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jellyfishsthings · 5 months

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WARNINGS: this is quite angsty...no actual smut happens just a tiny scene. Also I messes around with some scenes so I feel like it doesn't follow the storyline in the series... that's about it... (should a do a part 2?) part 2 here, part 3

He was nursing a long drink of whiskey on ice as he stared at the blank wall. The year was 1963, and he was currently sitting on a lousy couch in Dallas. The apocalypse was going to take place once again mere days away. He felt bone tired, no one around him understood the stakes and the pressure he was under. He got out of his jacket a black and white photo. A young woman in her early twenties had a huge smile plastered on her face, her head was slightly cocked to the side and loose hair from the messy bun that rested at the top of her head framed her beautiful face. She seemed radiant, her eyes were crinkled from her smile and she seemed like a goddess to him. A piece of heaven that he left behind.

“Who's that?” Klaus whispered in his ear and Five jumped from the sudden sound and he glared at his brother. Out of all his siblings, Klaus was the only one who would understand him. “She is beautiful.”

“She is my wife.” Five said quietly. His voice was soft and colored in an emotion that Klaus couldn't recognize.

“Your what?”

“Are you deaf? I said she is my wife, or at least she was.”

“What happened?”

Five had been at the Commission for several years. After a failed experiment he had turned back to his twenty-year-old self. He had heard whispers of the Scarlet Angel all around him, everyone seemed to talk about his rival, especially in his presence. It was supposed to be the deadliest assassin of the Institution besides him. One gray day he was called into the Handlers office. That was when he saw her for the first time. A tall woman was seated on a chair, her beautiful face turned towards him as he entered the room. Five had never been one to find in someone's physical beauty but at the moment their eyes met he could swear that his heart skipped a beat.

Their first assignment together had been such a success, that they were stuck together permanently. Throughout the following years, Five found himself falling for her harder every day, with every word she said, with every laugh she caused from him, the way she always had his back and defended him whether she agreed with his actions or not. Their fights were the best thing that ever happened to him, she always found ways to leave him speechless, with her smart comebacks, the way she was animated when she got angry, her hands flew around her, her face got angry red and her hair bounced with her movements. He had never seen someone look so exquisite when they were yelling at him. She made him feel alive, adrenaline coursed in his veins. She always got the better of him. She was so… infuriating. On one of those occasions he finally had enough.

He grabbed her face and smashed their lips together to silence her. She was breathless when he distanced himself from her. Her eyes were wild and her hand flew to his cheeks, slapping him. Before leaving him frozen on his spot. They were supposed to be undercover as a married couple at the gala of their target. They had been discussing tactics and strategies when things escalated.

With a deep breath, he tried to calm himself down and headed back towards the ballroom, searching for his supposed wife. They stayed together all night, dancing and acting like a couple. It seemed natural to him to be this way with her. Having her in his arms, and showing her off. Finally a few minutes shy of dawn, they tiptoed towards a huge room where their target hid diamonds. Diamonds they were going to steal after killing him, so the crime would seem like a robbery gone wrong. Just at the last corner, they were almost caught. Five quickly hoisted her up before he pinned her to a wall and he placed his face on her neck. Her skin flashed and her heartbeat was rapid beneath his mouth.

“Play along.” He whispered sweetly to her skin but she was shocked by his actions. So he had no choice. He sucked at her pulse point receiving an immediate reaction. Her legs drew back on his hold, her back arched, her eyes closed and her lips released a quiet breathy moan. At that moment he knew he was already addicted to her. He couldn't hold himself back any longer. He bit and sucked on her neck and her hands tangled into his hair as she tugged at the short strands on the back of his head. She was moaning in his arms and her hips rolled against his. He raised his knee and she started riding his leg shamelessly. He wanted to be inside of her or he was going to burst. He wanted to shut her smart mouth so it would no longer fire comebacks at him. He unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants before pushing her underwear to the side and he waited for a confirmation to continue. She could ask him to kneel, to beg and he would gladly do so. Just to steal one moment with her.

A loud bang echoed through the walls and they snapped out of their daze. But the damage had already been done. Their partnership had been blown to proposition forever. And the rest was history.

Several years later, and many happy years together after being married in secret. It happened, their big bang, the thing that embodied the doom of their relationship. Five had always been a pessimist, even in his early childhood. He was a firm believer in Murphy's law, which stated that when something could go wrong in a situation, always expect it to go wrong. They had traveled in Germany during the Second World War. Five posed as one of the ranking officers in Auschwitz as his wife was expected to do the same. Only, she had been compromised and now she was one of the prisoners. The terrible labor that she endured every day was the thing that would plague him for years to come. After completing their mission and several wounds later they managed to get back to the safety of their home.

“Why didn't you listen to me?” Five snap in frustration and terror. His hands shook as he tried to stitch a big guss on her stomach. She looked paper thin, her bones were visible and her veins along with her arteries stood prominent against her pale skin that lost its color.

“I did. I disagreed with your plan either way. And we had to do something drastic. I took a risk and I lost. It happens.”

“And did it have to happen in one of the most terrifying places that ever existed on this Earth?”

“Snap out of it. You would have done the same. And always where we are atrocious things have happened. So you don't get to lecture me. I am my own person. I made a call and it happened to be wrong. But if I hadn't done that we would have eventually failed this mission. And you don't get to lecture me when you have done nothing but be untruthful to me since the moment this started.”

“Wh- what are you talking about?” Five whispered, his voice quivered with unshown emotions. He could see the inevitable impact between them before his eyes, he had just hoped he could have a few more moments with her. A few more minutes, a few more hours, days, or years. Anything really.

Her eyes were hard and full of hatred. She pulled herself to her feet. The pain that consumed her must have been blinding. The open wounds leaked with blood that stained her skin. She moved towards her coat where she retrieved a dark green notebook and she slammed it against their kitchen table, before placing her hands on her hips and firing a challenging look towards him.

“You know I want to get back to my family, sweetheart.”

“Don't sweetheart me. These equations are only for one person. So is there something you want to tell me, dear husband of mine?”

“Please let me explain…”

“Explain what? That this meant nothing to you? You are an egoistic son of a bitch Five. And I am done with you. And you know why? You made the mistake of placing a date when you started. Our wedding date. You have already shown your true colors. You can leave now. And you can take this, I don't need it any longer. Either way, it was fake and it meant nothing to you.” She said before throwing her wedding ring at him. It thudded against his chest and he caught it mid-air, as he watched her walking away from him and slamming the door of their bedroom in her way. He stood frozen in his place. It was done. The one thing that made him feel alive, the one thing that made him happy left him. He lost it under his own hands. The same night, he left a letter behind him before he traveled back in time, back to his family. To them, he seemed a shy seven years older than when he disappeared. But they didn't know about the two things he carried with him from his last life. Her picture in the breast pocket of his smart jacket and her wedding ring on his collarbones as it hung from a golden chain, both hidden from the world.

“Five. That is just … I don't know what to say.”

“Then don't. It is already hard to think about her.”

“How long has it been since -”

“Six years, eight months and twenty days. My early attempts to get back to you weren't really successful.” He whispered as he toying with her ring. It was gold and smooth to touch, his name had been engraved on the inside. It had been a blast to convince the person who made them that his name was actually Five. And he smiled at the fond memory.

“Will you ever see her again?”

“I don't know. The selfish part of me wishes that, but another part of me knows that it is better this way. Because she is free and safe from me. Klaus, if you don't mind … no more talk please.”

Klaus looked at the pained expression on his brother's face. He had never heard him utter the world “please”, at least not to him. So he simply nodded and stayed with him in silence before their peace was disturbed by their reality.

words: 1.781

#five hargreeves #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreaves x you #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves smut #five hargreeves angst

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b00kdiary · 9 months

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Dreamer | Rhysand (I)

Rhysand x Reader

Rhysand begrudgingly goes to Hewn City to secure a marriage pact that will indefinitely bond the two Courts together- but the fine ladies of the Court of Nightmares are not what he wants or needs.

Instead, he discovers Lady Y/N, and she has no qualms about telling him how he has failed this City and her. This is more than just coincidence, it’s fate.

Warnings: long chapters, mature content (18 +) swearing, eventual smut.

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

"High Lord, Rhysand of the Night Court."

I reach the top of the dais as my name is announced, my footsteps echoing against the polished floor and the sound bounces through the room, through the tense silence. No one speaks, they barely breathe, as I slowly turn, my face a sheet of ice as I settle onto my throne.

I let a nonchalant smile tug at my lips, the dark mask of a tyrant slipping into place as I eye the endless room before me. A macabre and dreary setting with its ebony walls and onyx ceiling, the beasts carved into the cavernous stone a mirror to the type of Fae who lived in this City.

I emulate the darkness as I lean back, my long legs spreading apart and my fingers curling into the engraved snake form that curves around the throne, the head peering out over my shoulder, my own personal monster.

I cock my head at the dozens of males before me, Council Members, my violet eyes twinkling in amusement as they all remained bowed, knees pressed to the floor, heads lowered and waiting for my word.

"You may rise," I drawl, my tone the picture of boredom, and as Kier and his peers rise to their feet, I see the apprehension and distaste on their faces for me, for my inner circle. Kier observes me, his brown eyes flickering at the prolonged silence. "Kier?"

"As usual, it is an honour to have you here, High Lord," Kier inclines his head, scurrying forward as he speaks, his own mask of reverence slipping into place as he stops before me. "As the steward of Hewn City, I am delighted by your decision to unite our two Courts through marriage, as are the Council present here today."

I see the way my Court stiffens, Mor, Cassian and Azriel all flanked at the bottom of the dais seem to go unnaturally still, the stones in their eyes wholly- unable to hide their disapproval of this whole arrangement.

"We all have our duties, Kier, the Court must always come first," My lips tilt in a mocking smile, and Kier shrivels under the tendrils of dark power that dance around me, an omnipresent threat so at odds with my amused gaze, "My marriage to a Lady of Hewn City will be a victory for us all."

Marriage.

The word tastes like poison on my tongue, any hopes and dreams I had once harboured turning to ash in my mouth at the cold reality I was faced with. To marry a female, I didn't know or love, to mate with her and sire a child, and secure an alliance with the Court of Nightmares indefinitely.

Heavy is the head that bears the crown indeed.

"It will be an alliance venerated for generations to come, I'm sure," Kier smiles, an ugly, wretched sight and I saw Mor shiver in my peripheral, an imperceptible movement, a conditioned reaction to her father. "High Lord, may I introduce to you the fine ladies selected by the Council."

I brace myself, masking my dread with an entertained smirk, drawing on the worst parts of myself, the worst parts of this place to hide the male that roared in warning to me inside. A click of doors opening at my left, and then several soft footsteps echoing into the chamber.

I stare, unyielding and silent, as several young women stride into the room, their heads bowed and back straight, adorned with fine clothes and finer jewellery as they stop at the foot of the dais before me.

They were fine, lovely even, tall, and thin, typical of High Fae female beauty and yet, despite their soft smiles and delicate frames, I frown.

"You can't be serious, even you wouldn't be this cruel," Mor releases a horrified, tight breath and both Cassian and Azriel step forward in unison, an impenetrable wall, as Kier's eyes turn to Mor and his lip curls. "These 'fine ladies' are girls, children, how old are they?"

The room shifted at her sharp words, Kier tensing at the accusation and the males of the Council muttering amongst themselves, their eyes burning as they glared at my cousin- at her supposed insolence for speaking out of turn.

"Their age is of little significance, girl," Kier sneers, that simpering fool mask he wore melting into revulsion and anger as he took in his outcasted daughter. My fingers curled around the throne under me as he spoke, that pit of darkness inside me churning. "They have all had their first bleed-"

"Cauldron," Cassian swore, his dark hair shifting as he moved his gaze over to those girls, and I saw his throat bob at the sight- so young, broken, pawns moved and used in a game of power.

"You're disgusting," Mor hissed, and I heard the pain clawing at her throat, her face pulled into a devastated frown as she took in those girls- and it was as if she were looking into a mirror, to the girl she had once been. "These girls are not chattel; you cannot sell their innocence for your own gain-"

"These ladies are being honoured, girl, an honour that you will never understand," Kier snarled, his emphasis on honour so clear, an indirect assault on Mor's character, on the choice she made to free herself. "To marry the High Lord is a privilege, one these ladies are eager for-"

Azriel's shadows thrum around him, restless, wild, and I knew his control was wearing thin the longer Kier spoke, the longer those girls stood before us, trembling under the burden on their shoulders.

"Enough." One word, low and sinister, and every mouth in the room closed, every Fae in the room turned utterly still at the command.

I grit my teeth, letting the furious power within me radiate into the room, let it dance through the air, brush against my subjects, let them feel the warning, the threat, that I was. I smile as their faces pale, flinching back from the vile magic, a reminder that I could destroy them without even lifting a hand.

"Kier, I am going to choose to believe that this decision was made out of sheer stupidity rather than insolence," My voice is a calm storm, but my eyes- they rage with a current of violence and death, the kind that made males twice my age blanche- and they do. "I will choose to believe that you did not invite me here to waste my time- you wouldn't dare be so foolish, would you Kier?"

I shifted forward in my seat, my eyes narrowing down at the male, and it took all the restraint in me not to shatter every bone in his body, to not pluck his eyes from his head and tear his tongue from his mouth- and he sees that desire to inflict pain upon him in my gaze.

"Never, High Lord, I would not dream of-" Kier barely contains his stuttering words, a mixture of fear, indignation and humiliation lacing through his widening gaze, but like the worm he was, he bowed his head to me in remorse. "It was a grave misjudgement, one that will not be repeated again."

"Good- I desire to sire a child, Kier, not marry one," I sneer, my disgust prevalent across every hard inch of my face as I turn from Kier, moving my eyes across every last council member, "Just as I am sure you all agree, these girls have many more years left to enjoy their youth, yes?"

I make the threat clear in my words, make them clear in my eyes- touch these girls and die.

None oppose me, their hearts hammering in their chests as they nod their head in agreement, subservient and controlled- and a small kernel of satisfaction fills me, that they felt a fraction of what the girls before me did.

"Kier, join me in the Council Room," I stand from my chaise, and as if it were muscle memory, every single person in the room falls to a knee and drops their heads as I descend the stairs. "Let us discuss the consequences you'll all face should you disappoint me again."

***

"Y/N, a union between the High Lord and a Lady of Hewn City is exactly the chance we've been waiting for," Cassandra pestered, her wide eyes pleading with me, but I ignored her again, choosing to instead clean the Council Room for the next meeting with haste. "It's a chance for change."

"Who are you trying to convince, Cassie- me or yourself?" I mutter, raising a dark brow at her as I tuck in the oak chairs, shoving them into place harder than was needed. "This marriage is a farce, and you're deluding yourself by thinking otherwise."

Cassie groans, the sound reverberating through the empty room, and I try to not laugh at her as she rushes around the endless table, her sea-blue eyes rolling as she stops beside me.

"Why must you be such a pessimist?" Cassie demands, her cold, slim fingers ripping the papers from my hand and slamming them onto the table before me. "With a lady from our Court married to the High Lord, we can finally hope, we will have someone on our side- to help us, to fix this Cauldron-forsaken City-"

"And who would that be?" I scoff out a laugh, a bitter, hollow sound as I turn my hard gaze to her, strands of my loose hair brushing my hot cheeks as I move, "Thanatos's daughter despises the Court of Dreams, Kier's nieces care more about fine jewels and clothes than people, and the other daughters are afraid of their own shadows, they would shit themselves at the sight of the High Lord and his inner circle."

Cassie purses her lips at my harsh words, and I frown, sighing deeply at the look of dejection on her lovely face, hating myself for snuffing out the light that had filled her eyes. But it had to be done- some people were not meant to dream.

"I'm sorry, Cassie, I know you wish it were otherwise, I do too," I force back the lump in my throat as I turn from her, hating the way my lip trembled and my hands felt weak, "But this marriage will benefit nobody but the High Lord, his court, and the males of the Council- that's it. They have never and will never care, there is no one on our side but us."

Silence fills the room at my hoarse dead words, and the reality of them, the reality that we were truly and irrevocably stuck in this life, in this cycle of hell made my eyes burn.

"It saddens me that you feel that way, My Lady," A deep, velvety voice rasped from behind me, and the air went taut at the unfathomable power that penetrated the room.

Cassandra gasped, something spilling from her hand and dropping to the floor with a deafening crunch. My stomach twists into knots as I brace myself, all the blood leeching from my face as I turn- to where the High Lord stood, his inner circle and Kier watching on either side.

"High Lord," Cassie choked on the title, choked on her fear and before the male before us could speak, she stumbled down to a knee, her head bowed and her golden hair falling forward to shield the terror on her face.

I couldn't move, not even as the voice inside me screamed and begged for me to bow, to submit myself to him- for I had heard stories of Rhysand.

Of his abilities as a Daemati, able to shatter a person's mind without lifting a hand, of his ruthlessness as High Lord, reducing people to ash with a smile on his lovely face, of all the horrific things he had done in his five hundred years of existence.

And it seemed he saw it on my face, perhaps even saw it in my mind, the nightmares and tales, the horrors spread about him in the City, about the kind of male he was.

His violet gaze narrowed, the constellations in them beaming as he stared at me, as he cocked his head, his lips pursed into a thin line- as if observing me. I shook under the silent act, the unyielding hold he had over me, as well as the gazes of his court at his side.

"Y/N!" Cassie hissed under her breath, her head turning and her silver-lined eyes meeting mine, tears sullying the usually tranquil blue as she pleaded with me to move, to bow.

"Insolent girl," Kier spat, his gaze hard as he glared at me and the breath caught in my lungs as a dark eclipse of magic shot from him, striking against my stomach, hard enough that I lurched forward in pain and then another hit a second later, slamming into my jaw. "Bow before your High Lord."

I groaned as I fell to a knee, the impact of the bone against the polished floor striking through my whole leg and up my body, but that was nothing compared to the throb that burned through my stomach and the cut at my lip, the taste of metal filling my mouth.

I heard a gasp, a feminine sound of surprise and concern from above me as I leaned forward, my eyes pinched shut and every breath feeling like glass in my lungs as I tried to compose myself- forcing down the pain in my jaw, in my stomach, in my heart.

I heard footsteps and then the room went still, as if a blanket of ice had fallen over us.

"High Lord, she-she was being impudent-" Begging and broken words, riddled with fear and my eyes shot open at the sound of a sickening crunch, an agonised scream following it, and the aura of death filling the space.

"No, you are impudent, Kier," That voice again, but now it sounded different- the kind of mercilessness that could haunt a person's nightmares, that could be found in the darkest hollows of hell. "You do not touch her, or any other female, ever."

Another crunch and I recognise the sound now, it was bones splintering, tendons tearing, blood gushing and Kier cried out again, a horrible, strangled sound.

"Leave," The High Lord breathed the command, and I felt the floor shake under his restraint like he was funnelling his power down into the ground as an anchor. "and do not heal that hand, I want you to remember my words today, Kier."

I keep my head low, staring at the floor, unable to look up as footsteps bound away, fast and stumbling and I cringe at the sight of blood leaking against the floor, a trail following after Kier as he exits the room.

And despite the tendrils of pain still wrecking through me- I internally groaned at the thought of having to clean the blood up.

An amazed huff of air left the High Lord, it sounded almost like a laugh, but I didn't dare raise my head. Not even as he slowly sauntered over, his footsteps deliberate and slow, I didn't even look up when that trail of blood vanished, magicked away, leaving behind not even a stain in memory.

He stopped before me, and my heart thrummed so loud I knew they could all hear it.

"My Lady," Rhysand murmured, his voice soft now, like a caress of wind against my skin. I swallow down the bitter taste in my mouth, my eyes fluttering as I lift my head- to see the hand he had reaching down for me. "Please, rise."

I blink at the outreached hand, heat filling my cheeks at Rhysand's tender gaze, any whisper of violence or darkness gone, replaced by something so much sweeter. I gnaw on my cheek, my hand sweating and shaking as I reach forward, gently placing my palm in his.

The second our hands connect, something charges through me, bright and sharp and strong and for a second Rhysand's eyes widen, just for a second, but then he blinks at it's gone- as if I had imagined it.

"Thank you, High Lord," I breathe and his fingers curl firmly around my palm as I wince, my knees shaking and knocking as I rise to my feet. He whispers something gently under his breath, his head glancing sideways, and I sigh when Cassandra rises too, her slender frame curling back as she stands.

I crane my neck to meet Rhysand's eyes, and upon seeing my face, seeing the cut leaking blood at my lip, his expression hardens. He still hadn't let go of my hand, his large, ringed fingers still gripping around me like a vice, calming the trembling shakes that ran through me.

"I apologise for Kier's actions," Rhysand sighed, his dark lashes fluttering as he slowly slipped his hand from mine, moving to the pocket of his jacket, his fingers pulling free the cloth there. My hand felt cold as it fell back to my side, but as Rhysand lifted the cloth between his fingers, my head hazed.

I didn't breathe, couldn't, as Rhysand gently brushed the soft cloth against the cut at my lip, soaking the material with blood and being so careful that I didn't even feel the pain stinging at the touch. I feel the surprised stare of Cassie at my side, of his family at his back, but nothing deterred Rhysand.

"I should be the one to apologise, High Lord," I stutter, finally feeling like I can breathe as he pulls his hand away, and I blink away the fog, clearing my throat as I step back, as I let the bubble, he created around us pop. "I spoke out of turn, and I should have bowed-"

"You don't need to apologise for your honesty or anything else," He shook his head, the soft waves of his blue-black hair shifting with the movement, and I forced myself to not stare at every inch of his handsome face. "I don't punish Ladies for words spoken in earnest between friends."

I nod, uncertainty and weariness shining in my gaze as I take in his intense half-smile, a smile that seems to brighten when I glance at Cassandra, looking equally as confused as me, and I shrug weakly.

"Though I will admit I am rather taken aback by your words, Lady Y/N," I shiver at the sound of my name on his silver tongue, at the way he cocked his head down at me, a purely predatory move, as he spoke. "I would like to hear more of your thoughts on the matter."

Hear my thoughts?

I go still at his easy words, at the question rather than a command, and Cassie releases a puff of air- like there wasn't enough oxygen in the room to placate her aching lungs.

"What?" I croak and then wince at the insolence behind my words, a habit that I couldn't shake in front of the High Lord. I pinch my eyes shut at the way his lip quirks, and my embarrassment is worsened by the small chuckle that General Cassian huffs out. "I mean- I'm not sure that's-"

"Now, now- don't go all shy on me, My Lady," Rhysand purred, nonchalance highlighted in every inch of his muscled form as he tucked the cloth back into his pocket and grinned at me, like a lion before devouring a lamb. "I think we're past the point of formalities, yes?"

***

"There is no one on our side but us."

The words were so hollow and defeated, the type of ruined that spoke of no hopes, dreams, or future, just nothing. And it was hard to explain what I felt at the words, like a sharp pain as if she had reached into my chest and torn out my heart with her bare hand.

She said that they have never and will never care- 'they' being me, my court, the people around me now and the ones left behind in my City of Starlight.

Sincere words, loaded words, spoken by a female behind closed doors, in confidence to her friend- and yet, I had overheard.

I wasn't sure what to expect when stepping into this room and wasn't sure what kind of female I would be confronted with. I had anticipated a female full of loathing and darkness, a kind of anger that would burn in her eyes, that could be seen through every breath she took, in every inch of her skin as she moved.

And yet, as I stared at the girl before me, I was met with the exact opposite.

The other lady, Cassandra, had become a shaking mess the second her blue eyes laid upon me, her breaths gasping from her as if everyone would be the last. She was terrified because that was all she knew in this city; it was all she knew of me.

But Lady Y/N was different- she was frightened by me, yes, I saw it in her doe-like eyes, saw it in the memories that flashed through her mind of me, the tales of my cruelty and brutality, the blood that stained my hands and the darkness that tainted my heart.

But she didn't look away, as if she couldn't.

Here she was faced with a monster that mothers warned their children about, yet she stared at me as if she saw me- and was as beguiled by me as I was by her.

"Now, now- don't go all shy on me, My Lady," I smile, the tightness in my chest easing as a stain tints her plump cheeks, and her chocolate eyes widen, "I think we're past the point of formalities, yes?"

Her friend swallows, audible and thick, as if struggling to get down air and Azriel shifts on his feet, his brow furrowed as if concerned the girl might collapse. Y/N glances at her, and amusement fills me at the small, confused shrug she gives her.

"You won't uh-" She clears her throat, her hand coming up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, and I watch every single movement as she tucks the silken strand over a perfectly arched ear, revealing the smooth column of her neck. "You won't turn me to dust, right?"

I snort, a short and amazed sound, and she gnaws on her lip, avoiding the cut there and I have to begrudgingly tear my gaze away when my court steps forward, my brothers half-smiling and Mor looking at Y/N as if she was as charmed by her as I was.

"No, no, Lady Y/N," My mask slips and slips until it's completely gone, and I'm glad that Kier left, glad that none but her saw me like this because it felt freeing, to be in this Cauldron-forsaken place and be able to genuinely smile. "No one will be turned to dust, on my honour as High Lord."

"Please do tell us," Mor steps forward, a small smile on her red-pained lips and Y/N's breath hitches at the eyes on her, at the attention. "Contrary to what you may think, we do care."

Y/N considers, and I can hear her heart hammering in her chest, fast and loud and endless, but despite that she lifts her chin and something raw runs through me at the look in her eyes- the bravery.

"I- I think that Hewn City is a cesspit, full of the worst kind of Fae and every amoral despicable thing a person could do happens here," She breathes, and her soft body trembles with the exhale, as if speaking these words aloud were exactly the catharsis she needed. "And to be honest, I blame you for that."

Surprise- it fills me and every single other person in the room.

"Y/N!" Cassandra gasps, and her eyes seem to widen further, impossibly big, latching onto me and full of pleading, "She doesn't mean that- she must be more delirious than anticipated from the-"

"Cassie, please," Y/N scoffs, a hollow and low sound, and the tension in the air goes thick as they glance at each other. "Someone needs to say it, it might as well be me."

I fold my arms across my chest, my lips pursing as they stare at each other, some internal telepathic conflict waging between them, in their eyes and despite my abilities, despite the fact, that it would be so easy for me to slip into their minds and wade through all their thoughts, I don't.

I glanced back at my Court, who stood just behind me, and their faces were contemplative too- not angry, nor offended, but shocked- here was this girl, no older than twenty, with eyes as soft as a doe's, telling us exactly how we have failed.

"Please, continue," I nod, and I hope my eyes are encouraging, because even if I do not wish to hear her words, she was right, they needed to be said and I needed to hear them.

"For centuries, the Court of Nightmares and the Court of Dreams have been segregated and somehow we've fallen into two categories: good and bad," She swallows, and something aches in my chest at the sorrow on her lovely face, the burden, "But no one is born bad, people aren't inherently evil but growing up in a place like this? What else is there but the horrors we see and endure, what else are we destined to become?"

Another shaky inhale, a more broken exhale, and my magic burn inside me as if every desperate breath from her is like a call and my body is begging in answer.

"Your court has washed their hands of us, all of us because it was easier to believe that we were all damned than to try to help- the small minority have ruined the majority," Silver lines her hardening gaze, and I feel us all, every single one of us, go tense at the single tear that trickled down her cheek.

I hear a strangled sound come from behind me and my burning gaze glances back- to Mor, tears brimming her eyes and her lips trembling, watching the girl before us, and feeling every single atom of hurt as if it were her own.

"Morrigan was lucky enough to escape this City, these people because she had you- but do you truly think that she is the only good person born here, that in all these years, she is the only one worthy of salvation?"

More tears leak down Mor's face and Y/N's, endless, eternal, years of suffering in one single moment and I feel the guilt of my actions barrel down at me, a truth that I have spent years avoiding coming to light, like a thunderbolt to the heart.

I let my magic hold me down, let it root me in my spot- because those tears on her cheeks are tormenting me, ruining me, and it takes everything in me not to reach out and brush them away.

"So, forgive me if I have no hope left, that died in me, in all of us, long ago," Y/N clears her throat, her chest rising and falling in powerful waves and my throat is as dry as sand as she wipes the tears from her cheeks, "I- I think we could have all been dreamers- if only you had given us the chance."

In five hundred years, the mask I wore never slipped, never faltered, never was hard to wear- until right now. Right now, as my gaze locked with her, as I saw all the horrors she endured, because of my neglect, I couldn't even find that mask within me- it was gone.

There's silence, heavy and long and burdensome for what feels like hours as I stare at her, and I don't think I could look away even if I wanted to do and I don't, I don't want to.

Y/N inhales a sharp breath as I stalk towards her and the magic in me dances and whirls and strikes through the air, dark and ominous and wholly powerful. My jaw locks as she grabs out to her friend, Cassandra whimpering as Y/N yanks the girl behind her- a shield, against me.

Brave- so utterly brave. Willing to face off with a male five hundred years her senior and her High Lord, to protect her friend.

A Queen in her own right.

I stop before her, so close that I feel her breasts brush my chest, feel the small trembles that wreck through her body, can smell the lavender and jasmine on her perfect skin. She raises her eyes to me, and I see every ounce of her character, her heart and soul, as she tries to not cower before me.

"How old are you, My Lady?" I mutter, and she shivers under my easy words, her brow furrowing at the non-threat. "And what do you do here, your role?"

"Twenty-one, High Lord." She swallows, her tongue flicking out nervously to wet her lips and my hands clench at the sight, at the moisture on her pink mouth. "My father was Captain of an import chain for the City, I was given the role of Lady-in-waiting as a reward for his work."

I sense the curiosity and shock of my court behind me, the way they imperceptibly inch closer to me, to us, drawn in by my words- by the intention behind them.

"You believe the alliance is a farce, that it wouldn't change anything?" I ask, softer, and my power slips from me, curling around her curved hips and soft thighs, moving through her silken hair and over her sensitive skin- and she shakes her head, unable to speak. "What if I were to find a Lady of Hewn City who shared your sentiments, who desired for change and salvation just as you do- would that make you more inclined to hope?"

Cassandra sucked in a sharp breath, her blue eyes widening- in realisation. And I felt the air tauten, my inner circle going still, knowingly.

But Y/N cocked her head, a youthful move, not seeing what was right in front of her.

"Yes, I think that you marrying a Lady who genuinely cares for this City and its people would be a step in the right direction," She considers, and I can't fight my smile at the tender, sincere, confusion that pinches her lovely face. "Thought I seriously doubt you will find any such female here."

"Hm," A lazy grin stretches across my face, bright and sure, drawing from the feeling blooming in my chest, raw and new and terrifying as I stare down at her, "I already have."

"High Lord? I don't understand-" Her words melt into a gasp as my fingers caress her cheek, moving ever so gently against that sore cut at her lip- and satisfaction fills me when her eyes flutter, a breathy sound slipping from her.

"I have already found the perfect Lady to marry," Her face burns as I run my eyes languidly down her figure, across her entire face and body- and she stills as realisation fills her, "All you have to do is say yes, Y/N darling."

#acotar #rhysand #rhysand smut #rhysand x reader #smut #sarah j maas #azriel acotar #cassian acotar #rhysand acotar #rhysand x y/n #acotar fanfiction #sjm #the bat boys #acotar smut

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hongthoven · 5 months

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Love me like you hate me pt. 3 ✘ hongjoong x reader (smut&angst)

❅ pairing : kim hongjoong (ateez) x fem reader

❅ rating : +18 | angst, smut

❅ warnings : violence, strong language, sex, mention of death

❅ status : chaptered, unfinished (chapter 3/?)

❅ tags&stuff : gang leader!hj, gang AU, stripper!reader, drugs, money, corruption, stripclub, violence, San as hj’s right-hand man and Wooyoung as their overexcited sidekick, San is kind of a sadistic bastard, heart eyes for Woo, graphic sex scenes incoming, joong is a rough little man with a potty mouth, Yunho’s there too and the most perfect boyfriend material as usual

❅ chapter wc : 4.5k

❅ previously ― part 1 | part 2

please comment & reblog if you enjoyed reading ♥

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝟑

“Fuck- who knew a single dude could bleed that much?” San chuckled, rolling up his sleeve to wipe some blood off his skin, taking off one of his rings as it was now closer to rose gold from being painted red.

“You did rip the guy’s teeth off one by one, that’s gotta hurt!” Wooyoung giggled from the front seat of the car taking them all back home, unbothered by the puzzled look their driver would occasionally give them.

“What can I say, I like a job done right” San teased once again, cursing a little as some of the blood didn’t seem to come off that easily.

Sitting next to him, Hongjoong was quietly staring into the city skyline as they drove through the night, failing to make any comment on his friend’s behavior when he would usually mock him for being a sadistic asshole with a thirst for blood. Still, he had to admit most of his regular income was the fruit of San’s hard labor and bad temper. While he had made a name for himself, Hongjoong knew most of his enemies never came too close because they already had been flirting with death too many times because of San’s fists. If he wasn’t exactly a role model when it came to act on the low and be discreet, San was by far the best right-hand man he could wish for.

“Who’s got your tongue, boss?” San finally asked, poking Hongjoong in the arm as he had never seen him so quiet before.

“Bet it was that stripper” Wooyoung giggled, mostly to himself, sighing at the memories of the girl grinding all over him hours before as he rolled the car window down to light himself a cigarette.

“Shut the fuck up. Both of you” Hongjoong coldly ordered, his eyes never drifting from the sight of a city fast asleep while his mind wandered once again to that club, head still filled with vivid images of that girl he had reluctantly left behind. She had never left his mind, like a permanent thought soon to turn into his new obsession.

Settling back into an ordinary life was always the hardest part of the job.

As she sat in front of the mirror in her cozy little boudoir, her hair into a messy bun as she wiped away the sparkly make-up that made her feel untouchable on stage, Y/N couldn’t help but overthink the situation she had been stuck into, earlier in the night. While resentment was getting ahead of her, it suddenly seemed like Yunho had been summoned into the room as he made a quiet entrance, keeping his back against the door as he simply stared into her reflection.

“How was your night?”

A simple question he always asked, rushing into the changing rooms as soon as she was done with her shift to make sure everything was okay and none of their clients had taken things a little too far. Regardless of his schedule, Yunho’s primal instinct was to check on the girl he adored beyond any sort of good sense.

Still, when she failed to reply, Yunho instantly felt his heart drop into his chest. Something was odd and the ice cold look she eventually spared him came as a confirmation.

“Is there something wrong?” He frowned, walking closer to her, his hands instinctively resting above her shoulders while he fought within himself not to massage her tired muscles from dancing and grinding all over strangers for hours. A ritual he had grown fond of.

“I don’t know. You tell me, boyfriend?” Y/N eventually dared to snap back, her eyes turning into little darts all aiming at his puzzled face as she emphasized on the word ‘boyfriend’.

Confused, Yunho suddenly felt like he had been thrown into an impromptu game of Russian Roulette, looking for the answer that would spare him the inevitable execution. There was no sympathy in her eyes, only a fair mix of anger and judgement.

“Care to tell me why Kim Hongjoong and his men seemed to think we’re involved?” she finally spoke again, unable to deal with the sudden quietness between them, especially when she sincerely expected a valid reason for him to think it was okay to play pretend.

“I never said anything about us, I swear” with a quick shrug, Yunho felt smaller than ever, almost pathetic as he stammered through the weakest apologies he could serve. Nothing felt familiar anymore, from her body language to the complete deception in her eyes. She suddenly felt like a stranger, someone that couldn’t wait to get away from him, and that thought only was enough to tighten the knot growing into his stomach.

“I hope so. Cause there is no ‘us’…” though he had been preparing himself for years, each of these words felt like a single cut through his heart, like a dagger sinking into his flesh until it hit his bones, tearing him apart until there was nothing left of him but a pool of blood where every single one of his hopes had come to die.

Without a word, Yunho watched as Y/N removed the remaining of her make-up, pulled her long hair up into a neat ponytail and gathered her belongings, scattered all over the desk only to be thrown into her brown, leather bag. Not only was he hurt to the very core of his pride, but the way she was now avoiding any eye-contact with him made it unbearable to stand in the same room.

“He- uh…” he paused, coughing to give himself some composure, supposing he had any left, “He asked me to clean your schedule for the week, so… I guess you won’t have to see my face for a while, guess that’s convenient”.

He hated how pathetic and whiny he sounded right now, but nothing had ever come close to the pain he was experiencing as he watched the girl of his dreams changing from her stage fit to her casual clothes. When every man in town would die to see her walking around in a lacy thong, Yunho secretly loved this version of her the best. The one in regular jeans, sneakers, and a plain white tee-shirt. The real her.

“Yeah right” she scoffed, unimpressed.

“I’m serious, Y/N, that man isn’t playing” any other day, Yunho would have played along with her typical rebellious attitude, calling her smug for provoking a man that held the entire city into the palm of his hand, but regardless of the way she had crushed his soul seconds prior to this conversation, he still felt the urge to protect her.

“And neither am I” she coldly stated, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder as she walked toward the door, ready to call it a night.

“I’ll see you tomorrow” she added without a look or a single sign of sympathy, walking out the door as Yunho remained alone, standing in the middle of the room, powerless and petrified at the thought of the inevitable confrontation coming his way.

Hongjoong walked home in the middle of the night. Nothing out of habits, for a man whose business typically ran after sunset. Throwing his keys and taking his jacket off as he walked directly to the bathroom, he could hear the familiar yet unsettling buzzing sound coming with the deafening silence of his place.

With loneliness as his most faithful companion over the years, he had given up trying to make this apartment feel like home; simply because he didn’t know what ‘home’ was even supposed to feel like. All these ideals of a healthy household had died with his mother and now, the only memories of ever feeling ‘like home’ were starting to fade away with time.

The smell of freshly cooked meals, the sound of her laugh, the way she always pushed his hair back to plant a kiss on his forehead, the faded sound of her favorite records playing in the living room whenever his father was out. This was home to him.

On the cusp of turning 30, Hongjoong couldn't ignore the tragic irony of reaching an era his mother would never get to experience. Though he would always remember her at the prime of youth, there was some bittersweet aspect to the thought of never seeing her grow old.

Sometimes, when he would allow himself to bask into melancholy, Hongjoong liked to imagine what she’d look like with a few wrinkles and grey hair, how her voice would change with time, what it would feel like to grow up with a loving mother by his side. Would he be any different?

While the fantasies would change over time, his father never made it to the final cut. There was no place for this man and his toxicity in the perfect picture of a lifetime with his beloved mother.

And now here he was, an orphan trying to make himself a home without knowing where to start.

His place still matched the mystery of his aura, blissfully dark, expensive, and fashionably empty. High ceilings, large windows and concrete floor made this loft the perfect place to hide, perched on the last floor of the tallest building in town with the most breathtaking view on the skyline.

Hongjoong often felt like standing in a lighthouse with nothing but the darkness of the Sea ahead of him. Nothing to be seen on the surface but a pitch-black sky sparkled with stardust. But if he dared looking down through the city lights, Hongjoong could easily picture a family. A couple. Strangers living their lives, enjoying the most trivial things of a routine he was always dreading to step into. A father helping his daughter with her homework, bending over a geometry book on the dining table, a little boy playing with his dolls in his bedroom, two lovers snuggling on their couch.

Pieces of a life he would never get to experience, only because he didn’t belong into a ‘home’.

Rolling up his sleeves to unveil his tatted arms, a few bracelets, and a vintage watch, Hongjoong frowned at his reflection in the mirror as he splashed some cold water onto his face, pressing his fingers into his temples, hoping to make the reminiscing stop. He wouldn’t allow himself to dive into nostalgia when his present already held too much drama for him to take a break.

Still, while it was easy to push the family memories aside, one thought remained. One particular face he just couldn’t blink away that easily.

She was everywhere, her voice echoing through his brain like a broken record. The way her lips curved into a smile as she teased him, her plump thighs hiding that precious mole he was now dying to taste, the softness of her skin, the way her body reacted to his touch but not entirely – not as much as he wished. Hongjoong wasn’t typically the kind of man to give a girl any second thought. If anything, women were easy targets to him, and if his good looks weren’t enough to attract them, money always was.

Money could buy him anything, and if this girl wasn’t kneeling for him within the next hour, someone else would have to do, for now.

Grabbing his phone from his slack’s pocket, Hongjoong was quick to compose a text. Something extremely formal with a few instructions. The usual.

She walked through his doorstep less than thirty minutes later, as requested by the man holding the cash in one hand while the other invited her in. Though she was a regular, Hongjoong never dared to ask for her name. He didn’t need to know, didn’t even care.

“‘been a while, handsome “ She smiled, grabbing the cash from his hand without bothering with a recount. Hongjoong wasn’t a scam, like some of her clients. If anything, he often overpaid for the ridiculously short amount of time she was here. Not that she would complain about it.

“Let’s cut the talking for today” Hongjoong simply stated, unwilling to chit-chat as he gulped some leftover whisky from the glass on his coffee table, wiping his lips with the back of his hand as he settled himself on his brown, leather couch.

There wasn’t anything remotely romantic in the way he watched the girl kneel in front of him, her hands already busy with his belt like a task she had been given, and nothing more. A perfect play doll following his instructions while his mind already wandered somewhere else, away from here, away from her, and with a much more pleasant company.

With his head tilted back and his eyes closed, Hongjoong quickly allowed himself to wrap the girl’s hair into a fist as he thrusted himself deeper into the warmth of her welcoming throat, a simple growl escaping his own lips while his head started to fill with someone else’s face.

He could see her clearly now, her sparkly make-up already ruined, black lines rolling over her cheeks as she gagged slightly with a mouthful of him. She was taking him like a champ, the perfect, velvety walls of her mouth fitting like a glove to his throbbing cock. Her hands clenched into his thighs, tracing thin, red lines all over his skin while his eyes couldn’t get enough of the sight of her exposed back and the perfect dome of her ass, peaking from her skirt. He loved the idea of having her fully dressed and already drooling over his lap, too hungry to even undress herself, too eager to be fucked.

It wasn’t long until Hongjoong found himself losing control, one particular swirl of the girl’s tongue forcing him to dig his nails deeper into her scalp while she welcomed his release through a guttural moan – and even then, his body still shaking with pleasure and overstimulation as the girl made sure to swallow every last drop of him, Hongjoong couldn’t help but picture that glow on her face as she would look up, teary eyes and puffy lips as the perfect signs of a fucked-out state while still untouched.

“Looks like you’re ready for round 2, baby” the girl teased as she wiped the corner of her lips like she had just feasted on her favorite cake, pleasantly surprised to see him getting hard again while oblivious to the reason behind his extreme arousal. While she had done a decent job, all credits fully remained to a girl who was most likely asleep by now, miles away from being the main character in Hongjoong’s filthy scenarios.

Was she alone right now? Was she even sleeping? What if Yunho had failed at keeping his promise? What if he was the one filling her perfect mouth right now with his palm resting on her cheek, her vicious tongue playing with his balls as he claimed her repeatedly?

That thought only was enough to send him spiraling, anger making his blood boil into his veins. If he couldn’t have her immediately, no one could. Especially not Yunho.

“I’ll call you a cab” his tone was cold, typically detached as he fixed himself back into his pants, the moment long gone now that he couldn’t get away from the disturbing images of another man touching his girl. Though it was crazy to think of it, Hongjoong couldn’t help but claim her as his now that she was the only thing on his mind. He could easily picture himself losing sleep over it and go beyond measures to get her. Even if that meant having Yunho and every other man looking at her, buried six feet under.

The hooker was gone without much ceremony. Not that the situation deserved any.

Alone again with his thoughts for company, Hongjoong eventually crashed into his bed an hour later, knowing he wouldn’t get much sleep that night.

Y/N had been tossing and turning through the short amount of time she was asleep that night. Struggling to find her way into a peaceful slumber after the chaotic series of events happening at the club earlier. While she tried her best not to be an overthinker, picking her battles over silly misunderstandings, she hated to face any discomfort in her workplace. The one place where she felt strong enough to handle anything. She couldn’t allow any turbulence in her comfort zone, moreover if that meant losing a precious paycheck. Something she couldn’t afford.

Stretching into her bed, Y/N looked nothing like the girl she was on stage the night before. With her long hair pulled into a bun gone messier over her sleepless night and her body wrapped into an oversized shirt that could easily pass as a dress, she fitted perfectly as the girl-next-door with her face fresh of any make-up.

Her bedroom looked exactly the same as it did years ago, when she was still a teenager running from school to her student job in the evening, trying to make ends meet so she could afford medication and a decent living for her grand-mother; walls covered with pictures of a younger version of herself with her friends backpacking through Europe, a massive poster of her favorite film, Moulin Rouge above her bed and a closet full of clothes she barely had enough time to wear with her crazy schedule at the club.

Her peaceful awakening was suddenly cut short when hearing voices coming from the living room. Voices she could instantly identify as her grand mother’s and the one person she didn’t want to see, especially first thing in the morning.

Tearing herself off the comfort of her bed, Y/N escaped her bedroom, reluctantly dragging herself toward the living-room where she was inevitably faced with her favorite person in the world and Yunho, sharing some obviously pleasant conversation.

“Good morning, sweetpea!” Joan was a 72-year-old woman living with early stage of dementia and the closest thing to a mother Y/N had been granted with, since her own birth mother had decided she wasn’t built to be a mom and bailed on her before she even turned two.

“Hi nan’ … did you take your meds yet?” Y/N purposely ignored Yunho’s presence, checking for her grand mother’s pill container to double check.

“Of course I did – Yunho brought my favorite pastries for breakfast, isn’t he a sweetheart?” She couldn’t blame her grandmother, not even when she reached for Yunho’s face, pinching his cheek like he was some good puppy playing fetch with her. Still, she couldn’t find the strength to play pretend, especially without her morning coffee.

Yunho watched as Y/N kept ignoring him, his rounded eyes desperately looking for her attention behind his glasses. If anything, he looked like the perfect boyfriend with his nice polo shirt and his perfectly tamed hair. A man she knew Joan was secretly hoping her granddaughter would eventually marry, regardless of her unwillingness to be wed.

Without a clue what to answer, Y/N gave her grandmother a quick nod as she escaped toward the kitchen, aiming directly for the coffee machine. Yunho was quick to follow her steps, excusing himself while Joan’s attention was back on her favorite morning tv show.

“So we’re not even talking now?” he dared to ask as he walked close enough for her to feel the warmth of his body behind her back.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Can’t you take a hint?” she was genuinely mad now. Mad at him for showing up and forcing his perfect boy agenda on her grandmother, mad at her for allowing him to feel comfortable to do so and for some obscure reasons, mad at Kim Hongjoong for making her feel all of this altogether.

“I came here to apologize”

The sound of the coffee machine gave Y/N some much needed break into a conversation she didn’t want to be part of, her hand clenching around her favorite mug so it wouldn’t fall off the counter from the hectic vibration of the ancient appliance she had promised herself to upgrade as soon as possible.

With barely enough money to pay rent and take care of her grandmother’s condition, Y/N was often faced with the most superficial cravings, like having a perfect espresso machine and decent coffee in the morning instead of whatever dishwater she was having now.

“So you do have something to apologize for” she scoffed, taking a painful first sip as she finally faced her friend. Yunho looked sincerely sorry, his eyebrows knitted together as he reached for her arm, hoping she wouldn’t snap again. To his own surprise, she didn’t move.

“I’m sorry if I made it seem like I was claiming you… I know you’re not mine… or anyone’s… I just freaked out” he paused, reminiscing the events as he recalled Hongjoong’s words and the way his eyes were glued to his favorite girl’s every feature. “I’m just scared he might hurt you… Hongjoong is a scary man with power, god knows what he could—”

“I am not a child, for fuck’s sake! I can defend myself. It’s not your place to protect me!”

Her mug was back on the counter, almost breaking from being smashed against the surface as she felt anger boiling inside of her all over again.

“That’s the thing. I don’t know my place. What am I to you, exactly?”

Though it hurt him to even ask, Yunho couldn’t handle the uncertainty of his role into her life. Still, when he was faced with complete silence, it felt like his heart was slowly dropping into his chest, shredding into pieces.

“I see. Guess that’s my answer” he added, mostly nodding to himself as he pushed himself off the counter, reaching for her face to palm her cheek tenderly “just be careful alright? If I can’t protect you, no one will” he whispered, almost painfully.

Without a word, Y/N watched as he escaped the kitchen, peaking through the door to see him kiss Joan on the cheek, apologizing for leaving already with some work emergency as an excuse.

Guilt only found its way into her stomach as the front door closed behind Yunho.

“What’s on your mind, sweet pea?”

Y/N was now sitting on the floor in front of her grand-mother’s armchair, picking at a pastry while watching a silver haired TV anchor trying to sell some miracle vacuum cleaner on the shopping channel. She didn’t know why Joan loved these programs so much, but somehow, the old woman found some thrill in dreaming about appliances she couldn’t afford. Y/N loved to think she was a hopeless dreamer while secretly hoping she would someday afford to give her grandmother the life she deserved. A beautiful house filled with all the ridiculously pricy items she saw on TV.

“Nothing, just tired” she lied while Joan brushed her fingers through her granddaughter’s hair lovingly, pulling it into a nicely tamed ponytail just like when she used to be a little girl. Sometimes Joan would act like Y/N was still a child, struggling to anchor herself into present, but Y/N loved her way too much to complain, even if it meant for her to play pretend and allow herself to be groomed.

“I really like Yunho. He’s a good man.” Joan suddenly announced, her bony fingers resting upon her granddaughter’s shoulders as she massaged her sore muscles slowly.

“He is”

There was no point denying it. Yunho was a good man by definition.

“I think he really loves you, you know?”

Again, Y/N couldn’t find a single lie within herself to deny Joan’s statement. Anyone seeing them interact could tell Yunho was madly in love with her, though he never said the words to her face. It was easy to see the signs.

“I know” she simply added, her eyes suddenly heavier as her lack of sleep finally fought back. Within a few minutes, Y/N was curling up against her grandmother’s leg, her cheek resting above her lap as she fell back asleep under Joan’s sweet embrace.

Hongjoong only left his place at dusk, escaping his building only to disappear into a black, sedan car with tinted windows. Streets had been emptied earlier in the evening when a storm had wrapped the city into a gloomy atmosphere no one seemed to be equipped for. Sitting in the front behind the wheel, San turned the engine off as soon as his best-friend sat beside him on the passenger seat.

“Found anything?” Hongjoong asked before he even greeted his friend, stone cold as ever.

“Well—her name’s Y/N, she lives in the slum part of town… From what I get she’s her grandmother’s caretaker… Not much about the rest of her family so far… Got her address, phone number…”

Hongjoong welcomed every information with a simple nod while San scrolled through a couple pictures on his phone, mostly from her neighborhood.

“Anything else?” he finally dared to ask, knowing his friend enough to realize he was definitely hiding the key part of his investigation.

“You’re not gonna like it, man…” San sighed, his thumb scrolling to the next picture and zooming in so his boss could see a clearer version of Yunho escaping Y/N’s building first thing in the morning—and though Hongjoong remained silent, the way his jaw instantly clenched at the sight of him was enough of a sign to let his friend know about his next move.

“How long was he in there?” he finally asked, eyes filled with nothing but rage.

“Couple hours, I’d say two for the most—enough for a good fuck, if you ask me”

“No one fucking asked you” Hongjoong snapped, pulling his gaze off the phone screen to watch the storm outside the window, his fingers fiddling with his rings while figuring out a plan from the new information he had just been given.

“Well that’s unfortunate” he added, recalling Yunho’s faithful behavior through the years and how he had proven himself to be a fairly loyal and trustworthy associate. “Now we’ll have to teach him a lesson…”

“Want me to kill the guy?” San dared to ask like it was the only option left. Merely a daily task he was used to, by now.

“Just make sure he gets the message for now” Hongjoong added, his fist making a beat against the car door as he tried his best to compose himself, images of Yunho and Y/N together filling his brain to the point he couldn’t even think straight anymore.

“And I want someone to follow her every move. I want to know where she is, who she talks to, what she eats, anything. And if Yunho shows up again, I want you to call me immediately so I can take care of him myself. Are we clear?”

“Crystal” San nodded, starting the engine again as the tension in the car kept building up.

“Where to?” the right-hand man dared to ask after a while, only to be faced with Hongjoong’s stern look, his eyebrows knitted together with a mix of concern and anger he had rarely seen on his best-friend’s face.

“You know damn right where” Hongjoong simply stated, his eyes never leaving the road as San quickly took the next turn, heading toward the club.

#newworldnet #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong #ateez

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bamboozledbird · 22 days

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𝕚𝕗 𝕚 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 pt.2 // stiles stilinski imagine

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, fem!reader, Theo Raeken, Lydia Martin Pairing(s): Stiles x you, Theo x you (no use of y/n) Word Count: 5.3k Tags: a fix-it for y'all bc i'm a pushover Warnings: Underage drinking (at least in america rip, they're all 19+), creepy guys in bars, emetophobia, new jersey slander (please forgive me jerseyans)

Request: for all you people i made cry with part 1. this is my love letter to you. A/N: you don't necessarily need to read part 1 to understand, but this is a follow-up to if i could lose you i would.

The night starts well enough. Theo’s hand is a warm, steadying weight against your lower back, and his cologne cuts through the vague funky smell clouding the bar. Lydia chose it; somehow, no matter the city, she always found the coolest, underground spots that seemed to only circulate within an elite circle of twentysomethings. It really isn’t all that shocking when you think about it as you nurse your bitter cocktail; every single person who catches a glimpse of Lydia immediately craves her attention. Unfortunately for them, Lydia always takes you as her date, though lately she’s been ending your nights out at a stranger's apartment more often than not. She’s never said it, but you know it’s because, ever since the disastrous end to her start-of-summer bash, Theo's made himself a permanent third-wheel on girls’ night. He’s never said it, but you know he started tagging along because you’ve been distant since Stiles poured into your bedroom and pressed on all the bruises his fingertips left behind when he left you. You really thought you’d washed them all away with 3,000 miles, 3 months, and 3 weeks of the scrape of Theo’s teeth.

You sip on your fourth drink of the evening, sitting on a barstool because your legs are too wobbly to stand on, and Theo watches you watch Lydia spin a girl with a radiant smile and glitter tinsel in her hair.

“You wanna dance?” he hums in your ear. You can barely hear him over the bass and the buzz of too much tequila.

You nibble on your straw and hiccup around it, “Don’t think I can.”

Theo makes a move to grab the drink in your hand, and you bend backwards to keep it out of his reach. “Come on,” he frowns, “you can’t even stand.”

“So?” you purse your lips petulantly and punctuate your point with a loud suck, draining the last few drops of your lime margarita through a few chunks of leftover ice.

Theo looks tired as he studies your face. “What the hell is going on with you? I see you every day, and I still don’t have a fucking clue.”

You’re too drunk to pretend you don’t know what he’s talking about. Hiccupping again, your nose scrunches, “I’m just…I wanna go home.” Theo pats his jacket pockets for his keys, and you shake your head a few too many times. “No, not there.” Your stomach turns when you finally realize what you actually mean. You want to hitch a ride on the melting ice in your glass and dissolve into knotted hair on Sunday mornings, freckled skin washed with the shifting sun, and pouted pink lips, cursing the snooze button and your cold toes. You don’t say that. You’re drunk, not cruel. “I wanna go back to Stanford. I hate it here.”

Theo’s eyes are shadowed in the dim light of the club, but they’re calculating. “You really think that’s far enough?”

Blinking slowly, your mind spins with the drinks in your stomach as you try and fail to think of something clever. “Feels far,” you mumble, and Theo doesn’t look reassured. It’s hard for you to differentiate pain from anger through watery eyes and the brume of tequila, but whatever emotion is darkening Theo’s expression, you think it’s justified. He’s smart enough to know what you mean.

His face goes blank as he searches for his keys again, “I think that’s enough fun for tonight.”

You shake your head and wriggle down further into the cradle of your hips, “I wanna stay.”

Theo exhales through his nose and runs a hand over his face, “I thought you wanted to go home.”

Your tongue is thick as you struggle for words, sniffling as they tease you from the fraying edges of consciousness. “Not there.” You know you sound like a baby, recycling the handful of words you can remember, and you know that tears will only make it worse, but they still bubble along your lash line.

“Stay at Lydia’s then,” Theo spits out through gritted teeth, but he shoves a napkin towards you to mop up your running mascara, so you forgive him. It’s your fault, after all. At least, you think so as you watch him leave.

“Boyfriend troubles?” Your head lulls to the side as you blink dumbly, all big-eyed and glassy, at the stranger leaning against the bar beside you. He’s tall, well-built too, but you’re mostly focused on his pungent cologne. It’s hard not to; you’re suffocating in it.

The man laughs and grabs your chin, shaking your head a little, “You’re adorable. How could anyone stay mad at you?”

You recoil, wrenching your face from his sweaty grasp, and run your tongue over your teeth. “He’s not…” your protest gets lost in your throat when he steps into your space and slides his hand along your spine, just shy of your ass. Your dress is backless, completely exposed to his wandering gaze, and your skin crawls with the sensation of his fingertips grazing your back.

His breath is hot and wet on the shell of your ear, “You want to forget about it for a while, angel?”

“No,” your head jerks from side to side, eyes screwed shut, “I don’t—I think I’m gonna puke.”

A wave of relief rolls over you when a red-taloned hand slithers between your bodies. Lydia shoves the stranger’s chest sharply, sending him stumbling into the stool behind him, and his hand falls from your hip.

“Does it look like she wants to contract something from a limp-dicked lowlife in tacky shoes?” The top of Lydia’s head barely reaches his shoulder, but her eyes are sharp and her sneer is venomous. The creep has the good sense to look a little afraid. “You have exactly two seconds to get the hell out of here before I personally ensure you’re on every public sex offender registry from here to Quebec.”

She grabs your hand before he has the chance to disagree and pulls you into the bathroom. In comparison to the loud, muggy dancefloor, it’s a wonderful reprieve: an oasis of cold air and muffled bass.

Lydia fusses over you for a minute; you wave off her concerns and push yourself onto the sink even though your arms feel distinctly gelatinous. You can tell she doesn’t believe you, but men preying on drunk women is a tragically large and present underbelly of girl world, so after a moment she turns her intense focus to the lighted mirror. She looks perfect—she always looks perfect—but she won’t believe anyone except her own reflection.

The aching strain in your arches slowly dissipates to a faint tingle the longer your feet dangle from the counter, your heels discarded below. They’re black strappy things from the back of Lydia’s closet, and so is the scrap of black silk that Prada had the audacity to call a dress. You are grateful, however, for the short hem and open back now that your skin finally has the chance to breathe.

You watch Lydia apply her lipstick with a precision brain surgeons could only dream of, smiling lazily. She’s graceful with the slender brush, like Botticelli stroking a swathe of red silk over a canvas of smooth skin. You envy her, with your eyeshadow already melting below your waterline, but mostly you love her. So proud to have such a goddess for a best friend.

Her head tilts as she smiles at you, and she must be at least a little godly because she doesn’t smear her lipstick when her mouth curves. “What?” she hums around her puckered lips.

“Nothing,” your words slur together, “you’re just perfect.”

She tucks her lipstick into her clutch and shakes her head, “And you’re so drunk. Lethal, babe.”

“I love it,” you sigh as she starts fixing your hair, clicking her tongue when you start to fidget. You slump into her careful touch and watch her fingers smooth through a few knots near your ends. “Being drunk is my favorite.”

She twirls her finger, indicating you should turn around, and begins twisting your flattened curls into an elegant bun. “I’ve noticed,” she mutters through the bobby pin clutched between her teeth, “you’ve been drinking more than you’ve sober lately.”

“It’s summer!” You blow a curl off of your nose and close your teary eyes so that your mascara doesn’t flake onto your cheeks, “You’re supposed to be drunk.”

Lydia hums and pulls a few strands of hair loose to artfully frame your face. “I didn’t realize alcoholism was seasonal.”

“You,” you bop her nose and giggle when it scrunches under your finger, “are being a major buzzkill. Don’t kill my buzz; that’s murder in the first.”

“Someone has to be.” Lydia leans her hip against the sink, and her brows curve, “Where’s Theo? I thought he was your DD tonight?”

You let the intoxication sweep over your senses because it’s easy and knock your ankles together like a child on the swings. “He left,” you chirp.

“He what?”

Your bottom lip juts out a little, “I think I hurt his feelings.”

Lydia is incensed. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and mutters a few choice words under her breath, “I’m going to hurt a lot more than that when I find him.” You curl in on yourself a little, and she sighs, unwinding her fingers from tight fists as her eyes soften. “He really left you here?” she asks quietly.

You shrug, refusing to feel sorry for yourself, and make grabby hands at her sleeves, “It’s okay. You’re here, and you’re my best friend, and I love you.”

She laces your fingers together and squeezes your hand, “It is not okay. That creep had you halfway to his car.”

You shudder at memory, and feel the ghost of the stranger’s clammy hand against your lower back, “But you rescued me. So it’s okay.”

You frown at Lydia’s frown and push her cheeks together, squishing her mouth into a crinkled half-smile. She rolls her eyes a little and takes your wrists in her hands gently, “He shouldn’t have left you. It was a shitty thing to do, babe.”

“I made him sad, I think.” You hiccup a little, “I think I always do.”

“He can’t leave you blackout drunk in a skeezy bar just because you’re in love with someone else,” she huffs.

You tease the tip of your tongue through your front teeth, swinging your legs back and forth below the sink, “It wasn’t skeezy when you picked it.”

Lydia huffs again and folds her arms over her chest, “That was before I saw tall, dark, and creepy try to take you home.”

Your playful grin crumbles as your drunk-numb mind finally catches up with the burning behind your ribs. “I’m in love with someone else,” you say, voice sticky and thick in your throat.

She lets out a sigh so soft you wonder if you just imagined it and takes both of your hands, “I know.”

Whimpering quietly, you turn your nose into your shoulder, slightly embarrassed by the sound. “I’m sad about it.”

“I know,” Lydia combs a few strands of your hair off of your tear-tacky face and smiles a little, “let’s get you home, okay?”

Another round of nausea hits you as you finally realize that you’re truly, really, horrifically drunk, and you still can’t forget him.

“I don’t think I know where that is anymore.”

Lydia was able to corral you into an Uber after you puked a few times. She held your hair back and helped you brush your teeth. You cried a little when she wiped the sweat off of your face with a makeup wipe, watching her take care of you with big wet eyes, as she tucked you into bed like the baby tequila and heartbreak had turned you into. She made you promise to call her in the morning, and then she left you to sleep off the ache in your throat and the six margaritas in your bloodstream—or was it seven, you can’t remember.

You can’t remember much, it seems. You scroll through your feed for a while and squint at the blurry splotches of color, trying to recall if you were good enough friends with the girl from software systems to leave a comment on her post about how hot she looks in red. Your fingers drift, swiping away from Instagram to the only thing you remember. The thing you’ll always remember.

The phone rings exactly two times.

“Hi.” It’s the only thing you can think of besides, ‘I love you. I love you. I love you. Please make it stop.’

“Hey.” You listen to Stiles breathe on the other side of the line and snuggle further into your pillow. “You there?”

His voice is soft in your ear, and your eyes go lidded, “Uh huh.”

He clears his throat, “What are you doing up this late?”

You twist around your sheets, and the tip of your tongue pokes out at your phone. Apparently, you’ve also forgotten that he can’t see you. “What are you doing up this late?”

“It’s uh,” Stiles pauses and there’s a rustling sound on his side of the line, “almost 8 here.”

You blink and frown at the time on your screen, “Nuh uh.”

There’s a pause; you hate it. You want him to keep talking until you fall asleep. He finally sighs, “Are you drunk?”

Your tongue pokes out again, “I’m not the one who can’t tell time.”

“Baby,” your heart skips and your breath hitches, and he must be tired because he doesn’t seem to notice the slip, “we’re in different time zones.”

Your heart stumbles over the skip this time, and it feels a lot like flatlining. “You went back already?”

“I, uh,” he shifts, must be in his desk chair because you can hear something rolling, “my lease started. Figured if I’m paying to live in Philly, I should actually, y’know, live in Philly.”

“Oh.” One little syllable, and it’s heavy with so many things you can’t bring yourself to dwell on it.

“Yeah.”

“So, uh,” you hear him scratch at something, most likely the back of his neck because he sounds anxious, “why’d you call?” He’s quick to correct himself, words overlapping like ripples in a creek, “Not that I’m not glad you called; I’m stoked you called—or maybe something a little less embarrassing—but I, uh,” there’s that scratching sound again and a quiet thudding of drumming fingers, “I really didn’t think you would.”

“Dunno,” there’s a smile in your voice, but you aren’t sure if he can hear it through the wobble, “just started dialin’, n’ I ended up here.”

He stands, and the phone shifts against his cheek as he starts to pace, “Where are you?” He sounds worried. You frown—you don’t want him to worry. You want him to hold you.

“Home,” you pause, nose wrinkling because that’s not quite right, and then add, “my house.”

“Did you drink anything?”

“Clearly.”

You can hear the eye roll from the other side of the country when he huffs into the phone, “I meant water. Did you drink any water?”

“Uh,” you nibble on your lip, “yes?”

He huffs again, but this time you can tell he’s smiling, “Get up and get some water—Advil too. Put it on top of whatever book you’re reading so it doesn’t get lost in your pile of shitty chapsticks and hair thingies.”

Your eyes cross, affronted, “They are not shitty.”

“They’re an endless cycle of chapped hell.”

“But they taste good,” you grumble, cuddling your pillow to your chest.

He’s smirking; you know it. “Oh, I know.”

You both just breathe through the line for a long moment, remembering the same slick slide of lips and tongues.

“I miss you,” you whisper.

Stiles inhales sharply, “I miss you too.”

“No,” you shake your head, smearing mascara on your pillowcase, “I miss you.” Your mouth is dry, and you can’t find the right words to explain it, how he’s apart from you even when he’s standing right there. There just aren’t enough words in the English language to explain the ache in the marrow of your ribs, how he still lingers inside your skin like some kind of fucked-up, agonizing osmosis, how you love him so tortuously, so effortlessly. Indefinitely.

You can’t explain, but when he whispers, “Yeah, me too,” you know he knows.

You sniffle and hiccup a few times, and a sigh crackles through your speaker. “Drink some water for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper. You roll onto your stomach and sit up a little on your elbows, “Will you stay?”

“Yeah, baby,” his chair squeaks as he sits back down, “‘till you fall asleep.”

“Promise?” Your voice is thick, like you’ve been crying for hours, and Stiles’s voice is tight when he finally replies.

“Promise.”

You wake up with dry eyes and a rank taste in your mouth. There’s a glass of water and a handful of Advil on your nightstand, and you just know. You’ve known for a while actually, maybe forever, but you can’t pretend you don’t anymore.

Theo seems to know why you invited him over so early on a Sunday morning. He doesn’t even look sad when you officially end it, and you wonder if it’s because he knew it was over a long time ago. You wish, selfishly, that he would’ve let you in on the secret so that you could’ve avoided all this. You hug him before he leaves, and it’s stiff and awkward, and you feel a little shitty about the whole thing—but it doesn’t feel wrong.

You feel like yourself for the first time in a long time, and that feels good.

Summer is almost over, and you don’t have the time to obsess over all your wanting. All the air leaves your body sometimes, no room for anything but honey, veins, and new stubble, but you have so much to do. There’s no time for drowning when you’ve only got a few weeks before the semester starts.

You don’t even have the time to acknowledge the nerves wriggling up your esophagus until you’re standing in front of a black door. Your screen is lit with the address Scott texted you, along with roughly 100 exclamation points and a dozen or so brain explosion, party popper, and happy face emojis. They steady you as you knock on the splintering door. The unit is cute and quaint, and you distract yourself by getting a better look at the sage green columns.

Stiles opens the door, looking disarmingly soft in his worn sweatpants and stretched-out t-shirt—like cuddling on the weekend, like playing video games until sunrise, like home.

He blinks at you slowly, pretty pink mouth slightly ajar, and you shift on the soles of your sneakers, jamming your hands into your hoodie pockets. “Hey.”

He blinks some more and seems to be only capable of repeating what he hears, “Hey.”

“So,” you dig the toe of your shoe into the porch, staring at a warped patch, curved from seasons of melting snow, and shrug, “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d drop by.”

He recovers from his stupor and leans against the doorframe, hands tucked under his armpits. “You were in the neighborhood,” his head tilts with his arched brow, “in Philadelphia.”

“Well,” you try not not to smile, “it was on my way.”

Nodding, Stiles rubs his chin and purses his lips. You want to kiss the smirk off of his stupid face. “Right, the classic eastbound Stanford route.”

“Not quite.” You adjust the strap of your duffle bag on your shoulder, easing some of the ache pinching at the base of your skull, “New transfer orientation is on Monday. Turns out Princeton’s comp sci department is decent.”

His face becomes guarded, but there’s a little something like hope behind the uncertainty, “4th in the country.”

Something warm inside your stomach flutters. He knows. Of course, he knows. He probably researched it all the way back in high school. You brush your hair out of your eyes and hum, “Mhm.”

Stiles slides his socked foot back and forth, slipping on the polished floor of his cozy entryway, and he catches himself on the doorknob. You laugh until he says, “Stanford’s 2nd.”

Your shoulder lifts, stiff and sharp, “That's correct.”

His chin dips as he searches your face for something. You smile at him, and he swallows; it looks painful. “You turned down MIT because it was too far from home.”

“That's also correct,” you say quietly with a jerky nod.

His eyes go wide as he shakes his head, almost violently, and he almost slips again with the dramatic effort, “MIT’s 1st in comp-sci.”

You steady him with a palm against his chest, swiping your thumb over his ribs. His heart thrashes under your touch, and your face lifts with a timid, tender smile. “Sure, but Princeton’s ranked #1 nationally. Overall champs, baby. Suck it.”

Stiles finally smiles, but it’s hesitant. “You don’t say.”

You let a breathy exhale and drop your hands to your sides, curling and uncurling your fingers into tight fists. He’s still looking at you, a cute little wrinkle in-between his brows, waiting for something more. Fair enough. He kind of laid it all out on the line the last time you spoke—he kind of deserves to stew a little after everything, but you’ve forgiven him, decided you want to be happy more than you want to punish him.

You roll your shoulders back and tilt your chin to meet his gaze. “I don’t believe in soulmates.”

Stiles’s face goes sour, and he crosses his arms firmly over his chest, mouth twitching between a pout and a frown. “You stopped in Philly just to tell me tha—”

You rock onto your tiptoes to press a finger to his lips, biting back a smile when they pucker like a fish, and say, “Will you kindly shut it for a minute? I need to get through this. I practiced a lot on the plane.” His eyes narrow, sullen and irritated, but he keeps his lips pressed together, waiting impatiently for you to finish. You slip your finger from his mouth to cup his jaw, thumbing just below his cheekbone, and his body goes lax, irritation slowly seeping from his lanky limbs to the floor.

Grinning, you poke the tip of your tongue at him, and he swallows hard as he tracks the movement. “As I was saying,” you smile through the snark and slide your hands to his chest, resting against the vibration of his thudding heart, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I don’t think there’s just one person out there for everyone—but that’s a good thing, right? I mean, the entire concept of a soulmate is basically just a blackhole. You’re falling, and falling, and falling—and there’s no end; you’re just trapped. There's no choice. I don’t want to love like that—I don’t want to love you like that.”

It’s cute, the way his face screws up around a theory. It’s a familiar expression, and you can’t help but melt at the knees while you watch his eyes flick back and forth, adding up all your expressions and trying to calculate the meaning. The corner of your mouth pulls into a slip of a smile, “If I turned around right now and never saw you again, I’d be okay. I mean, I wouldn’t drop dead or anything.”

He sucks in sharply, head jerking back, “What the fu—”

“Hush, I’m almost done.” You keep going before he can interrupt you again, rushing through the rest of your speech, running out of air and restraint, “I think that I could get over you, eventually, years and years from now—but the point is—what I realized is: I don’t want to. I don’t want to get over you. I don’t want to find someone else. Stiles, I love you—I’m in love with you, and I really think tha—”

His lips are wet and warm against yours, and you whine softly into his mouth at the familiarity. He hooks his thumbs in the belt loops on your jeans and yanks you closer, until your chests are pressed together and you can feel him breathe. You were right—the beard burn is delectable.

The kiss slows into something less desperate, something more like forever, and Stiles brushes his lips over yours in a few chaste pecks. When your lashes finally flutter open, you see that he’s grinning at you. It’s so wide, so happy, and his eyes crinkle at the corners as he says, “Sorry, you just would not shut up, so I figured it was either kiss you or shove something in your big mouth—and I’m not super confident in my CPR retention. Scott and I really spent most of the time figuring out how many pencils we could fit into the dummy’s mouth.”

“I take it back.” You push his face away from you, but a laugh bubbles past your swollen lips when Stiles pinches your waist. “I hate you.”

“Nope. No refunds.” Stiles shakes his head solemnly and wraps his hand around your hip, squeezing possessively, “You kiss it, you buy it. That’s what Coach said about the dummy.”

“Well,” your arms find their way around his neck, and your fingers wind into the soft hair curling behind his ears, “you are a dummy.”

“The dumbest,” he agrees. He’s smiling, but his eyes are sincere, cloudy with guilt. “Baby, I never should’ve—”

You take great satisfaction in your turn shutting him up with a kiss, tugging on his hair until you’re on your tiptoes and he’s groaning into your mouth. “I think we’ve been miserable for a long time,” you whisper, breath ghosting across his shiny lips. He shivers, and you press your temple against his forehead, “I think I’ve had enough of it. How ‘bout you?”

Stiles nods quickly and dips in to kiss you again. “Can I say sorry one more time?” he mumbles, kissing the ridge of your ear.

“I suppose,” you sigh and fall back onto your heels.

He takes your bag from your shoulder and guides you into his apartment, kicking the door shut so that he doesn’t have to let go of your hand. There’s a thud as he drops the duffle bag onto the floor, and you barely have the time to take-in the ratty little sofa and coffee table piled with empty pizza boxes before he’s on you again. “I’m,” he kisses the corner of your mouth, and it twitches with the contact, “so,” his lips trail to your cheek, “very,” he presses a kiss to your temple, “truly,” to your hairline, “forever-ly,” to the tip of your nose, “sorry,” to your mouth.

You sigh as he settles in for a real kiss and fall back onto the couch with him on top of you, disrupting his rhythm with a breathy giggle. He braces his weight onto his arms, and you wriggle down until your face is directly below his. “Hi,” you trace his bottom lip with your finger, smiling when he purses his lips to kiss it.

“Hey.” He looks drunk: cheeks flushed, eyes hazy with pleasure, body loose and free from critical thinking—and you think to yourself that you’d do just about anything to make sure he’s this happy for the rest of his life.

Stiles rolls, bringing you into his side with an arm around your waist, and presses against your lower back until you're crushed against him. Still, you squirm closer. Neither of you say anything for a long time, content with the sound of each other’s breathing, and then Stiles hums in his throat a little and plays with the ends of your hair, “So. You’re gonna live in New Jersey.”

“Yup,” your mouth pops with the ‘p.’

He grins, “Wow. You must, like, really love me or something.”

“Or something,” you tease, and he bites your shoulder in retaliation.

“Jersey isn’t so bad,” his voice is muffled against his teeth, still embedded in your sweatshirt. Well, his technically.

You laugh, “It’s not?”

“Nah,” Stiles pulls back to look at you and scratches at the back of his neck, lifting a shoulder, “wouldn’t mind living there for the…beaches.”

“The Shore, you mean?” you grin, trying to imagine Stiles with a bad spray tan and slicked back hair.

He grins right back and strokes your cheek, “Yeah, I’d move there for the Shore. I’ve actually been searching for just the right opportunity to show off my scrawny arms and pasty complexion. It’s like, what, a 40 minute drive to Penn?”

“Trenton would be around that, but I was thinking Pennypack would only be 30 from Princeton.” Stiles looks at you through lidded eyes, suspicious. You grin, “For the cheesesteaks, obviously.”

“Obviously,” he quips, but you can tell his heart isn’t in it. His face turns serious as he whispers, “You don’t have to do this,” into the quiet air humming between you. “I would’ve transferred to a school in California if I knew you still wanted me.” A flash of something ignites behind his eyes, warming the amber to whiskey, and he sits up a little, reaching over your head for his phone, “I’ll do it right now.”

You clutch his wrist and shake your head, pulling on his arm until he’s close enough to feel your lashes brush against his skin, “That’s why I didn’t ask. You’ve been dreaming about this program your entire life.”

Stiles is unusually still as he stares you down. His incisor digs into his bottom lip with a cruel bite, “What about your dreams?”

You huff, “What part of #1 don’t you get? I literally just told you to suck it. In case you forgot, I cordially invite you to suck it again, #6.” He smiles, but his eyes remain unconvinced. Your face softens, all the muscles and cartilage going gooey with affection, “It was never about Stanford, Stiles. It was about home. Guess it took you going away to figure out home is with you.”

His lashes flutter slowly as he blinks, shaking his head, tongue running over his teeth as he struggles for air and words in equal measure. You kiss him until he finds them. “I know you don’t believe in it,” Stiles breathes out, “but I don’t think I could survive you being gone. Not again.”

You stroke over the planes of his face and hum thoughtfully, “I believe you wouldn’t want to.” Your shoulder twitches with a quick shrug as you add, “I know I don’t.”

His mouth chases your fingertips, pressing kisses to them every so often, and he closes his eyes heavily—like he hasn’t slept in months, maybe since the night he broke up with you. “These last few months have been just the fuckin’ worst,” he finally manages a smirk after you kiss his nose in agreement, “like a fuckzillion times worse than the summer I broke my leg, and you and Scott signed up for rec soccer without me.”

“You’ve got to let that go,” your voice is high and whiny, and Stiles’s smirk widens, “we didn’t even win any games.” You tickle him, heart leaping into your throat when he laughs and squirms away from your relentless fingers, “Didn’t have our good luck charm with us, obviously.”

“Obviously,” his grin is smug with satisfaction. Stiles tangles your legs together, legs clunking clumsily but that’s just part of the delicious charm, and hooks his chin over your shoulder, “So, Pennypack, huh.”

You nod, “I really don’t want to live in Jersey.”

You can’t see him, but Stiles peers at you, a little dubious, a lot fond. “And it’s not just for me?”

You grin, caught, and shake your head firmly, “Absolutely not.”

“It’s for the cheesesteaks,” his brow arches, and he seems to finally understand when the room becomes a swathe your smile, of your bubbling laughter: He makes you as happy as you make him.

“Obviously.” You mean, I love you, I love you, I love you, and I never ever want to stop. Stiles hears it, of course he does, and he says it back, sealing it with a kiss, “Obviously.”

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wherethefireliliesgrow · 1 year

Text

High School

Kim Minji x Reader

Part 2

GENRE: angst, slight fluff

TAGS: high school, right person wrong time

TYPE: Two Shot Inspired by: High School- Alexander 23

When the name Kim Minji is mentioned, people immediately associate her with being the oldest member of one of the world's biggest girl groups. They think of her elegant visuals, unwavering talent, and professional mannerism on screen. It's hard to determine whether it's a blessing or a curse to be the one who knows her true self off-screen. You were the only person who witnessed her relentless dedication to achieving her dreams of becoming an idol, the sparkle in her eyes at the mention of her favorite flavored ice cream, her self-consciousness about her ears, and the sweetness of her lips when they were locked with yours. At least, you used to know all of these things.

You both crossed paths on the very first day of high school, a tale that could be described as a cliché love story. Fate placed you together in the chemistry class, but instead of finding chemistry within the subject, you discovered it between yourselves (resulting in your failed class, as you were too distracted by her). From the moment your eyes met, you were immediately captivated by her presence. Her shy smile, causing her eyes to squint into crescent moons, enchanted you completely.

A powerful connection effortlessly formed between the two of you, and you quickly became inseparable best friends. Over time, your circle expanded, gradually incorporating more people. She possessed a magnetic charm, attracting others to her like the sun in your small high school solar system, while you and your friends orbited around her like planets.

Despite her growing popularity and busier schedule as the captain of the school's dance team, she never let you slip from her thoughts. She would eagerly whisk you away to museums, dance rehearsals, and amusement parks, making sure you were always a part of her life. You were her best friend, as she was yours. Nights were spent in the warmth of her embrace as you stayed over at her house, seeking comfort after long hours of homework, and days consisted of the two of you finding each other in school hallways after going to different classes.

"I missed you," Minji would always say, a warm smile spreading across her face as you reunited in the bustling hallway. With a casual ease, the taller girl would sling your bag onto her back and intertwine her fingers with yours, walking you to your next class.

Your friends often teased, playfully suggesting that your relationship seemed more like dating than mere friendship. Blushing, you would shyly deny their claims, even though the racing of your heart whenever she pulled you close, betrayed your true feelings. Deep down, you yearned for something more, but it remained unspoken, concealed beneath the surface of your friendship.

Luckily, Minji thought the same thing, as she finally mustered up the courage to ask you out on the last day of your second year in high school. She had called you after her dance practice, telling you to meet her outside your house. Opening the door, you discovered her nervously fidgeting, concealing something behind her back. It took several attempts to get her attention, and when her eyes finally met yours, her face flushed a bright shade of red.

It took Minji a few minutes to gather her thoughts and confess her feelings to you without stumbling over her words. You found her absolutely adorable, with her timidly tugging at the sides of her sweatpants and swaying slightly back and forth. That was the day you shared your first kiss. The memory of her soft lips against yours, her long arms wrapped around your waist, became etched in your mind forever.

"I really like you," she whispered against your lips, her eyes closed, intoxicated by your closeness.

"I can tell," you laughed, accepting the bouquet of flowers she held out to you and nuzzling your nose into her neck, inhaling the familiar scent of pine and mint that belonged uniquely to her.

Your relationship was sweet, even till the end.

Minji had successfully entered Hybe as a trainee during your third year in high school, and could no longer attend most of the classes at school. Nevertheless, she always found ways to surprise you, leaving cute notes in your locker or sneaking into your room at midnight with a bag filled with your favorite snacks and movies. When you were busy preparing for college entrance exams, the aspiring idol made sure to take you on small dates, providing you moments of comfort. You loved her with all your heart, but deep down, you knew that your relationship had an expiration date. Her talent shone brightly, and you were confident that she would successfully debut.

She broke things off a few months leading to her debut. As she struggled to find the right words, you nodded in understanding, pulling her into a final embrace and burying your tear-streaked face in her shirt.

"It's okay. I understand," you whispered. "They will love you just as much as I love you."

"But I only want you," she responded, her broad shoulders slumped in defeat.

It was the first time you had ever seen doubt in her eyes. She had always been so certain about her future and her dream of becoming an idol. As much as you adored her, you refused to be the reason for her hesitation.

"You'll still have me. Together or not, I will always be here cheering you on."

You stood on your tiptoes and kissed her for the last time in forever.

As you had predicted, the world fell head over heels for Kim Minji. She was adored right from the start, the moment her face graced the debut lineup. They loved her for the person she had become – poised, stunningly beautiful, and incredibly talented. Their adoration for her was so immense that it led to sold-out stadiums and her topping the charts for months.

However, as you lay alone in bed every night, it was the pure and genuine version of Minji from the past that filled your thoughts. You had loved her then, flaws and all, and you still loved her now. You loved the way she would pull on the tips of her long hair whenever she was thinking or nervous, you loved the way she looked in her baggy sweatpants and scruffy shoes after a day of rehearsals.

Most of all, you loved the way her eyes softened when she looked at you.

But that was all part of the past now. All you had left of her was the soft bunny-eared hat she had gifted you right before her debut, the very same design she wore in her latest music video. And that was okay. She was loved by millions, and that was what truly mattered.

You found solace in knowing that crowds would cheer her on as she stood on stage, chanting her name in adoration. You made a promise to yourself that you would continue to love the Minji you knew, even when the stage lights dimmed. You were determined to ensure she felt loved no matter where life took her.

She was your high school love, and you were content with that.

Part 2

#minji x reader #kim minji #newjeans x reader #one shot #angst fic #wlw concepts #idol x reader #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #newjeans #gxg #kim minji x reader #kpop fanfic #wherethefireliliesgrow

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salmonight · 10 months

Text

Free Title Ideas Pt.2

And here is the second part with more mostly likely less titles but enjoy!

(I still cant categorize so take them with apinch of salt)

Low Mood:

Who Mourns an Adonis?

Sinking Sand (Castles)

I Carve(d) These Letters Across My Chest

Smoking Roses

Whispers of the Forgotten

Perfectly Tainted

I Like Dead Things (They Cannot Hurt Me)

A Melody of Misfortune

Echoes of Loss

Crack:

Fake It ‘till You Make It

Honk if You're Scared

Live Fast Die Hot

I Know What I’m Doing — and Other Lies I Tell Myself

True Tales of Bodies(Mostly Mine)

Pinatas are Jerks

Food: A Love Story

You Are Old: Sobering Affirmations for Your Rapidly Disappearing Life

Paranoid-in-Chief

Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to [insert activity]

How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Survival Hacks

Learning to Outlive Your Friends and Other Tales of Immortality

Hey, Coffee

Smoking 101: A Beginner's Guide

From Starbucks to Hell: The Demonic Coffee Cravings of Everyday Joes

When Your Summoning Circle Turns Out to Be a DIY Project Disaster From Hell

From Door-to-Door Sales to Demon Summoning: Unexpected Career Paths for the Ambitious

Demonic DIY: Home Improvement Tips for the Dark Side

Delving into the Depths of Dorkness

The Great Demonic Cacophony: A Symphony of Summoning Shenanigans

A Demon Summoner's Guide to Mayhem: How to Summon Chaos and Confusion

Demonic Diversions: When Summoning Turns into Side-Quests

From Grounds to Gateway: How to Open a Portal to Hell with a Cup of Joe

Starbucks, Satan, and Specters: A Caffeine-Fueled Guide to Demonology

The Dark Side of Caffeine: How to Summon Demons and Make the Perfect Latte

Coffee and Demons: A Match Made in... Purgatory?

A Demonic Grind

Romance:

Words Getting Worthless (Love is Wordless)

Honey Without Time

Heartthrobs With A Cheeky Smile

Cause in a Sky Full of Stars, I Saw You

Out of All the Stars in the Sky, I Choose You to Light My Night

At Peace With Stars, in Love With Fireflies

The Love Triangle of Doom

Death:

Phantoms Of The Undead

Shelter In The Graves

Catacomb Without Flaws

Dancing With Your Ghost

Ecto-static

Death Sucks, but the Afterlife is a Blast!

Gods:

Deranged Divinity

Worshipper's Rue

Mystery:

Failing Of The Fog

Stranger Of The Past

Construction Of Twilight

Tree Of The Lost Ones

Rat In The Mist

Giggling Crypts

A Face By Any Other Name

Speak the Truth in Every Sense, Bury It With Innocence

Fantasy:

Forsaking The Elements

Heroes Of The Void

Song of Ice

Lightning in a Bottle

Adrift in the Realms

Fae-n-tastic

Gathering Magic

Three Lullabies of Extradimensional Guides

The Birthday Wish that Sparkled with Magic

Enchanting Birthday Rituals

The Wishing Star Ritual

Destruction /Unhinged:

Sleep as the World Burns

Life is Just a Game (and I'm Playing for the Win)

Inception Of Infinity

Feathers of Chaos

Wingspan of Terror

Burning Brighter Than Hell

Let This City Burn, Burn, Burn

Good Vibes

Shoot for the Moon

Starry Night Skies

Age of Wonders

Streaks Of Laughter

A Lady's Luck, A Robin's Flight

Pt. 1 |

#writing #writing resources #free title ideas #title ideas #titles #title list #fic titles #fic title ideas #fanfic titles #fanfic title ideas #story titles #story title ideas #crack titles #crack title ideas

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mrhowells · 1 year

Text

Smallville 5x06

"How you ever had a crush on Richie Cunningham, I will never understand."

I'm actually so easy to please

"And Lois... *laughs* I'd do anything to get rid of Lois."

but thinking about how annoying she is makes him laugh, soooooo... she's a good influence, I rest my case😌😌

Jonathan knows too, like-

Chloe & Lois as an investigative duo are actually really fun

Lex really lives in Jonathan's head rent free💀💀

ohmygoooooddd

MOTHER.

"She's here to dance."

Chloe really threw Lois under the bus like that I'm cryingsjakjsha

the struggle is real💀

SOOOOO let's see if Jonathan actually apologizes when it turns out Lex didn't do anything

CLARKFNKLJFDISLYS

COVER YOUR EYES SWEET SUMMER CHILD

Lois x bisexual lighting I LIVEEEE

they did that for me😭😌

"I'll have a coke😇" ... "S- straight up, on the rocks.😤"

JAkhsshfdlskaBOOBOO WHAT ARE YOU-

I just choked on my ice cream

LMAOOOOOO bless his heart

THE STRUGGLE IS REAL PART 2 I'M CRYINDHSGFJFKD

I'm really not ready for what's about to go down here😭😭

🎶DON'T YOU WISH YOUR GIRLFRIEND WAS HOT LIKEEE MEEEEEEE🎶

Someone needs to go to jail for that music choice💀💀

TOM WELLING YOUR FACE JOURNEYS. LET ME SAY THANK YOU KING🙇‍♀️

this is history in the making. absolutely iconic.

🎶DON'T YOU WISH YOUR GIRLFRIEND WAS WRONG LIKE MEEEEEE🎶🎶

i do wish she was my girlfriend actually they're so right

aaand she's getting into it

ON MY FUCKING KNEES FOR HER MA'AM YOUR HAND IN MARRIAGE PLEASEEEE

he's kind of giving me:

PLEASEWSWKRJWOPQP

EVERY SINGLE FRAME OF THIS IS SO FUCKING ICONIC LIKE WHAT DO I EVEN SAY??

it's okay bb, we're all looking respectfully right now

💀💀💀THE STRUGGLE IS REAL PT.3

SOMEONE PLEASE HELP THIS BEAN

kshadjwka his fight or flight is kicking in😭😭

"What are you doing here?" "What are YOU doing here?"

story of their life fr

the struggle has never been more real, pray for Clark💀

they did that.

smallville writers really did that.

legend behaviour if you ask me

i would like to take this moment and say thank you.

"I've never been in a position where people look up to me."

This is such a silly statement, Jonathan is literally the person Clark looks up to the most. His bigger personality flaws clearly come from Jonathan's influence💀 (not to say he didn't also learn a lot of good traits from him -he absolutely did- but you know)

I'm really curious what Lex's (and Jonathan's) politics are actually, don't be shy writers tell me👀

SIR I NEED YOU TO STEP AWAY FROM MY WIFE IMMEDIATELY

creepy mf

"Hey 007. Nice of you to show up." "I'll start assuming that means thank you?"

giggling kicking my feet

"I can't touch him." "Well, I can."

I'VE SAID IT BEFORE AND I'LL SAY IT AGAIN, MOTHERRRR

pls his face😭

he knows he could never be as cool as her

THIS SHOT MAKES ME FERAL

my parents🥹

(listen the shit i went through to upload this last picture tho, i hit the upload limit and had to delete stuff, then i accidentally deleted the whole post for a second🤡 my whole life flashed before my eyes💀💀)

Lex talking about a guy falling in love with his best friend's wife uh oh, no thank youuuuu😬😬

He was making a good point though.

"The thing I always try to remember is, no matter how much le lays on, he never expects more than he expects from himself."

Clark really grew up didn't he😭😭

"What are you doing, you just moved back in."

from the guy who said "I'd do anything to get of Lois." at the beginning of the episode, what in the clownery🤡🤡

All men do is lie.

she's such a menace, I LOVE HER😭😭

AND HE CAN'T STAY MAD AT HER LOOK AT HIS FACEEEEE

they're secret bffs your honor😭

I LOVE THEMMM IT'S ACTUALLY SO SERIOUS

"And you didn't have to come after me but you always do. So I wanted to say thank you. You're a really good friend."

GOING INSANE ON THIS SATURDAY NIGHT

CUT IT OUT YOU ASSHOLES I'M TRYING TO STAY NORMAL UNTIL SEASON 8 QUIT EYE FUCKINGZFGDUWEOAK

well. stay normal challenge failed again but that's exactly how i thought this would go, sooo

Question for the people: should i even tag Lex in posts like this? I don't think twice about tagging characters like Jonathan because I don't expect fans to look through his tag for him specifically, but i know people do it with Lex and I feel bad at the thought of them having to scroll through me losing my mind over Clois with a few Lex mentions in between. Lex fans lemme know

#smallville #5x06 #clark kent #lois lane #clois #jonathan kent #chloe sullivan #ellie's smallville thoughts #lex luthor

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cherrysoojins · 1 year

Note

i lovedddd your jisung boyfriend texts and i saw your request posts and that it was open i neeeededddd to ask if you could make just a short cute fic of going on a grocery run, getting coffee, just anything like that w/ jisung :((((

ur lucky i was in a creative mood tonight because i had like 2 paragraphs already done for this and this inspired me to finish it

press here for the reference post !!

savoring.

every moment you’re able to share with jisung, you will savor it till the end, just as you do the last bite of sweet pastries.

idol! jisung x college! reader, fluff, affection, sfw, coffee dates, dates in general, cute & sweet, even made me a lil’ giddy writing it and thats hard to do bc i find everything cringe, short oneshot/drabble, not proofread.

“i don’t like it,” jisung commented, sliding the flavorful coffee he begged you to try back to your side of the table, making you roll your eyes and take it back, a small smile on your lips as you brought your lips to the straw to drink it.

“you only like americanos. which is so odd because you have a sweet tooth.” you replied, taking your eyes off your phone to see him happily slurping on his iced americano with a small little dance that never failed to make you roll your eyes, look down at your phone again and act like you don’t know him.

it was your weekly coffee date, but with a twist. you two went to new coffee places every week, your goals being to go to every single coffee place in seoul. oddly enough, some blogger had already done that and there was a list online of literally every single coffee place in seoul, constantly getting updated with new ones to you and jisung’s advantage. what’s even more shocking, you two aren’t even half way through the list despite being at this for a year.

but you also remembered jisung is literally part of one of the most popular kpop groups right now, constantly touring and having a busy schedule, and you were in your second to last year in college that was probably the hardest year of your life that took up a lot of your time as well.

so moments like these with him, you both savored and made the most out of it. you two only separated ways when it was about to hit midnight and you two had to begrudgingly leave each other to go back to your busy lives.

“what’s after this?” jisung asked plucking your phone from your hand and putting it in your vintage tote bag that he refused to let you carry on your own, putting his own phone in shortly after.

the simple gesture made you giddy, making you want to stomp your feet at the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. it was so simple, but it showed that he wanted your full attention and wanted the day to be just about you two without distractions.

“my friend just opened a bakery a couple blocks away from here,” you said, both hands on your coffee as you stirred it around with your straw, looking back up at him with a smile. “we should stop there first. then grocery shopping?” you asked him.

“sounds good, baby.” he replied sweetly, grabbing your tote bag from off the back of the chair and slinging it on his shoulder, pulling his black mask over his face and making sure his beige bucket hat sat over his eyes to complete the disguise.

as you got up, grabbing your coffee and his because he was already carrying your bag, it was only fair you also carried something of his, he approached you quickly, pulling his mask down and bringing his hands to your cheeks to make you look at him mid reaching across the small circular table to grab his coffee, pressing his lips against yours.

“god, you taste like that coffee.” he said in mock disgust, pulling his mask back up and grabbing his coffee before you could, starting to walk towards the door of the cafe.

yeah, you will continue to savor these sweet little moments as much as possible.

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loadedberetta · 9 months

Text

Merry Little Christmas

college Kate Laswell x fReader // fem no body desc // MDNI

cw none? it's pure fluff (maybe a dash of anxiety but it's fine I promise)

summary: Kate convinces you to spend your first Christmas together.

1k words // rating: M (language) // MDNI // Part 2 // Part 3

"Do you want to spend the holidays with me and my family?" Kate asked.

At that point, you'd been barely dating a month or so officially. The two of you met that September when you hurriedly threw your bag down next to hers in the back of the auditorium when the professor gave you the look when you arrived at the first class late. After class on the third week, she asked you out, and you'd barely spent a day alone since then.

It was the end of December, a few days before winter break when she asked this, while the two of you were walking to the campus café after the shared class, holding hands. The whole campus was covered in a thin layer of the first snow of the season, with warm string lights, and a soft dusk setting a romantic mood.

"I'm pretty sure they expect me to be home, you know. My grandparents have been making reservations for my days home since fall…" You chuckled at how ridiculous that sounded out loud, yet was such a common occurrence each holiday season.

And the entire holiday cooking fell into your hands since you were capable of handling yourself in the kitchen. Helping out everywhere from fixing the Christmas lights to helping your little cousins stick together gingerbread houses (then washing them out of the thick cover of icing they cover themselves in each year without fail), and so on… a break did sound nice, but; "I already agreed to help my dad fix something around the house, and my mom-"

Kate stopped on the paved road, with the closeby lights of the café illuminating her profile, enhancing her warm, but sly smile. She took her whole hand in hers and caressed it. A few snowflakes dance around in the air around you.

"I asked if you wanted to spend Christmas with me and my family, baby. Not obligations you had, or stuff you didn't want to say no to." She sounded assertive, yet there was no pressure in her voice. And as always, she was right. She read you like a book, and you liked that, usually, even if it hurt to admit.

"Aren't we a new couple?" You asked in a timid voice that your lurking anxiety forced upon your vocal cords and looked into her eyes, which swirled with a festive sparkle from the moody string lights around you.

"Aren't you just looking for excuses?" She chuckled and leaned in to press a small, featherlight kiss to your cold cheek. "Come on, let's sit down inside."

She led you inside, and after grabbing you and herself some hot chocolate, she sat down with a small sigh.

"Your family…" You clutched the paper cup in your hands, the warmth quickly heating up your digits. Kate did the same, while her eyes examined your worried features, hanging on your words. "…they'd like me there?"

"Yeah." She smiled small, and little wrinkles appeared in the corner of her eyes. She was older than you, even if only by a few years; she looked mature for her age. Maybe that was what caught your eye in the first place. The stability she exuded, the sure answers she gave the professor, the way she carried herself when you walked beside her; it was confident and watchful.

"And what do I say at home?" Your anxiety spoke, gnawing in the back of your throat, searing your words with an unwanted edge.

"That you're staying with me for the holidays. Why?" She took a sip of her steaming hot chocolate and licked her lips as she put the cup down. God, she could say anything with those lips and you'd believe her.

"I just…" You gathered yourself and looked her in the eyes again. "I never spent a Christmas away from home. I don't know…"

"Do you want to?" She offered a hand, extending it to you on the small table, on which you leaned, posture slightly stiff. You took her hand in a moment, fingers intertwining with hers.

"I'd like to…" Your tone was unsure, torn between your own wants and your family's. "but…"

"Look, baby, if you're saying no because of them, I'm sorry, but I can't accept that. Give me a good reason and I won't ask. Because I know that's your reason. This excuse is not you, it's them. And I don't want you to feel obligated--"

"But it's family, Kate!" Your brows knitted with worry, having scared yourself with your own response when the anxiety won over again, causing the small outburst.

"Mine is too, babe. They want to see you, hell, I want to see you." Kate's eyes pleaded to you, and she squeezed your hand a little.

"Spend time with you, have you curl up by the fireplace while you talk about… knitting or some shit with my mom…" She smiled into the sentence, the smile you knew you couldn't resist.

"Kate!" You squeezed her hand back at the cussword, hitting a playful tone as her infectious smile carried on to your face.

"What?" She leaned back in her chair, still smiling, not letting go of your hand.

"Nothing…" You quieted down a little and observed the melting whipped cream disappear into the hot chocolate in your cup. "I'm just not used to being pampered at Christmastime. I'm the one cooking, cleaning, I-"

"I don't want you to have to be that. I want you to rest this Christmas, and I want you by my side. I want to see you relax and unwind, you know, what every Christmas should be about." She explained with a mellow voice, that made you hot and thinking of the possibilities she could provide for you.

For a moment, you didn't find anything that'd have expressed your feelings. Instead, you settled for a shy "alright", already thinking of a proper thank you for Kate later that night for offering you her trust and opening her home to you, despite your anxieties and empty worries.

a/n: happy holidays y'all! this was not self-indulgent

#someone take me away for the holidays #berettalks #beretta does fics #kate laswell x reader #laswell x reader #laswell mw2 #laswell cod #call of duty laswell #cod laswell #cod

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yunhobug · 2 years

Text

All about you

I honestly don’t know what to call this, I just wanted to write little blurbs based off the seasons greeting themes.

Ateez x Gn reader

Also HAPPY ATINY DAY🤧 (a day late)

genre: fluff

w: mentions of food (yeosang), mentions of weed/smoking (wooyoung)

Catch!Seonghwa

Seonghwa had always been THAT boy. He was good looking and sociable, the boy always seemed to be surrounded by a large group of friends. He had outstanding grades and good relations with his professors. He had a reputation to uphold, there was always a rumor going around about him and some other girl. That wasn’t the Seonghwa you knew, not the one you came home to everyday. Not your Seonghwa. You knew him differently, the Seonghwa that collected lego figurines, the Seonghwa that called his mom once a week, the Seonghwa that likes to wear dorky matching pajamas to sleep, and use face masks together. While yes Seonghwa was a catch, only you had managed to capture his heart and he planned to keep it that way for awhile.

Nerd!Hongjoong

Hongjoong had sworn to the gods to make sure he had a good partner for the final project and he felt utterly dejected when the two of you were paired together. Sure you were nice and probably one of the most attractive people he had ever seen but you seemed a little airy. Your head always focused on other thoughts it seemed. He had to try and put you back on track multiple times. Though as weeks went on he soon understood you. You always had such creative ideas, ways to make your project stand out from others. You had expressed wanting to do more than just a plain powerpoint. You weren’t dumb, you were actually incredibly smart. While yes biology was super boring in your eyes you knew a ton about it, even more than Hongjoong himself. Overtime Hongjoong had grown incredibly fond of you and your crazy brain, and he only hoped you felt them same. Though from the looks you gave him, he could probably guess pretty well.

Skater boy!Yunho

You were Yunho’s new neighbor. You seemed quite shy and didn’t seem to leave your apartment much, but Yunho was smitten. In the times you had talked he could never get a grip on your mind for long. He didn’t know your hobbies, likes, or food preferences, until recently. Yunho liked to skate at night the most, the streets were empty and the summer air cooled his skin. That’s when he would watch for you. You almost always had your curtains pulled back and Yunho could gaze into your window to see what you were really like. You liked to dance around your room, you had a large never ending stack of books, and a cat that liked to sit in the window. Yunho fell in love with this you, the real you. Though you may not show it to him for a long time he still got a glimpse and it made his chest flutter.

Part Timer!Yeosang

Yeosang knew your face but never your name. You came into his store late in the evening probably once a week. Sometimes with friends sometimes alone, but you always made sure to get some strawberry ice cream. He assumed it was your favorite. You always smiled so warmly at him, thanking him, even though he was just doing his job. You never failed to tell him to have a good night and to get home safe. It made his chest warm, the way you put so much care into your words even though he was a stranger. Tonight when you came in, Yeosang noticed you were alone. You waved towards him and made your way to the back coolers. Within a couple minutes you came up to his register, placing a tub strawberry ice cream on the counter along with two candy bars. He checked you out and you paid, walking away from the counter when Yeosang had realized you had left one of the candy bars.

“Hey, you forgot this!” He called out, watching you perk up at his words.

“Keep it!” Then you left.

Gamer boy!San

San tended to not pay attention to the time when playing games, you often woke up in bed alone at 2 in the morning due to this. This had happened again tonight, waking up to cold sheets. You got out of bed, swaying slightly due to tiredness as you made your way into the next room. San was sat at his desk, a pair of cat ear headphones rested on his head, they were a gift from you for his birthday. You had expected San to be playing league or something of the sort but you were surprised to see the Sims on his screen. You walked over to him wrapping your arms around his neck from behind, making him jump in surprise.

“Can you please come to bed? It’s late Sannie.” You pouted down at him. He looked up, smiling softly at your tired features.

“Yeah sorry baby, I got distracted making us in the game. See, that’s you, me, and byeol. I even made our apartment!”

Quarterback!Mingi

You had always liked to watch Mingi play, there was something so captivating about him, even though you never really cared about the sport before meeting him. Mingi loved when you came to his games. He loved being able to share a passion of his with you. Letting you into his world was a privilege you got to experience. Tonight was no exception. You were seated in the stands, right next to his parents, bundled up in a big coat to keep warm. His coat actually. Mingi’s favorite part about you coming to his games happened after the team had won. He got to see you yelling his name, jumping up and down with excitement, and the largest smile on your face. You truly were his good luck charm.

Cool kid!Wooyoung

You wouldn’t consider Wooyoung a friend. An acquaintance was probably more accurate. You had mutual friends sure but the two of you didn’t talk much outside of school. Wooyoung used to sneak up to the roof, trying to skip his classes and up there he found you. You went up there to smoke and clear your head. Wooyoung started to join you every 6th period. You two would sit, listen to music, talk about your struggles, and get high. Your conversations tended to get a bit deep, though neither of you realized. You didn’t realize that Wooyoung knew your entire life story, he knew the details about the fights you had with your shitty boyfriend. He knew how much you loved your dog, and how much your younger brother meant to you. So maybe you didn’t consider Wooyoung a friend just yet, but he definitely considered you one.

Best friend!Jongho

Jongho wasn’t sure when he started seeing you as more than a friend. Maybe it was when you showed up to his singing performance with a big sign to show your support, or maybe it was when you guys went to the zoo and took hundreds of pictures. But if he was to guess it was when you came over to his house for his moms birthday. Not for him but for his mom. He never wanted for his feelings to develop like this, it happened out of his control. One day you were his annoying best friend and the next you were the most attractive person he’s ever seen. Jongho kept his feeling to himself for months, not wanting to change the dynamic you had but as soon as you mentioned how that one guy from math class had asked you to dinner he couldn’t keep it to himself any longer.

“Please don’t go out with him, go with me instead, but not as a friend as a date.”

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borderlinebox · 2 years

Note

Sup! hope you’re having a great day 😮💗 having childhood best friend brainrot- “you have my back right?” x “lmao probably” cheesy but I eat that shit up every time

could you write a oneshot or headcannon

for chishiya? He’s gotten/done something that’s worth celebrating (maybe it’s his birthday, got first place or a hundred on his test, got into the college that he applied to) he’s never been told by someone that they’re proud of him not even from his old man so he went on with his day expecting nothing special

But but BUT chishiya hears the familiar patterned knocks on his window, how they managed to get up there without his father knowing is beyond him but he’s relieved considering his old man isn’t all that fond with them (In this scenario id imagine that chishiya’s father wouldn’t really like us bc of our shortcomings? something like that...and if he isn’t friends with our parents)

they sneak (more like drag) him out with a lot of convincing and celebrate by going into places he would tolerate or enjoy,,rip his friend’s allowance 💸 At the end of the night they both end up on a park bench with store bought cake with messy written icing “I’m so pr he I did it bitch!!” done by yours truly. they do say it to him and give him a short side hug before he gets back home tho

Feel free to decline this! take care ⭐️

Celebrate With Me!

Summary: Reader acknowledges Chishiya's accomplishments.

Pairing: Chishiya x Reader

Warning: That good cliche shit, FLUFF, cuteness overload, not proofread!!!, changed a few things up!

A/N: ISTG I'm boutta make a Chishiya X Bestfriend! Reader bundle because these requests are too cute!! Hope you have a great day as well and take care too ^^ <3 I am incredibly happy and proud on how this turned out!!! Spent a literal 2 hours straight on it because I lost some progress and I'm gonna have my ass whooped later but this should cover the blow LOVE YALL AND THIS REQQQ ♥

Feedback is highly appreciated!!!

Chishiya sat upon his desk chair, currently finishing up some notes. Just things he's learnt or felt like he found interesting. He could use it in the future. Distant music playing from his favorite band echoed softly in his room.

There wasn't much to do. He'd recently gotten a letter from a university he had applied to - which he was successfully accepted in. He could say he was happy for himself but it just wasn't that exciting or celebration-worthy to him.

He continuously tapped the tip of the pen against the table in a rhythm, re-reading the paragraphs of various words.

SMACK

The sudden noise caught Chishiya's attention as he quickly twisted his head towards the loud noise. There, on his window, a handprint was seen as it was slowly sliding down the window, failing to stick.

Its fingers soon danced on the window, creating multiple and small taps across the glass pane without a proper flow of beat.

Chishiya sighed and stood up and opened the window to reveal his friend struggling to hold onto his window's support,

"Y/N, What are you doing here?" He wasn't at all surprised. He was just more so concerned why you were currently hanging by a thread on his window.

"I'll tell you when I get inside. Right now let's focus on the part where you shoULD BRING ME INSIDE." You flailed your legs around as you struggled to even breathe properly.

He hissed at you to stay quiet and helped you up to sneak inside.

There was a voice, somewhere in his mind where he actually wanted to leave you hanging for a while to amuse himself but that would have been a bad idea.

Once you had both your feet on the floor of his bedroom, you dusted yourself off and took a much needed breather. You had been running to his house since 45 minutes ago. It was hard with the troublesome traffic and people yelling at you as you swerved your way through them, you're just glad you've finally reached his humble abode.

"Right, Explain." He said bluntly, doing his signature move; placing his hands into his pockets. "How did you even get up here?"

You shaked your hand profusely, deflecting the topic. "Never mind that-, guess who found out when your birthday iiiisss?" You looked up at him with a tired yet mischievous grin.

"I'm guessing you."

"Me," You announced proudly while facing your thumb towards yourself, chest up in victory. "And you wanna know what I'm gonna do about it?"

"Please don't." Chishiya sighed, point-blankly. Unfortunately, there was no hope of changing the situation's circumstances because he knew when you were hooked on something, it's sure that you'll be hell-bent on getting it, no matter how stupidly dangerous or ridiculous it may seem.

You laughed before dropping down to the carpeted floor of his room and picking up your sling bag. "Now, as I was saying," Your finger dramatically pointed towards the bag. "We gotta celebrate! So we're going out and hang!"

"I really rather not." He stood his ground, stubbornly declining your offer.

"Come on, you're gonna celebrate your birthday with me!" You teased with the same playful grin you gave him. He was always so stubborn when it came to things he accomplished or failed - whether you wanna celebrate it or cheer him up. Either way, you were going to be even more stubborn than him this time.

"No." He muttered out sternly.

"Yes," You pushed with determination. "We are."

"No."

"Yes."

"No"

"Yes"

"No-"

"Why not??" You broke the repetitive, single-worded debate and gave him a sad look. "You never celebrate anything. Don't you want me to show you how happy and proud I am for you, Chishiya?"

Chishiya seemed to be broken from his train of thought at his words. He was silent, but you could tell that he was processing your words and calculating a response as if he was some kind of robot. You'd have to be honest, he kind of is one sometimes-

"Fine, I'll go and celebrate my birthday." Was all he said, his condescending look seeming to have disappeared - replaced with an unreadable expression.

It didn't feel like an answer at all - you felt disappointed. But you decided to push away those feelings for later because you were still ecstatic about your achievement and that's what mattered.

"W-Wonderful! You go get prepared or something!" You told him in a panic frenzy and opened the window from where you cam from. "I'll wait for you to climb out the window!"

And before waiting for his response, the last thing Chishiya saw of you was you already dipping out of the window and landed on the lush grass, in pain - as he presumed. He quickly changed and made his way down the stairs, being granted the permission to leave.

Chishiya would probably be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little bit concerned for your well being when you jumped out of that window.

To his surprise, when he went outside, he saw you standing proudly with a little dirt in your hair and face.

"You goof??" He asked, eyeing you up and down.

"Perfect, Great! I didn't get hurt, totally didn't - I think I sprained my wrist but that's totally fixed now." You spoke quickly, not even giving him a chance to say another word since you had grabbed him by his wrist. "Now come on! We don't have all day."

"Was this necessary?" Chishiya mutters blankly as he takes in the view of the park. It was a rather quiet, and less populated park wherever you and Chishiya both lived. Not many people visited everyday but there were still some who came often. Parks that were more widely known had a bigger crowd and you know Chishiya enough to know that he doesn't like big crowds. Especially the noise that comes with it.

"It was either this or the carnival next place." You turned to him and raised your brow.

"I think I prefer the park." He shrugged. It wasn't a bad place at all - Fairly clean and a decent view. You would sometimes come here alone and think, maybe even attempt to bring Chishiya over. But he was either busy or too stubborn to go. Thankfully, you managed to corner him.

Even though Chishiya let you take him here this time.

Both of you took your time there, having deep talks which mostly started off with why he hadn't really celebrated many past birthdays, which made you frown a lot. Chishiya thought it was half a mistake to give you that information after you had told him that you were gonna celebrate his birthday for him every year instead.

He may be lying if he didn't appreciate it.

The rest of the time, both of you walked and talked on the more philosophical topics. Just the precious quality time between two great lov friends, walking underneath the cloudy weather with strands of sunlight pushing through and landing on the cobblestone pavements.

It didn't seem much as a birthday celebration to the regular human etiquette but you could care less because both of you were having. swell time. Even if neither of you said it. It was a bonding time that didn't need the use of an explanation and more of a feeling.

Your eye was caught by a flock of ducks roaming around a side of a pond next to a woman selling duck food or pieces of bread. Chishiya must've noticed this since you had fully stopped walking and stood in place, staring at them.

"You wanna feed the ducks?" His voice brought you out of your mini daydream, he had his natural high charm evident in his face and voice.

"I, well, if you want to. It's your birthday, not mine.." You mumbled out, it was a bit low for anyone to actually process your words, seeing that you would be a little upset that you didn't feed those ducks.

"Okay then," He lightly smiles and walks his way past you with a bored yet slightly amused expression. "Let's go feed those ducks."

Like a little kid who had been given permission to sleep over at his friend's house, you giddily smiled and practically swooshed right on past him and over to the woman selling the small bits of food.

You quickly bought two small bags and handed one over to Chishiya. He took the bag filled with small, multiple pieces of duckfeed into his hands and looked back up at you. "If I'm gonna feed the ducks, you've gotta feed them too." You told him with a bright smile before kneeling down to the ducks.

Chishiya opened the bag and shook around its contents before taking out a handful and throwing it onto the ground the ducks stood upon with a blank face.

However, you had a cute and dorky smile on your face while you handfed them all equally. Some of them bit you by accident but it was no more painful than a light pinch. Your smile was bright enough to light up a whole room, Chishiya thought as he held back the urge to smile at your antics.

A chuckle from the old vendor caught both of your attention. When she noticed she sighed softly, "Sorry,"

You smiled, "No worries! It's absolutely fine! Why were you chuckling anyway?" Hand finding its way to the bag full of duck feed to gather some more and hand over the pieces to the ducks.

She grinned at the both of you. "Both of you are so cute, are you a couple?"

The question caught both of you off guard. You could quite literally feel the tension rise in the atmosphere. You felt your breath hitch and your lungs close as it denied you to breath from the sudden question.

"No! No, heh, we're just friends." You shot up with an awkward smile at the lady who had understood the tension between her and you both. You look back up at Chishiya with a nervous look on your face. "Isn't that right, Chi?"

He appeared to have froze due to your question. Or was he just standing still and silent because he had zoned out? Was he deeply immersed in his thoughts?

"No, we're friends." Chishiya confirmed. You expected that answer but you couldn't help but feel the pang in your heart when he actually said it.

The vendor nodded and apologized once again for asking such a question. She went back to her small stand to mind her own business instead.

Now you and Chishiya kept on feeding the ducks until both your bags were completely empty, all in awkward silence. Not one of you tried to break the ice since it appeared that no one had anything to say after that question.

You turned to thank the lady before leaving with Chishiya without a word.

Upon arriving back at the park's entrance Chishiya decided to finally break the silence. "Well? Where are you dragging me off to next?" He asked, raising a brow at you. You had almost completely forgotten the reason why you had went out in the first place.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot." Slipping your hand into your slingbag, you pulled out a small crumpled paper and unfolded it.Chishiya tried to lean in and read but you pulled the paper closer to you. "Hey! Don't peek on the surprise." You pouted, forgetting all about the question for a moment.

He put his hand up defensively but it was no more than a sarcastic tease. "No peeking." He repeats before shoving his hands into his pockets once again. Chishiya was almost never seen with his hands outside his pockets outside of his home. It was almoat natural and expected.

Once you were sure he wouldn't peek again, you opened up the piece of paper before folding it once more.

"I got an idea."

"You looked at the paper which most likely had the idea.

"I have an idea." You repeated, dismissing his smart assness. "Follow me!" And once again, you boldly took a hold of his wrist and started to dash to whatever place you were dragging him to next.

The warm light of the welcome sign greeted the both of you as you stood outside a relatively new, and decently small café. And sketchy enough, the stores it was between in was a shady dentist's office and a run-down, forever closed drug store.

"This is the new coffee shop that opened last week." Chishiya noticed, looking up at the hangout's name to remember it. "It certainly has a sketchy location."

"That's cause this was the only place the owner could afford. In fact, they're actually quite creeped out by the stores beside it. I feel bad." You explained briefly, glancing at the side shops. "But that's not what we're here for, dear friend."

You pushed him inside the cafe and it was definitely much better on the inside than the out. It had relatively creamy walls and warm lights. You were surprised that the place wasn't filled with people. Tempting enough to keep this place as a secret, all to yourself.

"Sit the hell down." You brought Chishiya to a corner seat - which is, in a natural rule, one of the best seats a restaurant or any place could ask for - and sitting in front of him.

"It isn't a bad place, I'll give it that." Your bleach haired friend admitted, his eyes still roaming around. "What gave you the idea?"

A giggle escaped your lips, "I wanted to try it out. I actually visited the place a few days ago. It was completely different than now. They changed it a lot." You shrugged, "And I thought of you when I stepped in here. I thought you'd like the place."

Chishiya smiled lightly, which was again; rare. "It's good."

"Better than-"

"I haven't decided yet." He cut you off before you could finish which resulted in you giving him a cheeky smirk.

He couldn't help but feel good about himself when you admitted that you thought of him when you found this place. It felt truly honorable than his straight A's and cards with that big ol' red 'Accepted' on it. It was something near to a foreign feeling.

"About what that vendor said-" You were immediately cut off by a waiter coming up, asking for your orders. You coughed into your arm at the sudden surprise and ordered your preferred drink.

Chishiya glanced at you and the waiter, what was with the question? He quickly ordered his own drink as you thanked the waiter before they left.

Another set of an awkward silence filled between the both of you. He was curious about your earlier question but didn't want to push you, you looked embarassed enough after choking on your own spit.

"Don't think about it. She just made a mistake, it's fine." Chishiya wanted to say something else but decided to take matters into his own hands instead. "It's not that uncommon. Sometimes expected."

You nodded at his words. "Right.. I forgot, they have board games here! You wanna play?" You beamed up, changing the subject. He glanced his eyes to the side, finding the board games that you were talking about.

All of them were stacked on a small bookshelf that had a good amount of books on it as well.

"Sure, we'll play." He shrugged without a care. "Why don't you choose the game, Y/N?"

You hummed out a yes and took your time; reading all the board game labels. There were many of them but you wanted to try out something bold, something Chishiya would actuallu want to play with you. "Ah! Chess."

Why Chess? You finally processed your declaration.

"Oh, Chess?" Chishiya looked back at you. What a bold declaration of war. "Sure, why not."

You felt yourself gulp and begin to pray for your mistakes and for your well being, choosing a game like this against a guy like Chishiya. You've already made a decision and stood up and made your walk of shame towards the small chess board.

Bringing the board to your table, you gathered yourself the confidence and smacked the board down.

"Bring it on, Shuntaro." A smirk appeared on your face, a bold glimmer in your eyes.

"I think I'm gonna be sick." You burp out, watching your side of the chess board with bored and tired eyes. You've already accepted your death wish an hour ago.

Now you were here with two empty cups, 3 hours that passed by and found yourself with only a King and a Pawn against Chishiya's fucking army. You've paid for your drinks an hour ago and you were still here, suffering.

"You chose the game." He defended. He looked unchanged - just the same guy three hours ago. Meanwhile you sat in front of him, a hand in your hair and tired eyes.

You weren't sleepy, you were just tired of watching your entire empire fall.

"You're enjoying this, I know it. Behind those blank eyes of yours? You're enjoying this." An almost pathetically dramatic voice of sulking came from you as you connected your forehead onto the table.

You could feel him shrug in front of you.

"But alas!" You rose dramatically, "That was my plan all along!" You moved your king to the line of sight of his queen, making yourself lose. "I forfeit. Besides, we're gonna miss the best part of today!"

Chishiya watched as you obliterated yourself and throwing the chess pieces off the board and clean up. "Fun game." He responded to your actions.

"It was not at all fair." You pushed and closed the board up when you finished counting off the chess pieces and went off to put it back in respect. "You're far smarter than me and you know it."

"You chose th-"

"Yeah, Yeah. 'I chose the game' and whatnot, I get it." You echoed him in an immature tone of voice, but you'd never deny his intelligence. He technically carried you through physics and math.

He stood up and walked out beside you, hearing the same waiter who served you both give their thanks.

"The last stop shouldn't be too far from here." You were looking at that old crumpled piece of paper you had a while ago.

After just a few minutes, maybe 10, of walking, you found both yourselves in front of a popular convenience store joint that you and Chishiya always went to for a quick lunch or snack break when you were both in highschool.

You lead him to a black bench right across the small store and placed your things down, taking your wallet out your bag.

"Stay here." You smiled before running into the building.

Chishiya stared at the all too familiar black bench. No, he didn't sit, the black bench gave him an overflow of memories when you both hung out here. You and Chishiya would buy anything you both wanted and were able to buy from the store and sit out here, exchanging notes and occasionally jokes. He smiled at the thought.

"I told you to sit!" You pointed at him accusingly as you held a brown paper bag in your other arm. The sounds of the bells on the doors clinged together when you exited the building.

"I was." Chishiya turned his way to you.

"After almost 10 minutes of me being in there? Come on." You chuckled and decided to sit down on the black bench yourself. He followed right after you. "Check out what I got!"

You ruffled your hand into the paper bag with joy, tongue sticking out and biting softly on the muscle. "Boom!" You cheered when you took it out.

It was a small almost medium, cute pink cake - which was his favorite whipped strawberry flavor - with Chishiya's favorite cookies decorated on the outer curve.

You handed it to chishiya with the same dorky smile you had when you were feeding the ducks at the park. He observed the writing on the cake with narrow eyes.

'Hapi'

'You de'

'Congratatulations!!!'

Despite the spelling error, and the very messy writing, you still smiled like an idiot and Chishiya couldn't help but appreciate the fucked up cake. He actually showed you his smile that time.

Can you believe it? Making Chishiya smile 3 maybe even 4 times today?

It made yourself smile even wider that you had to put your chin on your hands.

"You spelled 'Congra-"

"I'm aware of my mistake Chishiya but there's clearly no more room for anymore mistakes on that cake." You pointed at the cake which really did have no more room for anymore icing.

He exhaled with a smile, his way of laughing or chuckling at you genuinely at best, before opening the plastic lid.

"Oh and, if you want anymore of your bland ass cookies, there's more in the bag. Can't understand why you like that crap." You jokingly gave him a cringed look and stuck your tongue out in disgusted exaggeration. But, you got it for him.

"Fork?" Chishiya asked, looking back up at you.

"Oh shit, yeah I forgot." You opened up your sling and pulled out two plastic forks. "I figured that there wasn't going to be any free forks in the store so I decided to bring some."

Handing him one, you were more than ready to eat the cake with him.

As both of you dipped in for the first bite, you both heard the sounds of popping in the sky which caught Chishiya off his guard.

Fireworks were in the sky. All different colors, blending in so well in the night sky.

"Would you look at that." You said in awe through the cake in your mouth. "I wonder who put that there."

"You did something, didn't you?" Chishiya looked at you, unamused but still appreciative. You could tell it through the way how soft his eyes looked. It was much softer and quite happier than usual, and you were proud.

"I may have asked some friends." You shrugged, meeting his gaze.

Both of you had not only the warm light emitting from the convenience store, but the different colors of the fireworks that temporarily glowed on both of your faces.

You thought he looked so pretty in all of the colored sparks of light. You could get used to his eyes if it were like this.

"I'm really happy and proud of you, Chish." You said all full of truth, hitting his shoulder playfully. "You need to hear it sometimes, no?"

"I guess." Chishiya answered with a shrug again, lifting another fork full of cake near his mouth. "Thanks, I think."

You chuckled, finally hearing those words come out of his mouth felt so satisfying to you. You were even sure he never really said it all to anyone. The sparks in the sky continued to flash in the sky all so beautifully. "Don't mention it."

Maybe he could get used to this, having someone like you. It made him feel all warm and proud for once.

#aib #alice in borderland #alice in borderland x reader #chishiya x reader #x reader #chishiya shuntaro #aib x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader #box writes #chishiya

274 notes · View notes

b00kdiary · 8 months

Text

Dreamer | Rhysand

Rhysand x Reader

Rhysand begrudgingly goes to Hewn City to secure a marriage pact that will indefinitely bond the two Courts together- but the fine ladies of the Court of Nightmares are not what he wants or needs. Instead, he discovers Lady Y/N, and she has no qualms about telling him how he has failed this City and her. This is more than just coincidence, it’s fate.