#if i sound petty n bitter its because I AM

[intheholler]

i know tumblr didn't just,,

didn't just,,,, put this on my dash days after me complaining about people using appalachia as little more than a shallow, misappropriated aesthetic

like

lmao please say psych rn

yes, i get it, it's an ethel cain song. that still don't help nothin. she's from tallahassee like. pls

so what part of appalachia is nebraska in?? who knew this whole time appalachia, home to the appalachian mountains, was flat as a plank with nary a single hill to be spotted

new ARC map just dropped i guess. i threw in a lil bit of south dakota there too since we're just making shit up now. it has "south" in the name so it counts as southern gothic too right

point being: 'appalachia' is not synonymous with disrepair and decay.

we aren't a catch-all for decrepit buildings. we aren't the sole owners of poverty. put this energy toward fleshing out yalls own regional gothic (and midwest gothic is actually so cool, why wouldn't you want to???) and give it the same intrigue that appalachian gothic has garnered instead of furthering the idea that all we have to offer here is forsaken rot.

[taintedcigs]

dancing with our hands tied part II — s.h

you can find part I here

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY, minors dni!!, ANGST, making out, swearing, drinking, alcohol mention, JEALOUSY!!! eddie's a bit of an asshole i am sorry, but so is steve sometimes!! and so is reader? idk!

summary: in which steve is in love with his best friend's ex. (wc: 8k+)

a/n: this is part 2 of this fic here !! pls make sure to read it before this!! anddd, im sorry for how confusing the first part was, BUT HERE'S THE HIDEOUT INCIDENT!! and i didn't use POVs this time and i kinda gave up on dates ugrhh. also i have a little bonus content at the end even tho its so a lil silly!!! also did not proof-read this, pls ignore any mistakes or ill scream n d*e

Friday, February 7, 1986 || The Hideout.

Steve stole a glance in your direction, and immediately realized the mistake he had made. 

Jesus fucking Christ.

Why did you have to be so fucking perfect? Why did you have to have the most contagious laugh that immediately brought a warm smile to his lips? 

Steve leaned against the bar as he watched you further, reveling at the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you gave Robin a giggle, nose scrunching as you mimicked whatever story you were telling, drawing him in without even having a clue on the effect you had on him.

Your eyes met his for a brief moment, his heart pounded inside of his ribcage when you looked at him like that, as if your eyes were smiling at him. He held your gaze, giving you a subtle nod. 

God, if Steve didn’t tell you how he felt about you soon, he was sure he was going to explode.  

He turned back to the bar, head filled with the idea of opening up to you, he had to do it soon or else—

“Harrington!” Eddie beamed, interrupting his thoughts as he grabbed onto Steve’s shoulders, “You mind helpin’ me out?” He grinned, causing Steve’s brows to furrow. 

“Can you put in a good word for me?” Eddie muttered, hand pointing toward the booth, “What are you talking about?” Steve muttered, his eyes following him.

“Y/N.” Steve hoped to God that Eddie didn’t notice the shock in his eyes, blinking quickly as he tried to control the jealousy building within him. 

“I swear I’ve had the biggest crush on her,” Eddie exclaimed. Steve couldn’t help the way his face fell; he wondered if Eddie could notice it, but by the way he grinned at you, Eddie probably had no fucking clue about his feelings for you. 

“Since when?” Steve sounded bitter, chewing at the inside of his mouth to stop himself, “Uh, since forever, dude,” Eddie said, chuckling.

“Put in a little good word for me, yea? I know you guys are close and shit,” Eddie gushed as he squeezed Steve’s shoulders again, and Steve was tense now, his entire body almost burning with rage and resentment. 

Maybe it was wrong for Steve to be petty about this; maybe it wasn’t fair to you that he spent the rest of the night ignoring you; maybe it wasn’t right for him to act this way, but Steve had been on this rodeo before. 

He was always the second choice, and he knew that he was never going to be someone’s priority. Because of that, his reaction was warranted; at least that’s what he believed. Ignoring you completely while he bitterly watched Eddie make moves on you was the only way he could cope with it. 

And it was driving him crazy, knowing that Eddie was getting under your skin with the advice he got from Steve and learning everything about you from him. 

At first, it was all just some passive aggressiveness, until it turned into something bigger, until you finally couldn’t take it anymore. 

Because there stood Steve, across from the gang’s booth, leaning over the wall as he whispered something into Tammy’s ear—Steve’s ex.

With her shiny blonde hair and her big eyes, she threw him a hearty giggle, sticking to his side, while Steve barely blinked, allowing her to drool all over him.

You had no right to be jealous, not when Steve had no clue about your feelings, not when Steve didn’t owe you a thing, but you couldn’t help the frown on your face as he ignored you all night and was fine with stupid Tammy Thompson being all over him.

Your throat burned with the number of shots you took, you could never handle your tequila, but the numbness was exactly what you needed. Your mind was getting dizzier with Steve being pushed back into your thoughts.

You could feel yourself getting lighter and lighter with each sip, gaze barely holding over Steve’s direction anymore when Eddie had been keeping you company the whole night.

To think Steve was supposed to be your close friend felt like a joke now. The more he was with the blondie, the more you felt your stomach churning, gaze drifting toward Eddie to keep yourself from looking in his direction.

You felt desperate.

Steve probably saw you as the girl who was wrapped around his finger, the girl who followed him around like a puppy. Maybe that’s why he was ignoring you, trying to keep you from clinging to him.

You fidgeted in your seat; not being able to get up and tear her off of him was killing you, and  your head was pounding because of the amount alcohol in your system.

It was getting harder to ignore the jealousy that gnawed at your insides. 

Eddie didn’t seem to notice anything, but Steve did.

With each shot you took, with each step you took closer to Eddie, Steve couldn’t help the sharp pain he felt in his chest, the same rage of jealousy gnawing at him as well. He knew he couldn’t do anything about it, too, so he buried it deeper and deeper until he could make sure those feelings for you were impossible to reach.

You were going to be dating Eddie, and Steve needed to get over you as fast as he could.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t mind the attention coming from his ex.

By the time Steve arrived back at the booth, Nancy and Jonathan were already gone, you were in the bathroom—possibly puking your guts out, and Robin was getting ready to leave.

“What the fuck happened here?” He asked, concern washing over his face. “She drank a bit too much,” Robin mumbled, knowing how much Steve cared about you.

“You should maybe check on her, yea?” She gave Steve an all-knowing look, causing him to shrug.

“I can’t—” Robin interrupted him with a death glare.

“I would, but I have to go or my mom will actually kill me this time,” She groaned, saying her goodbyes before leaving in a hurry. 

“Dude, I gotta bail too,” Eddie puffed his cheeks as he put on his leather jacket. “What?” Steve asked, baffled.

“She’s wasted!” He exclaimed, his eyebrows shooting up quickly, causing Eddie to shrug, “She’s probably puking her guts out right now, she needs you.” Steve’s eyes narrowed; he couldn’t believe that Eddie would even think about leaving you alone in a condition like this. 

“Gross, dude,” Eddie said, making a face as he cringed, causing Steve to roll his eyes. 

“Real fuckin’ mature, Munson.”

“You drop her home, man, I’m too fuckin’ hammered for all of this.” He gave Steve’s shoulder another tight squeeze; this time Steve was sure his blood was boiling, his eyes darkening with each word Eddie spoke.

This asshole had the audacity to use him to try to date you, and he couldn’t even fucking treat you, right? Steve shook off his thoughts before he could do something he knew he would regret.

Eddie was his best friend, and he could never let his feelings for you get in the way of you actually being happy.

“Are you going to get a cab?” Steve asked, “Yeah,” Eddie muttered mindlessly.

“Then give me your jacket.” Steve’s tone was now cold, almost demanding, and his demeanor changing within seconds was throwing Eddie off, 

“No fuckin’ way,” Eddie chuckled mockingly, he didn’t notice the serious gaze Steve holds.

“Dude, your house is five minutes away, you’ll be fine, just give me your jacket,” He demanded again.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Eddie spat.

“Because you asshole, it’s the middle of February and Y/N is wearing a fucking dress, it’s the least you could do for leaving her like that.”

“Why don’t you give her yours?” Steve didn’t know how to control the rage coursing through his veins.

“Do you see me wearing a fucking jacket?” Eddie was sure he had never seen Steve like this, with those veins in his forehead visible as he could feel his fists clench. Eddie’s eyes widened, clearly taken aback by Steve’s bizarre behavior.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Eddie mumbled before taking off the jacket with a few huffs escaping from his lips.

“There, you happy, man?” Eddie hissed, almost tossing the jacket toward Steve, “Fucking ecstatic,” Steve replied with an angry smirk.

Steve sighed before he made his way to the bathroom. Not knowing what was waiting for him inside, he knocked on the door hesitantly and asked, “Y–you okay?” The shakiness in his voice was exposing him.

A faint ‘Yeah’ was all he heard before you unlocked the door.

And there you laid on the dirty bathroom tiles, your hair disheveled, make-up smudged, and you could barely get your head up from the toilet seat.

Steve’s heart sank, guilt settling in his insides again like an old friend. He knew he couldn’t always take care of you, and he knew that you’d be with Eddie soon, but he couldn’t help but feel the crushing weight of guilt when all of this could’ve been avoided if he was just there for you. 

And his mind was still reeling about the fact that Eddie dared to leave you like this.

Would the fucker even be able to treat you right?

“Want me to help you?” He asked, hands itching to reach out and hold you, but you dismissed him like it was nothing, like he didn’t mean anything to you anymore, and it had only been an hour since Steve had learned that Eddie was into you. 

“No,” Even when you were this messed up, you held onto your grudge, shutting out any feelings of understanding or empathy toward Steve, even though he was only trying to help you out.

“I can help, to, you know—hold your hair and stuff,” He stuttered, he had never been this nervous around you.

You flushed the toilet as you attempted to get up, “I’m not—I didn’t throw up,” Your words were slurred.

“If you… if you feel like throwing up, I can—”

“No!” You exclaimed a bit too loudly, throwing him a cold stare. “I’m just trying to help you, Y/N.” His tone sounded disappointed, but you could care less when he had acted like a jerk most of the night.

“I don’t need your help,” You snapped while flushing the toilet, trying to stand still, your head growing dizzier each time you moved.

Steve breathed a heavy sigh and said, “Here.” He ignored your protests as he helped you up, warm hands were tight around your waist. If you weren’t this embarrassingly drunk and a huge mess, you would’ve started getting your hopes up.

But not after today, not after he ignored you to be with Tammy Thompson all fucking night.

“I got it!” You spat, trying to free yourself from his hold. “Let me help, please.” This was the most genuine he had been tonight, his voice almost pleading as he threw you that pitiful look, and you hated it.

You hated being the one Steve pitied and not the one he pined after, but you swallowed your pride when you realized you couldn’t even walk properly.

You barely questioned everyone’s absence when your mind was filled with Steve. 

And once he dragged you out of the bar, you couldn’t help the petty words that escaped your lips; you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to.

“You can get back to your girlfriend now,” You muttered bitterly, your voice clear. There was venom in your tone, and your grudge was poison with the way it seeped into your words.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Steve sighed, and you lightly pushed him off of you as you stood still on your own.

“Does the name Tammy Thompson ring a bell?” You narrowed your eyes. You wish you could tape your mouth right now and stop yourself from spilling so much of your feelings to Steve.

“What does that have to do with anything, Y/N?” His tone remained cold now; your heart was in his hands, and he was squeezing it each time he distanced himself from you. 

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite,” Each time you dismissed him, you unknowingly tore open the old wound in his heart, keeping it fresh. 

“If—if you wanted to take care of me so badly, then why did you ignore me all fuckin’ night?” Your face heated with anger, and your tone was tinged with frustration. 

“Should go back to fuckin’ blondie over there,” You muttered under your breath, avoiding eye contact with him, unable to conceal the bitterness you were holding onto. 

“Oh my god,” The realization dawned on Steve at a crawl.

You were jealous of him.

“You are jealous,” Steve couldn’t help the annoying smile on his lips, much to your dismay. You were jealous of him, and as selfish as it was, it was amusing to him. 

“What?” You snapped, eyes narrowing, “I’m not jealous—” The look Steve threw at you was enough to break you. “Jerk,” You mumbled under your breath. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, it dooooeees,” He said, dragging his words out to annoy you further, as he took a step closer to you, almost closing the distance that he had been keen on protecting the entire night. 

He was frustrating, so fucking frustrating, spinning your head faster than all the booze in your system. You couldn’t help the way your eyes grew mellow when he looked at you like that, you wanted to take all of him in. 

This entire day was beginning to grow tiring, from Eddie’s sudden interest in you to Steve’s emotional whiplash, and now, since you couldn’t keep your mouth shut for one goddamn second, he was aware of your unnecessary jealousy. 

“I’m not doin’ this with you,” You slurred again, hands wrapping around yourself almost as an attempt to conceal yourself from him, he could see right through you, and it was making you feel things you were not ready for. 

“W—where is Eddie?” Those were the worst three words that could come out of your mouth. Just when Steve was basking in the glory and the hope that you were jealous of him, you decided to bring up Eddie, and with just his name rolling off your lips, you were re-opening his wounds.

Why not him?

Why was it never Steve?

Steve gulped; physically, he wasn’t sure what step to take would be better, to put a distance between you and him or to put a distance between him and Eddie. 

And even though he knew he would regret doing this like there’s no tomorrow, even though Eddie doesn’t fucking deserve this decency, or you, Steve decided that he can’t do this to his friend. 

“At least he’ll take me home!” You exclaimed so confidently that Steve couldn’t help the dry chuckle that escaped his lips. 

“Yeah, I’m sure he would.” Steve quipped, grinning. He was mocking you again, unaware of your growing frustrations.

“What the hell is your problem?” You narrowed your eyes. “Unlike you, he didn’t ignore me all night to be with his ex, and he gave me his jacket.” Steve chuckled at that, again, frustrating you more and more, each time he opened his mouth. 

With an irritated frown, you shot a sharp glance at him and asked, “Is everything a fucking joke to you?” 

“Do you enjoy making me upset?” You crossed your arms against your chest, “You don’t give a fuck about anyone but yourself!” You snapped, not even knowing know why you uttered those words, you knew better than anyone that Steve wasn’t selfish; he never once put himself in front of his friends, but you were aiming to hurt him, and he was ready to bite back now. 

“You are so fucking ridiculous, I—I can’t do this with you,” You murmured dejectedly, not being able to help it when your voice cracked; he was so embedded in your brain that you couldn’t form coherent words with the space he took up in your mind.

“You have no idea what you’re even talking about,” He whispered, shaking his head. If only you knew.

“Did you actually stop to think about how shitty it makes me feel when you give me these stupid emotional whiplashes?” You asked, and if you dared to get closer to him, you might’ve lost the purpose of the argument, your gaze drooping down to his lips every few seconds.

Steve stared at you blankly; you were unable to make anything out of his expressions, he looked at you as if you never existed to him, on a fucking whim.

Your lips tremble, a telltale sign that you would break soon.

His no response spoke volumes to you, “Of course you didn't.” You gave him a dry chuckle, filled with bitterness, and turned on your heel to walk away from him.

The slight breeze of February air hit you harder than Steve’s words.

He sighed a heavy breath when he heard you gasp at the coldness, hand reaching out to your arm before he spun you to meet his gaze again,

“Watch it, Y/N.” The words slipped past his lips forcefully, his chest puffing down with each breath he took. He was so fucking close that one move from you would change everything.

The tension was palpable; unspoken words and emotions hung in the space between the two of you.

And there it was.

There were his emotions again, filling his gaze quicker than you realized. If you weren’t this shitfaced, you could possibly do something about the ever so slightly distance between you, your foreheads almost touching. But your mind was spinning with endless possibilities. “Or what?” You teased; maybe it wasn’t the right time to do so, but you wanted to push him, make him break, the same way he did to you.

How far was he willing to take it?

His grip on your arm tightened; it wasn’t harsh, but tight enough to send shivers down your spine. And you couldn’t determine a single thing he was thinking again, eyes locked with each other without a single word being spoken.

You could sense his mind wandering off to find you a proper answer, trying to pick his words carefully, but you didn’t want that.

You wanted to know what he was thinking—what was going through his mind when he looked at you like you meant something to him, like he was ready to risk it all.

It was momentarily, but you could see it all—the sudden flint of confidence that didn’t waver enough to be convincing.

It wasn’t long until he returned to the cold demeanor he had been reserving just for you. “No, you’re not fucking worth it,” He muttered, taking a step back before he bit the inside of his cheek—hard. The metallic taste of blood flooded his senses, but he could care less; if he hadn’t done it, he would’ve poured his heart out.

He would’ve risked it all just to see those sparks in your eyes, but with five words, he had managed to kill it, slitting all the possibilities with the sharpest knife he could find.

“W–what?” Your voice cracked, and you fucking hated it. You hated being this weak in front of him, with tears ready to spill every time you had an argument, even over the smallest things.

“Just–Fuck! Look at you,” He didn’t want to say it; he didn’t want to burn this bridge with you, but he knew he had to for his own sake and for you to be happy with Eddie.

“You—you’re all over the place, always relying on others to take care of you, just one fucking night I didn’t baby you…” He shook his head. “And you act like I’m fuckin’ insane for doing that!” His voice was calm and collected, and that was what was throwing you off. How could he relay your insecurities in front of you, crush your heart to pieces, and pretend as if what he was saying was okay?

You couldn’t help it when tears flooded your vision. You tried not to let them get to you, but the alcohol in your system was far too dizzying and hormonal to stop your emotions from flowing. You didn’t know why he decided to utter those words, but it hurt.

Each of the gazes you shared and each word that transpired, deepened the wound in your insides that you didn’t even know existed, your feelings were at the surface, and you were vulnerable at his expense.

But Steve didn’t care. 

“I—I can’t believe you’d say that,” You whispered, blinking the tears away when you took a step back, the hurt subsiding when it transformed into rage. “Fuck you,” You spat, your words weren’t slurred this time, but your vision was blurry again, barely taking another look at him when you started to walk away.

And he didn’t call out after you; he didn’t even flinch. 

You were all alone.

You let your emotions overtake you as you started sobbing, sniffling every once in a while as you tried to comfort yourself. 

Eddie could drop you home, you tried to reassure yourself, you knew there was a payphone close to The Hideout, if you could just walk a few more minutes, you could just call him—but holy fuck, did your feet hurt. You cursed yourself for not listening to Nancy when she told you to wear more comfortable shoes.

You were wobbly now, tears pouring down your cheeks, your smudged mascara distorting your view further, and it was dark out, so fucking dark that it started to scare you.

Your mind reeled more and more, and your chest felt trapped with each shallow breath you took. Eddie would’ve never uttered those words to you, your angry mind decided, Eddie wouldn’t flirt with girls—his exes—in front of you.

Eddie would never give you this sort of emotional whiplash.

And most importantly, Eddie would never leave you like this.

You felt so tired, just wanting to sleep, but you knew you couldn’t turn back now. Your feet were aching, but you’d rather they blistered than see Steve again.

You sat on the ground, relief washing over you when you got rid of your shoes, and the dirty, cold concrete ground felt so comforting that you nuzzled into the leather jacket, arms wrapped around yourself to provide more warmth as you sniffled into it.

You’re not sure if you can ever be with Steve anymore.

Sure, you could still be friends because you did have many big, stupid fights—granted, none of them were like this; this was different. 

This was the first big fight you had with him since you realized your feelings for him, and it hurt.

Steve was not who you thought he was.

He was never going to love you.

He only saw you as his friend, and right now, even that was questionable.

And there you were, pathetically pining after him while he was drooling all over other girls, chasing him down and making a mess of yourself just for him to leave you like this.

You sniffled again; Eddie would never, and he actually was interested in you.

God, how you wished he could find you now, take you home, and whisper sweet nothings into your ear as he tried to mend what Steve broke.

You knew it was selfish, but it was the only way.

Maybe if Eddie could make you forget him completely, he could remind you that you weren’t a mess and that you were perfect.

Your vision blurred again, hot tears were stinging your eyes, but the ground was so comfortable.

Steve was right, you were a mess, you were a huge fucking mess, and you were pathetic, but you didn’t care as you hugged yourself further, head falling into your lap as you let yourself fall more and more into the deep pit of despair.

And that’s the last thing you remembered.

You didn’t remember Steve running after you as he realized how much he fucked up; you don’t remember Steve seeing you curled up into a ball, almost falling asleep.

You don’t remember Steve lifting you up and carrying you before anything bad happened to you.

You don’t remember the apologies Steve muttered into your ear on the ride home, how he checked every few seconds to make sure you were okay, his hands never leaving yours as he wanted to punch himself for even putting you in a position like this.

You don’t remember Steve whispering sweet nothings into your ear when he tucks you in, and you don’t remember him almost staying till the morning to make sure you were okay and didn’t get sick. 

The last thing you remember was the fight. 

You woke up the next morning with a groan, and you were sure no painkiller was going to help the pounding in your head. 

You couldn’t help but cringe when you looked in the mirror, your hair was an absolute mess, the top that adorned your neck was covered with alcohol stains, your make-up was smudged, and you only had one earring.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” You sighed, taking off the dirty clothes as you put on a comfy shirt, your room was as messy as you were, bag on the floor while its contents spilled out, and… a leather jacket?

Slowly but surely, last night’s events came to you in a blur. The last thing you remembered was the fight you had with Steve. 

Both of you spewed some hurtful things at one another, and that’s the clearest you could remember it.

You examined the leather jacket sprawled over the floor, and your brows knitted together, Steve didn’t even have a jacket on last night; you remembered because Robin made fun of him for not bringing a jacket in February when Steve whined about being cold.

You read the tagline; E.M. 

Oh god.

Was it… Eddie? Did he drop you off when you were embarrassingly drunk?

Was Eddie the one who took care of you the whole night while Steve threw you away like a piece of paper?

You remembered the hurtful things he said to you; your mind was too jumbled up to even recall the nice things he said to you afterward.

You knew you have to talk to him, mend your friendship, but all you could think about now was Eddie, how he took care of you, and how he was there for you. 

That day you called him, and he told you in detail how wasted you were and how he had to carry you home. You made up with Steve afterward too, both of you muttering apologies to each other as you promised not to let stupid things get out of hand. 

And that day, Eddie took you on your first date with him. 

NOW

“Buckley, you mind ringing these up for me?” You beamed, throwing her an innocent smile, your eyes wandering off to Steve’s absence next to her.

You gave her the ‘Evil Dead II’ and ‘Dirty Dancing’ VHS tapes nonchalantly, waiting to ask her about Steve.

Robin’s eyebrows shot up, “What kind of a double-feature is this supposed to be, huh?”

“A very fun one,” You said with a slight smirk, handing her a couple of bills.

You scanned the store, he was nowhere to be seen, of fucking course. “Harrington running from me again?” You almost cursed yourself for saying that out loud, but you couldn’t help it, something snarky would’ve slipped out eventually.

You saw Robin almost freeze, her mouth hanging open as her brain short-circuited to find a quick answer.

“I—It’s fine,” You mumbled. “Just tell him I would really like to talk to him. Once his weird tantrum is over?” You commented; it was snarky again, but he deserved it.

Five days had passed since the party, and Steve had been avoiding you like the plague, not returning your phone calls, and sneaking out the back each time you visited Family Video, and it was driving you crazy.

Determined to talk to him, you spent the last few days re-evaluating everything. You wanted to ask him what the fuck he meant—was everything that led to you dating Eddie a lie?

And did Steve never think to tell you this, even once the two of you broke up? His audacity was pissing you off, more than ever now that he was avoiding you.

Then small things started coming back to you in a flash, like the drunken confession you made to him last week.

But you were still clueless about The Hideout. You racked your brain away, but you couldn’t remember it for the life of you. Even the fight with Steve was so vaguely burned into the back of your brain, you simply didn’t want to remember it, or the hurtful words he uttered to you that night.

You had decided to forgive and forget, had no intention of going back to that head space, until recently, when Steve decided to blurt out that he was the one in Hideout, leaving without explaining anything further.

You tried to fish it out of Robin, but she acted clueless, and you tried everything you could do to reach out to Steve, but it was useless.

So that only left you with one thing.

Eddie.

Eddie had told you the day after The Hideout incident that it was he who took you home, detailing everything that happened that night.

You were basically breathless by the time you made it to Eddie’s trailer, knocking on the door, until it hit you.

What the fuck were you doing? Knocking on Eddie’s door when he had no fucking clue what was happening, when he had no idea you and Steve had kissed.

When he had no idea that you knew.

You shook your head in embarrassment as you turned around, about to leave, coincidentally and to your dumb luck, that’s when Eddie had decided to open the door.

He stood speechless when he saw you, his eyes almost bulging out of his head. “Y/N?” He asked, tone barely audible.

“Hi.” You muttered, accepting Eddie’s invitation as he stood aside for you to enter, and you squeezed by him with a quick ‘thank you’

“Look, I know you’re wondering why the fuck your ex showed up at your door but—”

“Oh, don’t worry.” He interrupted

“I do have an idea,” He smirked slightly, causing you to throw him a confused look, you were about to open your mouth, ask a million questions, but he didn’t let you.

“I know everything,” He muttered, and you couldn’t decide his facial expressions. “Steve told me about all of it.”

“And I already told him there was no bad blood between me and you and that it was fine that you guys kissed—”

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

“What?!?” You exclaimed, not expecting Steve to babble about it to Eddie when he had been avoiding you.

“Look, honey, Steve was all blabbering and shit when he came to see me, tellin’ me all this shit about how much he liked you and how sorry he was,” Eddie said with a concerned look.

“And I told him it was all fine, Christ—when did we even date, like 2 years ago?” You didn’t answer him and he sighed. 

“I always knew the two of you had something for each other, I mean, why’d you think I got so jealous anytime you guys hung out together alone? He was definitely—“” He rambled for what felt like minutes, and you were quick to interrupt it, eyes blinking rapidly as you tried to process what the fuck was going on.

“Stop!” You exclaimed, “That’s… uhm– good to know, but not what I came in here for,” You muttered, eyes wandering to the ground.

He threw you a quizzed look, brows knitted up together, “I–I wanted to ask you about something,” You gulped.

“Well, spill it out, sweetheart, you’re makin’ me all nervous and shit.” He gave you a dry chuckle.

“What–what exactly happened that day?” You knew he was going to ask what the fuck you were talking about, so you cut him off before he got a chance to speak.

“At The Hideout… Two years ago.” You could see Eddie almost panic visibly, he didn’t expect it, and did it really matter now, after everything?

“Shit… why won’t you ask Steve about all this?” He scratched his head, it was all awkward, you coming here, asking him something that was two years ago, Steve telling Eddie about the kiss while refusing to acknowledge you… 

It was embarrassing, really, and with each passing minute, a rage fueled inside of you. Sick of the hiding, and the lies. You just wanted the truth, and for Steve to not run at the first inconvenience.

“I would, if he didn’t avoid me like a fucking child,” You spat under your breath, causing Eddie to chuckle. He shook his head again.

“Right, so… I’m assuming since it was two years ago, you won’t be mad at me, right?” He asked, an innocent look spreading over his face, almost fearing as he saw how angry you were at Steve.

You almost rolled your eyes, these two idiots were making your blood boil. “Just want the truth, Munson, then I’ll be gone, I promise.”

“Right!” He chuckled nervously before telling you everything that happened that night.

You called Eddie right after you found his jacket, blabbering like an idiot as you thanked him a million times. While Eddie had no fuckin’ clue what had happened, he was still trying to get over his own hangover, but he wasn’t going to completely shut you down, not when he wanted you this badly, not when you were in the grasp of his hands.

As soon as you hung up, promising him a date, he called Steve, and he didn’t even have to beg him to play along; Steve was just... okay with it.

Steve knew the moment Eddie told him about his little crush that the two of you had no chance and that Steve would only be a little thought in the back of your mind, while Eddie would be the first choice, because why wouldn’t he?

Why would you choose him over Eddie?

And with all the sudden information flooding your mind, you weren’t sure how to react, how to vent all these emotions running through your veins, so you did it the only way you knew how; anger.

You checked the clock; 10.08

Steve’s shift should’ve ended long ago by now, you barely mumbled a goodbye to Eddie when you left, mind focused on one thing.

Steve.

You arrived at his door with your lips tightening and your jaw clenching, you weren’t going to give up now; you were going to talk to him. Now or never.

You knocked on the door so hard that you were sure your knuckles were bruising, and Steve was baffled when he opened the door, mouth almost agape as he looked at the sight in front of him.

“You know what you are? A fucking coward,” You mumbled, not giving him a second to process anything as you shook your head. 

“You are a selfish fucking coward! Do you think you can make decisions for other people? You think you can just take their choices away and pretend like everything is fucking fine!” Steve didn’t utter a word when you let it all out, your words meshing with each other, and you could feel your blood boiling each time you spoke, but it was… weirdly relieving.

All that pent up anger was finally coming out.

“And you told Eddie?!? You fucking talked to him but didn’t have the guts to even face me! Five days, five fucking days, I followed you around, you fucking jerk!” You spat, your eyes flashed with anger as your face came closer to him, he didn’t even flinch, eyeing you curiously, those deep honey glazed eyes were warming the more he looked at you.

And Oh God, was his gaze inviting, so warm, but you couldn’t soften up… not when you still had so much to say.

“Do you know how embarrassing it is for me? No—no… Fuck that! I don’t even give a fuck if it's embarrassing, I’ve been–I’ve been living a lie and you–it’s your fault…” You mumbled the last part, chest heaving, when your fiery gaze met his, he was itching to talk, and you could tell.

“That—that’s a bit dramatic don’t you think?” He muttered, causing your eyes to narrow, “Look why don’t we just go inside and have an adult conversation? No need for these tantrums—” And that hit a nerve. 

“Don’t,” You muttered, closing your eyes, the rage bubbling up to the surface again, gnawing at your skin, waiting to welcome you.

“Don’t you fucking dare to tell me to have an ‘adult conversation’ when you’ve been avoiding me like the plague!” You exclaimed angrily, face heating with anger, Steve nodded, understandingly. He didn’t mean to sound like a jerk, he just wanted to talk to you. He had been debating what to do these last five days, and shutting you out during that was obviously stupid, but that’s how he handled everything, wallowing it all until he chewed his emotions, keeping them hidden.

“What was I supposed to do?” He asked, almost defeated, and it made you want to chuckle, he was sending you over the edge.

“Are you kidding me?” It wasn’t a question; it was stupid for Steve to even attempt to open his mouth.

“You could have talked to me!” You took a deep breath; your anger wasn’t going to help, and if you didn’t talk to Steve as soon as possible, your head might have exploded.

You sighed as Steve stood aside, leading you to the living room, and your anger subsided with each step you took. The familiarity of the house was engulfing you, and you wanted to scream. 

What if Steve had told you this would change nothing?

What if this was it for the two of you?

Your head was swirling, and it hurt, both physically and emotionally. It was taking a toll on you and Steve could sense it.

“What—what really happened… that day?” You asked, voice barely audible as you avoided his gaze.

Steve sighed as he took a seat next to you on the couch, hand itching to lay on your thigh, squeeze it to make you feel comfortable, just so you would look at him, but he resisted it, hand flexing as he placed it between the two of you.

“You–you remember our fight?” He mumbled, causing you to nod. “We both said some stupid shit to each other—”

“Well, you started it—” You gazed up at him, and this time he threw you a look, causing you to close your mouth as if to signal him to continue.

“And—and you left… and the second you did, I just felt this horrible fucking pit in my stomach, I could never—I could never leave you like that,” His voice was shaking, hands flexing again as he inched closer to you.

“I found you on the street, Y/N, almost passed out, and I lost my goddamn mind for leaving you alone—even for a second, I ca—I can’t fucking imagine what I would even do if anything happened to one–one fucking strand of your hair—just the thought makes me sick to my stomach—Jesus.” He muttered, face still toward you as you could trace it now, the worried lines etched onto his forehead, a frown taking upon his usual plump lips, voice cracking as you could sense it, the utter worry and desperation in his voice. 

You couldn’t open your mouth, words failing you as you opted out to hold his hand instead, a small gesture, but one that made Steve’s entire stiffness disappear. One touch from you warming him up immediately.

“I took you home as fast as I could—I tucked you in, made sure you didn’t get sick, and then I left.” 

“Why?” You asked, meekly.

“Why did you let me believe it was him? Why did you ignore me that night?”

“It–it doesn’t matter now,” He mumbled, and your brows furrowed again, fury still locked up inside of you.

“It fucking does!” You snarled, insides burning with anticipation and anger.

“Stop being a fucking coward,” You yelled, you didn’t want to scream at his face, but he left you with no choice. If you wanted to talk to him, you had to get some things out of him, no matter how much it angered you.

“Just tell me, Steve, full transparency, I want it all out.”

Steve’s silence caused a groan out of you, “If you don’t, I’m gonna leave… for good,” You whispered. 

You were bluffing; you weren’t going to go anywhere without getting some closure, but Steve didn’t know that, and he had never seen you this riled up, so he sighed when you got up.

“I didn’t want to lose you!” He got up after you, staring at your back for a full minute until you turned around to meet him, a quizzed look overtaking your features.

“What?”

“God! I wanted to—Shit. I wanted to tell you about how I felt, but then Eddie came and he told me all about how he had feelings for you, and, uh, I just panicked— so fucking hard. I knew you would have chosen him, and I had that rejection one too many fuckin’ times, and I—I knew I couldn’t handle it from you!” He exclaimed, breath ragged as his brown orbs looked at you with such sympathy that you wanted to drop everything and kiss him, tell him that he would always be your first choice.

“I knew you would choose him and—” 

“I didn’t want to be a second choice again, Y/N, I was so fucking scared—” You shook your head.

“Steve you—god, you have no fucking clue about anything,” You chuckled dryly, interrupting him.

“When you ignored me for Tammy that night, when you told me that I wasn’t ‘worth it’ that’s when I decided to contain my feelings for you, I knew you didn’t like me for anything more than friends—I always thought we had a ‘will they won’t they’ kind of relationship but that night, confirmed it for me,” You looked away, almost ashamed, face burning up.

“I felt so fucking desperate—like you wanted to push me away like I was an idiot girl who was clinging onto you, and now everything is just so confusing that I don’t even know what is going on.” Your hands ran through your hair.

“But you were and will always be my first choice,” You didn’t mean to smile, but it just appeared, anger washing away. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” You muttered, and Steve’s entire demeanor changed, his body relaxing as he realized how much of an idiot he had been.

“What?” He asked, baffled, a small smile overtaking his lips before you could say another word. 

“Yeah,” You murmured, taking a step closer to him, 

“So… we’re both idiots, huh?” He asked, basking in the way you looked up at him, batting your eyelashes as your warm aura engulfed him.

“Hmmm… I’d say it’s more you than me,” You mumbled, scrunching your nose, as Steve huffed playfully, inching closer and closer to you. You didn’t know where this took the two of you, but your mind was so busy when he was standing this close to you.

One strand of his hair fell onto his forehead, and all you wanted to do was run your fingers through them, kiss every inch of his face, run your lips along his soft ones, feel his calloused hands on your curves, grabbing desperately, meek grunts leaving his lips, both of you breathless.

And that’s exactly what you did—without a care, you closed the distance between the two of you with an annoyed huff, fingers running through his shiny hair. 

His hands were quick to land on your hips, grabbing them like he was afraid of you slipping away, once again. And it all felt so easy and familiar that you could feel your head spinning.

His lips brushed against yours softly. You didn’t want this moment to be over, wanting to cling to him forever. Everything he did made you feel foolish and insane, and you understood why being in love felt like losing your mind, again.

Steve groaned into your lips, kissing you harder, once, twice, his lips never fully letting go of you, and you didn’t know if it would ever be enough for you, utterly craving nothing but him.

Your mind was jelly at this point, everything was tangled together while the question of ‘What’s going to happen now?’ lingered in your mind. Did he still want you? Did he still want to be together? Why didn’t he just come to you after talking to Eddie? 

You tried to shake them off, tried to focus on the way Steve’s hands stuck to your body, like they belonged there, and the way his lips moved along yours, like it had always been this way.

You wanted to continue, wanted so badly to not let this moment go, but the bickering voices in your head were too much, and you pulled away slowly. Steve almost groaned when he felt the absence of your lips. He blinked once, twice.

“Oh, fuck. Do that again.” He unintentionally let out, gaze filled with lust as his pupils were blown wide, and a small giggle left your lips. “You are an idiot,” You whispered, your gaze settling on him. 

Was everything going to be okay?

How were you even going to manage to make this work? 

And with that, your expression soured, “Steve,” You said seriously, causing him to look up at you with concern all over his face. “I don’t want to get hurt again.” You murmured, forehead touching his.

“I won’t hurt you, ever.” His gaze was intense, and it made you feel giddy, worries washing away in seconds. You don’t know how he fucking did it, but it worked. 

And you trusted him like no one else. 

You couldn’t help it when your lips twitched into a smile. “You promise?” You gushed.

“With all my heart, honey.” He whispered, taking a deep breath. 

“You have no fuckin’ idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, dreaming about this...”

“I would never, ever do anything to hurt you.” He muttered, his hands tucking the strand of hair that was blocking him from placing messy kisses all over your face. 

“I couldn’t handle losing you, not again,” He murmured before leaning in to press more kisses all over your soft lips.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

bonus scene: just for shits n giggles idk

“What movies did you get today?” He asked with a childish grin on his lips.

“If you weren’t avoiding me, you would’ve known, pretty boy.” You exclaimed dramatically, crossing your arms against your chest.

Pretty boy.

The only thing that stuck in Steve’s brain was that he was your pretty boy.

And this giddy feeling inside of him was never going to go away, he decided.

He huffed playfully before he grabbed your bag, causing you to gasp. “Let’s see…” He murmured as he tried to find the VHS tapes.

“Aha!” He exclaimed as he grabbed the two of them, turning the cover to see what movies you rented. 

“Oh my god,” He murmured. “A double-feature? For us?” He couldn’t help the way his lips twitched into a smile, so warm that you wanted to bathe in the glory of making him this happy.

“Mhmm… First, Evil Dead II for me, and once Stevie gets scared, we’ll put on Dirty Dancing.” You give him a wink.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” He groaned. “You are so fucking perfect, I’m gonna lose my mind.” He placed a kiss on your forehead.

another a/n: so this is a bit messy bc i had too many ideas and this is the best i could do to fit them all in, i hope this doesn't feel that disconnected from the first!! work has been kicking my ass lately so my mind is all mushed lmao!! feel free to leave ur feedback and pls comment, like or reblog to support me ily <33

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hiii

Idk if you have done this before but a Morpheus x reader one where Dream has been recently set freed and is so touched deprived that when he met up with reader once mode after being separated for a century he can't control himself and it leads to some sexy stuff in which it leads to them breaking the bed (kinda like the honeymoon scene in twilight 🤭)

Just straight up desperate needy Morpheus hours 🫶🏻

Caged

Dream of the Endless x Demon Hunter!Reader

Summary: Dream has made himself believe that he is alone in the world, nothing has further solidified this that being imprisoner for a century. Who'd have thought he'd find warmth in one of the coldest people alive.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, smut (biting, marking, dom/sub dynamic, hair pulling, vaginal penetration, oral [m receiving], edging ig?, unprotected sex, brat!dream idk it just happened, praise kink [uh... reader talks to him like a god during sexy time so]), hurt/comfort ig, reader's so angry HAHAHH T_T, fluff, etc.

A/N: im not in the mood for smut but i might be when i write this. update MINORS DNI hello nonnie i am finally in the mood for smut HAHHAAHHA and i am in the mood to ruin dream's life (: i took a lot of creative liberties i have no idea why i made this so long so i hope you enjoy it my dear <3 another day another 5k smut fml Also i invented a lot of stuff for reader, like giving Morpheus a Roman name so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just just just roll with it along with my most definitely wrong google translated Latin ok? ok. Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 @sloanexx anOTHER one (continuation) "Petty And Yours"

"You know," I swirled a watermelon lollipop in my mouth, "you're so pathetic for that."

A breeze blew back my maxi dress and I crossed my arms at the fact I was being ignored by the uncharacteristically warmly dressed man.

The park bench he was sat in the middle off had some fallen leaves that were slowly tumbling down to the ground with the push of the wind. I give him a moment to respond. I huff at his continued silence.

"Earth to Dream?" I call louder.

Still nothing.

"Somnium Regem?"

A bird makes a sound as a large piece of bread is gobbled down its throat.

"Hey! Sulky trench coat man!" I bark.

Finally, the man feeding pigeons turns to me.

His eyes are dull and bright all at once, a shade of glistening blue that had no life behind them. I raise my brows, lips pulling upward in distaste, "you remind me of that bat in Gotham. So emo for no reason," I scoff, straightening my arms, "everyone's parents die at some point."

"Why are you here, demon hunter?" the being grips his baguette.

I scoff again, "I'm here because I like you, baby."

He turns away from me, tearing up bread, haphazardly then dropping it in front of small creatures. I grimace as the birds flock over to the bread like they had nothing better to do-- which they don't.

"I do not enjoy your bitter sarcasm, eight," Dream says pointedly.

I roll my eyes, walking over to him, fingers rolling the lollipop stick sticking by the side of my mouth, "well, if you didn't ask me stupid-" I push his legs together so that I can sit next to him, "-fucking questions, then maybe I wouldn't want to constantly drop kick you."

Dream hastily moves to the side as I plop down next to him, crossing my legs as I lean back and stretch my arm out on the backrest. I look at him as he looks at me. Wind blows at both of our hair. I move his dark strands along with the breeze so that I would not poke at his already glassy eyes.

He blankly stares.

I shrug in expectance, "Domina told me you've been sulking, and that I'd find you here, just like how she found you here days ago."

Dream blinks, "my sister should not have troubled you with needless concerns."

I furrow my brows at his response. I roll my eyes incredulously, "you are so fucking stupid."

He gives me side eye before turning back to his pigeons.

"You know, for someone who should have a profound understanding of the world, you clearly don't know anything."

The Endless hisses under his breath, "silence."

"What?" I give him a look, "don't like that?"

I can see him almost going against himself as not to sneer at my grilling.

I pout exaggeratedly and speak as though I was a child, "wha' you gon' do 'bout it? You gon' kill me now?" I raise my hands and monotonously hark, "oh no help, I'm so scared."

"I do not know why Death sent for you," he quips, breaking his gaze from the birds to narrow his eyes at me. He continues crumbling bread onto the ground.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I straighten and face forward, "that's because I'm the most irritating bondservant she has," I prop my elbows on my legs, "which is effective for making people want to do my bidding in return for me shutting up."

"I shall not leave," he looks to the feeding animals, "I am keeping the pigeons company," he mutters, "they appear... lonesome."

I wipe my hands on my face, pulling the lollipop out of my mouth as I sigh, "intenta et tenera domina." My eyes twitch in annoyance when I muttered 'the attentive and tender lady' in my mother tongue. "I should have known we were playing therapist today."

I shake my head, popping the candy back in my mouth, grabbing the bread from his hand. He turns to me, helplessly watching, unable to fight against me; he knows I'd bite his finger off if he touches me.

"Ever heard of projecting, Somnia?" I hiss, chucking his baguette as far off as I can.

He watches the projectile disappear into a bush.

He glares at me.

Goosebumps form on my skin when he speaks, "visne noctes noctes te affligere?"

Admittedly, the roll and click of his tongue speaking Latin did make me stiffen, though, 'do you want nightmares to plague you tonight?' was a threat so empty to me.

I sniffle, retorting in the same language, "I haven't visited your nightmarish domain since its castle walls began to crumble."

Dream takes his turn to freeze.

I tilt my head, crushing the lollipop between my teeth, "personally," I pull the stick out my mouth, tucking it in Dream's pocket, who does nothing when I do so, "I take enough trips to hell to not want to visit something that mirrors it so well. Not when I'm supposed to be dreaming of heaven."

I can see how my words strike through him.

I notice how his stoic and pale face hardens and loses its color even more.

I continue to egg him on, "I feel bad for your dreamers who think the drab ones the have at night are the best you can do."

I can almost hear the gloom radiate off him.

I purse my lips and stand, "speaking of nightmares, I caught your nightmare once," I place my hands on my hips, "I thought the gruesome serial killing was demonic in nature, so I tracked the killer, only to find it was no other than your Corinthian."

Dream looks at me, expressionless, as I raise my brows, "did you handle him, Somnium Regem?"

The Dream King looks like he does not want to talk to me at all now. I give him a challenging look and needlessly straighten out his coat for effect.

He straightens up, then brings his hands in his pocket, pulling out a skull that had teeth where his eye sockets should have been.

I look at the thing, feeling a swirl in my stomach, "poor In Oculis."

Dream visibly reacts to the Corinthian's old Latin name, The Eyeless.

He remnant of his creation disappears from the palm of his hand, "how long have you gone without sleep?"

I turn away from him, shrugging at his U-turn back into that conversation, "does it matter? I won't die."

"It matters because Somnium Regem is inquiring this of you."

I turn to him and repeat my answer, "I told you, ever since your castle began to crumble, it's just be me, myself, and coffee."

Somnia stands, towering over me, uncharacteristically high, "you have not slept in a hundred years?"

I look up at him with knit brows, "has anyone slept in a hundred years?"

"Then at once you must-"

"I'm not here-" I grab his collar, tugging him down slightly closer to me, "-to talk about my sleep pattern, Somnia. I'm here to make you stop sulking."

"That is not your forte, demon hunter," he brings his face close to mine, "perhaps if you were from the fifth."

"Fuck you," I snap, getting on my tiptoes to near his stupidly high face, "I'm good at everything."

Somnia grumbles something under his breath.

I release my grip on his coat and snap my fingers, "and besides," I raise my arms out to the side. I take one step back and allow myself to fall backwards. I then dip into the portal I conjured in the ground, swinging up until I was standing on the other side.

I turn over my shoulder, finding Dream was already standing there behind me. I grin, "I'm the only person who knows what it's like to be trapped for a hundred years."

Now in the confines of my home, I strut over to my sofa where an axe was placed and consecutively forgotten, "though, mine was eight hundred."

I turn to Dream, who suddenly looked uncomfortable.

I laugh at him, "wow. You finally feel bad for me? You used to be so indifferent when I mentioned that to you."

My eyes zero in on the note on my axe, hissing at the reminder that I meant to put it away last week. I grab the piece of paper, instinctively crumpling it. I instantly regret my innate inclination to destroy, cursing under my breath, then flattening out the thing.

"Make yourself at home, Morpheus," I rub the paper in my hand, "let me just put this thing back where it came from."

I grab the axe and prop it on my shoulder.

Dream does not make himself at home; he instead follows me as I walk to the weapons room. I give him a look, "I guess you can feed the gremlins in the basement if you want."

"I would rather follow you."

I shrug, "ok then."

I make my way down the hall, and open the light in room once I enter, revealing the age old trinkets and gadgets my family has been using since the first generation. I bring the note to a chamber that then seals the object with the rest of the artifacts like it.

Dream further scrutinizes the thing as I walk to the axe holders. "Constantine?" he says after reading what was written on the note.

I grunt as I put away the borrowed item, "the idiot wanted to borrow this," I motion to the axe in my grip, "I told her she can't touch it, touched it anyway, didn't die" I huff, after securing the axe back in its place. I place my hands on my hips as I turn to Dream, "and now I got a thank you note in return."

Dream turns back to the note that read: Thxxx -Constantine.

"Items of gratitude are the best bait for a soul suckers," I say, then pointing to a bunch of dark hued orbs on a shelf before walking over to him, "almost as good as nightmares."

I reach his side as he looks out to his gift to the sixth, the sixth generation of my family, Nightmare Marbles. They were largish glass spheres that harnesses the darkness of nightmares; a demon's equivalent to chocolate bars.

"And you relived your worst nightmare to procure so much bait, eight?" Dream whispers, turning to me with a tense expression.

I give him a look, "didn't you say my grandma from the third generation was also a sucker for punishment?"

"She did not go through her worst nightmare 78 times to make nightmare marbles."

I turn to the shelf, "damn, you managed to count all that so quickly?"

"Eight, this is-"

"What? I'm genuinely impressed!"

I freeze when he calls out my actual name. He rarely did that. In fact, there were only a few people who knew my real name and did not call me eight. Eight, as in I am from the eighth generation of demon hunters from my family. It became my name because, well, I was the only left, which was why I could not die.

I feel my belly roll at the sound. I clear my throat, weakly speaking, "what?"

"I did not gift that to your grandparents only to have you use it to punish yourself."

"Why would I want to punish myself?" I mutters, "I'm not you."

Dream is silent.

I sigh, walking out of the room, "after living out eight hundred years in hell in one fucking day, you tend to instinctively get fucked up in the brain."

I make my way down the hall, and at the end, Dream was there, already waiting for me. I give him a quick look as I pass him, "the nightmare doesn't hurt me anymore."

"Eight," he calls. I do not stop on this account. I do, however, when he asks, "why are you lying to me?"

I suck in a breath, keeping it deep in my lungs. I feel him walk up to me. I feel him take my hand.

I turn to him, sighing and brows knitting at his affection. He is still towering over me, and don't feel like craning my neck up so I don't look at him. I tighten my grip on his hand, "why are you lying to me?"

When I finally look up at him, he releases a breath. I release his hand and get on my tip toes to grab his cheeks. It was as though his glassy eyes were waiting for this moment to allow the tears to fall.

I knit my brows at the unexpected reaction. I sigh at the sight of him.

"I did not lie to you," he responds like a secret.

"Really?" I speak in disbelief as I wipe tears on his cheeks, "was it the pigeons that were lonesome, or you?"

"... both..."

I fall back onto my feet, hands trailing down to his chest, "you're right. I suck at... comfort..." I take the lapels of his coat between my fingers, "only cause I'm rough around the edges. Sorta like you," I hum, raising a brow at him, "except I can admit to it, whereas you-"

I push his chest, making him walk back all the way to the sofa my axe was moments ago. I force him down, and down he goes, bouncing on the cushion. He looks up at me as I pull away and give him a soft smile, "you need that coaxed out of you."

I was meant walk away from him, but he grabs my thigh before I can.

"Non potes exspectare dicere tale quid me derelinquas."

You cannot expect to say such a thing then leave me.

I look at the hand hooked behind my thigh. I raise my brow quizzically, "I have work."

"I am your work," he says, other hand coming to my other thigh, "your Lady commanded you to take care of me."

I snort, grabbing his chin, "no, she told me to make you stop sulking."

"Yes, she did," he hums, hands trailing down my legs, grabbing the ends of my skirt.

"You were literally crying a moment ago."

"You're a tear in my heart."

"That's a twenty one pilots song."

"And I am eager for you to make me stop sulking."

Dream's eyes are fixed on me s he leans in and begins bunching up the fabric in his palms, slowly bringing them up with his hands.

I release a sigh when his hands make it back where it was before, though perhaps a bit higher this time. I place my hands on his arms, stopping him from continuing. He turns stills like a statue before me.

I nibble my lower lip before speaking, "if we're going to do this, we do this in my terms."

His lips instantly curve up in response. He nods slowly, "in imperio tuo."

On your command.

I push him back upon hearing that, a lump in my throat forming at the words from my mother tongue. I quickly climb on to him, straddling his legs, fingers combing into the roots of his hair by his nape.

I immediately lock his lips with mine. His hands work much quickly this time around, ripping my skirt all the way up, making me raise my hands so that he can pull my dress off me.

I moan against him when his hands begin to scratch up my back. He moans against me when I grind down on him.

I pull away, catching my breath so I could take my turn in undressing him. He moves to help me rid of his ridiculous coat and when he grips his shirt, I hiss at him, giving him a stern look, "don't spoil my fun."

I then push myself off him and bunch up his shirt in my hand, dragging him all the way back to my bedroom.

Once we're there, I push him onto my bed and crawl on top of him, perching on top of his groin, slowly digging my hands into his sides, underneath his clothes.

I reveal his stomach to me, pressing my fingers down the middle of his skin, "so pretty."

His hand trail up my thighs, kneading at the flesh, humming, "yes," he tugs at my panties, "you are quite exquisite."

I chuckle, lips curving into a smile, "aww, you're going to make me blush," I swat at his hands, "hands off."

He reluctantly obeys.

At this point, I rid him off his shirt and his hands immediately move to come back to my thighs. I swat him away again, to crawl down and begin to attentively kiss his chest.

I sigh against him as his hands come to my sides. I feel the purr-like sounds he produces as I suck and graze my teeth on his muscly pec. I hum in approval when I pull away and see the blazing red mark I left on his burning white skin, "if you morph my art off your body, I will give you nightmares."

I begin working on his skin again when he laughs at my words. I feel the vibration on my lips. He rubs my shoulder with his hand, "a titillating thought."

I look at him from where he was looking down at me and bite down on the side of his ribcage. He grunts in response. I raise a brow at him, "it's a threat, Somnia."

His eyes darken, where mine sparkle.

Without warning, he pulls my head back by my hair, and pushes himself up by his other arm, "who do you think you're threatening, child?"

I wince, chuckling under my breath, "clearly this wanton creature beneath me."

He pulls me back by my hair more as he sits up all the way. I make a sound as he grabs my thigh and skids me closer on him.

Dream brings his face close to mine, nostrils flaring, as if in warning.

I chuckle, licking his lips, "remember, sweetling," I tug on his lower lip, releasing it to say, "on my command."

He sucks in a deep breath.

I raise a brow, "you wouldn't want me to leave you, now do you?"

He sighs, releasing my hair.

I push him back down, clicking my tongue as I do so, "naughty boy," I chastise, "wanting to take the reins so badly."

I begin to undo his pants, holding in my laugh at the visible imprint on him, "maybe I should take precautions before undoing you, hmm?"

I push myself off him and leaning to my side. His hands take hold of my waist as I grab something from my bedside table. I look down on him with a grin as his hands knead at me. I shake my head, "off."

Dream stills.

"Get your hands off me, Dream."

He obeys and so I take both his wrists in front of me. The golden serpent bracelet begins to then slither around his wrists. He watches this contraption shackle him and grunts, "you mock me, demon hunter."

I chuckle, moving off him, "well, you're being quite difficult."

Dream helplessly watches as I get off the bed and walk to the side of the room. I hear him try to rip at his cuffs. I laugh as I grab a silver spear, "that was a gift from Jupiter. Try not break it."

I then plummet my spear at the base of my bed. I wiggle a finger at Dream, beckoning him over, "now come over, beloved Somnia."

He does not struggle as he crawls over to me with bound hands.

"On your back," I say, "hands up."

Dream does just that, rolling on his back, bringing his bound wrists to the spear where the serpent then begins to constrict itself.

"Very good, my king."

The king makes a sound of distaste, which I heartily laugh at.

I waste no more time and quickly go to him, ridding him of his remaining clothing like a kid on Christmas morning.

My lips involuntarily part at the size of him, "fuck. I forgot you made yourself... bigger."

I find offence when he chuckles and croons, "will this be a problem?"

"No," I quip quickly.

"Very good, then," he smiles.

I mock, "very good then."

Once it was now just me, him, and his pulsing length, I begin my ministrations. I crawl back on him and grin, grabbing his hardened member, "not quite a watermelon lollipop but-" I cut myself off and take him in my mouth.

He heavily breathes out and shuts his eye. I giggle in approval over his reactions, one hand coming to my core, already slickened with arousal.

I lap my tongue around him before taking him deeper. I press both my hands on his thighs when his legs begin to stir.

I dig my nails into his hips and slowly constrict my teeth around him as I bob my head up and down him. In a sort of challenge for myself, I make an attempt to take him all. The moment he hits the back of my throat however, I begin to struggle and will myself to relax to further take him in.

When I begin to gag, I pull myself off and catch my breath, leaning my weight into, "you did this on purpose," I scoff, "you knew this would happen."

"I am not omniscient," he laughs, "I did not foresee this-"

"Oh fuck you," I cut him off, "I'm going to fucking make you cry."

Oh, you can bet that he found that funny.

His laughter was cut off when I removed my underwear, chucking my panties and bra to where ever, then mounted myself on him. I am glad I am wet enough to take him in but I cannot withhold the whine that I tried to conceal as I did so. Fuck him and his magnum cock.

Well... that was what I was doing.

Once I am on him, he lets out a moan and the pulls at his shackles, making the snake bracelet glow and constrict tighter on him.

I take my turn to laugh this time around, and my core, which was still busy adjusting to the size of him, flutters around him. I don't say it as self-satisfied as I wanted to, "serves you right."

He calls out my name. It makes my stomach roll.

I fell him slowly rock his hips into me and I push down on his chest, whining at his attempts, "stop! Stop! Give me a fucking chance."

He instantly stops and looks up at me with a worried look, "I apologize, I-"

"Shut the fuck up," I shake my head, "the more you speak, the more I want to fuck you up."

Dream presses his lips into a thin line, but he obeys.

After a while, I allow myself to ride him like an eager jockey.

I rock myself on him at a slow pace. I heave in and out at the overwhelming feel of him. My toes curl at the bundle of nerves he hits every time he fills me up to to my fucking stomach.

I sigh as I rub on my sensitive nub as I press my weight forward. I close my eyes and chew on my lip at the sensations. I drag my flesh out of my teeth as I begin to feel pressure build within me.

"More," Dream whines, craning his head up to look at me.

I look down on him, narrowing my eyes, "pretty boys like you don't ask," I mutter, "they beg."

I push my hands on his chest and lean down to give him a kiss, all while keeping the slow pace of my thrusts. When he meets me halfway to take my lips in his, I dodge him, then rub my nose on his, "I said beg. Beg for me."

He moves his head closer to catch my lips, and I pull all the way back, sitting up again to look down on him in disappointment. He whines, pulling his arms, making my contraption glow and constrict all over.

He drops his head in defeat. I chuckle.

"Beg," I call out louder.

Dream gulps, "please."

"What?"

"Please."

"Please, what?" I cease the roll of my hips, "please stop?"

He heaves, lifting his head back up, ripping at his wrist, "please don't stop."

"Mmm," I nod, "but I'm a little confused, my lord," I massage my breasts, "what exactly should I be doing?"

He watches my hands for a moment. I'm amused it actually distracts him. I chuckle, "Earth to Dream?"

Dream sighs.

"Somnia?" I drag out.

"Move your hips," he says breathlessly.

I hum, pretending to debate his words.

"Please," he adds, making me smile.

I rub my wetness on him, "you mean like this?"

Dream sighs, gulping roughly, "no."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, but I have no idea what you mean, my king," I pout, making no attempt to give him what he so clearly wanted.

"Thrust into me," he sputters, "ride me like an eager jockey."

I snort, breaking into a laugh. I feel a rush shoot through me. My hands come up to my cheeks, "you heard that?" I giggle, "dirty, dirty boy, listening to my thoughts."

"Please," he strains, pulling at his binds again. He drops his head, huffing, "please move."

"Well, now that you're asking me so nicely," I muse, shifting on him, hands falling back on his chest. I begin to move up and down, slow and steady, emptying out and getting filled right back in with his stiffened length.

He moans in approval, eyes closing in pleasure. I sigh and lick my upturned lips, "better, baby?"

"Yes," he drags out a breath, "yes, thank you."

I groan at his words, moving a bit faster, "oh fuck, that's hot. Am I making you feel good?"

"Yes. Very good."

I whine, "fuck."

As I move on him, I savor his feel, how he's deliciously stretching me out and how my insides were sucking him in.

I momentarily slow when I hear a strained crackling sound in front of me. What the fuck was that?

It takes me about two seconds to realize it was my bracelet. Oh fuck.

I feel my inside flutter at the possible threat literally about to unravel before me. I lick my lips, "you enjoying yourself, Dream?"

He only moans in response.

"That's not an answer, darling?" I hum, slowing down all over again.

His eyes break open and his jaw tenses. I hear a fucking cracking sound. Is that my spear or my bracelet?

"Come on, use your words, Prince of Stories."

"I want you to move faster," he mutters gutturally.

What the fuck, is that my floor?

"Please?"

I dig into the side of his ribs and give in to his pleas. He moans and shuts his eyes again, but the strain on my bracelet does not waver. I watch as the object burns brighter.

I whimper when Dream begins to move beneath me. I tear my gaze from his wrists to his face, scowling at him, "behave."

To my surprise, he obeys, then whispers, "please kiss me."

I coo at his sentiment, feeling my core for him. I lean over and plant my lips on him. I moan at the feel of his tongue sneaking into my mouth.

I bring my grip onto the mattress and begin moving faster than I have yet. I whine and pull away from him to catch my breath, "giddy fucking up horsey."

It takes me a second to realize what I just fucking said.

The next moment, I grunt and find myself giggling. I crack myself up with how wholeheartedly stupid and dick delirious I've become. As I continue to laugh, I find myself slowing to prioritize my amusement while I screw my eyes shut.

I was soon very clear that it was a poor choice.

All at once, there was a loud snapping sound. The moment I opened my eyes, I behold a broken bracelet and a bent spear. Oh, yeah, and he unamused Dream of the Endless that was now slowly sitting up in front of me.

I release a final chuckle.

My sounds go dry as his hands take my hips and he brings his face closer to me, "I do not appreciate the fact you're so easily distracted while making love to me, my dear."

I grunt when he bucks into me. My arms wrap around his shoulders as my voice hikes up with his movements. I wrap my legs around his torso as I mumble halfheartedly, "we're not making love, we're... we're fucking."

He groans at that, moving in to kiss me feverously. I whine when his fingers rub at my core. Dream pulls away, forehead resting on mine, "you mock me so readily."

"Yeah," I huff, "well you deserve-"

I choke on my next words as I plummet back into my bed where Dream takes the reins fully, rocking into at a tempo that pleased him, and, well, me.

I mindlessly call his name, legs and arms wrapping around him as he moderately fucks into me. My bed creaks at his force.

It doesn't take long for him to speed up.

I whine and screw my eyes shut.

"Is this a good pace? Am I pleasing you?" he mutters against my neck.

I open at the sound of his words. He did not speak with the same taunting tone I had. He asks me this in genuine inquiry, genuinely intent on finding out if he was, in fact, pleasing me.

I pepper his jaw with kisses then nibble on his earlobe before replying, "yes, my sweet boy," I moan, "you can move a little faster if you want to."

"I want to," he quickly responds.

I sigh, "then faster, baby."

He moans and kisses me in response. His movements rip out a deep cry from deep within me as he hastens.

"That's it," I struggle, one hand digging into his unruly hair, pulling at it, "you're doing so good for me. So good."

The king growls against me, sucking at my neck, just below my jaw.

"Fuck," I sigh, "dulcis somnium meum."

My sweet dream.

He adjusts me beneath him, hands coming to thighs, squeezing the area as he presses deeper, "you feel so good around me."

My toes curl at his words and my skin breaks out in goosebumps at his hot breath.

"Pretiosum venatorem," Dream dictates 'my precious hunter,' sucking on the base of my throat, "such beautiful sounds."

My breath quickens with his actions. I roll my head back as my fingers dig into his spine.

"Dic quomodo sentio," he breathes against me, "quaeso."

Tell me how I make you feel... please.

"Good," I whimper, "great," I whine, "et stupri magna." So fucking great.

"Beautiful," he retorts, "so beautiful like this, so beautiful beneath me."

I feel myself coil up around him. He seems to feel it too, since his one hand leaves my thigh to rub at my pulsing heat.

He muses to me in Latin. He speaks poetry to me in my native tongue, praising my lips, my breath, my warmth, and how I was taking him so well.

I return his poetry with deep grunts and age old curses that would make the Roman deities shun me in sore displeasure.

And yet Somnia kisses me, practically eating up my vile words like honey and delivers me into pure adoration, pure fucking ecstasy.

I yelp when I break beneath him. I whine and rip at him, teeth digging into his shoulder, legs constricting around him tighter. The sensation is further intensified when I feel him release into me, pace now maddeningly fast, brutal, and delicious.

"Yes, Dream!" I call, helplessly spiraling under him. "Praise to the Dream Lord," I find myself whining in Latin as I ride out my high and quiver out all the breath that's left in my lungs.

He moans, kissing my cheek, replying in the same language, "I accept you adoration." He takes a moment before dragging out my name from his lips. It makes my stomach roll even further and my body tense tighter.

The Dream Lord takes my thighs into his hands again as he rides the both of us through our peaks, brutal yet caring all at once.

I melt into a bag of boneless flesh the next moment.

When he eventually relents, I catch my breath against his jaw, rubbing my nose on his skin affectionally.

Once he is stagnant above me, he turns to me and places kiss on my lips. After a moment, he pulls away and opens his mouth to speak. He doesn't get to however, as suddenly my bed creaks and all at once, one leg snaps and I squeal as we both slide roughly down to the floor.

I cling onto him for dear life as he pushes up against me, both keeping us from falling any further and poking into the root of my womanhood. My mouth releases a lewd cry in response.

I catch my breath as he lifts his head up and surveys the damage.

"Did you," I pant, "fucking break my bed?"

Dream turns to me, lips barely parting, "I..." he starts, "my apologies."

[tyanis]

I know I don’t really interact with this blog a whole lot, but thank you for doing the polls that you do. It’s one of the few community spaces here that truly feels like something EVERYBODY can join in on- you’ve fostered an extremely loving and safe space for a lot of people to be silly and enjoy resident evil and get excited when their faves win and subsequently devastated when they loose BCNEHENDJSMSK genuinely i Hope your mental health and the rest of your year in general gets infinitely better, and just once again, thank you for making these pills. A H U N D R E D is a MASSIVE achievement and you should be proud of yourself!!!!

I really truley appreciate your words and I'm so glad people felt safe here and it made me so happy to see the community being so civil with one another in this space. I've been in the Resident Evil fandom since the late 90s and have seen this fandom at its absolute worst. Even now, there are people that do some pretty horrific shit to others in the community... all because they prefer a different ship or character or whatever. It's all such a waste. Real life is already full of unrelenting pain, people should be allowed to just... enjoy the things that make them happy.

It's so much more rewarding to focus on creating something you love than tearing down what you hate. I wish more of you felt safe in community spaces and I wish I had the ability to keep this going forever. Everyone should be allowed to be silly and enjoy themselves openly without worrying about terrible repercussions from others. There's always going to be petty fandom drama, I know that, but we as a community really need to reign that shit it as it is stupidly out of hand.

Sometimes people just like different things. Not the end of the damn world. Ignore it, move on, create something for what YOU like.

I know this might have turned into a disjointed rant and I apologize for that... it's just been on my mind a lot lately.

Again thank you for the kind words, I really needed it today. I know I probably sound bitter right now, and I am, but knowing that people appreciate my silly polls... it helps.

[myherowritings]

Maybe It’s Fate

— After discovering the mememate you fell in love with was your ex-boyfriend who broke your heart, you find yourself alone in a bar with a dead phone in a poor attempt to cope. The person who helps you at 3 a.m. is the last person you want to see.

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x f!reader word count: 10,531 genre: modern au, social media au

a/n: hihi welcome to part 25 of toya ! ;) the smau is rated 17+ so keep that in mind because it applies to this part too. it’s a bit thicc so i hope it’s able to keep your attention! skksffsd plspls chat with me and let me know what u think once u read! i’m looking forward to the convos ^-^ [edit: THIS IS NOT THE FINAL PART LOLOL]

Of all the dumb decisions you’ve made in your life, this by far had to be the dumbest of them all.

You were angry and hurt and wanted nothing more than to drown your feelings with overplayed EDM music and cheap booze that reminded you too much of the trash college parties you used to frequent. And while going out to get drunk was no where near your stupidest decision, going out alone with the full intention of returning home with someone else was. 

“Is everything okay?” you heard an unfamiliar voice beside you call.

Wishing you had brought more than an empty can of pepper spray, you cautiously turned to face him. You wanted to call a cab or take the train home, but you knew walking alone in the streets in your current condition might just be more stupid than staying at the club. Besides, your phone died right after you sent Kaminari your location. 

In other words-- You were truly fucked.

Not that you would let anyone know that, of course.

“Everything’s just fine,” you replied, trying to sound polite but disinterested. “Thanks.” 

He kept his distance but sat down at the barstool next to you. “Are you sure? You’re a pretty lady alone at the bar and you’re staring at your drink like it just insulted your favorite grandmother.” 

Immediately, the tears of stress and frustration flooded your eyes but you kept them from falling. Your bottom lip quivered and you blamed all the alcohol in your system for your seemingly uncontrollable emotions.

 “Am I that transparent?” You sniffled, downing the rest of your drink as you turned towards him.

“Ah-- Wait!” he cried with wide eyes, waving his hands in front of him as you chugged what was in your glass. “Are you sure you should keep drinking? Where are your friends?”

You studied him curiously. He seemed nice and trustworthy, but you couldn’t help but be skeptical of his intentions.

“They’re...around,” you answered, unwilling to admit you were here alone to a random stranger. “And I’m okay! Just here hating men, but what’s new?” 

He nodded solemnly. “Understandable. Men suck. Carry on.”

That earned a grin from you.

As the last gulp of vodka settled in your stomach and made its way to your head, you instinctively checked your phone in your pocket only to find it still dead. 

Damn. And here you were hoping it would’ve miraculously charged through sheer willpower. 

Drumming your fingertips against the empty glass, you let your gaze roam around the perimeter of the nightclub, blinking furiously in confusion when you thought you had spotted a head of all-too-familiar purple hair near the entrance.

“What the…” you trailed off. You could have sworn you just saw Shinsou, but the next second you opened your eyes, he was gone.

Great, you thought to yourself miserably. First he snuck his way into your heart and now you were imagining his presence too? 

“You’re really had too much to drink, haven’t you, Y/N?” you chided yourself, head spinning as you instantly regretted the last few gulps.

The guy next to you glanced over in concern, drinking a glass of what you assumed to be respect women juice. 

“Can I order you some water?” he fretted. “Or maybe a cab?” 

You shook your head to decline but stopped abruptly when your temples started to throb at the sudden motion. 

“S’okay,” you slurred. “I just thought I saw--” 

“Y/N!” 

You froze in your seat.

That voice… It was faint and almost like it wasn’t real, but you knew that voice. 

There was no way. 

“Good grief, I’m losing it now, huh?” you asked your bar acquaintance with furrowed brows. 

He shrugged, not knowing how to reply.

“Y/N, thank god,” the voice said frantically, sounding closer this time. “You’re safe!”

Ever so slowly, you turned around in your seat, eyes squeezed shut.

Even hearing his voice amidst the blaring of music was enough to make your heart twist in pain. It was the same deep timbre you remembered from high school and you haven’t heard it since then. You hated just how much you had missed the familiar sound. It was like a hug of comfort telling you everything was okay and a stab in the gut all at once.

“Y/N,” he said again, almost a whisper this time.

You finally found the courage to open your eyes, but refused to meet his gaze. Instead, you developed a deep interest in the laces of his shoes, reluctant to look up. 

“Shinsou…” The name left a bitter taste on your tongue and you wished you had another drink to wash it down with. Your voice hardened. “What are you doing here?” 

He winced at your harsh tone but stood unrelenting. “Your friends are worried sick about you. Kaminari was so concerned he even messaged me-- Something I imagine he never wanted to do.”

Your lower lip jutted out in guilt as your stare stayed set on the intricacies of the tiled flooring. 

“Why have you not checked your phone?” asked Shinsou in exasperation. “Kaminari was trying to tell you I was going to pick you up.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “My phone died after I sent Denki my location.”

“Died? Did you not charge it before you left? Y/N how could you be so irresponsible--!” 

“Is everything okay here?” your unnamed acquaintance said from his seat on the bar. He glanced carefully between you and Hitoshi. 

You nodded, sparing him a wry smile. “I’m fine. Thank you, though.” 

Shinsou bit the inside of his cheek as he eyed the stranger who sat next to you. “Who’s this?” 

“None of your damn business.” 

Annoyed by Shinsou’s chiding, you bristled when he frowned at you. He had no right to sound concerned or jealous-- No right to pretend he cared!

Not when he did what he did.

“I know I was being stupid and I’ll call my friends when I get home,” you said, not bothering to hide your irritation. “But you can’t just come here and talk to me like everything is normal! Why are you even here?” 

Pushing yourself out of your chair, you stood up and finally looked Hitoshi in the eye, glaring at him. You wobbled on your own two feet and felt the goosebumps on your bare thighs and arms, briefly wishing you had brought a coat with you.

Great, another thing Toshi can call you irresponsible for, you thought crossly, a mixture of hurt and anger in your face as you stared up at him. 

“Why are you here?” you repeated as you paced away from the bar--turning back only to give your bar friend a wave goodbye that he returned with a confused look. You headed for the exist of the nightclub as briskly as your legs could carry you in your uncomfortable heels. “How did you know where to find me?” 

Shinsou trailed not too far behind you and you begrudgingly admitted to yourself that you felt a warmth near your back from his presence. “Kaminari told me you were alone at a nightclub and this one happened to be only ten minutes from my house.”

You pouted. Small fucking world. Fate must’ve been getting a kick out of this.

“Your friends were worried-- So was I.” You rolled your eyes, but he continued. “And since I was the closest to this place I offered to pick you up.”

Reaching the side doors, you stopped by the stone wall of the building and squinted at him. “You offered and they just let you?”

That did not sound like the friends you knew. You were expecting a full Shinsou beat down from Bakugou alone. 

Hitoshi scratched the back of his neck and, in your tipsy stupor, you felt comforted by the familiar habit of his. You swallowed, balling your hands into fists to snap your mind out of it.

It shouldn’t matter how many memories of the past were flooding you-- You were mad at him for lying and you had every right to be.

“Maybe offered is too loose of a word,” he admitted after a moment’s silence, having the decency to appear sheepish. “But we were worried and I knew I could get to you in half the time any of your friends could.”

Sure, it was a logical reason. But that didn’t mean you had to like it. “I would rather have waited double the time if that meant I didn’t have to see you again.” 

You stared Hitoshi straight in the eyes as you said that as you tried to ignore the trembling of your lower lip. He flinched at the words, looking hurt. But another part of him looked like he accepted it. 

“I know I’m the last person you want to see right now--”

“Mhmm,” you hummed just to be petty.

“--but we had no way of knowing if you were safe. Especially when you stopped replying to anyone! This was the quickest way.” 

Folding your arms across your chest you stubbornly held his gaze. “Well, I’m safe. So you can leave now.” 

Shinsou pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Please. I know you hate me and you have every right to--”

“I don’t hate you,” you muttered under your breath. As much as you wish you did, you don’t think you could ever really hate him.

He blinked slowly and you could have sworn you saw a shimmer of hope in his expression. You tore your gaze away, studying the small fissures and cracks on the otherwise smooth pavement. 

“Oh,” he breathed almost imperceptibly. “Thank you.” 

You pretended not to hear him.

“Regardless of whether you hate me or not, I know you don’t want to see me--and I apologize for showing up so suddenly--but will you please let me bring you home safely?” Hitoshi pleaded. “Or to your friend’s house if you don’t want to be alone.”

With your lips squeezed shut, you rubbed the goosebumps off your upper arm. It was cold and your head was spinning and you had no clue what to say to him. 

Silently, Shinsou took off his outer coat and gently draped it over your shoulders, fastening the top button near the collar so it wouldn’t fall off your frame. You looked at him in surprise, unshed tears stinging the back of your eyes as you recalled all the times he’d given you his jacket while you were dating.

There were more times that you cared to admit where you conveniently “forgot” your jacket or wore too little layers on a cold day just so Hitoshi could give you his and you’d be enveloped in his scent.

And that’s exactly what was happening now. Shinsou’s coat surrounded your body like a warm hug and your nose was filled with a scent exactly like the one you remembered from when you were dating. He smelled like a sweet sandalwood with a mixture of fresh jasmine. He smelled like a field of flowers you’d find after a long trek through a woodsy forest. He smelled like home.

But he wasn’t.

In actuality, you haven’t been this close to Shinsou since your break up.

It had been years since you had seen him or talked to him or even been close enough to catch a trace of his scent. And now he was flooding every one of your senses with no care of the repercussions.

Your head was light.

You missed him. You cared for him. You never stopped loving him.

And now old wounds that never fully healed had been ripped open all at once.

“You were shivering,” Hitoshi stated quietly. “So I gave you my--”

He stopped short when he heard a sniffle coming from your direction, eyes growing wide as your buried your face in the palms of your shaking hands.

Through the cracks between your fingers, you saw Shinsou reach out to cup your face, stopping himself before he could touch you and withdrawing as if he had been burned. As stupid as it was, you wanted nothing more than to feel his touch against your skin and you found yourself involuntarily taking a half-step closer to him.

Your silent tears feel even faster. 

“Are you crying?”

Despite the droplets of water blurring your eyes, you managed to glare up at him for his dumb question. 

He grimaced. “Sorry. I’m...sorry.” 

Although you were the one crying, you still noticed the pained look on Shinsou’s face. He seemed just as conflicted as you were, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands so hard his knuckles appeared white. 

When he opened his mouth to speak his voice sounded choked, but still gentle. “Are you okay, Y/N?” 

“Just peachy,” you murmured, barely moving your lips. The two of you stood there in awkward silence, nothing but the sounds of your labored breaths filling the air until you blurted, “Actually, you know what--? No. I’m not!”

Shinsou opened his mouth to speak but no noise came out. That was just fine by you, though. You had plenty of things you wanted to say, regardless of his response.

“I’m angry at you! And confused. And sad. And hurt! I don’t know if I want to yell at you or ignore you or run right back into your arms--” Your voice cracked and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to slow your sharp breathing. 

You hugged yourself around your waist, painfully aware of how comforting his jacket felt around your body. A part of you wished you could just tear the coat off your shoulders, throw it onto a puddle on the floor, give Shinsou the middle finger, and turn away without looking back.

But you couldn’t. 

Instead, you let your tears continue to fall as you glowered at Hitoshi’s shoes. 

“I am so mad at you,” you managed, hands clutching the fabric at your sides. “You lied to me, Hitoshi. You lied to me and you didn’t trust me and you left!” 

The hurt from your past which you never wanted to accept mixed with anger from the present, both fueling your surge in emotions.

“And now you’re here--in front of me--acting like everything is okay?!” you shouted in exasperation. Your face was burning despite the chilling breeze outside. “Do you even care about me? Have you ever even cared about me?” 

He gritted his teeth, hurt that you would even ask that. “Of course. Of course I care about you, Y/N! Even through all these years I’ve never stopped caring about you.”

“Funny way of showing it.” 

His laugh was humorless. “I’m a fuck up. I know.” 

Your gaze softened just the slightest bit. “Hey-- I didn’t say that.” 

Shinsou shrugged. “Regardless, I did fuck up with you. And I’m so sorry for that.” 

“For which time?” By now, the tears flowing out of your eyes slowed, the remnants dried by the biting wind. You gave him a wry smile, unamused. 

“Both times,” he answered without hesitation. “I hurt you when I broke up with you for no damn reason and I lied when I told you I didn’t love you. That was the biggest lie of my life-- I still loved you. So much. But I jumped to conclusions and didn’t give you the change to explain. I owe you so much more than an apology but it’s the least I can give you right now.” 

You rolled your lower lip between your teeth, hating yourself for wanting to accept his apology and jump into his arms. He gave no excuses for what he did and his words were genuine. That much you knew for certain.

Slowly, he inched towards you. 

“I really am sorry, Y/N.” He paused. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

You stayed silent, holding your breath as the pad of his thumb brushed against your damp cheek. Shinsou wiped away your flood of tears with a touch so gentle, it felt like a feather on your face.

His thumb lingered on your cheekbone, his fingertips lightly grazing your jaw, and you found yourself ever so slightly leaning into his palm. The tension in your muscles loosened and if you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend you were back with the Shinsou you loved in high school-- As if he never left and nothing had ever changed. 

Just for a moment, you tricked yourself into being truly happy. You tricked yourself into thinking that maybe you and Hitoshi could still be in love. 

You wanted to capture this second and replay it on an infinite loop, but just like all moments, this too had to come to an end. 

As you opened your eyes, Hitoshi reluctantly brought his hand back to his side.

“Sorry,” he said, voice hoarse. “You were crying and I just wanted to--” He shook his head, cutting himself off before his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.” 

It sounded like his apology was meant for more than just wiping some tears off your face. 

You nodded almost imperceptibly, the anger in your gaze diffused by hurt and longing. “I know.”

As the minutes passed, neither one of you made a move to step away from the other-- Your bodies mere inches apart and so close, yet never quite touching.

Suddenly, Hitoshi cleared his throat.

“Er-- If you’ll let me, I think I should bring you home now,” he said, forcibly shaking himself out of his daze and pulling his phone out. “It’s almost four in the morning.” 

Blinking, you rubbed your eyes. Not that he mentioned the time, you realized just how tired you were. You wanted to take a bubble bath, change into fluffy pajamas, and sleep until the following night. 

“Do you have to go to your flower shop tomorrow?”  

“Hmm?” You were startled. You had almost forgotten that the man in front of you was the same person you considered your “mememate.” As much as you hated to admit it, he probably knew more about you than some of your closest friends. 

Biting your lip, you snapped yourself out of it.

“Oh-- Right. My flower shop.” 

He nodded.

“No, I don’t have work tomorrow,” you answered finally. “I may not have made the smartest decisions tonight, but I’m not that irresponsible.” 

A shadow of a smile graced his face. “Of course not.” 

Fishing his keys from his pocket, Shinsou walked to the parking lot of the nightclub, looking over his shoulder to check if you were following.

When his gaze met yours you immediately stuck your tongue out at him haughtily so he knew you were only following him as a last resort and you needed to get home-- Not because you wanted to. 

You caught a glimpse of his grin before he turned around, and you managed to stop yourself before one spread to your lips as well. 

Stopping at a black car with tinted windows, Hitoshi unlocked it with his keys, opening the door of the passenger seat and waiting for you to safely enter. 

“I can open a door myself,” you murmured, sliding into the seat securely before he gently shut it close. 

“I know,” you heard his amused voice call through the window.

It felt like there was one, singular butterfly fluttering around in your stomach and causing mayhem, and you batted it away before Hitoshi could come in and see the grin on your face. 

“Did I just see you just hit yourself in the gut?” he asked when he entered through the driver’s side. 

“No.” 

“Okay.”

Subtly, you rubbed your tummy in a soft, circular motion. You hadn’t meant to punch the butterfly that hard. 

“Didn’t hit yourself, huh?” 

You flushed. “Oh, hush.” 

With a snort, Hitoshi turned the engine of his car on and you let your eyes explore the interior. It was sleek and clean, smelling like a mixture of sandalwood and new car. 

Reaching behind the gear level, he pulled out a white cord and handed it to you. You stared at the object in his hands.

“For you,” he said, with a raised brow. “You should charge your phone and let your friends know you’re on your way home.” 

Wordlessly, you accepted it from him. Careful not to let your fingers brush against his in fear of the spark it might cause.

“I messaged Kaminari earlier to let him know you were safe. But he probably wants to hear it from you.”

You nodded as you plugged your dead phone in. “Thanks.” 

He hummed, putting the car on drive and backing out of the parking spot, stopping before he reached the main street. 

“Do you know how to get home from here?” he asked. As you shook your head, Hitoshi handed you his fully charged phone that was opened on the navigation app. “You can search for your address.”

“Got it.” The air between you was almost suffocatingly awkward as you typed in where you lived, each click of the keyboard ringing into the stillness of the night. After finding turning the directions on, you handed the phone back to him. “Thanks.”

Shaking his head, he waved you off. “You don’t need to keep thanking me, Y/N. This is the least I could do.”

Averting your gaze, you twiddled your thumbs in your lap, unsure what to say. You had so much you wanted to tell him--so much you wanted to ask--but when it came to it, you froze. 

Just then, your phone made a sound from its spot near the gear shift, buzzing and lighting up as it finally turned on. A plethora of notifications filled your screen and you found yourself feeling guilty for making your friends worry like that.

Five missed calls for Kaminari, three missed calls from Todoroki, and nine missed calls from Bakugou. You gulped. You were definitely going to get your ears talked off by those three once they got a hold of you. 

But amidst the calls and texts of worry from your friends, you also noticed a handful of messages from Hitoshi. He sent you texts asking if you were okay and telling you not to worry because he was on his way to get you. There was a lump in your throat when he saw the messages were still from your mememate-- You never did get around to changing his contact name.

From the corner of your eye you saw Hitoshi glancing down at your phone screen, a look of regret apparent on his face. When he caught you staring, he directed his attention back on the road, clearing his throat as he followed the directions on the navigation system.

To think only a week ago, things were so different between the two of you. 

You thought he was a random stranger you connected with through the power of memes, never having a clue that he was your ex this whole time. You found yourself opening up and sharing your private feelings with him despite the promise you made yourself to always guard your heart. 

Even anonymously, Hitoshi climbed over your walls and found his way to the inner workings of your life. Even anonymously, he made everything feel like it was okay. 

But a part of you was scared--so scared--that it was all in your head and he was only playing you this whole time. And at this point, you were just too afraid to ask.

“Are you crying again?”

“What?!” you yelped in alarm, wiping at your slightly damp face with the sleeves of his coat. “No, you asshole!” You glared at him, a few loose tears still gathered by the corners of your eyes. You refused to let them fall through the use of sheer willpower. “The air conditioning is just blasting into my eyes.”

“The air conditioner is off.”

You blinked. “Well that makes sense. It’s so hot in here I’m just sweating through my eyes.” 

He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “Right.”

The lighthearted mood didn’t last very long, however, when your phone buzzed once more and the notifications from earlier tonight appeared on your lockscreen. 

“I really made everyone worry, huh?” You sighed, leaning back against the headrest and shutting your eyes, the effects of the alcohol long since worn off. “I can’t believe I did something like this.” 

He signaled a left turn and waited until he was at the red light before continuing. “I’m sorry for causing this.” 

You stared at him in confusion. “What do you mean? Causing this?”

“Yeah. If I had just told you who I was the moment I found out, this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have been scared and alone at a random nightclub and your friends wouldn’t have been in near panic for hours. Hell-- If I hadn’t run away like that all those years ago none of this would have happened.” His fingers tightened around the steering wheel so hard it left indents on the leather. “You wouldn’t have felt all the pain and heartbreak and--”

His voice grew hoarse as it broke off, as if something was tightening around his throat. Holding your breath, you gazed at him in concern.

You were angry at Hitoshi and thought he had a lot of explaining to do-- Sure. But...for him to blame himself for everything that happened? That was more weight than anyone should bear on their own. 

Surprising both him and yourself, you firmly placed your hand on top of his as he gripped the steering wheel. His hands were cold and rough from the wind, and you were certain yours weren’t much better. But still, you held him. And still, it felt right. 

“Not everything is your fault, Toshi,” you said quietly, his old nickname slipping out of your mouth before you could stop it, like it was natural for you to call him that.

His eyes widened and a flush filled your cheeks. 

You coughed to relieve the tension in your neck. “I just mean… You don’t need to blame yourself for everything. You messed up and there’s no denying that, but this isn’t all your fault. I mean it.” 

Your eyes met before he tore his gaze away to focus on driving. Quickly, you retracted your hand from on top of Shinsou’s, cradling it against your stomach as you felt the burn from his skin linger on yours.

“Thank you.” His voice was solemn and grateful, as if he needed to hear those words at least once in his life. “You’re too caring, you know? Your heart is too good.” 

You let out a breath of laughter, brushing his compliment off. “Yours is too. It’s just been through some shit. And maybe didn’t make the best decisions.”

“It most definitely didn’t.”

Though neither of you were looking at each other, there was a shared sense of happiness between the two of you--regardless of how brief it may have been. There was a small smile playing on your face as you bit your lip to keep it from growing wider. 

You hadn’t fully forgiven Hitoshi, he still had some explaining to do, but you felt a sense of calmness when you realized that maybe forgiveness would be possible.

Before you knew it, you heard the navigator say, “Your destination is on the right,” as Hitoshi pulled up at the curb in front of your building.

“We’re here,” he announced slowly, one hand on the gear level as if he wasn’t sure what to do next. 

There was an awkward silence as you unplugged your phone from his car charger. It wasn’t that you wanted to spend more time with him exactly (that was definitely not the case), but rather you had more questions to ask. And what better time to figure out those questions than at four in the morning? 

“You’ve been driving for a while…” you trailed off, hoping he caught the hint without too much embarrassment on your part. “Do you want to use the restroom before you drive back home?”

Hitoshi scratched the back of his neck. “No, I’m good. I wasn’t out for that long.”

“O-Oh,” you stuttered, a sudden feeling of nerves settling in your stomach. Not those damned butterflies again. “Well, how about… Maybe you want a glass of water or a cup of tea?” 

He gave you a curious look but set his car to park and turned off the engine nonetheless. “Sure…? Some water would be nice.”

You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding, pulling your keys out of your pocket and unbuckling your seatbelt. Before you could open the car door for yourself, Hitoshi was already on the passenger’s side ready to open it for you. 

“I know how to open a door,” you muttered with a roll of your eye, but felt a faint flush litter your cheeks nonetheless. You hopped out of your seat, accepting the hand he offered to stead you. “But...thank you.” 

“No worries.” 

For someone you were still mad at, he was making it damn hard for you to stay petty. 

Despite the light throbbing in your head, both from drinking too much alcohol and from staying up too late, you were able to lead him inside your living room with no complications--only struggling with unlocking the door just a little. 

“Welcome to my house,” you said, flapping your arms around and fidgeting in place. You slid off your shoes and placed them at the doorway and Hitoshi followed suit. “You can, uh, sit on the couch while I get you water. Or you can follow me into the kitchen…?”

Your eyes scanned the floors and furniture of your apartment. You liked maintaining your living space clean and clutter-free, so it wasn’t too much of a mess. Still, you weren’t expecting any guests and it wasn’t as nice as it could have been…

You shook your head, giving your face a light slap when you thought no one was looking. You shouldn’t be bothered. It was just Hitoshi here. Someone you most definitely no longer cared about. 

Or so you kept telling yourself.

He followed behind you, grabbing at his neck and glancing between your walls and you, unsure what to look at in this new environment. After all, it wasn’t everyday you picked up your ex that you haven’t seen for four years at a bar only to be invited into their house.

“I can go with you to the kitchen,” he answered with uncertainty.

“G-Great!” 

You grimaced. When did you become Tony the Tiger all of a sudden? 

As you grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, you filled them up with ice and water, setting one next to Shinsou on the countertop. 

He accepted it. “Thank you.” 

You nodded and there was an awkward silence, both of you taking long sips from your glass, not knowing where to go from here. You knew you wanted to talk to him, but what were you going to ask exactly? What was the right way to go about this situation?

Next to you, Hitoshi looked like he was having some inner struggles of his own. His fingers flexed and unflexed around the cool glass, both avoiding your gaze and looking at you at the same time.

Biting your lip, you turned to look at him. As uncomfortable as it was, there was no better time to ask than now.

“Can we talk--?”

“We should talk--”

You both started and stopped at the same time.

There was a beat of elongated silence before the two of you laughed. Shaking your head, you buried your face in your hands, peering at him between your fingers. 

“This is silly,” you cried in embarrassment. “Why are we so awkward?” 

Hitoshi shrugged as a flustered laugh escaped his own lips. “Because this is weird. This is a strange situation we’re in and no one would ever expect something like this to happen.”

“Exactly!” 

“But,” he continued, almost hesitantly, “I’m kind of glad it did, though.” 

Your own laughter quieted down as the mood became more serious. You drank another gulp of water to quench your suddenly parched throat. 

“Can we talk in the living room?” you asked, heading towards the hallway when Hitoshi nodded. You figured if you were going to have an uncomfortable conversation, you may as well try to find some comfort in your warm and plush sofa.

You sat down at the edge near the armrest and he took a seat not too far from you. There was less than a cushion space separating the two of you and if you were to move a few inches, your thighs would be touching. 

Tearing your gaze away from your legs, you looked up to face Hitoshi. “You don’t have to answer, but… There have been some questions on my mind lately.” 

He nodded, as if expecting you to say that. “Ask away. It’s the least I could do.”

You curled your legs and hugged your knees to your chest, peering at him through your lashes. 

“Okay,” you said somewhat unsurely. Confrontation was never easy. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew who I was? How long were you planning on keeping it from me?”

Hitoshi ran a hand through his hair, tufts of purple sticking out in random patterns. Somehow, it suited him.

“I found out a day or so before you confessed to liking...your mememate,” he admitted. He had told you this through text when you asked, but hearing it a second time didn’t make it hurt any less. “I was going to tell you that day, too. But then you told me you liked me and I didn’t know how to break it to you then.”

You looked away, embarrassed at the reminder of the night you poured your heart out to him. He knew you were his ex the whole time and still didn’t stop you? You scoffed, “Well, you could’ve stopped me before I humiliated myself like that.”

“Humiliate-- How?”

“What do you mean how?” You glared. “I totally embarrassed myself that night by saying how much I liked you--my ex!--only to have you basically reject me on the spot!” 

“I didn’t reject you.”

“I told you that you were the first person I liked since...well you,” you said, rubbing your temples to ease your own confusion. “And you never said it back. Not that you needed to. It’s totally fine that you don’t. It’s just that… I don’t even know. I just wish I never said anything.”

He placed the glass he was holding onto a coaster on your coffee table, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” said Hitoshi. “But that’s not it at all. I wasn’t trying to reject you. I would’ve told you I liked you back-- I wanted to, I swear.” 

Your head snapped to his. He wanted to tell you? As in he started liking you too? Even when he didn’t know who you were?

With a wistful smile, he continued, “But it wasn’t fair to you. Not when I knew who you were and you didn’t know who I was. You didn’t deserve that bullshit.” 

You stretched your legs out so they were dangling off the couch, folding one carefully over the other as you crossed your arms. “Then you should’ve just told me the truth about who you were.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He hung his head. “And if I did, you never would’ve told me your feelings.”

“Exactly,” you huffed. “They’d be safe and locked away in my heart until they disappeared.” 

He was silent as you turned his body towards yours, resting his arm on the back cushions of the sofa.

“Is that really what you want, though?” he asked. “You’re so kind and beautiful and you deserve to open your heart to someone and be happy with them.” A flush rose to your cheeks at his sudden words of kindness but you shook it away. “I never knew I hurt you so badly that you were scared to love again-- And I’ll hate myself everyday for that.” 

“Hitoshi…” Your gaze softened. You wanted to reach out and smooth down his hair but you couldn’t. 

He hurt you, yes. But to hate himself and never forgive himself for it? You thought that was far too extreme. 

“When you broke up with me,” you started slowly, unsure how to go about this, “you said that our relationship was nothing more than some cheap dates and sex.” He winced, holding his stomach as if he felt nauseous. “If you’re so regretful now, why did you ever say something like that? Did I really mean nothing to you?” 

“No-- Of course you meant something to me. Y/N, you were everything to me. And it’s ridiculous of me to say this now but I never wanted to hurt you like that,” Hitoshi said, his eyes squeezed shut. “But I did and I’m so sorry. I thought if I told you those mean things you would find it easier to just hate me and move on. Be with Kaminari or someone who could make you happy.” 

You glared at him with both sadness and anger, nails digging into your palms. “I was happy. With you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“A little.”

Taken aback, you stared at him. You weren’t sure what response you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. 

“But not because of anything you did,” he rushed before you could get the wrong idea. “I just thought you were a good person who truly deserved something better than what I could give. You should be with someone who wasn’t anxious and insecure and messed up.” 

You were unsure if you wanted to smack Hitoshi or give him a hug, so you sat there stock-still.

“Even when I saw you with Kaminari, a part of me thought it would be better off that way,” he admitted, a scornful look on his face as he scoffed at himself. “But that wasn’t my call to make, was it? And how I went about it was wrong and dishonest. I’m really sorry.” 

He tugged at a loose thread on the sofa while staring at you in earnest. There were so many things to say and not enough time in the night to say it. 

“You’re right. It wasn’t your call,” you said, furrowing your brows. “I wish you would’ve told me you were feeling this way all those years ago. I loved you--regardless of what you may have thought. And what you said really hurt me.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I fucked up and hurt you more deeply than I could’ve ever imagined. You felt like you couldn’t have feelings for anyone for all those years because of what I did, and if I could take it all back, I would.” 

His hand trembled slightly as he reached out to cup your face, pulling away harshly before he could touch you. 

“You deserve to find love, Y/N. Even if it’s not with me because I know I have no right to anyone’s heart after what I did--”

“Hey, don’t say that!” you interrupted, a wrinkle forming as you scrunched up your nose. You frowned at him. “You deserve to find love again, too. You may have messed up a few times, and I’m not going to pretend like I wasn’t hurt, but I still care about you. A lot. And just because you made some really bad decisions doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to ever be happy.” 

He looked down at his lap, hands curled into fists by his side. You had the sinking suspicion he didn’t believe you.

Swallowing your pride, you inched closer to him, lightly lifting his chin so he stared at you face-to-face. The dark purple of his eyes stormed as a conflicted expression overcame him and you wanted to run a finger over his brow and brush the insecurities away.

Quietly, you whispered, “You’re so worthy of love, Hitoshi. And it makes me so sad that you still haven’t realized it.” 

You felt a piece of your heart chip as he pulled away from you, gritting his teeth as he hung his head. When he spoke, his voice sounded choked, as if he was holding back tears.

“You’ve shown me too much kindness,” he said, words shakey. “Even after I assumed you cheated and broke up with you in the cruelest way possible--” 

His voice cracked and he couldn’t speak. With his gaze avoiding yours he pushed himself off the couch.

“God, I’m sorry,” Hitoshi muttered, his face a look of self-disdain. “I shouldn’t even be here in your life right now. I should just--”

Your hand grabbed the one he used to shove himself off your sofa, holding his fingers tight in between yours. With your head bowed, you called, “Don’t leave again. Not yet.”

He froze in his spot, one leg immobile in front of the other in the direction of the door. Desperately, you tugged at his arm so he looked back at you. Your eyes pleaded with him. This wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be the end until you received your closure and Hitoshi received his. 

“You know that night we played Truth or Drink?” you asked, breaking the silence. 

He stared back at you curiously, slowly sitting down as you patted the seat next to you. Cautiously, he nodded in response.

That night was a pivotal time in bonding with your mememate and it was the closest you had felt with anyone besides your best friends.

Continuing, you said, “You told me about your dad cheating on your mom. And then seeing me and Denki the next day after I lied about who I was with.” 

There was no accusatory tone in your voice, and you stated it as if you were recalling the facts. But still, Hitoshi winced. 

“Yeah, shit.” He placed his palm over his forehead, rubbing at his temple as he grimaced. “I really just jumped to conclusions like that and it was unfair to you. I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t reply to his apology, but gave him a small smile. “That night, I told you I thought your response was understandable. It made sense that you were mistrustful at the time. Especially after just finding out about your parents-- People I know you looked up to. Even in regards to love.” 

Hitoshi wore a guarded expression, but still listened keenly to what you had to say. 

“Toshi… My opinion on that doesn’t change just because I now know it was me you were talking about.” 

“Y/N--”

“Don’t get me wrong,” you clarified, not wanting to sound too lenient. “I’m still hurt that you couldn’t trust me. I wish you confronted me so we could’ve cleared up the misunderstanding. I wish you hadn’t stood me up on our anniversary date. But most importantly… I wish I could have been there for you when you found out about your parents.” 

Hitoshi sat there in silence, mouth opening but unable to form the sentences he wanted. 

You gave him a look of regret, one hand still not letting go of his even as he stayed seated beside you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”

“It’s not your fault. At all.”

As you shook your head, he faltered. “Still, you went to America, alone, and never told anyone what was wrong. You kept all these feelings to yourself this whole time and I hate that so much.” 

“I didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. I don’t deserve to--”

Your fingers twitched. How many times was he going to beat himself while he was already down? 

“Stop saying that!” you snapped, unable to contain your emotions. “You are not a burden. And you deserve so much more than you think you do.” 

His eyes widened at your outburst and his lips parted slightly. 

“It’s good you know what you did was wrong-- You can’t pretend lying and making assumptions was okay because it’s not. But you know it’s not! And you acknowledge that and it seems like you regret it.” Your voice took on a desperate tone as you tried to get Hitoshi to see his mistakes as something separate from his worth as a whole. “You’ve made mistakes, but you can grow from them. Fucking up doesn’t mean you’re undeserving of love and happiness. You don’t have to take all the blame onto yourself.” 

“How can I not take the blame?” he asked, his frustration at himself matching yours. “If I had been a better boyfriend, I would have trusted you more. If I had been a better person, I wouldn’t have lied to you. And maybe if I had been a better son, my parents--”

As if your body had a mind of its own, you threw your arms around him in a hug before he could finish his sentence. You heard a sharp inhale come from him as he sat, rigid.

“Don’t,” you whispered, breathing harshly as you held him tight. “Please, Toshi. Don’t say that. If no one ever told you this, please listen to me then. It’s not your fault. Your parents divorcing has nothing to do with your worth. Don’t blame yourself for the issues they had.” 

His shoulders were still tense despite the shudder of tears you felt.

“You don’t need to blame yourself for everything. Hold yourself accountable, yes. Always strive to be a better person, yes. But don’t think it’s all your fault,” you pleaded. “You don’t have to handle everything on your own. You can lean on someone, Toshi.” You gently stroked the hair on the back of his head. “You can lean on me.” 

At your words, you felt him visibly relax, his body free of the tension as you held him close. 

Suddenly, his arms wrapped around you as he returned your embrace, his strong hands firmly gripping your waist as if he never wanted to let you go. You found yourself loosening up at his touch and you placed your head in his chest. 

Peering up at him through your lashes, you said, “I don’t know if you need to hear this, but I need to say it.” 

His thumb stroked the length of your spine as you continued. 

“I forgive you, Hitoshi. For everything.” He stopped moving as he looked at you in surprise. You simply smiled at him. “Your apologies were genuine and so is your regret. I know you’re a good person and I forgive you, so please stop blaming yourself now.” 

“Thank you, Y/N. So much.” He pulled away ever so slightly, feelings of guilt still flooding him. “But I feel like I still don’t deserve it though--”

A noise of protest bubbled up at your throat. “I swear to god, if I hear the d-word come out of your mouth again, I’ll make you shut up.” After a moment’s pause, you tried to hide your laughter. “Heh. D-word.”

“Oh my god,” he said, his amusement escaping him. With his arms still around your waist, he challenged, “How would you make me shut up?”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

Hitoshi laughed a genuine laugh that you haven’t heard in years. The deep rumble had a smile of your own forming on your lips. 

But the mood turned serious when you gazed into his eyes again.

“Really, though…” you said, squeezing the fabric at his sides. “I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way for so long without telling anyone. I hope you know you can always talk to me.” 

He tilted his head back, staring at your ceiling as you caught sight of his Adam’s apple. “Why are you being so nice to me after how much I hurt you?”

“Because I care about you,” you answered simply. “And I know you still care about me. You wouldn’t be this hung up over everything if you didn’t.” 

There was a sort of smugness in you as you teased him and he let out a breath of laughter. 

“Hah. I do. I care about you. And I’ve missed you so much.” 

You didn’t think it was possible, but he hugged you even closer to him. Your arms released their embrace on Hitoshi as you brought them to your sides. He looked down at you with a strange expression.

“I’ve missed you, too,” you admitted, squeezing your eyes shut as if it pained you. “You’re the first and only person I’ve ever loved and I miss you more than you could ever know.” 

Your head was bowed at his chest as you tried to steady your trembling hands by grasping the fabric at the front of his shirt.

“Why did you never call me? Why didn’t you tell me you were moving to another continent? Toshi, I loved you so much--” Your voice broke off as the tears you were holding in escaped you. “Why did you leave me?” 

His fingers were laced in your hair, holding you tight. He wanted nothing more than to soothe your tears and hated himself for being the cause of them. “I’m an insecure idiot who fucked up the best thing that ever happened to him.” 

Through the blur of tears, you saw the wistful look on his face. The best thing? you thought to yourself, touched. 

“No amount of apologizing is going to fix anything,” he said, accepting it as a fact, “but I am so sorry. And I want you to know I’m grateful the person who AirDropped me that day was you.”

He lifted your chin and wiped your tears away with the pad of his thumb. Your knees were touching his thighs as you sat down with your legs folded under you, facing him. Letting go of the grip you had on his shirt, you unballed your fists and instead rested your palms on his chest.

You grinned at the audacity of it all. “I still can’t believe that happened. But I’m glad it did, too.”

“Must be a small world.”

“Or maybe it’s fate.” Your hand found his as you interlocked pinkies with him bashfully. 

Hitoshi looked down at your interlaced fingers and a light dusting of pink colored his cheeks. A sense of enjoyment filled you as he continued to blush, a teasing grin playing on your face. 

Before you lost any courage you had, you pressed your lips against the corner of his mouth-- Not quite a kiss but most definitely an invitation for one.

The red on his cheeks died down as his eyes darkened in color, removing his hand from your waist to cup your jaw. Hitoshi’s palm was warm and soft against you and you leaned into his caress.

“Do you feel like you got the closure you needed?” he asked, his voice a whisper as he leaned close to you. 

“Yes.” You nodded, painfully aware of your close proximity. If you were to lift your head up any more, your lips would brush against his. “Do you?”

“Yes.” 

His forehead was pressed against yours and your heart was being so hard, you were certain Hitoshi could hear it from his spot in front of you.

After a moment’s silence, you said, “Now what?” 

He shrugged, eyes shut. “That’s up to you to decide. I’m happy with doing whatever will make you happiest. And if that means leaving you alone and letting you close this chapter, then I--”

You yelped, silencing him with a gentle shove on the chest.

“Are you crazy?” you asked incredulously. “You think I would ever let you go again?” There was frustration in your voice as you resisted the temptation to kiss the stupidity out of him. “I… I mean, unless that’s what you want?” 

“Y/N…” Now he was the one with the tone of disbelief, like he couldn’t wrap his mind around what you had just said. “I’d want to stay with you. For as long as you’d let me.”

“O-Oh?” Your eyes widened in shock, but soon settled into an ecstatic smile. “Fate must have done us a favor with all this AirDrop stuff, huh? I fell for you all those years ago as Shinsou, and I fell for you again without even knowing who you were. There’s no way I’d throw that chance away.” 

Tired of waiting for him to make the first move, you brought your hands to the back of his neck, and lifted your head up to meet his. You spotted an amused look on his face, but it didn’t last very long when your lips finally pressed against his with a contented sigh.

His movements were gentle and slow, like he was afraid if he kissed you any harder he would find this was only an illusion that would shatter. But it wasn’t. It was real and it was genuine and you wanted to prove it to him. 

You broke away from his touch to pepper chaste kisses on his jawline, starting at the lobe of his ear and making your way down to the sensitive part of his throat you knew would drive him crazy, your hot breath blowing against his neck as a guttural sound escaped him.

“Eager, are we?” he asked hoarsely, his chin lifted. 

You grinned mischievously against him.

“As much as I appreciate the gesture,” said Hitoshi, gently pushing you away with a roguish glint in his eyes, “you don’t always have to keep giving. You should be spoiled for a change.”

You squealed when his hands trailed down your sides to cup the undersides of your thighs, lifting you up as you sat down on his lap. His hands unclasped the button that fastened his coat on you and brushed the collar aside, exposing the supple skin on your upper chest.

“You should be spoiled,” he breathed in between each kiss he planted on your decolletage, “every day of your life.”

Your face burned at the implication of his words, the skin his mouth had touched feeling like they were searing hot. Though his jacket had fallen off your shoulders, you were still overwhelmed by his scent, the woodsy citrus filling your senses as you sighed his name and you still couldn’t get enough. He was more intoxicating than any vodka you had consumed earlier that night. 

Growing impatient at his teasing, you squirmed on his lap, causing him to hiss in response. 

You giggled at his expression and stuck your tongue out at him. “Just kiss me already.”

Tossing his inhibitions to the side, he obliged. 

When your lips met again, this time it wasn’t uncertain and gentle. Each move Hitoshi made was firm and deliberate and if you weren’t already sitting down, your knees would have gone weak and given in.

His teeth grazed your lower lip and he kissed you harder, and your hands found themselves tangled underneath the hem of his shirt. The skin on your arms filled with goosebumps as he mimicked your motions, his fingers toying with the clasp of your bra as his name escaped your lips once more in a strangled moan.

Before it could go any further, however, Hitoshi removed his hands from the band of your undergarments and slowly pulled away from your kiss. 

His face was flushed with beads of sweat falling down the side and his breathing was labored. You were certain you weren’t any better as you rested your forehead against his to steady yourself. 

“Why’d you stop?” you asked with a strained voice, giving him your best pleading eyes.

“It’s late and you need some rest, baby.” He pressed a soft kiss to your nose with a smile. “I don’t want to stop--believe me,” he promised, his hands squeezing your thighs that still straddled his lap, “but I also don’t want you to rush into anything you might regret.” 

You pouted, not wanting him to stop, but also feeling grateful he wanted to make sure you weren’t going to do anything you would regret the next day.

“Damn you for being such a gentleman,” you grumbled. 

He ran the tip of his tongue against his lower lip. It was plump and red and it took all your willpower not to kiss it again.

“Only sometimes, princess,” he said when he noticed how your gaze zeroed in on his mouth. “But for now, you should get ready for bed. The sun is almost rising already.” 

Hitoshi made a move to get up and you slowly unwrapped your legs from his hips, standing up shakily. He placed his hands on your hips to help you steady yourself, but that just made the weakness worse. 

Still holding you, he stood up from the couch and looked down at you, resting his chin on the top of your head as you hugged him. 

“You’re leaving?” you whimpered, a pout on your face. 

“Sadly,” he sighed. “I have work tomorrow. Well, in a few hours I suppose. But if you need me to stay I--”

“Oh, my god!” you cried, jumping away from him. “You have work? And yet you still came for me and let me keep you this whole time?! Toshi!” 

You folded your arms across your chest as you scolded him, but he just ruffled your hair playfully. 

“It was the least I could do,” said Hitoshi. “And I’m used to running on little to no sleep. It’s fine, don’t worry about me.” 

“It’s not fine! If you don’t get enough sleep this week I will smother you until you pass out.” You glared at him, holding his face between your hands and examining his tired eyes. Your gaze softened when you saw how sleepy he looked and thought about how well he hid it from everyone. You sighed. “And I think you’re a lot more selfless and caring than you give yourself credit for.” 

You kissed the apples of his cheeks and smoothed his brows. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you said. “You should get going.”

“No, you’re the one I should be thanking,” he replied, giving you one last embrace before getting ready to head towards the door. 

Both of your legs felt like lead, neither of you wanting to leave the other after years of being apart. With a smile, he moved towards the door. 

In silence, you examined him for the first time in four years. He was taller than before-- Bulkier, too. It looked like he worked out since he was in college, his plain shirt stretching against his pectoral muscles. 

But still, he was the same Shinsou Hitoshi you had always loved. 

You glanced at his bared arms and your eyes widened. “Oh, wait--! Your coat!” 

It had fallen off your shoulders and onto the floor during the heat of the moment, and you picked it up and brought it to him. As you held it out, his hands wrapped your outstretched ones around the fabric of his sweater. 

“No, it’s okay,” he said with a shake of his head and a small grin on his lips. “You should keep it. It suits you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him in warning, but hugged the coat to your body nonetheless. “I hope you know this means I’m never giving it back to you now.” 

Hitoshi laughed. “I figured.”

He was about to grab the door knob when you blurted, “O-Or maybe I could give it back to you! If we were to, I don’t know, meet up for some food this week?” 

Turning back in surprise, he was met with a look of utter embarrassment on your face. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire. 

You bit your lip, unsure what had just come over you when you asked him on a date but also not regretting it for a moment. 

“Only if you want,” you murmured, suddenly feeling more bashful. 

Taking the hint, Hitoshi looked at you with a mix of wonder and amusement. “Sure. I’ll get some food with you just to have my coat back.” 

You gasped, cheeks burning. “You know what? Never mind, I’m keeping this--!”

“I’m kidding,” he laughed, tone still teasing. “The jacket is just a bonus. What I’d really be there for is...the food.”

You buried your head in your hands and sighed. “I-- Why do I have to like you?” 

He shrugged, feeling just as lost as you were. “Because feelings are strange.” 

“They are,” you agreed. “But they’re worth it. And so are you.”

Hitoshi smiled as you gave him a gentle kiss goodnight. 

“Have a safe drive home, Toshi.”

“Thank you. Go get some sleep now, kitten. We can talk when you wake up.” 

You nodded feverishly, almost bouncing in anticipation at the thought of talking to him again. “I’m going to sleep right now so I wake up faster and get to talk to you sooner.”

A chuckle of surprise left his lips before he could stop himself. “You’re such a dork, you know? But I love that about you.”

Your face heated at the sound of the l-word as the two of you stared at each other, both in shock that the night happened and even happier that it did. 

“I… I should go now,” he said in a daze. He didn’t want to leave and you didn’t want him to, but you knew he had work soon. 

You nodded, waving at him as he left your house. “See you soon, Hitoshi.”

When the door closed shut behind him, you slumped a little. Tired and exhausted yet wishing you could see him soon. Though it might have been foolish, you couldn’t help but wish he was feeling the same.

Grabbing your phone on the coffee table, you unlocked it to check the time. You were about to shut it off and put it in your pocket when a notification bubble popped up on your screen.

“AirDrop: mememate would like to share a note,” it read, and a grin spread across your lips as you eagerly pressed accept. 

The notepad application immediately opened up on your phone and you read the small message on the off-white display.

mememate: can’t wait for our date, y/n. p.s. i really really like you.

Letting out a surprised cry of joy, you held your phone to your chest, hugging it along with Hitoshi’s jacket he had left you. 

From the other side of the door, Hitoshi had heard your scream and responded with a laugh of his own. A feeling of warmth in his heart as he placed his phone in his pocket and headed for his car. Thank goodness for AirDrop. 

Your heart was pounding and your lips were still pulsing from the way he kissed you. Even as you got ready for bed and drifted off into a restful sleep, the silly smile never fell from your face. 

You were grateful he came to get you at the nightclub, and you were grateful he was the recipient of your memes that day at the amusement park. 

He made mistakes in the past and you were no saint either, but you had an opportunity to heal those wounds and be with Hitoshi again. 

And you just couldn’t wait for your next date together. 

a/n: AHHH THAT WAS A LOT,, pls let me know what you think! i know some readers never want to forgive shinsou at all and that’s okay, but i do think y/n forgives him and still really cares about him [and maybe l-words him? o.o] so i hope u support it 🥺 ilysm and thank you for reading! lmk ur thoughts !! xx 

[hwangsies]

LIMERENCE

(n) the state of becoming infatuated with another person

pairing: hyunjin x female reader

summary: you haven’t spoken a word to hyunjin since he ghosted you after a fun new years eve together, so what’s the worst that could happen when fate (or chaeryong,...well, same thing) pairs you up for a road trip across the country?

warnings: e2l (ish), university student!au, non idol!au ,a lot of swearing. alcohol consumption,long flashback, mentions of infidelity, hyunjin is a giggly sweetheart, smut as in: dom!hyunjin, unprotected sex (wrap it up luvs),fingering, oral (f recieving), slight choking, praise kink, hand & strenght kink (manhandleing oopsie), slight overstimulation, hyunjin is really enthusiastic about consent (as you should be, periodt), reader is nervous and scared of hyunjins big pickle (ew i hate myself), motel sex (but it’s not trashy i promise!)

8.6 k words ,meaning grab a snack and a drink,

and enjoy!<3

---

"alright everyone" your professor rubs his hands together "that was it for today... i hope you all have a great break and i'm very exited to see all of you again next semester. hopefully in person again" he chuckles.

You and your classmates exchange goodbyes with him before one after the other exits the zoom call.

"fuck" you sigh after closing your laptop and lean back on your bed.

"you did it girl" your dormmate chaeryong claps, at which you giggle before shifting your eyes to her on the other side of the room.

She's sitting on her bed, folding her clothes before putting it in her suitcase thats placed in front of her.

"finally" you sit up and watch her roll up a pair of socks.

"my last class was yesterday and mrs kim teared up" she giggles "it was kinda cute not gonna lie"

"oh god" you snicker.

"hey did you find someone to take to yongin?" you ask, remebering chearyong talking about wanting to find someone to share gas expenses with in exchange for a ride to her hometown.

"oh yea, i did" she turn to you "i think you know him, seo changbin?"

You furrow your brows in thought, you feel like you've heard of the name.

"he's a music major, one year above us, hes also from yongin" she continues folding a pair of jeans "funny you'd ask actually cause he told me one of his friends was looking for a ride to seoul, isn't that where you're going?"

"Yea i was thinking about finding someone honestly because gas is really fucking expensive if you aint rich" you say, placing your laptop onto your nightstand.

"Mm you aint gotta tell me girl" chaeryong mumbles, folding a sweatshirt.

"so who's that friend?" you ask, stretching out on your bed.

"he's in his grade, hyunjin"

Your neck almost cracks from how fats you whip your head “hwang hyunjin?”

"Oh yea" she points at you "you know him?"

"unfortunately" you huff.

"o-oh, what"s the tea?" your roommate wiggles her brows at which you shake your head.

"nothing much really" you sigh, leaning back again "he's just like the most arrogant and stuck up fuckboy ever"

"wow, well thats not nothing" chaeryong laughs "any reason as to why you think that?"

"you could probably ask any girl on campus and she'll tell you the same" you scoff.

"really girl?" chaeryong squints an eye at you playfully "cause i've only heard of him being hot but never of him being a hoe. And you know i'm the first to know the hot gossip" she winks.

Laughing defeatedly, running your hand through your hair.

"it's just- we hit it off at the campus' new years eve party, like really hit it off- at least thats what i thought"

"oooh spill it spill it" chaeryong leaps over to your bed to sit at the end of it.

"well there's really not much to spill, i gave him my number and he was talking all that smack about taking me out and stuff aaand to make a long story short i never heard from him again"

"well" chaeryong speaks slowly, biting her lip guiltily "i dont think you'll be very happy about me giving changbin your number for him, then?"

"you did what???" your eyes almost pop out of your head.

"sooorryy" she jumps up from your bed, clutching her hands apologetically "i didnt know"

"aaaaarghh" you whine, burying your face in your pillow.

"maybe he won't even text you though" chaeryong tries to console you, but the damage is already done...

-

unknown number - hey i got this number from changbin, i heard you're driving up to seoul, i'd love to tag along if you're looking for someone to share expenses with -recieved at 9:12 am

You huff looking at the message on your phone.

After chaeryong had left last night you really convinced yourself that he couldn't possibly dare to reach out to you.

But here you are reading his message after just waking up, and your day is already ruined.

you - who is this? - sent at 9:56 am

You know who it is, but you're not going to give him the satisfaction of thinking that you do.

Scoffing when he answers almost immediately.

unknown number - this is hyunjin, did i reach the right person? - recieved at 9:57 am

You have two choices at this point.

1. be petty and bitter about a boy who probably doesn't even remember you.

Or 2. move on and help someone who is also just trying to get home and also maybe get some closure.

So you curse your mother for rasing you so well and suck it up.

you - yea sure, i planned on leaving tomorrow at around 6 pm - sent at 10:02 am

Damn you and your common human decency.

he sus - oh okay great :) i only have one suitcase and a backpack btw so i wont take up alot of space or anything - recieved at 10:05 am

he sus - also i feel weird bc i dont know ur name or anything changbin literally just sent me the number and nothing else lol, also 6 sounds good should we meet at the main building then? -sent at 10:06 am

You're quite honestly not shocked that he seems nice over text because he was the same when you met on new years eve.

you - sure lets meet at the main building, my car is white and my name is y/n - sent at 10:09 am

Cringing as you press the send button because you are 99% certain he won't answer anymore; not that you'd care, obviously.

he sus - alright y/n see you tomorrow at 6 then :) - recieved at 10:14 am

You raise your brows when your phone lights up with his message, does he really not remember you?

Was he that drunk?

Well, it doesnt matter because you don't want to pay for all this gas alone and he seems to be the next best option to fix that.

So you shrug it off and get out off bed to run some last errands and start packing.

-

Your heart is beating unreasonably fast when you take a turn towards the main building at 5:55 pm the next day.

Calm down y/n it’ll just be 5 hours and who says you have to talk to him?

However you do know deep in your heart that you only wanted to arrive just a little early so you could complain about him being late.

That plan got cut short because your eyes fall on him as you pull up to the main building.

He’s- oh my god he’s blonde. You stop your car and he looks up at you.

“it is you!” hyunjin smiles at you when you step out of the car.

“who else would it be?” you ask, a little irritated at his reaction.

His face drops a bit when he sees you clearly annoyed by him, but the doesn’t blame you; he’d be mad too.

You open your trunk for him to put his weirdly small suitcase into, looking him up and down as he lifts it inside.

He’s wearing dark baggy pants and a windbreaker jacket, the top part of his chin-length blonde hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail.

He seemed to have bulked up as well, shoulders looking broader than what you remember.

The hair is different than the jet black hair that you remember on him, but it suits him very well; to be honest he would look good in any hair colour, not that you’d care though.

The first thirty minutes of the ride go by agonizingly slow and in complete silence.

When you drive onto the freeway you can’t take it anymore and mumble something among the lines of ‘wanna listen to some music?’.

You don’t wait for an answer, pressing the radio button right as you finish your sentence.

“uh, actually” hyunjin starts, his hand lifting to turn the radio back off, your eyes snap towards him, is he serious? Turning off your radio in your car?

“I wanted to address this situation” he says rather quietly.

You scoff “what? You realized that this is awkward just now?”

“no- I mean- yes I understand why you would think that but I just really want a chance to explain myself” he stutters.

“explain yourself” you repeat after him before mumbling “sure because there’s so much to explain”

“listen, I know you think I’m an asshole who just ghosted you b-“

“listen, I can handle rejection, you could’ve just said that you weren’t looking for something serious and I would’ve accepted that. The thing I’m mad about though is you literally making false promises and shit” 

Hyunjin blinks at you “can I please just explain to you what happened?”

You let out a long huff “sure” you wave your hand “go ahead”

“when you and your friends left at around 4, you wrote your number on my arm with your eyeliner, correct?” he asks.

Glancing over at him, you nod.

“after you where gone, I was already pretty drunk but then my friends decided to drag me with them to a different party that was still going” you see him fiddling with his hands in your peripheral “well I got super fucking shitfaced at that party and ended up puking on this one guys shoes”

You raise your eyebrows and hold back a laugh, which he notices.

“its okay you can laugh” he chuckles as well.

“anyways that guy was not very happy about it and busted my lip before kicking me and my friends out, so then back in the dorm my roommate sat me in the shower because I was full of alcohol, blood and puke”

“ew” you chime in.

“and when I woke up the next morning your number was gone” hyunjin looks over at you “we don’t have any mutual friends, I didn’t know what your major is so I couldn’t even asks for you in the administrating office, and then the covid lockdown happened and here we are”

“you called the administrating office?” you look over at him, he nods a little smile on his stupid pretty lips.

“yep, so, sorry to tell you but your eyeliner is not waterproof” he jokes at which you playfully knit your brows at him.

“believe me, I wanted to text you. I really wanted to take you out; and when you sent me your name yesterday I didn’t know if this was a lucky coincidence or if you’re a different y/n, that’s why I didn’t say anything” he explains.

You take a deep breath as you realize you have to apologize for going off on him just now, you believe him but you hate apologizing.

“well, I feel like an ass for going off on you like that after hearing all this” you chuckle “I’m sorry” you eye him shortly before looking back on the road.

“it’s okay, you don’t have to apologize I get how it looked, very much sus” he laughs with you.

-

Coming back to your car after you took a bathroom break on a highway rest-stop, you see hyunjin sitting in the drivers seat.

“what do you think you’re doing?” you smile as you sit down on the passenger seat.

“I thought maybe you’d like to sleep since its dark already and you’ve been driving for almost 3 hours” he suggests while putting on his seatbelt.

“well, I wont say no to that” you shrug and put your seatbelt on as well.

“so when did you go blonde?” you ask curiously.

“uh- around end of june” hyunjin chuckles “it was a dare if I’m being honest but I ended up liking it and got it redone”

“oh okay” you check out his profile once more and follow his hair with your eyes “I like it”

“yea?”

“yea, which is weird cause I’m usually not into blondes at all” you wonder.

“hm” he grins “must be me then” he says before winking at you.

“pfff, in your dreams” you rebuttal playfully, at which he laughs and mumbles a ‘true’.

You don’t react to it because you think your ears are playing tricks on you.

“hey I have a question too” hyunjin says.

“what’s up” you lean your arm against the window as you look over at him.

His face is slightly lit by the lights of the other cars, no seriously, how can a side profile be so perfect?

“why did you even agree to take me with you if you thought I ghosted you?” he grins.

You laugh “well, I’m a nice person and I know not a lot of people there are from seoul and my mom raised me right, okay?”

“okay okay” he giggles, the way his eyes crinkle when he does makes you smile everytime.

“or…did you have such a good time with me on new years that you just had to jump on this opportunity?” he quips, carefully stealing a peek at you.

“sure, why do you think I was so upset when you didn’t text” you feign sadness.

The both of you laugh before falling into comfortable silence.

When looking outside your window, you think back to said new years eve.

-(flashback)

“oh my god” you said, stepping into the big hall that usually is the universities gym. But whoever planned this outdid themselves.

A dj was placed on one of the tribunes and a whole buffet of drinks and punches on the other, as well as a big disco ball hanging from the ceiling, making the room shimmery and shiny.

You could see people coming out of the doors that connected into the universities hall on one side and into the locker rooms on the others, as if it wasn’t already packed.

“this is fucking insane” lia, your roommate from last semester, squeaked while grabbing your arm and jumping a little, her voice overpowering the blasting music..

“I wanna get fucking hammered tonight” you turned to her.

“oh babe don’t worry,  we didn’t come here to drink soda” she laughed before spotting some of your other friends.

About five minutes before midnight you and some more girls gathered at the buffet of drinks and started doing shots.

You all had decided that instead of kissing someone at 12 o’clock you’d ring in 2020 with a shot, because alcohol can’t cheat on you.

You were laughing at something when some people started the countdown.

10!

9!

8!

7!

6!

5!

4!

3!

2!

1!

“HAPPY NEW YEAR”

Every one shouted and celebrated in union as you downed your shot.

“happy new year babe” lia hugged you after downing hers.

“happy new year!” you shouted into her ear, full of relief that this stressful year was over.

“lets do another one” she grinned widely after your whole friend group had shared their wishes with each other.

A girl you didn’t know very well handed you another shot, just as you emptied your glass you heard a guy yell something before stumbling into your back.

“jesus” you stumbled forward a bit before turning around, ready to throw someone a dirty look.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” in front of you suddenly stood a tall dark haired young man with almost too perfect facial features, frowning a little out of concern.

“nothing happened” you smiled, taking a step towards him so he’d hear you better.

“I’m glad” he replied, a grin slowly stretched across his handsome face

“I’m y/n” you giggled as you held out your hand.

His eyes crinkled with his smile as he took your hand in his “I’m hyunjin” he said before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

“okay guys let her have her fun lets go over there” you hear lia usher your friends away from behind you.

“happy new year y/n” he said before instinctively pulling you a little closer to him when a group of people passed behind you.

“happy new year hyunjin” you replied, a slow blush creeping on your face from how intensely he was taking in your appearance.

“well yea happy fucking new years to me for running into you” he joked before taking a sip, your brain wasn’t able to function anymore so you just giggled and nervously pushed your hair behind your ear.

It had been way too long since you’d talked to a guy, especially someone as attractive as him

“you’re fucking stunning” hyunjin complimented you and lifted your hand with his to make you spin for him, to which you complied because you took a long time getting ready and always appreciate being appreciated.

“thank you” you were crimson red by now but hoped he wouldn’t see because of the dimmed lights.

“how come I’ve never seen you around? I would’ve remembered you” he tilted his head.

“oh this was my first year here and I live on the other side of campus so…” you nodded slowly “but yea I would’ve remembered you too”

He grinned before downing his drink and putting on the table next to the both of you.

“wanna dance?”

That’s how you found yourself on the dance floor with hyunjin pressed against your back.

Slowly but surely the alcohol made you braver; and it didn’t take long for the dj to play perfect songs to grind yourself against his toned body to.

His reaction was instant, hands gripping even harder at your waist and his own movements matching your own.

You looked back at him just to have the air knocked out of your lungs, a barely there sheen of sweat was covering his forehead; his pupils were dilated and his lips were slightly parted before his tongue swiftly swept over his lower lip.

He looked like sex on legs and moved like it too.

His plump lips formed into a grin when he noticed you staring, you didn’t know if it was the alcohol running through your system but you so desperately wanted to kiss him.

“can’t stop looking at you either, pretty” he lowered his head to mumble against your cheek before pressing a kiss there.

“you’re so goddamn sexy” you blurted out as you turned around to face him, running one of your hands through his dark hair before positioning them on his firm chest.

He threw back his head as his chest vibrated with laughter.

“don’t laugh at me” you laughed as you locked eyes again.

“you’re cute when you’re drunk” hyunjin brought one hand to your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“you dont even know me sober” you giggle “also i’m not drunk!” you protested playfully, his hands found your waist in the meantime to pull you flush to his body; at which you gasped almost inaudibly.

“oh really?” he looked down at you, clearly amused “didn’t you drink like 5 shots half an hour ago?”

“well well well, I didn’t know I had an audience” you countered, looping your arms around his neck.

Hyunjin prodded at the inside of his cheek with his tongue before looking away for a swift second, slightly embarrassed because he just exposed himself.

You felt yourself gush a little when he licked his lips again after bringing his gaze back to you.

“so you almost knocked me over on purpose?” you grinned even bigger when he shook his head laughingly.

“listen” he chuckled, leaning down unnecessarily close because you could hear him perfectly fine but you weren’t going to complain.

“I actually didn’t run into you on purpose, that was my friends doing after he saw me notice you” he said.

You mouthed an ‘ahh’ while nodding, feigning disbelief.

“I’m serious” hyunjin laughed “I still have to thank him later; I would’ve probably chickened out”

He got quieter at the end of his sentence, his eyes jumping to your lips when you wet your lower lip with your tongue quickly.

“i-m glad he pushed you then” you replied, trying to hide the fact that your heart was pumping your blood in record time.

“yea” he inched his face closer to yours as you tilted your chin up to meet him in the middle “me too”

His eyes switched from your lips to your eyes one more time before closing the gap between the both of you.

His lips were firm but soft at the same time in the way they moulded against yours, you swore you could hear lia squealing from somewhere but maybe you were just hearing things.

But when his tongue touched yours in the most tentative way you lost contact to what was going on around you, slinging your arms tighter around his neck and deepening the kiss.

A tiny groan escaped hyunjins throat when you carded your fingers through his hair to tug on it and release some of the adrenalin that rushed through you.

He was slow and explorative and let you take control from time to time before sucking on your lower lip and making you loose it.

You didn’t know how many songs had passed; to be honest you didn’t even remember what song was playing when you started kissing.

All you knew in that moment was hyunjins lightly flushed cheeks, swollen lips and dark glistening eyes.

“let’s go somewhere else?” he questioned in a whisper when you bit your lip, nodding at his question.

He grabbed your hand in his before manoeuvring the both of you through the dancing and celebrating crowd.

Before you knew it, hyunjin pulled you into the entrance hall of the university where multiple people had the same idea as you.

Couples scattered across the big room, some just talking, most of them however making out heavily.

“come on” he softly tugged at your hand, smiling when your gaze falls on him.

He lead you up the big flight of stairs onto a floor of the building you’ve never been to, stopping in front of a random room before pulling a small set of keys out of his back pocket.

After unlocking the door, he opened it to let you step inside.

It was a dance studio, the wall right across from you was just one huge mirror through which you could see the big couch in the back of the room and the water dispensers next to it.

“why do you have the keys for this room?” you asked, giggling.

Hyunjin grinned as he closed the door “I’m a dance major, we all have keys for the practice rooms”

“that’s so cool” you beamed “I wish I could dance” you looked around the room, walking towards the mirrored wall a little bit.

“you were moving just fine earlier” hyunjin came up behind you, nimble hands finding your waist as he looked you up and down through the mirror intensely, now that you were under the bright lights of the room.

You couldn’t help but to smile a little at that, the tight little glitter dress that you had chosen really did accentuate your curves in the best way possible, paired with the cute black heels which made your legs look way longer than they actually are.

“but that was like club sexy dancing, you know?” you elaborated.

“hm” he hummed amusedly “whats wrong with sexy club dancing?” you turned around to him.

He didn’t look to shabby himself, all in black, a chic button up with some jeans and a belt; accessorized with rings on his pretty fingers, a  dainty silver necklace and some small earrings.

Some might say he was underdressed, but the way he carried himself with such confidence, and that face of his must for sure be a panty dropper, you thought.

“nothing but… I don’t know, teach me something” you pleaded.

“what do you want me to teach you?” he laughed.

“I don’t know a pirouette or something” you suggested, laughing as well.

“okay” he grinned “this is like the base stance” he positioned himself correctly before looking at you to see if you were following his instructions.

“mhm” you hummed, replicating what he was doing.

“and then you get momentum with one leg to be able to swing yourself around, like this” hyunjin explained before executing a perfect pirouette and ending it back in the base stance.

“that was fast” you chuckled.

“your turn” he grins before moving behind you “try to keep your eyes on yourself in the mirror otherwise you’ll loose balance”

“okay” you said unsurely.

“I’ll catch you if you fall” he winked at you, at which you scoff playfully before carefully swinging yourself into a pirouette.

You landed on wobbly legs but before you could tip over hyunjin stabilized you with a firm grip on your hips.

“you’re a natural” he grinned at you through the mirror.

“well thank you” you playfully feigned cockiness before he spun you around himself.

A few seconds pass of the both of you taking in each others features in silence, the only thing you could hear was the faint music of the party downstairs, before hyunjin spoke up.

“can I kiss you?”

You fell into giggles again as you let your forehead rest against his collarbone before looking up again “we’ve kissed before”

“yea but that was like a moment and I don’t want to catch you off guard or anything” he mumbles cutely.

“mm” you nod “ you can kiss me”

And with a smile, he does.

You weren’t surprised when his first gentle ministrations turned into more desperate ones rather quickly because you could feel the warmth spread in your lower regions as well.

He walked the both of you over to the couch, only parting from your lips when he sat down on the black leather material of the couch.

“come here, pretty girl” he took your hand to help you straddle him, your dress riding up but you couldn’t care less if he saw your safety shorts, and he didn’t seem to care either by the way he feverishly connected your lips again.

His hands travelled down to squeeze at your waist before smoothing over your ass and grabbing a handful of each cheek, you moaned into the kiss when you realized how big his hands were.

Your own hands were squeezing at his shoulders before one moved into his soft hair while the other softly rested on his cheek.

The kiss was messy and desperate, teeth clinking together and tongues licking at each other.

The things that riled you up the most however were his groans and praises.

“you’re so fucking sexy” he groaned before moving down to kiss at your jaw and down your neck.

A needy whimper escaped from your throat when he started suckling the sensitive skin at the base of your throat.

“fuck-hyunjin” you moaned when his teeth grazed over your clavicle.

Your hands fumbled before landing on his belt, at which he pulled away from your skin, gently taking your hands off of his belt.

“I’d love to take you out first, actually” his pretty kiss swollen lips twitched up into a shy smile as he pants.

“oh” you were taken aback, you were almost certain that this was something regular for him “I thought-“

“I mean if you just want to fuck we can fuck of course” he chuckled “but- I actually think you’re really cute and fun and I’d love to get to know you better”

Your mouth stood a little agape “uh- I mean-I” you stuttered, your brain not functioning properly because of the alcohol running through your veins but also him!

“its okay if you just want, you know-“

“no!” you blurted out all over sudden, making him flinch a little “sorry, uhm- its just been a while since I had a date” you smile apologetically.

His expression visibly brightens “that’s okay” he giggled “so is that a yes?”

You grinned, leaning in to just barely brush your lips with his, his head twitching upwards in an attempt to connect them fully.

“yes” you whispered, at which he smiled brightly before pulling your in for a kiss by your neck.

-(flashback end)

“y/n”

“hey, y/n” you grumble when you feel someone gently rocking your shulder.

“mmm-what?” you peek your eyes open just to see hyunjin smile at you.

“good morning sunshine” he teases as you sit up in your seat when you realize you aren’t driving anymore.

“just kidding its not morning” he says as you look around your car, realizing your on a parking lot.

“where the fuck are we?” you whip your head towards him “did you bring me here to kill me? kidnap me?”

“wha?- no” he laughs “no, I’m sorry. Right after you fell asleep there was this huge traffic jam because of an accident and we stood there for almost 3 hours so I drove off and found this” he points out the rear window, where you see a small motel building.

You look back at him before checking the time on your phone, seeing it was indeed almost midnight.

“fuck” you swear to yourself.

“I didn’t know if you wanted to keep driving because I was getting tired so I thought maybe-“ hyunjin starts rambling guiltily, not wanting you to thing that this was an attempt to get in your pants.

“hey” you put your hand on his shoulder after taking off your seatbelt “this is good, you made the right decision I think we both could use some sleep” you say.

You each take your suitcases and walk inside, it’s an old building but it looks pretty clean for a motel off of the highway.

“good evening you two” an old lady sits behind the, probably just as old, reception.

“good evening, could we get 2 single rooms, please” hyunjin speaks up politely.

“I’m afraid we only have 2 double bed rooms available, if you’d like to take them, they will however be more expensive than the rooms for one” she explains politely.

“its okay, we’ll take one of those, please” you decide, hyunjins head snapping towards you.

“is that okay?” you ask him.

“yea- sure” he nods.

“alright, room 301 it is” she hands you the key before stating that you’ll have to checkout before 12 pm and what the room costs.

“do you accept card?” hyunjin asks at which the friendly old lady nods before taking his card and swiping it through her little machine.

“I’ll venmo you half of what you paid” you say after unlocking room 301.

He tsk’s at you before shaking his head “don’t, it was my idea so I’ll pay”

“are you sure?” you ask closing the door behind you when he turns on the lights.

“yup-oh” he exclaims.

“this room is cute” you say, it’s small but the walls are a soft sunflower yellow, decorated with paintings of autumn leaves .

The bed looks clean, and when you smell the mouse gray blankets and pillows, they smell fresh as well.

“stop smelling the pillows” hyunjin laughs.

“I’ve never been to a motel, I thought everything would be dirty or ancient” you confess comically.

He chuckles as he comes out of the small bathroom “the bathroom is clean too, don’t worry” he says when you look at him expectantly.

“I’ll sleep on the floor if you want” he offers as you open your suitcase to get out your toothbrush and pj’s.

“it’s fine, hyunjin I’ve slept in the same bed as a male before” you joke.

“well how am I supposed to know that?” he counters, at which you throw your pj shorts at him out of reflex.

When you realize what you had done it was too late, he was already holding them out in front of him before giggling.

“very cute choice” he mocks the small white shorts with red hearts all over it.

“stoop” you whine, trying to fish it out of his hands but he holds them over his head like a kindergartener.

“I remember why I don’t like you” you pout, crossing your arms.

His face drops alongside with his arms “I thought we were past that”

You use his moment of weakness to snatch your shorts out of his hands “gotcha”

-

“see I told you I was gonna take you out” hyunjin beams at you before looking down at the various snacks he took from the motels vending machine, which were laying in between the both of you on the bed.

“and so luxurious too” you joke, crossing your legs.

“only the best for you” he grins when you open a pack of fruit jellies.

“you know, I was thinking about new years” you say “ and I realized that it was your fault!”

Hyunjin throws his head back as he groans playfully “why?”

“if you hadn’t lost your phone when we got back downstairs, I wouldn’t have had to write my number on your arm; or you could’ve just given me your number and I could’ve text you. But you didn’t even know your own number!” you laugh in reminiscence.

“listen” he laughs “I was drunk and you’re hot! I couldn’t think” he defends himself before taking a bite off a chocolate bar.

You blush a little but play it off with a laugh.

“but yes, I admit, it was indeed my fault” he dramatically holds his hand in front of his eyes.

“yeeees!” you exclaim victoriously.

“I’m kidding though” you pat his knee “I forgive you”

“I’m glad” he smiles.

After the both of you are done eating way too many sweets, you find yourself being really comfortable when talking to hyunjin.

He’s funny, doesn’t seem like he’s full of himself and just in general seems like a very kind person.

“I thought you were a fuckboy when me met” you confess, looking at him.

Propped on one elbow looking down at you, while you lay on your side towards him, his face illuminated only by the little lights on each of your nightstands.

“you did?” he asks confusedly.

“yea” you chuckle “you were so confident and…sexy I don’t know” you place your hand over your face in embarrassment.

“oh that was the liquid courage talking, I’m usually pretty shy” he shakes his head smilingly when you peek through your fingers.

“don’t lie” you push his shoulder softly.

“I’m serious!” he laughs.

“you were the first guy to approach me at a party” you pause “like ever”

“no way, you’re lying now” he furrows his brows.

“nope” you shake your head.

“but I was really close to not talking to you as well, I’m sure there were many guys before me that just didn’t have the liquid courage, like I did” he speculates.

“maybe” you say.

“have any exes?” he asks after a few seconds.

“yea, one”

“well how did you meet him?”

“he showed me around on my first day of freshman year, I transferred like in the middle of the first semester so I wasn’t with any other freshmen” you tell him.

“why’d you break up if I may ask?” hyunjin asks carefully.

“oh we were only together for like three weeks, you can’t even call I relationship. He used me to make his hot ex jealous and cheated on me with her” you say “but hey they’re back together at least” you scoff.

“i’m sorry” he mumbles at which you look up at him.

“it’s not your fault” you chuckle.

“well, still no one should feel that way” he says “you know that you were way too good for him right?”

You nod.

“what about you? Have any exes?” you ask back.

He snickers “only one in seoul”

“why didn’t you last?”

“it was a long distance situation, she was super jealous and couldn’t trust me. which I can understand to a certain degree but everytime I went out she wanted me to facetime her and show her what kinds of people were there with me. That was just too much” he explains.

“wow” you chuckle “that doesn’t sound fun either”

Hyunjin shakes his head “nope, but hey we got rid of ‘em, didn’t we?”

“yea” you giggle “plus if I hadn’t broken up with him I would’ve probably never gone to the new years eve party”

“I guess I owe him something then” he grins as you scooch up on the bed.

“can I kiss you?” you ask after a few seconds of silence.

“hm?” hyunjins eyes almost spring out of his head.

“I don’t want to catch you off guard” you grin as you repeat his words from the night you met, sitting up.

He licks his lower lip as a grin stretches over his face as he sits up as well “do your worst”

You get up on your knees to shuffle over to him, when you get close enough hyunjin grabs one of your thighs and lifts it over his legs so you’re straddling him.

Once you sit down on his lap, your eyes lock again and you’re once again baffled as to how someone can be so god damn attractive.

His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips expectantly, a shaky breath leaving his lips when you lean in.

Your lips connect and it feels like all the pent up energy of liking him since that night finally gets set free, sparks glowing behind your lit and his hands leaving a trail of fire where ever they go.

They squeeze at your thighs and waist, pulling you impossibly close to himself.

A whimper tears from your throat when his tongue licks at yours, he tastes like chocolate and what could only be described as him.

He moans into the kiss when you tug at the blonde locks that weren’t pulled back into the ponytail; before pulling the hair tie out of his hair to free it and finally card your fingers through all of the blonde glory.

Before you realize what’s going on, hyunjin lifts the both of you before dropping you on your back and crawling above you.

The fact that he just lifted the both of you from a sitting position as if you weigh nothing makes you feel all types of hot.

“you’re so hot holy shit” you pant as you push his long hair out of his face.

“ditto” he only grins before attaching his lips to your exposed collarbone and sucking a bruise into the skin.

“take it off” you moan as you tug on the dark blue calvin klein shirt he’s wearing.

His lips release the skin of your collarbone before sitting up to pull the shirt over his head.

If your mouth wasn’t already open from your heavy breathing, you would’ve opened it now because his body is more sculpted and toned than you had expected.

Your hand lifts to smooth over his abs, muscles flexing as he connects your lips again.

His one hand slides from your waist up to cup one of your breasts, gently palming the soft flesh.

“I know I said I wanted to take you out first but-“ he mumbles against your lips.

“you bought me a lovely dinner” you interrupt him, threading your fingers through the hair that’s falling down into his vision.

He grins, dropping a short peck to your lips before his the grin gets wiped off his face “I don’t have a condom with me”

“I’m on the pill” you let him know “I got tested before the lockdown and I haven’t been with anyone since soo…”

“yea, me too, I was tested a few months ago” he nods.

You nod back, biting your lip as you absently play with his hair.

“do you trust me?” hyunjin asks, observing your demeanour.

“yea- yea I do I’m just nervous” you smile awkwardly.

“no” he coos before kissing you “why are you nervous?”

“just haven’t been with anyone for a while” you confess.

Hyunjin nods understandingly “if you don’t want to do this we’ll stop”

“no I really want to” you look into his eyes as confidently as you can.

“okay” he smiles, planting his lips on yours again.

“can i?” his voice gives you goosebumps when he mumbles against the sensitive skin under your ear, his fingers slowy undoing the loose knot of your heart shorts.

“yes” you say when he locks eyes with you.

“I love these shorts” he softly presses a kiss to your knee, trying to calm your nerves a little, before he gently rocks your hips to pull them off of you.

You blush a little out of embarrassment but smile when you lift your hips to help him.

“cute” he whispers when he see’s your panties have a little bow on the front.

He chuckles when you hide your face in embarrassment, pulling you closer to him again by your thighs before you let him kiss you again.

“can I take this off too?” hyunjin whispers, softly pulling at the fabric of the tank top you’re wearing, at which you nod.

You are still wearing a bra when he pulls it off so you take it into your own hands and unclasp your bra.

Your nipples stiffen a little at the sudden exposure to air, as well as to hyunjin’s admiring gaze.

“fuck” he muses when palming your breasts in his big hands, gently pushing them together an running his thumbs over your nipples.

A whimper involuntarily leaves your lips when he wraps his plump lips around one of the perked up nubs and sucks gently.

“so fucking pretty, princess” you feel yourself pathetically clench around nothing at his praise.

You feel one of his hands wander downwards to provide some friction for you, he slots his lips against yours when you tentatively roll your hips against his hand.

Hyunjin feels his cock get even harder when an almost desperate moan tumbles from your lips against his. So he ads a little more pressure and starts circling your clit with two fingers, your sighs of pleasure mixing into the kiss.

“you’re so sensitive baby” he whispers as he parts his lips from yours “can I go down on you?” he grazes his lips over your chest, looking up at you seductively.

You nod as you bite your lip, hyunjin placing a few kisses on your tummy before shortly sitting up to also free you from your soaked panties.

The first stripe he licks up your slit, and how he swirls the tip of his tongue around your clit expertly sends you to heaven.

His hands are gripping your thighs to prevent you from closing your legs, your hands are tangled in his hair and the sheets.

“hyunj-fuck” you cry out when his tongue enters you.

He carefully prods one finger at your entrance “is that okay?” he asks, his voice hoarse and dripping with lust.

“yea” you sigh.

Once you adjust to one finger, he adds a second one, curling them upwards to search for that specific patch inside of you.

“yes-fuck right there” you moan when his fingers press onto the sweetest spot inside of you, tugging at his hair a little harshly. But you feel him moan against you, getting lost in your taste as he sucks your clit in between his soft lips.

Your hips buckle against his mouth as your eyes roll backwards, feeling the warmth of your orgasm approach rapidly.

“fuck fuck yes-hyunjin” you cry out just before he tipped you over the edge with his skillful ministration, your orgasm rushing up your spine and into your head, endorphins spreading everywhere.

A cry of pleasure fills the room as your thighs starts trembling with the aftershocks, clamping around his head when he drives you into overstimulation.

“oh-shit-“ you pant as you softly pushed on his forehead to get him away from your clit, his fingers still inside you, guiding you through your high.

He nibbles on your inner thigh apologetically. You can still hear your heartbeat in your ears after hyunjin removes his fingers from you and sits up, gently holding your legs together to help you calm down.

“fuck” you mewl, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

He’s wanted to do this for so long and there you are, with all of your naked glory in front of him.

While he’s daydreaming about you, you sit up and start fiddling with his sweatpants.

“you want more?” he quips, once he realises what you’re doing, leaning in to kiss you.

“mhm” you humm into the kiss affirmitavely when his hand holds you close to him by your jaw.

With a quick last peck to your lips he simultaneously shimmies the soft black sweats and his boxers off of himself.

You apparently visibly gulp at the sight of his cock because hyunjin smirks cockily “like what you see?” as he crawls above you again, his lips finding yours again and not waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know if you’ll fit” you mumble when he suckles at the soft nook of skin under your ear.

“we can stop here” he offers softly before locking eyes again.

You shake your head as you reach down to fist his length, slowly pumping it and smearing the few drops of precum around.

“no, you’re just really big” you huff with a shy smile on your lips at which hyunjin groans.

“you’re gonna be the death of me, you know?” he mutters against your lips before kissing you deeply, his hand smoothing over the slope of your waist before coming up to gently pinch at one of your nipples.

Eliciting a soft high pitched moan from you, this only spurs him on.

Rolling his tongue against yours desperately and making you taste yourself before sinfully sucking at the wet muscle.

All the while you’re stroking him with your small hand before cupping his balls, as if he didn’t already feel like he’s gonna blow his load way too early.

“please” you whine, guiding his reddened tip towards your entrance.

Hyunjin releases a shaky breath before replacing your hand with his, rutting his hips against yours a few times, coating his length in your wetness.

This already had your toes curling, suppressing a whine as you lock your legs around his waist.

“tell me if it hurts, yea?” he breathes, only pressing inside you after you nod, dropping a kiss to your swollen lips.

“fuck” he swears softly, tucking his face in the crook of your neck when he breaches your tight walls for the first time.

Your fingers tighten in his hair at the back of his neck when a subtle sting flares up inside of you.

“ah-“ your body flinches a little when he presses further inside, hyunjin notices, observing your expression before kissing your cheek and sitting up slowly.

“you’re doing so good, baby” he lifts his thumb to his lips, swiftly kitten-licking the digit before bringing it to where your bodies join.

Gently rolling your clit under his thumb to distract you from the pain.

“you look so perfect like this” his other hand travels over your stomach to gently squeeze at your breasts “all spread out for me”

You whimper, arching your back when hyunjin thrusts into you carefully; the pain slowly subsiding and the ache to be fully filled up by him growing exponentially when his cock rubs against your g spot.

“hyunjin” you moan, gripping onto his hand, which is resting atop your breast.

“yes baby, I’m here” he groans at how tight you feel once he’s balls deep inside of you, abandoning your clit to grab you by the hips for leverage.

His other hand resting on your cheek now, after a few trusts you moan “harder, please”

Hyunjin groans and fulfils your wish, at one particularly harsh thrust, you latch your lips around his pointer and middle finger, sucking at them.

“oh my god-that’s so fucking hot” he grunts through clenched teeth.

His cock dragging along your walls deliciously, filling you up to the brim as you hum around his slender fingers in pleasure.

“you like my hands that much baby?” his jaw is clenched and the grip on your waist is rough , the contrast to how sweet he was just a few minutes earlier had you clench around him furiously.

“fuck-“ he breathes when you nod to the best of your abilities, eyes wide open and holding his gaze.

You only release his fingers from in between your lips in favour for a loud high pitched moan when his other hand finds your clit again, rubbing harsh circles into the bud.

“-gonna cum-huynjin” you dig your nails into his biceps, eyes squeezing shut.

“yea?” he grits through his teeth the fingers that were previously trapped in your mouth now wrapping around your bared throat.

Not squeezing tightly, just resting there as if to show you that you’re his now.

Your thought gets confirmed when he rasps “you’re gonna date me after this, right pretty girl?”

You do look so pretty right now, tits bouncing and skin slapping because of the fast rhythm that he’s snapping his hips into yours, not to mention the subtle sheen of sweat that’s coating the both of you.

A desperate breathy chuckle tumbles from your lips “ yes-yes fuck” you feel your second orgasm creeping up on you.

“cum for me princess, all over my cock” he urges you on, his tip hammering into the sweet spot inside of you repeatedly before you crash into your second high of the night.

Your body convulses in pleasure as you call out his name mixed with profanities, your toes curling so hard you’re not sure if you can ever uncurl them again, and your nails probably leaving painful indents in his skin.

His thumb on your clit slows down until you grab his hand for him to stop, his hand around your neck grabs your free one, holding both of your hands over your head now.

“so good, baby” he mumbles, kissing your lips; mostly just breathing into each other as he rocks you through every wave of your orgasm.

Hyunjin looses himself in you not long after with a guttural moan and his eyes squeezing shut.

You coax him through it when he rests his face against your neck again, running your fingertips through his damp hair and over his broad back, muscles tensing under your gentle touch.

i“don’t fall asleep on me” you whisper sneakily, grinning when he chuckles against your neck, tickling the soft skin there.

He props himself up again to scan over your features, pushing some hair out of your face before kissing you tenderly.

“you okay?” his hand resting at your temple as he gently runs his thumb over your hairline.

“more than” you assure him, cupping his cheeks to pull his lips onto yours again.You think you can never get enough of his lips, anything about him for that matter; not when he makes you feel so cared about and safe.

“so does this mean we’re dating now?” he whispers after he has cleaned you up and tucked the both of you in bed.

“hmh” you nod your head sleepily, positioned on his bare chest.

“so I can spoon you once we fall asleep?” he asks, grin evident in his voice.

“you can spoon me but you can’t wake me up in the middle of the night if you get horny” you mumble jokingly, enjoying his fingers running down your spine as your eyelids get heavier.

“okay” he giggles softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before you whisper your good nights to each other.

And as promised, he doesn’t wake you up in the middle of the night because he’s horny.

It’s you who wakes him, because after 10 months of wasted time, you have a lot of catching up to do.

-

a/n: oml this is my first ever long fic so pls pls pls give me feedback, i had so much fun writing his even though it made me feel even more single but hey :))))

allsooo i waited til after work to publish this and i just saw i hit 500 followers?!?!?! thats crazy to me omg i started this like 2 months ago and so many ppl liked my stuff so much that they decided to follow me?? so i just wanna say thank u thank u thank u for hitting the follow button even though im very unorganized and everything i do is spontaneaous and not thought out well. but hey i guess there is a reason that u followed me so thank u!

(i’d love if u sent me an ask with the first one of my writings that u stumbled across, and how <3 ...only if u want tho no pressure) 

anyways thank u so much for reading if you’ve made it this far! i hope you have a great day/ night! much love

-aj

(this is a work of fiction and does not represent the real actions of stray kids or hwang hyunjin)

[pacifymebby]

Can’t Stand Me Now // Van

Request: Van and y/n (you can give them a name of you want) have a really bad arguement and they're both upset and frustrated but they go out with the lids and get all close holding hands and stuff as if silently telling eachother they still love eachother and everythings going to be okay.

You looked back at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were swollen and bloodshot from the tears you were still struggling not to cry. You had that angry flush to your cheeks, wounded expression as you tried to dab at your make up and salvage it.

Your taxi would be here any minute and you didn't have time to reaply the many layers of eye shadow and liner you had already applied once that evening.

You couldn't even remember how the fight had started now, only that you were fucking fuming and bitterly upset with him. He was already waiting outside, having a cig with a sulk on. Just as upset as you were though he wouldn't show it. Hed just sit there leaning against the wall scowling into the dark empty street watching for the taxi that was on its way to pick you up for a night you'd already managed to ruin between you.

You'd both said stupid, horrible things you knew you shouldn't have said. Both cut at each other, spiteful words fired across the landing as you argued back and forth for over an hour, you in tears and him more irate by the second. Despairing cause he didn't know what to do when you got upset like that.

You cried when you were angry see, cried over everything actually, you couldn't help it. And it made it worse when you were arguing with Van because you hated how easily your emotions shone through when his just didn't. He would just scowl, frown, get wound up and walk away. Sometimes he'd slam the back door as he abandoned you for a smoke. But that was as much of his anger or his hurt as you ever got to see.

It made it worse because it made you feel like he didn't even care. When you yelled and lost your temper, when you said stupid shit about how he was never there, about how you were always left alone to deal with the house and the family, you were the one who had to remember all the birthdays and the bills. You were the one left to deal with everything whilst he fucked off on tour around the world. You were stuck at home.

Then he'd remind you why he was always away, why he had to work so hard. He'd get pissed off remind you that this was the dream. And when you were feeling particularly bitter, when the adrenaline was hot in your veins you'd snap back. "Your dream not mine," and hed leave. Unable to argue back, some snide remark as he slammed the door and left.

You hadn't even been arguing about that to begin with, you'd probably only been arguing about the dishes or something petty and meaningless like that, but it had ended in the usual cressendo and now you were left inside alone, desperately trying to fix your appearance before the second argument you'd had resurfaced.

The even more ridiculous one.

"Do we have to do this now?! We're sposed to be meeting the lads in half an hour!"

"If you hadn't wanted to do this now you shouldn't have fucking started it should you!" you'd snapped back, turning away from him, trying to rescue your make up with tissue to your eyes.

"Jesus Christ love how am I the one who started this?"

"Bloody hell Van," you'd cried, "would you leave me alone!"

"How am I meant to leave you alone when we've gotta go out in 15 minutes?"

"I don't know do I just..."

"Well do you even still want to go?"

"What kind of stupid questions that Van obviously I still want to go!"

"Well you don't sound like you wanna go!" he cried back, leaving again to go and look for his phone. "Fuck it am calling and cancelling the taxi this is ridiculous..."

"What?" you cried, sobbing as once again you gave up on the make up. Reaching for a make up wipe instead as you gripped the side of the sink for stability. Your body shaking with the upset of your argument. "Van what are you doing?" you shouted after him only for his voice to come ringing back twice as sharp and twice as agitated as yours.

"Cancelling the bloody taxi what does it look like,"

"Why?" you shouted back, getting more wound up by the second because he was very obviously choosing not to listen to you now.

"Cause you obviously don't wanna go out anymore!"

"Yes i do, you're the one who obviously doesn't want to go out! Don't blame me!" you snapped back, glaring at him over your shoulder though he was already half way down the stairs and out the front door. The slam echoing leaving you to the quiet of your own sobs. Trying to calm down. Splashing your face with water to hide the redness, to calm your bloodshot eyes.

You'd worked yourself up into a right state, red rims around your eyes which you knew weren't going to go down.

You didn't have time to fix your make up and you knew that it would take a miracle to fix the mess you'd made anyway. Foundation would only stick and patch up where the salt from your tears had dried, eye liner and mascara would only highlight the red in your eyes. How wounded and swollen they were.

So you settled for washing your face clean, taking a deep breath and burying your face in the towel as you tried your best to calm down. Tried your best not to think about the fight or let the words you'd snapped at one another repeat and spark your tears again.

"Y/N what're you doing the taxis here!" Van called up the stairs to you, "cmon lass were gonna be late!" be shouted, his own voice calmed now, not quite carefree but certainly not wounded, certainly not upset like yours would be if you replied.

So you didn't reply. Just picked your lip gloss and your mascara and made your way reluctantly downstairs, struggling to pull your heeled ankle boots on by the front door.

Van was leaning up against the door, his cigarette still between his lips, watching you with the most sullen of expressions on his brow as you held onto the door frame and struggled with the zip on your boot.

He reached out to try and stabilise you but you pulled away from him, stubborn and childish, your sulking behaviour getting under his skin.

"Will you look after these?" you mumbled shoving your lip gloss into his open palm, not bothering to wait to see his fist close around them before he shoved them into the pocket of his jacket.

"Where's your coat love youre gonna freeze dressed like.."

"Cmon Van you're making us late!" you cut him off as you climbed into the back of the taxi and shoved your seat belt in. Calling out to Van who was still hovering by the front door debating whether or not to grab one of your jackets off the hook, knowing better when he saw the scowl in your eyes as you called out to him again.

"Van!"

"Aight alright am here," he mumbled, grumbling away to himself as he sat down and did his own belt up, slamming the car door, leaning forward to give the driver some directions to your local.

When he leant back into his seat he didn't relax, turned away from you to stare moodily out the window.

The driver glanced back at you both in the rear view mirror. If he noticed your tension, the wounded look in your eyes as you tried to hold back more tears, the wounded look in Van's as he ground his teeth and kept his gaze strictly on the window, then he pretended not to. Flashing you a grin, one stifled attempt at conversation after another as he asked you about your evening.

"big night out then kids?" he asked though neither of you passed for kids anymore, this driver was at least your dad's age and you let him get away with it, forcing a smile trying to be polite as you waited for Van to answer. Only realising he wasn't going to a moment too late.

"Oh uh, not sure yet," you said, trying your best to keep your smile looking honest. Glancing over at Van to see that he wasnt trying at all.

"There's some decent bars popping up down town just now, or are you off to one of these clubs?"

"Nah just going the pub with a couple of mates," you answered again when Van showed no sign of interest or involvement.

It was unlike him to be so rude, so sullen in the company of strangers. He was usually the first to greet someone with a smile and make conversation. Not tonight apparently.

"Not taking you on a hot date then?" chuckled the driver, trying to tease you clearly oblivious to the silent argument which was raging between the two of you as you kicked Van's foot with yours only to be completely ignored again.

That alone was enough to leave fresh tears brimming in your eyes, hating how it felt when he was cold with you. Hating how lonely you felt then.

"Nah no hot date tonight," you forced a smile, forced half a laugh, let the conversation peter out to nothing leaving the three of you to stew in silence until the car finally pulled up in the town center. It was dark, the buildings all lit up, the early spring chill in the air clouding peoples breath before them.

"Thanks mate," you said as Van slammed the door wordlessly and took out another cigarette. He had a proper face on but you were just as bad and as the car pulled away you couldn't help but take one final swipe at him.

"Jesus Van did you have to be so rude?" you huffed, taking a cigarette from your own pocket, scowling when he offered you his light, barely meeting your gaze or twitching a smile for you.

"Don't owe em an answer when they start giving you the third degree like..." he shrugged, stupid and childish the way he always was when he got into a mood.

"Dont take it out on the driver just cause you're pissed off with me..."

"Am not pissed off..." he started trailing off, looking at you with wounded eyes one second only to change quickly, looking past you with a grin as he saw his mates and began to walk over to them instead.

He'd looked painfully sad and misunderstood then, but only for a second. And the fact he could turn it off so quickly didn't sit right with you at all.

"Alreet sern!!" Larry's voice was loud and it echoed off the walls of the bars nearby. Made you jump as he pulled Van into a hug and then you. "Areet lass you look..." he started before Van coughed and cut him off. Saving you from the questions because he knew that if anyone asked you'd only cry, and that you hated crying in front of anyone, let alone his mates.

"hiya lid," you forced a smile and as Larry wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tight you caught Van's eyes over his mates shoulder. Saw it when his lips twitched the softest of smiles, a wink shot in your direction which left you struggling to hold back your own smile.

Even when you were cold and hostile he'd still be there to save you.

Even when he seemed to hate your guts he wouldn't abandon you.

"Reet cmon Lar a need a drunk," he said then, his shoulders still tense, lips still sullen as he turned to the bar, his best friend following him inside. The two of them leaving you to spy the rest of the lads who were gathered around one of the tables under a heat lamp. Jackets round their shoulders, cigs smouldering and pints on the go.

"Areet lass yous gan sit with us or what?" called Bondy when he saw you standing a little way away, ciggie smouldering between your lips as you watched them, not entirely certain you even wanted to be there now that you were standing on your own.

Still Bondy made it easy to flash a smile and when you wandered over he saw the look in your eyes, sensed the sorrow and shuffled up to make room for you.

"Trouble in paradise?" he lowered his voice leaning into your side.

"Aye your mates a cunt," you smirked sadly, your voice quiet, not wanting the others to hear your self pitying tone. Not wanting anyone to notice the remnants of your crying.

"Aye but you love him,"

And though it hurt in that moment you couldn't deny it was true. You did. You adored him.

"Uhuh," you smirked taking a sip of his pint when he offered it. He was drinking Guinness and the froth left a little moustache on your top lip.

"Sexy," he smirked teasing you till you cracked half a smile and tried to lick it away. "You know that's probably why it hurts so much," he said then, voice soft and wise. He always was, despite coming across like he was on drugs most of the time.

"Yeah," you sighed softly, still feeling a little sorry for yourself, soothed however by your friends warm smile.

"it serious?" he asked but you shook your head.

"Can't remember now..." you said shrugging your shoulders, seeing Van and Larry return with Bob in tow, the three of them carrying pints and shots.

You shuffled up when Van came to stand behind you, placing a double vodka down on the table in front of you and some strange looking shot. The kind that looks lethal.

"Thought yous said quiet night down the pub!" grinned Benji when he saw the array of spirits before him.

"When av we ever had a quiet night down the pub Blakes?" smirked Larry but Van didn't join in with their joking, just sat down beside you, looking at you with an intensity, a wounded look in his eyes, waiting for you to turn around, catch his eye. But you didn't. You were grinning along at the lads and their joking around, smirking at bondy who had knocked three shots back like tap water. Barely even shaking his head.

So by the time you did turn around, reaching for your drink which you would drink far too quickly, he was grinning along to one of Larry's jokes and to you it seemed as though he were blissfully unaware.

So you picked up a shot and necked it without asking what it was, screwing your face up because whatever it was it tasted like a lab experiment and it burnt as it went down. Still you felt the heat of it radiate through you and it felt good so you reached for another, smirking at Bondy when he raised his brows.

"These are disgusting," you giggled as you shook your head and winced after swallowing the second. Your laugh enough to draw your boyfriends attention in time to watch you pick up the double vodka, twirling the straw and stirring as you sipped at it with a leisurely sort of urgency.

"Slow down love you'll be on the floor..." he said half a grin half a sulk in his eyes.

"Mind your own," you shrugged back, dismissing him entirely much to the amusement of all your friends.

"Ooo pissy pissy," sniggered Larry and Blakes, Johnny sniggering along with them. Van only half laughing, his own eyes sullen and wounded still.

And that's how the night stretched out. Drink after drink went down easy, but it wasn't easy.

Every time you looked at him your heart ached a little and as the anger began to subside in you you noticed his frustration mellow to sorrow and self pity too.

He looked sad not angry.

You felt sad not angry too.

It was horrible sitting next to him, wanting to hold his hand but second guessing whether that was something he wanted you to do.

Tiring and wanting nothing more than to rest your head against his shoulder, tuck yourself under his arm and share his cigarette.

Usually by now he'd be teasing you, trying to make you blush by winding you up with the rest of the lads, taking the piss out of you, their usual friendly bullying tactics turned on you because you were the easiest to rile. But not tonight.

Tonight he was giving you the cold shoulder and you were hesitant even just to look at him.

You and Van didn't fight very often but when you did this was always how it played out. Sulks and sorrow.

Both of you too stubborn to relent or say sorry first.

So as much as you might have wanted to reach for his hand under the table you didn't. As much as you might have wanted to shuffle close to him and rest your head on his shoulder, you didn't.

Instead you sat stiffly beside him, feeling sorry for yourself as you stirred your third double and chewed your cheek. Listening to Johnny telling some ridiculous, must be made up, story.

"This is bullshit," you giggled, shaking your head at him in disbelief, losing yourself for a second addressing Van for the first time that evening, "Van tell him, this is such a lie!"

For a second he didn't respond, he'd been listening too but when you'd said his name and reached out to tap his shoulder and get his attention you'd shocked him. Suddenly he was uncertain, hed not expected you to talk to him until the morning. In truth you hadn't expected him to talk to you either.

But now you'd broken the silence with a stupid question and hed fallen for it.

"Aye no it is..." he nodded, corroborating Bondys story with a lie of his own, his smile all but set and stoney until your frown had softened, more inclined to believe Van than you had been his mate. But when you settled, when you looked like you believed him he split a grin too and let out a laugh.

"Nah of course it's a lie, the lids talking shite love," he grinned, your own smile slow to form with the shock of how happy he looked, lit up and playful, looking at you.

Like everything was fine. Like he wasn't angry, you hadn't hurt each other. Hadn't been screaming at each other only hours before.

Like there was no reason to be sad or shy.

Your eyes locked as you split a grin, giggling along, remembering where you were, remembering your company and as you bit back a smile you shoved your shoulder into Bondys with a giggle.

"You're a fuckin idiot Bond," you smiled feeling a little more settled than you had a moment before.

And as the conversation settled and Johnny finally gave in, hands in surrender admitting that the whole thing had on fact been made up, he hadn't been arrested for running through toon naked but for a pair of ice hockey shin guards, the rest of the group returned to their game and you settled into listening.

Though you couldn't concentrate anymore.

You couldn't concentrate because all you could feel was Van sitting beside you. The space between you. You couldn't focus on anything else then, tuning into his voice only as he started heckling Larry who was desperately trying to make his way through a ridiculous story you knew to be true.

You kept glancing over at Van, unable to keep your gaze from him for very long, shying away every time you felt you might get caught. Glancing back down at your drink or reaching for a cig instead of braving it and meeting his gaze.

He was gorgeous, even when you were pissed off with him, it was something which had always infuriated you. His contagious smile which always flashed mid argument. The contagious smile which was lighting him up just now.

You couldn't stop looking up at him but every time you felt his eyes on you you felt a teenage shyness and a blush on your cheeks and the longer it dragged out the more stubborn you became, forcing yourself not to look back at him. Eyes burning onto your empty glass of vodka which kept sipping at just to give yourself something to do.

And thats when you felt a foot catch yours under the table.

Just a little knock. Just one.

At first you thought it was accidental, you didn't even think it was him, but when it happened a second time and then a third you couldn't help but smile to yourself. Kicking his boot with yours, biting down a smile as you hid behind your empty glass and felt him kick you back.

And when you felt his hand creep up to yours, the warmth of his touch his fingers grazing over the top of yours, you felt yourself relax a little. A warmth which washed over you.

You glanced back at him and this time he caught your gaze. This time his held yours and you saw the warmth which sparked there between you.

There wasn't an argument that could come between you, not really.

It was in that moment, as his fingers wrapped around yours and you felt him squeeze your hand in his, that you knew everything would be alright. Everything was already right because you had each other and you always would.

"Think youve drunk the last of that," he leant across to you, smirking as he shocked you and pinched the glass from your hand before standing up. Leaving you blushing and looking up at him hesitant to stand and follow him to the bar.

When Bob stood up to help him however you felt a rush of panic in your chest, fearful that the moment you'd been longing for all night was about to be robbed from you and, with a little too much urgency for subtlety you stood sharply and smiled at him.

"It's reet Bob ill go, not got a round in all night like," you said, glancing back at Van as if to ask if that was alright. His grin boyish and full of pride when you took the hand he offered you and climbed over the back of the booth with him to get free of the table.

You stumbled slightly in your heels as you jumped from the empty chair to the floor, and when he caught you with his hands on your waist there was a moment of quiet. A stiffness. An awkwardness between you as he coughed and let you go and you felt lonely once again.

As you followed from behind you let your eyes wander over him, he looked good in his skinny jeans and his black sweater, one he'd owned for years but never seemed to look old on him.

He looked good leaning up against the bar, grinning away as he chatted to the lad behind the bar. One you both knew pretty well these days. He was gesturing to one of the bottles on the optics but you weren't concentrating on what he was saying. You were too wrapped up in your next move. Hesitant to do as you wanted. Hesitant but knowing that if you didn't you'd wander back to the table full of regret.

So you approached him slow and shy but when you reached him you stood on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling the comfort of his jumper and you let your cheek rest against his back and closed your eyes.

You felt him relax too, heard him let out a little laugh as he turned over his shoulder to look back at you.

"Not been back home long she's not quite fed up with me yet," he grinned at the lad behind the bar, "give it another couple days ey," he chuckled as the lad grinned along and turned away to pour the shots he'd ordered.

You smiled softly feeling his whole body relax, his shoulders settling for the first time that night as you placed the lightest of kisses against the back of his neck.

"What was that for?" he chuckled turning around to look down at you, his dimples twitching with an uncertain smile.

"Nothin," you said softly looking up at him a little shy, a smile of your own lingering uncertain too. "Sorry we argued," you said then, about to step away from him when his hand caught yours and his fingers began playing with yours.

"Aye am sorry too love," he said quietly then, not taking his eyes off you as he raised your hand to his lips and placed a kiss to your palm before turning back to the bar.

His hand held yours then and didn't let go as he watched the lad behind the bar begin work on the pints.

His thumb brushed over the centre of your palm and he tugged lightly on your arm, tugging you in close to him so that when he had you by his side he stepped back and trapped you between him and the bar, his arms around your shoulders holding you against him as you waited for your orders to come through.

You felt soft and safe in his arms, your own body relaxing for the first time in a long time, a smile flickering on your lips as he leant down to you and you felt his messy hair tickle your cheek. His lips grazing the skin by your ear as he spoke.

"Love you," he said before leaving a kiss on your cheek. Smiling when you smiled and tilted your head to catch his lips with yours.

"Love you too," you smiled, smiling into the kiss he pulled you in for then, his hand on your cheek, thumb brushing over your jaw in a moment of tenderness.

And when you pulled away, his eyes holding yours, you knew that everything would be fine as long as you loved each other.

And you did.

[courtlyharlequin]

Hey!! I was wondering if i can have a candied rose frappuccino with floyd please. Thanks 😊

Sugar Addict

Warning(s): mild spice, lowkey spicy ending

A/N: I went feral. What is plot? I ended up writing more than expected. Also, I was too lazy to proofread so I apologize for my horrible grammar. Feel free to correct me! I should probably get a beta reader... 

Context: This is an AU. Yes, a coffeeshop AU, but some things are different. These characters are aged up and NRC is actually a college.

It was unexplainable, this feeling. Twilight. The sun was setting. Traffic ensued streets as people poured out of work and into their vehicles, all with one destination: home. But for you, home was the last place you wanted to go. You were a student who did not need to fret over something like a job. You had the convenience of asking for a ride or traveling by foot to reach local destinations not far from your oh so prestigious school. At this moment, at twilight, you were experiencing the convenience of the latter. Well, a normal person would not call it a convenience. These days made taking a stroll an absurd pastime. But right now, it was both a convenience and a pastime. The roads were clogged by a massive sea of cars. Your nose crinkled at the stench of gasoline. Choosing to traverse by foot was more pragmatic. You were in a rush as well. Your destination might close any minute now!

From the inside of any of the vehicles on the street, you were akin to a hooligan. A scrambling, mad hooligan. Not only were you running in the opposite direction of where these cars were going, you were also running as your life depended on it. Therefore, you were a crazy person who was running into the city suburbs at a somewhat late hour rather than going home. Mothers in said vehicles shook their heads in dismay, praying their children were safe at home. But, you could not care any less. Night Raven College’s headmaster was very lenient on curfews and was susceptible to bribery if all else fails. But to be fair, your destination was not something to be frowned upon. It was something to laugh at, really. The place you were so desperate to get to was none other than a café.

More specifically, Café Rosé . Cheesy, chessy, yes, you were aware. The café was notorious for their supposed love potion of a latte, but you weren’t coming for that. You wanted to try their Candied Rose Frappuccino. You were a lover of all sweets; You could never live with yourself if you didn’t try it. Of course, this coffee shop was not going anywhere nor was this beverage a limited one. You simply were in the mood for it. It was craving, a whim, a last minute decision.

You sighed heavily, leaning against the café’s exterior walls. With one deep breath, you pushed the rose-tinted glass door open. The chime signaled your entrance. You braced yourself for a  barista to question your hazed, flushed state… but it never came. Still heaving, you scanned the shop. You made your way to the counter to check for employees in the back room.

Thud!

“Hey, Shrimpy! Café’s closed,” a voice glowered.

You spun your heel, making eye contact with a barista with a disheveled appearance– his aquamarine hair was slightly unkempt, his tie was unraveled and dangled loosely around his neck, dress shirt unbuttoned down to the point where his collar bone was exposed with his sleeves rolled up which furthermore accentuated his lean yet muscular figure. It was all too much to take in. He put his weight onto the nearest table. Ah, the thud came from a chair he just stacked… but nevermind that-!! The moment he moved into that position, he exposed a bit of his cleavage. Hot damn he might be lean at first glance, but he was built like a Greek god. This should be illegal! A barista should not be dressing– let alone be looking– like that. Everyone would suffer from a cardiac arrest from such a heartthrob! You quickly averted your attention to the café’s schedule.

“The business hours sign says you guys close at seven. It’s six fifty-two right now,” you said, holding up your phone.

“Close enough. Get lost.”

He walked over to you suavely, leaning over you and against the door frame to flip the open-closed sign over so that it’s closed side faced the streets. It was meant to be a gesture of mockery and intimidation, but holy hell… you were flustered more than anything. He was tall from afar but up close he was huge!! You even got a better look at his chest. Well defined, if you don’t say so yourself. Wait–

You shoved him back, “Not even for a to-go order?”

“Nope. Don’t feel like it.”

“But you’re not closed yet!”

“But I don’t wanna,” he whined.

“Why?”

“What?”

“I asked you ‘why’?”

“Can’t you just come back tomorrow and let me call it a day? I’m tired.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“I ran all the way here just to get something–”

“Should’ve done it earlier,” he shrugged, returning to his chore.

“Okay. Fine. Is there anyone else here to serve me? Since you’re too ‘tired’?”

“Sorry, Shrimpy, but they all went home.”

“Ugh! Don’t call me something that makes us seem so familiar. I’m not that short anyway...” you huffed.

He snickered, walking behind the register, “Alright then, Shr-im-p-y~! What would you like to order that you just had to come in at the last minute today?”

While you were relieved he gave into serving you a drink, the way he enunciated your unwanted nickname was irksome.

“I’ll have one Candied Rose Frappuccino.”

“Oh thank god it isn’t that latte.”

“You mean the Rosé Latte?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, loudly tapping on the cash register, “Everyone has been flocking here and only ordering that. I’m so tired of making the same order everyday.”

“Sorry, I’m not into hot beverages. Just a person who likes sweets.”

“Cute,” he cooed, handing you your receipt.

You watched as he messily wrote “Shrimpy” onto your cup.

“Can I get your name?” you asked.

“My name?”

“Yeah.”

“What for?”

“Somehow you’re slowly becoming my favorite barista.”

Partially a lie, partially the truth. He was your favorite because he was so fine. You only wanted his name in case you ever decided to write a review on your bitter first meeting with him or if you came across the manager. Petty, yes, but it annoyed you that much.

“Floyd, Floyd Leech,” he grinned.

You checked the receipt and sat down at the barstools in front of the barista’s worktable, watching him intently as he began to work on your order. Well, half your attention was actually on his hand movements. Your mind was having an internal battle about how shameful you were to fantasize about his back muscles, mentally undressing him. The fact that there were only you two in the coffeehouse did not help either. The silence, at its surface, was calming, but, at its core, it was awkward. With the occasional clinks of utensils and the sound of coffee being brewed and blended into a frappuccino,  the lack of noise left your mind to wander.

“Just because he’s good looking does not make up for the fact that he was rude,” you chided yourself.

Floyd cocked his head: “Hey. What are you staring at?”  

He looked behind him as if there was actually something of interest. You saw your drink in his hand. He held it close to his chest, withholding it, waiting for your answer.

“Oh? Um.. nothing? I was just zoning out. I’m tired from running all the way here.”

“Shrimpy’s no fun,” he pouted.

“My name is (y/n), not Shrimpy.”

“You’re short, jumpy, and huggable like a shrimp~”

“I am not that short!”

“Oh-!!! You remind me of Goldfish. You both get so mad for some reason,” he laughed.

“Listen here–”

The barista took a swig of your order. He didn’t take the dome-shaped lid out. He didn’t even drink it with a straw. He just… straight up… put his lips on the lid and drank the contents from the rim. You halted your rant, appalled by his audacity.

“You talk too much, Shrimpy.”

In this total silence, someone, if there were someone here, would have heard your sanity and patience snapped.

“Listen here, Floyd Leech. That was awfully rude of you. Actually, from the beginning, you were so rude! From getting into my personal bubble to calling me names when I told you to stop. And now you drink my order? And right in front of me too?! So, so, rude-!!! I just–”

“Wow. What an expansive vocabulary you have,” he glared, twiddling with the collar of his shirt and somehow exposing more of his collarbone.

You leaned over the counter, reaching for your beverage, heat traveling up your cheeks, “I’m not done yet! Just because you’re hot does not mean you can dress like that and automatically get a free pass to do these things! Do you have any idea how distracting that was?? Now–wHAAA!!”

You pounced at him. Your toes hung on the edge of the barstool, your left arm wrapped around Floyd’s neck, and your right arm stretched out in an attempt to reach the drink in Floyd’s hand. Much to your annoyance, he raised it higher than you could ever hope to reach. If he took anymore steps back, you would most likely flop onto the barista’s side of the table face-first. With the drink in his left hand, his weight (and yours) was shifted onto his right arm which conveniently propped itself against the countertop behind him. You wondered what people on the road thought when they saw what was going on inside the café.

It was early evening with a decent amount of cars on the street before the storefront. Nearly twenty minutes since you came into the café and here you are– without your order, curfew approaching steadily, and no sign of getting your frappuccino anytime soon. Instead, you were sprawled across the counter, a test of your flexibility and modesty.

“I didn’t really think Shrimpy was this bold, this naughty,” Floyd chuckled.

Ah shit. Your anger got the best of you. Your verbal filter was removed and all of your thoughts slipped past your conscious and common sense. His sly grin did not help at all. Your close proximity enhanced your blush. The way you clung onto him caused his shirt to slide off his left shoulder and with the position you were in, you had a front seat to all his glory. What a sticky wicket this was.

“I just wanted something sweet to drink,” you panted, fisting his shirt in your petite palms, frustration washing over you.

You were on the verge of tears. Floyd sighed, lowering the cup just a bit, and took a few steps back as he carefully let you slide onto the barista’s side of the counter. However, your beverage was still out of reach.

“You’re such a snowflake,” he mumbled.

You clung to him, still, using him as leverage to reach your order, “Am not. This wouldn’t have happened if you just let me have my coffee!”

“You mean this hell of a sugary confection??”

“Yes? I mean I wouldn’t know because I haven’t even tried it yet,” you grunted, jumping at it like a fish trying to catch the bait.

“Oi, (y/n), can I kiss you?”

That was the first time he used your actual name instead of “Shrimpy” ever since you met. You would rejoice, but the following words were out of the question. His tone made it sound more like a demand than a request of consent.

“Excuse me?!”

“You wanted to try the drink right?”

“Yes, but it’s right there in your hand! So if you would just let me have it, I’ll stop annoying you!”

“The taste is lingering in my mouth. It’s so sweet. I wanna get rid of it…”

“Get some water.”

He squeezed his right arm around your waist, bringing you closer to his face,  “But I want to kiss you~!”

“Well, since you drank out of it, if you let me have it, then we can have an indirect kiss!”

The temperature of the coffee shop was just unbearable at this point. And worst of all, this was self-inflicted. You didn’t have to tolerate him. Frankly, you should have left the moment he told you the café was “closed”.  You didn’t have to pounce on him and end up in this painstakingly uncomfortable position either. Moreover, you were sweating from embarrassment from your suggestion. An indirect kiss! That was such a childish thing to fret about and here you were, regretting your own words.

“That’s no fun,” Floyd said, taking another sip of your frappuccino.

“Hey–mmpff!!”

Despite how he manhandled you thus far, he kissed you very tenderly. His lips were soft, warm even. As much as you wanted to push him back and scold him for taking away something as precious as your first kiss, you couldn't. Everything just… felt right. Your grip on his shirt loosened. Before, you held them in your palms in anger, a way of intimidation, a sign to show him that you weren’t going to back down even if he was teasing you with no mercy. But now, you held Floyd’s collar to close the space between you two. You were this close to each other, but it wasn’t close enough.

You gasped as he nibbled your lip. Floyd took it upon himself to invite his tongue over to your wet cavern. A sugary substance flooded your taste buds. Ah… he never swallowed your drink.... Not that it mattered. You gulped it in one breath, continuing on with your tango of tongues. If Floyd wasn’t supporting your waist, you might’ve melted away into this temporary bliss. You momentarily broke away from him to catch your breath. The distance between you two was barely five centimeters. He growled lowly, taking two steps forward, pushing you towards the bar. He smashed his lips against yours, a clear sign for you not to do that again. A fire lit in his eyes. Floyd hungrily bit your bottom lip, earning a whimper in response.  Without breaking away from your mouth, only turning his head to take you at a different angle, he hoisted you up and set you and the beverage down on the countertop. Now, with both hands free, he cupped your cheeks. You responded by wrapping your legs around his waist and grabbing his wrists, drawing away his hands.

“W-Wait…” you exhaled.

“...did you not like that?” he cocked his head.

“No... No… I liked it… I liked it a lot… I just… S-Slow down…”

Floyd reached for the ends of your hair, twirling with the strand, “Take your time…”

Perhaps it was purely the heat of the moment or lust, but you judged him too soon. In this brief period of time, he was being considerate of you.  He traced your figure with his eyes, grinning from ear to ear at your bruised lips, bright pink from the dozens of kisses he gave you. You were just as disheveled as he was.

“...More..”

“You sure?”

“I’m thirsty,” you pouted.

Floyd let out a chortle before sipping your coffee, “Alright, then Shrimpy.”

You prepared yourself for yet another rough session. Before he took your lips, he smoothed back his hair, revealing his forehead. The gesture caught you off guard thus you stiffened as he brushed his lips against yours. By gods, it was as if he wasn't even trying to be provocative. Was it possible for someone to be this seductive without actual effort? At this rate, you were going to miss curfew..

“Floyd…” you moaned, intertwining your fingers with his as he pushed you down onto the counter.

“I’ll be gentle, don’t worry...”

“Floyd… No… T-There’s people watching-!!!”

“So?”

“Does that not bother you?!”

“Not when they’ll know you’re mine~”

You sat up, “I’m a bit too shy for that. A-And I would like for my first time to be private…”

You left the last part trail off in embarrassment, fiddling with his necktie which somehow managed to stay on his person despite everything that just happened.

“Oh? Is Shrimpy a virgin?” he teased.

“So what if I am?!”

“Nothing. Just thought a cute Night Raven College girl like you wouldn’t be since you were really good~”

He earned himself a playful smack on the shoulder to which he responded with a sarcastically scoff. This was so unfair...

“How did you know that I went there?”

“Hmm must be because of the shirt you’re wearing underneath that hoodie,” he said, feigning innocence.

Oh. He’s the perceptive type. You didn’t think much of his ministrations (other than them being tantalizing). It seemed that he took note of every detail about you. At this point, you were crimson as a tomato.

“Also, because I go there as well,” he snickered.

You smacked his shoulder once more.

“I’ve never seen you before.”

“Different years, probably.”

“Maybe..”

“Also, I’m always stuck at the Mostro Lounge so you can find me there,” he winked.

“Ahhh! Stop doing that!”

“Doing what?”

“Giving me two answers and mixed signals.”

Floyd tilted your head upwards and pecked your lips, holding you as if you were a figure of glass: “What about this is mixed?”

“You were terribly rude before… and you probably just want someone to bed with for the night,” you puffed your cheeks.

How your body was betraying you… Your legs were still wrapped around his waist and the fervor was not going to dissipate anytime soon.

“I’ll have you know that I’ve had my eyes on you for a long time, (y/n).”

He raised your hand and pressed a chaste kiss on each individual knuckle.

Oh god. Your heart couldn’t bear it anymore. The way your name rolled off the tip of his tongue made honey taste like summer– hot, overwhelming, but still something to look forward to.

“Since when?” you exhaled.

“Since your first visit to the Lounge.”

He switched to your other hand, continuing the ritual.

“I’ve only been there once.”

“You were such a cute Shrimpy that I couldn’t forget about you~”

“That can’t be right–”

“You just have to accept it!”

“It doesn’t make up for how you treated me before.”

He placed your hands on his cheek, “Sorry, Shrimpy. The scent you released was too irresistible.”

Instinctively, you sniffed your clothes, “I don’t smell anything.”

“It might be just an eel thing*, then. But just so you know, I’ve been trying to find you for a while now. I’m so happy that I did. You’re mine now, Shrimpy. Your smell is intoxicating,” he cooed, leaning closer to your ear, “It makes me go feral~”

You squealed at his sudden remark, unable to regain your composure. Your words melted into gibberish and murmurs as you buried your face into his chest once more.

“You’re such a creep,” you whined.

“You don’t mean that~”

“I don’t…”

“We should get going before curfew though. Help me clean up, will ya?”

“Okay.”

Floyd planted a kiss on your forehead, “Thank you, Shrimpy.”

That nickname wasn’t as obnoxious as it was before, huh.

“I’ll reward you once we get to my room,” he snickered over his shoulder as he left for the back room.

Wait– WHAT?!?!?

“H-Hold on-!!”

“Relax, Shrimpy, ’m not gonna do anything to you… not yet, anyway. I’m just sayin’ in case we don’t make it before curfew.  Azul needs me for Mostro Lounge tomorrow, he has no choice, but to let me in. If anyone can convince the headmaster, it’s probably him,” he gave you a thumbs up.

“Good to know. But… I’ve been meaning to ask about Mostro Lounge and this café. If you work for Azul then why work here too?”

“He doesn’t pay me. I’m just helping out of obligation.”

“What? How come?”

“He’s my friend?”

“You sound unsure.”

“You made it sound like I’m gullible,” he laughed, stacking the last of the chairs.

“Well? Shall we go, Shrimpy?”

You took his hand without hesitation. This feeling– it was addicting. You only knew him for a less than a day, but it felt right. It felt meant to be... as if you were soulmates. 

Bonus:

“Oya? Floyd, what happened to your back? There’s scratches all over it. Are you alright?”

“ s’nothin’, Jade. I just… had a fun night~”

“Please. You and (y/n) were so loud. Please reserve those kinds of activities for somewhere more private– not a dormitory with thin walls,” Azul chided.

His brother’s eyes widened, but he didn’t question it any further. Jade curtly closed his gym locker and headed out towards the field.

Azul followed in suit with a huff. 

* Note: Female moray eels release an odor in order to attract males to mate with them

[pasteljeon]

don’t need ur love (m)

❥ pairing: ot7/reader

❥ warnings: some vague descriptions of sex, just really angsty sorry :(

❥ based on this prompt: bts being in a relationship with y/n but then slowly all of them fell out of love with her and with another girl. from @/armyforlifelove :”)

❥ summary: four lessons on love.

❥ notes: exams are finally over so i’m super excited to share my upcoming projects soon <3 i hope you enjoy this little ficlet and lmk what you think!

.

.

.

One. Love is fickle.

There is not one boy, there are seven.

“Jimin, I’m not angry. I don’t blame you. You don’t feel the same for me anymore. I accept that. I can’t do anything about it, and I’m not going to sink down and beg you to love me. I know my own worth. I am worth loving, I am worth being cherished and treasured.” You give his cheek one last fond pat, smiling lopsidedly as you pick up the handle of your suitcase.

His lips are downturned, eyebrows pinched and body stiff.

They watch with mirroring expressions of guilt and sorrow as you give the place a final, lingering sweep. But there is also relief and gratitude. You have never been the petty type, never been vindictive. You have always been the mature one, the fun one, the level-headed one.

You say, “Thank you for the memories. I’ll see you around.”

Jimin opens his mouth, like he’s ready to apologize again, but all that comes out is an uncertain, “You too.”

The penthouse is the same as always, clothes scattered on couches and loveseats and hung over the dining table chairs. Yeontan’s toys lying in a pile next to his little bed. Your mug, your clothes, your books and papers, they’re all gone. It’s like you were never here.

The door shuts quietly.

.

.

.

You fall in love in summer.

They pluck you from the crowd, these gorgeous boys, and they carve a space in your heart and fill it with them, until your chest feels so full and warm.

You’re happy for a long time. Winters pass. Spring blooms, so lovely and sweet and it makes your nose itch. They’re soft and kind and their touch is reverent, sometimes bold and daring and always loving.

Then it stops.

He’s distant, shifty-eyed and avoids you like the plague. Slowly, they all become just as detached. And you realize.

Time’s up.

He cries and cries and begs for forgiveness, he buries his face in your stomach and his hands are shaky and cold. He’s sorry, he sobs. He’s sorry he fell in love with someone else.

Yeah, you think. You’re sorry too, because you could have saved yourself from it if you’d only looked hard enough.

Taehyung is the only one that stays with you that night. You send Jimin away, too anguished and defeated to comfort him.

He’s the last one, the one whose heart still flutters when he talks to you, touches you. But you know. You know that eventually, he will leave too.

He kisses your tears away and he holds you close, murmuring sweet nothings until you finally fall into fitful sleep, and his stomach hurts, hurts so much with the way you’re curled into him, so small and fragile, clutching at his shirt as your eyes flicker with whatever dream you’re having.

And he swears he’ll never let you go, never betray you.

.

.

.

“It didn’t break me. How could it? I loved them so much, yes, but this isn’t the end. It’s not the be all end all. It can’t be. I believe that there’s more out there.” You stare into the dark contents of your drink, your reflection rippling across the surface as you trace the handle absently.

The person across from you watches you with a startlingly intense gaze, fingers crossed as they lean in, arms braced on the table.

“It was like … there was a bullet to my heart and a hole in my chest, and sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night drowning in anguish and tears burning in my eyes and cheeks wet. Sometimes it’s a struggle to breathe when I think of them, when I do something that reminds me so vividly of them.”

.

.

.

Two. Love is painful.

There were seven boys, now there is only one.

You press your forehead against his. Your voice is soft, your breath is warm and your words are sweet. He thinks he’s dying. Your ache is palpable, your grief burns, lighting a dull pain travels, throbbing and expanding, at the base of his spine.

“It’s weird because it’s not like you wake up one day with this sudden revelation that you’ve fallen out of love. It happens slowly, over a period of time, when the things you did before and the things you liked about your partner no longer holds the same charm. Suddenly, the small things that had made you fall so hard for them are annoying. Their laugh is too loud, too ugly. They leave their utensils in the sink, they forget to separate the lights with the darks They look … ordinary. Just like everyone else you pass on the street. Suddenly, they’re just … somebody. Just not somebody to you.”

“It’s okay, Taehyung. You loved me, and that was enough.”

He sobs out a garble that sounds like your name. He puts a hand over his face, shame and guilt overwhelming him like a tide that threatens to choke the life out of him completely.

You pry them away gently, and you kiss him. It’s wet and uncoordinated, lips slick and salty with your mingled tears.

You stumble into the bedroom, and he presses you against the mattress, hands heavy and hot as he makes love to you one last time. He pours everything into it, everything you’ve been through together, everything he feels for you. Slowly, slowly, because he’s saying goodbye. For real this time, because he can never look back without this weight of failure and guilt.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, he chants, like a broken record, he sears the movement of his lips into your skin and you bear the scar even as you close the chapter for good.

.

.

.

Three. Love changes you.

“But then it starts to fade. The hurt, it lessens with every day that passes. The tightness in your chest loosens and the world starts to regain some of its colour, your body begins to stomach more, your taste buds remind you that food can taste brilliant.”

You find retain old habits and find new hobbies. You reconnect with old friends, make new ones. You go out for dinner, drinks, dessert, the movies, to their houses for barbeque, the skating rink, rollerblading, the occasional club. Not all at once, never in quick succession, but you go when called, go when you ask.

You are reminded that you still have a life outside of the all-consuming romance.

You learn how to draw the perfect wing, you shop, you redecorate, you work, and at the end of the year, you take a two-week vacation to travel somewhere new. You take pictures, write stories, finish your thesis and you graduate.

You enjoy your life.

You still see them, on billboards, TV shows, concerts, YouTube videos, articles, your friends buzz with news about them, at first hesitantly and apologetically, now eagerly and excitedly.

You are proud of them, of where they’ve come, where they are, who they are and what they’ve accomplished. They are an inspiration, legends, and you are grateful to have shared a part of your life with them, to have been born in the same era as them, because this universe makes no mistakes.

And you move on.

You are living.

.

.

.

Four. Love is worth it.

It is worth every tear, the anger and sorrow, the loss and the sacrifice.

And sometimes, the world works in mysterious ways.

Sometimes, you go full circle, only to end up where you should have been from the very beginning.

“Is it too late, have we been through too much, have I lost you? Is it unfair for me to ask if we could start again? The moment you left, I knew … I knew I’d given up something good. Something beautiful and I wasn’t ready to commit, couldn’t see all that I had in front of me. I was foolish, I was … a coward.” He reaches out to touch your hand gingerly, barely a graze, gauging your expression. You don’t move, and he curls his fingers over your palm.

“I thought … I thought that it was natural for me to follow, I thought I felt something for her, but I was wrong, I was so wrong. God, you have no idea how much I hated myself for hurting you like that. I … I love you, I have loved you all this time, and I miss you. I miss your smile, your laugh, the way you hold me, the way you touch me, the way you can comfort me with just your presence. I miss the way you loved me. I missed … you. I miss the colour of your soul.”

“So, I was wondering. If it isn’t too late, if we haven’t been through too much, if I haven’t lost all of you yet, would it be fair to ask you to start over again with me?” His warmth is familiar, his eyes are a burnished gold and the truth is, you are strangers. So much time has passed, he looks a ghost from the past, he talks like him, walks like him, still hates bitter things like him, but he’s not him anymore. You know this because his expression is wiser, he has looked in the mirror and found himself and he is ready to try again. To do better, to dare to become someone better.

But is it too late? Are you ready for the risk of your heart being broken all over again?

Isn’t life a game of risk and reward?

You squeeze his hand gently. “I would like that.”

Taehyung beams. His smile is still boxy, his jaw line sharper, silky hair permed, and it flops over his forehead. He looks older, is older. He pushes the black locks back and strokes his thumb over your knuckles. He’s more comfortable in his own skin, you think his chest is wider, shoulders broader.

“Can I buy you a coffee?”

[bevioletskies]

please don’t say you love me

summary: Sometimes, Kazuma thinks about removing his gloves so he can finally touch Ryunosuke’s hand like he so desperately wants to. Other times, he thinks Ryunosuke would never let him, even if he did.

word count: 5.3k | read on ao3

a/n: For @asoryuu-week​, day one of seven (prompt: “pining”). This fic takes place post-Resolve; mild spoiler warning for Adventures and Resolve, where events may be alluded to but not described in detail. All names and honorifics are taken from the official localization, with the exception of Haori, Sherlock, and Iris.

Fic title is from the song Please Don’t Say You Love Me by Gabrielle Aplin.

“Well done, Kazuma. You were incredible as always, though I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that.”

Kazuma turned at the sound of Ryunosuke’s voice, startling slightly when he realized how close Ryunosuke had gotten, having crossed the now-empty courtroom to approach the prosecutor’s bench with an outstretched hand and a friendly grin. Behind him, Kazuma could see Susato at the defense bench, diligently organizing the last of her case notes, though she seemed to be sneaking wary glances in his direction, the kind of glances she’d been giving him ever since she and Ryunosuke had returned to London. Kazuma supposed, somewhat bitterly, that he deserved it.

“And the same to you, of course,” Kazuma replied, chuckling softly. He took Ryunosuke’s proffered hand in his gloved one, shaking it firmly. For a moment, he wondered if Ryunosuke’s hands were as calloused as they used to be, thanks to his old dedication to kyudo; he couldn’t tell with his gloves on. “Only you would notice such trivial details in someone’s description of their meal and turn it into conclusive evidence.”

Ryunosuke let out a sheepish laugh of his own. “Yes, well...I’ve had more than my fair share of English breakfasts by now, thanks to Iris, so...it’s only natural.” He let go of Kazuma’s hand, turning briefly to check on Susato before looking back with another broad smile. Kazuma felt a pang in his chest that was becoming more and more frequent with every encounter they had. “Are you returning to your office, then?”

“Business as usual, yes,” Kazuma said, nodding. His lips parted slightly - if you want me to stay, you need only ask, he wanted to say - before deciding against it. “Why?”

“Ah - it’s nothing, really,” Ryunosuke said, shaking his head. “Susato-san was hoping you’d be able to join us for tea back at our office, but, uh...I’m sure you have paperwork and such to attend to. Perhaps this weekend, if you’re not too busy? Iris has been testing out new blends - as she does - and she could always use new testers.”

Is that the only reason you’re asking? “Sounds like fun,” Kazuma said, smiling in return. “When should I stop by?”

“I’d have to confirm with the others to be sure, but Saturday morning around ten-thirty sounds about right,” Ryunosuke replied. “You could even stay for lunch if you’d like. Mr Holmes has been asking after you, wanting to know how you’ve been.”

Kazuma slipped both hands behind his back so he could clench his fists, his fingernails leaving welts in his palms despite the thickness of his gloves. “And yourself? What do you want?”

Ryunosuke frowned. “Pardon?”

Kazuma exhaled slowly. “...never mind. If I don’t have any prior engagements, then I’ll be there.” He turned away, though not quickly enough, still catching the way Ryunosuke’s face fell. He would’ve thought Ryunosuke would try to better conceal his emotions by now, just so his face wouldn’t be a constant giveaway in court, but he was still the same endearingly expressive person that Kazuma had...no. No, now wasn’t the time to think about it, about the feelings he tried not to associate with his best friend. Even the word “partner” seemed to catch in his throat every now and then, what with how desperately he wanted it to carry more than one meaning.

“He’s not coming, then?” Kazuma heard Susato ask, hushed. “That’s too bad. Another time, perhaps?”

“I...wouldn’t get your hopes up, Susato-san,” Ryunosuke said quietly, though not quietly enough. “Though I did invite him round for tea, Saturday morning. We’ll see if he gets caught up in any ‘prior engagements’, I suppose.”

“Yes, I...I suppose,” Susato agreed, albeit uncertainly. Kazuma swallowed, then turned fully on his heel so he could quickly gather up the rest of his things. The air in the courtroom suddenly felt thicker than it did during the entirety of the trial, threatening to choke him and rob him of his last breath, and he wasn’t about to let it wrap its hands around his throat.

_____

“It’s a shame you weren’t able to join us this past Saturday, Kazuma-sama,” Susato said, her tone as perfectly polite as always. Her expression, on the other hand, was solemn, almost as if she’d come to his office to deliver some bad news. “Iris and Mr Holmes were hoping to spend more time with you, get to know you a little bit better. Naruhodo-san and I speak so highly of you, after all.”

Kazuma looked up from his work, offering her a bland smile. “My apologies, Susato-san, I’d been sent away on assignment. Did you get my telegram?”

“Oh, yes, but that doesn’t keep me from feeling...disappointed,” Susato said delicately, though it was a bit more candid of her than he’d expected. Her eyes drifted away from his for a moment so she could look around, taking in the sparseness of Kazuma’s office. It was nowhere near as magnanimous as Lord van ZIeks’s, no enormous portrait or endless supply of wine to be found. Most of his decorations were some of his old things he’d requested Professor Mikotoba bring over from Japan; otherwise, there was little else but a few tables, chairs, and cushions.

“Are you wanting to criticize my design sense, Susato-san?” Kazuma teased, setting down his pen. “I spend most of my hours either in the field or in the courtroom, so this office is hardly a priority for me.”

“Ah,” Susato said. She then said nothing else. A deeply uncomfortable silence settled over them, the kind neither of them were used to sharing with one another. “Naruhodo-san is - ”

“How is - ” They both let out awkward chuckles; Kazuma motioned for her to continue, but she shook her head, insistent that he go first. “I was about to ask after Ryunosuke, actually. I haven’t seen him since last week.”

“He’s got a bit of a cold, actually,” Susato confessed. “It seems that chasing a petty thief on foot in the dead of night - during a rainstorm, no less - wasn’t one of Naruhodo-san’s brightest ideas - ”

“What?!” Kazuma’s voice echoed throughout the nearly empty room. “Is - is he alright? Will he be alright?”

“Nothing a bit of rest and medicine can’t fix,” Susato replied, her eyebrows knitting together. “I must ask, Kazuma-sama - where has all this concern for Naruhodo-san’s well-being come from?”

Kazuma stared at her for a beat, flabbergasted. “...am I not allowed to ask after my best friend’s health?”

“Your best friend who you barely care to see?” Susato asked sharply. It was only because of their familiarity that Kazuma was able to tell that she was simmering with anger now, not yet boiling, a different kind of anger than the one that usually ended with someone being flipped onto their back. “When my father asked Naruhodo-san and I if we would be interested in accompanying him back to London for work, do you know the first thing Naruhodo-san said to me after we accepted?”

“...no,” Kazuma said slowly.

“He said to me, ‘we should write to Kazuma and let him know we’re coming’,” Susato continued. “So, we did. And you never wrote back. Nor did you come to see us when we arrived.” Her eyes narrowed even further. “Forgive me, Kazuma-sama, for speaking so straightforwardly, but this...detachedness, it seems to have become a habit of yours, and neither of us understand why.”

Kazuma took a moment to inhale, then exhale slowly as he gathered his thoughts. Then, he managed another false smile. “You’ve become bolder with age, Susato-san. I still remember the days when you were nervous about simply knocking on my door and interrupting my studies.” His expression then grew serious, mirroring hers. “Now, if I may be straightforward, I think you’re seeing things that aren’t there. I’ve just been busy, that’s all. Work has increased tenfold for me since I became an official prosecutor, which neither of you were around to see.”

The bitterness in his voice wasn’t lost on Susato. “Kazuma-sama,” she murmured, bowing her head so he wouldn’t see her tear up. “I...I can only imagine how lonely you’ve been, being in a foreign country all on your own. But if you were wanting company, you know you only need to ask.” She then lifted her head to look at him sternly. “...or accept one of Naruhodo-san’s many invitations.”

“I…” Kazuma was at a loss for words. “...yes, I know. I know perfectly well.”

“Then why haven’t you?” Susato asked. “It would make Naruhodo-san so happy if you were to join us for tea or lunch or even dinner!”

“Susato-san,” Kazuma warned, knowing exactly what she was beginning to hint at. Even with her penchant for politeness, he could tell she was dying to say what was really on her mind now. “Don’t - ”

“And he wants you to be happy, too,” Susato continued fiercely. “We all do. So please, don’t distance yourself from us. We would love to have you at Baker Street, we really would.” She then stood, bowing deeply once more. When she straightened up, her eyes were bright with determination. “...if you intend to tell him your true feelings someday, Kazuma-sama, this is not the path you should be taking.”

Kazuma let out a small, exasperated huff of breath. “It seems I made a mistake when I told you about them instead.”

“I’d never seen you look so thrilled before,” Susato said with a bittersweet smile. “Tripping over your own feet, words spilling from your mouth like water...Father and I could barely get a word in edgewise. It took us far too long to realize you were talking about a classmate who’d just bested you in the speech competition you’d been preparing for weeks - ”

“Susato-san, I really don’t have the time to reminisce with you,” Kazuma said curtly, also getting to his feet. “I apologize for my rudeness, but I do need to return to my paperwork before Lord van Zieks comes looking for it.”

“My apologies for inconveniencing you, Kazuma-sama,” Susato replied, though she really didn’t sound all that sorry. “Until we meet again, then.”

Later, Kazuma found himself unable to concentrate on his work, still thinking of Susato’s parting remarks long after she’d left. He’d felt so full of hope back then, equal parts infuriated and inspired by Ryunosuke’s inferior (in Kazuma’s opinion, anyway) speech. His words, his message, had lacked the impact that Kazuma’s speech would’ve had, had he managed to finish it the way he intended, but the power in which he spoke them still resonated with Kazuma even now.

“The path I should be taking,” Kazuma murmured to himself, drumming his fingers against his desk. “...right.”

_____

Not even one week later, Kazuma was attending to a crime scene - a bakery, whose sweet scents were making his mouth water - when he heard a surprised cry from behind. “Ah - Kazuma!”

Kazuma took a deep breath, then, turned slowly on his heel. “Good morning, Ryunosuke,” he said, pointedly ignoring the raised eyebrow Gina offered him that he only just noticed out of the corner of his eye. “Judicial Assistant Mikotoba told me about your cold a few days ago; are you better now?” He cleared his throat. “I, ah - I see your nose is still pink.” It took all of Kazuma’s willpower not to comment on the obvious rosiness of Ryunosuke’s cheeks as well.

Ryunosuke ducked his head, embarrassed. “Yes, I - I’m on the mend, thankfully. Susato-san has been taking good care of me - forcing me to take my medicine and all that.” Even though he knew Ryunosuke’s words were perfectly platonic, Kazuma still felt a flicker of jealousy surge in his chest. “She’ll be joining us shortly; she was with her father and Haori-san at Bart’s when I took the case.”

Kazuma hummed noncommittally, turning back to address Gina and the officers that were surveilling the scene. It was only when he finished that he realized Ryunosuke was still standing in the doorway, as if he were waiting for permission to enter the building. “I have no issue with you looking around, Ryunosuke, you know that,” Kazuma reassured him. “Just don’t touch anything.”

“Yes, I know,” Ryunoske said, finally taking his first few steps across the threshold. “Actually, I...I was hoping to speak with you in private before Susato-san gets here.”

For a moment, Kazuma’s heart seemed to stop. “What about?” he asked, as neutrally as he could manage. Gina’s eyebrows remained sky-high, though mercifully, she seemed more interested in eavesdropping than interrupting. In lieu of responding, Ryunosuke stepped back outside again, motioning for Kazuma to follow. He did, albeit somewhat irritably. “What’s going - ”

“Have we wronged you somehow?” Ryunosuke interrupted; Kazuma didn’t like how desperate he sounded. “Have we done something to make you push us away?”

“Why would you - ”

“I spent the last few days in bed, and I had a lot of time to think. Perhaps too much time to think,” Ryunosuke admitted.

Kazuma folded his arms across his chest, defensive. “Your point being…”

Ryunosuke took in a deep breath, his eyes squeezed shut as if he were in pain. “You’ve always been...blunt, Kazuma. I’ve always admired your ability to get right to the heart of the matter. But it seems that ever since Susato-san and I returned to London, you’ve been so...so cold.” When he opened his eyes, they were suspiciously glossy. “When we left over a year ago, you were smiling and laughing like you used to. We exchanged dozens of letters, talking about our lives, our respective paths in our respective legal systems, and I...I thought you’d be happy to see us again. Instead, you treated us like complete strangers.”

Once again, Kazuma found himself stunned into silence. Though nothing Ryunosuke was saying surprised him, it still felt as if he’d driven a sword through Kazuma’s heart. “Ryunosuke, I - ”

“I know Susato-san came to see you in your office the other day,” Ryunosuke continued, his voice stronger now. “She told me about your conversation; I told her she was too selfless. That she shouldn’t have spoken of my happiness, but of hers. You know how much she admires you. How much she wishes that you would just - just talk to us again.”

Kazuma lowered his head, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts, his heart pounding in his throat. He carefully unclasped his shaking hands so he could hold them behind his back, then straightened up, chin lifted a fraction higher than it should have been. Ryunosuke’s hands were trembling, too. “...did she tell you everything about our conversation?”

Ryunosuke frowned. “Sorry? I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I just mean that she has a different...understanding of the situation than you do,” Kazuma replied, internally wincing at his phrasing; the last thing he intended to do was offer nothing but vague statements and anger Ryunosuke even further. These days, however, it seemed like he could do nothing but incense the people he cared about most.

“Then help me understand,” Ryunosuke pleaded. His eyes then widened. “Wait, you’re not...Kazuma, you’re not in trouble again, are you? Is someone - has there been - ”

“Nothing like that, I promise,” Kazuma said quickly, feeling guiltier by the second. “I don’t mean to condescend to you, Ryunosuke, but this really isn’t the time or place to be having this conversation. Can we...another time, perhaps?”

“I’m sorry for my lateness, Naruhodo-san, there was a bit of a - oh.” They both turned to see Susato standing on the sidewalk, staring at them dumbfoundedly. Then, she bowed, having managed to rearrange her stunned expression back into a neutral one. “Forgive me for interrupting, Naruhodo-san...Kazuma-sama. Please, carry on.”

“You weren’t interrupting anything, Susato-san,” Ryunosuke replied, smiling faintly. He glanced in Kazuma’s direction, his eyes heartbreakingly resigned. “Another time, yes. I like nothing more than standing around and waiting for you to finally decide whether you care about us at all.”

“N-Naruhodo-san!” Susato gasped, stunned. “What on earth are you - what are you saying?” Ryunosuke merely shook his head, gesturing for her to follow him into the bakery. Susato shot Kazuma one last bewildered look before heading inside, leaving him completely alone. Kazuma, on the other hand, took a moment to stifle the frustrated cry that threatened to escape him before trailing after them, his head still held a little too high.

_____

On the evening following the trial’s conclusion, Kazuma found himself on the doorstep of 221B Baker Street, trembling. It wasn’t particularly cold, but he seemed unable to stop shaking, his fists clenched and shoved tightly into his coat pockets. Reluctantly, he lifted one hand to the door, then, after hesitating for some time, knocked. What felt like seconds later, he was promptly pulled inside by the iron grip of an eleven-year-old girl.

“Oh - ”

“Good evening, Kazzy!” Iris said cheerily as she closed the front door, oblivious to how much emotional whiplash - and maybe literal whiplash - she’d just given him. They’d only met a handful of times, but her sweet nature was usually a welcome distraction, a balm for his unsettled mind. “I didn’t know you’d be stopping by. If I did, I would’ve had a fresh pot of tea waiting for you! Though it’s not too late for me to start if you’d like.”

“That’s alright, Iris, I’m fine without, but thank you,” Kazuma said politely. “I was hoping to talk to Ryunosuke and Miss Susato, are they in?”

“Yes, you can go right on up,” Iris nodded. Then, she frowned. “But if I hear shouting, you’re going to have to leave. Understood?”

“I - yes, of course,” Kazuma promised, taken aback. “I’ll, er...I’ll be heading up now, then.”

When he entered the attic, Susato was drawing the curtains for the night, humming idly to herself. Ryunosuke, on the other hand, was half-leaning against his desk, one hand propped up behind him on its surface, the other holding a document up to his eyes, brow furrowed in concentration. Karuma was sitting diligently on his hip, as always. For a moment, Kazuma simply stood there, lingering at the top of the stairs while he admired Ryunosuke’s side profile; he’d always loved the sharp angle of his jaw, the slight upturn of his nose. It reminded him of the first time he really saw Ryunosuke, standing on that stage, speaking with an unwavering passion that Kazuma had been holding on to ever since.

It was Susato who noticed him first. Unlike last time, she didn’t look surprised at all. If anything, she looked tired. “Good evening, Kazuma-sama,” she said with a wan smile. Ryunosuke, oddly enough, was staring at him with a completely neutral expression; it scared Kazuma more than he thought it would. “I didn’t know you were coming to see us. If I had, I would have prepared some - ”

“Yes, tea,” Kazuma said impatiently, flinching when Susato leveled him with a cold stare. “Ah - sorry, Susato-san, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I, er…” He cleared his throat, straightening up. “If now isn’t a bad time, I’d like to talk to both of you about...well, we all know why I’m here.”

Susato pursed her lips, thinking. “I think it would be best if you and Naruhodo-san spoke alone first, Kazuma-sama. Perhaps you could clear the air about...more than a few things. Only then do I want you to explain yourself to me, with no detail spared.”

Now Ryunosuke looked startled, an expression Kazuma was much more familiar with. “What? What do you mean?” But Susato merely patted him reassuringly on the arm before disappearing into her bedroom, pointedly shutting the door behind her. “Er...Kazuma?”

“Do you mind if we…” Kazuma gestured towards Susato’s tea set. Nodding, Ryunosuke knelt on the floor, where Kazuma knelt opposite. Even now, his legs shook like they were going to give out beneath him. “I know...I know that you’re both very angry with me. I’ve been distant, I won’t deny it. Deliberately so.”

“Did you not want us to come back?” Just like that, another dagger through the heart. “Is that what it was? You, you wanted us to keep our distance, to stay in Japan?”

“Ryunosuke, I…” Kazuma was speechless. “That’s not…”

“That’s the only plausible reason, if I really think about it,” Ryunosuke continued, rubbing his chin thoughtfully like he always did. “Susato-san, she...she theorized that you were feeling lonely. Perhaps our presence has only made you feel lonelier, since it only serves as a reminder that we’ll be leaving again someday. Is - is that it?”

Kazuma opened his mouth, but he couldn’t find the words he wanted to say. It was cliché, he supposed, to think that Ryunosuke was capable of twisting his tongue in a metaphorical sense, too. “You really are more perceptive than people give you credit for, Ryunosuke,” Kazuma finally managed to say with a harsh laugh. “But...you’re also a bit wide of the mark this time.”

“Oh,” Ryunosuke said, disappointed. “Then...help me understand. I...I understood why you were acting so strangely back when...well. And why you felt like you couldn’t talk to us. But this time, short of you harboring another big secret, I can’t really think of anything else. Aside from you no longer caring about us anymore, I mean, and if that’s true, then…” He trailed off, shivering.

“Ryunosuke,” Kazuma repeated, stunned. “No, that’s - that’s not it, either, it’s...it’s...”

“Then what?!” Ryunosuke whisper-shouted, eyes blazing with frustration. Kazuma suspected he wasn’t even aware of how close he’d gotten, how much he’d leaned forward so their noses were practically brushing, his hands braced on either side of Kazuma’s knees. “Why are you being so - ”

“ - I’minlovewithyou.”

Ryunosuke stared at him, dumbfounded. “I...I don’t think I heard you correctly. You’re - you - you what?” Kazuma suddenly felt the urge to throw up. He sat there, frozen, silently cursing his own impulsiveness. Then, he shook himself out of his stupor, clumsily scrabbling backward, away from Ryunosuke, hands and knees dragging across the hardwood floor, just stopping short of hitting his head on the underside of Susato’s desk. His breath was coming in short pants; he lifted a freshly scraped hand to clutch at his thundering chest, willing himself not to vomit right then and there. “Kazuma - ”

“Wait, don’t - ”

“You love me?” Ryunosuke said hoarsely, like he was afraid he’d heard him wrong. “That’s - that’s what you said, isn’t it? That you love me?” Kazuma swallowed, knowing he was well and truly cornered now. He nodded wordlessly, face burning hot with shame, unable to remember the last time he’d embarrassed himself this badly.

“You...you were right, in a way,” Kazuma murmured, his voice unusually small. “Exchanging letters and reminiscing about old times was one thing...getting to see your smiling face again was another. It...reminded me of how far you’ve come, how much both of you have grown, while I feel...stuck, in a way.”

“Stuck?” Ryunsouke echoed confusedly.

“I wasn’t...envious, exactly. Just bitter, resentful, angry, but...only at myself. Still, in your presence, I felt nothing but contradictory feelings. Feelings that I...that I didn’t want to come to light.” Then, Kazuma shook his head. “But that’s no excuse for how I’ve been acting, I know that. I truly am sorry.” He managed to pull himself back in a kneeling position, then bowed completely forward, his nose pressed into the floor. “Naruhodo-san - ”

“You don’t have to go that far,” Ryunosuke protested.

“ - I should have put an end to my behavior long before I hurt you and Susato-san,” Kazuma finished. “I’m sorry.”

To Kazuma’s surprise, Ryunosuke huffed out a noise that sounded halfway between a sob and a laugh. “There’s no need to be this dramatic, Kazuma, though I suppose it is you. Sit up for me, will you? I think you’ve managed to injure yourself in three different ways since you arrived.” Cowed, Kazuma obeyed his orders, belatedly realizing that he had hit his head on the back of Susato’s desk - that explained the stinging sensation - and he’d bruised the end of his nose, too. Clicking his tongue, Ryunosuke stood so he could grab a few things from the shelf behind his desk, then knelt directly in front of Kazuma. “Your palms look terrible. Are your knees scraped as well?”

“Never mind that,” Kazuma said, clearing his throat. He still felt uneasy despite the huge weight that had been lifted off his shoulders; everything felt off-balance, like something was about to come crashing down. “Do you forgive me, Naruhodo-san?”

“I don’t know, Asogi-san, do I?” Ryunosuke retorted mockingly, quick as he pleased, though all his frustration from earlier seemed to have dissipated now, replaced with what almost seemed like mild amusement. He then rolled up the hems of Kazuma’s pants, wincing at the redness of his knees. Kazuma silently watched while Ryunosuke tended to his scrapes and bruises, still waiting with bated breath. His heart fluttered pathetically when he caught sight of Ryunosuke’s expression, the way his nose scrunched up and his tongue poked out in concentration. “...this conversation has taken a strange turn, hasn’t it?”

“It would feel less strange if you answered me,” Kazuma replied with a faint smirk. “Don’t keep me in suspense, Ryunosuke. This isn’t the courtroom, after all.”

“Now that sounds more like the Kazuma I know,” Ryunosuke teased. “You’ve been so formal these past few minutes, I was starting to worry you’d been replaced with an overly polite look-alike.” He moved closer, his half-lidded eyes lifting to lock with Kazuma’s. “Ah - it seems you’ve somehow bruised your lip as well.”

Kazuma frowned. “...I did?”

“No, actually. You didn’t.” And then, Ryunosuke kissed him.

It took Kazuma an embarrassingly long time to process what was happening - the warm, clumsy, eager press of Ryunosuke’s lips against his, Ryunosuke’s hands on either side of his hips, Ryunosuke’s chest braced against his shoulder - before he finally had the sense to kiss him back, his fingers curling desperately into the front of Ryunosuke’s shirt and tugging him closer. Hours seemed to pass before they finally broke apart, breathless.

Laughing softly, Kazuma lowered his forehead to rest against Ryunosuke’s. “Was that your answer, then?”

“You love me,” Ryunosuke said, his eyes shining. It wasn’t a question this time. “And I - ”

“Wait,” Kazuma interrupted; his heart was pounding wildly against his ribcage. “Don’t say it if you - ”

“I thought you wanted me to answer you,” Ryunosuke said, grinning cheekily. He leaned in again, kissing the crook of Kazuma’s jaw this time. “I...I love you too, Kazuma. And I forgive you. Though...we’re not done talking about this yet. We have a lot to talk about.”

“I know,” Kazuma said, his voice barely above a whisper. He felt like if he spoke any louder, he would break the spell they were both under. “I know. And...thank you, Ryunosuke.”

Beaming, Ryunosuke kissed him again, then lifted one of Kazuma’s hands to gently kiss his palm. Kazuma ducked his head, flustered and charmed in one fell swoop, narrowly missing the sight of Ryunosuke reluctantly getting to his feet. “Shall I get Susato-san? We’ve kept her waiting for a while now, though I suspect she’s had her ear pressed against her door this whole time.”

“So do I,” Kazuma said dryly, chuckling. It was only when Ryunosuke turned and went to knock on Susato’s bedroom door that Kazuma let himself sprawl out across the floor with a relieved sigh. He continued to laugh almost deliriously, one hand clasped over his heart, still reeling in shock from what had happened. To think he’d nearly turned and walked away without knocking on the door - and now Kazuma didn’t want to even entertain the thought of what would’ve happened if he had.

_____

“Will you be joining us for dinner tonight, Kazuma-sama?”

Kazuma looked up from the autopsy report he’d been poring over, shooting Susato an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that. What did you say?”

“You really should pay more attention when you have guests in your office,” Ryunosuke teased. He was standing on the opposite side of the room, admiring the decorative shelf Kazuma had installed not too long ago; he recognized some of the small trinkets as things Kazuma had collected from various school festivals from what felt like a lifetime ago. “Especially when those guests are us.”

“You certainly have an inflated sense of self today,” Kazuma said wryly, setting his paperwork aside so he could rest his elbows on his desk and look Ryunosuke in the eye. “Honestly, I get on my knees for you just once - ”

“To ask f-for my f-forgiveness!” Ryunosuke stammered, his short-lived bravado now gone. Susato didn’t even try to hide her laughter behind her sleeve, her musical giggle filling the room. “Kazuma, please - ”

“ - and now you seem to think you can order me around,” Kazuma finished, smirking. “What do you make of all this, Susato-san?”

“Seeing as you had to plead for my forgiveness, Kazuma-sama, I think Naruhodo-san’s request that you listen to us is more than reasonable,” Susato replied with a near-smug smile of her own. “And I was asking if you would be coming to dinner. Mr Holmes has been working on a new piece, and he’d love to have you be a part of tonight’s audience.”

“Yes, I should be available,” Kazuma nodded. “Seven-thirty, correct? I was thinking of purchasing some desserts from that confectionery Iris likes on my way to Baker Street.”

“That would be wonderful,” Susato said gratefully, smiling. “Thank you.”

“However, what I won’t be bringing tonight is any hints for tomorrow’s trial,” Kazuma continued, turning his narrowed gaze on his partner’s back. “So please stop looking through my things, Ryunosuke. You’re as subtle as ever, it seems.”

“You’ve caught me,” Ryunosuke said, turning on his heel with a weak chuckle. He then finally dropped back into the seat beside Susato’s, opposite Kazuma. “Really, though, thank you for providing us with a copy of the autopsy report. It seems like we only ever get it when we’re already in the courtroom.”

“The forensics team has been especially efficient these days,” Kazuma commented. “And I see no point in keeping it from you if it helps us reach an understanding faster, so...”

“Ah, that reminds me - we should return to the prison before visiting hours are over, Naruhodo-san,” Susato reminded him. “If we don’t leave soon, we might miss our chance.”

“Go on, then,” Kazuma said, motioning towards his door. “Don’t let me keep you.”

“I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I am that you’ll be joining us tonight, Kazuma-sama,” Susato said as she got to her feet, beaming. Ryunosuke, on the other hand, stood so he could walk around Kazuma’s desk. Then, he cupped Kazuma’s jaw with one hand and kissed him; Kazuma, naturally, kissed him back, threading his fingers through Ryunosuke’s hair. Susato let out a good-natured scoff, though she mostly seemed amused. “Naruhodo-san, please, our client is waiting for us! You can kiss Kazuma-sama all you like later, when we’re home.”

“I do like the sound of that,” Kazuma murmured against Ryunosuke’s lips, grinning even when Ryunosuke pulled away. “See you tonight, partner.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Ryunosuke replied with a fond smile, squeezing Kazuma’s hand before reluctantly letting go. He then followed Susato out the door, leaving Kazuma to lean back in his chair with a feeling of contentment warming in his chest and an irrevocably fond sigh. After another minute or so of simply taking in the moment, his mind blissfully calm, Kazuma turned to open his top desk drawer so he could pull out his gloves and slip them back on. He couldn't be sure if it was simply his mind playing tricks on him or if it was the honest truth, but they didn't feel quite as tight as they did before.

_____

a/n: Welcome to my first entry for Asoryuu Week 2021! To be honest, I'm still not entirely sure if I'm going to have a fic for every day of the week as I've fallen terribly behind, but I'm going to try my best. I blame Kazuma for being strangely difficult to write; I feel like I've got Ryunosuke and Susato, and to a lesser extent, everyone else mostly figured out, but as much as I love Kazuma, I'm still trying to sort out my characterization of him. And, as with any short(ish) fic, I'm always tempted to write longer versions of them, and I'm sure I'll write some long, angsty Asoryuu fic someday (I want to write a Masked!Kazuma/Ryunosuke fic so badly), but for the time being, these short fics have been a great way for me to practice writing these lovely characters!

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs would be much appreciated, and I hope you're all safe and healthy and doing well ❤️

[pocket-void]

A Cup of Coffee

A/N: I am so incredibly relieved to have finished this, but anyways! This is the second fic for Smaller Sides to Life, and I hope it’s alright. (Might make a mini list for that eventually) ^///^ I feel better about this story after thinking about it, and honestly I’m pretty content! Thank you and I hope you have a lovely day/night. u///u

Pairing: Loceit Words: 3596 Content: Flustered Janus because it just kind of turned out that way akjefabekf, it’s mostly Janus’ POV, there’s like a handful of swear words, it is fully light hearted u///u Summary: Janus and Logan always share the kitchen in the morning, being the earliest ones to rise. They never really talked, nor were they ever close, but it turns out that maybe they both have wanted to be.

Google doc if you like reading Cambria font or something, since I haven’t quite figured out Ao3 and don’t know if I ever will. >///< Also I believe uh, @sophiexteresa you wanted to be tagged...?

“Tssss...ouch.”

Sometimes a morning is about as good as a cup of coffee.

Some days it’s rich, fulfilling, and satisfying; a perfect and refreshing way to start the day. A cup that wakes you up with a gentle spreading warmth and wraps you in its delicate aroma that soothes your mind.

Other times however, it’s bitter, bland, and too watered down to really be properly enjoyed, resulting in a disgusting aftertaste that lingers just at the back of your throat; a constant reminder of what could’ve been, a better cup of coffee. It’s doubly worse when the coffee is not only bad, but also way too hot. The only possible benefit of the harsh sting that comes from the first sip is that it completely numbs the taste buds, effectively nullifying the admittedly awful flavor of the beverage, which of course will inevitably come creeping back regardless because there never truly is an escape from the shame and disappointment that is failing to make something as easy as a cup of joe. 

Perhaps the simple truth was just that Janus was not very good at making coffee. He was never going to admit that, obviously. Heavens no, he’d rather down another cup of scalding bean water before that ever happened. It’s not like he’d be able to taste it right now anyways, with his stupid numb mouth and all. Still, the fact that he couldn’t seem to keep something as simple as coffee consistent was definitely an odd flaw that weighed heavily on his stubborn pride, much more than any petty insult ever could. Perhaps it was the simplicity of it all that made it feel like such a thorn in his side. Hypothetically, one should be able to follow a procedure each and every morning and end up with a, if not identical, similar tasting brew each time. Well evidently that was not the case with Janus, much to his chagrin. Out of the seven days in a week, he could maybe make a decent pot only during two of those days; maybe three if he was lucky. Over the course of a year he has drunk more overheated, burnt, and under extracted cups of coffee than he could even bother to count, which he didn’t, because it was frankly beyond embarrassing at this point. If coffee wasn’t such a crucial part of his morning, he wouldn’t hesitate to label it the absolute bane of his existence. Curse those pesky grounded beans.

“...Are you alright?” A voice calls out from the other side of the kitchen. Seated at the dining table just a few feet away was Logan, halfway through a book just like he was on most days. His own empty mug casually placed atop a scattered collection of papers that no doubt contained endless notes on various facts, vocabulary words, and details of the coming week’s activities.

Of course, how could he ever forget the second most embarrassing part of his already lackluster mornings. The fact that the only other intelligent person in the living space had to watch him do this ridiculous charade every day. They’re the only ones who’d ever be awake at this time of day, as such is the fate of two people with actually proper sleeping habits. He has no clue how Logan manages to bear witness to this laughable display with a straight face, though perhaps the man was just not really paying attention. As he was, more often than not, too absorbed in hastily scribbling down notes about whatever topic had caught his attention that week to probably care about Janus constantly burning his delicate tongue over and over again. Which, to be fair, was a good thing. Wasn’t it? Totally. Right. Of course he wouldn’t want Logan to see him act a fool, why was he even asking. It’s not like anything he was doing was ever going to be as interesting as whatever the man was reading up about, as disappointing as that was. Not that it mattered currently, seeing as how for once he did manage to notice and- Aw shoot he completely forgot about that didn’t he.

Janus simply makes a face and squints, lips still slightly parted as he held his tongue between his teeth. He sighs and, with a mildly sarcastic gesture of one hand, replies with simply “Yes”.

Logan responds by raising an eyebrow, gaze still remaining firmly upon him.

Now maybe it was the way the gentle sunlight filtered through the slightly fogged up windows, or the way the dust danced under those soft golden beams, but the sight of Logan seated at the table somehow seemed to shine with an almost unfair ethereal glow. Now if only the reflection of his glasses didn’t also obscure his eyes...

Janus blinks. “Oh it’s just great.” He finally complies, rolling his eyes and ignoring the fact that he was probably just blankly staring for the past few moments. You know, like a fool. Which he was not. “Nothing big, just the usual.”

“The usual.” Logan repeats, sounding rather unimpressed. To which the snake reacts to by immediately placing a gloved hand over his heart.

“What? Don’t believe me?”

“Quite the contrary,” The other shuts his book. “I am well aware of the fact that you tend to make this mistake on a nearly daily basis.” 

The record scratch was almost audible.

“You-” Janus practically stumbles at the revelation that Logan was, in fact, actually aware of his struggles with the abominable coffee machine and its products’ disastrous burning touch. Memories of his daily mishaps slowly begin to flood his mind, and as he recalled each and every previous morning, the sound of nails being hammered into what might as well be the coffin of his tattered pride echoed louder and louder in his ears. Well it was either that, or the blood that was currently rushing through them from his suddenly racing heart. For a moment he wasn’t even sure how to respond, but the creeping heat that soon invaded his face was all too prevalent to ignore; a burning sensation rivaling even that of his tongue. 

In hindsight, he was perhaps the foolish one to not expect someone as perceptive as Logan to notice such things. Maybe it was wishful thinking at best. But surely nobody could’ve foreseen Logan ignoring the mistakes he was making even after taking note of it, right? Logan, who’s known to instinctively attempt to remedy mistakes when he saw them. Logan, who gets way too caught up in silly errors and misunderstanding figurative statements. Surely he would’ve said something, anything. But he knew? He knew and he didn’t say anything? He knew and he just watched as he made a fool of himself every day? What would’ve been the purpose of that? Was he secretly mocking him? Did he find this amusing? Janus winces. That thought perhaps stung more than it should have. 

He quickly turns away with a flick of his capelette and pretends to occupy himself with cleaning up the counter. Focusing his attention to the obnoxious yellow of his gloves rather than the gaze he still felt on his back. “Ah, so you knew.” Janus mumbles, managing to muster up his best attempt at remaining casual. “Did you even need to ask, in that case? Didn’t think you would be paying attention to whatever I was doing.” Honestly—now ain’t that a joke—he wasn’t really even sure what else he could say to that. “You have better, less mundane things to be paying attention to, no? Surely I’m nowhere near as interesting as the books you oh so love to stick your nose in.” The soft chuckle that emanated from behind just made him want to coil up into a ball and dissipate even more, but he stands his ground. He’ll just...get through the morning and subsequently try to never think of this moment ever again. He’s totally fine. 

“I wouldn’t say you aren’t interesting, Janus.”

Ok nevermind, maybe he isn’t-

“I beg your pardon?” Janus almost instantly snaps his head back towards the man at the table. A decision he immediately regrets as he locks eyes with a softly smiling Logan—gently leaning forwards as his chin rests upon crossed hands—and Janus feels his composure once again fly right out the window. 

“I said I find you interesting.”

He takes a deep breath. “Don’t repeat that, I didn’t hear you.”

“I said-”

“No no, I didn’t mean that, actually stop.”

Logan quirks his eyebrow yet again, in the snarky yet triumphant way that showed when he knew he was right about something. While the confidence was admittedly charming, Janus for one really wishes he’d stop doing that. Especially right now.

“Would you like me to elaborate?”

“As a matter of fact, I would.” No he fucking didn’t, why the hell did he say that. He nods curtly, setting his coffee cup aside as he awkwardly leans against the counter for support more than anything else. Ignoring the fact that he wanted nothing more than to leave this current predicament, he hoped to god, the bastard, that the panic settling in his bones wasn’t showing on his face.

Logan smiles a little. “Well personally, I rather enjoy our time in each other’s presence during the morning.”

He enjoyed his company? “Well I certainly wouldn’t have guessed.”

“I’ve also observed that you tend to have great difficulty making your preferred morning beverage the way you like it, correct?”

Ouch. “No?”

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Logan replies without pause. “While I find your persistence admirable, I think we’ve reached the point of reasonable doubt a good while ago.”

“Mhm, yeah, great. Great. And are you just going to sit there and humiliate me, or are you actually trying to make a point?” Suffice it to say, he was not a big fan of hearing about it.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to offend or belittle you in any way.”

Janus scowls. “So what? Have my mistakes finally bothered you enough to actually speak up about it?”

“Well, I had anticipated you asking for assistance one of these days, but it seems like I have underestimated your tenacity.” Logan adjusts his glasses as he opens up one of his notebooks. “Truly a miscalculation on my part.”

“Miscalculation?” He gives a weary glance at the notebook. Logan had tons of them; each one having a different color or pattern that denoted their specific purpose. A sudden realization hits him as he gets a brief glance of the yellow cover. “Have you been observing me??”

“For the past few months, yes.” The man looks back up with a click of his pen. “Is there a problem?”

Is there a problem? How the hell does he just say these things? Of course there was a problem! How in the world was he supposed to live this down knowing that Logan didn’t just notice him every morning, but also was most likely taking excessively extensive notes? He was beginning to think that his attempts to make himself less conspicuous in the morning had subsequently led him to be less perceptive about what the other was doing instead, and that was an irony that he did not want to think about right now.

“Well I simply don’t see any benefit for you in doing that.”

That actually seems to make the other take pause. “There is no benefit.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“There is no benefit.”

“You really need to stop repeating things when I-” Deep breath Janus, deep breath. “I’m not actually asking you to- Nevermind that, why are you doing this then?”

Logan lightly taps his pen against his chin. He shrugs. “I just wanted to figure out the best method of assisting you.”

“Oh and why would you ever care to do that?”

There wasn’t an immediate answer. Just a quiet, all encompassing silence interrupted by only the occasional distant chirping of birds, as the two remained where they were in the kitchen on what was supposed to be a typical Tuesday morning.

Truth was, he didn’t want to hear it. And for one moment, just that moment, time seemed to slow. As Janus stands by the counter, with the bittersweet smell of his still cooling cup of coffee gently wafting his way and his eyes still focused on the twinkling starry blue that was Logan’s eyes, something within him was absolutely terrified. And the worst part was that he didn’t even know why. Or perhaps he did, but for the sake of himself he had never dared to acknowledge it. He couldn’t. How could he? His world sat upon an ever delicate balance, and he was not one to step towards any risk of tipping that scale. So he never did. As much as he wishes he could. To be important. To be just a few feet closer. To be just one seat away. To be sitting at that table, silently listening to Logan rant about the latest book he oh so loved to stick his nose in, and to take a sip out of a cup that was not his own. As much as he wishes he could. But no, he couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

Yet a part of him still hopes, and he curses himself for it.

Every part of his body is telling him to get out right now. To run. To spare himself the agony being here instead of literally anywhere else. To save himself before whatever words that were about to leave Logan’s mouth completely shatters the status quo that he was already accustomed to. He knew he was hoping for too much, it was too late to take anything back, and at this point even if it were just a kind hearted gesture from a well meaning acquaintance, he didn’t think his currently pounding heart could bear the affirmation of what he already suspected. It was frankly a lose-lose situation. A situation he should’ve known better than to get himself into. A situation where he knew the best solution was just to leave.

Which is why within that moment, just one moment in which time had seemed to slow, when Janus is suddenly pulled back into reality as he now finds himself glancing upwards at Logan, who was now standing a mere two feet away. He instinctively attempts to take a step back, but his heel taps against the counter, clearly surprised at the sudden shift in positioning. Had he really been that lost in thought? Janus finally breaks away his gaze to look to the side, holding his breath as if he were bracing for whatever the other had to say next.

“Am I not allowed to?” The unexpected softness in Logan’s voice was so incredibly unfair, and it obliterated any guard that he could have ever possibly put up. 

“I- No, you just...” He inhales rather sharply. Get a grip. “Just why would you-”

“Janus.”

He looks back and suddenly they’re face to face, barely a few inches apart, and within moments he completely forgets how to breathe.

Logan laughs. He laughs. With a tenderness he has never seen etched across the man’s typically serious face. Janus stares, completely mesmerized by the beautiful yet admittedly confusing sight, and forgetting about just why he was so flustered not too long ago. He feels his hand be slowly taken into another as Logan lifts to hold it within both of his own.

“Would you mind if I made your coffee tomorrow morning?” He asks, voice barely a whisper and lips still curled in an enchanting smile.

It was a request that barely registers itself in Janus’ mind, but he quickly manages a nod after swallowing practically nothing; his mouth suddenly dry. The only thing he could focus on was just how darn close those lips were, or how deep his eyes were, or how he still smelled faintly of chamomile tea, or- “Please.” He states, with whatever remaining dignity he had left.

The other seemed pleased with the answer, and the silent understanding that was present between them felt almost too nice to be true, yet it managed to put all of his worries to rest. Part of Janus wishes time could stop right here, with his hand delicately held between Logan’s and his heart quietly swelling within his chest; the other part promptly snaps him out of that ridiculous fantasy to focus back on what was actually happening. Logan hadn’t yet moved from where he was.

“Uh…” Janus lightly bit his lip, the next thing almost paining him to suggest. “Could you perhaps...let go now?” 

“Of course.” Logan says, loosening the hold on the other’s hand. An admittedly disappointing gesture, but it’s not like anyone was going to admit that. “There are still tasks that we must both attend to.” But before he steps back to return to his seat, he gently leans in to lift Janus’ hat and plants a soft kiss upon his forehead. The expression Janus showed as a result is surely priceless as his eyes grow wide and heat instantly flares across the rest of his face yet again. He couldn’t even get a word of protest out before Logan walks away after a small pat on his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“...Right.” He replies, and promptly excuses himself from the kitchen as fast as humanly possible. He genuinely didn’t think he could handle staying there for much longer. His head was still spinning from everything that had happened, and the simple promise that was to be fulfilled the next morning sat heavily on his mind for the rest of the day. Did he know what he was doing? Was it on purpose? Was he allowed to believe in what he hadn’t thought was possible before? Janus places a hand over his forehead, the feeling of warm lips touching against his skin still rather fresh in his memories. Maybe, he could allow himself to enjoy it? What a dangerous thought, but ever so enticing. Here he thought that he could avoid it forever, and eventually it would be forgotten. Like a fool. Which he just might be.

It was something he’d probably never escape, but was it a curse? Or a blessing? Or perhaps it was neither, since neither of those things exist. But alas these feelings did, and if he couldn’t throw them away, then he’d have to keep them.

The next morning inevitably came, and with great anticipation Janus pauses a few steps before entering the kitchen. He places a hand over his heart, as if the action would somehow manage to soothe its wild rhythm, and takes a deep breath. He enters, hesitant and still groggy from just getting up, completely not knowing what to expect.

Logan was there, as usual, sitting at the dining table, papers scattered all across the surface and eyes attentively scanning through the pages of yet another book. It felt almost like a crime to disturb his concentration, but a new detail catches Janus’ eyes. A second cup, placed but a foot away from the other on the table; the area around the mug being mildly less cluttered as if to make room. 

Janus finally steps forward to make his way to the table, his arrival being politely greeted with a “salutations” from the other, and immediately given an offer to sit.

“Here?” He gestures, giving a tentative glance towards where he was used to standing. A comfortable distance away, by the counter. But now that safe haven seemed so far away.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

With that he pulls out a chair and takes a seat. His eyes wander towards the various papers that cover most of the table’s surface. Notes, facts, and schedules, just like he always imagined. The confirmation of being correct about something never fails to amuse him. He sneaks a peek at Logan, whose gaze also shifts up from his book without lifting his head.

“Reading about coffee today are we?” Janus chuckles.

“There can be a surprising amount of depth to any subject.”

“Hmm.” Janus hums. “...Tell me about it.”

And so he does.

While the two sit in tranquil harmony, with Logan explaining the intricacies of coffee, from its history to its benefits to its various methods of consumption, and Janus patiently listening while staring down at the drink that was poured for him beforehand, in the cup that he has always used each and every morning before. Amidst the pleasant atmosphere and the comforting voice of another, he eventually takes a sip.

It was perfect.

“I’m pleased you like it.” Logan comments, noticing the content expression on his face.

“You really did your research huh.”

“It took a few months. It was difficult to gather data when there was no consistency in the methodology that you used.”

Janus coughs and glances away again, but he hears the small chuckle underneath Logan’s breath.

“I can walk you through the process one day if you’d like.”

“I think I’d rather leave it to you.”

“A wise course of action.”

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself.” Janus mumbles, smiling a little to himself and completely accepting defeat in that regard. 

Sometimes a morning is about as good as a cup of coffee. And now, sitting here at the table under the gentle light of the rising sun, perhaps every following morning could be similarly warm, fulfilling, and just as perfect as well. 

After all, every cup was now going to be just the way he likes it.

[dotthings]

Some things have come up where it’s time to clear the air instead of all this vagueblogging. FYI and PSA and all that, I am one of the people Saz and Tink have been targeting for over a year now.

First they tried to smear an entire gc, and stabbed an entire friends group in the back. I’m going to talk about Saz, who did all this because of an argument Tink had with Min concerning readings of Destiel. Tink has likewise not behaved well in this and has been part of this smear campaign but Saz is far more vocal about it.

Saz stayed in that gc for a year, saying nothing about her discomfort. Didn’t try to reach out to any of us. Pretended she liked being there. Didn’t try to reach out to any of us individually to talk about her discomfort Then one day exploded and told us all off about what horrible bullies we are. 

When that didn’t go over well, she reached out individually to see if she could turn people from that group against their friends.

When that didn’t go over well, she made a public post smearing an entire gc, lying about its purpose and its contents, lying about all of us.

She is still at it.

Some of the meta writers from that twitter gc joined the POLOL server. I was actually one of the first in there, was even a mod for a while (not a mod now because I just couldn’t take that on but I’m active in POLOL). 

Saz over the past few months has been making posts to smear POLOL.

She refers to bullysquad/cultists/conspiracy theorists/bad people. That would include me, and many of my friends.

People...it’s a group of nerdy meta writers.  POLOL isn’t a cult or exclusive club, it’s one of many blanket forts that are necessary in a fandom with a tendency to shout people down or target them with hatred. POLOL was founded to have a haven away from being mocked for doing Dabb-era positive meta, for being canon Destiel positive. On tumblr and twitter, the bashing’s been from bitter Destiel shippers not just brosonlies. At times bitter Destiel shippers have sounded exactly like anti-Destiel brosonlies, making fun of people for seeing the Destiel.

Notably, a bibro BNF has been openly trying to smear POLOL as well. They’ve lied about it. Saz has lied about it. 

There’s no cult, no graft, no bullysquad. Just a lot of petty standom grudgewanking.

After calling other Destiel shippers “crazy” for seeing its validity (although she also saw it as valid, she flipped back and forth on that), after 15.18 aired she ran with “I knew it all along!”

More recently she has turned the smearing towards discussion of network interference to whisk a queer ship off screen. 15.18 was the farthest s*n was permitted to go and no further. 

POLOL aren’t the only people who’ve made posts on the topic and who have done the work, and nobody from POLOL has claimed to be.

What has angered people is that after insulting members of POLOL for posting about the topic, Saz decided to post about the topic. She announced she was going to make a big compilation of the evidence of network tinkering to dispel the accusation that Destiel shippers are crazy.

After dismissing Destiel meta writers as crazy. After accusing people who already did a lot of work and emotional labor on these topics of being cultists and conspiracy theorists.

But if Saz posts about it...then it’s ok?

It’s not ok to label people bullies just because you dislike them. It’s not ok to keep dragging people through the mud who offered you friendship. 

We’ve left her alone, only vague tweeting or vague posting (idek if I’ve made any tumblr posts about it until now, ftr) when Saz’s accusations got particularly aggressive or gratuitous.

Every time we’ve tried to defend ourselves and counter the lying, she turns around and claims we’re “harassing” her with a targeted hate campaign.

While she gets to continue to lie.

I don’t make a fuss about people unfollowing. If anyone is uncomfortable with me, or my blog, you are free to go.

What I’ve noticed, on tumblr and twitter, is that people friendly with Saz and Tink, who have even offered them sympathy directly on their posts or tweets about the alleged “bullysquad” also engage with my content. I just think people should know what they are getting into.

I would, likewise personally prefer that if you support tweets or posts that smear me and my friends, to not engage with me, but I realize that quite a few people simply don’t know what’s been going on.

Because it’s been mostly vagueblogging, and then in response, many of us did our best to leave Saz and Tink alone, to not name names, to not be confrontational, to not make the situation worse.

[volleychumps]

To Choose (Yamaguchi x Reader x Tsukishima)

“I’m sorry. I don’t really have time for things like that...” 

The confident feeling in your chest seemed to be naturally deflate, a feeling as if someone had laid a heavy object on your chest taking its’ place. 

“Ah. Sorry to inconvenience you with my feelings, Tsukishima-kun...” You force the edges of your mouth to lift, hoping he couldn’t see past that facade with his analytical eyes. Knowing he probably did, you spin on your heel rather hurriedly, waving at him backwards. “Thank you for giving me the time! I’ll see you in class!” 

You prayed he couldn’t see the slight quiver to your shoulders as you tried to force a bounce in your step, cursing slightly when the tears slip out and the sobs build up in your throat. 

“(Y/N)?” Your vision allows for a blurred Yamaguchi to come into view through the moisture in your eyes, looking worriedly down at you. “Are you...okay?” 

“Huh?” You smile as if you don’t know what he’s talking about, but the redness in your eyes is a dead giveaway. Still, he doesn’t push it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

The freckled boy casts you a second worried glance as you seem to pick up pace to walk past him, fists clenching when he sees who’s standing in the direction from which you came, scrolling through his playlist as if nothing had just happened. 

Yamaguchi walks up to his childhood friend, and the latter glances down at him before sighing. 

“So you saw, huh?” 

“D-did she...?”

“Yep.”

“And you said no?” Yamaguchi pries a little further as Tsukishima’s face betrays no emotion, simply nodding slightly. Almost as if he had just swatted away an insect.

“Tsukki...you like her.” 

The blonde boy says nothing in response, putting his headphones over his head. 

“Don’t you?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t have the time.” With that, Tsukishima turns to walk away from his unusually pushy friend until Yamaguchi finds the courage to say one more thing. 

“Then you don’t care if she was with another guy, right?” 

The taller boy stops dead in his tracks, not looking back before allowing one of his hands to make a motion as if he didn’t care, falling slack. Yamaguchi grits his teeth at the motion, and Tsukishima continues to walk away. 

In doing so, he says one more thing. 

“What she does isn’t any of my concern.”

-- You avoided Tsukishima after that, the embarrassment still built up in your system at the blatant rejection. Luckily, you had a seat towards the front of the class, and didn’t have any need to turn around to his seat in the back. 

You had been so close to him and Yamaguchi, you were mad at yourself for letting your feelings ruin any chance of friendship without it feeling awkward. Thankfully, Yamaguchi never pressed you about it, still inviting you to come eat lunch with them. 

“I think I’m actually gonna work on some homework during the lunch period...” You trail off, biting your lip as you avoid Yamaguchi’s concerned stare. He shuffles in his bag for a minute before emerging with a packed bento. You stare at it questioningly as the shy boy turns beet red. 

“U-Um! I made some extra last night, so I was p-planning on giving this to you...” 

You can’t help the small smile that sets on your lips at the kind gesture, knowing Yamaguchi probably did it to make you feel better. 

“Thank you, Yamaguchi-kun.” You smile brightly up at him as he squeaks out a rushed you’re welcome, darting back out the door to find his childhood friend. You open the bento to be met with the words you’ve got this!! spelled out with nori on the rice, and the giggle bubbles up from your throat before you realize it. 

“Made extra, huh?” 

--

There was a weird tension between Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, and the whole team could feel it. 

“What do you think happened? Yamaguchi would always look up to Tsukishima, brag about him even.” Daichi mumbles to a concerned-looking Asahi. 

“Hai Hai, let’s let them figure out their own problems,” Sugawara arbitrates, swinging both arms over his friends before motioning for Kageyama and Hinata to come over. 

“Hey, do you know what happened with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima?”

Daichi sweatdrops and Asahi releases a sigh. “What happened to letting them figure it out?” 

“Not helping them figure it out and knowing what the tea is are two separate things, Daichi.” Sugawara responds sassily before turning to the two kouhais. 

“Beats me.” Kageyama shrugs.

“They were fine today...I think I saw them eating lunch together earlier.” Hinata responds thoughtfully. 

The team all exchange looks with one another before their captain sighs, clapping his hands together once.

“Yosh. Let’s start practice.” 

Before any other movement can be made, the entrance to the gym suddenly slides open. The whole team seems to gape at you when you step through, apologizing for the intrusion, and Tanaka and Nishinoya have a headstart when you enter. 

“Can we help you with anything?!” 

You blink at the two, sweatdropping as you wave to a face palming Yachi. 

“U-um...”

“Following me to my practices, are you?”  Your hands tighten at the sound of Tsukishima’s teasing tone, snipping back. “I’m actually not here for you.” 

With that, you brush past him to a surprised Yamaguchi, shuffling around in your bag for the empty bento before handing it to him with a beam. “Here. It was delicious, thank you for making it.” 

“My pleasure!” Yamaguchi says a little to hurriedly with reddened cheeks. His cheeks seem to flush even more when his mouth opens next, words tumbling over each other. “A-are you free this weekend?” 

The whole team gapes. Tsukishima’s face suddenly becomes void of emotion. 

“I am.” You reply gently, not wanting to work the poor boy’s emotions up more than you already had. 

“Then...let’s go get some food...or something?”

You blink once, realization settling in. 

Yamaguchi had feelings for you.

How were you never able to see it?

“Pathetic.” Tsukishima’s voice is quieted, but just barely audible for your ears to hear before you suddenly nod, the whole team hanging onto the scene in front of them as if they were witnessing a soap opera. 

“Saturday, then?” You perk up immediately as Yamaguchi gapes at you slightly before nodding vigorously. You flush, bowing to the staring team before apologizing once more and taking your leave, not meeting the stare of the tallest member of the team. 

The silence settles around the gym heavily, Suga fanning himself a little dramatically. “So that’s the tea...”

--

You sigh, gazing at your reflection in the mirror the day of the hangout with Yamaguchi. 

Were you leading him on? You weren’t doing this out of petty spite, were you?

Could you actually have feelings for...Yamaguchi? Have you even considered it? 

You think back, and surely enough, Yamaguchi was always there, looking at you while you were looking at Tsukishima. 

God, this was complicated.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a text buzzes on your phone from Yamaguchi, texting you the meet-up destination before you take a deep breath. You should just enjoy today, and figure complex stuff out later. 

Pushing the conflicting thoughts to the back of your mind, you grab your bag before calling out a quick goodbye to your parents. 

What you didn’t expect, however, was for Kei Tsukishima to be leaning against the outside of your house upon your exit, hands shoved in his pockets in all his sarcastic glory. 

You can’t seem to fumble for the right words when he sees you, walking up to you in three long strides.

“You look cute. That excited for Yamaguchi’s date today?” 

Why did he sound so...bitter?

You look away from his eyes, not being able to read them. “It’s not a date, and even if it was, that isn’t any of your business.” 

“Hm. Well, if it isn’t a date, then ditch him.” 

What?

“Come somewhere with me...I want to talk to you.” 

“Yamaguchi’s my-our friend! Why would I-!” 

“Because I don’t want you going to him.” He takes another step towards you, and you subconciously take a step back. 

“What does that even-?” You run out of steps to take back, your back pressing against your door as he places a hand next to your head, looking down at you. 

“What do you think it means?” His voice is quieter now, his voice more serious than ever. You squint your eyes shut when he nears even closer, his breath fanning your face. 

“I said I didn’t have the time for you. Not that I didn’t feel the same.” 

You bite your lip, eyes opening slowly as you stare into his gold eyes before pushing him back lightly, stepping around him and walking forward.

“Goodbye, Tsukishima-kun.” 

“I don’t care if I’m the bad guy, you know?” He blurts out, making your legs stall to listen. “Because the nice guy never wins.” 

You continue to walk ahead, Tsukishima’s manipulating words crowding your thoughts.

-- 

“(Y/N)! I was afraid you got lost!” Yamaguchi waves you over, and you smile. The confusion you felt was suddenly gone in an instant as soon as he stood in front of you. You knew for a fact that you immediately relaxed when in Yamaguchi’s presence. 

“I had a little...obstacle on my way here.” You grin sheepishly as you notice that Yamaguchi was dressed really nice, not over-the-top nice, but it was a much better mix up from his school uniform. 

He flushes under your stare, and you blink, feeling embarrassed. “A-Ah, you just look really nice, Yamaguchi-kun.” 

“(Y-Y/N)?”

You tilt your head.

“You look really cute today too.” 

And so you both just stood there with heat on your cheeks, a silence filling the air before you break it, tugging on his sleeve with a smile. 

“Let’s just go eat, okay?” 

Your heart seemed to pick up pace when he slips your grip from his sleeve into his hand.

“R-right.” 

--

“That was so good! You didn’t have to pay though...”You beam, trailing after Yamaguchi out of the restaurant. He had fumbled the conversation a little bit, but you still thought it was cute. 

Cute?

The protruding thoughts fill your head again when Yamaguchi suddenly turns to you, making your breath hitch. 

“(Y/N).” 

“Y-yes?” It was your turn to stutter, suddenly finding interest in your shoes.

“Am I helping you...get over Tsukki?” 

You lift your eyes to see him with a hand on the back of his neck, his cheeks reddened. 

“Truth be told, I don’t know if I am.” You say finally, hearing Yamaguchi audibly gulp. “But you know what I can say?” You grab his hand, startling him.

“I can say that you don’t need to make me get over him. Don’t make him the center of us. I’ll figure things out for myself...but for now, I just need you to be you. Okay?” You rest your head on his erratically beating chest, feeling him take deeper breaths. 

“I like you, (Y/N),” 

You bite your lip, pulling back slightly. “Let’s take things slow for now. You and Tsukishima are best friends. I don’t want to be the cause of that rift...I want a little bit of normalcy back before I can fully commit...” 

Your words are rushed, but Yamaguchi listens patiently.

Yamaguchi smiles slightly when you’re done blabbering, nodding once. “Okay.”

“Just...do what you need to do to turn my heart towards you completely. I’m sorry, this is happening so quick and I.. Give me time, I know I’m asking for a lot, but-”

“(Y/N).” Yamaguchi catches your hand, giving you a wide grin. “I’m happy you’re even considering me. Come on, I’ll buy you dessert.” 

You watch your hands intertwined as you follow the sweet boy down the pavement, feeling a bubbly feeling in your chest along with a sense of guilt. 

Witholding a groan, you allow Yamaguchi to open the door to the bakery.

How could you possibly choose?

--

Part Two if wanted! 

[grey-water-colors]

Missing You Damian Wayne X Reader Part 1

I really wanted to get into the writing scene here on Tumblr, so I thought I’d start with my latest fixation, the Batfam, specifically Damian Wayne. This is my first time writing him, so please be kind. Just so you know, The reader is a singer and an artist, and is popular for both. I hope you enjoy. If enough people like it I hope to open up requests, but thats only a maybe right now.

Warnings: Swearing? I think that’s it.

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1,244

Big thanks to @oreosmama for the title!

~~~

“I’m going to miss you.”

“I know. I’ll miss you as well beloved.”

He wrapped her up in a hug hoping to convey just how much he’d miss her.

“Are you sure I should go? I don’t want to leave for so long.”

“It’s only a week. You’ll be back before you know it.”

~~~

If only he knew how long a week without her would be.

Standing on top of a building he watched a plane fly overhead and briefly wondered if you were on that plane, but he knew better. He had memorized your schedule including when all your flights were. He knew you were already flying over the ocean on your way to London.

 ~~~

 Waking up without you beside him was strange. Your side of the bed was cold, and it was a little too quiet for his liking. You always made tired comments about having to get up every morning and were clumsy, leading to you running into furniture and loud footsteps. They were a comfort to him, and he didn’t even realize it till you weren’t here.

 ~~~

 As he sat in his first period class, he looked at the clock knowing you were about half an hour away from getting on your second flight taking you farther away from him.

 ~~~

 You walked off the plane and squinted at the bright lights of the airport. You didn’t know what time it was, but you had about an hour before your last flight for a day.

 It was currently 2:30 pm in Tokyo, which meant that it would be 1:30 am back home. Y/N smiled knowing Damian would be asleep after patrol, but she wouldn’t get to call for another 10 hours and wanted to see how he was doing.

 He answered after 3 rings. “Beloved?” His voice thick with sleep that made you smile.

 “Hey. I just arrived in Tokyo and I thought I’d call to see how you’re doing. And to tell you I miss you, but I know its early and you probably need your sleep. I can call you back, but not for another 10 hours and I figured you wanted to hear from me an-“ you rambled but he cut you off.

 “Beloved, I miss you too. Of course, we can talk now. I knew this would happen seeing as you are across the world right now.”

 You blushed. No matter how long you were with him, he still managed to give you butterflies. Had it been anyone else you were sure that they would have rather slept.

 “Your headed to your next flight correct?”

 “Ahh, yeah. I have like an hour before I leave though. I thought I’d find something to eat and to sit and relax for a bit.”

 “You should.” You heard him yawn on the other side of the phone.

 “How are things in Gotham? Any breakouts or robberies?”

 Part of you was joking, but another part was worried. You had always felt better about him being Robin when you were there to make sure he was ok after patrols. Being so far away made you worry. If something happened and you couldn’t get there in time.

 “Y/N? Are you there?”

 His concern traveled over the line and snapped you out of your head.

 “Yeah. I’m here, just a little lost in thought. It’s been a long day and I’m not even close to being done.”

 “Hmm, I was just saying that there wasn’t anything big, just a petty crime here and there. It was actually pretty boring.”

 “By all means I’m sorry it was boring, but I’m glad.” You gave a short laugh. “I should go. You need sleep. I’ll call you when I land, I think you should be awake by then.” You paused. “I love you.”

 “I love you too. I hope your flight goes well.”

 “Thank you, Goodnight.”

 “Goodnight, Beloved.”

 The click of the disconnection sounded in your ear as you saw a Starbucks. Your stomach growled.

 You felt a tear fall down your cheek. “Damn, I’m pathetic. Crying cause, I miss my boyfriend.” You let out a huff, you needed to get yourself together or you were never going to survive this trip.

 ~~~

 He officially hated waking up without you next to him. You both usually stayed in bed as late as you could stand it, whispering and dozing.

 Today though, without you here, he didn’t see the point in staying in bed, so he got up. You were on your longest flight, a grueling 10 hours of just sitting. He wished more than anything he could be there with you.

 You had sounded distant last night when you had called. Lonely, though you’d never tell him that because you knew he’d worry, but he knew you so well that he could hear it. Hear it in the pauses you took and in the way you said goodbye.

 ~~~

 Landing wasn’t as smooth as you had hoped it would be. You were going to Auckland, New Zealand to perform at a charity event. The Prime Minister would be there to start it off. Essentially it was a gala, but there were multiple things gong on. There would be other singers there as well as other artists. You were there as both.

 It was strange to think about going to a gala without the youngest Wayne by your side. He always kept a hand on the small of your back or an arm around your waist. You rarely danced with anyone other than Damian at galas because they made you uncomfortable. You were an adult though, and you didn’t always need him to hold your hand at these things.

 Rehearsals were at 10am and the event started at 7pm and went through until 12am. You would sing at 8 and then the rest of your time was mingling, selling your artwork, and heading back to your hotel to get some sleep before you were off flying again.

 When you landed, you had planned to call Damian seeing as it was 5 at night back home and you were both awake, but when you stepped out of the gate you were met with a chauffeur holding a sign with your name. You were then whisked away from the gate to get your luggage and dropped off at the hotel which was about an hour away from the airport.

 By the time you were checked in and, in your room, it was already 6:30 am and Damian had left about 20 missed calls on your phone. Before you could call him though, a knock on your door interrupted you, and you were promptly told that rehearsals had been moved up seeing as they were taking so long. You decided that a text would have to do and hurried to follow the person taking you to rehearsals.

 ~~~

 Damian was beside himself with worry. You said you would call when you landed, but that was 45 minutes ago. Had something happened to you? Were you ok? The questions left him with a rock in his stomach and a bitter taste in his mouth.

 He finally received a text message from you.

 Sorry for not calling. I haven’t had a break since I landed. Rehearsals are early and I don’t have time to call yet. I’m so sorry love. Please don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine.

The rock in his stomach eased a little, but still remained, and it would stay there until you were home in his arms.

Part 2   Part 3

[brideofcthulhu10]

I promised you guys I'd whittle something out before the end of the day! (Currently its 11:30 here, so I made my deadline lol) So here's a bit of drama and fluff. Every couple fights, even vampires, but the most important thing is to take responsibility for your actions and communicate. With that in mind, I give you: 

Lost Boys Make Their Fem!S/O Cry During a Fight

CONTENT WARNING: Sexual Themes, Possible Triggers, Topics of Physical and Verbal Anger

David

David is not known to mince words in any scenario, so you can bet that means he chooses an s/o who can handle his bluntness. The same could be said for your fights. Unlike Dwayne and Paul, David rarely yells anymore. Instead he's harsh, cold, and what he says often hits very hard. He doesn't tip toe around when he's calm, you can damn well bet he isn't going to be considerate when you tick him off. He can be quite jealous at times, but often it doesn't lead to a fight. Admittedly he can be a tad petty as well, but getting genuinely enraged towards you is not as common. A spat is one thing, but a serious fight can get ugly fast. He is almost jolted when he hears a sharp breath muffled under your hand. Hell he's only ever heard you make that sound during sex, and this was definitely no time to be turned on. He'll turn around and see you with your hand over your mouth trying to hide your shame and feel ungodly levels of guilt. 

David's words are harsh, and when you turn out of the room he's still sitting there utterly flabbergasted that you had such a tearful expression. After all, you had to know he didn't mean it..right?

David will definitely sulk, he hates admitting he was wrong. Not necessarily because he thinks he's in the right for being cruel, but rather he's sure you just need space and then things will get better. He'll expect you back any day... So when you don't, he kind of goes into denial and will wait, and wait… and wait... 

The guys stopped asking about you because every time he hears your name mentioned he grows more pissed off. Eventually he explodes in a rage, which is extremely rare for David.

"So uh.. about Y/N-"

"Why isn't she back yet?! This is stupid, she should know that I don't mean it!"

"Hey, David, man why don't you go talk to Y/N? I sure if you-"

"No! If she wants to stay away, fucking fine! Good riddance!"

Truthfully he's upset. Beyond that, really. He feels awful for making you cry, he's afraid you might hate him now, but he doesn't know how to approach the situation. Apologizing is difficult, to David it's a form of defeat and a part of him doesn't want to face that it's his fault you're gone. 

Eventually he caves in after a week and a half. He misses you like crazy! The guilt gnaw at him to the point that he can't sleep, he can't think straight. Even blood begins to have a bitter taste to it. 

It'll be a late night, closer to 3 am when he just silently appears in your room. If you're asleep he'll just stand there and watch you for a moment. Mostly trying to build up enough willpower to do what he's about to. 

Expect his apology to be kind of crappy. At least, at first. It'll come off as angry, even a bit misguided just because he really hates admitting he fucked up. But when he does, it's the most sincere, heartbreaking moment of your relationship. He may have to turn away from you and shut his eyes before any tears tempt his cheeks. You can't see him like that. Tears means he's getting emotional, that means he's growing attached, and attachment… it's a weakness. When he's weak and attached, people die. 

He lost a love before because he couldn't protect her, he's lost his brothers once because he got careless and underestimated his enemy, he can't lose more. 

Once he apologizes and you come back to him, he's a bit more attached to you physically. He'll hold you from behind with his chin on your shoulder while sitting on his bike, have you sit on his lap at the hotel, even on the boardwalk he's become more open by holding your hand. He isn't ready to say the big "L" word just yet, so this is the most he can muster. Whenever he's too harsh now he'll apologize by hugging you to him. David is still scared of getting close, but he's more afraid of pushing you away from his lack of filter.

Dwayne

It takes a lot to ruffle Dwayne's feathers, so already he's not one to be careless with his words. Unfortunately once he's pushed to that point all bets are off. This usually dismissive vampire of little words becomes an eruption of rage. A lot of it is physical. He'll throw a table or punch a hole in a cement wall. He doesn't mean to scare you. When he gets that worked up he becomes unbelievably tense, almost his body's way of warning you not to push him. With fangs out, standing in the wreckage of his rage he'll pause to see you failing to hold back a mess of tears and immediately stops.

At that point he's exhausted. Rage takes a lot out of him, in the end he just feels flustered and a bit ashamed for losing his cool. The longest a fight lasts is maybe a day or two, usually you give each other space but once he's made you cry that's a different story.

Even if you started the fight he recognizes he shouldn't have done what he did. Temper or not, that's not an excuse to blow up at you. He'll be frustrated with himself for losing grasp of his emotions, and he'll probably take some time to think over his words before trying to solve the issue. It's hard to look at someone else's point of view when you're pissed off at them, he knows that better than anyone. Especially since he grew up with siblings before becoming a vampire. When he's got a good grasp on himself he'll probably try to settle things with you so that you two can get things back to normal.

"Y/N… come here, please," he'll say softly, patting the seat next to him on the couch. As soon as you do, he slings his arm around your shoulder and yanks you into his chest. He doesn't look down at you or say a word, he'll rest his chin on his fist looking straight ahead searching for the right words. If it was a mutual argument he'll explain his own point of view after apologizing for losing his temper, and when it's your turn he'll listen quietly. If it was on him, he's even more remorseful. He's reaching almost a hundred years old by now, he should know better. Truthfully he had the same issue when he was alive, but he never meant to drive you to tears. You'll both sit quietly together on the couch, Dwayne rubbing your back until you've calmed down. After all is said and done he'll tell you how much he loves you, he doesn't want to leave any negative feelings still in your heart. Relationships are a pain, he knows that, but he cares about you more than his own life. 

Paul

Oh when you two go at it the gloves are off! Paul is the most emotional of the group, so when he gets mad all he sees is red. There will be a massive amount of yelling, he may even be fighting back some tears himself. He'll get physically frustrated, punching walls, throwing furniture, kicking things over. Yes, he might get in your face, and you can definitely expect him to bare his teeth at you. Especially if you're in his face too. By now it's not scary, just even more infuriating that he's trying to make to back out using intimidation. 

When you cry it can go one of two ways. It really depends on the context of the fight.

If you started it, or it was a mutual argument he may storm off somewhere in the cave. To him crying can be a cheap tactic to make him feel guilty, so if you've done it when you've done something wrong it upsets him… even more so because he feels like crap! He hates fighting with you! You're his kitten, his babe, regardless whether or not you started the fight he feels terrible seeing you like that. He's just so damn frustrated! After mellowing out with a thick ol' stick of the devil's lettuce he'll sulk out with his hands in his pockets. If you're still there he'll plop next to you and explain why he was so ticked off. Granted, it isn't exactly eloquent the way he puts it. After all emotions are tricky, he doesn't always know how to express himself verbally. If you've already left and it's still night, he'll fly over to your place and try to settle things with you. He doesn't want to go to bed angry at you, and he definitely doesn't want you going to bed upset with him.

If the fight was started by him, or if you're genuinely upset he'll stop. Especially if your tears are from him hurting you. Then it's all love. He sets aside his temper, and pulls you into his arms. It'll take a moment for him to calm down, but it's just a plethora of tender apologies while he holds you.

"I'm sorry kitty-cat," he coaxes you, holding your head to his chest. "Don't cry, okay? I hate it when you cry." 

If you aren't emotionally drained there'll probably be a lot of make-up sex in either situation. Once you two have made up, he wants to do everything he can to be close to you. Plus, he needs a release as well. Afterwards, he'll snuggle up to you still wearily mumbling apologies under his breath. 

Marko

Anger isn't a common emotion for Marko. Well, unchecked rage that is. He can get a little irritated, but it really takes a lot for him to lose his temper. Even still it's closer to David's methods than Paul. Again it's the context. If you've done something wrong or started the fight he'll be more prone to outbursts. 

While you're screaming at him, in his face he'll just watch you silently with a blank stare. On the surface he's calm. There's not a lot of yelling, but there can be some physical rage if you really push him. Marko would punch the wall and leave a crumbling chasm in his path, reminding you what happens when he's pushed too far. Truthfully he'd never put you in harm's way, but when he gets like this it's hard for him to stifle his predatorial rage that tends to poke through the cracks. 

If he's the one who's upset with you, even if it's on him, he probably won't let on at first. While not petty, he'll seem distant from you. In public he'll yank you to him like a wolf warning others to stay away from his mate, but alone in private won't touch you as much. You may try to ace your hand on his shoulder and he'd immediately excuse himself from the room to sulk. If you really get clingy he grows even more agitated and will have very rough angry sex with you, his fangs may even come out in the process. Especially if he's jealous.

 When you cry, it sucks. During a fight, after jealous defiling, when he intimidates you, it just sucks. If you step away from him he knows he's messed up. 

Part of him doesn't want to cave in so easily to your displays of emotion, but if you're legitimately hurt by his actions he'll just let out an exasperated sigh. He may excuse himself verbally for a moment to try and gather his thoughts, or he'll sit you down and try to explain his reasons for being so enraged. If it's on him he'll carry you to the couch and hold you to him. 

"*sigh* Look.. I'm sorry for going overboard the way I did, baby girl. I shouldn't have done that…"

If you cry after sex he'll feel like an utter asshole and hold you tight to him. He'll pet your hair, rub your back, even offer to let you smack him for being such a jerk. He may try to nibble your neck over kiss you until you start to giggle then give you his signature smile.

"There she is. I'm sorry I made you so sad, baby girl."

In all honesty this isn't a common occurrence. Marko still rarely ever gets mad at you, most of the time he's very laid back. So losing his temper is a bit jarring for him as well. He's never sure what will come out when he loses his temper, which is a huge reason why he does everything he can to keep himself in check. You may be a pain in the butt sometimes, but so can he. And above all, you're his pain in the butt. He still loves you more than anything at the end of the day. 

[godkilller]

@izzabizz139

I wanna hear you rant about the Gin vs Hitsugaya anime fight bc I love seeing your pov and you clearly write better than whoever extended that scene :) pretty please

          out of character.  DON’T ENABLE ME SO MUCH !!  No but I cackled when I first saw this ask because oh my god, clearly you saw a taste of my annoyance about the anime adaptation -- no, adaptation implies it was accurate, I’ll say the anime’s take was “inspired by” the manga’s quick run-in. I’ll start by saying this moment is supposed to be a bit important considering, via the audience’s point of view, THIS IS THE FIRST WE SEE OF TWO CAPTAIN-RANKED SHINIGAMI CLASHING. The only other captain-involved fight we’ve seen thus far in the manga is Kenpachi  ( who is an outlier and should not be counted... no, I joke... but, still, Ichigo was not an equal to him, his sword was sliced through like butter. )  The whole reason I enjoyed this encounter between Toshiro and Gin was simply this; it wasn’t some fancy multi-chaptered fight. IN THE MANGA, THERE ARE ONLY TWO BLOWS MADE. One, by Toshiro, to begin the fight. The second, to end it, is Gin’s strike.

          I want you to know that I’ve rewatched this specifically to answer this ask, and only due to this, as I wouldn’t have ever sought it out otherwise. HONOR MY SACRIFICE.

          Read more for length. I’m merciful.

          In the anime, they monologue at each other, and it’s mostly a combination of Toshiro making three separate death threats  ( he starts this off by saying “I’ll kill you before Hinamori arrives” and then goes on rewording it each time, and then also repeats the death-threat he gave Gin prior to this conflict about “I’ll kill you if Hinamori bleeds” )  and then also Gin and Izuru talking about how truly powerful and amazing Toshiro is -- no, this isn’t me being bitter or petty, I literally shit you not, Gin has a line that is legit “AS EXPECTED FROM HITSUGAYA TOSHIRO, CAPTAIN OF THE TENTH DIVISION, A CHILD PRODIGY OF TH' SORT THAT ONLY COMES ALONG ONLY ONCE EVERY FEW CENTURIES. HOW VEEEERY DANGEROUS. YOU’RE SERIOUS, AIN’T YA?” like don’t get me wrong, love a good sarcastic little shit comment like that, but the amount of times the anime pumps Toshiro up like he’s their shinest new cash cow ( and he is, at this point, it is not even 50 episodes into the series and they’ve realized everyone likes him and he’s jumped to high ranks in popularity polls... earning him filler spotlights, and eventually his very own non-canon movie )  so everything coming out of Gin’s mouth feels like more bullshit than necessary. Izuru’s already literally monologued, internally, how powerful and amazing Toshiro is anyways. Why this ?

          Not to mention that, prior to saying that long-winded shit, Gin’s haori changed length three times  ( and once it was longer than his entire body by several feet, and no not in a ‘to show motion’ way )  and most importantly Shinso was drawn, consistently, at katana-length for the duration of their little spat where the following, too, happened: Gin frog-leaps after doing a backflip, Toshiro gives Gin two (2) haircuts, Gin ruins some floorboards and gives Toshiro at least one splinter in his arm, Toshiro whilst wearing socks lands on Shinso’s blunt edge and pushes the sword down with his footsie because that’s how that works, there’s another backflip somewhere in there that Gin doesn’t need to be doing, twirl, twirl, and ballet, Gin’s face elongates until his chin is bigger than his face, Gin spends ten+ seconds purely dodging very close strikes to his face as Toshiro is the only one making breathy growly and ‘tsuuaaah’ sounds, there is a brief moment of no gravity as Toshiro keeps hacking at Gin midair and Gin blocks it over and over again but they still stay in the air but they’re not standing or jumping or using reiatsu they’re just like, momentum-locked I don’t fucking know, Gin frowny faces as he blocks because like somehow this kid who doesn’t even have more reiatsu than him, whose arm strength should not be an issue, is like. making him nervous?? as sword sparks fly. if you know me at all you know I hate when they fuckin’ firework sparkler-ify swords clashing.

          Anyways, all of this happens whilst Shinso is the wrong length and Gin’s hair is getting purpler by the second and this entire thing is somehow a big jack-off to Toshiro’s immense strength even though he’s screaming and wailing at Gin like a child and Gin’s just a vessel at this point to Enhance Toshiro, which, fine, okay, but at least be more accurate with it god damn. ANYWAYS,

          THEY JOUST. They literally run at each other, swords centered, and run past / to the side of one another. Jousting. “Cause that’s how that works. No slashes, no cutting motion. Just swords centered, because the animators were like “no worries guys I know swordfighting basics that’s a legit pose” yeah it is WHEN STATIONARY. Not rUNNING IT DOWN.

          And then Gin’s sleeve is cut, somehow, from the Jousting, because wow Toshiro wow wow wowowowow, and then Toshiro comes back and starts wailing at Gin again and Gin blocks it, again, and it’s all very annoyingly repetitive, and Gin’s frowning and sparks are flying and Gin’s using Shinso, the katana-length wakizashi I guess, with two hands because like I said, the animators knew basics and basics are “katana are used two-handed” like. Okay, you’re not wrong, but I cannot stress this enough: SHINSO IS NOT A KATANA. It’s shorter and meant to be used single-handed!!!! sTop!!! So then Gin rips off the tattered part of his sleeve and throws it at Toshiro, who swipes it away from his face using his Zanpakuto because that’s intelligent and a piece of cloth was definitely threatening enough to use your sword to bat it away  ( btw, Hitsugaya wasn’t holding his sword with two hands at this precise moment, so he could have just... used his other hand )  and then Gin goes in for the classic “stabby stabby rapidly at you while the animation gets a little breather because we repeat this cycle a few times with flashy bgs and phew money made” ... WE ARE FOUR MINUTES AND THIRTY SECONDS INTO THIS FIGHT BY THE WAY. Gin does this for seventeen (17) agonizing seconds straight. Yes, I counted. That was sixteen and a half too many seconds for me, personally.

          Toshiro somehow lassos Shinso whilst Gin is stabby stabby-ing with Hyourinmaru’s chain component. I say component like it’s somehow some type of beauty guru’s lipstick holder, but really am I that wrong ? When else has he ever used this feature ? Anyways, he lassos Shinso because yeehaw I guess, god I’m falling apart at this point can y’all tell????? I need a drink.

          and so, because now Toshiro has Gin’s sword somehow trapped with chain even though it’s just looped around it, he backflips over Gin for a cool trickshot, no blow issued, just vibes, and Gin uses a big brain moment to tug Shinso and the chains slide off. okay now what. We’re past five minutes into this fight, nonstop.

          SOUNDS LIKE A GOOD TIME FOR GIN TO PAUSE AND APPRECIATE TOSHIRO AGAIN! “I see, I shouldn’t have underestimated you, HItsugaya Toshiro” I’m starting to have a feeling Gin’s VA was told to just wing these lines because the amount of times he fills silences / Gin’s mouth movements with Toshiro’s long-ass name is astounding, he’s definitely drawing blanks here but he sure as hell knows one thing: that damn ice-boy’s name. He continues by saying “I suppose I’ll end up regretting it afterwards.”

          Toshiro says that’s not enough, and it’s really dramatic and cool. His eyes even glow all icy and blue and pretty, like his flowy reiatsu. Aesthetic points were gifted entirely to Toshiro’s animations in this scene. Gin was finished in MS Paint and each new scene they had to draw Shinso from memory and try to remember what hue of purple his hair was at gunpoint. Toshiro lets off a big wave of reiatsu and then it vanishes, and he jumps up reaaaally high. like this guy’s flying. his eyes arent glowing anymore that’s sad. Bring Back Glowing Eyes For Strong Shinigami 2k21.

          Toshiro releases his Shikai, and it’s badass, the sky darkens, Izuru looks distinctly more worried than usual, and Gin’s frowning with his teeth out like Bugs Bunny’s having a bad day, all is right in the world. Toshiro and his released Shikai have a nice moment for the Pics, and a big epic freeze frame blur moment happens with it all coiled and swirling around him. Wrow!  ( click the ‘wrow’ it’s a link to my exact reaction )  Izuru narrates for the third time about how powerful Toshiro is, his reiatsu, his Zanpakuto being a deity who is only unlocked every few centuries. The strongest ice-type sword. Pardon the pun, but that’s... you could say, so cool.

          It can even control the weather. So hey, next time it’s rainy, cold, icy, or snowing and you’re unhappy, it’s time to direct a big fuck you at Toshiro.

          Gin dodges the first dragon, and blocks the second with Shinso because blocking water and ice with a sword makes sense right? This actually takes a solid amount of seconds as Gin cuts through the entire length of this ice dragon noodle. Things dissipate, and pause, too, to really drag this out. Surprisingly, this reveals that Gin’s made a boo-boo, his left arm’s frozen, which doesn’t even mean anything because Gin is right-handed, and Toshiro teleports himself behind Gin in true fighty fashion.

          We have arrived at seven minutes and just under twenty seconds of this fight, and Gin turns, DOES THE UNTHINKABLE, gasp! He opens his eyes. His red, dull, evil, gray-eyebrowed with purple hair eyes, and shoots Shinso through its hideout spot behind his haori. This nearly takes off Toshiro’s eye and upwards of his head, but the little guy dives down fast. The rest happens in slow motion, supposedly, because it takes an eternity and people talk entire full sentences in its span of time.

          Gin asks Toshiro if he’s sure he’d like to dodge that  ( it’s a little late for that ) and says that Momo’ll die if he does. SHINSO SCRAPING ALONG AGAINST HYOURINMARU STRANGELY MAKES NOT A SINGLE SOUND. Mute. Even though before they had no problem animating and adding sounds to them smacking blades earlier. There are soundless sparks though, so there’s that. Yay. Can you tell how exhausted this’s made me? I need a nap.

          Shinso is already more than halfway towards Momo, still unconscious, she most definitely has a serious concussion via Toshiro backhanding her midair consider she’s been unconscious for longer than ten minutes. Toshiro has time to get up off the floor where he dropped to dodge, realize with a shocked gasp, turn, shout her name, and watch as Rangiku arrives in a random glow of gold which never happens ever again and blocks the attack with Haineko. Haineko almost cracks on the impact, and continues growing in damage as Rangiku holds Shinso there, implying that she’s stopped it from reaching one-hundred sword’s lengths to pierce Momo. Yes I’m including that implication / note in here because we love to see Rangiku succeeding in life and being Not-Helpless, all while potentially damaging Haineko severely if it wasn’t able to hold him off. Yikes, Gin!

          Rangiku threatens to join the fight if he doesn’t withdraw his sword. Gin smiles, withdraws it, and then Shunpos away.

          Whatta mess. Oh, and the anime fight was pretty fucked up, too.

          This is a long post, but here’s the manga version:

Toshiro leaps into the air,

This is where the fight actually starts between them:

And end. 

Five pages. Two blows. Does not equate to ten minutes of non-stop fighting and monologues. Sometimes, and I mean this in the most unbiased way possible, less is more.