#the subway people laughed too so I think I’m good

[pixlokita]

I feel so bad when my friends are venting and they say the funniest insults and I can’t stop laughing and have to take a moment before going back to comforting them

[mikanotes]

Hiii

Chishiya x reader that takes place in the first episode (season 2) when the king of spades starts shooting everyone and Chishiya protects reader in his own Chishiya ways 🙏🏻 And they both don’t get in the car with arisu & the others so they go off to find somewhere they can stay. Maybe established relationship & from chishiyas pov

TyTyTy ❤️

— GUNS AND SPADES

chishiya x gn!reader | ? words

genre: established relationship, slight angst

warnings: s2 spoilers, shooting, guns, blood, death, mentions of fainting, kinda spoilers for chishiya’s past, aib stuff… badly written might edit later idk

synopsis: Surviving in the Borderlands was something you’d been forced to get used to. Getting shot at for absolutely no reason when no game was ongoing was something else entirely.

author’s note: thank you for requesting! hope you like it!! to be honest i struggle with writing about chishiya this way a bit so this isn’t nearly as good as i wanted it to be. also i have no idea where i was going with this. nevertheless i hope it’s nice to read!

The sound of shots was clear. People scrambled around Shibuya Crossing, running for their lives without a care for one another’s. When faced with Death, people showed their true selves— Or whatever.

It would seem that, as per usual, your true self in this situation was to start running away before cursing at Chishiya and pulling him so he’d follow. Sure, he would start running eventually either way, but he certainly took his time.

“Chishiya, seriously.” you scoffed.

Thus the run began.

Arisu, Usagi, Kuina, you, and Chishiya were all lined up hiding behind an underground subway’s stairs entrance, crouching behind the wall and checking through the glass for the unknown shooter.

“Is this a game? Where are the rules?” Usagi exclaimed through panicked breaths. Arisu shook his head immediately.

“There’s nothing. This is just mass murder.”

“Seriously.” you mumbled, checking through the glass, “More people are coming this way. We should get moving.”

You all started running away in a group before realizing there was no point. Arisu yelled at everyone to split up and you all did. Running through a crowd of scared people, all confused and fearing for their lives— It was never a good feeling.

“Ah!”

Especially when some were too rushed in their run and tripped over, resulting in you falling along with them.

“I’m sorry!” the man yelled, scrambling to get up.

You laughed dryly, jumping up to your feet with ease. “You should be.” you breathed out, before ducking and running to the nearest corner. You turned and ran and avoided people and ran and it felt like hours of your breathing getting progressively worse and more heavy before you finally ran into a familiar face.

“[name]!” Kuina exclaimed, stopping in her tracks before you two could run into each other, “Come with me!”

She grabbed your wrist and ran to a car nearby, quickly pulling you to sit down behind it along with her. You exhaled a heavy sigh, your chest heaving up and down and your head spinning.

“You look tired.” a familiar voice spoke casually. You lifted your head up only to see Chishiya look at you with an easy smile, waving his hand from his seat on Kuina’s other side. You deadpanned.

“Yeah. And you don’t.” you scoffed, “Are you two okay?”

“I’m surprised I don’t have a single wound, honestly.” Kuina sighed, head hitting the car’s door in exhaustion, “Seriously, what the fuck is going on?“

You glanced at Chishiya and he gave you a slight nod, affirming that he was okay. You nodded back before looking over your shoulder. “There’s people on the other side of the road. Usagi and Arisu, I think.”

Kuina furrowed her eyebrows before moving her head to the side, signaling you to move over and switch places with her. You did, as discreetly as possible, and let her check whatever it is she wanted to. Chishiya waved two fingers in front of your face and brought your attention to him.

“You good?”

“Yeah.” you sighed, “Just tired. I knew things weren’t over but I expected a little break after the hell that went down at the Beach, at least.”

“The hell continues, I guess.” he said casually, smiling.

You could only sigh.

“You have to stay focused if you don’t wanna die!” Kuina suddenly yelled. You looked over to her and jumped at the sound of shooting right at the road the car you were hiding behind was parked on. Chishiya grabbed your shoulder to pull you back when he did, only relaxing when the shots stopped. Kuina scoffed, “Where the fuck are they shooting from?”

Just as she sat back down properly, an airship of sorts appeared over everyone, creating a looming shadow that did nothing to reassure the players. Chishiya hummed. “The King of Spades.”

“Great.” you commented. There were probably hundreds of pieces of fabric tied together to form a giant King of Spades card floating in the sky, attached to the bottom of the airship. You wondered just how much more of this hell you would have to go through before you could return to the comfort of the hell you knew. The normal world.

Chishiya leaned forward and handed Kuina something. It looked like a can and… Oh. You’d seen him make this back at the Beach one day. He’d made three. They were small bombs but they could definitely help out if you ever needed it. His words. He handed you one as well and you inspected it. “Here you go. A good luck charm.”

“What’s this? A bomb?” Kuina asked.

“Use it when you’re in a pinch.” he said casually.

“You have questionable hobbies, Chishiya.” you hummed, spinning the object in your hand before putting it in your jacket, “Thank you.”

“I second that. Thanks.” Kuina chuckled.

The sound of shots rung in the air as well as several running footsteps along with it. You checked Kuina’s side and saw Arisu and Usagi hide behind the car directly next to yours— Just a few meters away. Kuina tilted her head, “Are you hurt?”

“Did you seriously stop to try and save someone?” you followed after glancing at the dying boy they’d seemingly carried all the way there, and Arisu looked at you with wide eyes, before looking away and grimacing. Nothing new, you thought.

Shots fired again but the sound didn’t drown out the clear, loud honking of a car. You thought you’d imagined it, honestly, because logically speaking there was no reason for anyone to not only show themselves so obviously with a moving car but also announce themselves by honking.

Yet when the entire group looked over to the road there was, indeed, a car waiting. Ann and Tatta. Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Hurry up! Get in!” Tatta yelled.

Usagi and Arisu were the first to run into the car, closely followed by Kuina. Chishiya, irritating as he could get, refused to take his hands out of his pockets to run. You were a bit behind, careful, and caught up to him quickly. “What part of hurry up are you missing?!” you exclaimed.

Chishiya stopped and stared at the ground. You were about to question why he wasn’t going into the car despite standing right in front of it but followed his gaze.

A grenade.

“This is bad. Run!” he instantly yelled, pulling you back and moving to start running away, “Get going! Drive!” he told Tatta, knowing there was no point in risking getting into the car anymore.

“[name]!” Usagi yelled.

Kuina seemed just as worried, “Chishiya!”

The sound of their voices were quickly drowned out when your head hit the hard concrete of the sidewalk as you and Chishiya jumped as far away as possible from the bomb. The explosion went off before your senses could start coming back and just as the car started driving away. You covered the sides of your head with your arms and felt Chishiya’s arm wrap around them.

Everything was spinning. For a moment, you weren’t sure you were alive. Then Chishiya’s voice brushed that thought away.

“We have to move.” he tried to speak over all the noise. You nodded faintly and got up on your feet to the best of your ability, before running away with him— Bullets following you closely.

To Chishiya, this would’ve been fine if you hadn’t been there.

If he had been alone during that shooting, even including the part where he fails to get in the car because of a grenade— it would all have been fine because Chishiya Shuntaro is used to dealing with whatever hellish cards the Borderlands hand him. But that’s where the problem lies;

You’re there.

Chishiya met you before the cruelty of the reality of the world stripped him of his empathy— Forced him into the stoicism of a person suppressing their own emotions. He met you before his job ruined a part of him, and his feelings seemingly didn’t waver one bit at that. The importance of your wellbeing had been something he cared about before but even with attempts at erasing his emotions he couldn’t erase the quickening pace of his heartbeat if he heard you weren’t doing well.

Chishiya made the mistake of letting himself fall for someone back in college (though he claims fall is too ridiculous) and now has to deal with the pains of feeling like he needs to protect said person. You were good at dealing with things yourself, too— Sure, but that didn’t mean anything to the instinctive worry that held him by the throat.

So he watches you, unconscious due to the amount of things that happened in a few seconds, lying on the ground of some empty apartment complex— With something anyone could easily mistake as disdain. It used to be easy dealing with complicated things when he was alone. He was also sure playing games would be so much more simple if you weren’t by his side. All he would have to care for would be his own survival and that would just be it. Now he had to fear Heart games and count you into every calculations he made to get himself out of a deadly game of chess.

It was almost infuriating how much you unconsciously forced him into changing his ways, even after all these years. He figured that was just how things went when you loved someone.

When you shift in your sleep and start sighing, eyes slowly blinking to force yourself awake, Chishiya doesn’t feel the smile form on his lips. “You’re lucky we found this place before you decided to pass out.”

“My God.” you grumbled, sitting up with some effort. “Have you just been sitting there? I’m surprised. Were you watching over me, or something?”

Even in situations like this, you just didn’t miss an opportunity to try and tease him. It’s not like it ever worked, but the attempts were amusing.“You weren’t out for that long.” he spoke as calmly as usual, “Sleep fine?”

“I dreamt of fireworks at Shibuya.” you said, and your voice dropped to a silent low. The shift from casual to slight anxiousness was barely noticeable, but very obvious to Chishiya. You cracked your neck and stretched. “Guess my head decided to make people yelling and loud sounds seem more happy than how it really was.”

“At least your mind’s version of the events that just transpired is less disturbing and nightmarish. Glad to know you slept well.” he said, pushing himself up to stand. “We should check the game nearby. I don’t like the idea of us standing there waiting.”

“Less chances of getting shot by that Kind of Spades, I guess.” you sighed, following him to stand up, “Just as many to get killed, though.”

Chishiya held his hand up and you looked at it, then at him, and a small smile pulled at your lips. You high-fived him and then you both wrapped your fingers around the other’s hand.

“Not if I’m there.” he claims, smirking a little. You scoff lightly and Chishiya knows you feel slightly better. It’s enough for now. The feelings of anxiety are pushed back far away enough for you to focus during games. Enough for you to play properly and keep yourself alive. Chishiya nodded a bit, “Let’s get going.”

“Alright.” you tightened your hold on his hand and you both walked towards the game near where you were staying at— Steeling yourselves for whatever the Borderlands had prepared for you.

[lovelettersforthedamned]

okay this request might be a little specific and long to get it out of my mind because I have major baby fever right now too but what about spending the holidays w/ peter and reader is pregnant but peter doesn’t know but the symptoms are so bad with motion sickness and no drinking and it’s obvious that the ladies in the family suspect and privately tell her it’s surely that bc also they can see it “in the face” but to peter he thinks he’s done something wrong🥺 and she’s acting weird but reader is just nervous

Your Well-Kept(?) Secret

--genre + trope: FLUFF, pregnancy reveal

--pairing: husband!tasm!peter parker x pregnant!wife!reader

--word count: 1.1k

--warnings: language, FLUFF OMG, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of alcohol, mentions of nausea, a bit of anxiety, reader is so anxious and nervous, peter is smitten by his wife.

You cover your mouth to muffle a strange mix of a laugh and cry in your cramped bathroom as you look down at the two lines on the pregnancy test, slowly growing darker. Placing the stick down on the cool counter, you run your hands through your hair. You’ve been feeling off for a few weeks, prompting you to run to the drug store and grab a test. 

Emotions were running high. You should be getting ready for Aunt May’s annual holiday party, but instead, you’re looking at yourself, or rather your belly, in the mirror. You weren’t sure what to feel, but you knew you were nervous. Fuck, what is Pete going to think? Of course, he loved you; without a doubt he did, but kids? The topic of kids was always a conversation for later, but now that it’s here, it scared you to death. 

Looking down at your phone, you check the time, quickly putting your emotions, and the test, aside. 

You and Peter have made it out the door, only a few minutes late. With one of his hands holding yours, and the other carrying a bottle of wine, Peter keeps you close. Walking to the subway gave you time to think. Thinking of both the good and the bad made your head swirl with anxiety. What if Pete gets mad? Can we even afford a kid right now? How far along am I? What would their name be? A soft, but tight squeeze pulls you out of your thoughts. Looking up at your husband, you give him a polite smile, “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, “you’re just a little quiet today. Are you feeling alright bug?”

His constant worry for you makes you squeeze his hand in return, “Yeah, I’m okay, just a little tired.” He nods, accepting your answer for now. He always knew when something was off when it came to you, and this time was no exception. 

After a quick ride, and a few blocks later, you make it to Aunt May’s, her street filled with a row of parked cars on each side. “Wow, May invited a lot of people this year. I wonder if she invited the Blake’s across the street, their charcuterie board was so good last year,” Peter looks at you as he quips. 

You nod, bringing your hand up farther onto Peter’s arm to pull him closer, a sudden rush of nausea washing over your senses. 

Peter takes note of this, furrowing his eyebrows in concern while he reaches out to press the doorbell. Aunt May opens the door, her eyes lighting up when she sees the two of you, “You guys made it! Come in, come in. Oh, you look so pretty (Y/N)! The Blakes are here with their charcuterie board again, they’ve somehow found a way to double the size; but hey, I’m not complaining.”

May was clearly running around before greeting you guys, her rambling giving it away. You giggle at her excitement, you knew that she loved hosting, especially when you and Peter were able to visit. 

After making your rounds, you follow Peter into the kitchen, the alcohol coming into view. He grabs a beer for himself and starts to uncork the wine he brought to pour for you. Bringing a hand up to land on his arm, you stop him, “I don’t feel like drinking tonight, baby.”

He looks at you and puts the bottle down, “Okay. Can I get you anything else, bug?”

“Just water is good for me, thank you,” you smile at him as he turns around and walks away to get water. 

You sigh as you see his back walk away from you, you’re not sure how much longer you can keep up this act. The thought of keeping this from your husband adds to your nausea, but keeping it together is at the forefront of your mind. Looking down, you take a breath, only looking back up when you see one of May’s friends from work standing in front of you. You’re slightly shocked by her appearance, “Hi Miriam, how have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“(Y/N), it is so good to see you. I’ve been good, well, as good as a nurse during the holiday season can be,” she laughs, leaning in close, “I’ve just been meaning to ask if you’ve been feeling alright?”

You freeze in place, “Yeah, I’m just a little tired today, but nothing to worry about.”

“Good, good…You haven’t been feeling nauseous or anything like that?” a teasing tone lacing through her words. 

Silence. You can’t even respond. You’re baffled, “Is it really that obvious?”

A warm smile appears on her features as she rubs a hand up and down your arm, “Oh, honey…You’re surrounded by women who work in a hospital, we could see it in your face.”

You feel your cheeks warm at her confession, “Miriam, I’m so nervous. Peter doesn’t know yet.”

“You shouldn’t be a sweetheart. He is in love with you, has been for forever, even before you two were even dating,” she laughs, “you know Peter. And you know who he is, would he ever be upset at you for something like this?”

This may be what you need. Reassurance that came from someone else was always more believable than when it came from yourself. God! You feel so stupid for thinking that Peter would be mad at you for this. Looking at the older woman, you smile and shake your head.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Peter walking back with a water bottle in his hand, “Sorry bug, I got held up by one of May’s cousins. Apparently, he was there when I was born, and he just had to tell me all about it–Oh hey Miriam!”

After a few short minutes of small talk between the two, she walks away, not before winking at you as she turns her head.

 “Hey, we’re alright,” Peter’s voice, low and filled with worry, lingers throughout the air, “right?”

Bringing a hand up to his cheek, you copy the movement he displayed on your hand from earlier, “Yeah, we’re okay. I love you so so much, Pete.”

“I love you too, (Y/N).”

Placing the softest peck on his lips, you grab his hand, “C’mon, I saw May bring out raspberry thumbprints, and I need to snag some before everyone else can get to them.”

Your worries were at ease; that was the least you could ask for on this day, surrounded by friends, family, and most of all your husband. Your loving, caring, obnoxiously kind husband. You’ll tell him later, but today is all about each other, and the Blake’s charcuterie board. 

--author's note: LISTEN I KNOW PREGNANT PEOPLE CANNOT EAT LIKE ANYTHING ON A CHARCUTERIE BOARD, BUT LETS JUST CHILL AND GO WITH IT PLEASE!!! nonnie, this request is so sweet i'm going to have a cavity. i love writing domestic peter who loves his wife, because i'm so down bad for him. my asks/inbox is open guyssss, so send in more delicious things like this!!! support your writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging pretty please!! ok, bye ily!!! <333

[ashprompts]

𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

a collection of sentence starters from dropout tv's game changer. feel free to alter pronouns/text as you see fit

“I’ve been here THE WHOLE TIME”

“It’s hard to hold this much anger in my body.” 

“If you never hear from me again, you know what to do!.”

“If they don’t find me it’s because I was chopped up and fed to the pigs!”

“I SOLVED YOUR LABYRINTH, PUZZLEMASTER. THE MINOTAUR’S ESCAPED, AND YOU’RE GONNA GET THE HORNS, BUDDY”

“I. CANNOT. WIN!!!!”

“A lot of people have been saying that ___ is a singularly evil, wildly incompetent, befuddled nepo baby silver spoon motherfucker. This is what people are saying.” 

“If you can do ONE swing on the swing I will let you play with all the math puzzles that you want” 

“You’re not getting a FUCKING JOKE OUT OF ME until you let me out of this room! You want bits?! You let me out of this room for bits, motherfucker!”

“Are we gonna die before we get outta here?” 

“I’m gonna lose so fucking hard it’s gonna blow your fucking mind”

“But in this sick rodeo, this bizarre fucked up clown festival, we’re here celebrating what I can only describe as the sickness at the core of America.” 

“Give me the assignment and I don’t miss. I’m gonna DIE before this is over.”

“Your tower’s gonna fall. Laugh it up now.” 

“A river of sweat is running down my back right now.”

“I do hate zombies and I will have nightmares about this tonight. But in this moment I just feel like I’m surrounded by friends.” 

“We don’t give a cum.”

“If you’re in a hole, DYING. I WON’T BE THERE.”

“I showed them my feet, [name]! I SHOWED THEM MY FEET FOR NOTHING?”

“Stop shaking your cock in the middle of a fucking huddle, dude!”

“I’d fuck that pie.”

“If you’re like me, you eat a lot of ass.”

“I hate capitalism but I also hate losing.”

“I get my tongue so far up somebody it’s like I’m tasting their tonsils. I get so deep in there I’m gonna burn myself with stomach acid.”

“I like perching like a little bisexual gargoyle”

“If you were performing on a subway I would take money away from you.”

“I’VE ONLY JUST BEGUN TO PULL THE THREAD ON THIS SWEATER.”

“Icarus flying too close to the sun, but it seems Daedalus our little mastercrafter over here had some WAX WINGS OF HIS OWN, didn’t he? Wanted to see his son fall, faaaalll from the sky, OH HOW CLOSE TO THE SUN HE FLEW”

“Hey can I get an ah? … Don’t scream at me.” 

“You kinda have the vibe that your kids call you by your first name.”

“The day I DON’T curse when a body falls from the sky, call somebody.”

“Could I place an order? I’m hungie. What do you think would be the best pizza to order if I’m quite hungie? Um, I like cheese, what is your largest pizza? Yeah let’s get an extra large because I’m hungie. I’m hungie, I’m hungie, I’m hungie.” 

“WE ARE NOT ANIMALS!!!”

“So long as I am on this stage and drawing breath, you can good and goddamn believe I’ll be trying my best in every challenge.”

“Was it bad that we just started smashing shit?” 

“You didn't count on INGENUITY did you motherfucker?!”

“FIGHT THE BOURGEOISIE. I WILL VENMO YOU $20.” 

“This could be hell. This is very Satre-esque.”

“YOU ARE NOT GOD. THE MACHINE IS GOD.”

“Can you tell us why you’d do this to us?”

“I won’t be made a fool”

“I do feel like I’m in a nightmare”

“I’m the only one OUT of the loop it seems”

“Everybody do the wenis! The wenis is a dance! Everybody is a genius! Who knows it in advance!” 

"DANCE IS A SIN!"

"You think I'm gonna fucking roll over?!"

"It'll be a COLD DAY IN HELL when I go out like a fucking chump!"

"I don't care about winning, I just don't wanna lose"

[your-eternal-lies]

YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME (chapter five)

Main Navigation || Series Masterlist Please follow @your-eternal-library for all my fanfiction updates.

Pairing — Steve Rogers x f!Reader Summary — As his perfectly normal civilian neighbour, you’ve always been secretly curious about the Captain. Getting to know him while trapped together in your building’s elevator, however, definitely wasn’t on the agenda.

Warnings — None.

YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME

CHAPTER FIVE BRIGHT LIGHTS AND CITYSCAPES

The silence in the elevator is as thick as a slab of cheesecake, suffocatingly sweet and just a little too much. It’s just then, right on cue as if to save Steve from the quiet, that your stomach decides to voice its own complaints—a growl so loud that it could have been mistaken for an incoming subway train. 

“Ugh,” you groan, pressing a hand against your traitorous belly. “Of all the times to be reminded that I skipped lunch.” 

Steve grins, but wipes it off his face instantly when your head snaps up to glare at him. He keeps a straight face, even as you stare intently at him for a few more seconds. 

“Don’t say a word,” you warn, though your mouth twitches, threatening to smile. He mimes zipping his lips shut, dropping his shield of seriousness to reveal a more playful side that he normally keeps hidden. “I would literally kill for some migas right now. What are you in the mood for?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m allowed to talk now?” Steve replies, his voice tinged with the lilt of a challenge. 

“Would you just—” you groan in irritation, rolling your eyes. “Anything to distract me right now, please?” 

Steve thinks for a bit, his culinary adventures admittedly very boring. He decides to go with something that always stuns people when they hear it, “I’ve never had Thai food.” 

You squeak in surprise. “No.” 

“Well,” he begins slowly, choosing his words with care. “I’ve been kind of out of the loop, so to speak, for quite some time.” 

“You poor, taste-deprived man.” He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling as your mouth falls open in mock horror, your hand flying to your chest as if wounded by the very thought. 

“Hey, I’m catching up,” he says defiantly, his tone a mixture of bashfulness and resolve. “There’s just so much to try, and it’s not like I haven’t eaten anything memorable.” 

“Enlighten me,” you tilt your head to the side, smirking as you lean against the wall of the elevator. 

“There was this one slice of pizza—” 

“Stop right there,” you interject, your eyes widening with sparks reminiscent of Fourth of July fireworks. “Did you just say pizza?” 

Steve searches through the mental dusty attic filled with cobweb covered memories, “There was this place called Antonio’s, just around the corner from where Times Square is now. Classic spot back in the 40s.” 

“Antonio’s?” You scoff playfully. “That place is such a tourist trap now. The real deal is at Luigi’s in Little Italy. Family owned, hole-in-the-wall place. I’m telling you, their pizza could run for mayor.” 

“Luigi’s, huh?” Steve echoes, an amused grunt escaping him. “Can’t imagine it topping the pie that fuelled me during the war.” 

“Hey! That’s not fair, I can’t possibly compare anything to that!” Your laugh ricochets off the metal walls, bouncing against the crumbling walls around his heart. “You’ve been iced too long, Steve. Luigi’s will have your taste buds surrendering in no time.” 

“Strong words,” he says, his own cynical amusement growing. “But I doubt they can compete with a slice that’s practically historic.” 

“Trust me,” you are all hand gestures now, painting the air with your passion for a pizza supremacy. “The crust is like the perfect handshake—warm, firm, but inviting. Oh my god, and the cheese is so good I swear it could broker world peace. And that sauce? It’s like the first blush of true love spread over dough.” 

“And here I thought you were a cynic,” Steve laughs, incredulous but intrigued as you continue to describe each detail. He can’t help but smile at your animated display, finding your zeal both endearing and slightly comical. 

“I can be a romantic,” you declare, your eyes alight with the passion of a true foodie. “When it comes to food, that is. Especially food that can make you feel like you’re falling in love on a gondola ride—rich, hearty, and oh-so-romantic with every bite of flour, cheese, and tomato.” 

Who knew that beneath that unassuming exterior lay a poet laureate of pizza? 

As the two of you talk food, Steve watches as your hands cut through the air, your fingers orchestrating an invisible symphony of flavours and spices. Your eyes sparkle with mischief and mirth as you sing praises to your worldly culinary indulgences. 

He’s struck by how effortlessly you bring the scents and tastes to life, your descriptions so rich and enticing that his own stomach rumbles in complicity. 

“Seriously, Steve,” you say, punctuating your point with a jab in the air, “if you don’t try pad kra pow the minute you’re out of here, you’re not just missing out, okay? You’re practically committing a crime against your poor taste buds.” 

“Is that right?” The corners of his mouth lift in amusement. “I don’t know. It looks spicy.” 

“Noooo,�� you whine, letting out an adorable huff in frustration. “The spice is what ties it all together! Leaving it out would be criminal, you know? But if you’re really scared, you can ask them to omit the chiles.” 

“Hey now,” Steve retorts with a half-grin, his arms crossing over his normally comfortable grey t-shirt that suddenly feels too tight in the whimsical atmosphere. “Who says I’m scared?” 

“It’s okay, Steven,” you shoot back, saluting him mockingly. “We don’t want to upset your tummy now, do we?” 

“Alright, you know what?” He can’t help but rise to your immature challenge, glancing over at you with a playful raise of his brows. And the words are out before he can stop them: “When we’re out of here, we’re going for Thai and I’ll show you.” 

You both freeze. For one horrifying minute, the seconds tick by agonizingly slow. Steve swallows hard; did he just technically ask out a woman for the first time in eighty years? 

But any thoughts of reneging soon dissipates like smoke in the air. 

“Deal.”

« Chapter 4 || Chapter 6 »

Notes — Great, now I'm hungry! 😝

[shuahoonie]

solace | joshua hong

pairing: non-idol!joshua (svt) x fem!reader

notes: slice of life, fluff, bit of swearing, pet names ft. seventeen, domestic lyf , the one where reader isn’t aware that their definition of comfort is joshua hong— really just self-indulgent because i’ve had a rough week at work.

word count: 2.8k

summary: joshua hong, no matter how busy life can get, will always set aside time for you. no matter where you two both are, what time it was— comfort exists in the mould of him.

joshua hong is solace, personified.

playlist | shuahoonie masterlist

-

life hasn’t been extremely kind to you. first week in your new job and it has already made your life a living hell.

“i mean it’s only been a week,” you said over the phone, trying to appease yourself that maybe it’s just a bad day “maybe it’s just something that i need to get used to.”

you literally just clocked off work when joshua sent you a message, asking how your day was. always like an angel, always in perfect timing.

work was starting to get frustrating and you considered quitting too, but talking to joshua made it bearable for you.

he would send you messages in the morning, would try calling you during your lunch breaks. and if he has time, he would try to visit your place or he would ask you to come over to his.

and when you replied to his text with a sole sad smiley face, he immediately called you.

never in your life would you have expected for shua to be so patient when it came to you, even more so to the people he deeply cared about.

“i don’t know, love,” there are noises on the other side of his line “you’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

“is that yn? tell yn i miss her!” you can hear jeonghan yell on the other line, making you laugh.

“no, tell her yourself!” joshua whines childishly on the other line “it’s my time to be on the phone with her.”

“it’s always your time on the phone with her!” jeonghan whines back. there were a couple of indiscernible words before you heard the phone being passed. “yn!” jeonghan manages to steal the phone from joshua “i miss you! you don’t visit us anymore.”

“had a tough week, bub.” you say softly “i’ll make sure to visit when i have time.”

“how come joshua always gets to see you?” you could feel that han was pouting. “even when we have meetings that run late…” he mutters the latter part but you caught it loud and clear.

“he’s always checking up on me, han,” you whispered all of a sudden, feeling shy. “i actually don’t know how he does it.”

“i know how,” jeonghan says in a teasing manner before you heard the phone being snatched again.

“lovey,” joshua coos “do you want me to call you as soon as you get home?”

“you’ve been really fond of that nickname, huh,” you teased shua, but you could feel yourself turning red.

“only because we’re each other’s lovey,” he murmurs over the phone. “but do you?”

“it’s okay, lovey,” you said, fighting back a smile as you entered the busy subway. “i’m on the train now, i’ll talk to you later.”

“okay, text me when you get home,” joshua says on the other line. “love you.”

you hummed and said “love you too” softly before hanging up.

the train ride home was enough to make you feel numb— maybe it was the exhaustion or maybe it was a bustling friday night. whatever it was, it’s enough for you to forget about the resentment you felt from your job.

with your airpods in, you endured the ride home listening to the curated playlist that you and joshua curated.

you were aware of how your music taste differed from each other— so when home by one direction played, you were a little startled. it’s almost as if you accidentally added the song on the queue.

a small smile was practically tattooed on your face when you saw that it was joshua who added the song to the playlist.

you must’ve done something good in your past life because you can’t possibly think of a reason for you to have joshua hong in this life.

“love you?” jeonghan teases joshua, making him roll his eyes. “what’s the deal with you and yn again?”

“we’re friends, han,” joshua says as he walks over to the other side of jeonghan’s place to grab his water bottle that he left on the kitchen counter.

jeonghan has been friends with joshua for years— he knows when joshua’s trying to avoid something.

“yeah, i know,” jeonghan says following joshua “i mean i’m friends with yn too, but i don’t text nor call her every day.”

“maybe because you just suck at using your phone,” joshua teased han, hoping that his friend would drop the conversation.

“says the guy that barely responds the group chat and has over 500 unread messages?” jeonghan shots back, amused at shua’s insinuation. “face it, shua, ynnie is—“

“she’s special,” shua finishes. “everything just feels lighter around her, you know.”

“ahuh,” jeonghan agrees in a low hum, watching joshua’s expression turn bright as he receives a text update from you. jeonghan knew what joshua felt about you, he’s just unsure if his friend knew it himself. “i know.”

you and joshua have been friends for a little while now— and your friendship with him had stood the test of time. it seemed like it was too good to be true, because he came to your life when everything felt hazy.

you moved to a new place all by yourself, not knowing anyone, trying not to cry as you dropped a piece of kimbap on the convenience store floor— then comes joshua, who happens to be at the very same convenience store and saw how you stared at the piece of kimbap on the floor for a while.

that night at the convenience store, what you needed was a friend or kimbap.

joshua, who was supposed to only buy a quick snack, unconsciously chose to sit and eat at the convenience store instead.

he sat a few chairs away from you, eating his ramen quietly while he watched you pick clean up the mess you made.

after you finished cleaning up— and quietly cursing the universe as today wasn’t going well— you sat back down, fighting back the tears from your eyes and continued to eat your lukewarm ramen.

joshua heard your quiet sniffles while you were eating. he didn’t want to be invasive and ask you if you were okay, but he could sense that you were having a rough day.

joshua has always had a knack when it comes to people— he would always get a sense of what they’re feeling.

he quietly slides you the extra kimbap that he bought for later and says, “i accidentally bought an extra one and i’ll probably forget about it in my fridge if i take it home.” a lie, of course.

as soon as your gaze reaches his, you bursted out crying— which definitely caught shua by surprise.

not knowing exactly what to do, he sat next to you and carefully patted your back every now and then.

“sorry,” you said in between tears, letting out an embarrassed laugh. “i don’t know what came over me.”

“hey, it’s okay,” joshua says comfortingly “you’re okay.”

you hurriedly wiped your tears with your hands, however, it seemed that your tears aren’t quite done yet.

“oh god, this is so embarrassing,” you said, tilting your head back— fanning yourself as you tried to stop yourself from crying. “it’s just a really rough day.”

“it’s okay, you’re safe here,” he gives you a reassuring smile “sometimes, we just really need to let it all out for everything to start making sense again.”

that night at the convenience store, what you needed was a friend or kimbap— the universe gave you both.

as soon as you got off the train station, a familiar physique was leaning against one of the pillars— arms crossed with a bright smile plastered on their face.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, surprised to see him at the station. “weren’t you supposed to be on a date?”

“we see each other at the office everyday,” he scoffed, easily grabbing your tote bag and casually puts on his shoulder. he’s so used to doing it, it’s feasible at this point. “and it’s just with jeonghan. he can live without me, so i left.”

“so, are you saying that i can’t live without you?” you raised an eyebrow at him and he laughs, almost pleased that of your insinuation.

“maybeee,” he practically sings. “c’mon, do you wanna get something to eat?”

“i thought you and jeonghan already ate?” you asked him, linking your arm with his.

“we had snacks,” joshua answers “what do you want to do, love? do you want to eat out or should we just get take out and eat at yours?”

“my place?!” you gasped “i thought we were going to your apartment this time?”

“you have a comfier couch,” joshua mumbles as he pulls away from your linked arms, quietly slipping his fingers in between yours instead. you can’t deny that physical touch brings you comfort— rather, joshua brings you comfort.

“then why did you get that ugly ass white couch then?”

“it’s cute and you know it,” joshua pouts “plus it works well with my living room interior.”

“babe, it’s solid as a rock.”

“so if we ever move in together, you’d force me to throw it out?!”

you practically choked on his statement. “move in?! who said anything about moving in?”

“i think it’s bound to happen anyway,” joshua says casually. “didn’t we make a pact when we were 23?”

“i thought that was just the alcohol talking,” you said quietly, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“i meant every word i said,” joshua smiles at you— the kind that makes your heart beat a little faster, the kind that makes your insides melt. “but i’m also more than happy to yield, if you’re retracting your statement.”

“if we’re 30, and have not found any significant others, should we just get married?” you asked shua after finishing your second bottle of soju.

“i thought you don’t believe in marriages,” shua teases, resting his chin on his dominant hand. his eyes were sparkling in anticipation.

“i don’t,” you smiled at him “but if it’s with you, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“okay,” joshua says softly “as long as you’re okay with it, then i’m happy to spend the rest of my life with you.”

you smiled upon hearing what joshua said. “yeah, you’re not getting rid of me that easily, joshua hong.”

“great because i’ve already pictured the perfect proposal.”

you and joshua were quietly eating dinner back at your place— sitting on the living room floor, backs pressed against the couch, with modern family playing in the background.

shua was watching you the whole time as you ate your tteokbokki with a mindless look on your face. he knew that you were checked out and he felt bad that nothing could lift up your spirits.

you were painfully exhausted that you can’t even enjoy your comfort food with your comfort show.

you caught joshua staring at you as you nibbled rice cake slowly. “what?”

“do you want to talk about it?” he asks you softly.

“talk about what?” you feigned innocence. to be fair, you weren’t in the mood to talk about work and the last thing you want was to pester shua with your work rants too.

“c’mon, yn,” he pats the space between you two, urging you to sit closer to him. “you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“mhm,” you hummed as you placed your chopsticks down and snuggled closer to shua— your head resting on the crook of his neck. “i’m just tired,” you say quietly.

“i know, my love,” he whispers, knowing that you weren’t just physically tired. shua knew that your new job was taking everything from you and you didn’t want to make it seem like it is. “i wish there’s something that i can do to make you feel better.”

you lifted your head to turn towards shua. “you’re already doing great, bub,” you said with a fond smile. “having you here with me is enough,” you hummed.

joshua returned the smile, pulling you closer to him— if it was even possible. you two sat in silence, tucked under shua’s embrace.

you’ve always found comfort within joshua hong. when people ask you what he is in your life, you would smile and tell them that he’s your comfort person.

“so, like the love of your life?” ichan asks with a confused look, not really understanding your answer.

“sure, something like that.”

“are you two dating then?” he asks as you two wait for your work computer to finish updating.

“nope.”

“but he’s always at your beck and call?” he clarifies and you nodded. “god, you two are confusing.” chan mutters, leaning back at the office chair.

you laughed. “babe, you’re just saying that because you haven’t met the person who makes you feel comfortable.”

chan playfully scoffs at your comment and says “well, i’m sorry if i haven’t met my soulmate at a convenience store.”

soulmates. maybe joshua hong is your soulmate.

“shuji,” you called his name softly, resting your chin on top of his shoulder.

“hm?” joshua hums as it prompts him to turn his head and look at you— the distance between your faces were unbearably close. “you know i hate that nickname right?”

“i know,” you answered, not moving from your position. “but you still let me call you that.” your chin planted on his shoulder as you practically bit every word that came out of your mouth.

joshua laughs because you’re right. he hates it when people call him that and yet, he doesn’t mind when you do it.

joshua’s attention was back to the tv, watching the modern family episode when mitch and cam got married.

you removed yourself from joshua’s embrace—propping your elbow on the table and resting your head against your hand. you couldn’t help but watch joshua— having him here next you was nothing new but you still can’t believe that someone like him would be so patient around you.

there’s definitely a sense of selfishness that boils inside you. you want joshua to stay in your life forever, but that’s not possible. especially if he finds a significant other.

“yn,” shua calls your name softly, eyes still glued at the tv. “is my face really that great to look at?” he asked teasingly. you scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes. “because ahjumma gave me extra fishcakes because of that.”

“and i thank you because of that,” you grinned.

joshua turns to you, mirroring your position as he props his elbow on the table and rests his head against his hand as well.

“what’s bothering you, my lovey?” shua asks as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“do you love me?” you asked joshua. a bold move on your part— but you only did it because he can either spin it as something strictly platonic or it can become something more.

he wasn’t even caught off-guard. instead, he smiles at your question— as if it was just a normal and casual thing to ask. “i do,” joshua answers because it’s true. “i think i love you a little too much.”

“how much?”

“like i would let you run the ac on full blast,” joshua mutters with a smile on his face, playing with the ends of your hair.

you let out a small gasp, “really?”

“really.”

“but you hate getting cold,” you pointed out.

“yeah, but you love the cold— like right now, it’s freezing here,” joshua laughs as he pulls the sleeves of his hoodie further.

“shit, i didn’t even notice—“ you were about to stand up to turn down the ac but shua pulls you back down.

“it’s okay,” he says softly, “c’mere." joshua pulls you closer to him, similar to the position you were in earlier. this time though, you're sitting between his legs— your back against his chest, his arms wrapped around you.

“shua, let me turn the ac down,” you said, trying to get up but he tightens his arms around you— briefly forgetting how big shua’s arms has gotten.

“no,” he whines childishly “just stay here with me,” he mumbles in your ear. “you’re very warm.”

“i think that’s why i feel hot all the time,” you said nestling in his arms.

“yeah,” joshua chuckles “but i also think you’re a very warm person, ynnie.”

“hm?”

“yeah, i mean you make every room brighter, ynnie. you make everything feel as if you’re the calm in this chaotic world. if i could keep you by my side at all times, i’d do it.”

you rolled your eyes playfully “now, you’re just making fun of me.”

“i’m not,” joshua rests his chin on the top of your head “why do you think jeonghan and seungkwannie kept asking for you?”

“i think it’s because i feed them,” you joked, making joshua snort.

“trust me yn, if i can keep you all to myself, i would.”

“so why don’t you?”

hi hi friends! i know i've been mia, but ya gurl is working 2 jobs now 🥲 as much as i would love to write frequently, i end up only writing a couple of words here and there— and that's when i'm not immediately passed out. i hope u all understand! ♡

[chocoyeo]

Lucky [j.yh]

>> jeong yunho x reader >> fluff, cozy, soft, really super very tender, college au, i'm in my yunho feels rn and i want him to be one of my classmates wtf >> wordcount: 1.7k -> it's another boring day in uni, you're exhausted and distracted but you're lucky yunho is with you to keep you company !! <3 [little short story, nothing much happens but hehe] <-

[8:40 a.m]

-Hey! ‘Morning, morning…!

-...Good morning.

-Thaaat… didn’t sound convincing at all. Are you really having a good morning?- Yunho’s sweet voice reached your ears like some sort of lullaby. Although it was only nine in the morning, you felt like taking a nap, again. The one you took on the subway on your way to university wasn’t enough.  

You were feeling quite slumpy for no reason in particular, and your friend had now made it his problem, too. 

-What if we–

-No, Yunho. No skipping lectures…- you tried to sound responsible even though that thought has been lingering in your mind for at least three hours.

-Woah, that’s what you were thinking about? I was gonna suggest to go grab a coffee but if skipping class is what you really want to do then…- he giggled, his eyes searching for yours while the two of you were heading to class: the thought of spending the following hour and a half stuck in a room with other 80 students didn’t really excite you that much. You were glad that Yunho was there to keep you company, though. 

Since you still had some time before the lecture started, the two of you quickly grabbed a drink from the vending machine: a really bitter canned coffee and a really sweet peach ice-tea. What a duo… 

-Hopefully your way too sweet ice-tea won’t make you straight up fall asleep in class.

-Shush, at least it’s not whatever abomination you keep getting.

-It’s just coffee–

-I’m sure you’re the only one in this whole university that buys that.

-Oh well… more for me then, heh!- he shrugged, a faint smirk painting his lips before he took a sip of his drink. The two of you quickly arrived in class and found two seats, your hands swiftly taking out your laptop from your bag, sipping on your drink while waiting for it to turn on and load your notes. The professor hadn’t arrived yet so the room was filled with a lot of chattering, giggles and mumbling; students were gradually filling the seats around you and you found yourself leaning your head on Yunho’s shoulder out of boredom. 

-Yunho, I really don’t want to be here…

-Mh? Do you want to skip? The prof is not he– oh! Nevermind, he’s just arrived.

You scoffed, trying not to laugh too loud at the perfect timing of his comment. Shaking your head slowly, you fixed yourself on the really uncomfortable chair and took one last sip of your drink. as you brought your whole focus to your laptop, the way-too-calm voice that your professor used whenever he had a lecture started to fill your ears. You sighed, probably trying to conceal a possible yawn from leaving your mouth, and threw a quick glance at Yunho, sitting on your right: he was carefully taking notes on his notebook– his handwriting wasn’t the best, but you had always found it quite adorable, the way he would somehow crouch while taking notes, his hand quickly moving on the book, his pencil case storing a whole army of blue pens and blue pens only, besides one yellow highlighter and a pencil.

The professor’s soporific voice echoed in the room (since he had decided to use the mic to be heard better) along with the typing sounds of people taking notes on their laptops. You tried to stay focused, yet your mind was wandering away way too easily, and you didn’t know why: so many thoughts flooded in, the main one being a really strong need to just stand up and leave that damn lecture. You sighed once again, and you suddenly felt someone tapping on your arm.

It was Yunho: his eyes were not hiding the obvious concern and worry he was feeling towards you– but you just couldn’t even explain how come you were feeling so blue that day. Maybe it was the ugly weather? The heavy gray clouds you spotted on your way to class that morning? Or the fact that you had stayed up all night playing games and not winning a single match…

You shook your head and tried to bring your focus back to your laptop screen: that half-empty document page was waiting for some new words to be inserted, and your heavy hands tried to type in whatever the professor was talking about, although tiredness was getting the best of you. Yunho tapped once again on your shoulder, this time he offered you his pencil: you accepted it, now holding it in your hand and not really knowing what to do with it. Yunho lightly pushed his notebook towards you, leaving a blank spot available for you to doodle on. A smile painted your lips while you started to quickly draw some little silly characters, moving to writing random comments and words, and then switching to writing Yunho’s name in various fonts: whenever you completed one, you would leave a quick “dummy ~ “ right next to it just to move on to the next font.

You had obviously abandoned your notes, although you tried from time to time to type in something –some concepts or quick important things– but your attention would move back to Yunho’s notebook quite easily: your eyes and mind were absorbing every letter and drawing you left in that blank space that, well, wasn’t blank anymore. You weren’t aware of the way Yunho had been looking at you the whole time: his eyes softened the moment you accepted the pencil, his lips were curved in a sweet smile and he silently admired every drawing you had left on that page while he carefully took notes without disrupting your little masterpiece.

Once he had to turn the page, though, he lightly tapped on your hand with a finger: you didn’t pay much attention to it for a moment, probably because you were so bored of that lecture and so absorbed in your little world that you weren’t paying attention to anything or anyone at all at that point. His finger traced random lines on your knuckles before you finally stopped and looked at him, giving him a few seconds to turn the page and resume with his notes. You silently apologized, leaving a little smiley right next to the few words he had written. 

The moment you heard your professor dismiss the class, you stretched your arms, somehow acting as if you did something productive during that lecture. You did feel a bit more relaxed and you had to thank Yunho for that. In such an easy way he was able to let you silently vent and get distracted, assuring you that he would have lended you his notes. You promised you would have offered him an ice-cream as a thank you gift. 

-Oh well then, don’t mind me if I choose one of the most expensive ones!

-It’s fine, Yunho. It’s both for the notes and for the fact that I basically vandalized your notebook.

He shook his head, laughing- You really liked writing my name, what, four times in a row? But it’s fine, at least you didn’t fall asleep… 

-C’mon, the professor even used the mic today… It was the perfect lullaby…

-I can’t even imagine falling asleep to an old man explaining marketing graphs but I guess to each their own…- you lightly slapped his arm in response, laughing.

-Right, did you hear about that project the other departments came up with? 

-No, I was too busy writing your name in different fonts for a whole hour.

-Oh, true. Well I just understood that some people will be involved in a whole photoshoot! The photography kids are quite good, you should apply to that.

-Me? Nah, I’d rather–

-Spend the whole night playing games just to come to lectures completely sleep deprived?

You stopped abruptly, nearly tripping in your own steps- What’s up with the sudden callout?!

-I was so worried this morning. But then I checked and saw your last access online was at 2 in the morning… with a 4 hour long gameplay… uninterrupted…

You bit your tongue, your eyes quickly avoiding to meet his. You got busted! And no excuse would have saved you in any way…

You had promised, at the beginning of the semester, that you wouldn’t have destroyed your sleep schedule over some silly video game. You were quite serious about that and allowed Yunho to see your game history and access just to keep you in check. A little detail you had momentarily forgotten…

-Yunho… forgive me?- you looked at him, signaling an apology with your hands, held tight together.

-You’re lucky today we don’t have other lectures… Were you perhaps planning to not come at all?- he looked at you, his eyes nearly closed because of the way he was (jokingly) glaring at you. 

You quickly moved your gaze away, clearing your throat before admitting that you were indeed planning to skip lectures and that was why you went to sleep so late. But in the morning you felt quite guilty, remembering how Yunho would often tell you not to skip classes otherwise it would become a bad habit, so you decided to go even though you were completely sleep-deprived. 

Yunho tried his best to hide a smile from showing on his lips, failing miserably because of how cute you looked in his eyes. His hand fixed a lock of your hair, delicately moving it behind your ear.

-Well, I really appreciate how your sleep deprived brain thought about me, but next time take better care of yourself, okay?- he mumbled, his fingers delicately caressing your hair.

You nodded, receiving a quick peck on your cheek.

-Let’s go then, I’m really in the mood for a big big ice-cream a certain someone is going to offer me!- his hand lightly grabbed yours, and you let him lead you to the usual place you would stop by to get some snacks. 

The sky was clear, no heavy gray clouds were in sight anymore and you really felt better, probably thanks to him and his precious company. You felt really lucky.

[peachypede]

Uncharted Tracks

Emmet x Reader

Wrote this on a night I was struggling with the new baby. I’ve been editing it here and there and decided to go ahead and post it. ❤️

Cw: Emmet and Reader are parents and have a baby. Emmet is having some Postpartum Depression. Small mention of breeding kink but it’s only for a joke.

Emmet likes schedule. No matter how utterly disorganized a person could be, they usually had some sort of pattern to their day-to-day life. People gravitate towards the familiar and become easy to predict once you figure out their habits. Know their tracks, know their train. This is how Emmet felt he could connect to others. Find their pattern, understand them as a person.

Emmet’s new child does not have a pattern.

Frustration pricks tears in his eyes as the baby squirms in front of him. Her little mouth opens and closes as she appears to signal for more food, but Emmet has given her the bottle five times now only to be rejected. If only baby tummies came with gauges so he’d know if she was hungry or not. He’s also popped the paci into her mouth only for her to spit it out. It’s now three in the morning and Emmet hasn’t had a wink of sleep. His partner sleeps for now (a good thing as they haven’t had proper rest since leaving the hospital) and Emmet is almost tempted to wake them if it wasn’t for the shame he felt.

This is his offspring. She’s half of him. So why can’t he just know what she wants?

He tries to swaddle her, but she wiggles out her little arms. He tries rocking her, bouncing her lightly up and down, singing in his monotoned voice to her. Its beginning to feel tempting to bring her in bed with him because he knows cuddling will calm her down and put her to sleep (and not to mention probably help HIM sleep too) but he wouldn’t dare ignore safety checks like that.

He’s beginning to feel like a failure. Fatherhood has just begun and he’s failing at it. He doesn’t deserve to be a father, really. Why did he even have a child? He should have known he would be inadequate-

“Emmet?”

The subway boss startles at the sound of his lover who has emerged from the doorway of their bedroom into the living room where he is struggling with their child.

“Sorry. Did I wake you?” Emmet asks, wondering if he was loud with his attempted humming in order to soothe their daughter.

“It’s hard to sleep…” His partner replies. They look worriedly at the baby. “Do you need help?”

Emmet wants to say no. He wants to say he’s fine. He opens his mouth and the words choke and tears spill out from his eyes.

More shame.

“Oh, honey…” His partner rushes to his side. Their hand gently places on Emmet’s arm. “I can take her for a bit. Why don’t you rest-“

“Why is this so hard!?”

His partner is the one to startle this time. Emmet hadn’t meant to be so loud, but he finds himself falling into a deeper despair at the thought that his partner might be able to quell their daughter instead of him and it makes him feel even worse at the feeling of jealousy that brings him.

“I am Emmet. I am her father. Why am I so bad at this…?” His voice becomes a quiver from the initial outburst. “Shouldn’t it feel natural? This is verrrrry hard…I am a conductor on a train going on uncharted tracks…”

Ingo would be better at this, he thinks but doesn’t say out loud.

There’s a moment of silence that feels longer than it actually is.

“…I felt the same way last night.” His partner begins softly. There’s a small exhale of breath, a half laugh, not at him but at the situation they’re both in. “Sometimes I feel like I’m handling things well and then she just…changes things up. Makes you feel crazy, huh?”

Emmet sucks in a breath and releases it, nodding and squeezing his eyes tight. He nestles the baby just a bit closer to his chest. She sneezes.

“Yes.” He responds. His head slowly sinks onto his partner’s and they nuzzle together for a bit.

“And she isn’t crying. She’s just awake. So we must be doing something right. Hopefully.”

“…yes.”

His lover shifts a bit, their face looking up into his own.

“I was reading online and it says they eventually sleep through the night maybe around six months?”

“Six months of this??” Emmet feels almost faint. Oh, he definitely shouldn’t have gone through with this. Curse his small breeding kink.

They laugh.

“No! No, they go to one feeding a night very soon from what I read, but they sleep through the night without any feeds around four or six months. But everyone says that eventually you fall into a rhythm of some sort. You get to know them and what they want and need…” They kiss his cheek lightly in comforting manner and hum.

A pattern, a rhythm, wants and desires…things Emmet is familiar with. Things that his child will one day also be familiar with. And he will be able to finally understand them.

“Anyway…” His partner continues. “You look tired, love. Let me take this shift.”

Emmet sighs, then relents. Being tired and easily upset isn’t a good mix with a baby, he knows that, so he places the infant into his other half’s arms. He gets up, but stops at the bedroom door and turns to say one last thing.

“I am Emmet and I will do the next one.” He says firmly, determined now that he could be a proper conductor for his family.

[vauxxy]

“treacherous”

(any version) peter parker x reader

(rivals to lovers because that’s the best trope)

peter parker ends up being roped into coming to betty brants party, despite immensely disliking the person who urges him to come. the party sparks a strange realisation and challenges their previous thoughts and feelings towards one another.

warnings: straight people and guns and female pronouns and alcohol and swearing xx

“fuck off penis parker”

y/n turned her head away from her lab partner, dragging her hands across her face as she crossed her legs. peter rolled his eyes and rested his head in his hand. “whatever, it was just an idea,” he scoffed, scribbling something down in his note book. y/n furrowed her brows.

“are you fucking serious? a study on what causes ‘goth girls’ to become pot heads? that’s an obvious dig at me and i won’t stand for it”

“what do you suggest then, y/n?”

peter smirked, fiddling with his pencil as he looked up at y/n.

“maybe a study on what causes guys with tiny dicks to become nerdy virgins” y/n proposed, loudly closing her science book. “oh wait,” she continued. “i think we know the answer to that one already!”

peter parker folded his arms and leaned back into his chair. “you’re such an… interesting personality, y/n” he laughed as the bell rang.

the rest of the class quickly fled the scene, most uncomfortable by the two teenagers’ constant arguing. their shoes lightly tapped the ground, y/n seemingly faster than usual.

as she hurried to her locker, gwen stopped her. “you’re in a rush” she stated, leaning against the metal doors next to y/n as the other girl frantically put her books in her bag.

“i’ve got to do the groceries, make dinner and meet with the bank all within the next few hours so i can go to this stupid party you want me at, so i’m in a little bit of a rush i guess” y/n joked sarcastically, pushing a hand against her hair anxiously.

“i can help you out if you want?” gwen offered, walking away with y/n. y/n shook her head as she headed towards the subway with her friend. “honestly, it’s all good. it’ll only take me an hour or two anyways” she smiled, catching the eye of a familiar nerd waiting for the train to area.

y/n and gwen. turned to face peter. “are you coming to the party tonight?” gwen asked, leaning her head on y/n’s shoulder. peter pursed his lips in response. “i didn’t even know there was a party” he replied, turning off his phone. y/n chuckled, shaking her head. “that’s so… like you, peter” she chuckled as the subway arrived at their platform.

the three got into discussion as the doors opened, walking in and luckily finding seats. “are you still pissy about the goth-pothead comment?” peter asked, staring at the screen of his phone. y/n shook her head and arched his brows, turning to face peter. “i don’t give a flying fuck about that, i have the memory of a fish,” y/n replied.”i just liked teasing you” she smiled.

“you should come peter, it’s at betty brant’s house” gwen interrupted, hanging onto her school bag. peter chuckled, slightly shaking his head. “i’m not too sure about that one,” he replied. “parties have never really been my thing” gwen gasped and put her hand on her heart. “that’s so crazy! who could’ve known that the skater boy didn’t like parties” she joked playfully, holding onto the trains hand rail as it moved around.

“you should come, i’d love to see you as a drunken idiot” y/n smirked. peter gazed up at y/n, crossing his arms. “oh, i am not good at being drunk- i get all weird” peter muttered awkwardly, causing gwen and y/n to instantly light up. “you need to come now!” gwen laughed, covering her hand with her mouth. he shook his head, standing up. “i’ll think about it” he murmured reluctantly, slinging his bag over his shoulder at the sound of the train announcing his stop. “you better come, i wanna see you make an absolute fool of yourself” y/n teased, pushing peter lightly. peter looked back at y/n, pursing his lips and meekly waving goodbye to the two girls.

as he left, gwen turnt to y/n. “you know he’s into you, right?” she stated, taking peters old seat next to y/n. y/n chuckled sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “very funny, gwen” she responded. she nodded her head, nudging her shoulder a bit. “he’s got a thing for emo girls, even ones he supposedly hates” gwen affirmed, smiling.

“i don’t care anyways, i couldn’t like a jerk like that”

“are you sure? you flirt with him every chance you get”

“no! that’s just banter, don’t get it twisted” y/n scoffed, standing up for her stop. “i’m gonna go run some errands before the party, see you then” she smiled. gwen nodded, waving goodbye.

- - -

running from the bank to the grocery store back to her house was a rather tiring routine, but she had to do it to make sure her siblings were all tended for before she even thought about enjoying herself.

while she was walking to the bank, she felt a pair of eyes staring daggers into the back of her head, but as soon as she turned around she found absolutely nothing to be afraid of. this had been happening much more than usual, causing herself to become more cautious than usual.

getting ready for the party, she felt the same fear she felt at the bank, but it was more so about what gwen had said before. to soothe her nerves, she called her friend and put the phone of speaker as she did her makeup.

“we’re gonna get pete so drunk tonight, i wanna know what he was talking about on the train” gwen laughed, causing y/n to subconsciously smile. “i wonder if he’s a funny drunk or one of those depressing ones with no filter” y/n responded, grabbing her keys and walking out of her bedroom.

she put her hand over the speaker of the phone and shouted out to her siblings. “i’ll be back in a few hours, call me if you need anything” she announced, heading out of the house as her siblings all said their goodbyes.

hopefully the night wouldn’t end in disaster.

- - -

“bottoms up!” gwen shouted, already hammered 50 minutes into the party. y/n, gwen and peter were all sat in betty’s spacious bathroom, close together with a bottle of vodka and a carton of apple juice. the three teens took their respective shots, each at different stages of drunkenness.

y/n sat back into the coldness of the empty bathtub with a bottle of beer in her right hand and a shot glass in the other. “i feel like my body doesn’t align with my brain” she cried dramatically. gwen turned to her friend, leaning against the cabinet underneath the sink. “how so babe?” she replied, popping every other letter she spoke. peter’s eyes moved over to y/n intrigued by her sentiment.

“i just feel like my boobs should be bigger!” she sulked, sitting up to face gwen and peter. gwen sympathetically arched her brows, cradling the vodka bottle. “no! you have great boobs…” she slurred as peter turned beetroot red and turned away from y/n, leaning against the bathroom wall.

“but what if i want double d’s??!!” she exclaimed, leaning back. peter leaned his head to the side. “for the record, i think your boobs are nice” he stated, clearly out of it. y/n and gwen were both taken back by this sudden comment. “uhhh, thanks?!” y/n stuttered, covering her face in embarrassment. “don’t think too much about it, weirdo” peter defended himself, “maybe if you weren’t such an emo you’d like them more”

gwen suddenly jolted up, as if something clicked. “y/n you’re right, he doesn’t have a filter when he’s drunk!” she smiled, turning to peter. y/n’s eyes lit up, mouth opening slightly. “i’d like to think i’m a very well held together drunk person” peter nodded his head, assuring himself. y/n shook her head, leaning over to pat peters shoulder. “i literally don’t understand a single word you said”

“well, this newfound information deserves a game of truth or truth” gwen suggested, taking another shot. peter refused at first, but he didn’t really have a choice in the matter anyways.

“peter, truth or truth?” gwen asked. peter took a while to think, tapping his chin. “i think i’ll take a wildcard here and say… truth” he reposed. “since when we’re you so observant of y/n’s boobs?” she asked, causing y/n to object. “that’s a weird question-“ she was cut off by peter answering almost instantly. “i am a very observant person, i see things” he justified, slurring his words. “but” he continued, “y/n is a pretty girl, despite her rude comments and scary makeup so i’m obviously gonna notice her nice boobs”

y/n tried to form a sentence but all could come out was a confused “thank you??”

after a few beats of time, she straightened her back and peeked over at peter. “someone wants to get into my pants” she sneered. peter threw up his hands defensively. “hey, no way! gross…” he muttered. “i’m just telling the truth, you’re the one making it weird”

gwen nodded her head in satisfaction. “okay, now you ask someone” she insisted, passing the bottle to peter. “okay, gwen… truth or truth?” he asked, taking a swift and instantly regretting it as the taste hit his mouth. “truth” she replied, curling her knees towards her chest. “what’s the weirdest secret you know about anyone at this party?” peter questioned. gwen took a few moments to think of something.

“betty is screwing the camera dude for her little morning announcements” she nonchalantly replied, shrugging her shoulders. y/n gasped. pulling at her hair slightly. “i called it!” she shouted.

the game continued, the questions getting weirder and more provocative as time went on.

“y/n, truth or truth?” betty asked, crossing her arms confidently. “truth” she replied.

“who’s the most fuckable person at school?” she smiled like a drunken sailor. y/n didn’t hesitate one bit, absolutely smashed. “peter” she whispered loudly, pointing at the boy who was now sat next to her in the bathtub.

peter’s eyes widened, frozen in place. “what?! why me?” he asked, chocking on his words. gwen gasped, grasping at the torso of her dress in shock. “you’re tall and you’re secretly ripped… and you’re awkward and nice but not to me which i find a little attractive” she muttered. “you’re a major dick with a terrible attitude- but i feel like if i was to do anything with anyone you’d be the nicest” she stated as her eyes fluttered.

peter was at an utter loss for words. “are you two into each other and just decided not to tell me?” gwen, cried, smiling as she laid back. “i don’t like peter, i just find myself being very, extremely attracted to him” y/n, bit the inside of her mouth. “despite his obvious and unavoidable flaws, of course” she continued. peter stared at her in shock, pushing his hair back. “honestly, i agree” he interjected. “i find myself thinking about y/n a lot, but i don’t like her” he said.

“that’s literally the definition of liking each other” gwen affirmed, drinking the last bit from the bottle. “i need to get more!” she shouted, standing up. “get something fruity” y/n pleaded, reaching out. “sure” gwen agreed. leaving the room.

moments passed, and quickly y/n moved towards peter. “do i like you, penis parker?” she asked, resting her head on his shoulder. “how am i supposed to answer that question” peter laughed, leaning into the movement.

“kiss me so i know if i like you” y/n demanded, jolting up and facing peter.

their faces were mere centimetres apart, they could feel the warmth of each others bodies.

“are you sure?” he asked, moving in a little closer.

“yes i’m sure, don’t be a pussy” she responded, placing her hands on peters shoulders.

suddenly, their lips made contact as their bodies intertwined. peter put his hands in her waist as he leaned further into the kiss.

the expression turned more passionate, but before they could continue the door opened suddenly.

“can you guys leave? it’s 2 am!” betty demanded, holding a trash bag filled with empty bottles and plastic cups.

the two jolted off each other, startled by her sudden entrance. “oh, shit-“ she clenched her teeth as she realised what the two were doing. “sorry, you’ve got 30 minutes to wrap… that… up” she hesitantly remarked as she walked backwards out of the doorframe and closed the door.

the two sat in silence for a few seconds.

“i can’t tell if that was a good idea or not” peter sighed, sinking into the floor of the bathtub. y/n closed her eyes. “i’m so confused” she muttered, covering her face. peter turned towards y/n again and moved the hands from her face before leaning into kiss her again. y/n returned the gesture, pulling herself into him.

“guys betty brant is kicking us out-“ gwen announced as she opened the door, her eyes widening at the sight in front of her “HOLY SHIT!” she shouted, gasping loudly. the two pushed off of each other again, moving to separate sides of the bathtub.

“umm… it’s not what it looks like?” y/n said, not even sounding convincing enough for herself. “no, it definitely is what it looks like” gwen nodded leaning over to let out an exhausted laugh. “i fucking called it!” she cheered, parading out of the bathroom.

y/n stood up, gesturing her hand out to peter so he could follow. “i should probably get an uber” she stated, stepping out of the bathtub as peter took her hand. he followed and nodded slightly. “me too to be honest, i don’t think i can drive” he laughed, stumbling a little.

the two exited out the bathroom and awkwardly walked outside the house together.

the cold air hit y/n’s face as she stared at her phone screen, waiting for her uber to arrive so she could get out of this awkward tension.

“do you wanna talk about what happened?” peter started, looking over at y/n. she looked back, noticing the large distance between the two. “no-yes, no??” she responded, putting her phone in her jacket pocket. “i’m gonna sleep on it, if that’s okay” she finally replied cohesively, fidgeting with her hands. peter nodded, hiding his hands in his jean pockets.

the uber pulled up to the sidewalk, announcing that the uber was for y/n. she took a step forward towards it before peter grabbed her hand and pulled her into one last kiss, sinking into the moment. y/n clinched onto him as if they’d never speak again, holding him closely.

she pulled away a few seconds later, taking a step backwards. “uh, i’ll see you later penis parker” she remarked, stepping inside of the car. peter waved as the car started and drive off with the girl he was snogging a few moments before. he took a deep breath in, holding his face. “what the fuck…” he muttered.

- - -

it had been more than 24 hours since the party and there was complete radio silence between both parties. peter was hunched over in his bed, staring at his phone as he yearned for a text from y/n ti meet up or something. it was already sunday night and they were supposed to sit next to each other for the first two periods in the morning.

to take his mind off the stress he was feeling, peter put on his suit and climbed out of his bedroom window.

he swung around the streets of queens for a few good minutes, taking in the cold air as it collapsed against the fabric of his suit. he wound up on the rooftop of the tallest building in sight, staring over the city streets. his eyes traced over every movement he could see, swinging his legs over the end of the building.

in the corner of his eye, he could see two figures standing in an alleyway nearby. suspicious of the situation, he cautiously swung closer to navigate the situation better.

“hand over the money, i know you have it” a booming voice announced from the distance, instantly alarming peter. moving closer, he could see that the figure responsible for the voice had a handgun pressed against the second figure.

quickly, peter swung towards the alleyway and dropped right behind the armed man. he punched him down almost instinctively and pressed the front of his body against the cold floor. “what do you think you’re doing, threatening people this late at night?” he asked, webbing the gun to the ground and holding the man’s hands behind his back. “the fuck?!” he shouted, muffled by his face smashed against the concrete. peter webbed his hands in place and stuck him to the ground before standing up and looking at the other figure.

he instantly recognised the girl in front of him, chocking out of pure shock and somewhat rage.

y/n?

“attacking a teenager? not cool, man” he sighed, quickly contacting the authorities and standing by y/n. she had tears in her eyes and was shaking harder than anyone peter had ever seen anyone shake before. “are you okay ms?” he asked, holding into her shoulders. she shook her head, sobbing quietly. “i’ll get you out of here” he stated, grabbing onto y/n and webbing the man to the floor once again, just in case.

he swung the two back the the top of the building as her tears wet the torso of peter’s suit. it took everything in her power to not kiss her again and hold onto her as tightly as possible.

he set her down, rubbing her back softly. “do you mind telling me what happened?” he asked, crouching down to her level as she sat on the floor of the building. she nodded, sobbing a little quieter.

“that- that was some weird stalk-stalker” she cried, trying to explain herself. “he was following me around all week because- because i’ve been going to th-the banks”

peter nodded slowly, trying not to rush her. “i think he though i had money… but i definitely don’t have- like any…” she sighed, drying her eyes. she bit the inside of her mouth. calming down a little. “you don’t need to worry about him anymore, he’s going to jail for a very long time” he reassured her.

soon enough, y/n started talking to the masked superhero about her week. “i’ve been having a lot of financial issues, and boy issues, and like… issues” she stated, laughing a little bit. peter’s ears pricked up. “boy issues?” he asked, instantly regretting it. so unprofessional he thought, internally judging himself. “oh yeah,” she laughed. “i don’t think you’d wanna hear about that, you’re a whole ass superhero” she smiled, shaking her head.

“i’m all ears” he reassured her, crossing his arms.

“well… there’s this boy who i used to really super dislike but we got drunk- like shitfaced drunk, and we kissed like three times and i liked all the times…” she frowned, covering her face. “but i’ve been busy so i accidentally ghosted him- but he’s been ghosting me too!” she argued with herself, perusing her lips. peter instantly filled with regret.

“it sounds like you two really like each other, maybe just be truthful to how you feel” peter suggested, fiddling with his hands. y/n nodded. “that’s probably a good idea” she agreed, standing up. “and stay away from banks for a while” he laughed, patting her in the back.

peter swung y/n home, making sure she was safe before heading back towards his bedroom for the night.

“what the fuck…” he muttered, collapsing into his bed.

im probably gonna do a part two cause im a little nerd xx

also i refuse to edit any of this so sorry if there’s mistakes lol

happy days 🫶

[bus-stop-to-kpop]

Enhypen Reaction #1 - You’re their High School crush

Requested?: No

Word Count: between 300 and 400 each (Jake’s a little shorter, I’m sorry (┬┬﹏┬┬) )

Heeseung:

"Heeseung, Y/N, both your partners are sick today, right?" You and Heeseung nodded, neither his nor your lab partner had showed up today, "Then you'll work together for today." Both of you nodded, but deep down Heeseung knew this was a disaster.

He couldn't even talk to you without stumbling over his words, so how was he supposed to be your partner for the whole class. You sat down next to him with a smile, upon seeing that his head whipped into the other direction to hide his blush.

When your experiment began he immediately offered to work the burner, scared that you'd hurt yourself. You didn't argue with him and let him do his thing, while noting down the reaction that were going on with the chemicals he was holding. "Uhm, Heeseung, I think you're burning our probe, I don't think it's supposed to turn black." You pointed out. "O-Oh, Sorry." Heeseung stuttered out, pulling the burned probe away from the fire, feeling his cheeks burning out of embarrassment. He had been too busy observing you diligently working to pay attention to the probe.

Noticing the blush forming you questioned if he was alright, thinking he had been standing in front of the burner too long, or maybe the burning probe had released some chemical that he breathed in, but he promised he was alright, before running off to get a new probe from the teacher.

"...and then he burned the probe. He's usually good at chemistry, I didn't know he was this clumsy." You laughed lightly thinking back to the chemistry lesson this morning, reporting everything to your friend in the cafeteria during lunch. "I think that was your fault." "What? But I didn't even do anything. I was just writing down our research." You were confused by the accusation your friend made. How could it have been your fault? "Do you really not see it? Heeseung has like the fattest crush on you, Y/N."

"What? No way?" You shook your head before turning around to look at the table Heeseung was sitting at. He was already looking your way and once again as soon as you made eye contact Heeseung's head dipped down, a blush spreading all over his cheeks, as his friends were laughing at his antics. Could it really be true? The Lee Heeseung had a crush on you?

Jay:

Jay would be the quiet and observant kind of type when he has a crush. He looks unbothered on the outside, but the butterflies he's feeling whenever you enter the room are undeniable. The way your smile starts growing when listening to your friends ramble about whatever and your eyes shine brightly while talking excitedly about the cute little puppy you saw on the subway this morning, Jay was completely infatuated with you.

So when you came back from the break pouting, telling your friend how your favorite snack had been already sold out. Jay felt his heart clench, whoever took the last snack should be imprisoned, because it was a crime to make you sad. Jay makes sure he arrives in the classroom earlier than you the next day, putting a bag of your favorite snack on your still empty table. More people come in, greeting him, but Jay doesn't care about them, he only wants to see you.

Watching your face light up as you find the snack waiting for you at your table. Taking off the little post it note that read 'enjoy ;)', you looked around the class for a while, trying to figure out who of your classmates could have left it here. But eventually deciding you didn't know anyone's handwriting enough to tell.

It became like a routine for you, coming into the classroom to find a snack on your table, the little sticky notes would have cute messages or encouraging words on it. Jay loved the way you would excitedly tell your friend about it. The way they were looking over at him startled him though, did they know it was him?

"Why don't you just tell Y/N you like them? You're spending so much money on snacks." Your friend confronted him in the hallway some time later, but he was just shrugging. He didn't mind spending money if it made you happy.

Jake:

Jake is absolutely shameless when it comes to his crush on you. In the beginning it flustered you quite a bit, to the point you had tried to avoid him, but he always seemed to find you no matter how hard you tried, so you gave up. Opting to just ignore.

To Jake you were the most amazing person in the world. No matter what you did, Jake was absolutely heart eyed for you. Right now he was watching you copy what the teacher was writing on the blackboard, a strand of hair kept on falling over your eyes, it seemed to bother you a little. Oh, what would Jake give to gently tuck it behind your ear himself.

You stopped taking notes when your seat mate gently nudged you, "Jake is staring at you again." Immediately your head whipped over, to glare at said boy. You mouthed a 'what' in his direction to find out why he was staring, he just smiled like a fool before mouthing 'you look pretty'. "Shut up!" You called out louder than you actually intended to.

"Jake Sim, Y/N Y/L/N, would you please pay attention!" The teacher interfered. It was embarrassing she had to call you out, now everyone was turning to look at you. You weren't sure if your cheeks were blushing from all the attention or the fact that Jake had called you pretty.

Wait, were you actually starting to enjoy his advances on you? No way! Well, Jake is definitely cute and honestly it was fluttering to know that someone like him liked you so much. Maybe having him flirt with you wasn't so bad after all.

Sunghoon:

Sunghoon looked cold, he was aware of that, but he wasn't mean, not at all, so he didn't really understand why most people avoided him. It didn't help that his friends weren't in the same class as him. It meant he would only see them during lunch.

"Come on Y/N!" Sunoo rushed you out of the classroom towards the cafeteria. You had only recently become friends with him, due to being assigned his seat mate for the current school year, but you got along really well, becoming friends quickly.

Trying to follow Sunoo through the crowded cafeteria without dropping the tray was quite the challenge, but you wondered, by the way he was determinedly steering through the crowd if he had a specific location to take you to. That question was answered when he stopped at a table with only a raven haired boy, Park Sunghoon, you had heard rumors about him from classmates, but how bad could he be when he was friends with Sunoo?

Sunoo took a seat and urged you to take the seat next to him directly across from Sunghoon, he was smiling brightly when introducing you to each other, "Sunghoon, this is my friend Y/N. Y/N this is my friend Sunghoon and don't worry, he might look like a big meanie but he's actually just scared of other people." Sunghoon gave him a glare for the remark. Hearing you giggle at the way they acted with each other, Sunghoon was pierced through the heart by Cupid's arrow. Could this be the love at first sight everyone talked about?

"Well, hello Sunghoon. It's nice to meet you." You held out your hand for him to shake and as soon as your hands touched Sunghoon's face lit up. Meanwhile Sunoo was just watching your interaction with a smug grin. He had the feeling you two would get along from the second you had sat down next to him in class.

Sunoo:

Literally the politest boy you've ever met. He thinks he's hiding his crush well, but really he isn't at all.

Every morning he comes to greet you personally. "Good morning Y/N. Did you sleep well?" And he'd smile his brightest smile, eyes turning crescent and all. It was really cute, sometimes he would even add a compliment, like 'I really like your outfit today.' or 'You look very pretty today.'  You knew Sunoo wasn't just saying that to flirt, no he really meant it.

"Y/N, what's this?" Your friend called out opening the lunch box standing on your desk to take a look while you were currently cleaning the blackboard. "Don't touch it! That's not for you." Your words came out meaner than you expected it yourself. You had been wanting to give that lunch box to Sunoo once he returned to the classroom. He was always nice and complimenting you, so you wanted to do something in return, you just weren't as good at showing affection as he was.

"Sunoo, come try this!" You called out once he entered the classroom. He immediately jogged over, not caring that he left Jay standing in the doorway on his own. You pushed over the lunch box to him and he took a bite. "Do you like it?" You asked and he nodded still chewing, "You can have it."

"No way!" You were taking aback by his words. Was he declining your lunch box? By any chance had you misinterpreted the signs of him liking you? "I can't eat your food, it's yours." You sighed relieved.

"No, I made it for you." You admitted shyly. "Uah, Y/N! That's amazing, thank you so much." His signature smile was plastered on his face again as he went in for a bone crushing hug, that surprised you a little.

Jungwon:

Jungwon felt stupid. Due to being a trainee he was missing a lot of classes, so his teacher proposed for him to get some tutoring for the upcoming exams, he agreed not knowing that the tutor would be you, his crush.

"Okay, can you try and explain this process for me?" You asked him pointing to a paragraph in the biology book in front of you. It was embarrassing, the way he was just rambling with no idea what he was actually talking about. You must be thinking he's stupid.

You weren't, not at all. No, you actually admired the fact that he was trying to put effort into his studies while also being a trainee. You knew he was trying his best, so you didn't mind the fact that you had to explain this process to him for a third time.

The way his big black doe eyes were looking at you listening to what you were explaining and the way his face lit up when he finally started to understand the process. In the end you told him to explain again and if you didn't know it better you'd think he had actually been in the lecture.

"That was great Jungwon! I think you're gonna do well on the test tomorrow!" Giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder while smiling at him brightly, Jungwon felt like his head would explode from how much he was blushing. "Thanks Y/N. Uhm- I gotta go to the company now, sorry." He packed up his stuff, rushing out of the room. That was embarrassing, his heart was beating uncontrollably. The effect you had on him was crazy.

When Jungwon arrived the next morning he found a chocolate bar siting on his desk, 'Good Luck' was written on the post it note that was stuck to it. He was able to recognize your handwriting anywhere after borrowing your notes many times. He turned around to you sitting a few rows behind you, giving him a thumbs up.

He had to do well on this test, if it wasn't for him he had to do it for you, after all you had worked so hard to help him prepare. He wouldn't embarrass you!

Ni-Ki:

Ni-ki's favorite time of the day was lunch time. Not because of the food, but simply for the fact that it was the time of the day he finally got to see you. The fact that you weren't put in the same class this year bothered him so bad.

However he was pretty convinced you didn't even know he existed, as he had never mustered up the courage to talk to you while you were actually in the same class. He had settled for simply admiring you from afar, but now, only seeing you at lunch, that was too far.

He was surprised to find you at the little snack store, your school was running, all alone. Normally whenever you left class you'd always be with a group of friends. One of the reasons he had never approached you before.

He was unsure of what to do, on one hand this was his chance to talk to you, but on the other you were so deep in thought of what snack to get, he didn't want to bother you. He decided it was better to just leave it, taking one of the snacks for himself. "Is that good?" Your voice stopped him from walking away. Was this really happening? Were you talking to him?

"Is that snack tasty?" You asked again when he didn't answer and Ni-ki finally snapped out of his daze. Too nervous to speak he nodded frantically. So you took the same snack for yourself before walking over to the cash register where the woman rang you up, only for you to realize you had left your money in the classroom.

Just as you were about to tell the woman you'd take the snack back to the aisle Ni-ki held out some money to her that was enough to cover both of your snacks. You were surprised, not expecting Ni-ki to pay for you, he had no reason to.

"Thanks Ni-ki! I'll pay you back later, okay? Wait for me after school." You called out as you started rushing back to your classroom, the bell was about to ring any second, Ni-ki should go back too if he didn't want to get scolded by the teacher, but he was too stunned to move. You knew his name! And you even asked to meet him after school!

[olympeline]

FrUK FACE family Parent Trap AU, part 6! Part 1

Last time we watched Alfred go home with Francis and get his first taste of Matthew’s life in Quebec. Now it’s Mattie’s turn. Let’s see how it would go for him and Arthur in New York:

It’s a quick trip home on the subway, and then they’re in the Kirklands’ apartment. A middle sized place by NYC standards, in a big block, high up near the top. Everything is super concentrated and crammed together like the inner part of any big city. Space is at a premium, so the normal folk live like sardines. Matthew is used to his wide open suburbs, so it’s a bit of a shock. He likes Arthur and Alfred’s apartment, though. It’s cosy and very lived in. A colourful clash and blend of Alfred and Arthur’s strong personalities. Very little style compared to the Bonnefoys’ immaculately interior designed home, but charming nonetheless. Matthew is drinking all the new sights in, when Arthur goes through to the kitchen and says he’ll make them something to eat. He’s expecting “Alfred” to go jump into gaming or rush to see his friends that live in their block, so he’s surprised when Matthew hovers in the kitchen doorway instead. Arthur asks if he wants to help, Mattie says “Sure, dad!” (Dad. Dad! This is my other dad! - Matthew, dizzily to himself) and Arthur is again surprised, but also pleased. Seems his boy has matured during his last trip to camp. He does seem a little different.

So, they get to work and Matthew has a hard time keeping up his Alfred-sona because oh dear, oh dear. Alfred was not kidding when he said his their dad was super bad at cooking. Matthew feels his French reared soul dying a thousand deaths as he watches Arthur prep their dinner. He wants to help out and offer advice but it would be too suspicious. So he focuses on talking to Arthur instead. Arthur tuts and grumbles about various things (mostly work and people he knows), but also cracks funny jokes - often at his own expense - and makes Matthew laugh. He has a surprisingly wicked sense of humour under his stuffiness, it seems.

Then the food is done, they sit down to eat, and…

“How is it, Al?”

“………..Fine, dad. Good. Real good. (🥲🥲🥲🥲)”

“Really? That’s good. I think I’m getting better. What do you think?”

“Yeah. Yeah. For sure! (🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲)”

It’s the worst thing Matthew’s eaten in his entire life. But he chokes it down with a big, Alfred style smile. It’s worth it to see Mr. Kirkland Arthur his other dad smile back. It’s also worth choking down the “food” because Matthew can keep talking to Arthur while they eat. He has an easier time of it than Alfred did because Arthur expects “Alfred” to talk and talk like it’s going out of fashion. Mattie can be as enthusiastic as he likes, asking all about what happened in NYC while he was away. Arthur answers all his questions, asks some of his own about camp, then brings up Antonio. And Matthew’s stomach sinks. Arthur tells him Tony is away for work, but he’ll be back soon. Mattie tries to feel enthusiastic about meeting him, but he can’t quite manage it. Alfred says Uncle Tony is nice (even if he thinks Arthur doesn’t love him) but Mattie just doesn’t want him around. Who knows how long he’ll have with Arthur before they’re found out. He wants every minute with his long lost dad to himself. Then poor Matthew feels bad about thinking this way because he’s a sweetheart and doesn’t want to be selfish. Poor guy’s a sufferer of catholic guilt without the catholicism, I tell ya. It’s one of the things about Mattie that Francis worries about and has the most sleepless nights over.

After dinner, Arthur had planned on getting some work done while Alfred goofed off with his games and/or neighbor friends. But Mattie sticks with him to wash up, then hovers again. Arthur is starting to feel a little worried (maybe Alfred felt more homesick than usual this year?) so he says: hang the work, they should spend some time together instead. It’s too late to go out, so they flop in front of the TV for some good old fashioned binge watching. Mattie sits shyly by his dad, close as he dares, and joins in the distracted chatter as they flip between various shows until they end up on The Great British Bake Off. A favorite in the Kirkland household. Arthur likes it because it reminds him of home and gives him “inspiration” for his - ahem - culinary efforts. Alfred likes it because sometimes they drop things. Matthew has never seen it before but soon he’s hooked. He finds himself wondering what Francis would think of it.

Suddenly, a stab of homesickness. Matthew must have tensed up, because he feels Arthur put his hand on his shoulder and give it a squeeze. Mattie looks up at Arthur and the latter gives him a reassuring smile.

“Back home now, Al.”

Is all Arthur says, but it’s enough. Matthew feels a lump in his throat and, when Arthur looks away again, Mattie has to quickly blink back another attack of “hayfever.” He misses Francis, but now he has Arthur too. Suddenly he can hardly believe what’s happening. Where he is, who he’s talking to. It all feels like a dream. One he’s waited for his whole life without realising it.

How is this all going to play out? Matthew doesn’t know. But he does know one thing: he’s so glad he came.

(That’s it for now. Stay tuned for part 7! (´ε｀ )♡)

[noonaishere]

Music of the Heart [J.YH] - nineteen | it is still apples

The rest of recording Jongho’s album went swimmingly over the next few days.

“I think we should add an ‘ooh’.” Maddox said.

“An ‘ooh’?” Hongjoong asked. “Where do you want to add an ‘ooh’?”

He played the song and when the moment came, Maddox sang ‘ooooh’ in a descending tone, harmonizing with the bass.

Hongjoong nodded. “I like that. We’ll give it an ‘ooh’. One ‘ooh’ coming right up.”

“I like the vibe of the ‘ooh’.” You said.

Hongjoong nodded as he set up the track to record. “Good vibe. Good vibe on that ‘ooh’.” He turned to Jongho, “Can you go into the booth and give us an ‘ooh’?”

“It’ll be the best ‘ooh’ that ever ‘ooh’-ed, hyung.”

You all chuckled as he went into the booth, recorded the ‘ooh’, and walked back out to join you all again.

Hongjoong played it back and looked at Maddox for confirmation.

Maddox nodded. “Good ‘ooh’. I like it.”

“I think we’ve successfully solved world peace with that ‘ooh’.” You said with a nod.

Maddox shoved your chair, making you spin a little as you laughed.

Jongho, Yunho, and Maddox took a break to grab some snacks while you and Hongjoong worked on the track a little more. Both of you sat in your chairs, Hongjoong with his knees pulled up to his chest.

“Is that really comfortable?” You asked as you gestured to how he was sitting.

“Huh? --Oh. Yeah. I mean, I guess it helps me think.”

You nodded, slipped off your shoes so you wouldn’t make the chair dirty, and pulled your knees to your chest.

Hongjoong chuckled.

You sat for a moment. You guessed it was comfortable; sort of like the fetal position but more acceptable in public.

“Are you comfortable like this?”

He nodded.

“I guess I’ll find out if I’m comfortable or not.”

“How?” “If my legs fall asleep.”

He laughed. “Okay, let’s play this again.”

You nodded and he started the track.

The two of you sat for a few moments and listened as it played, like two copies of the same statue with your faraway gazes that focused on nothing as you listened to the notes play and how all the elements of the song interacted with each other.

“You know what would be nice to flesh out the middleground of the song?” You asked.

“What?”

“A mandolin.”

Hongjoong thought for a second. “A mandolin? Really?”

You nodded. “It would give it kind of a romantic, folksy vibe. I think it would sound nice.”

He thought for a second. “That could be good. You said you play it, right?”

“Mhm. I can bring it in.”

“Oh, that reminds me: pick out a bass and the company will buy it for you.”

“A-- what?”

“For here. A work instrument, so you don’t have to bring yours from home every day.”

“Oh… they’ll really buy me one?”

“Yeah. Maddox has a few guitars he keeps here and the company bought most of them.”

You nodded. “It would be nice to not have to watch out for hitting people on the subway with it. Or worry about it getting knocked out of tune from being jostled so much and then having to retune it every time I get here and get home.”

He nodded. “Send me a link or something with whatever specs you want and I’ll have the Purchasing Department order it for you.”

“Oh, cool. Thanks.”

He nodded again. “But yeah, bring your mandolin in, I’d like to hear what the track sounds like with it.”

Maddox walked in. “Did you say ‘pangolin’?”

“Mandolin.”

“Oh, I was about to ask how you owned an exotic animal in the city.”

You chuckled.

“She’s opening up an indoor zoo. Don’t stomp on her dreams, Maddox.”

Maddox narrowed his eyes at him.

“I can’t believe you’d naysay her dreams of a completely legal - completely safe - indoor zoo. I didn’t think you could be like this.”

You suppressed a laugh.

“What about the children, Maddox? Have you ever thought about them and their needs? They need to see animals to know what’s in the world.”

“We’ll have sheep at my zoo too. Then they’ll know about lanolin.”

“Don’t encourage him.” Maddox said.

“They can go to the monkey house and see a capuchin.” Hongjoong countered.

“And go to the fish area and see a capelin.”

Hongjoong pointed at you. “And then we’ll sell shirts we’ll display on our mannequin.”

Maddox sighed. “I hate the both of you.”

Hongjoong doubled over at his own joke, and Jongho and Yunho walked back in with confused faces.

“What’s going on?” Jongho asked.

“Kim Hongjoong, secret fifty-year-old and father of seven.” Maddox said flatly as he sat in his chair.

“That’s way too many kids.” You countered.

“All boys.”

“Even worse.”

Maddox laughed and turned to Jongho and Yunho. “Where’d you guys go? I didn’t see you in the cafeteria.”

“I went out to get something for t/n,” Jongho said as he handed his crutches to Yunho and sat, shoving his hand into the grocery bag he had for whatever it was.

“For me?” You asked, confused. Surely you didn’t know him long enough for presents--

“Ta da~” he sang, holding up an apple.

Of course. You laughed. “You’re going to break it?”

Yunho took three more apples out of the bag and lined them up on the table.

“Everyone’s getting one.” Jongho added.

“Are they wet?” Hongjoong asked as he peered at them.

“Of course. I washed them. I wouldn’t give you dirty food.”

“I’ll get the paper towels,” Maddox said and went to the supply cabinet for them. He dried the apples off all the way and wiped the table dry .

Jongho sang a song from the Drama, Hospital Playlist Season 2, It Is Still Beautiful. He only had the four apples, so he only sang the chorus before handing the apples to all of you. Hongjoong and Maddox clapped in the way someone does when they’ve seen something a hundred times before: encouraging but not surprised. Yunho was a bit more dazzled than the two of them, maybe he hadn’t seen it before or hadn’t seen it in a while. You clapped, stunned, your face looking like the Surprised Pikachu meme.

“Wow… that’s crazy!” You said.

Jongho bowed as best he could sitting down. “Thank you.”

“How do you do that? You have to be crazy strong.”

He chuckled. “It’s just grip strength.”

“Ohh… I was wondering if maybe you could like, move a car and sing as well. Something like that.”

He laughed.

“But anyway, cover song when?”

He laughed again. “Maybe I should ask the company if I can do it for my youtube channel?”

“You absolutely should.”

He smiled and bit into the other half of the apple he had given you.

“Between this and the Night Queen’s Aria, all you know how to do is flex, huh?”

Maddox laughed. “She’s got you there.”

Jongho looked surprised for a moment. “You knew it was the Night Queen’s Aria?”

“Sure. Doesn’t everyone know the Magic Flute? It’s Mozart’s most popular opera and probably one of the most popular operas.”

“Hmm…”

“Gotta be top ten,” you bit another large chunk of the apple and chewed.

“Do you know a lot about opera?”

“Um, I wouldn’t say I know a lot, but I know a fair amount. I like a lot of genres of music.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Always have. There’s just so much out there, it’s almost stupid not to try and listen to it all.”

“Then why do you play bass instead of something like piano or violin?”

Behind Jongho, Yunho had been quietly eating his apple, looking towards the floor. At the question, he picked his head up and looked right at you. Your eyes met for a moment and you looked at him briefly with the same level of interest of someone who happened to see a leaf in the wind out of the edge of their vision before looking back at Jongho.

“Wouldn’t a classical instrument make more sense?” Jongho asked.

“Mmm…” you didn’t really like lying but you weren’t about to explain it all to someone you had only just met.

And you certainly weren’t going to explain it with your ex-best friend in the room.

“I heard a song that had slap bass in it when I was a teenager and I became enamored with the sound and the instrument.”

“But - and I’m sorry if this is just my misunderstanding - but don’t bassists… generally not have a lot to do in a song?”

You chuckled. “I’ll admit that a lot of times with band music, the bass will get mixed out, but it’s not always treated like that. There are plenty of songs with great basslines that aren’t just the same note played over and over like it’s meant to keep more rhythm than a drum.”

“Ohh,” Jongho nodded.

“I think it’s mostly an underrated instrument. Like… if you think of it like, it’s ‘normal’ to like summer, the beach, a blue sky, but it’s ‘weird’ to like winter, the mountains, a thunderstorm; winter, mountains, and thunderstorms aren’t bad, they’re just not valued the same way for whatever reason. In a four-piece band the singer and guitarist would be summer, and the bassist and drummer would be winter. They’re not bad, they’re just not valued the same way by most people. But,” you took a bite of your apple, “you still need all of them.”

Hongjoong and Maddox were both looking at you, eyebrows raised.

“Was that weird?” You asked.

“No,” Hongjoong said. “It was very thoughtful.”

“Makes sense to me.” Maddox added with a nod.

“Hmm…” Jongho mused while he chewed his bite of apple. “I’d never thought of it that way.”

You smiled. “That’s because you’re summer.”

He laughed. “I guess that would be why.”

Yunho, who had gone back to looking at the floor as he ate his apple, cracked a smile.

  previous | main cast | masterlist | next

Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added to the tag list! 🎵

luvvvx • iamthehotdemon • 

[eoieopda]

I’d love a Drabble where namjoon takes me to see the tree lighting in NYC for the first time !! I’m a chubby reader btw!

nothing says christmas quite like mlk day! 🥴

established relationship au; ice-skating; namjoon is cold and you’re a lil clumsy, but wow does he love you.

It’s the kind of cold that shocks his system, standing in the middle of his first Manhattan winter. Namjoon had, of course, seen snow before, but not like this. So perfectly soft, falling like miniature clouds as if he’s standing in the center of a snow globe. None of the Hallmark movies you’d shown him did any of it justice.

And that’s saying something. Thanks to you, he’s seen a lot.

There aren’t adequate words to describe it, but Namjoon would settle for picturesque. Ahead, there’s an eighty-foot tree — a Norwegian spruce, he’d read — weighing fourteen tons. That’s the equivalent of eight cars, he’d told you on the subway trip over. It’s wrapped in eight kilometers’ worth of wire, bearing 50,00 LED bulbs. I feel bad for whoever pays that bill, you’d commented.

Still, Namjoon struggles to believe that anything could light up the way you had when you saw it.

Or the ice rink spread out before it. Or the crowd of people, dressed far more warmly than he was, buzzing nearly as excitedly as you. Or the pairs of ice skates Namjoon presented to you after slipping away without you — in your giddy trance — noticing his absence.

You take it all in with a wide-eyed wonder that heats him from the inside out. A warmth second only to your mitten-clad hands on his stinging bare fingers.

“I can’t make any promises that I’ll remain upright,” you warn him as you follow him onto the ice. You’re clinging to him for dear life as he glides backwards, pulling you gently with him as he goes. “But I can apologize in advance for potentially taking you down with me.”

Namjoon tries not to laugh, but it’s getting harder and harder to do. Your grin is laced with an adorable thread of panic as you wobble — a baby deer on legs you’ve just discovered for the first time — and it doesn’t dissipate as you continue moving.

He has to give you credit, though; you say yes to things that make you nervous — like this — because they make you nervous. That takes a special sort of fearlessness. The fact that you’ve got it in spades is just one of the thousand little things Namjoon loves about you.

There’s a moment where your right skate threatens to slip out from under you, but he grips you tight before that tiny squeal can properly exit your mouth. Your face burrows directly into his woefully thin jacket, where your self-effacing laughter tickles chest.

“You good, sweets?” Namjoon asks with an easy grin spreading over his face. He tilts his head to glance down at you as you glance upwards. He realizes then that he could stand perfectly still on this ice all night, looking at you instead of his surroundings, and the trip would still be worth it.

Pink-cheeked, either from the cold or your embarrassment, you return his smile. You chuckle, “I mean, I’m still upright, aren’t I?”

And even though he doesn’t care for peppermint mocha, the smell of it on your breath might be his new favorite scent. When Namjoon leans down and kisses you, it might be his favorite flavor, too.

“Think you can survive until they light it up?” He peeks at his watch, then he nods towards the tree up ahead, “Only three minutes to go.”

You nod firmly, a newfound determination taking root between the brows you furrow in concentration. “I can do it. Just — just don’t let go of my hand, okay?”

Namjoon presses a cold kiss to your forehead, just underneath your hand-knit hat, and echoes your conviction, “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweets.”

[smallestapplin]

I don't know if this was already requested before but could I request pre-estsblished relationship, submas twins(separately). Reader calls them daddy for the first time. Can be sexual or not sexual but I had a feeling are top dom Emmett will take it that way. XD

- Meli anon

At first I was like ‘what? No! That’s against rules!’ Then I remembered me and my dumbass friends belting out loud fake moans of the most cursed shit at each other…so yes you may. I did use a meme as inspiration tho.

🔞18+Only!🔞

-

-

-

🔲Ingo🔲

- being best friends with your crush is amazing and painful.

- Even more so when you are as close as you and Ingo are.

- You relax the older twin, you bring joy to his life and help him be a little more fun.

- While he is your rock, he helps keep you in check.

- Of course this doesn’t stop his love for you, he is just so scared about ruining your friendship and losing you forever. For now he is just content on having you as a friend.

“I don’t understand why you watch my matches online, you do know you can ask me and I’ll happily allow you in my train cart, right?”

You look up from your phone to your dear friend. His permanent frown seems to have deepened, ah that just won’t do.

You chuckle before saying in the deepest voice you could comically muster.

“I’m tryna see where I can call you daddy.”

You snort before doubling over laughing loudly at his stunned face.

Your laughter echoes in his home before falling somewhat silent, the only sound you make anyone just desperate gasps for air.

You’re laughing yourself to tears and you slowly slide off his couch.

He only stares at you, questioning everything, but he can’t help but feel a little flushed.

Ingo sighs loudly “I can’t believe I love you sometimes.”

He hears you take a deep breathe of air “you WHAT?”

You choke, trying to breathe and finish laughing at the same time.

Oh no.

-

🔳Emmet🔳

- oh the chaos you two bring.

- He adores you and whatever you say.

- No matter what! Emmet is a very sweet, affectionate man, even if he does have a crush on you that doesn’t free you from his hugs.

- Unlike his brother, you’re always welcomed on his train cart even if it’s just to keep him company.

- He offers everyday to take you to work with him, cause he gets so lonely! And it’s soooo boring waiting for challengers.

- This has led to trainers walking in on the funniest or dumbest conversations known to man.

- Today however is different.

“I’m verrry tired of people saying something about my monotoned voice, like I’m sooo sorry I can’t sound like your anime waifu!”

You snort at Emmet’s rant.

“Sorry I can’t ‘homph’ while eating.”

You’re cackling at his poor attempts to mimic the sound, this bit was too good to pass up.

“They just want you to coo at them with some emotions Em!”

Emmet rolls his eyes and huffs into a pout.

You take a dramatic pose on the subway seats.

“Oh daddy Emmet won’t you please call me oh so sweetly your good darling!” You finish saying as you lay across the seats in a relaxed ‘draw me like one of your Kalos girls’ pose.

Completely missing how he perks up at the new title.

“Oh?”

You hum and look at him, your expression morphs into confusion at Emmet’s own expression.

While true he’s an expressive man, he has a light blush dusted across his cheeks, his breathing seems to be uneven, his smile looks crooked, along with him looking like he’s fighting drool.

“Uh…Em?”

“H-huh? Oh! Right, I am sorry! Anyways!”

He speeds right passed your suspicious look and rambling about something.

You wonder what’s up with your friend.

You don’t need to know he’s thinking about taking you on those subway seats and fill you with his undying love.

[theoddcatlady]

Pieces and Parts

My ‘father’ calls me Miranda, but I’m not sure if that’s entirely true. But you can just call me that too, I guess.

The only thing I know for sure is that three weeks ago, I died. And two weeks ago, I came back in my father’s basement.

It was dark, I was cold. I couldn’t move my right arm or leg. I tried getting up off the table I was laying on but I ended up just face planting on the floor. Despite the feel of blood trickling from my nose it didn’t hurt.

A gentle hand rested on my back and I looked up to see an old man with thinning white hair and silver glasses. He looked like your typical grandpa.

“It looks like you were a success. I’ll call you Miranda.”

I looked down then to see how my right arm was stitched onto my torso, how the light brown skin of my calf didn’t match my pale white thigh.

I’ve spent a lot of time examining myself. I believe that externally, I’m made of three different people. I believe all of them were women. Internally is an entirely different matter. I cannot confirm either way. I’m an amalgamation of many different people, and it shows.

For example, I’m quite sure I died in a car accident. I was driving home with friends, I made a bad joke, we all laughed, a deer stepped in front of the car and I swerved to avoid it. I remember crunching metal, how my friends screamed… and then nothing.

But I’m also certain I was shot. I get flashes of feeling the muzzle of a gun pressed against my chest, how I sobbed and begged for mercy. I may have also committed suicide by hanging, or the leukemia that plagued me my entire life finally finished me off.

I may have died a virgin or I had a son. Maybe I struggled with school my whole life because of dyslexia and ADHD, or I was about to graduate at the top of my class at an elite college. Maybe I was out hiking every weekend, or I lived for rainy days so I could curl up on my couch with a laptop and a cat. Maybe I was allergic to cats, I don’t know.

Maybe it’s all of the above. All the experiences of the people I was before turning into one singular being.

My father’s name is Albert. I’m not his first experiment, but I’m the most successful. I am still relearning how to talk, but I can type and have average intelligence. That’s more than I can say for Michelle and Nathaniel.

They’re the other two successes of my father, but they’re not nearly as advanced as I am. Nathaniel acts like a little boy despite looking to be in his mid thirties, he loves the color red and he thinks it’s so funny to pop out his brown eye and hide it someplace for me to find. When I do find it I always jump out of my skin, and since my legs are different lengths I tend to tumble to the ground. Then he comes around the corner giggling as he puts his eye back in.

Poor Michelle is constantly afraid. Michelle looks like a seven year old girl and is constantly on high alert. If she doesn’t want anyone to find her, no one will, but she obeys our father and always stays in the house. But given her petite size and the fact she can bend any which way she wants, she can hide quite literally anywhere for hours, even days before she comes out.

I’m not sure if our father loves us or he’s fascinated by us, but he can be very strict. We’re not allowed to leave the house. I tried to go for a walk and ended up getting locked in a closet for three days. Nathaniel was nice enough to bring me a hamburger and fries on my second day in there. We don’t really need to eat, but it feels good to have a full stomach.

We’re also not allowed to ask how father made us. He says he’s still working on perfecting the process, and he’d rather not share until he knows it’s complete. He did tell us that he did bring us back from the dead, and for that we should be eternally grateful for.

I’m not sure if I am, but I’m not sure of anything nowadays.

I want to go home. But I’m not sure where home is. Is it in a big city, where I took the subway every day to work? Or is it this small town where we always get snowed in every winter? I can’t be certain.

There’s also the fact I may just fall apart if I run away. Although father does his best, he’s not very good at sewing. Nathaniel is far better at it than him, but if he catches us he tends to start screaming about ‘messing with his design’.

That’s another thing: he doesn’t want anyone to change what he’s made. Since we are his children, and we should be grateful to him, we are to do exactly what he says and to not change how he made us. Even though Nathaniel struggles to figure out how to tie his shoes, Michelle can’t go a night without having a screaming nightmare and the stitches on my gut are constantly coming undone, he refuses to see how we could be improved. He only prepares for the next experiment, deciding that next time he’ll be the one to get it right.

But I suppose that’s why I’m here. Whether I’m Miranda, or Andrea, or Lucy, or Maria, I’m here. I’m here for a reason. And that reason is to fix his mistakes.

Thankfully he’s one of those old people who believes ‘1234’ is a successful password, allowing me access to his computer to do research. Michelle helps me find his notes and while he sleeps at night I study. Nathaniel makes sure I have plenty of hot drinks to keep my belly warm.

He’s already almost a quarter ways done with his next child, but I’ve been watching. This one will not be any better than us. Once again he’ll bring someone back in this half dead half alive state, caught in miserable paranoia or worse.

But I’ll be fixing him. Once I figure out how father keeps screwing us up, I’ll fix everything.

And if he objects, well… he’s going to learn quite quickly that he’s outnumbered three to one.

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Moodboard by @softhecreator

Mr. Chalamet

chapter three: famous last words

AO3 info one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven epilogue

All my work is 18+.

I’m sorry, but I fell in love tonight. I didn’t mean to fall in love tonight. You’re looking like you fell in love tonight. Can we pretend that we’re in love?- Halsey, Is There Somewhere

She hadn’t seen him hardly at all in the week or so since what she now thought of as The Incident. Sure, he’d come to pick up Elle from her apartment a few times, so she’d caught glances of him then, and he’d always wave (in one instance, she’d had to come up with an excuse as to why she absolutely could not come out to say hi, no matter how quick Elle told her that he had promised to be), but she hadn’t actually spoken to him. Which was, of course, all according to plan. She wouldn’t go over to his house for the foreseeable future.

Elle had questioned it once or twice, but she was good about not pushing if Lea didn’t feel up to sharing. The guilt was… difficult. She’d never had a secret of such magnitude before. She should probably come clean about it to Elle, but how did you even tell someone like that? The more she thought about it, the guiltier she felt.

Lea’s last final was on May 14th, and when she exited the building and made her way towards the sidewalk to head down to the subway, the sight of an all too familiar car stopped her in her tracks.

As soon as its driver saw her, he got out of the car and strolled over to her.

Mr. Chalamet was wearing a hoodie and sunglasses, the way he usually did when he didn’t want to be noticed, but a few people whose brains hadn’t been completely fried from finals just yet still turned to look at him.

Lea took several steps back, her fight or flight response rising and fast. It was definitely gonna be flight, too.

He must’ve seen the look in her eyes, because he lifted his hands placatingly and said, “Don’t freak out. I just wanna talk.”

People knew her there. It wasn’t a very big school. Everybody in the drama department knew who she was, and if there was one thing Lea hated, it was making a public scene, especially in front of people she knew.

Glaring fiercely at him, she marched over to his car, opened the door, and got in. He followed after her.

“You’re making this very difficult for me,” she snapped.

He glanced over at her as he pulled out onto the street, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “It doesn’t have to be difficult.”

“Being around you at all is difficult,” she informed him, “and there’s really no way to avoid that except to avoid you.”

“Yes, well,” he sighed, “I’m afraid that doesn’t work for me. We’re going to discuss this like adults.”

“That doesn’t work for me,” Lea grumbled.

“Tough shit.” Despite his words, his voice was cheerful.

“What are you so damn happy about?” she griped.

“I think it’s normal to be happy about getting to spend time with the girl you like.”

Lea bristled, flushing and shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “…You shouldn’t say things like that, Mr. Chalamet,” she grumbled.

“Would you prefer I lie to you instead?” he asked as they turned into a driveway on the outskirts of the city.

“Where are you taking me?” she said instead of answering him.

“You like old stuff, right?” he questioned, knowing her penchant for history. “You must, since you like me.”

She whipped her head around, glaring at him again.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said with a laugh. “I’m legally obligated to make dad jokes. It’s in my contract.”

Lea rolled her eyes and was about to say something snarky when she caught sight of the house, and then she understood what he meant about her liking it. It was a beautiful Victorian mansion of red brick with a wraparound porch.

She was shocked, astonished by the gorgeousness of the house even as they walked up to the porch. He unlocked the set of double doors that must’ve been twice her height, and they stepped inside.

Her jaw dropped.

The walls and ceilings were handpainted—elaborately, at that—and the floors were hardwood. The furnishings were of the time period, it looked like, which she thought was a nice touch.

“Do you like it?” he asked gently from behind her as she stepped hesitantly further into the house.

Lea had forgotten that she was upset with him forcing a discussion she didn’t want to have on her, marveling at the work of art she was standing in.

“It’s even more gorgeous than the other one,” she breathed in amazement. “Why did you bring me here?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute. C’mon, let’s go to the living room.”

She followed him through an archway to the right into a baroque style room with two fireplaces—yes, two—and a large fresco on the ceiling that had a chandelier hanging from the center of it.

“Is this house yours?” she wanted to know, looking up at the fresco, noting baby angels painted amongst the white clouds against a soft blue sky.

“Yeah,” Mr. Chalamet said, pulling her by the hand to sit next to him on a loveseat. “Elle doesn’t know about it. I’m glad you like it, though.”

“It’s… really nice,” she told him, scooting as far away from him as she could manage, “but again: why did you bring me here?”

He frowned at her choosing to put distance between them, but didn’t comment on it. “I’ll explain that in a minute. I’d like to tell you about my feelings for you first.”

She tensed. “I’d rather not hear about your feelings for me.”

“Why not?” he asked with a confident grin. “Are you concerned they’ll make you want me even more than you already do?”

Lea glowered at him, scrunching her nose up with displeasure, but remained silent.

He laughed then, and although her frown deepened, he still informed her, “Whatever the reason, I’m sorry you don’t want to hear them. It’s necessary, however, so just listen to me, please.”

“Fine.” She crossed her arms over herself and looked at him expectantly.

“I meant it when I told you I couldn’t get you out of my head,” he began. “I remember meeting you, and you had the cutest braid in your hair. You blushed when you saw me for the first time, and you didn’t stop until you left that night. I remember thinking you were adorable, that you looked so soft. I had to keep telling myself it wasn’t appropriate, that you wouldn’t be interested in me for a number of reasons. That I shouldn’t be interested in you, either.” He took a deep breath. “I was, though. And then as I got to know you, it just got worse and worse.”

“Mr. Chalamet—“ she tried to interject.

“Let me finish,” he pleaded gently. “I need you to understand.” She nodded reluctantly, and he continued. “I had a girlfriend when we first met, y’know. I broke up with her after a few weeks of knowing you. I can sleep with other women, sure, but it turns out I can’t date them. There’s no point.”

“You had a wife when we first met,” she corrected firmly. “As for the other stuff, that sucks, and I’m sorry, but it doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” he corrected. “And I thought it might end up with me telling you this,” he sighed. “Lola and I… well. We haven’t been involved with one another romantically—or even sexually—for a long time now. We weren’t very serious about each other before we got married—we weren’t exclusive; both of us were seeing other people when we found out she was pregnant—and we did try after the wedding, for Elle’s sake more than our own, but neither of us were happy. I’m not going to lie and say there were never any feelings there, but I was never in love with her, and she was certainly never in love with me.”

“So what, you just cheat on her?”

“No,” he said patiently, “I don’t cheat on her. She did, however, cheat on me. Elle was two, and I… well. I caught Lola with someone else. After that, she suggested we see other people, but stay married for Elle’s sake. Lola lived with us more often than not until Elle hit her teens. Since then, she’s usually been in LA. If Elle sees her at all, it’s generally because she goes over there for her breaks.”

“So…” Lea furrowed her brows. “You have her permission to sleep around? Have you ever even been in love?”

“I have been in love,” he nodded. “Not with her, like I said, but I have felt it before. I have her permission to be with anyone I want,” Mr. Chalamet corrected, “and I want to be with you.”

She looked down at her lap, wringing her hands. “I don’t want to be somebody’s side chick.”

“You wouldn’t be my side chick, sweetheart,” he assured her with a gentle smile. “You’d be my girlfriend.”

“It’s not a good idea,” she mumbled. “It’s already beyond fucked up that I feel this way about you, that we…” She didn’t finish her sentence, taking a deep breath instead. “You’re too old for me, Mr. Chalamet. You’re married. You have a kid who’s my friend—yeah, she’s two and a half years younger than I am, but I’m still closer to her in age than I am to you, and by over a decade, no less, sixteen years is a hell of an age difference—and I feel guilty enough as it is about last week. I’ll get over you eventually, I’m sure, I just need time.”

“I don’t want you to get over me, and I don’t want to get over you, either,” he told her flatly. “I want to kiss you again.”

“That is also a bad idea.”

“I like you, Lea,” he said quietly. “I like you a lot.”

“You shouldn’t,” she whispered. “Not that way, at least.”

“But I do,” he insisted, reaching out to take her hand. “I do like you that way.”

“You’re married,” Lea reminded him, snatching her hand away. “To the mother of one of my friends, no less.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “and I want to be with you anyway. I can tell that you want to be with me, too. And I promise you, she wouldn’t care.”

“You don’t get it,” she snapped. “Next to your marriage, anything with me would just be— it’d be a hookup, meaningless sex and nothing more, and I don’t want that. Not with anyone.” Then, she admitted, “Especially not with you.”

“How could you think—“ he sputtered before taking a deep breath and saying, “I don’t want that, either. I’m not going to tell you I don’t want you that way—of course I want you that way—, but it would be so much more than that. It could never be just sex between us. Not for me.” Another pause. “It would be about more than just pleasure; it would be about intimacy and affection and a physical expression of what we mean to each other.”

She wanted what he was offering more desperately than she’d ever wanted anything in her life. She yearned for him, ached for him, but she couldn’t have him. Tears slid down her cheeks, and she shook her head, looking away from him. 

“Lea,” Mr. Chalamet began gently, “I meant it when I said I’d worship you. All you have to do is let me. I’ll take such good care of you, sweetheart.”

“I don’t understand,” she confessed tearfully. “Take care of me? I can take care of myself, I—“

“Of course you can,” he agreed with a nod, “but I’d give you anything you wanted, plus anything I wanted to give you.”

“What are you talking about?”

He took her hand in his, and this time, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. “Anything you want,” he repeated. “Clothes, jewelry, cars, trips wherever you like. I could get you any job you wanted the second you graduate. If you don’t want to work, you don’t have to.”

“I’d be your mistress, then,” she observed, her voice flat. “A kept woman, so to speak.”

“I don’t care what you call it,” Mr. Chalamet informed her. “As long as you’re mine, the label is irrelevant.” 

She narrowed her eyes. “Why did you bring me here?” she wanted to know. “You said you’d tell me why.”

He was silent for a moment before saying, “So you can see what I want to give you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lea,” he began, “if you agree to this, I’ll give you anything you want. Including this house or any other.”

“You’d give me a house?” she asked shrilly, astonished at this declaration.

“It’s safer than your apartment,” he pointed out, “and we could be together in peace here. I wouldn’t have to hide how I feel about you.”

Her mind was reeling, trying to process this bizarre piece of information. “I… I can’t afford a mortgage,” she finally managed to squeak.

He smiled at her indulgently. “I paid cash for it, angel. I’m paying off a place in France and that’s it. Everything else was low enough for me to pay cash. And anyway, I wouldn’t expect you to pay for anything ever again. I’d rather you didn’t, in fact.”

Just how rich was this guy?

Lea stared at him miserably. “For what it’s worth, I wish I could.”

“You’re saying no, then?”

She nodded tearfully. “It’s not that I don’t want to be with you.”

He nodded his understanding. “I know you do.”

“I just…” She sighed. “I can’t. We can’t.”

“We can,” Mr. Chalamet corrected. “We absolutely can. I understand your feelings, and I’ll do my best to back off if that’s what you need, but don’t say we can’t when we can.” 

She was silent, unable to formulate the words to respond.

After several seconds, he added, “All I ask is that you stop avoiding me. We can be just friends, I’ll accept that. But please don’t shut me out. Especially not because of how you feel about me.”

Lea got the sense that he wouldn’t budge on that, so she nodded. “Yeah, alright. Just friends.”

He examined her face closely. “May I kiss you again?”

She jolted in surprise at this request. “What?”

He smiled sadly at her. “A farewell to what could have been. Please?”

She nodded again, shocked at her own response, but then he was cupping her cheek and leaning in, pressing his lips to hers. It was soft and sweet, the same way their first kiss had been before things had escalated, and Lea shifted closer to him so as to kiss him back.

It was intense, but relatively chaste as far as such things went. Still, there was passion bubbling under the surface, and she could almost taste it.

When he finally pulled away, he leaned his forehead against hers, exhaling slowly. “If you change your mind, say the word and I’m yours.”

“I wish you could be,” Lea confessed quietly. “I really, really do.”

“I can be,” he promised. “I want to be. I hope you do change your mind so I can show you what you mean to me. What we could have.”

“This little piece of heaven was enough,” she whispered. “I’m content.”

He nuzzled her nose with his. “It’s not enough for me. Nothing with you could ever be enough. Not if I don’t possess your heart. Your soul.”

Lea took a deep, shuddering breath. “Us being together would have no impact on that.”

He smiled, and she knew he understood.

“If you change your mind,” he repeated, “tell me. For now, though, friends?”

She nodded. “Just friends.”

He grinned that overconfident grin of his. “Famous last words.” When he spoke, his lips brushed against hers, and her skin was tingling. Or maybe it was her blood thrumming through her veins, she wasn’t sure. “Can we pretend?” he breathed. “Just for tonight. I’ll— I’ll take you home, and we can act like nothing happened, but…”

“Pretend?” Lea asked, confused.

He nodded. “Pretend we’re together. I just…” A sigh, his shoulders slumping a bit. “If I can’t have you, will you at least let me pretend for awhile?”

Her eyes widened as his meaning clicked into place in her mind. “What, um.” She gulped. “What would that entail?”

“Nothing we haven’t already done,” he assured her gently. “Let me just… just treat you like you’re mine. Hold you like you’re mine. I want to hear you you say my name the way you did before.”

Her heart ached, but… oh, he was so close, and he smelled so good, like cologne and cigarettes and man and she was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that she would die if she didn’t kiss him again.

“Okay,” Lea murmured.

He smiled, though there was sadness in his gaze when he looked at her. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he warned, “and when I do, if you say my name, do not call me Mr. Chalamet.”

Nodding wordlessly, she tilted her head up just enough to press her lips to his, and he was frozen momentarily in surprise at her taking initiative, but then he smiled into the kiss and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer and kissing her back.

Just this once, she promised herself. Let me have this just once and then I’ll never touch him again, I swear.

Threading her fingers into his hair and pressing her body against his, she did her best to move her mouth over his the way he was doing with her, and then he was sucking her bottom lip.

He trailed kisses down the column of her throat, and she leaned her head back, whimpering softly. “Timothée,” she exhaled.

“God, Lea, I—“ he cut himself off briefly, his hands bunching up her shirt at the small of her back. “I want to take you upstairs.”

“What’s upstairs?” she wondered breathlessly. 

“Our bedroom,” he—Timothée; just for now, he could be Timothée again—said into her neck. “I want to lay you down on the bed, on our bed, and kiss you until I can’t breathe. I want to make love to you until the sun comes up.”

Her fingers tightened in his hair. “You want to what?”

“I want every part of you,” he insisted, trailing kisses down to her collarbones. “I want to feel your skin against mine. I want you to belong to me. I want us to belong to each other.”

“Timothée, I—“ She was cut off by his lips on hers again, kissing her desperately. “I do belong to you,” she panted into his mouth, and he responded by groaning into hers. “I will always belong to you.”

“Can I touch you?” he demanded abruptly.

“Where?” Lea breathed, butterflies filling her stomach.

He looked at her breasts pointedly.

“If— if you want,” she stuttered, feeling terribly anxious. “And, um.” She gulped. “You can touch my, uh… my butt, too. If you want.”

“Do I ever,” he grunted, reaching down with one hand to grab a fistful of her ass, squeezing the flesh roughly through her purple plaid skirt, his other hand grasping her breast and kneading it. 

Lea drew a sharp intake of breath, gasping, “Timothée—“

He resumed mouthing at her neck at that, his kisses wet and hungry. “Been thinking about touching you like this for so fuckin’ long, baby. The way this ass moves when you walk, these tiny fucking skirts that damn near show me your asscheeks when they swish up behind you.” He took the skin of her neck between his teeth and nibbled gently. “And this,“—he emphasized the word with a squeeze of her breast—“that doesn’t even fit in my fucking hand it’s so big, fuck—“

Lea kissed him then, yearning for more of his touch. She turned further towards him, her hand accidentally brushing against his crotch as she did so. “S— sorry,” she gasped in surprise, beginning to pull her hand away. She wanted to touch him there, if she were honest with herself, but she didn’t want to overstep or anything.

Tim grabbed her wrist then, guiding her hand back so it was hovering just over where it had been. She wasn’t quite touching him, but almost. He held her hand there. 

“It’s alright if you don’t want to,” he murmured against her lips, “but I want you to feel what you do to me. The effect you have on me. If you want to touch me there, I would love that.”

With that, he released her wrist, and she slowly, ever so slowly, lowered her hand to brush her fingertips over the fabric of his sweatpants, and—

And he was hard. Very much so. He inhaled sharply at her touch before kissing her hungrily. “Feel me, sweetheart,” he groaned, twitching beneath her fingers and resuming kneading her breast. “Feel what you do to me.”

“I did that?” she asked disbelievingly.

“Damn right you did,” Tim growled in her ear, mouthing at her neck. “That unseasonably warm day last month where you went swimming, and I saw you in that polka dot bikini with water dripping between these,” he continued, squeezing her breast for emphasis. “Do you have any idea how badly I wanted you then? God, I wanted to…” he trailed off, clenching his jaw and kissing her neck again.

“Wanted to what?” she breathed, continuing to hesitantly touch him through the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Wanted to bend you over the side of the hot tub and show you what wearing things like that does to your boyfriend who already can’t get enough of you.”

“Boyfriend,” Lea exhaled in a blissful daze, full on cupping his erection now. “My boyfriend. My Timothée.”

“That’s right, angel,” he encouraged, continuing to kiss her neck. “I’m yours, and you’re mine. All mine.”

They made out for awhile longer before he insisted they stop before he lost control of himself entirely, deciding to take her home.

The entire drive, he held her hand on the center console, leaning over to kiss her at every red light. 

Their time together was ending, she knew, and she knew she’d never have this with him again. The thought made her tighten her fingers around his hand, and he glanced over at her, a sad smile gracing his too-perfect lips.

Finally, they were in the parking garage of her apartment building, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go of his hand.

She was nearly crying when Tim looked over at her, his expression immediately becoming one of concern. “Oh, my angel,” he murmured, reaching over to unbuckle her seatbelt the way he’d done with his own, pulling her up and over into his lap. She nestled herself against his chest, breathing him in one last time as he wrapped his arms around her.

“I don’t want this to end,” Lea confessed tearfully.

“I know you don’t, sweetheart,” he said with a kiss to her hair. “I don’t, either.”

“I hate that it has to.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Tim reminded her, his voice gentle. Soft. “You can have this all the time if that’s what you want.”

“Of course I want that,” she insisted, “but…”

“But you can’t,” he finished for her. “So you’ve said.” She nodded into his shirt, and he sighed. “Kiss me again, then.” Lea looked up at him in surprise, so he explained, “You’re my girlfriend until you leave the car. I want to kiss my girlfriend.”

Smiling shakily and wiping the tears from her eyes, she tilted her head up and pressed her lips to his.

Before she knew it, she was straddling his lap as they kissed desperately. He palmed her breasts, squeezed her ass, kissed her neck. Her hands were in his hair and his tongue was in her mouth when she shifted slightly in his lap, her core brushing against his, right over her clit, and she pressed against him harder on instinct alone.

“Fuck,” Tim grunted out. “D’you want me to show you how to—“ he cut himself off, choosing to reach down and grasp her ass through her skirt. “If you wanna do that again, roll your hips forward,” he encouraged.

She did so, moaning at the sensation. “God, Timothée,” she whimpered, repeating the motion with her hips, stimulating her clit further.

“Feel good?” he asked darkly.

“Mhm,” she exhaled with an emphatic nod, watching his eyes. “Feels so good, fuck—“

“God, you’re wet,” he grunted, listening to the soft squelching sounds that were filling the front seat. “Wanna feel you, touch you, kiss all over this delicious little body, worship you the way you deserve.”

She shook her head. “I worship you,” she corrected. “You look like some kind of— some kind of god or something, fuck—“

He laughed softly. “Definitely not that. Just a guy wanting to hold the woman he wants to be with.”

“I wanna be with you, too,” she insisted, rocking her hips faster. Was… was she going to cum from this? It sure felt like she was going to.

Her breath was coming in short little pants, and he must’ve noticed, because he squeezed her ass firmly. “You’re about to, aren’t you?” he murmured in awe. “Just from this?”

“It feels so good,” Lea whined. He was right where she needed him, his clothed length rubbing against her soaked panties, stimulating her throbbing clit.

“There you go,” he encouraged gently. “God, you’re so beautiful like this. Feel me, Lea.”

“I do,” she insisted. “You’re so hard, it feels so good—“

He cupped her cheek, pulling her down to kiss him. “Every inch is for you, babydoll. I’m aching for you, needing to be inside you, to fill you up.”

She gasped, tilting her head back as he showered her breasts with kisses, pulling the hemline of her shirt down just a bit so as to access more of her skin. “I— I’m going to—“

“There you go,” he encouraged. “Cum for me, sweetheart. C’mon.”

“Timothée,” she moaned, her fingers clutching his hair as she came.

He pulled her in close then, wrapping his arms around her, humming with delight when she buried her face in his neck, panting softly.

He stroked her back, kissing her hair every once in awhile.

“Do… do you want to…?”

“Don’t worry about me, angel,” Tim assured her gently. “I just wanna hold you like this for as long as you’ll let me.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck then, inhaling his scent deeply. He had made her feel better than she’d ever felt in life, and he hasn’t even needed to touch her properly to do it.

She sniffled a few times, and after the third instance, he finally decided to speak up. “Lea,” he began.

“Mmm?”

“I don’t think I can be very respectful of your wishes to not pursue anything with you,” Tim confessed. “I’m sorry. I want you too much. You feel too good, too perfect in my arms. I won’t pressure you, but, well. I can be patient.”

She was silent for a moment, considering. “If I tell you something,” she began, “do you promise not to laugh at me?”

“Of course, baby.” He kissed her scalp again.

“I never intended to have any sort of romantic relationship. Not ever.”

“Like ever ever?” Tim clarified.

Lea nodded against his neck.

“Why not?”

“You remember what I said about my dad?”

“He was a dick, yes,” Tim recalled.

“Falling in love makes you vulnerable. That’s what happened to my mom.” She took a deep breath. “I never intended to have these feelings for anyone, and I especially never intended to act on them.”

“Everyone’s afraid of being hurt, Lea,” he told her gently, kindly, rubbing her back all the while. “That doesn’t mean you should deny yourself something that could make you happy.”

She shrugged. “Seems like a wasted risk to me.”

“This, what we could have, it could never be wasted,” he insisted fervently. “If— if that’s why you’re saying no, I can show you we’re worth the risk, that I won’t hurt you, I—“

“That’s not why,” she told him softly, her lips brushing against his neck as she spoke. “If that was why, I wouldn’t be sitting in your lap right now.”

Tim’s arms tightened around her. “What you said before?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he sighed. “Just let me hold you, then?”

Lea clenched her hands in his shirt. “I never want you to stop holding me.”

“I know.” He kissed her hair again.

He did stop, though. Eventually, he had to. And when he did, just before she got out of the car with tears in her eyes, he grabbed her hand, pulling her back to him.

“I need to kiss you again,” he said urgently.

Lea smiled shakily up at him, almost wishing he didn’t feel as strongly about her as he seemed to, because that made it so much harder. Still, though, she leaned forward and kissed him.

She reminded herself that this kiss was their last, that they would never—could never—have another. It was slow and intense, his fingers in her hair and her hands on his shoulders as their lips moved over one another. They kissed for several minutes, and she wondered if he couldn’t bring himself to pull away, either.

When he spoke, it was against her mouth, his breath meeting hers with every syllable. “I’m not giving up on you. I’m having this. I’m not giving up.”

“You should,” she exhaled. “For everyone’s sake, you should.”

“No,” Tim murmured, “what I should do is not suppress how I feel. I’m not one to disregard what I want, and I want you.”

“You’ll always have me, in a way,” she admitted.

“I want you more than just metaphorically,” he insisted. “I… I want a future with you.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I expect we’ll be friends for awhile yet.”

“Friends,” he began slowly, “do not do this.” With that, he kissed her again, this time so hungrily, so desperately, that she whimpered into his mouth. “Friends don’t make each other feel the way you make me feel.”

“You’ll get over it,” Lea insisted, even as she arched into his kiss.

“If I don’t, what then? If I still ache for you this way years from now, will you agree then?”

“I shouldn’t.”

“I’ll convince you eventually,” he decided. “I can be very persuasive.”

Lea wished his confidence weren’t so attractive. It was, though. It very much was.

“However,” he added, “if you aren’t ready for us yet, that’s okay. I can wait.”

“Timothée…” she sighed. “You shouldn’t… you shouldn’t.”

“I love it when you call me that,” he breathed, kissing her again. “I love hearing you say my name.”

“I’m not going to do it again,” she reminded him.

“I know. That’s why I’m cherishing it.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb, his eyes flitting between hers. “Will you say it again for me, angel?”

Lea took a slow, shaky breath, then pressed her lips to his again. “Timothée,” she exhaled against his mouth.

They kissed for awhile longer. She was crying again by the time she finally pulled away from him. He stroked her cheek, smiling sadly at her.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised as she opened the car door.

Lea took a shuddering breath. “Goodbye, Timothée.”

With that, she got out of the car, walked away, and tried very hard not to look back. 

She did, though.

He watched her as she stood in the doorway, looking over her shoulder at his car, and then…

Then she turned back around and went upstairs, and that was that.

I forgot to post this yesterday my baaaaaaad

Tag list: @ellamaianderson @shika1200 @blackqueenstarseed1 @gatoenlaciudad @esmaada @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @softhecreator @timolaurence @timmymyluv @oddlyenoughiamweird @leecrunchybones @s-we-e-t-t-ea @almostg @vampire-reanimator @leespparker @bubblebuttwade @glizzymcguirex @starberry-cake

To be added, please ask 💗