#i think my tension might be wrong and im either holding it way too tight or entirely not tight enough

[trashabilly]

yall i spent a good hour tryna figure out how to crochet a chain stitch (i was following a tutorial) and let me just say.. what the fuck

[barsformars]

Tricky

//

g - fluff, slighttttttt angst, suggestive

p - san x reader

w.c - 1.9k

t.w - san touching reader's naked body

c - san takes care of you when you get injured and are left all alone at home. the catch is? both of you obviously have feelings for each other but.....san

a.n - uusjsjjs this was requested through private message! im sorry it took so long lmao uh, this is just 1.9k of plotless words nothing will be solved by the end of the story so its almost like word vomit???

t.l - @closer-stars @jeongyunhoed @fairyofdusk

//

"It's not funny," you snarled at the pink haired boy who seemed to be overly amused at this situation in which both your arms were put in slings. You had slipped over a puddle of water, and that had sent you flying down the small flight of stairs right outside the taekwondo dojang, resulting in two dislocated shoulders. San pressed his lips firmly into a tight line to stop the corners of them from quirking up. On one hand, he does feel really bad, but if he said you didn't look ridiculously hilarious right now, he'd be lying. "I wonder who was on the verge of tears earlier on."

"That's because you were in so much pain I felt so bad for having asked you over for a sparring session!" San defended himself, a small pout forming as he did so. "At least the body and shin guards saved you from breaking your bones."

Once the elevator reached your floor, San pressed on the button to hold them open while keeping a close eye on you as you slowly exited. You've never noticed how much arm or shoulder action happens when you walk, until now.

It was only when you stepped through your front door and noticed your roommate's house slippers still sitting on the bottom of the shoe rack do you remember that they were out on a business trip. Being alone at home right now wasn't an option for you when you couldn't do anything by yourself, but your roommate wouldn't be back till next week. You didn't want to burden any of your other friends so late in the night, you had no choice but to rely on San.

But things...are always a little trickier with him.

"I can only stay for tonight," San sighed as he placed his phone down on the coffee table. You don't know if it was a sigh of relief or one of frustration; he had pleaded over the phone for ten minutes. "But my manager said that they can send someone over to help you out for the next few days."

"It's alright, I'll ask Jimin for help tomorrow. If they aren't available, I'll let you know, yea?" San nods, though rather reluctantly. He trusts that you'll be able to take care of yourself, except physically for now at least.

San holds you by the waist to support you as you got up from the couch, keeping an arm wrapped around it as he brought you to the bathroom. "Please tell me you have a bathtub."

"I insisted on having one, glad it's finally of actual use."

"Oh yeah."

As you soaked in the warm bath that San had ran for you, you couldn't help but think of everything that has been happening between the two of you. The lingering touches, the jokes with double meanings, the way he gazes at you so softly, and the sudden tension that fills up the atmosphere following all those. San hasn't put a title over what this relationship was, and you've been too afraid to take the lead even though you knew that friends don't act like that towards one another. You didn't want to pressure him, he already has a lot on his plate. But he ought to give you an answer soon if he's about to see you in your most vulnerable state, right?

There comes another knock on the door, the tenth one in the whole duration of your bath. "I was being serious when I said don't try to act tough and do everything alone." The knocking continued on non-stop until you replied.

"You're an impatient one, aren't you?" You joked. "I'm done, I need help getting out."

"Not impatient, just worried." You hear his back leave the door for a moment as he stood up from the floor. And as politely as he could be while intruding into your private space, San pushed open the toilet door gently and stepped in after informing you first. You couldn't stop the giggle from escaping your throat when you took sight of him, his eyes shut close in consideration that you might not want him seeing you naked.

"Oh, you're laughing? At me?" San asked in disbelief as he pulled his arms that were searching for the wall back and rested his hands on his hips, a playful smile growing on his face. "Why are you laughing?"

"Because you're cute," you cooed, much to his dismay.

"I'm not cute!" San argued, his eyes now open and glaring at you, still rather adorably. But before you could tease him any further, San practically stomped his way to the bathtub, leaning down to your eye level as his arms gripped onto the sides. "Don't mistake my manners for cuteness, I'm not." He said, almost with a growl, as he reached into the water and wrapped his strong arms around your torso, pulling you up so that you could stand. Taking pride in the way your eyes widened in surprise, San couldn't help but smirk before giving you a quick peck on your forehead. "You're cute."

Once he got you out of the bathtub, San tried his best to not look at your body as he dried you up with a towel while you stood there blankly, still at a complete loss for words. "You're so rude," you told San after finally able to process whatever just happened a minute ago. The boy merely raised his eyebrows, his lips pursed. "Taking advantage of my injuries to show off your strength when you know how I feel about it."

"Well, you're not stupid, you know how I feel about you. It's only normal I act cool a little," San replied nonchalantly but you could tell that he was too afraid to look you in the eye. "Come on, let's go get you dressed."

"Also, just thought that you should know...." San paused for a moment to make sure that you dried your feet properly on the mat before continuing. "I almost patted your bare ass earlier on." You can't even blame him. With how touchy he and his members are, you aren't even surprised that touching people's butt has become their second nature. But even then, he really didn't have to tell you.

"TMI dude."

San had been watching YouTube tutorials on how to put on shirts with a dislocated shoulder while waiting for you to wash up earlier on. You wouldn't have known either if he wasn't showing off all the knowledge that he had learnt less than half an hour ago by trying to convince you quite passionately, and with demonstrations, about why a dress shirt would be much easier to put on than a t-shirt, especially in your case.

"I will. I will wear dress shirts until my shoulders recover," you sighed heavily in defeat. "But just for tonight, can you help me with a t-shirt? I want to sleep comfortably even if it's just for tonight."

This time it was San's turn to sigh as he reached out to pinch your cheek. "I already told you that it will hurt."

"Make it not hurt then." You shook your head so that he would let go.

"Just sleep naked then," San mumbled under his breath but loud enough for you to hear, causing you to scowl at the boy. He catches your expression and sticks his tongue out at you. "Am I wrong?"

"T-shirt," you stated firmly, refusing to comply even when you knew San only had the best intentions for you in mind. You already don't think you could sleep with two injured shoulders, much less with your crush staying the night with you, and definitely even much lesser with an uncomfortable sleeping outfit. "Or I'll bite you." Those words becoming a reality became much more probable when his dimples makes an appearance once again, resembling the dent on a mochi when you press into it with a finger.

"I don't think that's a wise idea right now, maybe next time-" he gave you a gentle boop on the top of your nose with his finger-"now, your majesty, may I help you put on your gold thread shirt made from silk of the finest quality on so that both me and you can be spared from getting ourselves into a tricky situation?" If you could throw a punch at San right now, you would, but all you could do right now was to sit on the bed quietly and accept the teasing. And also whatever San was about to do to help you put on the shirt.

You wonder if it's too late to change your choice of clothing after San kneels down behind you on the bed, his chest and toned abdomen almost plastered onto your back as he reached over your shoulders to grab your forearms. "I need you to put your arms a little closer together, we'll have to try to get both through the sleeves together," he explained clearly and waited for your nod before he moved your arms as cautiously as he could, his eyes studying every twitch of your facial expression to check for discomfort or pain. "Tell me if it hurts okay? Don't act tough, I keep telling you that but please, please don't act tough."

All you could manage was a soft "mhm", your throat feeling too tight for proper words to come out of your mouth. You wonder if San, like how you could feel the warmth of his hands and body, could feel the heat radiating off your cheeks too. "I'm going to pull both sleeves up now, it may hurt a little," San warned, one hand coming up to pat your head affectionately before he gripped onto the sleeves again. Even with how gentle he was being, a wince still manages to escape from you, putting a pause on San's actions as he tilt his head to look at you. "I'm sorry, it will be over soon." You nodded, fully trusting him.

Though there were still a couple more times your shoulders hurt before the sleeves were fully through, the little apology he makes every time that happens comforts you, and also, makes your heart beats embarrassingly fast. Getting your head through the hole was a much easier feat and it didn't take long before your shirt was on.

San got off your bed to fetch his backpack and for a moment you thought that he was going to pull out the painkillers that you were prescribed with but instead, he took out two boxes of shoulder brace. "When did you even get that?" You asked, amused and touched at the same time. The shoulder slings the hospital had put you in was terribly uncomfortable and while the brace may not be way better, it was still better than the sling.

"When you were getting your x-ray done," San replied with a proud smile.

"Aw, I would give you a pat on your head if I could."

Upon hearing that, San practically shoved his pink hair into your face as he bent down. "You can kiss me on my head."

"I will bite you."

[jae-daddy]

Duff (4)

jaebum au series

one / two  / three / four / five /  six / seven / eight masterlist

pairing: im jaebum x reader genre: angst, smut, cheating, CEO! i guess too now plot:  you are the duff, and guys use you to get close to your bestfriend, turns out jaebum was no exception. but as time goes on the tension between you and your bestfriend’s unoffical boyfriend grows  a/n: it so late, I'm literally seeing double rn... hope y’all like it! <3 not edited. 

Life is brimming with lessons that teach you how to live without being naive and a fool. 

You were already taught a few lessons by life, as it made you jump through endless hoops burning with malicious flames waiting to scorch your skin at slightest touch. 

So you found it fair to hold yourself as intelligent and mature. 

Therefore, you trusted your conclusion to ignore whatever happened in the elevator with Im Jaebum. 

What was said, what was done; none of it mattered. 

An important lesson you’ve learnt is people say and do crazy things when they are riding high a shot of adrenaline. 

Jaebum’s near-death experience led him to say things that he would not on a normal day. It was only because he was scared that he did. And everyone wants to die an honest man. You were certain if it were Paul in the elevator instead of you, Jaebum might have confessed something outrageous to him too. 

So that was not the reason why you were staring at the two males in front of you as they spoke absolute nonsense to you. You already knew not to take what happened in that tiny metal box seriously. Instead, it was another life lesson you knew that made you stare at them as if they had grown two heads: everything has a price. 

“Not everyone gets an opportunity like this, y/n,” Paul spoke, a second away from begging on his knees. 

You shook your head in distaste, this was not part of the plan. Actually, there was no plan, but if you had one, this would definitely not be it. This was not how you imagined your lottery internship to turn out. 

“Paul, I am flattered the company believes me to be capable of such an important role,” you breathed, trying to keep a polite smile as your eyes bounced between the bald man and the smirking jerk. “However, I do not think I would be suitable for this role. I made it clear in my internship contract that I will not have my studies affected by this opportunity. Unfortunately, being the secretary of the -”

“I’m sorry to stop you, y/n,” Paul cut you off, not apologetic at all. You bit your cheeks to hold back a sneer. “We have thought about this through, and believe it to be the best plan of action to take right now. Mr Im is new to this company and is temporary, and while we have made a public announcement, he is still on trial.

“We could get someone in a fixed-term confidential contract, but that’s too complicated.”

Your brows furrowed as you disagreed with that, but you didn't say anything. 

“The remaining time left in your contract and Mr Im’s trial period match up perfectly. You already have secretarially role in the company, so you already know the ups and downs, the tricks and tips, so we really believe this is the best way. And about your studies, the summer break began last week. However, if you believe this to be in violation of your contract, we will compensate.”

“Compensate?” You rose an eyebrow, payment would be better than slaving away for free. 

“Pay you, just like any other employee,” Paul smiled happily. Finally seeing some indication of interest from your side. He added, proudly, “with all employee benefits.”

You bit your lip in deep thought. 

You mentally weighed the pros and cons. 

There were pros, so many pros; a better resume, money, free coffee and healthcare, etc. But the con, the big con stared at you in bold, italics, highlighted in large red fonts: you’d be working for Im Jaebum. 

If this was someone else you would have said yes the moment they offered it, even without the benefits. But with Im Jaebum, things got complicated. 

You weren’t sure if he could maintain the professional relationship between the two of you. And if you were being completely honest, you didn’t know if you could maintain it too. 

Even now, with Paul standing at one end of the table, and Jaebum settled on the long side. Your mind couldn’t help thinking about how short your skirt was, and how easy it would be for Jaebum to bend you over the wooden table, and make you a moaning mess. 

It would be quite difficult to maintain professionalism when you’d be spending time alone with him. Or maybe, he would use his position to make you suffer. He might end up not coming to work at all, have you do all his work, and just show up to sign and show his face. 

So much could go wrong with working for Im Jaebum. 

And you also had to consider the fact that you hadn’t talked to him since the elevator incident. 

You haven’t been to Heather’s place, too busy with the piled up assignments all due within the last two weeks. The twenty hours of weekly internship didn’t give you any freed up time either. You didn’t get an opportunity to see Heather, or her boyfriend, Im Jaebum, to have a talk. 

“Oh come on, y/n,” Jaebum smiled at you, making your blood boil instantly. This was the first thing he said to you in the past two weeks and somehow managed to be an arrogant shit-eater when he did. Your glare didn’t make his smile falter as he sang, “It’ll be fun.”

No way. You thought. There is no way you would be able to work for that self-centred, cocky, incredibly hot jerk. 

“We’ll cover your fees.” Paul stopped you before the no on the tip of your tongue tumbled out. You stared at him in shock, as he looked at you expectedly. 

“My university fees?” You asked, shocked.

“Yes, all of it.” He nodded. 

That’s a lot. 

Your eyes fell on Jaebum who smirked at you as if he had the whole entire world at his feet's disposal, and maybe he truly did. He had something similar to that power if the company was willing to go to such extents to make him stay. 

The pros were really starting to outweigh the annoying, irritating con.

“Fine,” you licked your lips, with a sigh. “I’m in.”

Paul almost jumped in his place with excitement, “Thank you, y/n! Thank you so much!”

Paul walked out swiftly muttering something about going to the HR and having a contract formed immediately. Your eyes followed him as he left, remaining on the doors that closed behind him.

You could feel his gaze burning the side of your face, and it truly felt as if you were about to combust. 

“What?” You snarked, turning towards him annoyed. 

Jaebum just snickered as he swirled side to side, carefree, on his chair, “Why are you always so mad, love?” 

You rolled your eyes getting up, “I guess this meeting is over.”

“I didn’t dismiss you, y/n,” Jaebum said, stopping his playful actions. 

“You’re not my boss until I sign that piece of paper, so,” you gave him a middle finger with a tight smile before walking out the office. 

You could hear his light laughter follow you, but you ignored it. 

You stopped in your tracks as you remembered something and entered the room once again. Jaebum looked up at you, surprised, before smiling brightly, “Welcome back.” 

You cursed yourself for returning after such an amazing exit, but there were more pressing matters than your pride. 

“Have you told Heather about what happened?” You closed the door behind you, making sure no one could hear you. 

Jaebum’s eyes danced with amusement, as he shrugged, drawling, “What happened?” 

“In the elevator, Jaebum,” you gritted through your teeth as you stepped closer towards him.

Jaebum’s smiled only grew as he frowned with feigned innocence, “I can’t seem to remember, maybe if you could help me remember.”

His lazy gaze fell to your lips before meeting your eyes again. A spark ignited deep inside you, and you told yourself it was anger; it was an annoyance. 

You clicked your jaw as you smacked your hands onto the desk, leaning over it. Jaebum watched you, carefully, not intimidated a bit, only amused. 

Your eyes narrowed at him, before you smiled sweetly, “You were holding my hand and crying like a child.” 

Jaebum hissed, unaffected, as he tsked, “I can’t seem to remember that.” 

“Did you tell her or not?” You groaned, your annoyance at peak. 

What you would do to this man if you got a chance. He wouldn’t be smiling like that, he’d be begging you for forgiveness, for release. 

Jaebum smirked as if he could read your mind, “No, I didn't.” 

“Good,” you nodded, gulping as his eyes watched you with unsettling darkness. “Don’t.” 

He rose his eyebrow, before nodding, “As you wish, y/n.” 

You turned and felt his gaze watch you as you walked out. You felt it lower, watching your hips as it swayed side to side. Your hand gripped the cool handle as your shoulders sagged slightly. 

You let out a low sigh, “Thanks.” 

You disappeared behind the door before Jaebum could reply. 

“Babe!” Heather sang as her long limbs fell over you loosely. You laughed, as you helped her sit straight. She leaned against you again, snuggling her face into your neck as she hugged you, “I love the way you smell, baby!” 

You chuckled as you patted her red matted hair soiled with glitter and sweat at the back of the Uber, “Thanks Heather, I like how you smell too.” 

“Don’t lie,” you could hear her pout, and it only made you smile. “You always make fun of my feet.” 

“But that’s only after the gym or a hike, Heather,” you told her, as you brushed the hair off her face. 

Heather was completely wasted tonight. 

She was already drunk by the time you walked into the club. Jaebum wasn’t anywhere to be found, and you found her with a group of her “friends” that you didn’t like. 

They would always make her drink too much, give her a little white sugar, and let her waste her platinum card on those low lives. 

You didn’t like the way the guys would touch her as she slumped back onto the couch unable to see straight. You didn’t like the way the girls sitting around would not help her, instead, encourage her to be worse. 

You were mad when you were pulling her away from the crowd and towards the bathroom when you had found Jaebum. He had just got to the club himself but was ready to leave as soon as he saw the state Heather was in. 

He sat on the other side of Heather, holding her purse, as Heather held you from the middle seat. 

Heather mumbled something in return and you couldn’t understand it. 

“By that red letterbox is fine,” you told the Uber driver as he slowed down. 

Jaebum got out first, and you helped Heather onto his back before getting out. You turned to the driver, giving him a small smile, “Thank you.”

“No problem, have a good night,” he said, already accepting a new ride. 

“You too,” you said, as you closed the door. You turned to Jaebum, with Heather hanging her head over his shoulder. Her long ember curls falling down his chest as he grunted and halted her up. 

“Woah, stop,” Heather moaned, heaving. 

Jaebum looked at you with terror in his eyes, and you laughed at him, “Come on, let’s get this party animal into bed.”

“Is this where you live?” Jaebum asked as you led him up the small walk to the door. 

You snorted and shook your head, “No, this is Heather’s home.” 

Jaebum rose his eyebrows, and you continued, as you unlocked the doors, 

“Her parents don’t live in this house anymore, so Heather skips between here and the apartment.” 

You turned the lights on and took in the home that greeted you. 

“They love sure love red, huh?” Jaebum commented, taking in the red couch, red feature wall, and red details spread over the living room and kitchen. 

You laughed at that, agreeing with him. The Blacks sure did take pride in their red-haired heritage, and didn’t hide the fact that it was family’s favourite colour, “Mrs Black was going through an interior design phase.”

“Thank god it was just a phase,” Jaebum snickered, making you turn to him with a pointed look as you tried to hide the smile. 

“She wasn’t too bad,” you replied and began walking towards Heather’s room. 

Jaebum followed behind you, grunting as he adjusted Heather on his back, “No, she was just too red.” 

You rolled your eyes as you opened her bedroom door and walked towards the bed. You pulled down the covers and Jaebum gently set her down. You took off her shoes, and earrings carefully. 

Jaebum didn’t say anything and just watched you as you walked around the room getting out her nightshirt, and face-cleansing products. 

“Why are you looking at me, Jaebum?” You asked, not looking at him. Instead, you pumped out the cleanser on a pad and gently took off the makeup from her face. 

“Is there a problem?” Jaebum asked back, making you snort. 

You gently turned her face and began the other side, “Yes, it’s making me nervous. I can feel you judging me.”

He was probably thinking what everyone else seemed to think when they saw you and Heather. They never saw the whole you both had for each other, how you would do anything for one another. All they saw was Heather in all her brilliance, beauty and wealth, and you, as her second, her side-kick. 

“I’m not judging you,” he replied instantly. 

Something about the way he said it made you believe him. You bit your lip, as folded the dirty make-up pads and put them on the side table.

“Then what are you doing?” You took a wet towel, wiping her face. You patted it dry and misted some toner and moisturiser. You turned back and met Jaebum’s eyes that remained on you, “Why are you looking at me?”

“There’s nothing else to look at,” he simply shrugged. 

You rolled your eyes and pointed to the wall covered with photos of Heather through the years. Most of them had you in them, celebrating every holiday, and some photos from random days when the sun was shining brightly. 

Jaebum stared at the wall as if noticing it for the first time. He got up and slowly walked up towards it. He took in the photos for a while, a small chuckle leaving him sometimes, “How did you two become friends?” 

You smiled at the memory, “She saved me.” 

You stared at your gorgeous friend, as she got up slightly. She searched around, her eyes disappearing as she smiled spotting you, “Oh, you’re here, y/n. I was going to the store on Wednesday.”

She trailed off, falling back into her pillow dozing off again. 

“Her hangover is going to kill her tomorrow,” you turned to Jaebum with a tight smile, as you held up the nightshirt, “I’m going to change her.” 

Jaebum instantly turned on his heels and walked out, closing the doors behind him. 

You walked out to the smell of coffee and Jaebum sitting at the kitchen counter with two mugs in front of him. You furrowed your eyebrows as you settled on the chair in front of him, “Is this poisoned?” 

Jaebum snorted rolling his eyes. 

You blew the coffee before sipping it. It was still searing hot, so you placed it down on the counter, and turned towards Jaebum. 

You took in his midnight hair pushed back, revealing his forehead. You didn’t know you could find someone’s forehead so sexy, but after seeing his hair down while he was at work, you had to admit it was hot. His piercings that were normally missing during office hours had returned too, a few missing. 

You frowned your eyes focusing on his nose and eyebrows, “Why aren’t you wearing all your piercings?” 

“It’s a nuisance putting it on and off,” Jaebum shrugged, before pointing to his lips, his tongue coming out to flick the sliver hoop, “Just wore my favourite.” 

You held your breath, as the image of the cool metal against your lips, flicked by your tongue, gently tugged by your teeth invaded your mind. Your cheeks heated but you continued like nothing was happening to your body. 

“Do you have piercings anywhere else?” 

Jaebum smirked, “If you’re into pierced nipples, I can get them done for you.” 

You groaned, a ridiculous smile on your face as you shook your head, “Can you ever have a conversation without being a prick?” 

“A prick?” he gasped, “that’s a bit harsh. I would say I’m more of a flirt.”

“Oh, so you know? This is a conscious decision. You wake up every day and decide to be the bane of my existence.” 

“I do wake up every morning and think of you,” Jaebum smiled at you. He chuckled, seeing you roll your eyes at him. 

“You’re ridiculous,” you snorted. Jaebum simply shrugged, smiling. 

Something beeped from the kitchen and Jaebum got up. You watched him walk over to the stove and turn it off. He reached for a mug before looking through the drawers for something. 

You narrowed your eyes watching him, “What are you looking for?” 

“Uh... a strainer?” He turned back to you, scratching the back his head. “I don’t know what it’s called.” 

Your heart melted at how adorable he looked standing there, confused and unsure. The smile on his lips was so beautiful as he watched you, waiting for you. 

“The second drawer over there,” you pointed, not looking at him as your cheeks tinted rosy again. 

Jaebum murmured thanks, before using it to drain the liquid from the pot and into the cup, “It’s a hangover tea. My mum makes it for me every time I get too drunk.” 

“You live with your mum?” You asked. Jaebum peered back at you a small smile on his lips. 

“Yeah, but I rarely ever get to see her.” 

“Why’s that?” You frowned. The way Jaebum talked about her, the lightness in his voice and the softness of his smile, told you how much he adored his mother. 

Jaebum shrugged before giving you a cheeky smile, “My house is too big.” 

You laughed at that. You were not expecting that at all. You heard Jaebum’s low chuckle as you sobered up. 

“What about you?” He asked as placed the cup onto a tray with a glass of water and two tablets he found next to the refrigerator. “Do you live alone?”

“Yup,” you nodded, before frowning, “Not even a pet.” 

“No pets?” He asked, sympathetic. 

You nodded, “I’m scared of animals. It doesn’t matter what size, or how well-trained, or what the animal is. I am terrified of them all the same.” 

Jaebum gasped as if you had confessed to a murder, “What is wrong with you?”

“Wow, I thought this was a safe place,” you mumbled before taking a sip from your coffee that had cooled down. You hummed at the taste, he made good coffee. 

“What about your parents?” Jaebum asked, making you stiffen. “Where do they live?” 

You remained quiet. 

You opened your mouth to tell him what you always told anyone who asks. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed or thought it was something to hide. You didn’t want people in your business and telling them to mind their business when they asked only piked up their interest more. 

So you opened your mouth to tell him what you’ve been telling everyone for the past five years, “I don’t live with them.”

Normally you would follow up with something about living here was better for your education or future jobs. You would say something, an excuse, that was reason enough for many young people to move out of their parents home. But what you said surprised you, “I don’t talk to them anymore.” 

“Oh,” was all Jaebum said. “That’s cool too.” 

You peered up at him with a frown. You took in his relaxed gaze, the smile on his face just like it there was a minute ago. There was no sympathy, no pity. There was no spike in interest or anything. 

He really didn’t want to pry. He didn't want to know why unless you told him. He only took as much as you could allow him. 

Suddenly there was an iridescent pond shimmering in your chest. It swirled, making your whole body feel alive as you took in Im Jaebum. It felt as if your entire body was one cell, one tiny speck of dust caught in the breeze of Im Jaebum, and it didn’t mind. 

You gulped, your body and mind acting quicker than you could control, “They couldn’t stand the sight of at me after they found out I was still doing something I promised I wouldn’t do anymore.” 

The faces of your parents appeared in front of your eyes. The shock, anger, the disappointment on their face as they found you lying in a pool of your urine and vomit. The horror in their eyes, their desperateness as they shook your body, pleading for you to reply. 

“They didn't kick me out. I left,” you ran a hand through your hair, as you let out a heavy sigh. You thought of the letter you wrote them, the way they had cried when they came to the hospital to meet you during those months, “I couldn’t hurt them anymore.”

“Do you think you would ever go meet them again?” You looked up to Jaebum watching you. You were thankful for the lack of pity in his eyes as he kept his gaze on you. 

You sighed again, and it came out as a little laugh, “One day I will.” 

You nodded, as you met his eyes. He smiled at you softly, and you smiled back as you scrunched your nose to stop the tears from threatening you, “When I am good enough, I will.” 

“I hope that day comes soon.” 

You didn’t realise Jaebum had come this close to you as you were talking. He leaned against the counter between you, his eyes intently taking you in. He folded his hands on the dark marble, his face leaning half-way over the counter. 

You watched him back. 

He was so beautiful. 

You huffed out a smile as you shook your head at him. Jaebum instantly changed, leaning back, the playfulness in his eyes glinting once again as he rose an eyebrow in question. 

“You’re not too bad, you know?” You smiled at him, before adding, “When you’re acting like a normal human being at least.” 

Jaebum laughed at that before giving you a mocking smirk, “You’re not too bad yourself, y/n.”

You grinned about to say thank you, when he added, “When you’re not acting like a stick is stuck up your ass at least.” 

“What an asshole,” you shook your head, laughing at him. 

Jaebum beamed back, his eyes shining, “What a bitch.” 

You took in the dark flecks in his eyes. You noticed their velvety blackness absorbing all light around it, but something else existed in those captivating eyes of his eyes. They didn’t get dragged away into the twilight of his gaze.  

Instead, it shone brightly. It glistened, it was golden, white and sparkled like a starry night. It dragged you in, it made you want to lean close to him. 

It made you want to place your lips on his and see how that shimmering halo swirled as he pulled you in closer. It made you want to reach for him, to place your hand on his soft cheeks. It made you want to walk around the counter and hug him in the middle of the kitchen littered with red embellishments. 

Jaebum’s smile curled into an easy smirk as he winked at you before turning around. He picked up the tray with a cup of tea, a glass of water and Panadol, as walked towards the door the red-haired beauty was sleeping in. 

Everything had a price. 

Somewhere deep within your heart was a corner buried so deeply in the darkness you had forgotten it existed. The room was cold, dark, and there was nothing. Nothing except for a lone candle standing in the middle of the emptiness. 

There had been nothing there for an eternity, and it was almost like magic. It almost felt like a trick of the eye, but then it happened again. 

A flame, a spark, flickering at the tip of the candle; it sparked again. 

This time it caught on. It burned, slowly getting brighter and livelier. 

You watched Jaebum disappear behind the door of Heather’s room. 

A sharp ache twisted your heart as you saw his broad back enter the dark room she was sleeping in. 

The flame spreading over the wick twisted in shades of ember, their shadows dancing over the room. 

You saw a word, you saw a face. 

You knew the price for this feeling tugging, craving to grow bigger in your heart. You walked into the room, hidden in a deep corner of your heart. The ivory trail of your dress dragged on the dusty floor, turning brown with every step. 

You didn’t look at the walls, you didn’t take in the shapes of the flames. 

You took sharp, clear steps. You reached the candle, the flame reflecting softly against you. You closed your eyes, took in a deep breath and exhaled, blowing out the candle. 

The flame was gone. 

The candle extinguished, the room engulfed in darkness, once again.  

You looked to the wall, the photo was no longer there but the image there was burnt into your mind. 

The price of this feeling was too expensive. 

It was too precious, and you couldn’t afford it.

[wickedscribbles]

Come What May, Chapter Four

Masterlist

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Original Female Character (Second Person Perspective)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: brief description of panic attack -- there is a warning in the body of the chapter as well! Don’t worry. 

Tags: main character has social anxiety, teaching a class with Obi-Wan, sexual tension, lightsaber fights, Obi-Wan continues with the cute pet names, some teacher/student fantasizing, Obi-Wan is still a massive tease, fucking in a supply closet

Word Count: 6.9 K

It's infuriating to know that Obi-Wan is back in the Temple, but that he's too busy to see you. Between Council meetings that drag for hours, more private gatherings with members of the Senate to discuss what the next move in the war should be, and allowing the poor man time to rest, Obi-Wan has been home for more than a week. You've barely caught more than a glimpse of him. Still, it's nice to have him present in your mind.

You know he's still in the Temple every day you wake up to a glowing good morning, love, his happiness to be near you radiating like sunshine even if you haven't had the time to see one another. It’s not safe to talk back and forth, but sometimes if one of you is particularly bored, you’ll trade a few sentences.

Master Yoda is on a roll today. Send help. Starting to think backwards I am.

Pity you I do.

Very funny, petal.

Then he’d be gone again, fading out before anyone got suspicious. The sudden absence hurts, but not as much as having him gone from the Temple entirely. At least here, you can feel him. You know he's safe.

In contrast to Obi-Wan's breakneck schedule, you've had almost nothing to do. It's full-on spring on Coruscant now, the warmth driving cold and flu season away. You have no colicky little ones in the creche to fuss over, no sick Padawans. The most you might see are some old Masters who need their aching bones tended to, or a quick training accident that needs mended. You haven't shipped out to a war-stricken planet in a while, either. It's strange to have downtime. Strange and frustrating, knowing Obi-Wan is nearby but still not close enough. Having a spare moment between all the illness and injuries is a good thing, and you're grateful. If only you weren't so restless.

-----

It’s rare -- almost impossible -- that you get to take the entire day off, but that’s exactly what you’ve been told to do. The medbay sits empty except for a couple of droids, instructed to deep clean while there are no patients. Even Master Allie appears to be taking it easy; her Force is calm as she bids you goodbye. She insists that if anyone turns up in need of healing, she and Barriss Offee would be on call to take care of it. You bow to her and leave, excited about what possibilities this could open up.

The first thing you do is check for Obi-Wan. Of course, he’s preoccupied. You duck out after feeling the level of concentration he’s exerting at something-or-other; it’s mixed with frustration and you don’t want to distract him. Like you, he’s getting more and more impatient with how busy the Council has kept him. You try not to let yourself be disappointed; it would be too lucky for both of you to be free at the same time, on the same day. All you can do is hope that you can find the time to be together before he has to leave again.

With your schedule more open than ever, you head to your favorite courtyard. The least you can do is soak up some Coruscanti sunshine. But only a quarter of an hour passes before you’re interrupted by the sound of footsteps on cobblestones, headed fast in your direction. Around the corner, scattering the kiros birds, comes a youngling you recognize. It's Gil Graven, a spitfire of a youngling you see in the medbay far more than others his age. He drives his minders crazy with his recklessness, but he’s a sweetheart. Even if you swear you have him admitted once a month for sprains and cuts.

Even now he trips and topples, would have earned the Halls of Healing their first visitor of the day, if you hadn't righted him with a quick pull of the Force.

"Easy, Gil. Where's the fire?" You smile, watching the kid tug his too-large tunic back onto his shoulder.

"Fire? There's no fire, miss. I was looking for you!"

His eyes go round with confusion, cheeks red from running. You forgot how literal younglings could be.

"I meant -- wait, looking for me? What's wrong? Who's hurt?"

Kriff. You should've known taking a day off would backfire. Something had happened in the fifteen minutes you’d had your butt parked in the grass. You get to your feet, gripping the pouch of emergency bacta on your belt.

"Oh! It's not a healer thing." Gil bounces in place, thinking. "But you're needed in the training halls! And they told me to find you quick!"

"Gil, calm down for a minute, okay?" The training halls? Why on Ryloth were you wanted there? "Who told you?"

He shrugs, unhelpful. “I dunno. I’ve never met ‘im before. But he told me to go get the Knight from the Healing Halls ‘cause no one’s been admitted today, and you’d be able to help him.”

You’re still not sure if this is a healer problem, or a matter of simple confusion. Gil’s got a touch of what healers like to call bouncy brain. Sweet as he is, he talks at lightspeed and can’t seem to concentrate if he isn’t moving. There’s a real possibility that he’s got something mixed up here. Still, it’s not as if you’re doing anything else. The Force must have decided that you need to keep busy.

You decide to see what he’s going on about. “Okay, Gil. Lead the way.”

-----

Lingering outside one of the larger training rooms is Master Ki-Adi-Mundi, who smiles when he spots Gil leading you over by the hand.

“There you are!” He crouches down to greet your youngling escort, clapping him on the shoulder. “Thank you, Gil, I am so glad you found our friend. You may go now.”

Gil bows to him, his Force blooming under the praise. “Yes, Master.” You both watch as he takes off the way he came, speeding back up to a run.

“No running!” You scold after him. He barely slows before he’s out of sight.

Master Ki-Adi-Mundi chuckles. “That one reminds me of our own Anakin Skywalker.”

You nod, seeing the resemblance. Anakin is five years your junior, but he was still notorious when you were Padawans. Always turning up where he shouldn’t have been, Obi-Wan always three steps behind. Nothing’s changed, Obi-Wan often tells you.

“Master,” you say, hearing the low buzz of voices coming from the room you’re standing in front of. “Gil said you needed me? Is someone injured?”

“Hm? Oh! Oh stars, no.” Master Ki-Adi shakes his head, looking sheepish. “But I was rather hoping you’d be able to help me with a little problem I’ve run into.”

“Of course.” Okay, now I'm suspicious.

Ki-Adi tugs the end of his beard. “My squadron is being called out to fight on very short notice, I’m afraid. I was meant to teach today’s lesson, and was lucky enough to find a substitute for myself on short notice. But my instruction partner is leaving as well, and I haven’t yet found them a suitable replacement.”

“O-oh,” you hear yourself squeak.

Karabast. He wants you to teach? Your stomach drops somewhere near your ankles. This is so far from what you were expecting when Gil led you here. You can’t do this. You can’t.

Ki-Adi must feel your panic, because he continues quickly. “Don’t fret, my dear! My substitute is a very capable instructor. Follow his lead, and everything will be fine.” He claps a hand on your shoulder, turning away.

“Thank you again -- and now I really must be off.” And with that, he’s gone, walking at a brisk pace down the corridor.

CW starts here!

You’re so anxious that you feel like you’re about to be sick. You’ve done many things on behalf of the Council, often without knowing what they even were, but this? You can’t do this. There’s too many people. You lean against the doorframe, struggling for breath.

What’s the matter? Obi-Wan’s concern comes rushing in, and you’re grateful you have him to latch onto, to focus on.

Someone's asked a favor of me -- and I don’t think I can do it. You’re gripping your saber hilt too tight, the metal biting into your hand.

Please try to calm down. Find somewhere to sit and meditate, collect yourself --

Your anxiety is affecting him, making his own thoughts race even if he doesn’t know the cause. This sometimes happens. You’ve jolted awake in the middle of the night more than once with nightmares that weren’t your own, or had thoughts that didn’t make sense ‘til you realized they weren’t yours.

I can’t.

Why not?

You don’t reply. You have to go in there. Master Ki-Adi said that he was already late. Remembering your breathing, you focus on a count of four in through your nose, then hold the breath for a count of seven. When you exhale, you count to eight. After repeating the exercise several times, you can think straight. It’s not the more in-depth meditation Obi-Wan would have preferred, but it helps. All you can do is hope that the instructor carries much of the class, as Master Ki-Adi said he would.

When it feels like you’ve released much of your fear and uncertainty to the Force, you open the door and step in.

CW ends here!

Immediately, twenty pairs of curious Padawan eyes move to follow you, and you cringe. They all sit cross-legged on the padded floor. Three of the walls are lined with mirrors, the better for students to see fighting forms and sparring matches from every angle. On a side wall, a flimsi depicting each form of saber combat stretches the length of the room, cut off only by the supply closet where training accessories are stored. You’ve been in this room and its adjacent siblings dozens of times. But all that isn’t as important to you as the instructor, who’s turned to see why the room’s gone quiet.

It’s Obi-Wan.

Standing bare-foot on one of room-length training mats, in the middle of handing out sparring sticks to the class, he freezes when you lock eyes.

Oh, he says, equal parts shock and happiness.

Yeah.

I say this with the greatest respect, darling -- why did Master Ki-Adi send you?

Because the Healing Halls are completely empty. Also to torture me. You grimace, joining him at the front of the room. He nods to you in greeting, as if you aren’t having a mental conversation.

“Knight Courtee. Glad to see you could join us.”

“I apologize, Master. It was short notice for me, as well.” You bow to him.

Is this what you were so worked up about? They’re only Padawans. They don’t bite -- much.

Once the group realizes that you’re the other instructor that Obi-Wan’s been waiting for, the chatter resumes. They stop ogling you. From the looks of the group, they’re all in the late teens, and bubbling over with energy. Right in the middle of Padawan and Knight, but with all the arrogance to think they’re already the latter. Away from their Masters in a group like this, they tend to get far rowdier than they would otherwise. Each has a lightsaber strapped to their belt.

“Run me through the lesson?” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Quiet!” Obi-Wan demands over his shoulder, and you jump. The loudest cluster of Padawans instantly falls silent behind you.

Sorry, he thinks at you. I’m starting to see why Ki-Adi jumped on the first ship leaving the system.

“Amina, lose the gum. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Yes, now. Navo, do I have to move you to the other side of the room? Don’t think I won’t.”

Mumbles of yes, Master, break out before he turns back to you, satisfied. You don’t smile but know he feels your amusement.

“We’ll be running through some more advanced katas,” Obi-Wan says. “Then we’ll break them into pairs and focus on the saber technique of each pair. At the end of the lesson, you and I will give a demonstration on a chosen form. Perhaps more than one, if the class requests it.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit, thinking back to your own group Padawan lessons. You’d dreaded the paired sparring sessions, having your own form broken down and scrutinized. In the end, though, it had improved your skills. Being able to do the same for this group would be an honor. This is a big piece of being a Jedi, after all; skills passed down from Master to Knight to Padawan.

“It isn’t. Just don’t let them smell your fear,” he grins. “Let’s get started.”

As noisy as the group is, you can tell they’re genuinely excited to be in a session led by Master Kenobi. And Obi-Wan really knows how to lead the room. While you stand stiffly off to the side, nodding whenever he finishes saying something and hoping you don’t look like an idiot, he uses the space. He explains the lesson to them as he explained it to you, then asks if anyone has any questions.

The girl who’d been caught with gum earlier, Amina, raises her hand. Her other hand is busy twirling her long Padawan braid, like she can’t help but fidget with it. “Um, Master Kenobi, why are we using sparring sticks? We’ve had lightsabers for a while now.”

A murmur of agreement washes through the crowd, and Obi-Wan smirks.

“Good question, Padawan. Everyone, close your eyes and reach through the Force. Do you feel how tumultuous the energy in this room is? How excitable? If any one of you lit your saber in this room, I fear someone would lose a limb. And that’s something that Knight Courtee can’t fix for you. So we play it safe.”

Another hand punctuates the air, from the very front of the crowd. This Padawan seems younger than the rest, with hair that sticks up everywhere and eyes focused only on Obi-Wan. He starts speaking before he can be called on.

“All due respect, Master,” he says, in a way that makes you think that he’s used to sharing unorthodox opinions. The corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth quirks up as he fights a smile, and you feel him think of Anakin.

“Why are we here? We’re fighting a war. Many of us have already seen combat alongside our Masters.” He lowers his eyes to the mat, afraid he’s gone too far. When his fellow Padawans start nodding and whispering, he tugs on the end of his nerf-tail, as if unsure of what to do.

Obi-Wan takes a moment to consider this question, hand going to his beard as it often does when he’s thinking.

“I appreciate your honesty, Caleb. And you’re correct. It might seem...redundant to spend your time here when even now fellow Jedi are fighting real battles.”

He pauses, thinking of how to continue. The Padawans are hanging onto his every word, the room silent. “But that’s why it’s so important to refine your technique when we can spare the time, in a secure environment. It will make you stronger when you face a real opponent. It might even save your life. Does that make sense?”

Wow, you think to yourself. He’d handled that beautifully. Even though Caleb had spoken out of turn, Obi-Wan hadn’t belittled him or made the teen feel bad about what was an honest and important question. He’d taken the time to consider the Padawan’s feelings, and had given him an equally honest answer, not something to pacify him. It takes you back to your own Padawan training, when Obi-Wan had been your instructor.

“Yes, Master,” Caleb ducks his head, looking relieved. “thank you.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes search the room. “Anything else?”

After a pause, another hand goes up, toward the back.

“Millu?” You love that he knows everyone by name. Some Padawans turn around to reveal a burly Mon Calamari boy.

“Yeah.” His bright yellow eyes dart over to you. “Uh, speaking of Knight Courtee. Why are you teaching us? I thought you were just, like, a healer.” There’s no real malice in his tone, more like an off-handed curiosity, but Obi-wan stiffens.

Luckily you think of something to say before he can open his mouth. It wouldn’t look good for him to get upset defending you.

“That’s an excellent question, Millu, thank you.” You shoot him a smile, and you swear his scales darken with a blush.

“Being a Jedi with healing abilities does not mean that you get to neglect other aspects of your training. On the contrary, your connection with the Force must be powerful at all times. Healing will swamp you physically and emotionally, so you must keep both body and mind strong to withstand it.”

Your smile widens. “Of course, if you’re asking if you can best me in a fight, we’ll see how you match up during paired spars. Sound good?”

Laughter breaks out, and Millu blushes even darker before muttering, “Sure,” and looking away. Even if it seemed like he was questioning your ability to teach them (as you yourself are), you’re grateful the interaction’s lightened the mood.

Nicely done, says Obi-Wan.

“Very good,” he says aloud, clapping his hands together. “Now if we’re done heckling Knight Courtee, let’s begin with some stretches, please.”

------

Obi-Wan was right, you think, walking around the room. This...isn’t bad at all. You walk from pair to pair, taking in the angle of their weapon, how they hold their bodies, making minor corrections and leaving comments as you go. They look up when you come by, eager to see what you’re going to say to them. It’s much easier to interact with the Padawans on this smaller scale, and you find yourself joking with them, smiling. After a while, they even start asking for you, looking to see if you can demonstrate a move or if they’re holding the training stick the correct way. They aren’t scary at all -- just excitable kids who want to learn.

I’m sorry, Obi-Wan was what?

Looking up, you see Obi-Wan grinning across the room, demonstrating his own correction. In the middle of all this excitable teen Force energy, it’s easy for you to have a conversation and go unnoticed.

You were right. I like this.

And you’re good at it; they adore you. You’re going to make a wonderful Master. He shows you a brief image of a happy Padawan trailing behind you, eager to follow wherever you lead. It’s the best feeling, love.

Unexpected emotion rises in your chest at his pure sincerity. He knows how insecure you are about the fact that you’ll soon have your own Padawan to look after, but he doesn’t have a single doubt that you can do it. For the first time, you let yourself think of the situation in a hopeful light. It was a path you never pictured for yourself, but one that you know you have to follow. Obi-Wan makes it look so easy. Anakin, and even Anakin’s Padawan Ahsoka, look at him like he hung the stars. Of course, so do you.

“Last twenty minutes!” Obi-Wan calls over the noise of sparring sticks clacking together. “Take a seat, class.”

The Padawans rush to do as they’re told, everyone clamoring for the best spot to view your spar with Master Kenobi. They go completely silent, waiting for you to join him. A hush even falls over the Force energy in the room, like they’re all holding their breath.

Obi-Wan sinks into a bow when you’re opposite him, one hand on his saber. When you glance down in confusion, he sends a wave of amusement.

I said I didn’t trust the Padawans, darling. Not you.

Not sure if that’s wise. You bow in return, unclipping your saber also. He ignites his blade, the blue glow casting light over all the reflections of the mirrors. Taking a deep breath, trusting the familiar feeling of your own weapon, you ignite your lightsaber. The bright green light shimmers over your hands, crackling with your energy.

You’re surprised at how nervous you are. It’s one thing to watch him from across the room, to be taught by him as a Padawan yourself, but to spar with Obi-Wan as an equal? He’s going to wipe the floor with you.

“What form does Knight Courtee use?” You hear somebody whisper.

“Form five -- she told me.”

“Oooh, really? That’ll be fun to see against Master Kenobi.”

“Shhh!”

Obi-Wan waits until the group is quiet again to ask if you’re ready to start. Your saber hums hot in your hand, a little less controlled than you’d like it.

“Ready as I can be, Master.”

“Then let’s begin.”

No sooner are the words out of his mouth than he’s in your space, much closer than you want him with a lightsaber in hand. You strike out instinctively and he expected that, anticipated it. He was baiting you. Your blade bounces off of his far more harshly than you like, the zyoom echoing through the room. You take a step back, try to calculate an opening. He mirrors you, waiting to react. It takes you longer than it should to realize that he’s shielded the bond up tight, not giving anything away. The only thing you can hear is your heartbeat and the crackling of the sabers, each one fueled by its master’s adrenaline.

He keeps his blade held at eye level, and you lunge in for a mid-range attack. Obi-Wan blocks but you keep it coming, getting back into the groove of Djem So after spending so long out of combat. It feels good to have the saber be a part of you, to have it grow lighter as it remembers your touch.

Strike, block, strike, block. You’re working at a breakneck rhythm trying to get through his defenses, but Obi-Wan won’t give an inch. Sweat pours down your temple but still you press, using the Force to try and search for a weak point but finding none. He’s too kriffing fast.

There’s a reason they call him Master of this form. It’s infuriating, the almost lazy way he flicks your lightsaber aside every time, using your energy against you. There’s not a hair out of place on him. Every time you lower your blade, wondering what to do, he simply resets, content to wait again. You can tell from the look in his eyes that he knows you’re getting tired.

The Padawans are anything but quiet now -- some shouting Get her, Master Kenobi! while others insist that you can hold your own. Your eyes flick over to them once. Some lean forward towards the fight as far as they dare, a few are even on their feet in support.

When Obi-Wan finally tips his saber in retaliation, you barely manage to block, caught off guard at the change from defense to offense. He strikes again, again, again -- each blow more brutal than the last, each one so close to your skin that you can feel his blue saber’s sizzling heat. He’s driving you back against the wall. Despite your best effort, you’re losing ground where you’d previously held it. When you feel your back slam against the wall he was driving you toward, you gasp and fumble a block -- your last move. The blade of Obi-Wan’s saber hovers near your throat, a win.

“And that’s your head,” he says easily. You lower your saber and extinguish the blade, holding your hands up in a show of defeat.

The room erupts.

“Master Kenobi, that was so wizard --”

“Knight Courtee was letting him have it! Did you see --?”

“I wish I could have recorded that for the holo!”

“Settle down,” Obi-Wan says, but he’s smiling. “I’m glad that you all have found this lesson so illuminating.” He bows to you, signalling the end of the match, and you follow suit.

“You’re dismissed,” he says to the room. The declaration is met with mixed reactions; half are glad to be free, half don’t want the lesson to be over yet.

“No need to hang around and help tidy this time. You were such a good group that Knight Courtee and I are glad to take care of it.” It’s traditional for students to stick around after the lesson is done and help roll up the training mats, collect the sparring sticks, and clean the room in any other way that needs it.

That statement really gets them out the door, though several of them whine about him being far cooler than their regular teacher and why can't he teach them all the time?

Once everyone’s filed out, Obi-Wan locks the door behind them. He turns to you with a long sigh, relieved that the loudness of all those teenagers in one place has dispersed.

“Well,” you say. “That’s not how I expected my morning to go.”

“I’m glad,” Obi-Wan replies. “I was beginning to think that I wouldn’t see you at all in my time home, yet here we are.”

“Like the Force willed it.”

He beams at that, drawing you tight against him. “C’mere. My bright little instructor.”

You grumble, cheek pressed against his chest. “You flayed me within an inch of my life, Obi-Wan.”

All he does in response to your grumpiness is chuckle, placing warm kisses everywhere he can reach on your face. “Yes. I did.”

“It was embarrassing.”

“I couldn’t exactly go easy on you, could I?”

No, he couldn’t. Everyone knows the extent of Obi-Wan’s skill, and while you aren't untalented with a saber, winning or even overcoming him would be unlikely. You’d fought honestly, and so had he. Anything else would have invoked suspicion.

He takes your silence for the correct answer, then gently pries your cheek from his body.

“Would it help if you got kisses as a consolation prize?” He’s looking at you so fondly, like you’re his favorite thing in the galaxy. You nod, already leaning on your tiptoes to reach.

Obi-Wan hums against your lips, sinking against you like he’s been waiting for this -- because you both have. The kisses stay close-mouthed, but he’s pressing them onto you fast, his hands roaming you urgently. Your bond tells you that he wants to take his time with you, would have each moment stretch out for as long as possible, if he could. He wants to savor you. But arousal is winning out.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, pulling back to brush his nose against yours. “Do you know how much restraint it took not to pin you against the wall and have you, at the end of our fight? To resist sending all the little Padawans away right then?”

You gasp, feeling heat stirring deep in your stomach. The honey-sweetness of his tone contrasts with his words, but he’s just getting started.

“There was such fire in your eyes when we sparred, kitten." Kitten. Yet another pet name to add to your already large collection. This one makes you blush, and you don't miss Obi-Wan's pleased grin. "I had to shut you out so that you wouldn’t get distracted by my, er, distraction.”

His distraction presses up against your leg now, thick and hot. Obi-Wan tugs the end of your braid hard, tilting your head back to expose your neck. You whimper against him, all but letting him hold you up at this point. He loves it -- going to work at once nipping and kissing everywhere he can get to. His breath is heavy on your skin as he ruts against your thigh, trying and failing to bite back his own ecstatic moans.

“We’re alone now,” you choke out, hardly aware enough to string the sentence together. “s-so you can -- do whatever you want with me.”

This makes him pause. “Is that so?” Obi-Wan’s tone is still so light, like you’re having a conversation about what they’re serving in the refectory today, not how badly you want him to fuck you.

“Yes,” you say, embarrassed at how desperate you sound, how easily you melt for him. You can see yourself over his shoulder in the mirrors, and you blush, burying your face.

He laughs a little at your reaction. “What if I want to take you into that supply closet and bend you over?” His hand roams down your body, landing on your crotch. Two fingers rub a strong circle through the material, and you lean into it. “What if I want to take you from behind, make up for all the time we haven’t been together?”

“I’d ask why -- aren’t we already there,” you huff, blinking up at him.

That’s all the answer he needs. In one motion, he grabs you round the middle and hauls you over his shoulder like a sack of meilooruns. Your breath whooshes out, surprise and a lack of air keeping you from forming a sentence as he marches you to the closet as promised. The ground bounces and sways in your vision as you’re jostled -- it’s a strange sensation, being carried. Thankfully, it only lasts a few seconds.

Obi-Wan opens the door and closes it just as quickly once you’re both inside, making you aware of how small, how dark, the space is. You find yourself deposited on the storage bin that the mats are kept in, your legs dangling high in the air. He leans in to kiss you, nothing but hot breath and hungry hands, and you fist your own in the front of his tunic. It spurs him on, and soon his tongue is pressing into your open mouth, exploring every corner.

You moan into him, your fingers going beyond clothes to scratch against his chest. Obi-Wan picks you up again and you lift your legs around his waist, rubbing tight against his cock. He bears your entire weight like it’s nothing, continuing to kiss you as if your legs are planted on the ground. Stars, the strength, the eagerness of him, is overwhelming. His arms are pillars, holding you steady, crossed firm around your back.

"I thought you said," you gasp out, shivering when his tongue flicks out to catch your earlobe, "something about -- bending me over --"

“So eager today,” he says, his voice a tantalizing purr.

“Can you blame me?” you blurt.

"And what does that mean, dearest?"

He already knows what you mean. It’s everywhere in your mind. You can’t hide how you feel when you’ve been this close to him for so long, forbidden to touch him, to even think about it until you’ve reached your breaking point.

Obi-Wan, hands behind his back, patiently watching the Padawans demonstrate their forms. Nodding and sometimes stepping in to correct, placing his hand casually on an arm or leg to shift the balance of their weight. Then the Padawan he’s correcting becomes you, and his touch is no longer innocent. The group is melting away, and his mouth is trailing down your neck, whispering things that have little to do with the kata you’re struggling through.

“Oh,” he chuckles. “I see.”

You bump your head into his shoulder, too embarrassed to answer. As if to reassure you, Obi-Wan sends you an image back.

Both of you in the same training room, but you stand among your fellow Padawans, now all Knights, shuffling anxiously from foot to foot. You don't look that much different from the way you do now, but for the traditional Padawan's hairstyle.

Though you're seeing things from his perspective, the mirrors give him away; Obi-Wan looks younger, too. There are no lines around his eyes here, he holds himself more loosely. Like there isn't a galaxy-wide war. And he's less certain as he flits from student to student, new at this.

"You were always a pleasure to speak to, you know," Obi-Wan tells you, low voice right in your ear. He knows that he's teasing you, knows exactly the effect it's having on your body. You squirm in his tight grip, unable to go anywhere to get away from the softness of his voice.

"Polite and passionate. Made your Master very proud. But…" he trails off, and you shiver, anticipating his next words.

"So anxious whenever you saw me, weren't you?" He muses, fingers flexing on the curve of your ass. "And now I finally understand why."

"Obi-Wan…" you protest, unsure of what you're going to say next but just knowing that you need the teasing to stop. Both mental and physical -- he's hard against your abdomen, almost painful with how tight you're wedged against him.

"Down, love," he says. With effort, you extract your legs from around his waist and plant your feet on the floor, with his hands to guide you. "Turn around."

For a moment, you get excited, thinking that he's done teasing you. Obi-Wan makes quick work of your belt, dropping it to the floor seconds before your pants and underwear. You step out of them, breathing heavily, feeling his chest against your back. There's a clink, and you realize that he's dropped his belt as well, one hand bracing on your shoulder as he fumbles out of his own bottoms.

There's nothing between you now. Obi-Wan's bare dick rubs against your tailbone, leaving a warm dribble of pre-come.

"Now bend forward for me, darling -- that's it --"

You lean on the storage bin, heart thumping a tattoo in your throat. Obi-Wan lines himself up behind you, breath ragged, and sinks inside you in one long push.

"Obi-Wan, oh," you cry out, not expecting how full you'd feel from this angle.

"I know, sweetheart, I know," he says, taking a moment to adjust to the sensation. His mind is a high buzz of pleasure, looking forward to taking you apart in this new, delicious way.

Then he moves. So, so deep and slow. You let out a broken whine, toes curling. He pauses, holds his breath. Then thrusts again, just as unhurried as the first time, and your fingers scrabble for purchase on the smooth material of the bin in front of you.

“Hmm,” Obi-Wan sighs. “Do you know, this reminds me of something.”

You groan, not out of pleasure, but because he’s stopped. How? Where and how did he find the restraint to torment you like this? You’re not sure which part of today’s interaction set him off, but you sorely wish that he’d get down to business and fuck you.

“What does it remind you of?” you ask tightly, figuring that playing along will get you where you want to be faster. As if rewarding you, Obi-Wan’s hands come around to find your breasts, teasing your nipples with the barest of touches. Gods if he doesn’t go faster --

He can hear your mind loud and clear, but says nothing, only sending a feeling of amusement back before answering your question.

"Watching you go through katas in this very room. Or, well, the room outside." Obi-Wan presses into your back, finally starting to push into you in a slow but satiating rhythm.

"Mmm," you manage, pressing your lips together hard to avoid reaching an inappropriate volume.

“Do you remember the criticism I had for you, little Padawan? You were so tense. Why was that?” All the while he’s languidly thrusting into you from behind. As if he expects you to form a coherent response.

“I l-liked you,” you stammer out, bracing yourself on the edge of the storage bin.

"Oh? Well, I liked you too. You were a wonderful student."

"That's not what I --" Thank the Maker that it's pitch black in this closet, because your face is burning.

"But for some reason," he continues, enjoying himself, "you always needed correction in solo practice. The other Masters told me, several times, that that was not an issue in their own lessons."

You can only whimper as he bears into you deeper. He knows exactly what he's doing to you. When you place a hand on your stomach, just above your belly button, you can feel him inside you.

"Tell me, sweetheart. Did you need my hands on your body, as desperately as you do now?"

"Yes, Master," you all but sob. "I need, I n-need --"

"Need me to fuck you?" Obi-Wan supplies, voice going rough and breathy. "Need me to wreck you, the way your mind is screaming for it?"

You slam the palm of your hand on the top of the bin, and it makes a hollow thud, sending pain shooting up your arm.

"Obi-Wan, yes! Please, please fuck me, I need it!" You're aware that your words border on incoherence, but not enough to care.

And he doesn't either.

Just as you've reached your limit, so does Obi-Wan. One of his hands grabs your wrist and pins it, hard, while the other squeezes your hip.

"Are you ready?" He pants in your ear, pausing only to nip at your shoulder blade. Already he's fucking you deeper, so good so thick inside you, that you're writhing under his every touch.

"Wanted to do this -- for s-so long --" Obi-Wan gasps out and so do you, the heat of orgasm reaching a crescendo in your thighs as you feel him come apart in your mind.

"Want to come so deep inside you, darling, oh please, please --"

You know that he's barely hanging on, waiting for your permission.

"Gods, Master, yes --" Like you could deny him this, when you want it so desperately too.

His forehead drops to your shoulder as he rams into you, shoving you against the bin. It takes everything you have not to scream his name when you come, gripping his arm -- the only part of him you can reach from this angle.

Obi-Wan isn't far behind, moaning loud behind you as your orgasm makes your pussy clamp down even tighter on him.

"Yes, yes, oh my Gods --"

The bond flares up sudden and white-hot between you, carrying the sensation of Obi-Wan's pleasure just as it had that night on Odryn.

"Kriff," you say weakly, clutching his arm like it's the only thing connecting you to the planet.

Sweetheart, I'm there, I'm right there

I know, and I'm -- me too --

Again?

Yes

Oh fuck, fuck -- I'm coming, stars, I'm coming, oh --

You come a second time when Obi-Wan starts to spurt inside you, tears spilling from the intensity of it all. With him this tight against your body, you swear you can feel every hot spurt of come shoot up inside you. Obi-Wan's teeth are caught in the material of your tunic, muffling his shout. It feels like you stand there, taking his come for minutes, as he shudders against you.

When it's over you whimper, leaning against his chest on aftershock-weak legs. Slowly, as if his head is one step behind, Obi-Wan puts his arms around you.

"Stars above, Obi-Wan," you mutter, every coherent thought fucked out of your head. Your brain feels like static, but your body's floating. Pulling out and turning you gently to face him again, Obi-Wan plants a line of soft kisses from your forehead to your mouth. His release runs heavy down your thighs, but there's not much you can do about it here.

"Not tense now, are you?" he says, tracing slow, wet circles over your sensitive clit.

You laugh. "You're unbelievable."

"No, I'm committed to a scene," Obi-Wan corrects, as if this was all an elaborate game.

You consider saying something along the lines of, I'm going to commit my boot to your rear end if you don't quit it, but think better of it.

Instead you re-dress, wincing at the mess you'll have to tolerate down your crotch and legs until you can get to the nearest fresher. This is the downfall of spontaneous sex. No easy cleanup.

"Next time, would you like to come with me?" Obi-Wan's asking. You snort, buckling your belt back into place.

"Pretty sure I just did. You didn't notice?"

He pauses, then opens the closet door, letting in a blinding slice of light. Though he's dressed, Obi-Wan looks disheveled and wide-eyed still in a way that you always adore.

"That's...no. That's not what I'm talking about, love," he says, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"I mean, the next time I have to leave. Come with me. I think we've both come to realize that being apart is painful. And that being together isn't just a physical concept anymore."

His voice has dropped to a near-whisper, but you're hanging on to every word. Though you'd never admit it aloud, this is exactly what you want. To follow him instead of lying awake every night, worrying he won't come back from the last distant system he's shipped away to. You want to be beside him, no matter how rough things are.

You are a Jedi, not a housewife. And frankly, being kept in the Temple while he's away risking his neck, the bond blocked for days or weeks at a time, is torture.

Obi-Wan listens to all this, your outpouring of emotion through the bond you never meant to forge with him. He shows his understanding, his respect, his compassion for you, in return.

"Okay. Okay," he says, more to himself than you. "I'll speak to the Council. Knowing them, it may take some time to get an answer, but --"

You cut him off with a kiss. It doesn't matter. As long as you're together.

[ttttaehyungie]

sincerely, but no longer yours | chapter 5

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sincerely, but no longer yours | ex!kim namjoon x reader

genre | angst, smut, exes au

summary | It started as a coping mechanism as getting the words out provided a form of catharsis. But now you can’t stop writing these love letters, even with the knowledge that they’ll never get sent. After all, who writes love letters to their ex?

word count | 5.2k

chapter rating | 18+

warnings | angst, smut (but it’s angsty smut lksjdflk help), nipple play, dry humping, alcohol consumption, someee intense jealousy

a/n | FIRST OF ALL im so sorry this is so incredibly late lskjdflkjs life has been extremely busy for me 😪 but it’s here!!!! thank you to everybuddy who’s been waiting patiently for this 🤧🤧 but i think this is one of the most angsty chapters of the series soooo 🙃

Namjoon’s an expert at avoiding uncomfortable topics, even if they’re massively serious. It’s something you absolutely hated and it was the cause of many arguments in your previous relationship, and perhaps was even the ultimate cause of your breakup.

But right now, you’re really beginning to understand the appeal.

The first time he swung by the museum for lunch after his birthday celebration - a paper bag in hand filled with bagels still warm and toasty from the store on the corner that you adore - you were caught entirely off guard.

Your mind jumps to the unread messages sitting in your texts and you regret ignoring them. Not because the guilt had hit you, but because maybe if you had been contactable, you would have received a heads-up that he was coming by.

Some might call it selfish, but you prefer to call it self-preservation.

To be fair, it’s not like you were going to leave them unanswered forever. You just needed space to collect your thoughts and make sense of your confusing emotions first, lest you begin the conversation prematurely and drag Namjoon down into the dizzying depths of your current state. As it is right now, your thoughts are like nodes floating in a decontextualized void, the web still unformed because you haven’t had the time to grapple with everything yet.

But here he is, inspecting the cross-section of each bagel Soo-eun pulls out of the bag, trying to identify which is which. Yeri’s at his side, gushing about how great the bagels from this place are. The three of them are crowded around the paper bag that sits on the wooden bench, the paint peeling from the way it’s been bleached by the sun in the museum’s outdoor area. Here he is at your workplace. With your friends. You can’t ignore him now, not without rousing your friends’ suspicion.

But what you can ignore is the issue.

It’s not the time nor the place to talk about this anyway. The atmosphere is warm and light, carrying traces of last night’s celebratory mood. The lunch treat is Namjoon’s way of appreciating the surprise you guys organized for him last night. And there’s a bagel stuffed full of salty sweet ham and sticky melty cheese waiting for you to sink your teeth into. Really not the time for serious conversations at all.

So when Namjoon’s eyes search yours, all wide and probing, as you step in to grab your share, you simply smile and thank him, before slinking away to join Soo-eun on the next bench. Not too far - barely five steps away - but far enough that it gives you space to breathe. Even if Namjoon notices your attempts at escaping, he doesn’t have time to call you out on it. Not when you slyly shoot Yeri a wink. Seamlessly, she catches the cue and sits herself down on the bench, tugging at his arm. For once, you welcome Yeri flirting with Namjoon.

“Let’s eat! I’m starving,” she says.

You don’t miss the way Namjoon’s gaze flickers between you and Yeri, but you ignore it and take a generous bite of the bagel in your hands.

“Mm, so good,” you say, and turn to Soo-eun. “Don’t you miss the days before this place got really popular?”

“No, because you and Yeri insisted on going there every day. I can only ingest so many bagels a week.”

“____ hasn’t changed one bit.” Namjoon chuckles. “This time in middle school, she ate tater tots every single day for three weeks straight. She had to be banned for a week.”

“Are you weaponizing my middle school past against me?” you ask amidst your friends’ laughter. “Too bad. I don’t regret it for a second. Tater tots are too delicious to regret.”

Lunch falls back into the easy rhythm of lighthearted jibes, the kitchen debacle receding for now.

Procrastination is a real bitch of a habit to kick. As soon as one reason to put it off expires, your brain churns out another two in its place like a modern-day Hydra.

As for Namjoon? Well, you’re not surprised when he makes no moves to initiate the difficult conversation. After all, you’re adopting his bad habit.

Eventually it gets to the point where you might as well not talk about it at all. Everything’s going fine so far without it. Or as fine as it can be with this beast looming in the backdrop.

You know you need to just get this damn conversation over with. But you can’t. Not till you figure out what exactly is going on with your emotions. Without it, there’s no way you can cauterize the wounds and invalidate your excuses for what they are -- excuses.

It’s not that you haven’t tried. But it’s presenting itself as a real Herculean effort. Mulling it over has you tossing and turning in bed, only leaving you with a headache and a steadily growing desperation. It’s desperation enough that you leave the comfortable warmth of your bed to sit at your desk, shivering as you pen the familiar words once again.

Dear Namjoon,

The words flow in their usual, unrestricted manner. Before, it had been like a dam breaking, the tight restraint that was normally kept on your emotions finally released and the wave of emotions gushing out till it reached a peaceful equilibrium. But now, your emotions are just a whirlpool and your words you pen mimic its spiralling, chasing your thoughts in endless loops.

You’re not over him. But so what? It’s not like getting together is an option. Not when he hasn’t grown out of one of the major things that caused the end of your previous relationship. And not when you haven’t even talked that out, if you ever will.

So what can you do now? Kicking him out of your life will mean having to deal with the loss that his absence will bring again. Going back to pretending the other doesn’t exist will mean dancing around each other again every time you bump into each other in this too small city. And with the way your social circles are intertwined now, that would mean a bunch of explaining to do.

But having him close yet holding him at arm’s length? Walking the narrow margin that is being friends with your ex? A misstep in either direction would be torturous but inevitable - too close and it’s alarming, but too far and it’s a painful reminder that he’s not yours.

Far from the illuminating effect you were hoping it would have, your letter to Namjoon only leaves you deeper in confusion. You throw your pen down. Giving up, you fold the paper up. Sealing the letter in an envelope doesn’t bring the same sense of relief it did before. The Hydra remains unslain.

And so the problem gets shoved away - the same treatment the letter gets as it’s roughly tossed into the desk drawer - into the same corner of the recesses of your mind that your breakup resides in.

You know that Namjoon’s confused. Heck, you are too. It’s a strange dance the two of you are involved in, caught between the compulsion to continue yet knowing the risks it bears. Neither of you are bold enough to take the lead. And so this strange stasis drags on as it has for weeks now.

It’s as if the kiss unearthed something in him. Actually no, it’s unearthed something in both of you. And the tension - the fucking tension - is unreal. The tells are so obvious that you wonder how neither Yeri nor Soo-eun have said anything about it yet. There’s certainly no subtlety in the way his eyes linger on your lips in the middle of conversations that you wonder if he’s even aware he’s doing it.

And when it’s just the two of you? It’s infinitely worse.

It’s hard to blame him. Touch has always been your love language and Namjoon knows it. Physical touch wasn’t just a thing of your previous two-year relationship. It was a thing of your decades of friendship too, the little touches so casual and almost subconscious. Rekindling your friendship without them had taken intentional effort.

You’re not sure who started it. Maybe both of you just fell back into it, the casual little touches slipping their way back in. But what’s not casual at all is the way your heartbeat goes erratic at the most simple of gestures. The way he blithely sweeps the crumbs from your lunch off your lap. The slightly too long side-hug he holds you in, the warmth of his arm around you permeating through the layers you wear and has you simultaneously freezing up while also turning your insides to goo. But it isn’t overtly romantic either.

At least, that’s the excuse you give yourself when the comfort of his touch gets too tempting and you end up succumbing to it. The familiarity of it all makes you feel like you’ve finally arrived home. As if you’ve been on this long, arduous journey and you’re finally here. You get to drop the heavy backpack and rest now.

But the voice of rationality in you tells you this wrong wrong wrong. You’ve got to get out of here.

And that’s how you end up here. White-knuckled grip tight on the edges of the sink as you stare yourself dead in the eyes in the bathroom mirror. The music outside thumps away albeit muted through the door to the ladies’. But the way your heart thumps has nothing to do with that.

Even without shifting your gaze, you can tell that your cheeks are slightly reddened and warm. You can feel it tingling. No, you don’t shift your gaze. It stays fixed on the intense stare that your reflection throws back at you like a challenge, the ferocity of it enhanced by the sharp eyeliner you’re wearing tonight, an uncharacteristic look for you.

Heck, this whole night is uncharacteristic.

You could take the easy route and blame it on Yeri. God knows she can be real persuasive - it’s why she’s excellent at her job. So getting you all out to the club on a Friday night to celebrate nothing other than the simple joy that - c’mon guys, we’re all young and alive and free and tell me that’s not worth celebrating and I’ll fucking fistfight you right here and now even with my freshly manicured nails - is no feat for her.

Still, no one really expected your simple reply, tone nonchalant and eyes still glued to your work screen, “Yeah, I could use a night out.”

Soo-eun had remained silent but you could feel her stiffen slightly beside you. Yeri had been surprised too but more elated that she didn’t have to get through your usual ten solid minutes of whining and half-baked attempts at slithering your way out of it.

But back to the present. Your bodycon dress - one of the rare pieces that survived not just your college partying days but also the wardrobe purge that occurred when you had to downsize everything to fit into the tiny apartment that’s quintessential to city-living - expands with your chest as you take a deep breath. Gripping the hem where it sits mid-thigh, you yank it down slightly. It’s been a while since you’ve worn this dress. And while the younger, more risque version of you that was your college self had been enthralled by the daringness of the dress, your current self has to dig deep to muster up that same boldness.

Relenting as you realize that this is the limit to how much you can stretch the length of your dress, you let go and your fingertips unintentionally brush your thigh as it falls back to your side. It elicits a shudder, the sensation of your own fingers too close to the electrifying feeling of someone’s thumb skimming across it. It was electrifying enough that your brain finally powered up again, voice of rationality sending you skedaddling away, out of reach of his touch, and pathetically seeking refuge in the washroom.

You roll your shoulders back and shake your head, dispelling the thoughts. Standing upright, you look yourself in the eye again. You can do this. You’re going to go out there, and you’re going to have a good time with your friends. You’re going to have a good time with Namjoon. With a nod of affirmation, you turn and saunter your way back to the club with a confidence that has your chin firmly tipped upwards.

You push the door open and look for your friends. The sight that greets you immediately punctures your confidence and your steady posture falls limp.

It’s hard to miss her silvery dress - the dress you knew she would wear and the dress that your very own was meant to counter. It catches the light and grabs attention. And at this moment, it grabs your attention so you can witness Yeri standing between Namjoon’s manspread thighs as he’s perched on the barstool, her hands all over him.

Whatever puffed up confidence you’d had is knocked out of you with that sucker punch of a sight. You turn away, needing to look anywhere but at them.

And that’s when your line of sight falls on a curly-haired man, oddly familiar, and apparently someone you know since he’s waving to you.

“____, hey!” he yells over the music.

“Dong-In?”

He nods and smiles at you. “It’s been a while.”

“Wait.” You gasp. “I was supposed to get back to you on brunch, wasn’t I?” Damn. You’ve been so wrapped up with Namjoon that you totally forgot about Dong-In. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been really caught up with things.”

“It’s no biggie.” He shrugs boyishly. “The exhibition, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sure, the exhibition. Let’s go with that.

“And nothing to do with…” he directs his gaze - and yours along with it - to none other than Namjoon who’s now drinking with Yeri.

Your gaze snaps back to Dong-In and his cheshire grin.

“Nah,” you feign a laugh. “He’s just a friend.”

“The hand he had on you sure didn’t look like just friends.”

“I said we’re just friends,” you snap, then gasp, taken aback by your own outburst. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, I should be the one apologizing. I hit a nerve there, didn’t I. D’you wanna talk about it?” His voice is warm and mellow and oh so inviting. And you very nearly give in.

But you can’t pull him into your problems. It’s not his burden to bear.

“Not really. But thanks, Dong-In.”

“That’s cool.” He nods, and relief fills you. This is what you’ve always liked about Dong-In. He’s chill. “Well since we’re here, wanna get buzzed?”

You laugh. “I won’t say no to that.”

The bar isn’t too far from where you are, and it doesn’t take long before the burn of alcohol is sliding down your throat. Picking up the conversation again, you have to admit, you’d forgotten how easy it is to talk to Dong-In. He’s got that effortless charisma and an easy sense of humor that you can vibe with. Things are simple with him. There’s no line to be tiptoed. Flirting - now that you’re no longer obtuse and you’re finally aware that he is indeed flirting with you - isn’t accompanied by guilt or fear.

And after weeks of this complicated situation with Namjoon, simplicity is what you crave.

“Hey, do you wanna dance?” you ask suddenly. Surprise colors his features for a moment but he laughs it off.

“Is the conversation boring you? You could have just told me to shut up if you wanted me to,” he jokes.

“No!” You laugh. “There’s just a good beat going and-”

“I’m just kidding. I’d love to.” He smiles and grabs your hand.

The two of you weave your way through the mass of gyrating bodies. Lightly buzzed, the fog and the strobe lights blurring everything around you other than your dance partner, you finally find the courage you’ve been searching for this whole time. Dong-In hasn’t been very subtle about checking you out all night, and it gives you that extra boost of confidence that’s finally quelled the antsy thoughts and calmed the fidgety adjustments to your dress’s hemline.

So when his hands find your waist, you step in a little closer and run your hands through your hair, shaking it out and finally letting loose as your hips rock to the pounding beat. Dancing with Dong-In is much like conversing with him- easy and simple fun with just the slightest tinge of excitement. As your hips sway together in languid synchrony, you catch a whiff of the slightly intoxicating combination of his cologne and the undertones of his own natural scent. You give in to the giddying sensation of his hands running lightly over your body and press in closer, eyes fluttering shut, and just feeling. It’s thrilling. It’s risque. It’s-

A solid grip on your wrist yanks you forward and stumbling into a hard chest.

His voice is gruff as he bites out his words, “Get your hands off her.”

“Namjoon?” you gape.

“We’re leaving.” His eyes fix on yours, steely and piercing. A shiver runs down your spine - in all your years of knowing him, you’ve never seen him like this. He tugs on your wrist once more. “Now.”

Dazed by this brand new persona, you don’t even get to say goodbye to Dong-In, just pulled along by the force that is a quietly fuming Namjoon. Everything happens so quickly that it’s all a blur until you’re in the Uber with him, silently clutching onto your purse as an anchor in this sudden whirlwind of events. The anger emanates off of him even in the dimly lit backseat.

“What the fuck?” you whisper, but the shock diminishes the level of conviction in your voice.

He turns to you, the same hardness still in his gaze. “I should be the one asking that.”

“What?!” you snap. In your peripheral vision, you see the Uber driver jump slightly. Lowering your tone, you hiss, “What gives you the right?”

“What gives me the right?” he echoes incredulously, scoffing and turning away from you to face forward instead as he rolls his eyes. “This is ridiculous.”

The car slows to a stop and you recognize your apartment building. You scramble to get away from him. But it seems your confrontation is far from over. Namjoon unbuckles his own seatbelt to follow you.

Terse silence sits between you, the aggravated stomping of your feet as you climb the stairs the only thing that fills the sound.

You turn sharply round the corner, stalking off to your apartment door. “You don’t have to escort me y’know, I’m perfectly capable of getting home by myself.”

“Really?” He folds his arms and leans on the wall next to your door. “It’s hard to trust you when you go off getting drunk and throwing yourself at a random stranger in the club.”

“Is that what the problem is?” You finally ram the key in, and the click as it unlocks is as harsh as your tone. “Sorry to break it to you, but I have a life apart from you. He’s no stranger. His name is Dong-In, he’s Yeri’s friend, and he’s a great guy.”

You shove the door open. Your heels get kicked off and left haphazardly at the entryway, shoe cabinet ignored.

“Wow, some great guy he is,” Namjoon slams the door shut and his shoes get discarded off his feet in the same fashion, “drunkenly feeling you up in a club.”

“Fuck!” You turn, wringing your hands in your hair. Your glares rival each other. “You say it as if I was strung along by him. Well I wasn’t. I initiated it.”

His glare flickers for a moment. He stays silent.

“Just admit that you’re jealous,” you whisper. You unsling your purse and dump it on top of the shoe cabinet, never breaking eye contact.

“Fine.” Namjoon’s gaze doesn’t waver. “I am.”

He skulks forward and traps you between him and the cabinet, gaze holding yours. Namjoon’s always towered over you, but at the moment it isn’t his height that makes you feel tiny.

“Watching his hands all over you like this,” Namjoon’s hands slowly skim the back of your thighs and up your sides and you bite back a whimper, “makes me jealous.”

“And watching you respond like this?” He continues as a firm hand presses the small of your back to close the gap between your torsos. “Glued to him like this? It makes me jealous.”

“You don’t own me,” you whisper but it only elicits a sardonic laugh from him.

“You say that, but you know damn well that’s not the truth. Tell me. Are you jealous?”

“What would I-”

“Yeri.” Damn. Straight through the bullshit. With an eyebrow cocked, it’s obvious he knows the answer and he’s not budging, not even an inch.

“Yes,” you admit quietly. “I’m jealous.”

“Silly girl.” He traces the hemline of your dress. “I only want you.”

A soft keening noise spills out of you. “I’m so sick of holding back.” You tug on his dress shirt, and the feel of his plush lips finally, finally meeting yours snips the final frayed cords of self-restraint you possessed.

Namjoon is quick to reciprocate, and you moan as his tongue licks at your bottom lip. Hooking your arms around his neck, you pull him closer, needing nothing else but to have him close after all this time of distance. He hoists you up, and your legs circle his waist to aid him. The world around you sets into motion as he walks you to your bed, and you anchor yourself by pressing kisses to his neck.

With how tiny your apartment is, it takes no time for him to carry you from the entryway to your bedroom. The cool sensation of your unmade sheets envelops you as he lowers you down onto the bed. He barely gets a moment to appreciate the sight of you, hair mussed and lipstick smudged, lounging on the bed and waiting for him. Desperate for his touch and running out of patience, you gesture to the zip on the side of your dress. Hurrying, he pulls the zipper down as you tug your arms out of the thin straps of the garment. You sit up and let the torso of the dress fall to bunch up at your waist, revealing your bare chest to him.

The quiet gasp that escapes him as he beholds you is infinitely flattering. It’s but a momentary pause. He dives forward into action again. An arm looped around your back to support you as your chest arches upwards, he crouches over you to take one perked-up tit into the heat of his mouth, his free hand coming up to toy with the other. His tongue laves over your nipple in a slippery flick. The other gets pinched and rolled, leaving you gasping at the delicious sensations.

“Namjoon,” you moan out breathily, and it only eggs him on. You whimper as he begins sucking on the bud and wetness pools between your thighs. Your fingernails rake down his back, muted through the layer of his dress shirt.

“M-more,” you plead. He releases your breast and moves his mouth upwards, trailing gentle pecks till he kisses along the length of your collarbone.

“Come here,” he commands, his words breathy and hot as they puff against the thin skin of your clavicle. He scoots back to lean against the headboard, and you follow hastily.

You clamber on top of him, knees bent and straddling his lap as he helps you hike the skirt of your dress up. But before you seat yourself atop the prominent bulge in the lightwash denim of his jeans, he holds you still with a firm grasp on your hip.

His thumb trails the lace detail of your panties, the patterns snaking across your hip bone, baby pink like your dress.

“Gorgeous,” he mumbles. His fingers wander to your clothed core, the material slightly sheer from the damp spot of your arousal. He strokes it tenderly with the pad of his finger, so light that it has you quivering as you hover above him.

His fingernail grazes your slit through the wet material and a gasp catches in your throat. You clench around nothing as carnal desire throbs through your core.

“Namjoon, please,” you whine.

Finally, he gives in to you and pulls you down. Your laced core meets his rough denim-clad one. The stiff material of his jeans pokes through the delicate fabric of your underwear, the friction rough as he drags you over his clothed bulge. The burn is delicious. His hands on you set a slow but steady rhythm that you follow easily, canting your hips in time. It’s enrapturing to watch the way you grind on one another, your clit rubbing up on the apex of his bulge in mutual pleasure.

A finger tips your chin up from the sight you were fixated on.

“Eyes on me.”

It’s difficult. Pleasure has your eyes drooping shut. But the intensity of his gaze compellingly holds yours and you manage, even if barely. His expression is stoic, and it’s only the twitch of his dick that betrays how affected he is. You, on the other hand, are completely abandoned to pleasure. Hands scrabbling across his upper back and up until they settle themselves as fists gripping tufts of his hair, teeth clamped on your bottom lip as moans spill out of you at increasing frequency as your pleasure climbs and climbs and climbs until-

Burrowing your face into the side of his neck, you pant as you cross the peak. Hips now stilled, your climax has you throbbing against his hardened member. You cling onto him with your arms around his neck as you free-fall in the subsiding pleasure. Bare chest brushing against the smooth material of his dress shirt, you catch your breath and yield to the moment.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Shit.” Louder this time. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The regret in his words yank you out of the heady fog of lust. There’s no time to bask in the afterglow. Reality comes crashing down hard and mercilessly.

Suddenly, you feel so small and so exposed. You read his regret as rejection. Your nudity and previous salacious actions make you feel stupid.

Namjoon attempts to extricate your arms from around him, but shame has you clutching to him tighter, hiding your face in his neck. You can still feel him under you, but it’s now an uncomfortable reminder of the act you just committed.

“Hey,” his voice is gentle now, pleading, “look at me? Please?”

You refuse. It’s impossible to look him in the eye right now.

“Fuck.” Even whispered, the panic laced in his tone is blatant. Gently, he maneuvers both of you to turn over. Feeling the mattress underneath you as you’re laid on your back, you release your hold on him and swiftly turn and tug your blanket up to hide away from him.

“____.” He tries. You grip the sheets even tighter as you feel him trying to pull it away from your face. “Please.”

Embarrassment. Guilt. Mortification. They overtake you and you curl in on yourself. You just want to disappear.

“____,” he tries again, hand stroking your head. But you don’t allow yourself to succumb to its comfort. “Talk to me. Please.”

Oh, now he wants to talk.

Why couldn’t you have just talked things out earlier? Why only now when things have fallen apart? Why now when you’ve just done something so stupid and so reckless?

Why now when it’s too late? What can talking possibly do to fix this now?

His pleas are met with silence.

“I’m gonna get you some water,” he says resignedly.

More silence. He sighs. You feel the mattress shift as he gets up. From where you’re still hiding in the stuffy darkness underneath your blanket, you hear his footsteps return and the muted thud of the glass getting placed on your bedside table.

The silence returns, but you can feel his presence. You imagine he’s staring at your blanket lump on the bed.

Finally, the heavy quietness is broken with a deep breath, and you hear him say softly, “Get a good night’s rest, okay? Let’s talk about this tomorrow.”

The light clicks off and you’re plunged into lonely pitch-black darkness. In the distance, you hear the heavy opening and closing of your front door as Namjoon leaves.

Unearthing yourself to the coolness of the night, your dress an uncomfortable lump around your waist, your breasts slightly sore from his previous ministrations, you stare up at the ceiling as hot tears leak out.

It’s well into the afternoon by the time you drag yourself out of bed the next day. Sleep came intermittently and was far from restful, but waking up meant facing the nightmarish reality of what had transpired. So you hid under the covers for as long as you could. But you know you can’t stay there forever.

The buzzing notifications of your phone had woken you up on more than one occasion in the night. But you ignore it and leave your phone next to the glass of water - still untouched - in favor of washing up. It’s more pressing anyway, you surmise. You can feel your make-up, now icky and caked on your face. It’s awful. Your skin is probably revolting against you now and you don’t even want to think about the mess it probably left on your pillowcase. But last night, you were simply paralyzed by the weight of what you’d done, crying till sleep finally came for you.

You take your time going through an extensive skincare routine, even busting out the clay mask you had impulsively bought together with Yeri when it was on discount. You’re doing it because your skin needs the pampering and definitely not because you’re procrastinating getting to your phone.

But there’s only so many steps you can do with the limited skincare products in your apartment. And you know your friends are probably worried about your abrupt disappearance last night. Getting to those messages first, you quickly assure Soo-eun and Yeri that you’re safe at home. Looking at the remaining notifications, you sigh.

Missed calls Namjoon (8)

7 unread messages from 2 chats Namjoon: are you still sleeping? Namjoon: hey, you still asleep? Namjoon: text me when you’re up please? Namjoon: are you awake?

Dong-In: hey! Dong-In: not sure what exactly happened at the end there haha, but it was rly great seeing u again. Dong-In: i’m still waiting on that brunch reschedule, by the way.

Memories from last night come back to you. Dong-In runs his hands through his curls, an easy grin on his face as he leans in to listen to you over the loud music of the club. Things are simple with Dong-In. And, standing on the precipice of a mental spiral whenever you think of Namjoon, the same craving for simplicity from last night returns.

[2:06pm] ____: well it’s a little late for brunch right now

[2:06pm] ____: but you still up to grab a bite?

[theonlygamergost]

Gestures are louder than words - Fd!au

This fanfiction is based on the Family Dynamic au made by @antarctic-bay if you would like to know more, go check them out!!!

Also please bear in mind that the things written in this might not be canon!

Of course, this fic was grammatically corrected by the amazing @im-default

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To get a better context, read this first, if you don't want to, have a quick summary :)

Tommy comes back home in a very bad mood, Wilbur and Phil are concerned but end up making the situation worse, but Techno knows how to make Tommy talk : ASL (American sign language.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Warnings! Bullying, repressed anger, yelling, angst, hoo boy angst, crying, angst with a good ending, fluff and brother bonding moment :)

(The cursive and bold words are meant to be when they speak in gestures)

Enjoy~

“Ah, welcome back Tommy!” The inviting smell coming from whatever Phil was cooking welcomed him in just like his brother, both of which reminded him of his oopsie: He arrived home late.

Well… Phil did end his shift early, but arriving home after him for all of the brothers meant “they stayed out too late” since he always arrived home deep into the night.

“T-thanks...” Tommy sighed, Wilbur was on the counter, too absorbed into his algebra problems to notice him. Techno was nowhere to be seen but he wasn’t surprised, his door was closed so…you could imagine where he was, hint: when he wasn’t home his room’s door was open.

Closing himself in his room, he allowed his back to slide down the door until he sat on the floor, bringing his knees to his chest and squeezing them tight.

He wasn’t sad, he wasn’t crying, he was simply angry, hoo boy he was angry.

Taking a deep breath, he got up and sat at his desk, grabbing a notebook out of his backpack.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You go around with a plushie? Pff, what a child…” Tubbo reached out for his bee plushie “Give me Spins back!”, needlessly since another bully pushed him on the ground.

“Aw~ the doggy wants his toy?”

“Give. It. Back.” Tommy appeared behind the bullies, shoving one of them onto the ground.

“Oh my… the Ally of Justice, The Protector of the Weak!” one mocked him.

As a punch was about to hit the bully’s face, a teacher arrived and stopped both of them, blaming it more on Tommy than the real bully, sending them both home.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The music from his headphones brought him back to reality, scribbling down words for his English homework, god he was pissed.

How dare they bully Tubbo! And for his plushie Spins! Of course, he had already made a plan on how to get back at them, no one messes with his best friend without paying for it, yet he still couldn’t see that situation as a win for the bullies.

The teacher always saw him as the one at fault, he was the “Black Sheep” of the Pandel brothers, the disgrace of the fami-

A knock interrupted his train of thoughts, “Dinner is ready! Come wash your hands, you gremlin” came from behind the door, a distant “That’s kinda mean Will” accompanied it.

He sat at the table, one of the chairs was empty: Techno was missing, but what’s new? It was his habit to skip dinner, Tommy wondered if he would have skipped tonight’s one too.

“Techno! Food’s ready, come eat!” Phil half-shouted while serving the food, all of them stood quietly waiting for the response.

…

“Techno?” Phil took off the potholders and peeked into his room, a muffled “Kinda busy right now, I’ll come at the table in a minute” came his response.

Phil’s cuisine had always been better than restaurant’s in Tommy’s eyes, and the omelette with bacon and cheese he had prepared today was just like everything else he cooked: amazing.

Tommy once asked Phil where he had learned how to cook so well, his response was a simple “Mom and dad were both very good at cooking, you’d also be surprised how much you can learn from watching videos” kinda cliche, but fair enough.

“How was your day at school boys?” Phil asked after swallowing down a bite, Tommy gestured at Will to go first.

“All and all, my day went pretty well. Had a test but it was quite easy, Nikki and I also went to a bar and chatted ‘till it was time to go back, pretty chill day.” Wilbur nodded at his own thoughts and drank some water, then both of them looked at Tommy.

“What” He stared back, eyes flickering between the two brothers.

“So? How was your day?” Will encouraged him to talk, Tommy rolled his eyes. “Nothin’ special” he started, ”The history teacher scolded me for chewing a gum in class and…” after a deep breath and a couple of thoughts processed, “N-nothing else happened.” he decided to stay quiet. He couldn’t be bothered to explain the whole thing to them, especially since Phil could scold him for punching that dick-bag in the face, that would just put him in an even worse mood.

But of course, his brothers wouldn’t let that slide.

“Are you sure that’s all it happened? You don’t look like someone who had a “Nothing special” kinda day.” Will had always been curious, maybe too curious at times, Phil also nodded: They weren’t blind, they could see that Tommy wasn’t in a good mood.

“Oh come on Will, I was the one who lived my day, I’m telling you, nothing special happened!” Techno emerged from his room and grabbed a plate, no one really noticed him though. Tommy shoved a bite in his mouth to avoid saying more than he should.

“I know we are being kinda pushy Tommy but-” “Yes!!! You are being very pushy Phil!!!” At this point, he couldn’t hold it in, he wasn’t mad at them… but the rage he had suppressed before to avoid making a scene at school had to get out somehow.

“We are just worried about you Tommy! Show some appreciation!” Will stood up for Phil: the brothers didn’t like it when someone yelled at or didn’t treat their older brother well, many times Tommy had done what Wilbur was doing, but his mind wasn’t calm enough to think right now.

“Oh?! Worried?! For me?! If you would really be worried you would just LEAVE ME BE!!!” He turned around and slammed as hard as he could the door shut, the noise echoed through the Pandel house, then silence.

Tommy took his pillow and started punching it, letting the anger and tension out, after a couple of swings, he threw it to the other side of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the Pandel brothers ate in silence, each of them absorbed into their own thoughts about the same topic: Tommy.

“So…Who is gonna go talk to him?” Wilbur broke the silence. “It’s better if no one goes talk to him right now, you heard him, he wants to be left alone.” Will looked at Phil “But we can’t leave him in that state! We have to-!” the older one finished his sentence “Help him, I know, but talking to him now will only make things worse, so let’s wait until he comes out” He stood up and grabbed Tommy’s plate, Phil moved what he left into a small container. “And if someone should talk to him” He opened the fridge, “It should be Techno, he has more chances of talking to him without an immediate rejection” Wilbur stared at the food in his plate in defeat, Techno simply nodded and ate the last bite of omelette: He even might have an idea on how to approach him.

~~~~~~~~~

Tommy left his room as Techno entered his, to put up his plan he had to stay in the living room, so that’s what he was going to do.

He grabbed what he needed to study and sat at the very end of the counter, immediately focusing on the textbook in front of him.

After Tommy looked at Techno weird since he rarely studied in the living room, he opened the fridge and grabbed a glass, filled it with milk, and went back to the sofa where he had dropped off his switch, sitting down and plugging in the earphones, he started playing “Breath of the Wild”. Tubbo had already finished it and Tommy wanted to try it out, being too broke to buy it, Tubbo lent his out of pity.

“Techno can you help me with this?” Will approached the counter with his textbook in hand, the pen in the other hand was busy scratching his head “I keep getting the wrong result and I don’t know-”

“No” He replied without taking his eyes off of his textbook, “Awww come on! I need to do this for tomorrow!” Techno sighed and patted the seat next to his, closing his homework to make room for Wilbur’s.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Almost an hour had passed and Techno had both helped Wilbur, who was now doing other work next to him and had finished his own stuff, he stretched his arms and back gaining a smile from Phil who was also working on his old pc.

After pouring a glass of milk for the rest of the brothers, including himself, he drank it all down and flopped on the sofa right in front of Tommy, who looked up to see why the seat had moved and then went back to his game.

Techno sat in a more comfortable position and started to tap on Tommy’s leg with his foot to grab his attention.

At first, all he got was some annoyed sounds, then his legs were pushing him away, and finally, he got his attention.

“What?!” He barked, eyes fixed on his smirking face. For any other person, Techno simply started waving his hands around while mouthing words, but for Tommy that was way more, that was Sign language.

What are you doing? Tommy rolled his eyes and placed his Switch on his lap, I don’t want to talk right now, Techno snickered, As if you have a choice. The younger one sighed.

At the start of the year, Tommy wasn’t doing so good with grades, his problem was that he couldn’t remember anything no matter how hard he tried. Yet Techno had noticed how he could remember fighting moves (taught to him by Deo) and other stuff pretty easily, his solution? Sign language.

The sentences were very short to gesture and way easier to remember, like that, Tommy’s grades went up in no time.

As a consequence, Techno and Tommy were the only one in the house that knew how to talk in ASl (American Sign Language), so of course, they used it to share secrets or just to annoy Wilbur since he couldn’t understand.

They also used it to talk in the cafeteria to either insult each other without getting scolded or to have a normal conversation. It was their own special way of communicating and bonding over stuff.

I know that Will and Phil bothered you about your mood, but you seriously need to let it out, his body got stiff as a self-defence mechanism, Unless you want to become a ticking time-bomb and explode near someone you care about... again.

Tommy’s eyes widened at the flashback of him shouting at Deo for something he hadn’t done came back, he was so mad he insulted his dear friend heavily, it took him an entire week to make the guilt go away and another two weeks to muster up the courage he needed to talk to him again. Deo forgave him but… to this day, Tommy still hadn’t forgiven himself.

After a minute of zoning out, he started gesturing and mouthing again:

Two students started making fun of Tubbo and I intervened, I punched one of them but… Techno’s arms were crossed as he was reading what Tommy was saying, Let me guess Wilbur looked up from his textbook and saw Techno gesturing, he wanted to yell at them to use their voices so bad… but he had to endure it this time… for Tommy’s sake.

A teacher walked in just as you punched him, blamed it on you, and sent you both home? Tommy looked at the console in his lap and slowly nodded, Techno sighed and patted the empty space next to him, smiling at the blonde boy.

Tommy crawled to the spot and hugged Techno, who just embraced him tightly while caressing his back in comfort, and the bomb, slowly defused itself: Tommy started sobbing, letting his emotions out.

“I’ll help you avenge him tomorrow” Techno whispered just before grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around the both of them, “We’ll make them pay, I promise Tommy” Tommy nodded and got even closer to Techno.

A shaky “T-thank you…” was all that came out of Tommy’s mouth before more sobs took over.

Will, who saw the whole scene, shook Phils arm lightly, pointing at the younger brothers.

He smiled at them and looked back at Wilbur, who leaned to whisper in his ear “Let them be” to then pat his shoulder.

Wilbur looked back at Techno and Tommy and smiled too.  

[mingiswow]

Missing you | Ahn Hyejin

Pairing: gender-neutral reader x Hwasa

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Words: + 1k

⚠ English is not my native language, so pardon me if there's any mistake. And you can always tell me what's wrong.

⚠ Also, I don't even know how people text in English lol so sorry if it sounds ridiculous

Request: helloooo!!! im back to request another mamamoo x reader fic if thats alright with you since i loveeee ur writing🙃 This time may it be a idol!hwasa x bestfriend!reader? Could you make the beginning angsty due to the reader moving far unexpectedly/in a short amount of time which makes hwasa angry, and they leave messily or on bad terms? ~time skip~ The reader comes back permanently unannounced and surprises hwasa, and they finally feel that they no longer want to be "just friends" and possibly kisssssss or just have a super sweet/fluffy ending???

Sorry it took me so long anon but I hope you enjoy 💖

You couldn’t sleep the whole flight, your nerves getting the best of you. It has been months since you left Seoul to fulfill your dream to study abroad.

It has been months since you last spoke to her.

“what do you mean Europe?” you knew you should have told her earlier. Her, your best friend among everyone. The woman you unfortunately loved. “You’re going to another continent for months and you decided to tell me two days prior?” you could tell Hwasa was angry but could you blame yourself? If you had told her since you got the news she would want to spend even more time with you. Be the last days with you. And that would only make your heart ache even more.

“I wanted to tell you before but…” the voice got stuck in your dry throat, you had no valid excuse except for the fact that you loved her and leaving her behind would hurt you.

“I thought we were best friends Y/N…”

“We are! Hyejin please don’t do that. I know I was wrong for not telling you earlier, but I was afraid. Please understand me” you took a step closer. She took a step back.

You could feel your heart shatter in your chest, she was angry, and she had the right to be.

“Afraid of what? Hurting me?” you nodded, not caring to hold the tears anymore. “I got news for you Y/N, you already did”.

Those were the last words she ever said to you. And to be honest, it couldn't hurt any more.

Your phone started to buzz by your side, Wheein, her childhood best friend and also your friend, was the one sending you messages.

After you left Hyejin hasn’t spoken to you at all, avoiding your messages and calls. You gave up after a while, going to her friend to get some news about her.

📲 I’m already at the airport waiting for you.

Thx for picking me up

📲 no worries babe

📲 I'll take you to my house first, ok? So you can take a shower and rest

📲 I prepared some food too

awn ur the best ❤

thank u for taking care of me

You heard one of the cabin crew women announce the landing and within less than an hour you were stepping into Seoul's lands after months.

You searched through the crowd of people at the place looking for the familiar face, which you found holding a lovely poster with the words “welcome home cheater” and Moonbyul by her side. You ran to them, hugging their bodies tight and crying.

“I can believe you’re finally here!” the youngest told you with a smile, holding your shoulders and looking at you like a mother. “You’ve changed… but for the good. You look amazing”

“You mean tired” you joked with her, you probably looked like trash after hours inside a plane.

“Just a few bags under the eyes but nothing like a nice and warm shower won’t help” the eldest smiled, helping you with your bags. “welcome back kiddo”

The three of you grabbed your stuff and headed to Wheein’s house. The ride was fun, the girls were filling you with questions and more questions about the country you were in, the people, the culture, they sounded like little kids and it helped you get your mind out of Hyejin.

“Go take a shower first, then come to the kitchen” the singer said as soon as you arrived at her place. Nodding and thanking her once again you headed to the well-known guest room where you used to crash when you went to parties together or when you got too drunk to go back to your apartment.

You let the warm water hit your head and shoulder, releasing some of the tension held there. You knew that, at some point, you would have to confront her, to talk to her, but you were too afraid she wouldn’t want to even after all these months. After all, she never answered your messages.

After drying your hair and putting on some comfortable clothes, you headed to the kitchen, distracted by your phone. “Tell me you made me s-”

“Hi” you stopped in your tracks and words when you saw her in front of you, standing in the middle of the room.

“Hi” came as a whisper, your heart beating louder than your actual words.

“I think I owe you an apology” you shook your head, denying. “No, I do. I was so childish for not understanding you and for not answering you all this time”

“I-it’s ok” you managed to get out before clearing your throat. “I was very stupid for not telling you before. I… I was afraid to tell you”

“Why?” you looked at her, your eyes always looking at the ground the whole time. “Why were you afraid to tell me you were finally fulfilling your dream to study abroad” the woman took a step closer to you. You didn’t move.

You didn’t know what to say or how to say anything without spilling your true feelings. “You know… While you were away I took some time for myself, to think about everything”

“It was good?”

“Yes. I realized a few things” you nodded, a sign for her to keep talking. She took two steps closer to you. “I realized that I got sad because I couldn’t spend your last days with you properly like you deserved. That I felt betrayed and unworthy of your trust. Did you not trust me? Wasn’t I your best friend?” Hwasa took a deep breath, getting right in front of you. So pretty. So close. “But then I realized I wasn’t your best friend. I would never be… because you don’t see me like it. And that’s ok because the most important thing I realized is that I don’t see you as mine either”.

Your mind was racing, traveling all over without knowing what to think or what to tell. What was she trying to say? It was what you thought it was?

Before you could say anything, her hands held your face in place so she could touch your lips with her soft ones. It felt like you were on cloud nine, in some kind of fantasy movie or even a dream, and if so, you didn’t want to wake up.

She broke the kiss, a smile on her lips that were touching yours seconds ago “I don’t see you as my best friend because I like you more than that. And I’m sorry I was such a bitch with you and letting you wait”

“Don’t worry. It was definitely worth it” it was your turn to kiss her, this time enjoying, even more, the touch of her skin on yours. “By the way, I like you more than a friend too”

“You owe me five bottles of soju. I told you they were in love” you heard Wheein screaming at the kitchen with Moonbyul, making you two laugh before sharing another kiss.

Being away for a while wasn’t so bad after all.

Requests are open (even tho it might take me some time to answer lol)

[ijustwant2write]

First and Last-Robb Stark x Reader

(GIF credit to @hvitstark)

Tags: @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight

Requested by anonymous: 'hi! first of all, your stories are amazing and i love them so so much! now, i hope im not bothering you, idk if you're still taking requests or not, but if you are can you pls write something where the reader is the youngest daughter of a powerful lord and he has come to winterfell to discuss marrying her to robb? this can either be pre-canon (so robert hasn't come north yet) or in some sort of au where nothing happens and all the starks are alive and well :) thank you so much!'

Characters: Robb Stark x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Mention of smut, self doubt, arranged marriage, fluff

(A/N: I MISS WRITING FOR GAME OF THRONES, MY BABIES)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

There was a buzz around Winterfell castle as the final touches to preparations were made. The (Y/L/N) family were as noble as the Starks, and as it was their first visit to Winterfell, there had to be a good lasting impression. Catelyn and Ned were overseeing the servant's, trusting that their children's nannies or advisors were making sure that they were ready for such guests, they were not to make a fool of the family.

"I've heard that the women are all trained to be warriors since birth." Theon told Robb as he was being dressed in his finest clothes.

"From who?" Robb asked, raising an eyebrow at his friend.

"Wouldn't that be something? No wimpy, defenceless woman that constantly seeks your help, or spoils fun things such as hunting."

Robb knew his friend had only heard such rumours, though was still intrigued."She is a lady, I doubt she would have been near any fighting."

"Their women are strong Robb, proper Northern lasses. They are interesting, not like some of the ones who have visited before."

"They were boring to you because you couldn't even lay a finger on them."

He chuckled."In them more like."

Robb ignored Theon, he had always been so vile when talking of women."I wonder what they're here for. Father hasn't mentioned anything, I don't think he knows either."

"You can't be serious?" Theon scoffed. He gestured for the servant dressing Robb to leave now that he was finished."Come on, think about it."

"Just tell me."

"They've got a daughter, a year younger than you. Now, what do you think that means?"

Robb's eyes widened."No, no, father would have told me about it first-"

"Technically, nothing has been said about any marriage. Maybe that's what Lord (Y/L/N) is here for, not just for a friendly visit. And your father might not know about it yet."

Panic set into Robb's mind. His father had warned him that marriage propositions would be made, especially since he wasn't betrothed to anyone from a younger age. However, it was a small thought to him, most of his teachings had been about how to be a good lord. But having to face it was a completely different feeling. Perhaps Theon was wrong, his father hadn't even hinted at the idea. Now nervous, he took his cloak, wrapping it around himself before leaving his room, and maybe even meeting his future bride.

The pair made their way to the courtyard, hearing that the (Y/L/N) family were to be arriving very shortly. Robb's palms were beginning to sweat in his gloves, the mere thought of marriage making him dizzy. As he stood with his siblings, he ignored the fussing his mother made over them, making sure they were presentable.

(Y/N) made sure her hair was still neat and her braids were still tight in her hand mirror, damning the bumpy road beneath their carriage. It didn't help that her hands were shaking too, though she only noticed this when her mother took the mirror away, replacing it with her own hand.

"Relax (Y/N)," her mother calmed her, giving her a gentle smile,"we will be right beside you."

"He's not going to like me."

"And why's that?"

"He's probably heard all the rumours about how our women are these amazing fighters that aren't afraid of anything, and I'm the absolute opposite."

"For starters, we do not have all these women that go into fighting for the sake of it, you know that. And he doesn't know that your father is proposing this agreement."

"Have you met him?"

"No darling."

"So you don't even know what he looks like, let alone if he is kind?"

"The Starks are a wise, merciful and kind family. I am sure that his parents have raised him well. Their people seem to love them."

(Y/N) went to ask her mother another question, but was interrupted by the shouting of guards. They had arrived. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as the carriage slowed down, willing it to keep moving just a fraction longer. When it stopped, she hid her panic well from her mother, though a mother's instinct could always sense when her child was scared.

Lord (Y/L/N) had been riding up front for the last few miles, and was announced first as he dismounted his horse. He smiled as he approached Nedd, firmly shaking his hand.

"Lord Stark, it has been many years since I last saw you." he started.

"Yes," Nedd began,"in fact, Robb has only just been born."

(Y/N) heard his name, her heart beat thumping in her ears.

"Well, there are a lot of greetings to be made. My wife," (Y/N)'s mother was assisted out of the carriage, and (Y/N) heard her meeting the family,"and my daughter, (Y/N)."

As she emerged from the carriage, she hadn't expected how silent it would be. Everyone was watching her. (Y/N) carefully stepped out of the carriage, gripping onto the foot man's hand. She joined her parents, curtsying to the Starks.

"Thank you for opening your homes to us, it is a pleasure to finally meet you."

"And you Lady (Y/N). I am sure you have inherited your mother's beauty, and your father's wisdom." Nedd could see the young girl's hands were clasped together, stopping them from shaking.

"Not sure how much of that is left." her father joked, relieving the tension.

"Let me introduce you to my family," Nedd walked down the line, each curtsying or bowing,"my wife, Catelyn, who you already know, my eldest Robb, Sansa, Ayra, Bran and Rickon."

It was all too surreal for (Y/N). Here she was, facing the man that could become her husband and he had no idea. She tried to look at him, take in his details without staring, meaning she couldn't do it for long. Robb was also looking at her, dreading when her father would make the suggestion. Something deep in his gut told him that Theon was telling the truth, that perhaps a proposal was on the cards.

"He doesn't need to show me around Winterfell!" (Y/N) protested as she got settled into her room.

Her father sighed."(Y/N), I don't have to do this, but I am giving you a chance to get to know the boy. I could easily just throw the suggestion in their face."

"I know but...father I have a bad feeling about this."

He stopped her pacing, holding onto her hands."You will be fine. You're smart, so you know how to strike up a conversation. You're just nervous."

"Yes, I am. Father, you wouldn't make me marry someone who...someone who would hurt me, would you?"

"Of course not! If I believed the Starks were bad people, then we wouldn't be here. But this family is one of the strongest there are, and believe me, I've never seen a more honest family. You are safe here, and you will be loved."

(Y/N) walked out of her room feeling no less scared. She knew Robb would be going through the same struggle, though it didn't help her. Her footsteps were slow, too slow, her body knowing that she didn't want to go. Robb was exactly the same on the other side of his home, arguing with his mother before she forced him to leave his room and meet the girl, even if they weren't going to be married; in future, she may be a close ally. They were now stood at either end of the same corridor, freezing at the thought of having to be by each others sides for the rest of their lives.

Readjusting their postures, they composed themselves before approaching each other. This was it, the first time they would be alone together, perhaps the conversation that would define their relationship.

"Lady (Y/L/N), have you settled in well?" Robb asked.

"Yes, thank you Lord Stark. Your home is very beautiful."

"Please, my father is Lord Stark. You may call me Robb."

"And you may call me (Y/N)."

A good start, though many people dropped formalities when they weren't the people in charge. Robb offered to take her around Winterfell, which she politely accepted, racking her brain to think of topics to speak about. The small talk continued, until Robb started getting bolder with his questions.

"I've heard that your armies are full of women, that they are trained to fight since birth."

'Of course this question came up' (Y/N) thought.

"We do have a number of women. It is an extremely old tradition. Our lands did not have as many people as they do now, so when enemies would strike, everyone had to fight. And as the ears have gone on, we've kept that tradition alive, though there aren't as many women as there used to be."

"Are you trained in any weaponry?"

(Y/N)'s voice dropped."No. Ladies aren't allowed to."

"Oh." she hated the look on Robb's face, his expectations being dissapointed."That's understandable. Though my youngest sister, Arya, she does not abide by those rules."

"She doesn't?"

"No." he chuckled."A needle is far too small a sword for her liking."

They stopped walking, looking over the wall of Winterfell. (Y/N) was used to similar views back home, it wasn't too different. The noise of the people distracted her, and she turned around, watching them go about their lives. These were the faces she would be seeing almost everyday, if Robb and Nedd agreed to their marriage. And with dinner approaching faster than she liked, the answer was looming closer and closer.

After their walk, Robb had escorted (Y/N) back to her room to change for the meal that night. In his own room, Theon was there once again, prodding at Robb, wanting to know everything and more.

"So, what do you think?" Theon asked.

"I still don't know her very well. I can't make a judgement on her yet."

"OK, then what about how she looks?"

"She is a beautiful woman, but that doesn't mean I'll immediately like her."

Theon raised an eyebrow."But it helps."

Robb nodded."I guess so."

(Y/N) praised her handmaid as she finished her hair, calming slightly once she was satisfied with how she looked. Her mother entered the room, sighing as she saw her daughter fretting. The handmaid was dismissed, making (Y/N) realise that her mother was there, impulsively running to her; they shared a tight embrace, (Y/N)'s hands shaking as she clutched on.

"I don't think I can do it." (Y/N) breathed out.

"Yes you can. This is part of being a woman. You can do this, and we have chosen a family that will love you, they'll keep you safe."

"Mother, he doesn't like me, I just know it."

"He will. Everyone likes you."

Her mother knew that there were no amount of words that would ease her panic. All she could do was wipe away her tears, take her hand and lead her to the hall where dinner was being set. (Y/N) was stronger than she thought, and very likeable; she would fit into Winterfell just fine. It was Robb that was unpredictable.

"Father," Robb made a beeline to Nedd in the hall, desperate to speak to him alone,"may I quickly speak with you?"

"I know what you're thinking about." Nedd suddenly turned around.

"Well?"

"Well, we don't actually know if Lord (Y/L/N) wants an arranged marriage-"

"And if he does?"

"If he does, I shall speak to you in private, as will he with (Y/N). I presume that she doesn't know anything of it. Robb, I'll want to accept, but I need to be sure that you will too."

Everyone could feel the tension as they sat for dinner, Robb and (Y/N) having to sit beside each other. Their parents were in full conversations, the Stark siblings bickering already, whereas Robb and (Y/N) found themselves unable to start one themselves.

"Now," (Y/N)'s father stood, raising his cup,"I want to make a toast."

Everyone raised their own cups, knowing what his speech would include. They had been waiting all day to know what he wanted.

"Thank you once again for letting us into your home, it has been many years since my wife and I last visited, and actually, we were expecting (Y/N) at that time. But Winterfell has not lost its charm. We have been each others banner men throughout this time, and have fought beside each other in victory. I trust that our alliance is strong, but I am willing to make it stronger."

(Y/N)'s head started to spin, her chest tightening. She couldn't even look at her father. The words started to muffle, she couldn't be here to witness it. Without thinking of her manners, she mumbled under her breath, excusing herself as she abruptly stood and ran out of the room. She had no idea of the layout of the castle, running aimlessly, as if she could get away from this problem.

"(Y/N), are you alright?" She heard Robb call her.

She stopped, hiding her face in her hands, pure embarrassment stricken across it."I'm sorry, it's just..."

"I understand, it's a scary proposition."

"Yes, but I've known for so long."

"What?"

Her hands flopped down to her sides, using what bravery she had to face him."My father has been wanting this for so long. He loves your family, and not just for your power."

"There's something more to this."

"There's been another lord trying to marry me, but my father doesn't want me to marry. He told him we were already engaged. He showed up only last week. Robb, I would have told you if I thought I could."

"I understand."

"It's not fair that we've known for so long. My father can be a little dramatic at times."

"It's fine my lady, really."

"I know you need to discuss the answer with your father."

"You speak as if you know what that is."

"After today I think I do."

"And why is that?"

"I'm not what you think I am. I'm probably the most boring women in my land, and I'm supposed to be the one leading them."

"Is this about the army of women?"

"You would be surprised how many men don't like me after hearing that."

"I'm not one of those men."

"You're not?"

"I mean, we know this decision is ultimately up to our fathers."

"I suppose so."

"(Y/N), I can't judge your personality or even your own judgement, since we've only known each other for one day. But seeing as we know what our future entails, I feel that we should be open to get to know each other."

"Thank you Robb, I would very much like that."

[sunsinrinn]

Secrets Part 10.

Bakugo x reader, Bakugo x Uraraka, Kirishima x Reader

language, angst pure fucking angst

Word Count: 1,248

Idea: Y/n has a secret to share with bakugo not expecting a secret from him. She leaves heart broken and attempts to move on. But how will she move on if her secret can no longer be hidden? She fakes a relationship hoping its enough to not expose the true origin of the secret. (This is a terrible summary but I cant say much without spoiling future parts. 🙃)

You back track, “But I still love you too!”

Kirishima lets out a sigh in relief.

And you looked confused as hell. ‘Why is he sighing?’

“A-aren’t you mad, Kiri?”

“N-no! Actually what I wanted to tell you something about that...

“I have feelings for him as well”

Well shit. You both love him. Does that mean he doesn’t love you you though?

“Look at us, in love with the same man.” You say shakily attempting to hold back tears.

“But we still love each other right?” He asks with an equally shaking voice.

“Oh baby, I will always love you! How could I just stop loving you?”You pull Kirishima closer. “Look at me, I will never stop loving you, but I also love Bakugo. Nevertheless, You were there for me in all of my hard times and I want you to be here for our future. I want to continue to build a future with you.” He nods his head in agreement and pulls you in relieved that he wasn’t going to lose you.

“So, what do we.. what do we go about Bakugo...” he whispers

“I don’t know... We can’t tell him because obviously he is going to freak out.

“ If we tell him anyways, he will probably choose you in the end. If it does come to that. Just know I will let you go so you can be happy.” He says and you pull away angrily.

“I WILL NOT FUCKING LET YOU GO! Fucking understand that Kirishima, you made my life better, I can’t lose you!” You say in tears and kirishima pulls you in again and just holds you tight.

Finally you both pull away and wipe your tears.

You sniff and say out loud, “We should clean up a bit before Bakugo comes home and notices somethings off..”

“Yeah...” Both of you get up and head to the bedroom to fix your tear stained faces.

Bakugo is finally able to go home after a day of patrolling and paperwork. He is content as he walks home still thinking of what happened during lunch today. Once he finally makes it to the house he knocks on the door before entering to make sure you and Kirishima knew he was home.

Instantly, once he notices that you’re are sitting alone in the living room and kirishima is in another room, that something is wrong. He won’t mention it but knows it has to do with earlier today. He has a sliver of hope that you might want him back but dismisses it so he doesn’t feel guilty.

“Hey Y/N, I’m back” he says

You look up from your phone and give him a fake smile, “Hey Bakugo! How was the rest of your day?”

“It was okay, was stuck with paper work after lunch” he says rubbing his neck, “Where is kirishima?”

“I think he might be in our room” you say unsure not looking at him anymore.

He nods and walks to his room, “Alright” and leaves you alone.

During dinner, he notices the tension between you and kirishima. Which makes things very uncomfortable. He tries to make conversation but it dies down. He just decides to stay silent for the rest of dinner. He tries to eat quickly so he can leave the tension filled table.

As soon as he is in his ‘room’ he sits there confused as to why you guys were acting this way. Was is because of something he said at work? Did he cross a line? Or was it because you both remembered what he did to you?

Then he remembers about his baby. And he becomes pissed himself.

He then thinks of when shall be the right time to ask you or if you were going to even fucking tell him. Then he decides what to do.

He hears a muffled conversation on the other side of the wall and tries to not listen but does manage to hear a few words like confessing, the baby, he sits up at the mention of the baby and tries to listen on but suddenly you both stop talking.

And with that he goes to sleep.

As the weeks pass by you are looking even bigger and you are a week away from giving birth which means you rarely go out so no one suspects you even avoid Bakugo which makes it hard for him to confront you,

You mostly stay in your house and even decline hanging out with mina because she will murder you if she found out you lied about the kid.

People don’t notice and just believe you have gotten more exhausted as you ‘grew’

You don’t even go to buy groceries, Kirishima and Bakugo go for you. Honestly, you and kirishima believe Bakugo doesn’t even notice your huge belly, oh he does. He also noticed the tension between the both of you is slowly diminishing.

Finally he finds you in the kitchen and corners you on a day he has off.

You look startled at him and nervously laugh.

“So... what a lovely day right?” You say nervously.

“Y/N, I want to talk to you about something that has been bothering me.”

You gulp nervously and begin to feel your heart rate speed up, “okay...”

“I notice you look a bit too big to be 6 months pregnant.”

‘Shit’

He continues when you dont answer,

“Which means you are either lying about how long you have been pregnant, or you are carrying fucking triplets.”

You continue to stay silent, which frustrates bakugo making him raise his voice.

“TELL ME Y/N! Are you fucking lying?”

You get scared and gulp, “I have no clue what you are talking about.”

“STOP FUCKING WITH ME Y/N! I KNOW YOU ARE LYING! I HEARD YOU! THAT IS MY FUCKING KID! NOT KIRISHIMA’S! I JUST WANT YOU TO FUCKING ADMIT IT! I FUCKING LOVE YOU, WHY CAN’T YOU JUST BE HONEST WITH ME!” By the end of that he tears up and you are just terrified for you life that he found out but continue to deny it.

“I have no clue what you mean, bakugo.” You say trying to be calm and ignore the pain deep down in you.

“STOP FUCKING LYING! PLEASE FUCKING ADMIT ITS MY KID. I WANT TO BE THERE FOR THEM! DONT TAKE THAT AWAY FROM ME!”

You see him fall to the floor and you are petrified because you have never seen him like this. It wasn’t like him to cry or show emotion, which scared you even more.

Before you could answer you feel another pain and cry out. Bakugo looks up and sees you clutching your stomach as liquid falls down.

‘Shit.’ He thinks as he scrambles up, to look for the keys of your almost never used car. Once he finds them he rushes over to you and carries you to the car and calls Kirishima.

“Bakugo, what’s wrong?”

“ITS Y/N! SHE’S IN PAIN, IM TAKING HER TO THE DOCTOR!”

You let out another scream of pain and Kirishima just begins to yell at Bakugo to speed you over to the hospital.

“Hurry the fuck up Bakugo! She’s in fucking pain! What caused her to become hurt anyways?”

Bakugo stays silent at the question.

“Bakugo. What. Caused. Her. Pain?” Kirishima asks angrily.

“I may have yelled at her about the pregnancy. And accused her of lying.”

After he finishes that sentence Kirishima growls and hangs up.

‘Well shit.’

SERIES MASTERLIST — Part 11

A/N- i hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Lots of angst, lmao, another little cliffhanger, honestly whats a good story with out those. Anyways Bakugo is a lil bitch and will probs be murdered by kirishima.

If you’d like to be tagged in future parts or future works dont hesitate to dm, ask, or comment! I hope you guys had a lovely day today! Also if you asked to be tagged and I didnt tag you send me a dm so I can fix it :)

Secrets taglist- @hero-ink-pillar , @silentw-lkr , @ushiwakatrash , @purple-rabanito , @chaelysian , @puppycat714 , @fake-id-69 , @adaydreaminganon , @jessie9008 , @sam-i-am-1025 , @purple--nebula , @curiouslilbeast , @httpswwwtbhkcom , @setup-the-ace , @chanultis , @kit-kat428 , @thatonefangirl722 , @fxirylightsx , @katsuki-bakubae , @sakurakatsuki , @whatishappinesswhatislove , @wannabedaphne

[itsyourbby]

Hello! Can I get headcanons for Tokoyami accidentally overhearing his crush practicing how they'll ask him out late one night in the common room? Thank you in advance! ♡

Sure thing babycakes! ☺️

You took a deep breath and went through the words in your head again. You couldn’t believe what you were going to do tomorrow but you knew you had to do it. Ever since you met him you couldn’t get him out of your head , which really means something.

At first you thought that it was normal to think about a person a lot. Heck you thought about your idol a lot and you wouldn’t say you were obsessed. But when it comes to tokoyami and the thoughts that go through your head 24/7 then yeah... your obsessed with him.

From asking yourself how it would feel to cuddle with him to how his feathers would feel. You couldn’t get a single ounce of sleep after realizing you had a fat crush on him.

“Tokoyami fumikage since the first time I layed my eyes on you I couldn’t get you out of my head, you’re like a fever that hit me like a truck.your on my head 24/7 and I can never get an ounce of sleep because you’re always in my head. What I’m trying to say is that I...I...like you..”

You cursed at yourself mentally for stuttering at the end. You didn’t want him to think that you were a pathetic loser for being obsessed with him!

“What am I thinking...he’s going to turn me down..” your hand tighted at the glass cup you were holding. You weren’t going to lie , you were afraid of rejection. Simply getting humiliated by a simple no seemed to make your mood worse.

Shaking your head you quickly got a glass of water and chugged it down trying to get the idea of rejection out of your head..

‘Even if I did get rejected that won’t affect me in any way!’

Once you realized you finished your water your eyes went to the corner of your eye hearing a thud.

‘Shit...is someone here?!’

You would of thought that no one would be awake around this ungodly time.you made sure no one was awake!

You slowly turned your head to the sound you heard. And didn’t see anything , well you thought. You wouldn’t say your eyesight was 20/20 so you can’t really rely on them when it comes to the darkness.

Letting out a small sigh you made up the fact that maybe something was misplaced by kaminari or mineta and it fell.

You stood there for a good 5 minutes to make sure it wasn’t a person who was actually there, you didn’t want to get made fun of for practicing your confession in the middle o the night! It would harm your reputation. And it might make you look weird in the eyes of tokoyami.

Getting suddenly tired you Slowly tip toed to your dorm trying not to make to much noice for your classmates or teacher to hear you.

Once you were inside you let out a tired yawn and fell to total darkness.

The next day soon came and the only word that can describe how you were feeling right now was nervous.

You still can’t believe that you were going to confess to him!

And nervousness was not a word to describe you, so when you came to class with a timid face and shaking hands your friends soon noticed your change in behavior.

“What’s wrong (y/n)?! You look so nervous, Was there a spider in the bathroom again?!”

Shaking your head you soon explained to them what you were going to do at the end of the day, they let out a sigh of relief and giggled at you for being nervous.

Class soon started which eased your nervousness a bit. You stole a few glances twords your crush and admired him for being so...perfect.

The way he graciasly moves along with his polite attitude just makes you want to tackle him with all of the love you have for him. Oh how much you just adore that boy.

Tokoyami eyes soon landed on you , his crimson eyes piercing right through yours made you shiver and quickly look away.

‘How embarrassing’

You felt yourself heat up at the fact that you just embarrassed yourself. You didn’t mean to stare at him for a long time! You just wanted to go through the reasons why you like him so much.

The end of the day soon came quickly. As you noticed the clock slowly ticking to the hour in which classes ended, your nervousness came jumbling up.

Flinching to the loud sound of the bell , you let out a cold sweat and collected your stuff from your desk. You had to hurry up before tokoyami left! You didn’t want all of this to backfire.

Once you were done with that you hurriedly walked towards the dark feathered boy.

Your hand shakingly lifting up to poke his shoulder very gently, you cursed at yourself for being so damn nervous.

“Oh (y/n)..” Tokoyami turned around and looked at you with his red eyes.

Eyes were soon on both of you as you couldn’t get your words straight out.

“I....can I...Ugh I lost my train of thought. Uhm...” your eyes went all over the place, as much as you wanted to stare into his beautiful eyes you just couldn’t. Even if you knew it was rude to not give eye contact while trying to confess you just couldn’t.

“T-Tokoyami fumikage since the first time I laid my eyes on you I couldn’t get you out of my head,”

You glanced up to him for a few seconds and realized that he slowly started to blush.

“you’re like a fever that hit me like a truck.your on my head 24/7 and I can never get an ounce of sleep because you’re always in my head. “

You holded both of your hands together to try and calm yourself down, you knew you were to deep into your confession to back out now. Oh god what if he doesn’t like you?! What if he accepts your confession just because you look like such a loser?? What if he takes pity on you..?

“What I-I’m trying to say is that I...like you..”

“So you were the one saying that last night..”

Your eyes widened at what he just said. You would of thought that the sound you heard last night was a stupid cup falling from the counter! But instead it was him?! he was there when you were practicing??!!

“I...you were the one listening in?! “You questioned with a face of worry. Now you just knew he was going to reject you.

“I wouldn’t have thought it was you (y/n)..I-I find it hard to believe that it was you..since you always go to bed early and since you don’t seem to be interested in no one...”

Your hands went to both sides of your face, your face felt cold as your realization soon went through your thick skull.

‘HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT IM FUCKED IM FUCKED’

“I....um..well.....you see-“tokoyami soon got cut off by a voice you recognized.

“What this emo is trying to say is that he likes you too.”

Everything got quiet as your face suddenly faced him.

“I..you-you like me?!”

“dark shadow what the hell !! “

Your eyes laid on his face once again and both of you blushed even more.

The guy you’ve been admiring from afar likes you?! He likes you?! It’s impossible! He never seems to make it obvious that he has feelings for you! Instead your clown self made it so damn obvious that you did! almost everyone in the class knew!!

“Ahem...I like you too (y/n). And to be very honest your confession last night was very adorable in my opinion.”

“I can’t get the idea of you out of my head either, I’d always try to convince myself that maybe it’s because I look up to you but realization soon struck me and I simply accepted the fact that I...like you..”

His crimson eyes glanced to the corner of his eyes to try and hide the huge fat blush he was trying to hide from you.

‘How embarrassing!’he said through his head , to have thought that he would act like this while trying to confess to the person he’s been head over heels for is crazy! He’d always thought that he’d be the one to confess to you and that you might reject him but oh how deeply wrong he was.

You embraced him with a hug.

Not even thinking about what would happen if you hugged him went through your head. Just the words “hug him” came to you and you did it like a reflex.

You felt him tensen up but the tension soon melted away as he hugged you back.

“I thought you were going to reject me for how pathetic I am...” your cheek was on his shoulder which made your sentence come out muffled . ‘He smells like Raspberries!’

You just couldn’t help it but melt into the hug.

“Ha, i thought you were going to reject me! I was worried that you wouldn’t see me the same if I did”

His grip around you tightened, his face was on your shoulder taking in your scent, he couldn’t believe that this was happening! He just wanted to jump in joy that he finally had to courage to confess to you...although you were the one with the courage to confess first...

A smile was plastered on your face , does this mean that...you guys are.....dating?

“I could never! I adore you to much to reject you.”

“D-does this mean that we’re.....” that question came out of your mouth too quickly, geez you didn’t want to sound desperate or something but the question was slowly but desperately killing you.

“I guess we are...” his face came off of your shoulder to look at you face to face. His hand went to your chin to face him.

Your eyes widened at his soft move.

He stayed like that for a few minutes before opening his mouth.

“Have I ever told you that I get lost into your gorgeous eyes?”

M

[sammysnaughtygirl]

the way you treat me

Fandom: Walker (TV 2021)Rating"R Warnings:adult content Characters: Cordell Walker (Walker TV 2021), Grace& Emily Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Walker Bingo, Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Shameless Smut, Crossover Pairings, - Fantasy Summary: cordwell walker uses blackmail against rival Grace

Square Filled"blackmail,Angst cordell walker ,had had a bad day at work ,his face was smeared with redness as he had just bumped into an old friend and found out that she too was now a texas ranger and he couldnt understand what she was up to why she had joined the force why she had come back to town without informing him if made him fume with anger ,G race was cordy,s longtime friend but before she had left town without letting him know she was leaving they had become more than friends so he thought now he just didnt want to see her at all.his mind wondering what had sent her packing had also wanted to know what had brought her home cordell was so upset he just starting throwing things around the room shattering glass and smashing holes into the walls with his fist he was now in a new relationship with emily but if knew if he spent even just one moment with Grace he wouldnt be able to control himself because he knew deep down in his heart he wasnt over her so he made up his mind he just had to prepare himself for their reunion ,Emily had to be first he had to make himself keep her the focus of his agenda but he felt he knew it was gonna take all the power he had to do this. he snatched open the fridge and grabbed a beer before plopping into the chair in front of the tv he drank serval before heading off to bed his dreams were covered with images of Grace dancing thru out the night when he awoke he dressed in a hurry and dashed out for the office praying he was early enough that he wouldnt run into her as cordell was reaching for his assignment the door flung open and in a instant Grace came gliding thru it as if she hadnt a care in the world not even taking notice of cordell standing there glaring at her Grace stumbled into the bosses office and drapped herself in the seat asking what she needed to do for the day,she was handed an assignment the boss making it clear that she need to take charge and get to work immeditaly so she ripped the paper in half and stuck in her pocket ,out the door she went with no hesitation not looking to see her new partner might be as she reached the patrol car cordy stood beside the passenger side door with anger in his eyes omg Grace plurred out not you ,well im not happy about this either cordell shouted back to her its not my cup of tea to have to see you again. me, Grace was stung with his words why are you so mad at me ,cordell couldnt believe she would even ask him such a thing you left not explaining to me why or if you,d come back how was i to know you couldnt handle things what Grace asked she started to laugh at his gesture which made him grow angerier ,Grace could see hurt in him im sorry for not talking to you before i just took off but i didnt know how to deal with what was happening not just between us i had alot going on,so why didnt you come & tell me this did it make it better to shut me out to take the high road and just leave me in the dark? no it wasnt fair for me to leave without explaining to you why i had to im listening cordell said ,we cant do this now she told him we have work to do,oh i get it the old dodge the question routine, no it will just have to wait Grace said work has to come first sure cordell agreed as they both jumped into the patrol car this isnt uncormfortable at all Grace said cordell sneered at her without saying a word back the day grew long but they stayed silent after all they both were just not ready for real talk soon the day had come to end and they parted ways waiting for the right time to open the wounds she had left behind Grace didnt know exactly how much hurt she had caused. the next day she hoped things would look clearer but cordell wasnt going to make it easy for her he wanted answers he pulled her aside after arriving at work the next day ,we have to have to talk about it he said fine Grace followed him into

breakroom i need to know why you left he asked she looked at him her eyes were filled with tears i had to she told him but why ,why i dont understand he looked confused Grace nodded her head i know you dont ,Emily found out and she threatened you what,no way not possible cordell said she threatened me how ? she threatened to have your job she knew how much you meant to me still do actually ,stop it cordell pleaded i dont trust you anymore fine Grace told him ask her yourself she was afraid of the time we were spending togather she knew you had fallen for me too thats why she did it,she wanted to tear us apart and it looks like it worked your the one who walked away not me i would have never left you .i need to talk to Emily still dont believe me huH? cordell turned his back and walked out of the room,he stormed out of the building pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Emilys she picked up after just two rings hello ,Emily i need to see you now can you meet me at the square in an hour sure babe she told him what,s up nothing i just need to see you its important ok ill be there see ya soon bye she said,cordell got into his pickup truck and drove to the square where he waited for Emily to show up he sat in the middle of the square at a table directly facing the road so he could see her before she seen him ,the minutes went by quickly and before he knew it she was pulling into a parking spot he watched her as got out and started to walk over to his table he stood up as she approached him and he kissed the side of her check whats up anything wrong she asked him ,cordell shook his head you tell me he said why did you threaten Grace & me it was blackmail you know that right wait stop she nodded i can explain ,explain what how you took her away from me how this was all your fault?thats not what i meant Emily spoke i need to let you know why i did it i love you,no you just wanted what you couldnt have isnt that right you knew i loved her ,you knew how i felt about her and you didnt say a thing ,you probally knew she loved me as well is that why you did it ? i didnt mean to you didnt mean to what hurt me how did you think i was gonna react did you think i was gonna just fall into bed with you was that it ,Emily grabbed his hand i love you not her,cordell slowly removed her hand from his im sorry i dont feel the same yes you do i know you do she started to become violent and adutanted no i dont cordell tried to be calm with her as she was going off on him he decided it was time to just walk away as she tried holding on to him .you cant just walk away she cried as cordell fled,Grace was alone back at her moms old place and cordell knew he would find her there so he wasted no time after his meeting with Emily he knew now what had happened so he was headed to comfront her once again ,when he reached the porch of her house he started to feel those old feelings surface as he knocked on the door Grace peaked out to see who it was can i come in he asked sure she lead him inside i talked to Emily really Grace said howd that go i know what you told me was true i was just mad and hurt im sorry for the things i said to you apology accepted ,she told him he stood there learing at her what whats wrong she asked how could do that to me ,cordell i told you no i mean really how could you just walk away knowing how i felt about you i didnt want to cause trouble for you i wasnt sure if you felt the way i did ,so i just gave in to her demands it was easier than being rejected by you ,how can you say that you know id never reject you,he took a step foward and placed his hands around to cradle her face im in love with you how could you not see that he leaned down and softly kissed her pink lips she could feel her body clinging to his every word i want to be with you not Emily .Grace was so excited she threw her arms around him and squezed him so tight as if she never wanted to let go the tension was mounting the heat from his touch made her dizzy,maybe we should move this to your bedroom cordell implied catching her breath yes maybe we

should he scoped Grace up his his arms and carried her to the bedroom bringing the door shut with his foot he dropped her on the bed gently and drapped himself over the top of her and leaned in glancing her over before brushing a kiss against her lips ,standing to his feet he lifted Grace and slowly undressed her his hands once again found her mouth tracing the outline of her lips with his fingertips ,moving back on the bed cordell slide his hands down her body tracing her outline it made Grace tingle with every touch the two conitnued on to make sweet love and ended the night falling asleep moments later being at peace with one another embracing their newfound love .Grace dreamed that night the most beautiful dream ever .the way you treat me its the most beautiful thing i could ever imagine she had found what she was searching for cordell .

[archived-gtronpa-account]

hmmm while Im getting around to the reqs and asks here have an old oneshot I've had taking mold in my drafts for a couple months or so n pls enjoy

Fic of @sizeshiftingrobot 's au

Shifter!Leon

Word count: 1400

Summary: In the middle of a near panick attack, Leon's emotional shifting kicks in and causes him a world of trouble.

____

Fifteen highschool boys and girls stuck together in a killing game. Each having a motive to try to get out no matter the cost; a gruesome video to plant a seed of corruption in their frightened minds.

Leon paced around the dark hallways of the school. He'd seen his own video, bodies of his old team, mangled and battered to a certain death, then cut to show his little cousin, Kanon, alive but face bloody and swollen. A clear threat to get out pronto before things escalated. Hearing the gasps around the video room had confirmed that his video wasn't the only horrifying one, and far from the worst.

Sayaka had nearly fainted, Mondo had looked about ready to beat someone to death, Sakura looked positively strong too, and there was the possibility of Genocide Jack being among them. Someone was bound to start the killings. Leon had already let himself look like a weak, nervous mess. No way in hell he'd let himself be a victim, he still had a bright singer's carrier waiting for him outside, and he wouldn't let anyone crush his dream to save theirs.

His head hung low, eyes fixated on his feet, tapping on the cold ground faster and faster to the rythme of his racing heart. Maybe he could hide in his room until everything was over, maybe he needed to strike first. The crushing darkness threatened to swallow him, breathing was getting harder, more painful. He couldn't think like that, he couldn't bring himself to take someone's life, could he? Even if it was to save his own?

"Oh, my my~ what do we have here?" He frowned and looked up, but bumped head first into a wall.

"Ow..." Leon groaned, rubbing his forehead. He frowned, confused, and squinted his eyes at the wall of leathery black facing him. It took him about two seconds to realize what felt wrong; the voice he'd heard came from far too high. As he rapidely stepped back, it took him another second to realize the next thing that was off about the situation; the leathery black wall was a boot the size of a bathtub.

"Dammit...!" He hissed and craned his neck up. A massive, grinning Junko towered over him, looking down at him with a glint in her eyes he did not want to see. As if he wasn't enough of a target already, he had to screw things for himself and show his worst weakness. He should've listened to Kanon and worked harder to control his size-shifting.

"Hey, Junko! Don't say a thing, just let me explain- Ah!" He didn't get to finish his sentence. He saw the fashionista kneel down and reach a gigantic hand out towards him to snatch him up, a heartbeat after that, he felt an agonizing pressure on his upper body, knocking the air out of his lungs.

"Aww, what a cute little guy you are! So easy to just-" Junko made a squelching sound, the pressure around him increased, threatening to pop his lungs and break his ribs, "-off you."

He had to stay calm. He had to focus to grow out of the fist. Fear gripped Leon's body tight, tying his limbs up with an invisible rope he couldn't grow out of.

"L-Let... go...!" His head got sickeningly lighter. He saw the trunk sized finger around his neck get closer to his chin as he shrunk further under the pressure. Junko looked down at him with an amused smirk, like a a child testing how easy it would be to break her newest toy; there wasn't an ounce of pity in those large blue eyes.

He was going to pass out, and he couldn't do anything about it. He was going to be killed, and he couldn't fight back- He had to fight back. He couldn't die in some blond bitch's fist like an insect.

"Stop it!"

For a split second, Leon had thought the rush of heat and blood in his tense body was from the constricting grip around him, rendering him powerless. Turned out, it was a wave of rage, flowing through his veins like lava; and Leon was ready to erupt.

A familiar, comforting sensation overtook his body, the tension in his muscles loosened and was replaced with an almost ticklish tingling. The pressure around his body disappeared, leaving him to plummet to the ground. Focus! The tingling grew stronger, invading his body, shadowing any pain and any emotion.

The fall was short. His spine didn't crack and his head didn't explode. Leon tentatively opened an eye he hadn't realized he'd closed, and he found a midget Junko, standing a few feet below him and trapped between his spread out legs. He'd grown back to a safe height- even bigger than he wanted.

"Wh... What the hell? You bitch!" Still frightened and panicked, his hand acted on its own and slamed the small girl on the closest wall. It was so large it completely engulfed her torso. He felt her frantic squirming under his fingers. Junko, the girl who had almost become his killer seconds ago, who's grip was merciless and eyes cold, was looking at him with those same blue eyes wide with fear. A hot, choking rage still lingered in his body. No, he wouldn't lash out on her, but she had tried to murder him in cold blood so she at least deserved a taste of her own medicine.

Leon pressed his hand harder, until he felt the squirming body go still. His hand grew on the small form, larger and larger until he could barely see tiny feet and a bit of hair poking out. Junko was his only witness, so he could make a gruesome scene no one would be able to investigate without knowing his secret. The tingling in his body never faded. His head met the ceiling, he had to shift to a kneeling position before he got squeezed between four walls. If he didn't calm down soon he'd either break something or get seriously hurt, but he'd already started his handiwork. He only needed a few more seconds to make the perfect unsolvable case, to see Kanon again and save her, if only the muffled screams under his palm would die down...

"Guys! Are you alright?" Makoto rushed out of his room, gasps and monstrous creaks filled his ears. It all died down as soon as he scrambled into the dark hallway. He found Junko, leaning against a wall and clutching her chest, and Leon, crouching down, sputtering and coughing. He'd heard a crash, and the scene in front of him made it seem like they had been fighting, but there was nothing out of the ordinary that he thought could have made such terrifying explosion.

"Leon!" Makoto knelt besides him and rubbed his back, an attempt to calm his coughing fit and hysterical breathing.

"Hmph," Junko huffed, although it sounded like she was holding back a cough. Makoto eyed the girl; she looked like a shriveled mess, a stark contras to her usual impecable look. "You shouldn't trust this guy so easily, Naegi. He might be hiding one hell of a dark secret," she turned on her heels and staggered off, with a slight yet noticeable limp. Makoto was confused, but his attention was on the boy on the ground. Whatever had happend between the two seemed to have left him on the verge of passing out.

"Come on, Leon," he helped the taller boy stand up and let him lean against him for support. A quick trip to the bathroom to freshen up would do his classmate good.

Even leaning, Makoto noticed that Leon was much, much taller than him. And good lord, he was so heavy, it was hard for the shorter boy to even take one step with all that weight leaning on him. Well, he'd never met a baseball star in real life, so he supposed they were that much stronger and taller than an average guy like him.

____

Done! Looking alright already, I had fun with this one esp that unexpected part where Leon got murderous, I didn't plan for things to go that way! Just wanted a nice lil thing with the anxious boy being helpless and getting saved by hope itself, not an angry baseball star ready to kill. The pacing is kinda weird tho, but I don't feel competent enough to be able to fix it, so I'll just leave it as it is.

[imaginespplwrite]

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Hoseok (J-Hope)

Climbing (M) ✎ @im-too-old-for-bts ✎ An embarrassing moment from your past comes back to haunt you in the form of one of your cousin’s neighbours, Jung Hoseok.

Playing house Part2 Part3 Part4(M) Part5 Part6 Part7 Part8(M) ✎ @mak-baes ✎ it’s not like you’re hard pressed for cash, but there is that spring break trip you need to save up for, so why not grab your best friend and pretend to be a couple for some research study? what could possibly go wrong? (Finished)

Burn In Hell (She Said) (M)  ✎ @floralseokjin ✎ Hoseok’s taste is singular. That is his sexual taste. Singular only for humans. Being the lord of the underworld (his title… Seokjin wouldn’t be so happy), means his needs get taken care of instantly. Humans litter the place, soulless and trapped there for eternity. But then you rock up, in all your demoness glory (no title needed), and suddenly he wants a taste of his own medicine. Devil meets devil. Only you don’t fall to your knees so willingly…

Hot rod (M)  ✎ @kinktae ✎ a 1950′s inspired fic where greaser hoseok can’t keep his eyes, or hands, off the new waitress at his and his boys’ favorite diner. 

Just Practice (M)  ✎ @lamourche​ ✎ The second time you hook up with Jung Hoseok, he doesn't remember the first time. You're surprised. It was only a few weeks ago, and you were in a broom closet. That has to be different, right? (Well, not really, you'll learn.)

Photographs (you’re taking now)(M) ❀ ✎ @bangtan-sonyeondanope​ ✎ Snapshots taken from her life, her child’s, his life and his child’s. From happiness to grief, the path that took two broken pieces to form one bigger, kind-of-whole picture.

Jimin

Snap Decision (M)  ✎ @noona-la-la-la ✎ A chance meeting with a stranger at a bar helps you recover from a bad break up.

Locked in love (M)  ✎ @parkmuse ✎ Getting locked in the mall on Christmas eve isn’t ideal, but getting locked in the mall with your brothers best friend that you haven’t seen in a while? Well, it might have been alright if you didn’t have feelings for him.

Syndicate (M)  ✎ @jungkookiebus ✎ Your husband is the biggest arms dealer in Korea. It’s the night of the President’s Ball and a pre-planned hit on top government officials while Jimin is separated from you. Using what Jimin taught you, you successfully escape the resort and make it home to an empty house. It’s not too long after that a panicked Jimin finds you at home and shows you just how thankful he is that you’re safe. 

The Fuckening (M) ✎ @underthejoon ✎ Jimin falls for the cute girl in his class. One who’s just as big of a tease as he is.

Star Light, Star Bright (M) ✎ @readyplayerhobi​ ✎ Life has not gone exactly how Park Jimin imagined, and yet he can’t possibly imagine his life any different to what it is now. After six hard and stressful years, he’s now the happy owner of a degree along with being the proud dad of his little girl. But what happens when he meets you and his life is tipped upside down once more?

Physical (M)  ✎ @ppersonna​ ✎ you cant seem to escape the sexy fitness instructor that seemingly is everywhere you turn. it’s enough to make you irrational.

Masterlist

[katecarteir]

hc where Richie’s jokes suddenly turn super depressing and self-deprecating and the losers don’t understand what was going on until it’s too late ( it’s a failed attempt. no richie death)

i skipped over that first part somehow and ended up with this i don’t know. also you didn’t specify a ship so i did established canon reddie and really strong plot significant platonic stozier

Triggers: drug abuse, suicide attempt (as mentioned in the ask itself), so much angst, hurt/comfort

Something had been wrong with Richie for awhile. Eddie had definitely noticed him seeing withdrawn and distant. Maybe that wasn’t even the right words for it. Richie was still there, as much as always. Always right by his side, pressing up against him, still coming in through window and cuddling up him to sleep. But Richie was awake when Eddie finally drifted off and gone when Eddie woke up. 

Eddie’s usually touchy, loving and- frankly- horny boyfriend seemed to have slipped away. While Richie would never pull his hand away if Eddie went to hold it, or refuse a hug, or reject a kiss… something was still off. Richie didn’t make the move anymore and he always pulled back. 

Mike had even brought up the behavioural changes in Richie to Eddie one afternoon when Eddie went over to help feed the chickens. Commenting on how Richie had toned down at lot, gotten quiet, was making less inappropriate jokes had almost disappeared.

So Eddie started watching for that, too, and Mike was right. Jokes that might once have ended with “Eddie’s mom” or “Bowers’ ugly face” turned into jokes about himself. And Eddie didn’t fucking like it but he didn’t know what to do about it, either. 

Everything fell apart at a party, as things are tended to do

Things had been fine, Eddie didn’t get it. He couldn’t figure it out but suddenly his boyfriend was plopping down in his face and Eddie just knew something was wrong. 

Richie was too warm, way too warm. He was burning up to the touch everywhere his skin touched Eddie’s. Eddie had on edge about Richie for a few weeks now, there had been a change in him that Eddie had tried to just put out his mind.

Richie’s jokes had gotten a dark twist to them, and turned much more inwards. It seemed like more personal attacks on himself than they used to be, no more jokes about people’s moms or borderline offensive shit that made you cover your mouth so nobody would see you laughing. 

But now Richie was nosing into Eddie’s skin and he was so hot. It burned and Eddie’s stomach flipped over. 

“hey, baby, do you feel okay?”

Richie nuzzled closer to Eddie, while Eddie pets at Richie’s damp curls 

“Eddie, I love you. I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you, too, Richie. Are you sure you’re okay, you’re scaring me.”

Beverly stood then and mouthed something about going to get Bill, their designated driver of the night. Eddie couldn’t really care about that right now, he suddenly felt cold stone sober

Richie pulled back and his eyes were out of focus and he kept wincing in pain. His hand rubbed against his chest like it was aching. 

“Where’s Stan?” he asked suddenly, looking around seemingly lost. “I need Stanley.” 

Richie slipped out of Eddie’s lap and rolled himself onto the floor.

“Rich, Rich, baby, what’s happening?” 

“I need Stanley. Where is he? I’m dying, where is Stan?”

“What do you mean you’re dying? Rich? Richie?”

….

“RICHIE!” 

Beverly and Bill came rushing into area as Eddie was running his hands over Richie’s back as Richie was shaking on the floor and making small whining noises 

“we need to get him to the hospital” bill says immediately, just taking one look at his sweaty, pale, shaking form. eddie looks at him in utter panic. “what did he take?” bill asked him harshly. 

eddie shook his head. “i dont know i lost track of him a while ago. he usually knows his limit so much better. he said he’s dying, bill, what even.”

beverly was taking eddie off the ground and guided him away, mike and ben seeming appearing out of thin air to help bill pull richie up 

“i need stan, where’s stan, i need stan, where is he” 

Stan, of course, isn’t there. Stan had to have family time that night of all nights. Eddie bit down on his knuckles as he watched his friends half dragging, half carrying his boyfriend out to bill’s car.

eddie ended up with richie laying on him in the backseat. he runs his fingers through richie’s hair while richie keeps muttering to eddie about how much he loved him. the whispers and mutterings trailed off mid-sentence and the anixety in eddie’s chest jumped straight up to twelve.

“bill fucking drive faster i swear to fucking god if he dies i’ll fucking kill you with my bare hands”

(bill decided to just let that go)

several moments were a daze as they tried to get richie checked into the hospital and get ahold of wentworth and maggie and just try to figure it out before eddie’s stomach dropped more

“we need to get a hold of stan” he moves back towards the phone. 

they called the urises five times with no answer and eddie was crying again as he sat down and curled up to bill’s side. it was less than fifteen minutes before wentworth and maggie came rushing in and we ushered to talk to the doctors. 

wentworth was the one who came out and told them the news, as gently as he could. what it seems liked was in richie’s stomach, how he’d had his stomach pumped. that the doctors would do whatever they could but that everyone should be prepared for the worst. 

if eddie hadn’t already been leaning his complete body weight on bill he would’ve have dropped to the floor. as it was his vision blurred out for a moment and he was pretty sure he was going to throw up everywhere

“eddie, hey eddie we gotta go, eds…”

“DON’T FUCKING CALL ME THAT” eddie knew people in the emergency room were all staring at him, he didn’t fucking care at this point. “dont call me that, you don’t get to, not you, not, no.” 

they all agreed eddie should go in alone first. maggie was sitting in one of the chairs closest to the bed, holding onto richie’s limp hand. she got up and hurried over to wrap eddie up in her arms. 

“eddie, oh, eddie, my poor baby. what happened?”

eddie sobbed into her shoulder and held himself tight against her. this was a mother, this was love. he’d been showed this thanks to richie, he had this in his life because of richie. 

eddie pulled away from maggie and launched himself into the chair beside the bed. richie looked terrible and eddie choked hard on his heart. 

“richie, oh my god, richie, baby. why did you do it? fuck, babe. i- i love you. i love you. holy fuck, i love you. i hope you can hear me, i need you to know.” 

the other losers all came in one by one and gave equally tearful sobbing declaration of love and grief and sorrow. eddie asked each person every time they came into the room if anybody had gotten a hold of stan. they always said no. 

it pained eddie to think that richie was going to die and stan wasnt going to be there, wasn’t going to know  

eddie had his head resting on richie’s un-moving arm, eyes occasionally dipping shut before he forced them back open.

if richie was going to die tonight, there was no way eddie was going to be asleep and unaware when it happened.

it felt like hours had passed of gradual beeping from the motions keeping richie alive, showing that richie was alive. eddie clung to that sound, richie was hooked up to machines to help him breathe but he was alive. 

the was.the sun was starting to leak through the windows when stan finally bursts into the room, still wearing pajamas with a coat hastily thrown on. he’s hair stuck out at a thousand different angles. eddie had never seen the boy look less than perfect before in all the years he’d known him yet here he was, looking like an utter hot mess. 

“he was asking for you” 

stan makes some strangled noise in the back of his throat. “fuck, tozier, what the hell have you done?” stan knelt beside the bed and grabbed the hand that eddie wasn’t resting on. “come on, asshole, you’re not doing this. do you hear me? you’re not. you’re not going anywhere. if you go, i have to go with you and i’m not ready. we don’t leave each other behind, you traitor. you know better.” 

eddie felt the arm shifting under him and he startled away from his boyfriend. he stared, wide eyed, looking at the simple motion on richie’s face like he was trying to open his eyes. “stanley.” 

stan looks up from where he was staring blankly at richie’s hand in his grip and his mouth dropped open. 

“rich, richie, baby,” eddie cooed, bringing the twitching hand to his mouth. “can you hear me?”

richie made a moaning sound that might have been eddie’s name as his eyes fluttered open then filled with utter panic. he thrashes momentarily and grabs at the ventilator while coughing 

“no no richie stop stop” 

“richie baby dont do that just wait”

nurses come rushing in and they usher eddie and stan aside. they pull out the ventilator and said some things to richie explaining what had happened. wentworth and maggie were there, petting his hair and crying to each other .richie looks up at his parents as the doctors and nurses leave to give them privacy. 

eddie and stan hover in the doorway, shifting from one foot to the foot and unable to meet each other’s gaze. “eddie…” richie called out weakly and eddie was launching over to his side instantly. he flopped himself down onto richie’s chest, half hanging off of the bed onto the floor. he cries into his chest while richie cries all the harder.

“im sorry eds fuck fuck im sorry i love you”

“i love you, i love you, i love you.” 

the two boyfriends cried into each other for a long, long moment before richie made a forced laugh“can we just pretend i made a stupid ass joke or something to cut the tension?”

eddie snorted and leaned away so he was on his knees in front of richie’s bed, wiping at his tears and laughing sadly. richie’s gaze moved over and he found stan still hovering by the door

“i looked for you”

stan choked. “i… i was sleeping.”

me too… technically.”

“not funny,” all four people in the room reprimand. 

[sorcieresque]

leaked daisy and ai spicy xxx hot girls IM

pear-otter Yes. A bunch of times. My favourite one is where you’re a ludicrously wealthy trophy wife and I’m a down on my luck pastry chef. You hire me to cater an event and I fall helplessly into your wiles when I first visit your house. I’m amazed by the size and opulence of you and your husband’s house, but am quickly distracted by you. You descend the grand staircase in a sheer black robe, through which I can see your underwear, lacy and intricate. Your hair is artfully disheveled like you just awoke but your makeup is flawless. You want to give the impression of effortlessness, and vulnerability, and I buy it. As the date of the event grows closer, you invite me over more and more often, to adjust the menu. I wonder if you’re just lonely, or if it’s my company in particular you desire. I need this job, so either way, I don’t complain. By the day of the event, you have me completely at your mercy. I am enamoured and would do anything for you. You dress in a ravishing white blouse tucked into a tight pencil skirt. Your hair is in a ponytail, hanging in loose curls, and your eyes are endlessly sad when I see you. The event is a success, but just when it’s winding down, you find me in a back hall. You look scared, but maybe it’s all an act, your hair askew, and blood on your shirt. You say your husband is dead, and take me to see his body. I’m horrified, but you feed me a story about it being self defence. Whether I believe you or not doesn’t matter. I’m devoted to you, guilty or innocent. So I help you cover up the crime, make it look like an accident, burn your clothes. Help you wash the blood off. But when news of your husband’s death gets out, people are naturally suspicious. You’re the prime suspect, but I cover for you. Somehow, I’m implicated. When tensions are highest, we meet in your house, by moonlight. You convince me to confess to the murder, somehow making me think it’s my idea. You kiss me. Sometimes things get a little more heated than a brief kiss. The next morning I confess to the murder. You come to every day of my trial, still dressed in mourning clothes, as if you’re mourning for my freedom just as much as your husband’s death. I’m found guilty. You cry, and I hope the tears are genuine, but I never know for sure. For months you don’t visit me, and I try to come to terms with the fact that you used me, manipulated me into taking the fall for your husband’s murder. Until one day I have a visitor. It’s you of course, dressed in a tight black dress and a fur throw. You look like you’ve just come from a beautiful party. You act casual and coy, trying to play me as usual, but something’s different. I wonder what you want from me this time, what else is there, and finally I become frustrated with your cagey behaviour. I stand to go, but you ask me to wait. You admit you miss me. You just wanted to see me. At first I think it’s nothing but a trick, but there’s a desperation in your eyes that tells me you’re being truthful. Visiting hours end and you promise to visit again. And you do. There are trailers for conjugal visits, and you use your influence to let us meet in them, even though we’re not married. When I get out of prison, you wait for me in a fancy car, dressed in a wide brimmed hat. You’re wearing red lipstick, and you smile and ask where I want to go.

sorcieresque Firstly. I am high as shit.

sorcieresque Secondly, thank you for your candor. But wait, there's more.

pear-otter ?

pear-otter Are you really high?

pear-otter Daisy? Are you okay?

sorcieresque Yes and No. In your order. I said wait. I am typing.

pear-otter Okay.

sorcieresque I twice monthly entertain the idea of showing up at your door, the trope: Large coat and small lingerie. On your lap while you blush and stutter, fully-clothed. Trite, I know. I think I get off more to the power I’d hold than the subject prop of the fantasy; the patriarchy has sure done a number on me. I am aware lacy underwear and sexual confidence will not make anyone treat me equal to a man or give me the salary I deserve, that is, if I ever intended to get a job, then I could dethrone Elon Musk in a heartbeat. Where was I. These are lesbian asks and so we must take 30 minutes off being sex-critical feminists. We make love all night. I top, there is bondage involved. Much more Intimate, deeper: Sometimes I do not feel like Daze exactly but I’d rather wear a floral blue hawaiian shirt and men’s jeans, a silver gun strapped to my waist, my heart on my chest, hair long, disheveled. I walk like Daze walks and move like Daze moves but I am not a boy. I have never told anyone this. I think about girls like you but I do not know very many girls like you so you will do. A guy is hitting on you, you are clearly uncomfortable with his advances, leaning back into a locker. His arm is blocking you from escaping. I come over and put my arm around your waist and  One second I must punch Tyler in the face permanently she is being obnoxious.

pear-otter Hang on. Moire is there in the fantasy or Moire is there with you in real life right now?

sorcieresque Right now. I've punched her in the face permanently. Where was I.

pear-otter Your arm around my waist

pear-otter Also I have some questions but I’ll hold them til the end. Wait one is pressing, are you sharing this with Moire?

sorcieresque Into a locker his arm is blocking you from escaping I come over and put my arm around your waist and I could say something along the lines of The Lady Here Doesn’t Care For What You Have To Say or Excuse Me, That’s My Girl even when you are not in fact my girl, but instead I simply just kiss you on the side of the face and smile at him and escort you out of his grasp until we are out of sight. In this fantasy I do not expect to be paid back. I cannot stand a woman being harassed and will use my gentlemanliness for good. I want to be strong, imposing, protective. I want to intimidate men not with short skirts but swagger and confidence or as the kids say, Big Dick Energy. But you are grateful. You swoon a bit and perhaps kiss me on the corner of the mouth, write your number on the inside of my arm. I wait exactly four days to text you.

pear-otter I like it I like that you simply kissed me on the side of the face

pear-otter You don’t need words to convey your intentions to the guy, or aggression to intimidate him. That would be playing his game, and you don’t do that

sorcieresque sent a GIF

pear-otter Is this Moire

sorcieresque [[ WRONG PERSON ]]

pear-otter [[I see]]

sorcieresque Yes. I have punched her in the face forever. Thank you. I like the part where I convince you to plead guilty for the crime I commited. It's much too flattering.

pear-otter I like that part too It’s probably my favourite part

sorcieresque Let's unpack that.

pear-otter You might be able to do it. If the situation was right

pear-otter I don’t mean if you... you know. I just mean. I don’t know. I probably wouldn’t go to jail for you in real life though I’d escape In my fantasies I’m never a shapeshifter, although sometimes I’m not Ai either.

sorcieresque You wouldn't survive a day in prison. Do you often wish to pay, or perhaps, atone, for some unspoken guilt that you refuse to acknowledge.

pear-otter Hence why I’d escape

sorcieresque sent a photo post http://pear-otter.tumblr.com/post/175391797716/sorcieresque-no-yes-soft-pink-lacy-with

By the way, I forgot to say: Niiiiiiiice.

pear-otter Hmm, I don’t think so... Sometimes I’m the rich trophy wife and mmmsomeone else is the one who goes to prison. Oh. Thank you

sorcieresque Whom.

pear-otter Moire

sorcieresque I knew it.

pear-otter One time it was Val but then I just felt guilty

sorcieresque She'd do well in prison.

pear-otter Are you telling Moire?

sorcieresque I'll spare you the embarrassment.

pear-otter Okay

sorcieresque But I did do a dramatic reading of your fantasy. You're an excellent writer. She read mine over my shoulder. Everyone's a critic.

pear-otter Okay. Thank you? Did she laugh

sorcieresque Yes.

pear-otter Okay.

sorcieresque Like you laugh when. Puppies. I'll take you lingerie shopping.

pear-otter Really?

sorcieresque Yes. You'll have to model them though.

pear-otter You’re really nice like this Daisy Kind I mean

pear-otter I guess... I agree to go. If you still want to when this weird spell is over, and when you’re not high.

sorcieresque I am absolutely fucking stoned. You can't hold me accountable.

pear-otter I’m just saying if you change your mind and don’t want to go, that’s okay

sorcieresque I can still be mean.

pear-otter Oh I’m sure you can

sorcieresque You couldn't possibly escape prison. You're not. Wiggly. Enough. It's laughable that you think you could.

pear-otter I’m a shapeshifter?

sorcieresque Not in your fantasy. Check AND mate.

pear-otter Otters are known for their wiggles, Daisy

pear-otter Oh Well I never said I escaped in my fantasy

pear-otter Hang on are you saying I’m fat

sorcieresque I'm saying you're weak.

pear-otter I don’t know how I’d be without my powers so. Maybe Do you have your powers in your fantasies?

sorcieresque Duh.

pear-otter All of them?

sorcieresque They're me. I'm them. We aren't Daisy and an extra. I am me.

pear-otter Yeah well same but I still have some idea of what it means to be just human

sorcieresque When I was human it hurt.

pear-otter Oh in the cave? I was just an otter

sorcieresque Then perhaps you are an otter and an extra.

pear-otter I mean probably. My mother was an otter first Are you having fun with Moire

sorcieresque Mmmmtyer is too bony to be comfortable. Did your father fuck an otter.

pear-otter Gross To both

sorcieresque I mean, I ask. Respectully. Did he fuck an otter, respectfully.

pear-otter Of course not, my mother was granted human form before he was even born Yesterday at 11:07 PM

sorcieresque Where was her consciousness before that. Today at 6:31 AM

pear-otter She was just an otter. Today at 10:56 PM

sorcieresque That is so fucked up. That is absolutely goddamn messed.

pear-otter How?

pear-otter That’s just how it is. It’s how most kawauso become shapeshifters. And kitsune and other things.

sorcieresque Like in Japanese Cartoons.

pear-otter Kitsune? Yes, they’re very popular, including on the television.

sorcieresque Ah. I think I like otters more. Like puppies.

pear-otter Oh Thank you then Foxes do have a reputation of being more sly and wily

pear-otter You like when I film otter stuff right? You liked it a lot when you were sick before

sorcieresque But can they dance cinematic ally shot choreographies. I think not.

sorcieresque Check AND maete.

pear-otter Haha, I guess that’s true :) So ARE you having fun with Moire?

sorcieresque Mmmmnnnnnnnnn̯͜n͚͉̝̟͉n̙͎̳͓͢ yes. But you shall take this to your grave. I a mswearing you to secrecy of the highest degree.

pear-otter Okay sure

sorcieresque PINKY swear. With Your HEART.

pear-otter How can I pinky swear with my heart I have to do it with my pinky finger

pear-otter Whatever I Pinky Swear.

sorcieresque [Photo of Daisy dragging her hands down her face in an exasperated gesture, her eyes bloodshot white, the fleshy pink of the inside of her eyelids showing.] The Fat man of Sand is pouring his concoction in my eyeballs. If there's anything else you wish to know Speak now or forever hold your peace.

pear-otter Aud’s weird boyfriend? Is Aud there too? Oh actually wait

sorcieresque Hmm.

pear-otter In your fantasy?

sorcieresque Mhmm.

pear-otter You said um and I quote “I top, there is bondage involved.” What does that mean I mean I know what bondage IS I MEAN Hypothetically And I guess? I understand the first half of the sentence But could you perhaps elaborate!

pear-otter Haha or not? It’s okay!!! The moment has passed I guess I was just curious

pear-otter Daisy? Are you telling Moire this? I was just Joking isn’t the right word Playing along haha You probably fell asleep or got too caught up hanging out with Moire, which I hate I mean I don’t hate Moire!!! Just the thought of you two hanging out, especially high, really bothers me Why am I saying this What if you’re making out That’s hot ***NOT THAT’S NOT something you would want to do??????? Right???? If you were not high STOP Anyway. Good night Daisy I hope you’re not making out with Moire or bonding with her too much I mean I hope you sleep well And Moire. Apart. Maybe in separate rooms even Oh no. You’re going to wake up, not high, and see all this It was nice talking to you like this. Um. I don’t suppose we could pinky swear my last 500 messages into secrecy too? Good night

[juunshua]

No pls I love rants on music, especially vocal techniques (had a couple of classes, quit because of life in general, most of my expertise is on the piano side anyway), and would really, seriously love to hear your thoughts on the members vocals (although I do understand that this is time consuming to do) just wanted to say that there's no need to apologise for ranting, we all wanna hear you speak anyways :)

sorry this took forever to respond to! akdjf youve went to more vocal technique classes than i have so maybe you might know more than me ahaha! tbh i really want to formally learn vocal pedagogy so i know what im listening for and what im not. like having that professional opinion alongside telling me ‘ur wrong’ or ‘ur right’ i really want that so i can solidify my learning in a sense…ive been doing that kind of through youtube videos and stuff but still idk. omg ur a pianist? please i love you automatically now so idk why but i’ll probably just summarize in units? and like maybe short comments about each member or more than one member or something idk. under a readmore bc it got longwarning: i am no way, shape and or form a professional. 

hht: im going to start with hht…tbh i have another name for hht haha its called ‘baritone team’ alsdkjf isnt it a coincidence (not really) that all of svts baritones ended up in hht…thus is the fate of most baritones in kpop sadly :( they either get pushed to subvocal or to the rapper position even if its not what they want initially bc of their like natural (basically) biological disposition of not being able to hit, with the same kind of ease, high notes that tenors can…like tbh tenors cant hit those notes ½ the time either but its less obvious bc theyre tenors…that made no sense lasdj…in relating to current events though heres a classic example of baritone (vn) vs tenor (sk) singing in basically the same high note range but vn has to go into falsetto while sk is trying to mix up there…both of them arent really singing it well (laskdj fmaybe sk is a bad example bc he has a good approach to his voice…but like nonetheless that isnt a healthy sounding note from either of them) but its less obvious with sk bc hes a tenor and more obvious with vn (well maybe the falsetto vs mix also had to do with it but like idk a bari who would want to mix that high ljldkajf). anyways in terms of technique, no one in hht team particularly stands out. All of them tend to either sing with their throat or sing with lots of air in their voice, which isn’t particularly healthy but also to be expected from rappers. tbh rappers i find tend to be more throaty, i think why in this group they also are airy is because of wz lol and his vocal directing. within the entire group though (like not just hht), ww has my fav vocal color and i tend to think from within hht, he has the most potential to become a decent vocalist. its mostly (like 95%) because of his continual expressed desire in singing (it makes me think that when he does actually get proper vocal lessons he would take them very seriously and be very disciplined about it and tbh that just goes above everything else) but also because of that one performance of city escape (here) ? and it sounds really pretty and the range that he’s singing in that song is starting to be in the higher part of a baritones register too. and in some of his other vocal performances too, whenever he is in the range where he doesn’t have to mix, his approach to his voice really isnt bad at all. i say he has the most potential but that doesnt mean the other hht members cant become awesome vocalists they can if they put the right time and effort into it. pt:the rest of the units are composed of all tenors (at least from what i know) btw so yeah all of pt are tenors. again in terms of technique no one particularly stands out. they all seem to approach singing similarly but with putting emphasis on different things which makes them sound different….actually upon closer inspection most of the members of the entire group (not just pt) are like that laksjdl….well maybe with the exception of sk. anywho…jh pushes air a lot which is why you get those like ‘hiccups’?? idk how else to describe it but an example is here. like do u hear how his voice rises at the end of a lot of those notes? hs also gets those same hiccups. jh is also quite nasal, and probably the most nasally member within the 13 members when it comes to singing. nasally voices are my number one pet peeve rip thats why my fav jh singing moments is when hes singing in his comfortable range and esp when its words/syllables that force him to place his voice not so much in his nose (ie this part in my i). being nasal is not really as damaging for the vocal chords as much as it is the individual not really placing the voice in the correct, most optimal place. he also gets really tight on higher notes esp when hes trying to mix that high. same with hs (you can hear the both of them sounding tight in the habit perf i linked to earlier). also jh has tongue tension but im not sure if thats a reflection of him trying to sing in kr…him and hao are probably at a disadvantage when it comes to singing because of the fact that they aren’t singing in a language that theyre comfortable in/fluent in. when it comes to hao, when he said in the seasons greetings video that he was working on singing but no matter how much he practiced, he couldnt improve, that made me really sad :( because that basically means is that the vocal lessons he is getting arent actually good vocal lessons…unless he expects results to happen in a week (which sadly no it takes months upon months). ur vocal chords are a muscle so they take time to develop (like when u first go to the gym u arent going to try and lift the heaviest weight right? or run at the fastest speed or whatever u have to build urself up to that slowly). and then he also compared that to his dancing which he said he could get better at by doing over and over? but its the same when it comes to dancing like u cant be improving dancing if u learn the wrong choreo or the wrong ways to dance a specific type of dance right? like no matter how much u practice a wrong choreo its still going to be that wrong choreo…so if u sing with bad technique no matter how much u practice u arent going to get better u’ll just develop bad technique. but yeah singing with correct technique should yield some results eventually (i can attest to that). anyways im biased and i really want to hear hs get proper vocal lessons bc i find his vocal color sooo pretty i literally listen to campfire like 90%for his part in the chorus (and the other 10% is cheols rap aldjsf)….i also think he hovers around being able to support or maybe its my biased ears talking who knwos… i didnt really talk about dn but hes kind of along the same lines…maybe a bit more dependent on his throat than some of the other members in pt…which kind of makes sense bc thats what rappers tend to dovt: ok js and wz are both similar in how they approach singing i think its kind of obvious too with how much they sound alike at times. oh yeah wz probably has the highest vocal range within the group idt anyone in the group can go higher than him (not that it really matters when it comes to vocal technique but its a neat tidbit of info). jh for one has a lot of tongue tension (just like jn) when he sings and is kinda nasal (not as much as jn but still there). just like the rest of the other members in the other units, these three dont support either. we can finally talk about support when we talk about sm…although his supported range isnt too much he does have that basic down…he gets super throaty though when hes outside his supported range. he does that same hiccup thing that hs/jn do. he hasn’t shown the ability to resonate but at least he can support.  despite singing a lot of the groups high notes, he hasnt developed a connected head voice, as far as im aware of. technique wise hes really similar to a lot of the main vocalists in groups that debut these days. but ok NOW SK aka the member who has the best vocal technique. he supports consistently and he has resonance too its so beautiful and wonderful to listen to like esp since a lot of kpop group vocalists that debut these days for some reason dont really want to resonate. its so nice to listen to his voice. like hes fooling around here but still manages (what i think is) a resonant F#4? (not the high note he holds out, its like the note he sings before he slides up) and if that note isnt resonant then it is at the very least supported very very very nicely. heres a really pretty g4. tbh i really want to hear him start trying to conquer the fourth octave like what a good day itd be if i could say ‘yeah sk can sing up to b4s with good technique’ like thats kind of hard to do but definitely attainable! and he has the potential for sure! i think within the fandom hes really quite overlooked for some odd reason that i cant seem to figure out why. he definitely has the healthiest voice, at least his mixed register for sure. he seems to prefer mixing over head voice for whatever reason when it comes to high notes so honestly speaking i havent paid much attention to his head voice but i wouldnt be surprised if it wasnt connected considering how much he doesnt sing in it…but tbh the fact that he mixes pretty decently is amazing in it of itself. CONCLUSION: with proper vocal guidance and technique ANYONE can become a decent singer.