#im listening im open im receptive

[mariasont]

Negotiating with Mr. H - pt. 2

a/n: part two to this

god im such a shluuuut for this man anyhow happy reading

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!nanny!reader

warnings: 18+ mdni, unprotected p in v (DONT DO THAT, boo tomatoes), use of sir and mr. hotchner in bed, dirty talk, pet names (good girl, sweetheart, honey, etc.), idk im terrible at warnings

wc: 2k

The hours had stretched into days since you all but threw yourself at Mr. Hotchner. The morning after unfolded with him dodging your company as if you were a wildfire, claiming a day at the zoo with Jack as a shield, yet you saw it as a deliberate distance he put between you. No sooner had they returned, the call for a case arrived. Typical.

But you found no room for embarrassment within yourself; you had played your hand, and he had been receptive, at least so you thought. If he had changed his mind, that was within his right; still, you wished he'd say something about it.

Your fingers tenderly combed through Jack's hair, the soft strands slipping between them, as you gently closed the book, careful not to wake him. He had a nightmare, but you soothed away the scary bits with 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar', as you coaxed him back to sleep. It was his go-to comfort read--and secretly, yours too. You eased your legs over the edge, each step a muted brush against the carpet. You flicked off the light, the soft thud of the book on the nightstand, and you stepped into the hallway--the door sealing behind you softly.

You moved with soft steps towards your room, hands outstretched as they found the doorknob, pushing it open with the slightest pressure. You froze mid-step, the distinct click of the front door's latch piercing the silence. Subconsciously, a plan formed in your mind, as if waiting for this cue. You made a beeline for the closet, fingers flying as you shimmied into your favorite panties and a cropped white long sleeve that highlighting your stiffening nipples. Listening intently for the sound of his footsteps, you slid under the sheets, the door left invitingly open, your legs peeking out as if by chance.

Was this wrong? Certainly, but the blood rushing to your cunt didn't care. You were acutely aware of each groan from the wooden steps under his weight as he made his way upstairs, and you could almost catch the hush of his breath as he lingered at Jack's room, the door's creak broadcasting his quiet check.

You snapped your eyes shut, the sound of his nearing steps triggering an automatic response. You knew he'd have to pass your room to get to his. Every sense tingled to life as his footsteps hesitated at your door. Even with your back facing him, you felt his eyes roam over you, his breath turning heavy, hanging in the air.

You exhaled a shaky breath, feeling it vibrate through the stillness as he continued on to his room. The urge to swear was heavy on your tongue, the realization dawning that your plan had left no impression on him. You turned restlessly, feeling the bite of your failed efforts. Yet, when you propped yourself up, there he was--Mr. Hotchner, standing motionless in the doorway.

"Oh, Mr. Hotchner! I--I didn't realize you were home. How was the case?" Your question floated on a note higher than usual, yet you made no move to hide your body from him, welcoming the observation.

"Really? You didn't hear me? I could have sworn I heard movement in your room as I came in," he remarked, his piercing gaze locking onto you as he casually propped himself against the frame of the door.

"Movement? Could've been the wind," you suggest, your smile bright and inviting, arms falling away to give him a full display of your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt.

His response is brief, a deliberate blink, a silent count to ten, before his gaze sharpens, a frown forming as he closes the distance between you, the door shutting behind him. "The wind, huh?" he echoed, "I've been neck-deep in a nightmare of case, and this is what I come home to?"

You maneuver closer, your legs now casually exposed as you perch on the bed's edge. "What's wrong, Mr. Hotchner? Don't appreciate the view?"

His presence fills the space by your bed. "The view," he begins, his eyes taking a leisurely journey from your exposed legs up to meet your gaze, "is more than agreeable."

You hand snakes out, catching the silk of that god damn tie, drawing him closer. "Well. Mr. Hotchner, aren't you going to do something about this agreeable view?" you challenge, eyes wide and expectant.

Assertively, he captures your chin, his thumb brushing your cheek. "You should know by now, I'm very much a man of action."

He leans down, a predator claiming his willing prey, and his mouth captures yours in a kiss that sends a surge of electricity through your veins, your fingers curling into the fabric of his suit as if the meld him into you. The way his lips were attached to yours sent shockwaves straight to your core, hands moving from his lapels to his hair.

"Didn't think you had it in you, Mr. Hotchn--," you mumbled against his mouth, but you were swiftly cut off as his teeth dug into your bottom lip.

"The next time you say my name, it's going to be when my cock is buried so deep inside you that you can't form anything else but that name."

And in that moment, you could've sworn you'd never felt desire until he said those words. He began to trail sloppy kisses up your neck, your head arching back, surrendering to the sweet attention he lavished upon the column of your throat. There was a quiet authority in his actions, as he parted your thighs, his fingers grazing closer to your clothed cunt as his other hand pushed you flat against the bed.

A gasp fluttered from your lips, a delicate sound of shock. You would've never pegged him to be like this in bed. So fucking demanding. Your thighs instinctively sought each other, but his large hand held them apart, keeping you open, vulnerable.

You looked up at him with doe eyes, wide and brimming with lust, and it reflected a beauty so intense he was sure it could halt time. He was sure he must've done something right in this life to be privileged enough to see you like this—so submissive despite your big talk, so eager to please. It sent a rush to every part of his body, specifically his cock which stretched against his dress pants, begging to be released.

He wanted to take his time, to worship your body in the way it deserved, but there was nothing slow or soft about his movements. His hands explored every inch of your body as if he'd been touch starved his whole life.

"Pl-Please, sir, please touch me," you begged, your hips bucking against the graze of his hands.

The word 'sir' triggered a slight twitch in his cock, his voice a throaty rumble. "Feel that? I'm touching you, honey," he teased, his touch a tantalizing drag against your skin, inching your shirt upward, a smug smile etched on his handsome face.

"You know what I mean," you insisted, your hand intertwining with his in a silent plea, guiding them to where you wanted.

"I can't read your mind, sweetheart," he chides softly, his touch retreating teasingly, "be a good girl and tell me where you want me to touch you."

Your mind was going blank, so desperate for him you could almost feel your arousal leaking down your thighs.

"Here?" he questioned, his hands coming to rest on your ankles as he propped them on the edge of the bed, leaving your legs spread wide in front of him. You shook your head in response, a whine leaving your lips, "or here," he said, his hands moving up to your thighs.

You wiggled in his grip. "Mmm, getting closer aren't I?" he taunted, "use your words pretty girl, tell me how to help."

"Mr. Hotchner, please, need you inside me," your words were more slurred than you intended, sitting up to lock your hands behind his neck, your breath fanning his.

"You don't need it, you want it," he corrected, his lips brushing the sensitive skin behind your ear, his arm a steady band across your back, pulling you closer. "However, lucky for you, I'm inclined to be generous."

His hands eased you back towards the bed, your hands fingering through his hair as he made quick work with your underwear before tapping your shirt. "Take this off honey."

Without hesitation, you complied, flinging it carelessly to the bed's opposite edge, shifting to prop yourself up on your elbows. 

 "God, you're so beautiful."

The words seemed to empty your lungs of air, your face turning a delicate shade of pink as you beamed at him, your smile sticky with sweetness. His fingers found your nipples, teasing and tugging as you let out soft little whimpers, arching into his touch.

"Feels so good, sir," you moaned, hands digging into the sheets, leaning towards him to close the distance between you two, your lips seeking his in a tender collision.

You could sense his mouth curve into a silent smirk against yours as his hands moved with unhurried intent to your swollen clit, eliciting an involuntary gasp from you as you writhed on the mattress. You could hear his other hand undoing his belt as his continued his leisurely movements against your cunt. In a smooth, practiced motion, he pulled out his cock from his pants.

Your mouth parted slightly at the length of it, and you had to fight off the urge to drool at the sight. Thankfully he didn't make you beg for it, sliding into you with an ease that made your head fall back against the mattress.

"Shit," he hissed, his hands finding a natural perch upon the gentle swell of your hips. "You're so wet, honey. How long have you wanted this? Hmm?"

"S-So long," you muttered, a moan pausing your sentence, "wanted you for so long."

"I know, pretty girl," he murmured, his words interlaced with the obscene sound of his length pounding in and out of your drenched pussy. 

"Feels so good, Mr. Hotchner."

He let out a soft groan in response, his hands tangling through your hair. Your name rolled off his tongue as you clenched around him. He had to move his hands to the bed beside your head, trying to resist the urge to absolutely destroy you.

Your moans heightened with each thrust causing his hand to fly over your mouth, eyes rolling back to your head. "Need you to be quiet, honey. You can do that for me can't you?"

You nodded desperately against his palm, hands reaching out to close around his shoulders as you moved to meet his thrusts, the familiar coil beginning to wind in your core.

"I know you're close, sweetheart. Need you to hold on just a little longer."

He let out a breathy chuckle at your body's reaction, desperately bucking against him. Hotch revealed in the sound of your pussy squishing around him, so wet you're practically soaking his dress pants.

Your slur his name as he reaches between you, his thumb rubbing feverishly at your clit. "Go ahead, honey, cum for me."

His words were all you needed, gushing around his cock as he continued to fuck you through your high. He let out a strangled groan of his own, pumping you full of his cum. His large body slumped against yours, his head ducking into the crook of your neck as you both attempted to catch your breath.

He slowly lifted off of you, tucking his cock back into his pants as moved to grasp your ankle, rubbing comforting circles over the skin.

"Tell me, was that personal bonus sufficient for you?"

Your giggle, light and airy, filled the space as you gingerly lifted yourself, hands laying a gentle claim on his chest, your smile blooming across your lips. It was in this moment he knew he would do anything to keep you like this--content, utterly fucked and next time in his bed.

"Well, I can't say for sure, Mr. Hotchner," you admit, your kiss on his cheek lingering a moment longer. "I work really hard around here, maybe another round would satiate me."

"I don't know think anything would satiate you, honey."

"Maybe so, but isn't it tempting to see if something can?"

"Undoubtedly."

taglist: @mrs-ssa-hotch

[vivwritesfics]

(Oh My God) They Were Roommates

Chapter Four - Bahrain

Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.

1.3K

Warnings: Mentions of sex and masturbation

Series Masterlist

About This Fic:

This is set in 2020, but COVID doesn't exist in this fic (if you want one about being in Lockdown with a driver, check out Irresistible by @dilemmaontwolegs im obsessed with it). For this fic to work, I've massively changed the driver line up and Carlando will never be teammates, but still best friends

🏎

They'd fallen into an easy pattern. It wasn't friendship, not in the slightest, but they were comfortable with each other.

For the few weeks before they were to fly to Bahrain, they found themselves eating dinner together. Or, rather, one eating dinner while they both sat on the sofa and watched television.

Y/N spent less time in her bedroom. She stopped hiding in there, instead sitting out in the living room with Lando. They didn't talk, they didn't have to. It was just nice having another person around.

It wasn't lost on either of them that the other hadn't had anybody back to the flat. She could hear him at night as he took care of himself, and was sure he could hear her when she did the same. But it was still lonely, and taking care of yourself wasn't the same as having somebody do it for you.

They packed for the first race of the season together. They'd flown out for pre season testing together and Zac was thoroughly impressed that they hadn't killed each other on the flight. They were so busy that day that the media hadn't yet seen it, though.

Y/N couldn't wait for the start of the season, to see the internets reaction to hers and Lando's living situation. They were going to lose their minds, she knew. She hadn't yet thought about the bad parts that were to come with it, though.

Flying together meant carpooling as well.

Y/N wheeled her suitcase out into the living room. She sat on the sofa and went through her phone, looking through the itinerary she had been sent over. After five or so minutes, she stood up, readjusted the orange hat on her head (a hard look to pull off) and knocked on Lando's bedroom door.

"Hey numnuts," she called as she leaned against the door. "Hurry up!"

(Numnuts - an insult, meant lovingly in this context)

"I'm coming!" Lando shouted. Y/N pressed her ear to the door, listening as he zipped up his suitcase and came walking towards the door. He pulled it open and she stepped back, allowing him to walk past.

They set off, Y/N driving and Lando choosing the music. (The phrase choosing is used very lightly here. Y/N gave him her phone and told him what music to put on and he put on what he wanted to put on. It was only when she threatened to kick him out of the car, and then pulled over to actually do so, that Lando put on her music).

They didn't talk much on the flight. Y/N had her headphones over her head, watching the world go by as they took off.

***

It was the first race of the season, where they really got to see what the car could do.

Y/N was buzzing as they went into the first Friday practice of the season. So far it had all been media, with the world finally finding out that Y/N and Lando were roommates. The news had gone up on F1 news sites and were on gossip sights only seconds after that.

It was a mixed reception. The one thing that could be agreed on was that every single F1 fan was losing their mind.

Back to Friday practices. Y/N was one of the first out on the track, pushing the car around the circuit. She loved Bahrain, loved pushing the McLaren around the corners, loved overtaking on the straights.

Her goal for the race on Sunday should have been coming first. That should have been her only goal for every race. But, for Y/N, she just wanted to pass Lando. Her wins would come; as long as she was loving what she was doing, she'd be improving race by race. At least that was her mentality.

When her engineer told her too, she came back into the garage to look at the data.

After going back out onto the track, she had dinner and headed back to her hotel room. It was weird, being in the hotel room without Lando there to annoy her.

Even just having him sat on the end of her bed, just being in his presence, would have been nice. She didn't exactly miss him, just missed being around another person. It had been a long few days without him.

Saturday rolled around and Y/N was hopeful for a good qualifying. Q3 at least. With how Friday had gone, that seemed more than possible.

But a problem with the car meant that she had to retire out of Q1. Lando made it to Q2, knocked out of Q3 by Carlos Sainz in his yellow Renault.

A weekend that had started out so promising had Y/N wanting to smash up everything in her hotel room. But she didn't she remained cool and calm, congratulating Lando for getting onto the next round of qualifying.

As much as she was pissed about her qualifying results, starting from the back of the grid was fun. She got to fight her way into the midfield. While Lando was fighting his way to the front of the grid, Y/N was fighting with Pierre Gasly in his Toro Rosso.

Lando finished fifth and Y/N finished tenth, just about in the points. If it wasn't for the fault in her car during qualifying, she would have been proud of the results she got. But she was convinced she could have gotten on the podium if only she had a working car the day before.

Her post race interviews weren't about the racing. They were about her living situation with Lando, and it was really starting to piss her off.

As much as she wanted to head straight back to England, back to their apartment, she had to wait for Lando. Lando, who Max Verstappen wanted to take out partying. Lando, who was more than happy to go with him.

But then Y/N knocked on the door to his hotel room. She had already packed away her things and had changed into something more comfortable. Although Bahrain was hot, she still wore a hoodie and sweats.

Dressed ready to go out to a club with Max, Lando pulled open the door. "Hey," he said, his eyes widening when he saw her. "You okay?"

"Just wanted to see if you were going out or not," She said quietly as she looked down at her shoes.

A pang of guilt went through him. He'd been pretty happy with the first race of the season, having only just missed out on the podium, but he knew she hadn't had the greatest weekend and it was weighing on her.

"You wanna come in while I finish packing my bags?"

With her hands in the pockets of her hoodie, Y/N walked into Lando's hotel room. His bags were half packed and she was entirely sure that he wanted to go out clubbing. "We can go tomorrow," she said as she sat in the oddly plush chair at the vanity, her legs beneath her.

"No no, I'm almost done," he said as he shoved the last of his things into his bag.

She muttered a quiet 'thank you' under her breath as she pulled her hood up over her head.

Lando packed his bag in silence. Once he was done, Y/N went back to her room to get her own bags. And then, with Lando behind her, she walked out of the hotel.

It wasn't that Max Verstappen was trying to be an asshole, but he couldn't stop himself from sending Lando pictures and videos from his night out. Lando couldn't help but hate that he missed it.

But, when he looked at Y/N as she sat on the plane, still wearing a hood but also a small smile as she watched a movie on her phone, he realised it was all worth it.

Taglist (OPEN): @biancathecool @hollie911 @topguncultleader @annispamz @carlossainzwho @spideybv28 @wherethefuckisthething @fangirl125reader @minkyungseokie @marialovesf1 @kitixie @i-wish-this-was-me @bborra @formula1mount @charlotte1697 @formulaal @eviethetheatrefreak @lordpercivalcharles @venisvendetta @marie0v @tbsloneely @laur20a23 @formulas-bitch @cmleitora @marvelavengers000 @gills-lounge @andydrysdalerogers @demipatterns @holy-macncheese-balls @jule239 @aexitizen-ln4 @landosgirlxoxo @allinestarr @starmanv @st0rmzi3 @random-human02 @nocoolusernamesavailable-blog @happymeal777 @ashy-kit @juniper-july19 @im-an-overthinker @haylenxx @kapsylia @prettiest-at-the-party

[specialagentlokitty]

Will Graham x teen!reader - our support animals

Hi I would like a request for Will Graham and teen Reader getting a dog and somehow gets an old boy who was returned 5 times? - Anon💜

Sitting on the steps in front of your school, you glanced down at your watch in order to check the time, wondering if it was worth just going for a walk or not.

You didn’t want to be at school, so you had messaged Will asking if he could come pick you up since you didn’t know who else to call at this point.

Finally you saw his car pulling up outside, and you got up, making your way to the passenger side in order to get in.

“Thanks for getting me…” you mumbled.

“Are you okay?” Will asked.

You gave a small shrug, resting your head on the window as you watched everything just rolling by.

“Not ready to go back?”

“No… I don’t know I just… all those people.. all looking at me.. I don’t know..”

Will glanced at you, turning his attention back to the road.

“They know what happened.” He said.

“I mean who doesn’t at this point? My parents were murdered a nearly a year ago, they weren’t all that great at parents anyways and now im in the care of an FBI agent who isn’t really FBI agent. I missed the rest of the school year last year and news travels fast I guess.”

“You don’t have to be in my care if you don’t want to be. Children’s services already said they can easily find you a home if you want it.”

You whipped your head around to look at him.

“No!”

You frowned a little.

“I just… I don’t.. they’ll all be happy families…”

“You can’t be around that right now, I understand that.”

You nodded your head, looking back to the road, trying to figure out where you guys were going.

“I’m sorry I made you leave work.”

“It’s fine, I wasn’t doing anything interesting anyway, and I don’t think I could have sat there listening to Jack for much longer.”

This made you smile a little bit, and you look at him.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out a minute.”

You turned back to watching the roads go by, and finally Will pulled the car into a parking lot, and you climbed out of the car.

“A rescue?”

“I know you love the dogs, you get sad when they all follow me not you. So, we’re going to get you your own dog, Hannibal believes having a pet may help in your recovery.”

You furrowed your brow and Will opened the door to the rescue, gesturing for you to enter, and you did looking around.

While he went to talk to the people in the reception, you looked around, wondering about to look at posters and photos of the animals they had up for adoption.

You weren’t paying that much attention to anything else that going on, and every so often Will would glance at you to make sure that you were still there.

“(Y/N), please don’t wonder away.”

You turned to look at Will and he held his arm out to you.

You walked over and stood next to him, you turned away from the receptionist, and Will kept a hand on your shoulder.

“Is there anything specific you’re looking for in a pet?” The woman asked.

Will looked down at you and you shook your head.

“Can we just look at them all?”

“If you want to then yes.” He smiled.

He carried on speaking to the woman, and you stretched a little bit, letting out a yawn as you waited.

Finally you were allowed to walk through and have a look at all the dogs.

There was a lot of barking, and in a strange way it put you at ease, living with Will as your caretaker for nearly a year had made you used to the sounds of barking.

“What about this one?” Will asked.

You walked over to him.

“It says her name is Luna, she’s a husky, she’s two years old, is very friendly, gets along with other dogs, was surrendered because the family couldn’t keep up with the upkeep of a husky.”

You looked at Luna, crouching down to see her better, and she paced back and forth, tail wagging happily.

“She’s really cute.”

“Do you want to keep looking?”

You nodded, letting Will help you stand up.

You carried on slowly wondering, stopping to look at all the dogs you past, Will would read you the information about them and you would keep wondering.

Will had taken particular interest in one of the dogs and you kept looking around at all of them until you reached the end kennel.

You carefully read over the information on the board and you sat down on the floor.

“Hey Enzo…”

The old Labrador lazily wagged his tail as he wondered over, laying down in front of the door, resting his head on his paws.

“Will?”

You turned to look at him and he got up, following after you.

“What is it?” He asked.

“I want Enzo.”

Will knelt down next to you, looking at the old dog.

“Yeah? What’s his story?”

“They’re not sure how old he is, but they do know he’s old. He’s been returned five times, apparently nobody wants to keep cause he’s old. That’s not fair…”

“It’s not.”

Will got up, placing a hand on your head to get your attention.

“Let’s go get one of the staff.”

“Can I stay with Enzo?”

Will glanced around, he didn’t seem so sure about the idea of leaving you alone there, but he saw there was only one entrance and exit.

“Alright, I’ll be just a minute.”

Will made his way to get a member of staff so you could meet the old Labrador and you sat on the floor, Enzo resting against your chest as you hugged him.

Will and the worker both smiled at the scene of you just cuddling this old dog who had been returned so many times.

“We’ll adopt him.” Will said.

You turned around to Will, smiling from ear to ear at him.

“I love him, he’s so sweet.”

“Well you have to love him because he’s yours and we’re not bringing him back.”

“Good.” You said.

Will filled out all the paperwork while you sat in the back of his car with Enzo, just happily petting the dogs head.

You were excited to bring Enzo back to meet all of Will’s dogs, and Enzo was pretty happy to go around with them all, wondering and exploring his new home.

You sat on the floor, waiting for him to come back so you could go back to petting him.

Will was sitting on the couch, stroking one of the other dogs.

“Do you think he knows any tricks?” You asked.

“I’m not sure, you’ll have to try. Go get the dog treats.”

You jumped up, running to the kitchen to get the dog treats and you sat on the couch next to Will, handing them to him.

You didn’t know as much about dogs as Will did, so you decided to let him see if Enzo knew any tricks or anything of the sort.

“Enzo come here boy!” You called.

The old slowly wondered over, stretching a little as he approached.

“Here, just hold this in your hand, let him see it.”

You did want Will said.

“Now, just say his name and whatever it is you’re wanting him to do.”

“Enzo sit.”

The old dog sat down, along with a few others.

“Now, give him the treat, scratch his head and tell him he’s a good dog. Positive actions mean he’ll bond to you more.”

“Good boy Enzo.”

You handed the Labrador his treat, and ruffled the fur behind his ears, grinning from ear to ear.

“We’ll get him settled in before we take him outside, and we’ll rest his recall while we’re here too.”

“Recall?”

You turned to look at Will.

“Yes. It’s how well an animal responds when you call their name, call them back to you, especially off leash dogs it’s very important.”

“Oh, if he doesn’t have good recall can we teach him it.”

Will smiled a little.

“Yeah, we can try to.”

“He’s gonna be my dog, you’re not allowed Enzo.”

Will chuckled a little bit at you.

“What if he likes me more?”

“Nope. He’s my dog.”

You sat back on the couch, patting your legs for Enzo, and he lazily climbed up, laying himself next to you with his head resting on your legs.

“Oh (Y/N) come on.”

Will had to stand up to let the dog lay down properly and you grinned from ear to ear at him.

“Do you want dinner yet?” Will asked.

“Uh, not yet. I’m not hungry. Can I help you cook it soon though? I don’t know how to cook.”

“I’ll teach you.”

You smiled, turning your attention back to Enzo and Will wondered away to do his own thing, happy that you were content there with your new family member.

He was hoping Enzo would help you in ways that he couldn’t, and since you refused to take part in any therapy he was hoping Enzo could be that support you needed especially on days when he couldn’t figure out how to help you.

Maybe there wasn’t fully enough room for another dog, but Will didn’t care about that, he could just adjust things a little if he needed too.

He had all his strays, and now you had Enzo, you both had your dogs for support, and you both had each other even if neither of you spoke about how you had fallen into Will’s care.

It didn’t matter, what mattered to Will now was keeping you safe and happy.

“Do you think he likes snow?” You called.

“I don’t know, we’ll find out soon.” He called back.

“Can he stay in my room?”

Will poked his head out for the kitchen.

“He can stay wherever you want him too (Y/N).”

You nodded your head, laying down on the couch to hug your new best friend

[elvensixpm]

"Death Is Calling" [A Date With Death ]

IM IN LOVE WITH HIM ALSO errmm take this small fanfic ?!? I HAVE NEVER WRITTEN FANFICS BEFORE SO PLEASE FORGIVE ME 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️ MY HEART IS SO FULL OF HIM omg

// spoiler warnings for Ending 3 //

‎ ‎ ‎ When you first kiss Casper, you are pleasantly surprised by how receptive he is.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Your lips press against his, soft and gentle as he lays on your bed, caged by your arms. With his chest pressed against yours, you could feel his heartbeat thumping against his chest, strong— alive. Life thrums in his veins, evident more when you press a kiss upon his neck; to which he lets out a soft moan, and his pulse quickens significantly.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Not too much now,” he gasps, a gloved hand covering his mouth as he averts his gaze, almost like he is shy to your affections. “Oh, shit. Wow.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ A laugh escapes you as you give him a final peck on his cheek, curiously flush but lacking warmth. His skin is cold. No matter. You have enough heat in you to warm him up.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You like it?” you ask, tilting your head, feeling a smile tug at your lips. You roll to the side, plopping yourself next to him. “Was I a good first kiss, Grimmy?”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He snorts. “Yes, of course you were.” He slides an arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. You comply, nestling your head in the crook of his shoulder— breathing in his clean scent. “...And an excellent second kiss. And the six others that followed it were great, too.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Great! I'll make sure to add that to my resume.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He rolls his eyes but it's affection plastered onto his face— and he seemingly has no more energy to think of a clever remark to your sarcasm. He wraps his arms around you, chin resting against the crown of your head, your face flush against his chest as his eyelids flutter shut. You feel a pang of jealousy towards Azrael; was this what it was like to be cuddled in bed?

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Sleep,” you murmur. “Get used to the bed, Casper. Get used to me.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Mmh.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Wait. Take off your clothes.” His eyes shoot open and he raises an eyebrow, opening his mouth to say something. You cut him off before he can, sitting up. “I have a spare t-shirt you can wear.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Oh.” You swear disappointment flashes over his beautiful features. He catches your t-shirt when you toss it over to him, his mouth tightening into a small frown as he inspects the well-worn red and black thing— the print faded and slightly peeling. You avert your gaze as he strips himself, listening to the rustle of the fabric as he slides the t-shirt over his head. “You listen to System of A Down? Wasn't expecting that, sunshine.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Eh. Helps me sleep at night.” You shrug as you keep your eyes trained on the bouquet of stolen sunflowers Casper gave you yesterday, warmth and affection blooming in your chest. You play with the fraying edges of your blanket as you wait for him to finish changing. “Keep it. Matches your whole red-and-black aesthetic, no?”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He laughs, it sounds almost like a snort. “Thanks, sunshine. I can't wait to see what other merch I can steal from you next.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ You turn back, pleasantly surprised at how well the t-shirt fits him— slightly oversized so that you could see a tease of porcelain skin from the way the neckline drapes along his exposed shoulder. Your gaze drops down to his lap, where he has taken hostage of one of your pillows— likely a temporary placeholder for Azrael.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ You settle back into bed with him, taking your preferred side of the bed, removing the pillow from his arms and tucking yourself back into his arms. He doesn't complain.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It's a wonder how you both feel so comfortable with each other. You wrap him in an embrace, and he doesn't pull away; his arms slot perfectly between yours, and his touch is tender, not bearing the stiffness of unfamiliarity. It's almost as if you've known him your entire life.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Given the fact death has followed you since you were a child, maybe you have. Maybe Casper has grown alongside you, even if it isn't possible given reapers don't exactly ‘grow’. It's a pleasant thought. Sort of like a guardian angel, in a way.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Perhaps that is why you feel so comfortable around death— around him.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ His eyelashes rest upon his cheeks while he sleeps, and his breathing comes and goes in slow, steady breaths. You can't help but stare at him. He's pretty. And he's all yours.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Sleep,” he murmurs, as if sensing your alertness. His eyes open, and you feel a slight pang of regret at waking him— but that all melts away when you feel him run his fingers through your hair soothingly. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your shoulder. “I won't kill you in your sleep, you know. I'm a changed man.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I know, I know, thank you for that,” you chuckle, kissing the crown of his head. “I love you, Casper.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Mm.” His fingers rub soothing circles on your back, as if coaxing you to sleep, and his voice is tender with affection. “Love you too, sunshine.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ You listen to the steady breathing of Casper as he sleeps— a rhythmic melody that threatens to lull you off to sleep as well. You close your eyes and surrender. He snores rather softly, you come to find. You don't mind. Not at all.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ In the midst of life's chaos, you fall asleep in the arms of Death himself.

[betterthana-six]

| MUSIC TO MY EARS - [ABBY ANDERSON] - CHAPTER THREE |

PAIRINGS: stoic!rugby player abby x musician fem!reader

SUMMARY: you and your new(ish) college roommate, Abby Anderson, have gotten into an argument. about what? unclear at the moment. but it's got Abby in a fit of shame. until late one night she hears you outside with someone whose voice she doesn't recognize and listens in.

WARNINGS: heyooo we are so fucking back! AND LOOKIE AT THAT TAG LIST AHHH THANK YOU FOR THE AMAZING RECEPTION SO FAR!!!! LOVE YOU ALL. im having so much fun writing this and watching this story spiral into absolute chaos. im honestly just trying to see how big i can make this story. much more pining this chapter but ooh girl we are getting sexier as we go, trust the process. mdni DUH. ive been wanting to write a pool scene. abby sure be falling in love. let me know if you guys are liking the structure so far, its pretty predictable. abby is snarkier and snarkier, but im always nervous to stay true to her character. let me know what yall like, and even mid story I am open to suggestions or if youre like that or this part wasnt fully fleshed out, why not let me know? im down. k have fun. bye. ALSO: i have a playlist brewing for this story. comment if you want it and ill post.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Music To My Ears: Chapter 3

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

There are tears drying on your chin when Abby abruptly stands up, pulling you up with her, towel still wrapped over your arms. 

She starts pulling clothes out of the depths of her closet and throwing them onto your bed.

“What are you doing?” You sniffle. 

“Put these on.”

“Your clothes won’t fit me. You have something called muscle mass.”

Abby let out a small snicker. “They’re from when I was, like, sixteen. They’ll fit,” she said.

“I have my own clothes, you know,” You gesture to your side of the room. “They’re actually about five feet away from me.”

“You’ll understand when we get there why I’m giving you my old clothes.”

“Are we hiking?”

“You hush.”

“Oh my god, is it paintball?”

“Yeah,” she says. “It’s paintball. The 24-hour paintball park is awaiting our arrival as we speak. How’d you guess?”

You smirk bashfully. “I’ll only put them on if you tell me what we’re doing.”

She plants herself a foot in front of you and tilts her head down. “You’re no fun.” She shoves one of her rugby sweatshirts into your stomach. “Let’s have fun. Actual fun. Come on, it’s the weekend for fuck’s sake. I just… I know a place.”

You lower the towel like a shawl around your elbows and walk over to your bed, as Abby’s eyes follow you. Seeing her, you jut your jaw out at her, waving your index finger in a circle. Abby's response was a bit delayed, she catches her eyes getting lost on your silhouette again, and struts slowly around to face her side. 

You sigh and put the clothes on. The feeling of warmth from the dry clothes covers your body with a chill and you’re nearly sedated with comfort. While Abby is still turned away, you bring the sleeve of her hoodie up to your nose and smell it as quietly as you could. 

“I’m ready,” you say.

Abby opens the door out to the hallway. Nobody’s out there. It’s nearly 1 am.

You still look both ways nervously, and Abby notes it, but neither of you say anything. She guides you down the hallway, the sound of her keys jangling against her thigh, hanging from the carabiner locked around her belt loop. She is sure to keep you close to her. Each time you sway or stumble a bit, she grabs your wrist and holds you up. Though, of course, you put a hand up every time to insist that you’re fine. 

You are still drunk. It is indeed still obvious. 

Abby turns a corner and halts the journey in front of a vending machine which blares with light in its dark corner. “Hold up, one second,” she says, as she inserts a dollar, some coins from her pocket, presses B7, grabs it from the bottom, takes your hand and puts the candy in it.

“Twix is my favorite,” you say.

“I know,” Abby says.

“You know?”

She hesitates and runs a shy hand over the back of her neck under her long braid. “I see wrappers in our trash sometimes.”

You pause with suspicious eyes. 

Abby gives a small laugh and looks away. “Whatever. Eat.”

You bite and it is as forgiving on your stomach as any midnight candy bar can be, especially after the amount of alcohol it's following.

Now, Abby pulls your hand from three paces ahead of you. She seems restless, happily so, in a way you had rarely seen her. Maybe only once or twice in hindsight.

You are already out the doors of your building and into the cool air of early spring. It is almost completely dark but the moon lights the pale sidewalk visibly enough. Once your eyes fully adjust, you can see Abby. Her braid swings back and forth across her back. 

After a ten minute walk through the main circle of campus, Abby takes one of the keys from her hip and opens the entrance of your school’s gym.

She checks your demeanor, and you meet her with a wide-eyed face that says: what the fuck?

“Just trust me,” she says and grabs your hand again, guiding you through the dark corridors and up the stairs, past the treadmills and weight machines. 

As you approach the top, a blue haze lights Abby’s face and then yours. It’s very quiet up there in the announcer’s box, and it looks down onto the college’s Olympic sized swimming pool. You’d only ever seen it from the doors on the bottom level. You remember the first time. People were splashing about in the water but it didn’t ruin the illusion for you. The smell of chlorine. The warm humidity that threatened its way out onto you. You, who stood firmly in the air conditioned hall, pleasantly zoned out on the swimmers.

Even from behind, Abby seems so eager to fulfill her spontaneous promise of a good time. A small smile grows on her face every now and then. You become very aware of your hand in hers. Hers is gruff and big and warm, her thumb securing around your fingers messily. It’s possible you merely imagine the vibration in the space between your palms. Her touch reignites the bliss of your drunkenness, and, again, you feel light on your feet. 

Abby pulls out a key and inserts it into the keyhole for a discreet door. It leads the two of you down two flights of stairs into a locker room with fresh towels piled up into neat stacks. She throws one at you: “Here.”

“No way,” you say. You realize you were so carried away you only now realized what she had brought you here to do.

“I didn’t bring you here for us not to swim.”

You smile big. “Oh, fuck yeah.”

“I knew it would cheer you up.” Abby laughs. 

“Wait,” you think, “someone’s gonna be here. We’re gonna get kicked out.”

“No, we’re not,” she reassures, “I’m friends with the rec team. I asked for the after hours key so I can workout at night. I guess I just forgot to give them back.”

You look at her a little confused, moreso disbelieving. 

“No, really, I swear. Sometimes it’s nice to de-stress at night. Let off a little steam when no one’s around,” Abby says. You smirk and lift her sweatshirt over your head, revealing the light blue tank top Abby had given you.

“Don’t I know it,” you say under your breath.

“Oh?” Abby says. 

“You think I don’t notice when you don’t come back to the dorm until 5 am?” You say with a cocky tone. 

Then, she, too, pulls her sweater off. She was only wearing a thin bra and boxers. You were surprised she wore anything under it at all, given her track record. You quickly note the way you don’t squirm or turn away. Perhaps it’s just a matter of familiarity - you have been roommates for three months now - or, maybe, it’s the way she’s looking at you in this moment. “You notice?” 

The sudden turn of the question makes you stutter.

“I- I mean, the once or twice it's happened. Obviously.”

Instead of laughing at you this time, Abby just stands and looks at you thoughtfully. Intensely. 

“Whatever. Yeah, that was…” she finally says, shaking her head, with a twinge of something shadowing her tone and preventing her from finishing her sentence.  

The both of you have changed completely into her clothes, the clothes she didn’t think twice about letting you ruin with chlorine. You save her from whatever she didn’t want to say. “You could’ve at least told me to bring a swimsuit…” You say. 

“Yeah, well, it would’ve spoiled the surprise,” Abby says.

At the door leading to the pool, Abby turns back suddenly, stopping before speaking.

“Okay, listen. This is a sacred rite. No one besides me, and now you, has access to this place. No one knows I have the keys, and it needs to stay that way.” 

You nod. “Makes sense.”

“Because this will be really fucking fun.”

“Understood.”

“And, I’m showing it to you because you’re having a shitty, no-good night.”

You hold a salute up to your forehead. “Captain, I won't let you down.”

She rolls her eyes to your delight. “Come on.”

You find her hand in yours again. You can’t help but marvel at how natural it was - not because you are surprised - just because it still sends a shiver running down your spine.

The smell of chlorine washes over you and you breathe deep, closing your eyes and feeling the damp air warming your skin. Abby’s in front of you, hooking her phone up to a wire and resting it on the ledge of the spectator window. The speakers overhead start playing music. 

“Holy shit,” you say, looking at her with amazement and pointing up to the ceiling. The Rolling Stones' “She’s A Rainbow” rings out over the speakers and fills the space completely. A smile creeps onto your face, and once it’s there, it’s stuck. 

“How’d I do?” She asks.

You don’t answer but smile at your feet. You walk past her towards the edge of the concrete, sparing a devilish smirk her way right when your shoulders nearly graze each other. Only the pool lights are on, making the whole place shine with the blue dancing patterns of the water ripples. It reflects onto your face, and, when you look back at Abby, she is staring at you.

“You coming?” You ask. 

And Abby eyes dart away in shock, feeling scandalized and taking what you said entirely out of context. She can’t help it; a semblance of those words have been echoing in her head for the last three months, more or less. Jolting her awake from her dreams. Both sleeping and conscious. 

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

The first dream happened about three weeks into living together.

Since that conversation in your room on your first night, neither of you tried to initiate conversation deeper than small talk. The explosive end to that night left you reluctant to speak to her at all and left Abby anxious to say the wrong thing. 

It was the beginning of the semester, anyway. Abby had a routine to establish and you were busy finding the right buildings around campus, keeping your head down, and practicing guitar. 

You hadn’t been able to anticipate her comings and goings. Mostly Abby left for her day without saying a word and came back in the same manner. When she returned in the evenings, you quickly traded the guitar on your lap for earphones while Abby read silently only feet away.

"You can keep playing, I don't mind" is the only thing Abby would sometimes say. "No, it's okay. I should probably just use the practice rooms anyway," was your usual response, if you said anything at all.

The first dream happened when Abby took an impromptu nap in the early afternoon while you were out.

Her dreams involved many strange things she could never comprehend and typically forgot soon after she woke. Yet, toward the end of this dream, she saw nothing but your face, eyes softly closed, there between her legs. It was no in-depth scene. No words. No kissing. Just you, licking a line from her knee up the skin of her inner thigh. 

Abby woke up with a gasp. She looked down to find there was wetness between her thighs, and momentarily she couldn’t distinguish what was and wasn’t real. She was almost convinced that you really were somewhere near, that somehow you had been there between her legs just a moment ago. But, the room was empty and the wetness had come from Abby, herself, of course. 

She found her hand was there, too, under her boxers, to meet her body with stiff, soaked fingers.

She laid there, staring at the ceiling, unsure of what to make of it, still hypnotized in her exhaustion.

She didn’t think about it. Abby began moving her fingers around in circles, her other hand placed on the top of her head, bottom lip tucked slightly under her front teeth. 

She closed her eyes and, without realizing, tried to prolong the feeling that seemed so real only moments ago. 

You popped into her mind. She quickened her pace.

There was something so indulgent about the image she had. It felt dirty. Naughty ideations of her own roommate was something she knew she’d feel guilty about later, a secret that could never be shared. She didn’t know where it had come from specifically, this need for you, but, honestly, she didn’t even try to interrogate it. She just exhaled hard through her nose as she tried to picture you more vividly. 

“Fuck…” She whispered to herself. The feeling built and built and she gripped onto her blanket, breathing hard. 

Just then, the key to your door started jangling. 

Abby stopped immediately, yanked out of her dream and her tiredness altogether. She pulled up the slightly pulled down pants and sat up. She grabbed the book off her desk, opened it to a random page and pretended to be lost in the story by the time you opened the door and walked inside.

She had startled you. 

“Oh, hey,” you said. 

Abby looked up over the page. “Hey.”

“I forgot I need these for my next class,” you explain while gathering two books from your desk and shoving them into your backpack.

“Hm,” she said, feigning disinterest.

You zipped up and turned to leave. “Alright. See you later,” you said but met Abby’s eyes which were already on you. You turned back. “Are you okay?” You asked.

“I’m fine. Why?”

“Oh, nothing, your face is all red.”

Abby just shrugged, at a complete loss for words.

“Okay,” you said without a second thought. “Well, bye.”

“Bye.”

Once you were gone, Abby tossed the book, turned over onto her stomach, and buried her head beneath her pillow. 

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

The dreams, however, only got worse from there. Abby started waking up from dreams with her hand down her pants more often than not and, by morning, they delivered her a head full of thoughts she could barely acknowledge to herself. Dreams of you sitting in her lap, dreams of her fingers in your mouth, dreams of you panting into her ear. She had visions of what you’d look like astride her hips with a smile on your face. Impossible dreams of you seducing her in huge hot tubs, or at fancy dinners with her hand squeezing tight around your thigh under a tablecloth, a gala where you both get locked in the coat closet with nothing but time to kill. These dreams consumed her until late in the day.

If there was one thing Abby promised herself she wouldn’t do is fall in love with a straight girl. Especially her roommate, who she presumed kind of hated her. This new energy you brought to her made her so vulnerable in the dark hours of the night, she felt she had to release it before she got in too deep. 

So, she tried the gym. She started lifting uncharacteristically heavier. She started lifting until failure, until she had completely obliterated her muscles. Her teammates applauded her for her hard work, if only they knew the real reason for the fire lit under her ass.

It helped some. More like distracted her. But she knew the craving hadn’t fully subsided. It only took an hour for it to re-emerge. Sooner if she saw you walking to class or if you tried to spark conversation in the dorm, which was rare but nonetheless excited Abby when it did happen.

One time when you were both getting ready for bed, you turned to Abby and broke the silence.

“Hey, I was wondering…”

“What’s up?” Abby responded. The eagerness with which she asked was out of her control. 

“I, um, well, do you think you could show me around the gym sometime? I didn’t get to see it when I toured, and it’s so big. I’m honestly kind of intimidated-”

“Yes, yeah,” Abby said.

“Cool,” you nodded. “Thank you.”

A moment of silence passed. Abby’s heart raced with the prospect of getting to talk to you so much. Guide you around and show you the place. But in a second, she thought better of it. She needed to contain herself someway or another. 

“Yeah,” Abby continued. “They’ve got a great yoga studio, you know. One has classes and the other one is free for students to use anytime.”

You scoffed. Abby’s face was intentionally blank, waiting to see your reaction.

“Of course,” you said. “Of course, you assume I’d just want to do yoga.”

“I figure you’d want to see it.”

“Okay, well could you just show me the whole gym?”

“Yeah,” Abby said, recoiling from you a bit. She pushed through, wondered if perhaps she could make this worse for herself. Worsening the relationship could force the unwanted thoughts about you to subside entirely. “Sorry. You don’t strike me as a weightlifter.” 

You stopped and looked sharply her way.

“Okay. Forget I asked. I’ll find someone else.”

Just like that, another failed attempt at conversation was over. Her self-sabotage felt far less productive than she thought it would feel. All Abby felt was stupid. Her heart sank lower in her chest.

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

Soon she became so scared of her sleeping self, worried that you'd hear her sleep talking your name or, dear god, catch her fucking herself while she dreamt about eating you out in the quiet section of a library. The idea was so mortifying to her that she nearly couldn’t sleep with you in the room at all, which was every night. 

She grew anxious, unable to control herself and unable to sleep. Practice became lackluster. Lifting felt ineffectual. Still, she knew she couldn’t let the levee break. She needed respite in any form and, eventually, Abby realized she was desperate. 

One day before rugby practice, she texted Nora, a girl Abby fucked on and off for a majority of her freshman year. Abby liked Nora because she was as impersonal about hooking up as Abby was. It was a clean-cut fuck buddy deal she knew she could rely on if she wanted.

The next Thursday, Nora took Abby in like an old friend. She sat her down and opened a bottle of wine, performed the pleasantries of simple conversation, caught up with school and sports and life, and eventually led Abby to the bedroom.

They knew what they were there to do.

In a blur, Abby found her arms wrapped around Nora's lower back as she pressed her face flesh to Nora's chest, guiding her through a sweaty orgasm which seemed satisfactory. 

When Nora tried to return the favor, Abby was completely dry. 

She had been mentally elsewhere since the moment she knocked on the door. 

She played it off as just being out of it, just wanting to please Nora that night. So, Abby haphazardly thanked her for the wine, as it was really the only thing Nora could give Abby that night besides for a spacious bed outside of the dorms, and they went to sleep.

But Abby could only stare up at the ceiling as Nora breathed heavily beside her in a deep sleep. 

She decided to walk back to the dorm. It was early and the sun was just starting to light up the sky. You were asleep, and when Abby closed the door, you sprawled out in your bed, strands of hair curled and scattered messily around your face. She watched you sleep for a second, feeling gross and cold and wired. She still couldn’t sleep, so she turned on her desk lamp and read in an attempt to forget her last two or three decisions.

When the sun was finally up, you turned over in your bed and pushed your covers down to your feet, stretching out until your hands hit the headboard. You saw Abby was already up, only reading in bed as you often found her.

“No gym today?” You yawned.

Abby looked over at you and just shook her head. 

“You look tired.”

“Good morning to you, too,” Abby said.

You nodded, grabbed your toiletry bag, and left. 

Half of Abby convinced herself you knew what she’d been doing the night before, which only made her feel dirtier. Moreover she believed that even if you knew, in agreement with how she wanted to keep things, you were totally indifferent.

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

Abby’s logic wasn’t flawless. She thought she had been doing all the right things. She fucked it out of her system, as far as she was concerned, so after that she got right back into the swing of her routine. All excess feelings would surely go away. The dreams would stop. 

Yet, a week later, it was your face she saw through vertically moving weights, walking through the gym’s hallways that made Abby nearly drop the weights she had raised over her head. 

A blonde girl was walking with you. You seemed disinterested. 

Her name was Carol and she was another classical guitar major. She was the best in your music theory class and you clung to her when you realized not only was she a talented sight reader but she had the most lifeless and dull nature of anyone you had ever met. She was the exact friend you had hoped to meet.

She had also offered to show you around the gym when you asked. Admittedly, you didn’t need someone to tour guide you through the gym. You just didn’t want to go alone. 

Carol talked at you in great detail about the gym’s hours, what kinds of people one might find in certain areas, and how she tried pickleball once but couldn’t stand the instructor’s “overly-excited” approach to teaching.

You zoned out, clutched onto the straps of your backpack, and looked around at the gym. There were so many levels. A big hole in the wall right by the entrance that showcased the basketball courts, two yoga studios hidden around a corner on the second floor, the track that outlined the upper level, and, of course, the massive weightlifting section next to it. You tried to look away from it when Carol walked you past it just in case.

When she had taken you through most of it all, you stopped at the sight of double doors with small windows you could barely see through. 

“Is that the pool?” You asked, but you were already walking away by the time Carol could answer. 

You gazed eagerly at the swimmers who glided across the lap lanes with ease. There were sounds of whistles and people yelling out times. 

“Can anyone swim here or is it just for the swim team?” You asked and no one answered. 

You looked briefly behind you. Carol was gone. But, truthfully you didn’t care enough to go after her and continued staring at the splashes and glistening bodies in swimsuits, caps bobbing in and out of the water. The smell of the chlorine was so nostalgic. You let yourself breathe in and out, taking it all in, closing your eyes.

“It's just for the swim team, usually,” a voice said right behind you.

You jumped and turned to see who was inches away from you, closing you into the door behind you.

You exhaled. “Abby.”

“You swim?” She ignored your shock.

“Not, like, for exercise.”

“Hm,” Abby responded. “So, what are you doing here then?”

“Getting the tour I requested.”

“Yeah. From Carol, who’s never actually been here before.”

You momentarily look around for Carol but assume she must have left. You wonder how Abby even knew she was with you.

“Hey, she took a very riveting pickleball class here and has much to say about it,” you said. 

Abby smirked and moved from her close proximity to the space next to you. You both stayed there for a moment, just watching.

“She seems like a lot of fun.”

“She is,” you said a bit indignantly.

“I bet,” Abby said. “I had her in my Intro to College course last year. She’s very… organized?”

You sighed, eyes still fixed on the swim team. “Yeah, she’s kind of awful.” 

Abby couldn’t contain a laugh and you laughed with her. Out of all your conversations where she seemed to get on every one of your nerves, you were always kind to her. You turned away from the doors and Abby followed alongside as you walked together. 

“So,” Abby said, “why are you friends with her then?”

“She’s very smart. She’s nice enough.”

“Your standards for friendship are pretty low. No offense.” Abby swallowed at the thought of you taking offense. Of her taking it too far again. But this time you conceded.

“You could say that. I guess I like laying low.”

“Yeah, I see that. I can’t figure out why though.” You looked up at Abby to see if she’s fucking with you again but she looked genuine. It softened you. “I think you’re cool.”

“Thanks,” you said, looking from her to the floor again. “I just…I’ve had my fill of shitty friends before. I figure Carol is the boring kind of shitty and not the ‘ruin your life’ kind of shitty.”

“Christ,” Abby said. “I get that though.”

You looked at her to call bullshit. 

“No, really,” she continued. “If I had a dime for every time I’ve realized someone I considered a best friend was actually totally fucking awful, I’d have, like…”  

“Too many dimes?”

You smile. Abby smiled at having made you smile. 

“Too many fucking dimes,” Abby agreed and lingered on you, this laugh of yours in particular said, that’s so stupid, but you smiled anyway. She looked away and nervously stroked her neck. “Hey, listen, I’m sorry about what I said before. I see you lug, like, four guitars between classes everyday, so I had no right to say what I did, about me not taking you for a weightlifter. That was stupid.”

Abby’s breath got caught in her words. There was something about her that always made you sympathetic and made the corners of your mouth perk up. She went on.

“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. Which… that’s my fault. If you ever want to hang out, though, outside of the dorm-” 

But your eyes tore from her and were suddenly down the hall, staring at a gaggle of girls talking to one of the front desk student workers. Your face went sullen and your body stunned. Abby tried to follow your gaze.

You went into a panic and your eyes darted around until they landed on Abby again. 

“I have to go,” you suddenly said. You swung around to Abby, seemingly hiding your face from them.

“Oh- sorry, did I-”

“But thanks for saying that. Yeah, we should,” you said, and Abby could sense your urgency to leave. “Do you wanna go to a party with me?”

Abby couldn’t hide her surprise. And pleasure. “Yes. Yeah,” she coughed. “Sure.”

“It’s a Valentine's Day party. I know it’s early in the month for that, but, yeah, Carol invited me and it seems like it might be fun, I sort of want to go but I don’t really want to go with…”

“Oh, yeah, no, fuck Carol. I’m down.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes opened brightly, at her and then anxiously to the doors behind you. “Okay, that’s great, amazing. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, see you.” 

And you were out the door. Abby noticed your head slightly turn away from the girls at the front desk. 

Abby’s eyes were wide. She let out a big breath and smiled to herself as she walked back to the weights. Yet, Abby found herself counting past her normal ten reps, so consumed by her thoughts that she couldn’t feel her muscles burning. Perhaps it was the moment you invited her to the party that Abby’s grand idea to repress her feelings had gone out the window. Maybe it was when you confided in her, in what small way it was, or the way you laughed at her being a smart ass that made her abandon the boundary she set for herself. Or, possibly, in the moments she spent watching you watch the swim team, Abby realized something she quietly knew since the day she met you: she couldn’t exercise or fuck her way out of this. 

Even if it all was to just be your friend, which she was slowly accepting it would be, it would be worth it to die on that hill. She would let herself die on that hill. Even if it broke her heart and you never were any the wiser. What else could she do? Abby had been a lost cause from the start. 

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

In a glance, Abby’s memories stop short. She feels the same sense of hopefulness she did in her memory so she chooses not to reminisce further. Not when things feel so simple and good again.

It was hard enough for Abby to look you in the eyes. Every time she did, she felt like she was reading a book and your pages were turning so fast it made her dizzy. It’s how she feels as you ask again:

“You coming?” 

You’re half turned to face Abby on the pool’s edge with a hand outstretched to her and anticipation in your eyes. 

She comes in colors everywhere, she combs her hair, she's like a rainbow...

As if at peace with the restlessness you gave her, she looks over to you sweetly, cracking a girlish smile and releasing her hair from its braid.

“I’m not waiting for you!” You sing out. “Three! Two!”

Abby runs and cannonballs into the pool. 

A second later, Abby feels you explode into the water next to her and opens her eyes. The chlorine stings but she sees you clearly. The deep blue glow surrounds your body as you cascade through the water. Your eyes are squeezed shut drawing little lines of sunshine on the sides of your face, bubbles of air fluttering around you, escaping to the surface. 

Abby follows you up until you both find air. Two heads bobbing up and down. The noise of splashing calms. It’s just you and her. Both bodies are tensely aware of that fact. 

You hide the bottom half of your face in the water, looking away from Abby nervously. You can sense her eyes on you. It makes you freeze. The familiar heat runs up your neck. 

“Stop it.”

She shrugs, indecipherably.

“Okay,” she says.

But Abby doesn’t change a thing.

It all festers on your face. 

You take a breath and plunge down until water surrounds you completely, until you’ve held your breath so long that your heart beats louder than your thoughts, slowly and finally drowning them out.

Comment if you want to be on this story's taglist!

Tag babies: @soupycloud @femme-historian @ichokedonmyoreo @paleidiot @r3starttt @lez-zuha @seraphicsentences @vancexplicit @iamaboringrattat @iprefermountainsoverthesea @maybeidohaveadhd @fortune777 @umfiodeprata @x-ani @emothurman @colbyweirdo @backstrom69 @kisssssessssssyj @aylabv02108 @vic-likes-flowers @giuliaexe66 @sapphicontherun @nellkaida @i-feel-violated @grey-jedi12 @stickynachomaker @letmesleep8 @ravyaryn @punkwrld

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

[the-californicationist]

Hey🐻❤ Can i say something ? Yeah ? Sooo

Price and Reader have sex in an abandoned parking lot after going to a bar🍻

That's all I had to say 🙇‍♀️❤

omg hot!!! hope this is kinda what you were looking for. im so sorry for the wait. thank you for being patient with me!

The After Party

The MacTavish wedding was the party of the century, and you were feeling the effects of their pricey Brut champagne. Your husband, John, had stolen a bottle for you, and you were nearly half-done with it, carefully pulling it up to your lips and letting the tiny bubbles pop on your tongue. 

Even though it was almost dawn, the party was still raging inside the bar Johnny had rented out. John had taken you aside and whispered into your ear,

“C’mon. Have a smoke with me, missus.”

While the newlyweds were distracted by their guests, so you and the captain had made a break for it, sneaking out of the reception undetected. You smiled, following him out back into the parking lot, admiring his ass in those silky black slacks. He always looked so fit when he got dressed up, even if he hated every minute of it.

John headed to his truck, popping open the door and digging around for another cigar. You leaned against the tailgate, trying to find some relief for your aching feet. John noticed your discomfort,

“Those heels botherin’ you, love?”

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“Here,” he helped you up onto his tailgate, sitting you on the cold metal, “Let’s sit for a while. Give me a chance to enjoy this.” He wiggled the fat cigar in his hands, smiling at you. 

“Aren’t they gonna miss us?” You nodded to the bar, listening to the sound of muffled dance music coming from its bright, glowing windows. 

“Ah, I’m sure the happy couple is plenty distracted.”

John hopped up on the tailgate with you, puffing on his cigar, making sure the tip was evenly lit. When he was happy with it, he offered it to you. You took it, sucking the smoke into your mouth and tasting its sweet tobacco and vanilla notes. It was a huge cigar, so too much of it and you’d really be wasted. The champagne was already enough to make your cheeks hot. 

You closed your eyes, trying to sober up a bit. John’s hand rubbed your bare back, fiddling with the straps of your low-cut dress as he fussed over you. 

“Is my girl a little bevied up tonight? Maybe I should take that bottle back,” he laughed at you, teasing you good-naturedly. 

“No,” you clutched the bottle like a prize, playing with him, “Pry it out of my cold, dead hands, mister.”

He held his hands up in mock-surrender, 

“Alright, alright. Just don’t blame me when you get into trouble.”

“What trouble?” You took his cigar from him again and purposefully took a long drag, challenging him, trying to goad him into flirting with you. 

He fell into your trap, chuckling as he took one of his fingers and traced his way from your sparkling gold necklace all the way down into the cleavage of your dress, making you gasp, 

“You know what trouble,” he leaned in for a smoky kiss, stealing his stick back, “My woman, dressed like that, gettin’ sloshed on champagne… I know where this path leads.”

“Oh?” You giggled, running your palm across his heavy thigh, feeling his muscles through the expensive cloth, “Where’s that?”

“I’ll show you.” He raised his eyebrows, getting a little smart with you, and hopped off of the tailgate. He stood in front of you, cigar bitten in his mouth, and used both of his hands to pull you closer to him, forcing your legs apart to accommodate his wide body. 

You giggled, letting yourself be man-handled, enjoying every moment of it. 

Then, he reached both of his warm hands up under the glittering hem of your dress, tracing up your legs, feeling their shaved smoothness, until he found your hips. John smiled, balancing the cigar expertly on his lips, enjoying the surprised look on your face. His fingers twirled around the straps of your thong, and he pulled it off of you, guiding it over your knees and past your strappy heels, admiring the gold lace that filled his palm. 

He brought the panties to his nose and dodged your half-hearted kick as you admonished him, 

“John!” 

“What?” He was incredulous, “I know this smell.”

He had the audacity to sniff them again, and you smacked him on his chest, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him react. John smiled, recoiling, teasing you, 

“Smells like sloshed, horny wife, so it does. Mmm.”

“Oh, my God! What if someone saw you?” You hissed, laughing in pure shock at your husband’s actions. 

“And?” He put on a serious face for you then, pocketing your panties, spreading your legs, and tucking his body between them again, getting right up in your face and taking a long pull from his cigar, letting the smoke linger between you, cascading down his full lip. He snarled, “Who’s gonna stop me? Did you see any bloke in there bigger than me? Stronger, hm?”

You shook your head, feeling your heart race with excitement at his sudden dominance. Even if you knew he was just trying to get you riled up, it was working. 

“Did you see anyone who would have the bollocks to stop me from touching my woman…” His hands were wandering, rubbing your smooth thigh up and down, pulling on the tight muscle of your calf, “Whenever, or wherever I want?”

You shook your head again, biting your lip, leaning back into the bed of the truck, letting your breasts lift towards his face, taunting him with your skin. 

He took one of your shoulder straps and pulled it down, letting it dangle across your arm. As it did, the top of its delicate fabric triangle folded, lower and lower, until the top of your breast was exposed, falling almost as low as your nipple. 

His eyes narrowed, giving you a hard stare,

“Give me your hand, missus.”

You held out your hand, palm up, submitting to his whim. 

He took it in his and pulled you forward, lowering your arm until your fingers felt the rigid marble cock he was concealing behind his zipper. John pressed your palm on him, flexing his muscle for you, letting you feel his desire.

You were leaning so far over that his face was right by your ear, and he whispered to you, menacingly, 

“If I wanted to, I’d have taken you in that bar, and there’s not a fuckin’ man alive who could stop me.”

“So,” you said, staring him down, showing him your fearless hunger, “Take me, then.”

It was his turn to wear a mask of surprise on his face, but it quickly turned to joy. He hopped up into the truck bed with you and pulled you inside, lifting the tailgate closed with a loud slam. 

John kept a thick blanket in the truck bed for emergencies, and he folded it up, laying you down on it, making sure you were comfortable. He kissed your neck, but he wasted no time in peeling down the top of your dress, exposing your nipples to the night air. You took the cigar from him so he could suckle on your flesh, leaving little hickies where he wanted to, something for you to admire later. 

You smoked his cigar, letting it get you high as your husband fondled you. His mouth was hot and greedy, and you realized John was a little more worked up than you had previously assumed. You could feel him thrusting against you absentmindedly, not realizing he was doing it, rubbing himself against your beaded gown.

You caught his furry jaw in your hands, pulling him away from his delicious work, dragging him up to kiss your mouth. You shared his smoke between you, letting it fill your senses. You’d take a drag in, share it with him, letting it fall into his lips, and then kiss him through it, tasting each other among the warm notes. 

“John,” you whispered between his wet kisses, “I need you.”

“Need to work up to it, love. Don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispered, rucking up your dress. 

You smiled, knowing he would realize the truth in just a moment. Indeed, as soon as you felt his fingertips dip into your pussy, his eyes shot up in shock and wonder. He breathed in a gasp, dipping his finger into you again, not believing what he was feeling, 

“You are so wet for me. Naughty girl. So ready for your man’s cock, hm?”

“I told you,” you kissed him, feeling his finger sink deeper inside of you, drowning in you, “I’m ready for you, John. Don’t make me wait.”

He brought his hand to his mouth and sucked you off of his skin. Then, he went back for seconds, dipping his forefinger into you like you were the batter of a cake, sugary sweet and forbidden. 

Then, once he had his fill of your taste, he fumbled with his slacks, raking his black leather belt off in one long pull, letting it clatter somewhere in the metal bed of the truck. His fingers pried open his button and yanked down his zipper, freeing his fat rod and jerking it with his hand. 

Unceremoniously, and in a bit of a rush, he mounted you, rucking up your dress even further. You spread yourself for him, wrapping your legs around his strong glutes, feeling them squeeze together to help him thrust into your hungry core. 

It was a tight fit, as usual. John was always so heavy and thick; you had a hard time working up to his size. But, you took a deep breath and let your wetness glide him in. His ragged sigh of relief was intoxicating. 

“Oh, bloody hell, missus.” He furrowed his brow as if in pain.

“You alright, John?” You tried to relax, but you could feel your body responding without you, pulsing around him with a warm, eagerness. 

“You’re warm, baby. Just what I needed. So fuckin’ good to me.”

He ducked his head into the crook of your neck and began to thrust into you, deeper and deeper until he found his end. In the back of your mind, as you gazed up at the sparkling stars, you hoped no one could hear you, but your husband’s earlier dominance made you care a little less. And as he built you up to a frothing orgasm, you found yourself caring not at all. 

Suddenly, the music from the bar got louder, and you heard the door slam closed to the bar. John stilled above you, covering you with his body, watching over his shoulder for someone to come by. Your heart was beating hard in your chest, and you gave his cock a squeeze from inside of you, pulling at his shaft with your muscle. He looked down at you, smiling, and gave you a quick pulse in return, teasing you. Both of you were clearly excited about the prospect of being caught. 

Footsteps made their way through the gravel lot, the loud jingle of keys, a door opening and slamming shut. Then, their engine revved and they pulled away, leaving you alone again. 

“Filthy little thing,” John whispered, picking up his pace again, “Squeezin’ me like that. You tryin’ to get caught, missus?”

“Just wanna make you feel good, John. Want to feel you come in me.”

“Christ,” he lamented, clenching his teeth and fucking you faster, obviously heated by your words and your wet, sticky desire, “Squeeze me again, then. Yeah… ungh… just like that. Keep doin’ that, pretty girl. You’ll get your wish.”

When he thrust into you, you tried to relax, letting his cock slip inside. Then, when he tried to leave, you twisted your muscles against him, pulling him in, trying to milk his come from his swollen head. It was driving him wild. His eyes fluttered, rolling back into his head as he thrust into you, harder and harder, chasing down your orgasm with a vengeance. 

He put his fingers in your mouth, making you taste yourself, growling at you through clenched teeth, 

“Suck.”

You grabbed his hand with both of yours, feeling your tits bouncing as he fucked you, holding his fingers in your mouth, and you began to suckle on them dutifully. You could smell and taste your scent, and it was making you feral. You let your tongue loll between his fingers, sucking hard on his sensitive tips, watching his face as his jaw fell slack. 

Then, he pulled them away from you and used them to rub against your clit, one finger on either side, making tight circles and teasing you until your legs began to shake. 

“Holy fuck,” he said, watching you fall apart, “Such a good girl for me, aren’t ya? Gonna come on me, baby?”

You nodded, plucking at your nipples, squeezing your breasts as they shook from his thrusting. 

“Good girl. Come on me. Let me feel it.”

You felt your body go rigid as the bright, flashing pleasure coiled its way into your belly, and you couldn’t help but let out a deep moan. Quick as a flash, John kissed you, letting you moan into his mouth instead of into the night air, quieting you as you exploded underneath him, shamelessly bucking against his hard length as you rode out your pleasure. 

He kept kissing you, sucking at your tongue and bottom lip, talking to you through your bliss, 

“That’s it. Just what I needed, pretty girl. Love this fuckin’ pussy.”

“I love you, John,” you said, suddenly overwhelmed with your emotions and the deep sensations he was giving you. 

It caught him off-guard, and he smiled from it, 

“I love you too, baby. You ready for me, hm?”

You nodded, whispering a yes into his neck. He looked at you with a pleading expression, 

“Tell me.”

“I need your come, John. Come in me. Fill me up, please. I want you to come in my pussy.  I want it running down my legs.”

“Oh, fuck!” He raised his voice just for a moment, but you didn’t care.

As you watched him tumble into his orgasm, shuddering between your legs, nothing would distract you from that gorgeous scene. His face twisted and then relaxed, exhausted from his efforts, a half-smile painted on his lips.

He looked down at you in surprise, breathing heavy and recovering. He slid himself out of you, leaving you with a terrible emptiness. You felt his cream drip from your body, and he wiped his cock on your thigh before he tucked himself back into his dress pants. 

John collapsed next to you in the truck bed, staring up at the stars for the first time, resting his head on your breast. 

You were wrecked, and you pet his hair, softly soothing yourself with him. 

He looked up at you, that playfulness returning to his eyes, 

“Runnin’ down your legs, hm?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes, 

“Yeah, so? You seemed to like the idea, mister.”

“I do,” he kissed your breast and took your nipple into his mouth, watching you squirm from being overstimulated, “In fact, I think it’s a good idea.”

“You’re not serious,” you gasped. 

“C’mon. No one’ll notice.”

He sat up, checked the surroundings to make sure the coast was clear and then helped you up. He lowered the tailgate and helped you stand. Your feet still ached in your shoes, and you had to catch yourself on his strong arm. He steadied you, making sure you were alright before he grabbed your hand and led you back inside. 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this, John,” you felt your cheeks blush bright red. 

“Be brave, missus. I’ll make it worth your while later.”

His face suggested more of his dirty fun, and you nodded, crossing your fingers no one looked at you too closely. 

Luckily, no one had noticed your absence. John helped you into a booth and ordered two more glasses of champagne, sliding into the seat beside you. All night, through the slit of your gown, he rubbed your leg, getting little drops of his come and playing with it on your skin, working you up and teasing you in front of all of your friends, secretly smearing his gift into your thigh. 

All night, and during the drive home, you couldn’t keep his hands off of your legs. He kept playing with you, getting bolder and bolder by the minute. When you got into the house, he stripped you, leaving your gown abandoned on the kitchen floor, carrying you straight into the den and laying you on the couch, not even bothering to make it to the bedroom.

He had a burning look in his eye as he commanded you, taking off his clothes as he barked his orders, 

“Spread your legs, missus. Let me see you. Wider.”

You did as you were told, your mind reeling from his threatening tone, eager to submit to him again. 

“Mm. You are fuckin’ gorgeous covered in my come. It’s everywhere,” he stared at your pussy and your inner thighs with wonder, using his hands to feel the shining fluids coating your skin. 

Then, to your shock, he bent to lick you clean, sucking on your folds and lapping at your wet hole, wriggling his tongue deeper and deeper, trying to eat himself out of you. 

“John!” You gasped, “What are you — ungh, fuck!”

His fingers fucked you as he ate from you, swallowing what your body gave him, licking up his mess from your legs and lips like a hungry dog, ignoring your cries of protest. 

“You want me to stop, missus?”

You shook your head, petting his scalp and scratching your fingers through it.

“Aye,” he grinned, “Didn’t think so. Hope you’re ready for round two.”

If you enjoyed this story, please consider a reblog! Thank you!!

AO3 Link

[giamee]

𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐖!

╭─────────────────────── ( 🎐 )

even though you don't talk, they'll still find a way to listen

› 〉 📂 .ೃ | mute reader, jus some fluff really, bit on the short side

requested by @/anon

╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ ok i should nawtttt have used this colour scheme im squinting like a rat at my screen tryna see what i'm saying. the title is 'cigarettes out the window' (shoutout tv girl) if u couldnt read it which i do not hold against u

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 GEPARD.

it's simply in his nature to look out for others, to ensure that everyone is alright. and when he meets you, he's thrown for a loop a little. because you are fine.

the first time he sees you is in serval's workshop- you're just leaving, and something compels him to make sure that he speaks to you, even if it's for a few fleeting moments before you leave and he most likely never sees you again.

it's a simple question of how your day is, but you simply offer him a small smile before ducking past him, scurrying out of the door that he held open.

he's puzzled at first- maybe it's something to do with him? did you not want to talk to him? but then his sister explains that you're mute, and now he feels like a fool.

and thus begins his attempts to talk to you.

he writes you little notes to begin with. luckily for him, you're a regular at serval's shop, always seemingly having some device or another broken and in need of repairing. serval rolls her eyes at the pair of you- at gepard for being an idiot (you can still hear, you don't need notes), and at you for your attempts to run into her brother as often as possible (those machines weren't really broken).

despite this, it was somewhat amusing to watch the pair of you attempt to flirt with each other. and somewhat cute when your attempts worked.

you kept each and every one of gepard's notes to you, as redundant as they were. his handwriting was a little scruffy, and if you looked at them hard enough you could spot the little tremors where he tried to make the lettering neat.

a special treat was when he decided to add little doodles to them. it was anyone's guess as to what they were supposed to be- you were pretty sure that one of them was supposed to be you- and your heart warmed amidst the chicken scratch and stick figures.

you decide to write your own note back to him. in the top right corner is a little sketch of him, on a similar level to his own creations, that you hope he'll appreciate alongside the note.

you give it to him along with your best smile, mentally capturing the look of joy on gepard's fave at your little gift to him. you were gone by then, shyness overtaking your urge to stay, so you could only imagined his face when he realised that what you had written to him was a formal request to take him out on a date.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 DAN HENG.

for dan heng to open up to someone new, several criteria have to be met.

for starters, he had to be at least a little bit comfortable around you. receptive, but not too probing or overbearing. rational, but not judgmental. open, but not too much.

in many ways, he was like a cat. you had to let him come to you.

and luckily for you, you seemed to fulfil those criteria.

as one of the newest additions to the astral express, you were in some sort of in-between phase of being one of them and a stranger. you communicated in your own ways, but you found yourself withdrawing to your room. it was overwhelming, this new environment.

it was only natural that you felt more drawn to dan heng more than anyone else. he had similar qualities to you- more introverted, tended to keep to himself. and, as you later found out, you both had a tendency to burn the midnight oil.

it became almost routine to run into him when you're both up late, wandering the astral express for some peace of mind. brief encounters with little nods sent your direction gradually evolved into longer moments spent basking in each other's presence, mostly in silence. but not always.

you both had your reasons to be up late- on the nights where dan heng looked more frazzled, a certain look in his eye, is when you began to piece him together.

he'd lend you some information of his own volition occasionally, telling you about the nightmare he had, recurring or not. there was just this certain quality to you, a look in your eye that made him feel like you truly did listen to him.

and he wouldn't trade your late-night rendevous for the world.

𝜗𝜚 honkai star rail masterlist

[cooki3face]

what kind of seducer are you (18+)

this is me using my mornings to be productive and doing what I said I would do for you guys in the first place lol, these readings take me a long time and a lot of energy even if it doesn’t seem like it so I hope you enjoy these and find them entertaining <33

***

i.

I’m giving immediately everyone wants to see you everyone wants to be around you or people perceive you to be someone well known and well sought after and that within itself is the pinnacle of your allure. Everyone has to have you. You’re a wish fulfillment to many people I’m hearing it girl. I’m also getting debutant vibes like there’s this very timeless beauty that you manifest, or like Bridgerton vibes, you’re the diamond of the season, everybody sees you, everyone wants to look at you, everyone wants to know what you’ll do next.

I’m hearing people also see you as someone who can protect and love very well and it makes them feel very greedy about you. Your energy is enlightened, you heal, you love. And when you have energy like that people can be very attracted to it and desire to have it all for themselves. To overconsume. Like I hear people saying that your energy, the type of person you are is very scarce and they’d like to have a taste, they’d like to have you for themselves.

I’m also getting people may think you’re very good in bed or they fantasize about you and what you can do I’m hearing you’re very beautiful. You’re a perfect embodiment of what desire and love is. You could be a virgin or be very protective over your sexual energy and who you give yourself over to and that curiosity and desire to dive into you is what really attracts some people to you. You make people very thirsty. You’re a reservoir of water in the desert.

Im hearing you’re the one thing people make sure to ask their God for. You may bring people a lot of peace and solace and people see you to be a nurturing person or someone they want to rest with or be around in their time of hardship in need. Like when we had nightmares as a child and we went to lie with someone we knew would keep us safe or would support us or listen to us even if what we were afraid of felt silly or unreal.

People sense that your accolades are within. Like you don’t have to prove yourself or display your talents or achievements publicly or through things that are physical and tangible because people know and you know that you are a good person and have many talents and wonderful attributes and abilities. People also believe that you’re very wise and smart as well. And I’m hearing that you may even take the sexual charge out of people not in a bad way because you’re very desired but you take out the ache and the craving of being sexually driven to fill a void because people see you as fulfilling enough or a lot already without having to sleep with you or use your body for healing.

You make people feel as though they can have all the things they fear they cannot or don’t deserve.

***

ii.

There’s something about your emotional receptivity or your emotional energy that brings people to you. You could be a masculine energy or a man because I got the king of cups. People feel that you care very deeply about a great deal of things even to the point of it troubling you. They feel you have a lot of heart and that you would be ideal for marriage or long-term commitment because they know you’d love them with everything you’ve got and for a long time.

People may feel as though you can heal them or open up their hearts to be saved because you understand them or you may relate to their sorrows and worries. I hear “They’re filled to the brim with love.” You may attract people who’ve come from broken homes or come from places where they weren’t very loved or valued and people feel as though you can shower them in love and affection and fill a hole in their heart. People may leech off of you at times or drain your energy because they see the things they did not receive at crucial moments in their life in excess in you.

I’m hearing people saying that your love is like love. Your s*x, your affection, and your touch is what love is supposed to feel like. You may be very gentle but rough at the same time, very strong, and give off very protective and patient energy. I'm hearing that people fall for you very fast and very hard. You're almost addictive and it takes them long bouts of time to feel their really free of the effect you have on them. People feel you even in your absence when you're not around to have and to hold. You're a lot to miss. You're a lot to love and be loved by. There's so much excess.

You could give off very paternal energy. The girls with daddy issues love you, the boys with daddy issues find themselves wanting to crawl into your lap too. You could be very dominant as well. Stubborn, strong-willed, and unwavering. People find very high expectations for what it means and what it feels like to be loved by you. I’m hearing “I wouldn’t wanna be any place else.” People want to stay with you. You could be very prone to be caught in long-term relationships even if you don’t intend to stay for very long because people hold onto you so tightly.

You almost make people want to be willing to share cause they know other people want your time and attention and love to and they’re not ready to ever let you go on to someone else. The people are also saying that you’re very action-oriented and very driven and that makes them want to follow you wherever you go.

***

iii.

People could see you as very relaxed as well as very intellectually aware. They see you as very level-headed and smart. You’re someone people see as destined for success or someone who can’t help but be on top or come into a lot of good fortune within their lives because you’re just naturally very strong-minded and steady.

People may also see you as someone who isn’t afraid to take risks and is very brave in life. They see you as someone who is consciously aware of their inner calling in life and is intentional about the things they do and know exactly where they are going and that level of stability and knowing attracts people to you. It’s as if they’re saying if this person is stable and knows what they want out of life surely I can learn something and even if I don’t this is the person I want to spend time with.

Im hearing please don’t stop the music by Rihanna as well. People see you as a fun time or a night they never want to end when they spend time with you. People may also think you’re very good to sleep with as well like after a night with you their world is rocked and they want to stay right where they are. People see themselves enveloped by a little bubble while there with you. Nothing else matters. Nothing else is important. This energy really reminds me of Bed Peace by Jhene Aiko and Childish Gambino.

People feel as though you have a thirst for life, like you’re challenging the status quo, like if the world were to shift or change or if everyone woke up one morning and decided they were gonna do what they wanted to do, not go to work, not go to school, eat whatever they wanted, kiss the person they loved or be in any way spontaneous it would be because of you. I’m hearing “you’re a firecracker.”

People are attracted to you, seduced by you, because of the freedom you offer them. You radiate self-love and expression and they desire to be in that energy themselves. You’re like art. Like the countryside or loud jazz music that’s being overheard from the window on a long summer night.

***

these messages were really sweet, made me love you. Okay, good morning, good night, or good evening lol, I love you and I hope this was what you needed. Be sure to book a personal reading with me by going to my Instagram and clicking the link in my bio if you wish to have a reading with me personally. ❤️

[sh0tanzz]

EUNSEOKS IDEAL TYPE based on astrology~

reminder this is based off of my opinions from observing his chart and my own knowledge and is not exact fact unless I knew him myself and im not a professional astrologer

Appearance: He likes someone on the more slightly edgier, sexy aesthetics. A bold “heartthrob” type of look or aura. Someone who isnt overly conservative in how they dress and isn’t afraid of showing a little skin. Someone with nice legs or is even on the taller side (still shorter than him ofc). Someone drop dead gorgeous and KNOWS IT and it shows in how they carry themselves and their posture but isn’t a “show off”. Someone who doesn’t look “fragile” . Wears deeper and bolder colors rather than something overly soft or light. Similar to Sungchan he’d want a person that almost everyoneee wants due to their visuals. He may be into people who are comfortable in active wear or even streetwear (breathable clothes similar to him essentially). Bedroom eyes.

Personality: Someone who can be very flirty and playful with him..a “hard to get” kind of vibe. Someone funny and has good wordplay and can take jokes. More open minded and not too scared to indulge in things outside their comfort zone. On the more popular and well known side, everyone thinks good of them and everyone is their friend. Someone not sensitive but has a sense of emotional intelligence. Once again someone who’s more confident in themselves and has a healthy ego. A person who has their own life and doesn’t revolve their world around him 😭 like genuinely has an active world with hobbies, friends and activities outside of him. Independent “doesn’t need anyone” vibes. Has good receptive qualities like listening to him when he needs it and uses logic to solve problems. Isn’t too possessive/jealous. Ngl he might like girls that are a TAD bit mean but charming 😭.

Morals/Values: Someone who values their independence and thinks it’s important to know how to take care of themselves. Someone who values logic/instinct rather than acting off of emotions alone. A person that understands maintaining their self esteem is very important. Can balance their responsibilities and their wild side.

Extras: Honestly his chart reminds me of the saying “I want a grown woman not a little girl” 😭. He probably enjoys someone who doesn’t give in too easily or isn’t overly submissive. He also might be into more extrovert/ambivert types of people.

[sxfterhearts]

keeho dating a shy bookworm headcannons, i feel like hed be so sweet <33

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ highschool!au - theatre kid!keeho x student librarian!reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: fluff fluff fluff (i miss writing soft fluff and just writing in general omfg)

♡ word count: 1,171 words

♡ author's note: im crying anon thank you so so much for sending this!! it's my first ever p1h request and it made me so happy :") i'm sorry it took so long (life has been crazy lately) but i really hope this meets your expectations <33333

//

omg this is kinda giving our beloved summer (if you havent watched it, its my fav kdrama ever!!)

ok this might be cliche but i <3 highschool!au so let's roll with it

yoon keeho as a theatre kid (are we surprised) who practices his lines everywhere around school, has friends in every single class and is always being his friendly, extroverted self

y/n as a diligent, reserved student who is also a student librarian - you're usually stacking shelves or scanning books at the library after school on most days

your relationship blossomed through shy glances and soft whispers - keeho used to take note of the days you were on duty and purposely stayed behind to get closer to you

you were in the same english class - and being a theatre nerd, he was quickly intrigued by your ability to not only analyse shakespeare to a tee but also recite the plays word for word, line by line, without missing a single beat

keeho felt his heart speed up whenever he saw you in class, losing yourself in your work. in his eyes, you were always beautiful, but with the sunlight shining through the windows, illuminating your concentrated expression as you muttered to yourself and scribbled in your notebook - he thought that was when you shone the brightest

in the early days of getting to know each other, keeho would disrupt your peaceful reading sessions behind the library reception desk with endless requests of book recommendations earning many shushes from the head librarian

"i really like romance novels... what's your favourite?" hah, very smooth, keeho

you were confused, at first, because why was yoon keeho of all people taking an interest in you?

but then as you got to know him better you realised you shared more in common than you thought. despite your seemingly opposite personality types, the two of you had similar tastes in books, and music, and food, the list goes on

"hey y/n, have you tried the new bakery across the road? they're doing an opening deal - iced americano and a croffle for really cheap. should we try it together tomorrow for breakfast? only if you want to, of course..."

"y/n, have you listened to the new sza album? what's your favourite track? i love all of them, it's so hard to pick..."

"y/n, y/n, do you remember the author i was telling you about last month? they're writing a new book in the series! we should read it together when it's out, i wanna hear your honest review!"

even as a child, you were quiet and mostly preferred to read a book or draw and colour quietly while others played outside. this was both a result of your personality and also a few friendship fallouts that made you more wary (kids can be so mean...)

fast forward to high school, you retreated further into your shell, only keeping a handful of close friends. you preferred to bury your nose in your books and lose yourself in the fictional world of your favourite characters

that is, until keeho came along

the boy was as warm and bright as a summer's day. he had a way about him that just made people feel at ease. perhaps it was because he was so comfortable with being himself, that it helped others open up too

you were no exception. initially you were unsure of what to make of his unexpected friendliness and kindness, but you quickly realised that he was just a genuinely nice person who wanted to get to know you better

and you had to admit - after one too many mornings sitting on the bench overlooking your school field together, munching on your breakfasts and sharing an earbud each, listening to the summer's latest tunes under the gentle morning sun - you wanted to know more about him too

you could feel your cold walls getting dissolved by the warm, toothy smiles he always wore around you, and his melodious laughter

a few weeks into your daily ritual (consisting of breakfast in the morning and doing homework or stacking shelves in the library after school together), keeho finally made the first move

one morning, the two of you were nearly done your with your breakfast croffles when all of a sudden, the cloudy sky turned ominous and lightning flashed before your eyes

before either of you could react, the skies opened up, unleashing heavy raindrops all around you

"quick, y/n!" keeho grabbed your hand and interlaced your fingers with his. the two of you ran to the nearest school building, trudging past wet grass and muddy soil, staining your white school shoes

when you finally made it under the awnings, you both looked down at the state of your uniforms - mildly soaked, and burst out laughing at how ridiculous you looked

naturally, your gaze wandered towards your joined hands, and you slowly looked up, only to find keeho staring at you as if you were the only person in the world

you couldn't read his expression - there was a hidden intensity behind his eyes

he hastily unbuttoned and shrugged off his button-down shirt, leaving him in his white t-shirt, and promptly placed it around your shoulders to keep you warm

"keeho, you'll get cold, i - "

but he cut you off, "i can't help myself anymore, y/n..." it's now or never, he thought to himself

"huh? what do you mean, keeho? i don't - "

"i like you, y/n." he whispered softly, so soft that it nearly blended in with the sound of rain. he stuffed his hands deep into his pockets to stop himself from fidgeting

"what?" you thought you misheard, cos there's no way...

"y/n, i... i like you!" keeho closed his eyes and repeated again, already blushing red, embarrassed

you had an inkling that he was interested in you, but you never allowed yourself to daydream for too long whenever keeho entered your thoughts, for fear that you would only disappoint yourself. but now that you knew his true feelings...

you inched forwards and stood on the balls of your feet. why is he so tall, you thought to yourself as you bravely planted a brief peck against his warm cheeks

keeho's eyes shot open in surprise. it was so quick, his brain failed to process it. "wait, did you just - "

you giggled, eyes crinkling up into the little crescents he adored, and held onto his wrists before leaning in once more

the first meeting of your rain-stained lips was clumsy, as most first kisses are, but the two of you made it up with an eagerness that mirrored your initial desires to learn more about each other

when you both ran out of air, you laughed against each other's lips, basking in the tenderness of a new relationship, blossoming like a flower bud after a bit of sunshine and rain

"so... will you be the juliet to my romeo?"

"they both die, keeho!"

"oh, true... but it's romantic, right?"

[from-vuka]

So... this is a drabble (do ppl still use that word?) for a future idea i have of Ghoap x reader.... lol (i think reader is gender neutral but i could be wrong ;;) not all of it is planned out so there may be gaps but imma rewrite into a whole piece maybe????

Listen idk im still getting used to putting myself out there LMAO

cw: implied cheating towards the end, neglectful relationship (not simon), married! reader, "the one that got away" mentality (idk if this is a cw but i put here)

‧₊*: ⋅ଳ⋅˚₊‧𖦹₊⊹⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

When they parked, the first question was where to go.

The mission has been a bust. Intel was incorrect or outright wrong, gaps missing in reports that they knew would be a problem later--and they were always right. When shit hit the fan, they knew exactly what to do: collect their people and dip before Laswell had anything to say about shooting at Russian military.

The little SUV they stole was hot, the AC blasting but doing little to quelch the need for water or how sweaty they had gotten running despite the possibility of snow. Price had long since left the car, pacing back and forth as he tried to call Kate. Gaz tinkered on the laptop, seeing if any of the files they were able to download or code ripped from its program could indicate a next step, a lead in the right direction.

Soap and Ghost sat in the trunk; its overhead door open to let in the late autumn breeze.

“Fuck, another night on the fuckin’ ground,” Soap moaned, leaning back against the inner side of the SUV. “Gonna be a rough fu--”

“I know a place,” Simon said quickly, almost too quick. His thumbs, looking too big for the little cracked screen of the iPhone 8 the military gave him (since he refused a smartphone for as long as possible) hit the virtual keyboard. He sent two messages before the machine was buzzing and flashing. He got up, rolled his shoulders, and answered.

Johnny whistled, pulling Gaz from the blue light of his laptop to Simon. His feet paced like John’s but quicker; too much energy for such a short call. His eyes didn’t seem so harsh as he explained the situation, describing his irritation at the whole thing. When he hung up, his body relaxed only a fraction before turning to the car.

“Got us a place to lay low,” He murmured. “Don’t see us getting a hotel from Laswell,” He commented as John cursed and gripped his phone, containing the growing rage for another short while. “Reception out here isn’t gonna happen ‘til the clouds fuck off.”

“The fuck you mean you know a place?” Soap asked, and Simon tugged his arm to pull him out of the trunk.

He closed the trunk door and shoved Soap into the back seat, he himself taking the driver’s seat. John didn’t question their new set-up, sitting in the passenger’s side and pointing the vents at his sweaty skin.

“We’re stayin’ with a friend. Lives remote, no neighbors, little to no internet,” Ghost hummed, pulling off the side of the road and heading to where his GPS blinked in retaliation for the lack of connection.

The team didn’t ask any more questions, too tired from the run to get this shitty little SUV, and instead reflected on the mission and their faults, as if they could have done anything to change the outcome. Bad intel is bad intel—there isn’t a way to fix it or better training to prepare for it. Still, the loss burned their skin like fire ant bites.

At a certain point, the phone stopped giving directions. Gaz questioned it, and Simon’s response made sense: when you live as remote as his friend did, GPS could only take you so far. The rest was muscle memory.

Soap asked him how often he came here. Simon said every time he had to leave the base, get away from the shitty flat he rents only for when he’s off deployments. Most of his possessions, he said, live here. There wasn’t anyone he trusted more than this person.

As they pulled down a dirt road, the first they saw was you.

You stood outside the two-floor cabin, standing on a wrap-around porch, your hands on your hips as you watched the shitty, sad SUV park on the dirt driveway. Simon was the first to pop out despite being the driver, taking big steps up to you and the front door. His body was tense only for a moment before you hugged him hello, silent otherwise, and let him trail mud, dirt, and blood into your home.

The rest watched from the car until you waved them up, turning and heading inside. On edge, they headed into the cabin and found it homey. It wasn’t what they were imagining from previous safe houses: dirty floors with stains and dust; broken or bare furniture, maybe none at all; thick spider webs and old cooking pots.

No, it was homey-homey. The furniture was worn but comfortable, soft blankets and thick pillows over any cushioned surface available. Rugs lined the wooden floors, making pathways for your socked feet. The windows had stained glass art pieces hanging to let the light shine in rainbows, and the few lights that were on at this point in the evening were small table lamps and a candle burning in the renovated and cozy kitchen. They could smell stew cooking on the stovetop and bread baking in the fire oven.

Simon didn’t seem to feel any of the intrusion that they did. His shoes were left by the door, a couple pairs that looked eerily similar lined up on a shoe rack. The coat rack had a mix of grey, Simon-sized hoodies and jackets with fluffy, colorful, graphic jackets that seemed to fit you.

Even as Simon wandered into the kitchen, checking on the stew and bread, he looked like he fit in the small space. He opened the fridge and pulled out a case of ale and a little bottle of wine while you grabbed beer mugs and a few wine glasses. You handed him the bottle openers as he handed you oven mitts for the bread. It was synchronized—Simon had been here enough before to know how you lived and worked.

“Who’s this?” Price asked, breaking the spell between you two. Simon glances at you then at Price.

Simon explained, grinning a little as he did, that you were his best friend of nearly 10 years; that you were the person on his emergency contact and his address when he was deployed. He watched as you started serving the stew and he said that you gave him permission to keep a low profile in your home until Laswell could tell them what to do next. There weren’t any other options available that wouldn’t bring attention to them, unless they wanted to sleep in the woods. Until then, Simon saw no reason to leave this place.

Price wanted to be the one to speak the truth—that Laswell would probably get back to them by morning—but as he watched Simon place full bowls on the kitchen table in the next room over while he mumbled to you about grabbing spoons and butter knives, he couldn’t. Instead, he nodded and led the rest to the table, enjoying the quiet moments of delicious and hot food that were far better than any MRE they had in their backpacks.

The rest of the night was calm. Johhny was eager to ask questions (and John and Kyle ready to listen), but the time never came. After dinner, you showed them where the two bathrooms were and where the guest shower was located. You took them into the basement where several couches and chairs sat around a stove heating the space and a flatscreen with VHS and DVD players. A few retro gaming consoles sat displayed on the TV stand. Pointing out the blankets, comforters, and pillows on one of the couches, you said that the laundry room was in the little space off to the side in case they wanted fresh clothes. Afterwards, you thanked them for keeping the place clean and headed up to the master bedroom.

It didn’t shock any of them when Simon trailed behind you.

Clean, fed, and exhausted, the interrogations began the next morning when you wandered downstairs in one of Simon’s shirts, putting sausage in a cast iron skillet for breakfast. Johnny, now awake and ready to annoy, sat in the kitchen and asked you question after question as you answered honestly.

“Why do you live out here?”

“It’s private.”

“Do you like it here?”

“Yes. Otherwise, I would move.”

“Where do you work?”

“Don’t need to.”

“Why don’t you need to work?”

“I have money.”

“How’d you get it?”

“...Si, usually.”

Johnny smirked like a fox when he thought he caught you, but you just giggle at his obsessive nature and finish up cooking. Simon comes down nearly 30 minutes later, settling beside you in the kitchen as he brews tea and coffee. His hands wandered every now and again to your arms, your side, a hand on your lower back as he moves around the kitchen—which makes Johnny’s eyes boggle. How could Simon be keeping such a sweet thing so hidden? Why is he lying by saying a ‘friend’?

It wasn’t until later, when the morning blurred into afternoon, that they understood why.

When he arrived, Simon’s mood soured while yours grew sweeter, if only for a moment. You kissed the mystery man at the door and told him the situation, to which he didn’t seem to mind. He headed upstairs, practically ignoring your silent requests for tender affection to shower. You sulked a little, trying to put on a brave face as you started on lunch. Simon was there, then, chatting with you more than he did anyone as you prepared subs and fries. They could hear your angelic rings of laughter as he calmed you into your previously happy self.

When the man came back down, he ordered you to grab him a beer, and you did so without a second thought. He demanded you grab the remote, whined when it wasn’t working (“As always,” Simon later grumbled), and took out his frustration on you. He berated your meal with backhanded compliments. He ignored your requests for napkins or salt to finish his food and leave for the shed outside, dirty plate and crumbs left on the table.

You sighed as he left, frowning and watching him disappear into the wooden shed. Then Simon was there again, taking up his seat beside you and set up to finish eating there. His eyes glanced at you, cracking piss-poor dad jokes to get your little voice to chuckle as you finished eating—maybe not as much as Simon thought you should, as he later shoved cut-up plum and cheese squares into your face while the two of you sat on the wrap-around porch and caught up over tea.

John wasn’t sure what to do; Gaz and Soap were even more lost. It was so clear, then it was so confusing. It wasn’t until dinner was over and the team was sitting by a little bonfire, you and your apparent husband off to bed for the night, that they asked Simon.

“Who is that, really?” John asked.

“...I dunno. Thought we were somethin’, then we weren’t. I knew the world wouldn’t wait for me forever. Now... now I have this.”

“You give ‘em money?” Johnny, now, asked.

“Have to. Stupid fucker blows it all at casinos or fucking hides it. He’ll make it a problem if things aren’t paid on time when he’s the jackass ruining the credit score. Don’t know for sure, but I think the fucker might get close to physical when I’m not here. Thinkin’ bought putting cameras around just to make sure.”

“So... what? Is this just how you’ll spend the rest of your life? Don’t think you’ll need to do much convincing, that bastard doesn’t care,” Kyle said, leaning back in his seat.

“He doesn’t. Our jobs are similar, he’s just in construction. Leave for a while, come back for a little bit, and then leave again. The only difference between that bloke and me is that I like being here. But...”

He thinks to you: how happy you were to date the jackass, playing with your hair nervously; how you glowed with something primal and sensual after he showed you “the best night of your life,” even if you’d go back on your words later when the love-bomb spell wore off; how he proposed so sloppily yet you ate it up like candy because no one had ever treated you so sweetly. It didn’t matter that he got so drunk at the wedding he puked on your dress or that Simon swore he saw the moron kissing another girl at a party but couldn’t be the one to ruin you by telling the truth. Your husband was romantic, you said, but all Simon saw were red flags and a growing need to rearrange the fucker’s teeth.

“But I can’t destroy happiness I don’t understand.”

“I don’t think what’s going on is ‘happiness’...” Johnny said, opening another bottle. “More like... I dunno, a lack of respect? Not knowing what happiness really is?” He bit his lip before clicking his tongue in triumph. “No, no, it’s complacency. Nothing bad can happen if nothin’ changes.”

Simon hums, smoking a cigarette and watching the flames of the fire.

Kyle glanced at Price, who cleared his throat for a second. “Simon, I’m not usually one for this kind of thing, but--”

“I know, need to get over it,” Simon snapped, smoking down the cigarette into a nub before throwing it into the firepit.

Price frowned. “I think it might be the opposite.”

“I’m not destroying a family.”

“There isn’t a family, Ghost, just two people who are married and don’t do shit together,” Johnny said. “He doesn’t seem to be in the picture. How often is this place empty? There’re no photos of them on the wall. He didn’t seem happy to see his own partner. They don’t even have kids.”

Simon frowns. “I know. It’s the main complaint... lyin’ ‘bout what he wants.”

“So then... take ‘em,” Johnny said, Kyle rolling his eyes. “It doesn’t seem like anyone’s holding on too tight.”

Simon didn’t speak again that night. He headed upstairs when the rest departed for the basement. The next day, the man was kissing you good-bye as the team came upstairs. You looked sad, miserable even, and followed him outside. The two of you spoke, but he snapped at you before heading to the car, ignoring your whines for a last kiss. He drove off and you came back inside, starting breakfast in silence again.

When Simon came down, he knew. He pushed John, Kyle, and Johnny to the basement so he could hold you and comfort you. You cried hard into his chest, hiccupping and sobbing as you whined about his disregard for your comfort—that he didn’t care enough to kiss you goodbye again when you asked him if this was the last time he’d leave you.

Simon hated it because himself in your lover. He imagined it before: leaving for a deployment and seeing your round teary eyes as he packed. He’d stop, instead picking you up to kiss you and lay you on the bed, proving that he loved you so much more than you knew. Maybe he wouldn’t even be able to leave if you cried like you had in the past.

No, he wouldn’t. He’d see your face and feel the fear you have of losing him. He’d leave his bags in the bedroom to pull you close to the couch, feeling over your skin like he’s been dying to do since he met you in that dirty dive bar when you both were in your early 20s. He’d ignore phone calls from Price or Laswell or any other CO to take you out for dinner and fuck you in the back of his truck like you always giggled about. He’d shower with you when you came home, wash your hair and realize your scent is all around him, not just the quick perfume he gets every time you pass by.

Would he mourn the death of his career? Probably not—not if you were pressed to his side, lips kissing his jaw and chin as he held your legs in his lap. (If he was lucky, maybe even pregnant.) Every metal, award, trophy... it’d dull the moment you stood beside it, the moment his brain conjured up your image in lieu of polished gold. He’d put on his crisp, shiny-adorned uniform one last time for your wedding. You always said the fabric made him look so regal.

It wasn’t a surprise when the next morning you seemed gloomy. You tried to play it off, smiling when talking to someone before retreating back into yourself, and John could tell how much it hurt Simon. He trailed behind you like a kitten, watching from doorways to make sure the waterworks hadn’t started. When they did, he tugged you to the master bedroom and let you curl up into the blankets and sob. Simon rubbed your back, a silent yet strong barrier between you and loneliness.

You asked him what you should do—how could you keep loving a man who won’t treat you like a person? Who won’t see you as anything but a hole to fuck when he comes home before leaving again? He wasn’t soft like Simon, you said, and Simon felt conflicted.

He wasn’t soft. No one else got to see the affection he rarely used, felt his hands doing anything other than breaking and taking. He towered over men far weaker than him. He didn’t feel remorseful for the pain he caused to those who deserved it and maybe even the ones who didn��t. He made himself built for war, yet you cried into his lap and called him a softie.

Maybe he was—but only for you. You were just an exception.

He couldn’t tell if it was the conversation from the previous night or your red cheeks and puffy eyes that did it for him. He couldn’t bare letting you fall apart over an ugly motherfucker like your husband. He calmed you, pulling your limp body into his lap. His arms around you felt more like a strait jacket than a hug, but you took it readily. Your fingers gripped his shirt, and he truly realized the effect you had on him. Tilting your chin up, he hummed a soft apology before pressing his lips to yours, keeping his hand on your jaw.

Maybe, after that, it was a good thing the bedroom door was locked. Maybe it took a few days for you to completely move forward, legal papers signed and delivered at the little post office in town, 25 minutes from your cabin. Maybe Simon was there, his hands and lips unable to leave your skin for longer than a minute. Maybe, as he left with Laswell’s next instructions, he took you upstairs one last time and promised to be back later, when he was done—that he’d come back and take you to the courthouse that same evening, paying a stranger to watch you exchange vows if Johnny didn’t tag along like he figured he would, and you’d never feel lonely again.

Imagine your surprise when he showed up three months later and he kept his word—with a certain loud Scot in tow, too.

[milkyplier]

Ok I’m HERE pls elaborate on how Legend doesn’t push people away/want to be seen as strong. I will listen to All The Thoughts

HECK YEHA IM SO EXCITED OKAY LETS GO

And hold on tight, it’s long XD

I’ll go ahead and dump you right into it. Let’s look at his character traits, in Jojo’s original meet-the-characters sheet.

I want to focus on these two:

- Very mature for his age, but still young at heart

- Seems emotionally unaffected by his travels, however he keeps Koholint his dark secret

Long story short Legend doesn’t want to be seen as strong because he already is strong.

The idea that Legend pushes people away comes from the fear of losing those people. I think that Legend would have learned that loss is just a thing that happens. He can’t change that, he can’t stop it. And more importantly, he would have learned that not letting people inside in an effort to get hurt just wasn’t worth it. Ultimately, he would rather have friends and lose them one day than have no friends and spend his whole life (even more) alone and miserable.

Throughout the comic, we don’t even see Legend being any more or less receptive to the group’s relationship than anyone else. He hasn’t even been more secretive! It just feels like it because he has more things to stay quiet about. The reality is: Legend just knows when he does and doesn’t want to open his mouth and start spewing his personal information. He isn’t one to just spew words, I think that he considers every word that comes out of his mouth and as a result, just has no interest in sharing things about himself that don’t need sharing. Look here in the comic Scars:

Legend, Warriors, Hyrule, and Wild all share scars. Legend is the only one who doesn’t reveal the origin of his scar, by choice. Even Wild says “I don’t remember much,” which would seem to indicate that if he might have shared some information if he knew any. Legend remembers completely, and simply doesn’t say anything.

What does this tell us? Legend just has no interest in sharing where he got it. He has no problem remembering, and no issues with others’ curiosity—if he did, he wouldn’t have shown them the scar at all to avoid being harshly reminded and asked the inevitable “where did you get it?”

Long story short: Legend just has boundaries. And he’s very good at keeping them.

Legend doesn’t want to be seen as strong:

I just don’t think he’s that immature. I don’t think he is that anxious about his appearance. Yeah, I know, “but what about bunny Legend? He was worried about how the others would laugh at him because a bunny is weak and defenseless!”

Correct, but remember Legend says:

“I am so defenseless it’s pathetic. I’m a warrior, this is shameful.”

He is fully aware of how strong he is. And notice, he only talks about his strength in terms of weapons—he has absolutely no doubts about his emotional strength.

(Also, quick note: I like how Jojo uses the mirror to show us Legend’s face in this panel. She offers us a chance to sober up, to see exactly how this rabbit form has affected Legend and how he feels about it, and to take him seriously. She’s so clever!)

Also, “seems unaffected by his adventures, but keeps koholint his dark secret.” In other words, Koholint appears to be the only one his adventures he could not quite recover from. It was the only one that he could not just glean lessons from and then heal—it’s taking longer. But he’s clearly handling it well, and notice he doesn’t fight Twilight digging up the wound. He also doesn’t spill his whole secret willy-nilly.

He has no issues with being Hylian, with others seeing that he is only Hylian and he has emotions. He just also demonstrates incredible emotional maturity, in that he isn’t a blabber mouth.

To summarize: legend doesn’t push anyone away, he just conducts himself in a way we aren’t familiar with. He doesn’t spill his secrets because he doesn’t need to. And when he does, I’d bet my blog he’ll do it in a solid and intelligent way, not in a rush of tears and feelings because he’s been sick for seven days and he’s emotionally weakened. Legend also doesn’t feel a need to seem stronger than he is, because he knows his already incredible strength, and he also knows his weaknesses.

* * *

Okay, I think this is everything I’ve got right now XD sorry this took so long, it took my brain forever to get itself into shape. I hope this was at least semi-understandable hahaha

Thank you for reading!

[kmgkmg]

STARFLOWER - YOON JEONGHAN

word count: 6.6k…

pairing: jeonghan x gn!reader

synopsis: your guardian angel has come down to earth, what will happen?

genre/s: fantasy, angst, fluff, non-idol!au, guardian angel!jeonghan

warnings: bloody nose, fainting (once), religious mention, alcohol mention, brief depression, open ending

rating: pg-13

a/n: title is based off of starflower by raveena. this fic came to me as i was listening to been through by exo and i immediately saw potential in a oneshot! thank you a bunch to @hwasdollie for being the beta reader for this!! <3

The cold air kept you awake as you sat on the beach by yourself. You excused yourself from your friends’ wedding ceremony early, needing to detach yourself from everyone at the reception. They were all slowly becoming drunk and being around drunk people was never any fun for you. You weren’t one to typically wallow in your feelings, but seeing your ex marry the new love of his life would depress anyone. 

It seemed like just yesterday Hansol was asking you to marry him. But you were scared of commitment and knew that if you rushed into things neither of you would be happy. As they say, if you love them then you should let them go. And god, did you ever love Chwe Hansol. It just wasn’t destined to work for the two of you. But you were genuinely happy for him. At a certain point of the night though, it became overwhelming to see him glowing like the brilliant soul he is, while you stuffed down more finger food. 

So here now you are, seated in the sand with your shoes placed beside you. You burrowed your feet in the sand while picking up random seashells nearby. The sound of the waves allowed you to drown out your own thoughts. Something about nature always calmed you. Additionally, it was a crystal clear night which made watching the stars sparkle even better. Especially when they reflected on the pitch black water with just as much glimmer. 

You spot a shooting star and quickly make a wish, prone to believing in superstitions. Closing your eyes and clasping your hands together, you wish for your own happiness. Your own romance. Before you can open your eyes, the assumed shooting star hits the ground. Even with your eyes shut, the sheer brightness of it is enough to notice from far away. 

Your feet moved in that direction before you could think, as if something was gravitating you towards the light. As you walk closer and closer to the light, it becomes warmer and warmer. Although you had no drinks tonight, it feels as if something intoxicated you. Your pupils were dilated and you could feel yourself becoming dizzier with each step. Still, an unknown force was drawing you in  instinctively. 

A figure’s silhouette could be seen standing and you assumed they came to check out the source of the light as well. If it wasn’t a shooting star, maybe you just witnessed a meteorite falling. The only thing that wasn’t adding up with this theory is that meteorites typically make loud noise from the impact of breaking into the atmosphere. Yet, this mysterious light didn’t make a single sound. Your logic went out the window as your curiosity got the better of you. 

Finally, you were close enough to the person to tap their shoulder. A man with hair slightly above the shoulder looked back at you. He took your breath away. Never had you laid your eyes on someone as beautiful as him. All of the words that came to mind to describe him were mesmerizing in some way. 

Alluring. Dreamy. Angelic. 

The moment the word angelic comes to mind, warm liquid drips out of your nose. You go to wipe it and look down at your hand to see blood. 

“Why hello there, Y/N.” His smooth voice sends chills down your spine. Before you could respond, the vision of his smile is the last thing you see before losing your consciousness. 

Once you come to, you’re in your hotel room. Wonwoo is sleeping by your bedside, hair still gelled from the wedding, but gradually falling apart. When did I get back into my room? More importantly, why is Wonwoo next to me? 

Tapping his hand lightly was enough for him to stir awake, “Wonwoo?”

“Y/N, are you feeling okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” Wonwoo checks over your body, looking for any injuries. 

“How did I get back here? Last I remember I was on the beach…” You trail off, confusion lacing your tone. 

“You don’t remember anything?” Wonwoo cautiously asked.

 You shook your head no.

 “Well, I saw you slip away and figured you went back to your room. But, we said we would game together and when I knocked on your door, you weren’t responding at all.” Wonwoo recounts, furrowing his eyebrows as he worries all over again. 

“Hey, it’s alright,” You reassure, putting your fingers on Wonwoo’s face to relieve the tension between his eyebrows. 

“But then, I called your phone and Minghao picked up. He said he found it on the beach. I mean it was next to your shoes, as if you left us. Minghao suspected the worst but I kept looking on the shoreline and found you passed out towards the rocks,” Wonwoo informs you, looking for any changes in your expression in recognition of your night. 

“Oh, I remember taking my shoes off to feel the sand on my feet. And there was a shooting star…and then a light…” You begin to recall your last memories. 

 “I mean, imagine how scared we were, Y/N!” Wonwoo half scolds half cries while hugging you. 

“Wonwoo, Wonwoo. I’m okay now though, look.” You attempt to calm him, unused to him being overly emotional. 

“Right, but you should still go to a doctor,” Wonwoo replies, gently taking the comforter off of you and looking around for his phone. 

“No, no. I really am fine. I swear! Thank you for finding me, but I think I just fell asleep. Really,” You emphasize the last really, not wanting to make this bigger than it already is.

“Y/N. You didn’t just fall asleep, I was shaking you and you still didn’t wake up.” 

“Freaky…?” You shrug, hoping Wonwoo would let you both move on from it. The stern look on his face proved your nonchalant attitude didn’t dispel his worries one bit. 

You try again, “How about a compromise? I’ll go to the doctors’ once we’re back home and report to you how it goes?”

In return, he tries convincing you one more time, before giving up. However much he was stubborn, you bested him at it tenfold. “Fine, but can I get you anything? You did eat a lot at the wedding, but that was hours ago,” He’s restless as he stands by your bedside. Knowing him, he wouldn’t rest assured until he did something, anything to help you. 

“You know I could definitely devour one of those breakfast sandwiches from the brunch place down the street later,” you suggest.

Before you could even finish your sentence, Wonwoo was putting on his jacket and shoes. “Your wish is my command.”

“Wonwoo, please. At least go back to your hotel room and take those contacts out and wear your glasses. You were sleeping when I woke up and we both know sleeping in contacts is a big no,” you request, feeling bad you made him feel so panicked. 

“I’ll do that after you get some food in you, don’t worry!” 

“What happened to my wish being your command? So wish number one, go wear your glasses and switch into something more comfortable. Maybe even go take a nice warm shower? I’m not hungry right now but I am tired, so I think I’m just going to rest for a couple of hours more,” you plan out, observing the bags underneath his eyes. 

Wonwoo makes his way over to the bed again and leans over to inspect your condition close-up. He stands straight again and crosses his arms, “I guess that works. But I’ll be back after you’ve had some rest, just text me, yeah?” 

You nod, “Here, if it makes your mind more at ease I can give you one of the spare keys,” you reach over to the nightstand and hand him a keycard. 

“Thank you, Y/N. You know I just worry.” He took the key softly from your grasp.  “Also nobody else knows about what happened. Well, besides Minghao, so don’t worry. I just told everyone that we had a gaming tournament going on instead of joining that scenic ziplining course.”

“Even figuring out an alibi for me? How’d I end up with the best friend ever?” You rhetorically ask, glad he covered for you so it was one less thing to worry about. 

“You are pretty lucky to have me…” He states, returning to his playful self. 

“Okay dork, see you later.” You retort, lightly throwing a pillow at him to shoo him away. 

He waves before heading out. You weren’t lying to him about being tired. You felt as if you were a bear preparing to hibernate, able to sleep through an entire season. That is, until a voice woke you from your groggy slumber. 

“Finally, he’s gone,” A voice yawned with a relaxed tone. 

Your eyes snap open, despite the tiredness you felt just moments ago. Your eyes darted across the room trying to find who it was, finally finding him near your window. It was the guy from last night. In the broad daylight his beauty was even more captivating. His hair was dark enough to match the night’s sky, his dark brown eyes reminded you of the vastness of black holes, so rich and vast that if you looked at him for too long you were afraid you would succumb to any and every demand he had. 

“You’re the guy from last night! How the hell did you get in here? No, I remember you saying my name before I passed out…how do you know who I am? Wait, you saw me pass out, why the fuck would you leave me there for someone to find?” Questions came one after another without ceasing. 

“Slow your roll, starflower,” The mysterious man replies, “I always forget how curious you are.”

“Curious? You suddenly showed up in my room. I think I’m allowed to ask questions. I’m being a lot more lenient in not calling security on you right now,” You snap back as you scramble out of bed and search for anything that could function as a makeshift weapon. Starflower?

“How do I put it… I’m your guardian angel.” He pauses for effect. “Or rather, I was your guardian angel. Let’s not stress over the fine details, though. The reason I couldn’t help you on the beach is that we are not allowed to interfere with human affairs,” He explains himself. 

“Guardian angel? You have got to be kidding me,” You reach over on the nightstand to the landline phone. Security can surely deal with this intruder. 

“Test me. Ask me something about your childhood that only you would know,” He throws bait to you, still not moving from standing in front of the window. 

“How did I get this scar on my hand?” You point at the faint scar in between your thumb and index finger, certain he wouldn’t be able to guess what happened. 

“You told everyone you got it from fighting with Mingyu, but really your childhood cat gave it to you. You loved making handmade collars when it was a kitten. As you were adding beads, the dangling ribbon enticed your cat and caused it to scratch your hand,” He answers, proud of himself for retelling in such detail.  

Your grip on the phone weakens slightly as he shares the truth about your childhood. You ask a different question, “Who was my first love?” 

He answers correctly once more, “Wonwoo. Again, you always lie and tell people it was Hansol.” 

His responses proved he somehow knew you, though you were still suspicious of him. 

“So you’ve been protecting me my whole life?” You ask skeptically. You weren’t opposed to the idea of beings such as ghosts and angels existing, but this new reality was just sprung upon you. 

“Sort of,” he begins, “we are assigned a human to protect from our birth. Our bodies age at the same rate as humans, but mentally, I’m several millennia older than you. Guarding for guardian angels is quite an ironic word. See, we are only able to watch, not help. I couldn’t interfere with your life, but I did. Hence why I’m here.” 

“So, I have a fallen angel by my side?” You inquire, having his story sound all too familiar to what you’ve heard about fallen angels. 

He winces at your words before quickly regaining his composure, “you sure are a straightforward one, huh?” 

“I mean I passed out when I first saw you and now you are in my room. Uninvited. You could kidnap me for all I know, and yet I’m the straightforward one?” 

He laughs at your summary of interaction with him. “I suppose when you put it that way, I am quite bizarre. But indeed, I am a fallen angel. I figured if I am banished from heaven, the best thing I could do with my time is ensure you are living properly with my assistance.”

An embarrassed realization hits, “Did you hear my wishes last night?”

“Which? The one about you wanting happiness or the one about you wanting romance?” He questioned, picking up on your embarrassment and prying on it even more. 

You direly wanted to change the topic. “What is your name anyways, angel?”

“You know it already, starflower. It is part of our bond.” He states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Let’s discuss Wonwoo, yes? Wonwoo has great potential for the romance you seek.”

“There’s so much to unpack with what you just said. First things first, what do you mean I know your name already? And why do you keep calling me starflower?” Your mind is racing a mile a minute trying to decipher what he was talking about. 

“Think hard, if you had to name me, what would you choose?” He uncrosses his arms, waiting for you to follow his instructions. “As for your nickname, that shall remain a secret for now.”

You go through several names mentally, none of them sticking. Until, a name practically jumps out saying call me by this! Call me by this!

“Yoon… Jeonghan?”

He smirks, pleased with your success in finding his name. 

“Anyways, Jeonghan you have got things so wrong. Wonwoo is my best friend and roommate, not a potential love interest. I’m pretty sure Wonwoo would gag if I asked him out on a date,” you scoff, entertained by how off the mark your alleged guardian angel was. 

“Angels can detect people’s true intentions. When he was oh-so worried about you, that was more than platonic love he was experiencing,” He revealed.

“Yeah…sure. But if you are so otherworldly, I assume you’re the reason why I passed out last night? Why I felt so drawn to the light?” 

“It is the truth, but if you choose to deny it I cannot stop you from doing so,” he shrugs. “Last night, I forgot to mask my power for humans to handle. I wasn’t expecting for us to meet, and I surely wasn’t expecting you to be the one to find me first.”

“What was your plan then?”

“To land, probably find somewhere to live, then slowly work my way into your life,” he lists off his old plan, looking elsewhere as if daydreaming about it. 

“I see,” You were still trying to process everything he was telling you.

A knock on your door interrupts the conversation. 

“Y/N?” Wonwoo knocks on your door, waiting for your reply.

“Come on in, Woo,” you invite him, knowing he still has one of your keys.  

“I got you a sandwich from that place you wanted to try! They stopped selling breakfast sandwiches at noon though so I ordered the one I thought you would like the best. Who were you talking to by the way?” 

“Jeonghan-” you point at the window only for Jeonghan to be gone. 

Wonwoo's eyes drifted toward the direction you were pointing, only to be equally confused when he saw nobody. 

Thinking quickly, you grabbed your phone on the nightstand, “I pointed because, um, we were talking about the ocean! I just finished my phone call with him though.” 

“Gotcha,” Wonwoo replies with doubting eyes but deciding to leave it be. He quickly sat down beside you in bed, still worried that you might have a concussion.

Mingyu’s heart had been broken once again by someone he met off Tinder and being the loyal childhood friend you were, you offered to console him over food and drinks. What wasn’t in the plans for the night was you getting drunk alongside him. 

“Y/N, text me when you’re home safe!” Mingyu’s voice booms through the streets as he waves from a distance. 

“Sounds good!” You shout back, flailing your hand to wave goodbye to Mingyu as his sister helps him into the passenger side of her car. 

Your apartment wasn’t too far from the restaurant that you and Mingyu met up at, which is why you were walking home alone. The sun started setting about an hour ago, resulting in a fairly dark night sky. 

The walk was less than ten minutes, you knew that. It still didn’t stop you from getting tired halfway through. You sat on a curb, trying to collect yourself before heading home. Sure, you and Wonwoo were both grown adults, but that didn’t stop his worrying whenever you came home tipsy. Your eyelids became heavier and heavier until you fell asleep, with your head on your knees.

Before you fall fully asleep, you hear someone’s footsteps approaching you. Even in your not-so sober state, you hurriedly find your wallet and open it for the stranger in front of you. 

“I only have forty dollars in cash, here take it,” you mumbled while handing them the money, not once looking up. 

“What are we to do with you?” A voice you recognize makes you spring up from the curb. The speed in which you get up nearly makes you sick, resulting in sitting down once again. He crouches down in front of you. 

“Jeonghan!” You put both hands on his shoulders, “I thought I hallucinated you! I mean you drop the bomb that you’re my guardian angel and then I don’t see you for two weeks!” 

Jeonghan plays along with your drunken state, “Oh, I’m mean, aren’t I?” 

“Yeah, you’re a big meanie!” You childishly retort. 

Jeonghan nods his head in agreement, enjoying this version of you. He watched you grow up, but watching and actually being a part of your life were two very different things. 

“I didn’t know you were this cute, human.” 

Being drunk always gives you a boost of confidence, “You’ve seen me since birth haven’t you! I was born this cute!” You put your hands on your hips to show off your charms for Jeonghan. 

He can’t help but chuckle at your behavior and how wildly contrasting you are from your first encounter. “Come on, I’ll help you get home,” he holds out his hand, waiting for you to take it. 

“Wait, you can’t disappear on me again! If you bump into Wonwoo, won’t you go away?” You reply. 

“I don’t like being seen by other humans that are acquainted with you. But, I’ll visit you again tomorrow. Just think of me and I’ll appear.” He promises. 

You tilt your head up and smile in satisfaction, taking his hand to head home. 

Jeonghan knocks on your apartment door with his free hand as he holds you up with his other arm. Wonwoo’s shuffling can be heard from behind the door which gives Jeonghan enough comfort to leave you alone. The beeping of the door opening causes you to look up at Wonwoo. 

“Oh? I’m home!” You announce giddily with your arms outstretched in a ta-da fashion. You kiss him on the cheek, another drunken habit of yours.  

Wonwoo’s face turns red. He was the biggest victim of your physical affection being your roommate and best friend, but being in love with you only made it harder for him to just write it off as drunken behavior.

“Y/N? God, for your health you need to drink in moderation!” He lovingly nags, opening the door wider for you to walk in. 

You stumble inside, sharing the events of the night with him as he untied your sneakers for you. “Mingyu ordered some Bacardi after dinner! What am I supposed to do, not drink with him?” 

Wonwoo simply shakes his head in disapproval, tapping your right knee lightly for you to lift your leg. He took off the shoe with ease and moved to the other foot. 

“I understand having a drink or two, but you have work in the morning,” He grunts, tapping your other leg as he takes off the remaining shoe. 

You stagger into the living room and collapse onto the coach, “No, I don’t. Tomorrow’s Saturday, silly.” 

Wonwoo grabs his phone and checks the date. You were right. “Still, drink some water and get to bed, yeah?” 

You hum, “Mm-hmm.” 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes before handing you a water bottle from the fridge, “Drink up.”

You twist open the cap of the water bottle as Wonwoo’s phone goes off, “Ooh, who is that? A new potential love interest?”

Wonwoo vehemently denies your speculation, “NO! I mean, um, no, it’s just Mingyu.”

You nod, satisfied, while sipping water. “Can you tell him I got home safe?” 

“Sure, go to bed though. And-”

“Make sure to sleep on my side, got it.” You finish his thoughts. 

As you lay in bed that night, your interactions with your guardian angel keep you up. He’s real. Jeonghan wasn’t an illusion. 

“Humans are so cute.” Jeonghan states while window shopping in front of a local boutique. 

“And why is that?” You humor him. Ever since the night when he found you drunk, Jeonghan and you made it a habit to have daily strolls in the morning together. Before the mundanity of the workday tired you out, you were able to converse with him and quickly became close.

He obtains the object that was once in the window with the snap of his fingers and holds it up for you to see, a Calico Critter. “I mean, what creative creatures you are to make something this cute!” 

“Jeonghan, put that back!” You order, unable to get over his powers. 

“You’re no fun,” he frowns, instantly making the Calico Critter go back to its original location as he resumes walking. 

You walk into the store, asking the owner if you could buy the item in the window. Jeonghan, still oblivious to this, looked at other shops’ windows and deliberated on what to grab and tease you about next. 

“Y/N, this suits you,” He turns to his side with a bracelet, only for you to be absent. It didn’t take long for you to catch up to him, displaying the new purchase on your palm. 

“I never said you couldn’t get it, I just didn’t want you to steal it with your powers,” You reason, grabbing his hand and placing the toy in it. You took note of the bracelet in his other hand, “Now is that bought or snatched again?” 

Within seconds he had returned it to its original location. Disappearing from your view completely. He waved his empty hands in front of you, “Returned.”

“That’s what I thought,” you triumphantly finish. 

“You’re no fun…” he starts again. 

“This is feeling like deja vu.” You scratch your head jokingly. 

“...thank you for the trinket though, I will cherish it.” His gaze was shifting all over the place, anywhere but your eyes. 

“You’re welcome, angel.” 

After a long day of work, you changed into your pajamas to unwind. It had been nearly six days since you last saw Jeonghan, but who was keeping track? You were trying your best to not be worried and finished work early which resulted in you getting home at 4:30 instead of the usual 6:30. 

 The neighbor next door kindly dropped off a variety of cookies for you and Wonwoo yesterday. Wonwoo took one bite of them earlier and texted that they were too sweet which only excited you. Wonwoo could handle spice really well while you loved overly sweet food, so whenever he said something was too sweet you knew it would match your palate. You grabbed a handful of cookies to accompany the glass of milk you just poured. 

With your snacks, you slid into your usual spot on the couch. Nothing beats lounging with dessert. The theme song to your favorite program began playing and you found yourself laughing in no time.

After the show, you tuned in to the highly anticipated drama that began airing last week. Its premise was of an angel falling for a mortal and since you now knew an angel, it seemed like a fitting show to watch. Not even twenty minutes into the new episode, you critiqued the show.

“That’s so inaccurate, Jeonghan doesn’t even have wings? Does he?” You mutter to yourself. 

Jeonghan managed to occupy more space in your mind than you’d like. Four months had passed since your first encounter with him, yet it felt like you knew him your entire life. While he had witnessed you growing up, everything about him was new to you. The way his high-pitched laugh was drastically different from his deep voice. The way in which he carried himself, his natural laid-back attitude alongside his affinity for teasing you. You couldn’t help but miss him when it felt like you knew everything yet knew nothing about him. He intrigued you unlike anyone or anything before. 

You turned off the TV, sitting in silence while thinking about Jeonghan. 

Another day passed without him. About an hour ago, dinner ended with Wonwoo as he called it an early night. You both knew he planned to game in his room until dawn, but could pick up that he wanted alone time. You, on the other hand, weren’t in the mood to game tonight. Since the weather was calm, you decided to take a brisk walk in the local park. This walk would also be an opportunity to talk to Jeonghan since you missed him, but you’d never admit that to his face. 

There were very few people in the park which surprised you since last time you strolled it was fairly crowded. 

“How do the stars look from up there?” You wondered out loud. 

Jeonghan appears out of thin air, “Brighter?”

You clench your grip on your tote bag, not once being able to evade him scaring you. His attempt to describe stars makes you laugh at his lack of sentimentality. 

“What a great way to describe it, Jeonghan.” 

“Well, I can always take you up there and you can enjoy the night sky from a view you’ve never seen before,” he offers, extending his hand out for you to hold. 

You were unaware that such a wish could be granted. You wanted to ask where he’d been or if he was okay, but asking was easier said than done. Taking his hand, you were still full of other questions before going. “Won’t the difference in altitude make me sick? Plus space is like a vacuum so it’s dangerous for humans, right? It all has to affect me somehow…” 

“As long as you’re with me, you’re safe,” He reassures you. 

You squeeze his hand, ready to go wherever he took you. That signal alone was enough for him to transport you both onto a nearby asteroid. 

The stars were seemingly limitless in quantity. Cameras don’t pick up on every detail that the human eye does, but the difference from satellite photos to what you were witnessing was crazy. 

“It’s breathtaking,” you sigh in awe at the abundance. 

“It is, isn’t it? Even we as angels don’t know how many different universes exist. The unknown is beautiful.” 

You stargaze together in silence, letting time slip away. 

Jeonghan cleared his throat after a while, “If we leave Earth now, you and me,” he begins, “the end will arrive.”

“End to what?”

“The end of your suffering, my starflower. We can just live here, you know,” He tempts. 

You sit in silence for a long while, weighing your options. Not having to wake up everyday and work your routine and mundane job. Not having to see Hansol with his new spouse. not having to stress about family drama back home…it all sounded too good to be true. 

“I can’t stay here, Jeonghan,” You refuse his offer, backing away from him. 

“Why not? Is this not what you have wished for? I can give you both happiness and romance. Convincing Wonwoo to come here should be no issue,” He proposes to bring Wonwoo as a friend. Hoping maybe you would sway at the mention of him. But it proved to be futile, as you only backed up from him even more. Jeonghan couldn’t help but think: What do they want then? What could be better than eternal happiness and love?

“Jeonghan, happiness here is too easy.  Human life is beautiful because of the successes and the failures. If I escape my life on Earth and stay here, such a desolate place, that’s not truly living.” 

Before Jeonghan can reply, a piercing nonstop ringing causes him to cover his ears. It was a sound he hated being all too familiar with. 

“Jeonghan, what do you hear?” 

“A call from heaven,” he explains, “I will transport you back to your place, you cannot stay here alone.” The fast pace of his words moved with the fast pace of his actions. Before you could protest, you were back in your living room. Alone.

“State your identification number,” the clerk orders him.

“1004,” Jeonghan obediently provides.

“Human-given name?”

“Yoon. Jeong. Han.” He makes sure to enunciate each syllable slowly. 

“The Great One’s mission?”

“To oversee humans’ happiness and protect them from harm,” He could recite the mission in his sleep. If angels did sleep. 

“Your overseer shall be with you in a moment,” the clerk informs him, not even sparing a glance as they move to the next person in line. 

A moment later in angel time is practically a month, but it only feels like a couple hours for humans. He was trying to be cautious of what time it was by you since he didn’t want you to worry too much. 

Your response to his offer was expected, but he couldn’t help tempting you. It’s the ideal life, a life that he wishes he could give you.

“1004, why have you gone against the Almighty and fled your duties?” The oh-too-familiar booming voice of his overseer transports him into the Judgement Room. This is worse than I thought.

“I want to stay with Y/N. Believe me, if I could take back my actions I would.” Jeonghan vowed. 

“You must repent for the sins you have committed,” His overseer doubles down, “just now, you have tempted them again in living with you.”

“I knew they wouldn’t accept. I was just fulfilling my own desires,” Jeonghan explains.  

“You never learn, 1004. You will always be selfish,” his overseer pulls out a scroll and begins to read the punishment for Jeonghan. 

Jeonghan experienced a searing pain on his left arm as a countdown was etched onto his skin. Branding was practically a death sentence for an angel. 

“Those are the days that you have left on Earth. Use them wisely.”

You rushed to his side, unable to hide your curiosity with what happened. 

“So, are they accepting you back as an angel?”

“Something like that,” he faintly smiles at you, watching you practically jump up and down in joy for him. 

How could he tell you the truth when you were so happy for him?

“That’s amazing, Jeonghan!” You beam. 

“You shine like the stars, Y/N.” His unexpected compliment startles you, but you quickly brush it off that he’s excited about being accepted again.

“Always a flatterer, Jeonghan.” You fake groan, secretly happy from his words. 

“What do you think our life would look like if we were both regular humans?” You ask Jeonghan. Wonwoo was visiting his family for the weekend, leaving the apartment to yourself. Well, you and Jeonghan. 

“Why do you ask that, my starflower?” He asks back, continuing to draw soft traces of circles on your body. 

“I don’t know…weren’t you ever curious? I know I’m curious about how I would act as an angel. I guess it could just be human nature to be greedy in imagining the impossible.” You speculate, going on a tangent near the end. 

He smiles at your curiosity. 

Soon, Jeonghan. You have to tell them soon. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to tell you, not after you had just opened your soul up to him. It would hurt too much. So he promised himself that he’d tell you a different day. 

Although Jeonghan was a fallen angel, he was still able to watch your life play out in real-time. As the countdown number on his arm dwindled down it became much more difficult for him to put up a front with you. He relied on watching you from afar, a skill he utilized for most of his life. As more days passed, the pain became more constant and unbearable. The mark was invisible to the human eye, one aspect he’s thankful for. 

Jeonghan waited for the clock to turn midnight. The second it did, the scorching sensation became present on his left forearm without fail. The number slowly and excruciatingly was rewritten from 3 to 2, indicating he only had two days left on Earth. Two days left with you. Knowing his time is nearing to a close is one thing, but the fact that he would never see you again weighed down on his heart more. 

Tears trickled down his face one by one and he let himself feel his emotions until there were no more tears left to cry. He knew angels were unable to stay on Earth, but for some reason he thought the higher ups would make an exception. He wanted to stay by your side, but the inevitable was bound to happen.  

“Should we go to my hometown?” You excitedly ask Jeonghan as you take another morning stroll together. Except this time, it was the early morning. You were unable to fall asleep and  He had taken you to a nearby beach, making sure it wasn’t going to be crowded. 

Today’s Jeonghan’s last day. With every fiber of his being he wanted to visit your hometown, but he was afraid of disappearing before you made it there. It was evident that he was absorbed in his own thoughts, still not answering your suggestion. 

He trips while walking but before he falls, you catch him. As you catch him, he grabs his stomach, clearly in pain. “Jeonghan? What’s going on?”

He could only look at you with a pained expression before breaking the news, “I have to go back now.” 

A bright white glow emits from his arm. This was wrong, he didn’t seem happy about going back…

“Can’t we go together?” You asked in a hurry. “This doesn’t seem right, I changed my mind! I want to go with you and we can live together!”

“Y/N, you know we can’t.” With each second passing, he was becoming more transparent. “You have to live here, and live happily for me. Prove that my time on Earth was worth it,” His voice started to fade as well. You were struggling to hear him, his words coming out softer than a whisper. 

“Jeonghan, don't leave, please! I miss you even if you’re gone for a day, please don’t leave me.” Your distraught pleads were met with silence. He was gone from this world. Yet, you were unable to stop calling out his name. The reality of his words were unable to reach you. 

“I have so much to tell you though,” You managed to say between sobs, “why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

Similar to the first night you found him, you felt yourself getting dizzy. One by one your memories with Jeonghan played in your head, like a montage. Yet after each memory finished, you found it harder to remember the previous one. Losing memories of Jeonghan was was your worst fear that you weren’t aware of until it was too late.

At times, you felt that something was off. The most aggravating part is that you could never quite place your finger on it. You found yourself waking up in the night often, wiping tears from your eyes. Waking up in a cold sweat was another regular occurrence lately. Your dreams always had a recurring person who would save you, but just as you were about to see their face, the dreams would be cut short. 

You went through each day simply going through the motions, incapable of figuring out what felt missing in your life. It was a sense of loss. But loss of what?

It felt as if you were a shell of yourself, unable to find joy in anything. Your friends and family had all been very understanding during this time, but each attempt to do anything was met with a greater lack of motivation. 

Wonwoo had accidentally spilled water on your Nintendo Switch. Sleepy Wonwoo with no glasses in the morning was a recipe for disaster. But his friend recommended this place, raving about the employees’ abilities so you thought to give it a go.

“Why hello there, Y/N.” A voice greets you as you walk into the electronic repair shop. 

“Do I know you?” You look the person up and down, certain you didn’t know them. 

“No, sorry about that! Your name is on your tote bag,” He explains, pointing to the bag hanging over your shoulder. 

“Ah, I see,” you reply, taking out the damaged gaming console. “I was wondering if you would be able to repair this anytime soon?”

“What is the issue?” He asks, inspecting the electronic.

“My roommate spilled water on it and didn’t realize until hours after…” You explain.

“Oh, it’s just water? That’s an easy fix! It would’ve been more trouble if the liquid was sticky or something. We should be able to get this back to you in about four days.” He diagnoses, providing an estimate to pick it up.

You smile wide, “Thank God! I’ve been worrying about if it would be broken forever.”

“No need to worry, you’re safe as long as you’re with me,” he promises.

An immense feeling of deja vu hits you, but not long before realizing what the employee said.

“You mean my Nintendo Switch, right?” 

“Right! Sorry it’s been a long day,” He smiles warmly at you. 

You’re positive that working in customer service requires one to try their best to please their customers, but his smile felt too intimate. The employee waits for you to say something, confused by your silence. 

“Sorry! How much will it be?”

“About $60. Can I have a number and name for the order? Your number is only used to contact you once your order is ready for pickup.” 

You share your number before introducing yourself, “I’m Y/N L/N. You are?”

His attention breaks from the computer in which he was inputting your information. “I’m Yoon Jeonghan. Nice to meet you, Y/N.” 

“Nice to meet you too, Jeonghan.” You reach out to shake his hand. He shakes it and you complete your payment before heading out of the shop.

Jeonghan watches you walk away, convinced that there was a soft warm glow around your body.

You still shine brighter than the stars, my starflower. 

[ferie-anon]

Mbti dissections+Astrology (2)

🫧 Infps are literally everywhere, its also a bit easy to tell if they’re an infp. Like quite literally a go with the flow or “everything is fine, at least Im in one piece” type of manner. I have 4 infp friends and they are compassionate yet goofy lil softballs. Like ur talking about something and they will suddenly link it to something random. When we were mentioning bridgerton on netflix, my infp friend went: paddington? Like the bear? And we all went: huh?- Creative lil weirdos, they definitely have a way with words and creativity with their own thinking and ideas.

🫧 Isfjs are quite the giver for humanitarian things or aim to help for the wellbeing of people. They’re the type to donate blood, volunteer, or do work surrounding an organization that helps others. I have a friend who retook the test and got isfj, and altho she was sad cuz she wanted to still be a isfp lol. But it makes sense as she actually does a lot of humanitarian work and cares a lot about the wellbeing of her friends and etc. she volunteered to donate blood once but her iron level was too low, and she was always interested in learning ASL and even thought of being a ASL interpreter in the future. These ppl are naturally giving or drawn to helping others in some way.

🫧 I have a friend who is an estp and he is a very hardworking person and thoughtful person. These types are just as their mbti title suggest: “entrepreneur”. They get a lot of things done and yet with having p (perceiving) in their type, they can tend to over do it and end up lost in their own stuff and overwhelmed. Estps also show their love and care through actions such as doing things for their friends or getting them thoughtful gifts etc, they find it hard to express their love simply thru words and show it thru the quality time spent with their loved ones and physical/tangible affections and actions.

🫧 Astrology + Mbti section 🫧

Observations may not apply to everyone, take wut u resonate and relate with

🎀 Air and earth placements in a birthchart tends to analyze and be very eloquent and prepared on what to say. The air energy allows them to gather information and put together the concepts as earth placements can analyze or fixate upon the details for a deeper reasoning. Often times, these individuals with both these energies in their chart would have a t (thinking) or j (judging) in their mbti. The need to organize their findings and many concepts and ideas they can latch onto make them excellent speakers/debaters and detectives, articulate and precise.

🎀 Air and water placements, especially cancer and gemini, together in a birthchart can make them emotional and receptive to others emotions and social awareness. This leads to them to go with the flow or to try to offer an understanding level, its also why ppl find them easy to talk to and relating - allowing them to talk to these individuals while they offer a listening ear and comforting words. These individuals with these placements may have f (feeling) or p (perceiving) in their mbti. Able to adapt or not be judgmental of others differences, they are open to many different lifestyle, ideas, and people. Additionally with air + water in their chart, they can creatively channel their ideas a lot onto art or appeal to others with their own ways of expression and thinking.

🎀 I notice a few ppl with taurus sun/moon with taurus mercury in their chart could have an s (sensing) in their mbti. The way they think is more grounded with a sense of logic to it, they’re more calm and rational about realistic problems or ideas and may not jump to as much conclusions or assumptions as n (intuitive) type ppl (who may overthink a lot). The way they express themselves is in an honest and levelheaded way, not overly complicating things by sticking to their core principles and logical reasons to break it down.

[antiradqueef]

Ignore this if you want because I do fit into your DNI (I've got a DNI), but I've got a question:

What is a "transid alternative", and how does that differ from just being transid?

Isn't something like wanting to pretend to be autistic or a nazi shitty all around?? /gen

YAY someone is giving me an excuse to yap about transIDs and my complicated opinions about them

absolutely no offense taken for breaking my DNI lol its more of a jokey thing but stand up so u can sit down cus im getting started

so as we all know the human brain is weird as fuck and it can make you feel weird as fuck, percieve things weird as fuck, do things weird as fuck, etc. one of these things is atypical dysphoria. so you have like. regular dysphoria where your human body feels weird like it should look like a different human body. but then you have atypical dysphoria where your body thinks it should look like something that is not a human body. or something their human body could not have.

and people with this atypical dysphoria wanted to have a term to say "hey i feel like i should be (thing) even though im not!". they didnt want to use transID because thats a) disrespectful to trans people and b) as you mentioned, a little taken over by shit like "transnazi".

so then there were alternatives coined to encompass this weird feeling without being associated with transID or trans people, and without being disrespectful to people who actually are/have those things. it is also a general rule that alternatives to "trans-harmful/hateful" (like transnazi) are off the table because of how incredibly disrespectful that is. although, as i said, the human brain is very weird and i wouldnt put it past it to make someone feel like they "shouldve been a nazi" but maybe thats one for the therapist and not the tumblr bio.

here is a list of transID alternatives by @report-rqs

i also do think a lot of people who use transID dont understand the harm its doing or why its bad so i try to be open-minded and receptive to them and explain it because its rough out there and theyre not gonna listen if i just spout insults at them.

thats why im a little split on whether to put anti-transID in my intro because it did make people like you willing to reach out, but it might turn away people that i could help but i still just dont want people to think that im okay with people claiming to be transnazi or transautistic.