heartbroken to find that his Shizun's personality is almost the same as before his qi deviation in their previous life, and has absolutely no interest in him.

He also finds out that for some reason in this life Shen Qingqiu has a younger brother, Shen Yuan.

Shen Yuan is sweet and kind and pretty and gentle and funny and pretty. He's also closer in age to Binghe. Slowly Binghe starts to feel a devastating guilt every time he looks at him. He doesn't know where this man was in their previous life, but in this one. In this one Binghe is pretty sure he's falling in love with him.

He feels guilty because it feels like betraying his Shizun, his husband. He feels like the only reason he's in love with Shen Yuan is because he reminds him of his husband, but that's not fair to Shen Yuan either. It's like he's just replacing one brother for the other.

But no matter how much he tries he can't get Shen Yuan out of his mind.

Then his Shizun, Shen Qingqiu, starts dating Yue Qingyuan and Binghe's confused more than anything. He doesn't understand why he doesn't feel heartbroken. But when the System doesn't take away any points for this, he finally asks it "Hey, System." "Yes?" "Do you know why Shizun is acting as such?" "What do you mean? We've detected no abnormal behaviour from Shen Yuan." "No, not Shen Yuan, Shen Jiu— WAIT, WAIT, SHEN YUAN?????"

Then he finds out, this whole time, he's been going after the WRONG. GUY.

Shen Yuan, on the other hand is heartbroken.

Despite acting like he's straight his whole life (and very much believing it himself), there was just something that stabbed him in the chest every time he looked at Luo Binghe playfully flirting with his ge (while getting rejected every. Fucking. Time. Shen Yuan really doesn't know if his ge doesn't know the hottest guy on the planet is flirting with him, or if he's being an idiot and rejecting him).

He's gotten to know the guy quite well, and they have become quick friends. They talk, they text and they hang out, all the time. He finds that Binghe is an amazing cook (seriously, HOW can food be so good?). He also loves to read, and they proceed to rant about the books they've both read. He's also a huge cry baby. (Shen Yuan thinks it's cute)

And sometimes.

Sometimes he'll just look at Shen Yuan with so much, well, fondness. It's in those moments that Shen Yuan let's himself dream that maybe, maybe, this boy could be his.

Sometimes he'll say something that cannot be categorized as anything but shameless flirting.

Like the first time he made Shen Yuan congee. "This is the best thing I've ever had. Holy shit." "Ah, you like it that much? Alright then. I'll make it for you all the time, with variations." Then he proceeded to wink. WINK. (Shen Yuan did not blush. He did not. He's straight. It's just the halo-like light that surrounds Luo Binghe is enough to charm sven a straight man. Like him. Cause he's straight. Definitely.)

When his ge starts dating Yue Qingyuan. He expects Binghe to look heartbroken, but. He doesn't. He acts like nothing is wrong. Absolutely nothing is out of place.

Except he smiles at Shen Yuan with that fond look way more often. He flirts way more often. He cooks for him way more often.

Shen Yuan doesn't know how to feel about that.

Has this guy been some kind of playboy this whole fucking time? And when one target is no longer available, he just moves on? To his BROTHER? Yeah, no, scratch that, he knows exactly how he feels.

He's furious.

(Binghe has no idea why Shen Yuan seems so angry with him. He just wants to kiss his husband. Why must this always happen when they reunite?)

Mobei Jun on the other hand is having a, uhh, sorta better time. He's found Shang Qinghua. Shang Qinghua is the Shang Qinghua he knows, flighty, cowardly and cute. But, the thing is. Qinghua's absolutely terrified of him.

Every time he pops up next to him, he squeals and jolts so bad that one time he slammed into a door.

But he still blushes at their proximity. Still has the same taste in trashy novels. Still writes. Still loves having his hair ruffled.

They get together within 2 months. The system congratulates him 3 times.

[catcze]

OKOKOK BUT LIKE

Your idea about a reader who doesnt like tea BUT still drinks it just to spend time with wrio, and then they come clean eventually PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE that boy would cry </3 i need someone to write this omfggg

GOTCHU GOTCHU I GOTCHU BABY

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

This, all of this, starts because you're too polite. Too polite to refuse your boss' offer of tea one afternoon after sorting through files together, even though you cannot stand the stuff.

It was because he was very kind about it, you reason to yourself. Not to mention it's widely known that he's very fond of the drink. How would he feel if you refused? One cup wouldn't hurt. It's just one cup.

But turns out that it was not, in fact, just one cup. A few days after forcing yourself to drink the tea without cringing, after you've once again found yourself sorting and organizing papers in his office, he asks if you'd like tea again. So you gulp. And you say yes. Like an idiot. And now you're knee deep in the lie that you're as into tea as he is.

It's not all bad, though. Though you had taken his invitation out of politeness at first, you had found that his grace is actually very fun to talk to. He's much less rigid than other employers in the past, and you'd even dare to say that the atmosphere during tea is rather friendly.

Wriothesley lets you talk his ear off about whatever has caught your fancy recently— whether it be a new book you've read, or some news you've heard from the surface, he always listens whenever you talk. He gives you his full attention, nodding and asking questions where it's appropriate, sometimes even sharing bits and pieces of harmless gossip from around the fortress, too. And over time... well, you've found that you've become more willing to grin and bear the taste of overpriced hot leaf water, if just to be able to hang out with him. He's funny, what can you say. And nice. And he seems interested whenever you talk. And it 's definitely a plus that he's easy on the eyes too.

But the problem is that there is this guilt that weighs in your chest whenever you come over for your regularly scheduled tea time (regularly scheduled tea time!!! archons, the lengths you're going just to hang out with him) that only grows when he proudly shows you whatever new tea he's acquired for the both of you to have.

Wriothesley always gets this excited gleam in his eye, like a dog with a stick, and you'd be a monster to stomp on that excitement. So you nod, you ooh and you ahh and you always compliment the tea after, pulling flowery words and pretty descriptions out of thin air because even if it's just flavored water to you, he likes it.

Doesn't stop you from feeling guilty, though.

"I'm telling you—" Wriothesley says one fateful meeting for afternoon tea. You've yet to even touch your cup, but he's practically already finished half of the teapot. "I don't mean to assume, but I really feel like Jurieu and Lourvine? I really feel like those two are seeing each other, and just using their work as a cover," he sighs, taking a sip of his tea. "Not that it's even an issue if they are, but— hey, you okay? You're looking a little... unsettled, there."

And it's probably true. You've been sitting and debating if today was finally the day you're going to come clean. You've been pinging the thought around in your head before you've even stepped into his office. Worn you lip and the inside your cheek with nibbles as you feared how bad it could go.

You've no doubt that you look bothered. Your hands are gripping the teacup so tightly you think you might accidentally crack it any second.

"I... I have to tell you something," you blurt out, not meeting his eyes. The abruptness of it leaves him blinking.

"Is it the tea? If it's not to your liking, i can find a different blend," he offers, and you groan.

"No! Wait— yes! I mean, yes it's the tea but it's not—" the words come out a mess, and you're flustered. "It's not the brew of the tea I don't like. It's just that... I... Idon'tliketeaperiod." It's a jumble of words, slurring together as you spit it out so fast you barely understand what you said yourself. But you said it! You finally said it— oh, you can feel the guilt come off you like a weight, and you slump back into the seat, exhausted by the sheer effort it took to say that.

Wriothesley's lips are parted, brows furrowed as he looks at you, clear confusion on his face. "You don't... like tea?"

You shake your head weakly. "Nope."

"At all?"

"At all."

He pauses, like he's trying to process the concept of it. Then he laughs a little, finishing his cup in one swig, and leans back against his chair. He looks a little defeated, a hand running through his hair, mumbling under his breath that, that sure wasn't what he expected to hear.

"You could have told me sooner, you know? I do have more than just tea down here in my office. I can't imagine how many weeks you've had to put up with it."

You groan, hiding your face in your palms and cringing, because talking like this was not your definition of fun. Telling the guy you found attractive (despite his penchant for the worst tasting drink in Teyvat) why you stuck around was not what you had readied yourself to do today.

"I know," you say. "I just... It was to be polite at first, but overtime i found hanging out with you fun. You're nice to be around, and to talk to, and you listen to me talk even if I ramble. And..." you sigh, one hand coming to rub your temple, still hiding your face away in embarrassment. "And I don't know— drinking all that leaf water was worth being able to be around you. Or something. Ugh."

You're ready to be evicted from the office. For Wriothesley to toss you down the stairs and out his door or something. You're not expecting him to laugh, to sport a blush high on his cheeks. He clears his throat when you look at him in surprise, but he can't wipe the small smile from his face.

"Honestly, when you said you had something to say, I had expected it to me more along the lines of that," he admits, running a hand through his bangs. You're silent, still rather lost on what to do next, what to do now that the man you're smitten with had practically admitted to having wanted to hear a confession out of your mouth.

Wriothesley reaches across the table and gently plucks your untouched teacup out of your hands, bringin it to his own lips. You can still see his smile behind it brim.

"Well, if you still want to see each other, I'm not opposed. How does this weekend sound? We can go someplace that serves more than just 'leaf water', so you can enjoy your drink too."

The blood rushes to your face and your tongue feels heavy in your mouth. A date. Was he asking you out on a date?

"Yeah, sure," You respond when you get your mouth to work. Your heart is beating rapidly in your chest— you're excited. "This weekend works."

And Wriothesley's eyes gleam. He sets the teacup down, and that smile is back on his face. "Sounds good, sweetheart."

[doublekanble]

deer (in a head light)

Alastor/reader (gnc)

platonic-romantic. (almost everyone thinks you two are in love or is extremely baffled by the fact, a bit more romantic for me but can be seen as anything actually i just like writing people being sort of stupid)

word count: 5.6k.

or, collectively, everyone's reaction to the fact. Nifty is there👍. no real warning this is a normal fic part two to this.

Husk have never gone through this level of raw mental torture, while Angel thinks it’s absolutely hilarious how hard is it for Husker to accept that one of the most feared Overlord of all Pride Ring is vying for a cute lil fella like you. What started out as a small remark over the rim of a particularly strong cup of gin about how Alastor have been seemingly hovering around you, making small talks that you try to keep up with confused enthusiasm - soon turn into listing off every growing instances of odd affections that no one ever thought he’s capable of, but it’s yours in abundance.

You’re standing up with the intention of going outside? Unless he’s actively in a conversation (and several time, even during one) Alastor will find a convenient excuses to walk with you. You’re cold? Everyone else better be cold too, either that or hope to God he have anything to give you to wear. Hungry? Thirsty? Almost like a caretaker, he’s always making sure you have little bites of food and drink here or there, reminding you like clockwork. Staying in your room for the day? Your room is close to Angel, and the first time he come out of his room, fresh from a hangover, only to catch the tail end of a red coat and a greeting disappearing behind your door, it takes everything in him to try and rationalizing not breaking the door down.

(Husk thinks he was being overprotective. Angel brushed it off with a nervous chuckle. It’s a good thing, he remarks, if only Angel kept that attitude.)

The idea of Alastor actually taken interest in anyone, even positively, send shivers down his spine. Husk have been one of the older soul that fell into the hand of the sadistic Overlord, one that did just enough to keep his earn and do what he want when Alastor would’ve gotten busy with a new project or two. He knows he’s useful enough to Alastor, even with the occasional slipped up, learning quickly where to tread and where to back down. The Radio demon is insane, but he is surprisingly much more lenient with people than he often let on, but not as much as he is with you.

Which quickly became a thorn that Angel uses to dug into his side. Old battle-worn Husk cannot wrap his head around the fact that you, of all people in Hell, somehow get back on Alastor good side and stays there for longer than anyone thought you could.

You are more than bearable, don’t get him wrong. Good at reading and picking up on certain cues to pleased people (more particularly, the fact Husk likes to be alone most of the time), and in spite of being just a tad bit too stubborn at times, is generally a polite and entertaining thing to have around. It would’ve made sense for Alastor to wants to keep you for fun, if not for how you two started out.

Having missing out on your first introduction, all he have to go off of is your debrief of it on the one day you want to try whiskey. You’d damn near spat it out, opting to just sit with some soda instead (he didn’t try to poke too much, you’re almost like a pop-up pirate at time). Husk figured you would earn the ire of the most egotistical man he’d ever known, considering how you loudly asked Charlie for Alastor's resume as a way to try and barred him from working here.

Of course, that didn’t work, both you and Vaggie are long-time victims of Charlie convincing puppy gaze, and Alastor secured him and Nifty a spot at the hotel. But Husk was extremely adamant it would put you on a black book with Alastor, still remembering how Alastor grip on his cane would tighten just a bit whenever you spoke up on the first day. And yet, you get to laugh about it.

-

“Yer just bein superstitious kitten. At this point ‘m pretty sure dude just got the hots for them, nothing big.”  Angel fiddles with his phone on one set of hand, the other propping himself on the bar counter, holding a popsicle to his mouth. He wants to tell the spider that’s absolutely not how the word superstitious should be use, but he digressed. “We’ve been at this for days, if he gonna do something, we would’ve known.”

Husk scoffed, throwing the piece of cloth he’s been using to furiously wiping down a stain someone left on the counter over his shoulder.

“Yeah right, as if you can get your head out of your ass enough to see that.” He ignores Angel smirk, already knew where this can go if he let it, almost like a whisper, he spat. “I’m just saying, he ain’t the Radio demon for show. You lots know nothing about whatever he got planned in his shitty fucked up head.”

Forced contractor be damn, this bar is his pride and joy, or whatever’s left of it anyway.

At that, Angel sends his attitude right back, hand(s) flickering, “And I’m saying he’s head over heels. What? Ya wanna explain the fucker just- casually waltz up to them and kissin' their fucking hand as a morning greeting? Cus’ I’m calling bullshit. Nobody even doing that fucking thing anymore, and he’s doin’ it every chance he gets! Like, have you even seen them?!” Almost like a comedy setup, they both look over to the chattering at the top of the stairs.

Over the railing, you’re rushing off from Alastor’s side to catch up to Nifty, who’s desperately nagging you to come and help her with a spot she can’t dust off with a ladder, having long depleting the fun of falling off from it. And almost like instinct, he took your hand and planted a gentle peck, along with a well wish for your day.

You, with your other hand occupied and being dragged away too fast after the fact for you to formulate a real respond, simply perks up and laugh, waving at him before you fully give into the little bug-like demon and let her rushed the both of you to the other side of the hotel – Alastor stands and watch you fully disappearing behind a corner before turning his head and look directly at the pair. His mic sounding nothing except for a low drones of static.

Husk expertise kicking in, he looks straight ahead instead, wiping down the counter again just to be safe. Angel’s years of acting led him to immediately start talking about the latest project he’s involved in, popsicles stick held from his face. Husk can’t be too bothered by it this time, at least he’s reading the room. But even with their combined effort, it still doesn’t stop Alastor from manifested himself right by the bar, smiles almost pull taut, a too jolly “How is it going gentlemen?” and a request for a cup of moonshine, with a tune contorting just to sound much too whimsical for anyone else except him echoes from his microphone, and he’s off again.

“…y’know, you can just say you’re sorry for being wrong Whiskers~”

“Go fuck yourself.”

-----

Vaggie knows that no matter how much she tries to warn Charlie about the cannibal murderer in their own cozy hotel, her partner can and have constantly willed it away with loving words and cute beady eyes that she can’t fight against. Her loving and trusting nature always been the tried-and-true counter to Vaggie’s much more doubtful and skeptical side. Recalling the way you refer to it (two people working in harmony, balancing out each other’s nature, like a tango, a secret rhythm unknown to anyone but them), she smiles.

It dropped the moment she remembers the matter at hand, specifically, you, a friend that have grown dear to her heart, and the cannibal murderer she very much hated guts - growing close to yours. She’s not sure whether this qualifies for a tango when she’s dragging her feet and Charlie’s tap dancing.

Vaggie would’ve been glad you have virtually zero comment on the fact Alastor is getting close to you, and with her luck, purposefully ignoring it (what’s with you and dive bombing out of the conversation the moment the topic came up), if not for the fact Charlie is very insistent on letting you know all about it (=> conversation you have to dive out of). You and Vaggie traded favors all the time, exclusively about Charlie, who always try to bite off a bit more than she can chew.

Usually, you did a much better job on keeping Charlie from trouble than Vaggie actually can, having the heart she lacks to guilt her partner into keeping still or stop her from running into red light traffic. Yet a pattern emerges soon after this deal started that you three all pick up on, much to Charlie’s delight.

Somehow, some way, Charlie aged old puppy dog eyes are much, much more effective when the both of you are right next to each other. Alone, while Vaggie can’t turn her down, you can and have consistently do so. But together, you both would turn to each other, and you either would give into Charlie first, or wash your hand completely from the whole situation altogether, both decisions are equally awful, and often left Vaggie alone on the line of defense.

Like that time you asked for the Radio demon resume, being extremely firm on his demeanor being horrible for customer service and how unfit it would be for a hotel to house someone who clearly doesn’t want to help or be help. Vaggie remember the chills running up her spine as you stand firmly in the face of the greatest mystery to Hell even after all this time and not even batting an eye to his straining words or the implications of it. Even going so far as to point out that he’s a liability and can’t keep himself straight for anything worth the hotel’s effort.

Only for Charlie to held onto your (and Vaggie’s) hand and tell you both she can do this. She remembers it took you not even 5 second to turn towards her with a wistful gaze, a smile pulls on your lips, and put a hand on her shoulder.

Aside from her first real injuries, it was the biggest betrayal she’d ever gone through.

Vaggie like to think it doesn’t sting so badly that her partner and her friend are now growing more used to the giant red flag stalking their halls. If not also for the fact she have to be in on your effort of stopping Charlie from bringing up a weird line of conversation while you still - albeit not fully of your own volition - feeding into her girlfriend delusion of being a matchmaker. It wouldn’t be so hard if you just, try to at least calm Charlie down yourself, but your tendencies to avoid particularly specific conversation makes her boomerang from appreciation to pure exasperation.

Especially when she would be fighting her love for Charlie to keep your dignity intact.

“But Vaggiee…!” clinging onto her left arm, Charlie tries her best to bring her girlfriend’s eyes back to her. “Just look at them! They’ve never looked at anyone like that!”

She would love to argued otherwise, you have a habit of looking at everyone like that, something with making people feel more welcome to talk to you. But all thought vanished from her head when she turns to try and make an argument, and for a brief moment she forgot what they were talking about. Charlie’s good at distracting her, but she steeled herself and stop Charlie from jumping off into this and making it so much harder on you than it already is.

(God, the things Vaggie’d do for love.)

“I know you really want to, hun, but - I’m just, not sure about this. It’s Alastor we’re talking about. I get them being into him or whatever, but you’d really set them up with the Radio demon? You know…”

Charlie was slowly wilting a bit, but picks herself up at the hesitation, thinking it’s her chance, she races over her words. “A thoughtful, charming and-“

But still can’t finish fast enough, and Vaggie have to advert her eyes, she can’t handle a sad Charlie that well. “and a horrible cannibalistic freak, Charlie. He’s not a good person.” At that, her girlfriend really clings onto her.

“Vaggie…this is a hotel for redemption! We've got to believe that people can change…” Charlie’s not addressing her point, there’s no real way to denying the fact Alastor is really just who he is. A rotten, rancid piece of meat. Redemption be dammed when he doesn’t even believe in it. “And! I have proof that Alastor likes them~” Pulling out little drawn post-it-notes from her front pocket, Charlie nearly doubled over while trying to put all of them onto the table in front of Vaggie, and you.

“I’m going to go back to my room.” You abruptly stand up, nervously grinning while shuffling out of their office. Having sat completely stilled while hoping that you can somehow divert the topic ever since the start of the conversation, you gave up. Completely disregarding Charlie’s attempt at making you stay. “It’s late, and I should’ve been in bed some hours ago…”

“Wait! I swear that this time I-“ Charlie tries to reach for you again, but Vaggie held strong. Nodding towards the exit, you mouthed her a quick thank you as you walked out, wishing them both good night while gently pushing the doors close. “I have the proof…”

“C’mon babe…” visibly deflating, Charlie sat herself back into Vaggie’s arms with a pout. She doesn’t have the heart to press this too deeply, so she pushed back her hair and give her a small peck on her eyelid, she always did have pretty eyes. “You know they’re not going to listen to you if you keep ambushing them like this.”

“I know, but I just- really love them both…” Vaggie raised an eyebrow at that. “And they seem so, nice together. Alastor always makes sure to greet them every day, they always wished him goodnight-“ she scoffed.

“They do that for everyone hun, and I’m pretty sure that bastard just do it because…well, who knows? He’s weird, who knows what he’s thinking…maybe he’s just trying to- toot his own horns playing nice. He does that a lot.”

When Charlie stays still, Vaggie really thought she could end this tonight, for both your sake and her’s. But then, as if was given water from the spring of life, with her back straight, she sat right up and held firmly onto Vaggie shoulders.

“But he’s trying so hard for them! Don’t you see how he’s spending so much time just hanging around them? Oh, and don’t forget that he asked them, specifically them, what they think of his radio show! He doesn’t do that for anyone else Vaggie! He brings them food when they forgot to eat. They told him about stuff they would’ve ever tell us without prompting! And you have to see the way he looks at them when they’re just, sit together and, and-“

“Woah. Slow down Char. Through your nose.” Even like this, she’s endearing. She held Charlie’s arm and bring her closer.

“You have to see Vaggie, he looks at them like…how you look at me!” Vaggie pauses. Charlie is getting to her, she have to stop her from talking or she’ll give in. She thinks about how miserable you would be sitting through an actual talk about this, it doesn’t help.

“And, you’re one of the most wonderful things that happens to me, Vaggie. I love everyone in the hotel, and I would give my everything for them,” knowing her, she would “but you.” She breathes, and Vaggie feels her breath stuck in her throat. “You are my everything. We’re perfect together. And I really love them, and I just thought…”

Charlie looked at her with such a soft and gentle look, her eyebrows slightly drawn together, lips jutting out just a little bit. “I thought he’s perfect for them, that they’ll be perfect together too. I know he’s not the best person, and you don’t trust him. You don't have to. But I think he’s doing his best for them, and they’re doing so much for him too...” their hands, held tightly together “So please, trust me. I genuinely think this can work out. They deserve to be love like I did too.”

Vaggie tries so hard to held strong, opting to stay silent instead of replying and stoking the growing flame, but Charlie looks at her with her big shiny eyes, and she caved.

“…Alright… I guess he haven’t really…done anything to them yet…” before Charlie could jump up in joy, Vaggie tries to get her focus back “But if he touches a single hair on them- woah!”

Wrapped in her arms, Vaggie barely able to get out the full sentence as Charlie rambles on. “Oooh, thank you thank you thankyouthankyou I knew you’d understand! Oh there is so much I want to do too-“

“Charlie, bit too tight…”

“Oops! Sorry!”

Coming down from her high, she stares into her lover’s eye with the brightest grin possible. It takes everything in Vaggie to think about how disappointed you’ll be, so she closed her eye and takes a breath. “We have to let them sort it out themselves, though. No matchmaker.”

“But-”

“You know how closed off they can be. Give them time Charlie. They can find their own way home.” Like that, Charlie smiles a smile so bright and gentle, reserve only for Vaggie. “Like you and me?”

And all she can think is that this might not be that bad after all.

“Like you and me.”

----

“So...thissss is what the youth are…into?”

“Arguably, it’s somewhat better than what I have as a kid.”

Pentious squinted at the device in his hand, clawed hands carefully swipe through your ‘carefully curated feed’, whatever that means. You sat next to him on your balcony, various knick knacks on the side table he insisted you need, hands considerably less clawed holding a book you’ve never managed to get through past the 10th page, as you only ever try to read it when the moon is blue and you always ended up forgetting the previous pages, something he learned while he was helping with cleanups.

He’s flustered when you laugh at a joke without needing to look at the captions in the video, wanting to pretend he completely understood what just happened. It takes you a bit to calm down and explain to him what was so funny, it only serves to confused him further. You grin and handed your book over to Frank without putting a bookmark in first (who then immediately turns the page and started narrating half-way through to the other eggs), reaching for the phone.

“I’ll put on something a bit easier to get used to, is that ok with you?”

“But, aren’t we learning how to be ‘hip’?” you cackle, he tries not to shrink into himself.

“We can leave that for some other day i think, you don’t need to be hip or anything right now. And besides,” handing him your phone, he minded his claws, “I think you’re cool on your own.” You hum and turn to an open sketchbook on the table, picking up a pencil, you start to sketch one of the egg boiz running about your room.

Pentious nearly burst into tears, he should’ve known his friends (or, you) would’ve never made fun of him. Turning to your device again, his attention is immediately captured by a cat video.

You two stayed like that for what must’ve been an hour or two, occasionally checking up on what the other’s is doing. (he would show you the cutest video, you showed him your barely intelligible sketch. He feels like you’re sketching his nightmare he said, you’re flattered). With almost all of his eggies already tiring themselves out some time ago and gathered around both of your feet (and his tail), bundled up in your duvet and pillows. Except for egg boiz number 3, who’s in his lap as both are captured by a video of a dog getting a haircut (a mini-American shepherd, you chimed in happily that it’s one of your favorite video).

Then, the calm afternoon was broken by a singular knock to your door. You and your still cognizant companion(s) look up from your respective entertainment at hand and stare at each other. You glance over to him, head nodding towards the door, he shrugs, growing restless, you pat his shoulder as you stand up and walk away.

Pentious really did try to turn back and focus on the groomers narrating a particularly endearing moment in the nine minutes long video, but he can’t help but be on edge when a familiar voice sing a greeting too loud for him to ignore, and he realized just who is at the door, your door, his new best friend's door (verdict still out on whether you consider him as one).

Taking a peek, assuring to himself it’s to keep you safe, he locks eyes with red and half of his soul descend into the ring below, the other half turns him right back to your phone when the red starts to raise his eyebrows at him. He can keep you safe from a safe distance surely, but when he tries to hug the egg in his lap to comfort himself and feels nothing, he freezes. Horror-struck, he turns and look at you, specifically your back, the other half of his soul joins the first.

Without him realizing, number 3 already slipped out of his grasp and is now climbing on your shoulder and interjecting your conversation with the gentleman, who is now full-on glaring at him whenever your head slightly turn away. He gulped, but he still put your phone back onto the table and stand up, forget to mind his still sleeping minions at his tail. Thank Lucifer they decided to stay silent for once.

“I was just going to stay in tomorrow too… maybe- oh, Sir Pentious? What’s up?” You stare at him, easy-going as always. Almost like you’re unaware of the way Alastor is smiling at him. Pentious can only thank whoever is in charge of fate for the fact you slotted yourself right between them, and cursed them all the same for the fact you can’t covered up the demon’s face.

Clearing his throat, he tries to steered his nerves and curb his stuttering. “I see that someone have rudely interrupt our study session. May I have your permission to…”

At the sounds of radio static grows, his words in turns wilted as he stares into bright, glowing red and yellow growing in volume. Luckily, you manage to pick this up and covered for him. “Oh no don’t worry, Al was just asking when I’m free to hang out with.” As you turn to that same terrifying shade of red, it immediately transformed into a charming smile.

“Why, hangout is such a casual term dear. I prefer to call it a trip! Much more exciting that way.” With his usual theatrics delivery and a backing of voices coming from the microphone staff he uses to give you a gentle knock on the head, clashing with your much more casual tone brushing him off, Pentious wishes he can see this as endearing.

“Oh you’re trying to goat me into going back there again.” That wasn’t a question on your end. Alastor smiles in amusement, but it strained when number 3 chimes in and tries to asked you where is back there. He’s extremely grateful the demon chooses to ignore it, letting you entertain the egg instead.

“I do not know what you’re referring to at all.” Closing his eyes and leaning a bit to the side, the demon bounces a bit on the tip of his shoes and sings. “Otherwise, it seems my presence is making our welcomed guest uncomfortable.” Pentious tries to stand tall for you and number 3, but Alastor preference for getting up close and personal is mincing his confidence to bits. “I guess I will settle for an extra visit by tonight to talk a bit more about your hectic schedule, if that’s alright with you Ma chère?”

You laugh a bit and agrees with him, saying a quick sorry while he brushed it off with a smile, adjusting his coat’s flawless lapel with one hand, the other reaching for yours. Lifted up to his lips, he planted there a kiss with a look that can passed off as soft. Pentious looks away the moment their eyes lock again, whistling like he hasn’t been blanching at the two of you.

As you turn to close the door, he could’ve sworn red dials were looking at him in the seconds you look back to him, completely in contrast with the life-threatening aura now stand outside the door.

“Haha, sorry about that. I didn’t have time earlier and he was busy, so…” you trailed off, explanation offering him nothing but more questions. “I’ll try to be a bit more mindful about this next time, yeah? Didn’t know he still held something against you.”

You want to keep doing study sessions with him? He perks up a bit at the implication, while choosing to ignore the second part, until his egg started speaking.

“Uh, boss number two, why does Alastor kiss your hand so much?” Number 3 raises his hand, still sitting snugly in your arms. Pentious makes a note to make him sleep on the edge of the bed tonight. It doesn’t help that you’re leading them back to the others, who also started to chime in with their own questions. He can tell this time you’re getting a bit miffed, smiles growing a bit taut and looking off somewhere, unable to let them somehow ruin your goodwill towards him, he cracked. “SILENCE! Cease with your silly questions right now!”

You look at him, and he would’ve shrink into himself if not for how you seem more surprised than angry, as your brows relax and you smile a bit, he let himself breathe. “It’s alright, they’re cute, they can get away with a little questioning I think. And hm…” you bounce on your feet in a slightly familiar manner, he sweats a bit. “-I mean, it’s normal for friends to be close, so I don’t see any problem with it.”

“Oh…friends can kiss each other on the hand?” number 1 jump up. You laugh.

“Of course they can. Alastor loves getting into people’s space too, so I wouldn’t put it past him.”

He would’ve tried to say something and help you out with the questioning, but it hit him that at least in his time, the specific to the gesture was more of a formal greeting. But he takes into account the fact it's Alastor, and how whenever he sees you two together, the Radio demon always seemingly follows after your heels like a shadow tie too tightly, and he shivers. Anxiety fills his heart as he tries to navigate this thought.

“I do have to say, why is it that he tends to get so…closssse…to you?” You visibly stiffen at this, but as he takes your hand in his, trying his best to be tactful, still minding the claws, you stare. “Could it be…he’s trying to threaten you, dear friend?” he tries to recall how you comforts him in time of distress, and did his best to echoes the same sentiment to you.

“Whatever it is, you can share it to me! I will, uh- “

“You’ll duel him, right boss?”

his eggs chimes in where he falters, he follows their lead.

“Duel! Yesss! A duel to the death! That Radio bastard will regrets the day he-“ You squeeze his hand, and he drop his false bravado and let you seated him back on the balcony, letting number 3 dropped from his spot in your arms to the duvet covering the floor.

(with much less grace compared to you, but all the heart. he takes the fact you’re still around that he’s doing great.)

“We don’t need any of that silly. He’s my friend, I think.”

You fall back onto your seat, number 1 climb up to your lap with a question. “You two are friends? Like with boss?” sitting up, you sing an enthusiastic agreement while reaching for your notebook again. Pentious swore the sketch is looking more and more familiar by the line.

“Yeah, like with Sir Pentious! Al’s intimidating but he’s fun to hang around.” Hunching over while minding number 1 watching in your lap, your grin drops to something a bit kinder. He feels like he’s overstepping, despite the fact the room is void of anyone else. “He nice to talk with, I’ve never seen him shutting up on anyone else’s terms. That’s a good thing.” He wanted to say that’s a bit too barebone, even for himself, but then, turning to him with a smirk, you added. “Don’t tell him i said this, but he’s ssssuch a bitch sometimes. It’s fun though.”

Nodding with a much more serious look, Pentious takes your word as a command. “Not a word to my grave!”

“Hehe, that’s why you’re my favorite.”

Refocused on your sketch, you trust Pentious to be able to work your phone a bit better than before. He thinks he would’ve work it better if not for the tears gathering in his eyes, he takes the tissue paper you handed him without looking and wiped it away, only to panic about the long scratch he left on your screen. You laugh and assured him it’s fine, you can change the screen.

(verdict be dammed, you’re HIS best friend.)

(he took a peek at your sketch before you turn the page, and it hit him why it looks so off-putting. Antlers sprouting from two end on a figured too lanky to make out the physique of, but familiar enough all the same. He’d much prefer you go back to sketching his eggies, he said, you happily complied and he leave your room after with 5 torn note full of egg sketches and another schedule study session he pray you'll relay to Mister Alastor.)

---

“There you are darling! I was looking everywhere for you.” Calling out with joy, then stopping to take in the sight. He steadied you with one hand while you stop to catch your breath, nearly doubled into him. “I can see that you’re quite busy, seems like Nifty is giving you quite the run for your money huh!”

“Please…shut up…” you don’t need to look at him to know he’s enjoying this way more than you do, laughing at your utterly exhausted state. “I didn’t know there’s this much bugs in here… How can she even keep tracks of them??”

“Don’t feel too bad now, that one mind and health both are simply wonders to behold! Even I can’t keep up with her at times.” Trying to dust off your shoulders, he looked offended when you just swatted his hands away, waiting for an explanation.

“We’re not done yet, she’s just in the kitchen for a bit.” You pulled out your phone to check the time, Alastor squinting his eyes besides you, leaning over to keep watch and raising an eyebrow at the long scratch on the glass. “One hour before I’m free…”

“Thinking of giving up then~?”

“Yeah.”

Laughing at your tone, he takes your hand and twirl you, but not too much! Just enough daze you a bit. “Well darling, I would love to whisk you off with me for a trip downtown! I’m running low on good meat, and simply can’t afford to stained my coat while the tailor’s out of commission. But knowing you…” he’d look down-right sad if you let him. He can tell you try to keep your expression neutral, but your smile is growing to match his.

“No Al, an hour is-“

“An hour is an hour. Yes I know dear but it’s dreadfully boring without you.” Holding on still, he brings his face close to you, taking delight in the growing red on your face and you acting like nothing is out of the sort.

“You’ll survive Alastor. Nifty however…” As the sound of tiny footstep calling your name quickly approaching, he can’t help but letting a long, drawn-out sigh, backing off from you. A lost for him. You smile.

“Over here Nifty!” calling out to the little woman, you step away from Alastor to meet her half way, her stopping just before she hit your leg.

“You! I’ve been looking for you where have you been! I saw SOOOO many of them but they’re on the ceiling and I can’t reach them at all you've got to come help me – oh hiii Alastor!”

Nifty stops pulling you down the hall again just to give him a violent wave, dancing from one foot to the other and giving him time to catch up to you two, fully aware of your tradition from the moment it first started. Alastor smiles border on self-pleasing, gracious of Nifty’s effort to not drag you away just yet, less so the fact she would stares with such a wide grin. Nevertheless, he takes your hand again and bring it up, speaking all the while.

“Nifty, dearie, won’t you work our dear friend here a little less? I need them to-“ he pauses as you suddenly grip his hand and bring it up to your lips, too quick for him to stop you. And before he knew it, you both disappeared behind the corner yet again. Nifty voices and your cackle echoing down the empty hall way.

When he came back, aware of how the light flickering above his head now finally stabilizing itself, he laughs. Steadying himself, Alastor brushed off his coat and fix his monocle. Humming along with a love song slowly trickling from the microphone while walking the same way you and Nifty ran off to before. He have time to spare while waiting for you.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Elementary, Chapter Two

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x teacher!reader

chapter rating: M (no explicit smut but my blog is always 18+ ONLY, just one steamy makeout but the smut show begins next chapter so strap in 😎 as always, i cannot force myself to reread my own writing so this isn’t proofread)

word count: 4.9k

series masterlist | joel masterlist | joel playlist

It was Saturday afternoon, your book club meeting nearly wrapped for the day. You were delighted to see Sarah’s face, half-expecting both her and her father to forget about the meeting, but she was one of the first ones here.

Joel greeted you with a shy wave and a smile as he walked her into the small room in the corner of the library, his grey t-shirt and jeans fitting him far too well.

“Mornin’,” he greeted, both of your eyes trailing away to watch Sarah make a bee-line for the snack table. “That’s my fault, I forgot to make a grocery run.”

“That’s what they’re there for,” you waved off his worry and fixed your eyes on his again.

“I, uh, tried to keep up,” he held up his copy of Sense and Sensibility, surprising you with how far into the book his bookmark rested, not quite where the rest of you were but not too far off. “I don’t know about that Willoughby guy…somethin’ seems off.”

“Oh, yeah?” you chuckled, shifting your weight onto one hip and crossing your arms over your chest as you eagerly waited his assessment. Joel cracked a charming half smirk and nodded confidently.

“Yeah. No man is that perfect.” You snorted a laugh and eagerly agreed. “So I got it, then? He’s a bad guy?”

“No comment,” you replied with an untamable grin, something about his presence filling you with a girlish giddiness you hadn’t felt in years.

“Sarah!” Sarah’s new friend, Jessie, squealed when she entered the classroom and spotted her, causing both you and Joel to look over with proud smiles.

“This was a good idea,” Joel turned back to you. “Hadn’t realized how sheltered she was. It’s nice to see her have a friend.”

“We all deserve friends,” you noted.

“You know, if you ever need a friend…I’m right here,” he offered with a shrug, busying his eyes by looking down at the book he was holding.

“Would Sarah be okay with her dad and teacher being friends?” you asked, Sarah’s well-being your ultimate responsibility and priority over whatever you happened to be feeling for her father.

“Yeah, we, uh, talked about it…I may have made a comment about how pretty you are,” he chuckled in embarrassment and rubbed the back of his neck. “And she’s been teasin’ me about it since.”

“Pretty, huh?” you smirked and relished in the blush you brought to his face, his eyes rolling as a husky chuckle slipped from his lips. “Well, Joel, if I ever need a friend, how can I go about getting in touch with you?”

“Right,” he nodded, frantically reaching into his pocket to pull out his flip phone, your lip caught between your teeth as you watched him struggle to find his phone number—of course he didn’t know it by heart. “Alright, you ready?”

You clicked your pen and pulled out your post-it note/bookmark, jotting down his number as he read it out to you.

“Are we gonna start or what?” Harriet snapped from her wheelchair, making both you and Joel laugh.

“I’ll be back to pick Sarah up at eleven,” he tapped his book with yours before walking out of the room, only stopping to place a kiss on his daughter’s forehead before disappearing, leaving your heart longing for more.

Taking a deep, necessary breath, you turned to the group and smiled. “Alright, how far did everybody get this week?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look at your phone so goddamn much since you got the damn thing,” Tommy teased his older brother as they walked around their favorite H-E-B supermarket, Joel determined to surprise Sarah with a fully stocked fridge and pantry for once.

“Yeah,” Joel mumbled as he swore he felt a buzz in his pocket, tugging his flip phone out for the twentieth time since stepping inside the store, hoping to see a message or an incoming call from you.

“That the plummer for the project on 15th Street?” Tommy asked as he loaded a case of Gatorade into the bottom of the cart.

“No, it’s, uh—“ Joel was nervous, having gone so long without having a romantic life that he started to feel like a teenager again, too embarrassed by the weight of his crush to tell anybody. “Sarah’s at her book club so I’m just makin’ sure I don’t miss her call if she needs me to pick her up early.”

“And her ‘pretty’ teacher ain’t got nothin’ to do with that?” Tommy teased with a grin, amused by the look of betrayal and embarrassment on his older brother’s face.

“Sarah told ya, huh?”

“Yep,” Tommy laughed and took over pushing the cart. “You ask her out yet?”

“Not yet,” Joel sighed, the idea of going on a first date at his stage in life seeming ridiculous. What would they even do? Go to a movie? Go out to dinner? It all seemed too…cliche. “What do people even do for dates anymore?”

“Take her to Lady Bird Lake or a museum or somethin’. She’s a teacher, she’ll be into all that,” Tommy suggested. Joel nodded at the advice, making a mental note of it before being interrupted by the first actual ring of his phone all morning.

“Hello?” Joel answered the unsaved number with a hopeful heart.

“Joel?” your voice responded, bringing a smile to his face.

“Hey,” he greeted, sounding more like himself. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chirped, but he could tell there was something you were holding back.

“Sarah’s okay, right?”

“Yes! Sarah’s alright, she’s waiting here with me—“Joel heard his daughter greet him in the background. “The meeting ended a bit early, and I was trying to start my car, but it looks like I have a dead battery. Is there anyway I could get a jumpstart?”

“Oh—yeah,” he mouthed to Tommy that they needed to go checkout, Tommy pushing the cart towards the registers without needing any further instruction. “We’re just checkin’ out at H-E-B, but I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

“Sounds good, thank you,” you breathed a sigh of relief.

“No need to thank me. It’s what friends are for,” he hoped his attempt at playfulness didn’t fall flat, and judging by your chuckle, it hadn’t.

“That and lots of other things.” Joel’s heart sped up as he contemplated the other things. “See ya in a bit.”

“So,” Sarah started as she sat beside you in your well-used Ford Focus, the two of you reading as you waited for Joel to arrive. “You married?”

You laughed at her bluntness, looking over at her only to see her deadpanning. “No, I’m not married. Not anything.”

“Why not?” You laughed again, this time incredulously.

“I’ve been wondering that myself.” She didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, making you shrug and giggle again as you tossed your hands up. “I don’t know, maybe it’s the men I go after.”

“Like my dad?” You blushed and turned back to your book, finally pulling a laugh from the girl much wider than her years. “I think it would be cool if you two started to go out.”

“What makes you think we want to go out?” you challenged with a smirk, trying and failing to erase it from your face.

“I haven’t seen my dad try this hard since…well, ever,” she chuckled. “And both of you always have this stupid smile on your face after you see eachother. I’d say that’s a pretty big tell.”

“You’re too observant for your own good,” you noted as you felt your cheeks creep with heat, embarrassed that she’d caught you.

A few quick honks cut off the conversation, both of you stepping out of the hot car to greet Joel as he and another man pulled up in front of where you were parked. Joel climbed out of the passenger seat with a smile, striding over to both of you with two water bottles in hand, giving you each one.

“Drink up, it’s hot as hell today,” he commanded and both of you obeyed.

“Hey,” his companion stepped out of the drivers side and joined the three of you, giving you a nod. “I’m Tommy, Sarah’s uncle.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you,” you held your hand out for him to shake and he grinned mischievously.

“Likewise.” Your cheeks heated again despite the cold water bottle cooling you down.

“Mind if I pop the hood?” Joel pointed at your car, your head eagerly nodding in response. You watched him closely as he walked over to the drivers side, bending down to find the hood release. His shirt stretched over the broadness of his back, a line of sweat darkening the gray fabric down his spine. With a sudden thirst, you took a healthy chug of your water, hoping it would soothe the fire burning inside of you.

“Thank you guys,” you started as you turned to Tommy, needing to distract yourself from Joel.

“It’s no problem,” Tommy assured, his arm draped around Sarah’s shoulder. “How was, uh, book club?”

“Oh!” Sarah chimed, earning a furrowed brow look from her father as he walked over to the bed of the truck to grab some jumper cables. “Can I go over to Jessie’s house tonight? She’s having a sleepover—“

“I don’t know,” Joel exhaled as he returned. “I need to talk to her parents first.”

“I have their number,” you offered, pulling your phone out of your purse. “If you want it.”

“Sure,” he gave you a tired smile and trailed his eyes over your form properly for the first time since he arrived. Your hair that was once freely falling had now been put up, the sweat on the back of your neck causing your hair to stick to your skin in a way that bugged you. Your makeup was probably well into oily territory, your mascara smudged the last time you checked it in the car’s rearview mirror. The only thing half-presentable about you was the sundress you were wearing, it’s floral, cotton fabric flowing in the warm April breeze. “Uh,” he caught himself staring and quickly turned his gaze back to his daughter as he fished out his cellphone. “Here—you can type it in.”

After giving Sarah the phone number, she and Tommy retired back to the cool a/c in his truck, leaving you and Joel alone. An irresponsible thing for the two of you to be.

“Care to show me how it’s done,” you asked, unable to stop yourself from wanting more from him—more attention, more of his voice, more…everything. Being around him made you feel like you were burning alive, and yet strangely enough, the only time relief came to you was when you got closer to him.

“No one ever taught you how to jumpstart a car?” he teased with a smile, glancing over at you as he clamped the metal prongs onto the negative and positive sides.

“Not really,” you chuckled, pointing at the opposite colors. “So black goes on negative and red goes on positive?”

“Yep,” he nodded before pointing at the inside of the car. “Go on and try to start it up.”

“Just start it?” you asked, worried about messing up.

“Yep, like you normally do,” he encouraged you with a smile, watching you as you sat down in the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. Both of you gasped at the sight and sound of your battery sparking and then smoking. “Shit.” He walked over to the now ruined battery and investigated as you came out to join him. “Wasn’t your fault, my cords must be fucked or somethin’. I’m sorry—just ruined your battery.” He sighed and gave you an apologetic look, but you were quick to brush it off.

“Don’t worry about it,” you placed your hand on his arm and watched as his head turned to look at the contact before locking his eyes with yours. You fought the urge to worship his biceps like your celibate and cavewoman-like hormones were urging you to and pulled your hand away. “I’ll just call a tow truck and have them tow me to an auto-shop.”

“They’ll take you for all you got.” He shook his head and gestured back at the truck. “We can take ya to go get a new battery for almost free.”

“Almost?” you chuckled, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, the only payment I ask for is maybe…a date?” He gave you a bashful but hopeful smile as he tucked his hands in his front pockets. “Maybe tonight?”

You stared at him with a widening grin, pleasantly surprised by his proposition. You hadn’t thought he’d make the first move, at least not this soon. Throwing caution to the wind, you nodded, your stomach fluttering as you watched him sigh in relief.

“Alright, well, let’s work on gettin’ you a new battery and go from there.” Joel waited for you as you locked your car up and joined him again, following him over to the backseat of his truck. He opened the door for you, giving you that warm smile that was beginning to feel like a drug as you climbed in beside Sarah.

Joel remained outside as he unhooked the cables from their working battery to your dead one, shutting the hood of the truck with a firm slam. He ungracefully hopped into the passenger seat, looking over at his brother.

“Take us down to the Autozone,” he ordered, Tommy glancing back at you with a raised brow and smile as he waited for his brother to use his manners. Joel sighed, “Please.”

“That’s better.”

It took under an hour to go get your new battery, bring it back to your car, and have Joel install it. As he bid you goodbye, he let you know he’d give you a call once he figures out a time for your date tonight, and you couldn’t help but beam with excitement.

The entire rest of the afternoon was spent going through your closet, taking the longest shower of your life, and fussing with your hair, wanting to be ready if Joel chose to be last minute with your plans—which normally would thoroughly turn you off, but you were weak when it came to Joel.

Thankfully, Joel called at three, asking if you’d like to join him for a walk at Lady Bird Lake. You eagerly accepted the offer, mildly surprised by the unconventional choice in date but not disappointed with it.

As you sat in the living room, you heard a car approach your house and moved to peek through your window, the same dark pick-up truck from earlier rolling into your driveway. You grinned as you watched him hop out of the drivers seat, dressed in a crisp white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. He looked so masculine and broad, but there was something in the warmth of his smile, the deepness of his eyes, that showed he was soft, too.

Quickly heading to your front door, you opened it before he could knock, his look of surprise when you swung the door open turning into a smile as he took you in—a sage green wrap dress that fell between your ankles and knees, your makeup soft and complimentary, your smile knee-weakening.

“You look so pretty,” he complimented softly, as though you weren’t meant to hear it. “Uh, got these for you.”

Joel handed you a bouquet of yellow daisies and you gave him a touched frown, kissing your teeth as you pressed the petals to your nose.

“This is very sweet,” you gave him a smitten grin and gestured back into your house. “Let me just go put these in some water. You’re welcome to come in.”

“Alright,” he followed you into your house and down the hall to your kitchen, his eyes scanning the scene as though your home would reveal some hidden secret about you. “This is a nice place.”

“Thanks,” you replied as you filled a vase with water at the sink. “I found it for a really good price last summer, and now the owner’s gonna sell it to me.”

“Take it you like Austin then. You from around here?” He asked, leaning his hip against the counter.

“Nope,” you continued to tell him where you were from. “But I do love it here. Besides, I’m getting older. Seems like a good investment.”

“Old,” he repeated with a smirk. “You ain’t nowhere near old. Me on the other hand—“

“You’re what, mid-thirties?”

“33,” he corrected. “But my body is pushin’ seventy.”

“You haven’t heard the way my bones crack when I get up every morning,” you joked, earning a laugh.

“We’ll just have to be gentle with each other, then,” Joel quipped, not taking much time to think before he spoke. He internally cringed at the way you looked away and chuckled awkwardly, scolding himself for his stupid joke.

“Hopefully not too gently.” You shot him a wink and every worry of his faded into oblivion. “Alright, then, shall we?”

“Yeah,” Joel swallowed his desire and walked you out to the truck, helping you into your side before seating himself. “You ever been to the lake?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “Is it pretty out there?”

“It’s pretty, but you’re gonna give it a run for it’s money in that dress,” he flirted, shooting you a glance and a peek at the smile he was wearing proudly. Your cheeks turned hot at his compliment and you rolled your eyes, grinning like a lovesick teenager.

“You’re a flirt,” you pointed out.

“Me?” He laughed. “I haven’t flirted in…shit, I don’t know how long it’s been.”

“Well, you’re a natural, then,” you nudged his arm with your elbow and felt dizzy by the sparks shooting through your nerves by the simple contact.

“Sarah gave me a run down of things I should and shouldn’t do tonight,” he filled you in.

“Oh yeah? What are the do’s?” you implored with an amused smile, watching his profile as he drove.

“Pay, open doors, and ask questions,” he replied.

“And dont’s?” Joel chuckled and shook his head.

“She said I’m not supposed to kiss you until the second date.” You scoffed and waved that thought away. “You disagree?”

“Strongly,” you answered him with a laugh, Joel laughing along with you.

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind, then.” He shot you a wink and you felt like your heart was being shocked back to life. “I haven’t been on a date in so long. You gotta let me know if I’m fuckin’ this up.”

“You’re doing just fine, trust me,” you assured. “I can’t tell you the amount of shitty dates I’ve gone on, so the bar isn’t very high for you tonight.”

“Well, that’s sad,” he chuckled and shot you a lingering look as he stopped at a red light. “Hopefully I can break this streak of shitty dates.”

“I think you’ve already done it,” you laughed. “I mean, I can’t think of a first date that sacrificed hours of his life to replace my car battery on a Saturday afternoon.”

“You’re right, I’m setting the bar high,” he chuckled and shrugged. “Gonna have to change your oil next time just to keep up my reputation, then for the third date maybe rotate your tires—“

“Are these euphemisms?” you asked with mischief in your smile, not knowing the way you made his heart speed up with it.

“You make me nervous,” he admitted with a smile, his cheeks flushed pink. When he turned to look at you, he saw a bitten smirk, his head shaking. “That amuse you?”

“A little,” you nodded.

“Callin’ me a flirt,” he shook his head in mock scolding. “Look at you.”

After your leisurely walk in the park—the green of the grass and array of colors from the flowers and butterflies swarming in the air just as beautiful as Joel attempted to describe it on the way over—you and Joel found yourselves outside of an ice cream shop, sharing a chocolate and strawberry sundae.

“How are you not terrified every day? I only have Sarah to look out for and I can hardly manage, I can’t imagine a class full of ‘em,” Joel spoke, watching you as you spooned the last bit of the ice cream into your mouth.

“It’s scary at first, but then you develop this sort of bond with them—it just happens naturally, and it makes you feel responsible for them. You know? It’s just like…I feel a responsibility to show them some peace and understanding, because who knows what they have going on at home. I show up for them because I might be the only person that’s doing that, you know?” You shrugged, trying not to read into the way he was looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, his posture relaxed as he sat back in the metal patio chair. “You gotta stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” He chuckled, amused by your fluster.

“Like that.” You gestured at his head. “You know exactly what you’re doing, giving me those pretty brown eyes—“

Joel’s laugh cut you off, his head shaking. “I’m just listening to you talk, I have no control over my pretty brown eyes.”

“Mmhm,” you rolled your eyes and chuckled. “Whatever you say.”

“I, uh—Sarah’s away tonight. If you wanted to come over—“ Joel watched as you lifted an eyebrow. “Not for that—well, I mean—but I just meant to continue talking. We have a pool—“

“Why didn’t you start with that?” You stood upright and snapped your fingers at him, earning a grin. “Chop, chop, Mr. Miller.”

Joel made a pit stop at your place so that you could change into a swimsuit, throwing your dress back on over it before hurrying back out to the truck. Once inside his house, you found yourself studying the scene much like he had earlier at yours. It felt almost unreal to be in his space, the intimacy of walking the same halls he walked every morning and night turning you drunk.

“Pools out back, I’m gonna grab us some beers.” You nodded at him as he broke off towards the kitchen while you kept forward towards the sliding glass door to his patio.

Pulling the door open, you were surprised to see a rather nice little backyard set up. He draped yellow string lantern lights in zig zags from fence to fence, illuminating the pool and patio table.

“Here you go,” Joel appeared from behind you, handing you a beer before walking over to the table and taking a seat. You joined him, giving him an expectant but playful smirk as you entered a staring match. “What’s got you smilin’ like that?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged, turning your grin towards the pool. “I’m just having a good time.”

Joel’s chest swole with pride at your confession.

“You wanna get in? It’s heated.” You gave him an impressed up and down, making him chuckle.

“Fancy,” you teased as you stood up, avoiding his eyes as your hands found the knot holding your wrap dress together. Before you could move to untie the knot, Joel’s hands rested over yours, his body now standing tall in front of you. Your eyes shot up to meet his and your breath faltered, his lips just a few inches away.

“May I?” Joel asked for permission as he replaced your fingers on the knot with his own. You gave him a quick nod, your lips parting as you waited with bated breath for him to undress you. Joel slipped the knot undone, the dress falling open. His eyes traveled from your face down the front of your body as he slid the dress off your shoulders, leaving you in just your swimsuit. His hands were quick to touch your skin, a soft gasp spilling from your lips at the fire his skin on yours caused. “You’re too beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful,” you praised, lifting your hand to cup his bearded cheek. Joel’s lips curled up at the sound of your compliment, his hands giving your waist a squeeze. “Remember that rule we talked about breaking earlier?”

“Uh-huh,” Joel nodded, leaning in to fill the gap between your lips until he was crashing into you, your fingers threading into his hair as you accepted the attack. Joel moaned as you tugged on his hair, walking you back against the table and hoisting you onto the metal. “You taste so sweet, baby.”

“I want you,” you whined, earning a growl of desperation as he licked and sucked his way down to your neck, fighting the urge to leave his mark on you.

“Hey, neighbor?” Joel’s older neighbor called from over the fence, interrupted their heated makeout. He sighed and rested his forehead on your shoulder as he tried to gather his composure enough to form a response.

“Yep?” Joel called back.

“Your girl’s locked out, just came knockin’ on our door.” Joel’s brows furrowed and he immediately straightened up, his eyes apologetic as he handed you your dress.

“Thanks,” he called back before placing a kiss on your cheek. “Sorry, baby.”

“It’s okay,” you assured as you tied your dress, the throbbing between your thighs persistent but the sound of him calling you baby was a more-than sufficient distraction, filling your stomach with butterflies.

You sat back down at the table and waited until Joel came back out, your fingers drawing hearts on the dust covering the table. When you caught yourself, you scoffed, disgusted by the cutesy feelings filling you to the brim, and wiped the table with your palm. Walking over to the edge of the pool, you rinsed the dust off and listened as the glass door slid open.

“Hey,” Sarah greeted, her voice nearly making you fall into the water as you weren’t expecting it. “How was the date?”

You stood up and chuckled, ignoring her question by changing the subject. “How was it at Jessie’s?”

“It was good, just didn’t want to spend the night,” she informed as she sat on one of the patio chairs, swinging her feet.

“Where’s your dad?” You weren’t sure what to say to her and desperately wanted Joel to come out to help carry the burden of this awkward tension.

“Using the bathro—“

“Nope,” he interrupted as he stepped outside, mouthing an apology to you as he walked over to her and kissed her head. “Can you go inside for a second?”

“Sure thing,” Sarah gave you a knowing smile as she left the two of you alone, closing the glass door behind her.

“Sorry,” he stepped to you, placing his hands on either side of you face. “Don’t think we’re gonna get to continue that tonight.”

“It’s alright,” you rubbed his chest.

“When can I see you again?” he asked, eyes full of reverence as he looked at you.

“Whenever,” you shrugged, pinching his chin. “I’m free after five every night.”

“I’ll try to talk Tommy into babysitting on Friday.” You grinned at his suggestion and nodded your head. “Lemme grab Sarah and we’ll drive you home.”

“Wait—“ You stopped him before he could get too far, tugging him down for a deep kiss, his arms wrapping around you and squeezing you so tight that you hoped it would last all week until you saw him next, but the minute he let go of you, you already missed him. “One more kiss.”

“One more,” he repeated as he kissed you again, slow, deep, and lingering, the two of you procrastinating. Finally, you gathered the will to pull away, chuckling at your breathlessness. “Alright, if we don’t stop now, I’m just gonna keep on torturin’ myself.”

“Not into that?” you quipped seductively, tilting your head at him as you tucked your hands into the back pockets of his jeans to pull him closer. Joel chuckled and shook his head at you as though you were testing every ounce of his strength.

“I’m gonna have my hands full with you, aren’t I?” he husked, leaning back in to place a feather-light kiss to your lips as you responded with a grin.

“Your hands are already pretty full, wouldn’t you say?” Joel laughed against you and gave your ass a squeeze, his palms having already been firmly planted there.

“Oh, I like you,” Joel hummed, pecking your lips once more before pulling away. “Here,” Joel handed you his keys before pinching your chin. “Start the truck up and I’ll go get Sarah.”

“Sure thing,” you beamed as you watched him start towards the house, stopping him once more with your voice. “Joel?”

“Yeah?”

“I like you too.” You and Joel stood there lovestruck, a chuckle slipping from his lips as he struggled to find the strength to take you back home, not ready for the night to be over. But knowing that the best things come to those who wait, Joel took a breath of patience and smiled.

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 3

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Plus size!reader

Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, maybe. I don't think anything else. Sorry if there are typos.

Words: 1720

The One I Want Masterlist

---

Jake Seresin is a wizard. Or a mind-reader. Or some creature with wildly sensitive hearing. You’re sure of it. 

In the month since you moved into the apartment, your only moments alone come when you lock yourself in your bedroom. Otherwise, Jake is near you—sitting next to you, looking at you, talking to you. If your door opens, he follows not five seconds later. If you sit down at the island with your breakfast of bland cereal, he enters the kitchen within two minutes to prepare his own meal; the same meal every morning. Eggs, Canadian bacon, and a protein shake. If you dare to switch the television on, turns out he’s been meaning to watch that show for weeks. You had no idea he was into movie special effects competitions. 

It isn’t irritating, exactly—though, it wouldn’t shock you if others experiencing similar treatment would feel that way. You just can’t figure him out. He’s unfigure-outable. You’re pretty sure that’s a thing. If not, Jake Seresin just brought it into existence. And here you thought you were the mystery. 

“So I was thinking,” he says. 

You close your book without a second thought, having barely read and retained a line in the last fifteen minutes anyway. From the moment he came out of his room and plopped down on the couch—his leg bouncing and eyes trained ahead on nothing—you’ve been waiting for him to snap the tense band of silence between you.

His fingers clasp together, thumbs subtly twiddling when he finally looks over to you. “Maybe you could meet my friends. They’ve asked about you, and you’ve already met Nat so it’s really only the guys.”

That was perhaps one of the last things you imagined he would say. You’ve heard very little of his friends. They’re also pilots. His team. They all have weird nicknames. Half of those nicknames are animals. 

There are other tidbits Jake casually mentioned as well. Coyote is his closest friend. There’s a Rooster who recently found himself a chick. A Bob and a Phoenix—who you learned is Nat—are particularly attached. 

But every bit of that information you figured he was simply spilling to fill moments where you were in the same room but not speaking. Or perhaps it’s some method to draw out feelings of trust so you might participate in his little game of show and tell. In his eyes is always the hope that you’ll share something of your own, but you have yet to find the courage or need to do so. 

“Oh,” you reply, trying to gather the correct words to turn him down. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not really up to meeting a group of people today.”

You hate the way his face falls. Like a puppy denied a treat. But it lasts only a second as another thought brightens the green hue of his irises. 

“What if we went somewhere? You and me.”

“What?”

His body shifts on the couch, more of him now facing you. He’s wearing a shirt today. He’s been wearing shirts around you since you made the request weeks ago, but they’re weak at disguising the body underneath. Thin fabric pulled tight like a second skin. 

“You said no bars,” he continues. “How do you feel about diners?”

—

It’s an odd image—Jake framed in this setting. He’s all lean muscle and neatly styled hair with a clean-shaven jawline surrounded by greasy food and booths so old their plastic seats are cracking. As others watch him—particularly the hostess who cannot for her life keep from glancing his way every thirty seconds—he watches you. Says nothing; just watches until the waitress returns to set a few plates and mugs in front of you both. 

“There you go, kids,” she says. She’s older, and her hair is done up in a style that hasn’t followed the turning of the decades, but you like that it suits her; that she hasn’t paid attention to the change around her, or simply doesn’t care. With her hands on her hips, she says, “Now Jake, if I knew you were bringing a girlfriend I would’ve set aside some of that pie you like.”

Your eyes bug so much they could’ve fallen right onto the table, but Jake chuckles, smiling at you before directing it to the waitress. “Don’t spook her, Mags,” he teases. Then, “This is my new roommate.”

Her lips form an ‘O’ that holds for a few seconds too long before she blinks and tilts her head to the side. “Didn’t work out with the other one, honey?”

“Not so much, no.”

“Well, that’s just fine. I wasn’t a fan.” Mags takes a breath and straightens out her little apron; a costume element you’d rather die than wear, but much like her hair, Mags seems to take pride in it. You can’t fault her for that. You wish you could find a job you enjoy. Or a job at all. She shoots you a grin; nothing like the rehearsed smiles from someone in a customer service job, but a genuine curve of the lips that creates a warm little ball in your chest. “You, on the other hand, look like such a sweetheart. So be good to my Jake here.”

You don’t have the opportunity to disappoint her because she doesn’t wait for a response. Be good to her Jake. Not an ask. A demand. An unspoken ‘or else’ hanging in the air. And though she’s got at least forty years on you, you’re pretty sure she’s spry enough to follow through on her sneaky threats. 

Mags squeezes Jake’s shoulder and departs, leaving you in a confused state of mixed energies. Shock and discomfort radiate off of you like heat waves, meeting the cool calmness emanating from a beaming Jake. 

“Will you tell me more about yourself now?” he asks. 

Shaking off the questionable tone of the older woman, you reconnect yourself to the man in front of you. His words soak in; another unexpected curveball Jake has thrown you within one day. His friends want to meet you, and now your personal details are on his mind. What would come next? Does he want to know the last time you were thoroughly kissed? Your high school GPA? Height and weight? If so, he’s going to be terribly disappointed. 

Steaming, wispy tendrils invade your vision, and you finally register the blueberry hint hitting your nostrils. Jake had whispered the order to Mags with the explanation that he already knew what you wanted. And being the mind-reading wizard you’re convinced he is, on a menu of nearly one hundred items he magically happened to pick something you enjoy. 

You hold yourself back from digging in, instead meeting his eyes as you cross your arms over your chest. “You think free pancakes are a good trade for my life story?”

He slowly slides a mug closer to you. “I got you coffee as well.”

When you raise an unenthused brow, Jake sighs. 

“Fine. You’re leaving me no other choice than to guess,” he says. “But if I get it right, will you be honest?”

With a snort, you pick up your fork and take your first bite of the sweet fluffy cake. It’s undeniably delicious. Fucking wizard. “Sure,” you say, and akin to a child, Jake’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree. 

He ignores his own food and drink to once again watch you. Observing. Your eyes to your lips to your neck and back again. When he comes to a conclusion, he leans back in the booth. “You are a fan of the beach and before you die you intend to live in every beach town this country has to offer for at least two months each.”

Your fork pauses halfway to your mouth. “Are you kidding?”

“Well, since it appears that I am wrong, I’m going to say yes I am kidding because I’m very funny like that.” He stares some more, eyes narrowing. “You’re searching for a long-lost family member.”

“No.”

“You are only attracted to Navy men and thought you’d travel to a hub.”

Again, as he likes to do, he leaves you lacking words for a moment. “That better be another one of your ‘I’m very funny like that’ attempts,” you eventually manage to say. “And you know I wasn’t aware this was a Navy town.”

Jake nods and then leans forward in his seat, arms overlapping on the linoleum tabletop. You can sense the sudden shift; a new energy. The glint in his eye doesn't quite go with the steady seriousness of his voice. Like mismatched puzzle pieces. “So you’re not attracted to Navy men?” he asks. 

Your head jerks back to regain the distance he lessened. “Not exclusively.”

“Damn,” he replies, full playful tone back in place. “I wanted to at least get that part right.”

There’s another bright smile from him. A wink. You look to your right to find Mags' watchful gaze; motherly and hopeful.

After another swallow of pancake, you say, “Alright, you’re done for the day.”

“Oh, come on,” he whines. 

When you shake your head, he picks up his fork and begins to poke at the eggs on his plate, and you bask in the silence of his disappointment. Peace and quiet, with the exception of the diners surrounding you. No questions. No attempted agonizing small talk. You have a moment to breathe. 

It’s not until you’re halfway through your food and the coffee is nearly drained that Jake lifts his head. 

“I’m going to figure you out,” he says with an unwelcome note of determination. 

Your eyes snap up. 

The feeling behind his statement is hard to nail down. You would’ve said delving into your history was something fun for him to do. Something to pass the time with the new person in his home. But now it comes off more like a need. A little prick in his side that he can’t shake. 

You so badly want to be wrong in your interpretation. You want him to give up; to surrender to your stubbornness. Ideally, sooner rather than later. 

“You really don’t have to,” you say.

Jake doesn’t miss a beat. Nothing about him—not his breath, not his stare—stutters at your response. Instead, he returns with, “But I want to.”

---

A/N: Sorry it's a little short. Next chapter will be labeled 3.5 and will be from Jake's POV.

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath @coldmuffinbanditshoe

[gi4hao]

☆ ANNIVERSARY DATES WITH SEVENTEEN

hyung line version! (scoups -> woozi)

had a really sunny weekend so please enjoy these sunshine-fueled scenarios!

— SEUNGCHEOL

turns out your anniversary took place during a vacation together, a week-long holiday near the beach. on the d-day, he refuses to say anything about his plans, no matter how many times you ask, to the point where you end up blindfolded as he leads you to his surprise. when you take the blindfold off, the only thing you can see is a white boat awaiting on the shore. at first you’re scared he might have actually bought the boat, but he ‘only’ rented it for a private dinner. the sun has just started to set and you’re glad to have picked one of your cutest outfits because you just know he’s going to be taking as many pictures of you as he can. you might be admiring the sunset, but he'll be admiring you the whole time.

— JEONGHAN

he truly racked his brain to find the per-fect date idea. on the day, he keeps you guessing with more than vague hints (like “we talked about doing that one day” as if you didn’t talk about literally doing everything together). but he’s confident in his surprise and rightfully so: at first you think it’s just a regular picnic, which would have been fine on its own, but as more people start to gather around you, you realize that a lantern festival is actually taking place here tonight. together, you scribble your wishes and dreams for the future on your lantern. and you love how he’s not even trying to hide what he’s writing: one thing about jeonghan, he’ll never try to conceal anything about his feelings for you.

— JOSHUA

this one has a proud smirk plastered on his face the entire morning, hinting at a surprise. you get in his car around 9am and drive for about twenty minutes until he stops in front of a fancy looking building. “you know how we always talk about moving to a bigger apartment yet never actually visit anything? well i figured today would be the day…”, he tells you excitedly. and it’s only when the realtor meets you on the street that you realize joshua has actually booked a visit. more than one, in fact: throughout the day, you visit four apartments, walking from one to the other hand in hand, already fantasizing about what life is going to look like for the two of you.

— JUN

both having a busy schedule, you recently told jun you missed having a proper dinner together and it’s given him the best idea for your anniversary: a nice dinner together without the practical difficulties of going to a fancy restaurant. when you come back home that evening, you find your place tastefully decorated with various candles, flowers and fairy lights. as for jun, he’s done his hair the way you like it best, dressed in an outfit you love, wearing the same perfume from when you first started dating. with a sheepish smile, he guides you to the balcony where the table is set, revealing the stunning city view from your apartment.

— SOONYOUNG

his plan for today is to make you feel as loved as ever, and that requires day-long dedication, starting with mandatory prince.ss treatment all morning. around 11, he tells you it’s “time to go” although you still have no idea what he’s talking about. but a 45 minutes drive later, you can make out the blueish color of the sea in the horizon. with him by your side, you know it won’t be just any beach day: picnic on the sand, a long walk along the shore spent saying “look, it’s us!” when you see two relatively close rocks, and most of all, soaking up the sun together in the water, all while being that clingy couple who cannot stop swooning over each other.

— WONWOO

this morning, wonwoo wakes up particularly early to cook breakfast for the both of you. you’re already awake by the time he’s done, but he looks so adorable trying to balance the tray while opening the door with his foot that you pretend like you’re still asleep. later, he surprises you with a gift which looks… a bit odd. you didn’t really expect a QR code. but you scan it anyways, and then everything starts to make sense: the QR code brings you to a website, a shelter website more specifically. “are we…”, you start, a huge smile already on your lips. “going on a shelter date to get a cat? absolutely”, he replies, glad you’re enjoying his surprise as much as he hoped.

— JIHOON

to him, this is the perfect day to show how much your relationship means to him, because he fears you might not know it well enough (you do). so he’s got a little something prepared… the first part of his plan is to fake an apology: “i’m really sorry, i completely forgot…”. second part is to say he’ll take you to movies another day, which you accept, still half-upset. and finally, last part is to welcome you home on the d-day, takeout ready on the table but most importantly, with a homemade outdoor cinema right in your backyard. thick mattresses, fluffy pillows and a large white screen facing a brand-new projector, he went all out to make sure you feel as cherished as he always does.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

HI saw your requests were open for sagau so i thought i'd drop on by

can i request creator reader with favourites, specifically alhaitham and diluc but you can add more if you'd like! just generally how the character would react to being favourited by the creator and how the creator treats them pls <33

have a good day and no stress if you don't like the idea, just a lil brain rot i've been having recently

lei <3

Hello, Lei Anon! I'll gladly do this request! It's been a while since I've done something like this too lol—I'm doing great as of right now. I hope you're having a good day as well :) I hope you like what I got!

Alhaitham & Diluc Getting Favoritism Privileges ✨

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Diluc

When he heard rumors that he was being favored by the Almighty Creator, he denied it at first. It was just the drunkards in his tavern just talking and rambling. There wasn't anything that could be used as solid proof to back up their drunk claims.

If it wasn't for the fact that you strolled on in, saying, "Diluc, my favorite Main!" he probably would never have believed it.

With your attention consistently on him, Diluc is often praised for gaining Mondstadt the true blessing of the Almighty Creator. Diluc is constantly being given gifts that you find, bought, or crafted—be it a chair made of the finest wood, a fresh bouquet of freshly picked asters and cecilias, or a fresh pair set of clothes with the best quality of silk! Or, whenever you think your gifts aren't enough—mora.

"Your Grace...there is no need for any of this." Diluc doesn't know what to do with the amount of gifts you're giving him constantly. He doesn't even know where to place them in your manor. Adelinde and the other maids are even struggling to maintain the overflow of gifts you've been gifting.

And you, of course, don't think this is enough. "Diluc needs more love" is your motto now!

Alhaitham

Alhaitham's heard of the rumors about being favored by the Almighty Creator. Even Kaveh brought it up, drunk or not, about how Alhaitham was like the golden child of the Their Divine Grace.

Like the usual guy he is, he shrugs it off. Rumors cannot be taken as truth, but that does get him intrigued. Thus, he starts researching to see if these rumors were true, and if not, what parts of the rumor were true.

Turns out, the answer was rather easy to find—you just straight up walked up to him and handed a few books you thought he might find interesting for him. And by a few, I mean at least 50 books.

"Thank you, Your Grace. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be able to bring any of this home—" "I can help you bring it home!" "—nor do I have the space for it." "I can buy you a new shelf! No, actually, I'll build you your own private library!" "Oh? You're even more intriguing than I thought, Your Grace. Allow me to ask for your help and aid to carry these books home."

You would often buy him books, or give him more mora, or hell, even gift him any furniture or equipment he needed! Anything he needed, you would find a way to supply it to him, or just gift it to him in general, because why not!

Safe to say that Alhaitham took quiet amusement to Kaveh's flabbergasted expression and shock. And, ever the perfectionist he was, how Kaveh was fumbling on shelving the books in the new (big) library you built beside his house that only he (and Kaveh) could access.

Safe to say he is grateful for your favoritism.

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: Dang, is my mailbox exploding with brainrots from people LOL. I certainly wasn't expecting this! I do hope these posts are up to your liking :)

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[cuttlekiss-mlp]

thought i might attempt to start off strong with my mlp infection au

this is still a pretty big WIP, especially with all of the characters. i've been very thorough with how i want things to go, so i've been taking my time with it.

stuck with a sketchier style bc it fit the vibe of what i wanted so well

MY LITTLE CATASTROPHE : SPIKE AND TWI

!!!TW: DESCRIPTIONS OF GORE!!! "Dear Princess Celestia, I have made a grave mistake, and my judgement is no longer sound. I have ruined everything. I am in search of a cure for what I have created. It cannot be destroyed. Normal magic cannot undo what I have done. He is gone, but maybe I can save the others. I am sorry that this letter has not been sent to you in a timely fashion. He is gone. I had to send this letter via pony mail. Please forgive me for all I have done. Friendship is not strong enough to save us. My friends have abandoned me. They know what I have done. Your faithful student, your failure, Twilight Sparkle."

Between all of the commotion of Sombra's defeat and Twilight's ascension as an alicorn, no one was quick to notice a very important missing person. As soon as Twilight realized her favorite baby dragon was not there to greet her and celebrate, she felt sick to her stomach. Where was he? Spike was found by Cadence. He was delivered to Twilight wrapped in her large pink wings, wounded beyond what could be saved. He was already dead when he was found. Her baby dragon was gone.

No amount of friendship or comfort could console the new princess. She laid with her body curled around Spike, and her cries filled the courtyard for hours. It took two days for her to move from that spot and head home towards Ponyville, where Spike would be buried in front of her home. But she could not bare the thought. Spike could not be gone, not forever.

When she returned home, she holed up in her tree house. The doors locked, the curtains covered the windows, and there was nothing but silence. Twilight worked tirelessly for hours, using magic to preserve her baby dragon's body long enough to find a spell that would erase what happened. Spike would not be dead for much longer. The power of friendship and love would bring him back to life. It had to.

She explained to her friends that if they used the Elements of Harmony, theoretically, he could be revived. They had their reservations. No one thought it was a good idea...but Rainbow Dash talked them into trying. Twilight was hurting, she needed her friends to be there for her. However, their attempts were in vein. Spike was not revived.

Despite their failed attempts, Twilight remained stubborn and persistent. She could not let this happen. Spike could not be gone. Everyone was starting to worry about her, but no amount of convincing could change her mind. They refused to continue trying. They did not believe in her and that made her very angry.

Returning into hiding, Twilight's determination became concrete. She did not sleep, she barely ate. Dash visited frequently, while the others had resolved that Twilight needed time and space. She was the only reason the princess ate anything at all. Twilight soon caught reference to a spell in one of her books. This spell was in a particular book in Canterlot's library...and that is where she would go. She packed up and she made her way swiftly to Canterlot. Unfortunately, the book was locked away, for it's magic was forbidden and dangerous. But this did not matter to her. Twilight broke into the library, stole the book, and rushed off to Ponyville. She would not allow anything to stand in her way. Spike could not be gone.

The spell required an intense amount of magic. Twilight would need help to cast the spell, to bring Spike back. But, none of the other elements would help her. They insisted she lay Spike to rest. She refused. How could they ever say such a thing? How could they give up on Spike? How could they not believe in her?

Twilight took it upon herself to cast the spell. She took the Elements of Harmony and she wielded them herself. Bright beams of pink light flooded out of her curtains...

!!!TW BEGINS!!!

"Twilight. . ." A soft, exhausted voice called from the explosion that was her living room. Twilight could barely hear it's faintness, but his voice was unmistakable. She blindly stumbled towards the voice, to find Spike. When she found him, she was first overjoyed. Spike was getting up! Spike was alive!! Bright pink and sparkling ooze spilled from his chest as he rose from his bed. "Twilight?" His voice was louder and sounded panicked? "What is happening-" his voice cut off with a sickening gurgle. Pink bursted from his mouth, and he coughed and wheezed, trying desperately to regain his breath. His eyes were bleeding, or were they rotting? Twilight couldn't tell. She rushed to his side and she held him. Spike choked and convulsed, pink ooze spilling all over his bed and onto the floor and onto her. And then...he stopped. Unsure of what happened, of what to do, Twilight stared in disbelief, in heartbreak. Had she revived him only to suffer yet another painful death? Tears welled in her eyes and she cried out with unbearable pain.

Between her cries and uncontrollable sobbing, she didn't hear Dash break through one of her windows. She held Spike and cried and cried. The house was a mess and Twilight was a mess and covered in pink ooze and Spike was a mess and pink ooze was still coming out of him. Despite her best efforts, Twilight would not let go of Spike. She snapped at Dash to leave her alone, and that is what Dash did. She didn't want to, but what was there to do?

Twilight fell asleep in the midst of her crying, holding her baby dragon close and covering him with her wings.

She woke to a gurgling growl and a terrifying creature standing above her, with pink, sparkling drool dripping from it's mouth. It's eyes were dark and lifeless but little pink glowing orbs betrayed it's gaze. It stared and growled and breathed raspy, shallow breaths. Twilight pushed it away in fear, scrambling up from Spike's bed. That is when she realized what the creature was. It was Spike...but it wasn't truly. He twitched and groaned and dripped pink ooze.

Before she knew it, a knock came at her door. Spike's head snapped towards the sound.

The door opened.

Spike lunged.

Screams and Spike's growls erupted.

What had she done?