#imagining this in my head is easier than writing it down sorry if it doesn’t make sense

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

Hi! Firstly, thank you for creating this blog and helping all of us out! Secondly, and sorry if this is such a silly question, but how do you write an engaging summary?

I find my own fic summaries are so… lackluster… and not even I’m interested in reading it — so how I can I expect others to be? Even if I like my story, when I write the summary in the start of my fic/in my masterlist, I’m like “Wow… this is not even remotely interesting! 😭”

So yeah, I was wondering if you had any tips/advice for that? 😭 Totally fine if not, I just figured I’d ask. Thanks and have a great day/night! 😘

HOW TO WRITE AN ENGAGING FIC SUMMARY THAT WILL DRAW IN AUDIENCES

Summaries are the bane of many writers’ existences, including my own. It’s already hard enough to get the words down on paper for the actual story, and now people want you to convince them to read it with something more than “I WORKED REALLY HARD ON IT PLEASE IT’S GOOD I PROMISE!!!!”

Squishing a ton of context into a small blurb seems impossible, but I promise it can be done!

Obviously everyone goes about things differently, and a lot of these tips may not work for everyone, but nevertheless, here are some tricks on how to write an engaging summary!

Here’s a simple template I like to use, which will be the focus of this post:

Hook (Draw the reader in!)

Context (What are the core elements of your story?)

Cliffhanger (Introduce a question/scenario that the reader will want to click to know more about!)

1. Start With a Hook

Just like with the first sentence of a story, the first sentence of your summary should immediately spark the reader’s interest.

A bold statement! A good (short) quote from your fic! A shocking discovery! A cool word definition/the definition of your title!

I always like to put the hook of the story on its own line/paragraph, just to emphasize it.

Examples of a hook (Note, these are rushed and off the top of my head. Just meant to give a general idea, not be literary masterpieces): - "It all started when Character A puked on their Uber driver." - "War was inevitable." - "Character A would be dead by sunrise. That’s what Character B vowed." - "By the time they got to the city, it was too late."

Your hook is probably the most important part of your summary; someone will know within milliseconds whether or not they will continue reading.

Once you’re past that initial hump, it’ll be easier to convince a potential reader to skim the rest of the summary. Giving something that jumps out at them will set your story apart from others and ensure it gets that click you deserve!

2. Give Some Context

For shorter one-shots, sometimes a single hook is enough! But if your fic is longer, with a bit more moving parts, you might want to choose a few highlights. Get the essence of your story on paper.

This can be super hard, so don’t feel discouraged if you feel like you’re not getting it. I’d suggest keeping your context to about 1-3 sentences depending on the length of your story, so make sure they count.

Buzzwords are a key factor in getting the main points across. Use ones that relate to your main plot to your advantage! 

For example, if I were to make a short summary of Game of Thrones for someone who has never watched it before, I would definitely include some of these buzzwords: - Dragons - Conquest - Succession - Revenge - Slaughter - Betrayal

Using powerful words (i.e. slaughtered instead of killed) can help draw in your audience!

I can't dictate exactly how you should write your context, since every fic is different and shouldn't be brought under an umbrella of the same rules, so it might help to find inspiration from other people’s summaries.

3. Pose a Question the Reader Will Want the Answer To

The biggest point of a summary is the “so what?” factor. You have all of these tags, but how does the fic make use of them?

A summary shouldn’t be giving all of the answers, but it should still leave crumbs for the reader’s imagination! This doesn’t mean that you literally need to put a question in the summary, but rather pose an unresolved scenario/problem that the reader will want to click to know the solution to.

Here are some example sentence templates that pose an indirect question, often put at the end of a summary to spark interest (Note, these are rushed and off the top of my head. Just meant to give a general idea, not be literary masterpieces): - "Everything changes the moment Character A makes a choice they can't take back." (What is that choice? How does it affect the other characters?) - "As the truth comes to light, nothing will ever be the same." (What is the truth? How does it change things?) - "A dangerous game begins, and only one can emerge unscathed." (Who will be that person?) - “It’s the first time they meet, but it won’t be the last” (What will be these next instances? How do their worlds collide?)

4. Some General Advice

If you don't think the above format works well with your fic, here's just some general advice that can help you out!

DON'T MAKE IT TOO LONG

The biggest mistake I see writers making when posting their work is having a giant four-paragraph summary for their story that takes up half of the feed.

Unfortunately, in an age of fast swiping and instant gratification, a reader may skip over a super long summary simply because they don’t feel like reading all of it.

(The reason why long summaries work for books is because people are more patient when they intend on paying to read something; they’ll take more time considering investments than they would with a free read, since they want to make sure it's worth their money. It’s not fair, but that’s kind of how it goes.)

In my opinion, a fic summary should be no more than one short paragraph, two or three sentences max for a one-shot and maybe five sentences for a long fic.

This isn't exact. It really depends on the length and complexity of the sentence, because no matter the how many you use, if there are enough words to make folks comprehend it as a big block of text, then they’re going to be more likely to skip it.

People looking for long fics will be more patient (since they’re making an investment with their time, rather than money) but if you want to appeal to a wider audience that may be casually browsing and stumble across your fic, definitely consider a more brief route.

PROOFREADING MATTERS!

Because summaries are often an afterthought, many writers don’t put as much effort into it as they would the rest of their story.

I wouldn’t recommend this; people are basing their ENTIRE initial opinion of your fic on this small blurb.

If you rush it and make spelling or grammar errors, people will assume that the rest of your fic is also riddled with errors and scroll past!

Make sure to proofread!

Hope this helped, and happy writing!

[little-diable]

Superficial Love - Carlisle Cullen (smut)

There's just something about writing fics that start in a church, and I ain't sorry about it. I'm not religious nor do I believe in God, but somehow it always works out in these fics. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is trapped in a marriage with a cheating husband, while she is crushing on the handsome doctor that has promised her once that he'd always be there for her. God's timing is always right.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), cheating, religious connotations, very much fluffy

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x fem!reader (2.3k words)

“(Y/n)?” Her eyes fluttered open, hands still interlaced. She was kneeling, knees pressed into the red pillow of the wooden bench, praying to the God she had been calling out to for years. Golden eyes were staring down on her, making a smile tug on her lips. “Can I?”

“Please, sit.” Carlisle sat down next to her, eyes wandering to the wooden cross dangling over the altar. For a few seconds they were engulfed by silence, caught up in their thoughts. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.”

“I rarely come here, but every now and then I feel myself pulled closer. My father was a pastor, I think I never quite got rid of my belief.” His words were nothing more than whispers, spoken into the empty church as if God himself was listening in on their conversation. She could tell that he was plagued by something, just like she was, hoping that the answers they were looking for would come their way. 

“I get it, this place certainly holds a special place in my heart, maybe it’s the quietness it offers.” A sad smile was shot his way, breath caught in her lungs as (y/n) found Carlisle already looking at her. His hand found her knee, squeezing just enough to wordlessly express that he’d listen to whatever she may feel like sharing. “You know,” she swallowed, shaking her head to fight through the sadness tightening up her throat. “It’s not easy, it feels like I keep and keep on trying, but he doesn’t care. I think he’s cheating, at least that’s what the sickly-sweet smell of perfume sticking to his clothes tells me.”

(Y/n) had been trapped in her marriage for years, married to a man that had lost his interest in her and the life they were once sharing months ago. But even though he clearly kept her around to make his life easier, she didn’t find the strength to pull away, unable to snap apart the last strings he was holding in his fingers, guiding her like a puppet. 

“I told you once, if you ever need my help, I’ll be right there for you. My family would welcome you with open arms.” Carlisle squeezed her legs one more time before he tried to pull his hand away, though stopped by (y/n)’s own hand finding his, slowly interlacing their fingers.

There always had been something keeping the two connected, ever since she had crossed paths with Carlisle at the hospital, grateful for the doctor that had stitched up her wound from tripping on a hike. From that very moment on, he had been on her mind, her own safe haven she’d disappear to when things got too rough, imagining her life by his side. Nothing more than harmless dreams she kept clinging to, desperate for something good.

“I,” a shaky breath was exhaled by (y/n), eyes set on their hands. “I wouldn’t be able to go back, and I don’t think that’s a risk I’m willing to take just yet.” 

Carlisle pondered over (y/n)‘s words for a few moments before he slowly let go of her hand, rising from his position to turn towards her. He stared down on her for a second before his cold hand found her warm cheek, lips meeting her forehead to murmur a small, “I’ll be there, whenever you want me to.” And with a sad smile tugging on her lips, (y/n) watched the tall man leave the church. 

“God, I’m begging you, give me a sign.”

…

It took five days for the sign to appear - at least for something (y/n) interpreted as a sign. It was a rainy evening, she had been sitting on her sofa, eyes set on her watch. The seconds kept fading by, minutes slowly turning into an hour. Just this morning her husband had promised her a night out, murmuring something about “wanting to work on our marriage”, words that have left (y/n)‘s heart jumping in excitement. Excitement that has now turned into sadness, a tiring sadness that was slowly pulling her under. 

She could only guess that he was with the woman he had been seeing behind her back for the past months. A sign she had been waiting for, deep down praying that God, or whoever was listening to her prayers, would finally give her the push she needed. 

With a sigh rolling off her tongue, (y/n) rose from her position, making her way into her bedroom to start packing her clothes into a bag, at least enough clothes that would help her survive for the next few days. She had been scared of the pain that would cling to her once she found herself facing this very situation, and yet the pain didn’t come, instead a soaring wave of anger was clashing through her system, forcing her to make her way out of the dark house, starting her car to make it towards her destination.

The rain made it harder for her to see, accompanied by the thick darkness that engulfed her. From afar (y/n) could take in the expensive mansion, the light flooding through it and the windows giving off a beautiful view into the forest. She could only hope that he was home, and that he’d actually stick to his promise and welcome her. 

(Y/n) parked her car in front of the mansion, eyes barely able to take in her surroundings, deeply inhaling before she ripped open the door, racing up the stairs to the entrance. Trembling hands knocked on the wood, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, hoping that he’d open the door soon. 

“(Y/n)?” Carlisle stared at her with a smile tugging on his lips, welcoming her with his hand finding the small of her back. She was dripping, clothes soaked through and sticking to her limbs, and yet she couldn’t help but chuckle, eyes not daring to part from his.

“I’m sorry it took me this long, but I finally had enough.” He studied her for a few moments, not able to bite down his smile as he squeezed her side. Carlisle guided her upstairs with a soft “Let’s get you warmed up” rolling off his tongue, not daring to part from her. Wordlessly (y/n) followed him through the house she had been in numerous times before, spending her afternoons with the doctor she had fallen for months ago, wanting to be close to him at any given chance. 

“You can take a shower if you want, I’ll make you some tea.” They were standing in his bedroom, eyes not able to break contact just yet. A small nod was the only reply she could give him, unable to speak up due to her racing heart and her dry mouth. Carlisle turned from her, laying out some dry clothes of his before he tried to leave the room, held back by the whisper of his name.

(Y/n) took a step closer, and another, till she came to rest right in front of him. For a few seconds they were engulfed by silence, trapped in the crackling atmosphere that left her skin tingling. Perhaps it was God giving her the push she needed, perhaps it was the rush of the moment she couldn’t escape from, but perhaps it was simply the comfortableness Carlisle emanated. She shifted her weight onto her toes, eyes flickering down to his lips before she softly kissed him, testing the waters. 

Carlisle immediately drew her in, hands finding her waist to keep her in place. His cold lips perfectly moved in sync with hers, not daring to part as they got lost in the new sensation. No longer did (y/n) care about the cold sticking to her limbs, no longer did she worry about the soaked through clothes of hers. 

His cold hand cupped her cheek, thumb stroking her skin before he slowly parted from her, smiling at the heavily breathing woman in front of him, “Get in the shower, I’ll wait downstairs for you.” And with one last kiss pressed against her lips, he left (y/n) with her racing thoughts alone. 

…

“You know, I begged Him for a sign, anything that would finally wake me up from the nightmare I was trapped in.” Her soft voice echoed through the living room, eyes set on the dark forest, body pressed against Carlisle’s chest. His fingers danced up and down her arm, smiling at the woman he had finally managed to lure closer, not wanting to part from her and the life they’ll live ever again. 

“Maybe it’s selfish of me, but I’ve begged for a long time that you’d find your way to me. Deep down I knew I’d eventually get lucky, if one can call this luck.” She turned her head towards the doctor, shooting him a smile before she kissed him. Her hands found his chest, gasping against his cold lips as he pulled her into his lap. (Y/n)’s heart was pounding in her chest, wanting to reach out to his, too oblivious for her own good, not understanding that his heart hadn’t been pumping any blood for the past centuries. 

“We have all the time this world can offer, we don’t have to rush anything.” Carlisle’s caring words left her smiling, chuckling against his lips. Fuck, it felt like a dream, finally able to love the man she had been secretly longing for for longer than she’d like to admit. 

“I’ve waited too long for this, I don’t want to waste another second without being touched by you.” A squeal left (y/n) as Carlisle rose to his feet, with her legs slung around his waist and her arms wrapped around his neck. He carried her up to his bedroom, grateful for the empty mansion, knowing that he wouldn’t let her leave the room for the upcoming hours. 

“If you ever want me to stop, tell me, please.” His calming words coaxed a whimper out of (y/n), not used to be treated like this. She found herself pressed against his mattress, grateful that she had decided against wearing his sweatpants, only wearing her panties and the dark shirt of his. Carlisle’s hands danced up her legs, spreading her thighs for his curious eyes, lips finding her soft skin, sucking marks into her inner thighs. The gasps of hers urged him on, smirking against (y/n)’s lips as he kissed his way higher and higher, coming to face with her soaked through panties. 

“Look at you. So ready for me, my pretty girl.” Carlisle’s murmurs coaxed a deep moan out of her, hands fisting the fabric of his blanket, gasping as he pulled her panties down her legs, allowing the cold air to wrap itself around her trembling body. He was marvelling at her, soaking in this very moment, praying that he won’t ever forget about this. 

“Please, don’t tease.” (Y/n)’s desperate words left him chuckling, giving in with his mouth finding her core, tongue pressed flat against her arousal covered folds. Her taste left him moaning, already high on her, savouring every drop he was offered. Carlisle’s nimble fingers found her clit, circling the bundle of nerves as if they had done this numerous times before. She was dripping for him, making it easy for the tall doctor to brush through her folds over and over again, teasing her with the rough surface of his tongue. 

She was clenching around nothing, needing to feel more, wanting to be stuffed by him. It seemed like Carlisle managed to pick up on her body’s needs without (y/n) speaking up, fingers pushing into her to stretch her walls. The whimper that left (y/n) at the sudden intrusion coaxed a groan out of Carlisle, sound vibrating on her warm skin. 

He curled his fingers, making her arch her back off the mattress, not used to being pushed towards the edge this quickly. Carlisle picked up the rhythm of his movements, eyes watching her pleasure-drunken features, how she pierced her teeth into her lower lip, how she had her eyes squeezed shut. 

“God, I’m so close.” (Y/n)’s voice trembled, tightening her grip on his blanket to try and stop herself from giving in right there and then. She clearly struggled to hold back, choking on her gasps as if she was drowning and he was the salty water filling her lungs, forcing her to let go of the strength lingering in her muscles. 

“Cum for me, let go, darling.” Carlisle sucked on her bundle of nerves, giving her the final push with his fingertips pressed against her swollen spot. His name spluttered from her lips like a waterfall cascading down her chin, filling the room like a song echoing through the night. She was trembling, limbs quivering against the mattress, not able to hold still as the powerful sensation filled her body. 

“Christ, I’ve never felt like this before.” Her confession left him smiling, slowly letting go of (y/n) to move up her body, lips meeting hers. She could taste herself on his lips and tongue, deepening the kiss with her tired eyes falling shut and her weak hands tugging on his golden roots. Carlisle wrapped her in his arms, pulling (y/n) against his chest to allow her to rest, wordlessly communicating that he’d be right there to protect her.

[run-little-hero]

Hey i have a good idea for a prompt: Supervillain captures hero and tortures them for months on end and suddenly gets bored of (torturing) them and decides to order villain to get rid of them. Villain isn't aware that it was hero he was told to kill until he entered the cell where hero was and right as he entered he immediately recognized hero who was filled with bruises,burns,wounds,cuts and dried up blood. Though villain for some reason couldn't force themselves to kill hero and just stands there for who knows how long contemplating on what he should do. Villain doesn't want to hurt hero and was about to try and help them until supervillain suddenly showed up. (Sorry if this is long hehe,im excited to see how you'll write it!)

TW // Abuse, blood, torture

“Just take care of it,” huffs Supervillain. “I don’t care how you do it, simply see to it that the issue is resolved.���

Villain shudders at the piercing apathy in their voice. Of course, he’s been in his position for years now. He doesn’t need to imagine the weight of a knife in his hand, or the sound of it slicing into flesh, martyring some sad sap of a hero. These instances, though few and far between, present Villain with an internal moral debate—a fleeting sense of pity over a guilt-ridden conscious. He grieves his fallen enemies, his almost-acquaintances, the way one might mourn the passing of a friend’s distant relative. Or a childhood classmate in a handful of nearly-forgotten memories.

This is not to say Villain considers himself a bad person. Certainly not compared to the likes of Supervillain, who fleets between candidates for torture like a child choosing their favorite toy for the day. But he’ll carry out the deed regardless, because like the hero tied up in one of Supervillain’s private cells, he’s been dealt his lot. And the only thing he can do is live with it.

“Of course,” he replies. “But are you sure you want to go through with it now? They might have more information than they’re letting-“

“They don’t,” Supervillain cuts in. “And if they do, I’m fed up with trying to figure it out. We’ll catch another one, one that’s easier to break. Now please, carry out my order and break their neck.” They smile, and Villain hears the phantom sound of bones snapping. “I need your cooperation with this, Villain. You’re the only one I trust to be discreet.”

Villain nods. “I understand. I’ll go right now.”

The abandoned cellblock currently functioning as Supervillain’s private prison is in disrepair, to say the least. Peeling paint, rusty bars, and dirt covered floors make it seem more suited to be a haunted attraction. Considering Supervillain’s anal personality, Villain is surprised his boss can stand to frequent the place so often.

An associate at the door leads Villain to a wing marked ‘Solitary.’ “The one you want’s in cell number eight,” Villain recounts the words as his eyes flit between doors. And nearing the end of the hall, he spies his target. He rolls up his sleeves, unlocks the door, and enters.

The first thing Villain can comprehend is the retched smell. It stings his eyes, and the thought pops into his head that he might not need to execute this hero after all—simply dispose of the body. But the second thing he can make out is a shivering figure curled up in a corner of the cell, and when he flips on the lights he sees that the hero is indeed, alive and conscious.

The third thing Villain comprehends is the singular thought that slaying this hero would be mercy. They are malnourished, battered, and bruised in so many places that Villain can hardly tell who they are, if he ever knew them at all. Swollen features distort their face. Dry blood and grime cover every inch of their clothes and skin. They wheeze in pain with each breath. But they have undoubtedly survived the torture. They’ve bested Supervillain—they’ve refused to give in. And to Villain, that is a victory for this poor hero.

He walks closer, kneels down in front of this victim. Slowly, their face rises to meet Villain’s gaze, and in an instant his world is flipped on its axis. There’s recognition, beneath the wounded flesh and bone, Villain knows this hero’s soul. And suddenly, he feels every bruise, burn, gash, and cut that covers Hero’s skin as if they were his own. That minute sense of pity has amplified into a mountainous weight of guilt. He can’t breathe, seeing that Hero can. How could they be here? The one hero he’s fought so many times, who he thought was dead after months of lost contact? The one person Villain ever dared to rely on?

A tear runs down Hero’s cheek. “Villain…” They croak.

He can’t do it. He stands, turns, stops. He has to think. If he carries out the order, how could he assuage the guilt? How could he live with this? He can’t fathom a world. It was difficult enough to come to terms with Hero’s disappearance. After years of a life in the shadows, without so much as a friend to lean on, Villain can’t let Hero slip away. Not again.

He’ll be on the run. There’s no beating Supervillain, he knows that. He turns and looks down into Hero’s glossy eyes. They’re staring up at Villain, waiting for him to say something. And Villain, standing in the center of the filthy, oppressive prison cell, is overcome with the strangest sensation of hope. If Hero has lasted this long, perhaps there is a way to escape. Maybe luck will be on their side, just as it’s led them back to each other in this moment. Was it such a difficult notion to entertain?

Villain kneels beside Hero, taking their hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“Villain.” Their tears continue to fall. “I missed you.”

Connected in so many ways, Villain responds with a sob of his own. “I’ll get you out of here. I promise.”

He embraces Hero in a second, preparing to whisk them away. But just as Villain feels a pair of fragile arms wrap around his neck, he sees Hero’s frightened gaze peering at something behind him.

A cold, creeping shiver runs up his spine. His heart stops when he hears, in a most unmistakable voice: “Now Villain, what was it I told you about cooperation?”

—

snippet #4

[elliemarchetti]

Eris Week Day 6: AU/Retellings

Inspired by one of @foxcort’s unhinged prompts because I couldn’t resist although I’m not totally out of my writing/Tumblr hiatus yet. Hope my contribution to @erisweekofficial will still be appreciated even if it’s in Cassian’s POV.

Disclaimer: I know some of you will see this more as Cassian's self-pitying account of an event that highlights his inadequacy as a mate, but in my eyes it's an excerpt of the happy life that awaits Eris and Nesta once her contacts with the Night Court will be reduced to a minimum, only from the point of view of someone who will remain in the past. Still, and for this I turn to the admins of Eris Week, if you find it inadequate for any reason you have every right not to reblog it and I won't bear you any grudge. You guys are amazing, and when my life will be a little more normal I can't wait to read everything that's been written and show some love to all the wonderful fanarts I'm sure the artists have made.

Plot: The Lord of Bloodshed is having the worst time of his life. The heir of Autumn can’t really say the same. This is the famous scene at the Court of Nightmares reimagined with a totally different plot for the whole last book so if it doesn’t really make sense, I’m sorry.

Rating: Explicit

Words: 1529

When the next song began, its notes lighter, the steps easier than the ones they had just engaged in, Nesta didn’t hesitate to take Eris’s hand. She seemed eager, like her partner wasn’t the monster they all told her about but just a good dancer who instinctively knew her body screamed to do those extra, solo turns that had catalysed the attention of the whole room. Cassian realized he wouldn’t have let her go, too worried about the impractical design of her dress, too apprehensive she was drunk on the music and not paying enough attention to her surroundings to succeed.  If he had been in Eris’s place, he would’ve scolded her by the end of the music, dragging her off the dancefloor, while the heir of Autumn studied her with his amber eyes as they chatted amiably, chuckles audible here and there. The General couldn’t hear everything they said, but as they got closer he caught a few scraps, words that made the blood in his veins boil.

“… I didn’t see this side of you…”

He wasn’t smiling, but she met his stare anyway as she responded, suave and flirty. She never spoke to Cassian in that tone, always composed, almost defensive, in the rare occasions their topic hadn’t revolved around training or the thousand obligations they were subjected to due to their roles. Maybe it was because he had never spun her, never murmured sweet nothings in her ear, sentences so refined her mouth twitched to one side. Unable to witness more, he turned to Mor, who watched from beside Feyre and Rhys, her face neutral and aloof. He couldn’t imagine how she was feeling, knowing she was the one who taught Nesta those steps.

“Are you inquiring after my eligibility?” Cassian heard Eris joke, his sharp smile turning into a full-on silky laugh at her reply. As it often happened, he felt inadequate in his vulgarity, in his lack of grace. A brute, as the eldest of the Vanserras liked to define him. There was no room for someone like him by the side of a female capable of carrying a political meeting on her inexperienced shoulders and tear someone’s head from their neck in the same week. That duality, the savage rage and silver fire mixed with a beauty able to bring kings to their knees was too much for him, no matter how many times he had claimed her as his, yet his feet moved instinctively, and he reached the pair at the very end of the waltz, trying to ignore how his tapered fingers had descended into the hollow of her bare back or how her cheeks were flushed.

“Move,” Cassian said coldly, halting their private moment. He stood before them amid the sea of people cradled in black, just another piece of Night, until Eris stared at him down his straight nose, ignoring the burning violence oozing from the warrior’s hazel eyes.

“Go sit at your master’s feet, dog,” he hissed, teeth bared, but Nesta was quick to interject, accepting her mates unspoken offer.

“We’ll play later, Nesta Archeron,” the fireling retorted, putting too much emphasis on her last name for Cassian’s liking, before aiming for the dais. For an instant, really just the time of the song, the General deluded himself that he had won, that he could somehow be the knight in shining armour of the story, the hero who saves the princess from the villain and thus obtains her hand and eternal, unconditional love. Those empty illusions were shattered when he followed her into the dark and suffocating corridors of the Court of Nightmares, when he watched her slender figure enter the chamber assigned to Eris for the duration of his visit, her steps cautious and silent as a cat’s. She barely glanced at the slightly ajar door, too focused on her lover’s eager embrace, and Cassian clenched his jaw at the portrait of carefree happiness.

“You’re tickling me!” she giggled as the snake peppered her neck with light kisses, the sound like a harp strumming high and sweet. From his hiding spot, Cassian saw his nemesis’ half-smile widen as he hooked a finger under one of her dress’ straps and pulled, flooding him with pounding, vibrating jealousy. He had to remind himself to breathe when the silk slid down her chest, briefly exposing one of her breasts before Eris could sweep her to the bed, the impalpable skirt mostly gathered between her parted legs, firmly clutched around his waist. As he feasted on her exposed skin, her body went loose and taunt in so many different places Cassian didn’t know where to focus: she was bent and shaped and directed by her lover, her widened pupils hiding under long lashes thanks to the skill of the fingertips massaging her core. The ghosts of nearly faded love bites revealed themselves on the lower part of her ass as she arched her back in ecstasy and Cassian’s face went slack. It wasn’t him who left those marks on her, the memory of the sleepless night spent together forever imprinted in his memory, so she could only have had other partners, or maybe she had previously entertained herself between Eris’ sheets, protocol be damned. The matter quickly slipped out of his mind when the smell of her arousal flowed and swam around him, clouding his senses as she melted under someone else’s touch. There wasn’t enough space inside him, not in his mind or his heart, for what the situation made him feel, he just knew he was hard under his trousers, his body ready to honour and worship someone he had been unable to keep up with when he had the chance.

He was about to leave to deal with his shame when their gazes met. He would have expected those merciless and cold eyes to pin him to the spot, he supposed she would scream in anger, or perhaps warn Eris with quiet disdain that some beast beneath them was spying on their tryst, but instead her irises glimmered and she let out a moan, her flawless red lips, sin personified, parted to draw a likewise perfect O. As if awakened by that sound, her lover crawled back to her mouth, his hands busy undoing his pompous clothing. Cassian knew what was about to happen, he had watched and performed this dance for centuries, in the frenzy of inexperienced youth and in the blind search for solace when the need was too much. He had fucked females on all fours like some kind of wild animal, knees hurting on marble floors and feet losing their grips in the mud, in a foolish attempt to fill the void left by Nesta, but no one showed on their features the pure, feral delight that crashed on his mate’s face when Eris entered her all at once, like a conqueror of death, glowing as he devoured moonlit skin and shared heartbeats. Between one fast thrust and the next, he lifted Nesta’s arms above her head, their matching rings glinting as if lit by an inner fire. He guided her through the orgasm with ease and they came together, a rising cacophony of panting and groaning.

“I hope you’re with child,” he whispered, his words so shocking they made Cassian audibly gasp. There was no way he hadn’t heard the sound, even lost in his unchecked, dark joy, yet he decided to ignore it.

"Why so?" she murmured seductively, gleaming with wanton desire as she drank in his expression, whatever it was. She didn’t seem to object the idea, nor she sounded eager to postpone it as long as she could.

“It would give us an excuse to speed up the organization of this wedding. I know my father wants it to exude power, to convey all the strength of our family, and my mother wishes for every detail to be perfect, but I’m growing tired of this façade,” he replied honestly, then lovingly erased a smudge of kohl from the corner of her left eye, a remark of the familiarity they shouldn’t have had yet.

“She has no daughters and I have no mother,” she pointed out, amazing Cassian with the nonchalance she used to address her traumatic past. “Let her have fun.”

“I know, and I will never show even a hint of displeasure when she will inevitably take you away for the whole day to pick the best party favours and select the optimal spot to best showcase the sheer magnitude of the orchestra you so wisely selected, but the only thing I aspire to is to finally be able to get away from the intrigues and the backstabbing for a while, to travel wherever we want and show you all the wonders Prythian and the Continent has to offer,” he confessed, and Nesta kissed him again, dangling her love and triumph in Cassian’s face, a silent dismissal to whatever his role had been in her night.

Slowly, the fearsome Lord of Bloodshed retreated in the shadow, engulfed in a cocoon of grief and rage at the Mother’s mistake, the sound of his shattering heart deafening in his eardrums.

[captinamericashusband]

The Love Letter | Steve Rogers/Captain America x Male!Reader

A/N: Another Steve Rogers fanfic because he is a cutie. This one is way shorter than my first fic and not the best writing I've done admittedly. Anyways, enjoy!

P.S. Stream Short n' Sweet by Sabrina Carpenter 💋

The Love Letter

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Y/N, too afraid to verbally confess his feelings for Steve, gives him a love letter instead

Warnings: Sad

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

Natasha stared bewildered at Y/N, aggressively punching the boxing dummy in the team's training room. With each continuous whack, growing strength with each successive hit, the dent in the dummy's torso grew larger. Natasha observed that he only acted this vehemently if something was bothering him. The last time this occurred was after a botched mission that resulted in numerous accidental deaths and tonnes of paperwork. As Y/N began winding down from his strenuous training, Natasha approached him, already having a slight idea for the cause of his trouble.

“It’s Steve isn’t it?” she abruptly asked. 

Y/N glanced towards her with a questioning look. “I’m sorry?”

“You like him, but you’re too scared to tell him.”

Y/N stared at her, trying to maintain a look that conveyed he was completely unsure as to what she was on about. However, he soon cracked under the pressure of her intense piercing gaze and gave her a resigned look. Sighing, he said, “Was I that obvious?”

"Y/N, we all see the way you ogle him." Y/N's jaw slightly clenched at his obliviousness to his obvious crushing. "The whole team knows, and I wouldn't be surprised if Steve himself did too."

Y/N let out a frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair. He always hated Natasha’s cunning observational skills. But he was aware this time his long-term crush was exposed at his fault. “I just don’t know how to tell him. I mean, what if he doesn’t feel the same?”

Natasha lightly placed her hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You’re not going to ruin anything by telling him. There’s nothing wrong with being honest. Plus, there could be the chance he likes you also.”

Y/N’s head shook slightly. “I’m not sure how to tell him without completely embarrassing myself in front of him.”

Natasha’s expression turned deep with thought. Then, the metaphorical light bulb lit up in her head. "Maybe you should write him a letter. That way nothing you’ll say will be misconstrued. It's the most objective way to say your feelings for him, Y/N."

Y/N glanced towards Natasha, unaware if she was serious or saying everything in jest. "Wouldn't it be easier if I sent him a text message?"

Natasha shook her head. "Letters are more romantic. Plus, Steve is old-fashioned. I'm sure he'd appreciate it more than some lacklustre text."

As Natasha left the training grounds, Y/N began thinking deeply about her suggestion. He never imagined telling Steve about his feelings, let alone confessing through a handwritten letter. The worse that could occur, he thought, was that Steve would reject him and the entire trajectory of any friendship they had would completely change beyond recognition. However, the idea of Steve being whisked away by anyone else was enough to fill him with dread. He couldn't have a repeat of his emotions during Steve's brief fling with Sharon Carter. Tear-dampened tissues filled his room the week he heard the news – he reached a new low during that time. After his shower in the gym's adjacent locker room, Y/N began devising what he would say and how exactly he would say it.

Walking back to his room, Y/N made a brief detour to one of Tony's several printers scattered around the compound to grab several sheets of paper. He was already anticipating the inevitable drafts that would end up in his garbage bin. As he sat on his desk, cracking his knuckles before putting pen to paper, he hoped whatever monstrosity he would conjure would convey his feelings in a way that Steve would fully reciprocate them.

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

After three hours and several tossed crumpled balls of paper in his garbage, Y/N finally created what he thought was the best thing he had ever written. Skimming through it again, he started thinking otherwise and that it was actually really bad. The letter read:

Steve,

I've been thinking a lot lately, and I finally decided I needed to air it out. Natasha suggested writing you a letter, and honestly, I was hesitant at first. But the more I considered it, I realised it was the only suitable option for this situation. I know you're not the type for overly grand gestures, so I'll keep it simple.

Ever since we met, I've been admiring you. Not just for the reason that you're Captain America, but also for what I've seen in who you are as a person. Your kindness, bravery, strength, and dedication amongst many more of your qualities are things I've come to deeply respect. Over time, these feelings I felt for you have grown from something more than admiration – something I never expected.

I've tried to hide it, but I'm not sure I can anymore. I like you, Steve. I really like you a lot, as more than a friend. I know you've been through a lot, so I don't want any of this to complicate you any further. I just needed to tell you how I feel. I value the friendship we have, and I don't want this to negatively change that.

I understand if you don't feel the same way. If you'd prefer it, we could both pretend I never wrote you this. But if there is a chance you feel the same, maybe we could both see where this goes. No pressure, no expectations – just honesty.

Y/N

After rereading it for the fifth time, Y/N decided this was the best it would get. If Steve hated it, then so be it. Y/N put the letter in a sleek dark brown envelope from a stationary set he bought earlier from a high-end arts and crafts store. Since it was for Steve, he had splurged on whatever he could in hopes it would convey the seriousness of his feelings.

As Y/N walked towards Steve’s room, a feeling of severe anxiety washed over him, causing him to fidget with the letter between his fingers. The outcomes of the letter-sending were so polar that he wasn’t sure if his feelings were worth the chance. On one hand, Steve would feel the same and both would live happily ever after. On the other, Steve would downright reject him, their friendship would be destroyed, and the awkwardness would find a way to infiltrate its way into the team, getting in the way of their world-saving. 

Steve’s door came into view, and the urge to turn around and leave became stronger for Y/N. Before Y/N could back down, he heard footsteps descending the hallway’s corner. After quickly slipping the letter under the door frame, Y/N ran in the opposite direction. Whatever was to ensue after was up in the hands of whichever deity was out there.

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

The team assembled for dinner shortly after Y/N’s letter made it to Steve’s room. As he sat in his designated spot beside Natasha, his hands started becoming clammy, and his head became nauseous with worrying thoughts. Steve has yet to arrive at the table. Coughing lightly, Y/N turned towards Natasha. 

“I did it, Nat.” Y/N quivered softly. 

“Did what, Y/N/N?” She said in between her chewing.

“I sent him the letter. Earlier this evening, I sent him the letter. God, I can’t believe I listened to you.”

Natasha turned her head, eyes wide in disbelief. Before she could respond, Steve walked into the dining room. The team greeted him, including Y/N whose voice wavered slightly upon seeing the man he so recently confessed his feelings for. Steve’s eyes wandered around the table until they stopped on Y/N. The two looked at each other, and Y/N’s stomach churned. He tried to read Steve’s expression, but it was indistinguishable. As his heart pounded, his hands trembled under the table. 

Natasha slightly nudged Y/N with her elbow. “Relax, Y/NN. Just see how he acts.”

Y/N nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. As Steve approached the table, he pulled the chair directly in front of Y/N, sitting down with a small smile. “Hey, everyone,” Steve greeted, his voice soft and supple, smiling brightly at the team. 

Y/N managed to contort a crooked smile in return. “Hi, Steve.” His voice wavered once again and his cheeks blushed. He looked down towards his plate in hopes no one noticed.

As the team continued with their conversation – Bruce and Tony bantering about lab tech, Thor sharing a story about Asgard, and Clint making sarcastic remarks near the table’s end – Y/N kept glancing towards. Steve looked relaxed, but every so often, his eyes would also meet Y/N’s, and Y/N’s stomach would be sent into a spiral of front flips. 

At one point, Steve met Y/N’s gaze and held it for longer than usual. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. He knew at that point that Steve must have read the letter. There was no other reason for the glances they shared with each other, and the slight glint of something in Steve’s eyes. He could already sense the inevitable conversation Steve was about to confront him with in the not-so-distant future.

Dinner continued, and eventually, the team started to disperse. As for Y/N, his heart sank as he remembered it was his turn to wash the dishes today. Today of all days. Even more troubling, Steve had volunteered behind to help with cleaning. Y/N already knew where this was going to lead. With one last glance at Natasha who offered him a reassuring smile, it was just Y/N and Steve left together.

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

The kitchen was dead silent as the two men cleared the table, the clinking of dishes and the sound of running water from the sink being the only interruption. Y/N could feel Steve’s presence beside him – comforting and warm, but tonight it felt different. Heavy. He couldn’t conjure the courage to look at him, instead focusing on aggressively rubbing a stubborn stain on one of the plates.

Finally, after what like an eternity, Steve finally broke the silence. “Y/N,” he said, his voice carrying a certain softness that made Y/N’s heart beat faster. “About the letter…”

Y/N froze, squeezing the sponge in his hand hard. He knew this was bound to happen, but hearing Steve’s voice mention his letter still made him incredibly nervous. Slowly, he turned towards Steve, ready for whatever he was about to be hit with. “Yeah?” he managed to whisper, his voice barely managing to make it above a whisper.

Steve fully turned towards Y/N, setting down the dish he was currently drying and meeting his eyes. His expression was serious, and his blue eyes were holding a feeling Y/N couldn’t decipher – nervousness, maybe, or regret. “I read it,” he said quietly. “And I want you to know that I’m honoured that you trust me enough to share your feelings with me. I really am.”

Y/N’s heart clenched. He felt the impending doom through Steve’s tone. Y/N nodded slowly, attempting to keep his emotions in check. “But…?”

Steve took a deep breath, he turned away briefly before meeting Y/N’s eyes again. “But I don’t feel the same way,” he said, voice firm but soft. “I care about you a lot, Y/N, as a friend. I value our friendship and I don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t see you the same way as you see me.”

Y/N’s felt his heart shatter, the pieces were spiralling into a million jagged edges. The pain was worse than anything he experienced. It felt worse than any gunshot or stab wound he ever endured. “I understand,” he said. It was evident he was trying to hold back tears. “I just thought… maybe…”

Steve’s hand hovered above Y/N’s. He hesitated before retracting it, unsure if Y/N wanted to be touched or not. “I really am sorry, Y/N. I don’t want to make this awkward between us. I value our friendship too much for that.”

Y/N could only nod again. His chest swelled with a numbing feeling. He then realised what the glint was in Steve’s eyes. It was pity. “Yeah, no I totally understand,” he muttered. He stared at the soapy water. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I shouldn’t have said anything. It was stupid – I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Steve said gently. “It was not stupid at all. You have every right to express your feelings. I’m just sorry I couldn’t give you the answer you were looking for, Y/N.”

Y/N could feel the tears pooling near the ducts of his eyes. The weight of the rejection fully settled on his shoulders. “Yeah well…thank you for being honest. I appreciate it, I guess,” he whispered, turning back to the dishes to hide the tears now streaming down his cheeks. He scrubbed at the plates more force than necessary, trying to channel to pain he was feeling towards his hands. 

Steve hesitated. It was clear he wanted to say more, but he could tell Y/N wanted him to leave. “I really am sorry, Y/N.”

Y/N couldn’t trust himself to speak again, afraid his voice would hint at the tears leaving his eyes. After a brief moment of silence, he could hear Steve’s footsteps retracting from the kitchen.

When he was sure Steve was gone, Y/N let out a shaky breath before letting his tears fall freely. He gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles turning white in an attempt to hold himself together. But it was to no avail. He slid down to the floor, back against the kitchen sink. The pain was too raw to hold in. As he buried his head in his hands, he sobbed and prayed that no one would walk in and see his miserable self.

He was fully prepared for the possibility of rejection. But everything in him was hoping Steve would feel the same. That the future he envisioned for both of them together would become real somehow. The heartache he felt was unbearable, and each breath he took was a struggle as he attempted to calm himself down. Was he not good enough for Steve? Was he not attractive enough? Y/N started internally beating himself, trying to find the reason he wasn’t desirable for the only person he could ever want.    

Minutes passed, maybe hours; Y/N wasn’t sure. Eventually, the tears started slowing down and his breathing became more shallow. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand, taking a few shaky breaths before standing up. He knew he had to pick himself up and move on. But for now, Y/N could let himself wallow in his grief. 

As he walked back to his room, he couldn’t help but think if he could ever face Steve without breaking all over again. 

FIN

A/N: Sorry! Hope you enjoyed! Next one will be cute as fuck I didn't enjoy writing this one that much actually it didn't fill me with happy giddy feelings.

[love-lilly02]

LILLY PLS IM SUPER DOWN BAD FOR SOME TF141 DRABBLES RN

OK IDEA: HOW THEY SHOW THEIR AFFECTION/LOVE LANGUAGE 💥👊

KEEPING IT BROAD CAUSE I WANNA SEE YOU BE CREATIVE 🤭

MWAH DONT FEEL FORCED EITHER

— 🪿

RAAAA DUCK ANNON IS BACK‼️‼️‼️

i’m so sorry i didn’t see this by the way, i was cleaning😕😕

Anyways we’ll start off with Price, i think he’s definitely a words of affirmation person or gift giving. in the beginning he leaves you small things, a flower (yes, a singular flower.) with a letter saying it’s pretty like you, poems, treats hidden around your room. Once the two of you are together though he’s going all out. Flowers every week (he keeps one so he knows when it’s time to buy more), text messages with poems and paragraphs, date nights, shopping sprees. (emphasis on the shopping, you can look at something for too long and it’s in your apartment the next day.) i also don’t really see price as a touchy person, but he likes when you hold his hand or his arm (imagine period drama arm holding), ESPECIALLY around the boys.

Johnny next, this man is touchy to ALL hell. your on the counter? he’s got your ass. standing there doing ANYTHING? he’s around you, holding your waist, putting his chin on your shoulder, all of the above. In public he’s got your hand, your arm, your waist, any part of you he can grab. he’s also a flirter, to the BIGGEST extent, i mean this man will take one look at you and spew out so many compliments you think he’s got them pre written down. their also never the same compliments, ever. how he has so many you’ll never know. I don’t see him as a gifts person but if you express an intrest in certain things it will pop up from time to time.

Kyle is a bit tricky for me, because i don’t write him often. I think he’s a reassurance person, if you’re not feeling well he’s there or he’ll always say he loves you or something. Definitely someone who believes actions speak louder than words, which means everything in your house is getting done for you. dishes? he washed them an hour ago. trash needs taking out? oh don’t worry love, i got that. He just likes taking care of you, doesn’t really mind the busywork. And don’t you dare feel bad for it, he’s right there scolding you for it, saying that he wants to do those things, that he wants to help you. He’s definitely a clingy person, but not out in public. poor kid’s too shy for that, but at home he’s all over you. his favorite position is to lie with his head on your stomach, watching something on the telly while you read or scroll on your phone. definitely not because he falls asleep easier in that position.

Ghost is my favorite of them all. at first he just ignores you, i mean once this man realizes he has feelings you NEVER see him around😭 and then he gets over himself and somehow apologizes (how he got over himself, we’ll never know) and slowly starts going around you again, but that’s literally it. You don’t think anything else is wrong, wouldn’t even be able to tell something was different if it weren’t for all the people that started going missing. You complain about a co worker? their gone the next morning. some rookie is pissing you off? oddly enough he got deployed and killed in combat. you never understand it, especially when no one questions the disappearances or just where the people went. That’s how ghost loves you, by keeping you happy. Simon on the other hand, takes a much more direct approach with his love. Once ghost is done with his “i’ll kill you if you touch her” bs he’s confessing to you, buying you flowers for the first date (only then, for some reason?) taking you somewhere nice. The whole shabang for his pretty thing. He’s also a nicknames person, some of his favorite being “love, lovie, princess” and sometimes “thing” when you really make him mad. he’s just like kyle, shy in public but a fucking PUPPY at home. you try to get up in the morning, he’s got you trapped under him in seconds. you leave a room, he’s tailing after you, your cooking in the kitchen he’s right behind you, if you don’t yell at him to get off. it’s never suffocating, though. In public he’ll hold your waist or your hand, that’s about it.

i feel like i kind of got off topic at some points but those are hot takes off the top of my head🥳🥳 lmk if yall want an nsfw version

[everlasting-rainfall]

Hi I’m all caught in the manga and I just had to know , what are your thoughts/hcs on yandere gear 5 Luffy 👀 love to hear your thoughts (sorry if that was a spoiler it wasn’t my intention to spoil it for u )

Also hi hope your doing ok and happy holidays 💗🥰

🌸anon

Oh happy holidays to you too, Darling! I’ve been well if you don’t count the occasional crying breakdown here and there but I hope that you’re doing well too just without the breakdown crying part!

Also don’t worry, you didn’t spoil anything for me!

Anyways enough about me, I’m not gonna lie that I really like Luffy’s Gear 5th form like it’s absolutely terrifying but in a good way. I’ve actually been laughing occasionally about the idea of Gear 5 activating when Luffy was about to be eaten by the Sea King as a kid as I think that’s a bit funny like suddenly Gear 5 child!

Terrifying to imagine but also kinda funny if you think about the chaos that would ensure

Anywho before I get too far off track, let’s get into it!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

SPOILERS FOR GEAR 5, Kidnapping, Stalking, Near Destruction of an Island, Heavy Size Difference, NSFW at the bottom

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

So honestly with your request, let’s pretend that Luffy is always in Gear 5 mode as that will make this easier for me to write like there’s no such thing as turning it off now that he’s activated it

I feel like catching the attention of Monkey D. Luffy in the sense of him being a Yandere is already bad enough but what makes it worse is the idea that he can’t turn it off anymore and I feel like when it comes to this form, his emotions are amplified

The best example that I can give for what I mean is like if Luffy was already a Yandere then these tendencies have been amplified big time like if he’s willing to pick a fight with the World Government over Robin right now then now he’s willing to completely demolish anything that even vaguely threatens his crew now

Doesn’t even matter if it’s like he doesn’t actually know if said person wants to hurt his crew like let’s say that someone like knocks over Chopper while they’re running causing him to get hurt just a little bit. Unless the crew can convince him not to or manage to distract him then that person is done for

Also you’d think that dealing with Luffy raiding the fridge would be a pain in the ass now, yeah? It still is but if Luffy has any feelings buried deep down for some of his crewmates then Gear 5 has brought it up to the surface

So Luffy might be able to be distracted from raiding the fridge through a little something from Sanji like a kiss or something but that might result in Sanji having a hard time walking without a small limp for a good while afterwards but whatever keeps them from starving at sea

Chopper definitely gets Platonic Yandere’d to hell and back like he’s basically kind of acting like a dad, I’d say that you should probably check Luffy’s temperature as he’s actually being a semi responsible parent like telling him to eat healthy and not really allowing him to go off anywhere alone

As for if he had an S/O in this form like if you were dating Luffy before he awakened Gear 5? I’d recommend just honestly getting ready to never be out of his sight like you’re gonna get up to head to another room and he’s already getting up to follow you

He’ll be following you just about anywhere that he can and if I’m right then he’s much bigger in that form too, yeah? So let’s say that he can change his size and when he’s all big then chances are that if he doesn’t like what things look like then he’ll just pick you up and stuff you in his pocket for a while

What better way to keep you safe than to keep you right with him after all? Although even as much as you tell him that a battle with another pirate crew is not enough of a reason to shove you in his pocket, it’s not like he’s gonna listen

Much like with any Yandere too, don’t even think of attempting to escape as not only is he impossible to escape even without Gear 5 but now he can literally just lift the roof of any building that you’re hiding in and grab you like he’s playing with a dollhouse

I wouldn’t recommend at all turning yourself into the Marines to escape him either as that just sparks one hell of a frenzy, you thought that doing this sort of thing before Gear 5 was bad? You ain’t seen nothing yet…

If it wasn’t for the others then he would probably unintentionally destroy the whole damn island alongside the Marine base just to get you back especially if the Marines have roughed you up

You cant fight him either, that goes without saying so it’s really better to just do as the rest of the crew has and accept that this is your new life being watched over by an extremely possessive sun god who refuses to let anything happen to any of you…

I’d also recommend getting used to being in Luffy’s bed… Lord knows that when that man fucks you now, it’s gonna be a marathon that leaves you unable to think straight with legs so numb that you’re certain you’ll never regain feeling in them…

Honestly though imagine him being absolutely gigantic and playing with your body like you’re some kind of doll, imagine like laying in one of his hands while a single fingertip of his rubs at the area between your legs or he tries to give you oral but just winds up licking your whole body

It probably isn’t the worst thing but it’s not pleasant although let’s hope that he never wants to stick his dick in you while he’s big like this as you’ll be stretched to absolute hell and back… Like I legitimately think that you’d need either a wheelchair afterwards or a mobility aid for the rest of your life…

[kit-kat-katie]

one last time, for us

A/N: I'm late on my once-a-month upload, but I have the final chapter of Our Time for you to enjoy! ❤️ I loved writing this series, and I hope everyone enjoyed playing it!

TW: Canon-levels of violence and abuse, main character death, angst from beginning to end with a bit of a sweet side

Pairing: Finnick x GN! Reader (Romantic)

Summary: After the revelations that come from freeing the Victors in the Capitol, everything in your world comes crashing down. You have to find a way to fight through the present, even if it means trudging through memories of the past.

(<- Previous Part | Series Masterlist)

“Annie?” Your voice rings out among the waves that crash against the shore.

She mumbles something into her hair as you take a seat next to her.

“I find the waves to be relaxing, especially on nights like this.” You say before turning to Annie.

She bows her head in response while continuing to mutter to herself.

You realize that you’ve interrupted her moment of solace - a moment where her mind is silent, and peace settles over her whole being.

“I’m sorry. I’m bothering you, aren’t I?”

You go to stand up, only for Annie to stop you with a hand on your arm.

“Stay. Please stay.” Her eyes are distant as she looks at you.

“Of course.” You sit back down and silently stare at the waves with Annie.

That would be the last conversation you would ever have with her.

~

You didn’t get out of bed for two days. Better than Finnick, who lasted three days in bed.

To say that morale was damper in District 13 would be an understatement. When you left your bed, everyone had their heads held low as you passed them. 

You had gotten back the victors that were captured, but what else did you lose? The hope that you once had for your fellow District 4 victors?

Johanna was irreversibly changed - of course she was, days upon days of torture would do that to you - but it felt like she was the only person you could talk to.

“I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever cared about, so President Snow,” She says in a mocking tone, “hurt the only person I have left - myself.”

“I couldn’t imagine-” You start as she shakes her head and sits up in bed.

“-Don’t waste your breath, Sunny. I don’t need your empathy, neither does Katniss.” Johanna scoffs. 

“What do we do now?”

“We wait, we prepare, and then we give them hell.”

~

Mags smiles as you enter her home in the Victors’ Village. She offers you a baked treat that you gladly take.

You follow her eyes to the window, where she stares at Finnick and Annie talking outside.

“Thank you for inviting me inside of your home. I could use the distraction.”

Mags turns away and lightly grabs your shoulder.

“No, I’m alright, I’ve just been having nightmares again. Nothing I can’t deal with.” You try to give a convincing smile, but it doesn’t persuade Mags in the slightest.

She gently guides you to her dining room as you take a seat in one of her chairs. She sits opposite of you as you place your hands on the table.

“It’s the same nightmares as usual, about the ones I…” You pause, before remembering a mentor’s advice, “killed. But I didn’t have a choice, and I didn’t want to-”

Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, but you quickly bat them away with a weak smile.

“There’s nothing I can change about that now. I can only face the present and hope that the future will be better.”

Mags reaches over and grabs your arm as an undistinguishable expression falls onto her face.

As you look into her eyes, you can tell what she’s feeling.

Pride. Hope. Anticipation.

And a spark, the tiniest spark, of happiness.

~

“I’m not hungry.” Katniss pushes the plate of food away from you as you sigh.

“I know you don’t want to deal with me, I get it, but Plutarch and Haymitch made me do this. It’s easier for both of us if you eat, or at least, pretend to.” You gruffly say as she looks at you in surprise.

“What happened to Sunny?” She asks you.

“They got a harsh reminder of where we are, and what we’ve done.” You solemnly say as you hold the spoon out for her to grab. “Eat. Please.”

You’re expecting more of a fight, but she grabs the spoon and starts eating the food in front of her.

You smile, a rarity for these days. For once, you feel in control of your destiny, as if you have a chance to impact things again.

Just a moment, before things spiral out of your control.

~

“You should go.” You struggle to put your knee brace on before Finnick comes to your aid.

“You need me here, and I can’t leave you, not after-”

“-I can handle myself, despite what it looks like.” You watch as Finnick finishes putting on the brace. “They need fighters, like you.”

“What about you, Sunny?” He tilts his head at you as you lean back in the chair.

“My fighting days are over. The best thing I can do for the revolution is stay hopeful and help where I can.” You extend your hand, which Finnick grabs. “I’ll be fine. I should be worried about you, instead of the other way around.”

Silence engulfs you both as you pull his hand to your lips and give it a quick kiss.

“I can see how much you need this. You stare longingly at the tridents that Beetee has made, just as you did when we were in District Four.”

Finnick smiles as he takes his other hand and grabs your arm.

“You noticed that?”

“Of course I did!” You softly laugh. “You refused to go fishing with a pole or net - you always had to use a trident.”

“It was just… easier that way.” He shrugs before he sadly looks away. “I don’t know if I can fight again, not after-”

“-They would want you to fight, as do I.” You lightly squeeze his hand. “Do it for Annie. For Mags. For every victor and child whose life was changed or ended too soon.”

“For you?” He tilts his head at you.

“I thought that was implied.” You smile at him before leaning in and giving him a kiss. “Go on the next cargo ship over. They’re leaving in a few hours to bring supplies to the front lines.”

He stands up, but doesn’t let go of your hand.

“I love you.”

It’s quiet, soft, and sweet - just the way you imagined those words falling from his lips.

“I love you too.”

He kisses you again - with more passion this time, before letting go of your hand and exiting your shared living quarters.

A silent tear falls down your face, as if you knew the future before it happened.

You wanted your last moment with him to be happy, and it was.

~

“Where will you go?” Johanna asks as you sit on the stairs of the President’s Mansion.

You all have done it. Snow was to be executed, and a new government to be put in place. But what about those you had lost?

You bite your lip before tears fall down your cheeks.

“Home. I’m going to arrange a service for Annie, Mags,” You bow your head before a sob breaks from your throat, “and Finnick.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” 

You’d normally tease Johanna for her genuine concern for you at this moment, but you didn’t have it in you. You were tired, you were angry, and you were mourning.

“That’d be nice. I could use someone to help pick up the pieces.” You pull your jacket over your shoulders as a light breeze glides into the area. “What about you?”

“I don’t know yet.” She shrugs before looking at everything around you. “There’s no family for me to go back to, so it doesn’t make sense to go back to District 7. District 13 certainly doesn’t feel like home, not with those doctors and their needles-” She shudders as you do the same.

“-You can stay with me, if you’d like.” Her eyes widen as you nervously bite your lip. “I’ll make sure that we’re far away from the ocean or any body of water.”

“Sounds nice.” She mutters as you fall into a comfortable silence.

“Do you…” You pause before Johanna looks over at you. “Do you think it was wrong of me to tell Finnick to fight?”

“We both know that he would’ve found his way to the frontlines of the fight. It’s not like him to sit back and watch,” She looks over at you with pity, “and you shouldn’t blame yourself for this. For anything that’s happened.”

“Thanks, Johanna.” You say as you look up at the sky.

If you weren’t having such a shitty day, you’d say that the sky looked prettier than it ever did.

~

As expected, the Victor’s Village in District 4 was a mess. Windows were smashed, doors were torn off their hinges, and furniture was thrown out of homes and into gardens and walkways.

There must’ve been a mad rush from Capitol forces to find the victors who had escaped, and to take the ones who hadn’t. You were lucky to be gone from this place, and it crushed you to see it in such disarray.

As you approach Finnick’s home, Johanna lingers behind you.

“You go first. I think it’s better if you poke around there first.” She says as you place your hand on the door frame, where the door once was.

“Afraid of something in there?” You joke as she rolls her eyes.

“Very funny, Sunny,” She leans against a nearby building as a smile appears on her face, “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Me too.” You mumble before stepping inside.

Everything that was once orderly and neat was now a complete mess. A hurricane going through Finnick’s house would cause less damage than this. 

With the beating that the walls appeared to have taken, you’re surprised that the house is still standing.

I should be quick, just in case.

Finnick wasn’t much for sentimental items, so there was little decor in the house besides what you and the other Victors had given him. There was one item in particular you were looking for - a seashell you had given him when you had arrived back in District 4 after winning your first Hunger Games. 

He said he had still kept it, years later, but where was it? You had checked downstairs, in every cabinet and drawer, and the upstairs didn’t look too promising as you approached the last room you needed to search - his bedroom.

You opened the doors to his room, and his scent washes over you. Despite the ruin downstairs and the minor damage upstairs, this room seemed to be untouched.

Odd.

Your eyes look over his dresser, the closet, and his desk before you notice that the drawer by his nightstand was open.

You rush over to it, and you sigh in relief as you find the seashell.

You hold the seashell to your chest as a soft tear makes its way down your cheek - one of the last things you had to remind you of Finnick. A happy memory, nonetheless.

The drawer isn’t completely empty, though - a note sits in there, tucked into a pretty envelope.

It’s addressed to me.

~

Finnick wasn’t a wordsmith, not in the slightest, but he had to get these thoughts out of his mind and onto a piece of paper. If not for the sake of his sleep schedule, but for his sanity as well.

He looks over at the seashell you gave him, and he smiles fondly. This note was for you, it had to be special.

Like a gentle stream, the words came easy to him when Finnick started writing. He wrote to you about your first meeting, about how proud he was of you, and everything he loved about you.

Love? Was that too strong of any emotion, too soon?

It wasn’t like you were going to read this letter - it was for him to look back and admire when he had a nightmare and needed some comfort. 

You could always come and knock on his door when he needed comfort, but he felt guilty doing the same thing - he was your mentor, after all, and that dynamic still stuck with him. 

He was supposed to watch out for you, but somehow, it evolved into something more.

He stares at the letter in front of him - it was supposed to be one page, but had quickly become three instead. Finnick chuckles to himself before grabbing an envelope - you had a way of making him push himself further, past what he thought was possible.

The letter is neatly tucked into the envelope as Finnick looks out over the rest of the Victors’ Village. It was pitch-black outside, and he should be sleeping.

You’d probably scold him for looking so tired in the morning.

He’d probably enjoy it, just as he did every day.

The pen wrote your name on the envelope before he thought to stop his own hand, but he didn't scratch it out or grab another envelope.

Perhaps he’d give it to you, someday.

A day where you both had time to spend with each other.

tagging ->@yokolesbianism , @avoxrising, @honethatty12, @sweetybuzz25, @catvader101, @sollum, @emerald-valkyrie, @randomgurl2326, @caitsymichelle13, @bcbci, @iris1587, @hi-im-fan-trash (thank you all for your support on this series!)

[minniebbang]

"the world is cruel, but I still love you" | H.Hyunjin & Y.Jeongin

pairing: Hyunjin x Jeongin x fem!reader (skz x attack on titan au) word count: 2.9k words genre/s: slightly angst, fluff Summary: one month after the rumbling, everything started to return to normal. warning: there's a major spoiler of the ending here, death, alcohol, slight cursing, and too many references from aot a/n: I apologize for any grammar mistakes. Other than that, enjoy! I also write this just for fun. This event happened before Armin and the others returned to Paradis to tell their story. (I might or might not do a mood board for this story, tell me if you want one) Eren - Hyunjin, Mikasa - reader, Armin - Jeongin, Levi - Minho, Jean - Changbin, Conny - Felix, Hange - Jisung, Pieck - Seungmin, Erwin - Chan

He glanced ahead, and tears began forming on the edge of his eyes. He fell to his knee, his hand clenching the sand around him as a screeching scream broke out. Tears poured down, creating thousands of dots under him. Despite the strong burning mist swirling around him, he witnessed uncountable bodies being flattened by the titan’s feet and small silhouettes running away from the creatures he’d called out, their cries pierced through Hyunjin’s ear. He covered his ear as his heart pounded louder in his chest, he never wanted this. He just wanted to see the other side of the sea, and what living there would be like. 

What had he done? From the day he was born, special wasn’t something fitting for him. With such power, he’d destroyed everything from the beginning. How could the island believe in him? How could the scouts believe in him? 

Why did the Titans exist in the first place? He wouldn't have suffered in this hell if it weren’t for them. His mother, His father, Uncle Hannes, Captain Chan, Shasha and everyone else wouldn’t have died.

Flames slowly devoured his hand and his grasp on his ear tightened until he felt something slipping through his finger.

“Hyunjin!”

“Y/N?? Jeongin??” His heart called out desperately, praying you would engulf him in your warmth again.

He blinked and his breath subsided to its normal tempo when he realised everything he saw was a figment of his overheated imagination, no it was rather a memory he’d live with now. The trauma stayed with him no matter how hard Jeongin tried to soothe him. It was easier to say than to be done. He exhaled a deep breath dripping with relief. 

He folded his eyes as he shifted his weight over his arm, head facing the vastness of the universe. The night’s air filled his lungs and the sounds of dancing grass around him rang in his ear, bringing a sense of peacefulness to him. Peace – how long had he been searching for this? He sacrificed everything and killed half of the human population for the sake of freedom outside of the walls – for the sake of his friend’s happiness and safety. It doesn’t include that he nearly lost himself in the war, if he did, what would happen to them? To Jeongin? To you?

“Hyunjin! Stop wandering out alone!” Somebody shouted, voice cracking and he heard heavy footsteps swiftly approaching him.

He opened his eyes and rapidly stood up. He was perching on the cliff that led to a camp placing all the survivors from the rumbling a month ago, so his action almost caused him to fall. You arrived in front of him, worry displayed on your countenance. Hyunjin’s heart wrenched in guilt as he took in your creased eyebrows and eyes brimming with crystal tears. It was the same expression he saw when he lied to you and Jeongin for the first time. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I just want to clear my head from the memory.” He beamed a tender smile at you and fixed the loose scarf around your neck properly when the breeze blew over. 

“Taking off alone without telling the scouts isn’t a good idea either. Although there are no Titans, there are still enemies. I can’t bear thinking of living without you and Jeongin.” You clenched the scarf as tears escaped. He stepped forward and hugged you, letting you cry in his chest. His hand caressed your hair and rested his other hand on your waist. 

“I’m sorry for being such an asshole. I’m sorry for making you and Jeongin worry. I’m sorry–” He pulled you closer to his body.

“For everything, Y/N.”

“Hyunjin! Y/N! There you are!” A blonde-haired male jumped onto them, and a few giddy giggles escaped his lips. Hyunjin released his hand from your hair and wrapped it around the male’s shoulder to balance himself. You hastily wiped the tears from your cheeks before the latter noticed.

“You cried?! What happened!? Did Hyunjin say something mean to you again?”Jeongin asked and he narrowed his eyes at Hyunjin, gaze piercing through Hyunjin’s eyes. Hyunjin gulped out of fear while shaking his head vigorously.

“He didn’t. I feel overwhelmed to see him, that’s all. I’m fine, Jeongin!” You released yourself from the hug and snapped your head to the side, hearing the other scouts shouting Hyunjin’s name. 

“Hey, what are you doing, Hyunjin!?” Changbin scowled and carefully climbed his way up to the trio's side. Felix trailed behind him, waving his hand toward them.

“Oh! You guys made it just in time!” Someone exclaimed, causing everyone to recoil. Changbin had his arm up to defend his face while the sudden greeting stiffened other’s shoulders. Only you remained composed and faced the voice’s owner.

“Onyankopon! It’s great to see you” 

Onyankopon raised the tray in his hand that held two cups of what seemed to contain tea, a slight grin on his face. The other stood on their toes to see what the male had brought with him. Changbin rushed to him, hooking his arm on Onyankopon’s neck while dragging him to the tarp site.

“Let’s get high tonight, buddy!” Changbin screamed in delight, receiving a shake from Felix. Felix glanced at Jeongin, cursing Changbin’s behaviour under his breath before pulling Jeongin with him, and running after Changbin.

“Changbin, don’t be an idiot!” Felix groaned. You and Hyunjin exchanged a look. You quickly diverted your attention to the tarp site and parted away, burying your cheeks that began heating up in the scarf. Hyunjin chortled and chased you, swiftly intertwining his hand with yours when he arrived by your side.

“That’s so not you, Y/N. Why are you running away?” Hyunjin teased, attempting to test the water yet you kept your head to the side, giving no chance to Hyunjin to observe your flushed cheeks. After minutes of silence that emitted an answer, he hummed in understanding and swung your hands while approaching Onyankopon’s tarp. The place was brimming with oil lamps from each tarp. The lamps were the sole light source in Marley for the time being, other sources had turned into ashes. 

As you descend further, delightful giggles echo in your ear. You halted and your finger released itself from Hyunjin’s. You spun to the source and saw a familiar scene across from you. Three kids -- 2 boys and a girl, were standing by an imaginary start line. The boy with black hair grinned at his two other friends and ran to the tree opposite them before the blonde-haired boy finished his countdown. That boy seemed so much shorter than them, like Jeongin. The girl fastened her pace, leaving the short boy struggling to keep up with their speed. 

Their clothes blew in the gentle night breeze. As expected, the black-haired boy arrived first with a winning fist high in the air, his chest raising rapidly as he regained his breath. The girl came in second and the last one was the smallest out of them all. They had their hands resting on the tree, exchanging wide smiles. The blonde-haired boy quickly scolded the other boy for not keeping his promise.

And then, they glanced at you. Your breath hitched in your throat as realisation sunk in. They were you, Hyunjin and Jeongin. You felt tears threatening to build again only to stop when a gentle hand grasped your shoulder. You peeked behind you – it was Jeongin.

“What are you watching? Everyone is waiting for you” 

You looked back at the field and there was no one there. Was it your imagination?

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Jeongin shook your shoulder, noticing you were taken aback by what you saw earlier.

“Oh– I’m okay. Let’s go”

You and Jeongin arrived at Onyankopon’s tarp and Changbin had already begun feasting on the meal that Onyankopon had prepared for the scouts. You sat beside Hyunjin and Jeongin settled beside you. He took a glass filled to the brim, chugging the content in one go. He hummed in satisfaction before handing the glass to Felix, asking for more.

You took a slice of cake and put it on Hyunjin’s plate. He tilted his head at you.

“You need a lot of food to recover, Hyunjin. You have to eat and stay alive.”

“Recover from what? I didn’t hurt myself–” You shoved the cake into his mouth before he could fully reply to you. His cheeks were chubby due to the cake yet he tried hard to complete his sentence, causing you to giggle at his vain attempt. Your laugh brought ease to Hyunjin’s heart. Did he deserve to make you happy like you are right now?

The night went on and the tent slowly turned messy after a drunk Changbin challenged Felix to a wrestling battle while Jeongin invited other survivors to join them for their small dinner. Loud laughter and chatter replenished the silent night until past midnight when most of them had passed out from consuming too many foods and drinks as if there were no tomorrow. 

Minho raised his lantern to his chest as his face furrowed in disapproval. The tent was dark, what a hassle to search for them.

“Shit, this is much worse than the previous one.” He scowled and pushed his wheelchair deeper into the tarp and his nose scrunched up at the reeked alcohol and the smell of food wastes mingling in the air. He moved the lantern to his side. All of his scouts were there, scattered in the corner. 

“Damn, these kids never give us a break don’t they, captain?” Someone cooed beside Minho and he whipped his head to his side, eyes widened. Out of his consciousness, his body jolted to his right, making him lose balance but that figure quickly grabbed his arm. 

“What the hell are you doing here, four-eyes freak?”

“Hey, that’s not how you greet your dearest friend, Minho. It shouldn't have been a little nice. Say, didn’t you miss me?” 

“I'd rather burn in hell than say that to you, Jisung.”

Jisung booed him and looked at the kids. His cheeky grin fell into a thin line. “How is he doing? Is he coping everything well?”

Minho trailed his gaze to Jisung’s direction. Hyunjin was sleeping between you and Jeongin, his arms wrapped securely on your and Jeongin’s shoulder. Minho shrugged his shoulder and kicked Changbin’s leg that was under him.

“Enough with the small talk. Help me carry the kids to the ship.”

“Did you miss Jisung that much?” 

Minho raised his head and met with Seungmin. Up until today, Seungmin had a hard time deciphering Minho’s emotions but currently, he could see devastation and confusion written on his face. Minho sighed and massaged his temple. He imagined about Jisung again.

“Am I going insane like Hyunjin did before the rumbling? That moron is getting into my head.”

“It’s not a sin to admit you miss someone. You had to sacrifice many souls to be here today, those souls including your friends. I miss my friends too. My dad said missing someone means you keep them in your heart.” Seungmin uttered softly and flashed a small smile to Minho.

“I’m still pissed off, cart head. You are the only reason I couldn’t kill Zeke in our first encounter”

Seungmin chuckled “Come on, captain! Leave the past behind, I don’t possess the cart-titan ability anymore. Besides, you still manage to kill Zeke.”

Their conversation died down when Onyankopon approached them. He gasped when he registered the view in front of him. 

“I’m sorry!! I think I might give them too much drink” He grinned, rubbing the back of his neck as his face reddened. Seungmin waved his apology off, saying it was fine for them to have fun.

“Let’s get them onto the ship. We are going to Paradis tonight”

“Why not stay here for the night?” Onyankopon asked

“I don’t want to disturb anyone with our presence”

-----

Hyunjin woke up from his deep slumber. He sat while cradling his aching head. His head begged him to go back to sleep but his heart wanted the otherwise. He observed his new surroundings. The room was small with a bunk bed and a low light shone through the window. Oh, he was on a ship?

He carefully climbed down from his bed and noticed you were sleeping under him. He leaned in and the moonlight slipped in, helping him to see your face. He admired how soft your features were when you were sleeping but it was the opposite when you were awake. He tugged the stray hairs behind your ear before kissing your forehead. He exited the room and walked to the ship’s deck, resting his arm against the railing.

Meanwhile, you jolted from your sleep and panicked when Hyunjin was nowhere to be seen. You got out of your bed and rushed outside of the room. A sigh of relief escaped after you saw Hyunjin chilling on the deck. You approached him.

“I thought you were my other figment” You mumbled

“Y/N, I’m alive and standing in front of you. You’re not dreaming”

“I know but it’s difficult to believe it. I sliced your head off and I swear I didn’t feel any breathing coming from you. I held your head in my palm, Hyunjin. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Hyunjin faced you and gently held your arm.

“We live in a life where nothing makes sense”

“But how are you alive now?”

“I guess Ymir had a change of heart because of you. She needs proof that someone like her doesn’t exist. After 2000 years, you appeared. Maybe she doesn’t want someone else to experience what she did thus she brought me back to life. We'll never know her intention, Y/N.”

“Mhmmm, something is missing. Where’s your scarf?”

You just realised your neck felt exposed to the wind. Hyunjin immediately went to the room and returned with the red scarf that once belonged to him. He wrapped the scarf around you and smiled. 

“Thank you for wrapping this scarf around me, Hyunjin,” You said, words lacing with sincerity from the deepest part of your heart while tugging the scarf down to your chin.

“I would wrap it around you as many as you want, now and forever” 

You nodded and reached for his long hair that began covering his eyes, caressing his hair tenderly. “Your hair is getting longer. Can I cut it?”

His eyes glimmered in excitement as he pulled a pair of scissors from his pocket. “I was thinking the same too! That’s why I bring the scissors with me.”

He handed the item and sat on the floor, facing the sea. His feet bounced as a child would when they got their favourite toy. You kneeled behind him and started to cut his hair. 

“I adore you a lot, Y/N. I love you” He muttered. He hid his face into his knee, embarrassed by how he blurred that precious word easily. His face felt hot against his skin when he realised you probably didn’t hear his confession. 

“Raise your head!” 

“Sorry madam!” He returned to his original position, pressing his lips to appear calm despite his reddish face. You grabbed a handful of his hair and ran the sharp edge through his hair.

“Do you remember when you said to throw away this scarf when you die?”

He hummed “That is the best way to forget me”

You set the scissors on the floor and cleaned the remaining hair on his collar.

“You really had the guts to say that. Why would I forget you?”

“I’m a child of evil, I’m a monster. A monster doesn’t deserve apologies moreover to be in someone’s memories. Everyone should forget me.”

“No, you’re a victim…”

Loud footsteps echoed behind you and before you could identify the silhouette, Hyunjin had fallen to the floor with someone clinging to his neck, hugging him tightly.

“I thought I was dreaming!” Jeongin sniffed on Hyunjin’s shoulder. His body trembled as another cry was let out. Hyunjin chuckled and ruffled his hair.

 “You’re not, innie! I’m here with both of you!”

Hyunjin’s gaze softened as he rubbed the tears off with the back of his hand. Jeongin retreated and helped Hyunjin to sit. He sniffed for the last time and erased the stain on his face using his sleeve. 

“I’m glad we could witness the sea together properly” His eyes were shut as he smiled widely at you and Hyunjin. You couldn’t help but follow his action. 

“No matter how far you look, it stretches past the horizon” You can truly admit that the real Hyunjin has returned. The three of you finally reunited again, which couldn’t make you any happier. To live with them in peace; was Hyunjin’s wish for the longest time.

“I love you guys, thank you for not giving up! Oh, Y/N. Did you know that Hyunjin is afraid of you living with another man other than him?” Jeongin grinned and Hyunjin’s face turned even redder at the statement. 

“Innie! Don’t tell her!”

“I have another one!”

“No! Just shut your damn mouth!”

Behind a closed door, someone leaned on the wall, silently listening to the trio’s conversation. 

“Chan, Jisung if you’re listening, Hyunjin will be fine with them. I’m not saying this so you could rest in peace, but I’m sure of it. That idiot wouldn’t pull anything as long as Y/N and Jeongin are safe”

Minho placed a clenched fist on his heart as he saw figments of Jisung and Chan ahead of him.

“Thank you for everything, captain”

[squarebracketsmileyface]

I’m like, bombarding you now and I’m sorry- but I have so many thoughts. 👁️👁️

Like for instance- how much would Sorry, Its Locked have changed if Jay and Alex’s roles were swapped? Alex, who stayed relatively sane(at first), though still denied any feelings Jay(he’s straight, its just smex, shut up). And Jay, who gets so angry and hurt and harbors so much resentment for Alex over the whole thing that The Operator latches onto him instead. Jay who spirals and starts killing their friends(and probably Amy too out of sheer jealousy and resentment), who up and vanishes for years and Alex never knows why(was the smex that bad?).

Power bottom Jay who really doesn’t want to kill Alex, he likes him too much(maybe he’s a little obsessed now, just a bit), so every time they run into each other and Alex starts to question him Jay shoves him down onto the nearest surface and keeps him going till he’s so spent he can’t think straight. And this cycle keeps going until both of them hate each other so badly its angry and its hateful on sight(but they still can’t get rid of those feelings god damn it-).

Alex who teams up with Tim or with Brian when he realizes Jay is too far gone? Who finally accepts that maybe he is a little gay when things start happening between them. Jay, who gets so jealous and angry and believes there’s no longer any other way to spare Alex(if he won’t be with Jay then he can’t keep him safe, the only option left is to put him in the ground).

Oh My God

The way i wanna write this so bad now lmfao. It'd take so long but oh my god fucking IMAGINE IT holy shit. im going to go feral over this i fear.

This got really long lmfao

like... 1.8K words long 💀💀💀

Anyway, i love this idea so much so enjoy whatever tf this is under the thingy-ma-bob

Amy still dying but this time its because of Jay's jealously rather than Alex's hopeless final attempt to save her from his own fate is such a fun iea.

Honestly, i feel like Jay's motivations to kill (which have obviously been twisted by the Operator and all that, he wouldn't kill without it twisting him) would be very different to Alex's. At least in Sorry It's Locked. Because in S,IL Alex's motivations are purely to save people, it's just that the operator twisted him until he thinks killing is the only way to save people, he thinks him killing them is going against what it wasn't, when that's still what the Operator wants, as long as more people get exposed to the sickness along the way. Whereas the S,IL version of Jay probably wouldn't kill out of a twisted and misguided kindness, he'd still think he was doing the right thing, but I honestly think the Operator would have an easier time getting him to kill.

to me Alex is an extremely caring and selfless person. Like, sure he's a bit of a nob and his student film was shit and he just couldn't recognise that because he was pretentious and a film student, but like, idk in my head before the Operator got to him he was the sweetest person, hence how he managed to pull Amy lol. The Operator had to convince him that killing was the way to save people in order to get him to do what it wanted. Whereas with Jay i think he'd have a much easier time killing for selfish reasons, and honestly i feel like he'd still film like he does as the protagonist of MH. I think the Operator would convince him he'd been wronged by the people he was killing and that it was righteous revenge or justice for himself or something like that? You know?

He'd think he was doing the right think in the sense of his own sense of justice, rather than doing the right thing to save the other people exposed to the Operator sickness. And because of his hyperfixation on Alex, it'd definitely go in the same direction of him not wanting to kill Alex, because Alex hasn't wronged him, the world around them has wronged him by making Alex think they needed to hide that they were sleeping together. It was the world's homophobia that caused Alex to refuse to accept that he was queer in any way. And obviously if Jay doesn't blame Alex, it'd be really difficult for the Operator to convince him to kill him, because Jay's actions are based on getting the justice that he thinks he deserves.

He kills Seth and Sarah and tries to kill Brian and Tim because he believes that they weren't supportive enough to make Alex feel comfortable to come out or whatever. Right? But With the Operator going down that route to get him to kill, because that's the easiest route to take, it creates a bit of a problem for itself in the future if it wants Jay to kill Alex eventually. But i don't think it actually thinks. As in like, i don't think it is making any conscious decisions about what it does, its like that fungus that grows inside ants and takes over their nervous systems and makes them climb up high so it can spread its spores. I don't think it's a thinking creature, it just does what it does.

Anyway, i think in Alex's place, with justice as his motivation, Jay would kill more people, and i think he'd make an example of them. He'd still film everything because of the memory loss the Operator causes, but he'd use those videos to kind of, like, show off what happens if you're a homophobe. Or if he thinks you are one. Idk if that makes sense. And idk magic operator powers stop anyone thinking the videos are real, just like with the fact that we see Alex kill tunnel guy in the videos, but no one else in universe actually thinks they just witnessed a murder recorded and put on youtube.

I think with Jay in Alex's role, in Sorry It's Locked they'd probably have more than just one encounter where they have sex. Like, for Alex in actual S,IL that happens mostly just kind of impulsively because like, Jay is coming onto him and yeah, he does kind of miss what they used to have, he still felt shit about having to kill Amy so wanted to distract himself from that, and then afterwards he was like SHIT I NEED TO DRIVE HIM AWAY TO TRY AND SAVE HIM WITHOUT KILLING HIM. or something like that. Whereas with Jay in Alex's place I think he'd purposefully try to tempt Alex closer and closer to him, to try and get him on his side, to become like partners in crime. You know? Everything revolves around Alex for him, so of course he wants to keep him close and under his command.

I think Jay would still be the sub in their dynamic in this, but I think he'd be a bit more like he is in chapter two of If It Ain't Broken (which is up by the way, cheeky lil self promo lol). Because subs can be pushy and the one in charge of scenes in every way other than what they actually do within the scenes themselves. Does that make sense lol? Just because they're being submissive within a scene doesn't mean they are submissive in every aspect of their relationships. Y'know?

And I think at first Alex would be like, fine with it, like, he misses what they had, and he misses Amy (he doesn't know Jay killed her, all he saw was the Operator and someone who he couldn't actually make out and then everything goes blank and he wakes up somewhere else distraught knowing she's dead or something like that) so of course if Jay is offering comfort he's going to take it. He'd still be like, not accepting that he's queer himself and that he genuinely likes Jay, like you said. I think Alex wouldn't find out Jay's the 'villain' until quite a bit later than Jay found out that Alex was the 'villain' because Alex wasn't too concerned about hiding what he was doing because he thought he was saving people (except maybe tunnel guy, that seemed like a weird fear response lol)

ANYWAY, in this like, reversed Sorry It's Locked au i think Alex would take longer to find out Jay was the one killing people, because Jay would be more carefuly about hiding that it's him. He'd film all the murders and shit, but i fell like the main mystery would be who is killing, rather than like, who's behind the hoodie mask. (i know that's probably not like the main mystery, but it is to me lol)

Jay doesn't want Alex to be scared of him, and he's aware enough to know that knowing he's killing people would scare Alex off. The only things he really sees the way they are are things directly related to Alex, and he knows Alex will be scared of him/hate him if he finds out Jay's the one who killed Amy.

And (jesus this is long i'm so sorry)

Jay seeing things mostly as they are when it comes to Alex directly would mean that he'd see when things start to change with how Alex treats him when they sleep together. Aka Alex not wanting to do it as much because he's spending time with Tim and/or Brian and they're showing him what it's like to be in a healthy relationship (they let him still say it's just sex and nothing else, because that's how he feels most comfortable/safe/secure in himself, but they still make sure it's a healthy relationship while also trying to help him feel comfortable enough in himself to recognise that he's queer. I guess a bit like how Tim's going to try and help Jay come to terms with his gender identity in like, the actualy version of S,IL i'm writing, yknow?)

Anyway, Alex kinda drawing back from Jay and insisting on asking him questions and getting answers, rather than just letting Jay shove him onto the floor, or pull him in by his collar, or whatever so he can distract him with sex. Alex doing that would terrify him. Because his entire motivation is based around like, 'getting' Alex? Like, he's trying to make it so Alex feels safe to come out? Kinda? I don't know. He want's Alex to himself and Alex pulling away and trying to like, actually get answers rather than them just having sex would be the exact opposite of what he wants?

I think when Jay finds out Alex is in an actual relationship with Tim and/or Brian (whoever he teams up with, maybe both of them honestly) that's when the Operator kinda convinces him to kill Alex as well? Like, he's so angry and jealous and like, almost betrayed? that he goes from trying to have Alex to himself to just wanting to hurt Tim and Brian any way he can? Maybe? i don't know. Like, he wants to take Alex from them any way he can, and if he can't do that in a relationship sense then he'll have to do it physically.

I think first he'd try to like, capture Alex and keep him prisoner maybe? He wouldn't think of it like that, he'd convince himself Tim and Brian were bad for Alex in some way and that he's saving him, but eventually he'd just want to hurt Tim and Brian really fucking badly for 'what they did to Alex' (showed him a healthy relationship and made it so he decided that, no, he doesn't wanna keep doing this with Jay, actually). And that would be how it kinda ended? Like, I think it'd be a kinda murder suicide thing? Maybe? I don't know I'm very much making this up as i go along surprisingly (not surprisingly) lmao

I think Jay would kill Alex in front of Tim and Brian (with a knife, i think his weapon of choice is still a knife, and I think if anyone has a gun it's Brian but he's incredibly hesitant about ever using it), and then he'd turn the knife on himself. It'd be, like, to Jay it'd be that he and Alex would be together in death, and Tim and Brian would be left with only each other and they wouldn't get to have Alex?

does that make sense?

Then Tim and Brian have to navigate life after that, 1. navigate the revelation that it was Jay all along killing people (Jay was the mystery masked man rather than hoodie) and 2. that Jay took Alex from them even after they worked so hard to help Alex come to terms with his sexuality and everything?

maybe?

[nathanbatemanfucker]

summary: never wanted love, just a fancy car.

pairing: cowgirl!reader x cowboy!din

contents: 18+/nsfw/smut, cowboy au, typical Wild West violence & values (murder, stealing), flirting, pining, perceived unrequited feelings, yearning (if you squint)

wc: 4k

an: part two comin at yaaaaa. these two are so special to me. reader does have a code name in this that she uses, so if your name is scarlet sorry in advance!

series masterlist | writing masterlist

ch 1: takes one to know one

You don’t discuss the logistics or practicality of sticking together, you just do it. After meandering in Strawberry a few days longer to garner more money and supplies the two of you head southeast.

Din has a tent. You’ve gotten used to traveling as light as possible and staying in structures that already exist so as not to draw attention to yourself. But you already feel safer traveling with him. You feel yourself loosening up in the wake of his companionship and competency. And in that, you find a discomfort you’re not ready to unpack.

The town you end up in after dabbling in Strawberry– Cheyenne– is the closest thing you’ve seen to a true city. There are talks and whispers of New York and all the structure and opportunity it brings. Bustling with thousands of folk, buggies, art, and theater. Not to mention proper plumbing. But, settling down isn’t an option right now– or ever—you quickly remind yourself, as not to get your hopes up for something that doesn’t exist. Besides, you’re not sure you could ever imagine yourself working a steady job. Staying put in one place sounds so…stagnant.

Cheyenne is markets in back alleys, crowded streets, and a view of the sea. You’re grateful for the cool, salty air of the coast during this hellish summer. But the city has its cons: mixed in with the salty air is the stench of pollution that comes with such a populated place. Its lawman force— ever present and large— works to you and Din’s disadvantage. The work you do is harder in a place like this but the spoils will last you ten times over than in places like Strawberry or Annesburg.

You and Din have taken a room at an inn close to the edge of the city. You’ve just returned from a bath down the hall, one that was well overdue. Din’s already dressed in sleeping clothes, his hair wet and slicked back from his own bath. For just a moment you wonder what his hair feels lik. If it's as soft or thick as it looks. Whatever spell that is breaks when he closes his eyes as you enter in just a towel, turning over in the bed.

There’s nothing there for him, not that you can pick up. It shouldn’t matter, there’s nothing there for you either. He’s your partner, life has been so much better with him at your side already. It runs smoother, it feels safer. The fuzzy, unfocused picture that you were living in sharpened. Why would either of you even think to jeopardize something that works so well with the simple thought of more? You won’t.

“There’s a big wig in this city. Robert Leroy— folks call him Bobby,” You say to distract yourself from the sinking feeling in your stomach.

“What’s he got to do with anythin’? We’ve got our targets.”

You and Din had stopped at the jail as soon as you’d entered the city, eager to pick up as many bounties as you could. It earns you some trust with the lawmen and gives you an excuse to meander the city at any time, asking questions to get the lay of the land and search for real targets. This time it was easier than that, but it doesn’t mean you won’t maximize your time here, exploring every possible avenue of income.

“Bobby is the reason they’re our targets. I used my charm on the sheriff, he says Bobby’s the one who put the price on their heads. We get them and maybe we get invited to that big fancy party that’s next week.”

You aren’t able to see it, but Din frowns, teeth gritting at the mention of using your charm. He should be used to it by now, and it should never bother him. But in the recesses of his mind, there’s no denying that it does. None of those men deserve to look at you, let alone witness your charm.

“Party,” Din repeats, sounding skeptical.

“It’s at his house. His mansion. The one full of expensive shit,” You explain as you slip into the only thing of your mother’s you have left— an old, scratchy nightgown.

“You’re still not sellin’ it, girl.”

“We can’t pass up all the riches in that man’s house, Din. You’ll have to deal. I’ll charm, you’ll steal and we’ll leave this place,” You insist as you slide into bed next to him, facing away so that your backs are just a few inches apart.

Din’s body radiates heat and despite the sweltering heat, you stay beneath the blanket with him. Sometimes if the two of you sleep close enough to the other, you’ll wake up tangled in his arms the next morning. Neither of you say anything about it, going about those mornings as if they’re any other. And maybe they are.

“Do we gotta?”

“Strawberry’s reapings will only last so long,” You reason, glancing over your shoulder at him.

“You charm, I steal,” He repeats his version of your words and you can hear the mirth in his sandy voice.

“I just said that.”

“Did you? I didn’t hear,” He stretches, snuggling further in the mattress.

“You’re full of shit.”

He snorts, shaking his head, “Go to bed, girl, we’ve got busy days ahead.”

Din was right— the next week the two of you work from sunrise to sunset capturing all the bounties you’d collected from the sheriff. Some are easier than others, frequented black markets or popular bars for folk that run in your lifestyle.

But there’s one that’s tedious to catch; Stagecoach Mary, a notorious cowgirl who you’ve always admired all holed up in her little shack that rests in its own little bayou just outside of the city. The shootout with her eats up most of your ammo, and a bullet ends up grazing your arm. Din gets Mary hog-tied and strapped to his horse before he comes to check on you. He’s deathly quiet like he always is, but you can feel the urgency in his movements. He removes your button-down without asking, using some of the water in his canteen to cleanse the wound before he covers it in salve and wraps it.

“You alright?” He asks quietly as he helps you back into your shirt.

Your eyes go a bit wide at the raw sound of concern in his voice, but you quickly brush it off, “S’just a scratch, I’ll be just fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure, Din,” You say gently, and though it stings like a bitch, you aren’t going to say differently. The last thing your resolve needs is him fawning over you, worried about your health.

His gaze raises to meet yours, eyes narrowing to appraise you before he sighs and starts towards his horse. Mary is quiet on the ride back thankfully, and when you drop her off at the sheriff’s office, you get exactly what you two have been working so hard for. Bobby himself is there– the sheriff had told him about you and Din, how promising your skills had been so far and he wanted to thank you both personally.

He looks like money, with frills and shiny leather shoes, his hair slicked back with a pomade that smells like pine, ““I can’t thank you fine people enough. She’s been a real thorn in my side.”

You take the hand he’s offered, shaking it daintly, “We’re happy to help Mr. LeRoy, no one should have to leave in fear.”

Leroy squeezes your hand before bending to kiss it, “Please, sweetheart, call me Bobby.”

You giggle softly, batting your eyelashes at him, “Bobby, then. I’m Scar. This is my partner Djarin.”

Din blinks in surprise before quickly schooling his expression into the impassive mask he’s so good at. It's the first that he’s heard of your name. He knows that this is part of the charm, knows that you wouldn’t give this man– or any man– your real name, but curiosity blooms inside of him. Had you just picked it randomly? Did it have any deeper meaning? Is it close to your real name?

“Scar? As in Scarlet? What a precious little gem,” Bobby runs his hand down the length of your arm, turning to look at Din with a glint of jealousy in his eyes. “Djarin, bet you never get enough of this sweet woman’s charm.”

“We aren’t— she’s my workin’ partner, s’all,” Din says firmly, though the way that he clenches his jaw says otherwise.

But who is Bobby to tell a grown man how he truly feels? Especially if he can reap benefits. He grins, turning back to look at you, “Well I’ll be hog wallered, I thought a dime like you’d be taken, Scar. If that’s true…I’m having this grand party in just a few days. Come, the both of you.”

“Oh, we couldn’t Bobby!”

“I insist!”

A sly grin spreads across your face and you smooth your hand over his, “Well if you insist. We’ll be there.”

A few nights later, after spending the days in fitting rooms, shopping (and stealing), you and Din are finishing up getting ready for the party in your inn room. You peek around the partition to make sure that he’s dressed and your mouth goes dry. He’s in a sleek black suit, the silver accents of his belt buckle and cowboy boots glinting in the last rays of sun that flood the small room. He looks incredible, his hair wet and slicked back, skin scrubbed completely clean. You lean back, bracing yourself against the wall as you force those thoughts out of your head. A distraction, you need a distraction. You look down at your dress, toying with the skirts– perhaps your distraction could be in distracting him.

“How do I look?” You ask as you step from behind the partition, holding your arms out as if to present yourself.

Din simply stares at you, and you’re about to tell him to forget it when he finally speaks. “You look—“ He stops, going quiet for what seems like forever before he clears his throat.

“What, is it? I look bad, don’t I? It’s stuffy, but we gotta look the part.” Your head tilts as you turn this and that way, watching the skirt flutter as you twirl.

“You look—it’s good,” He supplies, turning towards the mirror to fiddle with his tie. He swallows, ignoring the way the fabric of his tie sticks to his sweaty hands.

You turn to look at him, frown deepening as you smooth your hands down the intricate corset of the dress, “You sure? I need him to look at me, and if it’s not pleasin'—“

“It’s plenty pleasin’, now finish up and let’s go.”

You and Din rented a carriage, standing out to others invited would just make this evening worse. The ride– like most of your traveling with Din– is quiet, and you fiddle with your fingers, forcing yourself not to pick at the polish you’d gotten down for the occasion.

The mansion is grand, all cream with pillars and statues so delicate they look fit to shatter if you look at them wrong. You’re guided inside by men dressed in impeccable suits, hor devours and glasses of champagne pressed into your hands as you make your way through the expansive foyer and down the stairs into an even large backyard.

This is something you could only imagine in those moving pictures you’ve only had time to see once or twice. There are tables full of food and alcohol, droves of people dressed to the nines dancing and laughing and eating. And while you’re impressed, disgust accompanies it. The excess when there are so many who don’t have enough to make it a week. You’d seen plenty of unhoused folks on the streets as you and Din explored Cheyenne and this party could feed them all for days on end. You swallow your disdain for everyone here by focusing on the goal and painting a smile on your face as you breeze through the crowd. Try as you might, you can’t find Bobby so you park at a table that’s moderately far from the various groups of others.

“Maybe he hasn’t come out yet,” You whisper to Din as you pretend to look over some of the food. It looks so fancy that it’ll make you sick.

“Stay here and watch for’em, I’ll see what I can find out.”

Your eyes don’t leave him as he skates through the crowd easily and your mouth turns down in a frown when he’s stopped by a beautiful woman. To your surprise, he doesn’t blow her off, smiling as he begins to talk to her. You’ve never seen Din like this before. In the short month or so that you two have been together, you’ve been the lead on charming as all the places you’ve been in teem with men and their testosterone. You aren’t sure what this feeling is that rises in your chest as you watch the woman Din is talking to throw her head back with laughter. What you do know is that you want to end. Your feet are moving you towards him before you can think logically about it.

“Djarin, could I speak to you for a moment?” You say in your sweetest, most polite voice— emphasis on your southern drawl.

The woman he’s speaking to gives you a smile that doesn’t touch her eyes.

Din excuses you both, walking you over to a quiet spot beneath an ice sculpture that is surprisingly intact despite the heat of tonight’s air, “What is it, girl?”

Delicately as not to draw anyone’s attention, you remove your arm from his grasp, mouth pressed into a thin line, “What the hell happened to ‘you charm, I steal’?”

“She’s been in the house before. I was gettin’ the lay of it. You ain’t doing much charming if you’re chewin’ me out, are you? Look who it is.”

Bobby has finally made an appearance.

You narrow your eyes at him but stay silent. Din just stares back, unphased and you eventually give up, slinking off to do your part. To charm. Once you’re by his side, Bobby stays close to you like a bee stuck in honey– it's annoying really but this life has given you incredible acting skills so he’s none the wiser.

Lucky for you he gets distracted by some bigwig oil men who start to throw around some big numbers. You stand by his side, listening politely– gathering the names of these men just in case you ever run into them again– until you grow bored. You excuse yourself to the powder room, assuring him that you’ll return shortly as you leave the sweetest kiss on his cheek. You feel the way he shivers against you, his eyes cloudy as he nods.

Not long after you’d gone to talk to Bobby you’d seen Din slip out of the crowd and into the house. It may be a pain to find him a place this large but if you’re caught it’ll be realistic to play a dizzy, turned-around maiden.

As soon as you’re out of sight you spit, wiping your mouth with your sleeve in a move most unladylike as you try to find Din. The halls are empty, it seems as if Bobby’s staff is either occupied with entertaining guests or off for the evening.

“Up here, girl,” Din calls from above you, and when your eyes meet he holds up a sack that looks fit to burst. The smile that spreads across his face is different than the one he’d given the woman he talked to early, this one is genuine and it makes your heart flutter.

“How’s it going?” You ask once you make your way up to the stairs to stand beside him.

“Good, last room we got left is his office. C’mon.”

You follow after him closely, keeping your steps light like a cat so as not to draw any attention from below. When the two of you turn a corner down the final hall which holds Bobby’s office, there are two guards— one blonde, one brunette— standing outside of the door that is gilded in gold. You roll your eyes at its gaudiness but step forward with wide, guileless eyes.

“I’m sorry you two, it seems we’ve got lost trying to find the powder room. Could you help us?” You bat your lashes at the two men, standing up a little taller to push your breasts out.

“Back the way you came, down the stairs, to the left,” the blonde one says, unaffected by your attempt at charm.

Nevertheless, you try again, getting a little closer to the brunette, whose eyes have had a hard time staying on your face.

You gaze up at him with puppy dog eyes, “Could you maybe walk us? I mean— we are lost.”

You raise your hand to fiddle with the distracted guard’s tie, but the first one’s hand shoots out, wrapping tightly around your wrist. You gasp, looking over at the guard in feigned offense, like you’re some helpless maiden– like you wouldn’t slit his throat if your knife wasn’t buried under so many layers of fabric.

“It would do you best to walk away ma’am or I’ll have to call the lawmen,” The blonde says, his grip tightening around your wrist until it makes you wince.

Din takes a step forward, his voice so low and rough it sends a welcome chill down your spine. You don’t have to look at him to know how terrifying he looks right now, “No, it would do you best to let her go or I’ll have to crush your windpipe.”

“You threatenin’ me, yokel?”

You lean closer to the brunette guard, grimacing as you say, “Well this ain’t gonna end well is it?”

His eyes widen for a moment, flickering behind you and you know that Din is moving, already going in for the kill. You do your best to pry your hand from the other guard’s grip but it is tight, and as you struggle the one in front of you struggles to get his gun. As soon as your hand is free you reach for his neck, planting your feet so that you’ll have the strength to snap his neck. There’s a loud crack from beside you before you can get your hands in the right place, and your glance over to Din, seeing the way he followed through— the man's face is red and limp, the blood vessels in his eyes busted.

You regret getting off track because it seems the guard still alive is successful, getting off one shot that flies up into the ceiling. Refocusing, you knee him in the stomach, and his gun clatters to the ground just as you get your hands around his neck and twist as hard as you can.

“Fuck,” You breathe as the second man’s body hits the floor. His gunshot will absolutely draw attention, you and Din need to move quickly.

“In and out, no safes, whatever is unlocked and out in the open.”

You follow his instructions with no hesitation, stepping over the two bodies and moving through Bobby’s office with ease. There are solid gold paperweights, stacks of bonds, maps of train routes and what they’ll be holding, and even a few stacks of money in drawers. It's a jackpot if you’ve ever seen one and the two of you share a look of wonder before kicking it into gear to get out of there. You can hear the footsteps of lawmen rumbling through the house and give Din the signal to move into the room across the hall– it's another powder room. The two of you squeeze into the shower, listening intently as the lawmen call to each other, trying to figure out where you’ve gone.

You hear a voice say, “They must’ve gotten by us. Comb the streets.”

That works perfectly in your favor, and you grin over a Din, knowing that the streets are not how you plan to escape. As soon as the coast is clear, Din grabs your hand, leading you the opposite way of all the lawmen and house staff that have started towards Bobby’s office and bedroom. The two of you sneak out a side door and make your way toward the bayou in the backyard. You’d already set up a boat there to make an escape— no one would expect it since you and Din had rented a carriage to arrive.

He helps you step in the boat, grasping the hem of your skirts so that it’s easier for you to step in, and joins you as soon as you're settled. He doesn’t know how to row— not well at least— so you grab the oars and get to work. Your horses are strewn up to trees not too far from here and afterward you’ll collect your belongings from the inn and leave Cheyenne for good.

Din has started to count the money he retrieved, thumbing through the bills with his steady fingers.

“I pocketed a few things here and there while I waited for you— mostly watches but some wallets too. This should be a lot, we could rest in the next town for a bit if you wanted,” You whisper into the night.

He nods at you but doesn’t stop counting, pulling out a few gold bars you imagine he got from a safe. Once he’s finished counting he restarts, wanting to make sure he’s right.

“This is enough to get outta this,” He mumbles once he’s finished.

You think you’ve misheard him. “What?”

“This enough to get outta this,” He says again, looking up at you. You’re too busy rowing to gaze back at him and he takes this opportunity to look at you unabashedly, something he never lets himself do. It’s foggy enough that even if you were to notice his eyes burning into you, he could play it off, blaming it on the wispiness in the air.

Though you both look ridiculous, stiff, and dolled up for this party even as you row diligently through the muggy bayou, everything about you still shines through. His eyes are syrupy slow, following the curve of your jaw, the swell of your cheek, the line of your nose.

“Din?”

“Hmm?”

“Outta this profession, you mean?” You repeat the question he hadn’t heard as he got lost in you.

He clears his throat and sits up, staring into the fog, “You can’t tell me you never thought about it. Slowing down with a little patch of land, few animals and crops.”

Sure you had– on your loneliest days you’d let your mind wander. You let yourself dream about a life like that with someone. When Din came into your life, those dreams became a little more specific no matter how many times you tried to push them away.

Your brows shoot up as you finally look at him, face twisted in surprise, “You want to settle?”

“I said I’ve thought about it. This is just enough to get far enough that no one knows us. We’d need a lot of money to get everything for a stead. Not to mention makin’ it sustainable.”

This is the first time you’ve ever heard him talk like this and though you’ve only been doing this together for a month or so, you’d think it was something he would mention before entering into a partnership with someone. But hell— he still doesn’t know your name. It's worked so far, hasn’t it?

You make it to where your horses are, Augustine and Cresida look at you both expectantly, as if they’ve been waiting all day and have places to be.

“You’re serious,” You say in disbelief as he helps you out of the boat.

“There’s no reason for me to lie, girl,” He starts to shed his layers, removing the suit jacket and the crisp white button-down in favor of his long-sleeved undershirt. “You’ve never…”

You fish the pair of jeans you stashed on your horse out, hiking them up under the huge skirt of your dress before you take a knife and cut through it. You easily cut through the fabric of the tight corset, letting out a relieving breath.

“I have. Here and there. Didn’t see a point for it if it was just to be alone,” You murmur, shrugging into your shirt.

He’s quiet for a moment, before whispering into the night, barely heard over the symphony of crickets and cicadas, “Different now, ain’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Everything’s been different since meeting him. As the two of you mount your horses and start off into the night, your mind can’t help but wander back to that key detail— this man wants to settle down with a wild, nameless woman like you. Maybe that says enough. Maybe it’s all you’ll need.

ch 3: eyes full of stars

series taglist: @honeybrowne, @hotchs-bitch, @jazzelsaur, @lesbianhotch, @ivyheliotrope, @campingwiththecharmings, @frogers, @juneknight, @obscurexsorrows

[hellfiremunsonn]

Warmth. Joseph Quinn x Reader.

Warmth.

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

Summary: Craving some much needed attention and intimacy, you decided to bug Joseph a little until he caves. But naturally he doesn’t give you what you want right away.

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

AN: Thank u to @creme-bruhlee​ and @syddsatyrn​ for letting me pick ur brains on this when mine stopped working. I luh u both so much.

Warnings: fem! reader, cockwarming, p in v sex, m and f orgasms, established Sub and Dom type relationship, unprotected sex, (not mentioned but lets say the reader is on a form of contraceptive), swearing, after care. (IF THERE’S ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

Wordcount: 3739

Nothing felt like it was going right today. The weather outside was shit, that weird mix between snow and rain, where everything just ends up wet and cold. The kind of cold that seeps into your bones, cracking the skin on your knuckles, and numbing your toes. You had meetings on and off all day, with incompetent coworkers who barely knew the difference between up and down; not to mention your boss putting pressure on you to mentor these newbies as if it was in your job description.

The only upside was that you were able to work from home, and that the meetings weren't constantly back to back. Your schedule was flexible, and you thanked the heavens for that. It was just one of those days where the week had run you down, and all you wanted to do was curl up on the sofa with your boyfriend and watch shitty movies and get a takeaway.

You just wanted to turn your mind off, have someone else do the thinking for you, tell you what to do where to go, even when to eat and what. Sometimes it was easier to let yourself drift into subspace, and Joseph was always one to help you with that, even encouraging it when he knew you needed it, often times noticing you needed it even before you did.

You were standing at the small island in your kitchen, leaning on your elbows while checking your email, when Joseph walked through the door. You brightened up immediately and he gave you a shy smile when you noticed he was on the phone. He walked over to you, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek, mouthing a 'sorry' before returning to his phone call and walking into your shared bedroom.

You pouted, leaning back onto the counter, listening to Josephs mumbled voice through the wall. Eventually moving onto the couch, laptop placed on your knees while you sat with your legs crossed, typing out more emails than you could have ever possibly imagined. The end of your work day coming to a close end and when you finally closed your laptop with a huff, Joseph plopped down onto the couch next to you.

"Sorry bout that my love" he said leaning over to give you another kiss on the cheek, arm coming up around your shoulders. "Booking more auditions"

"It's okay" you said quietly, wrapping your arm across his stomach and shifting so you were now leaning your head into the crook of his neck with a content hum. "Do you think we could-"

Josephs phone ringing startled you from his chest, and he sat up to grab it and answer it, giving you another apologetic smile. "One sec" he whispered, removing himself from you and pacing around the kitchen.

Now Joseph was another thing being added to the list of things that was making your day kind of shitty. Annoyed at yourself for even being upset at him for taking a phone call, knowing his phone didn't stop ringing until at least ten at night. He deserved all of the attention and recognition he was getting, all of the shows, and events that wanted him to be apart of, it was everything you could have wanted for him.

But selfishly you just wanted some time with him, no phones, no work, just you and him; and it wasn't something you knew how to bring up without sounding like a petulant child who wasn't getting their way. Unsure if you were over reacting or not reacting enough, wondering if the guilt you felt for wanting time with your partner was rational.

Joesph returned to the couch, sitting at the far end away from you, leaning one elbow onto his knees while he talked on the phone.

From your position, you decided to stretch your legs out a little, pushing your toes up against his thigh earning a slight head tilt and a small smile until he returned his attention to the phone call.

Deciding to maybe push your luck, seeing how he would react you pushed your feet against him again, but a little harder this time. He didn't acknowledge it the way you wanted him to, sitting back into the couch, his legs spreading while he slouched further into the cushions.

Pushing him again he looked at you, a little wildly and you could see the darkness creeping up into his eyes as he looked at you. Pouting with your eyebrows furrowed you pushed at him again, harder until he grabbed your ankle harshly, his single hand almost wrapping around it completely. Your breath hitched when you heard him sigh, not breaking eye contact when he said "So sorry, but I've got to go, we'll set up a meeting tomorrow" and he hung up, turning his phone off and chucking it roughly onto the coffee table.

"Is there something you need from me?" he asked, his thumb smoothing over the exposed skin on your ankle.

"I don't know" you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. "Is there?"

"Well it better be something important, for you to act like a brat about it hm?"

You shrugged, still unable to meet his gaze. "Is it really bratting if it's well deserved?" you mumbled again, your hands moving to toy with the hem of your shirt.

Noticing your body language Joseph softened up slightly. "Out with it pretty girl" he said with a pat on your foot. "And enough with the mumbling"

You sighed, turning your head to glance out the window before speaking. "I just... Miss you" you said quietly, eyes flitting up for only a second to catch his.

"You miss me" he repeated

"I know it's silly but" you hesitated. "I just, we haven't, I don't know" you groaned.

He tugged at your ankle until you looked at him from under your lashes, lips shaped into a softer pout.

"C'mere" he said, with a wave of his hand.

You crawled towards him shyly, straddling his lap so you were facing him, hands coming up to play with the collar of his jacket.

"Green is good" he whispered.

"Green is good" you whispered it back with a nod. The two of you used the stoplight system, when engaging any sort of 'Sub and Dom' type of sex or sexual activities. Both repeating the colours and their meanings to each other while Joseph stroked your hair. With the words and his soothing movements it gave you a familiar routine when getting into subspace, and the act of it helped ground yourself into that feeling and into each other.

"Keep talking, don't bottle it up" he said quietly, hands coming to rest on your waist.

"I feel like I haven't spent any time with you lately, like actual time with you, and I feel like you've barely touched me, or needed me"

"Yellow is slow down" His hand came up to rest on your cheek, thumb sliding across your lip. "F'you keep making that face you're gunna get stuck lookin' like that"

You laughed a little, a small smile creeping onto your lips. "Yellow is slow down"

He smiled "I have an idea that might help"

You looked up at him, eyebrow raised.

"Red is stop" he said making eye contact with you now, both hands holding the side of your face. Your own hands coming up to rest on top of his while you repeated. "Red is stop"

He kissed you quickly on the nose before leaning back "Up" he instructed, pushing you backwards by your hips until you were stood between his legs in front of him. His hands were quick, reaching for the button of your jeans and tugging them down, pulling your panties down with them without a second glance. Pushing them down to your ankles, holding onto your calves while he helped you step out of them. Your hands coming down to his shoulders to keep your balance.

Waisting no time pulling you back onto him, his hands running up your sides under your thin t-shirt, bra long forgotten when your work day ended. Calloused fingers dancing across your skin, thumbs swiping over both nipples before pulling your shirt up, and over your head.

You shifted in his lap, desperate for friction, and almost ashamed at how fast you felt yourself get wet from him just undressing you.

"Sit back a little" He said while reaching down to the front of his pants, undoing the button and pulling down the zipper. Instinctively your hands went to help, heart beating excitedly but he pushed your hands away. "Behind your back"

Bringing both hands behind your back, one hand wrapping around your own wrist to keep your arms in place. You watched with lustful eyes as Joseph finally freed his cock from his pants, shifting underneath you to get more comfortable while he jerked himself in front of you, his warm tip grazing your belly lightly with each stroke of his hand.

"Look at those pretty cock drunk eyes" he cooed and you felt yourself go fuzzy, feeling it engulf each one of your senses. "I haven't even touched you yet and you're barely in there aren't you?" he asked with the tilt of his head, hissing slightly while his thumb swiped across his leaking tip.

You nodded, eyes still on his cock until Josephs free hand came up to tilt your head back up to meet his gaze.

"Words" he said.

"Yes sir" you said quickly, continue to fall into your submission quickly.

He hummed. "So obedient for me aren't you? Come on up, have a seat pretty girl" he said with his hands on your hips, guiding his cock to your entrance, swiping it against your folds a few times causing you to whimper. He laughed mockingly as he helped you slide down the length of him, letting your hand hold tightly on his shoulder for support, knowing the stretch always took you a minute to adjust to it.

Your eyes watered when your breath hitched, goosebumps scattering across your skin as you sank down on him fully, hips coming down to meet his.

"C'mere baby" he said softly, pulling you towards him so your forehead was resting against his chest, while his hands wrapped around you, his hands light on your back as they traced soothing lines up and down your spine giving you a second to regulate your uneven breathing. "Doing so good for me" he praised, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder.

After a few moments you leaned back, brushing the hair out of your face to look down at Joseph, who had a smug and dopey smile playing across his lips. His hand came up to brush away the single tear that had slipped down your cheek, bringing it up to his plump lips and licking it off.

"This what you needed?" He asked, a condescending tone to his voice.

"Yes" you whispered.

"Not so talkative now that you've got my cock filling you up huh?"

You nodded no, eyebrows furrowing as you rolled your hips slightly.

"No, no, no, I didn't say you could move sweet thing, you keep still" he instructed.

"But, Joey-" you whined.

"Don't be greedy" he warned with a look.

You frowned, leaning forward so your forehead was back against his shoulder. It was hard to complain when you felt so good, but you wanted more, you wanted him to fuck you.

"Joey" you whimpered into his skin.

"Shhh, I know baby, just relax I got you" one of his hands came to the back of your head, scratching lightly at your scalp, earning a small hum from you.

"Being such a good girl for me" he praised, dotting small kisses onto your skin where ever he could reach. "My baby was needy all day without me, poor thing"

"N-needed you" you whispered, tears prickling in your eyes. Feeling almost embarrassed of your heightened emotions and sensitivity.

"Yeah I know baby, m'sorry, I got you now" he said reassuringly.

The two of you sat like that for a few minutes, just in silence while you felt yourself slowly melt into Joseph. You swore you might have even dozed off for a second with how blissed out you felt. The cold weather outside seemed to fade away with Josephs body pressed against yours. Warming you inside and out, despite you being completely naked.

You loved these moments that you shared, because it was something only the two of you could give each other. The sense of security, and love flowing between you, and you cherished it.

Naturally after a while you started getting restless, a dull ache starting to form in the pit of your stomach, a burning desire that you needed Joseph to fix.

"Joey" you whined again, attempting to roll your hips once more, to sooth that ache. He didn't stop you right away, giving you a little taste of what you wanted.

"Yes my love?" he cooed, still letting you roll your hips.

"Joey, Joey, Joey" You whispered his name over and over, like it was a prayer, like it was the be all and end all solution to all of your problems. You repeated his name until you were a whimpering mess, tears running down your cheeks, dampening Joesphs jacket underneath you and leaving darkened patches.

He bucked his hips up hard. Only once but it still had a moan being ripped from you with a gasp. Pulling back from him to catch your breath. He brushed the hair away from your face, strands clinging to your damp skin from your tears.

"Oh" He said softly. "Look at you, sweet thing" he said at the desperate state you were in.

"Please" You hiccuped, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Please what?" He asked with a tilt of his head.

"Please daddy"

He melted at your words. Something you rarely called him, and more often than not, unaware when you even said it most times. It only came out when you were fairly deep into subspace, craving that love and security from Joseph and he loved how much trust you put in him. He was truly honoured when you first called him daddy, your cheeks turned crimson and just like now he softened, barely unable to say no to you on any regular daily basis. but when you were looking at him like that, with that sad pout on your lips, and the word daddy being whispered through them, he'd give you the goddamn sun if that's what you asked for.

Your voice was begging, bottom lip trembling as you looked up at him, your pupils blown out, watery and glassy.

He was up quick after that, tucking his hands under your ass and lifting you with him while he carried you to the bedroom, and dropped you onto the bed. Whining when you felt him slip out of you.

"Daddy" you mewled looking over at him.

"Shhh, I know baby, I got you" he said quickly, hands coming up to the buttons on his shirt, tugging his jacket off along with it and moving to his pants.

"Color?" He asked coming back to you, hands on either side of your head, his body shadowing you from the warm light of the room. You felt the length of his cock brush across your stomach, and that burning ache only increased.

"Green, I'm still here" You giggled. "I feel floaty, but I'm here" You whispered. "Promise" Reaching up to stroke his cheek with your hand. He smiled, turning his head to place a small kiss to the palm of your hand. "You still green?" You asked quietly, eyes roaming his face.

He blushed, ducking his head to hide from you while he placed a quick kiss to your collar bone before tilting his head back up. "Very much green baby, thank you for checking"

You hummed, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth and wiggling your hips.

"So impatient little brat" he teased, leaning back onto his knees, taking his cock into his hands and tapping it against your clit a few times causing you to buck your hips slightly.

"Only for you" you said with a small laugh before giving him your best puppy dog eyes. "Kiss?"

He ducked down, gently pressing his lips to yours and you keened into his touch, arms coming to wrap themselves around his neck to bring him closer.

One hand held tightly onto your hip as the other guided the tip of his cock to your entrance and you gasped into his mouth. Pulling away to glance down between your two bodies, watching as he slid his cock back into you with ease.

"Fucking christ" Joseph moaned. "I'll never get used to how good this pussy takes me in- fuck"

His thrusts were slow at first. Each stroke deliberate as he worked you open around his cock, slipping in and out of you without a single ounce of resistance.

"Please" You begged, back arching off the bed and you slipped your hand down between your legs, rubbing messy circles on your slick clit. Joseph smacked your hand away.

"I didn't say you could touch yourself did I pretty girl?" Pulling you closer to him by your hips, he lifted one leg, bending it so your knee was to your chest and started fucking you harder, and deeper, grinning when your eyes rolled back.

"That's it baby, take my cock" he groaned, continuing the brutal pace of his hips. Skin slapping against skin and the we sounds of your pussy echoed around the room.

Jospehs hand came down to rest on your stomach, pushing down gently just above your pubic bone, he swore he could feel the wave of his dick rutting into you under his palm. "Feel that baby? Feel how deep I am?"

"S-so deep" You whined, feeling the hot fire in your stomach spread. "Wanna c-cum" You said opening your eyes, looking up to see Joseph already looking down at you.

"Yeah? Think you deserve it?" He asked snapping his hips into you harder.

"Yes!" You yelled. "Please daddy, I needed you so bad, please let me cum" Tears rolling down your cheeks while your hands grabbed at every part of Joseph you could touch, the sensation burning in your stomach making it almost unbearable to stay still. "Please, please, pleaseeee"

"Pretty girl begging for it, so desperate" He said reaching down between your two bodies to circle your clit, slow and hard, just the way he knew you liked it when he fucked you like this. You cried out, your back lifting once more as that hot heat began to spread across every inch of your skin.

"I'm, I'm, oh my fuck, Jospeh" you huffed, your breathing becoming rapid.

"Come on baby" He encouraged, trying to keep his pace steady to get you there before he came himself. But god was it almost impossible when you were writhing under him like this, fucked out of your mind, crying for him.

"Ah- Shit!" you yelled. Your skin aflame as your orgasm crashed through you, like distance waves rolling against rocky cliffs, and you rolled your hips with those waves of pleasure keeping in time in time with Josephs thrusts as you rode out your high until your legs began to shake.

"Good fucking girl" he groaned, finally able to let himself get close to his own orgasm. Letting go of your leg and pulling both of them to each sides of his hips as he continued to fuck you. His thrusts getting sporadic.  

"Cum for me joey" you whimpered. "Wanna feel you, please"

That was it. That made him snap and he shuttered as he came hard inside you, grunting hot breath into the crook of your neck, slowly rolling his hips into you a few more times until he stopped.

"Insane" he laughed into your skin. "You're fucking insane, I love you" He kissed your neck, your shoulder, the corner of your eye, the tip of your nose, he kissed you until you were giggling under him.

"I like encouraging you" you said softly, voice a little horse.

"You do a good job of it" He said, still a little out of breath. Leaning back up he pulled out of you slowly, kneeling in front of you between your legs, and you almost didn't catch the way he took a thoughtful glance at the way his cum was leaking out of you before returning his eyes to yours. "How you feeling?"

"Better" you smiled lazily, stretching your arms above your head.

"Good" he smiled, hands rubbing up and down your still trembling thighs. "Wanna get cleaned up? Then order some food?"

You nodded, happy tears welling up in your eyes.

"Baby" Joseph said softly, reaching for your hands to pull you up towards him and into a hug. "I'm sorry we haven't had much proper time together lately, we'll work on that yeah?"

"Yes please" you sniffled. "Sorry for breathing about it... Just got all worked up" you said with a shrug.

He laughed. "I know, I'll try to be a bit better with all those phone calls, you deserves some of my attention too" he smoothed your hair out of your face, squishing your cheeks between his hands.

"I love you so much you know?" he said with a quick kiss to your lips.

"I know my Joey" you said dreamily "I love you more though"

He laughed "That's bullshit, and you know it" getting up he scooped you up bridal style into his arms and carried you into the bathroom, placing you onto the closed toilet lit and you squeaked when your butt touched the cold lid.

You watched Joseph flit around, turning the shower on, grabbing towels, forcing a glass of water into your hands. You sipped at it slowly, although you wanted to chug it.

The two of you showered together peacefully, soft touches and kisses full of love as you washed each other down with encouraging words, and many thank yous.

Ending the night cuddled up against each other on the couch, a warm blanket wrapped around you while the two of you munched on shitty takeaway food and laughed at the stupid reality show you decided to watch.

The night was exactly what you needed, tucked up against your favourite human, you couldn't have been more grateful. You looked up at him, leaning so you could place a gently kiss to his jawline.  "Thank you" you whispered, and he smiled down at you, kissing you on the top of the head.

"Thank you" he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

Cheeky one person taglist ehehe: @spiderrrling​ 

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Just Another Day

Hey uhh… I’m not sure if my ask is mighty enough for the god of writing requests to see it but could you write a fic where everyone forgets or is too busy for Roman’s birthday? I’m totally not projecting… but the only way I know how to cope is to hurt my boy, bonus points if it doesn’t end with a surprise party – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: roman's birthday is forgotten and janus and virgil are kinda dicks

Pairings: none

Word Count: 3272

That's the funny thing about birthdays, isn't it?

To everyone else, it's just another day.

Roman wakes up, a smile already forming on his face.

Happy birthday, he thinks as he sits up, patting the red comforter and pillows, happy birthday!

After all, these are his creations, it's only fair that he wishes them a happy birthday as well. Although, he supposes technically their birthday would be when he created them, but it's just easier and more fun if they all celebrate together, right?

He quickly goes through his morning routine, putting on his prince costume and going to his makeup box. What does he feel like today, of all days, should he do the gold sparkle or the red sparkle? Or—oh, even better! The red sparkly as eye shadow and the gold sparkle as an enhancement to his blush! Yes, he's gotten a brand-new blush just for today, Virgil helped him pick it out, he can take a little bit of the gold shimmer and dust it over the top.

He can't stop grinning at himself in the mirror, oh, yes, he will be doing this look more often. He strikes his signature pose and—perfect!

A quick run-through of his fingers and his hair is artfully tousled, double-check that everything on his costume is right, and he's ready to go!

Oh, what is it they'll be preparing? A family breakfast? He does like getting to see everyone in the morning, maybe they'll all be down there already? Or a trip to the Imagination, he may or may not have been brushing up on some of the places he knows all of them love for just such an occasion. Or maybe they'll be baking! He hasn't had homemade desserts in forever, and now that he's started thinking about it, he can't get the taste of fresh chocolate chip cookies out of his head, or fresh flaky biscuits, or lemon bars…

Oh, he's made himself quite hungry.

As he strides to his door, he catches sight of his wide smile in the mirror.

"Happy birthday," he whispers to his reflection, and closes the door behind him.

***

    2.

He quickly rules out a family breakfast together, because the only one downstairs when he reaches the kitchen is Patton.

"Good morning!"

"Oh, goodness!" Patton startles, nearly dropping the spatula he's holding. "Roman, don't do that!"

"Sorry, dear Patton-cake," he says, swooping in to kiss his cheek, "just excited this morning!"

"I can see that."

Some part of Roman registers that Patton sounds far more annoyed than he does endeared, but it's lost in the tidal wave of it's my birthday! "What's on the menu this morning, Pat?"

"Well, I'm making an omelet." Sure enough, the eggy-cheesy-vegetable-y mess in the pan goes splat as Patton flips it over. "I don't know what you're going to have."

Oh. "I don't…really like omelets."

"I know, that's why this isn't for you."

Well, that definitely rules out breakfast. "Never fear! I will devise something else as equally delicious to me to have!"

Only with all of their eggs going into the omelet, there won't be enough left to bake anything else. Unless they've gotten more eggs in between last night when he checked the fridge and this morning, but he doubts it.

"Toast," he says triumphantly as Patton plates his omelet and—goes to leave the kitchen? "The breakfast of champions."

Yeah, Patton barely glances over his shoulder as he leaves, calling out: "Sure is, kiddo, good for you."

Roman frowns as Patton vanishes to the living room, hearing the tell-tale clink of the plate against the table as Patton sits down for his own breakfast. He looks back at the toaster, with its two slices of unassuming bread that are—smoking?

"Shit," he mutters, under his breath so Patton won't hear him, hitting the button and wincing as the two shriveled black husks pop up. He grabs a paper towel and disposes them, before deciding that it's his birthday, he can conjure up an English muffin to toast if he wants to.

"Roman," Patton calls just as he goes to toast it, "you're not summoning food in there, are you?"

"But—"

"We have rules about that, kiddo, you remember what happened last time."

"But it's just an English muffin, and my toast got—"

"Rules are rules, kiddo, it's not fair to everyone else if you get to break it. Besides, I know we have more bread."

But it's my birthday, he wants to say, but he can hear that Patton's already made his mind up, so he sighs and throws the English muffin out too. Oh, well, he'll just have to make sure these slices don't burn.

Chin up, he tells himself as he plates his slightly-less burned toast, it's still my birthday!

***

    3.

Trip to the Imagination is also quickly ruled out when Patton is long gone and no one else has arrived downstairs. That's…well, that's not great, but it is okay; he manages to watch a few of the videos he's been meaning to for a while before he gets up and goes in search of someone else.

Logan, maybe, what about Logan?

With another smile growing on his face, he bounds up the stairs. Oh, they could have a brainstorm! They could bounce ideas off each other just like they used to, they could spend the day watching one of the shows they'd been meaning to watch and critique it—there was this new movie that came out just a few weeks ago that they'd both said related to their individual projects—

By the time he reaches the outside of Logan's door, he's practically vibrating with excitement. He knocks—shave and a haircut, two bits—and waits, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Yes?"

"Logan!"

He thinks he hears Logan sigh but that must just be his chair or his notebook or something. "What is it, Roman, I'm in the middle of something."

"Oh. I, um, I had a question."

"Well, there's no use yelling through the door."

Is that—was that an invitation to come in? He can never tell with Logan anymore. "Can I come in?"

"That was the implication of what I just said, wasn't it?"

Roman carefully opens the door, smiling when Logan looks up—only for it to dim a moment later when Logan looks far more irritated than he'd expected. "Um—hi."

"What's the question?"

"There's, um, that movie that we were talking about came out a few weeks ago."

"That doesn't sound like a question."

"I was wondering if you—if you wanted to watch it?"

"For movie night?"

"N-no, just—just us. I miss talking about things with you."

"You do?" Logan eyes him skeptically over his glasses—his skepticles, Roman calls them in his head and fights not to laugh at his own joke. "When, next week?"

"I was, um, hoping we could do it today?"

Logan sighs, and it's definitely unmistakably a sigh this time, and turns back to his desk. "Roman, I'm busy today. We'll have to work it out later."

"But I—"

"No, Roman. We can watch something tonight at movie night, but I'm afraid I don't have time right now."

"…okay."

Roman closes Logan's door and sighs. Well, that's okay. He can hardly expect Logan to want to change his schedule for him, and he'd thought—well, he was mistaken about whether or not Logan was going to be part of the birthday morning. He'll see him this evening, like he said! That's gonna be really fun.

…really fun.

***

    4.

He runs into Janus and Virgil in the hallway and they both burst out laughing.

He blinks, caught off-guard, a small smile forming on his face as he tries to get the joke, only for Janus to look at him again and he only laughs harder.

"Oh, god, thank you, Princey," Virgil gasps, leaning against the wall for support, "I needed that."

"Needed…what?"

"That." Virgil gestures to his face. "You're funnier than we give you credit for, that's—whoa, that's great."

Janus, who is still laughing, just manages to say the words 'glitter clown' before he's off again, nearly sliding down the wall with how hard he's laughing.

Oh.

Oh.

A sick feeling starts twisting in Roman's stomach as they both start to come down from their laughter, still giggling. Virgil flaps a hand at him.

"You gotta warn me before you do something like that, man, I almost broke a rib."

"Have you been taking lessons from Remus?" A different hurt lances through him at Janus's words. "That's terrifying."

"How did you even do that, did you just shove your face into a bunch of glitter?"

"No."

"What," Janus laughs again, and it's not meant to be cruel—he hopes it's not meant to be cruel but it hurts worse than it did before, "did you wake up and decide to smear glitter all over your face for no reason?"

Then they realize he's not laughing.

"Oh," Janus says first, trying and failing miserably at keeping a straight face—and not just for the obvious reason— "oh, um…did you—did it not come off?"

"Yeah, did you, like, try and wash it off and then it stained? That can happen with some of the less expensive brands—"

"I know that."

"Shit, uh, yeah, I know." Virgil scratches the back of his head. "I, uh, I've got some more heavy-duty makeup remover if you wanna try it—"

"It's fine."

"No, no, I'm sorry, Princey, I shouldn't have laughed so much, I know it was a mistake—" Virgil reaches for him— "lemme help you get it off—"

"It's fine," he mutters through gritted teeth and pushes past them. He doesn't even make it out of earshot before he hears them start laughing again.

He bursts back into his room and storms to the bathroom, ignoring the burning in his face as he fumbles blindly for his makeup remover—which is plenty strong, thank you very much—and scrubs at his face until the cotton pads fall apart. His prince costume is quickly soaked as he splashes water across his face, dripping down his neck and arms to the cuffs and collar. He keeps going, not minding how raw his face starts to feel, not until he knows for damn sure that every little speck of glitter is gone.

Screw them.

Screw them.

It's his birthday, and if they're all going to be absolute jackwagons then he's going to go into the Imagination and enjoy himself all on his own.

***

    5.

When he gets downstairs for movie night and sees them all there, looking at him, for one second, he thinks it might be a surprise party.

Then Logan adjusts his glasses and says: "Roman. You're late."

That last little ember of hope in his chest splutters and dies.

"Sorry," he mumbles, slinking over to the empty spot on the far side of the mattress and taking a pillow, "got distracted in the Imagination."

"Hey, at least you got all that glitter off you."

"Oh, good, I was wondering what that was about."

He wraps his arms around the pillow and tries not to think about how cold to the touch it is. "Yeah."

"Alright," Remus says, clapping his hands, "movie time!"

"What are we watching," Virgil asks, grabbing the remote and beginning to scroll through the various options, "are we going action, funny, mystery, animated…?"

Roman perks his head up a little. "Can we watch Love, Simon?"

"We've already seen that, Princey."

"Yeah, but—"

"What about The Meg?" Remus nudges Logan's side. "The sequel's coming out soon and we could get ready for it!"

"Wait, is that the giant shark one?"

"Yeah!"

"I suppose that's a good idea," Logan says and Roman's grip tightens on the pillow, "to prepare. I can only imagine how ridiculous the science of the sequel is going to be."

"Oh, you and I are gonna have a field day."

Roman's chest burns. "But we've seen that one already too."

"Sequel, Ro-Bro," Remus says without even looking at him, "there's gonna be a sequel."

"You've picked a lot recently," Patton adds, giving him a scolding look, "you can let Remus choose."

"But—"

"But nothing," Janus says smoothly, "Virgil, did you find it?"

"Yep!"

The Meg starts playing.

Logan puts his arm around Remus.

Patton starts playing with Remus's hair.

Janus whispers something that makes Remus chuckle and they start doing one of their inside jokes.

Virgil looks at Remus and smiles softly.

Roman is cold.

During one of the big shark fight scenes, he puts the pillow back on the couch and sinks out.

He curls up on his bed and pulls his red comforter—heh—snugly around his chin. He catches sight of himself in the mirror and pointedly turns away.

Happy birthday, he scoffs internally as he feels the tears well up, what a stupid thing.

***

    +1.

The Imagination remembered it was Roman's birthday.

Of course it did, Roman was its little prince, of course it remembered. It had been so lovely, playing with the not-so little prince again, creating a beautiful magical forest from him to explore, filled with marvelous critters and creatures alike for Roman to play with. And then a dragon, his dragon, his dragon he'd created was he was still a little prince; his dragon flew down and wished him a happy birthday in its own way, taking him flying and curling up around him on the top of the mountain, nuzzling him like he was part of its horde, which he was. But the little prince hadn't understood, hadn't known that was a happy birthday wish, and so when the little prince is crying all on his own, the Imagination takes matters into its own hands.

The door in Roman's room eases open, a soft twinkling sound waking him from his tear-induced dozing. He blinks, brow furrowing at the sight of it, before stumbling from the bed to the gentle light coming from within.

He pushes it open to see the resplendent tree, glimmering and glistening with a single swing hanging from a low branch. All around it spin galaxies, nebulas, cosmic wonders in an inky-purple sea of open sky. His breath leaves him in a rush and the Imagination coaxes him closer.

For you, it whispers as its little prince sits on the swing, marveling at the cosmos around him, all for you, little one, happy birthday.

It dries Roman's tears with soft, warm breeze, the tree branch beginning to gently swing him back and forth. The stars twinkle, the skies fill, and oh, that's better—Roman starts to smile.

All too soon, however, it starts to fade again and the Imagination rushes back—what's the matter, little prince, what's wrong? It's your birthday, you shall want for nothing, what do you need?

It carefully pokes and tests the various emotions radiation from its little prince and…ah. The little prince is lonely.

"Ro?"

Roman turns, eyes widening when he sees Remus. "Re?"

"Whoa," Remus mumbles, taking in the tree and its surrounding wonders, "this is cool as fuck, Roro."

"Um…thanks."

"Seriously, how long have you been working on this? This is—I've never seen the Imagination like this before."

The little prince fumbles for something to say and when he tugs wordlessly on the swing for help, the Imagination obliges. A tendril from higher up in the tree slowly lowers, a single red and gold sparkly cupcake nestled in its grasp. A candle burns atop it, and Roman's breath catches in his throat.

"What's that?" Remus comes up over his shoulder just as Roman reaches for the cupcake. "Whoa—wait, Roro, is it—"

Yes, the Imagination whispers.

"Ro," Remus asks, voice small and soft, "was…was today your birthday?"

"…yeah."

"Fuck," Remus bites out, before storming a few feet away and raising his voice, "we're all fucking horrible, get in here!"

"Language!"

"Remus!"

"Hey, what the hell?"

"Speak for yourself, Remus!"

"No," Remus barks, his hands on his hips as he glares at the various pajama-clad Sides in front of him, "we are all horrible because we just forgot today was Ro's birthday and we're gonna figure out some way to make it up to him!"

"Wait, fuck—"

"That was today? I thought it was next week!"

"Is that—oh, that's why you wanted to spend time with me—"

"Shit."

Roman just sits quietly, unwrapping his cupcake as the Imagination swings him gently back and forth. He seems to like the nebula just off the edge of the cliff, beneath his feet, and so it makes it sparkle a little more, clouds of cosmic dust swirling back and forth.

"Ro," Remus says as the others keep worrying, "I'm really sorry."

"It's fine."

"It's not fine. You went to bed crying on your birthday and none of us noticed. I didn't notice, that's not okay." Remus ruffles his hair. "What can I do?"

"You don't have to do anything."

"But—"

"Look," Roman says, looking up at him, "I don't—having stuff happen because you guys feel bad isn't going to help. I don't want your pity. Or your groveling, whatever you want to call it. There's always next year."

"You shouldn't have to wait a whole year to do stuff you want because we were assholes," Virgil says as the rest of them come closer, "it doesn't—fuck, it doesn't have to be a birthday thing, but do you wanna…I dunno, just schedule some stuff to do with us?"

Roman shrugs.

"You sure?"

"You guys are busy," he mumbles, still toying with his cupcake, "I get it. It's just a day."

"It's not just a day," Patton says, "it's supposed to be your day. If you want to do something—"

"That didn't work out super well for me, did it?" He glances over his shoulder and back down to the cupcake. The Imagination ruffles his hair with another warm breeze. "It's okay. You guys are busy."

"I'm not," Virgil says, "I've got nothing."

"Same here," says Patton, and he hears Janus hum.

"I can spend time with you," Logan starts and Roman just laughs.

"I know for a fact that's not true."

"…it is, actually," Janus mumbles and Roman's shoulders hunch.

"I'd like to be alone, now, please."

"Roman—"

"Now."

And the Imagination obliges, shuttling all of them outside and quickly calling Roman's dragon to come and cuddle him. It comes, chuffing softly and nuzzling his hair, blowing warm air over his bare legs as it curls up next to the swing and rests its head in his lap.

"You were saying happy birthday earlier," he mumbles, stroking the ridges on its head, "weren't you?"

The dragon snuffles in confirmation, nudging the cupcake. Roman laughs, a little strangled, and takes a bite.

"Thank you."

Anything for you, the Imagination whispers as the dragon purrs, anything for you.

Remus is waiting when Roman returns to his room, sitting on his bed in his pajamas with his stuffed Kraken. He looks up when Roman enters and holds out his arms.

"Come cuddle," he says when Roman still hovers by the door, "please?"

"Why?"

"'Cause you're my bro and I love you and you look like you need a cuddle."

"…okay."

Remus is big and warm and soft, and Roman curls up in his brother's arms. The Imagination keeps the galaxies spinning outside his window, his dragon keeping watch as the two of them drift off to sleep.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

[intrepidacious]

a vague prompt for your first time writing for curtis!! 🫶🏻✨️💕

 “i’m wondering why i’m freezing and i see you’ve stolen the entire blanket.”

thawing | c.e.

a/n: believe it or not, this really is just seven sentences. i'm loving my curtis era.

You blink awake slowly at the rough sound of his voice, a low rumble just loud enough for you to hear over the sounds of the train moving; in the semi-darkness, Curtis is reduced to a silhouette, his eyes black shadows, his features hidden, but you can still catch his edges softening as you stir.

"Sorry," you whisper, trying not to hit your head on the top of the bunk in your attempt to quietly untangle yourself from the blanket you’d been sharing at the beginning of the night, which is easier said than done without waking everyone around you.

It’s not that you’re a secret, really, or at least you don’t think so; it’s not like there’s much to tell, anyway, because even though you swear he doesn’t look at anyone else the way he looks at you, whatever’s there between you has never been named, or pointed out, or acted upon. But whenever the night gets particularly cold in the tail section or you dream of sunshine on your neck and soft, solid earth beneath your feet, you sneak out of the cot you’ve been assigned to and make your way down the wagon, and when Edgar lets out a particularly loud snore, you gently tug at Curtis’ sleeve and he lets you squeeze in next to him, crammed between the wall of the train and his own warm body, and he’ll wrap his arm around you as soon as he’s drawn the curtain shut.

There’s something to be said about the way he changes when he’s separated from the rest of the world even by just a flimsy piece of cloth, when there’s no one else’s expectations placed on his back anymore and he holds you like it means something; but you don’t have the words to tell him how it breaks your heart in the loveliest way, and so you don’t say anything at all. You fall into a dreamless sleep while listening to his breaths evening out, and if you press a little closer, then, who’s to blame?

His hands are cold when he pulls the blanket over both of your shoulders again and it makes you shiver and catch one of them with your own, shifting to lay on your side, tracing his rough knuckles and wondering, not for the first time, how things could be, would be, might have been; before you drift off again, you imagine him shift a little closer still.

[brighteststar707]

Fic request for Jumin and White Chocolate for @altaluneslair!

the direction I'd like it to go in is having a date with him for the whole day in cheap and commoner places without travelling by his car~ So, the date may go: travelling by public transport, eating street foods in the market, playing in arcade game center, dining in small gopchang restaurant, attaching love padlocks in Namsan Tower, just strolling around somewhere, or etc.

I'll be honest, I spent a long time watching Seoul vlogs and reading travel pages to write this fic 😅 I tried to get the details and setting right but my skills are limited by the fact that I've never visited Seoul or done any of these things.

That being said, I like how this fic turned out. It's nothing like anything else I've written for Jumin and it was a lot of fun to research and write. I hope you enjoy!

✧ White Chocolate ~ Going on a Date

Jumin and his wife stand side-by-side at a subway station, looking for all the world like any other commuters. Since they arrived at their station, she has been talking to him excitedly about how well-connected they are, that her commute used to be so much longer before she moved into the penthouse. Jumin listens to her talking, content for any information she gives him about her life before. The idea of doing this several times a day is something he can’t imagine. Sometimes, he forgets how different her life used to be, how much has changed for her since marrying him.

The idea for today’s date had started as a simple conversation over dinner just this week. He had stayed back at the office later than usual, so to make it up to her he called in the chef to make them a nice dinner to share when he got home. Over dinner, after talking about their day, their discussion had moved to weekend plans.

“How do you feel about visiting the vineyard? The weather is supposed to be lovely this weekend, we can just relax."

She had nodded slowly, as if in a daze, then her face broke into a good-natured laugh. He looked at her, perplexed.

“Sorry, that sounds wonderful! I didn’t mean to laugh, it’s just that hearing that out loud… it’s still a little bit surreal. Going to the vineyard for the weekend as if it was as easy as crossing town.”

“Probably easier, we wouldn’t have to deal with traffic,” Jumin replies.

“Thank goodness for the plane.”

“So, what would you have us do on our day off?”

“Well, I used to keep a list on my phone of places to go and things to do when I had time off in the city. I haven’t gone through it in a while, but I’d probably have picked some things from there?”

He tilts his head to the side inquisitively. “Like what?”

“Oh, things like trying out new food stalls at the market or playing in the arcade.”

That was what got his attention. He always found himself fascinated by things so common to the everyday person.

“Well, why don’t we do some things from your list? The vineyard can wait until next week.”

And just like that, the idea for their ‘commoner date’ was born. She managed to get him to agree that they’d go out like she used to before, no personal driver, no security team following them (though just a call away and monitoring their locations at all times), no fancy restaurants or exclusive events. She instead took the time to plan out a full day of activities she would have done on a date if she weren’t married to Jumin Han.

Jumin, of course, wasn’t allowed to know about any of them until the day of their date itself.

The subway arrives right on time, and he follows her close behind as they step on. They find a single free seat, and  Jumin automatically stands aside to offer it to her, but she hesitates.

“I admire your chivalry, love, but are you sure you don’t want to sit?”

“Of course I am.”

She doesn’t look convinced.

“Are you doubting my ability to stand?”

“Of course not! If you’re sure, then I’ll take it, thank you.”

She sits down and watches as he stands resolutely in front of her and holds on to the bar (after just a second's hesitation at the idea of the germs). It’s not a bad sight. She convinced him to swap out his usual suits for something more casual and comfortable, so today he’s dressed in black simple trousers and a linen white shirt. His hair is less styled than usual and is floppy and soft over his head instead of combed neatly.

Perhaps she was wrong to worry. He’ll be fine.  

The subway doors shut and it pulls out of the station. The people have crowded closer around each other, and Jumin stands stiffly. The momentum of the train moving makes him wobble dangerously and he receives some dirty looks from the passengers around him.

 “Jumin, I’ll ask you one more time.”

“…Perhaps I should take the seat.”

She slips out of the seat and he sinks into it ungracefully. She stands up opposite him, holding on to the bar a lot more steadily than Jumin was a minute ago. He huffs at the sweet smile she flashes him.

She keeps a mental note of the stops they’re passing and her eyes linger Jumin as he people watches. He has spent so much of his life kept at a distance from people, and she has noticed that he enjoys any opportunity he gets to watch people going about their lives. It’s one of the reasons he likes the charity parties so much, for the wide variety of people he gets to meet.

Finally, they reach their stop and join the crowd of people stepping out and onto the platform.

“So, are you going to tell me what you have planned yet?”

“Well, first of all, I thought I’d bring you out for some of my favourite street food. We can't spend a day out without lunch.”

The entrance to the market is only a few minutes away from the subway exit (and Jumin is starting to understand her earlier excitement at their central location). Entering the market feels like entering another world. Garlands are strung from the ceiling, and the walls are lined with food stalls. It’s almost overwhelming, but he can’t stop looking around.  

Of course, he has known about the food markets in the city for a long time, heard his employees talking about them between themselves and even recommended them to clients looking to experience the city. However, he has never had the chance (or reason) to visit one himself.

It's full of people: groups of friends chattering while in line for food, people clustered around tables and conversing with the salespeople. She doesn’t let go of his hand as she leads him down the line of food stalls and stops at a specific one.

“Oh, Jumin, you have to try this!”

It’s a pancake, by the looks of it, fried in oil. She orders them one each and bring them to the table by the stall. He sits down next to her and she pushes the little aluminium dish towards him to taste.

He takes a hesitant bite and tries to ignore her gaze on him as she waits for his reaction. He concentrates on the pancake instead. It’s crispy and flavourful, and probably has got more oil in it than anything he has eaten recently. It’s delicious, and he tells her as much.

She smiles, satisfied, and starts eating her own pancake. They chat, and he asks her about visiting the market and her favourite foods. As he listens to her speak, he slowly grows less conscious of all the people surrounding him. He isn’t used to being alone – without security – in crowds like this. But despite his face being plastered on magazines and tabloids frequently, it seems like nobody here has recognized him. He even starts to relax a little bit. Clearly, nobody is expecting to see Jumin Han and his wife in the middle of a busy food market in the city.

When they both finish, they get up from the table and keep walking around the market. They stop at one more stall for drinks and keep walking, cups in hand.  

When they leave the market, Jumin is full and content, even excited for their next activity.

“So,” he says, “Are we taking another subway?”

“Nope! This time we’re taking a little walk to our destination.”

And so they do. Hand in hand, they walk down the street. Jumin likes the anonymity being in a crowd of people lends him, likes the security that her hand gives him at the same time.  

His first reaction at the arcade is a sort of shock. It’s dark, full of neon colours and loud noises coming from the machines. It’s overwhelming, to say the least.

They linger in the middle as she surveys the array of games she has to choose from. Jumin stands close to her, eyeing the machines warily. They’re loud and bright, and he isn’t sure what to make of them. Sure, he plays video games at home sometimes (a secret that’s well-kept from the RFA members), but surely this is different. For one thing, his games are not this loud.  

She spots a machine, and as Jumin follows her gaze, he starts to laugh. It’s a car racing game, complete with a steering wheel and gears. He knows what she’s thinking without her having to say anything.

“Come here, Jumin, I want to test out something.”

She ushers him over to the seat, instructs him to get ready to race, and puts a coin in the slot. He sets off, jerking the wheel back and forth with more force than she'd expect from such a machine. She stands behind him so she can watch the screen and cheer him on. For a second, it looks like he’s doing pretty well. That is, before the car slams into the barriers and he gets overtaken by the rest of the racers.  

Jumin doesn’t even wince.

“You’re going too fast to control the car, slow down!”

“The objective of a race is to be the fastest.”

“Yes, but you cannot be the fastest if you keep getting stuck.”

He finishes the race in last place, and she is reminded once again to never let him behind the wheel of a car.

From there, they move on to a few rounds of air hockey (which she ends up winning, despite his best efforts), then a round each on a platformer game (where Jumin actually gets a high score). On their way out, Jumin gets distracted by a little soft toy in one of the claw machines that looks a lot like Elizabeth the Third and insists on trying to win her.

After going through half of their coins, she decides to take over and try her luck. Jumin hovers over her shoulder, giving her instructions and encouragement. After going through nearly the rest of the coins, she gets lucky and catches the little cat toy. She takes it out of the slot and presents it to him like it’s an expensive piece of jewellery.

He holds it gently in his hands, admiring the little toy.

“We’ve freed you now, don’t worry. Just wait until you meet Elizabeth. She’ll love you.”

When they finally leave the arcade, his ears are ringing and the light outside feels too bright. He isn’t sure how Yoosung and Seven manage to visit so often without getting headaches, but he has started to see the appeal of the occasional visit.

He looks to his wife, who is looking out at the street expectantly. He still has no idea what she has planned for the rest of their day. Before he can ask her what she’s looking for, a taxi pulls up to the pavement and she walks towards it to say something to the driver.

“This is for us, Jumin, get in!” She must have ordered the cab when he was busy at the claw machine.

“Isn’t this cheating?” He asks after slipping into the backseat.

“Well, let’s call it a grey area. It’s getting close to rush hour and I don’t think that’s an experience you’re missing out on.”

He agrees.

She refuses to tell him where they’re going next, so he can only guess by trying to identify the streets they’re passing. Luckily for him, their next destination is one he recognizes.

They step out of the taxi and find themselves at the Namsan Tower cable car station. This is another city landmark he has often recommended to business partners, and one he often hears about from others.

He already knows he’s going to like this part of their date. They buy their tickets and wait for their turn to board (he prefers this to the subway). Once they've boarded their cabin, he holds onto one of the railings and she wraps her arms around him for support. He puts his arm over her shoulders and holds her close as they watch the city grow smaller and smaller from the windows.

It's definitely better than the subway.

The sun has started to set by the time they reach one of the viewing platforms. The city stretches out beneath them, but the view is different to the kind Jumin sees from his office. At work, it sometimes feels like he can reach out and touch the city with his fingertips. Even worse, sometimes it feels like the city below is reaching up for him to pull him down to them. As much as he loves his job, the people it sometimes brings to him are the kind who would do anything for a taste of his world. They both know that better than others.

From over here though, he feels untouchable. It’s calming, to have it at a distance for once, instead of being in its centre.  

“I have one more surprise for you, Darling.”

She wriggles free from his arms and starts rooting through her bag. She finally pulls out a padlock. It has their initials engraved on it, and under it a small inscription.

He takes it from her hands and examines it carefully.

“You had this made?”

“I had it engraved for us on short notice. I thought we could do one better than the ones the souvenir shop offers.”

He chuckles. "It's perfect."

They take their time looking for the perfect place to hang it. Walking around the perimeter of the viewing platform, stopping to admire the view as the sun slowly sets, then finally settling on a place.

It’s on the outside of a railing, on top of layers of other locks (a hundred other promises that were made before them) that they choose to fix theirs. They close it together, hands over hands, and then take a second to admire it.

The sun has almost set, but in the soft light, they can still make out the little engraved inscription.

Dedicated to old sunsets and new experiences, I'd follow you anywhere

[cobiehaven]

Painting with Our Hearts — Lee Juyeon

SYNPOSIS; you despised your best friend for asking you to mentor her in the field of dating when you yourself hated the idea of being tied down to a man. but soon enough, she got the hang of it without the usage of your advice. so much so that her relationship escalated with a ring of engagement! in only 6 months? you know you should focus on your studies and get ready for graduation in dreams of starting your new life, fresh and problem free, but you face something much more scary than freedom. the side effects of this forbidden relationship you have fallen into with a man who you know you shouldn’t love..

PAIRING; artist!juyeon x fem!reader

GENRE; drama, fluff, angst

WORD COUNT; 4.7k

TAGS/WARNINGS; collage au, art major au, strangers to lovers, lowkey obsessive!juyeon, reader hates basically everyone, cheating (im sorry ily juju), strong language, tension, mentions of starving for weight loss, a bit suggestive, mentions of engagement, mention of starting a family, legal drinking, lying and betrayal, arguing, broken friendship, lowkey didn’t know where i was going with the ending, procrastinated wayyy too long on this so probably ass 😀.

AUTHORS NOTE; i felt awkward writing this because never in a million years would i imagine juyeon cheating but then again it was for the sake of the fic so enjoy.

FLASHBACK

“don’t you think you’re going a little too overboard? at this rate, you’re going to gain some kind of disorder,” you sat with your chin resting in the palm of your hand as you watched your best friend, feng, continue to whine and complain about her body.

you swore you had never seen her whip her head around so fast. “what?! overboard? psh, as if,” she waved off but was awkwardly cut off when a loud rumble erupted from her stomach. you raised a brow, her expression lowering to a pout.

“okay, and what about it?” she stuck her chin out at you.

“you’re going to get sick.”

“so? it’s worth it.”

your eyes trailed from head to toe and pressed your lips together with tension. how could she possibly care more about her image over her health?

“what are you even doing this for? doesn’t your rich family already force you to keep a healthy diet?” you asked, lifting your head out of your hand and instead, leaning back in the comfort of your chair. “which makes it even easier to loose all of this fat!” it was silent for a moment as your friend took her sweet time to check herself out in the long body mirror she had behind her overly decorated door. “anyways,” you waited for her go on with her sentence. “you know that boy that sits in the back of your arts class?”

“oh my god.”

“no, listen!”

“i’m leaving.”

“please!” she pouted.

you still sent her the most uninterested look known to man. but with one hard eye roll and loud groan, you sunk down into your chair. “go on.”

“good!” her emotion changing within seconds. “i heard he likes girls on the smaller side. the ones with small waists and tiny faces! minjoo told me so last week! i’m setting goals for myself,” she shot her brightest smile and swayed around her room as she went on and on about the likes and dislikes she had heard from others about this boy. this boy that had been the talk of the school since he moved into the fine arts department. the exact one that had many other girls soothing over him when he didn’t even do as much as even look their direction. sure, he was good-looking but was that really all anyone needed to fall head over heels for someone?

“minjoo? as in the minjoo that supposedly dated and dumped juyeon after 2 days because he was too ‘quiet’?” you raised your brow again, this time tilting your head down in a ‘you’ve got to be joking’ kind of way. “yes! her!” feng smiles. “as if two days is enough time to learn all about someone’s likes, dislikes, turn-ons, turn-offs!” you sighed. “have you even talked to him before?”

feng shook her head which only had you rolling your eyes for probably the 5th time this morning.

“i was planning on asking you to help me approach him..?” she tangled her fingers together in front of herself, shrugging up her shoulders in a pleading manner. “i know it’s a stretch to think i have a chance with him but please!” she begged. “why me?” she knew how much you hated things like this. much less men. you’d never be able to understand them. “because you love me~!” she shot you the biggest smile as she took your hands into hers. you gave her a playful and shocked expression, “ain’t no way you just pulled that card on me.”

her glued on poker face seemed to prove you wrong.

pushing her away, you stood up and crossed your arms in front of her and with one deep sigh, “what do i get out of this?” you asked.

payment was expected for hard and excruciating work.

“i’ll do all of your house work including running hall errands for you during the school day for a month!”

“two months.”

“a month and one week?”

“listen, i’m getting involved with a man for you.”

“okay okay!! a month and a half.”

“cool, now go get me a soda.”

“what?! but i said during the school day!” she complained while you wandered over to the bed. falling down into it with a satisfied grunt. “and technically we have class in 30 minutes, so you better get the drink quick so we can walk there in less than a hurry,” you replied which had her shuffling her way to the door.

PRESENT TIME

you didn’t really know why you agreed to this. why you didn’t just gather up everything in you to just tell her no and get on with your life. it would have been easier for you. without feng around, it was awkward to see juyeon’s face around. neither of you went out of your way to say hi to each other but you could feel his eyes staring into the back of your head during classes.

without feng, you would have no business with juyeon at all.

so why was he the one to invite you to your departments celebration party for winning 1st in competition during winter break? saying that he needed to discuss something with you in private?

especially when he was already dating your best friend?

what exactly was he in need of telling you so badly?

sucking up a large sigh, you swung open the door to the korean bbq place everyone had agreed to meet at. you were a little surprised by the amount of people this place agreed to let in but it seemed to be the class presidents last resort since many in the class were still too young to go clubbing. luckily, not everyone showed up.

“y/n!” a familiar voice called, gesturing you over to the table.

you sat at the end, not wanting to be squished in between anybody who reeked of alcohol and grease. you insisted on getting a table for yourself but the staff wouldn’t let you as they were already finding a hard time serving your department as it was. maybe it would have been easier to just not come. while juyeon was the one to invite you, he didn’t seem to be anywhere around the tables that were already set.

“hey, where’s juyeon?” you asked the girl sitting next to you. “i think he said he was running a bit late.”

speaking of juyeon, your head whipped around when you heard your department cheering for his arrival. he looked winded and messy coming in through the door but he shot a happy smile when everyone was glad to see him. you rolled your eyes at how obnoxious everyone was being.

unfortunately, you had to give up your edge seat and slide further down the booth for him to sit down. it was the only space that was left.

yeah, you really shouldn’t have come.

claustrophobia was overcoming you as you could feel juyeons cold pressing against your side. “i’m glad you could come,” he turned towards you. “i’m glad you could come late,” even without looking his way, you could feel his expression falling into a frown.

it was silent amongst you two. you really didn’t have much to talk about with him considering you only knew each other through feng. only chiming in when the guys across from you both had interesting things to comment on. the reek of alcohol became stronger as you started to get more and more out of it with each sip.

it went on like that for a while before your attention was caught by the girl next to you suddenly banging her hands on the table. “soojin?” you called out her name over the booming music. “are you okay?” you asked half-slurred. before you knew it, she had turned towards you and spilled whatever she had eaten that night all into your lap. the guys around the table all backing away with disgust and shock. but you were paying no attention to them and only at the pool of vomit seeping through the thickness of your clothes. your eyes trailed up to the girls in front of you before she slurred some “im sorry”’s before slumping back against the booth.

“oh my god, i think im going to throw up,” one of the guys across from you slapped his hand over his mouth. to which the other guy had yelled out an abundant of curses for him not too.

you were still in shock. you could feel the warm liquid seeping far enough to touch your bare skin, that alone making you want to wake the girl up and sock her right in the nose for putting you in such a disgusting situation. if it wasn’t for your hazy mind, you probably would have. suddenly, you felt a pair of hands on your legs making you nearly jump out of your seat, but you just tensed when you realized it was juyeons, scraping the chunks off of your pants with a thick handful of napkins. it wasn’t long before he grabbed your hand and dragged you to the mens bathroom, not even having the mind to argue with his actions.

“im sorry, y/n.”

was he apologizing for touching you? or forcing you into the bathroom with him? or maybe inviting you to this overly crowded korean bbq?

“i have spare clothes in my car. do you think you’re okay enough to wait here while i go get them?” he asked, looking into your hooded eyes. “im not fucking five. i don’t need your help,” you shrugged his protective arm off of you and headed for the door. “wait!” juyeon grabbed your wrist, making you whip your head around. “you have shit all over you. please, let me help you.”

technically he did get you into this situation. even if he didn’t know something like this was going to happen.

“fine. just hurry,” you huffed. “its already embarrassing enough just standing here in front of you like this..” you mumbled as your arms coiled around your body.

just as so, juyeon didn’t take long. he came back to hand you a change of clothes, even adding a pair of socks to the pile. patiently waiting outside the family stall as you took your sweet time changing, you grumbled with each peel of damp clothing off of your body.

“juyeon?” you called.

“yeah?”

“can you hand me a wet paper towel?”

within seconds, you shuffled over to take the wet cloth out of juyeon’s hands from under the stall door. “thanks.” it took you a while to wipe yourself down, trying not to stumble over every time your mind started to give in to the heavy alcoholic haze overcoming you but soon enough, you flushed the paper down the toilet and shrugged on the loose fitting clothes into your body.

“please, let me take your clothes home and wash them for you,” he insisted the moment you unlocked the stall door. his eyes locking on his oversized clothes quite literally engulfing your figure. it took you a moment to register his staring, much less his words. but once you did, you just scoffed and crossed your arms over yourself. “stop staring you perv,” you fixed a hardened gaze on him. “forget it, just, thank you for the clothes.”

“wait!” he stopped you after you had pushed past him.

“ugh, what now?”

“how are you getting home?”

“why do you care?” you asked with a raise of your brow. “because if you plan on driving home, you’re way too drunk to be driving,” he exclaimed. “its fine, ill just take a taxi or something,” you said before rushing out of the bathroom, this time not giving him the time to stop you. “oh? y/n? why did you just come out of the boys- hey!” you pushed past your classmate rudely just to get out of there. you could care less about the many voices calling for you, not wanting you to leave so soon. you were done with ‘parties’.

you just wanted the embarrassment to stop.

the next few days seemed to go by normally. along with the next month or two. nothing out of the ordinary seemed to happen and primarily just went back to your daily school work and boring life. feng and juyeon were together per usual and you stayed silent for a lot of their interactions. the only times you seemed to see juyeon without feng around was whenever he happened to pass by you in the halls or in class but other than that, it became a common occurrence that juyeon joined in on you and feng’s time together. it annoyed you a lot, especially when feng never gave you the option to leave when she wasn’t even paying attention to you in the first place.

actually, the annoying part wasn’t the two of them together, necessarily, it was more so juyeon that wanted to get your attention outside of that time that started to get you annoyed of the times when he was with you and feng. for example, the multiple times he begged you during class to lend your notes to him, or the times he asked you to do the bare minimum like open his milk carton for him during lunch, or even the time he made you walk 5 blocks down the street during a heatwave just to return his clothes to him while he was working.

as much as you hated him for wasting your time, the more you started to have less of a reason to want to hate him with the efforts he made in occupying your time.

but of course, at the end of the day, he still belonged to your best friend.

you found it easier to block them out with the help of your headphones and laptop. your music and videos was much more worth it than some guy and his obsessive girlfriend.

oh, you mean, your best friend.

you sat quietly as you were trying your best to block out the distracting noise coming from the two of them, focusing more on your homework that was giving you more of a headache than their love language. you brushed it off for as long as you could before you sighed and stood up, the scrapping of your seat against the floor made feng crank her neck towards you.

“where are you going?” she asked. “home, i can’t focus here and my head is killing me,” you replied, packing up your stuff as the enormous pile of books weighed you down everyday.

you failed to notice juyeon’s visible concern.

“oh okay,” she shrugged.

“feel better.”

you and juyeon shared eye contact with each other for a few seconds before heading off. you didn’t know why but something about that sounded like it had much more of a deeper meaning than just a get well wish.

when you got home, you were relieved with how still your house was. it started to subside your headache. but your relaxation was cut short when you felt a buzz in your pocket.

juyeon:

that’s quite the amount of stress you have packing on

you:

what?

juyeon:

the books

you’ve been working non-stop on papers for the past three days, you really deserve a break

you:

i’ll be fine, it’s nothing to worry about

you stared at the messages for a few seconds before realizing he probably wasn’t going to say anything else. putting your phone to your side, you sat up on your bed with a deep sigh. “i’ll probably just take some pain killers and work some more..” you mumbled to yourself, rubbing your palms over your tired eyes.

another buzz caught your attention.

juyeon:

meet me in 10 in the loft.

the period scared you.

15 MINUTES LATER

you arrived in the loft as told, figuring that there would be no reason to ignore it when you knew he’d probably just come to your house if you didn’t answer.

he was really confusing sometimes.

“juyeon?” you called.

the lights were still off. had you gotten there too early? surely not, a walk from your house to the studio was 15 minutes, not 10.

“juyeon, this isn’t funny. let’s just make this quick.” you called again, this time stating your conditions. you were about to get fed up with waiting before you suddenly felt something cold splash onto your back, making you yelp and jump forward, whipping your head around in the plain darkness. you could see a dark silhouette and quickly made it out to be juyeon’s slender figure. “what the fuck?!” you cursed before the lights were flashed on. your eyes having to take a moment to adjust to the sudden change.

he was laughing. crying, even. looking at yourself, you realized he had thrown white paint on you seeing as he still had the bucket in his hands.

you were not going to let him get away with this.

“you little shit,” you cursed again before taking all of your anger and grabbing the first bucket you saw and prying open the top, chasing juyeon around the room and successfully whisking the liquid onto him. you both when back and forth, the challenge becoming so much that you soon started to forget about your troubles, about your work, about feng and even the ones deep down that you didn’t want to admit.

this was the most fun you’ve had in a long, long, time.

“please! have mercy!” juyeon cried with added laughter as you continued to pour, purple, paint onto him. “you’ve brought this upon yourself,” you laughed before he tried pushing you away from him, somehow fully knocking you over in the process and bringing himself down along with you.

he shielded your fall with his hands behind your back and head but once he came to realization as to what position you were in, his eyes widened and his whole body tensed up. yours did the same.

it was silent. the short few moments of you both having fun was turned into long and breathtaking moments. not to mention how close he was to you, what it felt like to have his fingers tangled in your hair, what it felt like to hear both of your hearts beating the same cadence in this silent room. you watched as his eyes trailed from yours, down to your lips, and then back up. the look he was giving you was almost inviting but also scared.

you really didn’t know how to describe this feeling.

in a panic, you broke the moment to trail your hands up the tiny space between you both to quickly smear what paint you had left on your hands. the colors mixing into his caramel tone and making him not any less beautiful than he already was.

maybe you were starting to see what girls saw in this man.

“hey..!” he whined, smacking your hands off of him. he squinted his eyes at you challengingly, but just gave you a sly smirk instead.

it was hard to believe this was the same timid guy from a few days ago.

helping you to your feet, he ran his fingers through his dry but, at the same time, wet, hair. “how do you feel?” he asked.

“definitely better, no more headache.”

“that’s good. that was the goal,” he smiled and fixed himself up. just as you were about to straighten your clothes, you paused and looked up at him. “wait, you brought me here just for that?” you asked.

“don’t get mad. i was just trying to-“

“i’m not mad. it’s just.. i thought you wanted to talk.”

“about what?”

you rolled your eyes at his stupidity.

“about whatever it was you wanted to tell me a couple months back? you never ended up telling me.”

it took him a second to try and think back on it, but eventually he did.

“yeah because you left before i could!” he protested. you giving him yet another eye roll. “well i’m here now so what was it?”

he hesitated. you could tell by the way he was looking around at anything but you that the same timidness from before was back.

“juyeon?” you called out to him, awaiting his answer.

“feng proposed to me.”

the silence was long. extremely long. nothing could express the amount of shock and unknown pain that you were overcome with. you swore you felt your heart sink down into the pit of your stomach.

“what..?” you refused to believe it.

“she proposed to me. a week ago. after 5 months of dating and she’s waiting for my answer on our 6th month anniversary.”

“which is when?”

“…today.”

you wanted nothing more than for the world to open up from underneath you and swallow you whole. what was feng thinking? what were you thinking? how could you get flustered over some boy who you barely know? especially one who was about to get engaged to your best friend. one that you helped your best friend get together with!

“well, what are you going to say?” you asked, you could feel your blood starting to boil with anger. but not knowing where exactly it was coming from. but you tried your best to sound calm and collected as your biggest fear was probably him finding out that you were lowkey crushing on him, this way.

“i don’t know yet,” juyeon murmured. “i was going to ask you.”

“why do you need to ask me for advice on your own personal problems?”

“because.”

“because?”

“because!”

“i’m not following.”

you could tell he was starting to get riled up. “because i’m not sure if i actually like her!” he screamed. to your own shock, you could tell he was holding in those exact words for a long while.

“so.. you played her?” you weren’t sure wether to feel relieved or pissed off about that. “or i guess.. playing her?” you switched to present tense.

“i don’t know..” he ran his hands down his face in frustration. “i just.. im not sure if i’m ready for marriage? but knowing her, if i reject her, she’ll think i don’t love her anymore and i don’t want to have that sort of confusion within our relationship all of the time. she already thinks i talk to you too much,” he sighed.

feng thinks he talks to you too much? since when has she ever been around to see the both of you have a consistent conversation other than about school work?

whatever, you didn’t want to worry about that right now. you had a boy stressed out of his mind right in front of you. “juyeon, it sounds more to me that you’re just in a toxic relationship.”

it was silent for a moment as all he did was just stare at the ground but as much as he didn’t want to agree with you, he knew you were right. “what should i do?” he asked. but he already knew what your answer was going to be… and you didn’t want to give him that kind of heartbreak. “do what you feel is right,” you said softly. you hesitated but after a while, you snaked your arm around his back and rubbed light circles onto his shoulder blades. he lowered himself to your height and buried his face into your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you into a deep hug. he didn’t cry, but you could tell he was confused and hurt. this had been bothering him for quite some time.

cutting the relaxing hug short, you were met with his eyes as your own filtered with confusion. “are you feeling better now?” you asked. “no,” he replied. as you were about to open your mouth to respond, he quickly furthered your confusion as he captured your lips into a soft kiss. your eyes growing wide in utter shock as you didn’t know what to do with your hands. much less your anything else. this was the first time you had ever kissed someone. or.. be kissed by someone. nonetheless, with your little knowledge from the various kdramas you had watched in your time, you closed your eyes and tried to act like you knew what you were doing. luckily, juyeon sensed your embarrassment and swiftly led your arms around his neck as he did all of the work for you. leading the kiss into soft multiple ones that had you getting the flow down instantly. after about a minute or so, you broke away, or maybe he did. you couldn’t tell with how hazed your mind was right now.

“are you.. feeling better now?” you asked for the second time.

you didn’t get an answer.

“did you have a talk with feng?” you asked juyeon as the two of you walked into class together, having conveniently run into each other in the hallway. “i don’t want to talk about it,” he sighed out, though it sounded more of like a groan. luckily for you, you sat right in front of juyeon so you didn’t have to cut the conversation short.

“you should just be honest with her, it’s the better option.”

he agreed yet he still looked so troubled.

“don’t tell me you were planning to do it through text-“

“do you really think that lowly of me?”

well… considering he got himself into this whole mess…

“please don’t just bare through it when you know it won’t work out. that’s possibly the worst thing you could do,” you sighed, reaching your hand out to place on top of his in a comforting way. but he snatched his hand away with such force that it had you even more confused than before.

did he not want to be around you? if so, then why did he kiss you?

“am i just that bad at kissing?” you said half-heartedly but you were immediately shut down by juyeon who hushed you. “don’t say it so loud!” he whisper-yelled at you. you understood that he didn’t want anyone to know that he technically cheated on his girlfriend—which you still weren’t sure if you were happy or upset about—but he didn’t have to reject your comfort when you tried to give it to him for his sake. “then what is it?” he rubbed at his temples, “y/n, i think she already knows.”

juyeon sighed and stared down at his fingers that sat in his lap. when he felt like he could muster up the courage to tell you more, he glanced around one time just to make sure no one was within close enough range. “today, before school, she told me that as soon as we got married with our parents approval.. she wanted to move abroad and start a family. she kept going on about how much of a future she wanted with me and i wasn’t sure how to respond to it all. i got so stressed out that i ended up snapping at her and walking away.” he shifted awkwardly in his seat as if he was waiting for the moment his girlfriend would walk in through that door despite not sharing a single class together. “she didn’t chance after me like she usually does when we have arguments,” he said.

for as long as you knew feng, she had always been an overbearing person. she was a very ‘up in your face’ kind of girl and that’s what made people either really like her or really hate her.

hearing about how she bombarded juyeon with such a wide topic, you could only imagine how he must of felt.

luckily, she knew her place when it came to conversations with you. it was a blessing.

“that’s good, though!” you exclaimed. “it would make it easier for you to break it off.”

“i just cant stop thinking about what she’d say if she found out i kissed her best friend on the day of our 6 months,” he sighed and cupped his hands over his face, leaning forward onto the desk.

your attention was caught when you felt a buzz in your back pocket. pulling out your phone, you were greet by a message from your best friend. except.. maybe said best friend, didn’t want to be best friends anymore.

“oh no..” you trailed off.

“what?” juyeon asked, peeking at you from between his fingers.

you hesitated for a long minute but eventually flipped your phone around enough for him to view the screen.

.

.

.

feng:

[sent attached photo]

once a cheater, always a cheater.

fuck you both.

proof read by @hwasluvr

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