#it until you break so that it’ll get fed.

[quietwingsinthesky]

can u tell that perhaps i have thought too much about supernatural to the point where my own explanations for the inconsistent lore and characterization have bled into my memories of the show. is it obvious. i hope its not too obvious.

[nachosncheezies]

Yoooo, so I said I was taking a break, but, the words! I saw the prompt fly across my dash earlier and I am not the one who received it and I do not know who sent it but this is the kind of thing that happens when I attempt menial labor! So, with apologies for stealing and without any proofreading, here's a little M+S "pilot wedding" ficlet.

~~~~~

They were going to pay a visit to Billy Miles. They were drenched, completely soaked through from the cold graveyard rain. Scully sat shivering audibly in the passenger seat. 

Mulder pulled off at the diner. “Our rooms and our clothes are gone. At least it’ll be warm,” he said.

The graveyard-shift waitress took one look at them and took pity. “You look like a coupla drowned rats,” she remarked. “Think we got some towels around here somewhere.” 

Soon they sat across from each other in a booth, stripped down to their trousers and tees, two cups of coffee steaming on the table between them. The waitress had scrounged up a pair of blankets from somewhere too, and they each wore one around their shoulders. Scully’s hair still clung heavily to her ears and down her neck in damp clumps. For all that, she was smiling.

"I gotta say, Scully, I've had a couple different partners over the years, but you're not like anyone the Bureau has tried to send me." 

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "How's that?" she asked.

He glanced both ways and then leaned forward across the table, beckoning her closer. She leaned forward too, putting her face close to his. He glanced around conspiratorially one more time.

"You're fun," he whispered. She straightened and blinked at him several times, unspeaking. He wondered if he'd been a little too inappropriate, until she once again burst out in the goofiest cackle he'd ever heard. It was even better without the background din of the pouring rain. 

Pleased, he relaxed as he sat back against the bench seating. "You're a hell of a lot smarter, too," he complimented.

"Well then it's a good thing I'm here, because I don't think Chief Blevins is going to accept 'alien mind-control implants' as an explanation for those murders or the graverobbing," she teased.

"Well they’ve sent you for a reason. If anyone can find some other rational explanation, Scully, I'm sure it'll be you"

"Thanks," she smiled, playing with a stir stick in her coffee.

"...Bet ya won’t, though."

She pursed her lips. "What's the wager?"

He had been teasing, rhetorically, but decided to see where it might go. "Loser buys lunch when we get back to DC?"

She sized him up over the rim of her cup as she took a long and thoughtful sip. She smirked as she put it down. "Deal," she said.

Hours later, dry and fed, he made to lead her from the diner. “Mulder?” she called from just behind him. He stopped with the door halfway open and looked down at her. "You're fun, too." He caught the briefest glimpse of her cheeky grin as she brushed past him, ducking under his arm, and led him out into the humid morning.

~~~~~

Another lunchtime in the diner, and she was blushing furiously.

"I had no idea crackpots were your type," he breathed, with overexaggerated delight. 

She rolled her eyes at him. “I only meant that… if I were to settle down some day, I’d want him to be fun, and- and engaging to talk to. It’s hardly on my radar now. I’m just getting started with my career, I haven’t taken much time for that sort of thing.”

Mulder shrugged, leaned back and slung his elbows over the back of the bench on either side of himself. "Whaddya say we raise the stakes?" 

"Huh?"

"On our bet."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Marry me."

She dropped her chin and her brows flew up and together in the most incredulous expression he'd ever seen. It was almost worth the risk just to see that face. "Uhhh huh," she said, drawing out the first syllable.

"Well, you wouldn't have to worry about finding a 'guy like me' then." He threw up air quotes.

"And what do I get if I win?" 

"Bragging rights?” She arched one brow at him again. “I'll tell everyone that you run the department….” She pinned him with a look that suggested he must be joking. “...And you can have whatever you want. And I mean anything. Blank check. If it’s mine, it could be yours. You don't even have to decide today. Non-transferrable, no expiry. Just let me know when you figure it out."

She was delirious with exhaustion. No, that wasn't enough. There was definitely something in the water in this town. She was compromised. That was the only explanation for why her mouth started moving before her brain in that moment. "I won't do it in a church," she said.

He blinked at her, a little stunned that she was testing his bluff. "I'm an atheist," he hedged.

"I'm Catholic," she answered.

"Right, so behind God's back, then."

She narrowed her eyes at him, and his heart hammered in his chest as he realized that she might actually, really be considering calling him on it. As he realized that he might actually, really want her to. "Annulment will remain on the table at all times," he offered, just to see what she would do.

She straightened, turned her torso a little bit sideways, as if having her shoulder angled partway between them might allow her a better perspective on his character and sanity. She continued to squint at him.

"You're on," she finally said, and he wasn't sure whether the ground fell out from beneath him, or whether it had launched him into space.

~~~~~

She probably could have found a more comprehensive explanation for it all, but the truth was, she didn't try that hard. Definitely something in the water.

They went to the magistrate on their last afternoon in Oregon. She looked at him and wondered who the hell carried their birth certificate around with them on a case, before reminding herself that she did, too. He looked at her and wondered who this gutsy little firecracker was, if she might actually be as crazy as he was. They looked at each other and wondered if either one would blink.

Neither did.

They both left town hall with a chaste kiss on the cheek and a deep, newfound respect for the nerves of absolute steel on the person beside them.

In DC, he accompanied her to HR and then to Bureau's legal advisory department so she could make the customary arrangements recommended for all new field agents. Neither made mention of their new marital status. His name was added beside her mother's as an emergency contact, her name was added beside his father's. He witnessed her living and final wills, the latter leaving whatever she had at time of her passing to her mother, with one other line reading "For Fox W. Mulder, Moby Dick." He didn't ask.

He went to his own lawyer the following week, and updated his will to bequeath her an amount that could not be called paltry, but which he deemed not to be overly extravagant either, and a sealed note that just said, "Don’t lose that laugh."

[axigailxo]

Pretty Like You | PJM (2)

part two: parties and pilates

series summary. where jimin is jealous of the beauty that is you, writes about it, and falls apart when you accidentally read it.

pairing. feminine!jimin x reader

rating. M | 18+ |

genre. enemies to lovers, feminine!jimin, self hatred au, slight identity crisis, self love journey, smut, sub! jimin, angst, fluff, heartfelt

w.c. 4.8k

warnings. heavy descriptions of self hate and self abuse later into the story, please be advised. mention of “unaliving” in this chapter.

ch summary. where oc convinces jimin to go to a frat party in an attempt to break him out of his shell

**this is part 2 of my series pretty like you, not a stand-alone

series masterlist | <-previous | next ->

“And then despite it all, she asked if I wanted to talk, can you believe it?”

It’s been a couple of days since the incident at the art room, and Jimin can’t stop ranting about it like it’s new news. He still hasn’t texted you, and it’s not like he could since he doesn’t even have your number. He could get it from you in class, but thats a little hard when he’s on a streak of skipping.

After you suggested to help him embark on a self love journey, Jimin has been so damn confused. He doesn’t know whether to jump at the opportunity, rot away in embarrassment that you read his journal, or be slightly offended that you’d suggest help when he thinks he’s just fine. Kind of.

All options are tempting, nonetheless.

Daisy, Jimin’s cat that is currently victim to listening about what happened for the hundredth time, lifts up off her soft body and saunters out of his room. What? She’s fed up.

Jimin, who is suffering from her rude and sudden exit, huffs as he debates whether he should follow up about that whole thing with you. Because despite all his options, he’s leaning more towards just avoiding you at all costs and pretending that situation never even happened.

Except he’ll remember. It’ll haunt him and his thoughts every night until he finally just addresses it.

And so that’s why he should go to class today. Maybe. Jimin squints his eyes as he contemplates and considers, ultimately deciding that coffee is the first step that should be taken. Especially since it’s way too early to have a crisis, that can wait for later. Per usual.

Making his way to his Keurig, he pops a peppermint mocha flavored pod into the top compartment followed by a little water in another compartment until he’s clicking a button to brew it.

“So now you like me,” Jimin scoffs as Daisy rubs against his ankle, excited for Jimin to give her breakfast.

Commanding to the manipulation of the feline, Jimin grabs a can of cat food out of a cupboard, internally scolding himself for being nice and buying her the expensive kind again.

Although, Jimin can’t blame Daisy for being fed up with all his predicaments. He would be too. However spilling to Daisy is much more acceptable than telling it all to his human best friend, Taehyung.

Jimin has already thought about the fact that if he spends time with you, whether it be for a self love journey or not, that’d be breaking some sort of bro code with Tae.

You’re Taehyung’s crush, and Jimin respects that. Plus it’s not like Taehyung has to worry, you’re out of Jimin’s league anyway.

However that hard on be got the other night still baffles him. He’s narrowed it down to being that you’re just attractive and he’s just a gross horny man. But not even that sounds right.

Jimin has thought about inviting Taehyung to every outing you may have together, but he can’t. How in hell would he explain to his best friend that the whole reason he’s seeing you is so that he can learn to accept himself and flaunt that feminine side of him? Let alone explain to him that you read his journal full of how much he envies and adores you at the same time. He can’t. More specifically, he won’t. Taehyung doesn’t need to meet that side of him, Jimin thinks. It’s for the better.

Jimin ponders for a second, and he hates himself for pouring his coffee into a travel cup and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He figures since he’s already keeping a secret from Tae, one more shouldn’t hurt. Plus he can’t avoid you forever. There’s really only one thing to do now.

“Eat up Daisy, I’ll be back after class.”

“Jimin? Hey!”

Standing in line at the campus’s cafe, Jimin washes over in a cold sweat as the loud call of his name attracts the attention of almost everyone near. He came here to get an additional caffeine boost before class and more importantly stall from talking to you, but it’s just his luck that you’d be here too.

“Hi,” he mutters awkwardly, eyes on the ground the second you get closer.

He’s never seen you so up-close before. He wonders if your skin has always looked so smooth.

He wishes his skin were as smooth.

“I was gonna call to ask about your no shows in class but I completely forgot to give you my number the last time we talked.”

Jimin finds this incredibly new and odd. Just a few days ago he hated you without knowing you and now you’re talking to him like a friend. It’s definitely going to take some getting used to.

“Here,” you say as you hand him your phone, a new contact page open and ready for him to fill out. “That way we can talk out of school, plus I found multiple super-helpful self esteem websites that you might li—“

“Y/N,” Jimin halts your enthusiasm. Again, way too early in the morning for this. “Can we not talk about it in such a public place?”

His tone is hushed and embarrassed, trying not to let the several eyes on them to hear that he’s struggling with self esteem. God this is so much more depressing than Jimin initially thought it’d be.

“Of course, yeah no my bad.” You rush your words, retracting your hand down before Jimin grabs the phone from you, typing his number.

“I dont expect you to waste time on me. Just text when you have absolutely nothing else to do. This isn’t important enough to occupy your schedule.”

Immediately, you frown at his words. Sure this is important. And contrary to his request, you already cleared something off of your schedule for him.

“First off, this is important. I won’t have you taking down on yourself anymore.”

Jimin so badly wants to ask why, but he won’t because that’s rude and you don’t deserve anymore rudeness from him. Not after what you read in the art room.

“Secondly, I already cancelled pilates for you. I have something else fun planned for us.”

Jimin can’t help his sudden snicker.

“What?” You ask, slightly offended.

“Nothing, it’s just funny you take pilates. Of course you do.”

You wanted to carry on with being offended, but you felt a pang of accomplishment upon getting him to laugh. Progress, you think.

“Yeah yeah,” you dismiss as you tuck your phone into your back pocket, trailing back out of the cafe. “Laugh all you want but just know that this ass didn’t grow itself!”

You: u, me, frat party tonight at 9.

Sat on the hard seats of the lecture hall, Jimin’s eyes go wide as he reads your reply to his text.

The second you sauntered out of the cafe, you were quick to text Jimin in hopes to break the tension between you two— which technically isn’t tension at all given Jimin is the only one who finds your new friendship odd. Well him and the rest of the students who saw you two talking together.

Jimin had asked what you had planned, and when you replied with frat party, he felt physically ill.

Jimin: absolutely not. sorry.

You: hear me out, it’s not even a big party

You: it’s very discreet and there’s only gonna be a couple people

Jimin locks eyes with you from across the room and mouths “no” with an adamant shake of his head. You roll your eyes before your thumbs get back to texting him.

You: we can pregame before we go so u can loosen up

You: if you’re with me, there’s nothing to worry about

Jimin wants to be offended. He most definitely does not need you at his rescue. The intent however was a little sweet. God Jimin is reminded exactly why he despised you— you’re perfect.

Jimin: i’ll think about it. that’s not a yes.

He pretends he doesn’t notice the little happy dance you do in your seat, nor the squeal of excitement you let out even though he didn’t give a definite answer.

Jimin starts to smile, but when he looks to his left he sees someone else who’s smiling at you and it vanishes. Taehyung. Completely gawking at you, Jimin fights that weird feeling that suddenly engulfs him. Maybe it’s the fact he’s hiding his new friendship with you from Tae.

Either that or somewhere in his subconscious, he doesn’t like how Tae is smiling at you.

“God dude, isn’t she so cute.” Tae whispers, completely oblivious to why you’re dancing in you’re seat.

Jimin trails his gaze to his lap as a bitter mood takes hold of him.

“Yeah… definitely.”

Jimin is in a rut.

Even though he’s still not certain about going to that party, finding a potential outfit never hurt anyone. Moments after he got home he was already sucked into his closet by the magnetic pull of all the great clothes he has— even though he knows himself well enough to understand he will end up changing into his “boy clothes” no matter what he ends up choosing.

He slips on a black, oversized distressed sweater. The seams are ripped in just the right places, leaving a fraction of his chest, his belly, and a dash of his waist to be visible beneath the shredded fabric. The back showcases a fair amount of skin as well.

This one, Jimin thinks to himself, isn’t so feminine. It’s doable. Maybe.

He wants to pair it with a skirt but that would only be a waste of time because if he can’t even leave his apartment in a skirt to check the mailbox, he sure as hell will not be wearing it to a frat party of all places.

He grabs a pair of black chinos that he thrifted not so long ago, letting it rest low on his waist. He pulls the look together with black combat boots and a dainty necklace that he tucks beneath the sweater. It makes him feel pretty despite the fact he’s the only one aware it’s on him.

He steps back to absorb the outfit in the mirror, and he feels good. It’s a combination of both masculine and feminine and it’s definitely testing the waters but Jimin knows his night won’t be enjoyable in the least if he wears a baggy hoodie or tee. He likes what he has on, even if the frat boys will give him shit for it. Which they definitely will.

He hears Daisy meow across the room, and upon directed his gaze to her his eyes settle on the makeup bag tucked into the far back corner of his desk.

He’s tempted, he is. But he can’t. He’s not ready yet.

Just as he begins to walk towards his desk, only enticing himself further, a knock on his door is heard and he takes that as a sign from god herself that he should skip the makeup.

With a sigh, he heads to the door.

“Knock… Knock… Knock!”

“Just a minute! For fuck’s sake.”

Irritated at the swat team-like announcement, Jimin swings the door open to reveal none other than Jessica Rabbit?

“You didn’t tell me it was a costume party!” Jimin complains as he steps aside, gesturing you to come in.

Both hands holding a bottle of E&J, you let yourself in and place the bottle on his countertop.

“Oh yeah, it’s a costume party.”

“It’s not even halloween,” Jimin states the obvious as he instinctively heads for two glasses out of his cupboard.

“It’s to make up for last year. There was a big game the day of halloween so none of the guys were in a party mentality.”

Party Mentality?

Jimin can’t believe he’s hearing about frat news from you, who is in his apartment dressed like Jessica Rabbit and is downing a shot straight from the bottle. What has his life come to.

You notice him staring so you apologize as you offer him the bottle to pour.

“Figured we’d pregame like I said. Also we gotta figure out a costume for you. Ooh what about a slutty artist or something.”

Jimin swears you make him lose brain cells. Sliding a now-filled glass toward you, he takes a large gulp of his own.

“Slutty artist?” He thinks out loud. “I’m fine with what I have on.”

Jimin counts down the seconds until you praise his bold sweater choice, but he can feel the alcohol rise back up when you say the opposite.

“In all honestly I thought that was a sleep shirt. We’re putting you in something else.”

You navigate yourself straight to what you assume is him bedroom, and Jimin nearly falls flat on his face chasing after you.

This may be a bit embarrassing for Jimin to admit to himself, but he’s never had a girl in his room before. It’s intimate, he thinks. Having someone inside a room that has witnessed every one of his breakdowns, outfit changes, alone time moments, etcetera. Jimin cringes as memories from the other night come back to him.

“Cute room,” you tell him as you look around, admiring the fairy lights and album covers displayed. Jimin was always big on music. Maybe posters were too far given his age, but he didn’t care. He never thought someone else would ever see them.

Although, Tae has been to Jimin’s place before. He knows about the posters and fairy lights. Though he never once questioned it or even talked about it. Only when he called that one poster of Ariana Grande hot. That’s what Jimin likes about Tae, he never questions him. But it’s not like Jimin gives him much to wonder about. He’s completely masked to the eyes of his best friend.

“This,” you start, dramatic tone and all, “this is gorg.” You hold out his favorite black skirt, and it’s lightening quick how fast he snatches it from you.

“No.” He tells you, cheeks getting hot. He’s embarrassed to say the least. He knows you know about his self esteem issues, but you have yet to discover his fondness for feminine clothing. But you have now.

“What? You’re embarrassed I found a skirt? If it’s socially acceptable for women to wear sweats, then it should be acceptable for men to wear skirts.”

Someone who gets it, Jimin thinks. This is the first time he’s ever felt understood when it comes to this, and he doesn’t quite know what to say.

“But skirt or no skirt, I think it’s important that you feel sexy tonight.”

“And why is that?” Jimin plays along. He takes a seat on the edge of his bed as you continue to look through his wardrobe.

“Because halloween parties exist solely for people to feel sexy all night.”

“It’s not halloween,” Jimin argues again, earning a shirt thrown at his face. Giggling, he holds it out in front of him.

You stand in front of his closet with a look of excitement on your face. His reaction disappoints you, however.

“Y/N, no. I can’t wear this out.”

“Just try it on.”

He knew this was part of your plan to get him to gain a little confidence and even convince him to leave the house in something he feels good in, but Jimin is adamant. He cannot wear this.

It’s a fitted baseball tee, extremely cropped and a shade of pale pink. Jimin cannot leave the house like this, despite how good it makes him feel deep down.

Reluctant and a tad shy, Jimin removes his sweatshirt from his body as he replaces it with what you threw at him. In the short moment he was bare, you might’ve stole a glance at his figure. His body is perfect, you think. Slim waist with faint yet toned abs and a noticeable amount of muscle on his arms. You take another sip of the drink that has yet to leave your hand.

“I look stupid.”

“You look sexy.”

The compliment was unexpected and was more than enough to have Jimin’s eyes widen. He breaks eye contact because how could he not, and he self consciously wraps an arm around his stomach.

More so his lap.

“I don’t know,” he says faintly, mumbling over his speech. “I think it’s a bit much.”

“Change to grey sweats. You can tell people you’re a 60’s athlete, they dressed like this back in the day you know.”

Yeah right, tell a bunch of actual scary frat boy athletes that’s he’s mocking their style from the 60’s.

His brows furrow when you step closer to him, reclining down and reaching for the skirt he had snatched from you. You grab one of his wrists, placing the bunched up material into his hand. His cheeks are on fire, his heartbeat picking up.

“Try it on,” you whisper. “For me.”

And fuck. Jimin is fully erect. He physically cannot bring himself to stand let alone change in front of you. He pushes your hand away, never wanting to disappear so badly.

“Another time. You already got me to wear this tee, baby steps.”

Disappointed, you think he’s right. You can’t beg him to gain confidence to wear an entire outfit like this on the first day of his journey. It takes time, and luck for Jimin you’re very patient.

“Another time,” you repeat softly.

Jimin has been to a function with very little people before. He knows what a small little get together looks like. This party— it isn’t that.

“You said a couple people!” He shouts over the blairing music as you pull him through the front hall and to the packed kitchen.

He has no clue who’s house this is and he hasn’t seen a single normal person. Everyone is either drunk, high, or the worst: a frat. He shivers in discomfort before you bring a shot glass to his lips.

“Guess word spread and more people came, no biggie.”

He downs the shot of what turns out to be tequila, wincing as he coughs out a reply.

“Huge biggie.” He looks around the crowded house after a bystander drunkenly bumps into him and slurs an incoherent apology.

This was a mistake.

“Y/N, what is the point of me being here? This isn’t making me feel good about myself in the least, this isn’t my environment.”

You take another shot before quickly grabbing a lime and placing it between Jimin’s plump lips, and before he can register what you’re doing, your lips are already on his as you suck from the lime. Nipping the fruit with your teeth you pull it out and drop it into the sink, grin wide as Jimin turns fire hydrant red.

That shouldn’t count as a kiss, but you just sort-of-kissed Jimin. His mouth is dry, heartbeat in his stomach, and he is hyper alert on the way his knees are subtly shaking.

“Ease up Jimin, it’s gonna be a long night.”

He didn’t know it then but that’s the last time he’d be seeing you until the end of the party. He sauntered off to a random couch that was unoccupied for the most part, only some random (and gross) couple having a full blown make out session on the opposite side.

He made sure to keep his cup filled the whole night as that’s the only thing keeping him from walking straight out the door and back into the comfort of anything that’s not this party.

He’s spotted Tae a few times, who is dressed as Jack from the titanic, but Tae hasn’t noticed him yet which is probably because his rather different fashion approach and the fact he’s at a frat party. If anything that should be a reason Tae spots him since he’s the odd one out, Jimin thinks. Then again it is a costume party and no one look normal per-say. Nor is Tae the sharpest tool in the shed.

He also thanks the universe for not letting Tae notice you and Jimin arrive together.

He’s been glancing at you for a while now, the way you sway your hips to the rap song playing on the surround sound speakers. The way your skin is glowing even under the dim, groggy lights of the house. He watches the way smoke exits your mouth as Tae places a blunt between your perfect lips. He looks away when Tae also places a hand on your waist, dancing with you so intimately that it pains Jimin to see.

He knows he’ll be hearing all about this from Tae. You’re his favorite person, he’s probably over the moon about dancing with you right now.

“Jimin?” Speaking of the devil.

Jimin waves awkwardly as Tae whispers something to you and proceeds to walk towards his direction. You go off to dance with a frat guy who’s been waiting all night to have your attention. Jimin finds him pathetic.

“What are you doing here? You never come to these kinds of things.”

The music is loud but that’s nothing compared to how deep and confident Tae’s voice is. Despite Jimin’s desire to be more feminine, there are some masculine traits he wishes to have. A deeper voice is one of them. Not Tae’s level of deep, but deeper than what his currently is.

“A friend forced me to,” he admits, not naming names because how could he.

“Oh you have friends?” The younger man teases, earning a grumpy eye roll from Jimin. He takes another swig out of his cup.

Jimin remembers what he’s wearing and wonders why his best friend hasn’t said anything about it yet. He almost wants to point it out so it doesn’t awkwardly go unsaid and leaves Tae to catch on to his secret need for femininity.

“Like my costume?” Jimin asks, masking the fact that this is actually just a random shirt he’s had in his wardrobe and not a costume.

Tae gives him a quick once over, not lingering his eyes on the top for long.

“Oh what are you supposed to be?”

He definitely thought that wasn’t a costume and instead a normal outfit. Jimin cringes, hating you right now more than ever for making him show up in this. But he also loves you for providing him with the save he’s about to use on Tae.

“I’m a 60’s athlete. They used to dress like this you know.”

Taehyung hums, genuinely convinced.

“Wah that’s clever. I thought that was yours for a sec.”

Jimin hates himself for what he’s about to say.

“Why on earth would I own a pink crop top, that’s ridiculous.”

They laugh it off, and Jimin feels a gut wrenching pang in his stomach. That sentence wasn’t made for him, and it made him a liar and a hypocrite to his own desire.

He needs to go now before he says even more self damaging nonsense.

“Hey Tae, do you think you can get me a blunt?” Jimin asks in hopes to excuse his friend and, well, get high.

“Is this coming from the same person that said smoking isn’t good for you?”

Jimin remembers when he said that but he’s far too drained to be defensive or right. He shrugs as he admits to his hypocrisy.

“Yeah well so are frat parties but here I am. Cough one up, I know you have some.”

Tae stands up to reach in his front pocket, pulling out a steep tin that reveals 3 joints. He hands one to Jimin, telling him a brief “I’ll be back” before vanishing to find you again.

Something told Jimin to stay at the party despite how badly he wanted to go. He thought about how it may make you sad if he were to just leave, then he ridded that idea because why on earth would that make you sad. Nevertheless, he glanced outside to see if the crowd was acceptable to join. It wasn’t.

Deciding to not smoke with a bunch of frat guys, he goes the alternative route and heads for the hallway to secure an empty room. When he succeeds, he closes the door behind him and props the window open as he lights the tip of his joint.

He doesn’t smoke often, barely at all, but he needed this. As the smoke entered into his mouth he inhaled it eagerly, head rolling back as he slowly blows it all back out. This feels good, he thinks. The atmosphere on the other hand still could be better.

Jimin laughs to himself. Smoking weed at a frat party you invited him to. The world is funny that way, he nods to himself. Almost as funny as how you’re all he can think about right now.

He doesn’t know what it is. It’s not hate. For sure not love. He’s just thinking about you. Perhaps he misses your company? Or the way your skirts never reveal too much but just enough to drive him crazy.

The way your pouty lips move when you talk.

Your soft skin.

Your silky voice.

The way you look in that Jessica Rabbit costume you wore tonight.

Jimin is painfully erect, and without even noticing his hand has been palming himself desperately this entire time, blunt being delicately held in the other hand, occasionally being brought up for more puffs to fuel what he’s doing right now.

“Fuck Y/N, yes.”

He unties his sweats. One more rough drag and he kills the blunt on the rim of the windowsill, both hands focusing on himself now. One hand tugging his waistband down, the other guiding himself out. And all he can think about is how sexy you are.

He gets carried away, going so fast on himself that he doesn’t hear or see the door open. He’s high beyond belief, god only knows what Taehyung had laced in that blunt, and so when he sees you he swears his imagination is just very vivid.

Until his conscience registers and he almost squeals as he lunges back in shock of the situation.

Quickly you run up to him just in time to pull his entire body back and preventing him from falling out the window. You’re breathing heavy, half because of what you saw moments before and partially because you just saved his life.

“Fuck Jimin, be careful.”

And how fucking peculiar it is that you’re not addressing his cock that is out in the open between the two of you.

Jimin can’t speak. He almost literally died from being caught jerking himself to you while being high out his mind.

What a fucking legacy he’d have left.

After catching his breath he frantically goes to put himself away but his hand is stopped by yours.

“You know people sneak into rooms at parties to have sex with each other, not to do themselves.”

His cheeks flush red.

“Only freaks do that.”

Jimin has wanted to before, but he officially wants to unalive himself. How pathetic he is, he thinks.

“I’m sorry, I… I’m really high right now and I thought I locked the—“

He cuts himself off when you guide his hand back onto himself.

“You’re not gonna ask me why I came in here?”

Jimin takes a deep breath.

“Why?”

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, very slowly putting his own hand into motion against himself.

“Because I’m a freak too.”

Your words came out in a faint whisper but Jimin’s senses are heightened and he hears it like a megaphone in his ears. Your tits are practically spilling out your tiny red tube dress as you lean to help him stroke himself. A shiver cascades down his whole body, an unintentional yet hesitant whimper rumbling off his throat.

You giggle, then abruptly you stand. You lean down and peck him on his frozen, plump lips.

“Have a good night Jimin, I’ll be in contact for our next power move.” You walk towards the door. “Masturbating is a good way to show yourself love, kudos to you kid.”

Jimin’s hand is glued to his stiff cock, frozenly just keeping it there as he stares at you with his mouth agape.

“I’ll lock this on my way out, by all means finish and do not fall out any windows.”

And just like that you open the door only a couple inches and squeeze out to give him privacy. He’s left in the same spot, still in absolute shock.

You’re perfect.

You’re beautiful, and apparently so fucking sexy in sexual situations. It takes only one more stroke and one more thought of you for Jimin to reach the finish line, cum dropping down his hand and shaft as he fucks into his fist.

He breathes jaggedly until he’s drained of all energy and collapses on the bed.

To his shock, he’s not freaking out. He’s actually smiling. Then again that could easily be the weed talking. What did taehyung put in that anyway?

Jimin’s smile dissipates as an ugly thought sends a cold chill throughout him.

You’re his best friend’s crush. You’re Taehyung's. And he just betrayed him. Jimin hates how the universe works sometimes. When one thing goes well, the whole world goes to shit.

The world is funny that way.

ply pt 2???? im sorry for how long it took luvies, last year was so intense. i hope you all are still here to read😿 run this uppppp cuties!! til next time luvs🤭❤️

🏷️: @exactlygreatcoffee @sweetieguk @ctrlsht @blessrious @someusername133 @dreamer-pjm @zadkielr @dearsullix @lailaaxd @osakis-gf @jnghs @seltansworld @bxnqtxnie @moon-kid39 @mawwnsterr @zadkielr @iamjimintrash @chansbaybygirl @canarystwin @dearsullix @polyparkj @mannymalfoy @jmincore @kyglover @coralmusicblaze @midnightangel13 @jm-jkfics @lovelyflower02 @xcherrywaltz

soooo many of u guys who asked to be in the taglist changed your usernames so unfortunately i couldn't tag u☹️hopefully this found u!🫶🏻

(for anyone else who'd like to be in the taglist pls reply to this post <3)

[uns4lted]

Tender Care (One-Shot)

Genre: Pure Fluff Warning: None Pairings: Bonten!Ran Haitani x fem! reader Sypnosis: When you fall sick, Ran Haitani stays by your side, revealing a rare, tender side as he cares for you throughout the night. His unwavering presence and affection show just how deeply he cherishes you, solidifying the bond between you. Note: i made this out of boredom, who knows i might make more? ٩(＾◡＾)۶

The rain pattered steadily against the windowpanes, creating a soothing backdrop to the otherwise quiet apartment. You lay in bed, wrapped in layers of blankets, your face flushed and pale from a high fever. The flu had struck you hard, leaving you feeling weak and achy. Your usual vibrant energy was nowhere to be seen as you struggled to stay awake.

Ran Haitani had noticed your absence and despite his usually aloof demeanor, had immediately dropped everything to be by your side. His concern was evident in every gesture as he moved through your apartment, determined to care for you despite his busy life.

He was currently in the kitchen, preparing a pot of chicken soup from scratch—a rare display of domesticity for someone who was usually all about high-stakes situations. The comforting aroma of the simmering soup wafted through the apartment, offering a stark contrast to the discomfort you were feeling. As Ran carried the steaming bowl to your bedside, his eyes softened at the sight of you looking so fragile. He set the bowl on the nightstand and gently touched your forehead, feeling the heat radiate from your skin. “Princess,” he said softly, his voice unusually gentle as he helped you sit up a bit. “I made you some soup. It’ll help with the fever.” You opened your eyes and gave him a weak but grateful smile. “Ran, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble. I’m okay.” Ran’s expression softened even more, a rare and tender look that few ever saw. “You’re not okay. And I’m not going anywhere until you’re better. Let’s get some of this soup into you. It’ll help.” He carefully fed you a spoonful of the warm soup, his gaze steady and filled with affection. The warmth of the soup and the comfort of his presence offered soothing relief from the fever’s grip. You took the soup gratefully, feeling a deep sense of warmth and love for the man who was showing you such a caring side. After you finished eating, Ran set the bowl aside and helped you take the medicine he had brought. His hands were gentle as he adjusted your blankets and checked your temperature. His concern was palpable in every movement, from smoothing the blankets to ensuring the room was at a comfortable temperature.

As the night wore on, your fever began to break slightly, and you started to feel a bit more coherent. You watched Ran, admiring how his tough exterior melted away in the face of your vulnerability.

“Ran,” you said quietly, your voice soft but filled with warmth. “I didn’t know you could be so… caring. It’s a side of you I don’t see often.” Ran’s eyes met yours, a hint of surprise and a touch of shyness in his gaze. “What can I say, princess? You’re my everything. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

You reached out, your hand finding his and holding it tightly. “Thank you. For everything. It means so much to me to have you here.”

Ran’s fingers gently squeezed yours, a rare, genuine smile lighting up his face. “You’re worth every bit of it. I’d do anything for you. I’m not leaving your side until you’re better.”

He settled into the chair next to your bed, his presence a comforting constant through the long night. He stayed by your side, occasionally checking your temperature, adjusting your blankets, and offering reassurances. He even put on a playlist of soft, soothing music, creating a peaceful atmosphere that helped you relax.

The hours passed slowly, but with Ran’s constant presence, the time seemed to be filled with warmth and care. As dawn began to break and the rain outside started to ease, you felt a renewed sense of comfort and security.

Finally, as your condition improved and you began to feel stronger, Ran reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. He looked at you with a tender gaze. “You’re doing much better now, princess. Just rest a little longer. I’m right here with you.”

You smiled, feeling a profound sense of love and contentment. “I’m really lucky to have you.”

Ran’s smile grew softer, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m lucky to have you too. Get well soon, okay? I want to see that beautiful smile of yours back to its usual brightness.”

As you drifted off to sleep, the sound of Ran’s steady breathing beside you was a comforting reminder of his unwavering support. With his love and devotion surrounding you, you felt more at ease than you had in days, knowing that Ran’s presence made all the difference in your recovery.

[mavrintarou]

[4:38 PM] Oikawa Toru [3]

Thank you for your patience <3

Warning: angst, healing and future complication

Second part Fourth part

.

After ensuring Mateo’s fever had subsided, Y/n kicked Toru to get some sleep. She saw his hesitation; did he not trust her with his son?

Y/n responded with a deadpan expression, her tone tinged with sarcasm. “Oh, don’t worry. I promise I won’t just take off with him,” she said, her words laced with irony.

Toru shook his head, his expression filled with disbelief. “No, no, that’s… I trust you,” he muttered, looking visibly exhausted. “I just… I can’t wrap my head around this. Why would you care about us?”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, surprised by his response. “you were the one who came to my unit,” she reminded him.

Recalling their initial encounter, Toru nodded slowly. “Yeah… you’re right,” he acknowledged.

“I have a weird sleep schedule anyways, so I’m used to being a night owl.” Y/n turned her attention back to Mateo, who suckled his pacifier in her arms. “I’ll watch his fever, so go rest.”

He inhaled like he had more things to say but nodded, “all right, but wake me up at any time, got it?” She saluted him, and he smiled before turning his heels towards his bedroom. He left the door cracked ajar so that Y/n did not feel uncomfortable entering his room if needed.

Y/n and Mateo sat together, swaying and waltzing to the melody of her old concerto videos playing on YouTube. The city night of Tokyo glowed below them as they gazed out from the window. The soothing music and gentle rhythm lulled Mateo into a peaceful slumber, his head finding a comfortable spot against Y/n’s chest.

Y/n’s gaze shifted toward the TV as the familiar sound of a solo violinist filled the room, and her heart began to race with anticipation.

Kim Woojin.

As the video continued to play, Y/n realized with nostalgia and sadness that it was their concerto performance from four years ago.

It had been a while since she had last spoken to Woojin, particularly after he had proposed to her.

Despite their history, she had made the difficult decision to reject his proposal.

.

Y/n sat across from Toru in awkward silence at his kitchen table.

She woke up to the smell of delicious food and immediately was hungry. The thought of food was pushed aside as her mind focused on getting Mateo’s fever down.

Toru set a plate of scrambled eggs, toast, and fruits before her. He pushed a freshly squeezed glass of orange juice toward her while sipping on some tea.

“Thank you,” she muttered, still feeling dazed.

Mateo was in Toru’s arms, being fed with a bottle.

I need to go, she thought, chowing down her food.

“I won’t kick you out, so you don’t need to inhale your food,” Toru said softly, setting the bottle on the table and shifting Mateo upward to pat his back.

Y/n narrowed her eyes at him for reading her mind. “I appreciate the breakfast, but I have other things to do today,” she lied; she had nothing to do now that she was taking a break from the piano world.

“Mateo and I can’t thank you enough for whatever you did to eliminate his fever.”

Y/n nodded, finishing the last of her strawberries. She stood up and began picking up her plate to take to the sink when Toru stopped her. “Your hands are full; this is the least I can do.”

She ended up washing the dishes before she said goodbye.

“I’ll be away the next couple of days. I used your TV to search for some of my old videos on YouTube last night, and it seemed to have put Mateo to sleep.” She sighs, “hopefully, it’ll work.”

Toru smiled, “thank you, Y/n. Truly.”

. .

Y/n returned four days later.

Traveling across multiple time zones took a toll on Y/n’s body, making it difficult for her to adjust. Exhausted, she managed to take a quick shower before collapsing into bed. She fell into a deep sleep, unaware of the passing hours until evening.

Glancing at the clock on her phone, Y/n groaned in frustration. She despised the disoriented feeling that often accompanied traveling, as it disrupted her entire day.

Opening her fridge, she was greeted with empty shelves.

Sighing, she returned to her room to change her clothes to go out.

She returned an hour later, complete and with some groceries. She exited the elevator and looked at the opposite door for a second before entering her unit.

. .

[Aoba Josei High School]

Y/n couldn’t stop smiling like a fool.

She and Toru have plans to stop by the bookstore after school to pick up the latest manga volume to In Your Heart. A series that he took an interest in after he found her reading it.

Toru also wanted to treat her to ice cream.

Y/n has yet to tell Toru that she couldn’t resist and read beyond the chapters online and find out what happened next.

The main character, Lina, is a well-known pianist who returns home after being abroad for many years. She runs into her first crush from high school, Nikko, and they reconnect, falling in love with each other once again. But Lina has a secret…

Y/n has been giddy, wanting to blurt about the spoiler she discovered; Toru will be so shocked!

She placed a hand over her rapidly beating heart, which seemed to flutter whenever she thought about Toru. Unable to ignore it any longer, she realized she was just like the many other girls easily charmed by his captivating personality.

A persistent voice in the depths of her mind constantly urged caution, reminding her to be careful. However, her heart was experiencing emotions she had never felt before, and it was impossible for her not to desire more.

.

Y/n followed behind three unknown girls as they led her outside the school building. She was annotating her notes when three girls approached her desk.

“We have something to say to you; follow us.”

They turned the corner behind the gymnasium, and Y/n hesitated until one of the girls stepped out, “come.”

Finally, when they were out of earshot, the girl Y/n perceived as the leader stepped closer and swiftly retrieved something from her pocket. She forcefully brought it to Y/n’s face, making her flinch in surprise.

“Watch this.”

The video began playing, starting shaky and at a weird angle toward four boys.

She immediately recognizes Toru and the other three boys he is often around with, Hajime, Takahiro, and Issei.

“How is it going with Y/n?” Issei inquired, kicking his feet onto his desk.

Toru shrugged his shoulder. “I think it’s going good; she’s warmed up to me.”

“Yeah, we can tell; I’ve never heard her talk to so much before.” Issei laughed mockingly. “What did you do? Woo her?”

Toru snorted, “my charm was enough for her to open up to me. How much more do you need for me to win the bet?”

A hand slapped the back of Toru’s head; Iwaizumi Hajime growled, “you made a bet? That’s the bet you guys were talking about?”

“Toru said he could get any girl to fall at his feet; Y/n is totally at his feet.” Takahiro laughed, digging into the inside of his pocket before slapping a few bills in front of Toru. “It’s just a bet; it’s not like Toru said he would get her to fall in love with him. He just needed to open her up; no harm done.”

“But still, you made a bet on her.” Hajime pointed, “that’s still a shitty thing to do, Shitty-Kawa.”

“Chill, Iwa-chan,” Toru rolled his eyes, “I only said I’ll get her to fall for my charms, which she did. I didn’t say anything about dating her and dumping her. If anything, I helped her open up to a man, a future man for herself, so she should be thankful I helped her up for her.”

Issei leaned forward before Toru, “do you like her?”

Toru shook his head, “no, she’s cute, but I don’t like her. Her stuttering is cute, but personally, it’s a turn-off.”

Hajime swore, “you’re an asshole. Did you pretty much use the girl to help your grades?”

“Yep!” the two other guys answered. “That’s why he had the top scores in the class, and now Oikawa has the grades to apply to colleges.”

The video ended.

Words were sealed, and Y/n could only look pitiful.

“We thought you should know the truth.” The girl stuffs her phone back in her pocket. “Whatever you decide to do is up to you.” They turned to walk away.

“W – wa – ait,” Y/n whispered; they turned to look over their shoulders. “Th – thank y – ou.”

.

Toru found himself glancing back at Y/n’s empty seat.

It has been day three of her absence, and their teacher has not said anything about her absence like she would with other students.

She also hasn’t responded to any of his messages after her last message to him canceling their plans to go to the bookstore and grab ice cream afterward.

“Class, I have an announcement to make.” The teacher tapped her pen against the chalkboard to get everyone’s attention. “One of our classmates, Y/n…” she paused to inhale sharply. “She will no longer be in this class as of today. Can I ask a volunteer to clear Y/n’s locker and deliver her possession?”

Toru stood up immediately, “I volunteer.”

After school was out, when Naomi approached him, Toru rushed to gather his items to leave.

She looked seriously before asking quietly, “can I talk to you for a bit?”

Toru nodded before following her. She stepped off to the side, away from the crowd rushing to leave.

He noticed Naomi eyeing the bag of Y/n’s items, mainly a pencil pouch, a few notebooks, and small stationary items. “I can take those to Y/n.”

Toru frowned; his grip tightened around the handle of the bag. “It’s okay. Utada-sensei asked me to drop it off, and it’s on my way home, too, so I can swing by.” He paused, watching Naomi before asking, “did something…happen to Y/n?”

Her eyes turned cold, “shouldn’t you know best? Since you made that bet on her?” She wanted to laugh in his face when his eyes widened. She held her hand out, but Toru made no move to hand over the bag. “Face it, you’ve been outed, Oikawa; I hope you won a good chunk of money.”

Naomi took a step forward, she was tall for a girl, but she wasn’t as tall as Toru, but her stance was taller than him. “If I had not promised Y/n, I would have punched you.” She reached to snatch the bag out of his hand, leaving him behind stunned.

.

The end of the school year came in a blink of an eye, and before Toru knew it, he was only two days away from graduation.

Everyone has congratulated him for getting scouted and accepted to join Club Atletico San Juan, a professional team in the Argentina Volleyball Federation. It is beyond his hopes and imagination, and he is still processing it.

He would immediately leave for Argentina right after graduation.

He knows he’s happy and proud of himself.

But there was something heavy on his heart.

Toru has been sitting on the bench at one of the local parks near his home, waiting for Y/n.

If she does come.

He had texted her earlier; you probably don’t want to see me anymore, but I would like to explain myself. Can we meet at the park by our house in 30 minutes?

His knee has been shaking nervously. Doubts plagued his mind: What if he couldn’t effectively convey his message? What if he stumbled over his words? The fear of choking on his words weighed heavily on him.

His head snapped up the moment he felt the spot beside him shift. “Y/n…” She doesn’t spare him a glance, staring straight ahead. “All I can say is… I’m sorry.” There is no emotion on her face. “I got accepted to play for a club in Argentina, and I’ll be leaving soon, but I couldn’t leave without saying I’m truly sorry. I own up to all my mistakes, my actions of hurting you… I don’t even know how to make up for hurting you.”

Tears pricked his eyes, but he berated himself for even considering crying. How dare he shed tears after showing no remorse when agreeing to the bet? Deep down, he knew the situation was complex, but he believed it was better not to make this worse any further. “I’m truly sorry,” he managed to say, his voice filled with regret.

Y/n stood up, and Toru’s eyes followed as she turned her heels to stand before him. She exhaled softly and then smiled.

Toru blinked, eagerly awaiting her response, hoping for any words to escape her lips. He braced himself for the possibility of her expressing hatred or refusal to forgive him. However, she remained silent, to his surprise, not uttering a single word.

She just stared at Toru for a second longer before she dropped her head and turned her heels, walking away.

. .

[Present day]

Y/n woke up feeling drowsy; she couldn’t tell if the sun was rising or ready to set.

Closing her eyes, she found herself once again immersed in memories of her high school days. Since the day she reconnected with Toru, her dreams seemed to be plagued by images of the past. It reminded her of the pain he had caused her, urging her to be cautious about getting involved with him again. However, part of her wonders if these dreams were a form of closure she needed, a way to finally put the past behind her.

The last encounter Y/n had with Toru occurred just before he departed overseas. Discovering that she had been nothing more than a bet to him left her reeling, and she needed space to process her emotions. Over time, she managed to move on and let go of the hurt caused by the bet.

In hindsight, she realized she should have trusted her instincts and knew it was too good for someone like Toru to genuinely want to be her friend.

However, his hurtful comment about her stuttering pierced her heart the deepest. That remark cut deep, lingering her thoughts and intensifying the pain caused by the ordeal.

For the longest time, she had accepted her speech impediment as a flaw, and her parents had encouraged her to seek professional help. However, she was always too nervous and shy to take that step. It was easier for her to remain silent; she had grown accustomed to that.

Reflecting on her past, Y/n realized that Toru’s presence in her life had sparked a newfound confidence in her speech. She developed a strong desire to communicate with him, which motivated her to study diligently and practice speaking sentences slowly to overcome her stuttering.

“M – mom… and d – ad…,” Y/n inhales sharply, interrupting the silence at dinner. “I… I want to go to – to O – Osaka School o – of Speech….”

The specialty school didn’t operate like public schools. After much consideration and approval from the principal of Aoba Josei, they allowed Y/n to graduate early so she could immediately start her classes at the specialty school.

Y/n decided to temporarily set aside her passion for piano to focus entirely on improving her speech. With dedicated effort and determination, she witnessed a remarkable process in a short amount of time. Her speech had improved tremendously, surprising her expectations.

For the first time in her life, Y/n experienced an unparalleled excitement about engaging in conversations. Her new confidence had been uplifted, inspiring her to discuss all the topics she had been too afraid to broach in the past.

Even years later, her stuttering only resurfaced in rare instances when she found herself overwhelmingly nervous. With her progress and confidence, her speech impediment became a distant memory, only appearing in the most intense moments of anxiety.

And recently, since she ran into Toru again.

Y/n lifted her head at the sound of her door chime. Grabbing her phone, she sees the notification that someone is at her door.

Toru and Mateo.

She exited the bed and ran her fingers through her hair before shouting, “coming!”

“Hey,” Toru greeted as soon as she opened the door, “we wanted to see if you would like to join us for dinner at our place. Mateo and I would like to treat you to dinner for being so kind to us.”

Her gaze met Mateo’s, and for a brief moment, he seemed taken aback before recognizing her. A look of excitement spread across his face, and he energetically pumped his chubby arms. She smiled sweetly at him before answering, “sure, give me ten minutes to change, and I’ll be over.”

.

Toru left the door ajar, allowing Y/n to enter without hesitation. She scanned the room, searching for the baby, and Toru directed her attention to the living room.

As she stepped inside, her eyes fell upon the adorable sight of Mateo sitting amidst a scattering of toys. When he saw her, his chubby arms started flapping excitedly, causing him to lose his balance and fall backward.

Y/n couldn’t contain her laughter as she hurried over to him.

“Don’t mind him; he’s in the phase of wanting to be held all the time. Don’t fall for it.” Toru’s voice echoed from the kitchen. Despite the warning, Y/n couldn’t resist the adorable charm of Mateo’s longing gaze.

“Hi, Mateo!” she cooed, clapping her hands to get his attention. Mateo’s face immediately lit up with excitement, clearly indicating his desire to be picked up. Y/n gently maneuvered him into a sitting position, but as soon as she did, he clung to her with a surprisingly firm grip, refusing to let go. “All right, all right, I’ll pick you up,” she chuckled, giving into his pout. Mateo nestled comfortably against her chest, his eyes gazing at her with awe.

She leaned in to kiss his chubby cheek, “so glad you’re feeling better.” She reached to comb his mop of dark brown hair and brushed it behind his ears, “your hair is getting long.” Her thumb rubbed his earlobe, and he let out a yawn. “Are you tired?”

She stood up and cuddled him against her chest, rocking him gently.

“Don’t cave in, Y/n… or else you’ll make it hard for me.” Toru groaned from the kitchen.

Despite Toru’s comment, the genuine smile on his face betrayed his words. Deep down, he harbored a secret appreciation for any interaction between the two.

Toru knows he can only do so much to fill the vacancy of a mother figure for Mateo, and he often wonders how it would be if Mateo had a mother figure in his life. Though he was still too young to understand it now, eventually, he would question why he didn’t have a mother like other kids his age.

Until that day arrives, Toru will assume the roles of both mother and father and will do his best to explain the situation when Mateo is old enough to understand. He won’t hide anything, but he will do his damn best to protect his son from anything and everything.

Being thrust into the role of a single parent, Toru found himself starting from square one with no prior knowledge or experience in caring for babies. The prospect of raising a child was entirely foreign to him, leaving him feeling utterly clueless and uncertain about where to begin.

As Mateo’s due date approached, Toru’s anxiety consumed him, and self-doubt crept into his thoughts. The weight of being the impending responsibility began to overwhelm him. Questions raced through his mind. Could he genuinely handle caring for a baby on his own? What would this mean for his volleyball career, which demanded so much time and dedication? Amid his uncertainty, the idea of putting the baby up for adoption crossed his mind as a potential solution. These distressing thoughts clouded his judgment and added to his growing panic.

As soon as Mateo was placed in Toru’s arms in the quiet sanctuary of a separate room at the hospital, a profound shift occurred within him. In that tender moment, as he gazed into his baby’s eyes, Toru realized he couldn’t abandon this innocent life. This was his baby, his flesh and blood, and he felt an overwhelming surge of love and responsibility inside him.

He no longer wished to beg Lucia to reconsider or plead for her to stay for the sake of their child. He wanted her to leave, to have no part in their lives. It was clear to Toru that he and Mateo were meant to face the world together, forming an unbreakable bond as father and son.

“Your noo – noodles will overcook at this point….”

Toru blinked, seeing that he completely ignored the pot of overly boiling ramen. “Oh shoot!” He quickly turned off the stove and glanced at Y/n, holding Mateo in her arms as they looked at him with the same confused look.

“You might be right; it’s a little overcooked.”

Y/n shrugged her shoulder and turned her attention to Mateo. Smiling, she told the baby, “it’s okay; I like soft ramen.” As if Mateo knew what she meant, he smiled widely at her.

Toru smiled too, his heart soft like his ramen at the sight of his son and Y/n smiling.

.

Y/n leaned back against her seat, groaning. “I’m so full.”

She thought he was only making home-cooked food; it turns out he ordered other food, which was delivered. Toru’s family-size kitchen table was filled with different dishes.

“Why did you get so much food?” She complained that she was full but continued adding to her plate.

Toru held a sleeping Mateo in his arms and ate with one hand, “well, I didn’t know what you like, so I got a variety of things.”

“Toru, if you knew me – you would know I’ll never say no to any food.” She bit into a piece of batter squid and sighed, “this is so delicious too.”

“I would like to know more about you.”

Y/n blinks, allowing those words to sink in. It was a simple yet significant statement that carried the weight of curiosity and a genuine desire to understand her better. 

Toru observed the rapid whirl of thoughts in Y/n’s mind, realizing the gravity of his words. “I mean as in a friend,” he clarified, his voice filled with sincerity. “I want to be your friend again if you allow it.” His heart raced as she set her chopsticks down, causing his anxiety to spike. “Please, I’m sorry if I made this uncomfortable. I didn’t intend for it to be – “

Y/n’s words carried a sense of maturity and willingness to let go of the past. She assured him, “whatever happened between us years ago, it’s in the past. I don’t hate you.” Taking a moment to compose herself, she dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “I’m glad you’re bringing this up because… I didn’t know how to address it.” She took a deep breath before continuing, “I won’t ask why I was a bet, but I want to know if you ever regretted it.” Her question hung in the air, reflecting curiosity and the need for closure.

“Yes,” he admitted, his response soft, almost a whisper, as he nodded. “Every day.”

Toru’s gaze bore into Y/n’s, his eyes reflecting guilt. It was a look she had noticed ever since reconnecting with him. 

“I forgive you.” Y/n said in a heartbeat. Her words carry the power of absolution. A soft smile graced her lips as she continued, “so, let that burden go.” Though her words were simple, they meant everything.

She offered him her forgiveness and the opportunity to release the weight of his remorse and find solace.

With a profound sense of relief, it felt like the heavy burden on Toru’s shoulders had finally lifted.

His head dropped as he took a deep breath, mixed emotions washing over him. Setting his chopsticks down, he wiped the tears from his eyes. His voice barely above a whisper, “thank you.”

For so long, Toru had carried the weight of his past actions, believing that he deserved any punishment or consequences that came his way. He had run away, thinking it to be an act of cowardice, choosing to pursue his career in another country. But the burden became heavier with each passing day, month, and year.

He quietly carried it, not making a fuss, as he believed it was the price he had to pay for his foolish behavior.

Through time, Toru recognized the impact Y/n had made on his life, despite the relatively short period they had known each other. Her kindness had touched his heart, a realization that slowly dawned on him. That was all she had ever offered him throughout their encounters: genuine compassion.

Even after all this time, her influence lingered within him, a constant reminder of the goodness he had encountered in her presence. It was a testament to the power of small acts of kindness and the lasting impact they could have on a person’s life long after the moments have passed.

“Toru,” he looked up, “forgive yourself so you can be better and do better.” Her eyes drop to the deeply asleep baby in his arm, “do it for Mateo.”

And you, he said to himself.

“Okay,” he nodded, “please continue to eat; I didn’t mean to ruin the atmosphere.”

“I’m going to gain so much weight, thanks to you.” She teased, “but I’m really full; I can’t even eat even if I want to.” She stares at him for a split second, “thank you for dinner; everything was delicious.”

“Thank you for joining us,” Toru smiles at his son, “even if this guy is rude and sleeps during dinner.”

He met her gaze, reading the curiosity in her eyes, and something within him shifted.

For the first time, Toru felt a sense of pride in sharing his and Mateo’s story. It was no longer a source of shame or regret but evidence of their resilience and the love they built together.

“Are you wondering where his mother is at?”

Y/n looked at Toru with a gentle and understanding expression. She wanted him to know that he had a safe space to share his story, but she also respected his boundaries and understood that some things might be challenging to discuss. With a soft smile, she reassured him, “only if you feel safe and comfortable sharing.”

Her words were warm and sincere, letting Toru know he had someone who genuinely cared about him and his experience. Toru felt a wave of gratitude wash over him, realizing he had found someone who could truly understand and accept him, flaws and all.

“Of course,” He adjusted Mateo in his arm, “I was in a long-term relationship with his mother, her name is Lucia, and she is a pretty well-known model in San Juan. We both agreed and understood that our main priority was our careers.” He glanced down and rubbed the cheek of his son. “Mateo was not in either of our plans, and it scared the shit out of me when Lucia told me she was pregnant. I had no time to think about it and had to decide either my career or my child quickly.”

Toru’s mind had been consumed by the thoughts of his future, torn between his passion for volleyball and the responsibility of becoming a father. He had spent countless nights wrestling with his desires and aspirations, questioning if he was still finding fulfillment in the sport that had once been his everything.

He prayed for a sign that indicated what path he should take. During this time of deep contemplation, he learned about the life growing inside of Lucia, and Toru couldn’t help but see it as a sign that he had been desperately seeking. In an instance, his priorities shifted, and he knew deep down that his child would always come first.

The thought of being a father and having a little person who would look up to and rely on him filled him with a sense of purpose and determination he had never experienced before.

He realized his love for volleyball would always be a part of him, but being a loving and dedicated father was the most important role he could ever play.

“I was ready to retire or take a long break from my career, but Lucia wasn’t on board; she was unequivocal that she didn’t want the pregnancy, and I convinced her not to terminate the pregnancy and that I’ll take full responsibility of him.”

He gazed up at Y/n, marveling at how her soft eyes still held the same affectionate gaze for him. He had grown accustomed to seeing the disappointment in people’s eyes so much that he had forgotten the warmth and comfort she brought into his life. Despite the disapproval from his closest friends and family, who believe it would be more convenient for both of them to end the pregnancy and avoid any commitments, he finds himself questioning their perspective.

But Toru was firm on his decision.

“For the entire pregnancy, she remained out of public eyes and out of work,” he opted out of disclosing how he had paid a hefty amount of money to support her lavish life during the nine months. Thankfully, Toru continued his career for another season and signed another contract with brand-name sponsorships. “I checked in with her daily to ensure the pregnancy was going well.” There were times Lucia wouldn’t respond to him, annoyed he was always bothering her when there was nothing new. “Mateo was born two weeks earlier but was the size of most newborns.”

Y/n asked, “Lucia didn’t want anything to do with you two?”

Toru shook his head, no longer sad when asked that question. “No, she didn’t want him from the beginning, and as soon as she could, she demanded a cesarean section to get him out of her.” He winced as he observed the heartbreak etched across her face. “Please don’t be sad,” he murmurs, trying to offer reassurance. Deep down, he believes this unexpected turn of events might be a disguised blessing. Though she chose not to be in the same room as Mateo after his birth, Toru felt a surge of determination as he cradled their child in his arms, making a silent vow that they would find a way to make things right.

“I’m proud of you, Toru.” Y/n quietly said with a heartfelt smile.

.

“Thank you for dinner and,” she lifted the bag in her hand, “sharing some of the leftovers.”

After their heart-to-heart talk, they realized it was close to 11 PM. Y/n began cleaning up as Toru went to set Mateo down for the night.

Toru rubs the back of his neck, “no, thank you for joining us,” and for everything.

Silence hung in the air to the unspoken words that lingered between them.

Her eyes locked onto his, filled with relief. “I want you to know that talking tonight has brought me so much comfort,” she confessed. As she moved to open the door, ready to leave, he called out her name, causing her to pause in her tracks.

Glancing back over her shoulders, she met his gaze and patiently awaited his words. Toru hesitated momentarily, holding his breath before he mustered a barely audible whisper, “can I… hug you?”

A flicker of surprise sparkled in her eyes, quickly replaced by a warm smile that reached her lips. Setting her bag down, she stepped forward, guided by an unspoken understanding. She nestled herself into his open embrace, her arms enveloping his waist tightly.

It lasted mere seconds, yet within that brief hug, it felt like they had encapsulated a lifetime of emotions, comfort, and understanding.

It was a simple act, but it held immense significance for two wounded souls searching for peace – a much-needed embrace for two broken people.

Y/n pulled away; her cheeks tinted pink as she rushed to grab her food and slip her shoes on. “I’ll s – see you around. Have a good night.” As she turned the doorknob to his unit, her movement abruptly stopped. Surprise ran through her veins as she looked at the towering figure standing before her unit, his gaze fixated directly on her. “Woojin?”

“What are you doing over there?” Woojin stepped forward and froze, narrowing his eyes.

“Do you know him?” Y/n looked over her shoulders, seeing Toru staring straight at Woojin.

The atmosphere is tense, and to add to that, she hears Mateo’s cry at a distance. “Go – I know him. He’s… a friend.”

Toru looks down at Y/n, “you sure?”

“Of course.” Swiftly, she placed a hand firmly against his chest, using her strength to push him back into his unit. With determination, she closed the door, creating a barrier between them. Turning her attention to Woojin, she gestures with a subtle nod, silently conveying her invitation for him to follow her into her unit. 

. . .

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy @rukia-uchiha-98 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @anejuuuuoy @tooruchiiscribs @mommyourcall420 @haikyuubiggestsimp @lilguycoded @random-734 @ghostlyneckoaftoad @abdce12345

[halcyonwrld]

— EVERLASTING PROMISE

PAIRING. Kim Dahyun x Fem!Reader

After a persistent princess tracks you down through meetings with a few of the local village’s herbalists, she has the gall to request your presence, in search of some of your more… magical pursuits. You set up a place and time just so she’ll leave you be, but find yourself waiting for her there out of pure curiosity. (1K)

TAGS. royal!au, fantasy!au, forced marriage, bittersweet angst, witch!reader who's just fed up with everything

“You clean up nicer than I expected.”

With that, you set down your mug with a sour grimace, the fresh brew on your tongue going stale as your mood.

Muffled thunder rages overhead, nearly drowned out by a bout of laughter around you. You open your eyes. Take in the sight of dripping lashes, a neat collar around the throat, and squared shoulders— all fine until you notice a flash of silver rings as pale hands rise to adjust the neckline of a shoddy cloak.

“And you hardly know a thing about subtlety,” you snap in retort.

She was practically asking to get caught.

Dahyun gawps, stammering on her words, “Hey- if you must know, subtlety is practically my middle name! It just.. slipped my mind that it was meant to rain tonight, is all…” Her explanation goes flat under your unamused glare, her last sentence coming to a quiet, embarrassed drawl. You imagine her with feathers, all of them fluffing up as she tries to recover, leaning towards you to hiss, “I might’ve fared better if I didn’t have to abandon my horse to travel on foot. This terror hole is nearly impossible to find, it could’ve taken—”

You hold up your hand, stopping the princess dead in her tracks.

“Spare me the even bigger headache and make this quick, please.” You stifle a wince as the chatter in the tavern swells once more, rubbing at your temples. “There are things I have to tend to.”

“Fine. I need a love potion.”

You scowl. “No.”

“I knew you would-” her face drops, “wait, w- what do you mean no?”

You pick up your mug again to drown your laughter in ale. “It means it’s not happening, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Or what? You’ll tell on me?”

Dahyun reaches her hand into her jacket, fear visibly seizing her into motionlessness as a subtle blue aura begins to dance around your fingertips. Your voice lowers considerably. “This isn’t your pretty little castle, sweetheart, no one’ll be answering your cries of distress if you try anything stupid.”

Under the faint haze of torchlight, Dahyun swallows.

Still, she pulls the object out of her coat pocket.

It’s just a scroll.

You ignore her trembling hands as she flattens the page onto the rickety oak in front of you. It's a lengthy thing. Written neatly in inks darker than nights like these. Your eyes skim back and forth.

These… these are papers for her marriage. If she wants them, this means—

Your heart plummets.

The silence on your end must make her anxious, her body practically vibrates as she blurts out, “I know- I know they’re illegal. But I need this.”

You swallow. “For you, or him?”

“Myself.”

You don’t know if that makes it better or worse.

“...Why would you marry someone you don’t love?” you ask, keeping your voice carefully measured. Not overconcerned, but not too careless either.

“If it’ll aid in my favor, I’ll have you know this wasn’t my decision either.”

The way she breaks your stare betrays her casualty about it all, but that doesn’t stop her from shrugging. Her lips purse. Brows furrow.

Like a flash of lightning, the moment is over as quick as it happened. Those dark eyes are back on you again. Her stare resolute. “But… everyone has a part to play.”

Everyone has a part to play.

Where have you heard that from before?

Shaking your head, you stand swiftly, taking your lantern in hand. “I’m sorry, but I’m not risking everything just so that you can live out your happy ending.”

And you leave.

Princess or not, it was silly for her to come to you. Everyone knew love potions were forbidden. Folktales and parables told countless stories about them. How they quickly turned love into obsession. Turned the simplest of men into something cruel. Nearly unfeeling.

Part of you couldn’t deny her courage, you supposed, but another part of you abhorred her presumptuousness. Immediately assuming you’d say yes. Approaching you in the first place. Saying she had an offer you couldn’t refuse. Like hell you couldn’t.

You’re a few feet from the backdoor when you hear her call.

Ignoring her, you step into the rain, letting the door shut behind you. Serves her right for wasting your time on a night like this, where the moon is full and the opportunity for harvest yields higher than usual.

“Wait!”

You're pulled back by your wrist.

“Please, I’ll give you anything you long for! Access back into the town, jewels, herbs, a spot in the castle, however much money it takes-”

You yank your arm away, glaring at her from underneath your hood. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“I know I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in misery!”

“Don’t we all,” you snark.

“Look, I know that my parents exiled you. But you should know better than anyone that not everyone happens to align with the likes of them or their ideals!” she yells over the rain. “I- I seriously want to change the way things are. But I need it to be perfect, anything but and you can bet someone just as bad as them will be sitting up on that throne! And they might do worse than banish and imprison.”

You stare at her with wide eyes, so shocked you speak before your brain even has time to catch up, “They teach you that in princess school?”

Dahyun crosses her arms with a pout, muttering, “That’s not a thing.”

You turn to hide your smile, “If you say so.”

You only get a few paces away to reenter the woods when you realize you don’t hear any movement behind you. Turning around, you find Dahyun still standing there. Her posture reeks of defeat. Shoulders slumped. Lantern dangling to the ground. Head low. All of the rain like a vicious fog, only adding to her somber image.

“You coming or not, princess?” you call.

Dahyun looks up with wide eyes, as if not having heard you the first time. Unable to take a win, it seems. You roll your eyes, lifting your lantern and gesturing with your head as if to say come on. The way her face lights up is a magic of its very own.

You turn back forward.

“We still have a lot to discuss, privately,” you say once she reaches your side, making sure your tone leaves no room for discussion. Not out here. Even the woods have ears.

“You won’t regret this, I promise,” she breathes out.

That makes you clench your jaw. The last time a royal promised you something, it’d ended in disaster.

After all, you would know best, since you were the first Kim Dahyun ever promised to marry.

[cakerybakery]

Adam didn’t come down for breakfast. By a skipped lunch Lucifer was worried. It wasn’t like Adam to miss meals.

He made a little plate to take up, figuring Adam might be wallowing or lost track of time.

Lucifer knocked on the door and only heard a groan in response. He took it permission to enter the dark room.

“Adam?” Someone shifted on the bed and groaned again.

Maybe he was hungover? He’d seen the man overindulge since coming to hell, unuse the concept of moderation. Heaven had so many rules that hell didn’t, Adam had some troubles navigating for himself what was appropriate.

He put the plate on the bedside table and looked for Adam in the mess of sheets. It was hard to see in the dark of the room but Lucifer didn’t want to flip a switch on and hurt Adam further. Finally he spotted Adam head half covered by a pillow.

Lucifer reach out to move it, brushing Adam’s forehead. He frowned and pressed the back of his hand against Adam’s forehead.

“Adam, you’re hot.”

Adam flashed a weak smile and nuzzled into Lucifer’s cool hand, “I know it, babe.”

“No, I mean you’re burning up. I think you have a fever.”

Lucifer pulled his hand away and sent a text to Charlie for medication and easier to eat food to be brought up.

Lucifer took off his jacket. He draped it over a chair in the corner of the room and rolled up his sleeves. Adam was sweating pretty bad and he figured the guy likely felt gross. So Lucifer opened some drawers until he found a change of pyjamas and underwear.

There was a knock at the door and he warned them to leave the stuff and go, he didn’t know who in the hotel had already had sinners sickness but it was highly contagious. Lucifer was immune, he’d caught it back when hell consisted of Lilith and himself. Charlie had it as a little girl but he didn’t know about the others. It didn’t seem to need a host to survive, unlike mortal diseases. It usually affected new sinners but some people go hundreds of years without catching it.

He didn’t want to deal with an epidemic if he could help it. He waited a moment until he heard the footsteps walk away and fetched the items.

Some soup, a large glass of water, some fever medication, and a damp cooling cloth.

“How much do you weight?”

Adam groaned out a weak, “fuck you.”

Lucifer sighed, “I need to know how much medicine to give you.”

Sinners were often tall by nature. Larger than normal and Adam hadn’t been an exception. He had been tall as a mortal man and tall as an angel, now he was about nine feet tall. If Lucifer had to guess, Adam was about 300-400 pounds. Mostly muscle with a soft layer over top. Not that Lucifer had been paying attention to that sort of thing.

He went for the middle range and spoon fed several tablespoons of the medicine into Adam.

“Time to eat. Can you sit up a little?”

Adam tried but he didn’t get far. Lucifer caught him and without thinking let out a comment, “oooh, you’re a big guy aren’t you?” He gave Adam’s arm an appreciative squeeze.

“Fuck you.” Adam looked angry and Lucifer felt bad. He hadn’t been trying to upset Adam.

He chose to keep his big mouth shut and helped Adam sit up. Spoon feeding Adam until the soup was gone and holding up the drink so Adam stayed hydrated.

Lucifer pressed the cool compress against Adam’s skin in between bites. “I think your fever is breaking.”

At least he wouldn’t die. There was no real dying in hell, you revived just as sick. Death was a relief for most. But it was better to just be taken care of.

“Come on, let’s get you in the shower.”

Adam pushed back against that. Whining that he didn’t need one.

“Okay. We’ll do a bath then. It’ll give me time to change your sheets.”

Lucifer ignored Adam and went to run a bath. The tub was a little small so he increased the size and conjured up some nice little bath things before turning on the water. He didn’t want it too hot or too cold so he turned it on the cooler sides and stuck his arm in to heat it up.

He was the king of hell, fire and heat was his domain. And Adam had felt hot even to him.

Pleased that the bath wasn’t too much on either side of the temperature gauge, he went to help get Adam up.

Despite Adam size Lucifer was an angel, Adam’s protests and dead weight meant nothing to him. He easily peeled Adam out of his sweaty clothing and dumped it in the laundry basket.

Lucifer tactfully avoided looking down the best he could but it was hard to ignore. Adam was definitely a shower and before Lucifer could stop himself he muttered, “definitely a big guy.”

Adam leaned against him harder, “what, you want some? A bath just an excuse so you could get a look? Maybe a taste? Hmm?”

“No, you are definitely sweaty and need to wash up.” Lucifer hesitated. Adam wasn’t sounding opposed to the idea that Lucifer might want some action with him. “I certainly can appreciate how you look, but let’s focus on getting you better first.”

He helped Adam into the bath to soak what Lucifer knew were some aches and pains caused by the sickness.

Lucifer stripped the bedding and conjured up some clean ones before heading back to the bath to help wash Adam up.

He helped gently wash Adam’s hair, wash away sweat, and scrub Adam’s arms and shoulders. “Okay, I think you’re done. How does that feel?”

“Better,” Adam groaned in appreciation. Lucifer helped him out and to the toilet, leaving him to do that on his own. He waited until Adam was done and helped him get his teeth brushed and clean clothing on. Then back into bed.

Lucifer conjured a thermometer and checked Adam’s temperature. Normal for a sinner. He patted Adam’s arm, “try to sleep okay?”

Before he could get up Adam grabbed his hand, “you can stay, if you want.”

Swallowing hard, Lucifer agreed to stay. He went to move into a chair, but Adam pulled him down into the bed. He curled around Lucifer and whispered, “thank you. For helping.” It was a lot of Adam to admit to, being grateful someone was taking care of him.

Lucifer entwined their fingers and settled back against Adam. He knew how rough being a mortal man had been for Adam. As the first man he never would have had someone to really care for him. He needed to work through illnesses or pain or else they wouldn’t eat. He never had anyone to rely on except Eve, who would have been busy as well.

He waited until he could hear Adam’s breathing even out and the tension leave his body for sleep before letting himself drift off too.

[leasstories]

I Need You Here With Me

Eddie x gn !reader (Eddie is 21 and reader 23)

TW: Reader is insecure; mention of emotional abuse and neglect; past abuse/toxic relationships

WC: ≈2.2K

January 28th, 1988

You grew up in a really messed up household. Your dad was an alcoholic who always told you to act tough and your mom spent your life, until you decided to break off all ties with them. You were never good enough for her, and when your feelings got the best of you, your dad would blame you and call you a crybaby.

This childhood didn’t allow you to develop a self-esteem. You never feel confident and since you’ve been dating Eddie, you’ve never felt good enough for him. Another consequence of your troubled childhood is that you’ve been looking for love from anyone who could give it to you, and that’s how, before meeting Eddie, you’ve been in several toxic relationships. Relationships that broke you even more. When you’re dating someone, when you love someone, you’d do anything for them. That’s something that toxic people seemed to notice. And that’s how, before Eddie, you’ve had your fair share of abusive boyfriends and friends who took advantage of you.

Eddie and you met in January 1987, your boyfriend of the time was invited to the same New Year Party as Eddie and brought you along with him. You were his little “trophy” in public. In private though, you were his punching ball. Eddie found you on the owner’s house bathroom sobbing. He carefully approached you and asked you what happened. It was the first time ever that someone noticed that your life wasn’t perfect and so you literally did trauma dumping on him. Later, Eddie helped you break up with your boyfriend, protected you from him and offered you a place to stay.

A few months later, when you started healing from your past relationship, in March, Eddie and you started dating and officially became partner in April. But with your baggage, you don’t know how to navigate a healthy relationship, and you’re clingy. You’re conscious that you might be too clingy for Eddie. It isn’t healthy. But you don’t know how to love, you’ve never been loved before and no one taught you how to love properly. And you know you and your baggage might be a bit too much, especially since he is younger than you.

Don’t get us wrong here, Eddie has his own baggage. He has had a very difficult childhood and he experienced something in 1986 that gave him the physical and mental scars he has, but he never told you what happened. All you know is that he often wakes up screaming. But his baggage is easy to handle for you. All you want is to give him the world, protect him and be there for him 24/7.

Eddie is currently grocery shopping. Today, he went alone because he heard from a friend of his that your ex is back in town for the weekend which means he won’t let you go out of the weekend.

As soon as Eddie left, you tried reading your book, but you miss him too much, you can’t focus. You know that your boyfriend should be able to go grocery without you missing him. You know that. You also feel that you being clingy annoys Eddie, you’re afraid it’ll scare him away. You start overthinking and feeling insecure, thinking the real reason Eddie went grocery shopping alone was because he was fed up with you. You start imagining the worse scenarios, telling yourself that it is too good to be true. You can’t be with a man like Eddie Munson. You don’t deserve him. And how can he love you? How can you be loved? You wonder. You even go as far as to imagine that he might never come back from grocery shopping. You get stuck in your own head to the point that you don’t hear Eddie come back in the house.

“Baby?” Eddie asks.

You do not answer, you don’t even hear him.

“Baby?” Eddie says while entering the living room.

Eddie sees you, dissociated and sat on the couch, tears prickling at your eyeline.

He crouches down in front of you and take your hand in his, that’s when you notice his presence, you can’t help yourself and hug Eddie, what Eddie finds unusual, is that as soon as you realize what you did you leave Eddie’s arms and avoid his stare. Eddie caresses your knees, knowing that it is one of the things that reassures you the most. You still avoid his gaze and get up, not caring his hand is on your knee.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Eddie asks.

You turn to him, eyes shining with tears. “Am I too much?” you ask, voice trembling.

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me” Eddie tells you reassuringly.

You shake your head no, eyes glued to your feet.

“Hey baby, you are not too much…” Eddie softly tells you.

“Am I not enough?” You shyly ask.

“No!” Eddie says raising his voice, which makes you flinch.

When you flinch, Eddie takes a step back and looks at you apologetically, but you don’t see it, your eyes still fixed on your feet, tears running down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry baby, I shouldn’t have raised my voice… I’m so sorry.” Eddie is distraught by your sudden self-doubt. Eddie knows about your childhood and your past relationships, but you’ve never felt insecure with him, or at least you never voiced it. He doesn’t know how to handle the situation. He isn’t mad at you, he is mad at your parents, at your previous partners and friends who used you, mistreated you and made you feel unloved.

“’S fine” you say while sniffling. “’m sorry I upset you…” Now you feel even more like a burden, you’ve managed to upset the only person who showed you nothing but love.

“Hey, hey, stop that. You didn’t upset me love. It’s not you who upset me. It’s just the idea that your parents and past relationships broke you so much that you need to ask me such questions as if you are too much or not enough.” Eddie says, in a calmer tone.

“’m sorry” you say again, still sniffling.

“What are you sorry for honey?” Eddie asks, trying to be as comprehensive and patient as possible.

“’m too clingy and it might make you run away… I don’t know how to love Eddie… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry” you keep repeating.

Eddie takes a step toward you and when he sees you don’t flinch or move away, he put his hand on your cheek.

“Stop apologizing baby. Listen to what I have to say and don’t cut me off, can you do that for me.” Eddie kindly asks.

You nod, still sniffling, tears still running down your cheeks.

“Good, that’s good.” Eddie says. “You remember when we weren’t a couple. Every time you didn’t sleepover in my room, I found it hard to sleep and every time we are apart, there is a pain in my heart that won’t go away. You’re clingy? Maybe, but I love it and even if I could, I would change nothing about it. Trust le when I say that I love you the way you are. And I know you have trust issues, I know you have had a difficult past, but I want to help you see that you are loveable. I want you to see that I love you and that I’d never hurt, neglect, nor abandon you.” Eddie continues.

“I’m sorry for being such a crybaby…” you say while wiping your tears.

“You’re not a crybaby love, you are traumatized. You have to acknowledge that, and I’ll help you acknowledge it, I’ll help you heal from that, I promise to be here every step of the way.” Eddie tells you.

“I’m sorry for not knowing how to love properly…” you tell Eddie.

“None of that baby, you love me properly, of course you still have things to learn, but I feel loved by you. And you know my past with my family, you know about my High School years, not a lot of people loved me, but I’ve always felt it. And I feel it coming from you.” Eddie explains.

“Does that mean the fact that I’m telling you that I love you so many times a day is annoying? Suffocating?” you shyly ask.

“Baby, you’re always saying the words I want to say. It is not suffocating. You could tell me you love me every single second that I wouldn’t feel it suffocating.” Eddie reassures you.

“What about the excess of physical touch?” You ask, still insecure.

“Baby… I need you here with me, at all times. The closer the better.” Eddie tells you.

“But I’m clingy…” you repeat once again.

“And deep down, I’m as clingy as you, I just try to hide it.” Eddie tells you with nothing but love in his eyes.

“’m sorry for getting all worked up… I just missed you so much while you went grocery shopping that I imagined the worse scenarios possible. I got stuck in my own head.” You tell Eddie, ashamed.

“Don’t apologize baby. I know your past and I should have known what as wrong as soon as I arrived home and I shouldn’t have raised my voice. I know it’ll take time for you to realize that it is true, that we are made to last. If I need to repeat it every single day for the rest of my life I will.” Eddie tells you while caressing your cheek.

“Can I ask why?” you ask.

“Why what?” Eddie asks.

“Why did you talk to me at that New Years Party?” you ask, unsure.

“For three reasons: first one I found you so gorgeous. Second reason, I saw you were sad, I was actually looking for you and when I found you in the bathroom it wasn’t just a coincidence. Third reason: your boyfriend didn’t even acknowledge your sadness and he didn’t even look for you when you left so I thought someone had to.” Eddie earnestly answers.

“Thank you… thank you so much for everything you did for me Eds. I’m sorry I’m not a better partner…” You apologetically tell him. You need him to know how grateful you are to have him in your life.

“Thank you for allowing me to be your boyfriend, for allowing me to love you, for letting me help you. You’ve come so far since the first time we met. Yes, you are my insecure little baby, but you became stronger, you became happier. I want to make up for all the assholes who treated you badly in the past. I want to help you heal; I want to help you blossom.” Eddie says before softly kissing your lips. You kiss him back, putting your hand in his hair. You both make out until you can’t breathe and then reluctantly part. Eddie put a strand of hair behind your hear and smiles softly at you.

“So, do you still believe I’m gonna leave my little baby heal all alone?” Eddie asks.

“It might take time for me to fully believe it. But you reassured me a lot so thank you. Thank you for being so patient with me…” You tell Eddie.

“Baby, I’ll always be patient with you. I love you so so much. And now it’s my time to thank you. Thank you for trying your best every day. Thank you for accepting me how I am, with my qualities and my flaws. Thank you for being patient with me when I have a nightmare and for never asking about what happened to me in March of ’86. You’re the most respectful, loving and caring person I’ve ever known, and I fall with you even more every single day.” Eddie declares.

You start quietly sobbing in your hand, this time you’re not crying because of anxiety or pain, no, you’re crying because of Eddie’s speech, because of how much he loves you and how much you love him.

“’m sorry for being a crybaby…” you say once again.

Eddie hugs you and gently whisper in your ear. “You’re not a crybaby, you’re sensitive, there’s a difference. You’re allowed to cry and to let your emotions out. It’s healthy and normal baby.” Eddie says while caressing your back, still hugging you.

Once you part Eddie asks. “Will cuddling in bed make you feel even better?”.

As soon as you nod, Eddie throws you over his shoulder and walk to your shared bed. He lays you on the bed and joins you on the bed, opening his arms. You crawl towards him and put your head on his chest, listening to his heart beating. Eddie loves having you in his arms, as he already told you and will remind you for as long as you’re insecure, his love language is physical touch. If he could, Eddie would never part from you, he would stay in this bed, cuddling with you forever.

Eddie is the first ever person to make you feel loved, he is the first ever person to treat you with respect. He is the first partner to ever love you and treat you as his equal. You know it’s going to take time to fully believe it, but for the first time ever, you allow yourself to dream of an entire life with Eddie.

[folk-ivy]

HELP idk where to like request shit but you should do one where it’s like a matt or chris fic based off the song dress by taylor andddd basically they’ve been “dating” for like a few months but trying to keep it from the other brothers and y/n get’s fed up because she’s sick of feel like like a secret (illicit affairs pun lol?) anyways so she shows up to this party they’re all going to in a really hot sexy dress knowing it’ll mess w matt/chris head nd then like smut in a bathroom 🎀🔥💖 thank yewww bye.

Dress.

Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader

When you break-up with your secret boyfriend after being tired of being kept a secret, a stupid party may change everything

smut!

author's notes: thank you so much for your request! sorry if this was not what you imagined, i had never written smut before, so sorry if this is bad (it probably is)! once again, english is not my first language, i apologize for any mistakes!💗

warnings: smut; cursing

The red dress with black lace flowers was hugging my figure perfectly, defining every curve exactly the way I like it. I run my hand over the dress hugging my body and when I feel the silk with the touches of lace all over my palm, I knew the night would be something to remember.

“Earth calling Y/N” I hear my best friend, Emily, who was sitting on the queen-sized bed in the middle of her room, say to me.

"I'm here, I'm here" I say without a hint of enthusiasm.

"Oh, you're still sad about that fight, right?" she says and I automatically lower my gaze.

The fight.

I've never been a quarrelsome person, I've never liked anything that leads to a disagreement, maybe it's because I can't maintain an argument without starting to cry, but that's another story.

With Matt everything seemed different.

I liked that idiot so much that I ended up fighting with him; not out of hate, but because I liked him so much and I just wanted him to understand my side for just a moment.

I hated being kept a secret, I hated the feeling of having to hide and having to act like a fugitive, a criminal.

But I think it's stupid things we do when we're in love.

Emily was the only one who remotely knew about us, well she knew we were more than friends but she had no idea he had asked me to be his girlfriend a while ago.

Matt hid me from everyone, his brothers, his parents, his family and especially his fans. At first it was fun, the adrenaline of hiding from everyone, of taking risks. Over time I started to hate it, I started to want to be free at any cost, even if it wasn't with him by my side.

--3 hours before--

"Matt, you don't understand! I really like you! I don't want to hide anymore" I say, feeling the heavy tears forming in my eyes.

"You don't understand my side! Do you know what they'll say if they find out we're together?" he shouts "they're going to slaughter you, Y/N, that's what they're going to do!"

"I don't care! I just want to be able to have you by my side without having to worry about what the rest of the world thinks!" I say, even louder "shit, not even your brothers know about me! And they know everything about you! It's almost like you're ashamed of me"

"Stop acting like a child" he says, this time with a lower but more rigid tone of voice.

"Fuck you, Matt! I'm not a woman to be hidden, and if you don't want to admit me, fuck you!" I scream, with tears already streaming down my face "we should break up"

"What?"

"That's right, we're breaking up!" I speak, this time lower but with more hatred laced in my voice "t your fans and your brothers that you were too soft to be able to keep a woman like me"

I grab my bag from the beige sofa and walk to the door, when I feel my boyfriend's, or rather ex-boyfriend's, arm grabbing my wrist.

"Please don't go" he says softly, with a small tear running down his face

I shake my wrist until he lets go and walk out the wooden door.

--current time--

“Fuck, Y/N, lost in thought again?” Emily's voice interrupts my daydreams again.

"Sorry, sorry" I say

"Come, the Uber is coming" she says, gets out of bed, and drags me to the front of the house

"I'm not in the mood, Emi" I say "can't we stay home?"

I've always liked parties, and it's very likely that this one will cheer me up after my bad breakup with Matt, but, knowing what the triplets are like and knowing the character of the owner of the party house, it's very likely that I'll meet them there and, if If I meet Matt, my night is likely to end right there.

"We're too hot to stay at home, come on!" She says and drags me when a notification from that app arrives on her cell phone.

The way to the party was short but funny, after we discovered that the Uber driver was, in fact, Emily's distant cousin.

We greeted Emily's cousin/uber and got out of the car when we saw the large party house located at the end of the street.

The place was huge, and had a silver bear statue outside and neon lights going off everywhere.

We presented our invitations that we bought 2 hours before, and entered the house.

Loud music and the smell of weed quickly overwhelm my senses, and I look at Emi as she drags me over to the corner to get a drink.

I order a shot of whiskey; I've never been a drinker, but I think a little alcohol won't hurt, right?

We talk for a while sitting on the metal bar stool, and in a small moment of silence I observe the other side of the 4-story house, and that's where my world stops.

Matt

My eyes meet his and I watch as he walks towards me.

I panic, after all, what the hell can you do when your ex-boyfriend is coming towards you in the middle of a crowded party?

Is pretending to faint really such a bad option?

Before I can put my plan into action and throw myself on the ground, I feel a warm hand grab my arm.

"Hi" he says with his palm on my arm, but avoiding my gaze

"What do you want, Matthew?" I say

"Please, can we at least talk?"

"No"

"Please!"

"She fucking said no!" my friend interrupts, ripping Matt's hand off my arm.

A simple conversation can't end so badly, right?

"Emi, it's okay" I say in a calm voice, and I watch from the corner as Matt's eyes fill with hope "Let's go"

I get up and walk towards the unisex bathroom that was just a few meters away from us.

I enter the bathroom followed by Matt, and I can't help but notice when he locks the door.

"Hey, I think we should talk" he says softly, when I turn towards him with my arms crossed.

"Yes, you already said that" I say "say it, Matt"

"Please, I want you back! Forgive me for hiding you for so long, I think I was just too scared; I don't care what the world thinks, I just want you! It hasn't even been twenty-four hours since I've seen you but I already miss your hugs, so please come back with me...I love you" he says, without pauses and with an extremely shaky voice.

I've never been one to trust others, but something in his tone told me he was serious, and that I could trust him.

However, I couldn't help but pay attention to his last three words.

'I love you'

Shit, I love this idiot too, after all, who could not? His laugh, his smile, and all his flaws, I love everything, and I just want him to know that.

"I love you too, asshole" I say and grab his face in my hands, while pulling him for a kiss.

What was supposed to be an innocent kiss became a make out session, and what was supposed to be a make out session, became something bigger.

Once sweet and calm, the meeting of our mouths was now frantic and needy.

His hands fly to my waist and down to my ass, while my hands roughly grab strands of him.

"You know, I loved that dress, but I would love for it to be on the floor" he breaks the kiss.

"You know, I only bought it so you could take it off" I say and we both laugh as he slowly lowers the right strap.

My left hand is quick to pull the other strap, leaving me now naked from the waist up.

"Holy shit" he says staring at my breasts

"You can touch it" I say and smirk.

His hands fly to my bust, with his fingers pinching the nipples that are stiff from the cold of the bathroom.

A soft moan leaves my mouth and I see his pupils dilate even further, if possible, as he lets out his own moan.

I kiss him again as he pushes me towards the sink, picking me up on his lap and, without breaking the kiss, placing me on top of the sink with my legs open and him between them.

“Let me fuck you, please?” he asks slyly.

"Yes" I whisper with my eyes closed, and I hear his belt being unfastened and the sound of his jeans falling to the floor.

His hands go straight to my wet center, and I feel him tear my panties and make a small caress on my thigh.

"Wow, I liked those panties" I say

"I'll buy you twenty of these, love"

He presses his forehead to mine, hugs my waist and begins to slowly insert his dick into my entrance.

"My god" I say and lock my eyes on his, while I feel a small burning sensation.

The touch of pain is soon replaced by pure pleasure as I feel him thrust his entire length into me.

"Please move" I whisper and plant a little kiss on his mouth, just to let him know it's okay.

And he starts, with slow but strong thrusts.

The wet sound and our moans are all that can be heard in the bathroom with the white tiled wall, the occasional noise of my body against the sink is also present.

And, again, what was sweet and calm becomes frantic and needy.

His thrusts are faster, and I grab his hair with my hands while his right palm goes towards my clitoris, making circular movements and giving small taps.

"Holy shit, I'm going to cum!" I scream and he continues with rapid thrusts

"Me too" he says weakly as he looks at me.

I feel like I can see stars as I collapse into his arms, and I feel thick liquid being poured inside me.

My whole body goes limp as I feel him grabbing me with his right arm and slowly withdrawing his cock from inside me, soon being replaced by his fingers that try to keep his liquid inside my body

"I fucking love you" he says "and I would never be ashamed of you"

And it was at that moment that I knew everything had changed.

[rosenallies]

‘is someone sleepy’ with planymphia 🥹

“I have absolutely no idea why you agreed to this,” Jane said under her breath as she shut the front door, leaving her and Nymphia alone with their coworker’s toddler, the little boy babbling and poking Nymphia’s cheek as she held him.

“Oh, stop it, Janey, it’ll be fine! Look, he’s so cute!” Nymphia said happily, holding him out for Jane to see.

Jane looked at the child, his chubby cheeks and wild curls were quite cute but as soon as she reached out to take him from Nymphia, she retracted her hands, imagining that she’d drop him on his head. “He’s cute, but children and I do not mix well.”

Nymphia rolled her eyes. “It’s only a couple hours, we’ll be fine. Here,” she said, handing him off to Jane, who took him awkwardly, holding him away from her body, “take him into the living room and find something for him to watch while I go make us lunch.”

The baby looked at Jane and she looked at him, almost immediately he burst into tears, forcing Jane to pull him closer to her, bouncing him on her hip like she’d seen Nymphia do. “Nymphia! He’s crying!”

“Put on that kid’s show with the dog, Bluey or something!”

Jane huffed, carrying the crying child to the couch and setting him down while he still sobbed. “Okay, okay, don’t cry, it’s gonna be fine,” she promised, assuring herself more than the kid.

She searched through Disney plus until she found the show Nymphia told her about and put it on, sighing when relief when the kid stopped crying and clapped his hands. Flopping back down on the couch, she sighed, though he’d only cried for a minute or two, she was glad it was over. Though, the feeling of anxiety returned when the kid climbed in her lap, Jane freezing.

“Oh look how cute!” Nymphia cooed when she entered the living room with a bowl of microwave Mac and cheese.

“Haha, yeah, so cute. Can you take him now?”

“Be nice,” Nymphia warned, though she had a smile on her face, “here, buddy, let’s sit and eat.”

The toddler whined, clinging onto Jane.

“He likes you.”

Jane sighed, swallowing her discomfort. “Okay, okay, fine, just don’t get any food on me.”

“Babe, I hate to break it to you but if you want to stay clean you’re gonna have to help him.”

The baby looked up at her with big eyes and something ever so slightly tugged on Jane’s heartstrings. “Fine.”

Nymphia watched with a warmth in her chest as Jane fed him.

“See, you are good with kids,” Nymphia said softly once he’d eaten and was resting against Jane’s chest, eyelids growing heavy.

A gentle smile on her face, Jane shrugged. “Maybe he’s not so bad. He is kind of cute,” she said, looking down at him and cooing, “is someone getting sleepy?”

He yawned in response, tucking himself under Jane’s chin before falling asleep. Nymphia switched off the tv and turned her attention toward her girlfriend. “Do you think you’ll ever want kids of your own?”

Feeling a bit taken aback by the question, Jane shrugged again. She never thought much about the possibility. When she first came out, her mother had told her how disappointed she was that Jane would never have any children and until Nymphia, Jane never saw herself settling down enough to think about that anyhow.

“I don’t know,” Jane admitted, lacing her fingers with Nymphia’s, “I used to say never but I also said I’d never fall in love with anyone either, so you never know. What about you?”

“I don’t know either but I don’t think I’d want to have kids with anyone but you.”!

[kiwanopie]

omg please more saiki k, i am starving and you have fed me. you write saiki so well

Psych Kick

cw: suggestive language from saiki.

wc: 1k

Saiki’s been glued to his phone all day.

Saiki’s been staring at his phone since their morning classes started, thumbs rushing quietly over his little screen, eyes twitching toward his pocket every time it buzzes - and it’s almost funny seeing him pretend to be bothered by it. Not like he doesn’t immediately reach in his pocket every time the professor turns his head, tap into it a few times and scroll up; just to repeat the process all over again.

Kaido squints from his spot beside him. Every time he tries to lean in to sneak a peek Saiki casts him a dirty look. Last time he even used his Telekinesis to straighten his spinal cord and now he can barely turn his head. - But can you blame him? He hasn’t seen him this interested in his phone since the cafe left QR codes across campus for free coffee jelly and even then he was satiated by noon. But it’s rolling around three o’clock, and this lecture ends at three fifteen, and he’s been tapping his foot since two thirty. If he’s really in a relationship like he says he is, then he wonders what the two have to be talking about to get him so antsy?

Kaido catches the eye of Kuboyasu who seems to have caught on to Saiki’s weird behavior.

He makes a pointing down motion from where he’s sitting behind the two, furrowing his brows into a questioning grimace.

“Can you read what it says?” Kaido twitches his head in his direction and mouths after glancing at his distracted friend.

“What?” Aren mouths back.

“Can you read?”

“Can I read?”

“Yeah!”

“Obviously.”

Kaido kisses his teeth.

He freezes when Saiki straightens his back again to slide his phone back in his pocket and he isn’t spared from another dirty look as he turns his attention back to the lecture again.

He has to wait until his phone buzzes a few minutes later to gesture again to a distracted Saiki. Kaido points his head towards their friend’s phone, and Aren nods his head like he gets it now.

Kaido furrows.

“That concludes today’s lecture.”

Saiki’s up without a moment to spare.

It’s an effort not to trip as Aren clumsily scoots his way through the row of seating, accidentally scuffing his shoe on the end corner of a desk and knocking into a less than pleased Saiki. “Ouch! Sorry!”

Saiki quickly rights him before briskly stepping out of the auditorium.

Kaido furrows at Aren as he meets him at the door. “What was that about?”

And like the very opposite of a godsend he is, he pulls the stolen phone out of his sleeve.

“You stole his phone?!”

“That’s not what…?” Aren makes a puzzled face. He really is a delinquent!!

“Don’t just-“ Aren dodges a frantic and quite fearful Kaido. “Don’t just look through it!”

“Didn’t you wanna know who he was texting? Oh-” He throws his head back. “This guy’s got a girlfriend.”

“Yeah he does and those messages are private so-“

“Weren’t you peeping earlier?”

“Yeah?! So what?!”

“So-“ And then Aren freezes.

If a guy could both blush and go pale then he’s sure that's a phenomenon that he might be currently privy to. By the way Aren’s just suddenly stopped breathing, gaping into a vacuum and breaking into a cold sweat. He doesn’t know if he should be more intrigued or concerned. But if the tinted ears are any guarantee, he’s surely gonna pick the former.

Kaido leans in. “What?”

Baby: i’ll put on the polka dot dress! the green’ll match ur glasses!!!

Saiki: You know it’s just a cafe? You don’t have to get all dolled up or anything.

Baby: yeah but it’s your favorite cafe and i like dressing up for you?

Baby: also it’s new and it’ll be the first time im wearing it out

Saiki: Really? Then I can’t wait to see it.

Baby: !!! is ur lecture over yet? where do you wanna meet up?

Saiki: By the fountains, I’m already on my way.

Kaido tilts his head. Oh? He has a date! There’s nothing wrong with that? Although it is a little strange to see him look all lovey dovey with somebody else. But there’s nothing too out of the ordinary about that?

Aren scrolls the chat up a few times.

Baby: ur not going to your dorm are you?

Saiki :That’s where I live unfortunately.

Baby: you should stop by here maybe

Saiki: Yeah? Why?

Baby: because i miss you:(

Baby: and because i can still smell you and feel you all over me… and my fingers aren’t quite doing the trick

Saiki: God, you’re needy.

Baby: don’t you miss me too? :((

Saiki: Obviously.

Saiki: Give me a minute to put my things away. I’ll come over and fuck you till you cry.

He’ll…

The force that snatches the phone out of their clutches is nearly enough to crack into them like stone. Both collectively choking on their own breaths but no better when they peer up at the scowl bearing down on them.

If looking mad as hellfire was a thing they’d be burnt to a crisp and served as kabobs by now. Even madder when he turns his phone back at himself and sees the string of messages they were nosing at. Let’s hope they didn’t scroll any higher.

But like he has a death wish. Worse than death wish. Aren swallows whatever last morsels of spit left in his body to swallow, and looks up at his pink haired friend with a glance of appraisal.

“I didn’t… know you had it in you..” This guy’s suicidal. “Seriously.” Seriously?!

Kaido whimpers as Saiki raises a glowing hand up at the two and prays that he’ll at least be merciful enough to let him have an open casket.

Until his phone starts ringing.

He sighs after glancing at his screen, hurriedly swiping as he turns for the door. “Moshi moshi,”

The two swallow as he glances back in his leave. “Yeah… Sorry. I’m on my way.”

reblog for free 5.99$ coffee jelly 🍰

[keehomania]

REBUKE (책망) (DRABBLE)

✧.* 18+

not much to you, not much to your name. stripped bare of everything that made you normal, sane. bare naked under your nightgown, maybe that was just the way he liked it when he went to town. barely any clothes to you, let alone something to your name. maybe it was fate, the way the photo fit the frame. when you’re dealt a bad card, what’s there to do? you pray to god with your hands on your knees and he tells you, fuck it, just deal, that’s what i expect of you.

pissing on the stove just to put the fire out, it explained why the walls had started to fall apart and move about. the floors creaked and the paint had started chipping long ago, maybe that was the first card you had grown to know. mommy would tell you to put a brave face on, to put your trust in god, all of your burdens would be gone. maybe he really was there, and everything would be fine. but he wasn’t listening, maybe he was busy turning water into wine.

taehyung was there, and he managed to care. he called it brotherly love, but it wasn’t enough. you had seen him cry when he wanted to be tough. when daddy started drinking his money away, taehyung made sure he kept you at bay. he was full of love, you seemed like a leech. all you did was watch him, even when he was out of reach. he didn’t seem to mind, you were his little girl, after all. he had to protect you, you seemed so fragile, so small. every time you felt cold in the middle of a storm, you’d suck on his leg just to feel warm.

he was reckless, made a name for himself with the cops. everyone swore he was evil, but you swore he was not. those same cuffed hands kept your body warm, they kept you together when you had been torn. he was so good to you, really, only you. as long as you were good to him, he would be too. he liked his guitar, you liked ballet, but no differences mattered as long as his sister was okay. he never prayed, he just did as he pleased. so you were shocked to see him with daddy, on his knees.

mommy started praying more, it was all she knew. rotting in the bed, it was all she could do. she couldn’t move or talk, but she was still there. she had her eyes closed a lot, but you knew she aware. praying, begging, asking why she had been dealt such a card. why did he intend on making her life so hard? when her eyes were open, she watched you with a smile. her look was sympathetic, she had been doing that for a while. she loved you a lot, you knew it in your heart. you wondered if her end meant having a fresh start. something smelled rotten, and it had started to spread. nobody really noticed, maybe they were already dead.

the floor had started off cold, but warmed up with your touch. it was a constant cycle, and you weren’t left with much. it’ll be over soon, you thought, daddy's just hurt. mommy’s gone now, she’s been living in the dirt. but you looked so much like her, when he drank, he couldn’t tell. you knew it when you felt him, you could recognize the smell. you never listened to god, so you chose not to rebuke. you just let him touch you, use you until you puked.

you were never scared of god, there was no such scare. what you were terrified of was, maybe, he wasn’t even there. who would be your witness, would anybody care? would the paintings on the walls come to life, or would they continue to stare? would anybody break bread, or would they let you famish? would they, too, pray that daddy would vanish? you thought of taehyung, hoping he would hear your pleas. you thought of him some more when daddy said, “get on your knees.”

taehyung had his problems, he couldn’t get out of his head. he had made a name for himself with the feds. you didn’t care, he loved you just right. he helped you clean up when he got home that night. maybe you were too scared, maybe even in a haze. taehyung knew you had seen better days. he didn’t have to ask you what happened, he knew better. he saw the way you prayed and wished you could just leave together. you knew it would kill him, the blood that trickled down your thigh. he still caught a glimpse, but he wanted to deny. he wanted to think you had fallen and scarred, that the bruises on your knees were from praying too hard. but he knew better, and so did you. he loved you more than you ever knew.

when daddy died, he died in a rush. that was when taehyung told you to hush. “you didn't see him go, he just disappeared. he left us because he was sad mommy isn't here.” you nodded and told him it would be a secret, you pinky swore that you would keep it. he loved you, he did everything for you. it kept you warm, and it was all you knew. he managed to take away what hurt you the most, you were a parasite and he was your host. you didn’t mind it, and neither did he. he knew it was the only place he wanted to be.

the thought made his hands shake, someone hurting you. it wasn’t enough, what he had to do. red stained his hands and anger tainted his soul, the work of the devil had taken its toll. he found himself praying for you to finally be okay, for men just like daddy to be kept away. you blossomed under his love and his care, when he hugged you tight and kissed your hair. why was is unnatural, why was it wrong? if love was pure, and he had done it for so long.

this is different, you thought, your brother was never a fraud. let us love one another, for love comes from god. this time, you listened to god, and you chose not to rebuke. you just let him touch you, use you until you puked.

✧.*

[ravendruid]

Vaxleth and number 28 a kiss in the rain👀

Helloooo! Thank you for sending a prompt, friend <3 Because this is a repeat prompt, I wrote it in the Be In My Eyes universe. It happens during the week between Chapter 29 and Chapter 30. (Here's the link to the entire fic, if y'all need a refresh *wink*)

A Kiss in the Snow

(Read on AO3)

Finals week is hell, that is widely known, but Vax’ildan is thankful to have someone who makes it a little bit more bearable, even though Keyleth can be an unending well of stress and anxiety, which, in turn, spikes his anxiety. They have been studying at the library most of the afternoon, and Keyleth has finally entered what Vax has started to call the ‘info-dumping out of her ears’ phase of studying, which is to say: Keyleth is not absorbing any new information but is instead dumping all she has studied on Vax. 

If he didn’t know how stressed she is and how much pressure she puts on herself to have the highest grades, Vax would find her rambling adorable, but as it is, Vax knows Keyleth is reaching her limit, and he knows the next stage is not going to be pretty, so he grabs the hand that has been twirling a pen for the past fifteen minutes, and decides, “We’re done for today, Kiki.”

“What? No I still need to review–”

“Nope. You’re done,” Vax takes the pen away from her and starts closing her books. “We are going home, maybe we’ll stop at the coffee shop for a hot cocoa, but we’re done studying today.”

Keyleth pouts and, for a second, Vax almost falters, but then he sees the twitch in the corner of her eyes that signifies stress and his will returns. “Don’t bother trying to convince me otherwise, Keyleth,” He says stoically, then starts putting away her stuff in her backpack. Keyleth resigns to his wishes with an eyeroll and takes her bag from Vax’s hand to finish packing while he packs his own stuff.

“You’re a buzzkill, Vax.” 

“You’ll thank me later when, instead of barging into my room crying for comfort, you’ll be nice and relaxed watching a movie with me.” Vax shrugs. Keyleth gives him a stink eye that he knows is because she won’t admit he’s right, then gets up and starts leaving. 

The snow crunches under their boots as they leave the library. Keyleth is all bundled up with a thick, woolen coat, a handmade knitted scarf and a beanie, but all Vax has is his hoodie on top of a long-sleeve, which, unfortunately, it’s not enough layers to keep the cold away.

“Aren’t you cold?” Keyleth points out. 

“Freezing, but what can I do?” Vax shrugs. He gets closer to Keyleth, who wraps her arm around his to try to get some body heat into him. “It’s not like I can afford clothes right now.” 

With the holidays coming up, the twins' bank account is growing emptier every day. Vax has already started looking for temporary jobs, but he hasn’t had much luck yet. Hopefully by the time the semester ends Vax will have found something. 

“Are you sure there is nothing I can do?” Keyleth asks, even though Vax has already made it clear that he doesn’t need her to go out of her way to make sure he’s clothed and fed—she actually ignored the last part because she keeps “accidentally” buying too many groceries and keeps “allowing” the twins to have her food, which Vax is secretly thankful for.

“I’m sure. I’m looking for a job, which should help. I think Vex has a job secured, too, for the break, so it’ll be alright.” Vax says. Keyleth drops the conversation and changes topics to exams, which makes Vax want to roll his eyes. He doesn’t do it, though. He knows Keyleth is anxious and she needs to talk about it, so he lets her speak until his ears start bleeding.

“And next semester I think I’m going to replace Anatomy with something a bit more fun,” Keyleth says, more to herself than to Vax.

“Anatomy is fun, though.” He jokes. Keyleth gives him an amused side eye that makes him snort.

“You say that because you’re the best in class at it,” She points out. Vax laughs at her argument. She’s so right. “What can I say… I love studying anatomy,” He jokes with a wink, then stops, turns to face Keyleth and leans close to her face. “Especially with you,” he whispers huskily. 

Vax loves when Keyleth gets this flustered around him, how her face grows increasingly red and her lips part in a shallow pant. He loves how her body seems to have a mind of its own and leans into him, how her hands usually end up fisting the clothes at his chest and pulling him flush against her. Vax loves the little reactions that he can only witness this close to her, the little twitches of her lips, the fluttering of her lashes, the upturn of the corner of her lips.

“May I kiss you?” He mutters. Keyleth’s eyes widen in surprise—at the request itself or the fact that Vax wants to kiss her, he doesn’t know—but she nods her consent, so Vax cups her face and kisses her softly.

Keyleth tastes like coffee and pastries, her lips are soft and warmer than Vax’s and so, so delicate. Vax could live like this forever, in her hold, kissing her in the middle of the street. He would do this every day for the rest of his life if he could, and Keyleth is not showing any signs that she wants to stop, anyway, so maybe they will.

Until something hits Vax’s forehead. Something damp and cold. Then another one hits the tip of his nose, and his hands, and his head. One after another, drops of rain start falling on them, growing increasingly faster, harder and colder. 

“Is it—” Keyleth interrupts the kiss to look up. Her eyes shine with glee as the first flake melts on the tip of her nose, then another on her forehead and she starts bubbling with laughter.

“It’s snowing,” Vax laughs. They hold hands in the snow, grinning at each other like fools. Keyleth’s face is rosy from the cold and the warmth of their kiss, and Vax knows he is just as flushed as she is.

The snow starts falling faster and, in less than a minute, their hairs are speckled with white, which makes Keyleth laugh again. She tries to wipe a few snowflakes out of Vax’s hair but he brings her hand to his cheek instead and melts at the warm touch. “You’re so beautiful,” Keyleth says in a hushed tone. “So are you,” he returns, cupping her cheek and leaning into her again. From this close, Vax can see the little bits of snow dusting Keyleth’s lashes, which, together with the inviting redness of her lips, makes him want to kiss her again.

“Yes,” Keyleth whispers as if she read Vax’s mind, then closes her eyes and leans until her lips are brushing his.

Vax doesn’t delay the kiss. He holds her tightly and lets their lips touch, then their tongues explore each other’s mouths. The snow keeps falling, faster and harder, and Vax knows they only have so much time before they need to run back home before they get soaked to the bone, but for now he is going to enjoy the moment and drink in the feeling of Keyleth’s lips on his as if it’s the last time he gets to do it.

[lonelybiscuits]

I know I normally write silly little skits, but this one is a little more serious and long.

Feed me

TRIGGER WARNING: EATING DISORDERS

Gantlos had cooked for all of them that night. It’s not that didn’t have meals together, they were all just on their own schedules and had different likes. Today, however, Gantlos had Anagan set the table and had everyone sit down like a family. Anagan insisted that this was cheesy and unnecessary, but Gantlos had found it very necessary. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw Duman eat, at least not a proper meal. He, Ogron and Anagan sat down together, but when Duman arrived, he insisted he wasn’t hungry.

“It’s just pasta you big baby, it’ll be good for you” Anagan teased

But Duman sneered, “then you eat it, I’m not hungry, and I’m going to bed.” His words held obvious irritation.

Anagan tried to question his attitude, but Gantlos just insisted everyone else eat to build strength, he’d hunt some real game when they had time. Ogron appreciated his efforts. They gave each other a look of acknowledgment. Afterwords ogron began to clean up.

“ Are you going to talk to him, or should I? I don’t feel he’ll be as receptive if I do it.” Ogron wasn’t brushing this off, rather he was stating a fact. Duman, for as close as they were, wouldn’t open up to him the way he might Gantlos.

“Yeah, I’ll figure out what’s makin him so gloomy,”

Gantlos made his way to Dumans room. He was just looking in the mirror at himself, the echo of what that fairy had said rang in his mind.

Ugly beast

Ugly

Beast

He hadn’t even noticed the tears starting to well up in his eyes before Gantlos spoke.

“Alright, that’s enough of that” he threw the mirror out of the window.

“Oi!”

“And don’t you start crying, I hate all that. Now what wrong with you? You got a bug in your brain makin you not eat? So ya need to get dewormed or something?” Gantlos had attempted a joke, but Duman didn’t laugh, he didn’t even look at him.

“I’m perfectly fine-“ Gantlos cut him off by holding something to his lips. A piece of dark chocolate.

“Open”

Duman stood dumbfounded, “I’m not a baby and I don’t need to be fed-“

“Your body is fine. I don’t know who or what made you think it’s not enough, but I will find them and rip them apart myself” he tried once again to feed the smaller wizard. After a sigh he took off his hat and sat on the bed. “It’s not your body I care about, I mean I do care but that’s not the important part. That is the shell my Duman is inside of. And you’re killing the only warm piece of you I can touch, the only part I can see”

More silence followed, Duman then removed his shirt, staring down at himself , “Why…” the question wasn’t directed towards anything in particular, it was just him trying to sort out his feelings.

“People on Earth like to break beautiful things. Unfortunately you’re one of them,”

Duman solemnly sat next to the blonde and opened his mouth, Gantlos fed him and said, “now don’t expect me to cuddle you or anything”

“No…is there more? Of the food you had made?”

“Yes”

“…can I eat it in here?”

“Only if I’m here too.”

“Alright”

Gantlos went to retrieve the food, coming back to his friend’s side

“I’m gonna have to spend the next night or two with you, aren’t I?”

“Gantlos?”

“What?”

“Feed me”

And he did, he did because the comfort of the action alone was what was healing his friend .

That night as they lay there, Gantlos spoke.

“Don’t expect me to baby you every time you feel down on yourself. “

Duman smiled, he knew Gantlos would do whatever it took to help him, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He closed his eyes and smiled until he fell asleep, the warmth of Gantlos next to him was all he needed to feel something. To feel beautiful. To feel accepted.

[fruit-colored-ninja]

Thinking about nya and how often destiny strips her choices away from her again. She’s a character who is constantly being told what she has to do, with what she actually wants being seen as irrelevant by… everyone, basically. I think the first time we really see this is in season three, when the perfect match machine tells her Cole is her soulmate. Nya’s already trying to distance herself from Jay, and when this happens, she shows interest in Cole for a bit, but it clearly never would have occurred to her to think about it if he hadn’t shown up as her perfect match, and if she hadn’t already been feeling uncertain about being with Jay. (Also, I think that since all the tech in Borg Tower was already infected with the overlord virus when this happened, the only reason Cole popped up as her match was because the overlord could see it was the best way to create instability in the team, further using Nya as a mean to other people’s ends.)

So first, Nya is told that Cole is her perfect match, which means she has to consider him even though the only thing she can really find to say about him is that he isn’t Jay, and she certainly isn’t planning on telling either of them. Except them Pixal tells everyone, and now she has to choose, and it’s not even really about her anymore, because Cole and Jay are so busy fighting over her that they’ve forgotten to even consider what she wants, until she finally gets fed up and decides to choose neither of them. And while she gets to make her own choice this time, she still spent the entire season getting pushed around by someone else’s idea of what’s right for her.

Next: Samurai X. Nya made her mech by hand, it’s the thing that first allows her to participate in the plot in season one, she continues to use it for the next four seasons, and she loves it! She doesn’t even want to be a ninja, she’s happy doing her own thing and getting to use her own unique skillset, separate from the others. When she’s told she’s the elemental master of water, there’s no compromise: she has to leave Samurai X behind and become a ninja, even though Samurai X is something she’s poured her passion into from the very beginning. She does leave it behind, but reluctantly, and it’s clear it’s something she still struggles with and misses doing seasons later.

Lastly, the one where destiny really gets involved: Jay’s vision on the ice. Jay’s been gone for Nya since the pilots, before he even met her (which is a while different can of worms honestly),and absolutely nothing, not her trying to create more space between them, not them fully breaking up, has changed that. So obviously he’s ecstatic when he sees that they will (because there’s no room for maybe when destiny’s involved) end up together, but for Nya? It’s just another choice about her life that she doesn’t get any say in.

Flash-forward to season six, Jay’s acting all weird because he thinks he has a chance with Nya again, meanwhile Nya’s acting all weird because she just got forced into an entirely new role on the team and now everyone’s calling her the girl ninja, and since this is the same season where the ninja are all wildly famous, she’s also got a whole mob of rabid fans asking her to pick, pick, why won’t you pick? Cole or Jay, Cole or Jay, just choose! No wonder she’s acting especially irritated with Jay, because she’s basically being forced into boxes on all sides, and then she finds out that, surprise! Jay’s convinced he has a chance with her again because turns out destiny literally told him, hey, you two are meant to be, so go for it, dude!

And maybe she really does like Jay, but how is she supposed to decide that when destiny itself is telling her the choice has already been made? If what she thinks doesn’t have any say on the outcome, does it even matter? Even when she finally tells Jay that she does think his glimpse into the future will happen eventually, she doesn’t say it’s because she likes him. She just says that she doesn’t doubt that it’ll happen.

I don’t really know where I’m going with this, but I think it’s something we should talk about more. Also, someone get this girl some autonomy, please. She deserves to make some choices for herself.

[queenburd]

okay all, here’s the last TSP fic I will be doing for now. it’s a really tidy closing point, and I have a couple other writing projects to work on. one’s really short, but the other is a monster I keep taking breaks from.

THIS IS NOT THE END OF TSP, I definitely have more ideas for these fellas, but right now it’s just a good place to pause on the fic front.

Read All My TSP Fics Here

anyway, here ya’ll go.

--

co-op mode.

Stanley is in high spirits today!

There is no particular reason for this, or perhaps it’s a multitude of things. A while back, he had convinced the narrator to occasionally swap the lounge out with that stocked employee break room, and it’s on one of his most recent runs that he’s had the luck of it spawning. Well fed and hydrated, he’d had a power nap in the boss’s office, then done the press conference ending for the hell of it. Both he and the narrator get a good chuckle out of it, he’s found, and have ever since that first run where the fellow had really strung him along for a few minutes.

So yeah, he’s feeling in excellent form today! He’s even feeling up for a speed run, or maybe a run at the 430 door achievement. Oh, sure, he got those achievements years ago, but they still put a pep in his step, and invigorate both of them.

The narrator seems in good spirits as well, if a bit on the quiet side. He usually gets like this when he’s trying to work on something alongside the narration, or if he’s examining the files after a recent bug (once, during the insanity ending, Stanley found the next room in the loop didn’t spawn, door only leading to blackness, and he fell through the floor to the fellow’s panic; the narrator had spent a good 20 minutes trying to understand what went wrong, before Stanley had play tested it and discovered the prior door hadn’t yet closed, resulting in the next room not loading in until he’d forced the door shut).

But he stays on his narration, if only using some of the varied, shorter lines, and he still seems delighted to go along with Stanley’s detours. Perhaps the good energy is just contagious.

Stanley spins in his chair at the beginning of this new loop. He’s definitely thinking speed run, yeah.

“Stanley? Can I call for a pause before you get started?”

Stanley blinks, looks up at the tiles of the ceiling, and grins, his hands behind his head. What can he do for the fellow this fine day?

“Well, aren’t you just in the loveliest of moods.” It’s only a little mocking, but still pleased. “Well, I—I have a surprise for you, but I do think I need a few minutes to get it all set up. What do you say to running the story proper, only on your own, for a round? And then,” and here he sounds full of nervous anticipation, “next turn, you head to the Stanley Parable 2 exhibit show?”

Sure thing, bud. Should Stanley take his time with the run?

“Mm, no, I think I can have this all sorted by the time you’ve finished that speed run you’re so eager for. The wonders of loading screens, you know.”

That he does. It’ll be a bit weird to do it without the voice, but he knows those lines by heart. He can manage a run.

Hang on—surprise? Wait, did the fellow—

“Ah-ah! No spoilers!”

Oh he totally did. Stanley snickers and gets to his feet.

[ Race you. ]

“Brat,” the narrator says fondly. “Shall I count down, or—oh, you little cheat!” Because Stanley has already run out his office and through the first room full of cubicles, laughing. His friend’s own surprised laughter follows him to the room with the doors.

Stanley zips through the halls and up the stairs with a newfound eagerness. He’s got motivation, and enthusiasm, and he crosses the length of the boss’s office with a hum. The narrator has not opened the secret passageway for him, but since there’s no narration, Stanley is able to punch in the code without pause. Mm, those beeps always sound so pleasing.

An elevator ride down, a jog through the open doors under the large emboldened letters, and then down the catwalk to the button that turns on the lights. One metal fence, two, and then another elevator. Stanley drums out a beat on his thigh as it ascends, bouncing in place.

A room filled with beautiful, colorful buttons—oh, the hours he’s spent in this room, just to see if any of them affect any of the monitors, any of the digital battery symbols. (The narrator has joked about one day coding in a secret puzzle, too complex to solve within the time-frame at all, which would reset at a single error. It’s mean. Stanley hopes he’ll do it.)

He mustn’t get distracted—he’s almost finished with the run, and then he gets to finally see—

He hits the OFF switch hard enough that it stings his palm. Come on, come on, open faster!

And then Stanley is bolting down the catwalk to the grass. An artificial breeze ruffles his hair. He grins like a loon. The sky looks a little brighter than usual, but maybe that’s just him. He’s just so damn happy.

THEENDISNEVERTHEENDISNEVERTHEENDISLOADING

Stanley inhales deeply, letting his chest full up to the brim. That felt ridiculously good. The intense elation has passed, but there’s still a small ribbon of satisfaction tied neatly around his heart. Damn.

He can feel his heart thudding in his chest, but this time he knows it’s out of anticipation. He’s nervous, it’s hard not to be, but Stanley feels more excited than anything.

He stands, stretches his spine, and rolls up his sleeves. And then Stanley leaves his office.

There’s no voice to greet him, which he expected, but it’s still always a little eerie. He makes his way through the office, past the cubicles and the bucket, and  there, where door 416 used to be, is the New Content door.

Still no chatter, as he rides the track and then the elevator. Nothing when he enters the modern entrance room, or weaves through the halls, or walks past the signs. Not even anything on the stairs or the red carpet.

Stanley’s work shoes click on the tile of the show room. Now that he’s here he finds that he’s slowing down, heart rate ramping up and thudding loud in his ears. He’s… anxious. Why is he anxious?

What if he misinterpreted the surprise? What if it’s something else entirely, and he has to work to not seem disappointed? What if he did accidentally have some predisposed mental image that doesn’t match—

Stanley passes under the archway beneath the stairs, and stops in his tracks.

Looking up at the large Collectible statue is a stranger. It smiles up at the Stanlurine, examining it closely, hands clasped behind their back as they rock on their heels. The gentleman is comfortably dressed, knitted green jumper over a faded yellow collared shirt, simple black slacks absolutely covered in creases, and loafers that look well loved.

The individual glances in Stanley’s direction. For a moment, their eyes go round behind the large frames of their spectacles—and then the fellow smiles, like he’s truly so genuinely happy to see Stanley that he can’t help how the grin breaks across his face.

He hasn’t said a word, but Stanley knows him. Stanley knows his best friend.

The narrator waits, smile still lighting up his face, as Stanley finally approaches. Stanley is… slow to move. Almost hesitant. He takes so long, just staring wordlessly and thoughtlessly, that the smile starts to become a bit strained. The narrator’s eyes flick from his face, away, and then back.

Stanley stops in front of him, and the fellow swallows. The smile finally slips off, giving way to uncertainty. Stanley can tell his hands are fidgeting behind his back.

The narrator opens his mouth, a croak of a syllable slipping out in the same moment Stanley lifts his hands to sign.

“I—“

[ Can I touch? ]

The narrator’s mouth snaps shut. He stares at Stanley like a deer caught in headlights, and then nods.

Stanley’s hands seem to have a mind of their own. They place themselves first on the shoulders (wider than Stanley’s, solid, the jumper texture so soft he would think it’s knitted by hand) then the upper arms (firm), and then one of his hands finds its way to the fellow’s cheek.

The face that is looking up at him is older than his, lined with creases. Thick eyebrows, springy hair in varying shades of gray. The kind of hair that could be styled quite nicely, but is prone to being tugged at and made a mess of when one is in a panic.

The hand not on a cheek cups an ear. These ears are large, indicative of a good listener. It traces a pert nose, turned up at the end, perfect for sneering down the length of with great pretension. His thumb follows the Cupid’s bow, covered by a thick mustache that merges into a full beard which hides the swell of a second chin.

His eyes, bright and full of life, are hazel—they live somewhere between light green and gold, almost like the hazel of cat eyes. Stanley imagines the color would look different under different lighting.

He looks exactly like the sort of person who would have the voice that he does. Someone who wants to seem wise and full of important things to say, but can be lazy and proud and prone to overthinking.

He cups his narrator’s face.

It suits him.

The smile returns, if a little more shy this go around. Those cheeks flush pink, just a little, and Stanley feels the muscles under his hands move and heat. The narrator wiggles in place happily, looking ever so pleased with himself.

God, his wiggles. Stanley’s not gonna get over this for a long, long time.

Stanley finally releases his face and can’t resist the temptation to loosely sink the fingers of one hand into that mess of curls. It’s just a little bit coarse, individual strands springing between his knuckles.

Yeah. Yeah, he likes this model a lot.

That smile has taken on a smug sheen. “Truly my best creation to date, wouldn’t you say? I’d go so far as to call it a masterpiece.”

Stanley takes his hands back. Nope. Not entertaining this fellow’s ego, no matter how much Stanley likes him and likes this thing he's made.

“Oh, don’t be so contrarian,” the narrator tuts, still looking far too satisfied. “Please, do go on about how appealing and pleasant you find my features. I’m looking for real feedback here.”

No, he is fishing for compliments.

He pouts, lower lip jutting forward. Stanley looks away quickly. “Well then,” the gentleman sniffs, turning his nose up (oh god he was right, it’s perfect for that, dammit), “I suppose I’ll just have to put it away then, if it’s not all that impressive—“

He’s nearly knocked over by how his protagonist loops arms around his waist and lifts him, spinning them in the air.

“H-hey! S-Stanley, ah!”

Stanley is grinning again, really grinning so much it nearly hurts.

Look, this is what he wanted, isn’t it? His model being beheld and appreciated? Stanley needs to know about the whole thing!

“Down, down, put me down! We’re going to fall, you—you stupid—stupid!!”

The narrator is a good solid weight, and although Stanley is taller by a good few inches, he’s not exactly made of muscle, so even while arms loop around his neck for support he’s putting his friend back down, soles on the pristine floors.

Winded, his narrator glares at him. He’s—oh, he’s quite close. Their noses are nearly touching. His arms don’t dislodge from where they are on Stanley’s shoulders and Stanley’s arms don’t unwind from his firm, soft middle.

Stanley blinks. Feels how his cheeks heat.

The glare shifts into that smug smile again.

“Flatterer.”

He didn’t—!

“It’s all over your face, Stanley. You’re an open book to me,” comes the condescending tease.

Alright, you know what, two can play at this game. Stanley remembers what the narrator said last time he had a body. Just how long did he spend trying to find, what was it? “Lips worthy of kissing him”?

And there goes the smile. Those eyes (gosh, Stanley can see so much variation in the colors, this close) flick away like a nervous rabbit, before he closes them and sneers irritably. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response,” he sniffs.

Wow. That long, huh.

The eyes fly open again, outraged. “I said—!”

Stanley laughs, and then he presses his forehead to the fellow’s. He feels just so utterly content in this moment.

His friend is here. He’s warm, he’s expressive, he’s here.

“O-Oh,” the exclamation is soft, “Hello.”

Stanley opens his eyes. The narrator looks up at him through fine lashes, expression a bit dazed.

Okay?

“I—yes,” he says, though he seems unsure. “It’s okay. Oh, do you really like it?”

His voice, so quiet, is sincere and perhaps desperate for approval. Like he’s truly uncertain. Stanley nudges their noses together for a moment.

Yeah. Yeah, he loves it, he really does. No jokes, no teasing, no pandering or anything. And not just because it’s another person either.

It just really, really fits his friend. Honestly it does. It’s the exact kind of person Stanley would expect to be sitting at a writing desk for hours, fussing over a story and its details, making a cup of tea and then forgetting about it entirely, surrounded by crumpled papers of rejected ideas and tugging at his hair when he’s frustrated. The kind of person who’s just a little lazy and forgetful, and wants to make lovely things for other people but is utterly temperamental and prone to irritation.

It’s him, it’s so him. He did such a good job.

“Not—not all of that was complimentary, you know,” the fellow huffs gently, though there’s no heat in it. He seems mostly enraptured by the sheer fondness in Stanley’s thoughts.

Yeah, Stanley knows it wasn’t all sweet. But then, the narrator has an ego and Stanley can’t help but tease a bit. Besides, doesn’t it all seem completely correct?

“Yes,” the narrator grumbles, averting his gaze. “It does sound like the kind of human I would be.”

Stanley squeezes him gently one more time, and then finally releases his friend. The narrator seems reluctant to part, but he takes the offered hand. Stanley twines their fingers.

He’s wondering what to show him first. Maybe the hole? Or the balloons? They can go to the merch booth and feel out the different textures of the shirts, since the fellow probably doesn’t have a lot of experience yet. Would he like coffee? Soda? Will they be able to get back to the office? Did the narrator fix the issue with resetting?

The narrator laughs at his enthusiasm. “Slow down, Stanley! What’s the rush?”

But there’s just so much to show him!

His tone gentles. It is a tender thing, full of real, quiet joy.

“We have all the time in the world.”