#man ive been itching to just talk about this for a while

[pankomako]

sometimes i think about interactions boat and i have had and things he's said to/about me over the years and it makes me feel as though i must occupy some little space in his heart. like i live in his mind rent-free the way he does for me, although not nearly to the same extent lmao.

speak of the goddamn devil i just got a steam notification he's playing tf2

anyway i never thought i'd have that kind of effect on a person, much less my favorite content creator. but it sure appears to be that way, and idk. it makes me feel special. warms my heart n all that :)

[just-some-random-blogger]

Why Not Me? | 1

Part 2

Love is beautiful. Love is lovely. But lately, to you, love is a form of self-harm.

Rockstar!Gwayne Hightower x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, Modern AU, low key fix-it-fic, canon divergence, DD:DNE, body dysmorphia, body shaming, smut (cunnilingus, piv, biting, marking, licking, they're messy yall), fluff, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: THIS INCESTUOUS SHOW i changed the family tree for the sake of this fic and ive FIXED EVERYTING SHUT UP you cant do anything about it anyway ok ok ok. im half sorry it became so long. idk how many parts i wil do T_T save me. also i cross posted this on ao3 MASTERLIST/PLAYLIST

Tagging: @ceoofyearning @pendragora @worms-on-multiple-strings @barbieaemond

You can hear the live music playing from the inside your car. You take a deep breath and look at yourself on your phone before stepping out. You smile and fix your hair, "maximum slayage has been achieved."

You exit the camera app, catching the text icon when you do. You bite your lip. Your thumb itches. You open it, checking the last message you have that you've not replied to.

From Harwin: Are you at your sister's already? Can we call?

You clench your jaw and place your phone in your purse. You sling your purse on your shoulder and grab the cake on the passenger seat. You tell yourself to forget about the text as you walk towards the open gate of the white picket fence.

You smile at the garden, happy to see it in real life again and not just during video calls. You brush off your iridescent, pink dress before ringing the doorbell. As you wait, you look around the neighborhood. All the houses here were as expensive as the one next to it.

The door opens. You turn back and grin as Alicent squeals, "YOU'RE HERE!"

"I'M HERE!"

She can't help but kiss your cheek before leading you inside. You talk and walk, and the moment you set the cake down, your best friend immediately seals you into a hug, both of you squealing.

When you break away, you lift your eyes to the chandelier and point, "is that the new chandelier?"

Alicent beams and spins beneath her beloved light source, "yes! I swear to the Mother if someone fucks up my chandelier again-"

"Oh, ho, ho, ho!"

Both of you turn to the man waltzing in with horrible dance moves, "speak of the devil." Viserys walks over to you, coming in for a hug, "she returns! Alicent's been waiting on you for ages."

You share a hug while Alicent makes a face, "can you blame me? She works at the fucking edge of the world!"

You pull away and raise a hand, "okay, one, dramatic-"

"No it's not," she red haired woman crosses her arms, "you literally work next to Harrenhal."

"That is a gross simplification," you wave your hand, "and two, why don't you visit me for a change?"

"In your shitty apartment?" she makes a disgusted face, "no."

You make an offended noise and glare at Viserys, "you've turned her into a stinky bourgeoisie!"

Viserys makes a face and Alicent shakes hear head. She places a hand on your shoulder, "no babes. Your apartment is simply crappy."

You make another offended noise and shake her hand off. You turn back to her fiance, "anyway. Happy birthday, Viserys!" you motion to the box on the counter.

"Is that what I think it is?" he gasps.

You scoff for effect, "yah."

Viserys opens the box and makes a dramatic sound at the sight of the chocolate cake. He turns to Alicent, who shakes her head and sniggers. The man whisper-yells, "triple chocolate cake!!!"

You laugh. Your best friend repeats, "triple chocolate cake. Now what do we say?"

Viserys seals you into a tight hug. You squeal when he pulls you up enough for your feet to leave the floor. He groans excitedly as he puts you down, "oh, you are perfect, my dear. Thank you so much."

The overly affectionate gesture leaves you a bit awkward, but you play it off with a chuckle, "you're welcome."

Alicent clicks her tongue when Viserys swipes some frosting and licks his fingers, "Viserys. Get a plate."

"Oh, fuck, I feel like I'm in uni again," he sighs at the sweet taste, "should I grow out my hair?" He rubs the trimmed sides of his hair.

Alicent cringes, "absolutely not. You looked like a sickly lord in uni."

"But love-"

"Oh, I knew you were here."

You look over your shoulder. Your stomach drops. You shift awkwardly as Daemon walks towards you with a grin. "Figured from Alicent's squealing," he says before pulling you into a hug.

He rubs your sides and it makes you feel overly conscious. You mutter as he pulls away, "how've you been, Daemon?"

"You know me-"

"High as a fucking kite?" Viserys answers for him as he takes a slice of cake.

Daemon flips him off but smiles at you, "just dandy, love. And you?"

"Oh, you know, wet."

Alicent slaps a hand on her forehead.

Viserys snorts.

Daemon raises his brows.

You realize your mistake and backtrack, "n- no- I mean, cause- cause Riverlands!"

He snorts and your body tingles. He shakes his head and sighs, "and here I thought it was because of me."

Alicent raises her brows and takes that as a cue to leave. She pulls Viserys back, who whines because he hadn't gotten his cake yet. She slaps his arm and lies about needing to check on something.

"Did you bring someone?" Daemon asks.

Your stomach rolls at the insinuation he was interested in knowing if you had a date. You dramatically look around, "do you see anyone?"

He purses his lips and shakes his head, "well, I was hoping your sister would come around."

You stiffen. Your sister? You manage a chuckle to play off the stinging in your gut; it doesn't sting any less though. You half-smile, "Mysaria's in Lys."

He raises his brows, "still?"

You knit your brows, "still?"

"I just figured her vacation would be done by now."

You feel your eye twitch. You raise a finger, "how'd you know she's on vacation?"

Daemon simply shrugs, "I follow her on Unstagram."

A scoff spills from your lips as your brows raise, "she let you follow her?"

"Yeah," he shakes his head and furrows his brows, "why wouldn't she?"

You clench your jaw. You feel your skin crawl. It's as though your body was being stretched into oblivion. You press your lips into a tight smile and rub your belly as your agitation builds. You shake your head and shrug, "I didn't think you were that close. She's pretty private."

Daemon is supposed to say something, but then his attention is stolen by the sound from outside.

"This next song is called Breathless," followed my cheering.

His expression shifts. He throws his thumb over his shoulder, "shit. I uh... I have something-"

You nod before he can finish and Daemon effectively runs off.

Once you're alone, you let it catch up with you, the loathing, the disgust. You look around you and feel bile rise up your throat. Everything was beautiful. Everything was pristine and put together. From the color of the walls, to the furniture, even to the tiny pieces of décor.

This is Alicent's dream home. She found a man that loved her and he got her that white picket fence she's always wanted. She's living her dreams because... she's someone's dream girl.

You walk towards the mirror in the common room and stare at yourself. The makeup you spent hours on and the sundress you overindulged in now looked lack luster. Whatever convincing you did in the car has gone. You think about Alicent. You chuckle bitterly as you think of your sister, "oh, Mysaria." You were nothing but a disgusting blob, next to the statuesque her.

You grow angry at yourself when your eyes water. You pace around to calm yourself, "it's fine. I just won't eat any sweets." You force a smile at the mirror, "or carbs," you fix your hair, "I'll just have a bev. I ate already anyway."

When you no longer feel like crying, you let yourself join everyone outside.

Your eyes immediately fall at the platform and band setup across the large backyard. Viserys really went all out; there were lights, a sound system, and everything.

You try to make out the band playing. You immediately recognize Criston in his cream colored suit playing the bass, though his hair was snipped short and he had massive shades on. You knew Aemond was a guitarist but there was only a blonde with short platinum hair on the keys, and he never cut his hair, so you debated if it was really him in that leather suit jacket. But then you saw Aegon and his shaggy, jaw length hair, drumming yet again sans shirt showcasing all his tattoos and figured the other blonde had to be his brother.

Then, of course, there was Gwayne. If you couldn't recognize him by his guitar playing, or his distinct baritone, then you would by smirk and auburn hair. You sure did. There was a bit of sheen on his forehead, but even then he moved as cool as a cucumber. He looked good in his dark blue suit. I mean, they all did.

You remember Alicent talking about how excited Viserys was to have Oldtown play for his birthday, how they cleared their schedule and all. Though you weren't a close follower, you somehow felt proud of them, having watched them perform in shitty bars a couple times in university. To see them have the success they do now makes you feel honored to have been one of the few people who said they were going to make it. And judging by how people were singing along, they made it.

You were agitated by the size of the crowd. It still baffled you how many friends the Viserys had, but then your remember he's an old money businessman... and an extrovert. You rub your stomach as you search for Alicent. You spot her alone, cringing by the buffet table as she poured herself a drink. Immediately, your anxieties dissipate because of her and her unabashed dislike for her brother's music.

You walk over to her and sway your hips exaggeratedly to song. Alicent stills when she sees you, and makes a revolted sound before raising her pointer, "stop it."

"Nuh uh," you throw your hands in the air and move your hips, "it's a good song!"

Alicent rolls her eyes, which only makes you laugh.

From across the yard, Gwayne's attention is stolen. He watches how light catches in your pink skirt as you grind against his sister, much to her disgust. He smiles between lyrics, making the crowd react.

"Oh, come on, babes," you watch as your best friend chugs her drink, "you have to at least be proud of your brother."

Alicent shakes her head, "I am! I'm so glad that people like his music enough that he can perform it somewhere far away from me."

You turn to the buffet table when you catch the aroma of your favorite stew. You gulp but tell yourself you shouldn't eat. You decide to pour yourself a drink.

She catches you, "you want me to get you a plate? I ordered your favorite-"

"No," you shake your head, " 'm just thirsty."

She knits her brows, skeptical of your words as she was aware of your destructive tendencies. She decides believe your reassurance, though her gut was telling her otherwise.

She turns back to Oldtown and catches her brother looking. She shakes her head and flips him off. Gwayne chuckles, not because of her though, because you finally turn around. This entices another reaction from the crowd, which Alicent wretches over.

You sip on some punch and shoot her a look, "oh, stop being so sour, baby."

She glares and points, "you try listening to your brother and your cousins sing about the women they've shagged and tell me then if being I'm sour."

You bite your lower lip, but break into a laugh anyway, "you got me there."

Alicent's eyes widen for emphasis, "yeah. And I don't even mind it when people ask me about 'em, but I really, really don't want to know how badly you want to fuck my brother."

You laugh again, no longer holding back this time.

She laughs along. She loves seeing you this way, "you look absolutely stunnin' in your dress, by the way."

The compliment flies over your head.

"Pink is 100% your color," she says with genuine enthusiasm.

You sigh and offer a smile, "it better. This dress costs me a fucking arm."

"Well, it does," Alicent affirms, "you look like a fucking queen."

Your heart swells. Yet again, your best friend breaks into your layer of self-hatred. You nod and agree for her sake, "I really do."

The next moment, the crowd breaks into applause, signaling the end of the song. You cheer along, though you hadn't really paid attention. You turn to the stage and find Gwayne looking your way. You smile and he smirks back.

Gwayne pushes back his strapped guitar and grabs the mic, "thank you. I hope you all enjoyed our set." He shields his eyes as he looks through the crowd. He points once he spots Viserys, "happy birthday again to you, brother."

Alicent claps with the crowd. Viserys laughs as his friends shake him wildly.

"Thank you so much for your endless support, and your endless money." Gwayne chuckles before motioning, "it's been Criston, Aemond, Aegon, and-" he places a hand on his chest, "- Gwayne. We are Oldtown, and you have been a wonderful crowd."

You applaud as the band gets off the stage. They settle their instruments with their stage riders and you look back to Alicent. Before you can speak, her eyes widen as she takes a sip, "idiot in coming."

You look back where she was, brows quirking in surprise when you see her brother jogging over.

Gwayne immediately tries to snatch Alicent's drink, but as she anticipated it, she effectively dodges then chugs. He groans, "oh, thoughtful."

She manages to make a face as she gulps. Some liquid dribbles from the sides of her mouth.

"And classy," her brother's forehead wrinkles.

You chuckle at their antics and shake your head, deciding to pour the man a drink yourself.

Gwayne gives his sister an annoyed look when she sighs for effect. She wipes the corner of her mouth, "it's my drink."

"I would at least expect-" his words falter when he realizes you weren't even beside him. He cranes his neck to look at you before looking to his sister, "-you'd be willing to share after I've slaved away for your pleasure."

"Oh, I can assure you I found no pleasure in this. And have you been so out of practice 8 songs is slaving away for you?"

Gwayne chuckles but is uninterested in continuing the argument; his interest was never in his sister to begin with. He turns to you, digging his hands in his pockets, "and who might you be?"

Alicent turns between the two of you then deadpans, "seriously?"

Gwayne smirks. In his head, his sister's reaction is of being a protective friend. He's admittedly had flings with her friends before, but he's never been deterred by his baby sister's wrath.

But the truth is, that's not at all the reason why Alicent shakes her head incredulously, "my friend from college, you absolute goldfish."

He furrows his brows at Alicent.

At this point, you procure a cup of punch for Gwayne and hand it to him with a smile. He looks at you then the drink you're holding out. He takes it with a smirk, making sure your hands brush as you do. Oh, he is smitten.

None of that registers to you. You return his smirk with a genuine smile.

It doesn't register with Alicent either, which is why she complains about something else entirely. Her lips curl, "you've done it now. You've fed his ego. He's going to be insufferable."

You shake your head and laugh.

Gwayne licks his lips, laughing along, body tingling at the sweet sound of your voice. He does not look his sister at all as he replies, "I've always been insufferable."

You catch his look. Alicent rolls her eyes, "oh, thank gods he's at least self-aware."

Again, Gwayne reacts; he chuckles, but his eyes do not leave you. He shakes his head, "did you transfer after I graduated?"

You knit your brows at the notion, "no," you chuckle, "I'm actually your junior. I took Music Production at King's Landing too."

His face falls and his brows raise.

You chuckle brighter as you nod, "yeah... we were even classmates in, what, two subjects?"

Gwayne wipes his face. You laugh at his stressed expression. "No fucking kidding," he clutches his jaw. He shakes his head again, "what classes did we share?"

You press your lips together in thought, "the... one with Mr. Boldwood."

"Are you serious?" he mutters, "the one where we scored horror films?"

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember you added sound effects instead of music and Mr. Boldwood was like, yeah don't do that, it's a scoring class, not an SFX class."

Gwayne runs his hands through his auburn hair and tugs on the collar of his dress shirt. He loosens his tie as he sighs. By the Seven, how does he not remember you?

You laugh and wave him off, "it's not that big of a deal. You were always too tired to talk in class."

That was true.

"No, it is," Alicent blurts, and he agrees. "Make him feel bad for not remembering you," she shoots him a look, "I literally went to one of your concerts with her, you imbecile. The one where you forgot your guitar and we had to drive-"

"To Highgarden?" Gwayne's jaw slacks.

"Yes, to Highgarden."

Oh, he is stressed.

You feel bad, and shake your head, "to be fair, I wasn't there when she gave you your guitar. I was the one driving and didn't get out because I didn't want to get towed."

Gwayne nods. He watches how your brows quirk and how your lips curl.

You assure him once more, "it's fine. Really... and anyway-"

"Oh, you stop it," Alicent cuts you off.

You turn to her, "but it's tru-"

"No, it's not!"

"I usually just fade in the background of people's minds. I'm not very memorable."

"You are!" Alicent argues, "Gwayne's just an fucking idiot."

Gwayne points at her, "and I am completely agreement."

Before you can respond, Daemon suddenly walks into the conversation. You turn to him, seizing up as he brushes against your shoulder. You turn to your drink and step back. Daemon says, "Viserys is asking about the mixer and-"

"Did he touch the damn mixer?" Alicent says, "I told him not-"

"I told him the same thing," he raises his hands.

She groans and rolls her eyes. She raises a hand in regard before walking off, "gimme a sec."

Daemon follows her. Your eyes follow him, allowing yourself to look a while longer than you should have.

You best believe Gwayne catches it all. His lips twitch and his brows pull back in annoyance. He mutters pointedly, "so Daemon, huh?"

You turn to him, "w-what?"

He chuckles dryly at your coyness. He takes a sip before glaring at the said man, "so you have a thing for annoying cunts?"

Your face falls.

He shakes his head before tilting it, "the imbecile has no redeeming qualities. It's an anomaly why woman chase after him." He scoffs, expression growing even more bitter, "probably his money." He drinks some more punch, cringing at how sweet it was, then finally turns back to you.

He is both annoyed yet subtly amused by how affected you are by his dislike for the Targaryen rat. He sighs, "for what it's worth he, himself, thinks I'm also an annoying cunt."

You raise your brows, realizing he wasn't just saying this. Then out of nowhere, you find it incredibly stupid and downright hillarious.

Gwyane finds his expression softening at the sound of your laughter. His annoyance did not wane, but still, he smirks and brings a hand into his pocket, "switch to me instead."

You laughter dies down but it's too late, you weren't paying attention. You shake your head, "I'm sure he doesn't actually think that."

"Oh, trust me, he does."

You wipe a tear, "no way. He's actually a closeted Oldtown fan."

Gwayne laughs, loud and mocking. The taken aback giggle that leaves you is the only reason he actually starts laughing genuinely. He clutches his side and moves towards the table, "is he now?"

You watch him put his drink down, "he is! He practically ran out of the door when he heard you announce the last song."

He sniggers, "pathetic bastard," he steps closer, "but who can blame him? I quite like Breathless myself." He brushes his lips and looks you up and down, "though I much prefer someone who dances to my songs unabashedly."

You smile, unaware of him still, "oh, I'm sure you do."

Gwayne, in truth, is also unware of you, far too wrapped up in the way you smiled and how your skin glowed in this light. In his head, this conversation was going swimmingly, because when has it ever not— Which is why he says, "let's go dancing in my bedroom."

You do a double take. Your jaw drops, "I beg your pardon."

He tilts his head, "I have about a hundred records and a vinyl player. I'm sure your dress would look even prettier under my lights."

When he takes another step forward, only then do realize what's happening. His stance. His eyes. His lips. It's all coming together. It stabs into your belly and you're suddenly bleeding all over yourself.

Your breath hitches. He catches it, and causes the corner of his lips to quirk. He is pleased. "What do you say?" he leans on one leg and brings his hands in his pockets.

What do you say?

You say you were still reeling from your sobering encounter with Daemon. Of course you always knew he was a playboy and he slept around, of course you knew he would never be seriously interested in you, but realizing any sort of interest he had in the first place was because of your sister again— it doesn't hurt you any less. It hurts you more each time. The next second, you are reminded of every man who's ever shown you interest and recall what they really wanted from you.

And as your mind raced with these thoughts and the sight of Gwayne Hightower— multi-award winning Gwayne Hightower, front cover of Rogue magazine Gwayne Hightower, Oldtown hearthrob Gwayne Hightower-

"Alicent doesn't have to know," he mutters and shrugs.

Oh.

He gives a lopsided smile.

If you somehow didn't know before, you know now exactly what he wanted from you.

You turn to your feet. But Harwin...

You scoff at yourself. Who were you joking?

You feel pathetic enough for you to look up and say, "okay."

Gwayne examines your face. He notices how your expression shifted but still, his smile spreads. He reaches a hand to you and you take it without a second thought.

You walk off and you don't even bother looking for Alicent at all. Before you leave, you do encounter his cousin, Aegon. Your eyes lock as you pass each other, and so you decide to smile at him, "nice tats, Aeg."

He freezes and watches as you and Gwayne leave.

Gwayne raves as he drives, telling you about The White Walkers, how it was his favorite band and how excited he was when Oldtown got to play with them. He rambles some more before asking you about your tastes. You brush him off at first, uninterested in indulging conversation.

You shake your head, "it's not very interesting."

"I'm pretty sure I get to decide what I find interesting or not."

You watch him give you that trademark smirk of his and you want to so badly believe he wasn't just saying that to get in your pants.

You don't but you humor him, "I'm more of a jazz sort of person."

"Aha," he maneuvers the steering wheel, "so extended chords and irregular tempos get you going?"

You lean into the passenger seat and smile, "don't forget nonfunctional harmony."

His dimples deepen. He takes a turn, "so what, you're too good for The White Walkers?"

"I did not say that."

"Well," he sighs deeply, "you don't seem to want to say much so I'm going to have to make things up as I go."

You shake your head and roll your eyes at him. You look out the window and miss the way he smiles at you.

"Fine," you start, "there's an artist called Khiara. She's makes incredible music. She's Lengii, and she infuses a lot of her native sound in her music. It's stunning."

He nods, "Khiara."

"Yeah..." you give him a passing smile before looking away again, "she's great."

"I'm sure she is."

He did not mean it in a mocking way, but it comes across to you as such. You scoff and resign to watching the buildings pass.

"Are you a jazz musician by taste and profession?"

You roll your eyes at his adamance at small talk, "I'm a music teacher."

His brows quirk, "what? No way, that's-"

"Underwhelming?" you look back at him.

"Cool," he spares you a look before bringing his eyes back on the road, "you teach jazz?"

"I teach 4th graders."

"Even better," he smiles, "I couldn't teach a dog to bark even if I tried so, consider me impressed."

"Mmm. I'll add it to my CV."

He snorts.

You look out the window again, "that one rockstar is impressed by me."

He leans an elbow on the car door and brushes his lips as he chuckles. Gods, you were a dream.

When you reach his apartment, you realize just how much of a rockstar he really was. His place was huge, and he had such eccentric furnishing, from a full on display of a suit of armour, to posters of obscenely niche bands. They didn't make sense and yet they fit perfectly together. And when he said he had a hundred records in his bedroom, you think he was actually playing it down.

You both take your shoes off before entering his bedroom. Gwayne leads you by the hand and motions to his collection, "I'm sure I have something here that's jazzy enough for you."

You raise your brows at him and pull away, effectively stopping him in his tracks before he can go through his records.

His brow quirks, "what is it?"

"Did you really take me home to dance in your bedroom?"

Gwayne chuckles as you walk past him. He eyes your body as you inch towards his bed and sequentially sit by the foot. You place your hands on your knees and raise your brows at him. He licks his lips and shrugs, "did 'dancing in my bedroom' sound like an innuendo to you?"

You scoff out a chuckle and roll your eyes, "you really are an annoying cunt."

Gwayne lowers his gaze, licking his teeth. He saunters over, hands in his pockets. He stops once he is directly in front of you, "do you want me to stop?"

"Stop what?"

"Being an annoying cunt?"

"I want you to stop wasting my time," you retort, "unlike you, I work a 9-5."

He laughs, dropping his head. He raises his hands in surrender, "damn. Where did you come from? You were so smiley and sweet not even an hour ago."

You forfeit a response and simply lean back on the bed.

That wipes the smile off his face. He looks down on you, feeling his breath grow heavy at your expression. He clenches his jaw, undoes his tie, and drops to his knees.

You can't stop your lips from parting.

He rubs his hands up your shins, measuring your reaction. You simply watch as his hands disappear underneath your skirt. Your breath hitches when he squeezes your thighs. Gwayne pushes closer, and you wouldn't have minded, had he not kissed your knee.

"Wait," you reach out to his head.

Gwayne gulps as he looks up at you, eager to know where he went wrong.

"No kissing," you mutter.

He hears it, repeats it in head, then repeats it out loud, "no kissing?"

You bite your lip and stroke his cheek, "no kissing."

It takes a moment for him to realize you were being serious, and when he does, he slowly nods, repeating again, "no kissing."

You nod and straighten up. You brush your hands up his arms then proceed to unbutton his white dress shirt, "you can bite, you can lick," you lick your lips on cue, "I'll even let you spit on me—"

"Mmm, fuck."

"—but no kissing." You slip your hands into his shirt, "you good with that, Hightower?"

"Fuck," he hooks his hands behind your knees and tugs you forward. You squeak and grip his shoulders. He slots himself between your legs, "no kissing anything?"

Your breath strains when his nails drag up the inside of your thighs, trailing to your waistband. Your brush your noses together, shaking your head, "anything."

He hisses, baring his teeth. He is unbelievably compelled to kiss you. He knocks his nose into your cheek, nostrils flaring, jaw muscles feathering. He breathes against your ear, "not even here, pretty girl?"

You feel his fingers brush across your soft belly and sink past your navel. You whimper when his fingers press into your core. He tuts and bites your neck at your attempt to you close your legs, "nah, ah, ah, ah. No fair. You need to play fair with me, sweetheart."

You rest your head on his toned shoulder. You squeeze his biceps, taking a moment to relax before willingly parting your legs.

He makes a pleased sound, "good girl," he nips your earlobe, "now, say it for me. Will you play fair?"

You sigh against his trapezius as your hand clutches his neck. You lick his skin before biting and whimpering, "yes."

"Seven gods," he groans, turning to kiss you. He tilts your head back, lips nearly landing on yours, but the sight of your smeared lipstick reminds him that he can't. His mind raceswith all the things he wants to do you. He starts by smearing your lipstick with his thumb and biting your lips.

You whimper and push him by the chest.

He licks your cheek and shakes his head, "I'm not kissing you, baby."

You dig your fingers into his hair and pull him back, "annoying fucking cunt."

He laughs and pulls away. His hair is messy and your stomach drops when he swipes the lipstick on his thumb on his lower lip, "I am. Now lie down." He bunches your skirt up.

You refuse to fully lie down, wanting, no, needing to see him. His eyes stay fixed on yours as his nails bite your thighs and his teeth stake their claim. He shakes his head, nose brushing against you, "told you to lie down."

"Mmm," you comb the hair out of his face, "want to see your pretty face."

He smirks and rids you of your underwear, throwing it somewhere in the room, "we'll see."

Gwayne sinks into you, his tongue and lips lapping into your folds. He works with confidence and feasts in a way that makes you writhe. You are powerless against his finesse. Your breath strains as you fall on the bed. He grips your hips, keeping you from moving too much, and you are never not amazed at just how strong men can be, "mmm, 's what I thought."

Before you know it, all you can do is arch your back, tug his hair, and call out his name. It only inspires him to be more diligent. He basks in the power he has over you. He moans as you become increasingly frantic and curses when you come undone all over his mouth.

He allows you momentary repose as he rises from your legs. You look up at him, heart racing as he licks his lips. Fuck, he was beautiful. You wipe the sheen off his chin and feel your stomach drop when he licks your thumb.

Let it never be said that Gwayne Hightower is a talentless prick. Go say what you want about how he sings and speaks, but gods, the man can use his mouth.

It was both so quick and not quick enough until you're both naked. Gwayne has to make the conscious decision to leave bites on your skin instead of kisses, and you suppose this is the reason why he ends up trapped beneath you. You take advantage of his distraction and lose yourself as you ride him, unabashedly bouncing on his hips as your hands reveled in his toned belly. He squeezes every part of you he can get his hands on, relishing the firmness of your hips, the delicateness of your breasts, the softness of you. It was in these moments you didn't mind your build, knowing well these mortal men looked at you like a goddess.

He can't help himself and sits up to graze your skin. He leaves marks all over your throat and nips your lips every time you drive him wild with your noises. He thinks about how badly he wants you to stain his mouth with your lipstick, and in that moment, you push him back and shift your weight into his shoulders.

He curses for the nth time and brings one hand up to the base of your neck. You lean into his touch. His thumb brushes over your lips and you suck on his finger. It makes him claw at the small of your back with his other hand.

Gwayne watches the way your body quakes at the force of your actions. He commits the sight to memory as he feels his belly tighten. He pulls his thumb away with a pop and aids your movements with the thrust of his hips. You call his name out like a mantra as you feel pressure building inside you.

And then it was hot and electric. And then you felt yourself melt into a burning mess as slowly your bones turned to jelly.

You fall into his chest and catch your breath. You can feel both your hearts racing with your sweaty skin pressed together like this.

Gwayne wipes his face and brushes his hair back, mind hazy, mouth dry. Before he can bring an arm around you, you're pushing yourself up and climbing off him. He turns to your side, expecting you to lie next to him, but you make him knit his brows when you grab your dress from the floor, "where's your bathroom?"

He rolls on his belly and points, "just outside."

You cover yourself with your dress and pick up your underwear. You quickly find the bathroom and open the light. You give yourself a jumpscare when you catch reflection on the mirror.

You look like you were caught in a violent accident, with your hair messy and your lipstick in places you didn't expect. You body looked horrendous, worse under this lighting. You gulp and wonder how horny Gwyane must have been to want to take you home. You feel pathetic. You feel nasty. It's no wonder why no one's seriously interested in you. You were a disgusting fat fuck who's only point of interest is her pussy.

You wash yourself as much as you can, get dressed, and take a few deep breaths before exiting.

When you step back into his bedroom, you hear music playing. Was that-

"Khiara," Gwayne says, still sprawled on his belly, butt naked. His eyes are on his phone, "she is incredible."

You look around for your purse, wondering if it was here on in his car.

He turns to you when you do not respond, his expression dropping upon seeing you dressed. He sits up, "is something wrong?"

You spot your purse and smile to yourself, "nope. Just need to call an Ubor."

He watches you grab your purse and pull out your phone. It takes a moment for him to register what was happening. His pride is wounded, "you're not going to stay?"

"Like I said, nine to fi-"

"Tomorrow's Sunday," he leans into his thighs.

You glance at him, catching his sullen expression.

"Don't go."

You ignore the bubbling in your stomach. You chew your lip and walk towards him. He watches you intently. You rest your knee on his thigh, and he immediately straightens up to grab your hips. You take his chin and look at the mess on him, your lipstick, your slick, your spit, then whisper, "I've got things to do."

He rubs your sides, "do they do you better than me?"

Neither of you react.

You think about the convenience store you passed on the drive here. You decide you can wait for your Ubor there and pull away from him, "this was really fun, rockstar."

Gwayne huffs, lowers his gaze, and pinches the bridge of his nose, "no, wait-"

"Good night," you walk off.

He grabs his pants, "let me drive you home."

You ignore him and rush to his door, "good night."

"Wait, dammit!"

You sigh in relief once you're out his home. You forfeit the elevator and head to the stairwell. Halfway through your descent, the door above slams open, and you look up to see a frantic looking Gwayne.

"Really?! The stairs?!"

You wrap your arms around yourself, watching him runs down to you. His face is still messy. His shirt is unbuttoned, and his pants aren't zipped. He sighs, shaking his hands, "what?! what? Am I a bad driver?"

You bite your lip and shake your head.

He huffs and waves a hand, "am I a bad lover?"

Your stomach rolls. You turn to your feet, "I wouldn't know, you're not my lover-"

"Fuck- am I a bad... fuck- sexual partner!" he blurts, zipping his pants then adjusting his shoes.

"No," you chuckle guiltily, "you were... you were amazing-"

"Rate it 1 to 10," he begins to button his shirt.

You look up at him incredulously and sigh, "Gwayne, I just really want to go home."

"Then stop bruising my ego and let me take you home," he shakes his hands in frustration. You stare at each other for a moment. The look on his face makes you want to be swallowed by the ground. You go down a few steps, and Gwayne steps once before sighing. He places his hands in his pockets, "I just... I thought it was going really well."

I look up at him.

He another step forward.

Your mind races. You can't help but relive all your bad memories in this moment. The sheen on his chest tells you bad this is going to hurt if you dive into it. Gods, fucking around with someone in Oldtown? You shrug, "it was, I think."

"Then," he steps forward and grabs your shoulders, "let's at least end it on a good note." You watch him motions with his head, "and let's take the fucking lift while we're at it."

He heads for the door. You suck in a breath and simply go down.

Gwayne holds the door for you and does a double take when he sees you walking off "seriously?"

"Stairs or nothing, buddy. I need the cardio."

"Well, if it's cardio you want," he rushes after you, "I am happy to help."

You glare at him once he's beside you.

Gwayne chuckles at it, feigning a look of innocence, "I have a treadmill in my flat. I don't know what you're thinking, dirty girl." You roll your eyes, making him laugh, "well, I mean I do, you practically jumped me."

"Oh, what, like you didn't think of it."

He gasps, "I am a gentleman."

"Mmm, you must think you're cute."

"Not nearly as cute as you," he grabs your arm once you reach the next door in the stairwell, "now for the love of the Mother, let's fucking take the lift."

[bonbon-acide]

KLANCE MOMENTS THAT STILL LIVES INSIDE MY HEAD AFTER 8YEARS BUT WITH THE EYES OF A 20YO

1. We are a good team

Remember how we were all so moved up by that one scene where they just stare at each other and say something meaningful AFTER A FIGHT (where Lance was severely injured). We were all freaking out but it was totally normal that Keith would be emotional by the fact that one of his teammate was okay, we were just freaking out bc the scene was in purple bc the spaceship was infested by the galra which means everything was totally not trying to say anything else, it was just coherent :,)

2. Lance and Keiths drones scene

We were so thirsty for anything that even just a little fight (which was totally a daily occurance) would be turned into something else. Like yeah they were bumping into each other but people were freaking out by saying they basically accidently kissed like what????

3. The elevator scene

Okay imma be honest this scene is quite suggestive especially when your primarly audience are teenage girls that are into shipping boys. But now that i look at it with my adult eyes i just cant imagine how incomfortable that must been to be back to back topless with someone you can't stand. Like the friction of the skin it itches my brain. Also the shot of Keith's foot? Was it really necessary

4. Keith? My man

Again what were we thinking??? They just bonded over a little something ofc Lance was happy that Keith was being nice with him bc he thinks that he hate him (which he don't). I dont even know what to say but dear god that scene was so important to klance shippers. Anyway we were thirsty god

5.Scene where Lance goes to Keith to talk to him about not feeling like he belongs in the crew after Allura piloted the blue lion

Basically just a normal conversation. They've been through so much together and Keith is their designated leader, so ofc hes going to talk to Keith about his place in the team and ofc Keith is going to reassure him that his place is with them bc he actually cares about him since they need to bond to form Voltron??? But yeah this scene is cute and it still makes me go aaawww

6.Blaytz (original paladin of the blue lion) being implied that he might be queer

Okay Ive only remembered this while rewatching the show but i remember everyone went crazy bc if the original blue paladin was queer (implied during one scene that didnt even last 3sec) that means Lance was queer as well. Like what were we thinking??? Were we out of our minds (yes definitly and im still ashamed) (but shoutout to Blaytz for being the best original paladin nothinh can makes me hates him)

7. The sunset scene

OKAY LISTEN IDC WHAT YOU SAYS IDC ABOUT ANYONE'S OPINION BUT THIS SCENE HAS ME BAWLING

AS A 20YO WATCHING THE SHOW NOW, THIS EXACT SCENE CONVINCED ME OF KEITH'S FEELING FOR LANCE. IDC ABOUT ANY OTHER "SUGGESTED KLANCE" SCENE BEFORE THIS ONE, THIS SCENE IS THE ONLY OFFICIAL KLANCE SCENE AND IDC IF ANYONE SAYS THAT KEITH SAID THAT BC THEYRE JUST FRIENDS.

AS A GAY MAN WHO HAD AN HOMOEROTIC SITUATIONSHIP WITH ANOTHER GUY BEFORE, I CAN TELL YOU THAT YOU ONLY SAY THIS KIND OF STUFD TO THE GUY YOU LIKE BC YOURE TOO AFRAID TO TELL YOUR FEELINGS TO YOUR FRIEND IN FEAR OF REJECTION AND BECAUSE YOUVE JUST LEARNED HES GOING ON A DATE WITH AN AMAZING GIRL AND YOU ONOW THEYLL BE HAPPY TOGETHER WHILE YOU JUST WATCH WONDRRING WHY YOU NEVER SAID ANYTHING

(this scene hits too much home than it should be and i think i only speaks with my feelings for this one)

ANYWAY

As a 20yo person with 8years of hindsight I'll say that Keith definitly had feelings for Lance, the sunset scene was placed on a perfect time while this dialogue could have been said anywhere else in the season or even the show, and Ive just recently refinished the entire show and Keith never said something so emotional to someone except Shiro (but he considers him as a brother and he was about to kill him so i understand the whole emotional dialogue).

As for Lance, I doubt he has feelings for Keith canonically but hey that doesn't mean we can't imagine things.

Looking back now, I realize how fucked up some of us were for this ship and we probably bored everyone of the cast with this freaking ship. Honestly Voltron is such a good show with good animation and well written characters and we shouldnt have been so angry that a silly little ship wasnt endgame while they gave us such beautiful content for two years(except the end of s8, sleep with one eye open).

Be fucking grateful you dipshits. We werent queerbaited, we had others queer reprensation throughout the show (alien lesbians my beloved) and Voltron isnt a romance show

But still kind of sad that Klance isnt canon but thats my 12yo talking i guess

[skzhua]

BESTIE SJSJSJ FIRST IMMA SAY YOUR ANGST WITH THE HAPPY ENDS? ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL LIKE IVE READ PLENTY AND NEVER COULD FIND ONE THAT SCRATCHED MY ITCH (or whatever they say)😭 SOOOO I SAW UOUR REQUESTS WERE OPENED AND I RAN HERE😭😭😭 i don't have a very ... Particular request like idk the exact word but it's basically just a smol thought you can write if you like💀

So basically stumbled upon a video of Binnie talking about how memebers are when angry and him sayin all it takes for him to calm down IS ANY SORT IF PHYSICAL TOUCH

Simply shakes me to the core every time I think about him being putty in my hands 🫦🫦 (no calling me out for being delusional i will police and jail)

Idek know how to base an entire one shot around just this tiny thing so let's just pretend i was gushing if you can't either 💀💀💀

The Three Times Changbin Got Mad, and the One Time He Didn't

MASTERLIST

Pairing Seo Changbin x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Word Count: 1,777

Warnings: Swearing. (not proofread yet!)

A/N: Like you said, extremely hard to base off an entire imagine just from this so I'm sorry if this is shitty. I tried real hard for inspiration to come but Changbin is such a soft person in my mind that I genuinely can't wrap my head around him getting angry lmao. I hope this does the trick!

In the few years you had been dating the man, Changbin liked to consider himself as a calm person. In fact, he only got angry a few times. But those few times were intense.

one.

JYP criticized his song. By then, it was no surprise to anyone that Changbin had some dislike towards his big boss. However, it was not the first time he got some harsh reviews on a demo. So why did this one in particular made him especially pissed? Because he wrote it about his lover, you.

When he wrote it, he hadn't seen you in days and missed you terribly. He gave his all to this song as he arranged and composed it only a few days after writing it. Once you finally found the time to see each other, he was so proud to show it to you. Of course you loved it and almost cried because, come on, how sweet is it that your boyfriend loves you so much that he makes a song about you?

Apparently, it was not enough to be released as an SKZ-RECORD.

"Is it the melody? I could change the hook for-" Changbin started, but Chan put his hand on his shoulder as to stop him from speaking any more.

"It's not just the melody. The lyrics are very explicitly directed to a significant other and some fans might react poorly to it. Plus, it doesn't sound like the kind of music you'd release. Your tone is too soft unlike usually."

Changbin was baffled. "Too soft? What about it? Do you expect me to sing about the love of my life while growling?"

Chan felt the tension growing. "Bin, it's not-"

"You think it's bad too?" he scoffed.

"I didn't say that but-"

"No, I get it." he cut him off again. "Thank you both for the feedback."

And just like that, he stormed out of the room, heading straight to the gym. It was the only he thought of letting out the build up rage his coworkers had caused. Music blasting in his headphones, doing his nth squat, he still couldn't calm down. As he dropped his dumbbell in front of him, his attention was drifted to the door opening to his left. Jisung stood there with a small smile. Changbin removed turned off his music and greeted the younger man with a wave. Jisung dropped his things in the corner of the room where the lockers were located before he joined him.

"You started without me?"

Changbin nodded, sweat dripping on his face. "I left the company early."

"Chan told me."

Not wanting to discuss about what had happened, he turned his music back on and went on with his workout. Jisung got the message and didn't bother him any further. They exercised together in silence.

An hour later, they left to go back home. It was no surprise for anyone when Changbin didn't take the time to greet Chan when he walked in the dorm as he went straight to his room. He pulled out a bag and then dialed your number.

On your side, you were doing nothing but watching a movie. Not having gotten the proper sleep for a while, you were dozing off easily. The ring coming from your phone woke you up immediately. Recognizing the contact picture of your boyfriend, you wasted no time to answer.

"Hey." you answered with a yawn.

"Hey." Changbin said softly. "Did I wake you up?"

"No." you chuckled. "What's up?"

He sighed in hesitation. "Can I come sleep at your place tonight? Something happened at work and I can't seem to calm down."

"Of course you can, but I might be already asleep when you come."

"It's fine with me, I just need a break from the guys for a bit."

Although he couldn't see, you smiled sadly. If he needed a break from the boys, it meant something really bad happened. Otherwise, he would try to fix things instead.

"Alright. If I don't answer the door, just come in, okay?!

And that's what he did. He did argue a bit with Chan whether it was a good idea sleeping at your place when they had an early practice the next day. Still, he left harshly and went to your apartment.

As you had predicted, you had fallen asleep already. His heart did get lighter at the sight of you, but he still had this knot inside of his stomach. In silence, he slipped under the covers and closed his eyes.

two.

Changbin was already having a bad day. Not having slept much the night before, he was most definitely exhausted. So when Minho pointed out that he did not do a move the right way, it only fed his anger.

"We've been doing this choreography enough times, you should be able to do it properly." Minho sighed. "Can I see it again?"

Changbin suppressed any sign of annoyance and did as told. And he made the same mistake again.

Minho shook his head. "Try again."

And again, same thing.

"I'm sorry." he apologized in a small voice.

"We have a showcase tomorrow, you are supposed to master the choreography." Minho exhaled. "Again."

And it was the same. Maybe having called you until late at night was not a good idea after all.

"What is it with you today? Stop think about Y/N and focus."

That reached Changbin's limit. He would take any criticism or even insults, but he would never accept someone bringing you up for no reason.

"You know I can do this move normally, can't we just move on?"

"I'm just saying if you weren't so distracted with her-"

Changbin scoffed. "Don't go there, Minho."

"Am I wrong, though? I get you have your own little adventure with her, but I still expect you to be doing this properly."

"We're only practicing."

"And we visibly need practicing here."

Chan walked to stand between the two men. "Alright, I think this is enough."

"Tell that to him." Changbin nodded his head at Minho.

"I'm sorry for wanting us to be at our best."

"So the best would be for me to break up with Y/N and miserably work non-stop here?"

Minho's jaw clenched, Changbin could see it. The lack of answer was his cue that he had enough of the day. With a decided walk, he took his belongings and didn't forget to slam the door behind him.

He would have called you, but you had gone back to your parents' home for the weekend and he knew how much you missed them. So he went to the studio and drowned himself in his music. Oddly enough, he had enough inspiration to write a song. It was mostly spiteful so he would never actually put it out, but it did help. Still, even after hours submerged in sound mixing and some recordings here and there, he could get rid of the anger Minho had grown in his core.

He really wished you were there.

three.

Jeongin stole his protein shake. For anyone else, this was not an issue at all. However, Changbin took his workout very seriously. So much so that it was almost to the point he'd pass it before the members. In this case, it was definitely that.

"It's half empty." he said through the phone.

The younger man having left to start his day already, he tried his best to justify his action from afar. "I stayed over last night and woke up late, this was the only thing I could digest quickly for the day. Anyway, you told me you'd make me one at some point."

Changbin scoffed. "I told you I'd make you one on the day you stop being a little shit."

"Hey, I have been nice for quite a while now."

"Congrats? What do you want me to say? Jeongin, this was perfectly mesured for me to get through the day and I was running out of protein powder so I was kind of counting on this one for my diet."

"Sorry, I didn't know."

"You could've asked at the very least."

"I said I'm sorry, really."

"Yeah right."

And he hung up, steam coming out of his ears as he stared at the shaker.

four.

The slam of the hotel room's door made your heart stop for a second. When your eyes laid on your boyfriend coming in, you calmed down immediately. Still, the look on his face didn't scream happiness and that perked some worry in you.

"Hey, baby." you said softly while he was taking his shoes off.

"Hi."

He didn't speak any more and dropped down on the chair opposite to where you were. You knew him better than anybody else but the expression on his face was unreadable. It was negative for sure but you couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly.

"How was the concert?" you finally broke the silence.

"The usual." he answered boringly.

"The fans?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "The usual."

Something was off and it annoyed the shit out of you. "Alright, what happened?"

"Nothing."

"I'm not taking this as an answer."

He sighed, already feeling defeated. He couldn't hide anything from you, even the slightest thing. He went up to you and sat on the bed.

"It's not that big of a deal but my mic was cut and I missed a whole rap verse."

You let out a breath. "That's a shame... They fixed it at least?"

"Yeah but I got nervous after and messed everything up. Chan was on my back for the rest of the night and it pissed me off. Like, I don't know, I was trying."

You shushed him quick by stroking his hand with your thumb. Instantly, you could see his whole body relax a little. You didn't need to ask for him to crawl next to you, allowing you to engulf him in a cuddle. Rubbing the sides of his body, you kept quiet as your sole goal was to comfort him.

Changbin felt his heart pound less and less as he melted under your touch. Affection has always worked on him as a way to relax but you were a special one. Your presence could be enough for him to forget about anything remotely frustrating. You were his safe space and he felt so much love for you, no shit he would calm down so fast.

"Thank you." he whispered with a smile.

"It's nothing. Now, how about I order us some food and we go to bed?"

He moved around so he could see your face and smirked. "Are you paying?"

"Don't push your luck, Seo."

@lenilla15 | @muddy-waters | @nanaspalette | @nattisbored | @popcatx0 | @vanblack95 | @aestheticsluut | @thanxxskz | @minhoino | @taetertotsv | @luvscrazy | @lethallyprotected | @foxinnie8 | @jisuperboard | @jihanlovic | @soobin-chois | @jinxwhore28 | @purplelandsworld | @yeojoongiee | @smugrogerina | @jaehyunicecream | @urmomlikeslinotoo | @syprosight | @thesassy-mia | @chaotic-world-of-the-j | @heartsforlevi | @miyakoa | @seungincore | @skzsilentcryy

Copyright © 2023 skzhua. All rights reserved.

[kristannafever]

Big Sky Ranch - 22

Kristanna Modern AU Rated: Explicit WC: 2954

Chapter Index

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

Kristoff finished the last page and stared at it for a moment before slowly setting the stack of paper down on his lap. 

While the past couple of days in the hospital had him itching to get out, Art Weadick’s memoir thoroughly entertained him.  In fact, it had touched him.  He had no idea there was so much depth to the man, and he felt a new sort of kinship with his boss that him and Anna were asked to read it first. 

“Wow,” he let out slowly.  His eyes went to Anna, sitting beside the bed.  “This thing is going to sell.”

She was nodding.  With Kristoff taking frequent naps, Anna read ahead and had finished the book before him over the last couple of days.

All the ranch hands visited him and brought him contraband.  He had wolfed down a quarter pounder, scared the nurses were going to take it away from him, and ended up with a stomach-ache.  Still, he didn’t care.  Anytime he got some outside food he inhaled it.  The meals they gave him were that bad, even though he ate those too.

Every day he was getting stronger.  The little walks he was forced to take down the hall with his IV bag on that little wheely thing, were getting longer.  He felt his body healing, and even though he wanted to get back at it, every day felt like a gift, and he was not going to rush his recovery.

Art visited many times and had even shown up with a couple cans of beer stowed away in his coat only the day before.  Him, Anna and the old man had drunk them in Styrofoam cups they had for water and hid the cans in the garbage.  They talked a lot about the memoir, how amazing it was, and even though his boss was battling cancer and it showed, he looked like he had more life in his eyes than Kristoff had ever seen.

At nights he longed for Anna.  To have her warmth by his side.  Her breath tickling his skin.  And he was overjoyed that the nurses told him he was doing such a good job that he was going to be able to go home soon.

He thought a lot in his down time.  He thought about his future, the ranch, him and Anna getting married and someday having kids.  He thought about places they could go and what they might do if they had to leave the ranch.  Every once in a while, they had to break a horse, and Kristoff wondered if he could take a stab at being a bareback rider since he was better at it than anyone else.  It would be funny, him and Dixie on the rodeo circuit with Anna and Sven along to support them.  But it was just a little fantasy.  He knew he was nowhere near as good enough to actually make it into a rodeo. 

He thought about Buck, and what the person he’d learned the ropes from was going to do when he was too old to ranch.  He thought about Coop, how ever since Anna had shown up, they’d addressed him by name instead of Greenhorn, and had started take turns being the DD on saloon nights so the kid could let loose.    He thought about Jett and Levi, how loyal and great they were, and he thought about Davy, who’s mother was looking at a long road of recovery and he was going to stay on the east coast to be with her through it. 

And he thought about Art.  He thought about his life, that Kristoff was privy too in reading his story.  He thought about how he hadn’t seen Weadick’s daughter’s name on the page, but he’d seen his and Anna’s, even if he was using pseudonyms for everyone. 

Their boss never once asked Anna to go back to work with him recovering in the hospital, and she’d been there all day every day, sleeping in a hotel across the street when the nurses kicked her out.  Sven even told him that the boss had come down to the ranch houses one night to hang with the guys and hear about things they could do on the ranch to make it better, as well as make it easier on the people who worked on it.  And he had heard back that the cougar that attacked him was indeed dead.  Sven’s panicked, although well-placed shot, had done its job and the animal’s carcass was found not far from where Kristoff had been attacked as food for birds of prey.

All in all, things on the ranch were suddenly changing rapidly after years of staying the same.  It left Kristoff feeling hopeful and nervous at the same time. 

A nurse walked in and checked his vitals again.  Kristoff could not wait to get out of there.  He was fucking done with the constant blood pressure checks.    

After she was done, she addressed him.  “I’ve talked with a doctor, Mr. Bjorgman, and she’s going to come take a look at you this afternoon when she can.  If she’s happy with everything, we’ll be sending you home.”

A big smile broke out on his face and he looked to Anna.  “I can’t wait to get home, baby.”

The nurse laughed, and turned to leave the room, saying over her shoulder, “You two are the cutest lovebirds we’ve seen in a while.”

Anna got up and pulled him into a firm hug.  “I can’t wait to have you home.  That bed is not the same without you in it.”

Kristoff sighed into her embrace.  Things were indeed changing, and he was just thankful that he was around to witness it.

~   ~   ~   ~   ~

Kristoff was lucky that he was a fast healer.  He had an entire blissful week at home with Anna before he grew too restless and begged to come back to work in some capacity. 

His boss never reduced his pay for the entire time he was on light duty.  He said since the accident was not due to neglect or poor decision making and that it was unfair to do so, but Kristoff had to wonder if it was because the old man was thinking about his own possible death and had softened in that regard.

Art’s treatment was still in full swing, and things were starting to look positive.  It wasn’t meant to be taken as a definite sign that he’d beat it, only that time would tell what would happen.

Anna kept going with him for his treatments since he had no one else to support him.  He had not talked to his daughter since the brutal things she had said to him, and everyone could tell that it pained the old man deeply.  Even Kristoff and Anna had talked about her absence from the book.  They both agreed they understood the reasoning behind it and had to wonder if she had always been left out or if she’d been removed. 

Summer was waning and everyone was gearing up for a fall wedding.  Before Dixie, Anna’s new BFF, left to go back to her rodeo circuit, the plan was made for them to be wed.  Sven wore a near constant grin, even through the crazy heat and dry weather this year had been giving them.  Having her there for those couple of days with his brother getting stronger had given him a new zest for life above and beyond what he’d ever had.  Even Kristoff had to admit that he had a new completely positive outlook that was hard to dampen.  Small things didn’t seem to matter as much to him anymore.

Upon Anna’s suggestion, the ranch hands built an enclosed area with a chicken coop near the stable and got a bunch of chickens for eggs.  She was out there faithfully every morning collecting them to take a few to the boss’s house and the rest for the ranchers.  They all agreed they were the best eggs they’d ever eaten.  Not only that, a lot of the kitchen waste went to the chickens, like the tops of strawberries, leftover corn, and uneaten food scraps that were suitable to feed them.

One of the smaller pastures near the house was cordoned off for a small herd of goats.  Everyone helped to take care of them because it was kind of stupid how cute they were, and they were natural lawnmowers when released around the fenced area that encased the houses all the way to the front gate, saving one of the ranch hands to have to get the mower and do it.

They had hired a middle-aged rancher named Tucker, who ended up getting along famously with Buck when he moved in with him.  The two had a penchant for smokes and whiskey, and both possessed that cigarette roasted voice, bushy moustache and deeply lined face from working outside their whole lives.  They were soon referred to as Buck and Tuck.

It was a world that Kristoff and Sven had never experienced on the ranch.  There was a sudden flurry of activity and people when they’d been making do for so long while the old man basically hiding in his house.  He was out there with them often now.  Not riding out to the far pastures or anything like that, but at the houses, sometimes having a bite to eat with them, checking on the chickens, tending to the goats or going into town and finally reconnecting with people.

There were more and more visitors to the ranch.  Old friends and new ones.  He’d invited some neighbours over for a poker game one night, and everyone could hear the ruckus laughter floating down to them from the house all night long while they sat around a fire.  Everyone smiled, but none so much as Kristoff, Sven and Buck.  The change wasn’t as noticeable to everyone else having not been there as long as they had.

Then one night, Alyssa showed up to the house unannounced.  Anna was off work by then, hanging out with the guys around the grill.  They were no discernable shouting from the house like the previous time, but she did not stay long.  Everyone watched as her car pulled away from the house and disappeared from sight.   Kristoff had wondered out loud if Art had asked her daughter there to tell her about his cancer.

The next day Mr. Weadick confirmed that was exactly the reason why she was there.  He told Anna that he’d asked his daughter, and only his daughter, to come to the house, and that when he told her, she did not react much to the news.  She offered him condolences and told him to call her if there was anything she could do, then left.  Apparently, she wasn’t even reactive to his gaunt appearance aside from a slight confused furrowing of her brow when he opened the door.

Two days later, Anna was curious and looked the woman up on social media.  Sure enough, she’d made a post about unveiling a new project soon, that it was *hush hush* but very exciting, hinting with the hashtag #estatelots.  It made Anna sick to her stomach to see that, and she showed all the guys.  With their encouragement, she showed their boss, and Mr. Weadick’s reaction was one without surprise.  He didn’t confirm anything with Anna though, nor did he deny it.  He shrugged sadly and went about his day.

~   ~   ~   ~   ~

Kristoff was thrilled to be back to full duty, out on Kosta, riding with the boys and Dixie – having blown off her last few rodeos to come back early – and moving the cattle a little closer to the house where they’d spend the winter.  Art was happy to hire Sven’s fiancé on as an employee when she wasn’t on the rodeo.  With so many extra hands the workload was handled much better and everyone was getting a much-needed break after years of heavy grind.

The day was gorgeous.  The leaves were starting to turn, the morning air was crisp, and the sun warmed the earth throughout the day, making for pleasant evenings.  More and more Kristoff was taking in the beauty all around him while he still could. 

He did have some sadness about saying goodbye to the ranch, but he could not bring himself to worry about it too much.  He had his life, his health, his woman and his brother.  He was the richest man in the world.

“I kind of want to rip those fuckin’ smiles off your faces, boys,” Buck grumbled, riding past him and Sven to steer a couple of stragglers back closer to the herd.  Dixie went with him, throwing Sven a playful smile.

“Fuck you, old man,” Sven shouted after him.  He turned to Kristoff.  “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the truck bed this mornin’.”

“Ah don’t mind him.”  Kristoff waved his hand.  “He’s just getting’ pissed about this place being destroyed.   I mean the guy’s been here for thirty-five years.”

“I know, I know,” Sven mumbled.  “I just can’t be bothered to care anymore.  I got you, I got my girl, I’m getting’ married!  Life is fuckin’ beautiful my friend.”

Kristoff laughed heartily.  “I was just thinkin’ the same thing!”

“Amen, brother.  Amen.”

“So are you nervous?  It’s only ‘bout two weeks away now.”

“Hell no!  I want that woman to be my wife more than anything.  She says she’s gonna to do one or two more years on the circuit, then she’s gonna quit and have my babies.”

Kristoff grinned.  “Fuckin’ A.”

“How about you, man?  When you gonna propose?”

In truth, Kristoff had thought a lot about that lately.  In fact, he already had a plan.  He just needed a little help making it happen.

“Wait, wait!  I know that look!”  Sven practically squealed.  “When, bro?”

“I was thinkin’ this Friday, since Anna and I have the weekend off.  But I need a hand.”

“Anything!  Just tell me what you need.”

“Can you cover for me that afternoon?  I gotta whip to town.”

“Ooh, to get the ring!”

“That, and one other stop.” 

Sven raised his eyebrows in question and Kristoff told him his plan. 

His brother’s jaw dropped open.  “Dude, she is going to adore that.”

Kristoff smirked.  “Feel free to steal that one for yourself.”

Sven laughed.  “Already planned on it.  After you surprise her of course.”

~   ~   ~   ~   ~

Kristoff entered the cabin to a romantic setting.   Anna had set the table for the special dinner she said she was going to make for them to kick off their weekend.  He’d never looked forward to a Friday as much as this one in his entire life before. 

He smiled and inhaled the heavenly smell of whatever she’d prepared, and let out a slow breath of appreciation for this gift of life.  There were candles on the table, the living room lamps were on the lowest setting, and soft country music was playing from the radio while Anna was standing in the kitchen working on something.

“Hey, baby!” she greeted him.  “Come on in and take a load off.  I’ve got an ice-cold beer waiting for you.”

Kristoff removed his boots and walked into the kitchen, settling his hands slightly behind his back.  There was a surprise in both of them for her.

“Well come on, then.”  She beamed at him, waving him closer.  “Where’s my hug and kiss?”

He stopped at the edge of the island, only a few feet away from where she was standing at the stove.  “I have somethin’ to show you first,” he said.

Her eyes lit up. “Ooh!  What is it?”

He took a calming breath, then moved his left hand from behind his back.  “I’m a taken man, Anna.  I want the world to know it.”

Anna’s jaw popped open as she looked down at his ring finger and the tattooed wedding ring that now resided there.   The artist had given him a lot of styles to choose from, too much in fact that Kristoff was confused as to what would suit him.  Then the man mentioned materials like rope, and he knew that was what he would want.  The double band of rope went all the way around his finger and ended on the top with a knot they used on the ranch all the time. 

“Kristoff!” she said, grabbing his hand and admiring the work.  “That’s… oh, Kristoff!  That is the sweetest gesture you could have done!  I love it!”  She pulled him into a tight hug. 

“It’s not my only gesture,” he said, hugging her back one armed with the ring box still grasped in his right hand. 

He stepped back and immediately sank to his knee.  Expectedly, Anna’s eyes widened with surprise and her hands flew up to her open mouth.

“Anna…” He smiled up at her, calm and ready, “I love you more than anything in this world.  You are the most incredible person I have ever met in my life.  I adore you, and I want to continue to build this wonderful life with you at my side, wherever it will take us.  Will you marry me?”

“Of course I will!” she squealed and threw herself into his arms. 

He hugged her back, unable to wipe the grin from his face.  Eventually she pulled back enough so that he could slip the ring onto her finger.  After admiring it for a quick moment, she pulled him into another hug.  Then she was kissing him passionately and they went to the bedroom, locked at the lips.

Dinner ended up getting a little burnt in the oven.  Neither of them cared.

---

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

[sugar-omi]

(swiftie asker) OHHHHH MY GOD THE FOLKLORE LOVE TRIANGLE HAS ME SICK AND DYING. cue me frantically searching through the voiced dlc to see if the names betty, augustine, james, ines, etc are in there...because wouldn't it be so funny

everyone loves to talk about how betty (the narrator in cardigan and the one being addressed in the titular track) was so hurt and didn't deserve what james (the narrator in betty and the one being addressed in august) did to her...but can we talk about how augustine (narrator of august) literally. fell in love with james for the summer but knew it wasn't meant to be because he loved someone else for the rest of the year and . AAAUGGHH IT'S SO BAXTER I'M GONNA CRY

thinking about mc as james does sting a little because i'm an adamant betty defender until the day i DIE but cove as cardigan is just too perfect,,

FUCK THAT. OMG THAT DOES STING WAIT... i thought i answered this already n i really don't have much to say because well idk my taylor swift fixation burned hot but died kinda quick lol so i barely know the songs you're talking abt (well ive never heard betty before. although i listened to august and cardigan, just not often bc my heart cannot handle sad songs LOL) but i definitely didn't know this LORE.

BUT YOU REMINDED ME THAT I FUCKING, okay i always keep my MC with a crush on cove. i cannot live any other way.... but fuck, during baxter's route and several other playthru's i did, i had a crush on cove but i had MC go out with baxter... and fuck. the rawness of the reality of that...

like using the context of canon, plus this whole fucking betty-james-augustine lore or whatever, imagine baxter coming in, seeing how content and sweet your life is on this little street. it's so simple. even if your feelings are complicated, even if life is complex. your life on this street boils down to simplicity and baxter is something new, something hot.

you aren't dating cove yet, but he can see the sparks between you. he sees the glances, sees how your hand lingers on cove's shoulder, sees how cove looks at you like the world was crafted from your hands.

but he also sees how you look at him with intrigue, there's a fire flickering behind your eyes and he decides to lean into the fire. your life has been so simple, so quiet. of course you're curious about this new, young tourist. of course you're curious about how another mans lips feel, about what he'd look like with a blush on his cheeks and a flirty smile directed at you.

of course you're curious about what the ceiling of another home looks like, of course you're curious about how another mans hand in yours feels like.

even if you didn't stay with cove forever, if you satisfy your curiosity now, no one can ask if you wonder about another.

and baxter knows every this temporary, he knows he's a fire that lures you in like a moth to light but burns to touch. he knows the allure he's offering you is tempting.. temporary things are always tempting.

so even though he knows he's just an itch you're trying to scratch. and that while cove looks hurt now, he knows you'll go back to him like he never happened.

when cove grabs your hand he knows you won't wonder what another hand feels like, because you'll have forgotten baxter's touch. you won't remember his words when he flirts with you over the lip of coffee cup, just that your stomach stirred. you won't remember his expression when you kiss each other breathless, even though you sat in his lap and help his face in your hands like you were holding the moon.

you'll remember it happened, but you'll forget how hot it was, how intense those feelings were, because when cove wraps you up in his arms, you know this is all you'll need. your heart is full, his shy smile makes your heart sing. you're satisfied. happy.

baxter knows he's just an experience, and cove a certain fixture, a definite equation in your large life..

so if this summer fling quenches your curiosity, and this missing hole in his chest is filled for just a little while. it's fine. this is enough.

[psychhound]

for the tarot rpg ask game! The Fool, The Empress, The Hierophant, The Chariot, The Hanged Man, The Devil, The Tower, The Star, The Sun

The Fool – What do the earliest stages of work on a game look like for you? OR How did you get into game design?

i had a dream that me and @hmooncreates were playing not a tabloid because i had made it for him and when i woke up i still remembered everything about the game so i just actually made it :) and then was like bet that was fun and made like 8 more games in the next month

The Empress — Where do your ideas come from? OR Do you seek out or avoid inspiration while working on an idea?

i usually start with a mechanic that i think could be cool and then build a game around it. for mama werewolf i wanted it to be very nature-based, so your move tokens are found in nature and the scenes are determined by the weather. for lullaby nights i wanted a game that could be played entirely with a music app, no dice or cards needed. for dead man's hand i wanted something where a full hand of cards had an influence on the story, not just drawing them individually. and then i just go from there!! often i try to hit on mechanics i havent used in my other games, i dont like to repeat myself too much!!

The Hierophant — answered!

The Chariot — answered!

The Hanged Man — What other creative pursuits do you have? OR What current trends in game design are you most interested in?

i've written three books, have published some poetry zines on itch, worked as a graphic designer for a few years, have been drawing since i was very little, hand sew stuffed animals, and dabble in embroidery :) i like being creative

The Devil — What motifs or mechanics do you just keep coming back to? OR What is a game you’ve enjoyed playing in the last year?

@mintandrabbits has been GMing a game of apocalypse keys that ive been having so much fun with :)) im really enjoying the system so far and i do think i'll have to do a deep dive into the rulebook to really study how it works. def the kind of game i could see building into my thesis

The Tower — Talk about about a game you tried to make that crashed and burned.

i really tried strong arming my way through a game that i just kept losing steam on and finally put away but ... it was a duet game where you play domovoy and/or kikimora (slavic house spirits) and the family whos house you live in has left the baby at home alone. you have to keep the baby happy until the family comes back, or, if they dont, kidnap the baby to be raised with the spirits. i do enjoy the idea i just couldnt get my feet under me with it

The Star — answered!

The Sun — Talk about a game you’ve made that you’re proud of.

i'll answer this one again hehe. i'm really happy with the narrator paradox!! its a game where you are a storybook narrator and your protagonist is trying to defy you and escape the story. i think it turned out surprisingly cohesive for a one page game!! i've been very interested in one pagers recently, i think theyre fun :o)

[noisytenant]

neurotically weighing the options of having separate nsfw and sfw presences while bridging connection between the two. I get somewhat personal.

for a while ive been struggling to decide between having my sfw and nsfw projects be separate+unlinked+unacknowledged, mutually linked, one-way linked (nsfw -> sfw only), or on an "ask me" basis.

to begin with, separating them at all feels kind of like a stupid task. sexuality and transgression is present in all of my work and it's only gonna get more aggressive from here out.

but well. there are projects that sometimes get porno and projects that don't. and i think people are sufficiently uncomfortable around porno that i want to quarantine it, for their sake and mine. i don't really want a ton of eyes on my porno. i want like only the coolest most normal eyes on it

it's a very vulnerable thing for a reason. all the same, i have felt some of my most fulfilled when i can share these things with the world. but while i would like to say that the consequences of sharing porno are entirely immaterial, i don't think that's true.

in particular, i might want to be a teacher someday, and even though you shouldnt be barred from working with kids just because you have a sex life off the clock... it does happen. and im trans and faggy so like, i'm not itching for a third strike.

But lots of times on nsfw im not just talking horny, bc those projects are just as much about my politics, interests, and experiences as anything else is and its like grrrrrrrrrr barkbarkbarkbarkbarkbark. what if i want to talk about manufacturing with my porno friends!!!

this is the appeal of the one-way link option, because i can talk about whatever i want on whatever account, but publish anything palatable on the sfw side, and just link from nsfw.........

but this relies on an honor system. and i'm not sure at what scale that becomes a liability.

i feel like separate and unlinked with an unofficial "ask me" or like occasional delete-later plug might be the best option, but it feels like such a pain in practice due to the aforementioned mixing of interests.

I think ultimately the thing that's happening is that I have spent my entire life cultivating a publicly respectable career-oriented persona, and it is currently wasted on the unemployed me. I would love it if I could influence people in a positive way, but I don't know if it's in the cards with this climate.

I have the opportunity to give up completely on pretending to be respectable, but I'm hesitant to do that when it feels like it might grant me opportunities I desperately need.

I could just trust that the right people and places aren't going to pry about this stuff, but idk man, you see people getting cyberstalked for years enough times that it does a number on you. can i say i do drag with my coworkers? can i talk about writing a comic if it sometimes has sex? is this cartoon contaminated with my pervert germs? sigh.

I might have surveillance paranoia.

Anyways, if you have experience, suggestions. or reactions regarding this sort of thing, I'm open to them. Thanks

[yuukei-yikes]

Okay okay okay I have a very specific itch to hear about Mekakushi Dan sensory needs and bc you're the first person I can think of who has drawn them stimming I thought your askbox was the perfect place to launch myself. If you have thoughts here pls feed me. Bonus points for Takane's sensory needs + challenges before becoming a computer program and post str bc I do think her needs would be different than they were before?? I think not having a body for 2 years would do that to you

HI ok i dont have a lot of headcanons in general its mostly haruka and takane and mostly takane. i think haruka is the one ive drawn stimming the most Like i just think that guy would flap his little hands around yknow.

so im sorry i dont have hcs for the whole mekadan. IF UR INTERESTED IN A PARTICULAR MEKADAN GUY u can ask me and I'll come up with something >:3 it just feels overwhelming to think of it all at once. and also u said takane and you know damn well im abt to talk for 1 million hours

ok. takane❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ sorry this isn't sensory needs but girl.. takanes Gamer Secret being found out... idk man it's like. this bitch had been MASKING‼️‼️‼️

even in hs days i think takane feels weird about Touching with her hands. she doesn't have the cartoonishly large sleeves she has as ene, but i think she pulls down her sleeves over her hands like in this specific manga panel i indeed have in speed dial

i wish it appeared more often bc its a cute shoutout to ene later on and also WOOO THIS BITCH HAS SENSORY ISSUES!!! i made a comic abt it once but haruka designing actor with the bigass sleeves because he observed that takane pulls down her sleeves. *bite bite bite bite bite* also this panel has always been a fave of mine bc of autism creature takane and also bc the desk is like. at haruka's chest and he looks like he's sitting on the ground

i also think its very funny to imagine takane kicking ass in games while holding the controller with her sleeves over it and everyone's like ?????girl what. ofc she probably has specific textures she hates and all that, takane doesnt feel weird about touching as a whole.

in several instances of yuukei yesterday haruka and takane casually touch each other and while thats obviously cuz they're close friends, a lot of close friends dont act that way or arent comfortable with touch yknow!! in fact takanes the one to start most physical interactions with him. i could be crazy enough to go and check but im gonna trust my memory. and bc i love art where ene is jumping on shintaro and stuff i like to think takane is Actually touchy with ppl she trusts. also she doesnt register personal space sometimes, and ends up standing too close without noticing until someone points it out. i guess this is a bit contrary to a typical takane interpretation (UR STANDING TOO CLOSE DUMBASS🙄🙄🙄🙄 tsundere moment) but i think it's a fun spin to it. i think kenjirou is the one to most point it out like Girl step BACK ur all in my zone and she's like UGH WHATEVER and haruka also notices but never rly says anything. he probably loves it lol haruka's so overdue physical connection he loves that takane doesn't mind touching him or being close to him. also since they have a big height difference its not like she's all up on his face. i think takane starts letting go more once her ene secret's out and stops caring so much but it sorta comes back when ayano and shintaro join the group. i think shintaro especially would point out UGH WHY ARE YOU STANDING SO CLOSE TO ME or even question why she's so close to haruka or ayano. haruka and ayano are all like NOOO DONT WORRY I DONT MIND but takanes already mortified and is more self aware

another one. takane with her big old headphones. yeah yeah uses them disconnected to get haruka's attention Whatever she also uses them bc she prefers hearing stuff muffled instead of hearing it directly 👍 when she gets overwhelmed she puts those things on with the music to the max and just logs out for a min

OH also this is a canon one😼😼😼 her leg bouncy thing. shintaro points it out in the seventh novel that takane is bouncing her leg and says it's a nervous habit he never noticed on her but TO ME. SHE DOES THAT❤️ takane has huge leg bouncer energy i bet she makes the whole table shake and everyone asks her to quit it and she says Damn ok sorry and stops it for a total of 50 seconds before starting again

anyways in summary hs takane is like. tends not to notice personal space, hates touching stuff with her hands, likes having control over what or how she hears, and has a tough time staying still. POST STR... its all to the max. takane is overly aware of everything. all 5 senses are as much of a nightmare as they are a relief and it's all mixed together!!!!

ok her sensory needs that she already had pre ene are still there but completely amped up, except the personal space one. now everyone is always too close and literally just opening her eyes (HEH!! OPENING EYES!!!!) is super overwhelming bc WHOA EVERYTHING IS SO CLOSE AND HUGE AND HD. i could imagine comparing it to like, wearing contacts for the first time for any fellow glasses wearing people. like u know this, youve seen all this. but suddenly youre watching it differently without a frame around ur eyes and it just feels weird. for takane the frame was a screen instead of the glasses yknow. and to her its A LOT

i think post str takane keeps using her powers and having meltdowns because on top of all the existentialism she has to deal with being alive and everything, suddenly She Cannot Control Anything And It Is A Nightmare. she can't handle the lack of control she has over her needs and body temperature. just feeling hungry or sweating after walking for a little in summer makes her upset. bc she gets her body back during summer so GOOD LUCK WITH THAT GIRL. the clothes she wears feel all insane and irritated and nauseous!!! awful!!! even showers feel strange bc AUGGHHH so much is touching her at once!!! she also hates eating soooo yeah also a thing. i think she's always been a picky eater but post str its like she will only eat like 2 things or something

ON THE OTHER HAND.... it suddenly goes on the opposite end. like for a few days she's nightmare overstim city and then she's SUPER understim and COMPLETELYYYYY over eager about having a body and horribly indulges in like. overeating and running around <- overeating (especially when u usually avoid eating), awful for ur tummy. running a lot when u have chronic pains, also awful for ur pains later. sooo nothing she wont pay the price for later. it needs to get pointed out to her she needs to find a balance and cant have all or nothing (by haruka probably)

the personal space thing comes back here like she gets So touchy and needs hug or death. i think she can be all happy hugging haruka and all of a sudden pushes him away and is like WHOA I NEED TO GET OUT OF MY BODY RIGHT NOW MAYBE RIP MY SKIN OFF TOO MAYBE so it's rly like a light switch all of a sudden she can get overwhelmed with it and revert. like jumping back and forth between seeking and avoiding sensation.

i drew this once but haruka with his arms inside of takane's sleeves LOLLL i think skin to skin rly helps her when she's feeling like she needs sensation. a big part of the sudden overindulgence is OUGH IM REAL!!!! bc like i said takane isnt just dealing with having a body again she's dealing with having her Life again. being alive again. and she LOVES being alive. and the avoidance of all these sensations sometimes piles up and ends on the opposite like I NEED TO EAT💥💥💥I NEED TO SCREAM💥💥💥💥I NEED TO RUN AND HUG AND KISS AND DANCE AND SWIM💥💥💥 yknow. so yeah haruka helps her a lot with it when she needs touching and hugging 🙏🙏🙏 cuz he also wont get offended if she's suddenly like Ok get away from me before i explode🙏

also post str takane To Me also has mobility issues like haruka does bc all her muscles are atrophied from yknow Not moving for 2 years so it's like, even more that she has to deal with. physical therapy is incredibly invasive to her too so it's extra difficult. i think haruka and her do it together and that's why haruka is so on top of what's going on with her, he's the closest and sees her whenever she's the most vulnerable. also their situations are So similar they cant help just gravitating to each other for support. i also think haruka's the one to always point out to her when she's overindulging like Hey i love that ur rly enjoying that bigmac but i can already see you wanting to rip out ur organs later tonight so maybe dont eat a third one.

anyways ermmm takane's biggest challenge is Stop resorting to opening eyes whenever it gets too bad. like i also got sensory issues and assuming whoever is reading also does imagine having the option to just Jump out of ur body when its feeling Awful. ofc ur gonna take it when ur feeling like that. but it doesn't help takane to do it. while it helps her to calm down, it's not good in the long run. she actively wants a PHYSICAL life and work on all this. takane never wanted to die and is super motivated to get better but it's not quick or easy!!! eventually she finds a good balance i think. she's still a rly touchy person who hates grabbing her phone directly without the sleeves in the middle and will only eat like 3 things❤️ but also a hug lover❤️

[buglyknight]

1092) another cigarette, please

hang out with the rest of our friends

yeah,

the ferris wheel is still there.

we find ways to spend our time

eating too much

my stomach is wrathfully full

i tell Grant im tired of eating

we go to the Garden of the Gods

but You're not here.

You're not here.

we go to an artsy place

walk around for a few hours

we didn't finish the mystery game

everyone was hungry

except me

but why is that stranger wearing Your face?

neck starts its tics

brain itches

Grant is feeling similarly

ive got bad brain. he says

me too.

why was that stranger wearing Your face?

when we get back to the hotel

he wants to go outside

i know why.

can i join you?

sure.

so we

smoke cigarettes

that's what You told me to do, right?

that one time?

would You hate me for thinking of that?

i forgot your wording, but i remembered just now while typing

i told Grant about it

let's die a little faster.

we talk about You

and You

and You

and the ferris wheel

and how i was

sexually abused by my brother

ive never said that out loud before

its mostly glossed over

not for lack of caring

i havent posted that poem yet

and he talks about

his ex (pseudo ex?)

his You, in a way.

that lives up here

do you think it ever stops?

no. he replies

the look in his eyes

he knows.

yeah, i know.

-

cigarettes, a pause

more cigarettes

i suck them down like candy

throat burns

lungs burn

more cigarettes, please

will i finally get cancer

like i wished for at 18?

i flatten the earth as i smoke

is it to distract myself from You,

as we talk about You?

we're both shivering but we

keep standing in the snow

until it hurts

feet are numb

more cigarettes, please

im shivering madly

another cigarette, please

i still haven't seen Her face

i guess i could show you

(how do you forget that)

only if it won't make it hurt.

nah, i check everyday, just to see if it says 'Married'

yeah, She's pretty.

look at Her! She's everything. i'd kill for Her, i'd do anything

look at Her! look at Her! wow.

-

something about freezing makes you think less

your mind can't focus on anything else

his new boyfriend is a serious downgrade

he's got a new boyfriend? that's good, i hope he's happy

he's so fucked up for what he did to you.

i just hope he's happy.

(never find peace. never? why did you say that to me?)

we went on a double date, at the fair

ah, the F word

cmon man...

now we're here and there's the wheel right there, staring at me.

i can't get away from it.

-

you gonna bang Kat?

no. im not interested in women anymore.

i thought you werent interested in men, anymore?

i dont think im interested in anybody

you're both gonna be super drunk, did you take that into account?

yeah. i dont think itll change much.

-

it feels good to freeze and the only thing

you can warm your hands with, is a cigarette

it feels like being homeless, that feels right

i give it a try and yeah,

he's right.

i leave half of the conversation in my head

ive never been one for speaking my mind

half of the meanings, the clarifications, the answers, the questions

left behind

i tell him. (You'd hate me for it)

things ive never mentioned to anyone

he tells me

things he's never mentioned to anyone

that damn wheel is still there

i want to get a ferris wheel tattoo

you-. Yeah, i don't blame you.

and why were You on that strangers face?

why was that stranger wearing Your face?

why did i keep seeing Her around this place?

we go inside and i watched

Princess Mononoke

with Grant

originally i canceled my plans with him

to watch it with You.

but where were You?

where were You?

where were

You?

where were

You?

SHE'S NOT GOING TO CALL

SHE'S STILL NOT GOING TO CALL

SHE WANTS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE ROACH

KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT AND

STAY. OUT. OF. THE. WAY.

i want to bury my hands in the snow till they cant move

what does that feel like?

is that a sensation worth experiencing?

can i put cigarettes out on my own skin?

another cigarette, please

ash it down till it burns my mouth

i'm getting ready to scream.

i smell like ten cigarettes.

[your-20th-century-boy]

Under appreciated musician check!!

Y'all i just need a second to talk about Dan Fogelberg. I know very little about him and that seems to be the general picture the internet has on his stuff but like ive done a little digging in the first 7 years of his career.

Here's my personal highlights

I've briefly mentioned this one before when 4 hit 30 hours, but it's the sweetest song I know of.

So often in music people talk of romantic love and platonic love, but I've yet to come across a familial love song like this.

Its a song about his father, and its painted crystal clear. in talking about it he said something along the lines of when his father passed that song left nothing unsaid, and you can hear it for yourself! The words themselves are sweet and poetic, musically being accompanied by an acoustic guitar and the occasional brass instrument (I believe they're French horns)

Now to throw things back is an earlier track, while reading up on him the other night I discovered this album was produced by Joe Walsh which got me excited, Joe is the equivalent of god to my Grandmother and I've grown fond of projects of his, what a small world that these two collaborated!

Music wise its not as simple as Leader of the Band, it's got things like cowbell, bass, piano, and a brief feature of an electric guitar!! Overall a much more upbeat track

Its another story based song, not of one of love but more the meaning of life. Its a story of one understanding the world around them, and from what I understand that things are part of a grander plan.

There's no surprise in a meaning like that it does at times pull biblical imagery. But nothing too in your face go to church and kiss that bible heavy

Lastly, another one off souvenirs (as I really like this album)

This is the closest one in my books to the typical rock sound, though from what I've heard and read generally he can be categorized under "soft rock"

I appreciate this one for that more rock sound, though still heavily reliant on the acoustic guitar it pulls heavier on that electric guitar and piano from earlier.

Lyrically its nothing fancy, its a common trope of "if you've heard ive been sleeping around its a lie", but y'know not every song needs to be a grand novel with a plot, the backing music speaks enough for itself no fancy words are necessarily needed.

Now to wrap my thoughts. I know i have a lot to learn over time, but I love where I'm starting. I think hes a hella strong lyricist and id be lying if I said I never cried to leader of the band (every. single. time.) I also quite enjoy his voice, he can capture quite strong emotions in it if he wished, which is a huge aid to the stories he writes.

[slightlyunconventional]

idk just gonna. some k/az rambles i Think

this will be totally incoherent btw cause im too tired to form rational thoughts but. basically ive been thinking about him obviously being a chronic holdbacker (holderbacker?? holder back??? man) but also never ever wanting to show on his face that he needs to sneeze. so im just now imagining someone talking to him and then suddenly his nose is itching but by god he is not about to let a sneeze happen. and in this situation because he's being spoken to he doesn't want to seem like he isn't paying attention while holding back but he also doesn't want to sneeze and draw attention to himself,,, so now he has to hold back while also desperately trying to keep his features in a position that says "yes i Am listening to everything you are saying Right Now". but like this backfires 1) because he just ends up looking confused and Lost and 2) he's focusing so hard on holding back that he doesn't actually hear whats being said to him,,,, so eventually after either he successfully holds back or succumbs and ends up sneezing (maybe more than once. woah), he has to be like "sorry, what?" (he's definitely not embarrassed thank you very much definitely not)

also this post may or may not have been inspired by this photo of freddy from the con he's at rn (asocas 2) bcs i just think he looks. like the lights are out but no one's home. and i just thought it would be cute for kaz to be like that when he's trying not to sneeze alright bye

[reilliane]

YOUVE ONCE AGAIN CRUSHED MY HEART!!!!

uuuuu.. hi it’s the reincarnation anon, thank you so much for the fic. i’ve been consuming reincarnation and isekai media like its water for so long ive always had this itch behind my mushy brain ever since you first posted vigil.. kazuha has been so depressed in this au, man deserves to be happy (´；ω；`)

ALSO!! vigil!mc deserves to be doted and showered in love!!! especially by a cutie kid!kazoo!!!!! sis has sacrificed so much she deserves it!

now what about vigil!kazu getting isekaid into OG genshin…. either OG genshin doesn’t have a sis there or.. it does have a sis but she’s unrelated to him..(and maybe related to someone else (like itto, who also deserves a happier childhood!!!) and she also dotes on them, and the kicker here is that sibling actually returns the doting and showering with love!!!)

sis!mc: hugs and kisses to itto

Itto: returns big bear hugs to sis!mc

Kazuha in the back clenching his fists and looking like he’s almost gonna cry: the wind just got in my eyes… ( ･ᴗ･̥̥̥ )

either way kazoo’s gonna be depressed ™

(okay I said kazuha deserves happiness but there’s just a pull for him going ⬇️⬇️⬇️)

-you can just call me nii hehe..

Nii, dear. First of all, thank you, and you're welcome, as well! Angsts make me thrive ughh :weary:

BUT let's talk about this- this! You say that Kazu needs fluff! And he does, yes! SO WHY IS THIS ASK OF YOURS STILL ANGST AHSDKAHDKJADHKDADHSDSA /lh

Kazuha needs fluff! Not angst!

That's why there's actually more angst under the cut! -/SLAPPED

It's actually sad that this happens. Say they're simply in a different universe...

Kazuha just sees this lady. She has silvery hair and crimson eyes, similar to a specific oni he's seen around. But there's something off about it.

Why is it—that he feels the same presence of his sister in that lady?

He thinks he's deluded himself so much with sorrow but there's no mistaking that aura for someone else. He'll see her exchange with Itto and the despondence just eats him whole.

Because- maybe- maybe, that could've been him.

Perhaps if he wasn't so negligent, perhaps if he had paid his sister more attention... maybe, maybe, maybe.

There will be a time when he actually dared to approach them and MC looks at him, smiling.

"Oh, Kazuha! Hello there."

He stops breathing for a while.

She still calls him so, so nicely—but there's a difference.

"Yo, yo, my guy, what's up? Nice to see you around again!"

A notable difference; the ounce of familial love was not directed toward him, but to someone else.

Although he was given a warm welcome, a lovely greeting, he has to remember—that although this lady carried the same feel as his sister...

He is not her brother in this world.

[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song i.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader  genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, not really much to warn in this first chapter, there’s some flirting, oc doesn’t want to admit she finds seokjin dishy, she’s possibly in denial that there’s a spark there, jimin and soobin appear 🥰 words; 11,028 

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii  • ix • x • epilogue  (+ drabbles)

You hated being late. Not only did you pride yourself on your impeccable time management but sleeping through your alarm always threw you out of whack for the rest of the day. You blamed the annual student reports that had to be written. No matter how organised you were, every year they seemed to sneak up on you and disrupt your prompt 11pm bedtime. You’d been still awake past 1am last night, determined to give each student the report they deserved. The yearly parent-teacher meetings were tomorrow (Friday) and Monday evening; it was officially the end of the school year countdown, which was ironically the most difficult time of the year. 

No wonder your stress levels were so high lately. You felt like a ticking timebomb, wondering what on earth would set you off – because it was inevitable. This morning it could have been a number of things… Your inability to awake when your alarm went off, the fact your clothes were still slightly damp from insufficient drying time, your forgotten lunch still at home in the refrigerator, or now, your current predicament – you couldn’t find a space to park your car. 

You always got to work an hour early, that way you had enough time to get ready for the school day before the student’s turned up and the teacher’s parking lot was empty. You had your pick of spaces. Today however, with just fifteen minutes to spare before class began, you didn’t have much choice. The spot that required you to reverse in between two cars, or the one that was secluded but came with a price – the sun’s hotspot. 

You were stopped idly between the two, mentally making you decision while also damning this day to hell, when suddenly there was a thud and you jerked forwards, a gasp escaping your fallen mouth. Your hands had unconsciously clenched around the steering wheel so you ever so slowly eased up, straightening your back as you caught a look in the rear-view mirror. 

“Oh, my god.” You breathed quietly, reaction time delayed greatly. Shock probably. 

You watched as a black car – twice the size of yours and almost blindingly shiny – pulled away from the side of your vehicle, back into the space they’d just reversed out of. They’d hit you. You’d been hit. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. It wasn’t even 8am. 

There was a clunk of a car door and then a man in a suit came hurrying into view, as fast as he could manage, a look of pure horror on his face. Still on autopilot, you felt your hand reach for the handle of your door, pushing it open to find yourself getting out. 

“Are you okay?” The well-dressed man asked, panic evident in his voice. The very well-dressed man. His suit was a three-piece, black and white houndstooth. It looked expensive. Which just seemed to piss you off for some unexplainable reason. 

You were fine of course, dazed maybe, the blow hadn’t been that serious at all, but that was besides the point. This man, in his very obnoxious suit (even if it did hug his body in extremely cruel ways) had not been concentrating. He’d reversed straight into your poor little car that was no match for his hefty thing. Your shock was shifting. In its place grew anger. 

When you didn’t reply, than man carried on. “I am so sorry, Miss.” An annoying shrill sounded between you both. The cell phone in his hand. He ignored it – or at least tried to. “I really am. I was–” 

He stopped abruptly midsentence, letting out a huff. Whoever was calling him wasn’t relenting. He picked up, talking quickly, an air of authority to his voice that caught your attention. “Kim Seokjin, speaking. Please can I – I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to call you back. There’s been an emergency.” A pause as the person on the other end of the line spoke. They weren’t given much time. “Thank you for understanding. Goodbye.” 

The man – Kim Seokjin apparently – hung up, attention immediately back on you. “I’m just so sorry. Is there any damage?” He made his way over to the place he’d hit, just above your back wheel, crouching down, and grimaced. “Oh god.” 

You followed, coming face to face with the black scratches that now marred the white paint of your vehicle. It wasn’t so bad, he hadn’t sped out of the space, but something had definitely scraped the steel, and again, that was beside the point. He’d still reversed into your car. 

“The bike rack,” he muttered to himself. Your answer. He looked across at his car, brushing a hand through his hair. It stayed perfectly in place, pushed back above his forehead. He was a striking man, you’d give him that. Features made up of, what you could only describe as soft angles. Actually, thinking about it, he was pretty intimidatingly beautiful. That just made you angrier. How dare this stranger unnerve you with his good looks.  

“What happened?” You asked hotly. 

He looked up at you, taken back by your tone, but composed himself fairly quickly. “I-I was distracted for a moment, I didn’t realise–”

“Were you on your phone?”

“I’m sorry?” You looked down at the device still in his hand. On cue it started ringing again. He hit ignore straight away. “No, no. God, no.” He protested, shoving the phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He straightened up, head and shoulders above you. You crossed your arms and waited for his explanation, straining as tall as you could get. His cologne smelt amazing, you tried to ignore it. 

“I was – I was trying to get the handsfree to work in this damn car and last time I checked there was no one there.” He seemed flustered. A far cry from the authoritative figure he’d been on the phone call. “I wasn’t thinking, I just backed out –” He stopped, as if he suddenly realised something. “Why… Why were you on stop directly behind me?”

“Excuse me?” You instantly got defensive, hands waving about animatedly as you explained  “I wasn’t stopped, I was trying to find a space.” 

You hadn’t been aware there was someone occupying the vehicle. No one left the staff parking lot in the morning so there was never any worry about somebody reversing into you. This was all on him. He wasn’t going to try and turn it around on you. 

“I’m sorry, but do you even work here?” This school was small, he definitely wasn’t a teacher here, and you doubted he was a substitute. He was too well-dressed for a start. Who the hell was he?!

He looked momentarily confused. “Work here? No.” 

“Then why are you using the teacher’s parking lot?” Your arms were folded across your chest again. 

His eyes widened in horror, realisation setting in. “Oh no. I didn’t realise...” 

“It’s signposted.” His mistake seemed genuine, but that really wouldn’t cut it. Because of his mistake your car was now scratched. You’d have to contact your insurance company and god only knows if they would pay out seeing as the damage was really only cosmetic, and if they did, it would probably take an age. 

“It’s my first time dropping off my daughter at this school. I didn’t know where to go, and I was getting so many phone calls, I was just trying to…” He petered out, realising you probably didn’t care about his morning. So what? He was having a shitty one? So were you! 

“There’s no excuses for this.” He lowered his head in apology. “I’m truly sorry and I feel awful.” 

You found yourself softening. He did sound extremely genuine. You opened your mouth to reply, to accept his apology, but he spoke up again. “Let me sort this out. Money is no object. I can call my mechanic straight away and–”

“There’s no need,” you told him immediately, horror stricken. 

“It’s really no problem.” He insisted. “Come on, if we wait for our insurance companies to sort this out god knows how long it will take. No, I’ll phone the mechanic I use right now and they can come and pick your vehicle up. It’ll be fixed in no time. You won’t have to pay a thing.” 

“No, thank you.” Your anger was growing again. Irritation itching your face. Who did this man think he was? Money didn’t solve everything. Most people didn’t have that luxury. 

“No?” 

His bewilderment made you see red. “I don’t need your help or your money.” 

You could be very stubborn when you wanted to be. You’d been told so throughout your life; family, friends, exes… No, you’d just pay for the repairs yourself. You’d rather wake up late for an eternity than take his money. 

“But I did this.” 

He really wasn’t getting it. “It’s fine, just –” You were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone again. “You’re obviously very busy, just forget about it. It’s a few scratches.” You turned your back to him, glancing at your watch. You had just under two minutes to decide on a parking space and get to your classroom. 

“Wait,” he called out.

“Goodbye,” you called back, rounding the front of your car to dive back into the driver’s seat. 

“But – Argh!” You heard him let out a yell, his phone still shrilling loudly. He sounded frustrated when he answered. “Soobin, what is it?! Yes, I already told him I’m – What? He said they were…” 

He became inaudible as you slammed your door shut, using his distraction to drive off – straight into the easiest parking spot available… You guessed your poor car would have to turn into a damn sauna for today. 

.

.

After the morning you had you were thrown all out of whack. All day you didn’t know whether you were coming or going, your students seeming more hyper than usual and by 3pm you were ecstatic to see them leave. Your head was throbbing by the time half 4 rolled around, the final touches to your student reports complete at least. Not long after you trudged in the direction of your boiling hot car, stomach still queasy from the canteen slop you’d been forced to eat today and stress levels now barely manageable. Only one more day until the weekend, yet now you’d be forced to deal with finding an affordable mechanic with your free time. 

You were still in disbelief over today’s events. That frustratingly handsome stranger with the concentration levels of a two year old and more money than sense. You scoffed to yourself, how dare he try to flaunt his wealth around like that. What had his name been again? He’d said on the phone… You couldn’t remember, your temper had been too distracting…

Whelp. You were having second thoughts… Maybe you’d been too harsh earlier… You hadn’t been overly rude at all, but you had been quite curt. He did seem genuinely sorry after all, and maybe you’d misjudged what you guessed was an act of kindness. After all, you had been on stop behind him, and while he should’ve double checked before backing out, it wasn’t all on him. You were both to blame. You felt guilty for not thanking him for his apology. For your preconceived opinions on him. You didn’t even know the man and there you were making judgements – 

You stopped dead in your tracks as you got closer to where your car was parked, thoughts immediately interrupted. “What the –?”  

Stopped in front of it was small towing vehicle, Park Esteem written along the side in bold orange font. A man rounded the corner of the truck, a clipboard in his hand as he looked around, presumably for the owner of the car he seemed so eager to tow. You. He was looking for you. 

You jumped to action, breaking into a run. “Excuse me, Excuse me!” The guy with the clipboard looked up at the sound of your strained voice calling out. It was shrill as you came to a halt right in front of him, demanding an explanation. “What are you doing? Why are you towing my car?!”

“You’re the owner of this vehicle, Miss?” 

“Yes!” You exclaimed in disbelief. “What’s the problem?” 

He looked down at his notes, visibly confused by your reaction it seemed. “Uh, Mr. Kim has requested I pick up your vehicle and take it to be fixed for the damage he caused?”

Mr. Kim?! Who the hell was – wait. Kim Seokjin. His name came back to you instantly. He’d gone behind your back after you explicitly said you didn’t want or need his help. How dare he. And there you’d been feeling guilty for the way you’d treated him not two minutes previous. 

“He said to be here at 4pm as you should be finishing work around then…” The mechanic carried on, voice softening, as if he was about to bear bad news. “I’ve been here for thirty minutes, Miss. I’m afraid I’ll have to bill him for that separately. Time is money after all.” 

You checked your watch on autopilot. It was coming up to twenty to five. Shaking out of it, you straightened your shoulders, back to fighting mode for the second time today. “You can’t just take my car without my permission.”  

The man grimaced slightly. “Well see, he’s already paid for the towage, and Mr. Kim is a very valuable and trustworthy customer.” 

“Trustworthy?” You scoffed. “He’s stealing my car! I’m sorry but no, I refuse this…” You paused to think. “This service.” This was so absurd. Not only had this Mr. Kim totally disregarded your wishes, the towing of your car was incredibly over the top. The damage was cosmetic, everything was in fine working order. It didn’t need to be helped to the workshop. The thought of something so dramatic was infuriating. 

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, Miss. Mr. Kim already paid for the towage upfront so I can’t actually do anything about it now…” 

You stared at the man, telling yourself to take deep breaths. It wasn’t his fault. He was just doing his job. “So I have to let you take my car?”

He gave you a gentle smile. “I’m afraid so…unless…” He hesitated. “Unless you pay for the reversal…” 

“And how much is this reversal?” Your arms were crossed for what felt like the hundredth time today. 

You nearly keeled over when you were told the price. Damn that arrogant handsome man. Damn him straight to hell. Kim Seokjin, you would never forget that name now. What a complete and utter d–

“I’m sorry for the confusion, Miss. I was under the impression you knew Mr. Kim.” The mechanic apologised. 

You found yourself softening. He had a gentle voice. A gentle face too. It was that conceited so-and-so you were mad at. You were glad you’d left the classroom late today, not many cars left in the parking lot which meant less chance of a co-worker seeing this embarrassment. 

“So, I’m going to need to take your details now.” He continued, holding his clipboard out, sounding hopeful that you’d calmed down. “Just so I can arrange drop off at your address tomorrow.” You nodded slowly, watching him stretch out a hand. “I’m Jimin, by the way. Park Jimin from Park Esteem Car Services.” 

You shook it, introducing yourself automatically. “I’m Y/N.” 

He gave you a dazzling smile. “Lovely name. How do you spell that?” 

Ten minutes later your poor car was hooked up to Jimin’s truck, ready to go, just as a sleek black car with tinted windows pulled up alongside you. Out rushed a tall young man. He looked a little frazzled as he straightened out his suit jacket but smiled your way. “Hello, are you the owner of this vehicle?” 

“Yes,” you replied rather woodenly. What fresh hell? 

He smiled wider, outstretching his hand. “Hi, lovely to meet you. I’m Mr. Kim’s personal assistant, Mr. Choi, but you can call me Soobin.” 

You completed your second handshake of the day – two too many and introduced yourself too.  Inside you had a million and one questions. It began with ‘Why was his personal assistant here?’ and ended with ‘When would this day finally be over?’ 

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” The young man – Soobin – apologised. “Things have been incredibly hectic at the office today. I’m so glad you’re still here.” 

Jimin appeared by the side of you then. “Hi, you work for Mr. Kim?” Soobin nodded, tilting his head in curiosity. “Well, there have been a few misunderstandings this afternoon. Mr. Kim said he knew the client but she really has no idea who he is. Other than he was the one who hit her car.” 

Soobin grew flustered, bumbling over his words. “Oh, well, um…” 

“It’s fine,” you shook you head, not wanting to put the poor boy in an awkward position. This Mr. Kim seemed to like passing the buck onto innocent people. 

Jimin nodded. “Maybe just let your boss know that next time he should probably inform the person whose car he’s having towed…” 

Soobin laughed then, making light of an awkward situation even if it was forced. “Sure, sure.” 

“Okay, well, nice meeting you,” Jimin turned to you. “I’ll have this done by tomorrow, shouldn’t take too long, there’s not much damage at all.” You had the sudden urge to apologise for wasting his time but you stayed quiet. “You said you’ll be home by 7pm?” You nodded. “Great. Someone will drop it off shortly after that.” He tapped the side of his truck and smiled. “Have a lovely rest of your day, Y/N.” 

“Thank you, and you.” You waved him off – waved your car off too as Jimin started to drive and it disappeared into the distance, then you turned your attention back to Soobin. What was he doing here? 

On cue, he began to explain. “So, Mr. Kim is giving you a temporary loan of one of his cars for the time being, as apology and, well, a gesture of good faith. He really is awfully sorry about this morning.” There was silence as you made sense of his words. “The tank is full, no need for any expense on your side.” 

You forced yourself to speak. “Wait, hang on, he’s loaning me his car?” 

“One of them, yes,” Soobin smiled. One of them. How many did this man have? “He really doesn’t use this one, so don’t feel like you’re an inconvenience, it’s really no bother at all.” He pulled the key fob out of his pocket and handed it to you with a kind but awkward smile. “Here.” 

“So… I’m just riding his car home?” You’d told Jimin you’d call your best friend to pick you up when he’d offered you a ride home. You could still very well do that, but refusing this young man just seemed plain mean. After all, he had driven here despite a busy schedule. You didn’t want to waste his time. Poor boy was just doing what he was told, this Mr. Kim’s dogsbody. 

“Yes,” Soobin nodded, looking a little confused now. As if he was wondering why you weren’t understanding what he was saying. “Oh, wait,” he suddenly remembered, pulling a piece of paper (cream wove) out of his breast pocket. “Here’s a contact number for him to arrange the pick-up of the vehicle tomorrow evening. It might be me, but it depends on my schedule.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, still a little dazed, looking down at the number. You folded the paper and dropped it into your purse, suddenly realising something. “Wait, how are you getting home?”

“Hm?” He wasn’t expecting that question. “Oh, subway probably.” 

You anger flared once again. “So this Mr. Kim instructs you to ride one of his cars to my place of work, loan it to me and then expects you to just walk to the subway station?” 

Soobin blinked slowly a couple of times, hearing the attitude in your voice. “Well, when you say it like that you make it seem…bad. Your tone...” He shrugged and then gave a small laugh that wrinkled his nose. “I’m happy to walk, you know, exercise, get that blood pumping…” He finished with a few nimble stretches just to emphasise, before looking comically aghast. “Sorry. Ignore my unprofessionalism.” 

You jerked your head towards the car. “Get in.” 

His mouth hung open in confusion. “What?”

“I’ll give you a ride home. Do you live far?” 

“Not too far, Miss.” 

He waited for you to get into the driver’s seat and then followed quickly, getting in beside you. He couldn’t have wanted to walk that much then... “Call me Y/N.” You told him with a kind smile. “I don’t like all this professionalism. Besides, I get called Miss all day, every day. It gets tiring after a while.” 

He nodded dutifully in reply, back straight. 

.

.

You were on pins driving all the way home, eager to drop Soobin home so you could let go of your composure. This car was way too nice for you. Why did this stranger trust you with it?! His car. He didn’t know you. You could be the worst driver in the world for all he knew. You weren’t, but you could be. 

After you’d pulled up in your driveway you stayed there for a few minutes, needing some silence, just to calm yourself down, because you knew soon enough you’d get bombarded with questions. Sooner than you thought actually, because there was your front door ripping open, your best friend and roomie, Soojung, rushing out. “What is going on?” She demanded as you pushed the car door open. “Taken up car theft in your spare time?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sighed, already trudging to the house. 

She followed behind closely. “Um, you’re talking about it alright. You can’t just park up in a car worth more than both our salaries a year and expect me to not bat an eyelid.” 

You scoffed at her dramatics, hanging your purse over the coat rack. “It’s not worth that much.” 

“Y/N, I mean this with the least possible offence, but you know absolutely jack shit about cars.” You had no time for a comeback. “Now tell me where the hell did you get that car?!”

After the third degree from Soojung for over an hour, you managed to shut her up with an in depth description of your car thief (as you were now calling him), which included in no particular order: what he looked like, his estimated age, his outfit and how rich you thought he was. You insisted you were in no way bothered by any of these factors and you were only humouring her for some much needed peace and quiet. She spent the next ten minutes begging you to call him and put him on loudspeaker so she could hear his voice, but you outright refused. You were not calling him tonight, you couldn’t trust yourself not to raise your voice. It could wait for tomorrow, when your first round of parent-teacher meetings were over and you had your own car back in your driveway. Mr. Kim could wait for his, it was the least he could do after all the trouble he’d caused today. You bet he had another six cars anyway – one for each day of the week. 

Soojung made you both a late dinner and not long after that you crawled your way to bed, exhausted and not at all mentally ready for tomorrow. You did wake up ten minutes before your alarm though, which you chose to take as a good sign, remembered your lunch too, and you hated to admit it, but your loaned vehicle drove like a dream once you weren’t so scared of accidentally careening it off a cliff, or something equally as impossible. 

You day actually went by without a hitch. All the children were well-behaved, much more subdued than yesterday, but maybe that was because your stress levels had rapidly decreased with the positive signs from this morning. They had raised a little when Mrs. Jeon from third grade had enquired about the new car she’d seen you driving into school, but after giving her a very much condensed version of yesterday’s events you both had a little laugh together, where she then proceeded to joke around and tell you that you shouldn’t give the car back… or at least you thought she was joking… However, other than that, the school day breezed by. 

Better yet, all the parents scheduled for meetings today were on time, and despite the rush end of year reports brought, you genuinely did love the opportunity to talk with your students’ parents one on one. You’d been teaching the first grade at the same school for over seven years now and despite the ups and downs being a teacher brought, it really was the most rewarding and fulfilling job. Especially at a school like this. This place was like a home to you, all you had ever known, and your students meant the world to you. Each and every one. Class sizes were always small at Primrose Hill, and that always made your connection with the kids even greater. 

There was always a sadness in your heart when May rolled around, the school year nearly over and you had to get ready to bid goodbye to the children who’d been a part of your life for over nine months. Of course, come September you would greet a new class of students once again, but it was always so bittersweet… 

It was just gone half past six now and you were waiting on the last parent of the evening. 5/6 parents on time was still a success. Hopefully Monday you would see full marks. You were waiting on the father of your newest student, Kim Arin. She’d only been with you two months, and it was very unusual that a child joined you so late into the year. You didn’t know all the details, but it seemed that her parents were divorced and she’d recently moved to live with her dad. You liked Arin, she was a sweet little girl, quite timid at times, especially in the beginning, but that was to be expected of course. It was always nerve-wracking to start a new school. She’d gradually come out of her shell, made friends and she was incredibly gifted in storytelling for such a young age. In a few years, if she kept it up, who knew what she’d be creating. You couldn’t wait to tell her father that. You’d grown very fond of her very quickly and you would definitely miss her come September. 

“Come in,” you called, a knock on your classroom door breaking you from your thoughts. Your back was to the entryway, preoccupied with collecting Arin’s report and classwork on your desk, so you didn’t see who entered, although presumably it was her father. 

“Oh, hello again.” 

You froze at the sound of the voice. That voice. Why was it so familiar? Why did it get your hackles up? As if you needed to prepare for a fight– Oh.

You turned abruptly, eyes wide as you came face to face with the car thief. What on earth was he doing here? Had he come to collect his car?! Maybe you should’ve rung him last night, but it seemed a little unbelievable that he was chasing this up so keenly. You weren’t the thief in question. He was. How insane was it to track you down like this. Who had given him your name? Who had told him what class you would be in? Surely it was forbidden? 

“If this is about the car business, we’ll have to sort it out later on, I’m expecting a parent of a student any minute now.” Straightening your back you held eye contact. He was very amused, eyes twinkling as he smiled at you, cheeks rounded. It made you feel slightly unnerved, but by damn had you forgotten how infuriatingly handsome that face of his was. Jerk. 

He held up his hand slightly and laughed. “I’m the parent in question.” 

“What?” 

You stood there limply like an idiot, blinking slowly as you tried to mentally put the pieces together. Kim Arin. Mr. Kim. Kim Seokjin, the arrogant, money can solve everything so-and-so was Arin’s father? Great. Absolutely gr–

“You’re Miss. Y/L/N?” 

“You’re Arin’s father?” It was obvious by now, but maybe there was that 0.001% chance he’d gotten the wrong classroom. Maybe. 

“Such a small world,” he grinned, all hope lost. He held out his hand for you to shake. “It’s nice to officially meet you.” 

There was a teasing to his tone, it got you pissed again, but you had to take it. You were in a professional setting now, you were his daughter’s teacher. His hand was warm, soft, grip gentle. Maybe you squeezed too hard, maybe he didn’t notice. “Please take a seat, I won’t be a minute.” 

Your tone was clipped, unable to sound at all breezy like you had with the other parents, and you turned back to your desk, rifling through more papers even though you had everything you needed. In all honesty, you just needed some thinking time. Get through this twenty minute meeting, you told yourself. Pretend like he wasn’t the man who hit your car and then got it towed a few hours later. You could do it. 

You felt him take the seat behind you, amusement still strong as he asked you a question. “So, are we just going to pretend yesterday didn’t happen?”

You collected Arin’s work and rounded your desk, taking a seat directly in front of him, careful to keep your expression neutral. “Right now’s not the time to discuss personal matters. Let’s just wait until this is over.” Twenty minutes and then he’d have it. He wouldn’t be smirking then. 

Although surprisingly, immediately after you said that he grew serious, nodding his head in agreement. “Of course. My apologies. Sorry I was late, by the way, I couldn’t escape the office.”

Taken back by his sudden change in demeanour you shook your head. “It’s fine.” You weren’t expecting it to be so easy, but he listened. 

“So,” he prompted when you didn’t follow up with anything. “Should we get started?”

You jolted, unaware you’d been lost in thought and silently cursed yourself. He was going to think an idiot was in charge of teaching his daughter. Not that it mattered what he thought, but still, you needed to snap out of it. He was here to talk about Arin and as her teacher you had plenty to say. 

Seokjin was highly focused throughout the whole meeting, taking on bored everything you had to say with earnest. He wanted to know how his daughter was getting on at her new school and was interested in all the work she had completed in the short amount of time she’d been here. He didn’t have to, but he gave you a small explanation about why she’d had to switch schools so late into the year, and even though you already knew it was because she’d moved to live with him, you stayed silent, letting him carry on. He sounded so genuine, so worried about what the move could’ve done to Arin’s education and mental health that it ended up touching you. It was visibly obvious how much he loved and cared for his daughter and that was refreshing to see. A lot of the time it was the mothers who attended these parent-teaching meetings, you rarely had the chance to speak to the dads, so you did relish in this opportunity, discussing Arin’s talent in creative writing in depth, showing Seokjin the collection of short stories she’d written, and giving him tips when he asked on ways she could improve. 

That would come with age, you said, but there was one small thing she may want to stop now rather than later. Her most recent story, a beautiful and creative fantasy piece that she unfortunately ended with the ‘it was all a dream’ trope. 

“What’s wrong with that?” Seokjin asked. You instantly sensed that his defensive was up. It made you smile as you gave a slight shrug. 

“Nothing per se, it can just be a little cliché. There’s much better ways to end a story.”

“Sure, but she’s only 6. It can’t be that serious?” 

Your smile grew. “I understand that, Mr. Kim. Like I said, Arin is truly gifted for her age, it was just a pointer that you asked for.” You wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise, but he seemed thoroughly into this discussion now. 

He tilted his head in thought. “What if it was the legitimate ending of a story? There’s obviously famous novels with such conclusions.”

Amused, you mimicked him. “For instance?”

“Hm?”

That caught him off guard. “What novels? Name me some.” 

His eyes grew comically wide at your request, and just as you suspected, he couldn’t answer. He chuckled, looking a little embarrassed. Was that a little colour on his cheeks? “You’ve put me on the spot.” 

You were both so engrossed discussing Arin that the time seemed to fly by. It was near to 7pm by the time you wrapped things up, and you’d enjoyed yourself so much you almost forgot you’d made a deal with yourself to start chewing Seokjin out the moment it was all over. He ever so kindly reminded you. 

“You know, I was expecting a very angry phone call last night. I was quite surprised when it never came.”

Both of you were now stood up, your desk still between you. Seokjin held copies of Arin’s stories that you’d given him to read over in his free time and you with nothing to fiddle with, folded your arms across your chest. Ah, here we go again. The playful lilt to his voice back from earlier, that infuriating smirk too. 

He was dressed in a much less flashy suit today. A simple slate grey two piece, his dark hair styled against his forehead, the smallest peek of forehead visible. It made him appear younger – not that he looked old anyway. Your guessing was mid 30s maybe, but this hairstyle made him appear softer. The faintest of lines around his eyes provided the slightest of giveaways, but then again, you only noticed them because you were searching for any clue to his age. His hair was still thick and dark and it definitely didn’t look like he dyed it. His body was… hm, he was built well. He certainly seemed to look after it. Not that you were looking, of course. 

You could definitely see the resemblance between him and Arin. Their eyes were the same almond shape, both deep brown in colour, and while their noses were slightly different, Arin’s cheeks obviously rounder, their plump lips were uncanny. 

Despite very much in thought, you kept your expression unreadable, nose in the air as you replied. “Perhaps I was too mad for words.”

He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. If they were natural, life was incredibly unfair. “And now?”

“It would be unprofessional of me to start yelling at my place of work.” 

“You want to yell at me?” His eyes twinkled with silent laughter. It was obvious he was holding it in. 

You were glad he found this funny because you didn’t. No matter how much he’d impressed you as a father it still didn’t change yesterday. “You had no right just stealing my car like that.” 

He scoffed. “It was hardly stealing. Who steals a car to pay for the damage he caused?”

“I didn’t want you to pay!” 

He still looked baffled by your stubbornness. “That’s just absurd.”  

“You’re calling me absurd?”

He sighed. “Of course not.” He was getting flustered now, similar to yesterday. It was funny to watch. “I just…” He trailed off, catching the grin on your face. “You’re enjoying this.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, I love a complete stranger backing out into my car to then subsequently steal it from right under my nose.” 

He eyed you hesitantly. You knew he couldn’t tell if you were joking around or not. Your words and posture said no, but your eyes and lips gave it away eventually. “We’re still on this stealing business?” He paused, lips quirking. “Besides, I’m not a stranger. I’m your favourite student’s father.” 

You laughed in disbelief. This man was so full of himself. “I’m a teacher, I don’t do favouritism.”

“Oh?” He seemed sceptical. 

You shook your head, he really was unbelievable, but you couldn’t stop the smile that creeped its way to your mouth. “If that’s all, Mr. Kim.” You pointed to the door. It was getting late now, your car should be getting dropped off soon too. 

He chuckled as he started to make his exit, you following closely behind. When he stopped abruptly, turning back, you weren’t expecting him to be so close. You could notice the beginnings of stubble growing above his top lip, a sure sign you were in too close a proximity.

“She likes you a lot.” He murmured, serious once again. You wished he’d stop doing that. Was he an obnoxious rich jerk, or a caring, hardworking father? You would have gone with the former right before this meeting, now you had no clue. Maybe you’d gotten him all wrong. That would teach you for judging a book by its cover… 

“Arin,” he added, as if it wasn’t obvious. “She’s always speaking about you when I ask how her day went. You’re her favourite ever teacher.” He grinned then, laughing, amused by himself. 

You groaned. “Stop trying to guilt me.” He laughed harder, throwing his head back. Was all that true? Arin talked about you? You were her favourite teacher? Or was he just making it up for reaction? You didn’t ask. 

“Although, I will say it’s nice to put a face to the name now.” Maybe you didn’t need to ask. “Just wasn’t expecting it to be the woman whose car I drove into yesterday morning…”

No, neither were you. 

“I really am sorry about that.” 

He sounded nothing but sincere, you couldn’t not accept his apology, despite being still annoyed by what he had done afterwards. “You keep saying.” You gave an accepting sweep of your hand. “Let’s just forget about it, accidents happen, right?” 

“Right.” He gave a quick nod of his head, followed by a shrug. “…aand I guess you were parked behind me so…” 

You opened your mouth to refute such a claim but his laughter was so loud, so unlike his outer appearance, if that made any sense, (all high-pitched and squeaky almost), you were dazed for a moment, couldn’t help but join him – quietly so, but it was something. This man obviously thought he was hilarious. 

He opened the door, hand resting on the handle as he spoke again. At this rate the janitor would appear for his shift and you’d still be here talking to Seokjin. “Listen, I can’t find anyone to pick up my car tonight so how about tomorrow? Is that okay for you? You can give me a call in the morning and we’ll arrange a time suitable.” 

Oh yes, you’d forgotten all about that. Too distracted. By what? Him? “It’s fine. I can drop it off myself tomorrow.” 

He raised that perfect eyebrow again. “You can?”

You gave him an affirmative hum. Why was that so surprising to him? 

“How will you get home?”

Shoot. “Subway,” you thought quickly. 

“Are you sure?” He looked even more surprised, was about to suggest something else it seemed, until you spoke again. 

“Saves that kid wasting his weekend.” 

“Kid?” 

“Soobin.” No doubt he’d be the one to pick the vehicle up, being Seokjin’s personal assistant after all. You needed one of those. They could mark the children’s homework and plan your lessons…

“Oh. He really wouldn’t mind,” Seokjin reassured. 

“Really?” It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. Both of them actually, but they weren’t as devastatingly shaped as his. That reminded you, you needed to get them threaded again soon. “Poor boy was about to trek to the station yesterday before I offered him a ride.”

“You took him home? He didn’t tell me that.” Seokjin sounded surprised. 

“I wasn’t going to let him walk after he went to all that trouble for me.” 

He nodded in understanding. “You’re very kind.” 

You felt a little panicky, unable to read his reaction very well. “He won’t get into trouble?” You couldn’t see why he would, but you never know. 

“No,” Seokjin laughed. “Is that what you think of me?”

You shook your head. “Of course not, I was just…” You stopped, unsure what to say.

“I wonder what you do think of me,” he pondered, voice low, lips curled. 

“I don’t think it really matters what I think of you.” You replied cryptically. 

He liked that, chuckling softly. “Can’t a guy be curious?” You remained tight lipped. “My employees love working for me, for your information.” He added. Maybe as damage control, who knew. 

You rolled your eyes for the second time this evening. “You’re very full of yourself, Mr. Kim.” 

“Please, call me Seokjin,” he requested. 

You nodded, but you still didn’t think you were at that type of pleasantry yet. You could think of him as Seokjin but to say it aloud felt wrong almost, you didn’t know him. Thinking about it, it wouldn’t really matter come tomorrow anyway.

You watched him pull out a small notebook and an expensive looking pen from his inner jacket pocket, holding the copies of Arin’s stories under his arm as he used the door for support to write his address down for you. Ripping out the page perfectly, he passed it to you with a smile. “Drop the car off around 3pm. I should be long done at the office by then.” 

He was working on the weekend? He certainly was a busy man. Who looked after Arin while he wasn’t there? These curiosities you had couldn’t very well be asked, not unless you wanted to appear nosey and overstep the mark… 

“Okay,” you replied. “Then we arrange repayment.”

“Repayment?” He looked bewildered. “You’re not paying me back.” 

“I am.” 

“You’re not.” His tone was stern. You could be sterner, you were sure of it. 

“I am.” You insisted, staring him down. “The mechanic informed me yesterday that you’d be charged separately because he had to wait an extra half hour.” 

“Oh, that.” He shook a hand. “I knew that might happen because I was uncertain when you finished work. It’s really no bother.” 

No bother? Was this man adamant to hear you raise your voice? “I’m paying you back.” 

He feigned confusion, teasing you. “I don’t think you are.” 

“I – Look, we’ll sort this out tomorrow.” You’d be here arguing until Monday otherwise. 

He scoffed. “There’s nothing to sort out.” 

You shot him glare. It was a warning. Tomorrow you’d let him have a piece of your mind if he continued to refuse. You didn’t think he took it seriously. 

.

.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t just sit here and I say he wasn’t flirting with you.” 

“He wasn’t.” You were adamant. Soojung had made you relay your whole conversation with Seokjin as soon as you’d let slip this evening’s revelation. You were regretting it now. You were trapped on this couch forced to listen to her insane claims. There was no way in hell that man had been flirting with you. 

“You were definitely flirting back.” 

You felt yourself flush, voice raising as you insisted that she was wrong. “As if.” She shot you a look that told you she didn’t believe a word. “He’s rich and arrogant.” 

She laughed. “You say rich as if it’s a bad thing.” 

It wasn’t a bad thing, it just wasn’t your thing, but if rich made him smug and think he could throw his money around when you’d explicitly stated you didn’t want him too, then yes, it was a bad thing. 

“I wonder how loaded he really is…” Soojung thought aloud. “Millionaire status? He didn’t say where he worked?” 

“Didn’t come up,” you replied shortly. You were done talking about him now. In your eyes it was nearly over. Your car was back in its rightful place on your driveway and Seokjin’s would soon follow in its rightful place – surrounded by a handful of others. You would never have to see that frustrating man ever again – hopefully. 

“Find out tomorrow.” 

“I am not finding out tomorrow,” you exclaimed. It wasn’t important. He worked in an office, nothing out of this world amazing. “I’m just going to drop off his car, write out a cheque and be on my merry little way.” 

Soojung snorted. “Bitch, you’re going to be repaying him back a dollar a week.” You glared at her but she wasn’t fazed. “There’s no way you can afford it. He probably uses the most expensive mechanic in the city.” 

“Shut up.” You didn’t care if you had to use your savings account. He was getting his money back one way or the other. You refused to be indebted to him. You were a little nervous though… “It can’t be that much. He only had to repaint some scratches,” you worried.

Your best friend ignored you, nestling in closer, an overjoyed grin on her face. “Tell me again, is he dishy?”

You sighed – loudly. Why couldn’t she let the topic drop? “I’ve already described him to you, and besides, that’s not the point.” 

She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. “So that’s a yes then. You’re into the Dilf!” 

You didn’t bother replying, instead choosing to throw a cushion at her. She was unbelievable. But why did her teasing annoy you so much right now? 

Saturday and Sunday’s always allowed you to sleep in, although 8am probably wasn’t what most called late. You liked to make the most of your weekends and today was no different. After breakfast you showered and got ready, putting aside an hour to go over the student reports for Monday instead of wasting your Sunday night instead. You and Soojung had made plans to go out for coffee late morning as it was rare to see her free on a Saturday. She worked hectic and last minute hours as a department store manager, but she’d finally bargained her first full weekend off in months. 

Somehow your coffee turned into a little bit of a shopping spree, your credit card violently cursing you, but after the past few days you’d had you couldn’t find it in you to give a damn. You ate a late lunch at a one of your favourite cafés and then sadly, it was time to rush home and drop off Seokjin’s car back to him. You were very much dreading it – happy it would soon be over, don’t get you wrong, it was just the thought was making you all fidgety and nervous. Soojung wasn’t making it any better, she wouldn’t shut up about it, trying her best to get you give his address up. As if. You knew better than that. She’d be straight on her phone, google maps up in an instant. 

You said a begrudging goodbye to her half 2, promising you’d call her straight away with all the details once you were done. She was spending the night at her boyfriend Taehyung’s house tonight but that still wouldn’t stop her innate need for gossip. Your phone acted as GPS on the way to Seokjin’s house, having no idea how to use the fancy one in his car. Not that any of it helped. His house seemed impossible to find. It did not take the predicted twenty minutes your phone told you. No, it was near forty by the time you finally found the concealed long road you’d driven past three times that led to it. 

You came to a stop outside a pair of intimidatingly large gates and nearly choked when you saw his house. Well, you couldn’t really call it that. It was a mansion. Eight times the size of the house you and Soojung rented together, maybe more. He really was loaded. You just hadn’t realised how loaded until now. You felt a little sick as you spotted the intercom system on the wall, wondering if you could just ditch the car here and run as fast as your legs could carry you. Why had you not just let Seokjin arrange someone to pick it up from your house? Why were you always so stubborn?! 

Taking a deep breath you got out of the vehicle and walked over to the intercom, feeling partial relief to find it didn’t have a camera attached. You would absolutely die of shame otherwise, hopelessly unphotogenic and camera shy. Your teacher’s ID card would forever haunt you. 

It rang for a few moments before a woman picked up. “Hello, may I ask who it is?”

You weren’t expecting the female voice so you were stumped for a moment, stumbling over your words before you managed to settle on something helpful. “Hi, yes, this is Arin’s teacher, Miss. Y/L/N. I’m here to return the car Mr. Kim loaned me…” 

“Hello, love” the woman greeted sweetly. “Drive up to the front of the house. I won’t be a moment.”

“Okay.” You were thankful she hung up first because you let out a shriek when the gates started automatically opening. You dreaded to think if there were security cameras near. 

With a delay you got back into the car and started it up again, thoughts a little preoccupied now that it wasn’t Seokjin who’d picked up. You’d taken it he lived alone, not that he’d told you that. Maybe he had a new girlfriend, you were unsure how long he’d been divorced for. Although you didn’t recall Arin mentioning a woman’s name when she talked about her father. Not that you’d like to admit it, but you’d spent a generous portion of time last night while you waited for sleep trying to recall times when Arin had mentioned Seokjin. You didn’t know why, curiosity you guessed. 

But anyway, if Seokjin in fact did have a new partner, then you also guessed Soojung’s theory was incorrect. He had not been flirting with you. Which wasn’t a surprise. It had been a long time since a guy had flirted with you… You were probably to blame there, but it didn’t particularly bother you. Your life was busy enough as it was, throw in a man and you’d hit your breaking point. 

The woman who’d answered the call was waiting for you outside as you pulled up, older than her voice had made her seem. You stopped the car and got out, greeting her. 

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Arin’s Nanny, Misook.” 

Oh. That made sense. You guessed your imagination had run wild with you for a few unexplainable moments. You felt almost embarrassed as you stood there awkwardly. Was she going to take the keys? Could you leave? 

“Please come in.” She smiled kindly. “Seokjin won’t be long, he’s just showering, work ran late.”

Come in?! Oh no, no, no. That wasn’t part of the plan. It was drop the keys and run. However, like a fool, you were unable to say no, looking behind you at Seokjin’s vehicle. “Is the car okay here?”

“Of course,” she nodded. “He’ll place it in the garage later. Follow me.” She turned her back and started making her way inside. 

You followed with heavy feet, not quite ready for this. Your first three encounters/dealings with Seokjin had been interesting to say the least. How would the fourth go? You felt a little rude entering your way inside his house (mansion) but Misook wouldn’t have invited you inside if it wasn’t okay, right? Maybe Seokjin wanted you here… 

“Make yourself comfortable while you wait.” Misook said once you’d taken off your pumps and she’d led you to the room nearest the entryway. The living room? The lounge? The family room? You didn’t know what else to call it, descriptions too basic for this grand home. 

Not that the décor and furniture were too elaborate. In fact, everything looked so homely and cosy inside. The couch was definitely leather but the throw draped over it and the cushions out of place made it look lived in. The colour scheme was minimalistic, walls cream, accents mostly teal blue and grey. Seokjin had style, or perhaps he’d hired an interior designer. You suddenly wondered what the rest of his home looked like. 

“Do you want anything to drink? Anything to eat? I’m just making Arin a snack.” Misook offered, but you immediately shook your head, not wanting to put her out. 

“Oh, no thank you. I ate before I left.” 

She nodded and left the room, leaving you to your own devices in a stranger’s house. The stranger who had hit your car and then proceeded to steal it from right under your nose. The stranger who had let you borrow his car and the stranger who was Arin’s dad. The world worked in mysterious ways. Or it was just mere coincidence, whatever. 

You perched yourself on the end of the teal love seat nearest the large bay window, fluffing up the cushion behind you to at least look a little comfortable. You looked around the room casually, spotting a hardback book on the coffee table – The Rough Guide to the 100 Best Places on Earth. Did Seokjin like to travel? With a seemingly busy lifestyle and a child it seemed pretty impossible. Maybe he just liked to dream? Maybe he’d travelled in his younger days? Wait, why were you thinking about these things? You looked over to the impressive brick fireplace, the obvious focal point of the room; it was stunning. A chunk of waxed driftwood sat above it, acting as a shelf and in the middle of it was a photo of Arin and Seokjin in a silver frame. Both their faces filled the image, grinning widely and they really did look so alike. You found yourself smiling, jumping a little when you heard your name. 

“Miss. Y/L/N!”

You followed the tiny excited voice, finding Arin in the doorway smiling shyly at you. She gave you a little wave. 

“Hi, Arin,” you greeted. 

That was all she needed to skip inside, sitting on the end of the couch closest to you. “Daddy told me you were coming today.” Well, at least she wasn’t surprised to find you in her living room. “He told me what he did. Silly daddy.” 

You let out a polite laugh. “It’s okay, accidents happen, huh?” You couldn’t very well say your daddy was an idiot, could you? “How are you today, Arin?” You asked, changing the subject, finding yourself in teacher mode instantly. “Do you have any plans?” 

“I’m okay,” she let out a comical sigh. “Daddy is taking me bowling.”

“That sounds like fun. Why are you sighing?” 

“I was supposed to see my mom but she was too busy…” She answered rather dejectedly. 

“Oh, that’s too bad.” You tried to think of something to say to reassure that little sad face of hers. “I’m sure she’s just as disappointed.” 

Arin gave a little shrug. “She’s always busy.” 

In the two months you’d been her teacher you’d never seen her mood like this. Yes, for her first week in class she’d been quiet, but that was because of nerves, today she looked deflated. You found yourself struggling for something to say, which was unlike you, especially with all your training. It was your job to reassure children after all. 

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.” 

Your head jerked up at the sound of Seokjin’s voice. There he was in the doorway, smiling your way. There was something different about him. What was it? Oh – his clothing. You noticed eventually. He was dressed incredibly casual today – normal. A beige coloured sweater and dark blue jeans. His hair wasn’t styled, flat to his forehead and still partly wet, his skin flushed from the heat of the shower.  You still couldn’t place his age. You were sure he was older than you, but by how much was difficult to say. 

“Mr. Kim, hi,” you greeted, standing up for some reason. You still couldn’t bring yourself to call him Seokjin unless it was in your own head. 

He walked towards you, in slippers. You didn’t know why but the thought was so bizarre. You were being ridiculous. Of course he wore slippers, why wouldn’t he? 

“Daddyyy,” Arin sung, running towards him and hugging his legs. She looked up at him, asking sweetly, “Are we ready to go?”

He chuckled, rubbing her hair. “Soon, sweetie. Go and find Misook in the kitchen so you can have your snack before we leave.” 

She looked at him coyly. “Can we have pizza later?”

He laughed again and gave a small shrug. “Sure. As a weekend treat.” 

You watched on, not realising there was a smile on you face. They were cute together. You noticed Arin peeking at you, then she looked up at her father again. “Is Miss Y/L/N coming too?”

Seokjin had the brazenness to look across at you, raising his eyebrows expectantly, as if it was your call. Was he insane? Not only was it implausible, it was downright unprofessional. You were Arin’s teacher. Yes, for just a few more weeks, but this interaction was already out of your comfort zone. 

“Uh,” you started, feeling awkward. “No, sorry, Arin. I, um, I have plans today.” 

You didn’t want to let her down, but luckily she didn’t seem to mind, giving you a roll of her shoulders and a cute smile. “Okay. See on you on Monday, Miss.” And off she skipped, out the door and to where you presumed was the direction of the kitchen. 

“Sorry about that,” Seokjin chuckled, stepping closer, as if he hadn’t pretty much invited you himself. What if you’d said yes? He’d have been okay with that? 

You felt yourself begin to heat up at the close proximity. You had no idea why he made you feel like this, especially now. You’d handled it so well yesterday, but then again, maybe that was because there’d been a desk separating you. In a professional setting. Right now you were out of your comfort zone, out of your depth. In his home, in his living room, a mere few inches between you both. Why did you find it so intimidating? Why did you find him so intimidating?!

That face… That face with that infuriating smile, and those eyes that seemed to twinkle with amusement, as if there was a joke you weren’t aware of. Multiple jokes. What did he find so funny? Was it you? You felt instantly defensive. He probably used those good looks to unease people, to make them do as he wanted. Not you. 

You took a step back, your legs brushing the love seat behind you, and reached for your purse, pulling out your cheque book. “So,” you began, hating the way your voice faintly shook. “Let’s settle. How much do I owe you?” 

His smile instantly disappeared as he rolled his eyes slightly. You caught them and it made you want to fight. “You’re still on this.” 

“Yes, I am,” you bristled “They washed my car too.” 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he groaned. “It was part of the service.”

“Just tell me how much I owe you.” You were adamant. 

“No.” So was he. 

“Mr. Kim.” 

“Seokjin,” he corrected, a small smug smile on his face. 

“Tell me!” 

He brought a hand to his temple, tapping the skin with his fingers as he let out a grunt. “You know what, I can’t seem to remember. It’s been a busy week, memory’s a little fuzzy.” The grin on his face told he was messing with you. 

What an exasperating bastard. You didn’t swear often, but he’d just driven you to it. Any more and it was out loud. Maybe your face gave something away because he soon changed his tune, falling serious, like he could so magically do sometimes. “Look, it was my fault, so I paid.” 

You wanted to scream. “What if I had an accident in your car? Would I have to pay the damage?” 

Instantly he looked worried, those perfect eyebrows furrowing in alarm. “Have you? Are you okay?” 

It looked like he was about to reach out a hand to comfort you, and you panicked, rushing into explanation, taken back by his concern. “No, I’m fine. I-I was just being hypothetical.” He looked confused. “By your logic, I would have to pay, right?” 

“My logic,” he mused, chuckling softly. “I’m just doing the correct thing. But yes, I suppose you’d have to pay.” He gave a shrug, that annoying smile back on his face. “Good thing there were no accidents then.” 

He was probably right. You weren’t that angry to prove a point. You’d probably have to take a lifetime loan to pay the damage off. You felt defeated. What more could you do? Write out a cheque for a guesstimated amount? Imagine the humiliation if you totally undervalued it. No, maybe you should just let it go. Bite your tongue and take this “gift” from a stranger. He had backed out into your car after all, regardless if you were hovering there, he just hadn’t been paying attention. He felt a guilt, a need to repair the damage caused so you’d just let him, even if it went against everything you believed in – your morals. He could obviously afford it and never miss the money. 

So you let him win this one, let him walk you to the door before you were late for those important plans that may or may not involve being sat in front of the television all evening watching sitcom reruns on the comedy channel. (He didn’t know that of course.) 

“Alice in Wonderland,” he said suddenly, just as you were coming to a halt by the grand wooden door. You turned to see him grinning and looked at him questioningly. What on earth was he on about? “A famous novel that uses that ‘it was all a dream’ trope you hate.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “I think someone may have been on google last night.”  

He held up his hands. “Guilty as charged.” 

You let yourself laugh, genuinely amused. You weren’t so nervy now, as comfortable in his presence as you were going to get. “Goodbye, Mr. Kim.” 

He tutted. “If you call me that one more time I’ll be forced to take that cheque from you.”

Really? Interesting… “Mr –

“I take it back,” he interrupted quickly, realising his mistake. “But please, call me Seokjin. I get called too many formalities within the week, I hate it.” 

You had to agree with that, you knew that feeling all too well. “Fine,” you gave in. “Goodbye, Seokjin.” There, you’d bitten the bullet. Calling him by his name aloud made you feel funny. “Thank you for… everything.” 

He mulled over your gratitude, seemingly satisfied. “I’ll take that.” You ignored him and turned to leave. He stopped you, his hand touching your elbow and warmth spread throughout your body instantly. “Are you really taking the subway home?”

You nodded. 

He looked dubious. “The nearest station is quite a walk from here.”

“How far?” Now you were too. 

“Let me give you a ride there.” He offered. “I’m taking Arin downtown anyway. Her plans with her mom got changed last minute so I’m trying to cheer her up.” At the mention of his ex-wife  his voice became tense, his expression darkening for a moment before he shook himself out of it, a smile back on his face. “So, what do you say?” 

“Okay.” You agreed, smiling back. “You can drop me off.” In all honesty, you had no clue where you were going anyway, this part of the city unfamiliar to you. That, and your cell phone had only 20% battery life left after the palaver of trying to get yourself here. Driving you to the station wasn’t going to put him out so it was fine. 

“Great. Oh, by the way,” he slipped in, as if he’d suddenly remembered something. Or maybe he was just trying to sound casual. “Are you ever going to tell me your name or do I have to live in mystery for the rest of my life?” 

You grew surprised. Of course, he didn’t know your name. You’d never told him. Maybe subconsciously you’d imagined Soobin would’ve relayed that piece of information back to him, or maybe, and most likely, you’d never actually thought about it at all. No wonder you hadn’t realised. You felt almost rude. 

“It’s only fair,” Seokjin said, mistaking your silence as indecision. “You know mine, and I can’t keep referring to you as Miss. Y/L/N. It’s a bit strange, don’t you think?” 

That was interesting. When was he planning to refer to you again at all? Not that you needed to be persuaded. But you were being polite, that’s what you told yourself. You knew his name so like he’d said, it was only fair. There was no other reason, and of course the idea of him being curious about your name made you feel nothing whatsoever. Okay? 

You gave him a quick smile, feeling a little coy for some reason. “It’s Y/N.” 

“Y/N,” he repeated, murmuring it softly as the mystery unveiled itself. 

That was dangerous. Hearing the syllables roll from his tongue so gently sent a rush of heat through your body. It settled on your face, tingling, and you prayed it wasn’t visible. 

What the hell was wrong with you?! 

Written 2020 - 2021.  Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

[in-ky]

Hi! I’d love a story about Negan being a serial killer who only kills “bad people” (like in Dexter) and maybe he saves the reader from her ex who’s about to kill her and Negan can save her and takes her in because she’s a mess but she’s actually a killer herself (who kills rapists etc/ only the bad ones) and Negan and the reader start fighting and then get caught up in steamy hot sex 🥵 thank you!

Savior - Negan Killer AU

Warnings: Warnings: GORE + violence, smut, domestic abuse, swearing, dirty talk ig? idk how to tag this lol

A/N: hey! i struggled over this one for a while lol. ive only seen like. 3? episodes of dexter so. i really hope this meets your expectations! also forgive any mistakes its late, im tired, and i wanna get this up lol. also, is negan batman? maybe. 3.7k words

"Will, stop you're hurting me!" I hissed, grabbing at his wrist. He tugged me out of the bustling restaurant and into the dark street.

"I don't really give a shit," He snarled, throwing me into a secluded alleyway a few buildings down from the restaurant. Will had taken me out to a business dinner with his boss in hopes of showing me off and making a good impression. But things didn't quite go according to plan. "You embarrassed me in front of everyone!" He pushed me against the brick wall of the closed department store.

"What was I supposed to do?" I sneered, trying to wiggle away from him "He kept commenting on my body, saying how he wished he could take me home at the end of the night and do all kinds of 'unspeakable things to me'."

"You were just supposed to shut up and take it!" Will said, voice filled with rage "But no, you and your untamable fucking complex just couldn't handle a compliment. You threw your drink in his face! You're lucky he didn't fire me right then and there. You made me look like some pussy who can't control his whore."

"You're an asshole." I shouted, tears welling at the edges of my eyes. Will's face contorted further into a look of pure, unadulterated hatred.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" He seethed, clasping his hand tightly around my throat and constricting his fingers around my airway.

"I said you're an asshole who cares more about his dead-end career than his fucking girlfriend." I croaked. I hated him. I hated him so much. My vision clouded with the combination of disgust, loathing, and lack of oxygen, so I hit him where I knew it hurt. "There's a reason you needed me for arm candy tonight. It's 'cause you're a boring, piece-of-shit, lowlife who has no skill whatsoever. How does it feel knowing you need me to make something of yourself?" With that, he threw me to the ground by my throat. He wasted no time and pinned me to the cold concrete. His knees dug into my shoulders and his hand flew to his back pocket, whipping out the switchblade he carried as a precaution against mugging. My eyes widened as they caught a glint of the moonlight off the sharp knife. He brought the blade up to my throat and slapped me over the cheek harshly with his free hand.

"You better take back those words, bitch," He hissed, pressing the blade into the soft skin of my jugular "or they might just be your last." A dribble of blood ran down my neck with the pressure. Realization flashed through my mind. I could die right then. That could have been my last moment. Was I scared? No. Why wasn't I scared? Maybe it had to do with the shadowy figure that was slowly approaching us from the ally entrance.

There was plenty of time for me to warn Will that someone was coming. But I didn't. Instead, I stayed quiet and watched as the shadow figure pulled Will from my body with ease and tossed him to the side. Everything was kind of a blur. I was still oxygen starved and filled with a whirl-wind of emotion. I heard Will cry out in surprise and indignance. The shadow figure said nothing. It saw the switchblade with a steady line of my blood. It kicked Will in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Then it lifted up a baseball bat over its head and cracked it down over Will's skull. He continued to beat Will until he stopped squirming. The shadow figure paused and swung the bat over his shoulder. I had regained my breath and pushed myself to my elbows. The shadow noticed me moving and took a few heavy steps in my direction. I squirmed away slightly, instincts telling me to get away from the thing that had just pulverized my boyfriend. The shadow entered a stream of moonlight. It was a man. He had peppered hair and a blood-speckled face. He had dark brown eyes and a small smile perched on his lips.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He said. His voice was deep. I was partially surprised. He wasn't a bulky man. He was tall and had a broad frame, but his limbs were long and his body was lithe. He wore a leather jacket and his boots were slick with what I could only assume were Will's brains. I didn't want to look at his bat.

"W-Why did you do that?" I whispered. It was all I could muster.

"He was going to kill you." The man sounded confused, like I was supposed to know who he was and why he saved me.

"You don't know that." My voice was quiet. My eyes were glued to a spot behind the man, unblinking. He let out a throaty chuckle and dropped to a squat, leveling with me.

"Doll, he had a knife pressed to your throat," His words were gentle "Looked like he was gonna fuckin' kill you." He hesitantly reached out two fingers in the direction of my face. I didn't move. He was wearing leather gloves. The ridged fabric ran along my injuries. "Seems like he did some damage before I could step in. Damn. Sorry about that. Listen, I live a few streets down. If you want, I can get you cleaned up."

"Okay," I said softly. I let him help me up to my feet. He guided me along with one arm while holding his bat with the other. As we walked out of the alley I couldn't help but look down at Will, or what remained of him at least. His forehead was split in half, a pool of chunky blood bubbling on the ground. I clenched my jaw and forced myself to swallow the bile that had risen in my throat. And yet, I didn't feel sad. I didn't mourn him. Maybe it was shock, maybe it wasn't. "Thank you?" I murmured, though it was more of a question. The man and I stepped out onto the street and I was grateful there was no one around to see us leaving the scene of a very heinous-looking crime.

"No problem, doll," The man hummed, setting a brisk pace down the sidewalk. "The name's Negan, by the way." Cool. Negan: my Savior.

~~~

"So you're like Batman?" I asked Negan as he dabbed the blood away from my neck. He gave a short chuckle and tore away the sticky part of the band-aid.

"I guess you can say that," he mused, splaying the bandage over the cut the knife had left "but I specifically go for people that I know have hurt others. The baddies, if you will."

"Is that legal?" I tilted my head, crossing my ankles as they dangled over the bathroom counter. My palms were flat on the surface of Negan's marble sink top, fiddling with the wrappers of the medical supplies he had used to clean and bandage my small cuts and bruises.

"I haven't been caught," Negan shrugged "besides, it's less work for the police. They don't have to do any interrogation bullshit or anything. I usually catch people in the act, like tonight. Then I do my thing."

"Do you kill everyone?"

"Only the bad people," He reminded, tossing away a bloody tissue "only people who have hurt others. But, yes, usually the offender ends up on the business end of Lucille over there." He pointed out the door into the living room, where the still-bloody bat rested against a chair. I furrowed my brow.

"Well, doesn't that make you a bad guy?" I pressed. He tapped my knee and I dropped down to the tile floor, tucking my hair behind my ear and gathering some of the scraps.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you still kill people, right? Even if they're bad? So doesn't that still make you a killer?" Negan was quiet for a minute. "Let's put it this way," I continued "What would you do if you came across someone who was like you; someone who hurt the bad people. Would you still kill them. They're hurting people." Negan took a deep breath and let it out with a contemplative sigh, itching his bearded chin.

"I'm not sure," He mused "I've never really thought about it before. See, I don't consider myself a bad person per say. Yea, what I'm doing might be considered fucked up. But I'm doing it for the right reason. I'm protecting people by attacking their attackers. In the end, someone's saved." He brushed off his hands and led me out of the bathroom, flicking the light off. "Would you rather me not have saved you tonight?"

"No," I said immediately "thank you. Really, thank you. You saved my life. Will is...was...always a dick, but I never thought he'd actually hurt me. I guess that proves people can have a whole bunch of layers." Negan nodded and moved to the kitchen. He raised a bottle of whiskey as an offering. I shook my head but he poured himself a glass.

"I was just doing my job," Negan grinned sympathetically "I'm sorry your boyfriend was an asshole who tried to murder you." I shrugged, amusement in my eyes.

"Eh, it happens to everyone." I smiled as he let out another laugh. I felt as if I shouldn't be laughing, but at the same time, everyone has their own responses to almost getting stabbed to death in an alley. So I let myself have this moment. Besides, Negan was a good guy to be around. He made me feel safe, comfortable, secure. Everything I needed right now. "So, Negan, what do you do? Surely vigilante-ing can't pay well, and this apartment is really nice."

"I'm a retired baseball player," Negan said, sipping his whiskey and settling into one of the armchairs in the living room "Hence the bat."

"Were you any good?" I asked. He let out a loud scoff.

"Was I any good?" He mocked "Sweetheart, I have a whole damn trophy room. I was fucking amazing. I just got old."

"So you're rich with no real job, you kill bad guys, and you have a massive ego," I listed "You really are like Batman, aren't you?"

~~~

Negan let me stay on his couch that night. It was leather, like everything else that man seemed to own, but it was comfortable. I woke up to the smell of bacon filling the air. I groaned and rubbed my fists against my eyes, clearing them of sleep. I stretched my arms above my head in a yawn and rolled off the couch, stumbling into the kitchen. Negan was hunched over the bubbling pan, dodging pellets of grease as they shot up at him.

"Smells good!" I purred, closing my eyes and taking a deep inhale.

"Good," He grumbled "You better fucking enjoy it because I've gotten burned at least three times." I laughed and walked up to him examining the small red patches that dotted his arms.

"You didn't have to make me breakfast you know."

"Yea, but I wanted to make sure you were comfortable," He sighed, turning off the stove and scooping the cooked bacon onto a paper towel. "Besides, I was craving some bacon when I woke up. I haven't had someone to share a meal with in a while."

"Well, if you want, you can come by my house for dinner." I offered, crunching down on a piece of bacon "I've been meaning to whip out the family alfredo recipe for a while, maybe a hot date would give me that incentive." I gave him a playful wink and he chuckled.

"Sure thing, doll," He hummed, putting the pan in the sink "I love me some fucking spaghetti. I'll see you around seven?"

"Sounds good."

~~~

I ran down the sidewalk, chest heaving. There was enough darkness to cover me, but I still kept my head down to prevent recognition. I held my hands close to my stomach, praying that the blood on my fingers wouldn't drip on the pavement and leave a trail. I had been on my way home from the store when I heard some commotion coming from an alley. My first instinct was to run, but then I heard the girl crying for help. Negan came to mind, what he did, how he helped people. I couldn't turn away. I marched down the alley and saw a greasy man pinning a woman to the wall of a building. Flashbacks of the night before hit me like a train. I looked on top of the alley dumpster  and saw a crowbar perched on one of the lids. I grabbed it and stormed up to the man, whacking him upside the head with the weapon. I kicked him to the side and brought the crowbar over my head before swinging it down. It connected with his face in a sickening 'thwack.' I thought of Will. I thought of what might of happened if Negan had never stopped him. I thought of all the times that bastard had gotten drunk and told me I was nothing. I let the rage bubble up and fuel my beating. By the time I was pulled back into the moment, my muscles were screaming, the woman was gone, and the man's face was unrecognizable. I tossed the crowbar into the dumpster and ran back home.

Dried blood is extremely hard to wash off. It sticks to your skin in flakes, creating a pattern of red veins crawling over your hands. Fuck. I scrubbed as hard as I could under the rushing water of the sink, pumping more and more soap into my hand. It was under my fingernails. It was stuck in my palm prints. Shit, did I leave fingerprints at the scene? Would they be coming for me? With a hiss, I rubbed even harder at my skin, small flecks of blood turning the sink water red.

Suddenly, my door opened.

"I'm ready for my s'getties!" Negan boomed with a wide smile. My head whipped around, looking at him with wide eyes. His grin faded and he crossed the room in record time, grabbing my wrists and turning the sink off. "Is this fucking blood?" He snarled, bringing my hands up to my face. I clenched my jaw and dropped my eyes to my feet. "Jesus, who's is it? Answer me!"

"I-I heard someone screaming on the way home," I said quietly, eyes still downcast "I thought I would help..." His jaw went slack and he let go of my hands, running his fingers through his hair.

"Jesus fuck, you can't just go around killing people!"

"Why not?" I snapped, eyes meeting his "You do it all the time? What's the difference? Why can't I help people?"

"Because it...Because you just can't!" Negan growled, shaking his head.

"Why are you so special?" I hissed back, drying my hands off on a towel before tossing it at him "It's not like you can get a permit for fucking murder. Why do you do it, anyways? Is it some perverted thing? Do you get off on saving people from attackers?"

"Watch yourself." Negan warned, eyes darkening.

"Pfft, or what?" I laughed, tossing my head back "What are you gonna do, kill me? I'm not afraid of you, Negan." As soon as the words left my mouth, he charged me. His hand flew to my throat, squeezing my airway lightly. His hips pressed me against the counter. I let out a small gasp when he shoved his face next to mine.

"Oh, but doll, you really fucking should be." He spat, curling his lip "I could snap your neck right here, right now." He gave a small squeeze to emphasize his words. I let out a strangled moan. We both froze. "Are you turned on right now?" He muttered, furrowing his brow. I licked my lips and squirmed in his grip, pressing my thighs together slightly in an effort to alleviate the warm pressure growing in my belly.

"No," I lied, voice weak. A sinister grin curled over the bottom half of his face and he licked his tongue over his teeth.

"And I'm the perv, huh?" He sucked on my earlobe and peppered kisses down my jawline "Sweetheart, tell me, do you want me to fuck that pretty little pussy of yours? Do you want me to make you cum harder than you ever have?" I whimpered at his dirty mouth. "Use your words, doll, or I'll leave right fucking now."

"Y-Yes!" I breathed as Negan's lips sucked on the sweet spot right beneath my ear.

"Yes, what, princess?"

"Yes, I want you to fuck me, please!" I groaned, clawing at his shirt. He let out a short chuckle, muttering something about how needy I was, but I didn't care. Right now, the only thought running through my head was that I needed Negan. I needed all of him. And damn me if I wasn't going to get it.

We clawed at each other's clothes like rabid animals. Once we were completely bare, Negan moved his kisses down my body. His large, calloused hands kneaded my breasts, twisting my nipples between his thumbs. My arms flew around his neck and I dragged my fingernails up his back. He shivered against my touch and slid his hands further down my body. They settled firmly on my hips as he captured my lips in a fervent kiss.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he grunted, pulling back for air. I looked at him. His tawny eyes were now black, pupils far beyond dilated with lust. Both of our lips were swollen and red from the intensity of our kisses. Negan's chest inflated and deflated quickly as his eyes roamed over my body. "You're so damn perfect." I smiled sheepishly and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, looking up at him through lidded eyes.

"You're not so bad yourself," I reached out my hand and used my pointer finger to draw a line from his collar bone down the center of his chest and through his navel, finally ending right over his pulsing cock. He sucked in a breath as my fingers closed around him. My thumb swept over the hot tip, gathering precum on the pad of my finger and rubbing it around.

"Shit," He hissed as I slowly pumped him "I'm not gonna fucking last if you keep doing that." He gently pried my hand away and took a step closer to me. I could feel his hardened length resting against the inside of my thigh. The thought of him being so close made a burst of heat rush down between my thighs. Negan took a long finger and ran it through my folds, collecting my wetness. I moaned as he teasingly dipped the first knuckle into me. He pulled back and let out a low whistle. "Damn, girl," he chuckled, raising his finger to my face "You're fucking dripping. Who's that for?" His slick-coated fingers glistened in the light of my apartment. I let out a deep groan as he slid them between his lips and sucked.

"You, Negan!" I whimpered, wrapping my legs around his waist "It's all for you." A wolfish grin spread over his features as he tugged me off him and pulled me down off the counter. He spun me around and pressed gently between my shoulder blades until my chest was flat against the cold surface.

"Then if you don't mind," Negan cooed, lining himself up with my entrance "I'm going to take what belongs to me." With that, he slowly pushed into me. I gasped at the stretch, balling my hands into fists as he continued to split me open.

"Fucking shit," he groaned once he bottomed out "you're tight as hell. I bet you've never had a dick as big as mine." He pulled out slightly and I let out a moan at the growing emptiness inside. The moan soon turned to a yelp when he brought down his hand against my ass. The smack was loud and he rubbed the red spot tenderly. "Have you?"

"N-No!" I gasped when he thrusted into me for the first time "Never. Fuck, you feel so good." Negan's thrusts sped up, his hips snapping against my ass in an obscene rhythm. Grunts and moans of pleasure slipped from both of our lips as he plowed unapologetically into me. I could feel every inch of him. He was hitting every spot, dragging against my walls in a sinfully perfect way.

"You're doing so good," He purred, kissing and biting my shoulder "So good for me. You're so perfect." I tossed my head back and he grabbed my chin, tilting my face towards him so he could give me another bruising kiss. I could only keep up for so long, though, and the white bliss of pleasure he was giving me soon became overwhelming. My jaw went slack and my head dropped against the cool tile of the counter in an attempt to ground myself in the moment. "I want you to cum, doll, cum around me. Wanna feel those walls squeeze me." His thrusts were starting to become sloppy and I could tell he was getting to his end. One of his fingers danced down my spine and found its way to my clit. He circled it with just enough pressure to get me to the edge that I was so willing to jump off. "Now." Negan growled. I obeyed, feeling the band in my lower abdomen snapping violently. We reached our releases simultaneously. My walls clenched around him, milking him of every drop. I screwed my eyes shut and screamed his name, holding in a large breath as the world around me spun. Negan eventually pulled himself out and collapsed on top of me. We both were breathing heavily, sweaty bodies entangled as well as we could over a counter. I swallowed, my throat dry from panting through my orgasm. When my eyes fluttered open, I could see Negan's thumb tracing circles over the love bites that were starting to darken on my shoulders.

"Are you going to kill me?" I rasped, running a hand through my wild hair "I guess I'm a bad person now." Negan chuckled, still out of breath.

"I think I'll make an exception," He mused, pressing a sweet kiss to the shell of my ear "I don't think I'm ready to let you go just yet."

[northofneverland]

i had to go looking for a particular spicy gif for punk!sukuna and idk how but i stumbled upon this cute gif set (sfw, its just a scene from a movie with innocent kisses and they're clothed) I DONT EVEN KNOW THIS MOVIE BUT IT STRAIGHT UP GOT ME THINKING ABOUT WRITING A TIME PERIOD USHI PIECE BC YOUR WORDS HAVE BEEN ON MY MIND :(

bc i was like holy FUCKING SHIT that man is EXACTLY as broad and big as i picture ushi cmsmcmsmNFKAMFMWMX I HAVE TO WATCH THIS MOVIE IMMEDIATELY 😭😭😭😭😭 THIS IS THE GENTLEST MOST ROMANTIC SHIT IVE EVER FUCKING SEEN!! SEND HELP!!

AGSHDKDJWHSBSB THIS IS SUCH A TENDER KISS. The way he slowly tilts her chin up, the subtle restraint he has as he’s kissing her 🥺 But how on earth did you stumble upon this while looking for spicy Sukuna 👀

I’ve been in a Royalty!AU rut for the past few days and I’ve been trying to scratch that itch. I was talking with @mrskodzuken about a royal reverse harem, where Sukuna, Wakatoshi and Nanami would all be vying for your hand in marriage. They’d keep whisking you away from each other at the ball, and invite you to meet them in corner of the garden at the height of the party where they hope that you choose them.

Sukuna would be the prince hosting the ball

Toshi would be my loyal knight

Nanami would be the foreign prince

It literally sounds like an otome game and I just want to live out each scenario.