#don’t mind me just thinking out loud about season 2

[therebelcaptain]

i wonder if they’re going to show us what happened on jenoport next season. it’s something that’s only mentioned in passing in the rogue one novelisation, but that recent interview tony did where he talks about what time does to people—“people grow up, and people get tired, and people betray each other, and people change their minds, and people get weak, and people get crazy”—gives me the impression that we’ll definitely see cassian do some truly questionable shit for the rebellion. i mean, in the novelisation it is mentioned that cassian has done things that not even draven is aware of, so it could really be any number of things on any literally any given planet in the galaxy. however given the show has already retconned events from cassian’s past, maybe they’ll just replace it with something else since it’s not even clear what actually happened there except the aftermath in which k2 finds cassian staring at his blaster with tears on his face. since tony has said he’s read fanfics, i’m hoping that he’s also read the novelisation—surely he’s read it, surely—because i really think jenoport + the aftermath would make for an interesting episode or two… as painful as it would be to watch cassian end up on the brink where k2 finds him.

[chastiefoul]

stood up.

characters: ayato & alhaitham

summary:

Your boyfriend promised a long overdue date on the winter season—albeit how busy he was.

But as you waited and waited for him on the agreed spot, why does it look like he’s not coming?

tags: a lil angsty, comfort would be on part 2

Alhaitham

You were giddy as you woke up, immediately getting ready for the long awaited date you both have today. Amidst the research he’s been busy working with at the time, he finally managed to take a brief break and told you he missed you wanted to spend time with you which you couldn’t possibly refuse since you missed him just as much.

It was heavily snowing outside—you took a mental note as you pick a warm outfit for today. You were very excited about the date that you had arrived fifteen minutes early, silently hoping maybe your boyfriend would come a little early too since it’s been a while that you both spend a quality time.

☘

“I need coffee,” Alhaitham groaned as he went out from his room, completely exhausted and sleep-deprived. Kaveh who coincidentally was in the dining room just stared at him as if saying ‘then pour it yourself tf?’. Alhaitham made a cup for himself and took a sip. “It’s noon, and you’re just waking up?” the blond said disapprovingly while the grey-haired man only sighed. “It can’t be helped that I needed to sleep late every day for the past week. Also mind your own business, don’t you have that presentation you’ve deemed all week as important today?” He asked, annoyed. “Huh? That was yesterday.” Kaveh said, confused. Alhaitham widened his eyes. “What?” Panic rises inside Alhaitham’s chest as he asked.

“What date is it today?” His stomach dropped, refusing to believe that he had mixed up such an important date only because he was dwelled to deep on his research, even though he promised to meet you. He looked at the clock, 12 p.m, you both agreed to meet at 9 a.m.

 “Seventeenth.” Kaveh confirmed, quickly snapping Alhaitham’s useless idle thought.

The scribe cursed out loud then went to grab the first coat he saw and swiftly go out.

Please still be there, please still be there.

He ran full speed at the agreed spot. He so wanted you to still be there but perhaps it would be too cruel at your side since you’d be standing still at the same spot waiting in the cold for three whole hours.

Then he saw you there, standing as you had your hands deep on your pocket, your nose red from the cold.

“(y/n)!” Alhaitham called out, but you didn’t budge at the noise. He approached you, overwhelmed with guilt. “I’m sor-“

“I told you before that we didn’t have to meet if you’re busy, I told you I could wait.” You said, uncharacteristically slow that it was unnerving. “But I didn’t mean it like this,” you whispered, finally losing it. Alhaitham’s heart broke at the tone, but he knew he didn’t have the right. “Waiting here for three whole hours that people from shop nearby talked to me and said I should warm myself up for a moment and I stupidly refuse, scared that you’d come while I was gone and you’d think I forgot about today..” you paused.

“I looked like a fool—no, I was an utter fool.”

“Please. I can explain-“

“Gosh what an interesting way to apologize,” your eyes hot with tears that were threatening to spill. “Seeing you now, clearly just waking up with no effort whatsoever to get yourself ready.. just how pathetic do you want me to feel, Alhaitham?” you sniffled, feeling uncomfortable and heartbroken. The fact that you were looking forward to today for days and he did not even bother to remember. That fact cuts deep.

The man’s heart ached more by the sudden call of his full name, not the usual endearing nickname of ‘haitham’.

You walked away, wiping your tears. Alhaitham who witness your back getting smaller as you take a step after another could only stand still, quietly searching for the words he could find to first and foremost apologize, then to find a way to make it all up to you.

Ayato

It was definitely not easy, being by Ayato’s side, but you made it work—you always do. And Ayato couldn’t hope for more of an understanding partner—and he didn’t let you forget that, but this made you reluctant to voice your worries, scared that he would picture you as this selfish person. But if you were given a wish, perhaps you’d want to be able to spend a little more time with your boyfriend. Just a little.

☘

When there’s patience, there’s too, a limit.

You’re currently waiting for Ayato at the meeting spot you both agreed on the day before. You wouldn’t mind a ten or fifteen minutes tardiness, anyone could’ve make such mistake, but feeling how stiff your fingers were and seeing the sun position, it’s safe to say you’ve been waiting for more than four hours. There are strangers who passed by earlier, and when the same people witnessed you still glued in the same spot they saw you, you couldn’t help but look down.

A quiet but incisive sense of shame overwhelmed you, that you had such faith in this man that you were willing to wait even hours on such weather, not even knowing that if Ayato had felt the same anticipation—clearly not, since him or even his retainer that usually gave you news about his well-being was nowhere in sight. You couldn’t help but laugh self-deprecatingly at your foolishness as you finally decided to give up and go home, not even thinking about the reason why he had forgotten about the date. The bottom line was that he stood you up, whether it was unintentional at the end of the day, you were hurt. And it was finally time to tell him that he would not get away with it.

☘

The next day, your body had to pay up the price of waiting on such a snowy weather that you caught a fever. It wasn’t worth it in the slightest but at least this way you don’t have to face him for a while, since you don’t really have anything nice to say if forced to see his face.

That thought was short-lived however, seeing that Ayato had decided to come, on a day where you both didn’t agree to meet up on. You were laying down, even with the thick layers of clothing you still felt somewhat cold.

“You didn’t come this morning as you usually do, so I got worried,” he explained the sudden visit. Your head hurt, but truly it was incomparable to the ache you’re experiencing on your chest. Ayato seemed to had completely forgotten the fact that he was supposed to meet you yesterday. “What were you doing that you’ve become this ill, love?” There was nothing but pure concern in his voice but this made you more spiteful, more infuriated.

“I was waiting for someone for hours out in the cold yesterday.” You said, still burying yourself in the blanket, not bothering to make eye contact with the man. At this he was thinking back that perhaps you had tell him about this engagement, but his expression quickly drop, as he remembered. You wanted to laugh at it since you’ve never seen such face on him, but that was a luxury you had to postpone until a later date where you had felt a little better.

“Sweethe-“ He quickly said but you cut him off. “Don’t call me that. And don’t even think about touching me.” You said sternly, as he swiftly retracted the hand that was about to touch your head.

“(y/n), I apologize but I-“

And you’ve had about enough of his exuses—no matter how important, you don’t even care anymore, you just wanted Ayato out of your sight.

“It’s always something with you, isn’t it? I’m tired, Ayato.” You said meekly, truly exhausted by the way he always had something to say, a ­­way to get out of being berated, reasons that you had to understand even though it was the same as saying that he had put you second—or maybe below that yet again. “I don’t want to understand it anymore, I give up.” You finally said, and only at this point Ayato had realized just how much he had hurt you over the course of you dating him.

“I’m done being your loyal dog that you can treat however you please, Ayato. Leave.”

“(y/n)-“

“I said, leave.” You repeated.

Ayato could only stand up and got out as guilt was eating him away slowly. It wouldn’t be an understatement to say that he had taken advantage of your kindness and took you for granted. The regrets tasted bitter on his tongue. As he went out from your haven there was only one thing running through his mind. How could he possibly fix this?

[juniperskye]

Why are you in my head?

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff - Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Word count: 1364

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You had known all about soulmates, your mom had told you bedtime stories about soulmates and how she and your dad met throughout your entire childhood. They had been hearing one another’s thoughts for quite a while before your dad saved your mom from being run over by a biker as she stepped off the curb. She’d tell you how when their eyes met she could hear him thinking about how beautiful her eyes were and he heard her thinking about how handsome he was. You have hoped and dreamed of meeting your soulmate since you were four years old.

You had a soulmate, that much you knew. You had been hearing his thoughts for the last few years, they were few and far between which frustrated you. Your mom had explained it just meant he wasn’t close by, which sucked. You were hoping that the distance would decrease, given your family’s plans to move.

Hawkins, Indiana wasn’t exactly a town that people were flocking to…but here you were. Your mom had been offered a job at their hospital there as the supervising nurse and your parents had decided it was too good an offer to pass up. Your dad had contacted the local police department to see if they had any openings, to which they asked for a letter of recommendation and pretty much offered him the job.

Things were working out well for your parents. You hadn’t really been sure about the move. Your soulmate’s thoughts had been pretty quiet the last few days but, a part of you knew it was because your anxiety of this move was clearly drowning out his thoughts.

The car finally came to a stop, and you glance up for the first time since you’d gotten in the car that morning, too focused on the music playing from your Walkman and rereading The Hobbit, again. You looked up to see a modest home in a cookie cutter neighborhood, you were grateful for your parents and their ability to provide you with the things you need, but some days you wished your family wasn’t so…average.

“Sweetie, why don’t you head in and pick your room?” Your mom suggested.

“Really? I get to choose?” You asked.

“You have your pick, other than the master bedroom. You and I will organize the remaining rooms.” Your mom explained.

Damnit, if I could just get the chords right.

You quickly jogged up to the door, letting yourself in. You made your way upstairs first, checking out the two small bedrooms up there that were situated opposite the master bedroom, separated by a full bathroom. While both rooms were nice, they didn’t give you nearly enough room to “express your creative freedom” as your mom had encouraged. On the main level there was a kitchen, dining room, sitting room, powder room, and living room. There had been a door leading under the stairs, you were pleased to see it led down into a fully finished basement that had a full bathroom.

“MOMMMMM! I chose my room!” You called as you ran up the stairs.

There we go.

*Eddie’s POV*

Hell yeah! This is fucking perfect!

The thoughts had rung out like an alarm in his head. Her thoughts had never been this loud and clear. What had changed?

She better let me make the basement my room!

Had she finally moved? He had been hearing all her nervous thoughts about packing up and moving across the country. She must be closer now if her thoughts were coming in like this now.

YES! YES! YES! Now…how to decorate?

He smiled to himself. She seems sweet based off what he knows. He had asked Wayne about soulmates when he was growing up. He’d asked questions like “why can’t I just think of my address, so she could find me?” and Wayne had explained that it didn’t work like that. Thoughts were passed back and forth at moments it was needed – in times of excitement, or when we needed comfort, or to vent. There was some sort of neurological algorithm as to what thoughts were sent when.

*End Eddie’s POV*

You had started unpacking pretty much the second your parents agreed to let you make the basement your room. Your dad had even agreed to take you to the hardware store to pick up paint this weekend.

“You’ll start at the high school on Monday. The principal confirmed that he received your transcripts and all your credit hours transferred, so you’re right on track.” Your dad explained.

“Oh, awesome! Did he happen to send my schedule or anything so I could familiarize myself with it beforehand?” You asked.

Oh fuck…fuck, fuck, fuck! I am so late. O’Donnell is gonna kill me!

Your hand flew to your head, the volume of his thoughts brought forth a pounding in your head. They had never been this loud before.

“Bug? You okay?” Your dad looked concerned.

“Yeah, I’m okay! Just a headache. Too many thoughts in there I guess.” You chuckled lowly.

“Honey, was it his thought?” Your mom questioned.

You hadn’t told your parents much about your soulmate, only that you had been able to hear him and that he was, in fact, a him.  They had also been aware that you hadn’t been able to hear him lately – that was when your mom explained that your thought can sometimes drown out theirs.

“Yeah, it was and uh, I don’t know, I guess it was kinda loud.” You shrugged.

“How loud?” Your mom asked.

“I don’t know, loud enough to give me a headache. It was like he was in the room with me.” You looked at your parents, a knowing grin making its way onto each of their faces. “What?”

“Nothing bug. Let’s go see if your principle sent that schedule over.” Your dad wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side.

Monday morning had come way too soon, though you’d had an incredibly productive weekend. Your room was painted and decorated, you’d finished rereading The Hobbit and had begun rereading Pet Cemetery, you’d also memorized your class schedule.

Your dad dropped you off at school, he also told you he was planning to go and check out a car for you after his shift – that had left you pretty excited.

Finally! My own car!

The day was dragging on pretty slowly…truthfully you were ready for lunch.

Then Vecna will make a surprise return.

What the hell?

This campaign is going to be epic!

His thoughts had come and gone like this since you’d arrived in Hawkins. Just back and forth with random tidbits that left you more confused than anything.

The bell ringing had been your saving grace. It was finally time for lunch, and now you were feeling anxious again…where were you meant to sit?

You looked around and before you could take a step, a voice stopped you dead in your tracks.

Here we fucking go.

“We're the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game. But as long as you're into band or science ...or parties or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets...”

God he’s hot.

“It's forced conforming. That's what's...killing the kids!”

Assholes.

Kids were either laughing at his outburst or calling him horrible names, but you just stood there. Could this really be him? This super-hot guy who just caused an entire scene in the cafeteria.

“Me, I am army-crawling my way toward a D in Ms. O'Donnell's. If I don't blow her final, I'm gonna walk that stage next month, I'm gonna look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, I'm gonna flip him the bird, I'm gonna snatch that diploma. I'm gonna run like hell outta here…This year is different. This year is my year.”

He took a step back and bumped right into you, but before you could fall to the ground, he grabbed your arm and pulled you up and against his chest.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

You both let out a quiet chuckle.

All at once, colors were brighter, smells were sweeter, touches were softer. Everything came together in that moment; you couldn’t believe it. Here he was.

[mikanotes]

live a little!

hyunsu ? x gn!reader

genre: ‘idont knowww he likes you’ that’s the genre

warnings: mentions of death, blood and injuries, cursing, monster hyunsu jumpscare, attempting to work with the “monster hyunsu does what hyunsu desires” thing except it takes place in season one and i’m trying to make it as fitting to canon as possible, this is a badly written mess Sorry!

synopsis: The day Hyunsu’s mind acknowledges his feelings for you, but he himself doesn’t quite realize.

author’s note: if you’re desperate for a part 2 to up close & personal you can pretend this is a prequel because it kind of fits? anyways i’ll write for Hyunsu hyunsu eventually too i miss him it’s been a bit

“You’re no fun.” Hyunsu laughs.

His voice is heavy and he’s struggling to catch his breath, practically stumbling over his words. In fact, he’s practically stumbling over his own feet due to how impatient and quick his movements are. His face, usually so stoic and soft, is now covered in blood and adorned with a maniacal grin, paired with those hiccupy laughs of his. He looks positively fucking insane.

“Yes, well. If that means valuing staying alive, I’ll be no fun.” you say, fingers holding the hood of Hyunsu’s jacket tightly. He tilts his head in your direction, looking at you with those black, glassy eyes. Your gaze hardens, “What?”

He scoffs. “Live a little.” he says, tone light. He brushes off your hand and takes a step into your personal space. His voice drops to a whisper, one that sounds almost mocking for a short time. “You’re so hellbent on surviving, but are you even living?”

You’re forced to back into the railing behind you and hold onto it, eyes never leaving Hyunsu’s.

“Come on. You’re not gonna tell me I’m wrong.” he scoffs softly, leaning down, “Right?”

“Get it together, Cha Hyunsu.” you say, glaring a little. The latter grins.

“What? You think I’m out of my mind? Why would I need to get it together?”

“If anyone else had been here to see you, you would’ve been killed already. Look at yourself.”

You hear the railing behind you creak, and you feel Hyunsu’s hand on your back saving you from a fate similar to the one he’d faced towards the beginning of this apocalypse before you feel the metal moving away from you. The sound of it breaking and falling down from the flight of stairs is loud and makes you flinch.

He pulls you away from the edge and lets go of you.

“You’re welcome.” he says, tone flat, “I know what I look like. But they couldn’t kill me if they tried. Now let’s go kill some monsters already.”

He seriously doesn’t get why you shoot him this annoyed look of yours. (He just saved you! Hello?!) After all, what’s so wrong about this? Killing monsters? That’s literally the only thing everyone in this fucking building keeps him alive for, right? It’s always Hyunsu do this, do that, save us, don’t kill us, and now, get it together. That’s why everyone should die.

Then again, he knows you think differently from the others. You’re telling him to snap out of it so he won’t be cast out by the others even more. That’s why you came with him. Why you never abandoned him.

Because you… care. Surprisingly.

Ah, now I get it, Hyunsu. he thinks. You care about this person much more than you realize.

He sighs and tilts his head. “Come on.” he sighs, tone somewhere between pleading and annoyed.

“We have stuff to retrieve. For everyone else.” you say, gaze averting to the place you were just standing at. “Let’s not take unnecessary risks.”

Hyunsu drums his fingers against the spear in his hand, eyes narrowing a little. “Do you really think I care about anyone in this place enough to get their shit?” he asks calmly, “You’re mistaken.”

“He does.” you sigh, “Whether it’s a good thing or not, he does.“

“And that’s really not my problem.” It is.

He hears the growl of a monster in a corridor nearby and turns towards the direction of the sound. Killing everyone. That’s what he wants. That’s what he cares about. He swings the door open and steps in, before stopping.

He leans back just enough to look at you from the side of the door. “Are you sure you won’t come?” he asks, a small smile pulling at his lips.

You seem to still be frightened by what would’ve happened if he hadn’t caught you. Frightened by the idea of falling from so high. He heaves a deep sigh and steps back out, just enough to grab your arm and pull you closer.

“You’re alive, aren’t you?” he says, “Stop thinking about almost falling to your death.”

When you’re closer to him like this, Hyunsu feels confused. Well, this is clearly a crush, he thinks. But he doesn’t think that is something that he should be able to feel. It’s like an instinct to reach out to protect you. A reflex. Maybe it’s his feelings? He’s not sure.

“It’s hard to think about anything else.”

“Then focus on me.” he says. The word ‘me’ comes out a bit harsher than the rest, a bit like it’s echoing. He lets go of your arm. “And all will be well. That’s crazy practical, right?” he scoffs.

“I don’t get you.” you say, crossing your arms. “Are you trying to help me?”

He takes a deep breath and closes the door a little to look at you properly, leaning against the edge of it. “To be honest with you, I mostly just care about myself.” he answers easily, “But…”

You. You who looks at this part of him and cares, still. Who doesn’t even seem scared. Who just wants to make sure he’s okay, in spite of everything.

Maybe you deserve to be excluded from the ‘everyone’ that he wishes would just die.

He thinks he can find a middle ground. A way to reach some sort of agreement with Hyunsu. You may just be the key to getting him to accept his own self. He shrugs. “Who knows.”

He lets the weaker half of him take control again. After all, each time a danger seemed to get too close to you, the instinct to help you and get you away before it could reach you was his. So as the greater part of him, he would do everything he can to help him out. And right now, that would be letting him deal with all this and maybe try to bargain for this whole control thing.

“Hyunsu.” you say, eyes wide. His own eyes have finally returned to their usual state. He blinks, taking a few seconds to register what’s going on, then his eyes widen as well.

“Are you okay?!”

“Uh…” he trails off, looking towards the edge of the stairs, where there should have been a railing. Then he looks at your relieved expression, then at the half-opened door. “Yeah, yeah, I’m…”

He thinks for a moment then slowly, carefully closes the door. “I’m fine. Are you? Maybe I should go alone.” he says.

“No, it’s fine. I’m alright. Let’s go together.”

(I could help you keep them safe.)

His hand tightens around his spear as he tries to ignore how loud his mind is.

No. Shut up.

“… Okay. Let’s go, then.”

He has a lot to do. There’s a list of things the other residents asked him to get for them. You didn’t have to go with him, but you did, which means he has to make sure you both survive this whole thing. He has a lot of things to focus on, and none of them include the monster in his head trying to get him to listen.

Maybe one day, he’d accept it.

Who knows?

[frost-queen]

The moment I knew // part 7 (Reader!Bridgerton x Tewkesbury)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly,@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco,@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @cayt0123, @powwowsworld, @yomamacrusty, @mileyy22, @omgsuperstarg, @helen06dreamer, @misscaller06, @l4venderia, @dracoflaco, @loliakeoghan23, @emotionaldamageemotionaldamage, @reallysparklychaos, @ok-boke, @the-fifth-marauder7, @asgards-princess-of-mischief, @cherrysxuya

Summary: The social season goes on continuing with another ball. Yet this ball holds some surprises. Will it make a change for the better? [ part 1 & part 2 & part 3& part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 8 & part 9 ]

Tap

Tap

Tap

Tewkesbury tapped his finger mindlessly against the hard glass. His mind somewhere else, vision unclear. The upmost bored expression on his face. He heard his grandmother tsk loud for him to change his posture. – “Sit up straight boy!” – she called out as the carriage took a turn, riding on a gravely road. When Tewkesbury wouldn’t move she revealed her fan, giving him a hard slap against the hand with it.

“Au!” – Tewkesbury snapped awake, startled by the sudden whip on his fingers. His grandmother hummed loudly with a glance that it was his own fault. He exhaled deep rubbing his poor fingers. He straightened his posture, leaning back against the fabric as the carriage toggled a bit. His grandmother gave him a look for off judgement. Tsking her tongue again.

Tewkesbury tilted his head slightly knowing she just had a comment burning on her tongue. – “It’s the third ball already. When are you going to show any REAL interest in a young woman.” – she emphasized on the matter of real. – “I sure hope you don’t thinking to form an alliance with that wild girl.”

Tewkesbury knew she was referring to Enola. – “She was quite nice to return my child back to me, but good heavens her features aren’t standard. She has a heart too wild. Marrying a girl like that will only give you trouble, I’ll give you that.” – she spoke glancing out of the window. The skies light dimming out. A greyness colouring all that was bright away for the night to take over.

Tewkesbury turned to look out of the window. Watching the street lights being lighted up with their bright fires. Two men standing on a ladder to give the lantern light. A couple walking arm in arm just passing them by. – “What about the season’s diamond? She isn’t the fairest…” – his grandmother brushed her skirt with her gloves.

“Whatever possessed the queen to chose her. No foul words to her majesty.” – she quickly added as if speaking ill of the queen would cause her harm. – “Yet, she would be a good match. Marrying the season’s diamond always hyphen’s up once’s status.”

Tewkesbury sighed deep as a sign of protest. He wasn’t at all interested in the season’s diamond. There was only one calling his heart, yet she no longer wishes to commit herself to him. Perhaps it was partly his fault. He still didn’t know what possessed him that faithful night at the first ball. He had been exciting all day eager to see you again. A year. An entire year he hadn’t seen you. Only making him yearn for your presence more. It was nice to have you around. His feelings still a bit unclear at that moment. In the beginning it was merely out of boredom.

That was how it all started at the opera. The moment he found a willingly victim to laugh with him. To make the dreadful opera bearable. At first he teased a lot. Playing in on the signals you were sending him. A young girl gushing over a boy. Probably the first boy around her age she had met. As girls at that age were, falling hopelessly in love with each boy that flashed them a smile. Then he started to get to know you better. See more sides of you.

It was perhaps then that he had already started to fall for you, yet it wasn’t known to him yet. A bundle of feelings he couldn’t name yet, tumbling in his stomach. Spiralling and tumbling. It became clear to him the moment you returned the acorn to him. That stupid thing he foolishly had given to you in exchange for his ring. His father’s ring he should’ve never parted from.

Holding the acorn in his hand and watching you dance with someone else made him realize what he was losing. How much nights he had wasted with not being near you. It had created a drift between the two of you. – “No foolish sauntering this time. I expect you to be married off by the end of the season. It is my dying wish.” – she had clasped her hands together, looking up to the ceiling. Tewkesbury scoffed silently.

“To have me out of the house.” – he mumbled to himself. – “What was that boy?” – she snapped at him. – “Nothing grandmother.” – he responded quickly avoiding her stern eyes. – “Thought so.” – she flapped out needing to have the last word. Tewkesbury turned to look out of the window again seeing how much the sky had darkened already. The blinding estate of the next ball coming up in sight.

You had followed your siblings inside. Hand on Anthony’s arm. He sighed loud upon entering. You quirked your lips teasingly up. – “Oh how dreadful it is.” – you acted out dramatically with the back of your hand against your forehead. Your little act made Anthony look at you, puzzled. – “Another ball I have to keep my sisters save from. God forbid they find a match and leave from under my wings.” – you added sounding as silly as you could.

Anthony stared in shock at you as Francesca laughed loud. – “It isn’t funny.” – Anthony told you sternly. It made you press your lips together to withhold yourself from laughing at him. – “Oh come on Anthony.” – Benedict pitched in grabbing him by the shoulder. – “I thought Y/n did a great performance of you.” – he chuckled afterwards squeezing his fingers in Anthony’s shoulder. You let go of him arm, standing in front of him to curtsy as if being applauded.

Anthony brushed Benedict’s hand off him with annoyance. – “Poor Anthony being so teased by his younger siblings.” – Colin interfered wanting to have a say in it. Anthony turned to look at Mother. Violet tried her best to hide her smile, yet failed miserably. To Anthony’s annoyance as he stormed off. – “Oh Anthony don’t be so… it was a mere tease.” – Violet called out going after him.

Benedict came to your side, holding his palm up to you. You pressed your palm against him, snickering at your own tease. Arms locked in you followed mother who tried to reach Anthony. Anthony took halt by a set of vases. Half filled with flowers and peacock feathers. Francesca came running up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. – “You are so easily teased.” – she said with a smile. Anthony looked up to the ceiling not wanting to give in, but when you joined her.

Wrapping your arms around him at his other side, he couldn’t withhold himself anymore. Holding both of you for a warmful hug. The moment was ruined when Benedict decided to join in from behind, giving him a good squeeze. Nearly making him fall forwards. He nudged his elbow back at Benedict to get him off his back. Benedict let go of him, winking at you. Benedict stretched out making Anthony roll his eyes at him.

“I thought you had learned manner yet.” – Anthony spoke. Benedict lowered his arms from stretching up. – “Oh brother you must know me.” – he chuckled out giving him a hard slap against his back. A gentleman came over around Colin’s age. He invited him for a game of cards. Colin accepted dragging Benedict with him.

You stood with Francesca and mama, watching the dancers. A girl you had met before once came running over. – “They have peacocks in the garden!” – she called out unable to control her enthusiasm. Francesca and you looked at each other with delight and shock. – “Girls!” – Mama called out the moment the two of you started to run. Wanting to get to the gardens and see a peacock for real. – “Oh I wish it would open it’s feathers.” – Francesca huffed out pressing herself between people to get across.

Holding onto her hand tightly, you were behind her, trying to squeeze through those your sister just went passed. You were near the glass doors that lead up to the stone pedestal with steps downwards into the gardens. Many people wished to gaze upon the peacocks to be found in the garden. Francesca and you came to a brief halt as you locked eyes with a certain girl on your right.

The one who had danced with Tewkesbury. Her expression neutral. She went on going through the glass doors as Francesca followed taking the doors on the left. You had remained still, allowing your hand to slip out of hers as she got swept up in the crowd. Somehow the moment seemed ruined. No longer you contained any excitement for the animals. Moving a bit backwards, you went back further in.

Yet you didn’t wish to return to your mother who was clearly searching for Francesca and you. Neither did you wish to return to your brothers. Not even being allowed in the rooms where they played cards and gambled on the side. It was a secret, a hush-hush but everybody knew about it anyways. You decided to leave the ballroom for what it was. The music fading out when you went into the corridor. Most of the doors were closed. Others were open.

A group of people chattering and laughing loud with drinks in their hands. You passed them all feeling no need of entering a room full of strangers without the presence of your brothers. By the end of the corridor you were intrigued by a door partly opened. Not enough to peer inside, but wide enough to see a warmth glow come from inside of it. You neared the door staring through the creak to have a look inside.

Eyes widening at the sight of Tewkesbury. You gasped loud when he suddenly turned around spotting you. It had startled you, making you bump your shoulder against the door and trying to make a run for it. Tewkesbury hastened himself to the door, opening it more. – “Y/n!” – he called out. It made you stop. – “I mean Miss Y/n.” – he corrected himself. You took a step forwards not sure if you wanted to be around him. A second step was impossible as you felt a force keep you in place by your skirt.

Looking over your shoulder down, you saw Tewkesbury’s grip on your skirt. Your gaze went up to meet his. Full of sadness his eyes were. Perhaps yours were too. – “Please…” – he whispered, a hush almost unheard. Taking a deep breath, your shoulders slouched down. Unspoken you followed him back into the room, not sure why you did. The room was not that grand. Rather small. An armchair and small table positioned in the room.

White curtains with patterns on them. Here and there some trinkets. You went to sit down on the armchair, hands folded in your skirt. Tewkesbury stood up straight looking down at a small table. It contained a perfume bottle and a fan. It felt weird. Awkward to say the least. As if you were strangers again. Tewkesbury cleared his throat picking up the perfume bottle. You turned your head to look around the room.

Tewkesbury leaned forwards trying to sniff the smell. Accidently spraying in his face. He coughed loud, waving a hand in front of his face. Setting the perfume bottle back. – “I saw that girl head outside to see the peacocks.” – you said having the urge to cut through the silence. – “Enola.” – Tewkesbury replied as it made you hum confused.

“Oh…” – hearing him say her name made you turn your head away. It felt strange. Strange how your heart still yearned for him. Even in this moment. You wanted to run over to him, leap in his arms and hear him say how much he wants you. Tewkesbury understood the notion of your reaction, looking down at the table. He picked up the fan to occupy himself. – “Where is your suitor?” – he asked. You hummed confused looking up to him. Tewkesbury looked back at you opening the fan with a smooth movement.

It made you blink startled. – “That boy you danced with.” – Tewkesbury flapped the fan at himself keeping his eyes on you. – “I’m sure he has proposed by now.” – He went on unable to stop himself from yearning for you. For hoping you’d contradict his words. As a response you snorted loud. It made him curl up a smile not fully understanding what was this amusingly. – “I’ve danced with him once. Let’s not get too far ahead.” – you responded with a smile.

Tewkesbury’s smile got brighter feeling the tense atmosphere from before falter. – “Besides he’s not a prince.” – you added with a smile. – “Or a Viscount.” – Tewkesbury whispered out of ears reach. – “Enola seems nice.” – you told him. Tewkesbury flashed the fan in front of him again near his cheek. To you unknown, but to him full of words.

“She’s a terrible dancer.” – he commented making you laugh. – “Laugh all you want, I have the bruised toes to speak for me.” – he added as you started to laugh even harder. Hearing your laugh made him smile widely. In this moment it felt like heaven to him. He drew the fan down his cheek again to you. – “What are you doing?” – you questioned seeing it was the third time he had performed it. – “Fanning.” – he responded with a cheeky smile. – “It is hardly warm here… unless you are doing something else…” – you answered.

“Nothing else.” – he muttered out, looking away. Having a sense of time, you got up. Tewkesbury hasting him to your side. – “My siblings must wonder where I am.” – you spoke hearing your heart thump louder in his presence. – “Of course.” – he answered staring smitten down at you. You wanted to open the door as Tewkesbury was ahead of you. Opening it for you and allowing you to walk out. You went on, looking briefly over your shoulder back to him.

Unable to hide the fact you still much desired him. Your plans of marrying him still present, never buried away. You entered the ballroom once more. You watched a few more dances with mama at your side. Then there was a sudden announcement. Maken everyone hasten outside. The sky full dark now. Starless and cloudless. A blank canvas ready to be painted in with delights.

You neared the already standing crowd. Mama spotted Francesca going over to her. Not far from her you noticed Enola. Getting on the tips of your toes, you couldn’t help but see if Tewkesbury was near her. A part of you hoping he wasn’t. Your brothers were coming outside too, laughing loud. Colin holding a little sack in his hands. Probably the coins he had won with gambling.

They were getting behind some people to wait for what was to come. Setting your heels back down, you felt a presence near your right. Slowly letting your gaze go to your right to see who it was. Your heart leaped, expression softening when he stood beside you. Tewkesbury. Staring right back at you. Half a smile on his lips.

A whistle went off followed by a loud blow. It startled you and Tewkesbury as the night sky busted with colours. First a bright red. Then a bright blue. Tewkesbury and you looked up to the sky as the fireworks exploded. Bright yellow, green and red filled the night sky. Colours popping in the air. People were pointing and reacting startled with laughter.

You were amazed by the colours, watching them with excitement. A gentle nudge against your knuckles made you dim your enthusiasm. Trying to figure out what it was doing to you. Another nudge against the back of your hand. Pressing gently against your hand. A tingle went up your spine as you continued to watch the fireworks.

Slowly turning your palm and stretching your fingers out. Fingers glided over yours as they caught your hand. Another firework popped as the green colours reflected on your faces. Two hands intertwined for no one to see. Standing together in a heaven of bright colours.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists! 

[breadbrioche]

estimated time of arrival

so mun x reader

➳summary: mun is excited to see you after being apart for so long

➳warnings: takes place early season 2, accidental confessions

➳word count: 731

➳a/n: some fluff before whatever happens in this weekend’s episode

“Who’s Y/N?” Jeokbong asked, standing idly in the middle of the shop floor of Unnie’s Noodles while the other counters were rushing around him, carrying various supplies and decorations.

“Another counter on our team.” Motak explains while setting out the table. “They went overseas to help out with dealing with the evil spirits.”

“And they’re finally coming back today!” Mun added happily while entering from the kitchen, bringing in a ladder to hang up banners.

“How are they like? You seem really excited, Mun.” Jeokbong asked, noticing how bright he got at your mention.

“That’s only because he’s had a crush on Y/N since-“ Hana began with a smirk before she was cut off by a stuttering, red faced Mun who urgently pressed a hand on her mouth to silence her.

In his embarrassed state, the boy must have forgotten all about Hana’s aversion to touch as he was instantly thrown to the ground with a loud thud, making him groan painfully.

“Good god Hana! Is this really the time for that?” Ms Chu exclaimed while helping Mun to his feet. Hana rolled her eyes at Ms Chu babying Mun before continuing her previous task.

“Can someone call Y/N and see where they are now? I still haven't gotten started on making the noodles!” Ms Chu fussed. Mun immediately offered himself to do it and excused himself from the room to go to the downstairs gym speedily, ignoring all the snickers and hushed gossiping from the others.

Dialing your number, he held it up to his ear and the call picked up in only a few rings.

“Hello?”

Mun instinctively smiled hearing your voice, even if it was a bit muffled from the phone.

“Hey, it’s me. We were wondering how far away you were now since we last called. Everyone’s really excited to see you again.”

“I am too! You don’t even know how much I missed you all. Anyways, I think I’m about half an hour away now? So not too long”

“Are you kidding? That’s way too long! Tell the driver to hurry up or something” Mun complained playfully. He heard you sigh on the other side of the phone.

“You’ve already waited a year! This should be nothing compared to that. Jeez, you’re so impatient sometimes.”

“Well that’s only because it’s been that long! Why should I wait longer than I have to so I can see you again?”

You laughed at his whining and Mun’s heart fluttered at the sound. He placed a hand on his chest, trying to calm himself down; it’s just you, he told himself. There was no need to get so nervous.

“I’ll be there soon.” You reassured him. “Maybe you could help out Ms Chu or something to help pass the time”

“Fine.” He finally gave in. “But don’t you dare be late!”

“I’ll see what I can do. But don’t blame me if there’s too much traffic!” You warned him jokingly, making Mun chuckle.

“See you soon, okay? I love you.”

The words came out so naturally that Mun hadn’t even registered what he said until a few moments passed and he was met with a shocking silence on your end. Mun gasped in realization and hung up immediately, not knowing what else to do.

He groaned frustratedly as he slapped his face, scolding himself. So Mun you’re an idiot!, he thought regretfully.

Mun had half a mind to call you back and try to explain himself but millions of thoughts ran through his mind in a second; what if you don’t feel the same? What if you find it weird? How was he ever gonna face you again?

Mun was knocked out of his spiralling thoughts when he felt his phone vibrate in his hand. The screen lit up, showing a text notification from you.

<Haha you didn’t even let me say anything>

The boy’s shoulders relax slightly, relieved that you aren’t totally mad at him. As Mun tried to decide how to respond, he saw you send another text. But upon reading it, Mun thought his heart almost exploded.

A stupid grin grew on his face while his already erratic heartbeat quickens even more as Mun rereads the text over and over to make sure it his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.

<But i love you too lets talk when I get home 💕>

[himbocoups]

˗ˋˏ YUCK! ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only (Part Two)

synopsis: how can you remain friends with benefits with someone who turns his plushies around during sex, pouts when you don't kiss him goodbye, and spends his time occupying your mind when all you want is for him to leave you alone?

pairing: lsm x yn (gn afab)

genre: fluff, humor, romance | m, smut

tags: alcohol/food - reader also briefly blacks out, costume party, cursing, domesticity, fwb, sexual innuendos, showering together, yn un-alives a spider, university au | cowgirl, cunnilingus, dirty talk, fingering, handjob, hickies, love making, pet names, pnv, praise

wc: 11.5k

a/n: hi this is part 2/2 of yuck! thank you all so much for waiting. I honestly had so much fun writing this, and I hope you have fun reading. lmk if I missed any tags in part one or two. comments and reblogs are super appreciated!! pls pee after sex so you don't get an uti ♡ -nu

yuck! - part one

lipglossjun's masterlist

He came to your door unannounced, knocking loudly on your front door and causing you to jump in your seat. Three sharp knocks against the door using his middle knuckles and then a few friendly taps because he realizes he's standing in front of your door and not his resident’s door. The sound echoes loudly inside your lonely apartment but isn’t loud enough to alarm your neighbors because he purposely leans his side against the door to diffuse the sound and vibrations. You can’t blame him for his habit - he’s used to knocking on so many doors in one night that the freezer part of his mini fridge is stocked with frozen sponges in plastic baggies so he can ice his swollen knuckles at night. You don’t even have to look through your peeping hole to know it’s him, but it’s weird because you know he should be on-call today. Still, the knocks are enough to scare you into thinking you’re still dorming in the universities.

He tells you he has an employee banquet a few days before the break and was worried that his makeup might smudge on his suit. He also brought your go-to drink order from the tea shop across campus, punching in your specific add-ons and adjustments into the kiosk before even deciding what new seasonal drink he wanted to try. You had no choice but to begrudgingly take your drink from him while you shuffled to the side of your door so he could come into your apartment.

"I thought you already knew how to do this.”

You see him hold up your hand mirror to his neck to look at the small bruise you left on the side of his neck a few nights ago. He sits cross-legged on your apartment living room carpeted floor while you sit on the ottoman next to him.

“Only for an everyday base routine for my face,” he frowns while softly poking his bruise. “But my neck makeup keeps smudging and I don’t know how to stop it from getting on my clothes,” he admits while he lowers the neckline of his t-shirt, thinking about the stains he left on his shirt collars.

You uncap the bottle you’re holding and spray the cool setting spray on his bruise. He fans the wet product with his hand while you dig through his toiletry bag for his color-correcting palette. You dip his tiny makeup brush into the palette and bring the product-coated brush to paint over his bruise.

“If you want me to stop marking you, you can just tell me,” you suggest to him while brushing another thin layer. You tap your pointer finger lightly around the harsh edges, blending the colors into his skin. An intrusive thought tells you to poke your finger deep into his skin, but you decide not to.

He ooo’s at how you’re blending the product, angling the mirror so he can better see how you’re working.  

“But I like them,” he says while you spritz another light layer of setting spray. “They remind me of you,” he softly confesses while you blow on his skin. He finds himself angling the mirror again so that the mirror now focuses on your face.

He giggles at the tingling sensation of your warm breath against the cold product, and he smiles to himself when he sees your concentrated expression through the reflection in the mirror – how you purse your lips and how your eyebrows furrow together. If he weren’t an RA, he would proudly wear his love bites as a badge for everybody around him to see. He wants people to tease him whenever they see the bruise poking out of his hoodie when his hood is down. It’s not to let people know he’s getting it on. That’s just not who he is.

But there is that part of him that wants others to know you’re his. He’s tired of soft launching you on his Instagram. That’s what people do when they want others to know they’re talking to somebody. But you’re just his friend. He’s completely fine with showing you off, but he respects your privacy, knowing how much you hate having your picture taken. It’s also not like his closest friends don’t know about his relationship with you, but if it makes you happy, he’ll take it. He likes what the two of you have. And after all, he doesn't care about the pictures. It’s the person whose plate is almost always pictured across from his, the hand holding the ice cream cone, the second shadow under the street light who he cares for.

The bruises feel sore, but he loves how you automatically coddle him afterward, especially after a heated session. You always have that worried look on your face, your lips pouty and frowny. He remembers the number of ridges between your brows when you ask him how he’s feeling. He always tells you that he feels fine, great even, but you always sigh with a defeated look on your face. You’ll walk to the fridge in nothing but one of his old t-shirts and grab him a cold metal spoon. He doesn’t know if the cold spoon hack works, but he lets you do it anyway. He’ll let you do anything if it means he gets to spend more time with you no matter how prickly you may seem on the outside.

Now, he’s spending more time with you on a lazy Tuesday night. He’s done for the day and doesn’t have any RA duties at night because the university recently handed on-call duties for the campus security to handle. On the other hand, you didn’t have anything scheduled for today and spent the entire day indoors. You’re still in your pajamas – a free shirt from a past school event and old running shorts that you never wore while exercising. There are leftover food delivery containers in your fridge from dinner. You tell him the importance of investing in a tinted sunscreen while pushing up your wired glasses. It’s ironic because he knows you haven’t washed your face today or applied any form of sun protection at all. The closer you lean into him to be sure he understands, the redder his cheeks flush. He hopes his mineral powder is enough to diffuse the blush or at least make it seem like it’s the redness from his acne.

Feeling a little hot, he reaches over to grab his fruit slushie-turned-juice from the coffee table and brings it to his lips. He sucks the concoction through the metal straw, letting the cool liquid settle in his mouth so he can savor it before swallowing. You notice the condensation dripping down his arms before he does, and you wipe it away with the edge of your t-shirt without any thought. Your drink is already long gone, finished within minutes after poking your straw through the flimsy plastic lid, washed and disposed of in your recycling bin. He wonders if the taste of his drink would linger on your tongue if he kisses you. And he wonders how the tangy sourness of his drink would contrast or balance the extra amount of sweetness in your tea.

But you’re done concealing the bruise, already sealed it off with the last layer of setting spray. Satisfied with your job, you plop yourself on the other side of the couch and grab the book you put face-down on the table when DK arrived at your front door. You tuck your legs under you and use the armrest as your elbow support as you resume your novel. DK types the makeup steps into his notes app and quickly cleans up his products, looking for something to do.

DK snakes his head between the open gap between your stomach and your book, putting his head on your chest. You pay him no mind, flipping another page while he thinks of a conversation starter. He relaxes into the feeling of your chest rising and dropping and the steady thumping of your heartbeat pulsing under his ear. He asks you what your novel is about while twiddling with the hem of your shirt, noticing it’s still a bit damp from before.

“Smut,” you nonchalantly answer him. You didn’t know much about the novel, but you borrowed it from your friend who kept raving about it while you visited her the other day. She claimed it was better than sex, but honestly, all you’ve been reading so far are overly detailed descriptions of scenery while the main character stares out of the parked car window.

“But you have me,” he teases you. He lets go of your shirt to poke you on your cheek between each word, “You. Have. Me.”

You swat his hand away from your face and subsequently decide to place your novel on his head to use as a stand. He huffs underneath the book, and you snicker at him, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. You think it’s cute whenever he’s being annoying, throwing tiny tantrums whenever he doesn’t have enough attention. You catch yourself lingering on the thought of what his neediness would be like if the two of you were together.

“I’m too lazy,” you flip another page after letting the thought dissipate. “You’re on your own unless you can find another way to do it.”

He huffs and lifts the novel from his forehead to sit up. He turns to you and untucks your legs from beneath you.

“Continue reading your book. Let me eat you out while you rest,” he tells you while pulling your legs with ease so only your upper back and head is leaning against the couch’s armrest. He rests your legs on each side of him.

“Go ahead, but wouldn’t that be a little boring for you?” you ask him while your eyes are still trained on your novel. Even though you spend a lot of time thinking about him manhandling you, his persona easily makes you forget about just how strong he is.

He grabs a cushion from the middle of the couch and tucks it behind your neck. He asks you if you’re comfortable. You give him a thumbs-up, and he gently pecks your thumb before moving your hand back to your book so you can properly hold your book. His little touches and kisses aren’t new to you, but you think it’d be a shame if his kiss transferred onto your pages instead of keeping it to yourself. You choose to hover your thumb above the pages, choosing to use your hand’s round fleshy thenar to hold the pages.

You lift your hips upwards so he can easily remove your bottoms. He tugs them off you as if he has all the time in the world, folding your shorts and undies and setting them on the coffee table like they’re part of the decoration.

“I don’t think I’d be bored,” he kneels himself in front of you and lowers himself so he’s flat against the couch. He gently lifts your shirt higher so it’s past your belly button and proceeds to hook your legs over his shoulders. “Read to me? Out loud?” he asks you while massaging the outside of your thighs.

You lift your book, looking at him quizzically. However, when you see the tiny fading red mark on his forehead from when you used him as a stand, you can’t help but agree to his request. He lowers his head to your core and quickly taps your thighs twice to tell you to read.

“Now, a black flashy standard motorcycle with matching black chrome wheels pulls into the driveway of the auto shop where your car is currently getting its engine replaced. The steady hum of the engine is enough to have every single mechanic in the vicinity turn their –,” you were doing pretty well at reading until DK, without warning, puts his warm tongue flat against your clit, licking upwards until it reaches your nub. “Ah – h-heads to stare at the bike,” you stumble with the last phrase.

He lets his spit drop at the top of your clit, watching it glide downwards along your ridges before catching it with his tongue like a little game of Plinko. He feels you tense under his tongue, causing him to hum in delight. He mumbles something about you doing good before attaching his tongue to you again.

“One of them whistles when the motorcyclist comes to a full stop in front of the open auto shop garages,” you try to ignore the fact that he’s gently blowing wind to tease you, to hear you stumble across your words. There is no way you are going to cave right when you started reading out loud, so you bite your lip when you feel his soft and open lips close around your labia. But you can’t ignore him no matter how hard you try.

He kisses you deeply, full-mouthed while his large hands lock around your thighs. Painstakingly slowly, he buries his face deeper into your cunt.

“Eungh- O-one of them whistles when the mo- oh,” you moan while your mouth hangs open when he circles the tip of his tongue around your clitoris. You move your novel away to look at DK whose entire face is gone. You can only see his bushy black hair.

He continues to circle his tongue around you while your breathing gets shallower. You feel your arousal building, causing your thighs to close around his head. He looks up at you looking back at him with a lustful expression. He sucks softly on your clitoral hood and pries your thighs open with his hands. He only winks, letting go of your skin through his lips before going back to eating your cunt.

“…motorcyclist can loudly rev his engine,” you manage to finish the paragraph with a little sigh of relief.

“Mmmh. Good job, baby,” he groans, praising you against your cunt.

He kisses the inside of your right thigh while moving your left leg off his right shoulder.

You find yourself frowning just a little bit when you think he’s finished, but truthfully, he’s only moving your leg off the couch so he can finger you while eating you out. He puts his right hand on your stomach and uses his thumb to rub your nub.

“I’ll reward you if you keep reading okay?”

He kisses your stomach and moves your shirt down so you wouldn’t shiver from being cold. If only he knew why you were shivering.

“‘Couldn’t you have driven here?’ you frown at your older brother w- ah- fuck. Fuck,” you jerk in your seat when DK inserts a finger in your cunt. You can feel him smile against you as he drags his tongue against your folds while his finger dips in and out of you knowing exactly how to drag a string of moans from your mouth, to make your legs tremble and shake.

All this, and you’re only half a page into reading out loud.

“…while he reaches between his legs to pass you his extra motorcycle helmet as you approach him,” you read while trying to ignore the fact that you’re gripping your borrowed novel with so much force that you probably bent the matte paperback cover. “He shrugs and passes you the helmet which you – mmm fuck just like that – begrudgingly fit over your head.”

You’re clenched tightly around his two fingers as he curls them in you while sloppily giving you head. You hear exactly how wet you are, how his fingers squelch every time he reinserts them in you, how his coated lips smack against your glistening pussy – devouring you as his life depended on it. You can feel your juices pool around your ass as he uses his left arm to hold you down whenever you lurch upwards. He moans profanities against you, but never at you. When he raises his head to take a break, he makes sure his fingers never stop moving. He always brings you to your high, and you feel so safe with him.

And he tells you you’re sweet. He always does.

Sometimes you’re sweet because he compliments you for doing something for him. He calls you sweet when you’re frowning about somebody criticizing your RBF. You like it when he calls you sweet when he calls you Sweetie. You like it when he says it with flair. You like it when he says it when you show him your project. You like it whenever he says it when you make him take a sip of any of your sugary drinks – the way his face contorts in total disgust, but he still manages to do so with a smile on his face.

He never called you my sweet, but god damn do you wish you could experience what it would feel like for him to call you his. But tonight he describes your flavor as sweet as you like your teas. He can’t stop praising you for how sweet you are, how you’re like dessert on his tongue. And you can’t get him out of your head.

“He leans forward and clicks open the motorcycle’s rear footrests with the back of his boot,” your face scrunches, but you continue. “When he is done, he looks back at you struggling – eungh Kyeom,” you struggle.

He only grips your thigh tighter as he alternates between fingering you and pausing so he can kiss your cunt like he’s kissing you during sex. He flattens his tongue against you and twists it so he can tease your hole. You’re whining and speeding through the last few words of the sentence, desperate to have him in you.

“Whoa. Whoa,” he temporarily detaches himself from you to grab onto your forearm as he raises himself above you. His lips glisten from the wetness, and the color of his flushed face compliment the color of his sore lips. “Slow down baby,” he tells you and kisses your cheek, “Wanna hear your pretty voice, okay? Just read and relax.” He strokes your hair and brushes away the strands covering your eyes, “I’m not going anywhere.”

But you don’t relax. How can you relax when he grips your hips, fingers dipping into your pelvic bone as he shoves his nose against your clitoris, sticking his tongue into your cunt? He bobs his head while he tongue-fucks you, nudging your nub and making your pussy throb even when he briefly comes up for air.

Your vision blurs as he continues to build your high, ignoring you as you continue to call out his name. The words on the page are replaced by stars when you tell him you can’t take it anymore. Heart racing and muscles tightening, you cum while his tongue is in you. And he laps you up as you convulse around him, back arching as you continue to come. He drinks what’s left of you like he’s drinking ice cold water at midnight – you’re insatiable. You moan his name into your book once more, hiccupping as he brings your left leg back on the couch.

“Yn,” he whispers as he removes your book from your face. He puts it on the coffee table without breaking eye contact with you. “What did you call me?”

You don’t hear him as you’re still struggling to catch your breath. Your pussy is still pulsing without pause. Everything is hazy, but you can see him reaching over for something in his cosmetics bag. You close your eyes, still undeniably horny and wanting more.

There is a little bit of shuffling and then the sound of a few light things dropping on the floor. He reaches under you and scoops you up as if you weigh nothing. You briefly remember him telling you about hitting a new PR where he could lift someone a little over his weight. But he brings you to your bed, only switching on your nightstand lamp.

He sits on the side of your bed while he strokes your cheek.

“Yn,” he whispers again while leaning closer to you. “Do you remember what you called me?”

You blink twice at him before slowly realizing. Your lips part in realization, and he only smiles at you.

He opens your nightstand drawer and pulls out a condom and your bottle of lube. Your fingers automatically fly to cover your lips in horror, but he only chuckles at your expression while he positions himself between your legs and leans over you. He coats his wrapped dick in the lube and rubs the remaining gel around your vulva. You whimper at the coldness, and he wipes the remaining bits on his thighs.

He leans over you again and rests his elbows on the sides of your face. He asks you again, gently, if you remember what name you called him.

You nod your head, breath hitching as you stare at him. It’s unfair, you think, to look as pretty as he is under the ugly yellow light your lamp emits. But he looks at you with so much care in the world, and you feel thankful that you’re spending your Tuesday night with him. You thank his lame excuse for intruding on your time for yourself. You thank him for spending time with you, for looking after you, even if he isn’t yours at that moment.

He aligns himself at your entrance while waiting for your answer.

You whisper it almost inaudibly, barely believing yourself as you let the word leave your mouth.

“Say it again,” he instructs you.

“Seokmin.”

You’re not sure if the two of you should have come up with one of those contracts you always read about in books when you first started the relationship. Maybe you should’ve learned from Lara Jean – a binding relationship contract written on notebook paper and signed in pen. There would be a couple of items on the list, a few weird ones, and then a majority of the items being standard ones. Standard item number one? No kissing. Standard item number two? No staying over after sex (sub-line: No cuddling). Standard item number three? No meeting unless it’s for sex. Maybe a weird item would be the option to try pegging. However, the last item on the list? No developing feelings for the other party.

If rules are made to be broken, but contracts signed by people older than eighteen are legally binding, then you would’ve been in jail by now.

His lips are locked against yours, groaning your name as he wraps your legs around his waist. He nibbles along your jaw as he makes love to you, slowly pushing deep inside you so you can feel his balls lay flush against your ass, feeling all of him in you. You call his name through a choked sob, your hands roaming around to find something to grab. Anything.

Your fingers find the back of his head, and you pull on his hair. And he flips like a switch, immediately pounding into you over and over again, praising you and calling you his.

Tonight, the rules have definitely been broken. And you’re starting to realize this isn’t the first offense.

.

“Okay so, I didn’t want to take it off because I wanted to see if my makeup would smudge, but I did it because I knew I was going to get hot.”

“Omg he wanted to keep his shirt on. He’s so quirky!”

“Stoppp,” he laughs while he passes the showerhead to you. “I can’t believe you’re the only person who tried to tell me a joke during sex.”

“It’s because I’m the only person you’ve ever had sex with,” you stick your tongue out at him while you rinse the body wash you previously bought with DK off your body.

“You too,” he retorts while turning around so you can rinse the soap off his body for him.

He grabs your shampoo from your hanging wire basket and plops a dollop into his hand. He tells you to look up while he lathers it in his hand before he brings his hands to massage your scalp. His fingers feel amazing while he massages you, so you close your eyes in the process, hoping to keep the shampoo out of your eyes.

He thinks you look like one of those dogs from the pictures you find online where the owner sticks a metal head massager on their heads. Your eyes are closed in contentment, and there’s a lazy smile on his face that he only gets to see so often. He can’t help himself but sneak a little kiss on your lips while he piles your hair into a mountain so that you look like that one guy from the first Incredibles movie.

You open your eyes to look at him, but you see that he’s purposely looking away, pretending to be interested in something else. You try to follow his eyes, but your eyes land on something dark crawling down the wall above DK’s head.

Being you, you blatantly point out the descending spider, and DK screams, slips, and crashes onto the tiled floor. Your bath products tumble down after him. You sigh, knowing you’ll have to clean up the mess and drive him to school tomorrow instead of sending him off tonight.

.

“Aww you care for me,” Dokyeom coos while you fuss over the ice pack on his ankle.

“I’m just making sure my Sybian isn’t too damaged,” you scoff at him.

You thought you would spend the night with a cozy book in bed while you wait for your face mask to dry. However, you find yourself blow-drying DK’s hair, letting him borrow one of your old t-shirts, and nursing his badly bruised ankle. It’s a wonder how he somehow didn’t end up spraining it after that nasty fall. You could’ve sworn you heard the cartoon swishing sounds while he tried not to slip.

Not to mention, he somehow talked you into cuddling with him in bed through several lame excuses.

Q. What if I fell off the bed?

A. Fuck, then pick yourself up I guess.

Q. What if I sprained my dick?

A. We have toys.

He wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Although, you have to admit it feels very nice to sit in bed with him with his left arm around your waist while the two of you silently scroll through your phones. He leans his head on your shoulder and hugs you from the side. You tilt your phone towards him so he could watch you tap through your friends’ stories. You can tell he’s more needy than usual, probably from climaxing more than once in one night and then undergoing the shower incident following right after – he screamed while you crumpled the spider in a wad of tissue. He’s latching onto you like a parasite, but he does give you good dick so you think it’s more like a symbiotic relationship. The way he’s clinging to you makes you think it is what it feels like to be trapped under one of those large teddy bears you can buy at warehouse retail stores. 

He asks you if you’re going to the party on the weekend after you tap through the story of a mutual friend. You tell him you are.

“Be my date to the party?” he asks you.

You think he forgot you always go to parties with Jun and Chan.

“No thank you,” you politely decline his request, “I don’t do party dates.”

He pushes himself off of you, “Why not?”

“Because all of my past dates always left me for their friends and I would just spend every single party alone,” you grumble thinking about how many times you ended up taking care of drunk people you didn’t know because you ended up being sober the whole time.

“But I wouldn’t leave you.”

“There!” you exclaim while pointing your finger at him, “That’s what they all said to me.”

He frowns and crosses his arms, kind of upset you would think he would ever leave your side.

“Date or not I’m still not going to leave your side,” he grumbles while slinking down so he lays on the bed. He turns his body away from you to sulk.

The ice pack falls off his leg and tumbles to the ground. He continues to lay on the bed, not doing anything to pick it up so he can ice himself.

You know how stubborn he can be, especially when his pride is mixed in the equation. Part of you is proud he is sticking through being moody by refusing to move. However, you know how soft he is. If his future kid got a paper cut, he would probably end up crying harder than his kid. His kid would probably end up consoling him. His ankle must feel like pins and needles are sticking into it without the icepack, and he can’t do anything to distract the pain because his phone is out of his reach.

“Kyeom,” you gently shake his body. “You have to ice your ankle.”

He only shakes you off and brings his legs to his chest.

Usually, you would smack him with a pillow and call him dumb, but you think he’s suffered enough damages for the day. You know if you continue asking him to ice his ankle, he would just ignore you. So, you think either climbing on top of him or tricking him into breaking would be better choices. You choose the latter.

“Sigh,” you say out loud, pretending to talk to yourself. “If DK is sleeping then that means I’ll have nobody to cuddle with while I talk about my slutty costume choices.”

You see him slowly turn his head to look at you in the corner of your eye, but he quickly averts your gaze and turns his head back to its original position. You find yourself smiling at his action. He’s like a literal child. A puppy.

“Aww I thought Kyeom wanted to cuddle all night, but I guess I have to go to sleep because he’s asleep,” you tell him while leaning over him to check on him.

You see he’s pretending to sleep. He squints his eyes shut. His lips are poutier than usual, pressed in a thin line to probably stop himself from speaking.

“Maybe I’ll go sleep on the living room couch by myself so he can be more comfortable by himself,” you slowly move off the bed by trying to cross over his body.  

“Noo,” he wails while sitting up to grab you. He immediately yanks you back down, trapping you in his arms. “How slutty is it, Yn? HOW SLUTTY?”

.

You have your morning lab in a few hours, but you’re standing alone in your dark kitchen with your head stuck in the freezer. The only source of direct light comes from your freezer, and you’re glad you’ve lived in your place long enough to navigate in the dark. The green digital clock digits flash on your oven. It’s getting close to 4:00 am, but you can’t sleep.

The icepack, or more like a water pack at this point, left a giant wet spot on your carpet while it thawed. It now sits in a lumped form in the side door, wedged between a frozen loaf of bread and some microwavable pizza bagels. The coldness of the freezer feels nice on your skin, but it’s not enough to make you feel numb.

You feel hot and stuffy, and your mind has a million thoughts running around at once. You make him tell you why you should be his date to a stupid costume party, and he tells you he likes you. However, his dumbass knocks out immediately after while he’s still holding you tight in his arms. You’re left alone with your thoughts and a pounding heart while you wait for him to finally let go of you when he is asleep.

Truthfully, you want to tear your hair out. It’s not like you couldn’t wake him up to make him tell you whether or not he finished his sentence. However, you think you’ve already tested his patience enough in one day. You would trust his “I like you” more if he told you while he was drunk, but telling you and then immediately knocking out? You really don’t know if it could count as a confession.

So now you whisper scream into a frozen bag of mixed vegetables while you think about everything that happened this night. You think about him showing up at your door. You think about the hickies he leaves between your thighs. You think about the way he kisses you after you moan his name.

“Seokmin,” find yourself whispering his name.

You don’t understand how this name is so different from the others, but your fingers softly touch your lips as if you just whispered something you weren’t supposed to say. 

“Aww I get it. Jane Goodall. That’s so cute.”

“This is NOT a couple’s costume. I am clearly a hiker,” Chan angrily grumbles at the passerby while dumping another scoop of ice into the glass fishbowl on the kitchen island. He takes out his red handkerchief to wipe his hands and places it around his neck when he’s done.

“Why are you annoyed that people think you’re Jane Goodall? She’s one of the greatest scientists of our time. Do you not appreciate our women scientists? Women in STEM?” Jun asks him while he pops another sour gummy worm into his mouth. He licks the sour and sugary coating off his fingers one by one and wipes them dry on his monkey onesie.

You grab the bag of gummies from the table and dump the rest into the bowl. You tap and shake the edge of the bag until all of the remaining sugar falls into the bowl. Jun quickly plucks a worm out of the bowl before Chan turns around with a bottle of blue curacao in one hand and a bottle of coconut rum in the other hand. Chan insists on making fish bowls at parties for the three of you to share because he refuses to drink the jungle juice Jeonghan and Joshua make for parties. No matter how many times the two show Chan how they clean the giant clear plastic storage container they use for the juice, Chan absolutely refuses to drink from it. He argues that it’s a breeding ground for bacteria from people scooping the liquid with their cups, but Jeonghan dumbly replies that the amount of alcohol in the jungle juice should be enough to kill the germs.

By the time you’re done saying hello to some friends, Chan is already done making the bowl. He takes off his sunglasses and hangs it from his blue and grey colored top, looking at his creation with satisfaction. He swirls the bright blue concoction with three straws and tops it off with a paper umbrella toothpick he found in Jeonghan’s kitchen cabinets. Bon appétit.

The bright blue concoction stains your tongue, but it gives you a really nice buzz before you know how its aftereffects will hit you like a giant tsunami later. However, any precautious thought about getting too drunk and waking up with a massive hangover gets thrown out the window when Chan reminds you that the reason why the three of you took a ride-share cab is that you wantedto get fucked up. So the three of you smile and continue drinking.

.

The three of you are about two-thirds into finishing the fish bowl when you see DK and his friends stumble through the front door. DK’s dressed in the same slutty fireman costume he wears – the firefighter suit hanging low on his hips with the shoulder straps dangling, the hose on his shoulder, and the white tank top decorated with streaks of ash. You see Jeonghan greet him with a jello shot in his hand. The firefighter takes it from him and swirls his tongue around the perimeter of the jello, loosening it from the tiny container, and knocks it back swiftly in one go. He passes the container back to Jeonghan with no amount of blue raspberry flavored gelatin remaining on the inside. And all you can do is stare at him with your straw in your mouth while your friends attempt to play Jenga in their buzzed states.

It’s not long before you take your eyes off DK and realize that you finished the rest of the bowl by yourself. You tap in while Jun taps out of the game so he can happily scoop the slimy gummies out of the bowl and into his mouth. The tower looks jagged enough that one knee bumping against the table leg can easily knock the tower over. Shrek places their block on top of the tower with a shaky hand and sighs when the tower doesn’t topple over. A vampire bites their lip as they remove a side piece from the middle. You hold your breath as they slowly wiggle the piece loose, frowning when they successfully take it out of the stack and add it to the tower.

All eyes are on you as you hover your hand next to the piece that you want. You think if you take out that specific piece, you would make the tower a bit more balanced when it comes to how it leans. It also makes it harder for Chan to pull out a piece because he would end up shifting the balance if he pulled a block. Everything is in your favor – from the EDM song shuffling to a club song to your friends watching you silently – there is nothing that shouldn’t rule in your favor.

However, somebody behind you shrieks your name, and the tower topples. A few filled shot glasses are immediately placed in front of you, and everybody’s phone cameras are pointed at you, waiting to record you taking the shots. You sigh before bringing the first shot up to your mouth. You didn’t even get to touch the Jenga piece.

The perpetrator who stands behind you cheers the loudest every time you tip each empty shot glass over your head. He raises your hand in triumph and hugs you from behind your seat. The tsunami that’s been building up in the distance crashes. And by the end of it, you’re good as gone.

.

He tells you that no matter how comfortable his shoulder may feel at that moment, you do need to sit up and drink some water. And DK, for what seems like the nth time, hands you a bottle of water to drink.

He thanks the person who passed him the water bottle and stops for a minute. He points at him while scanning his outfit. “Hiker,” he finally decides on his answer.

“THANK YOU,” Chan yells at him while slapping him repeatedly on the back, unaware of his own strength, making DK flinch a little. Chan drunkenly decides that DK will become the fourth  person to drink from his fishbowl. He drags Jun, who is chatting up Trixie from the Fairly Odd Parents, with him to the kitchen to make a fresh batch.

DK is the type of person to make you forget, but not in a forgetful type of way. He makes you forget about your troubles. He makes you forget about the resident knocking on his door while the two of you hide in bed together. He makes you forget you’re at a house party in a room full of people. At that moment it’s just you leaning on his shoulder with his arm wrapped securely around you. None of you are hiding the fact that there’s something budding between the both of you. It feels nice, liberating even.

“Hi baby. You doing okay?” he asks you after making sure you drank until the waterline hit the top of the plastic label despite him being extremely drunk.

“I like it when you call me baby,” you mumble while falling back onto his shoulder, feeling yourself slowly sober up.

“Yeah?”

“But don’t tell anybody or else I’ll have your head,” you turn your head and glare at him.

“I’m not sure if that was a sexual reference or maybe you’ve been reading too many isekai mangas that Jun sends you,” he chuckles while laying your head on his shoulder. He almost sighs in relief when you don’t blame him for you losing Jenga earlier.

He gives an okay signal to any passerby who asks if you’re doing alright. 

“You weren’t by my side the whole time I was here. You’re a liar. Slutty liar.”

“I’m horrible aren’t I?” he kisses the top of your head.

“The worst.”

You never knew what “a beat” indicates in screenplays. You didn’t get why the screenwriter would want to indicate a pause. Nothing that you experienced in your life ever indicated a pause in the conversation. But now you understand. There are so many things you want to say, things you’re too afraid to say. You have questions for him, but you’re also happy he’s on your side. Maybe a “beat” is a filler. This pause in the conversation, you staring at him – eyes trying not to waver to his lips – it’s a mutual understanding between the two of you, something that makes up for what words cannot say. 

“I need to pee.”

.

Now is definitely not a good time to be confused about whether you need to pee or if you’re simply horny.

Tonight the two of you are sloppy, bodies pressed against each other in the quiet hallway of a house party. Someone occupies the hallway bathroom, and you’re leaning with your back against the wall. DK stands in front of you with his left forearm leaning against the wall in the space next to your right ear. He kisses along your jawline, nipping the base of your neck. The softness of his lips caresses your skin, blending into the waves while you slur your moans. He hushes you by covering his lips over yours. You prefer him closer to you so you reach behind his head to pull him into you. His mouth opens, and your tongue glosses over his. He meets you in the middle, circling his around yours and groaning when you tug on his lower lip with your teeth. Your hand roams across his chest, and he pushes into your thigh, grinding against you. Both of you are too drunk, too lost in each other to care if others are looking.

He pulls his head back and looks at you with a hooded gaze. He can’t believe the sight in front of him and the ache he feels inside of him. He leans his head against the side of your ear, nipping softly at your lobe before talking to you in a low voice, “I want to pin you against the wall with your legs wrapped around my waist while I whisper every single thought I’m having about you into your ear. I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk out of this party without me supporting you. Everybody passing by will see how well you take me while you beg for me to pound into you deeper and harder. Then, you’d have to say goodbye to all of your friends while trying to keep my cum from leaking out of your sore pussy. I want to be able to open your legs and see it seeping out of you while I fuck it into you again in the car.”

Another beat.

This time it’s different. You feel your knees buckle underneath his body, sliding slightly down the wall. You look at his face hovering over yours, practically begging him to kiss you again. Anything. But he doesn’t. The two of you stay silent while you hear cheers from the living room. Then he proceeds to pull away as if nothing happened between you. He has the dopiest grin on his face. He cheeses at you – tiny wrinkles at the edge of his eyes and his pearly whites in full view. You’re still struggling to process the stream of consciousness he spoke into your ear.

“I like your pizza costume,” he giggles while poking your costume, especially the edges of the crust that hang off your shoulders.

“I bought it because I thought it might humor you,” you mumble while he takes your hands in his.

You see how much he’s gushing with happiness. You think he’s so cute, happy that your costume has such a positive effect on him. But you’re slightly annoyed that he’s able to move onto a different subject so quickly while you’re still stuck on the last one. You want more.

However, he tells you he really likes you and leans in to peck your cheek. When he pulls back, the bathroom door opens, and out steps Lee Jihoon who immediately grabs DK by his left ear and drags him away from you. “No fucking in the hallway,” he reprimands his friend.

DK only smiles at you while he’s being pulled away by his ear, too drunk to care, two finger hearts pointed directly at you.

You can only stand next to the vacant bathroom, now soberer than ever and seriously turned on.

You wake up on the floor next to your bed and slowly push yourself off the carpet, feeling the soreness in your body. You look at the carpet indents in your arm and then your surroundings. You notice your bed is empty, and Chan is asleep in his extra set of clothes, sprawled on the floor near your bedroom door. You can’t remember what happened in the latter half of the night, but you can at least deduce that all of you were at least sober enough to change out of your costumes and get ready for bed.

Your body is sore from sleeping on your floor, and you still feel pretty groggy. Still, the sweet scent of something coming from the kitchen is enough to convince you to walk outside instead of moving onto your bed to sleep some more. You stand up, knees cracking loudly, and you cross over Chan to exit your bedroom. You think it’s Jun who’s cooking, but you see him in his monkey onesie, passed out next to your rack of shoes near your entrance with a spare blanket covering him.

At least he has a blanket, you think to yourself. You woke up cold and with nothing covering you.

You see him standing in front of your toaster, wearing the extra set of clothes he keeps at your place. You see him place waffles into your toaster, minding his business while he hums to himself.

“Why are you here?” you approach him and stand by his side. You can see used wine glasses in the sink and opened chip bags you don’t remember buying sitting on the counter. The four of you probably continued drinking after arriving at your apartment. You hope there’s nobody else sleeping in your place.

“I dunno,” DK shrugs and proceeds to greet you by pulling you into his arms while he stands behind you, keeping a close eye on the frozen waffles.

You don’t get how he can look like he didn’t spend all of last night drinking. He looks completely refreshed with the kind of glow, an aura, you have after a good workout…not that you ever experienced what it must be like. He just looks like one of those smiling actors in fitness commercials.

You can feel his chest rumble against your back as he tells you he’s sorry he couldn’t cook something better for the four of you because he’s been living in the dorms for years. He honestly hasn’t touched a stove since he went home last summer. However, he did perfect cooking frozen food in microwaves and toasters. It’s the least he can do. He also quickly adds that he’s sorry he’s cooking all of your frozen waffles and would gladly reimburse you. You tell him to fuck off. There’s no way you would ever make him pay you back for making breakfast. He should know that by now.

The toaster pops, scaring you a little. A long yawn follows, and DK chuckles at you rubbing your eyes. He removes the waffles from the toaster and tells you to close your eyes. You dumbly follow, believing he’s going to kiss you when he cups your face in his hands. Instead, he rubs the inner corner of your eyes with his thumbs. “Eye boogers,” he says.

“Gross,” you watch him flick them to the ground.

“You thought that I was going to kiss you, huh,” he teases you while adding more frozen waffles into the toaster.

You grumble at him and stand to the side, leaning against your fridge. Your arms are crossed, and you watch him go back to humming the song he was humming before. It’s the same song playing from the speakers when the three of you decide to bring DK back to your apartment as there was no way he would have been allowed on campus in his state. It was partly Chan’s fault for getting him so fucked up – he couldn’t find regular vodka for the bowl so he replaced it with some Everclear he found tucked away under the sink. Jun tells him he really needs to stop snooping in Jeonghan’s cabinets. That’s when your memory starts to clear.

“Do you happen to remember what you told me before Jihoon dragged you away?” you curiously ask him.

You expect him to deny the memory or laugh at your sudden boldness, but he tells you that he knows better than to drink to the point where he blacks out and loses his memory. He would also like to stay true to his word, all of it.

“If you’re going to fuck in the kitchen, at least give us the waffles first,” Jun groans from the hallway.

DK winks at you in response, but you don’t know if he was referring to his second confession or if he promised the reality of his sexual fantasy. Before you can clarify, Jun appears in the kitchen, opening the dishwasher to grab a ceramic plate.

It shouldn’t be this confusing. DK told you that he liked you twice. You’re also pretty sure you like him. Nevertheless, it’s DK. He tends to joke around and switch from topic to topic. He throws words of affirmation at everybody he talks with. He confuses you even when you feel like you shouldn't be confused. 

“God Yn. You can’t be doing this to me.”

He sits upright, and his hands are positioned to his sides, tightly gripping his bedsheets.

You use his thighs as your support as you ride him, slowly bouncing up and down so he can watch his cock appear and disappear into your cunt.

You feel him twitching in you as you let soft moans float out of your mouth as you arch your back more and lean your head back toward the ceiling. You make sure you gyrate your hips switching between circular and back and forth motions as you continue to fuck yourself on his cock. He wonders how your soft mewls would break into staccato moans if you were to continuously bounce on him, letting lust cloud his thoughts.

Then you lean further backward, practically grinding on him. He feels your ass rub against his balls, and he does everything he can to restrain himself from rutting himself upwards into your cunt. He knows your thighs are tired as your breathing gets heavier and the way you grind against him gets messier. You sit on him, your whole body trembling and twitching from pleasure simply from the feeling of him fitting so snugly inside you. He feels so warm today, so good, stretching you nicely as you tell him all he needs to do is to sit there and look pretty. You reward him by sitting upright, guiding his hands from behind his back so they rest on your ass. He kneads them roughly, feeling your skin fill the spaces between his fingers.

Your ass cheeks feel sore, and you can’t stop panting when grind on him, rocking him so crudely that his bed begins to squeak. You bring a hand in front of you to start rubbing your nub, and high-pitched whimpers instantaneously escape your mouth. Your soft circular motions increase speed, attacking your soft flesh and making you forget he’s in you.

“Hng Seok,” your face is scrunched in pleasure, “Fucking myself feels so good.” You smirk at him as you ride out your high, knowing very well it would piss him off. You can tell he’s already a little upset you’re fucking him in cowgirl when he doesn’t get to do anything but sit there. 

Annoyed, he brings his right hand upwards and brings it down quickly against your ass. The crisp slap rings throughout his empty room, and he feels you clench around him as you gasp out loud. He slaps your ass again, finding deep pleasure in watching you pulse and quake around him and hearing you moan. 

You lift yourself slightly upwards, having regained some energy, and reach under you to grab the base of his shaft. You watch his face contort from annoyance to surprise to pleasure as you stroke him, squeezing and releasing incrementally as you simultaneously fuck his upper half. 

You can tell he is about to cum when he starts reaching for your face. He wants to make out with you, to dig his fingers into your back as you suck his neck. He moans your name, cavernous and gutturally, and tells you you’re doing so well. His sweet, sweet baby. The way you’re fucking him makes him go feral. 

Just then, there is a knock on his door, and he immediately pushes you off of him, practically hopping off his bed so he can run to his door barefooted and naked. He tells them to wait a minute as he’s wrapping something up. 

You sigh, quickly following behind him so you can hide in his closet, already used to having his residents show up out of the blue. You hand him his sweater and a pair of shorts before climbing into his closet and closing the doors behind you. 

You hear him open his door a minute later. You’re not sure what the topic of their conversation is as everything sounds muffled. You hear DK tell them that he has to grab a few things first, and then he’ll meet them in their room. He closes his front door and opens his closet. 

He looks worried. You observe it must be something important or an emergency as he doesn’t bother to make himself look presentable or deodorize the smell of sex lingering on his skin. He tells you he’s sorry and that he’ll try to be quick. He kisses you on the forehead before leaving with his stuff. However, he tells you you’re welcome to leave. And you sit there in his closet, alone and naked, the spot on your forehead burning. The motion-sensor lights in his bedroom turn themselves off, and you know you’re fucked by the way he gave you a choice to leave instead of telling you, begging you, finding stupid ways to get you to stay like he always does. 

Your feelings are hurt, and you’re pathetically close to tears. Why is it that every time you look at him or talk to him, it feels like you have to stop yourself from having your confession burst out of your mouth? “I like you” always feels like it’s sitting on the tip of your tongue, and you’re too scared to confess to him. 

It’s dark inside the closet, but you’ve been in his room enough times to know what’s hanging above you and sitting beside you. His business shirts are hanging above your head. On the other side of the closet, he has his pants. They’re organized by fabric type and colors. The jeans hang on the far right side of the closet. The sweats and athletic tights are next. Then he has his business pants. Dark colors are on the right, and light colors are on the left. His clothing hanger hooks are always hung over the closet rod, never under. Yet, at this moment, everything feels so foreign, like you’re a new person in a new place. But it’s because you are a different person now – a person who has fallen for their friends with benefits. 

The metal front door whirs and clicks open. You can hear the automatic lights flicker. He tells you he’s alone and that you can come out as he sees your stuff in his room. You’re not replying. 

“Shit Yn,” he opens his closet to find you still sitting in the dark closet, staring into nothing. “Aren’t you cold?”

You shake your head.

“Did you go pee? You should go pee,” he says expressionlessly. There’s not an ounce of care present in his suggestion.  

He leaves your side and stalks over to his bed, throwing himself on it. He loudly groans into a pillow to rid some of his stress. You can only climb out of the closet, your jaw clenched. “I like you! I like you a lot” is still in your mouth, taunting you, threatening to escape. 

“Is he done yet?”

“Bro he literally just started. Have a little more faith in Chan, okay?” you mumble at Jun while looking at your phone. You lock the screen and place your phone face down on the table.

Today is a day for firsts. It is the first time Jun and you are trying the café across the nice-looking residential building near campus. It’s the first time you try an iced mint mojito coffee when you usually have its alcoholic counterpart. It’s the first time Jun had a professor cancel class this semester. It’s also the first time Chan hooks up with somebody he met on the dating app Jun set up for him. It’s also the first time you’ll openly admit that Jun somehow has the most “game” compared to the three of you. Strange universe.

Jun knows something is bothering you. Your comebacks have become snarkier, yet you’ve been more lenient with whatever he does around you. He once told you to pay for the three of your dinners, and you passed him your credit card without saying anything. And it’s not like DK hasn’t been becoming less of the topic of your conversations - you’ve been quieter. And he doesn’t know what’s going on because he’s scared you might punch him. So he doesn’t ask you and only looks around the café’s nice interior, choosing to count the number of glossy white honeycomb tiles on the wall.

“How can you walk up to somebody and ask them out even though you don’t know them?” you blurt loudly at him out of the blue.

“Me?” Jun dumbly asks you. He already forgot the tile number he was on.

You nod your head while you bring your drink up to your lips.

He leans back into his chair and crosses his arms.

“You know how blunt I am.”

You nod your head, recounting all of the times he was called out for his bluntness.

“I think you already know how I can sometimes rub people off in the wrong way because I accidentally say things that I don’t mean. Sometimes people like you understand me and sometimes people don’t. I guess it’s like people liking you? Sometimes people will like my bluntness and sometimes it comes off in the wrong way. So I think it’s the same for liking people? You either like somebody or you don’t? So I’ll ask anybody out as long as I’m interested in them because the answer is always a simple yes or no.”

You’re so confused.

“You literally jumped from one topic to another. I literally could not follow you at all,” you blink.

“Well I’m sorry,” he throws his hands up in defeat. He’s not used to giving helpful advice nor is he used to having people go to him for advice. He wonders if he should start counting the number of chairs in the café.

He remembers an interaction he had in front of your apartment building last week. He was surprised that DK would call him and ask if he could meet him in front of your apartment. Jun told him that Yn is home and that he could just knock on your door, but DK unequivocally rejected his idea and told Jun to come. Jun saw him walking back in forth in front of your apartment building sign with a bunch of ugly roses in his hand, obviously stressed out of his mind. He asked him what was wrong.

“I dunno. I think they’ve been avoiding me for some reason,” DK tells Jun once he feels calmer with the older boy around him. 

“But they’re literally wilting, bro,” Jun tells DK with clear judgment in his voice. “Some of the petals are black. I’d avoid you if you gave me wilting roses,” he points at all the petals with darkened tips and wrinkles.

“Yn will like them,” DK insists. “They think they look cool like that.”

Jun brought them to your apartment for DK, not wanting to ask or press him for more information. Although, he would have to admit it was a bit confusing to have DK ask him to deliver the flowers for him. Albeit, you are pretty scary when you’re mad. You were pretty enthusiastic when you saw the flowers in his hand, but you immediately slammed the door on him when he told you they were from DK. However, you did open your door again to let him use your restroom.

“Do you like DK but you’re having trouble figuring out whether or not he likes you?” Jun cautiously approaches you with his question.

You nod and spill your troubles to your best friend. You tell him about the two times he told you he liked you and about the day you hid in his closet. You tell him about the roses – how he didn’t text you or leave you a card so that you don’t know why he bought the roses and why he couldn’t deliver them himself. You tell him about the “not a date” dates and how he calls you pet names.

Jun tells you it sounds confusing, but it’s actually pretty normal to fall for your friend with benefits especially if you have a strong emotional connection. That’s how normal people fall in love. He feels for you and understands how confusing it must be for you when the two of you have basically skipped the dating part and landed in the married for thirty years part of the relationship without being in a relationship.

“But isn’t it tiring have to hide?” he asks you. “How many times did you have to hide because of a resident? How many times did you have to fake not knowing him or not liking him whenever you saw somebody flirting with him?”

“Too many times,” you admit. It’s exhausting.

Jun only nods and grabs his set of keys from the café table. He pulls out his wallet from his back pocket, “Lemme buy you dessert while I pay for Chan’s ‘congrats on your first hook-up’ cake.”

You stare at your friend, “You aren’t going to give me helpful advice?” You’re dumbfounded.

“Who do I look like to you? Yahoo answers? Reddit? If you want helpful advice, suck it up and tell him that you need to talk to him and talk. It’s going to eat you alive before your future cats get to eat you.”

Fuck. Jun’s right.

Today is a weird day for firsts.

“But I literally just nutted,” DK tells you while you storm into his dorm.

He’s shirtless and is wearing those grey sweatpants that ride dangerously low on his hips. He looks like he just woke up from a nap, his hair messy and matted. A bottle of unscented lotion sits on his nightstand.

“Did you want to shower or do laundry with me later?” he asks you, letting his door shut behind him. He follows you to his bed. “Did you want to get dinner with me? We have a while until Chan’s night class ends. I know you usually wait for him so you can walk home with him.”

You sit on the edge of his bed and pat the space next to you, telling him to sit next to you. He sits next to you and looks at you with a worried expression.

“I’m going to be honest, I don’t think I have it in me to fuck right now unless you find a way to help me get it up,” he confesses while scratching the back of his ear. He’ll say anything to fill the awkward silence, but he’s glad to see you after being out of touch for a week.

He sees you frowning, and his breath hitches when you turn to him.

“You confuse me DK,” your voice wavers. “I like you so much, but you keep on sending me mixed signals by telling me you like me and then acting like nothing happened. And then you’re so kind to me, and you call me those names while constantly treating me like I’m in a relationship with you when I’m not.”

“Oh, Yn,” his lip quivers.

“You don’t understand how much I like you, how much I want to stop being friends with benefits with you. But you confuse me so much. Your kindness is confusing and I wish you were meaner so I wouldn’t have fallen for you…why are you crying?” you slap his bicep.

He flinches in pain from the slap because he’s still shirtless, but the tears keep running down his face.

“I’m sorry,” he cries while clutching his arm. “I thought I was being straightforward with my feelings, but I hurt you instead,” he wails, “I’ve started liking you longer than you could imagine.”

You don’t know how to react to him crying while confessing, so you awkwardly get up and walk over to his mini fridge to bring him one of his frozen sponge packs to ice his arm.

.

You kiss him back before closing his large metal dormitory door behind you. His keypad whirs and clicks its automatic lock into place, and you make your way to the hallway elevators, giddy on the inside.

You make your way past all the bright green dormitory doors and stop in front of the elevators. At the side of the elevator is the large classroom bulletin board with DK’s stupid laminated face smiling at you. This time the board is sky blue. You can recognize the clouds glued onto the board anywhere – they’re sheep repurposed into clouds from when he did the board about sleep facts. Hot air balloons decorate the board. Expensive cardstock letters spell the title: Love is in the air, and so are STDs! You snicker at the tiny rips in the blue background from students ripping off the taped condoms to use for themselves before stepping into the elevator.

Your phone in your pocket buzzes when you step out of the elevator and exit the dormitory. You pull out your phone while standing outside. It’s a text from DK. He says he’s been waiting for a while now, but he wants to be a bit selfish tonight. He asks you if you’re free this Friday night even though he knows your schedule like the back of his hand. He sends another text to let you know he’s horny again, but he missed you. A lot. 

Stepping to the side to let other residents in and out of the dorm, you make your way along the front of the dormitory so you stop under his window. You see him looking out to check if you made it out of the building. You wave at him and hold your phone up for him to see while giving him a thumbs up. He triumphs when he realizes you're agreeing to go on a real date with him, and you laugh when you see his figure disappear when he trips while jumping. He comes back to his window with a shirt on this time. He waves goodbye to you, and you wave back with a large smile on your face. This time the smile doesn’t drop. 

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 1: You Shouldn't Have Answered The Door

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter one of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (once or twice), Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Masterlist

Chapter 2

******************************************

Present Day

Your head rests against your forearms on your desk, jerking upwards as a loud rhythmic knocking assaults the front door of your apartment.

What?

You think to yourself, rubbing your face with your hands. Your sketchpad was laid open on your desk beneath your head, the rough sketch of an egret bowing its head along the bank of a small pond splayed over the page in shades of gray. It would be the first in your new series of nature paintings that you would be unveiling in a month.

At least I didn't poke my eye out with the pencil. You think eyeing the sharpened point of the pencil that was dangerously close to your face a few seconds ago.

You turn your wrist to glance at your watch and note the time. It was an antique, square faced and strung on a simple black band, a reminder of a past life that you couldn't bear to part with.

Who would come see me at 8:00 am on a Monday?

For a minute you try to remember if you'd received a call from the curator of the gallery downtown, or if there had been a meeting or a lunch with your agent to discuss your next installment of work, but nothing comes to mind.

When you officially retired from being a hero you decided to become a full time artist, a hobby you had since you were a child. You hadn't expected it explode. You had enough money from your heroing career to live several lifetimes, not unwelcome given the fact that you couldn't die, not in the traditional sense at least, so art was supposed to just be a way for you to off steam. But you were happy with your life now, a lot happier than you had been when you were a hero on Payback. The thought of your previous employment with Vought sours in your mouth followed by the unavoidable thought of Ben that you push down with a well practiced sigh.

You didn't feel like reliving all that over again right now, though you knew it would probably happen later. It came in waves, especially at night when you found it difficult to sleep, the melatonin wasn't working, and all you really wanted was a hard drink.

Sobriety sucked.

The knocking persists, rattling around in your head like a bee trying to get out of a plastic cup.

"Fine. I'm coming." You shout standing up from your desk and making your way from the wall that serves as your studio towards the front door of your apartment, while trying to rub away the line the page made on your cheek.

Your apartment was the one extravagance you allowed yourself. Despite the amount of money you had, flashing it had never been a priority even in your hero days. The apartment was open concept with exposed brick walls, tall North facing windows that angled away from the inside and jutted outward over a raised wooden floored area that served as your studio. A large modern kitchen sat just to the right of the front door with stainless steel appliances, on another wall a tv hung above a leather couch and held a dark hallway that lead to your bedroom and the guest bedroom, the other walls were covered in your work, and the final wall held several bookshelves with art supplies and your vinyl record collection. A collection you started forever ago and that continued to grow with each passing year.

Need to get another bookshelf. You note looking at the limited space that remained.

You look through the peep hole in the solid metal apartment door. A tall dark haired man wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a black duster and a thin younger guy with brown curly hair stare back at you.

"I don't want to buy any girl scout cookies." You shout through the heavy metal of the door.

The younger guy snorts.

"y/f/n y/l/n?" The dark haired man asks an accent tilting the ends of his words.

"Who's asking?"

He pulls out a badge, holding it up to the peep hole. "I'm Agent Butcher, this is Agent Campbell. We’re from the CIA, here to ask you a couple of questions about Soldier Boy."

At the mention of Ben's hero name you pause. You had avoided thinking about your former best friend as much as possible over the past forty years. Your relationship with Ben was complicated, the final few days you spent together even more complicated than the early years.

It hurt to compare what your life with him was like before you both became supes to the life you had together after. You had grown up together, forced into close proximity because your parents were friends and then became best friends yourselves. You stayed friends, before you both got injected with Compound V and a few years later moved on to Payback together. You were the only person able to keep Ben in check and as violent as his temper was, he didn't like to cross you. You were the only person who knew the real him, had been with him longer than anyone else. Not that he ever admitted that to you or admitted that he cared about you, but you thought somewhere deep down that he had to, felt at least something for you.

That was the problem. You were in love with him, cared deeply about him, cared more about him than anyone else you'd ever had in your life. On the night you finally slept together you were happy, you thought he felt the same way, and then the next day at his premiere you found him in the bathroom with Countess bent over a sink. The fight that followed had been your resignation from Payback and also the reason why you weren't there when Ben died.

Your jaw clenches together at the memory, followed by guilt. You were always there for him, you had his back just as he had yours, but the one time you hadn't been there-

You open the door to look at them. "The singer?"

"What?" Agent Butcher looks confused.

"The artist? Soulja Boy-" You arch a brow feigning confusion. "Because honestly I don't understand why the CIA would be asking me about that."

“No.” Agent Butcher holds up a photo.

You keep your face impassive. It’s a photo of Ben and you at a movie premiere the week before he left to go to Nicaragua. Both of you were standing in your supe suits, your own was a sleeveless black one piece suit with purple embellishments that traced from the sides of your ankles and stretched up under your armpits, while a dark hood covered your head and a black mask hid the bottom of your face. You always thought you looked more like a supervillain in it, but you were thankful that it hid your identity. It was so long ago, but you still remember that night clearly. The ridiculous movie, the afterparty where everyone was so tipsy and the smell of alcohol burned against your nose, and finally when you went to the bathroom and found Ben and Countess together, the immeasurable rage followed by heartbreak that you felt when you saw them.  Not to mention the fight that followed when Ben trampled all over your heart and stated that you meant nothing to him.

“You’re here to talk to me about my mom?” You flit your eyes back to the two men standing in the doorway, easily slipping into the lie that you and Legend invented.

“Your mom?” Agent Campbell looks confused.

“Yeah. Indigo? I mean y’all can come in if you want-“ You open the door wider, understanding that they won't leave, before you begin to move towards the kitchen. “I apologize in advance. I’m not quite myself, I was up late working.” You pause halfway into the kitchen. “I’m going to make some coffee, you guys want some?” You eye the man in the black coat. "Or tea?"

“Coffee is fine."

You find the coffee filters and shuffle through the cupboards to find a bag of coffee, still trying to wake up. Staying up late wasn't unusual for you. You tended to find the urge to create in the wee hours of the morning, not to mention everything that happened in the past kept you up.

You open the bag of coffee to smell the grounds, thinking that it will wake you up, but as soon as you do the smell of Agent Butcher and Agent Campbell washes over you.

You could smell the compound V in their veins pumping through their bodies with every beat of their hearts.

So, they're supes. You think to yourself, pouring the grounds into the coffeemaker. Which means they probably aren't from the CIA.

Despite the realization, you weren't worried. Your particular ability was a well-kept secret, a secret that only Ben knew despite you being on Payback. Stan Edgar and the others had believed that "Indigo," the hero name assigned to you, had enhanced strength and senses, but it was more than that. You had an ability that, if brought to the public, would probably land you in a government facility. Laying low had it's perks, your freedom was one of them.

You watch them begin to walk around your living room examining the artifacts of your new life, the one you crafted when everything fell apart. There wasn't anything in the living room to arouse suspicion that you were the original Indigo. The only remnants of your past life that remained were in a wooden trunk at the back of your walk in closet, hidden behind a collection of paint splattered overalls almost identical to the pair you were wearing right now.

"You've got a nice place." The younger guy says looking around.

"Thanks. It's rent controlled. I got lucky-" You fiddle with the coffeemaker to buy yourself some time.

Why were they here to ask me about Ben? It had been 40 years, hardly seems relevant now. And why were they pretending to be CIA?

"You're an artist?" Agent Butcher asks, staring at the canvas sitting on an easel by your desk. It was a collection of multicolored dark greens that swirled together, flecked with pieces of gold that shone in the brilliant sunlight from the wall of windows where your studio was.

"Yeah. And I tend to paint my best at night. Hence the coffee" You turn, placing your hands on the island to face the two men.

“You’re really good.” Agent Campbell says examining some of the canvases on the wall.

“Thanks.”

“So your mum eh?” Agent Butcher turns to look at you. You note the smirk on his face and incredulous raising of his brow.

He doesn't believe me. Hard not to. I don't age.

“Yes?” You raise an eyebrow to challenge him

“You look a lot like her.”

“Thanks. I think there’s a compliment in there somewhere.” You look from Butcher to the younger guy who has moved on to look at your vinyl collection. "And I'm pretty sure that most kids look like their parents. But I'm not a geneticist."

"NO WAY! You have a signed copy of Billy Joel's Glass House!" Agent Campbell shouts holding up the vinyl cover in awe.

"Yeah." You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm.

"How did you-“

"Hughie." Agent Butcher sighs.

The younger guy now identified as Hughie puts the record back with a frown, before turning back to the collection.

“But you have the same name.” Agent Butcher's eyes flit to yours.

“She named me after herself. I’m sure the CIA can locate my birth certificate."

“Right.” Agent Butcher smiles, but it’s tight lipped.

You stand there for another minute looking from Agent Butcher to Hughie, trying to think of why they're here. "So what do you want to know?”

“Well is your mum around-“

You allow your shoulders to droop and take in a shaky breath. "She died about a year ago. Cancer."

They weren't the first to come here and accuse you of being Indigo. Legend and you had come up with the farce to protect you, help you start over, but you hadn't wanted to part with your name. So other precautions were put in place: a funeral plot was purchased and a death certificate was issued as was a fake passport, I.D, and birth certificate that made you thirty two rather than over one hundred.

“Really? I thought Indigo-“ It’s enough to make Hughie turn around and look at you.

“Don’t read everything Vought says." You interrupt. "That experimental shit they put in her veins may have made her powerful, but it couldn’t protect her from that.” You sigh again to sell the lie, before turning to the coffee maker, to pour them and yourself a cup. "There should be some milk in there, sugar's in the bowl." You gesture to the refrigerator and the small blown glass sugar bowl on the counter next to the coffee maker.

Hughie moves into the kitchen to pour himself a cup, but Agent Butcher continues to eye you suspiciously.

“It wasn’t in the news.” He grunts.

“They covered it up pretty well. I mean do you blame them? One of the first supes gets killed by something like cancer. Can’t be good for Vought given they pride themselves on showcasing unstoppable heroes. I mean can you imagine if Homelander or Queen Maeve died of something like cancer? Doesn’t look good.” You shrug your shoulders and take a sip from the coffee in your hands. “What did you want to talk to her about?”

“Soldier Boy.” Butcher moves to the coffeemaker and it takes a strong amount of willpower to stop the urge to turn towards him, but you know that you need to act indifferent.

“Did she talk to you at all about him?” Hughie moves to one of the bar stools on the opposite side of the island with his coffee in front of him.

“Yeah.” You look down at the mug with a sigh, rolling the warm glass between your hands. “He really did a number on her. Plus towards the end she started seeing him everywhere."

The emotion that you summon is not fake. You allow a small amount to trickle over the dam you built to protect yourself from falling back into the pit you fell into when Ben broke your heart and then died. When you broke every piece of glass in your apartment and threw your couch through the wall.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Hughie looks sincere when he says it.

Why is someone like him hanging out with this guy? You think to yourself eyeing Agent Butcher again.

“It’s been hard. But I took care of her, sometimes it was only me. It’s kind of hard to restrain an 103 year old with super strength.” You smile to yourself at the joke.

“So you’re a supe?” Hughie takes a sip from his coffee mug.

“No I was just able to talk her down. Guess that first batch of Compound V doesn’t work the same way. Never transferred. Plus my dad wasn’t a supe so maybe it just diluted.” You shrug, the lies weaving easily through the air. 

“But she did talk to you about him?” Agent Butcher presses. He's leaning against the counter to your left.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“I mean what do you want to hear? There’s a lot.” The mug sends a pleasant warmth through your hands as you hold it, but does little to stop the chill of the past from creeping up your spine.

“Start at the beginning.”

“Well.” You take another sip of coffee. “I don’t know details-details but- I just know that she grew up with him, they were from the same neighborhood in Philadelphia.  All that shit they made up about Soldier Boy being from a poor family was just propaganda. His dad owned half the steel mills in the state of Pennsylvania. Used to invest in property with my grandfather. Soldier Boy and my mom were friends. When he got the Compound V shot, she did too. They were looking for female and male volunteers. I think he asked her to? Or-“ You shrug your shoulders to push away the memory of the day Ben told you about the experiments. When he told you he was finally going to make something of himself and convinced you to go with him.

“They were dating?” Agent Butcher asks.

The question makes you pause. It was difficult to think about that, difficult to relive the memories of Ben continuing to push you away and his final refusal to admit he loved you. Ben never did say that to you. You had been through so much together, so many years as friends and then after the night you finally were together he threw you away like you meant nothing.

“No, but he really hurt her-“ You avoid their gaze.

“What did he do?” Hughie asks leaning forward on the counter.

“They had been through a lot together and I think when their friendship began to transfer to relationship he pushed her away. My mother said something about him refusing to admit he loved her. I think the last straw when she caught him with Countess.”

“Do you know anything about how he died?”

The memory of the phone call strikes you in the chest, when Stan Edgar himself called to tell you Ben was dead. When the darkness swallowed you whole and all you felt was guilt and heart break over the fight you had and how you left him alone when he needed you most.

“It hurt my mother a lot. Broke her. She never really got over him, no one was good enough, not even my dad. She drove him away too and then it was just us.”

“Was she there when Soldier Boy died?” Hughie spins the coffee mug in his hands.

“No. She left Payback  before that mission. It was right after she caught Countess and him together.” You force a shrug. “I think she regretted not being there. She was almost as indestructible as him, but I think she felt worse because they had a big fight right before.”

“So she didn’t know about Nicaragua or the thing that killed him?” Agent Butcher raises an eyebrow.

You cock your head to the side feigning confusion. “What are you talking about? Soldier Boy got vaporized in a nuclear explosion.”

“Well I think we’ve wasted enough of your time.”

They get up to leave.

“Wait-“

 Agent Butcher turns to look at you. 

“Why are you asking me about him? It's been what? Forty years since he died-"

"That's classified love. Thank you for your time."

You watch them leave, but listen to them as they walk down the hallway.

“So do you believe her?” Hughie’s voice echoes in your ears.

“Not a bit. Maybe we trail her for a day. See if she really is an artist." Agent Butcher grunts. "At least until we go to Russia."

Russia? Why would they go to Russia?

You stand there for a second, holding the coffee mug in your hands. As you do the memories of the past 90 years wash across your mind, breaking through the damn that you built to protect yourself.

You were friends for years. You loved him since the moment you met. There were good times before the serum and then the bad, when he got famous and you were there to keep him in check. Sure you may have annoyed him, but he liked that about you, that you were able to bring him back from the edge. The day you finally had sex you remembered it, it was special, or you thought it was. You were excited that finally he loved you as much as you loved him. But then it all fell apart. That fight hadn’t been pretty. When you left him you felt yourself begin to slip, you didn’t eat or drink for days and when you finally got the phone call you thought it was him trying to apologize, but it was Stan.

You think again about Russia and finally your mind drifts to Countess.

She was the one that said that the Russians killed Ben, she saw it happen, saw his body get taken away-

Your jaw clenches together in anger and frustration as you remember the last time you saw her, when she taunted you and you almost ripped off her head. You never heard it directly from her that Ben was dead, only heard it from Stan. Of course the ridiculous funeral for Ben that you were expected to go to would mean that you saw her, but you hadn't gone, didn't want to keep up the charade. Instead you went to Philadelphia and walked the streets aimlessly with a bottle of whiskey in your hand, remembering what it was like when you were kids. Sometimes you think it all would have been different if you never got the injection, if you said no when he showed up in your bedroom and asked you to come with him. He was your oldest friend. The only real person you'd ever loved or cared about. The memory of the fight rings in your ears but you push it down.

You think again about Countess.  She was the reason why Ben and you had the fight. The reason you weren't there in Nicaragua. Regret spikes in your chest. You should have been there that day, should have tried to save him. You always had each others backs and the one time you weren't there he died.

Maybe it was time to pay her a visit.

**********************************************

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373

[pettypiastri]

my boyfriend's boyfriend

jamie drysdale x fem reader ft. trevor zegras

requested by @corneliaskates: "okay in light of these photos… I’m making you write jamie for me what about like moving in with him but like moving in with him also means moving in with trevor and… chaos ensues"

wc: 2.3k

warnings: blood in the context of undercooked food and also minor injury, reference to Jamie's shoulder injury and doctors offices, swearing, mention of drugs in a medical context, chaos, buffoonary

a/n: just some fun casual writing for a collection of scenes that i think you’d likely see upon moving into the zegras/drysdale household, pls enjoy the chaos! lots of this unhinged behavior we already knew about the 2 of them but a few details came from the recent "The Players Lounge" podcast episodes with jamie and trevor so go listen! (also would the homies wanna see me write for mason mctavish cause i really would love to do so)

Jamie stares blankly at the doctor as he continues to come to. He doesn’t hear the inquisition the doctor made. The first thought on his mind is the only thought he's had since he skated off the ice, his left shoulder in a dead hang: his season is over, there’s no way around it. 

“Mr. Drysdale?” The physician tries to get Jamie’s attention. 

“Yes, umm I’ll be there to help him. I’ve taken time off work.” Jamie turns his head slowly to look at you. He barely registers what you’ve said. He almost wants to ask you to repeat it but he knows he heard you right. The doctor shifts toward you, flipping through the aftercare instructions and various medications Jamie will have to take. You’re collected, attentive, and receptive all the while Jamie’s eyes bore into your profile, trying to understand. He’s still drowning in self-wallowing and frustration and now is trying to parse through the funny sort of feeling in his heart watching you prepare yourself to be a part time caretaker for him. Not only are you here right now, you’ve just admitted out loud, without any previous discussion between the two of you that you are not just willing but going to help him during his recovery?? He feels an intensity to communicate his love and appreciation for you that he’s not used to but ends up manifesting as,

“Will you move in with me?” The door to the exam room has just barely clicked shut from the doctor’s exit. Your spine is rod straight now from where you were previously collecting your purse and coat. Jamie’s always been a fiddler, twitching and messing with loose skin on his finger or the belt loop of your jeans, but now he sits perfectly still as he stares at you. 

“Where’s the big red button, I think they gave you too much of something bud.” Humor always serves as a great deflection tactic for you but Jamie won’t let you off the hook.

“No no, I’m serious. Do you want to move in with me?” Your expression remains slightly standoffish as you draw closer to the bed. As you prop yourself on the hospital bed, you notice his eyes are inviting, stoic: a safe place to land. Lazy fingers reach to soothe Jamie’s uninjured arm. 

“Would you have asked me if you hadn’t torn your shoulder?” Jamie’s nod is emphatic. 

“Yes, it probably just would’ve taken me a bit longer to ask. You still make me nervous-- but like in a good way, in a good way.” Jamie stumbling over his words endears you like nothing else. “I kind of hate being without you, not in a weird codependent way, I just really like who I am when you’re around.” 

Your mind is already made up after Jamie’s unbridled honesty but you still have to ask,

“Shouldn’t you run this by Trev first maybe?” He is a member of the household, though not much of a contributing one. To sell his conviction, Jamie’s eyes don’t leave yours as he reaches for his phone in the back pocket of the jeans he thinks he’s wearing. He gets an awful fright meeting bare skin under the hospital gown. Creasing at the waist with laughter doesn’t hinder you too much as you dig for his phone in your purse. He takes it sheepishly from your grasp. As he dials Trevor’s number, you urge him to put it on speaker phone.

“Jimmy! How high are you, man??”

“Z, Y/N’s gonna move in with us.”

“I thought she already lived here?”

—

Since the moment of Jamie’s injury you’ve been practically inseparable. Surgeon consultations, post op, helping him dress, cooking for him, you’ve truly been there for it all for Jamie. Now that he’s several months post op and regained most all of his range of motion, he’s been eager to pick up some slack. 

“Are they closed?” 

“Jamie my love, yes. I’ve literally had them closed every time you’ve asked in the last 15 minutes.” You sigh, patience thinning at both the frequent reminders and… well… how goddamn slow Jamie’s being. To pass the time, you’ve taken to concocting a game with the yellow spots on the inside of your closed eyelids.

“Dude it’s been fucking hours would you hurry up already?” 

“Trevor, no one asked you.” Jamie snips at his childish best friend. It’s date night tonight and Jamie wanted to cook for you. Trevor decided, because he is cripplingly codependent, that he just had to sit on the living room couch to scroll Instagram. You’ve mentally taken the under on Trevor stealing some of your bread with olive oil within the first five minutes of it being in front of you because ‘Jimmy why didn’t you make any for me too?’

“Okay it's ready, you can open!” Slowly doing as you’re told to readjust to the well lit dining room, you catch Jamie scurrying around to his side of the table. His face holds an adorably pleased expression, you can tell he’s very proud of himself. The spread in front of you is barbequed steak, bread with olive oil, and a green salad; a shockingly balanced meal. A normally restless boy, Jamie vibrates with excitement even more now as he waits for your appraisal. 

“Jamie baby, it looks amazing! Thank you!” Crows' feet emerge to compensate for his smile becoming impossibly wider, yet he’s still a bit shy, bashful after your praise.

“I’d hope so, it took you long enough Jimbo,” the peanut gallery croons again. You don’t even acknowledge Trevor as you begin to saw through your steak… until red liquid begins to pour out… Stunned and surprised, your mouth gapes for a moment, finding the gentlest way to put things.

“Jamie,” drawing out the final vowel, your eyes flick to his. His expression is eager with eyebrows raised in question.

“How long was this steak on the barbeque for?” 

“Like 10 minutes I think? Why?” Jamie pales slightly at your question.

“I think the heat was too high babe.” Jamie observes his steak with a close eye and then oggles yours from across the table before reaching for his knife. 

“What do you mean? You said it looks amazing, I mean look at those char marks!” 

“Jamie baby, it's practically still moo’ing…” Trevor bursts out laughing, his stupid wheeze accompanying Jamie’s panic. As his knife breaches the admittedly lovely crust, bloody liquid pours out of Jamie’s steak as well. The color of his cheeks grows to match that of what's on his plate. Jamie starts to say something but it’s Trevor’s voice you both hear instead.

“Just put it in the microwave.” 

—

The team returned last night from the East coast road trip. You and Jamie have been in denial about Trevor’s return, trying to stretch out the silence with a lazy day on the couch. Trevor however has had other plans.

“Why do I have the least blanket right now? I’m literally the tallest of us three.” 

“Because no one invited you to join?” You shove at Trevor’s toes that are digging into your thigh from how you’re sardine-d on the couch. He whines as you do so, pushing at you back. Harder. “Ow Trevor stop!” 

“What I’m not fucking doing anything!” 

“Guys! I can’t hear what they’re saying!” Jamie bursts, effectively shutting you both up. Trevor glares at you as you snuggle further into Jamie’s chest, Jamie's arm visibly tightening around you. The face you give Trevor is smug. 

“Fine, I’ll just go somewhere else then.” As he stands from the couch he makes an equally childish display of flipping the blanket up and over your head, messing up your hair and covering your eyes.

Jamie coos quietly at you not to say anything or react so you remain calm and settle in to watch the rest of the current episode of Yellowstone with your boyfriend.

A few minutes later when there is a distinct cacophony of falling caps, banging metal doors, and at least a liter container of liquid (hopefully closed) hitting the floor, it’s not hard to tell Trevor has decided to do his laundry. He comes back upstairs acting as if nothing was afoot. 

It’s not until an hour later when Trevor has made the switch to the dryer that you notice something actually might be off. Wafting up from downstairs is a distinct smell of burning. You pause to be sure your nose isn’t confusing something else before voicing your worry.

“Do you smell that?” Jamie sniffs violently enough to be audible. 

“What are you– oh shit!” Jamie moves from behind your back leaving you flopping onto yours from his quickness. “Trevor!!” He shouts while bounding down the stairs. “I told you, you have to clean the lint trap every single time you use the dryer!” His voice grows inaudible the farther downstairs he gets. Trevor peeks his head out from his room. 

“Was he talking to me?” You can’t help but laugh, hands covering your face in disbelief.

“Why are we friends with you?” 

“I’m fucking awesome, duh.”

—

“Okay don’t panic–” Is all you hear before you start to panic. “But umm Z might’ve slipped on the roof…” 

“Tell me you’re joking. Why are you calling me? Oh my god Jamie, call the trainer or something! Is he hurt?” It’s brisk in the shade where you stepped out of your office to answer the incessant calls from your boyfriend. You’re still not off for another hour. 

“I think he’s okay. Definitely tore open his leg but we put some stuff on it. He’s still complaining about it but you know him, he’s always complaining about something so I think he’s okay.” As Jamie finishes, your phone vibrates with a text. “I sent you a picture of it.” The picture reveals a shallow cut about 6 inches long down the front of Trevor’s calf. There’s still remnants of blood around the cut itself and more notably about 12 normal sized bandaids placed like a patchwork quilt over the area of interest. Idiots. “We didn’t wanna get in trouble with the team…” Jamie says softly, decidedly embarrassed.

“I see. Okay well great job with the band aids you guys. I’ll pick some more up on the way home and some other supplies. Why were you up there?” 

“I was playing guitar and Trevor came up to tell me he could do it better and then promptly took it from me.” There’s a pouty lilt to Jamie’s voice that makes you wonder if Trevor’s really the one that got hurt. 

“Did he damage your guitar Jim Jam?” A shiver rakes your body as you’re desperate to get back inside the office.

“No, thank god.” He’s quiet, waiting for your reply. 

“You’re doing great Jamie, it’s really coming along baby.” He chirps a thank you, easily excited by your dismissal of Trevor’s insult. The two of you say your goodbye’s over Trevor’s whining in the background. 

On your way home, as promised, you stop at a drugstore to grab some gauze and larger wraps for Trevor’s ‘injury.’ You send a snarky picture of two contending boxes of Band Aids side by side to Trevor. Your caption ‘Mandalorian or Tangled?’ Something tells you Trevor’s reply is completely serious when your phone lights up with ‘Flynn Rider.’

—

Jamie slips into your shared bathroom as you’re fanning gently at your face. He smiles kindly but doesn’t start a conversation. Instead he reaches for his toothbrush and sets to brushing his teeth. The two of you don’t normally get ready for bed together at the exact same time. Typically one of you is asleep on the couch and being prodded at by the other to come to bed. Well, you normally prod at Jamie while he normally gallantly carries you to bed without disturbing your sleep. As he brushes his teeth, Jamie observes you as his entertainment. He steadies himself with a hip popped against the counter and one foot crossed in front of the other. 

Jamie’s attention does not bother you. Being the type not to speak until prompted, Jamie’s stays silent, his watchful gaze comforting if anything. That is until his lips form a small smile around his toothbrush that begins to grow. Finally you flick your eyes over to him in the mirror and notice toothpaste beginning to trickle down his chin. A drop that was lingering ominously begins to fall so you lurch forward to catch it in the palm of your hand, not wanting to risk the white carpet square Jamie’s standing on. 

“If you keep smiling like that you’re gonna get toothpaste on yourself Jamie. Be careful.” The toothpaste in your palm is flicked into the sink before you promptly rinse your hand. Jamie heeds your warning, deciding it's time for him to rinse as well. After his hands are towel dried he moves to hug you from behind. The smile is still on his face.

“Seriously, what are you smiling about, mister?” A giggle escapes your chest. You feel Jamie’s shrug against your back as you dig for another product in the drawer next to you. 

“Dunno, I’m just so happy you’re here.” Around you, Jamie’s never shied away from honesty and it’s something you’ve always appreciated. The last few months living with Jamie and Trevor has been chaos, hell at times, and insanely stressful but you’ve still found joy in every moment. So you meet Jamie’s honesty with some of your own when you say,

“There’s no place I’d rather be.” 

Later, when the two of you find yourselves curled around each other in bed, under an excessive number of blankets, it’s like Trevor has ESP for when he’s being left out of affections. A knock on the conjoining wall confirms this theory. His voice is muffled but you can still make it out.

“I love you guys.” Jamie chuckles and kisses your forehead, shaking with laughter of your own.

“We love you too Trevor.”

[avocado-writing]

hii first of all, I love love love your writing so much so I gathered up courage to ask you for a Crowley x reader fanfic. I finished watching season 2 some days ago (💔) and I loved the minisode where their gravediggers and Crowley is high as fuck on laudanum, I think? So the request would be like Zira just manages to drag Crowley to your house and is like “girl take him i’m tired of his ass” and the reader tries to take care of him but he just does all his shenanigans and is super loud and cuddly (not that he’ll admit that the next day). Thank you so much and I understand if you don’t want to write this💕💕💕

notes: thank you so much! please never feel you have to gather courage to ask me for a request, I love receiving them! pairing: crowley x gn!reader rating: T (drug use)

There’s a sharp knocking at the door. It’s very late, so you suppose it’s a good thing that the knocker is insistent, or you’d have slept through it. You throw on a robe and shuffle downstairs. 

“Yes, alright, I’m on my way!” you bark. Groggily you take yourself to the front door and open it enough peer through. 

Aziraphale is holding Crowley up. The demon’s head is rolling around wildly, almost as if he’s possessed. They both look manic. You can’t have these two on your doorstep, if they’re spotted your nosy neighbours will never let you hear the end of it.

“Hullo! Er, sorry it’s late, but would you mind opening the door?” Aziraphale asks. Well; it’s more of a plea. With a groan you usher them both inside your house, slamming the door behind you before anyone can get a good look at the strange gentlemen you just welcomed. 

“What’s wrong with him?” you ask, bracing yourself for the worst. The angel waves a hand at you, dismissive.

“Nothing too much to be worried about, just–”

“Laudanum!” Crowley suddenly pipes up, loudly, causing both you and Aziraphale to jump in shock. “Whole bottle of it!”

With that the demon goes to take a step towards you, totally trips over his own feet, and tumbles heavily into your arms. You send Aziraphale a firm glance.

“Laudanum? What on earth did you let him drink that for!?”

“I didn’t let him do anything! Sometimes he’s just… impulsive,” Aziraphale says. “But please can I leave him here while he sobers up? I’ve just got a little business to finish sorting out.”

He sticks you with the most pathetic gaze you’ve ever seen, and while Crowley begins to fiddle with the tassel on your robe, you feel yourself caving.

“I’m not a nanny for when one of you gets sick,” you sigh… but finally relent, “but alright. This once. You’d better be back by morning, Aziraphale.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much! I absolutely owe you a favour.”

You’ve lost track of all the favours Aziraphale owes you now. You slough Crowley off your person and into an armchair so you can lock up as the angel leaves. When you turn back he’s on the floor, picking loose threads out of your nice living room rug.

“Oi! Stop that!”

“I need to make it tidy,” he states. You groan and with some effort get him back in the chair, pushing him forcefully in the chest when he tries to rise again. This time he stays put.

“Right. I’m going to make you some tea–” you begin, but are cut off when you feel him wrap a hand around your wrist and tug you into his lap.

“Crowley-!”

“Come on, give me a cuddle.”

You feel the heat rushing to your cheeks and realise you’re not fighting his embrace quite as sincerely as you should be. He’s very warm and surprisingly comfortable for a bag of bones. 

“Get your hands off me!” you tell him, but your heart isn’t really in it. He loosens his grip a little but you don’t leave his arms, instead just find a way to get a little bit more comfortable. With a sigh you take off his glasses so you can look him in the eye. His pupils are blown out when you meet his gaze; he’s clearly off his face. 

“Hello, gorgeous,” he says, “you come here often?”

“To my house, Crowley?”

He looks around, as if he’s not quite sure that you’re telling the truth, but you drag his attention back to you with a gentle hand on the chin.

“How did you get laudanum in you, eh?”

“Stopped a girl killing herself.”

“Oh. Did it work?”

“‘Course it worked. I’m a genius, me. A genius!” he trills the last note, flinging his arms wide. You press a finger to his lips to quieten him down. Amazingly he does. He crosses his eyes as he tries to focus on where you’re touching him, and the image is a rather sweet one.

“You can be a good man, you know that, don’t you Crowley?”

Normally he’d chastise you and point out all the things wrong in that sentence, but instead he just buries his face in your hair.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he sighs.

“I won’t, darling. Can I get up now, please?”

“Nooooooo,” is his response, and he grips you tighter. You resign yourself to your fate and settle in. It’s going to be a long night.

The next day he denies his behaviour up and down, but there’s no hiding the fact you woke up that morning in his arms.

-

Taglist: @angiestopit@dazed-soul@smile-eywa@staygoldsquatchling02@underratedboogeyman@specter-soltare@cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided@cool-iguana@this--is--music @ilyatan @foolishprincipalitee

[cocogum]

Let’s TALK about episodes 9 and 10 people… (part 1)

PART 2 : HERE

(‼️SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4‼️)

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If you thought episodes 7 and 8 had so much to talk about (cuz I sure did), then episodes 9 and 10 destroyed my mind.

….

I am so tired.

We begin with a small recap of what happened last episode and it’s honestly very nice and heartwarming of Ankama to remind us that Yugo will get his ass handed to him in a few minutes.

BRO LOOK AT HOW THEY’RE DRAGGING HIM ON THE DIRTY FLOOR LIKE THAT!!

The level of disrespect these thirsty hoes have for him is immeasurable. Even if Yugo’s not a kid, the fact that the necromes didn’t hesitate to tie him up like that and sacrifice him like a lamb is jaw-dropping. It really makes you understand that they don’t give a shit if you’re an actual kid, they will hang you up like a roast beef for dinner.

Bro’s asking as if he just got here.

Also, how do you think that fall must’ve felt like? Cuz when Toross yeets him, Yugo takes a massive fall only to get his body slammed into the pavement when he gets tied up.

He gets to fall even faster because of the stasis ropes pulling him down too.

You can even hear the loud slam when he hits it. That must’ve hurt like a bitch.

Btw I love how even after all that, Adamaï and Amalia still don’t trust Qilby even when he saved them from the necrome world.

Adamaï thinks he was an idiot for not using the eliatrope Dofus and…he’s right? Cuz my guy…ur scared of ruining things if you use the dofus but what are you gonna ruin in a place WHERE THERE’S NO WAKFU????

Sometimes I can’t tell whether or not that guy’s okay in his head. Like is he blind or something? You can clearly tell that the necrome world is completely deserted and has no actual life, Amalia even CONFIRMS IT for you, Toross is literally using his dofus in his world of nothing, AND it’s also literally known as the gods’ garbage bin.

No wonder you get slapped around so much, you’re stupider than Yugo!!

I never in my life thought that I’d eventually get to see Qilby booping Amalia’s nose.

And I don’t know if I should like it or if I should fear it.

Man literally booped her as if she was a kid. But then again, he IS a millennial years old so it would explain why he’d treat her like a fetus.

In a way, he really CAN see her as a kid who doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about.

But like-

I never imagined this happening???? Not even in a trillion chances 😀😀

BUT WHAT CONFUSES ME EVEN MORE IS THIS :

I get that Amalia annoyed him when she said he STILL couldn’t be trusted but what do you mean by “artificial”??? I’m still confused about that.

MY QUEEN NORA AND HER GAY ASS IS BACK WITH HER SHENANIGANS GURL WE SEE U !!

You can’t tell me this scene ain’t gay 😭😭

The way she grabbed her was so sudden, it made my heart jump!! And Amalia just goes with it like a damsel in distress being protected by her knight 🥰🥰 My noramalia senses detected that shit from a mile away, you ain’t getting away!!!

That torture scene tho should’ve taken longer ngl. But Okoo being the kid that they are decided “hell nah”. It’s still a shame really but at least we got what we needed.

Also, lemme just say something about this torture scene real quick.

Not only does Yugo get sucked the living out of him, but he just got BODY SLAMMED FROM AT LEAST 290 FEET on LITERAL PAVEMENT so now his back is completely obliterated, he keeps CONVULSING, TWITCHING, and GETS HIS BONES BREAKING TO GROW LONGER ONES-

He’s feeling all that WHILE getting sucked to death. My god. I wanted to see more of that.

The only reason why he didn’t turn out ballistic was cuz Oropo was keeping him busy in his head. He literally told him that he’ll make him fight just to not think about it.

And even though Oropo does hate him (but calmed down a bit once he reunited with Yugo), he told him that even he doesn’t deserve all of this. Can you imagine the one who caused so many calamities and was ready to kill the gods because he hates you telling you that even you don’t deserve this?? It just shows how kinky this Toross guy is.

[svt-nari]

times the e word was mentioned near nari (enlistment

a compilation of people mentioning jeongcheol’s upcoming en******** and nari not taking it well…

in the soop ver. season 2

nari was sitting on the couch, her airpods on while she listened to a true crimes podcast. she was concentrated, her eyes fixed on the ceiling while she nodded to some of the words spoken through her earphones. she was alone for the most part, though, when the podcast was coming to an end, vernon appeared to sit down near her.

“what are you doing?”, he asked her while throwing himself on the space by her side. she looked at him and grinned, lighting up her phone screen so he could see it. vernon nodded, closing his eyes and just enjoying the moment.

when it finally ended, nari’s hand went to the younger man’s hair, playing with the strands while hansol opened his eyes to look at her.

“do you want to talk? you look serious.”, nari pointed out, fingers massaging his scalp. vernon sighed and sat up, nari doing the same when she saw his expression. “hey, nonie-ah, what’s wrong?”

“i’ve just been thinking about the future…”, he looked at her. “you know… coups and jeonghan hyung having to enlist and all… like, how are we going to be. it’s not gonna be the same without them. you get it, right?”

when he got no response, vernon got concerned. nari’s head was tilted down, she was playing with her fingers while biting her lower lip. when she looked up he could see her eyes filled with tears that she was holding back from spilling.

“i hate thinking about it…”, she sniffled, taking a deep breath in. “like… two years is a long time, just thinking about not always being with them after a decade is so weird. i hate it.”, and then the waterfalls started. tear after tear rolled down her cheeks.

vernon panicked; he just said his thoughts, nothing too serious. nari herself had asked him what he was thinking and he was upset with the thought, she was trying to comfort him. though, now, it looks like she’s the one in need of comfort.

“hey, noona.”, hansol held her hand, making her look at him and wipe her tears away, sniffling. “we are going to be okay, trust me. they will be okay and you two will also be okay, trust me.”

weverse live

during one of nari’s date nights with the fans — in which she does a live while having dinner, all dressed up with some candles lit up around the room — someone decided to talk about seventeen’s future in the comments. needless to say: a big mistake – especially with nari.

‘i’m so scared of next year… coups enlisting and everything… how do you feel about it?’, that, a question as simple as that made the woman stop to think about every single one of her life choices.

“oh… i don’t know what to say…”, she pouted, her forehead wrinkling due to her eyes getting watery, nari took a deep breath, her mind far away as she thought about their enlistment. “it’s- it’s a difficult topic to talk about…”, she breathed out, closing her eyes quickly to not cry in front of the cameras. “i don’t want to talk about it until it happens.”, she concluded, eyes and mind drifted far away from the phone she was using.

backstage of music bank

seventeen was joking around in their dressing room at music bank. nari’s head rested peacefully against chan’s shoulder as he played on his phone, chuckling occasionally from listening to the older members’ conversation.

out of nowhere he laughed out loud, throwing his head back while thrusting his phone on nari’s face so she could see what made him laugh like that. when she looked, her smile dropped instantly, a frown and pout appearing instead.

“ya! what is this? why would you do this?”, she whined, putting the phone back on his lap and laying her head on the armrest, her headphones tight on her head. nari hid her head against the back of the couch, her back facing the other members.

everyone looked at dino worryingly, trying to get him to say what he did wrong. the boy could only shake his head, just showing them the image he had edited — a bald seungcheol. they all had frowns on their faces, except the boyfriend himself. he just sighed, getting up and throwing her on his shoulder, getting out of the room so they could talk more privately, the others chuckling as they saw nari’s upside down confused face.

“baby.”, cheol started, his hands holding hers tightly. they were in a deserted hallway near the bathroom, a quiet place so they could talk peacefully. “you know you can visit me, right?”, he caressed the back of her hands with his thumbs, holding eye contact with the girl.

she pouted, clearly upset with the thought. “i know that, but it’s not the same…”, nari sniffled. “we aren’t going to sleep in the same bed, i won’t be able to get your hugs and kisses any time i want them, i won’t be able to talk to you whenever i want and most of all; i know i’ll miss you a lot. it’s been more than ten years already, you’ve been in my life for almost half of it — i can’t imagine being without you.”, as she finished, the hwang girl buried her face on the older boy’s neck, his collarbone getting slightly damp due to her tears.

from then on, seungcheol promised himself to try his hardest to be able to talk to her everyday when he has to go to army and reserve a special time just for her — and, most importantly; never talk about it if it’s not necessary.

knowing bros

for the first time ever, nari went to a variety show completely alone. she was promoting her first solo album and, to bring more attention to it, why wouldn’t she go to one of the most famous variety shows amongst the industry?

as she was doing the ‘guess about me’ segment, one of the things she asked was ‘what i hate the most?’ and, from then on, it was just pure chaos.

some of the members yelled silly things like ‘breaking your nail’, or ‘sleeping with the warm side of the pillow’ going as far as saying ‘having to poop after a shower’ — which made nari go feral with laughter. tho, amongst all the silly things they were saying, someone (cough, kyunghoon, cough) decided to say a serious thing, which dropped the whole mood.

“being away from the loved ones!”, he exclaimed with a smiley face. nari’s smile lessened and she nodded, adding a ‘i also hate it, like a lot. but it’s not the right answer’ and that just made them curious. so, heechul decided to ask her about it.

“have you ever been away from a loved one besides moving out from your parents’ house?”, an innocent but deep question.

“no, but i’ll be in not too long.”, she said, looking over the papers in her hand to not maintain eye contact. “two of my members, my family, are going to enlist next year…”, she sighed. “i can’t imagine being without them, they have been my best friends since forever. it’s weird to even think about it.”, she pouted.

they all nodded in understanding and decided to change the topic to a lighter one, so the girl could cheer up and not think about it – which happened and in less than three minutes nari’s face was back to red due to her laughing.

nothing much prepared ep. 20

as nari drank more and more with youngji, her thoughts also started to get more and more depressive. nari turned into a drunk hoshi whenever she drank, she would get emotional and cry over the littlest thing in the world.

when youngji gave her a paper to draw on, she started to cry. youngji got so startled that she started to murmur and even hugged the older girl when she asked for it, patting her hair and looking wide eyed to the camera and the staffs because she had no idea of what to do whatsoever.

nari went as far as hiccups, she wasn’t even able to talk properly due to how much she was crying. youngji then got her a cup of water and a bowl of soup so she could get a bit more sober. when she was finally able to stop crying the sighed, wiping her face dry. the staffs couldn’t help but coo over her beauty even after crying a river.

“i’m so embarrassed right now…”, she murmured to herself.

“you should be,” youngji joked, earning herself a joking glare from nari.

“it’s just… these sad thoughts. my head went to the day cheollie and hannie will have to enlist and it drives me nuts.”, she pouted, swallowing back the tears threatening to escape once again. “i can’t even imagine being one week away from them, then out of nowhere we’ll be- we’ll be-,” then she started crying again. “away for two years!”, and youngji just sighed, hugging her once again to comfort her older friend.

all rights reserved © svt-nari, 2023

[jaemified]

through the window (21 days) - lee chan

“waiting 21 days isnt so bad if itll always end like this.”

pairing ; lee chan x fem!reader

genre ; fluff but pretty cheesy fluff, strangers to lovers, neighbors to lovers, not a smau but twt profiles are showed

warnings ; swearing, floods, isolation, separation, chans flirty (thats a warning in itself), reader has zero relationship experience

wordcount ; 2.7k

synopsis ; after a long series of floods, youre finally able to meet the boy across the street who had caught your eye throughout the long few weeks.

note - chan isnt an idol but minnie/soyeon are

note 2 - idk what chan is looking at in that pic

read below the cut !

DECEMBER 8, 2023

winter, also known as flood season.

the town where you lived in was already at a low altitude, so the bridge built to cross over the river to the other side of the street always had submerged during this time of year.

the thing that sucked the most about all this, was you were pretty much rained in for however long it takes for the water to drain with absolutely no way out.

so naturally, you all had came prepared.

your roommates minnie and soyeon never minded all the rain as they hated going in to work at the crack of dawn, yet you however, loved what you did. tutoring a kids after school program wasnt half as bad as the average person might think.

but, of course seeing as they were all a bunch of middle school kids, they could be a handful. you decided to listen to your friends and use these next few weeks to relax.

or, what you thought relaxing was.

“come on y/n! dont you wanna make strawberry shortcake with us?” minnie yelled at you over soyeons loud music while you studied over the next lesson plan for your kids.

“maybe later- i really wanna get a head start on these lessons.”

“seriously y/n?” soyeon murmured in slight disgust, “i seriously doubt the first thing those kids want to be thinking about is what they’re gonna do with their math tutor after a free half month.”

you shrugged and took a sip of your coffee before typing in the highlighted notes from the handbook into your computer.

“come on. youre not spending our one free break of the year like this again!” soyeon exclaimed as she snatched the book out of your hands, then closing your laptop before putting them both away in the cabinet under the tv.

“you know i can just get that myself right?”

“no, because i won’t let you.” she replied, locking the door and putting the key in her pocket.

“come on! im passionate about what i do, i dont mind it at all!”

“me and minnie are passionate about writing songs too, but even we know when its good enough to take a break.”

“okay i know i don’t work half as hard as idols do but i still have bills to come by! besides, corporate management demands i have the next lesson plan finalized before the end of the week!”

“corporates a bitch, they gotta be more mindful of how they treat their employees. like how do you be top tutoring company in the country and you still cant manage your employees the way they deserve?” minnie shouted in frustration.

“and dont worry about bills for now, we got it.” soyeon whispered to you.

“minnie- you realize cube is the same way to you guys right? and you work way harder then i do despite not getting the income you deserve.”

“yeah but we manage. we have a contract anyway. i know we’re passionate about what we do but we most certainly are not passionate about who we work for.” soyeon replied for minnie as she couldn’t hear over the sound of the blender (why was she using a blender again?)

you sigh soaking in how much pressure your friends are under at work, realizing you don’t even have it half as bad despite having a pretty shitty boss.

“how bout you find someone worth crossing an ocean for? itll be half as fun for us as itd be for you, since it’s in our contract we aren’t allowed to date.” minnie spoke after the whirring of the kitchen appliances died down.

“how.. we are entirely stranded until however long it takes for this stupid flood to drain.”

“do some stalking on insta. let’s find you like uh.. celebrity crush or ulzzang you can fan girl over or something.”

you scoffed in annoyance and slight disgust with your friends knowing you never really cared for any of that.

you decided to sit down at the bay window by the front door, scrolling through your phone before something outside caught your eye.

there you saw a guy across the way, sitting in his bay window just like you, he who seemingly just finished receiving a lecture from his friends.

you watched as he ran a hand through his fluffy dark brown hair, before he turned your way, your eyes locking.

immediately, it was part of your instinct to nervously turn away.

before slowly looking back, that is.

there you found the beautiful brown haired boy, still looking at you, with a golden smile.

your heart melted (but you thought you were having palpitations) when you saw him look at you so fondly.

what is this feeling?

you slowly raise a hand, and wave to him shyly.

he waved back, before forming a heart with his arms he held over his head.

you laughed quiet enough so your friends couldn’t hear you, but your facial expressions were bright enough so he could be aware he was able to make you laugh.

the boy laughed in response before he seemed to mouth something, but you weren’t the best at reading lips.

you tilted your head in confusion before he jokingly rolled his eyes, and saying it again, but slower.

“cu-tie.” you realized he said, or attempted to say.

“cu-tie?” you sounded out, making sure you understood right.

he nodded before pointing at you, his finger tapping against the glass, “cutie.”

he absolutely reveled in the way you smiled so brightly, the way your cheeks flushed pink and your eyes sparkled with excitement.

you didnt even realize how you were falling for his charms.

before you were even able to say anything back, his friend came up from behind him, attempting to drag him away, yet the guy was still persistent.

you watched how his friend started to get angry, so the guy rolled his eyes and stood up, walking away with his friend down the hall.

but not before waving back at you, blowing a kiss.

you got up from your seat before wrapping your arms around minnie, resting your head on her shoulder while you spared a small glance at whatever soyeon was watching in the living room.

“hmm? what do you need now my child?” she dramatically questioned, as she knew you only got clingy when you needed something.

“whos that guy that lives across the.. on the other side of the bridge? in that dark brown house with the black roof?”

“oh? house 133 right? thats seokmin, minghao, and.. what’s the other ones name? I always forget.. chan! yeah, chan.”

soyeon jumped up in surprise, pausing her show after hearing you pique your interest at a guy for the first time.

“why? you like one of them? which one? minghao? he was pretty well liked for a foreigner. he was in the same exchange program as minnie. ” she excitedly asked.

“w-what? no! i was just asking cause i saw one of them out there earlier.” you unconvincingly lied.

“oh she totally likes minghao.” “not even!”

“sweetheart, we aren’t as dumb as you think we are.” minnie pouted at you while she pulled away to put the cake in the oven.

you huffed in disbelief before going to take a bag of chips from the pantry, walking down to your room to finish the lesson plan. (on the laptop your boss lent you since soyeon took your personal one).

meanwhile, there you left chan, day dreaming about you all day long. he was so curious about you, yet he felt so stupid for crushing on some girl he’d never spoken to before.

not like he even could at this point, you were stuck in the middle of a flood, anyway.

“whats on your mind channie? you seem out of it.” seokmin asked while he blindly stirred the tteokbokki, turning to face the younger boy behind him, sitting at the kitchen island.

“its chan. whens he not out of it?” minghao chuckled, throwing a chip at his cheek, sliding to sit over at the stool next to him as he emerged from his bedroom.

“who lives in that white house on the other side of the bridge? isnt that where soyeon lives? we went to high school together.” chan half-mindedly queried, zoning out as he stared into the marble counters.

“yeah, why?” minghao responded.

“did she move out or something? there was another girl there and it wasnt soyeon or minnie.”

“oh, you mean y/n? she graduated a year before you or something, but at another school. we used to work at the same tea house before she left for that tutoring agency.”

“y/n? sounds vaguely familiar. i think i remember seungkwan mention her being in his class.”

“why are you mentioning her all of a sudden? you never cared for girls.” seokmin teased with a wide smile.

“oh come on. you know he’s quite the flirt.” minghao playfully cooed at chan, dramatically waving his hand back at seokmin.

“you two are insufferable.” he groaned, banging his head against the counter.

you found yourself up at night, scrolling through twitter before you decided to search for the guy you ‘met’ today. minghao, was it?

‘xu minghao’ was what you had entered into the search bar, clicking on the top result.

‘myunghoez’

‘huh.’ you thought to yourself. so it couldnt be him, but seokmin didnt seem to have an account as you searched for his name.

you looked up chans name next, thinking maybe,, that there could be a chance it’s him. his profile picture was technically him, but not, him. but in your defense, how could you tell who was who if chans profile picture was a baby picture?

though you knew youd never hear the end of it from her, you decided to ask soyeon.

“do you have a picture of chan?”

“yeah hold on. its just an old screenshot from an old tweet though.” she mumbled before pulling up her phone to show you.

‘wow.’ you thought to yourself, ‘so this really was the guy i met today.’

before soyeon could ask any questions, you quickly thanked her and ran back to your room before posting a small something in reference to what minnie had said to you earlier.

days, weeks, went by of you and chan interacting through the window despite never seeing each other up close, or ever hearing the others voice.

but despite being isolated from separately, you still had fallen for one another nonetheless.

you loved the way you would feel butterflies in your stomach whenever he made a heart with his hands for you, and he absolutely adored the way you in the end would just make a big sign telling him what you wanted to say when you gave up on trying to get him to read your lips.

of course the flood had its downside, i mean being stuck with the same 2 other people for almost a month definitely takes a toll on you, isolation definitely can get depressing with no way out.

but in the end, it had its upside as well. you were able to meet a great guy despite never technically talking face to face, having only lip reading to communicate (why didn’t you think of social media?). not to mention you were able to put more time into a forgotten passion after all of your energy being used up as a tutor.

marine animals.

you and chan had technically discussed the idea of possibly having a first date when you get out of here, yet you still hadn’t decided where you’d go or what you’d do seeing as you both were pretty passionate about different things.

chan had always loved the stars, you had always loved marine life. but, you decided you would finalize a date night once you both get to meet face to face.

DECEMBER 29

after a long 21 days of disappointment, spending christmas without your family, 3 going on 4 weeks of crazed loneliness, you finally woke up one morning to find the overflowing river, drained, and to its regular level.

you were able to see the bridge once more and though the wood might be rotting, you just couldnt wait to cross it.

you immediately ran down the hall, dressing however best you could, fixing your hair to be as best as it would go, being sure to brush your teeth and pop in a mint before running straight out the door. (and ignoring all of soyeons questions as well as minnies protests)

as you stepped out the front door, you saw chan just leaving his house looking as beautiful as ever.

you ran straight for the bridge, chan catching you before you could slip on a puddle before he picked you up into a big hug.

“you’re just as gorgeous up close as you were through a window.” he whispered as he pulled you close, his hand cradling the back of your head, pulling it to rest against his chest.

“and you’re still just as much of a flirt arent you?” you chuckled before slightly cringing at your attempt to reciprocate the excitement.

you were excited, believe me, just couldn’t express it as well as he could.

“i cant believe it took 21 days to finally be with you.”

“it was worth the wait wasnt it?”

“you’ll always be worth the wait.” chan mumbled against your skin as he pressed a soft kiss into your cheek.

“cant believe you’re real..” you mumbled, leaning further into his touch.

“cant believe i got someone like you to fall for someone like me.”

“chan you’re so cheesy.”

“only for you.” he replied with that stupid grin you grew to love so much.

the two of you later took the time to talk more about life, each other, finally exchange numbers, then eventually decide what you’d do for your first date night.

“see you tomorrow at 12?”

“tomorrow at 12.”

DECEMBER 30

you practically couldn’t sleep as you bubbled in excitement. you picked out a pretty black dress that went nicely with a random pair of white sneakers before heading out on your way while your roommates were out at work.

“lookin as pretty as always.” chan smiled while he opened his car door for you.

“still as handsome as ever arent you?” you jokingly rolled your eyes as he backed out the parking lot.

you two had many common interests, yet what you were most passionate about definitely was pretty parallel to one another.

chan loved the stars, you loved the sea. so, you decided to go to an aquarium (that also included solar system exhibits), grab some food from a cafe you found out you both loved, go for a late drive to the beach, watch the sunset, then stargaze.

call it cliche but it was perfect for you both.

chan wrapped an arm around you as you both stared into the night sky, all the stars displayed beautifully.

he would point at a random star and say it reminded him of you, because it stood out from the rest, distinct, but perfect in his eyes.

he was the sweetest guy ever, perfectly fitting the standard for what’s considered boyfriend material, almost unrealistic, even.

“youre a person worth crossing an ocean for.” you told him more then truthfully, bringing a hand up to softly stroke his cheek.

“out of all the stars in the sky, youre the only one id pick.” he cringed realizing how corny it was. “too cheesy?”

“just enough.” you reassured, before sealing both yours and his lips into a warm and comforting kiss. chan had never felt safer in another’s embrace.

“waiting 21 days isnt so bad if itll always end like this.”

[juyeonszn]

AND THEN THERE IS YOU

PAIRING ju haknyeon x f!reader (gn technically since there are no gendered terms)

WORD COUNT 1.17k

GENRES fluff ﹒very slight angst like blink and u miss it

WARNINGS another fic of mine that doesn’t require an 18+ warning… fawn in her tamed era 🙏, ur heart will ache from how </3 this is, mentions of divorce, reader had kind of a shitty childhood, reader also has some intimacy issues, hak is the most patient and kind person ever, throws up everywhere bc me when </3

SUMMARY he was content loving you until you were ready to love him.

MORE ANDDDDD my insanity strikes again!!!!1!1!1! aka in my dr. seuss william shakespeare edgar allan poe steven king arc 😍 my inspiration has been crazy lately, so enjoy this before juyeonszn goes into a drought deeper into the semester 😭 ANYWAYS MAE (@maessseongs) HERE U GO!! i kept it fluffier and kinda short bc it just felt right, i hope that’s okay with u! this is the last request from my 100 followers event so far ✨ prompts used are: 2, 7 >:)

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs

Relationships were a weird concept to you. Growing up, you’d never really been shown affection. Your parents weren’t the type to pack your lunch for school in the morning and send you off with a peck on the cheek followed by an ‘I Love You’.

In fact, they never told you that they loved you very often. Maybe a handful of times in your whole life did you hear those three words uttered from them. And even less did you hear that they were proud of you. It was worse when you took a step back and watched their own crumbling marriage.

As long as they’d been together, you never heard them tell the other how much they were appreciated. They fought more than they got along. You usually fell asleep to the sound of doors slamming and loud arguing in the hallway. When they finally decided to get a divorce, you almost cried out of joy. They were draining more out of you than each other.

So, perhaps that had to do with your fucked up view of relationships as you became an adult. You could never fully comprehend what love was since you didn’t exactly have stellar role models. Boyfriends came and went, losing interest as soon as they realized how disconnected you were. Your heart was never truly in it.

And then, you met Haknyeon.

Sweet sweet Haknyeon, who only cared about your happiness and your well being. Haknyeon, who didn’t ask you for more than you could give. Who didn’t push you for answers when you shut him out. Who patiently waited on the sidelines while you rebooted yourself.

If there were a higher being out in the universe, they’d done an excellent job at putting all the best qualities into Ju Haknyeon. By some miracle or a stroke of luck, he found his way to you. You’ll always think that he deserves better than you, but you’ll also always be eternally grateful that you have him.

As summer takes its last breath and the air begins to chill, leaves wilting to the streets and crunching below the feet of passersby, your motivation to get up in the mornings has started its tumultuous decline. You don’t know what it is about the change in seasons that continues to put a damper in your mood as the years go on, but it’s become almost too much to bear. It was no longer a dull pressure in the pit of your stomach and the back of your mind. Now it was a heaviness that settled in your heart and weighed you down.

It was a Thursday evening and you were tucked into bed already, despite a peek of the sun still visible over the horizon. Your head was pounding despite the room being silent. You curl into yourself further just as your bedroom door creaks open. Haknyeon whispers an apology, going to exit the room when he sees the state you’re in.

It was standard for him to leave you alone until you were ready to talk. He knew you had a hard time opening up, considering what you’d grown up with, and he didn’t want to be the person who pestered you to tell him what was wrong. He wanted you to feel comfortable coming to him first. Haknyeon couldn’t handle being the reason you were pushed to your breaking point.

But for some reason, this time is different. You don’t want to be left alone. You want to be held. You want him to kiss your forehead and tell you he loves you, unlike what you had when you were younger.

“Hak, wait,” you call, voice slightly hoarse. “Stay. Please.”

He’s taken aback by your request, but doesn’t hesitate to follow through. He climbs into the bed behind you, wrapping his arms around your center. In spite of the fact that this wasn’t a usual occurrence, that cuddling was something you’ve only done a couple other times, he embraces you as if this was second nature for him. As if holding you in his arms was his very life source.

“Are you sure?” He asks softly, words spoken gently into your hair.

“Mhm, I want this,” you nod, nuzzling into his arm. “I have never felt this safe with anyone before.”

Haknyeon’s breathing stutters. You’ve never admitted this to him before, you’ve never ever said ‘I Love You’, but he’s always been willing to wait. He understood that this was a new territory for you. He was content loving you until you were ready to love him, even if it took months— even if it took years. That’s how much he cared for you. In his eyes, you were the reason there were stars in the sky. You were the reason why the sun rose in the morning and why the moon shone at night.

He kisses your temple. “I’ll be here to protect you.”

You turn in his arms to get a good look at his face. Because it was so rare that you were this close, you wanted to memorize his features from this distance. You trace his cheekbones and jawline with your thumb, eyes flickering down to his lips.

You lean forward, minimizing the gap between you to press your lips into a sweet kiss, almost as sweet as him. Haknyeon gasps out of surprise, but quickly reciprocates your affection, bringing up a hand to cup your face. He allows you to set the pace, to move at a speed you were comfortable with in case this was all you wanted.

When you pull back to catch your breath, he smiles, taking in how pretty you were. He could never get enough of you. He thinks that was his biggest flaw, being so greedy when it came to you. He couldn’t help but indulge himself every time you let him, though if it were a sin, he’d gladly commit it over and over again.

“However many years we have left, I wanna spend them all with you.”

You feel the tears dripping down your cheeks before you register that you’re crying. You couldn’t possibly fathom how Haknyeon came to find love in the form of you; the hollow shell of a person who’s never felt the warmth of another human in their life. You didn’t think you deserved someone like him. The only logical explanation was that you were a saint in a past life, and the higher being you mentioned earlier was rewarding you for it.

But even so, he loved you. Enough that he wasn’t afraid to spend the rest of his life with you waking up on the other side of the bed.

He swipes away some stray tears with the pad of his thumb and kisses your nose. You let out a small laugh, connecting your lips once more. It conveys all you want to say, but you know saying it out loud will make it concrete. It’ll solidify what you’ve been building up the courage to finally tell him.

“I wanna spend them all with you, too.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[dakotalun]

Want Part 2 | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: PART 2-- Eddie hangs out with someone and you confront him about it. Eddie shows up again with a surprise.

warnings: oral (f. receiving), praise kink, pet names (good boy, baby, ma'am, babe), sub!eddie, fingering, swearing

word count: 2.9k

a/n: been a whole month...whoopsies. But I am coming back with a nice and long fic for y'all. I also have a few things in the works that will be multi parted. I hope y'all enjoy and have an amazing day!! :)

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

Eddie's been gone for what feels like hours, I’m completely broken and hurt while he's probably off with Chrissy again. Out of all the things I could've done today, I chose to ruin my relationship. I slowly raise to my feet but upon seeing the plate that Eddie had haphazardly thrown to the counter I start to feel sick. I rush to the bathroom and throw up.

Hours pass by. I'm sitting on the cold bathroom floor, refusing to move. I've thrown up twice since Eddie left me, once when I realized what he had been doing for most of the day and again after throwing up everything that was in my stomach. He still hasn't called or texted me. I really fucked this up. And I have no clue how I'm going to fix it.

My stomach tightens again as I feel another wave of vomit come up. And that's how I spend the night, laying on the bathroom floor occasionally barfing as I cry over Eddie. I can't believe I've made such a big mistake.

I wake up the next morning feeling drained and exhausted. The events from last night are still fresh in my mind and I can't seem to get myself out of bed. I turn over, a sliver of hope that Eddie came home last night. But all I find is the empty, cold space where he should be. I grab my phone from the nightstand and check for any messages, nothing. A sigh leaves my mouth as I come to the full conclusion that I should maybe leave for a while, this was Eddie's trailer first after all.

I peel myself out of the sheets and trudge to the bathroom. Getting back I search the messy closet we share for my duffel bag, finding it under a mess of dirty clothes and an old amp Eddie keeps saying he'll throw out. I pick out some comfortable jeans and a few t-shirts, stuffing them into the bag and slipping my feet into a pair of sneakers.

After grabbing my phone charger and headphones I grab the keys from the counter and walk outside. A cold gust of wind blows in my face as the seasons change from summer to fall. I plug my headphones in but just as I'm about to put them on I hear a loud boom of music coming from the street entrance of the trailer park.

I look up to see none other than Eddie driving his van, music blasting and flowing through the open windows. He's driving with little regard for anything around him, nearly hitting the neighbor's fence before parking. He shuts the van off and hops out, stumbling slightly. Yeah he's clearly drunk, or at least he was at some point since I last saw him. His face is red and slightly swollen, stains line his face from tears.

He finally looks up to see me standing on the porch of the trailer, staring at him a broken look in my eye still. He slowly and hesitently steps towards me.

"Hey," Eddie reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, a nervous tic.

"Hi."

The two of us stand there for a few seconds just looking at each other taking in the events of last night. I'm the first to talk.

"I'm gonna stay with Rob for a few days, just so we can kinda, you know," I don't finish the sentence, too scared to make this a reality.

"Don’t. Please," His eyes are softer now, no anger or resentment behind them. Just pure love and adoration, "I need you here. Please stay."

"Eddie," I look down at my feet, now finding the slowly rotting floor boards more interesting, "Look, I wish I could stay with you. I really do, but after last night. After what you said, what I said. I just don't think it's a good idea."

I don't notice how his face drops, a small frown taking place on his lips. He takes a few more steps closer to me, now at the bottom of the porch.

"Please. I don't want to lose you too. Not after all this time. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me." His words break my heart all over again, "You coming into my life was the besy thing to ever happen to me. I wouldn't have ever had the courage to really try and finish high school without you." 

He speaks he walks up the steps, getting closer to me, enough to finally smell the alcohol on him, "If I could go back in time and not hang out with Chrissy I would, in an instant. But I can't," He's finally reached me. He brings his hands out to hold mine, I look at him. Really look at him for the first time since yesterday. I can see how much he means this, and how much he wants me to say I'll stay.

"I don't know if I can trust you anymore Eddie. You lied to me about where you were, and what you were doing. You're still selling even after I told you not to," I scan his face, trying to find something, anything, "And then there's Chrissy-"

"There's nothing going on between me and her, I promise! I really was just catching up with an old friend."

"Then why did you leave?" There it was. The question at the top of my mind ever since he walked out that door, why. If she was just an "old friend" then he shouldn't have felt the need to leave me. To let me cry until I was physically ill.

I pull my hands away from his, missing the warmth of them. I start to head towards my car, needing to be out of here, out of his space, away.

"Wait, please," He turns with me, following, "Babe, I love you with everything I have, and ever will have. You are the only person on this planet for me. You're the only person I can open up to. The only one I can be myself around, I need you."

He's saying all the right things except for one, the one I really need to hear from him. I stop and harshly turn to him, "I know Eddie! I know you love me and need me and all that bullshit but that's not what I asked you! I asked if you want me? If I will be enough for you, if I'm just another girl for you to fuck and pretend to love before you throw me off to the side like trash? So, do. you. want. me?"

My hands are shaking, both from the cold and my anger. I wait for him to answer, wishing he would just say yes so we can go back to normal or no so I can move on and get away from him.

"I- OF COURSE! I want you more than anything!" He runs up to me, placing his hands on my cheeks, shielding them from the cold. "Could you come with me?"

"What?" I’m confused by the sudden change in questions. Where could he possibly want me to go right now?

"Just come with me? I need to- I want to show you something, please," He's begging. Eddie Munson has never begged for anything in his life and yet here he is, practically on his hands and knees for me.

"Fine," I sigh.

His eyes light up, hands falling from my face to interlock with mine. He pulls me to his van, opening the door like he always does. Forever a gentleman. He all but sprints to the driver's side before quickly starting the old van and driving out of the lot he just came into.

We drive to the other side of town, where all the rich kids live. We trun the corner and Eddie looks over to me.

"Close your eyes."

"Huh?"

"Close your eyes. It's a surprise," A grin has spread across his face, crinkling the sides of his eyes.

I groan lightly before shutting my eyes, wondering what the hell Eddie is up to now. Not long after, we are parking and Eddie's grabbing my hand to lead me wherever we are at.

I giggle a little as he all but pushes me through a doorway, "Eds what are you doing? Where the fuck are we?"

"You'll see, just keep those pretty little eyes closed alright?" He walks me a few more steps before postioning me in place, "Alright, open."

I open my eyes and am momentarily blinded my the bright florescent overheads before noticing we are standing in front of a door.

"Eddie. What the hell is this?" I turn to look at him, his signature shit eating grin plastered on. He holds up his keys, searches for the right one then opens the door in front of us. He leads me inside, looking at my every facial movement.

"This," He gestures to the large empty living room, "is our new apartment. That is if you're not still mad at me?" His face is soft and sweet, waiting for my answer.

"Eddie this is- how did you? I don't understand," I shake my head slightly trying to understand what's going on here, "What do you mean this is our apartment?"

Eddie stands in front of me blocking my view. He reaches for my hands and holds them in his, taking away some of the anxiety I have right now.

"I've been working extra hours at the auto shop down on Main, and selling a little bit too," My face drops, "I know you told me to stop! But I saw this place a while ago, when Wayne was house hunting. And I just knew it was perfect for us."

He squeezes my hands, pulling me to the large windows on the other side of the room, it overlooks Main Street and all the little shops he knows I love, "Every dollar I’ve earned this past year has gone into a down payment on this place. It took a lot of haggling with Ted on my wages but I finally had enough. Then we had our fight last night," He looks down, ashamed at himself for what happened, "When you asked if I wanted you I don't know what happened but I just knew that now was the time to finally pay for it. So I raced down here and payed the guy, because I want nothing more than to have you in my life forever."

As he's talking, I realize I'm crying, I can't help it, I feel so much joy and pain all at once. Eddie's hands grip tighter, keeping me from falling to the floor, "If you don't want this just tell me, give me the word and I won't bother you again," He places his finger below my chin to make me look at him, his eyes are rimmed with tears just like mine are, "But before you do just let me tell you what I did last night was stupid and I promise I will never do that again. I love you with everything I have and I always will. But if I hurt you too much just tell me and I'll back off."

I can't think straight when he looks at me like that, his big brown doe eyes staring at me with all the love a person could ever hold. I look around the apartment one last time, out the big window to our right, and finally back at Eddie.

"Alright."

"What? Alright? Like you'll live here with me?!" His smile has returned, eyes finally letting the tears fall.

"Yes, Eddie. I'll move in here with you," He picks me up off my feet in a giant bear hug, spinning us in place as he yells in excitement, "On one condition."

He puts me down, hands still around my waist, not letting me move any further away, "Anything. Just name it."

"No more selling. You focus on school and I'll focus on the bills."

"Baby I can't-"

"This won't be for forever Eds. Just until you graduate then we can both pay the bills, just please promise me that?"

"Yes ma'am." He smiles and pulls me into a searing kiss. One that feels like we haven't kissed in years, and won't ever get the chance again. The kiss makes me weak in the knees and I can feel the wetness growing in my pants.

Eddie groans into the kiss before pulling away, "I gotta stop kissing you or else we'll be ruining this place before we even move in."

"And what's so bad about that? It seems like it needs a good cristining don't you?"

"Babe," Eddie's eyes grow wide and look to the side of us, where the floor length windows stand, uncovered, "We can't. What if people see us?"

I walk over to the window and look out onto the street. It's a quiet day, only a few people walking around. "So what? They'd all get to know that you're mine and I'm yours. Forever."

I can feel Eddie's chest on my back as he presses against me, his boner growing slowly, "My naughty girl," His hands go to my hips but before they can travel anywhere I turn around and pin them to his sides.

"That's ma'am to you. Got it?" I don't know where this confidence came from but I’m enjoying it. And so is Eddie, he nods his head vigirously, "Sorry I can't hear you."

"Yes ma'am."

"That's my god boy," Eddie's eyes close at the nickname, his body shivering, "You like that don't you? You like being called my good boy?"

"Mhmm. Yes ma'am."

I stand on my tiptoes to reach Eddie's ear and whisper, "Then get on your knees and show me just how good of a boy you are."

Before I can even blink Eddie is on his knees in front of me, unbuckling my jeans and pulling them down to my ankles. The sight of the wet patch on my panties has me in pieces, slowly losing all composure.

He looks up to me as he hooks his fingers into the waistline of my underwear, "May I?" I nod and he pulls them down, the slick from me making them stick to my folds. He groans and starts kissing up my thighs, towards the place I need him most. His kisses are featherlight, slowly making me dizzy, I wish he would go faster.

"Eddie," I sigh as he finally plants a kiss to my clit, so soft it's almost missed. Once he gets a taste of me he dives right in, licking a stripe up my folds to collect the juices. He moans at the taste, licking me like a dog starved.

I unravel above him, my knees becoming weak and numb. The way he eats me out is heavenly and I’ve never wanted a thing to stop less than right now. Moans and sighs are falling past my lips with each lick and suck of Eddie's mouth. I begin to feel that wonderfully familiar knot tightening and begin tightening around Eddie's tongue. He feels it and moves his ministrations up to my clit and shoves two fingers into my entrance.

"Fuck!" I keel over on top of Eddie, one hand braced on his head and the other on his shoulder, "Just like that. I'm so close Ed." Eddie picks up speed and bends his fingers to reach that spongey spot inside with every thrust of his fingers.

"Come on baby. Cum for me, let me taste you. I missed the way you taste so much. Please come for me, please."

His words send me over the edge, white lights blinding me as the string finally snaps and I’m cumming all over Eddie's face and fingers. He doesn't stop his movements, he pulls me through my orgasm, spewing words of affection and love the entire time. Once he notices that I’m starting to slow down he releases his mouth from me and removes his fingers, eliciting a whine from my lips.

"Thank you, thank you so much," Eddie slowly stands, holding me as my leg strength still haven't come back.

"That's my good boy," I pull him in for a kiss, tasting myself on him. He pushes into me making his erection rub against my exposed thigh. His eyes squeeze shut at the feeling.

"Can I fuck you now?" His eyes are pleading and full of lust.

"Take me home first, Eddie," I look into his eyes and feel nothing but love for this man. The way he treats me with so must love and attention makes me want ot hold on nad never let go, no matter what happens to us.

"We are home sweetheart. This is home now."

"I know. I just love the sound of it," I pull Eddie in for another kiss, this one sweet and gentle. Nothing like the ones from before, only love and adderation fills this, as I try to show him how much I feel for him.

I’m so caught up in the kiss that I don't even notice Eddie dip down quickly and place his hands on my thighs, but before I can question he lifts me up. I instinctivly wrap my legs around his hips and circle his neck with my arms.

"Eddie!" I squeal from my upward position.

"What? I wanna take you to the bedroom, it's got a walk-in closet," He smirks at that last little detail before walking down the hall toward the rest of the apartment.

Eddie Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis

[rowdyhughesy]

i saw you were taking requests, so i have one (:

maybe like, jack gets down on one knee and asks y/n to be his fake date for a wedding he has to attend?

Cats and Wedding dates - J.Hughes

Thinking about doing a part 2, let me know what u guys think!

Jack was completely freaking out, with all the stress from the season he had forgotten about one of his family friends wedding. He’s known about it for months but it still slipped his mind and with forgetting about it he also forgot about getting a date.

Pacing back and forth in Nico’s living room he’s running his hands through his hair. “Jack calm down its not life or death if you don’t have a date.” The devils captain laughs from his place on the couch. Watching one of his best friends stressing over a wedding is slightly amusing. He knows that Jack could get a date in two seconds if he wanted to so what’s the problem?

“No but yes! I’ve already told everyone I’m taking a date and if I don’t bring one they’ll all know I forgot about it and then mom will lecture me.” Stopping in his tracks Jack let’s out a noise between a whine and a laugh. He doesn’t even have a suit. Or a present. Fuck.

Scrambling to gather all of his belongings Jack rushes out of the apartment. Yelling about how he needs to go as he runs out. Nico blinks in bewilderment at what just occurred in front of him but decides that he doesn’t even want to know.

Walking down the streets of downtown New Jersey Jack has the suit bag thrown over his shoulder, music blasting in his headphones as he’s in his own world.

Suit? Check

Present? Nope

Date? Absolutely not

Stopping outside of some fancy gift store he ponders for a moment before going inside. Surely they must have something for the couple. The strong smell of vanilla and cinnamon hits his nose and Jack pulls the headphones of in case he needs to ask for help. Which he probably will because he has no idea what to buy.

The store is small but cozy and filled with small unique Knick knacks, candles, porcelain and what looks like some type of fancy candies. It feels like a store his mom would love, he takes a mental note to bring her next time they’re in Jersey.

Suddenly Jack feels a presence by his feet grabbing his attention, looking down he’s met with the sight of a cat that resembles a fluff ball. He’s never been much of a cat person but having those blue eyes staring at him Jack can’t resist squatting down and petting the light fur. The cat lets out a small meow, stroking it’s head against the palm of his hand. “What’s your name huh? Cute lil buddy.” Jacks voice is soft as he continues petting the animal, the cat purring in answer.

“I see that Dude has made a new friend.” The unknown female voice makes Jack freeze in place. Hand still in the air he turns his head. A girl dressed in a white long sleeve, black overalls and converse stands above him. A huge smile on her face as she looks down at the boy and cat. “His name is dude?” Jack laughs turning his attention back to the cat. “Hey there Dude. I don’t really like cats but you seem cool.” The girl let’s out a snort at him telling Dude that he doesn’t like cats.

“Is he yours?” Jack stands up from his previous position, he notices that the girl is about a head shorter than him making him tower over her. “Yep, been my partner in crime the last three years.” She bends down picking up Dude in her arms. He seems content with it as he starts rubbing his face against the exposed skin of her neck.

“How did you come up with the name dude?”

“I tried about 100 names and one day I got frustrated and yelled come on dude at him and it was the only thing he reacted too.” The admission earning a loud laugh from the hockey player.

“I’m Jack by the way.” She takes his outstretched hand and he misses the warmth of her skin as soon as she lets go. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you Jack.”

The two stand there for almost an hour just talking and Y/N helping him find a present for the wedding. It’s easy to talk to the store owner, she’s sarcastic and funny. Like a breath of fresh air after a thunderstorm. Maybe she could be his date? She seems like the type to help a person out and they just met so if she says no he won’t die of embarrassment.

Deciding to take caution to the wind Jack takes a deep breath he goes down on one knee as Y/N has her back to him wrapping the present on the counter. A noise of surprise rises from her throat when she notices this almost stranger down on the floor. “What is going on?” Y/N flicks her gaze between Jack and Dude who is sitting next to the male staring at him with confusion. Or at least as confused as a cat can look.

“This might sound crazy but Y/N will you please be my date to the wedding? I told everyone I would bring a date and I don’t have one, I’ll owe you a favour.” She thinks about it before loudly laughing. Jacks face burns from embarrassment, certain that she’ll reject him. Then a beaming smile spreads across her lips and Jack feels like he can breath again.

“Yeah Jack I’ll gladly be your date to the wedding. Do you have any purple ties?”