#this fic literally took on a life of its own and i'm not sorry

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

A Night of Firsts

In which you, dear reader, are the object of a certain druid's desires and agree to meet him for a night of passion...it also happens to be your first time. NSFW

You’re so nervous as you walk through the woods.

What if he hates what he sees? What if I’m awful? What if—

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sight of the man who had asked you to meet him---the tall druid with the kind heart. Leaning against a tree, you noticed the very large muscles in his arms seemed tense. Is he nervous? Surely not? He’s older than you’ll ever be, and surely…

“Forgive me.” He offered a rueful smile as he turned to face you. “I was afraid you wouldn’t show.”

You were taken aback by his words. Didn’t think I’d show up? For him? “I-I wouldn’t dream of it.” You tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, trying desperately not to appear just as nervous as he is. “Sorry to have kept you waiting, Halsin.”

He holds up his hand and smiles ruefully. “Oh! I didn’t mean to imply you’re late. Tis a beautiful night.” Chuckling, he looks apologetic. “Forgive me once more, my dear. It’s been some time since I’ve been with a lover.”

Before you have time to think, to consider what words you would say next, they tumble out of you. “Well, I’ve never even had one!”

Oh shit.

Oh fuck.

OH GODS!

Why did I say that?!

Halsin, thankfully unaware that you wish the earth so he loves would swallow you whole, stares at you with his mouth agape. “You…truly? It’s not that it’s a bad thing, mind you. I’m simply surprised. Surely there are those in the city who have…” He chuckles again, and you cannot help but notice how seemingly boyish he looks in that moment. “No. Maybe it’s your choice, and it’s—”

“Not by choice.” You say quietly, looking down at the ground. You remember all the times your affections were rejected---both gently and not---and your heart breaks a little. Sometimes it was as pleasant as it could be. Sometimes it was awful. Other times, though, you were told that no one would ever love a woman of your size. “No one chooses to fuck a fatty” was what the last one said to me. You did not realize you were crying until a rough, calloused thumb touched your cheek.

“My heart, let me dry your tears.” He gently wiped away the tears with one hand, while the other rested on your waist. “You are loved…and desired. Very much so.” As your eyes met his, you felt reassured by his warm smile. “I will be gentle of course. I want this to be—”

You cannot help yourself. “Just as nature intended?” You grin, your nose wrinkling just a little.

He barks a laugh. “I was going to say, ‘wonderful for you’ but sure, my heart, that works too.” His other hand fell to the other side of your waist, and he squeezed gently. “So beautiful. I am honored to be your first, dear one.” His large hands traveled up and down your sides, only the thin fabric of your nightshirt between his touch and your skin. “You’re so soft and inviting…” He stepped back and within a moment his clothes were off.

Oh.

OH.

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

You could not help but wet your lips upon seeing him.

He is so big. Everything about him is big. His heart. His kindness. His gentleness.

HIS HUGE COCK.

“Cat got your tongue, my heart?” Halsin teased, stepping back towards you, his massive hands on your shoulders.

“More like a bear, love.” You hesitate for a moment, trying to gather the courage to remove your own clothes. What if he—

He placed a gentle kiss on your head. “Take your time. We’ve no rush.”

Oh, you sweet, wonderful bear elf man. You hesitate for a second before speaking. “I-it’s not that. I’m just being silly…”

Enveloping you in his arms, he shook his head. “Whatever it is, it’s not silly or else you wouldn’t be so bothered, my heart. What troubles you?”

What’s been troubling me since I was a little girl. What troubles me every time I express interest in someone and get rejected. What troubles me when I feel the stares every time I eat. You close your eyes, screwing them shut. “I want this…want you more than anything…I-I’m sorry about how I look.”

“Why be sorry when you have nothing to be sorry for?” He buried his head in your hair, breathing in your scent. “You are the loveliest of nature’s creations.” His large hands roamed over your thin nightshirt. “And you feel…” Halsin moaned. “Incredible.”

With how close the two of you were, you could feel his enormous muscles and how hard he was. If he truly believes that I’m beautiful, then I should trust him. Believe him. Let him love me because gods do I want him. “So do you, Halsin.” You whisper, tentatively running your hands up his chest. Karlach said to be bold and brave in love, so I shall! Getting on the tips of your toes, you lean up to kiss him and wrap your arms around his neck.

As his lips meet yours, he grunts and lifts you off the ground slightly in a massive bear-like hug. OH MY GODS!!?!?! Though it ends as quickly as it began, you feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest not out of nerves but because you never thought that would ever happen. “Gods,” you breathe, your generous bosom rising and falling rapidly. “I—”

He smirked a little, still holding you. “I take it you liked that then?”

If anyone doesn’t like that, then they should have their head examined. You chuckle, step back, and begin to pull off your nightshirt. Halsin licks his lips in anticipation, watching your every move. While you still feel self-conscious, Halsin’s presence does calm you slightly. The cool night air sends a shiver up your spine, your nipples hardening due not only to the temperature but also your arousal.

Just as you are about to pull down your trousers, Halsin shakes his head. “Please, my heart. Allow me.” His voice is soft as he pushes your hands off the waistband. He hooks his very large fingers inside and ever so slowly pulls them and your smalls down. “Oak Father preserve me, such beauty!” You gasp as he gets on his knees, pulling your trousers and smalls past your big fat butt. He stops for a moment, his extremely large hands cupping your behind. “Nature made you so supple, so soft, my heart.” Spending a few moments rubbing your ass, he places several kisses along your lower belly.

Gods, I’m burning up. He hasn’t done anything yet, and I’m already a quivering mess. You glance down at him and notice his hazel eyes glowing gold. “Love?”

He continues his ministrations, small growls escaping him. “The bear grows more wild every second. All because of you.” Halsin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “But I will not go into wildshape tonight. Not for your first time. There will be other nights…other nights when,” he groaned, burying his face in the curls at the apex of your thighs. “I can put a ‘cub’ or two in you.”

You blink. You did not think it was possible for you to be even more turned on, but somehow the druid managed it. You manage to get a squeak out as you unconsciously rub your thick thighs together.

Halsin chuckles. “Does that excite you, my heart? Your scent tells me yes. Your movements tell me yes.” His hands gripped her thighs as he pressed kisses to them. “But do you say?”

Taking yet another page from Karlach, you lean down and tilt his face up, “Fuck yeah.” DEFINITELY INTERESTED IN THAT. “Should I, erm…my pants…?”

He nods quickly. “Forgive me, of course. Let me,” he pulls your trousers all the way down, admiring you. You step out of them (finally) and are completely bare to him. And he likes this. Likes me. I can’t even believe it, but it’s true. You cannot help but blush, your arms crossing your ample chest. “You truly are nature’s most beautiful creation, my heart.” He clears his throat, still looking at you at a goddess. “Let’s lie down.”

When he’s in wildshape, then I’ll get my ass cacked in dirt and mud. Tonight however, it’s a bed. You smirk as you snap your fingers, and within moments, a king-size bed, surrounded by candles and lanterns, appears in the forest. I’m a sorceress. This is child’s play.

Halsin begins to laugh and then pulls you into a hug. “Don’t fancy a romp on nature’s floor tonight, my love? Though I must say, this is quite romantic.” Kissing your head, he sighs happily. “Here’s hoping I can live up to it by giving you everything you deserve and more.”

You kiss his chest before sitting at the edge of the bed, slowly pushing yourself backwards up to a pile of fluffy pillows. “No matter what it will be, love.”

“That you have such confidence in me is reassuring.” He teases, grabbing his rock-hard cock and squeezing the tip slightly. “But before we begin, you need to know that all this,” he moaned as he ran his hand up and down his swollen length. “is because of you. You’re beautiful inside and out. So, so beautiful…” He murmurs and begins to crawl up to you. “When I look at you, I see a goddess of abundance---in kindness, heart, courage,” he pushes your thick thighs apart and stares hungrily at your throbbing cunt. He grips your thick, soft thighs, kneading them. “Softness…such sweet softness, my heart.” He looks at you expectantly.

You can only nod in return. You are seemingly unable to find your voice as he grins and then starts to utterly devour you. Without thinking, you begin to tug his hair. “Oh gods, I’m so—” You say quickly and loosening your grip.

“Pull if you wish, my heart. I don’t mind.” He chuckles, his hazel eyes full of mirth. He then returns to licking and sucking you, moaning loudly all the while. As for you, you cannot stop tugging on his long hair, the feel of his braids on your fingers somehow sexier than seeing them. Gods, Halsin… His hands squeeze your hips to prevent you from moving too much, and you not so secretly want him to hold your hips more often. It’s hot. Him touching me likes this makes me feel so sexy. So desirable. Never felt like this before.

“Hal-Halsin, fucking hells…” You manage to get out as one of your hands starts to knead one of your breasts. Want more. Want him all over me. In me. Any way I can have him.

He lifts his head slightly, the amused look still in his eyes. “That’s it. Good girl. Keep touching yourself. There’s a good girl.” As he dives back into your cunt, one of the hands on your hip travels to your lower belly.

The coil inside you seems to get tighter and tighter as his tongue laps at you, as he touches you, and as you touch yourself. And all too soon for you, the coil snaps and you thrust upwards into Halsin. You feel as if you black out for a moment or two, and when you come to, Halsin has the remnants of some of your spend on his lips.

“You taste sweeter than honey, dear one. I cannot wait to find out how you feel around me.” He leans over you, and you suddenly feel so small and I’m not small! Though no matter how imposing his size is, his expression is gentle. “I’m going to use a finger or two first, my heart. As you can see, I’m quite…large. I don’t want you to be in any pain. However,” he offered a toothy grin. “I think you’re wet enough for me.”

As one of his fingers enters you, you determine quite quickly that you are not prepared for even how large the finger is. You squirm and gasp, feeling so deliciously full from just one of his fingers. “Love, please…need more…”

“You’re sure you’re in any pain, my heart?” He asks, his nose nuzzling yours.

“No, just want more of you. Please.”

His lips gently kiss yours, a second finger now entering you. You moan wantonly as his inhumanly large and very sexy fingers stretch you. “Do you think you’re ready for me?”

FUCK YES! “Gods yes, please.” You beg, panting as he removes his fingers.

Within seconds, you can feel the blunt tip of his engorged member at your entrance. “I will go slow, my heart, and be gentle.” He seems like he’s more telling himself that than me. Oh Halsin, I trust you. Slowly, he moves inch by inch.

I believe Astarion would call this “exquisite torture.” It feels like he’s tearing me apart while I want more. More. More of him. Gods, please. You babble incoherently, ranging from praise to sweet nothings.

Loud grunts and honeyed words fall from Halsin’s lips as he finally is fully hilted inside you. You both moan at the same time, and you nod at him to continue.

He thrusts gently the first few times, but then he picks up the pace. His pelvis collides with yours, faster and faster.

“My love, come again for me. I know you can do it. I know you can.” He pants, his hazel eyes gazing into yours. “Be a good girl and come for me. Just one more time. You can do it.”

That is all you need as you scream your second release, and your vision turns white. You are vaguely aware of Halsin burying his head into your shoulder, his nails digging into your wide, soft hips. He comes yelling your name. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, his seed spilling in you. When he is finished, Halsin wraps his arms around you and rolls you both on your sides. One arm is snugly around your thick waist, while the other is caressing your cheek.

“Well, that was,” you smile softly. “amazing. Will it be like that every time, love?”

He chuckles. “If that is your desire, then yes. We still have so much to explore together, my heart. In fact,” his eyes turn golden as he grins. “should you desire it, more of myself would like to—”

Halsin does not finish the sentence.

You are already kissing him passionately.

It’s bear time.

And yes, I do desire it.

[hoseoksluna]

STEAM | myg ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)

genre: smut

word count: 9.2k

summary: one video call awakens your neediness for two cocks.

playlist: steam / pinterest board: steam

warnings: female masturbation, mentions of shower sex, praise kink, toying with the idea of polyamory, a hint of voyeurism, oc rly goes through it and faces mental battles, fear, intoxication, punishment, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, choking, cum eating, manhandling, degradation, provocation, mutual masturbation, rough & raw sex, brief oral sex (f. receiving), pet names

note: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE SKFDSFLSFJ, okay so—let me introduce to you a new yoongi series featuring JUNGKOOK oh my god. i am SO EXCITED about this and i wanna apologize for my insane ideas in advance... i'm so sorry, guys. nevertheless, i hope you like this as much as i do, i literally went mad writing this and i smoked so many cigarettes i lost count. please, let me kNOW UR FAVORITE PARTS CUZ I HAVE SO MANY AND I WANNA TALK ABOUT THEM. oh fuck, guys. ENJOY READING SDKFJSD. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

side note: btw, the playlist i made is literally perfect and depicts the fic wonderfully. you can listen while you read! <3

The scent of mangoes finds its way up your nostrils, heating your senses through its balmy touch as you rub the body butter over the damp skin of your arms. Fingers graze along your décolletage, tucking in the fragrance for your boyfriend to breathe in when he comes home. He’s out for the night—said something about his friend finishing his military service, so the whole group was going out to celebrate it. Yoongi was so frantic in his excitement, hastily putting on the first outfit that sparked his eye. Didn’t even touch his hair, only sprayed a mist of his sandalwood and tangerine-tinged perfume. Grabbed his phone, keys, wallet. Barely kissed you goodbye before he fled out of the door.

He didn’t even ask you if you wanted to come along.

You didn’t mind, though—you’re only in the early stages of your relationship. It hasn’t even been half a year since you’ve started dating. And you figure he deserves a night out with his closest friends because you’ve been attached to the hip since the beginning. Funnily enough, you no longer live at your own place. Somehow, you’ve settled in Yoongi’s apartment, never setting foot outside, save for your walks, grocery shopping, the few dates with your friends and work. There wasn’t any conversation about it; you just mostly spend your free time with your boyfriend.

And all you do is fuck, eat and watch movies.

The last time Yoongi took you out was during the first two months you’d been getting to know him. The realization of how long it’s been sends a trail of chills down your arms and you rub it away.

But because you’ve been spending all your time together, you’re glad to have a moment to yourself—glad to be able to take a long hot shower, to do your hair and skincare. Perhaps, you’ll even have time to do your nails and that energizes you, propels you to spread the body butter further down the rest of your body. It is your rose garden, these night times reserved for your hot showers. The place you go to—your hideaway from the pressure and nerves of life that the steam loosens and soothes, especially when you let your sultry playlist echo through the mightiness of Yoongi’s bathroom, your favorite singer’s voice reaching your veins like the growing stems of those roses; pretty, pink and so feminine. Yes, Yoongi’s therapy sessions and thick length might have been a great help, the best in fact, but there’s something about letting yourself be burned off of all that’s been weighing you down and watching it trickle down the drain that is just so satisfying.

It was all that you were once used to. That is, until you met Yoongi.

Showers with him are something else.

Something you never thought you could ever have the blessing to encounter. Showers with Yoongi are intense, so out of pocket that you find yourself thinking about them fondly whenever you’re alone with your thoughts. There, beneath the downpour of the warm water, he lets you see the other side of his ever unyielding stern façade. While holding you, he would make you laugh, then make you moan and break that sound with each hard plunge of his cock. Hair slicked back, smirk adorning that delicious wet mouth, causing him to look like a Mafioso bent on absolutely ruining you. He would tell you the most insane story he heard from his friend, then talk you through the build-up of your orgasm while continuing to the point of that story—seamlessly waving through, never losing tempo. “Then, he went up to his hyung to ask him about what he did—yes, just like that, honey, take it. I know you’re almost there, just listen.” You would come all over his cock, sprinkling him with your essence, right there at the end of his story and like a hungry man, he’d get on his knees and eat you up, muttering how good you are and how well you did along with each swipe of his tongue. Your lungs would heave due to the overstimulation, your legs would tremble, unable to stand and he’d gather you into his arms, fold you like paper into the crooks of his body and let his thick duvet drape over you. He’d fall asleep first, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, snoring softly behind you while spooning you, never letting go of his deathly grip around you. And while you would breathe in the haze of lilac sprayed on his pillows, you’d become aware of the drowsy rhythm of his heartbeat, the lift and fall of his chest against your back, the snug heat of his body and it would lull you to sleep.

That has become your new version of hot long showers.

And if it isn’t this, then it’s Yoongi letting you quickly wash yourself before he’d steal you away, dragging you into this bed, only to carry you back there an hour later.

You speculate he has a serious, adorable case of attachment issues.

That is why you enjoy your exceptional alone shower all the more—you haven’t had it in so long. Only this time, it’s quite different.

You feel him everywhere.

You feel him in the drift of your hand down your tummy because you recollect the way he likes to pepper kisses there on his way to eat you out. You feel him when you round your palms across your backside because you know he particularly likes to leave traces of saliva when he presses open-mouthed kisses there. His love for you circulates in your bloodstream, mingling with the little love you have for yourself, making it bigger, turning it into a turbulent rush of liquid. You sense it tapping beneath your skin, asking for more of your body just like Yoongi does, always begging, begging for more—for more skin to kiss and lick, for more sensitive parts of you to find and nibble on.

Your hands sense the ghost of him even when your fingers slip past your mound and realize that the film of your memories dampened your cunt. You hear the words of praise he’d utter into your ear at the discovery and you sigh at your tender touch. 

That’s a good girl. Messy for me. 

The rotund case of your body butter remains opened, forgotten. You suddenly have better things to do—like give your body the self-care, the self-love it deserves.

It’s a part of the solo girl's night.

A mewl comes out of your mouth at the first round of circles on your clit. Furrowing your brows at the pleasure, you prop your free hand on the edge of the bathroom counter, riding the pads of your fingers. And then, just like Yoongi taught you, you take your digits away, edging yourself, taking them elsewhere. You cry out at the contact of your wet fingertips on your stiff nipple and you pinch the nub, a spasm of delight coursing through your sensitiveness.

You imagine Yoongi standing behind you. Not touching you, merely guiding you, telling you when to stop, when to pick up the pace—when to fill your hole. Watching you in the mirror, hands in his pockets, having a perfect view of your slick-caked folds, of your clit swollen and asking for his tongue. Determined to make you lose your mind by teasing you, letting you only slap your pussy once you’re close. Your essence drips out of you at that thought, making a mess on the floor and you plug it in with your finger, fucking yourself steadily, inflamed by how slippery your heat is, how easy it is to slip the digit inside. Hot flashes close over your body, pearls of perspiration kissing the crook of your neck. You fuck yourself faster and—

A sudden ring of your phone jolts you. And the picture of your boyfriend, half dressed, with the early morning sunlight leaking over the scars and tattoo on his shoulder, crammed inside your screen, greets you.

You pant hard, your finger still inside of you. Delirious.

He must be on his way home. You don’t even know what time it is. 

Leaning forward, you hide your breasts behind your forearm and you swipe your finger to accept his video call.

Blurry Yoongi. The night sky, starlit and alive, behind him. A shoal of silhouettes, some lanky and some buff, all short-haired and all as woozy-lidded as you. The picture smooths into a crystal clear view and there you see your boyfriend, the nocturnal breeze brushing his ebony hair back. Not just him, however, but another male craning his neck to regard you fully. 

His eyes flicking from your neck to the smallest of your exposed décolletage, a smirk blossoming on his face like your imaginary roses. 

Yoongi slaps his phone face down. You withdraw your finger from your heat, a cacophony of giggles, whiny cries and the exclamations of his name emitting out of your mouth. 

He is not, in fact, on his way home. 

It is a warning, his low and strict call of your name back and, heeding it, you take your phone into your hands, so he’s only able to see your deeply flushed face. Device back in his hand, he’s not looking at you at all. As a matter of fact, he’s shooting daggers fueled with deadly nightshade at his friend, grumbling something that you can’t quite make out amidst the chaos and bustle of the outing. The shoal of the rest of his friends and strangers disappear out of the perspective, as if threatened by the cold energy. 

You wish you knew what he’s saying to him. Even your pussy aches to hear it. The principle of him scolding his friend for looking at you at your most private moment scorches you and you’re red, flattered and majestically horny. 

Yoongi turns his head to see if you’re well-behaved and you beam at him, the pulse on your clit intensifying, forcing you to say, “come home, Yoongi.” 

He chuckles, aware of the reason behind your words, pretends he isn’t. “What were you doing, baby?” 

The growth of your grin doesn’t falter. You show him the sheen of your wet finger in the ivory bathroom light, the glint, the stickiness as you push your index finger to your middle and pull away, your arousal on full, filthy display. 

He curses under his breath. Doesn’t give a fuck that his friend sits beside him and adjusts in his seat. Bites his lip briefly. “Stick it in your mouth for me.” 

Doesn’t say the words that so very often follow after in that sentence. Taste yourself. 

Why he doesn’t step aside to take this video call eludes you, but something about you being watched by two pairs of eyes excites you. Enough for you to do as he says. Perhaps it’s due to the fact you don’t know the male sitting beside him and Yoongi is letting him keep his sight glued to the screen. 

Two sharp inhales of breath. Not one of yours. Yoongi readies his hook to feignedly lash out at his friend and you press your thighs together to alleviate yourself of the unbearable feeling between your legs. Confidence, a bad, bad version of confidence suffuses you whole, turning you into a person gone mad by lust. You swirl your tongue around your digit, the tanginess of your taste causing your eyes to narrow, the principle of driving not just one, but two men mad just the same intoxicates you, as if you were there among them, drinking. 

A pair of round eyes peek at the corner of the screen. Soft, naive, so terribly innocent. A dash of sobriety washes over you, owed to those brownish effervescent orbs, a sprinkle shame pooling low in your core. A reality check. You sense some kind of stability of that reality beneath those eyelashes of his, the stability that whispers—is this the right thing to do? 

It’s not rough, it’s not stern, it’s not Yoongi coded—it’s anything but. Gentleness is what you detect, free of any prejudice. 

You sigh. Millions of thoughts about how you could toy with them pass through your mind, but you decide against them, the stability a pillar that blends into your spine, helping it unbend. You can’t do this; you can’t do this to Yoongi and you need to keep your dignity intact in some way, despite the fact that every fiber of your body compels you to do the opposite. You distract yourself by screwing the lid of your body butter back on. 

“Good girl,” Yoongi coos, causing you to whisk your eyes to the screen in perhaps disbelief, shame or your still pending arousal—you’re not sure. How can you be a good girl when you let another man see something so lewd? How can your boyfriend validate something like that? “One more beer and I’ll be home. Wait for me on the bed. As you are.” 

Naked. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks, to the surface of every part of your skin, dragging away small ounces of shame. You curse, mentally, running a hand down your face. Yoongi downs his drink without taking his gaze off of you, watching your reaction, adds once he swallows, “and don’t touch yourself.” 

And with that, he hangs up. 

The harsh comprehension of what the fuck just happened envelops you in a confining embrace, the precipitately increasing weight of shame now a burden on your shoulders that you just can’t shake off, even when you slink your arms through sleeves of your silky robe and welcome in the summer breeze coming to caress your face on the balcony—even when you burst your lighter to a flame and light up your cigarette, inhaling the smoke that you hoped would rid you of its such uncomfortable hold around you. 

You licked your cum clean under the gape of a guy you don’t know in front of your boyfriend. 

His friend heard the order. Don’t touch yourself. Yoongi didn’t whisper it. Didn’t camouflage his words in any way. Uttered them straight and bare, allowing his friend to hear them, despite the fact he almost fought him then and there for sneaking one glance at your moderately naked form. 

Question marks hover in your mind and the pulse on your clit cries, seemingly knowing the answer. 

Did Yoongi like it as much as you did, the aspect of having an audience? 

The wetness in your heat dribbles out, staining your thighs. You squeeze them together, the drag of your cigarette hard and long, expecting to feel your nerves burn off. You gain no such thing—no relief, no lifting of the burden, just constricting tangles in your tummy, zippy spasms of butterflies going mad, mad, mad. 

Perhaps Yoongi didn’t like it at first until he perceived the auspicious debauched look on your face. Saw the way you didn’t hesitate to oblige him when he told you to stick your finger in your mouth. And perhaps the fact that you didn’t express any signal of discomfort was the key to unfastening the leash on his possessiveness over you. 

What have you done? What have you so selfishly and disgustingly done? 

You hang your head in your hands, the white smoke intertwining with the burden on your shoulders and pressing down harder on you. 

That’s why he let his friend hear the command. Don’t touch yourself. He saw the way you indulged in it, and that awakened his liking for it.

Yoongi lied when he said he’d have one more beer. 

By the time you hear the thunder of his voice, all the roses in your garden have wilted, leaving faded, withered petals in its wake—leaving a path of your internal battle all around the apartment for Yoongi to follow. You’ve paced, your bare feet stepping on them. Tried to untangle yourself from the incarceration of your mind by chain-smoking, but to no avail. The only change that took place in your body was the decline of your shame, for you couldn’t help but imagine what could have happened, had you let free rein to your desire—had those round eyes never looked at you with such purity. You figured there wasn’t anything bad about letting your imagination be colored like that, and so you sat on your boyfriend’s couch, cigarette switched to a coconut-flavored vape, and dreamed.

You dreamed about those two men being of service to you, right here on the same couch, where they would lay you down and make you squirt over and over again, betting between each other who could make you come the fastest, counting down your orgasms until the number was a mere blur to you. 

The throb on your clit heightened to heavenly levels and when you emerged from your dream, you found yourself being able to breathe—your momentary disappearance tricking your shame into leaving. It was difficult for you not to touch yourself and you opted to adhere to Yoongi’s wish, not risking to feel worse than you already had. 

The war ended, undeterred by the fact you never expected it to. 

Loud swear words roar in Korean. You rise to your feet to open the front door for Yoongi and you discover that he’s not alone at all. 

The same pair of round eyes, the cause of all the ruckus you just departed from, meet yours, hauling you back there with a force. Your mouth falls agape and before you can react any further, Yoongi stumbles into you. You almost topple over, realizing you didn’t care to steal a glance at the state of him, but the male grabs a hold of Yoongi’s jacket and pulls him back. You wish you had tumbled over and the floor had opened up and swallowed you whole. It would have been less embarrassing than to be stuck in this situation. You want to run, you want to scream— 

“He’s drunk out of his own mind,” the male says, his voice deep like the warm wind before a tumultuous storm, fitting just right with the thunder of Yoongi’s intonation, his gaze wandering over the entirety of your shock-stricken face, taking it in; giving you the same attention that fucked you up hours ago. Yoongi begins to mumble something you can’t momentarily focus on, his hands grasping your waist, lips latching onto your neck. No, you cannot for the life of you focus because the man steals you all over again and you hate how easy it is for him to do that, when you’re far from being available. “Don’t ask what made him drink this much.”

Did Yoongi get drunk because he let his friend in on your most intimate moment? 

Humiliated, turned on and angry altogether, a concoction that simply worsens everything, you draw back from your boyfriend. You want to beat at his chest with your fists just to have some sort of relief from blaming him—because if you blame yourself, only doom consumes you. Why did he call you? Or, essentially, why didn’t he step away to take that damned video call? 

“Thanks for walking him home,” you say eventually, your voice smooth, despite the violence of your feelings, despite wanting to say something else entirely. Your first words to him and, wholeheartedly—despite it all, you hope they aren’t last, even if that possibly makes you a despicable person. 

Yoongi’s friend nods. Chews his bottom lip and lowers his gaze to the ground for a split second. You wonder if he feels the need to remove himself from this uncomfortable situation as much as you do because you can’t read anything in that paleness of his countenance. Not a hint of any emotion whatsoever, just blandness of expression, slightly dimmed by the few thick strands of black hair that have fallen from his disheveled, pushed back mullet. As if they did fight after all, perhaps on the way home, or wrestled if Yoongi was being difficult. 

You don’t realize you and the male are just staring at each other until Yoongi places his hand on your cheek, brushing back a wisp of your tresses. Only then do your eyes flick to Yoongi’s and you finally notice him, the gloss in his hooded irises searching and searching for you, the rosy blush on his cheeks, dry parted mouth and the dart of his tongue as he wets it, softening the flecks that have been created there. 

This is it. If you are focused on him, all things are made right—all things that have been stained get purified and dreams get turned into dust. This is the man you’ve fallen for, who puts you before himself and has done so every day since the moment he made you his. You can’t let anyone else get in the way of the home that your relationship has become, you can’t let your feelings flee—

“For the record,” Yoongi’s friend starts, hand massaging circles on the nape of his neck, the leather of his jacket tight around his arm. Your heart jumps and beats against your chest ferociously. “I didn’t see anything, if that helps you sleep better tonight.” 

It’s such a fat lie and you’re about to shake your head, but then he looks at you with such sincere regret that, ultimately, you choose to believe him. Just to keep your peace of mind unscarred. 

Yoongi tightens his hold around your waist, which grounds you, and a small part of you begins to bloom in healing, disseminating little by little across your whole body. 

A healer with big, round eyes. A good man. 

With a swing, Yoongi closes the door but you don’t hear the click. No, the light spills in from the hallway. Your hands reach for the doorknob but Yoongi blocks them and wraps them around his waist while swaying on his feet. He traces the shell of your ear with his lips, his alcohol-reeking breath wafting over you, and softly, you whine his name. Shuffling beyond the door, feet never entirely moving—the male is still standing outside and he hears as Yoongi hums at your call, as the sound grows into a groan at the feeling of being alone with you at last, at the feeling of all that makes you feminine under his hands. He hears your gasp as Yoongi pushes your chest flush to his body, kisses you harshly and cups your bare pussy. Hears the smack of your mouths, the pop once he withdraws, the squelch of your wetness. Hears as Yoongi murmurs, “you been horny, baby? Wet for me, hm?”

It’s those words that make him shut the door for you.

You made Yoongi drink a lot of water. 

And while he downed the glasses, you ordered him Thai food from his phone, which he now devours. You had wanted to change out of your flimsy robe into your plush pajamas, but Yoongi stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder and with the nastiest puppy eyes he could manage, considering his plastered state, he begged you not to. Informed you that he wanted to fuck you in your little robe and you told him that if he wanted that, he needed to get sober. 

He’s your boyfriend and you trust him, but you don’t feel comfortable having sex with him while he’s wasted and you’re not. It’s a dangerous territory you don’t ever want to cross. 

So, now he eats as quietly as a mouse, feeding you every other bite with his chopsticks, meanwhile you’re jittering your leg with your arms crossed across your chest, mind full of the male who walked him home. Of the way he pulled you under and resurfaced with you soon after. Of the calm peace you feel all over the perimeter of your mind that peculiarly stresses you out. Of what would happen if you voiced your little dream to Yoongi, especially. 

Was it out of the question or would he consider it? 

Your leg jitters harder. 

You want to tell him, badly. Seeing his friend in real life changed fucking everything. If you hadn’t, you would’ve forgotten about it in the days to come. Yoongi would’ve fucked it out of you in most probability. But those eyes… those eyes got under your skin. 

“Stop fidgeting,” Yoongi scolds with his mouth full of food, no hint of slurring. The hot meal and hydration worked a miracle. “You’re making me nervous.” 

He picks up two cut pieces of chicken with his chopsticks and stuffs your mouth, adding a few pieces of vegetables as you’re chewing. Watches you swallow it, noticing how your eyes are focused on nothing in particular on the other side of the room. Tucking his utensils under his palm, he places his hand on your thigh, halting your restless motion. 

You still won’t look at him. Too lost in the overthinking maze, debating whether you should speak or remain quiet about your desire. A strong part of you fears his reaction and the other half is horrified at the possibility of being turned down—

Yoongi takes his hand away. Props it on his cheek. 

“I can see your pussy from here,” he says, licking his lips. “You’ve shaved?” 

You breathe a soft laugh, turning your head to face him, covering yourself with the small fabric. Dark, but tender eyes, void of any glossiness, awake and stirred—amused. Cheeks awash with color. Lips puffy, a dark tinge of red coating them. A sturdy fist on his cheek, the milky jawline underneath. That messy hair, the slicked-back look ruined by the constant rake of his fingers through them, now falling to the side from the middle. That slender body, clad in the night from head to toe—legs outstretched under the table. So fine, so delicious. A beautiful strong man—all yours. Why do you want another one? 

You slide your leg across his thighs and Yoongi slouches in his seat, discarding his chopsticks. 

“I shaved everything,” you respond, cocking your brow at him—a sly invitation for him to feel its smoothness. 

And he does. Runs his hand up and down your skin. Goes as far as lifting your other leg onto his lap, cradling them both, thumb caressing your calf. The movement causes your robe to expose you again and, cursing the fabric, you go to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. 

“Don’t bother,” he mutters. “I wanna look at it.” 

You raise your brows altogether, looking up at him. “You wanna look at her?” 

Yoongi smirks. That dangerous tug of one corner of his mouth to the side. Your death, your undoing, the root of your submission to him. “I want to have her at my disposal.”

You gulp and Yoongi catches it, chuckling. Drifts his hand down your calf, to your heel, to the middle of your foot up to your toes. He plays with your pinky. You note the fact he changed the pronoun after you did. 

Your arousal returns at full speed.

“Did that make you wet?” Low, low is his voice—you feel it prodding at your core, thrumming vehemently. 

You blossom like your roses, thoughts put to the side. 

“I’ve been wet this entire time,” you say, zeroing in your gaze on the flick of dimness that whirls past his eyes. “For hours.” 

He makes a sound of pitiful nature. “Poor baby.” Furrows his brows and juts his bottom lip out, making you weak. Lets his hand roam on your thigh. “So you listened? You didn’t touch yourself?” 

You merely nod your head quickly. You were too distressed to give your body the pleasure it sought. Too busy flaring your lungs with the burn of smoke. And you respected his wish enough to keep your hands to yourself. 

Yoongi coos. “Good girl.” 

A flashback—your lips wrapping around your slick-coated finger, Yoongi praising you and… another pair of eyes watching. Chills spread across your arms, your stomach flipping. Thankfully, your shame is kept at bay. It relieves you. 

“Can I feel how wet you are?” 

A sweet, devious smile. “If you can manage to get to her.” 

You press your thighs tightly together. Yoongi looks at you as if you’ve greatly offended him and alas, he turns your chair so you face him head-on. Forces your thighs apart without any strain at all—and there you feel it, the embarrassment of fucking with him, once your pussy is at complete disposal to him just like he wanted. 

“If your pussy wasn’t so pretty, I’d make you regret your words,” he purrs, eyes fixed on your drenched flesh, hands pushing your thighs back until your knees are at level with your shoulders, folds parting with the movement, revealing more of you. Yoongi wets his mouth with his tongue. 

He thumbs your gleaming lips back and forth, collecting your essence, mesmerized by them. Looks at you intently. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, though,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. “Would it?” 

You grin at him. “Sorry, Yoongi.” 

He rubs your swollen clit in slow circles, still with his bedewed thumb, still with his eyes on you. You choke out a moan at the delight permeating through your being. “That’s not the proper way to apologize, now is it?”

You lean your pelvis into his touch, a natural body reaction unfolding. He disapproves. You scrunch your face. “What should I say?” 

Yoongi tuts. “I’m barely touching you and you already forgot your manners?” 

The only answer you emit is an uncouth whine. 

He shakes his head, putting pressure into his circles for a mere beat of time before he slaps your pussy curtly. A vivid spasm of pleasure fills you and you moan. “Needy girl. Don’t I take care of this pussy enough? What’s this behavior?” 

Another whine. A roll of your body, asking for more of his touch. “Spank her again.” 

A cock of his brow. Harsh, stern, evil. His hand remains propped on his thigh, shoulders hunched. “I didn’t hear you say please. You wanna be bad? You want me to make you cry?” 

You know just how much he’s capable of doing that. You shake your head ‘no’. You want gentleness, the kind you saw in his friend’s eyes—

You flutter your own shut to get rid of that thought. Take a deep breath. 

“Spank my pussy again, please.” 

Yoongi massages the apex of your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt, squeezing the flesh every once in a while. 

“Apologize first.” 

“You didn’t tell me how.” 

He clicks his tongue and pinches your folds and your clit between his fingers. You cry out, and then Yoongi gets up to his feet, leaning over you, propping his hand on the back of your chair. He begins to swiftly spank your pussy over and over again. You just jump at every contact, moaning, eyes flicked to his, never breaking apart. Taking it, taking it so well that Yoongi kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Then, he grunts. Fingers flat against your clit, he moves them from side to side. Roses, a myriad of them, flood your form with their freshness and dewiness, with their beauty and delectation and you shudder, you scream, you arch your back off of the backrest—

“Say, ‘I’m sorry, Yoongi. I’m such a bad girl that I deserve every spank and I’ll take it until it hurts.” 

Flabbergasted and horny beyond measure, your mouth falls agape. Your brain turns into mush, the pleasure paralyzing you, your sounds now loud and obscene, the roses in you flitting, growing and murmuring. Yoongi adds more pressure to your clit and your eyes sink back into your head, his darkness wafting over to you, seeping into your skin—now completely yours. 

You repeat after him—word for word. With a simper on your face that causes him to scowl at you, as if you dared to toy with your punishment he bestowed upon you. But then, a tongue prods the inside of his cheek and he laughs, taking a hold of his dominant role and making sure you know. He spanks your clit twice in a row, hands lifting to fondle your nipples. 

“Good,” he praises. “You like that, don’t you? Spanks on your pussy?”

You don’t like that softness. Like the personified thunder he is, it is the calm before the storm. It unnerves you, the expectation of what might come next and your disliking of it. Nonetheless, you brim with the craving to have his fingers inside of you. Your hole clenches at that and Yoongi notices, hissing under his breath. The language of the darkness rises on your tongue and you figure that if you let loose, you’ll get your wish fulfilled.

“Yeah, it feels so good—” He pinches your nipples between his knuckles and you mewl, your lashes shaking at the impact, another set of wetness coating your folds. “Please, fuck me with your fi—”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence. Yoongi plunges his middle finger into your heat, cursing at your tightness, at how slippery you are and at the delight of being filled at last, you knit your brows. With his other finger, he traces the outline of your puckered mouth, his breathing hard and ragged. 

“I’ll do anything for that pout of yours, fuck, no matter if you deserve it or not,” he utters, slipping the digit inside. Instinctively, you suck on it and only then does Yoongi begin to pump you slowly. “You just need a little roughness to be good, don’t you?” 

Dumbly, you nod, swirling your tongue around him, but a faint, silenced part of you begs for the gentleness that you know hides somewhere deep inside his chest, never once unfurled during such intimate times. 

You pay it no matter, too fucked out to think. 

When he adds a second finger into your heat, he does the same thing with his other hand. Two fingers in your cunt, two fingers in your mouth. And he fucks you with both until you gag and a light flashes in his eyes—then, he withdraws all together, leaning against the table, his bedewed fingers coming to rest at his hardened length in his pants. 

Roses, opening. Roses, sighing. 

You breathe heavily, needing to finish, needing to have him in your mouth—

“You liked being the center of attention today?” he husks, surveying your whole body, bent in half. 

There it is—the storm. Just what you expected. Cold sweat dribbles down your spine. And it is fear, what you feel, even when you refuse to admit it. Stiff, tempered fear that pervades each and every vein on your body, regarding being possibly degraded, being made feel dirty—regarding, even, tasting the dark wine of his wrath. 

Such a stark, sudden change. 

You don’t want this. You don’t want any of it.

Abruptly, an internal question comes and pokes you in the middle of your forehead.

Will you succumb to it or will you, with the wildly fresh darkness within you, fight against it?

You take a deep breath, and in with the air also follows, with the little rationality you have amidst the sensuality of your lecherous appetite, the decision to take a hold of it all. To take charge. Just like he did.

You shall prioritize yourself. Your feelings, your desires—your roses.

Your choice envelops your fear in bubble wrap. It doesn’t dissipate. And as much as it pains you, you take a mental note of that. 

“I did,” you spit out, angered by the fact you’re afraid of your boyfriend, and so you stand your ground. “It made me so fucking needy and I want more.” 

The relief that hits you almost causes you to weep and you lower your legs to the ground. Not wanting him to see the film of tears clouding your eyes, you avoid his gaze. Yoongi crosses his arms across his chest and clicks his tongue at you, disapproving. 

“Keep your legs where they belong.” 

“No.”

A lift of his brow. He crouches down to your level and cradles your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. And there he sees, under the waterfall of your hair, your emotions at his disposal. Yoongi studies you, frowns at you and you want to sob, you want to go home. Shame slithers towards your spine like a ghost, and although it keeps a distance, you feel its presence prickling your back. You cover your cleavage. 

“Why are you crying?” Yoongi asks, a silky murmur, eyes flicking between yours. His fingers don’t caress your skin; they merely hold you firmly, making dents in the skin. 

You don’t trust that voice, dismayed by what might lie under. 

“Why did you do that to me?” you ask in return, and it’s a blue fire shooting out, engulfing the room in stifling heat. You catch a glimpse of its sparks in the dimness of his eyes, of how he’s momentarily stricken by it before it folds beneath the shadows.

“You want to get fucked by someone else?” 

A question for a question. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat, caused by your frustration. 

Your devotion to him didn’t let you go as far as to imagine being fucked by his friend while Yoongi watched, but the brief flash of it in your mind is enough incentive for the heat to spill into you, mingling with the darkness, turning you candescent, traveling through you until it finds your core—and there, it stays. There, it finds home. 

The pulse on your clit returns, filling you with abrupt energy. 

There’s something about him coming up with it that makes you unhinged, but you’re so utterly sick of the instability of your feelings. You need it to stop.

“And what if I do?” you retort. “What will you do?” 

Truthfulness, at last.

Yoongi takes in a sharp inhale of breath, and that is the only reaction you receive from him. Nothing else on his face flickers; no wrath, no sliver of jealousy, not one thing. You stare at an empty canvas, ready for you to paint on. And you simply decide that you want to start. 

You push his hand away from your face. Stand up to your feet. But the hardened look he gives you inclines you to sit back down. 

You fight against it. 

Untangling the knot on your robe, you let him see your bare femininity. The perkiness of your breasts, the long dip of your stomach that he likes to pepper kisses on. Yes, you’re aiming for his weakness. 

And you decide to repeat history. 

You reach your hand down, lower and lower while he stares you down, and you collect your glimmering essence. Sinking your finger into your mouth, you make a show of rolling your eyes back and moaning faintly, softly. Your other hand, in the meantime, unbuttons his pants. 

The breath Yoongi inhaled hitches in his throat. 

“Is this not evidence enough?” you purr, dragging down his zipper. “How else am I supposed to show you?” 

You pull his manhood out as you suck on your finger, all while maintaining eye contact. You don’t touch him beyond that. In fact, you withdraw your hand altogether. 

And then, you collect your essence again. 

This time, you smear it across his bottom lip. Yoongi lets you. Your heart thuds, threatening to jump out of your chest. 

“Your actions during the video call told me everything,” you whisper, catching the sliver of wooziness scattering along his narrowed eyes. “And I think you liked it more than me—the thought of sharing me. You can’t hide it. Not when I saw it.” 

Yoongi growls. Then, he surprises you. 

He parts his lips for you. 

And the contact of the pad of your finger with his wet tongue coaxes a string of your dewiness to drip down the side of your thigh. You moan for him. Relieved, fucked up, woozy just the same. Finally, finally, finally. 

You’re in charge. And it feels divine. 

His length twitches against the fabric of his T-shirt. Long, hard, drooling. Such a delight for you—and so you continue. 

“I also think it made you hard. Not just because you called me when I was touching myself, but because your friend was right there beside you,” you purr, your voice a seductive sound of silk—leading him to wrap his lips around your digit. You moan for him, showing him how much you like that. “Isn’t that right, baby?” Your walls clench at the pet name, solely due to the fact that these soft terms of endearment have always been addressed to you, never the other way around. It thrills you. “I’d always be devoted to you, even if he fucked me. I’d look at you the entire time. If that’s what you want. I had a different idea, but yours is just—” you pause, and again you make a show of sighing and rolling your eyes back, “better.” 

A straight hit to his core. A glee for you. 

But you don’t realize how much you fucked up until Yoongi grips your waist and the hold hurts enough that you wince. 

And then—then he manhandles you. 

Lifting you and laying you down on the table, Yoongi spreads your legs. Watches you drip, watches as the satiny fabric follows the movement of your limbs and reveals you in all your entirety. He pulls you closer to him with a sharp tug until you collide with the tops of his thighs. Bends over you. Hovers his lips above yours. You expect him to kiss you—he even angles his head and rubs the side of his nose against yours—but he never does. 

He only leaves you waiting. Leaves you submitted to your empty expectations, taking charge, taking his control back from you. You shiver in anticipation, reaching for him, however he pins your hands down on either side of you. An angel in a rose garden. 

Yoongi chuckles, darkly, his teeth glinting in the yellow light. You fight against his hold, hips rolling against the underside of his length, beckoning him to do something, anything. You merely manage to prolong the thunder of his laughter. 

“One cock isn’t enough for her, so baby wants two,” he spits. That smirk, the crinkles around his eyes—he’s enjoying this. The hint of degradation doesn’t reflect what’s swarming inside of him, doesn’t reflect the face of pleasure coursing down his body. You smile and he scoffs. “I have enough friends for you to choose from in case you want more. I think you’d be stellar at taking three cocks. Four, even, huh? Would you have enough then? One in your tight little virgin ass, two in your cunt, one down your throat?” 

You gulp, frozen, eyes widening. 

Yoongi bites his shiny lips, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. Kisses you once. Begins to rock his hips, his length sliding across your wet fleshiness. The moan that escapes your throat trembles with each delicious motion. 

“You watch too much porn, honey,” he coos, giving you tiny kisses on the mouth. “I’d kill anyone who would come near this pussy. And I’d kill Jungkook, too, if he so much as glanced at her.” 

So that’s his name. You mewl, knitting your brows. That’s his pretty name. The entirety of your form shivers at the discovery, at the pleasure given to your throbbing clit. 

Yoongi pulls back, setting your hands free. 

You prop your elbows on the table, pouting. Yoongi grasps his length, spreads his arousal and begins to jerk himself off. 

“You’re not fucking Jungkook. You’re mine.” He groans, squeezing his tip; your hole clenches. “Rub your clit.” 

Like him, you spread your arousal on your seashell, the arousal long caused by his presence and now the mention of his name—the reason behind your frustration and his, the reason why you’re spread on the dining table, why your boyfriend is hard. You rub your clit from side to side, amused. 

“No,” Yoongi disapproves, knowing you do the motion when you want to prolong the build-up. “Circles. Make yourself come.” 

You change direction, obeying him. A sly grin blossoms on your lips, dark eyes looking up into his, permeating them, permeating into his soul. You pick up the pace, moaning into your expression of elation. 

“Jungkook is such a pretty name,” you provoke and you heighten your sounds in volume and intensity just to piss him off, just to have your way. 

A grunt escapes him, matching your pace. He wraps his fingers around your throat and squeezes. You hum. 

“A pretty name to moan in my opinion.” A layer of sweat coats your body. Yoongi grasps your jawline firmly and your satisfied laughter inches you closer to your orgasm. You feel the hot flashes, roses surrounding you—its tender petals grazing your feverish skin. You give in, watching Yoongi do the same, his mouth in a tight line, hissing and sizzling, an open fire, an open fire you want to be radiated by, burned whole by. “Just imagine him here, watching us. Oh my god, imagine him knowing he’s the reason why you and I are doing this.” 

Yoongi has had enough. 

He pushes you down harshly. Fills your hole to the hilt without letting you adjust, observing himself disappearing inside of you and begins to pound you into the table. The sound of skin slapping, the hard and quick strokes, the ravaged grunts he lets out, the fast change—it all takes your breath away, so much that you can’t, in fact, breathe. He grabs your face and makes you look at him. The dead of the night captured in his features, you absorb it, whining like the brat you are onto his mouth, mingling into your noises your approval, your yes’. 

Swallowing it, he kisses you, keeping his eyes open. “He could never fuck you like this.” 

You laugh. He swallows that, too, moaning. “What if he could?” 

He taps you on the cheek, a warning, giving you an exceptionally hard stroke that causes you to scream. He pauses. Does it again. Over and over—and your screams echo across the room, your own soul slipping out of your body. Petals flutter against you and you’re done for, hanging off the edge. You’re close, so terribly close. Your eyesight blurs and Yoongi pulls out entirely and rams into you. Again and again, abusing your cervix. 

You moan his name, gone—entirely gone. 

“Yes, moan my name like that. Just mine,” he mutters. “Who’s fucking you this good? Who’s gonna make you come?” 

He rams into you more rapidly than before. Your senses leave you until all that you know is Yoongi. His name, his scent, the wholeness of the night encompassing him. 

“You, Yoongi, you. Fuck, I—”

Yoongi laughs maniacally. “Yes, that’s right. That’s my good girl.” 

He rolls his hips, slowing down the coming of your orgasm, owning you. Lets your senses come back to you momentarily. You swallow, your throat dry and you blink, dazed still. Yoongi kisses you, giving you all that he took from you. 

“Who’s only capable of fucking you like this, honey, hm?” he asks, his voice tender and sing-song. “My pretty honey, so fucked out. So out of it.” 

You whine and you don’t control what comes out of you, your body answering for you. “You, Yoongi. You’re fucking me so—so good. I can’t—fuck. You’re the only one.” 

He smiles down at you fondly, kissing your nose, then your lips, parting your mouth and swirling his tongue around yours briefly. Then he withdraws, begins to fuck you again, slowly, reaching to the side for something. 

Once you see his phone in his hand, your heart stops. And when he puts the device to his ear, your throat dries up even more. You suddenly become aware of the silence all around, especially in your chest. You can’t breathe, you can’t blink—

Yoongi jackhammers into you, purposefully luring your loud noises out of you. “My girlfriend wants to fuck you.” 

You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut, the suddenness, the quickness of pleasure you haven’t yet felt piercing you. Fuck hot flashes and petals, you feel a heavy urge of your orgasm closing down on you. 

“She’s so desperate for you, even when I’m fucking the life out of her.” 

You flutter your eyes open to see Yoongi surveying you. You scrunch your face—so close, so fucking close—and then he puts the phone to your ear. Breathing, hard, ragged breathing fills all of your senses and you come. 

It’s an explosion. Roses bursting, their dew soaking you and Yoongi whole and you exit. You exit out of this situation, this world, this universe while your soul remains here with them. Vibrancy, colors so beautiful and sensations so vivid, ardent and fierce. You don’t know what it is you’re feeling or where you are. That is, until Yoongi’s voice yanks you back to planet Earth, back into this world, this situation—back to them. 

“In fact, she just came for you. Squirted.” 

You sob. Overstimulated, rhapsodic, but effulgent. Yes, you emit light and glow. You can see it in Yoongi’s softened eyes. 

“Think about it. No pressure. Just know she won’t shut up about you. I recall her saying your name would be pretty to moan while she played with her pussy. I think it’s only right you fuck it out of her.” 

With that, he hangs up. 

You brim with so many emotions that it numbs you. Happy tears flow out of your tear ducts—and happily, endearingly, Yoongi chortles. You don’t even feel humiliation or shame. On the contrary, you’re ready to come again. 

Yoongi kisses you and the sounds he slips into your mouth divulge how happy he is about this, how pleased he is with himself. 

You pout, burning your eyesight into his. He begins to rut into you. 

“What, you’re not even gonna thank me?” he says, grinning, as if he wasn’t fucking you at all, as if you two were still sitting at the dinner table, conversing. 

You stammer, head empty, silencing yourself and trying again. “What—what made you change your mind?” 

Yoongi places open-mouthed, wet kisses along the bone of your jaw, and there he seals his answer. “I made up my mind the moment you admitted you wanted to be fucked by him, but you wouldn’t shut up about him. I wanted to hear you babble for me. About me. I just had to mess you up to get to that point.” 

You mewl, running your hands through his sweat-slicked hair. Like a cat, he perks up to your touch, lifting his head, angling it. He kisses you, deeply. Kisses your relief. 

“Where are your manners, hm?” he whispers onto your mouth, giving you hard strokes that erase your vocabulary. You want to make him come and so you push against his thrusts, but to no avail. The intensity won’t allow you. 

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you murmur, cradling his face, pecking him, giving him the softest eyes you could muster so you can show him how much it means to you. 

He approves of your effort on bettering your manners and to reward you, he lifts you up and fucks you in the air. Your breasts bounce against the material of his T-shirt, stimulating you and he alters between jackhammering into you and sliding you up and down on his length. Your pussy squelches around his girth, tightening and Yoongi—

Yoongi loses his mind. 

And it’s him who begins to babble when you snap your hips down on him in circles. 

“Just like that, honey, oh fuck. So good, so good for me.” 

He takes it until his sounds grow in volume and you focus so much on his pleasure that you forget about yours. 

But you don’t let him take charge. 

“Let me fuck you, please, Yoongi. I wanna make you come.” 

Just like you, he’s out of it and because of that, because you asked so nicely, he lets you. 

His chest heaves, staccatos of his choked out breaths sail through the room and you can see it on his face that he’s close. Brows furrowed, bottom lip bleeding due to the way he bites hard on it, the way his mouth pops open and his eyes flutter closed. 

You hold onto his neck with your dear life. 

“Look at me,” you demand and swirl your hips in slow circles around his tip. “I want you to look at me when you come.” 

You’re so stunned that he allows you to be in charge, even more when he truly does open his eyes and pierces his gaze into yours. 

“I need to pull out,” he breathes, but you shake your head, snapping your hips down on him harshly.

“No, I want your cum in me. And I want it to be inside of me when Jungkook fucks me.” 

Yoongi grunts and this is it for him. His cock twitches in you, over and over again and then you feel it—the hot, thick ropes of his cum stuffing you full. You’re so mesmerized by the feeling, by the blissfulness evident on his face, by the smoothness between his brows at last that you can’t even milk him dry. You’re frozen, stupefied by his beauty, by his personal rapture and you want to feel it in unity with him. You kiss him. 

It’s him who fucks him cum into you, burying it deep, moaning into your lip lock. 

It’s him who lays you down to your original position and briefly, feebly licks the sheen on your spread lips before devouring your clit. 

It’s him who gives you the fastest orgasm of your life. 

And it’s him who tells you—in the shower—the story of how he almost beat up Jungkook black and blue once he heard him say how pretty you are.

And it’s you who checks up on him. 

“You sure you’re okay with this?” 

You’re stroking his hair in the bed, the duvet heavy and warm around your body and his, the night overflowing into morning—Yoongi, too. 

He’s falling asleep, but still conscious, still here with you, purring. 

“I wouldn’t be waking him up in the middle of the night if I wasn’t,” he whispers, opening his eyes to look at you, to see you enveloped in the extra blanket of the dawn’s rosy light—glowing, throwing the sun off of its throne. “Poor guy just got out of the military and you’ve already rocked his world.” 

You smile, fondly, thumb caressing his temple. Yoongi hums in appreciation. 

“I’m happy for him he’s getting pussy—one that’s mine. Before he enlisted, he spent all his time painting and getting drunk alone,” he pauses in a thought, blinking at the light. “You still want this?” 

You nod, settling into his chest. Yoongi pulls you closer, tucking the duvet into the lines of your form, bringing in comfort and sleepiness. 

“I’ll make sure you have the time of your life. I’ll be here the whole time, taking care of you,” he promises against your hair and you squeeze him. 

“He hasn’t said yes, though. He could turn me down.” 

“I’ve seen the way he looked at you. You have nothing to fear. He’ll come to you like a puppy.” 

Yoongi sinks the promise onto the plane of your forehead and holds you as you drift to sleep. Happy, relieved, steamed off of all the negative things you went through. It evaporates into the dawn—far, far away from you. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / READ part two 

[huramuna]

stoatfaced, dragonhearted - oneshot.

dark, mean prince regent aemond x wife reader

for my 200 followers poll, i've actually had this one cooking for a while so i'm happy this option won! this is absolutely filthy, i'm sorry in advance.

word count: 2.4k

i don't do taglists any more unfortunately, its mostly because i never remember and then feel bad about it so i've made a second blog just for reblogging my fics! @huramuna-fics -- follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!

content: slight dub-con, smut (specifics below cut), angst, mean aemond, toxic relationship, like in no way is this healthy, good god, smut with little plot, reader is described being from riverlands w/ auburn hair and brown eyes, no use of y/n, not beta read, i literally went into a haze writing this there are probably mistakes

tonight you belong to me - patience & prudence • vampire - olivia rodrigo

warnings: p in v, choking, breath play, dom/sub, degradation, creampie, cockwarming, orgasm denial, breeding, aemond is so mean here thats its own damn warning

Aemond knew what he wanted and the sacrifices that needed to be made to get such things. He wanted a dragon, it took an eye to get it. He wanted the Conqueror’s crown, it took his brother being burnt to get it. He wanted a legacy that would surpass his lifetime, etched into the very being of Westeros itself. The sacrifice needed for this would be to chain himself to a woman he likely wouldn’t be interested in.

That is where you came in. 

You were sweet, he supposed. Sweet in a way that made his teeth ache. Sweet in a way akin to a mouse and how it looked up at the cat just before his jaws snapped around the mouse’s head. 

He didn’t need to like you. Many marriages were forged in dislike or just plain indifference, set to a mutual goal. He supposed your mutual goal was children. All he needed was to use you as a vessel, a womb for his seed to take hold. 

You poor thing, you didn’t really understand that he didn’t truly care for you. You were nice enough looking, of course– hair that reminded him of autumn leaves, always styled in some intricate style with half a hundred braids, dozens of pins and decorative pearls. You reminded Aemond of a stoat, dark eyes against muted auburn fur, lips always pursed, sniffing the air in search for hounds on your tail. You certainly were a skittish, jittery little thing.

The marriage was a quick affair, done at the Sept two days after Aemond wore the Conqueror’s crown for the first time. You weren't a part of some major house, all of the major houses were too close, too greedy, their breaths hot against his neck as they shoved their wedable daughters at him. The last thing he wished for was to be indebted to some trivial lord who thought his name elevated him to the same stratosphere as Aemond– a paltry lady of some low house bred in the Riverlands would do just fine, he expected his Valyrian seed to dominate any of their week genes anyhow.

He had met you once before, many years ago before he lost his eye. When he was forced to tag along on some meager diplomacy meeting with his grandsire– he remembers it as being forced, but in reality, he wished to attend. What else was a second son with no dragon to do? – and you had been there, hiding behind your father’s trousers. You had been wearing a blue dress, he remembered this distinctly, as it stood out against the ruby red of the apple you had offered him. 

Aemond had tried to speak with you, but you only communicated in nods and soft noises– something you only partially grew out of. He never understood why he remembered this girl, as you were insignificant in the seas of faces he’s met over his life. Mayhaps it was your quiet nature that he remembered, something that, now at his age and state of mind, struck him as malleable, easy to mold into what he needed you to be. 

And so it shall be. 

–

It was about two and a half moons after your marriage, he returned from a late council meeting. Rubbing his eye, feeling the familiar thrum of pain right behind the socket, he was already in a particularly sour mood. The council meeting had gone south, ending in most of the lords bickering over one another like children. 

It irritated Aemond to no end, the strain of an oncoming headache ever looming. He still struggled with intense pain from his eye, or rather, his socket and severed nerves. The pain was debilitating at times and if anyone dared to test his patience when it was particularly bad, he would snap at them like a cornered animal, no matter who it was. 

Raising his head, he noticed the hearth was still going strong, multiple candles still lit in the solar, despite it being late at night. The now familiar crop of auburn hair was peeking from behind the couch— his wife was usually never up this late. 

“Why are you still awake, wife?” he asked as he took off his gloves, clenching and unclenching his fists. 

“… reading. I was waiting for you.” you murmured in your usual hushed tone, the sound of your book closing was louder than your voice. 

“I told you not to do that. It’s unnecessary.” he grunted in response, undoing the latches of his leather doublet. 

“I-I don’t mind it… I just sleep a bit easier…” you continued, no doubt twiddling the end of your braid between your fingers— an anxious habit.

“You need proper rest. I won’t have my wife looking like a sleepless, sloven mess,” Aemond chastised, discarding his shirt. “Now, what are you reading?” he was becoming increasingly irritated with you, feeling as if he had to force you to take care of yourself and unlatch you like a leech from him. When you looked upon him with your wide eyes filled with uncertainty and fear, he felt the overwhelming urge to wrap his fingers around your throat and squeeze until you passed out or mayhaps went limp, like a doll.

“Oh,” you slid the book towards him on the side table, it was a book on the history of Old Valyria and its language, usually used for children to begin speaking it. “Nyke j-jaelagon… naejot ēdrugon… va ao.” I wish to sleep next to you. 

Aemond’s brow furrowed. “What use do you have to learn High Valyrian, wife? Issa dōna ābrazȳrys mijegon nykeā notion isse zȳhon bartos, wanting naejot gūrēñagon mirros ziry daor.” My sweet wife without a thought in her head, wanting to learn something she cannot. 

You reached for the book, your comprehension not skilled enough yet to pull what Aemond was saying to you. Before you could grab it, he slammed his hand down on the book, effectively snatching it from your grasp. You pouted her bottom lip. “I want to learn… mayhaps it might bring us closer together.” 

Aemond scoffed, the sound sending a sting of pain right into the core of your chest. “We are as close as we need to be, little one. We are married in the eyes of Gods and men and we fulfill our marital duty by trying to produce heirs, hm?” He placed the book back on the shelf. “This nonsense of wanting to be closer is moot. I won’t hear of it anymore.” 

A glaze of sorrow flashed through your eyes before you got up from the couch, tightening the housecoat around your shoulders. 

“Come to bed,” he said, moreso as a command than a suggestion. “I know you are cold, ābrazȳrys.” Wife. 

You made a small noise of discernment, crawling into bed after him. 

He looped his arms around you, pressing you to his bare chest. He radiated heat like a furnace and was quick to warm you up– you were always so cold, he noted. He surely hoped that your children together would inherit his fiery blood and not the weak-willed, uninsulated Andal blood you possessed.

Aemond bounced from being indifferent to you, paying you no more mind than a maid or a whore, to needing you, every part of you. He didn’t see you as a person, moreso an extension of himself, latched onto his body until he consumed you entirely, your bones fusing together as one. To him, you were a doll or plaything to entertain him, testing the mettle of your will, to see if you were of poor craftsmanship and would break. He had always broken his toys as a child.

You could tell by the rhythm of his breathing, he wasn’t going to sleep just yet– you’d become very attuned to his moods, his small intakes of air against your neck causing your skin to prickle into goosebumps. His lips ghosted over your throat, one of his arms coming up to wrap near the base of your windpipe, not yet applying pressure, but the threat was there. 

No, it wasn’t so much as a threat than it was a promise– he quite liked applying pressure to your airways when you coupled, his lone violet eye centered intently on yours as they went from wide to half-lidded, soft whimpers of pleading to stop, sometimes for more, more. He relished in holding your very life in his hands and you let him. 

“Mayhaps I should get you a collar, wife,” he hummed, his voice husky and deep, reverberating deep within your chest as your heart pounded. “But I think you like my hands much better, don’t you?” 

“Y-yes,” you breathed, the small swallowing bob of your throat felt against the palm of his hand, causing him to grin. “... I fancy them– on my tender neck… between my legs…” you responded, feeling slightly bold at the notion you put forth. The heat of his body permeated your skin, warming your core into an ever familiar feeling.

Aemond all but growled at your comment, positioning the both of you to where you were laying with your back upon him, as if you were lazing upon him like a chair. “Feeling courageous tonight, are we? No matter, my dear, you will break all the same,” his mouth pressed to the shell of your ear, teeth nipping at your lobe. “Like every night before, and every night to come– your life is in my hands,” he enunciated this with a squeeze to your neck, eliciting a small mewl from you. “Is it not? Say it.”

“M-my life– belongs to you, husband,” you managed to squeak out.

“Not husband, not now. You know the rules.”

“M-my king, your grace,” you rephrased quickly.

He clicked his tongue in slight admonishment. “A bit slow on the take tonight, little one,” Aemond muttered, slotting his leg between yours and kicking your thighs apart. “Keep them open.” his voice was dripping with something between venom and sticky sweet honey. He felt akin to a God every time he was in the sky, every time he sat the throne with the crown on his head, and every time he rested his hand on your pretty little throat as he sheathed himself to the hilt inside of you so easily, so free of resistance. “So slick for me, just from the smallest of chokes– fucking whore.” he hissed, starting a slow, deliberate pace as his hips met against your bottom. The pair of you were like two threads, intertwined with his legs pretzeling around yours, keeping you spread open. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as he continued to bully that sensitive, spongy spot within you– but you craved so much more, feeling waves of heat emanate from your sensitive bud as it screamed at your brain, begging to be touched. You made the critical error, thinking your husband was too focused on his own pleasure to notice you going for your own, as your hand slowly descended between your legs, rubbing small circles upon your pearl.

How wrong you were.

His arm came up further, his bicep pressing to the bottom of your chin, his free palm slapping your hand away from yourself. “Are you truly fucking stupid tonight, wife?” he spat, stilling his thrusts. “When did I say you could touch yourself? Have I fucked you stupid already?” Aemond huffed in frustration. “My poor, dumb wife– you cannot do anything right, can you?” he slid you off of him, then flipped over to loom atop you, taking both of your hands within one of his, his large hand encapsulating your wrists with ease, trapping them above your head. 

You sniffed, tears welling at your lash line, threatening to spill– not just from his downright mean admonishments, but from your stolen gluttony, your pleasure stolen so close to the precipice. “‘M sorry, your grace,” you cried, “Forgive me.”

“You’re lucky you have such a sweet cunt,” Aemond mused, his immodest and downright sinful language going straight to your core as he nestled inside of you once more, menacing atop you like a darkening cloud. “I forgive you– and will even pleasure you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To come?”

You nodded fervently, your lamenting tears spilling over and running down your cheeks.

“I’m feeling quite generous, then– I’ll let you. If you beg me.”

“P-please–” you blubbered, “Please let me come, my king.”

A sickly smirk came over his face once more as he pushed forward again, not bothering with the slow and meticulous pace he had before. His hips slammed into yours as he surged into you, as if you were nothing more than a cocksleeve for his pleasure. And yet, and yet– his hand didn’t move to the apex of your legs, chasing his own high before he would give into yours.

“Aemond, please, please– please touch me, f-fuck, your grace– my k-king, please!” you were all but wailing now, half in ecstasy and half in pure beseechment, pleading for just some semblance of the lecherous, stimulating and lewd sensation that only he could give you.

He took mercy on you, the pad of his thumb zeroing in on your leaking folds, giving your clit a cheeky pinch. It was a delightful pain– that was what being with Aemond was, what it came down to. Every waking moment with him was thrilling, sublime, agonizing, unending torture– and you fucking loved it. 

Your mouth hung open, you were sobbing freely now, your lips quirked into a euphoric and maddened smile. “Thank you, tha-nk you, t-thank you, I love you, I love you,” you gasped, your lungs ballooning with air as you begged him further, “P-please, around my neck–” 

Something animalistic came out of Aemond at your request, his hand draping around your throat like a necklace. “My sweet, dumb wife– you don’t know what to do unless I tell you, unless I let you, unless I guide you to your release, hm?” he prostrated each word with a deep thrust. The combination of his ministrations on your bundle of nerves, the head of his cock callously beating into your sweet spot, and the squeeze of his hand around your neck– it was enough. 

With a garbled string of words, prayers, denotes of love, pronouncements of his prowess, his titles, his name– the coil inside of you snapped, lighting every nerve you had in your body on fire. You saw stars as your climax wracked through you like a tempest, the absolute vice grip of your core sending Aemond into his own completion, his seed painting your walls and then some.

In your fucked-out delirium, you thought you might’ve heard him say something– you didn’t decipher it until later when you were half asleep, his softened member still lodged inside of you somehow as he curled you into his chest.

“My love, my wife– I love you.”

[anyasathenaeum]

Hello! I feel like I might have already requested this before your ask box was wiped, but how about a virgin!Knives x Reader smutfic?? I love how you characterized him as shy and flustered over the idea of sex in that one crackfic you wrote 😵 I hope you have a great day and life is treating you well!! You're one of my favorite writers regardless of what you write :D

A/N: Hey anon! Yes, I remember this request! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to it, but here it is! This is my first (serious) attempt at smut with Knives, so uhhhhhhhhh please don't come for me, I tried my best. I've decided to start with some headcanons followed by the fic itself, apologies - it's long. Also, anon - thank you SO much for your comment, you're super sweet and I'm sorry I took so long to get to this. All the best! Warnings: MINORS DNI, Virgin!Knives, AFAB!reader (female terminology is used), hinting towards plants having "heats", a touch of yandere-ish behaviour (it's Knives, so not entirely surprising) penetrative sex, P in V sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), reader is submissive in this one, rough sex, marking, a little bit of a breeding kink, Knives being a Loser™, he's kinda in love with you but the fucker definitely refuses to admit it, name-calling (Knives calls reader things like "slut" and such) Word Count: 3.3k

Virgin!Knives is definitely not nearly as confident and as ruthless as he is in all other points of his life - he might seem like he knows what he's doing, but deep down? Man is SHY, but he'd rather die than have anybody realize that

Seriously, you won't ever hear him talking about sex, and he doesn't even use the word if he can afford to outside of the bedroom

When it comes to his first time, he likes to make it seem like he's in charge and like he fucks all the time, but he's literally just a hair breadth away from cumming the moment you touch him for the first time.

Would absolutely make you ride him (mostly because he has no idea what he's doing), but he plays it off with cool indifference and because he "just wants you to please him".

He tries to make up for it, trying to be more forceful or rough with his thrusts, talking dirty to you and calling you names, but it's a double-edged sword because the moment you're crying out his name and squeezing around him, he sees stars and cums WAY too soon.

Basically, Virgin!Knives is a mess and wants to seem like he's still in charge in bed, but with a few thrusts of your own, driving him deeper and deeper into you, you'd have him falling apart beneath you in moments.

But, of course, because he's not human, his stamina is INSANE and the moment he cums for the first time inside you, it unhinges him (do I sense a breeding kink???) and suddenly he's chasing orgasm after orgasm using you, and you're definitely not gonna be leaving his bed for the next few days.

Full fic below! Enjoy!

"Are you sure this is what you want, Master Knives?"

The question slipped from your lips before you could stop yourself. You just couldn't believe what you were hearing.

Millions Knives, the independent plant who you'd been working for for years, had had you brought to his chambers in the middle of the night so that he could ask you something important.

"Are you questioning me, pet?"

The way Knives glared at you, his gaze cold and calculated, made shivers course down your spine, and you quickly bowed your head.

"No, Master Knives. Not at all. I was merely surprised by your request. I apologize."

Knives simply raised his eyebrow as he continued to gaze at you, taking in your form as you stood before him. You'd initially been just some filthy human he was forced to keep around due to your utility and your skills, but over time, as much as Knives refused to admit to it, you'd grown on him. You were one of the more intelligent of your species, it seemed, and one that seemed to know its place whenever you spoke to him. But, in the end, you were still just a lowly, miserable human, part of the plague that threatened Plants across the planet.

So... why?

Why did Knives feel this... pull towards you? Why did he have to fight the urge to be near you each and every time he spotted you, the urge to tuck you against him with his wing and whisk you away, out of sight and out of reach of all others? Why did he feel rage boiling up within him whenever you smiled or laughed at something somebody else had said? A fair share of other henchmen had lost lives and limbs just for speaking to you (not that you knew that, of course - they just conveniently "disappeared" during a mission).

Beyond just those moments, Knives had also noticed... other things. A warmth that seemed to bloom from whatever part of him had brushed your skin, spreading through the rest of his body until it became full blown heat. This heat was unbearable to resist and made him feel as though it were burning him alive from the inside out, unquenchable even when he took matters into his own hands time and time again.

Knives wasn't a fool. He knew of the lust and the need to reproduce that his kind often felt, but he'd never experienced it himself ever before. Not until you showed up. But, you were part of the very thing Knives had sworn to destroy, so why did his body call to you in this way? Why did his body betray him so? What was it about you that made him feel this way?

"You heard me, (Y/N)," Knives spoke slowly and quietly, his gaze not leaving you for a moment as he lounged on his bed, "I wish for you to stay the night."

"Yes, Master Knives."

"You will not speak of this to anybody," he continued, his voice scarily level, "Or I shall ensure you are permanently silenced."

You simply bowed your head again, your heart pounding frantically in your chest.

You had always had an interest in Knives - asides from being somebody who was hired to work from him, you found him a truly interesting being. An independent plant, more beautiful than any living creature you'd ever seen before, hellbent on exterminating the human race to save his sister plants and trying to find his twin brother, another independent plant. He was always transparent of his end goal, and despite it all, you had still agreed to work for him. After all, humanity was a mess and it wasn't going to get any better - you'd seen proof of that time and time again throughout your life.

So, here you were - working tirelessly so he could achieve his goal.

Although, you hadn't expected to be summoned to Knives's chambers so late in the night, and you certainly hadn't anticipated him to wish for you to stay the night. You'd been summoned to his chambers several times in the past, sometimes for work purposes, other times simply on a whim, and you weren't ignorant of the way you felt around Knives.

His presence made you feel simultaneously safe and on edge, as if something was always just about to occur. As though there were always words hanging in the air between you two, just waiting to be spoken but never truly acknowledged.

Despite his reputation of being unforgiving and ruthless, you'd never been on the receiving end of that side of him, somehow. He could be harsh and sharp with his words and his actions, but he'd never caused you any true harm. You couldn't ignore the way your skin felt as though electricity coursed through it whenever Knives accidentally brushed against you, or the way the heat rose to your cheeks whenever you found him watching you intently. He never looked away immediately whenever you caught him staring at you, simply maintaining his gaze and ensuring to keep eye contact with you for a couple moments before looking away almost lazily, as if he'd grown bored of you. But the fact that he did it so often... could it mean?...

You didn't dare let yourself hope. It couldn't possibly mean anything. After all, you were just a human. Unworthy of him in every possible way.

And yet, here you were, summoned to his chambers in the middle of the night and told you were to stay with him overnight. Your mind was in overdrive, trying to figure out what this meant.

"W-Where am I to sleep, Master Knives?" You inquired softly, not daring to look up at him.

Knives would've scoffed and laughed had it been any other person standing before him, but this was you. His pet, of sorts. And as much as he refused to accept it, you softened him. You weakened him.

"We'll address that later, pet. Come here."

Before you could process everything, you found yourself approaching Knives's bed, stopping right before it and waiting for his commands, not wanting to overstep.

"Did I not make myself clear? Here, pet," Knives all but hissed, making it clear he wanted you right on the bed next to him.

Blushing slightly, you quickly followed his demand, crawling into his bed so you were right by his side. You could feel his gaze on you, and you risked a glimpse at his face - his expression was surprisingly calm, almost curious as he studied you as you sat there next to him on his bed.

"Don't move," Knives whispered quietly, bringing his hand up to your face.

Immediately, you froze, almost afraid to breathe.

"So obedient," you heard Knives chuckle, clearly amused, "What a good pet I have."

Without further comments, you felt Knives's fingers beginning to trace over your skin, skimming lightly over your cheeks and making his way over the bridge of your nose, then down over your lips. His touch was surprisingly gentle, more gentle than you ever thought him capable, but you remained silent as he continued his barely-there touches.

You struggled to ignore the beating of your heart and the roaring of your blood in your ears, your whole body feeling like a livewire. You had to remind yourself not to let your mind wander and make your hidden desires obvious, but something in the way Knives was watching you made you believe that he already knew of your hidden desires. You felt your face heating up even worse than before as you looked away from Knives, suddenly finding the threading of the bedding very interesting.

"I don't understand you."

Knives's sudden voice startled you, making you jump slightly as you sat there next to him. However, you remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

"Look at me, (Y/N)."

Slowly, you brought your gaze up to look at Knives, trying not to let your heart beat straight out of your chest as you did so. His icy blue gaze was steady as it trained on your face, still studying you even intently.

"What do you not understand about me?" You asked quietly, steeling yourself as you held Knives's gaze.

After a couple moments, Knives replied quietly, "I don't understand what it is about you that makes my body feel this way. How you, a mere human... are the only one who has the ability to set my soul and my body aflame. I get no rest because of you."

You felt your heart stop for a moment before it began to thunder violently in your chest, your eyes widening in surprise. There was no way that he meant what you thought he meant.

"Master Knives, I-"

"Nai."

You looked at him curiously, and Knives simply continued, "In here, I'm not Master Knives. My name is Nai. You use my name, here and only here."

"Yes, Nai," you replied softly, testing out his name on your tongue.

"I think you know why I've summoned you to stay the night, now. Don't you, (Y/N)?"

You nodded, making Nai smirk slightly, "Clever pet."

Without a second of hesitation, you felt Nai's hand cup the back of your neck, pulling you down against him and slotting his lips to yours in a passionate, lustful kiss.

You let out a small, muffled yelp as you fell forward onto him, your lips pressing against his and your eyes wide in surprise. His taste was surprisingly bright, and you found yourself melting into the kiss, eyes closing and matching his passion in the kiss within moments. You felt Nai's hands burying themselves into your hair as he pulled you on top of him, holding you close to him as he continued to kiss you lustfully, his desire for you overwhelming his typically-controlled self.

Despite the kiss being lustful and filled with desire, you found that Nai's kiss still felt as though he were holding something back. Was it simply due to him not being as invested as you believed him to be? Or was it for some other reason? Regardless, you found your hands coming up to cup Nai's face gently as you continued to kiss him, his hands resting firmly on your hips and holding you in place.

You could feel Nai's hands pressing your hips down hard against him, and underneath his robe and through your clothes, you could feel something hard rubbing against your core. A wanton moan escaped you as Nai continued to force you down onto him, getting you to grind on him as his hands guided your hips. You could feel your pussy beginning to soak through your panties, and your whole body shuddered as Nai pulled away from you, a string of spit connecting your lips together.

You watched as Nai's knives suddenly appeared from him, slowly approaching you. Your eyes widened in fear, and you tried to figure out what you'd done wrong, your whole body freezing and your blood turning to ice. However, the blades of the knives didn't touch your skin, instead the tentacles slowly working their way under your clothing, cutting piece by piece loose and letting the scraps of fabric fall from your body. The tentacles of knives glided across your skin almost tenderly, continuing their work diligently until you found yourself completely naked in Nai's bed, your clothing nothing more than strips of fabric now.

"Worry not, pet. You'll get new clothes," Nai spoke quietly, his eyes eagerly taking in your naked form.

Nai could feel himself getting riled up the moment he laid eyes on your bare skin, his cock hardening beneath his robe as he took in every part of you. You were beautiful, he supposed, for a human.

As he gazed at you, Nai couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like for him to finally take you, to stake him claim on you and to feel you around him for the first time. Of course, he'd never let you know that he'd never done any of this before, instead maintaining his façade of cool indifference and superiority, as if he'd done this so many times that it almost bored him.

Reaching out towards you, Nai pulled you back on top of him, his robe dissipating and allowing you to finally see him, his cock rock hard and throbbing, a glob of pre-cum leaking from the tip. You could see that the same plant markings that sprawled across the rest of his body were also on the shaft of his cock, as well as his tip. Just the sight of him, laid out before and below you like this and clearly wanting you, had your pussy dripping wet. You couldn't believe just how badly you wanted him inside you.

"Well? Go on, pet," Nai commanded, watching you carefully, "Please me."

"Yes, Nai."

You couldn't believe this was happening, but you found yourself feeling excited by the fact that you actually got the opportunity to sleep with Nai. As much as you wished that it could've been more than just sex, you were happy to have this, at the very least.

Slowly, you settled yourself in his lap, your hand wrapping gently around his cock and aligning him with your pussy, letting the tip just barely rest against your entrance. You were surprised to hear Nai hiss as soon as you took hold of him, feeling his body tense and feeling something warm and wet dribbling over your fingers.

"A-Are you okay?" You asked softly, looking at Nai with slight concern, hoping you hadn't hurt him or made him uncomfortable.

"Fine," Nai gritted out, "Don't question me. Remember your place, pet."

Then, suddenly, you felt Nai's hands tighten on your hips, grabbing onto you firmly before pushing you down onto his cock hard.

You let out a cry at the sudden stretch, your pussy stinging at the feeling of being split open so deeply for the first time in a long while, trying to adjust to the feeling of Nai inside you. With him sheathed inside you, you could feel just how big he was - even without moving, he was pressing against the most perfect spot inside you, pulling a whine from your lips.

"Quiet, slut," Nai growled, his hold on your hips bruising your skin as his fingers dug into your flesh.

What you didn't know was that Nai was struggling worse than you were at the moment - he'd never felt such warmth and tightness before, especially not around his cock, and he was trying so hard not to cum then and there. He hadn't expected you to feel so good around him, or for his body to be this sensitive.

However, as he held you against him, you let out a soft whine of pleasure and began to roll your hips desperately, pushing him just the slightest bit deeper into you. Nai's grip tightened on you, and he was about to growl out another command when his orgasm suddenly washed over him.

A choked "Fuck!" slipped from his lips as he involuntarily bucked his hips up into you, wanting nothing more than to bury himself into you even more than before as his seed coated your walls, painting them in white and claiming you as his in a way nobody ever really had before. You let out a moan and clutched onto Nai's shoulders as you felt the warmth spreading within your abdomen, and you couldn't help but continue to roll your hips as you chased your own release, wanting to feel more of Nai inside you.

"N-Nai, please," you whined, continuing to thrust your hips against him, "Want more... need more of you... please..."

Hearing you plead for him, for his cock, to give you pleasure made something in Nai snap.

In a flash, you found yourself laying back in the bed with Nai above you, his cock still buried inside you and still hard as ever. However, now, you could see a fire in his eyes as he gazed at you, his hand coming up and squeezing your breast. The mewl that came from you as Nai touched you made him feel more powerful than ever before, his instincts beginning to take over.

Leaning down and pressing his lips against yours hungrily, Nai began to thrust into you with urgency, his thrusts powerful and deep, pulling moan after moan from you as he continued to fuck you into his bed. He couldn't care less that this was his first time - nothing else mattered right now except for cumming inside you over and over again until you knew nothing but his name and that you belonged to him. He allowed his instincts to take over, the instinct to claim, to mate, to breed, to fill you up until it spilled from you endlessly.

"You're mine, slut. You hear me? Mine."

The growl that came from Nai made your whole body shiver, and the way he sunk his teeth into your neck and left a dark bruise to show that fact to the world made you scream out, partly from pain and partly from pleasure. You were his now, and nobody else would ever have you.

"Say it!" Nai commanded, thrusting into you harshly without stopping. "Say-" thrust "you-" thrust "are-" thrust "mine!".

"Y-Yours!" You cried out, feeling your own orgasm wash over you stronger than ever before as Nai continued to fuck you through it, "'M yours, Nai!"

"Mine!"

Nai slammed his cock into you one final time as he came yet again, filling you to the brim with cum once more. As he recovered from his orgasm, Nai continued to leave marks down your neck, your shoulders, your breasts, working his way down until he was ready to go again, wanting nothing more than to continue this until he could no longer stand it.

"Prepare yourself, (Y/N)," Nai growled into your ear, pulling your body against his hard, "You're to stay with me all night. And I'm nowhere near done."

[mooncalf87]

Do you have headcanons for Alastor and his mother?

YES I'm so sorry this took me so long to anwser

Also I cant think of a proper name for Alastors mama so we are just referring to her as "alastors mama" in this

Inspiration for a few of these come from the appleradio fic "Permission to Touch" on Ao3 by Nyou! Its an amazing fic, you all should go and read it :3

Alastor and his Mama hcs <3

Alastor got sick a lot as a child, and some of his best memorys were his mama taking care of him

She didn't pass away until after Alastor was killed

Alastor never moved out because he never saw a real reason to, and his mama was just fine with that.

She was a cook in life

There was almost CONSTANTLY music playing in their home

Alastors mama helped him start his radio broadcast in life! Without her he would've never been able to accomplish everything he did

Mimzy and Alastors mom got along great!! Mimzy was one of Alastors only friends so she hung around their house a lot

After Heaven and Hell start working together in peace, Alastor gets to see his mama again (who is an angel)

She is not proud of alastor for all the terrible things he has done, but he is still her baby, and she has all the love for him in the world.

Alastor brings his mama to Cannibal Town! No one trys to eat her because "any family of Al, is a friend of ours." Alastor introduces his mama to Rosie, who immediately hit it off and become friends. Alastors mama shares all the embarrassing Alastor storys to Rosie <3

Alastors mama LOVES everyone at the hotel. Especially Charlie! She reminds her of herself when she was young

They can't spend more then 24 hours in a realm that they weren't assigned to at death, but Alastor and his mama visit each other a lot

In heaven, Alastors mom has a close friend group that consists of Emily, Molly, and Sir Pentious! She's shocked when she finds out Molly and Pents relations to the hotel/hotel members

In heaven Alastors mama owns a restaurant <3

Alastors mama doesn't know many of the other overlords very well (other then rosie), but she likes Carmilla Carmine and her daughters a lot

Alastor doesn't come to heaven as much as his mama comes to hell to visit him, people up there are still not as welcoming as Hell can be

His mama loves Lucifer. So much. Thinks he's the sweetest little guy

Her form is a sheep! She's just about as tall as Alastor, maybe just a few inches shorter.

Alastors mama LOVES to draw! She is an amazing artist

(These next ones include appleradio, so if you arnt a fan of that ship, you've read all I've got to offer! :)

Alastor and Lucifer don't tell als mama about their relationship for a little while! She is originally apprehensive about Luci due to the fact that he is the literal DEVIL, but they tell her once she starts warming up to him

She is very excited about their relationship!! She can see how much they care for each other in their little actions (like covering another with a blanket if they're cold, little sweet stuff like that)

Once alastors mama realizes that Luci isn't this big scary guy like he's said to be in heaven, she warms right up to him. They love gossiping together

I take HC requests!!

[judeyswife]

not what i’m looking for. — jude bellingham x reader. II

genre : angst

word count : 928

note : hii lovies, this is official part two of the series not what im looking for !!! (part one) please let me know of what yall think in the comments! there will be a part 3 guys so don't worry, but it'll probs be a wrap up for this mini series since i want to get started on some other fics too + made a few format changes and writing from author's pov this time -- but thats it! enjoyyy! requests box always open !!

‏‏‎ ‎ ———————————————————-‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎

"i'm sorry"

it's horrendous how fast people switch up. or i'd say men, in this case. it's been roughly about six months since that conversation had happened. it was honestly one of the worst days in your whole life. i mean, yeah you'll get through it. but why? every once in a while you think about what did she have that you didn't.

but this is a topic that hasn't been brought up in about a month. and a certain individual isn't mentioned anymore in your life thank the lord.

you have gone to a beach house near where you live with a few of your best friends, layla, jess, and liv. yall needed this vacation after months of torture. or studying.

they've been with you since day one. truthfully you'd say who needs a relationship when you have your homegirls?

"Y/N, come here right fucking now." -- layla screamed from our room in the house.

you could literally think she had been getting murdered with the way she was screaming honestly.

"oh my god what!"

"whats his name posted a fucking video of missing someone LOOK."

who? jude.

you sit next to her curiously taking her phone from her hands in order for you to take a look at the tiktok she was trying to show you.

( for the sake of the story, jude has tiktok xoxo )

you were shocked. who genuinely who would've though that he'd actually miss us? it didn't even sound right thinking about it.

"maybe it's about her layla" you shrugged getting up to grab your water bottle from her desk.

"are you stupid girl, he's obviously thinking about you, i mean look at his caption." - 'didn't think a situationship could hurt more than an actual relationship' don't be a fool y/n"

liv and jess had entered the room a few minutes ago listening to the conversation making liv enter the conversation.

"ain't no way he has the nerve to do that bullshit on social media"

you stood there listening to them diss jude for about 5 minutes straight. but your lost in your thoughts. i mean, why would he ever miss something he supposedly never had? it's genuinely so draining and confusing.

"guys just drop it, its whatever. lets just go hang out at the hot tub, i really fucking need it"

your friends just looked at one another not saying a single word. they knew better. not to make you sound like a maniac or anything, but they knew how you were with bottling up your feelings. jude was a sensitive topic for you. they didn't want to be the cause of ruining your vacation over some dumb tiktok captions. they simply agreed with you and started getting changed to go out the the hot tub.

•

it had been a few hours since you last seen your phone and you're now inside getting ready to have dinner with the girls and settling down. so you took these few moments, unlocked your phone and checked out what you had missed.

you furrowed your eyebrows trying to figure out who this number could possibly belong to. since you and layla are sharing a room for the trip, she was getting ready at her vanity and noticed your confused expression.

"y/n what's up?" -- asking you meanwhile putting a face mask on.

"i don't know, this random number just texted me with my name i'm just hella confused"

"that's weird. ask who it is obviously"

you nodded listening to what she had advised you to do.

you had this conversation silently without saying a word to layla about who this "mystery person" was. mainly because you wanted to fight your own battles. i mean you basically already had jess and liv involved. not that your mad at them or anything, you know they want what's best for you. clearly they're on team jude. those girls.

"who was it?" layla said getting up from her chair to grab her phone from the charger near her bed. "no one important, they got the wrong number and person" you honestly don't know how she believed you. you hate to admit but you were feeling jittery after having that conversation with jude after so long. even if it was barely a conversation.

you hated that you needed to lie to layla, but you truly believed it was honestly for the best. when you and jude were talking, they knew every single detail about the relationship you had with jude. and by they i mean your friends and his friends. always involved. one of the main issues why miscommunication was lacking horribly in your relationship. so that's why you want a new beginning. not just to "lie" to your friends but to feel the sense of control in your life. even if tomorrow was the last conversation you had with jude, you wanted to keep the moment to yourself.

•

without saying a word to anyone, you and jude had been chatting it up all night. just a catch up with each other. you guys went from telling every detail of your day to each other, to not saying a single word for months to each other. it felt nice being able to slowly regain that comfort you once had when you guys would text or facetime all night long.

you were honestly praying for the best in tomorrow's conversation, you had no idea what it could lead up to.

but the overthinking was done on your pillow all night long, plus his texts of course.

[angel-eyes05]

What's In A Name

pairing: roronoa zoro x fem!reader

summary: as a master thief, you pride yourself on never getting caught. that is until you're caught by the straw hats as you try stealing from their ship. unable to turn you in to the authorities just yet, they'll have to make due with storing you on the going merry in the meantime. but, your time in confinement has allowed you to get particularly close to a certain swordsman. how close the two of you get is to be decided though.

warnings/info: nsfw mdni, oral sex (fem receiving), alcohol consumption, drunk/tipsy sex, face riding, my own sex headcanons for zoro are VERY clear here lmao ,takes place in between jaya and skypiea (please pretend theres more time at sea in between those arcs cause this will not work otherwise OK THANKS), this is for the pre-time skip zoro girlies (he's 19 pre-time skip dont come for me), no use of y/n, the first half of this is just cute shenanigans between reader and the straw hats. its a lot of character building stuff but i like it.

word count: 6.3k

notes: HI GUYS IM BACK IVE MADE MY RETURN I FOUND SOMETHING TO WRITE ABOUT!!!! and its the longest fic ive ever written too god damn what a comeback lmao. ok so i started watching one piece and im head over heels in love with this man...but i'm only up to water 7 rn so i only know how to properly write for pre-time skip zoro so thats how this is gonna go. i was looking for zoro/one piece fics to read but theyre literally all established relationship ones which aren't my cup of tea so im doing it myself lmao. also i didnt proofread i got too lazy sorry if some stuff doesnt make sense sorry sorry sorry but im a simple lazy tired girlie lmao enjoy!!

dividers by: @cafekitsune

You didn’t know any of their names.

You had been aboard the Going Merry for about three weeks now, and you still hadn’t learned anyone’s names. Granted, your reason for being there wasn’t to make friends anyway. That wasn’t particularly easy to do, being tied up in some storage closet and all. 

Being one of the few residents who actually lived on Jaya had allowed you to pick up a skill or two when it came to stealing. Pirates with big bounties and even bigger treasures left their ships unattended at the docks, leaving you with some perfect quick heists from time to time. Some steals were easier than others. As much as you believed in your talents, most of the time your ability to get out unscathed was based purely on the luck of the draw. It wasn’t an easy life, many recent nights leaving you with more injuries than berries and gold pieces, but it was all you knew having lived here for so long. 

After having taken a break from heists for a bit, you finally laid your eyes on a ship worth stealing from. A pirate ship with a goat out in front and seemingly orange trees next to the helm. Most of the ships at the dock had been there for a while, leaving the pirates on board used to your tricks already. Being low on cash was another factor. So, after a bit of planning, you made your way onto the ship.

Earlier, you had found that one of the windows to a cabin had been left open, so you decided to make your entrance through there. You gathered your things and dove into the crystal blue water by the dock. Once you made it to the back of the ship, you took your rope, with your own handmade grappling hook at the end, and swung it to hook on the window sill. Luckily for you, it stuck the landing on the first try. You smirked to yourself and used the hook as leverage to climb up onto the ship. Unfortunately, this seemed to be the ship’s bathroom. Not super ideal. You’d have to venture more out into the ship. But with this came the risk of getting caught. Given your dire circumstances though, it was a risk you were willing to take.

With an attempt to make as little creak as possible, you slightly opened the door into the rest of the interior. Coast was clear so far. Suddenly, a shake rattled throughout the interior. You tumbled onto the floor, pushing open a door due to your unbalance. What the fuck was that, you thought to yourself. It quickly became no matter though, when you noticed the door had opened up to a room with a treasure chest tucked away in the back. Jackpot. You slyly made your way into the room and shut the door behind you. 

The room was neatly kept, with bookshelves, a couch, two sleeping hammocks, and a desk with navigation tools on it. There was even a bar. Though temptation pursued at you, you had to stay on task. While making your way over to the chest, you heard different creaks vibrating across the walls of the ship. You prayed to yourself that it was just the wood’s reaction to the waves. As you had predicted, the chest was locked, so you searched your bag for anything that could key the lock. 

Time became of the essence quickly as the thuds and creaks on the ship grew louder and louder. Finally, the lock to the chest made a perfect click, as the chest unlocked. You lifted the roof of the chest to find a sight for sore eyes: jewels and gold galore. This was it, you were set. You were so in awe with the vision before you, that you had failed to notice the woman standing behind you. The image you saw in one of the emeralds was a tall figure, with jet-black hair just below her shoulders, and dazzling blue eyes. “Looking for something?” the woman questioned, almost sarcastically. You seemed to have forgotten rule number one of thieving. Remember to lock the door behind you.

Quick on your feet, you whip around to throw a punch in her face, but her reflexes seem to be quicker than yours by the way she catches your fist. You then attempt to kick out her legs. The image you see next shakes you to your core. A hand, seeming to appear out of thin air, attaches itself to your calf. The hand then slowly raises your fear-frozen body into the air, dangling you upside down like a party toy. You attempt to throw more hits at her, all seeming to be in vain though. You kick and scream, like a child throwing a tantrum, in an attempt to get out. The woman looks out into the hallway and signals over another one of her companions. Fuck, this is turning sour fast. Before you can make out any other features of the man, besides his cartoonishly long nose, he uses his slingshot to pelt a rock towards your forehead. Your vision goes black as the rest of the pirates rush into the room.

The rough fibers of the rope tying your wrists together were the first thing you felt as you woke up. This was quickly followed by the underlying nausea from the waves rocking the boat, reminding you why you preferred to stay on land. You attempted to stand up, but your dizziness and the rope tying you to the floor weren’t letting you get very far. Suddenly, the door to whatever room you were in swung open, and the group of 7 pirates living on board entered the room. You slinked yourself along the back wall, attempting to disappear into your skin. You weren’t sure what felt worse: The fear of what they were going to do to you, or the embarrassment that you had been doing this for so long and still got caught.

Nope, definitely the embarrassment.

The man, no boy was a better word to describe him, standing in the middle of them attempted to speak to you before a woman with short orange hair cut him off. “If you think we’re gonna let you get off easily just because we’re also pirates, you’d be sorely mistaken!” she spoke, fiery anger lacing her words. The tall woman from earlier put her hand on her shoulder, calming her down, and walked out towards you. You tried to scoot away as much as you could as she crouched down to your level. 

“Listen, we want this to be over as much as you do. We would love nothing more than to get you off our ship and drop you off at the nearest island. But unfortunately for us, that would mean having to find a group of marines to hand you over to, who we aren’t the best of friends with right now. And we can’t drop you back off at Jaya since we’re too far by this point. So, for now, we’ll just have to keep you tied down here if that works out with you.” You began to speak before the woman cut you off. “You don’t have much of a choice in the matter by the way.”

She stood back up and began to exit the room, the other pirates following her except for two. The boy with the straw hat and another man, with striking green hair and three swords lying in a holster on his belt. The boy looked somberly at you as if he was against this whole idea. But the green-haired one just stared at you. As uncomfortable as it made you feel, you couldn’t help staring back into his piercingly soft eyes. “Come on, let’s go,” the green-haired man said to the boy, finally breaking eye contact and turning his back to leave. The boy followed him shortly after. As he closed the door, you had nothing left to focus on except for the itchiness of the rope, the empty stuffiness surrounding the storage room, and your worsening seasickness.

The following weeks had the same routine. Each of the pirates on board took individual shifts watching you during the day when they were just out at sea. The strange reindeer creature would watch you when they were out on islands. The first shift was taken by the tall black-haired woman. She would come in at the break of dawn to make sure you didn’t find some way to escape at night. You two would sit in silence for a little more than two hours, asking and answering some questions before switching spots with the blonde one. His company was strange, with him hitting on you at random points in your conversations, but he always brought you breakfast in the morning. As much as he made you uncomfortable sometimes, you couldn’t deny that his cooking was the best you’d had in years. He’d even let you take a hit off his cigarettes if you ever asked, so his visits had its perks. 

The next shift was taken by the orange-haired one. The first thing she would always do when walking into the room was ask you how creepy the blonde one was. The answer varied on the day. Once she warmed up to you, she would bring you tangerines from the trees out on the deck. As the days passed, she eventually explained that the treasure you attempted to steal belonged to her, which you begrudgingly apologized for. On some level, you felt bad. These seemed to be small-time pirates, just trying to get by like you were. The more you learned about each of them, the worse you felt about your actions towards them. 

Around lunchtime, the long-nosed one would bring you your meal, cooked again by the blonde man. This member would go into detail about his next invention he was working on in his workshop. You admired his passion and energy towards his craft. His rants and rambles were normally interrupted by the reindeer creature coming in for his shift, causing intense, yet entertaining, arguments to break out between the two of them. The reindeer was the sweetest of all the crew members, always checking in on your health and helping you with your seasickness. He would talk about his home and his experiences there. You developed a pity for the creature. His presence was calming, and you felt as if you could let your guard down around him. That would change as soon as the straw hat boy would come bouncing into the room, scaring both you and the animal. You would soon come to learn the energetic boy was the captain of the ship, which shocked you. But you soon came to understand why. His crew had a massive respect for him, even if he was the root of half their problems.

Being on the ship, you got extremely close to all the pirates. Even the tall woman from before seemed to respect you in some way. You enjoyed all of their company. There was something strange about them though. One morning early in your stay on the ship, you could’ve sworn you’d heard the tall woman say something to the rest of the crew. 

“Whatever you do, don’t tell her your name. Your name is your biggest secret.”

You didn’t know any of their names. You had thought you heard some of them speak it to each other in passing conversations, but not enough to remember who was who. You had bonded with them, but if someone put a gun to your head and told you to name your prison guard pirates, you’d be dead in seconds.

Except for one.

Zoro seemed to be his name. He would come in for the last shift. His presence didn’t frighten you, but it slightly intimidated you. His habit of carrying his swords everywhere he went wasn’t helping. He was silent his entire shift, normally dosing off halfway through after spending around an hour sharpening his swords You didn’t even attempt to make conversation with him. You found out his name when the captain would yell for him to get back to his sleeping quarters. “Zoro! Your shift’s done, you can sleep for real now!” he shouted across the hall the first time it happened. Zoro almost bounced up from his sleep and gave you one look before bolting out of the room to catch up to the captain. You could hear the echoes of their bickering from down the hall as you giggled to yourself. At least he didn’t seem to always be that stern.

It seemed crazy to you. His name was the only one you knew, yet you knew the least about him. He had hardly said 5 sentences to you in the three weeks you had been on the boat. His stoicism was one of the things that drew you into him though. Something about his demeanor, how intensely he would sharpen his swords, how his worries seemed to melt away the minute he escaped into a slumber, and how alive he seemed when he was with his crew. It was enticing. You wanted to know more. You attempted asking him questions about himself, but the most you would get were one to two-word answers. The most you got from him was when your seasickness finally got to you, causing you to puke up the dinner the blonde one made for you. “Woah, are you okay?” he asked concernedly, shooting up from his seat. When your only response was a cough and more puke, he ran out of the room to go get the reindeer. One thing he failed to do was close the door behind him. 

You speculated your options. You had no idea where you were. You could be out in the middle of the ocean. Or you could be right about to dock at land. If you managed to scrape yourself about the ever-loosening rope and sneak out, you’d be free. You’d never have to worry about these pirates again. 

At this point though, did you want to?

You took too long to decide, the reindeer rushing into the room with his medical kit, the blonde one short behind him. As the reindeer gave you a dose of medicine and cleaned up your mess and the blonde one held your hand and consoled you, your attention stayed by the doorframe. Zoro leaned against the wood, watching the work from afar. What shocked you most of all was his face. For a man who seemed so disinterested in you and your existence, his brows were furrowed, his cheeks had a light pink stain on them, and a slight frown invaded his face. He was concerned. Maybe even a little nervous. But why? He’d never shown any sort of emotion towards you before other than sleepiness. Once the reindeer and the blonde one left, he continued with his shift. You noticed something though. He sat closer to you than he normally did. 

You couldn’t tell, but you were blushing the rest of his shift.

Once he left, you sat in silence, thoughts racing through your mind, until you finally fell asleep.

You noticed a change in his behavior in the next few days. When you would ask him a question, he would respond now. And with more than just a “yes” or “no” too. He had more energy around you and wouldn’t spend his whole shift asleep. He would even let out a chuckle now and then. You didn’t know what you had done differently to get him like this, but you liked him like this. He was sweeter than he let on. 

Something had changed in you too though. On the occasions, you would catch yourself looking over his appearance. The more you observed, the more you realized how handsome he was. His clear, warm skin, his hypnotic eyes, his striking hair. You caught his appearance giving you butterflies when he would walk into your storage room. Your heart skipping a beat when he would give you even the smallest smile. You would stare even more when he would nap during his shift. Noticing certain things. The way his breath would hitch sometimes. How he always slept with his mouth open and would wake himself up sometimes with his dry mouth coughs. How his chest rose and fell with his soft breaths. How fighting with a sword in his mouth probably made his tongue stronger than other men you’ve met. You felt weird about it sometimes. Almost like some freakish stalker. But you would feel better about yourself whenever you would catch him staring at you out of the corner of your eye. 

As time went on, the crew began to give you some more freedom. The tall woman began leaving some of her archeology books in the storage room to keep you entertained. The orange-haired one would show you all her marked-up maps. The long-nosed one would even let you out of the rope to test his inventions from time to time. With the door locked of course. And then, the big display came. One day, during everyone’s shift, they told you their names. The blonde one was Sanji. The orange-haired one was Nami. The reindeer was Chopper. The long-nosed one was Usopp. Their captain was Luffy. And the tall woman, who initiated your imprisonment, was Robin. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to you. With each passing shift, you grew more excited for the next. To learn the next pirate’s name, and with that, their story. Until the last shift of the day came. And you realized.

You already knew his name.

“My name’s Zoro,” he said quietly. “I know,” you replied, bluntly. 

Something felt different about this shift. You didn’t feel the same excitement you normally felt when seeing him. Without your connection to him before, his being the only name you knew, something about him just didn’t excite you as much. Now he noticed your behavior change. “You okay?” he inquired. “Mhm,” you responded in monotony. The rest of his time there was spent in silence. 

You felt bad about what you were doing. This wasn’t his fault. Yet you were acting like this. It was almost as if the two of you swapped places. He was now the one trying to dig information out of you. And you gave him nothing more than blank faces and empty words. You wished you could figure out why you were acting like this, but you had no clue.

Today though, the crew was going to take an extra step towards including you. Throughout your time on the Going Merry, you had only left your little storage room prison a few times. To go to the bathroom and visit the kitchen on special occasions. But you hadn’t seen the sun in weeks. After proving to the crew you had changed, they planned a little surprise for you.

Robin woke you up earlier than usual. “Is everything ok?” you asked, still half asleep. Robin just smiled at you. “Come on, get up.” You looked at her confused, as she walked over to your restraints, untying you from the hook keeping the rope down. She took you by your restraints and walked you out to the room. The mix of drowsiness and confusion left you slightly panicked as you realized she was walking you out to the deck. She opened the door to a still-dark morning. 

The rest of the Straw Hats were sitting out on the deck, just conversing and eating an extra early breakfast, courtesy of Sanji. They all turned to you once you and Robin walked out. “What’s going on,” you asked, still very confused. “On Thursdays, we all like to get up early and sit out and watch the sunrise. And we were talking about it, and we felt like you should join us this time,” Nami smiled. She stood up and pranced over to you, mouth slightly agape and speechless, and took you over to sit in between her and Zoro. You turned to Zoro, overwhelmed with emotions. 

It had been so long since you felt a part of a community of people. You never exactly fit in with the ruthless bands of pirates coming and going on Jaya. Finally feeling connected to people, especially after you wronged them so horribly, brought you happiness you hadn’t felt in ages. 

A singular “I-” was all you could manage to get out, a tear trickling down your cheek. “Just enjoy it. They’ll be at each other’s throats again in a minute,” he joked, getting a soft laugh out of you. He smiled gently, brushing the tear off your cheek. His finger lingered there longer than expected. You blushed. The butterflies were back and you caught yourself staring again.

“What’s that supposed to mean!” Nami interrupted. “Well, it’s true!” Zoro retorted, leaning over you to yell at Nami. The two began arguing as you noticed the sun starting to peak out over the horizon. “Shut up you two, you’re gonna make her miss it!” Usopp and Luffy yelled. They stopped bickering once they also noticed the sky begin to turn orange. 

The pinks and oranges mixed together in a beautiful watercolor painting as the sun reflected its image on the ocean. The soft waves bobbed the ship up and down in a calming hypnotic motion, almost putting you back to sleep. The beauty of it all was so serene. Against popular opinion, you always preferred sunrises to sunsets. The representation of a new day beginning. It gave you hope in your most dire situations. 

You lifted your head back to see the colors slowly spreading to the rest of the sky. Everyone to your right was in the same headspace you were like they were in some sort of trance. They were all cuddling against each other, Robin holding Chopper in her lap, Luffy and Usopp mimicking each other’s smiles, and Nami resting her head on Sanji’s shoulder. They all seemed so close to each other. Like a little family. Connected. You turned to Zoro to see if he was doing the same as the others, but all you found was his eyes softly gazing into yours, and his hand slowly inching towards yours. The minute he snapped out of it, he sharply turned his head and hand away and cleared his throat. You couldn't help but laugh at his schoolboy behavior. With your ego controlling your actions, you took his hand and slowly intertwined his fingers with yours. You could see a smile float onto his face out of the corner of your eye. You did the same.

The rest of the day was spent out on the deck. The feeling of the sun on your skin for the first time in weeks was euphoric. All you wanted to do was soak it all in. The Straw Hats must have been in a good mood today, because, with some extra convincing, you got them to finally take off your shackles. You spent most of the day sunbathing out on the deck with Nami. She had let you borrow one of your bikinis. You two were slightly different sizes though, so the suit was a little tight on you. You didn’t mind very much. You were just happy to be out of the same clothes you had worn for 3 weeks. Sanji didn’t mind either, ogling both you and Nami and basically worshipping the two of you. “It’s ok, he’ll get over it in a few hours,” Nami consoled. You circled the deck a few times to see if Zoro was anywhere in sight, but you couldn’t seem to find him. He probably went inside to nap away from the heat. Part of you wanted him to get the rest he deserved. The other really wanted him to see you in your outfit. 

The day really took a turn when Usopp brought out the liquor from the kitchen. “I was saving that asshole!” Sanji yelled. “Oh come on, this is a special occasion!” Usopp pleaded. With some more convincing, Sanji finally gave in. You and the crew got increasingly drunk throughout the evening, Zoro eventually coming out from wherever he was napping to join the party. You all had even decided to jump into the ocean and swim around for a little bit. All except for Chopper, very sober and very nervous for any incoming sea monsters. He had managed to get you all back onto the ship with some very convincing pleading.

You and Zoro caught each other catching glimpses of one another throughout the rest of the day. Zoro admiring your figure in the swimsuit, and you ogling at the way his damp shirt hugged at his muscles. One by one, as day grew into night, crew members began to pass out on the deck, deciding to sleep outside for the night. You and the other members who wanted to go back into the cabin, Zoro and Robin, made your way back down into the ship. “Make sure you tie her back up. No hard feelings but we can’t be too careful.” Even slightly tipsy, she was still her stern old self. “Yeah whatever whatever, goodnight to you too,” Zoro drunkenly pushed off. You giggled and blushed as he took your hand and led you down the stairs into the cabin. Robin sighed to herself as she watched the two of you scamper off.

You felt your heartbeat get increasingly faster as he led you to your room. For some reason, the air in the hallway got thicker as you got closer. You blamed it on your tipsiness. But your heart slowly sank as you got to the door, realizing you had to say goodbye to Zoro for the day. He opened the door and stumbled into your room, leading you in behind him. He closed the door behind him, hesitating for a moment before going to wrap the rope back around your wrists. 

He seems distressed for some reason, breathing heavily and avoiding eye contact. You look down at your hands, as he so gently maneuvers the rope around them. The butterflies begin to well up in your stomach again, the alcohol fueling their ferocity. His hands. So calloused yet so gentle. You can smell the remnants of sake exuding from Zoro’s heavy breaths. You looked back up at him. Were you two always standing this close together? You the butterflies keep rising and rising. You don’t know what to do with yourself. You’re not sure if you should run, kiss him, punch him, but you have to do something before you implode. Until. He stops.

The rope undoes itself in his hands as he freezes. His hands are shaking, his breath is heavy, and his eyes avoid yours like the plague. You were just getting antsy but Zoro seemed in distress. “Hey?” you ask, lowering your hands and dropping the rope to the floor. “Zoro?” You take your hand under his chin and lift his eyes to yours. You might throw up at any second. His eyes are so softly intense. 

He brushed his thumb against your cheek, sending chills down your spine. You both want the same thing. Both of you are just too scared to take the chance. “It’s ok. You’re okay,” you reassure him, placing your hand over his heart. His heart, which happens to be underneath his bare chest, him having taken off his wet shirt earlier. His breathing slows, and his eyes move down ever so smoothly from your eyes to your plump lips. You catch yourself doing the same to him, and you inching closer to him. “You’re fine.” Closer. “We’re gonna be…fine.” Your lips barely brush each other. The gentleness of the kiss is calming though, as you notice Zoro’s breath slowing. 

You brush again. And again. And again. Lips touching a little more with each meet. Until they fully interlock. The two of you melt into each other as Zoro wanders your back into a wall for support. Your kisses are structured, made to get the most out of each meeting. You’re both ravenous for each other, but you know if you go at each other like mad dogs, you won’t get what you want. So you both take your time getting to know the feeling of the other person’s mouth. You slip a moan out as Zoro’s tongue seeps between your lips. His kisses get slightly more sloppy as he runs his hands down your body. He feels the underneath of your breasts, the curves of your waist and hips, and finds a nice resting place under your ass. Your hands roam his cheeks and jaw, making their way to tug slightly on his moss-colored hair. 

“Needed this,” Zoro whispers in between kisses. “Needed you so badly. But I didn’t know how.” He separates his lips from yours and plants kisses and hickeys along your jaw and neck. “I was always just too nervous for some reason. You make me so nervous.” His hands find their way into your bikini bottom and fondle your asscheeks, getting a low moan out of you. The alcohol must’ve given him a confidence boost. “Good to see you found your footing now,” you whisper in his ear. He chuckles, the butterflies speeding up in your stomach. 

The two of you stay here for a little bit. Hell, you could stay like this for hours. Just soaking each other in. Feeling his warmth brought a fire into your soul. You could tell Zoro was getting a little antsy though, one of his hands moving from your back to your front, beginning to slowly circle your clit. The other hand went to your bikini, untying the back and letting it fall to the floor as his mouth moved to your breast. Waves of pleasure crashed through your body as you let him do his work. “God, you sure this is your first time?” you moaned out. He removed his mouth from your nipple to talk. “Never said it was, sweetheart. You just assumed it.” “Well from the loner vibe you got going on mixed with being on this ship 24/7, you can’t blame me for thinking that.” “Well the loner vibe worked on you, so who’s to say it hasn’t worked on others?” he smirked. You laughed to yourself as he got down on his knees.

Zoro slipped off your bikini bottom, completing the set on the floor. He kissed your v-line with the same softness he treated your lips to. He sat back on his knees for a moment to catch his breath, looking up at you, as if to ask for permission. You held your hand out to his cheek and rubbed it with your thumb. His eyes closed as he placed his hand over yours, as if you would ever take it away from him. God now this was a sight you could get used to. He was so infatuated with you it made your heart ache. He was right here at your disposal, yet you wanted more of him. So you bent down and gave him a sloppy forehead kiss. Once you were back up, he decided to go in. 

Like most things he does, he started slow and controlled. He kissed and sucked on your inner thighs. Once his hand finally left your clit, you knew he was ready. He kissed your cunt, using his tongue to lick up your wetness. You could pass out right now if you had less self-control. Whimpers and moans left your lips, your hips naturally starting to grind against his nose, relieving the ache in your clit. You let him know what felt good by the tugs and yanks you put in his hair. He was a natural. Your guess about his tongue earlier was right too. “You taste so good, just as I imagined,” Zoro breathed onto your lips. You could tell he was starting to lose his composure with the way he continued to bury his face into your pussy. Your cunt naturally tightened around his tongue as he tasted you. Your hips began to buck into his face as your grinding pace increased, the butterflies turning into a white heat you felt getting stronger and stronger. Your bud was becoming more swollen by the second. Your grip on his hair tightened to make up for your failing knees. 

You wouldn’t be able to take much more. Zoro wouldn’t either, his hand making its way into his pants to relieve his own bulge. His pace got faster to match your grinds. The smack of your lips against his tongue, mixed with both of your moans, was pornographically loud. Suddenly, the situation of Robin or another crew member hearing became an apparent one to you. That worry quickly left your mind once one of Zoro’s hands made its way to fondle your nipple. If he asked you to follow him anywhere right now, you might just do it if it meant this every other night. You felt he knew your body better than you did. “So pretty. So good for me. You make this so easy,” Zoro groaned between licks. “Zoro god fuck me please!” Your final whimper sent you over the edge as you wailed and came all over his perfect face. He licked up your juices as he finished his own job as well. Your knees finally gave out as you fell on top of him, into his arms.

He brought you down gently, straddling you on his lap as you wrapped your arms around him. He traced his cum soaked hand across your back and kissed your nape. You were more exhausted than expected, almost passing out in the crook of his neck. Even now, he was so gentle with you. “You did so good, darling,” he praised, kissing your earlobe. “Want…more…want you…inside me,” you managed to get out. He just laughed and pushed you up to look at you. “If you took me right now, I don’t think you’d wake up tomorrow morning. Look at you, you can barely keep your eyes open, sweetheart,” he teased. You pouted. “Oh, you feel that proud of yourself?” your drunkenness fueling your frustration. “No no no, sweetheart,” he chuckled. Once your frown didn’t change, he stopped laughing and pressed a kiss deep into your forehead. “I’m sorry. What I meant was, if I fucked you with everything I have left right now, which is the only way I would want to do it, this floor would leave us with sore backs for weeks.” You stayed frowning. “I want to fuck you right, the way you deserve. And I can’t do it for you right now.” You pouted more at him. He smiled up at you and leaned in closer to your ear. “If you trust me, I promise I’ll make it worth your while. You’ll be walking funny for weeks.” God, you almost came again just now. You didn’t notice how much your jaw dropped until Zoro laughed at you. You couldn’t help but laugh back in tune with his infectious laughter. 

He kissed you with a fever behind his lips, then scanned the room around the two of you. “What’s wrong?” you drowsily asked. The exhaustion from you coming, the sleepiness brought by the alcohol, and how late it was getting was starting to overpower you. Zoro didn’t respond. He just grabbed your swimsuit and helped you put it back on, tightened your legs around his hips, and hoisted you up as he stood. You decided to ask questions once you had a clearer idea of what was happening. He opened the door and walked with you down the hallway, passing the girl’s quarters and into the men’s room. He checked inside quickly before bringing you in and signaling you to bring your legs down. You confusedly followed him to his bed as he groaned, rubbed his back, and sat down on the edge of the bunk. “Wanna explain to me what you’re doing?” you asked, slightly more awake. “If you think I’m just gonna leave you to sleep alone, tied up, on that dirty floor after what we just did, then you must think I’m a really shitty guy,” Zoro quipped before getting under the covers and trying to pull you down. You put some resistance towards him though. 

“B-but Zoro, I’m not supposed to be in here.”

“I know.”

“If someone catches me in here we’re both fucked.”

“They won’t catch you.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ll wake up before Robin starts her shift.”

“Are you sure, I mean I just don’t kn-.”

“Hey.”

You stop your nervous rabbling and look at him as he sits back up. “Do you want to go back and sleep on the cold, dirty, hard floor?” You really didn’t. “No.” “Then stay here with me.” “But what if-.” “Do you trust me?”

You sure hope you did after all of that. His kind eyes reassured you in the darkness surrounding the two of you. You took a deep breath and nodded. “Do you trust me?” he asked again. “I trust you, Zoro,” you confirmed. He smiled kindly at you. “You’re fine. We’re gonna be fine.” He steadied you by placing his hands on your hips, running his hands along your waist, and pressing his lips into your tummy. You loved the way he looked at you. Like you were his whole world. It was comforting.

He took your hand and helped you into bed. You bundled yourself under the covers and wrapped yourself around his frame. He kissed your temples one more time before slipping into sleep, his light snores hypnotizing you into a slumber of your own.

The last thing you remember before dozing off was the feeling of his hands on your waist.

Everything you wanted was right here. In front of you. Straight out of a dream. Your only fear was that it would be gone once you woke up.

a/n: THIS TOOK FOREVER GOOD LORD. anyways thanks for being here for my comeback era lol. my upload schedule is NOT going to be consistent this is just a little splurge i wanted to write lol. thank you for reading i really appreciate it (i also really appreciate engagement lol please like repost comment etc im greedy). i love one piece and i love zoro. once i meet law expect all hell to break loose im gonna write so much fanfiction about him its concerning hes so fine im so excited. anyways lol thanks love you bye.

[ateriblewriter]

Fic about drunk karaoke with Trevor singing Paper Rings by Taylor Swift?

a/n: okay so it's more of a blurb, than a blurb. i hope that's okay. so sorry this is extremely late! also i don't think i really portrayed z as drunk but yeah. its still decent i think.

ENJOY!

Everyone was in town for one last hurrah before their various training camps started up. For the last the night the idea of going to a karaoke bar was brought up. You loved the idea and even offered to find the bar.

"Trev we have to do a duet!" You urged when the group was signing up for songs. "We could do Don't Go Breaking My Heart or The Time of My Life or Islands-"

"Can we do our own songs?" He piped up. He had a certain song that he wanted to sing for her and a duet was not it.

"Or we could do that too." Trevor noticed your face fall slightly. He did fell kind of bad for that but he could make it up to you.

Sensing his friend's need for help, Cole offered to sing a song of your choice with you. He turned to Trevor and mouthed You owe me one.

The real fun began once everyone had entered in their song choices. Most boys chose some country song or hit classic rock song. Some people where better singers than others, but who really cared how well one could sing when you were having fun.

After Luke had finished with his rendition of Black, it was finally Trevor's turn. By the time his song was up much of the group had already had a few too many drinks and weren't really paying attention to the intro of the song. In fact it wasn't until you heard your name being mentioned over the sound system that you realized he was up.

"This. This is for my Y/N. Love you baby girl." Trevor giggled pointing in your general direction as an instrumental version of a popular Taylor Swift song played.

"The moon is high, like your friends were the nigh that we first met ..."

"Oh no." You mumble, eyes going wide. Paper Rings was not his normal karaoke song, that was Wildest Dreams. What was your hockey player boyfriend up to?

You could feel everyone's eyes on you while Trevor was up on stage singing and doing a little dance, giving everyone a performance they weren't going to forget anytime soon. It was almost as if this had all been planned in advance or something.

"Jack, what's he doing? He changed his song."

"I don't know. He never told me anything." Jack lied. He knew exactly what Trevor was doing, they all did, you could tell by the goofy smiles the boys were giving you. "Just thinking about it and watch!"

So you did, you sat with your friends, sipping on your fruity little cocktail and enjoying the moment.

"Darling, you're the one I want, In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams ..."

It was a stupid idea and he knew it. That's how Trevor knew that you would love it. A couple of days ago when he was brainstorming with the boys on how to propose, it was suggested that he should do it at karaoke.

That's why he was on currently on stage, singing one of your favorite Taylor Swift song. Everything appeared to going as planned, he wasn't messing up the song and you were bopping your head along to the song. The only snag was he may or may not have a few too many drinks and was a bit drunker in the moment than he would have liked to be.

Trevor's big moment was coming up. There was a small break in the music and he called you to join him on the stage. It took you a hot second to make the trek up there.

"I know you like shiny things, but would you marry me with a paper ring?" He nervously asked you, reaching into his back to grab the literal paper ring he had to give you.

"I squished it. I'm sorry, it's not supposed to look like this." Trevor pouted looking at the smooshed ring.

"Trevor?"

"Hmm?"

"Yes." Trevor slipped the ring on your finger, it really didn't fit, but he could replace with the actual diamond ring he had sitting at home. You pulled him in for a kiss, a loud cheer erupted from section where the rest of your group was sitting.

"Now does anyone know where I marry someone tonight?"

[honeysuckleharringtons]

"Black Cats Need Candy Too" ~ E. Munson

Summary: In which You and Eddie are greeted by one last surprise trick-or-treater at the end of the night.

Pairing: Musician!Eddie Munson x GN!Reader (Reader does dress as Lydia Deetz for Halloween)

Word Count: 655

Content Warning: literally nothing that i can think of, she's nothing but pure fluff

Extra Notes: though she be short, she still be very cute and i'm lowkey in love with this fic

Originally Written: 10/26/2023

honeysuckleharringtons main masterlist can be found here!

halloweek masterlist can be found here!

You did a big stretch, standing from your spot on the couch. Your once pristine red dress was now wrinkly from a night of running back and forth to give out candy to all the passing trick-or-treaters.

"You think there will be any more?" you asked as you reached Eddie, arms wrapping around his middle. Your head rested against his shoulder, taking in the scent of his cologne.

He turned around and faced you, giving you a small peck on the forehead. "You head on to bed. I'll be up in a few minutes, yeah?" he spoke softly.

Your lips met for a small kiss before you stepped away in the direction of the bedroom. "Good night, Beetlejuice."

Eddie chuckled, flashing a tired smile in your direction. "G'night, Lyd-"

A faint scratching noise sounded against the door, effectively interrupting his words. Your brows furrowed as it sounded a second time, Eddie shrugging his shoulders in confusion as he opened the door to assess the noise.

The gentle mews of a black cat chimed through the door as it ran inside your home, immediately running over to meet you. Soft fur rubbed against your legs as it purred, your heart swelling at the sight. "Nice costume," you giggled, bending down to pet the cat.

"I suppose black cats need candy too this Halloween," Eddie chuckled, walking over to you.

You picked up the cat and held it close to your chest, scratching under its chin and gaining you a content purr. A dream of yours had always been to own a cat, but you'd never had the space for one or the time you needed to nurture it properly. Now that Eddie's music career had started to take off, you had a bigger house and more time on your hands. You reckoned this might have been a sign, and your heart swooned at the thought of keeping the little guy.

However, before you could think too much on the idea, you noticed its collar, subsequently shutting down your dream of keeping the cat. "He has a collar," you said, trying to say it as a fact. Still, the words came out clearly saddened, your previous smile quickly turning into a frown.

Eddie must've noticed your sadness, taking the cat from your arms. "I'm sorry, honey. Why don't you head up to bed? I'll call the owner and drop him off. He couldn't have gone too far from home."

Your lips met his for a small kiss, his touch bringing you the smallest sense of comfort in your melancholy. "Good night, honey," you smiled at Eddie. Your finger reached for the cat's chin once again, giving it one last scratch. "Good night to you too. Even if I can't keep you."

You were barely halfway down the hall before Eddie was calling your name. Confusion took over as you promptly turned around and headed back to the living room where he stood with the cat still in his arms.

"Baby, listen to this. 'My name is Ghost. I am not lost, but I am in need of a home,'" he read off the cat's collar tag. "Maybe you can keep him after all."

He swore your eyes went heart-shaped as you ran back over, taking the bundle of black from his arms and holding him close to your chest. "Are you serious? Can I keep him?"

Eddie met you with a gentle smile, leaving a soft peck on your forehead once again. "I think it would do you some good to have a buddy when I'm not here. Someone to keep you company while I'm at the studio."

An excited smile flashed across your lips as you leaned up, giving the man a grateful kiss. "Thank you. You're seriously the love of my life."

He snickered, giving you one last kiss. "Good to know. Now come on, let's get you and our little trick-or-treater up to bed."

Happy Halloweek Finale, my loves! 🥹

As previously stated, I totally meant to have this up sooner, but life kicked my butt the past few days and it took me so long to get a chance to edit these last few fics for you guys.

I really hope you guys have enjoyed this week as much as I did! I had so much fun writing all these fics for y'all and getting to celebrate the holiday with you guys. If all goes according to plan, I'm hoping to do something similar to this near Christmas as well so stay tuned for that!

I hope you all had a very happy Halloween and a wonderful Halloweek! Thank you all so much for the love on these fics 🥰

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @princesseddie @aftermidnightwriting @manuosorioh @hereiamhereigo @esoltis280

[daisysliv]

worth it | eddie munson

word count: 3721

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: the aftermath of eddie's attempted confession.

warnings: light swearing, angst, fluff, sad eddie deserves its own warning just cause, pining

notes: im sorry this took so long to get out, i caught the flu and then had friends visiting so its been an eventful month but the long awaited part two to my last eddie fic!! as always, not edited so all mistakes are my own.

part one

library

stranger things bookshelf

A week. An entire week has passed since that night, and Eddie could still feel the way his heart split in two when you told him to leave. He didn't understand, and you never gave him the chance to understand. 

Each time he tried to reach out to you, he was met with silence. Whenever he saw you, you turned the other way. You literally ran from him, and he didn't know how to handle it.

He walked into Family Video, knowing you would be starting your shift soon, and was hit with nerves. He didn’t know what he would even say; he just knew he needed to see you. You were there for him during the worst moments of his life, and he was there for you. You were best friends, and he wasn't going to let some stupid feelings ruin that. 

He couldn't handle it if he lost you.

The bell rang over his head when he walked into the store, and he looked around to see if you had arrived for your shift yet. But he didn't see you. “Hey, Munson,” Robin greets from her spot behind the counter. 

“Hey,” He mumbled, leaning against the counter. 

“Just hey? Normally by now, you're asking if I have a new movie recommendation, so what's wrong?” Robin stands up straight, crossing her arms over her chest. Eddie internally curses the woman for how well she knows him.

He shook his head and leaned against the counter. “Do you?” 

Robin nods. “I think you're gonna like it– wait! Don't change the subject.” 

“I’m not.” He shrugs, picking up the tape sitting on the counter, reading the title; Pretty in Pink. One of your favorite movies. He only sat through it because you loved it. 

Robin’s eyes settle into a glare, snatching the tape out of his hand, “what happened?”

“Nothing! I'm tired.” He lies, crossing his arms. He walks away from the counter, going to the New Releases section in hopes that she'll drop it, but she doesn't. Instead, she follows him around. “Robin!” He shouts, his annoyance getting the better of him.

“Eddie!” Robin shouts back, earning a glare from a nearby customer, but she couldn't care less. “Did something happen with Y/N? Because she's been acting weird all week.”

Eddie sighs, knowing he now has no choice but to tell her. If he didn't, she was just gonna pester him more or force you to tell her. Either way, Robin would find out. “We…I went over last week to finally tell her, but I didn't. I got so close to saying it, but my impulse took over, and I kissed her. We ended up sleeping together… and everything was great until after. She basically kicked me out and has been avoiding me.” He explained, his heart sinking when he thought back to that night. 

He had begun to open his mouth to finally tell you how he felt when you told him to go. His heart broke at that moment, and he didn't have the energy to do anything but listen to you and leave. 

He didn't let many things get to him, but this was you. He needed you. You were his anchor, and he couldn't imagine not having you by his side.

He didn't know how to fix this, and it hurt. It hurt like hell.

“Wait, wait, I thought maybe it was because she told you about Bryan, but you slept together?! Oh, man! This is- this is insane.” 

Eddie furrows his brows. “Bryan? What about him?” Robin’s mouth fell open, and she was, for once, speechless. “Is she going out with Bryan?”

He could feel his heart crack like it did after you kicked him out. 

“I mean– well, she– and he…uh…yes?” Robin cringed and rubbed her hands together nervously. She hadn’t meant to mention the Jason thing since you wanted to be the one to tell Eddie. “Okay, uh… look, I don’t really know what’s going on there. All I know is that he asked her out, and she said yes, but if the two of you…slept together, then something had to have changed, right?” 

Eddie nodded slowly, picking up a random movie. “Right. Ring me up for this? I need to get going.” He makes his way back to the counter, ignoring the ache in his chest and the burning behind his eyes.

It takes a couple of minutes before Robin finishes ringing him up before he realizes the movie he grabbed was Pretty in Pink. He chuckles to himself, mentally hating himself for not realizing sooner. And Robin for not telling him. He turns to leave, halting in his tracks when he sees Bryan pull up, and you climb out of his passenger seat. 

What the fuck?

He could only hope that his eyes were deceiving him, but he knew better. He knew that was wishful thinking. He hears Robin gasp softly behind me, and he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. He knew that you and Bryan were close due to the number of classes you shared throughout the years and being neighbors, but he didn't think you were that close.

“Well…that tells me where she was last night,” Robin mumbles, and Eddie fights back the urge to scream. 

You walk through the door, the bell ringing above your head, with Bryan following close behind. “Thank you for the ride. I'll see you tonight?” You look back at him, and Eddie feels his heart sink. He forces himself to look away, he can't do it. He couldn't see you with someone else. Not after everything.

“I gotta go. I'll see you around, Buckley.” He smiles in appreciation and grabs the movie from the counter, brushing past you and Bryan, ignoring the stabbing pain he feels in his chest. He hated this feeling, and he wanted it to be over already.

“Eddie? Hey, where are you going?” You ask before he has the chance to make his escape.

“Home. I got what I came for.” He forces himself to answer while he pushes the door open and exits the store, not wanting to be in your presence any longer. He would deal with it later but right now? Right now, he wanted to wallow in self-pity, and no one but him needed to know how badly his heart was breaking.

He makes it to his van before he hears your voice shouting his name and your feet falling on the ground as you run to catch up with him. “Eddie, I've been meaning to call you….” He doesn't turn around or even acknowledge you. He didn't want to. “Wait, please. What's wrong?”

You. You were what's wrong, but he couldn't say that. So, instead, he unlocks the van and forces himself to look at you. “Nothing. I remembered I asked Dustin for help in a campaign.” He lies, pulling open the door of the van. He throws the tape into the passenger seat, not caring where it landed and turns to look at you again, which turns out to be a mistake. You were wearing Bryan’s jacket, and he felt his heart crack a little more. He felt sick. He felt like he could throw up. “I gotta go.” He doesn't wait for a response as he hops into the van. 

Shoving the key into the ignition and starts the van, ignoring the urge to slam his hands against the wheel in frustration and pull out, not looking back at you.

You stood in the parking lot watching as Eddie drove away with a sinking feeling in your stomach. You messed up, and you knew it. You shouldn't have gone out with Bryan, not after what happened, but you did. You couldn't explain why. Maybe it was to forget what happened. Maybe it was to avoid Eddie at all costs. Maybe it was because you wanted to see if you could feel that way with someone else. Either way, you hated yourself for doing it.

Eddie was your best friend. He stuck by you when you needed him most. He never left your side. You’ve been best friends since you were kids. He was the only constant in your life. Everyone else either abandoned you or died.

It’s likely that was what made you kick him out. You panicked, asked him to leave, and ignored him for a week like nothing had happened. You knew it was messed up, but you didn't know what else you could do. 

Walking back into the store, you slipped off Bryan’s jacket and held it out to him. He took it back with a smile, thanks, and a promise to see you later before he took his leave. It was silent for a moment, hugging your arms close to your body as you watched him pull away with a sinking stomach. You felt a presence behind you, and you didn’t have to turn to know who it was. 

“You messed up.” Is all she had to say. You and Robin had been friends for nearly ten years, having met when the two of you were alone at the playground. She knew you almost as well as Eddie did. He would always know you better. 

“I know!” You throw your head back with a frustrated groan. 

“Like I love you, and you’re my best friend, but you royally fucked up. You have a lot of making up to do, like a lot. I don’t even wanna know what was going through your head when you said yes to Bryan, especially after finding out Eddie returned your feelings! I would’ve assumed you would have been fucking like rabbits, but no! Instead, you’re ignoring each other and-” 

You were thankful that there were no customers to witness Robin’s ramble about how you messed up. “Robs. please! J know I messed up, but I’m scared, okay? I’m terrified that if we do anything about it, then we’re going to ruin a lifetime of friendship. I just… I don’t know what to do, but I can’t lose him.” 

“Tell Bryan you aren’t interested and talk to Eddie,” Robin suggests, shrugging her shoulders like it was obvious. 

“But Bryan is so sweet.” 

Robin goes straight-faced, looking at you like you are an idiot. “But you love Eddie! I mean, last I checked, you did.” 

You rounded the counter, lifting yourself up onto the surface, crossing your ankles over each other. “I do love him. Eddie is everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner, but I don’t know. I’ve been in love with him for years and dated nobody. Well, that’s not true; I dated Jason Carver, but that only lasted a few weeks, and I couldn’t stand him. I don’t know, maybe I need to move on.” 

“Are you joking? Seriously, are you? Eddie basically told you he loved you, and you took that as a sign to move on? I love you, but no, don’t be so goddamn stupid.” 

“Robin!” 

“No, I'm being completely serious right now. Don't hurt him like that because you're scared or whatever. He doesn't deserve that. And Bryan doesn't need to be led on.” You knew Robin was right, but you remained unsure. “I see what’s going through your head right now, and don’t do it. Don’t mess with your best friend’s feelings or Bryan’s. You’re smarter than that.” 

You chewed on your bottom lip and hopped down from the counter. You knew Robin would have your head on a stick if you didn’t listen, and she was right. Everything she said was right. Eddie loved you back, and here you were going on dates with another guy only a week after everything and acting like it never happened. He didn’t deserve that. And Bryan didn’t deserve to be led on either. Neither of them did. They both deserved better. 

You were in love with Steve, and that feeling wasn’t going away any time soon. A smile forces itself onto your lips at the memory of that night. You felt your face heat up when you remembered the way you moaned when you first felt his lips on yours. His lips were chapped, but it didn’t take away from how good they felt. You remembered the way your body reacted at the feel of his hands on you, and while you’ve felt his touch before, that was different. It was a good difference and still made your whole body shiver. 

You felt like you were floating when kissing Eddie and when you were connected to him in a way you have only ever imagined late at night with just your hand to keep your company, but then reality came crashing down on you, and you panicked. Now, you need to fix everything. You wanted Eddie, and it’s always been him. 

He made you feel like you were the only girl in the world, and whenever you were together, you felt like you could breathe again. Whenever you were with him, you felt like everything was going to be okay. He made you laugh more than you do with anyone else, and he never left you when your depression took over. He took care of you and made sure you still ate and showered despite your reluctance to get out of bed, and you only grew to love him more because of him.

“So, like, I know you’re the only other person here, but I need to find Eddie…” 

“Wha- No, no. Steve won’t come back, and it gets crazy in here towards the end of the day, don’t you dare leave.” Robin glares. 

“Robin…” 

“No, I’m glad you got your head out of your ass, but you aren’t going anywhere.” 

“Fine.” You pouted and leaned against the counter, watching the clock, praying that time would go faster so you could talk to Eddie. 

Bryan had picked you and Robin up as promised and drove the two of you back to your house. Nobody uttered a single word to each other throughout the ride. He pulls into your driveway, and Robin is quick to climb out of the door like her life depended on it and waits for you by the door. 

“You okay?” Bryan asks, leaning back in his seat. 

You nodded. “I’m okay. I need to tell you something because you deserve to know, but I don’t know how to say it.” 

“Does it have anything to do with that guy from earlier? Eddie?” 

“I- How did you know?” 

“I may not be the smartest of the bunch, but I’m not an idiot.” Bryan teases and takes his hand off the wheel to rest on his lap. “Plus, when you ran out after him earlier was kind of a dead giveaway.” 

Picking at the hem of your shorts, you let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I do like you, it’s just that it’s Eddie. My best friend who happens to be everything I want in a partner.”

Bryan smiles softly. “It’s okay. I get it. Now, get outta here and go get him.” 

“You really are the best.” You lean over the center console and press your lips to his cheek before hopping out of the van and towards your car, fumbling with the bag to pull the keys. “Robin! Go inside and call Steve. I’m going to find Eddie.” You shouted to your other best friend, quickly getting into your car. 

You drove towards Dustin’s, hoping he actually went there. While pulling into his driveway, you didn’t see Eddie’s van, but you were already here and figured you’d give it a shot. Climbing out of the car, you walk up to the door and ring the doorbell, waiting patiently for it to open. 

While waiting for the door to open, if anyone was there, you crossed your arms over your chest and thought about what you would say once you found Eddie. You had no excuse as to why you acted the way you did other than the fact that you were scared. You knew it hurt him, but you were scared. He was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk anything; it’s why you never confessed through all the years. 

“He left an hour ago,” Dustin says the second he pulls open the door and realized it was you. “You screwed up, you do know that?” 

“Yes, I know. Where’d he go?” 

“Home. Now, go fix his heart.” Dustin slams the door, and you jump in surprise. 

Getting back into your car, you grab the wheel and throw your head forward with a loud scream in frustration. Your forehead hit the horn, and your head shot up, looking around nervously. You’ve seen people do that in movies and always found it to be a stupid thing to do accidentally because who in their right mind would hit their head against the wheel? Oh, right, you would and did. 

You pulled out of the Henderson driveway and towards Eddie’s trailer, your heart hammering against your chest. Turning up your radio, a song you recognized as one by Paul Anka came through your speakers, and you laughed at the irony. 

It wasn’t a long drive to Eddie’s from Dustin’s, but it was long enough to give you the chance to overthink what you were doing. You didn’t want to put your friendship at risk if you ended up dating and breaking up. Would it be worth it if you lost him in the run? You didn’t have an answer for that, and it did more than scare you. It broke you. 

You couldn’t lose him. You didn’t want to imagine life without him because you didn’t want to live that life. You didn’t want to even think of the possibility that there could be a life without Eddie Munson. You couldn’t even think about it without your heart split down the middle. You needed him in your life. Losing him would break you. 

You finally reached his trailer and got out of the car. You figured that he must’ve been this nervous when he showed up at your house, and you hated yourself a little more. 

Knocking on the door, you bit your lip and let out a deep breath. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest, your hands were sweaty, and the hair that touched your neck felt like it was coated in sweat and sticking to your skin. You thought you could throw up from the anxiety you felt. 

“Sweetheart?” 

Your heart sank. Even after you hurt him, he still used the nickname. 

“I’m sorry.” You blurt, pushing yourself into the apartment and pacing around the living room. “I screwed up, and I’m sorry, but I panicked, okay? You…we did the thing I could only ever fantasize about, and when I realized that it wasn’t all in my head, I freaked. When you kissed me, I felt like I was floating, and I couldn’t believe it. You’re everything I ever wanted in somebody, and you’re my best friend, and I’m scared of losing you. I don’t want to risk it because losing you is something I don’t even consider an option because how can I? You’re you, and you’re amazing. So, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for going on that stupid date with Bryan when I should have been on one with you.” You rushed out, biting back tears, your chest heaving from the lack of air. 

Eddie stared at you like a deer caught in headlights. The door was now shut, but he still stood by it, his eyes wide. “Sweetheart-” 

“I know I messed up, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but the idea of losing you scares me to death. We’ve been in a lot of situations where we fought, but we always found our way back to each other, and I don’t know what I would do if it didn’t happen this time. I love you more than anything, and I can’t imagine a life where I don’t have you. It would break me. I don’t want to risk this. I don’t want to lose you if we end up breaking up because I would rather have you as my friend than not have you at all.” 

Eddie takes a quick stride over to me, his hands instantly finding their way underneath your jaw, holding your head still. “Listen to me, you won’t lose me, okay? Never. And if that’s all you’re worried about, it’s okay because I am too. You mean everything to me, and I can’t imagine living my life without you by my side. If you would rather just be friends, then we can do that, but I won’t act like it wouldn’t be the hardest thing in the world.” He looked at you with a love in his eyes that you’d never noticed before, and it made you melt. “I love you, and I will do anything to be in your life, even if it means that I can’t hold you or kiss you or call you mine as much as I want, but I’ll do it.” 

Scrunching your nose, you let out a breathy chuckle. “I want to be with you, Eds, but if I lose you, I swear to God.” 

“You won’t. I’ll make this risk worth it.” He leans closer and lays his forehead on yours. Your eyes flickered down to look at his lips, but he didn’t want that. “Hey, look at me.” You pull your gaze away from his mouth and lock your eyes with his. “You won’t lose me because I’m not letting you go.” 

“Promise me?” You sniffed, blinking back tears. 

“I promise to make this risk worth it and never let you go.’ He hovers his lips over yours, refusing to press them together. “Tell me you love me.” 

“I love you, Eddie.” You whisper, allowing a single tear to fall down your cheek. 

Eddie exhales a chuckle, a smile painting his face. “Good.” He finally presses their lips together, earning a low whimper from you. You loved the feeling of his lips on yours. They were chapped but soft. He tasted like cigarettes and beer, which wasn’t the best combination, but you loved it because it was him. And you loved him for everything he was. 

notes: since tumblr apparently has a limit of how many people i can tag, if i noticed i had you in multiple taglists for stranger things, i removed the duplicate so i can tag more people!

PERMANENT TAGLIST ( if it’s crossed out that means i couldn’t tag you )

@prettylittlemoonlight @drayshadow @evanbuckbuckleyhowlett @wildestdreamcatcher @mushroomdemon9 @levylovegood @1-800-prostitutes @AllieAprilKnox @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @moshpot24x @AlohaStitch_626 @lucyispan @linkpk88 @juneb3rry @loveshineslikethesky @liyinzen

STRANGER THINGS TAGLIST

@hehehehannahthings @polarisfae @Pinksloosh @bvmbshell @lilahloopsy @yeosangs-left-ass-cheek @angelbbygrl @wandamaximoffs-deadchild @marauderssworld @watchingteav @scorpfairy @cherrypieyourface @soph69420world @itsquinoa @milkiane @daffodil0darling @pastel-abyss-x @maruushkka @kiwi5335

EDDIE MUNSON TAGLIST

@wildestdreamcatcher @spookyconsultingcriminal @findleynovadachs111 @marvel-starwars-nerd @lovelyladymayyy @mcueveryday @ts1mikas @WolfOstar @pettyassbitch @pumpararapam @karagrace @susbuttercup @cupidlvrrr @eddiemunsonhellfire @soph69420world @lucyispan @centralperksfunds @zervopoulouu @3belladonna

[suffarustuffaru]

Have you read one fanfic on AO3 titled Re:Incarnated? One of the most interesting and new aspects of this story for me was Subaru being reborn as a half-elf by Satella. I bet no one has ever thought and acted on that idea before, but there are some questions that bother me, for example, in the canon series there are moments where Subaru relies on Earth's modern technology and knowledge to solve difficult problems, Subaru becomes a half-elf in the world of Rezero and that means that he forgets about his previous life on Earth in Japan, and then when faced with the same dilemma How should Subaru solve it? But I feel these questions should go wait for the original author's update to get answered.

I have to say that fic opened a new door for my inspiration, and I also started to think about creating my own Subaru's elf or half-elf AU, and even imagined a crossover with Lord of the Rings (after all, there's a ton of Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter crossover fics on AO3 and fanfiction) Like one day Subaru is for whatever reason transported to Middle-earth by Satella accidentally and experienced something there, and then how he was found and adopted by the elves of Middle-earth, I think it would be very interesting how the elves of Middle-earth were surprised to find out that elves existed in the Otherworld, Subaru looks similar to them but differs in a few places,and then how Subaru got along with the elves of Middle-earth, and how he explored his own existence and self-worth,how would it be different than the canon series (My half-elf Subaru's character isn't too far off from the canon) Sorry I'm getting a bit carried away, I'm an incorrigible and extreme fan of crossover tropes, I hope you don't mind too much!

yoo sorry i took so long to reply to this ask but please know im delighted to see any asks in my inbox and pfft its interesting hearing about what people are thinking + what they find interesting themselves!!!

as for re:incarnated - i read a chapter or two AGES ago, so i really dont remember much of the fic sadly T^T but ill consider possibly going back to it and reading through it!!! i have a very long to read list though so ill see pfft. and yeah i think that fic was def like. one of if not the first fic to have like half elf subaru as an idea be explored and it also shows a Different method of the isekai trope (being reincarnated!!!) which is fun i think!! plus like. putting "re:" in fic titles is EXTREMELY extremely common in this fandom which i suppose makes sense given. the source material is called rezero. granted most of the time (this is just my opinion btw and i mean no harm by it HAH), to me a lot of fics with "re:" in the title dont justify why the "re:" is actually there. "Re:Incarnated" though is an EXTREMELY good use of the "re" imo. i love the pun <3

yeah as for the fic material itself - i do think its interesting to like change small bits of characters. not in the sense that youre changing like the Core of who they are but i Like seeing experimentations with characters to see like small differences. which is why i love aus (such as the literal canon aus we get in the form of the What Ifs and such!!). if that makes sense. that probably makes more sense in my head HAH anyway!! i always feel like changing a characters backstory is SO HARD to pull off without completely changing a character bc it shapes them a lot. but half elf subaru is definitely an idea that can be done in an interesting way imo and im curious to see how re:incarnated handled that. i know ive considered like emisuba roleswaps myself where emilia was isekaied from earth and subarus a half elf which was kind of like re:incarnated but also not like re:incarnated bc subaru had a similar backstory still but now with a fantasy world background (and vice versa for emilia) aljdfdlsjf. but yeah like i like seeing people experiment with these characters and make fun aus!!! and for me personally its hard for me to find ones i like in this fandom + this fandom doesnt do all the usual fic-isms (like there is next to zero soulmate aus for example HAH) so. interesting i suppose!!

as for your own half elf subaru au - im delighted that you were inspired by re:incarnated and are having fun with your own au as well!! :D while i basically know next to nothing about lord of the rings, your idea definitely sounds interesting, though i dont usually read crossovers that arent fusion aus - but i REALLY love the idea of like two different elf species from two different worlds going ??? at each other HAH thats fun stuff!! and i definitely like when despite all the AU things going on, characters like subaru arent too far off from canon in all the big important ways (ie his whole personality) bc for me, its like - theres a reason why we love these characters and i love trying to capture the heart of who they are even with au things, you know? :o but hah yeah ive made my own crossovers though in private (not to post, just for fun pfft) and i hope you keep having fun about your own half elf subaru au bc it sounds very neat <3 ty for sharing anon!! :D

[reverie-starlight]

hello, hope ure doing well :D may i please request an akaashi fic where the reader is going thru grief of the passing of their mother and can’t focus in class leading onto low grades for their semester exam making them feel even worse bc that’s not what their mom wants (reader always gets good grades) and reader feels like a disappointment and just breaks down one day?? i’m so sorry if this is too specific, just finding it hard to cope and no one understands!! thank you so much <3

ANON I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, but I have literally been dealing with exactly what you requested (still am, but now I'm on reading week so :P). And since I'm literally writing this immediately after a rough grieving session of my own, I feel like now I can tackle it and do it justice. bc... as someone who also used to get good grades before my mom died then started almost failing everything after... this hits hard!!

And just another little side note, I'm so sorry for your loss. if you ever want to reach out to talk to someone who's going through the same thing, my inbox or my messages are always open <3 dead mom club solidarity !! thank you so much for your request, anon and again i'm SO sorry this took so long.

{Grades and Grief- Akaashi}

warnings: death of mother (mentioned and focused on, no descriptive details), depression/grief, anxiety, this counts as hurt/comfort right? fluff and lots of support from akaashi. university life needs to be a warning tbh so its here.

gn!reader, timeskip!akaashi (except it's more like, in between the time skip cause it's university)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

your heart dropped as you opened your emails and saw that the grades for your midterms had been posted.

on one hand you were hopeful. maybe you did better than you expected? maybe you would open up the online portal and see that you passed. just a pass, that's all you were hoping for at this point.

you ignored the way your stomach twisted at the fact that all you wanted was a pass. you used to be at the top of your classes in high school, and now you were barely scraping by.

but deep down you knew it would be a failing grade. it was getting impossible to hope for anything better. you could barely find it in yourself to go to class some days, let alone actually study. it required more brain power than you could expend.

and on the days you did go to class, you felt like a zombie. mindless, lethargic, stupid. definitely not in any condition to take notes that were good enough to aid you.

you opened the email and sighed. another fail. you tried to convince yourself that you'd do better next time. that you'd start studying earlier, you'd go to your professor's office hours and ask questions, you'd do the work that needed to be done.

your future was at stake, why couldn't you just put in the the work-

this was one test in one class. there would be other chances to raise your grade.

breathe.

how many times can I keep telling myself that before I stop believing it? before it becomes an empty promise?

breathe. you'll be okay.

it's self-sabotage, how much longer can I just stay like this? mom wouldn't have wanted this for me. she'd want to see me succeed. I'm such a-

breathe.

you tried to do exactly what your boyfriend kept telling you: be kind to yourself. "you're grieving the death of someone who was supposed to be there your whole life. the one person you never thought would leave. it's completely natural to be struggling with your mental health right now. don't be mean to yourself." is what he had said. "take the time to feel what you need to feel, bottling it up will only make it worse."

you sighed and curled yourself into a ball on your bed. you were finding it hard to breathe.

feel what you need to feel, huh? when was the last time you had a good cry session, anyway?

the tightness in your chest only grew as you started to tear up. you tried to keep the thoughts of being a disappointment to your mother away, but you glanced at the picture of her smiling face on your nightstand and winced.

if she could see you know, you wondered if she would be angry or comforting.

grieving was one of the loneliest experiences anyone could ever deal with. unique to each person, not one person to share the same memories with, becoming acutely aware of your own timeline. and not something that happens often to young people. none of your friends understood. they could try, but they'd never get it. and sometimes you felt like they didn't even care enough to attempt it.

you've never felt more alone and you've never been more aware of it.

"and if you ever need comfort, I don't know how much help I'll be, but I'm always here to listen. it's never going to be too much."

so instead of dwelling on it, you picked up your phone and called the one person who would.

it took three rings for akaashi to pick up.

the smile in his voice immediately soothed you. anything related to your boyfriend felt like a blanket to you. comforting, warm and soft. "hello, my love, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

you sniffed and tried to get some words out without choking up. "keiji," his name came out pitifully.

"oh sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"can you come over, please? I need you."

"of course I can, I'll be right there. I love you."

"I love you, please be careful."

the second you hung up the phone, you let more tears fall freely. you didn't even know what you were crying about anymore, there were so many emotions mixed up inside you. but for some reason you didn't want to fully let loose while you were alone. you wanted comfort when you were at your most vulnerable- comfort and validation you weren't capable of giving yourself in that moment. there was only one other person who could give you that now.

while you waited, you thought more about your mother. it really wasn't fair that you had to lose her, why did she have to go? it didn't matter how long it had been since she passed, this type of pain will be everlasting, you thought.

ten minutes later you heard the door to your apartment unlock and you got up to greet him. he had a bunch of bags in his arms that he set down the minute he saw you walk out of your room.

he held his arms open and you crashed into him immediately. finally you felt safe enough to let the dam break. akaashi shushed you as you sobbed into his chest, rubbing your back gently and whispering soft affirmations into your ears.

"what happened, my love?"

"I- I failed another test," you hiccupped. "and I don't know what to do to help myself get out of this hole."

"oh dear... it's going to be okay."

he tenderly picked you up and carried you to the bedroom and you continued to cry into his shoulder. his heart broke at the sound of your whimpers.

once you were both settled comfortably on your bed, you took one of his hands and played with his fingers. "keiji, am I a disappointment?"

he shook his head before you could even finish speaking. "never."

"I just feel like I'm letting so many people down, myself included, but mainly my mom... her one request throughout my whole life was that I do my best in school. and now I'm failing and I can't help but think-" your voice cracked and he cupped your cheek with his other hand.

"baby, look at me. you are not a disappointment, okay? you are so far from that ever even being a possibility. and she would be so proud of you."

you looked up at him and your eyes widened. "but I'm not living up to her expectations-"

"you're doing your best. she would understand that."

"I'm not, though!" a flash of red hot anger ran through you. "I'm not doing my best! If I were doing my best, I'd be passing. I'd be studying, paying attention in my classes and not just staying in bed. not just staring at the ceiling and dissociating for hours when I need to be working on assignments. I'm not doing my best and I don't know how to fix it!" instead of getting upset at you for blowing up, he just listened to what you were saying.

as you got up to pace the room, you kept ranting. "I know something needs to change, I can't keep going on like this, but it's like I'm stuck, keiji, I don't know what to do and I'm so angry. and I'm tired, exhausted, actually. I hate this, I feel useless. I'm in limbo. I don't know why I can't force myself to change, but I'm absolutely not doing my best."

true anger wasn't an emotion you felt often before your mom died, but now you were well acquainted with it. you thanked your lucky stars you scored a partner as patient as akaashi.

"have you considered that you're doing the best with what you have right now?"

you paused and looked at him. "what?"

he shifted and took your hand. "my love, you've been through something extremely traumatic. you've told me before that you've been in survival mode for a very long time now. that's not your fault. you can't control it on your own. keeping that in mind, you absolutely are doing your best. you get up and keep going everyday. even though it scares you. you're still kind, and actively striving to be a good person. this rough patch is temporary, everything will be okay. she would be proud of you for everything you've overcome so far."

you bit your lip and looked down, shaking your head. "what if this is 'my best' forever? what if I'm not capable of changing anymore?"

"anyone is capable of change at any given time, my love, you're the one who told me that. I promise you, everything will be okay. and besides," he tugged your hand to guide you onto his lap. "the willingness to change and not just refuse to heal is there."

"but what if it takes too long?"

"it won't. there's no such thing as too long, everyone's healing process is different. and you have me by your side as well, ready to help however you need." he finished his speech with a kiss to your nose and you smiled a bit.

"...thank you, keiji. I love you."

"I love you too, dear. I'll be here as long as you'll let me."

"forever, if that's alright with you?"

"of course, my love." his arms tightened around you.

"can we stay like this for a bit longer?"

"mhmm, you've had a big day. we can cuddle for as long as you need."

you buried your face into the crook of his neck and planted a few kisses. "I love you,"

he kissed the top of your head. "I love you too, sweetheart."

you repeated the phrase over and over again, smiling a little wider each time he returned the sentiment with a kiss to your face.

"can I ask you one more thing?"

"go ahead."

"are you proud of me despite me failing so much this year?"

"I'm so proud of you, baby. nothing would ever change that."

looking up at him with wide eyes, he just smiled and leaned down to kiss your lips. "so proud of my baby. always trying their best. so sweet, so kind, just needs to be loved on a little extra sometimes. all mine."

a happy sigh was released, and with it, most of the tension in your body, so you rested against your boyfriend. "all yours."

you felt a lot better now. not perfect, and still uncertain about some things, but at least with akaashi there you knew you didn't have to go it alone.

~BONUS SCENE~

after a while of cuddling in bed, a thought hit you and you shot up, obviously in a clearer, less fuzzy state of mind.

"love, what were all those bags you had earlier? did you stop somewhere before you came?"

his eyes widened a bit and a blush spread over his cheeks. "yes and no. uh... before you called, I was actually picking us up some food and other things for a stay-in date night. I was planning on surprising you today."

you could have burst into tears again at how cute his confession was. "keijiiiii, you're so sweet!" you ran your fingers through his hair a bit and he melted into the touch. "what a sweet boy I have," you cooed.

he made a noise of protest and you giggled. "can we go see what you bought? please?"

he nodded and smiled at you. he was so glad you seemed to be in better spirits now. there wasn't anything akaashi keiji wouldn't do to see you happy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

this was literally just me projecting holy shit. that was really a look inside my brain, wow. but anon I hope you enjoyed it!! and I hope it was worth the wait, I'm so so so so sorry it took so long. this is the first thing I've managed to write in a while (and I wrote this all in one sitting!!). But the ask was very therapeutic for me, I really need this type of validation :'D

[poetryinsilence]

Oceans and Engines (part I)

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female!Reader

part I | part II | part III | part IV | part V

A/n: It's October so you know what that means! ✨Whumptober✨ Fluff to Angst fic. This is a love letter; signed, sealed, and undelivered with unsaid things to no one in particular. I wanted to make myself cry because life got me in a chokehold. And what better way to do this than write a fic that takes away -1hp with every word written. This is a full-on SOBFEST, so, enjoy :) I wanna apologize beforehand because there are just so, so many metaphors and ocean-themed and that's on me :')

Summary: So what if you've found the right person; so delicate with love that he could run his fingers lightly on your face and you would burst into flame? But what if he’s also the wrong person, one that doesn’t put up a fight and runs away? Loving Robert Floyd felt so easy, yet hurts so much.

Wc: 2,290

His breath felt heavy in his chest, tightening with each inhale he took and exhaled with a shaky sigh. Hands sweaty as he wipes it away with the fabric of his pant legs and swaps between what's clutched in his hand. He got on one knee in front of a crowd of party people and drunkards at The Hard Deck as his trembling voice asks:

“I love you from the moment you walk into this bar, and I will always and forever love you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

The gathered crowd gasps at the scene in front of their eyes; you could hear a pin drop at this moment as they await your answer. You were stunned by this sudden proposal proposed by your boyfriend; eyes gazed into yours with affection and adoration. A few strands of his golden hair curl just above his cerulean blue eyes- hiding behind big gold-rimmed glasses. His boyish grin radiates warmth, but his affection cannot penetrate your heart because you know that you are undeserving of taking his last name and starting your own family with him for the rest of your life. You do not deserve his unconditional love because, to you, he’s not the love of your life.

Minutes seem to slow down at the very moment when your eyes travel to the entrance of The Hard Deck, and there he stands tall and upright, with his wire-framed glasses shaped perfectly on his pretty face, just as you remembered it. He gave you a soft smile and a nod. The light behind his ocean eyes flickered with a twinge of sadness, but he knew it was what he must do.

The swarm of people crowds this beautiful moment; he’s the only one that stands out and captures your attention. Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd. He was once your dream. A story of the future that you had, but the pages crisped and torn without knowing what the end truly holds—the one true love that entangles with your soul. And the one that also slipped away.

———

You decided you needed a change of pace from the small town you once grew up in, but now it's just a place blended into one giant shade of monotonous grey. Its cultivation in prime time is long gone and people who remain there either moved away to find a better future for themselves; or are just halfway through death’s door.

That’s when you wanted a clean slate; at the age of 24, to cut out the suffocation and the repetition of your old, stuck-up job. Where else would you rather be other than California? The literal opposite of your childhood town. A place where the heart of the city and its people are, well, alive!

You sat on the beach with that sweltering sun beaming down at you; the grainy sand cradles your feet. You wonder when was the last time you ever felt this feeling of hope and excitement spilling out from your core.

As the hues of the sky entwined with the ocean at the horizon in a sunny shade of orange, the waves draped along the shoreline one moment and pulled back the next, leaving a brief imprint of their existence. Eyes drooped closed as you listened to the crescendo waves ripple in tempo until a sudden searing pain smacked dead across your arm and the backsplash of rough sand splattered across your face.

"Oh God, I-I-I'm so sorry. I-It's my fault! The ball slipped out of my grasp and-and are you alright?" A panic and concern in his trembling voice. You look up to see a black silhouette blocked out by the sun; the shape of his outline appears lanky— hunchback with his shoulders rolled forward.

He crouched down to inspect the damage he had done to your arm. Now in full view, you see his features; eyes wide and filled with blue mimicking the vast ocean, his hair slick back with hair gel or sweat— maybe a mixture of both— along with an old school wire-rimmed glasses perched on the tip of his nose and tightly fitted with a saffron colored shirt. His lips are pursed together as worry has taken over his face.

The pain in your arm no longer matters when you catch sight of his gaze. He softly smiles at you, and without missing a beat like the waves pushing against the shore- everything about him pours right into your world. The warmest blue eyes and that innocent, boyish smile— you drink it in. And he does the same. Take in your deep-set eyes, trailing down to the top of your nose and lingering on your bitten red lips. You felt intoxicated simply from just one look; the butterflies in your stomach threatened to escape and flutter out to the world, embarrassingly exposing yourself.

He opens his mouth to speak before getting cut off by distant shouting. “Got your foot stuck in the sand? What’s taking so long?” A handsome man, flexed with washboard abs and flocks of blondes. He yells out. He’s good-looking, you’ll admit it that much, but his lack of mannerisms took a toll on you. If he wiped that cocky-ass grin and pretentious personality off his overconfident face, maybe you might just tolerate him.

“I-I think she’s injured! I’ll take her to Penny’s. You guys go on ahead!” He swoops up the football and launches it in one full motion. What surprised you was your underestimation of his physique when he swung the football back to his teammates across the beach with a rough estimation of 30 feet apart. If you weren’t impressed by him before, you sure are now.

He turns back with his brows knitted together. “Let’s get that iced before it gets any worse for you.” He helps you up on your feet and offers support on your elbow. When his touch grazes your arm, the heat of his fingertips lingers and sends a shock of warmth down your spine. Goosebumps light their way on your arm, and you hope he hadn’t noticed as he guides you across the beach to a homey-looking bar with ‘The Hard Deck’ inscribed on the front. He pushed his way in and worked around before seating you on the bar stool.

“Seems like you know your way around here.” You broke the silence with curiosity, as he rummaged around behind all the beer taps. You glance around, taking in the sight of this shack; rows of cups decorated and hanging low from the ceiling, and a piano sits isolated on the opposite side of the bar while the jukebox plays a slow, sultry tune in the background.

It's unusually quiet for a bar, with barely any patrons or servers in the early afternoon. You listen loosely to "I’m in the mood for love" and think to yourself about the irony of this situation. Sure, you just met this guy approximately 15 minutes ago. But he's also the first person you’ve actually had a proper conversion (kind of) in the state of California, where you’re a million miles away from where you came from, and yet, there’s something unique and different about him but can’t quite put it on a canvas.

He whips back around with a bag of ice ready in his hands and treats it gently on your already purple bruise. He frowns. “I um, I-I just come here quite often. I don’t drink, but um- the guys outside hang around quite a lot, so I usually just join them.”

He pursed his lips together again, wondering if he had said the right thing. The icy coolness seeps across your injury and follows up your fingertips, but this arctic temperature could not calm the flush spreading along your cheeks.

His posture slumps, leaning on one hip and still hunched— making himself smaller than the space he’s occupied, but correct himself once he sees you observing his every move. You can’t help but chuckle.

“It’s probably rude of me that um- that I haven’t introduced myself.” He sheepishly pushed up his glasses, “I’m Robert, Robert Floyd. But you can call me Bob. That's what everyone calls me anyway. But also, that is kind of my name.” Bob mumbles on, reaching out his hand for you to reciprocate the handshake, but was immediately taken back by him.

“Oh, sorry…I didn’t- that was your injured arm.” He casually collides his palm back and forth with the side of his shorts before reaching out. You gladly accept the gesture and, in turn, unveil your name. His lips softly repeat your own back to you; in slow syllables, causing your heart to skip a beat. Or possibly just stop beating all at once.

“I think that should be my line since you’re the one that’s helping me. Well, cause the damage and then patch me up.” you jest but noticed the colour drained from his face. You shook your head and wanted to tell him you were joking. But he interjects,

"I-I-I am really, really sorry about that. It's unusually clumsy of me and-and—" fingers fiddling in anxiousness, his chest rises. With a heavy sigh, he opens up again. "Can I buy you a drink as-as an apology and to make it up to you?"

Bob swallows, awkwardly looking down at his shuffling feet against the hardwood floor, waiting nervously for your answer. You can almost see the thoughts in his head, screaming out: 'Is she going to reject me? Am I being too straightforward?' as you hold in a giggle.

"Yes, I would like that very much" a beat, "and...apology accepted." 

Bob's shoulders relaxed, and his face beamed with relief and delight. He hadn't noticed the breath he held in with his mind fully preoccupied with the thought of your rejection and possibly resentment for his own little football mistake. But he felt grateful it gave him an opportunity to have the courage to talk to you. 

He noticed; you sat by the shoreline, mesmerised by the twinkle of ocean waves, attentive to the sound of nature clashing and contemplating. He wondered what you were thinking, what you were feeling. He wanted to peek inside and see. The mellow breeze blew past you, strands of hair caught across your face as you tucked them behind your ear with your delicate finger, and a few locks weaved freely, where he thought they were radiating in the sunlight. His soul was screaming at his feet to come up to you and strike up a conversation, yet in his gut, he knew he wouldn't have the bravery to be able to keep you around. But all it took was one brawny pass from Hangman, and an accidental slip-up sends Bob landing at your feet as the fates have it.

Conversations flow effortlessly between you and Bob. How he was growing up, living off his family’s ranch on the outskirts of Texas, where he helped raise cattle and sheeps with his father. He remembers every Saturday, his mother would make him omelettes with an extra side of buttermilk pancakes and explained that's his favourite. His eyes twinkle with childish joy as he runs through his nostalgia, and you laugh along when he exaggerates the motion of hands, so immersed in his stories that made you wish you had witnessed it too. In return, you shared your side of the story.

Little by little at first; then all at once, you spilt them out. You’ve never met someone that listened to your life story as intently as him before. Most people you’ve met quickly brush you off as sensitive or overreacting, but Bob, he listens. He laughs along with you at the parts that made you happy and frowned at the memories you lived through that made your eyes wet. He understands how lonely you felt, living in a repeated cycle, but you’ve always looked on the brighter side of life. A life that’s filled with nothing but love, and he hoped that he could be a part of it someday.

Aviators started to roll into The Hard Deck, and that’s when you both knew it was your cue to leave. Bob insisted on walking you home, but you politely declined and reassured him you lived close by. That it’s perfectly safe to walk home while the sun is still up. Before he leaves, he turns and blinks at you, debating something inside his head but decides to ask anyway.

“C-can I see you again? I hope this isn’t too much, but I want to um- talk to you again. I uh- Oh, I work nearby- I-I’m a naval officer, like one of those aviators, well, a lieutenant. Actually, a weapon system officer, w-which is-“ he sealed his lips together to stop himself from babbling on any further embarrassment. But you find his reaction rather cute.

“I knew you were special,” you whispered inaudibly to yourself.

“What?”

“Nothing…Um, of course! I’d love to meet you again.” You flashed a toothy smile in response.

Bob instantly melts into your grin, and the word ‘love’ echoes inside his head. He never had anyone use the word ‘love’ to him before, not in a genuine way. He heard his teammates use it in the context of things like 'Hangman loves the feeling of the need for speed' or 'Rooster loves to beat the shit out of Hangman when he steps out of line.' All of these were in the context of things. But hearing in your silky voice, it’s something he never learned until now. That the word ‘love’ has such a powerful feeling— this intense warmth he never wants to let go of and one he can’t bear to lose.

[afaramir]

hi abby!! you love talking abt your fics? well, as it happens, i LOVE listening to people talk abt their fics *high-fives you* so hereee u go: 8, 17, 23, 24, 33 and 40 :)

hiiii ria thank you <333 [high fives you back] this is a beautiful synergy we are living...sorry this took me several days i just kept not having a shareable last line. for every we're so back there is always an it's so over. we're here now and that's what matters LOL

8. share the last line that you wrote

you have kept me waiting, my lord steward, she says when his footsteps stop, his reflection hovering just out of reach of her mirror.

well this is NOT umbar fic OR condolences congratulations. one day i will learn to finish one thing before i start another. but it is set in a slightly alternate version of the same reality. this is the crazy forty years later everyone lives au where aragorn is king and denethor is his steward and finduilas is actually the one running the place. it’s just an excuse for me to write “what if we made our healthy loving political marriage a messier and more political v-shape because you just HAD to officially get back together with your situationship from when you were 25 and oh he just HAPPENS to be the king.” they are shockingly functional about it (i do not know if i could call it healthy. but it is Incredibly High-Functioning and They Are Having Fun. so who am i to stop them!). conceptually/vibes-wise this is the result of my mind stirring around "their wives know the steward serves the king, and sometimes that goes beyond matters of state" (like truly...WHOA boy. that knocked me flat. @bretwalda-lamnguin i WILL respond to that post eventually i have things to say they just have to marinate a little longer) + regent!finduilas as a concept and an Energy + finduilas's general pure concentrated "i can fix him" beam + also going on a tangent off of anna @potatoesandsunshine's "our marriage is already bad enough what if we ruined someone else's life with it" theory. and this came out.

17. what is your favourite trope to write

NAMES AND TITLES AND MANNERS OF ADDRESS BABY!!! that shit is like drugs for me. whenever i'm messing around with it i feel like i am at the very height of caring about and understanding my own work i KNOW that sounds obnoxious as hell but like. aghhhhh. im in there THINKING. about specifically when and where and how one manner of address might shift to another and whether that is different inside the narration and out loud and what each name and title means in which situation. yeah im normal about hierarchies why do you ask.

23. where do you usually write

my beloved local coffeeshop down the street from my apartment! i am there as i write this. my regular barista often makes fun of me bc he sees me running for the train in the morning bc i am perpetually late for work. unfortunately the earliest i can make it out of the house in the evening is 7 and they close at 9 but it’s a good two hours. then it’s off to my friends’ apartment (they’re my downstairs neighbours i basically also live there) for like another two hours. yeah i do this every day. i am aware i am insane but it is the only way i get anything done.

24. which fic do you think is your funniest

hmm. i feel like im not often intending to be particularly funny. wait no its definitely open arms. “sokka, panicking: you like guys!” is literally in the description. i wrote it bc of a shitpost. WOW that is possibly the throwback of all time. that’s like the first fic i wrote back when i started getting really Good at writing because i was wildly hyperfixated on avatar and it was covid and i wrote 100k in a year. well well well

33. which of your fic titles is your favourite

ok i did do this one but im gonna give a runner up. TO THE VERY DEAR MEMORY OF [ ] is a personal fave for sure bc it's. idk nontraditional? well it's based off of this image and it took me a long time of testing different things before i figured out a way to appropriately represent that erasure of the name on the headstone by the water...the sensation that there Used to be something there, that there was Supposed to be something there, but all that is left is the water. and i'm very pleased by the effect of the brackets and how it looks on the ao3 page. it just brings me a lot of joy to let myself kind of fuck around and do whatever i think is cool. im trying so so so hard to internalize "get weird with it!" and its the baby steps out here.

40. pick one of your fics and share a quote to go with it (not a quote from the fic, but an outside quote that fits)

ooh ok a throwback. race for a hurricane (speaking of the titles/names/manners of address trope this is my BEST execution of it) + "the french have a saying: the fate of glass is to break. maybe the fate of spies is to just fade away. but with any luck, we leave something behind" -spectre, 2015. im getting that last line tattooed someday.

fic writer asks

[accidentalslayer]

Word Count: 1,952

Warnings: N/A for this chapter. Future chapters will explore darker elements, though

Author's Notes: New project, who dis?? Recently fandom-switched to Vampire Diaries/Originals & was inspired to write a little piece about two OCs interacting at the Mystic Grill.

From there on, the plot took hold of my soul, and now I'm writing a fic. Again. Lol.

Pairing: Yandere!Elijah & Klaus Mikaelson x Fem!Reader (eventually)

Summary: Vincent Webb returns to Mystic Falls, Virginia after many years of avoiding his hometown. He decides to catch up with an old flame at the Grill only to be interrupted by his high school arch-nemesis: Richard Lockwood. How awkward for Vince! 🤣

Recommended Song: "Half of my Hometown" by: Kelsea Ballerini

Chapter One: The Prodigal Son

[October 1st, 1991

Mystic Falls, Virginia]

It hadn't changed. Not one bit. More than 5 years had passed without Vincent Webb, yet Mystic Falls was the same shit hole as it'd been on the day he'd skipped town. 'Like a mosquito caught in amber', he mused to himself, a grimace on his face, 'Or something else that refuses to change despite the march of time'. God was not without his keen sense of irony when he made this place, it seemed, and Vincent was glad that he had left right after graduating from MFHS. Glad that he'd gotten out of Virginia to explore the world. Away from any monster that went bump in the night...

But now, fate had brought him back to Mystic Falls.

The first thing Vincent did when he'd crossed the town line was visit the cemetery where his father laid and took a piss on the old man's tombstone. The second thing he did (immediately afterward) was shoot off a text: 'Hey, you free tonight? Meet you at our usual spot, be there in 30 minutes,' to his ex-girlfriend, Grace. The only woman to have ever stolen his heart or gotten him to consider a future in driving a family minivan around. That's how he'd ended up here at the Grill, tucked away within its backmost lobby, nursing a scotch past twelve. Observing his high-school nemesis, Richard Lockwood, as he flirted shamelessly in front of Carol Lockwood with their young, pretty waitress two booths over. No, some things never changed in Mystic Falls.

Footsteps approached his table. A pair of heels judging from the sound of their clacking on the polished wood floor. His eyes flicked downward to spy an all-too-familiar toe ring that he'd once bought for the girl that he'd loved as a teenager. Grace had arrived. And with her arrival, the ache of nostalgia in his chest. Vincent took a gulp of his drink to steady his nerves as she slid into the seat opposite of him.

"You know," he said, tone casual, "I thought Rich was always gonna end up with that Forbes chick. Not Carol. Remember how annoying they were in sophomore year making out during gym? Blech!! But, I guess he still likes blondes. Carol, though? Awful."

Grace rolled her sapphire eyes, "It's been YEARS, Vince, and /this/ is what you wanna lead with??? Not: 'Gee golly, Grace! I'm sorry for disappearing on you when you needed me, let me clarify what happened the night I literally vanished without a trace so I can take the years of STRESS I caused you off your shoulders! Forgive me, I'm a stupid fucking piece of shit, Grace'-"

"Grace-"

His ex's voice rose above his own, "-Grace, I know I don't deserve your forgiveness or your understanding. I'm so, so, so, sooooo very lucky that you're even talking to me right now! Grace, I'm going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, Grace-"

"Gracey-"

"-'Gracey', WHAT, Vincent?!"

Vincent looked pained when he answered her, regret etched in every wrinkle, and crease on his brow:

"You're right. I'm a piece of shit, Grace. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you the way I did back then. It's just...some family stuff happened after the accident. And I couldn't talk about it to anyone at the time. I didn't mean to hurt you. Honest truth, that wasn't my intention."

Deep, oceanic blues narrowed upon him. Grace stared at Vincent for a few breathless moments (skeptically, silently) as if attempting to bore a hole through his soul by sheer force of will.

"UGH, I can't stay mad at you!" she relented in a sudden huff, "I'm just glad you're alive. You have no clue how worried I was about you! We were all worried about you! There was a rumor that you'd died, Vince. That some kind of animal had gotten you out in the woods!"

A shadow fell over Vincent's face. He mumbled another apology to his ex, "Grace, I mean it. I'm sorry. I really truly am..."

"That's alright, Vince. It's water under the bridge now," she replied, grabbing the Grill's menu that lay on the table between them and browsing the selections, "Besides, you're going to buy me ALL the expensive booze I want tonight, anyways."

"Wait, I'm gonna WHAT??"

Grace snickered mischievously, then imitated his casual tone from before, "Payback, ya know? It's a thirsty bitch, Vince."

When Vincent met Grace Baker, it was freshman year of high school, and he'd just gotten swirlied by Logan Fell. While he was drying his hair with a paper towel in the men's bathroom, Grace had wandered out of its corner stall, gripping a pint of (half-drunk) Jack Daniels. Wearing that same cheeky grin she was wearing now, Grace offered him some, mentioning that: 'nerds like them had to stick together'. Tonight, the two of them were completing an ancient circle. This time around, it was Vincent's turn to buy the drinks.

Grace made his wallet hurt. She chose every ale and IPA off the reserve menu, then moved onto taking shots. Vincent tried to enjoy the moment, knowing full well that he was going to regret it all tomorrow. One way or another.

Their table piled up quickly with empty glasses, cups, and pitchers. As it did, their conversation grew more nostalgic. Both of them blamed it on the quality of the liquor.

"They hired a better fucking bartender since I've been gone! Do you remember the shit that David used to make for us back in the day?"

"Oh yeah!! We called it, uhhhh, "Witch's Brew" or something like that, right? It tasted so nasty but man did it fuck us up! Jodie could NOT hold that stuff down, though. Remember when she puked all over Mrs. Bennett's rug after Prom Party at the Grill?? And then we had to clean it up before she got home?"

"How could I forget?! Hahaha! I'm still scrubbing burger chunks out of my memory to this day!"

"Gross."

Their conversation grew more sentimental. They blamed it on how long it had been since either of them talked...

"You know, you were the only one back then who I could ever really be myself around. You just got me somehow. It was like we were...connected or something. Oh my God, that sounds corny as all fuck now that I say it, hahaha!"

"No, no, no, noooo! Not corny. Not corny for even a minute. Grace, I felt the same way. I didn't have to pretend around you. I could just be myself..."

"Same! We had our own language."

"Pig Latin. We used to make Mr. Brown SO MAD when he couldn't read our notes to the class. He was such a nosey prick back then!"

"Haha, yeah!! Yeah, he fucking was!! Remember when you literally ate your detention slip in front of him and he nearly had an aneurysm?! The little vein in his forehead was popping out, hahaha!!"

"Is Mr. Brown still teaching?"

"Naaahhh. Fired for taking pictures of his female students."

"Ha! Called it. I knew that guy was a creep!"

Their conversation grew more dangerous. They'd both blame it on themselves (and on each other) in the morning. One of them would swear that it had never happened at all.

"Our first date: do you remember where you took me??"

"Oh man, putting me on the spot. Uuuuhh, it was Fell's Church. We went to Fell's Church because I thought I was being edgy and cool. But you. You, uhhh, you said-"

"-I said the place smelt like raw ass so we left. We went to Grove Hill afterward. To that antique Bed and Breakfast for coffee."

"Yeah! Oh jeeze, that wasn't my best moment. It was the first date I'd ever had. I didn't know what girls wanted..."

"Get out!! Really?!"

"Serious as daylight."

"Do you ever...regret it? Even just a tiny bit? Your first date being with me? I-I know how much you loved Mercy-"

"I would've married you. I would've married you right after graduation."

"Oh..."

"Things just got in the way. Please, understand I never wanted to-"

Grace flinched. The warmth and approachability she'd possessed only a moment ago evaporated, replaced by a mask of ice. A practiced smile that didn't quite reach her eyes curved across her red lips. She put down her drink (a little forcefully on the table), feigning indifference while she spoke. But it was obvious that she wasn't happy with his heart-felt confession one bit.

"Look, Vincent," Grace said, shrugging, "We're all grown up now. We've made our own choices. You don't have to justify yourself to me, okay? Really. You don't! It's been YEARS since high school. As much as I miss it, I've moved on from ruminating about what could've been. And this surprise visit has been great, but... I really just want to get this over with so we can go back to our own lives. I'm missing Movie Night with my kids."

It was Vincent's turn to flinch now. Suddenly, he felt old. Like somehow, life had passed him by in the span of a blink.

"K-kids? You have kids??" He croaked, "When did that happen? How many do you...?"

Grace laughed, "Very first year into college! How scandalous, right?? Aaaand I've got two; an older son and a daughter. Alexander and Dawn. Dawn just had her birthday a couple of days ago. It was Beauty and the Beast themed. She was dressed up as Belle. She's been in a "princess everything" phase ever since she watched Sleeping Beauty. My son, though? He just really likes playing Street Fighter."

"Who's the-"

Vincent's mouth seemed to have trouble forming the words despite his best efforts. He pressed on valiantly, though...

"-the, ya know? The uh, father? Is he...?"

Grace flattened instantly. She sighed, rubbing at her forehead as if she had a big headache, "Just tell me why you're here, Vince. Tell me why you'd come back to Mystic Falls after all these years?? You haven't said a word to me since graduation! No, since before the accident! And you decide to appear tonight? Out of the blue? Just...randomly for shits and giggles? No, no. What's really going on, Vin-"

Two voices sliced through Grace's question and stole the moment:

"It's Vincent Webb!!"

"My, my! It IS! And with Grace Baker too!"

Both Vincent and Grace cringed as soon as they heard the sound. Memories flooded back to their previous lives in high school. And the humiliation they'd suffered together at the hands of the ones who'd just interrupted them; Richard Lockwood and his (now) wife, Carol Lockwood. Grace stood up immediately to leave. Vincent tried his best to follow suit but was stopped when Rich sat down in the empty space next to him, blocking off his escape route and locking him into the booth until Rich decided otherwise. Carol did the same with Grace.

"Well, I'll be damned!" Rich exclaimed, flashing a toothy smile at Vincent, "Aren't you a blast from the past?! I haven't seen you around my town in YEARS! And Grace, lovely to see you as always. How are your little ones doing?? What about that rambunctious son of yours?"

Carol laughed and subtly displayed the wedding ring she wore as she did so, "Oh, it's just like high school again! Isn't it, Rich?"

"Indeed," Rich agreed all too readily, "except I'm not giving this ol' boy here a flushie, hahaha! No, I kid, though. This man took his licks like a man! Isn't that right, Vince?".

Grace and Vincent exchanged helpless, annoyed glances between each other...

It was going to be a long night.

[ryozaki21]

the side character - l.mk

you see, people come and go all the time, but the way they leave always stays.

summary: jack and rose. bella and edward. romeo and juliet. it was a common knowledge that everyone's have their own partner in their life story. but here you are. the side character in mark's tragic lovestory. just another girl he had to go through. you hated to admit it but you're probably just a chapter in his book. after all, who cared for lavender brown when ron weasley was written for hermione granger?

genre: angst, lil fluff, full length fic, mark x reader

warnings: curse words, a long one, lots of timeskips

wc: 10.5k

an: this fic is originally for haechan but i figured that the character fits mark more so i had to make some changes!! also this one's a ride-- and it's a new story !! hope u guys enjoy it <3

•••••

you met him back in june. and the way you met for the first time wasn't your favourite. its safe to say that you two didn't get off the right foot.

you remember it like it was the back of your hands, how you met mark lee. it was a regular tuesday, it was rather cloudy. no signs of rain tho, and as the news said, pack your umbrella because weather can be a bitch sometimes.

you parked your lexus that your mom had gifted you when you turned 20 at the same spot you did for the past two years you've been driving it to school.

university was okay, you're in your last year so that's a plus, but what made your college life great was your friends.

"y/n!" you turn your back too see your friend, jake running towards you as you locked your car.

"here's your coffee, you lazy dog." you gave him the iced americano that he texted you to get him. it was a routine to you, you get up earlier and get ready, sparing time to get coffee at the local coffee shop. so it was fine for him to ask to get him one too. at first. it had been a routine for him also to ask you every single day.

"ey, you keep saying that but you keep buying me still." he said as he sipped his drink, earning a slight elbow in this side from you.

"so. apparently, there's a new kid." jake said as he walked with you through the hallways.

new kid? it's the last year of college, who's in their right mind to move to a different univeristy on the last year?

"that's dumb. we're literally graduating and they still moved schools? what a waste of--"

"oh, sorry!" your coffee almost spilled if you didn't move it up 0.5 earlier before you bumped into someone.

"holy fuck!" the boy almost jumped, avoiding the drink.

"watch it." jake's voice switched, now very stern as he looked at the guy. he put his hands between you and the person in front of you, to avoid any more unwanted contact.

the guy is very unfamiliar, you've not seen him here before. making you think that he might be the new kid.

what struck first to you is his eyes. he looked so good, he looked like.. someone who's really comfortable to be with.

"dude, she bumped me. you two were talking in a busy hallway, and you expect everyone to get out of your way?" one more thing to add, he's mouthy.

"you're being rude, you know." you muttered as you get your posture back.

"i'm not. i'm just saying that your friend here doesn't need to come at my face when you two were wrong." now, his eyes are on you and you watched as his gaze turned almost soft.

"i'm just protecting her-- dude you don't have to be an ass." jake, now standing in between you.

"look--" you pushed jake to the side, "i'm sorry. i'm sorry i bumped into you. now, can we go?" you asked.

he looked at you for what you felt like was a hot minute, before rolling his eyes and walking pass you two.

"what a fucking prick." jake continued to stare at the guy as you two continued to walk, turning his head as the guy disappeared.

"hey, he's right. we bumped into him."

"are you defending him?" jake now looking at you with exaggerated disbelief in his face.

"stop, you know we were wrong." you lightly slapped his arms.

"he doesn't have to be an ass about it." jake then took another sip as you two turned into the corner.

"plus i feel like he's just having a bad day-- its hard being a new student." you felt like you're justifying the guy's rude actions but you couldn't help it. you can't find a reason why, aswell. just-- he's just right.

"i know what this is." jake stopped walking, making you halt aswell. jake then. turned to you, and of course, in reflex you turned your body towards him.

"what?"

"you find him cute, right?" jake accusing you, making you furrow your brows and laugh. you shook your head as you walked.

"i guess he was fine."

*

the second time you met mark lee, its was a rather better interaction. you had stayed behind for one of your classes because your professor had a problem with your paper.

"it's really amazing, the way your mind works, y/n. don't get me wrong, you had the correct answer." your professor, flipping the pages of your paper.

"then what's the problem, mr. tan?" you're confused, as you sat in the first row seat in front of his desk.

"the way you solved it." he looked up at you and showed you the paper which had your written formula and solution.

you're a very impatient person, which why you would always find a faster way to do stuff. specially in academics, if you're really having a hard time with the formula that was given, you'll find another that also works, but faster.

"look, mr. tan. the important thing is i got it right, i just found the given formula---"

"mr. tan! oh, thank god you're still here." large footsteps filled the classroom, as a familiar voice entered.

and as you expected, the guy who bumped into you the other day walked inside. his strides were large, and his movements were panicky. i guess he really wanted to meet mr. tan.

"lee mark, be glad y/n held me up." your professor then shuffled in his desk, leaving you and mark, you think his name is, to notice each other's presence.

"hey." you initiated, which mark just nods without looking.

it rubbed you the wrong way, how he refused to even say 'hey' to you. was that incident the other day such a big deal? or is he just this distant with people he's not close with?

honestly, it shouldn't even matter. he's just a random guy. it shouldn't bother you the way it's bothering you right now.

you took a deep breath, "mr. tan, i think i should go. if you have a problem with my paper then it's fine." you gathered all your things and stood up.

you were about to step outside the room when suddenly your name was called.

"y/n, wait up." mark finished his talk with mr. tan when he suddenly called your name.

you stopped in your tracks, as you about to turn around he's already in front of you.

"uh-- i," he looked down swiftly, gathering his thoughts and looked up at you again.

"what?" you asked.

"i was thinking we should leave together." he blurted out rather quickly, before turning around quickly and started walking.

this confused you, so you took quick steps to follow him. "hey-- hey! can you walk slower?"

"oh, shoot, sorry." he stopped, waiting for you to take a few strides until you catch up.

"let's go-- but please step a little smaller, i've got short legs." you joked, hoping to lift the mood.

you can see him smiling but quickly hiding it, as he walked slower this time to match yours.

"so.. uh what's up?" you can't tell if you're just socially awkward, or its because he intimidated you. you're close to admitting that you're both.

"nothing.. honestly-- i just wanted to say sorry for the last time. i was a dick to you and your friend" he scratched the back of his neck as you two walked.

"it's okay. i mean, it is our fault so.." you shrugged your shoulders,

"still, i shouldn't have been such an ass."

"yeah.. wait why are you in such a bad mood tho?" you asked. honestly that was the thing that confuses you, is how he's so upset about the other day and then did a full 180 today being all apolegetic and stuff.

"for starters, i'm a new student here so it's.. kind of hard, you know, settling in a whole new different environment when you're used to your old life." suddenly he turned serious, as if he's thinking about something.

"i know. that's also what i thought. glad you cleared it up tho, at least i could cross out the asshole in front of your name." you smirked at him which he just chuckled in response.

"so, uh i'll go ahead. see you around, y/n."

"see you."

--

after that, your meetings with mark lee become frequent, as he asked you things about the university. you two would spend lunch, together with jake. jake hesitated at first, still holding grudges on the time he and mark had a little misunderstanding. but all ends well after three days of having mark around.

"dude-- so you're like very popular back in your school?" jake asked mark, before shoving his burger into his mouth.

"eat slowly, stupid." you noticed there's crumbs of the burger bread on jake's chin. you grabbed a tissue and wiped it off.

mark saw that, his eyes followed your hands when wiping jake's mouth. he doesn't know why but he found your gesture so admirable. how you take care of other people seems so sweet to him.

"if i wasn't on the volleyball team i wouldn't be." mark answered after looking away.

"that's why you were talking to mr. tan? you're signing up for try outs?" you looked at him after folding the used tissue and tossing it to the near trash bin.

"yeah, but because of my records at my previous school-- i didn't have to go through tryouts." he said, a hint of arrogance in his voice.

"so you're that good, huh?" you teased, raising a brow at him.

"i mean, if you put it that way..." he tilts his head, smirking at you which you just responded with shaking your head.

the little conversation you shared cut off early, when you heard jake coughing.

"you little shit, i said eat slowly!" you panicked, grabbing the water bottle that was on the table and quickly gave it to jake. you caressed his back as he was drinking, concern filled your eyes as you watched your friend recover.

this sight had mark in awe. the way you quickly reacted to jake almost-- well, i guess-- dying, the panic in your eyes as you struggled to open the water bottle, and the pure care as you watched jake drink. his mind filled with you-- the way you are.

and then it turned into worry, when he thought that there might be something with you and jake. is that why you're so thoughtful about him? why you two are always together?

he's nervous to admit, but he did feel uneasy.

no, mark, stop it. he told himself. he should not be thinking like this. maybe he just missed having someone to take care of him. that must be it. that should be it.

-

days turned to weeks, and before you know it its been a whole month since mark started hanging out with you guys. and you can tell, he's getting more comfortable.

"this fucking vending machine sucks." mark, pissed at the school's vending machine. he stepped backwards and from his posture, you knew what he was about to do.

"do not!" you quickly grabbed his arm and pull him, "do not kick the vending machine, mark. maybe that's why it keeps eating your money, dumbass." you said and pushed him slightly to the side.

"yeah- try it, y/n. waste your money on that god damn vending machine." he dared, crossing his arms.

and as he expected. the vending machine did not give you anything but it took your money.

"what the fuck?! this shit is rigged." you tapped the sides of the machine, before trying to shake it.

"are you trying to shake a machine thats three times bigger than you? and here i thought you were smart."

"--but i want that kitkat." you whispered, almost pouting, mouth watering at the sught of the candy bar displayed.

"not gonna happen." mark then pulled you and started walking. he grabbed your tote bag full of books you had borrowed from the library. it was a normal thing for him to do, carry your things. he said something about 'your spaghetti arms can't carry weight bigger than an aquaflask.' which of course, is a flat out lie because you've been borrowing the same amount of books for years and jake didn't budge and offer to carry it so you had to carry it yourself. but mark being mark, he had every excuse just to do what he wants.

maybe it was his chivalry, or maybe just the way he talked. everything about him seemed so.. comfortable. he's someone you feel like you can trust-- and that's a big deal for you, because you had trust issues and you just met the guy for a month and you feel like you can tell him your deepest secret.

as you opened your car, you turned around to face mark and asked for your things. which of course, he didn't give it, instead he walked pass you and put the books inside your car himself.

"text me when you get home." he then stooped down to your level and slowly, his hands slowly touched something under your eyes.

his eyes are fixtated on whatever he's doing. while yours are looking at him. his dark brown eyes, down to his nose, and then his lips. the distance between your faces were too close. you can feel his breath fanning over your chin. this is really-- ah, shit.

"eyelash." he leaned back, showing you his finger which in fact, had a strand of your eyelash. that's when you were reminded to breathe.

"yeah-- sure, whatever." you quickly jumped inside your car and closed the door, allowing your self to calm down. you looked at your left, and there you can see a confused mark staring from your car window.

you just waved you hand goodbye at him, before starting the engine. you looked at the rear mirror to see mark's figure slowly disappear when you drove.

okay, y/n, what was that? you asked yourself. are you flustered? you looked at yourself in the rear mirror, and hell, you were redder than the devil himself. this is not good.

as you hit the breaks, some of your books in the passenger seat fell out of the tote bag. you looked at it and there's something you noticed.

a kitkat bar, with a note -- 'drive safe, -m'

your lips parted. you stared at it for what feels like forever and that's when you realized, you're fucked.

-

"jake i think i'm gonna stay at the library." you nudged at jake as you two got up from your desk.

jake looked at you, "you're not gonna have lunch?"

"i came packed," you tap on your bag, pertaining that you had a pack of lunch ready and you're just gonna eat in the library.

"oh-- that's new. okay, i'll tell mark." jake seemed to be convinced, as he nods and smiled. you take that as your cue to leave.

the truth is you don't have a packed lunch-- and you don't need to go to the library. you just need to spend a little less time from mark until this silly little crush goes away. that's what you've decided when you had come to terms that you do have developing feelings for mark and what better way to destroy the tree is to cut it before it even starts to grow.

and that's how you spent almost the whole week. avoiding talking to mark at all costs, making excuses for jake to hangout with mark without you, which you're glad jake doesn't ask questions-- well at least, you thought.

"are you avoiding me, or mark?" jake said when he found you at the school fountain, eating a sandwich alone.

you rolled your eyes, "now, why would i avoid you?"

and it's too late to realize that you said the wrong thing because,

"so you're avoiding mark?" jake now sitting beside you.

you stared at him, contemplating to tell everything because again, he is your best friend. if the situation is different and you two hadn't gotten close with mark, you'd spill everything the day you knew. but jake and mark had grown close, so its a bit complicated.

"no, why would i?" you looked ahead, avoiding his judgemental stares as jake examined your face.

"you suck at lying, y/n."

you closed your eyes, you took a deep breath. of course he'll know when you're lying.

"fine. i am avoiding mark." you gave up, looking at jake with the eyes filled with worry as you confess.

"why? i mean, yeah he's kinda mouthy but he's fun to hangout around. plus he's good at grilling meat so food's not it, maybe because--"

"that's not it, jake. its the opposite."

"what opposite? i don't get-- oh." jake's face turned from confused to suddenly amused, as he smirked at you.

"yeah," the only thing you said when you wait for jake to tease you-- or at least scold you.

instead, he sighed heavily and smiles, "i knew this would happen."

you looked at him, "no, you don't."

"shut up," jake shushed you with his finger made your mouth shut, literally. you slapped it away, of course.

"so how long has it been?"

"have no idea. but i realized it about a week ago." there's no point in lying now, jake knows you from the inside out.

"so what, you'll avoid him until everything goes away?"

"that's the plan."

"well that's a shitty plan." jake chuckled, making you turn to him and hit him.

"what, why?!"

"cuz if its a great plan then why is mark walking towards us now?"

thats when you looked to the left, and as jake said, mark is walking towrds you both but his eyes are fixated on you. you quickly looked away and attempted to stand up.

"and here i am, thinking i'm wrong and you're not avoiding me-- yet you're getting ready to run with the first sight of me." mark's voice was different from usual, this time more serious.

"look, no one's avoiding anyone." you told him, holding onto jake's arm like your life depends on it.

"i think i left something--" jake stood up, but you quickly pull him back down. you can't be left here with mark, for fucks sake you're bad at confrontations!

"sit back down." you sternly said to jake.

"what's happening? did i do something?" mark's voice turned soft, as he stooped down on you since you were sitting and he's tired of looking down.

"nothing, mark. i'm just busy." you almost face palmed yourself with your answer. really, y/n? busy?

"do you really think i'd fall for that?"

"i really think i should go--" jake attempted to walk away but you just held his wrist.

"yeah we should really go. i forgot to get this book from the library." you stood up beside jake.

mark stands up aswell. "did i do something wrong?"

"nothing! nada-- opseo. you're fine, mark-- i just.. we should go." thats when you pulled jake with you and started to walk swiftly.

"you're being unfair, you know?" jake spoke, as he pulled his wrist from you.

"i know-- i just don't know how to manouver around him. you think i enjoy doing this?"

"you're making him believe that he did something horrible to you. that's gonna fuck with his head for sure."

"i know, i'll fix this, don't worry."

--

[13:31pm] you: can we talk?

after almost half an hour deciding on how you should approach mark, you decided to just get straight to the point. you know this is the right thing to do. to explain to him why you're acting so weird around him lately.

jake had said something around, 'its better to get rejected when your feelings are still shallow' and there's not much things you agree on when it comes to jake, but this one seems about right.

sure, maybe you and mark's friendship could be destroyed in the process and it would hurt like a motherfucker, but at least... shit there's no actual upside from this.

before regret even comes around your mind, your phone vibrated.

[13:34pm] mark: that's all i'm asking for. send me ur loc i'll come find you.

here goes nothing.

in the end, you two decided to just meet at the local coffee shop near the university where you get your morning coffees. you arrived early so you just went and find a table for two.

knees shaking, you kept on eyeing the entrance just to see if mark is already here.

you sipped on your iced vanilla latte-- before glancing at the door again and there you see mark, standing tall among others-- looking around. not long after he saw you and his face lits up before actually walking.

"aw, man you already ordered? i said it was my treat toda--"

"i like you. like, a lot."

he froze, his eyes widen and jaw slightly parting, and then his brows furrowed. you're examining every reaction that he made. after what feels like a whole five minutes, he slowly sat down in front of you.

"did i hear you right? you-- you what?" his face screamed confusion, as he's refusing to believe what he just had heard.

"i don't know, okay?! believe me, i'm not the type to develop feelings for someone i met a month ago. even this is weird for me. so just get this over with and say that you don't like me like that." words came out of you naturally without even thinking. you cannot even look at him in the eye. this might be one of the most nerve wracking moments this year for you.

what even surprised you is what he said after that.

"who said i don't like you too?"

--

and here you are, sitting in mark's passenger side waiting for him to get out of the 7/11. he was craving ice cream and you know him, he gets what he wants.

"uh! babe, they're so good, you'll gonna regret not wanting to buy one." he grunts as he entered the car. you rolled your eyes,

"i could always steal that from you." you joked, removing some of his bangs thats almost touching the ice cream that he shoved in his mouth.

"not this one-- it's too good." he moaned, making you chuckle as you pull out your phone to take a picture of him going crazy over some ice cream.

"wish you ate pussy like that." you joked as you typed in your screen. you laughed as you heard mark choking over his ice cream, completely shocked by your bluntness.

"y/n, jesus let me eat my ice cream in peace!"

well, it is safe to say that everything went well after your confession. mark liked you back, and everything goes smoothly after that. you can feel how he changed around you, treating you more like a partner more than a friend.

and that goes on for almost 5 months now. yeah, a lot of time had passed.

are you two officially together? no.

is he your boyfriend? you'd like him to be, but no.

are you exclusive to each other? yes. you never even had a thought about entertaining someone else. mark had proven it aswell, not showing any interest to the many girls that flocks around him.

"i need to leave-- babe. jake just texted me that he's already at the bazaar." you told mark, as you showed your phonescreen to him to show jake's texts.

"tell him to eat shit because i want to be with you more." mark had finished his icecream, now holding your hands while the other steers the wheel.

"baby." you tried to add more authority to your voice but it didn't budge mark at all, instead he just smirked and looked at you.

"you know i get turned on when you use your angry voice, babe." he licked his lip, smirking at you and then looking back at the road.

you hit him lightly, "come on, babe, i'll see you later at jiyeon's, okay?"

"fine. text him and say we'll be there by five."

you looked at mark in the driver seat, holding the steering wheel with his left hand and the other on your thigh.

you wondered, how could you love someone this quickly? yeah, you've had people come and go in your life, but never like this. it's like, you never wanna let go of mark, even tho you don't have anything to hold onto. you just wanna stay with him.

his shirt was oversized as usual, so the fabric showed a little more skin on his collarbone. you saw a glimpse of his tattoo. it's a rose, he said he had it back in highschool when he was dumb and stupid.

"i really like your tattoo." you blurted out.

mark's smile suddenly disappears, as he fixed his shirt to cover it up. it seemed strange, but maybe he just really regretted having a tattoo.

"a stupid decision, i hate it." he said so spiteful, that made you drop the topic.

mark drove you to the food bazaar, and ofcourse, you two shared a lil make out sesh before you actually get off the car.

"hmm, babe as long as i want to eat your face longer, jake's fuming mad and you know he's annoying when he sulks." you leaned away from mark's face, looking at him slowly opening his eyes, lips a bit tinted from your lipstick, as he chased for your lips one more time.

you chuckled, putting your palm flat against his pouty lips. "no. i'll see you later." you get off his lap, and pulled out your mirror as you retouched.

"i hate jake so fucking much." mark whined. you smacked him in his shoulder playfully.

"i'll go ahead-- i'll text you when we're headed to jiyeon's!" you opened the car door while you waved at him. he nodded and gave you a flying kiss which you dodged as a joke and shut his door close.

life is good-- you're with mark, probably the most perfect boy ever, maybe you're biased but he's just really exactly what you wished for.

except for the fact that you have nothing to hold on to.

no label. what keeps you going is the fact that he said he liked you too. that's it.

and for a while, you were fine with it.

--

"that's weird, mark still haven't texted me yet." you looked at your phonescreen for the ninth time, to see if mark had texted.

"you did say that you'll be the one texting when we're on the way to the party." jake, busy stuffing his face with food.

"but he would always-- always text me first. you know that."

"aish, fine. let's go, i'll just finish this," jake then shoved the entire food in his mouth before standing up.

you have no reason to be paranoid, but somehow tonight feels different. your gut tells you to just stay home and not attend the party. you know jiyeon would understand if you called and say you're sick, right?

"on a second thought, maybe i should just stay home." you said as you buckled up in jake's car.

"na-uh. i'm not wasting gas just to drive you home and drive all the way back to jiyeon's place. come on, stop being so weird."

so you did, get to the party. fullpacked, as expected of jiyeon, the school's cheerleader. she's such a sweetheart, honestly. that's why she's almost friends with anyone.

as you entered, your mind was focused on finding mark. you're sure he's here. that's what you guys planned.

you've been trying to call him but no one answers. jake said maybe he's just enjoying the party. you've got nothing to worry about.

and its not like you have the right to know everything about him. afterall, you're not his girlfriend.

"happy birthday!" you greeted jiyeon and gave her a hug.

"aw, i'm glad you could make it!" jiyeon hugged you back.

"yeah-- couldn't miss it, this is like the houseparty of the year."

"well, you know me." jiyeon chuckled.

"have you seen mark?" you can't help but ask, because you're starting to feel weird. you've been here for about twenty minutes now and you still haven't seen him.

"oh yeah, about that, he's here-- actually, he knows some of the friends i have in the other school! they said mark came from their school. so i think he's been hanging out with them." you felt a relief. mark's just hanging out with old friends.

you almost wanted to smack yourself for being too paranoid.

"they're at the back!" jiyeon wandered off to greet other guests, so you took that as a sign to walk towards the backyard.

as you get near, you already heard cheers, laughing and chatting coming from the backyard. there, you saw a small circle which was all unfamiliar to you. people here at the party are all familiar, but these ones aren't.

and the man you've been wanting to see all night, was there, having the time of his life laughing his soul out.

what sparked the most interest in you is the girl beside him. she's so beautiful. beautiful enough to make you worry.

"hey! you found him?" suddenly, jake appears beside you. when he saw where you're looking at, he recognized mark.

"there he is! dude!' jake called out, which you quickly tried to stop him. you blurted out, "don't!"

but its too late. mark looked at your direction, and his smile suddenly disappeared. he looked scared, and then nervous.

"he was with his old friends, jake, you shouldn't have." you said to jake before turning around.

something inside you didn't feel right. the way mark reacted upon seeing you at the party feels weird. it's like he's forgotten about you and was shocked when he saw you.

you were about to go to the other side of the house when your wrist was pulled. "y/n."

mark called you by your name. oh. something you haven't heard for months. usually he calls you 'babe' or 'baby'. maybe not this time.

"hey." you gave him a smile and peeked at his back, seeing the girl he was with, behind him and softly smiling at you.

"hi." she waved shyly, which you replied with a smile aswell.

"uh- y/n, this is ryujin." hesitation in mark's voice was obvious, as he introduced you to the girl.

the girl then offered her hands, which you shook immediately. she was slightly taller than you, medium length hair, and so pretty. what stuck out the most is her fair skin, and red lips. almost like a shade of a rose.

"nice to meet you. i'm mark's.." you got stuck. who are you to him? you didn't know. so you looked at mark and you saw his eyes was filled with nervousness as if he was anticipating what you were gonna say.

"--friend." that's it, that's the right answer. you were his friend. that's what it is. you looked at mark again and you saw him blink, realizing what you just said and taking a sharp breath.

"oh. well, i really want to stay and chat, but i have to pee. markie, where's the bathroom?" ryujin held onto mark's arms, and mark glanced at you before showing ryujin the hallway to the bathroom.

once they got further, thats when you loosen your grip on your drink. your breathing was back to normal and you felt relief.

and then, boom. you felt heartbreak.

who is she? that's the first thing that popped into your mind. you feel like crying, right here, right now. she seemed so important to him. more than you. and you wanted to ask him, yell at him, fuck, but you can't. because you're nothing to him.

the music got loud, that's when you snapped back into reality and looked whatever is happening. jiyeon is now in front, saying something about 'the party is just getting started'

yet you feel like you want to run and go home.

you then walked to the pool area, which no one barely goes to because the waters freezing. there's a few people in there, but most of them are in the backyard.

you tossed your shoe to the side and dipped your feet into the water. the cold made you shiver, but atleast even a mere feeling got you distracted.

you were lost. you forgot that he had a whole life before you met him. you've been together for six months. six fucking months.

and you weren't even official. so why do you feel so fucking upset?

for a moment, you felt your heart stop when another set of feet dipped into the water beside you. you looked up, and there he was. your baby.

"hi," he smiled at you. the very same smile that makes you crazy.

"hi." you turned away from his gaze, and watched your feet sway under the water.

"why are you here? the party's over there."

"jake's probably getting wasted by beer pong and you were.." you paused. do you tell him he was with his girl? "..busy."

"yeah, those were old friends from school." he scooted more over to your side.

"you should go back, she might be looking for you." there it is. the bitter tone that you held back, came out. you didn't mean to, but it did.

"y/n." mark tried to hold your hand, but you refused and moved it away, pretending to get your drink beside you.

"are you gonna tell me who she is?" you asked. this is the only thing you needed to know. just this, and everything else will be okay.

"she's.. she's my ex." boom. you expected it, but damn does it still sting.

"you still love her?"

"y/n.. please." mark now looked at you and tried to hold your hand once again, but you just stood up.

if he can't answer the question, then that's it.

"i think i need a drink." you then grabbed your shoe and wore it, before mark could even answer, you were already walking away.

--

the morning you woke up, your phone blew up like crazy. you had it turned off after you left the party and texted jake that you're heading home.

13 missed calls from my markeu <3

[11:01pm] my markeu <3: where are you

[11:02pm] my markeu <3: jake told me u went home alr

[11:04pm] my markeu <3: baby atleast tell me you're home safe

[11:06pm] my markeu <3: answer ur phone babe

and so many more messages from mark you didn't bother to read the rest because you felt really off. last night he couldn't tell you if he's still inlove with his ex. he was with her the whole night and didn't bother to text you. now he's bombarding you with texts.

you're so glad it's the first day of summer. you didn't have to go to school so avoiding him would be easy.

so, unlike everyone else, you stayed home. everyone was probably away from vacation, and here you are. in front of your laptop watching netflix.

but still.. your mind is stuck with mark and his ex.

an idea popped into your mind. you feel crazy for doing this, but you know your mind wouldn't rest until you find out about them.

you searched mark's instagram, and you went to the tagged pictures. at first you saw pictures from your school, the ones that jake had posted-- and as you scroll down, you saw pictures from his old school.

the most recent one are a post from a man named jaemin, its a photo of him, mark and other friends that was in the party last night. ryujin was also there. it seems like she's really close with them. the caption saying, 'gonna spend the summer with the whole squad!'

so, they're planning on staying here for the summer? that's.. fine.

and as you tapped in one picture, him with his friends, you looked at the comments. mostly are boys-- probably his friends. you scrolled down until you saw a picture from a year ago.

the first photo was mark's tattoo. a rose.

then the second one was a girl's tattoo. a daisy.

the caption,

ryuu_jin: happy 3rd anniversary to my daisy. love, your rose.

--

"so, are you coming? i mean, it's the annual summer party! everybody's gonna be there, you know, to start the summer!" jake tried to sound enthusiastic as he proposed to you about the summer slam in the falls.

its an annual summer party that your town have. booze, music and free drinks so you know everybody's not gonna miss it.

except for you. it has been three days since you avoided mark. he had made efforts to call you everyday, even asked jake for help but jake already knows what's happening. so he didn't help mark, instead, he's been with you.

"i don't know, i think i'll pass on this year." you have no interest in torturing yourself this time. because you're pretty sure that mark and ryujin, together with his friends are still in town.

jake looks almost pissed, sighing and calming his self down before sitting down at the edge of your bed.

"look, y/n, mark and his friends are gonna be here for the whole summer. so are you gonna shut yourself out the entire time? come on, don't be a bummer."

you looked straight at jake, "jake please, i told you i'm not feeling well! why don't you just go by yourself? its easier for you because you're not in my shoe, dude. i'm not like you, i can't pretend to be okay when obviously i'm not!"

"all of this and you're not even his girlfriend."

and that ticked you off. "what the fuck? yeah i'm not! and it still fucking hurts because i did love him, you asshole. fuck you, honestly. get out of my room." you covered yourself with blankets before a tear escaped your eyes.

jake seemed to realize that what he said was wrong, so he immediately softens, "i'm sorry, y/n. i didn't mean it like that. i'm sorry."

gosh, what is even happening? you and jake never argued like this before. all of this because of mark? this is not good.

you sighed. you slowly uncovered yourself and looked at guilty jake, giving you an awkward smile. "let's go to the party.

---

"wooh!" you screamed at top of your lungs after you took a shot of pure vodka.

jake clapped at your craziness, so proud of his best friend. everyone was either wet, or drunk. and right now, you're both.

"fuck that taste horrible." you mumbled after recovering.

"yeah, that's pure alcohol. if you keep doing that i might need to call the ambulance for alcohol poisoning." jake gave you a lemon slice which you gladly accepted.

"i'm really glad i went to this party." you gave jake a smile of approval and he just laughed in your face.

you were about to grab the keg hose to give yourself a beer, when suddenly someone got a hold of your wrist.

you looked at the person, and its probably the least person you wanted to see.

"y/n." okay, y/n, remember your rule. act fine, don't let this affect you. show him that you're okay.

"hey, mark! want a beer?" you smiled at him, offering him a cup.

he looked hella confused, "why did you block me?"

"phone's dead." you continued to pour yourself beer, ignoring his eyes at any costs.

"for a week?" he almost sounded offended, which almost makes you vomit. the audacity.

"yeah. anyways, have you seen jake--"

"cut the crap, i want to talk to you. please." his eyes begged, looking at yours with so much sincerity, the same eyes you know you can't resist.

"i don't know if there's still something to talk about." you whispered, gathering all your courage to slowly open the can of worms.

"there is. i want to tell you everything."

with final hesitation, you decided this needed to happen for your sake. you know you're dying to know everything--- to clear everything, your mind, your heart and soul. better to get over this now.

so you and mark decided to sit at the bench away from people at the party, away from the music.

"so.." you started, waiting for him to say something.

"we were childhood friends."

the first dagger to your heart. are you sure you can take more?

"--and we got into a relationship, for three years. i loved her-- god damn, i really did." the way his voice cracked, says a million words.

"what happened?" you asked as if the answer wouldn't shatter your heart.

"drifted apart. her interest was far from mine. she had a different view of our future. i wanted to be with her forever but she got scared. we were kids, of course she was terrified. she wanted to explore more-- but i was sure about her."

the threathening tears in your eyes started to feel warmer. you wanted to hear that one of them had cheated, you wanted to hear that she was a bad person. so you could have a reason to hate her. but fuck, of course she's not.

"you really loved her, didn't you?" you asked. again, as if the answer wouldn't send another dagger through your heart.

"i did." he didn't even hesitated.

"so.. what happens to me?" you looked at him and the way your voice broke just confirms that you're in the brink of tears.

"y/n.. please. what happened to me and ryujin really hits me hard. she was my first love-- i can't just forget her." his voice was pleading. which makes it harder for you because you can tell he's also hurting.

"i'm not asking you to forget, mark. i'm asking you to put me in my place."

"y/n-- i like you, so fucking much." he held your hand like he depended on it, and it burned-- the desperation on the way he held it, it feels foreign-- just a while ago you called him your home, yet now he felt like a stranger.

"that's not enough if you still love her." it wasn't his fault. so why are you hurting him like this?

"i can't lose you."

"you have no choice. because i'm not fixing a man that i didn't break."

--

you see, people come and go all the time, but the way they leave always stays. and with mark-- well, him and ryujin left with a bang.

an instagram post,

ryuu_jin 'he's mine, you may of had him once, but i got him all the time.'

and a picture of mark, smiling brightly at the camera while eating ice cream.

"fuck this shit." you tossed your phone and covered your face with your pillow and screamed.

what was the reason she had to caption it like that!? what a fucking way to rub it in your face.

"she's doing it on purpose, maybe mark had mentioned what happened to her. what a fucking prick." jake said through the phone. oh, he's pissed aswell.

one thing about jake is when he knows you're being ridiculed or being hurt by someone, he gets mad. he's protective about things like this.

he offered to message mark about it but you don't want to make a big fuss about it. you just don't want anything to do with them anymore.

you stayed home for almost a week. practically living off of mcdonald's chicken nugget and store bought ice cream. jake knew you were heartbroken so what better way to mend a broken heart than an unhealthy supply of fast food.

but today, you had no choice but to go to a coffee shop. you maybe heart broken but hell, that wouldn't stop you from getting your favorite caffeine drink from your favorite coffee shop.

"one americano for y/n." you heard the barista call your name so that's when you stood up and got your coffee.

you thanked the barista and quickly walked to the door but not quick enough, as your wrist were grabbed.

"what the--" you words cut off when you saw who pulled you.

"mark?"

"y/n. how are you?" voice laced with concern, he genuinely want to know how you're doing.

you pulled your wrist from him.

remember, y/n, you don't have to be bitter. you're better than them.

"doing great." you said. looking over him, seeing ryujin sitting at the chair where mark had been sitting earlier. honestly, if you've noticed that they're here, you would pass on coffee for today.

"i'm sorry about ryujin's post, i told her to delete it already." oh, so he didn't know about the stunt his girl pulled?

"don't worry about it, no big deal. i really have to go." you can only be nice for a while, but you can't spend your afternoon hanging out with him and his girl. you're not a saint.

"y/n, please, just let me.. fuck." he held your wrist again, he's in crisis. mark can never lie. you can tell when he's really in deep shit.

"let you what?"

"let me look at you. i fucking missed you." he whispered the last sentence but you picked it up.

you smirked. "you can't be that selfish, mark, right? now go, ryujin's already looking over here." she's already eyeing you and mark from a distance.

"shit." mark closed his eyes and squeezed your wrist gently, before letting go. you took that as a chance to walk away.

it felt nice-- the way you stood up for yourself.

you don't need him, you can go on fine by yourself. just a little bit of a kick start and you're off. its gonna be great. all's gonna be fine.

--

you know damn well this isn't happening to you.

you rang jake's phone again for a what feels like the ninety ninth time, but his service was out.

you see, what happened was jake had set you up with a friend. a really nice guy. 'something to take your mind off the canadian boy' in jake's words.

and you know jake knew what your taste in men are so he set you up with his good friend, jay.

he's good looking-- wait, no, he's fucking gorgeous. him and you had similar taste in music and all that cheesy stuff. you seemed to enjoy his company so you had spent hours talking to him.

he asked you if you could go with him at the slum city. a popular bar here in your town. something about a summer thing that the bar offers live band. you agreed, of course.

so here you are, sitting with him, listening to music you and him both like.

but why are you sweating buckets you might ask?

well because mark lee, and all of his friends are sitting at the other side of the bar. his arms around ryujin, them laughing about something that you're sure isn't funny.

"hey, you alright?" jay asked. poor boy, here he thought you would enjoy the vibe but you looked constipated.

"yeah. yep." you nodded at him to give him assurance.

you glanced over at mark's side of the bar and you saw him glancing over you aswell. you looked away swiftly and pretended to drink.

somehow, this large space where the music and chatters filled seemed so suffocating for you. you weren't even claustrophobic but the distance between you and mark feels so uncomfortable, you weren't ready to see him happy just yet.

sounds selfish, you know, but you can't help it. seeing him happy while you were on the opposite of the spectrum just didn't seem fair.

once you felt your chest tightening, you knew it was bad news. you need to get out of here.

"jay, i need to go to the bathroom." you whispered over to jay, which distracts him from watching the band in front. he looked at you with concern, and offered to walk you to the comfort room.

you gently refused, because honestly you weren't gonna go there to pee, you were actually planning to get out of the establishment. to breathe.

you stood there, hands in your waist, breathing the oxygen that the establishment failed to provide you.

you can still hear the music that the band played, but here its more lower. instead, it got clouded over some cars passing by and noise made by the highway.

"your boyfriend?" you almost jumped out of shock when you heard a female voice behind you.

you turned, and viola, the heather in your story.

"no. not yet." you replied to ryujin, although you were aware that your answer just opened the awkward silence that you were trying to avoid, there's not much you wanted to say to her.

"oh. that's nice." if you thought the situation couldn't be more awkward, her response just proved you wrong.

the whole minute that just passed feels like a lifetime. you were sure she went to you with a reason, and you were only waiting for her to say anything.

and just like you hoped, she spoke.

"you know, i've always wanted to meet you." her soft voice that fits her angelic face starting to annoy you.

you didn't answer, still finding a correct response to what she just said. before you could find it tho, she continued.

"you made him so happy. i can tell, i've been seeing his posts for the last few months."

at least she was aware that i was here for him.

"yeah well we both liked justin bieber so that's easy." you tried to lift the mood, which didn't really help at all.

she chuckled, damn, even her laugh sounds so angelic.

"but you know we've been together for 3 years, right?" mood turned sour faster than usain bolt. you can't help but look at her when she said that.

"and you two have been together for.. a half." hearing those words from her mouth just broke you. you've never felt so down, so embarassed and so mad at the same time.

"what's your point?" your tone started to get colder, wanting her to leave you alone. you can't argue with her, all she said was facts.

"that i'm his home, and he just went for a little vacation but he's still going back to me." her tone almost sounded like she's bragging, like she's proving that she's always the girl. which, she is.

"and i know that. but didn't you break up?" you wanted this conversation to be over, but god, you can't just let her step on you like everything was your fault.

"we did, for like-- a year. but guess who's driving me home tonight? him. he loves me and he will always do. so i suggest, stop wasting your time on him because he's mine. i know its a hard pill to swallow but you know i'm right."

how could you respond to that? she's got a point.

"i already ended things with him. so please, just leave me alone--"

"y/n? ryujin? wha- why are you two--" ah, the man behind all of this. mark lee.

"nothing, markie. just reminded her some things." ryujin came back with her innocent smile as she faced mark. yet, mark's eyes are on you.

"y/n? hey!"

the relief you felt when you heard jay call your name. right on motherfucking time.

you looked at him as he ran towards you, voice filled with concern as he looked at you and the couple around you with confusion.

"hey, sorry, got caught up with some.." you glanced at mark and ryujin, "..old friends."

jay wasn't convinced, still eyeing both of them as he consoled you and put his jacket around you.

"it's cold out here. you said you were going to the bathroom." you looked at jay.

you stared at him. this man, gives you everything you needed to be a partner, and you're sure he's got no ex that he's still not over with, and he's drop dead gorgeous. why can't it be him?

"i'm sorry. let's go--"

"y/n, can we talk?" a curse almost slipped your mouth as you heard mark.

you sighed. you're tired. you want to move on and get this all over with.

"yeah, let's talk." you gave jay an assuring smile and said that you'll be back, ryujin also had no problem with mark talking to you.

you needed to end this.

"who's he? your boyfriend? when did you--"

"what do you want from me, mark? cuz i'm sick and tired of the bullshit you're trying to play. if you choose your ex then stop bugging me! let me fucking move on because i can't be hung up on you like a stupid lovesick bitch!" there. the anger you've been trying to hide just flew out. and honestly, you don't care.

"i told you needed time to sort my feelings! it's hard for me too! i never expected her to want me back-- y/n, i thought we were over!" his voice sounded exhausted aswell.

"you were broken up but you weren't over her, mark. that's just not fair for me, because how could you start something with me when you're not even finished with her?" your tears started to flow.

"i genuinely liked you, fuck i might be inlove with you for pete's sake!" you ears rang after you heard word 'love'.

you wanted to believe him. you wanted to ask and confirm what you heard but you knew it wasn't true. it can't be love. no.

"you don't, mark." you gave up on yelling, completely breaking down in front of him.

"how can you dictate my own feelings, y/n?! you don't know me!" he's the one yelling now.

"you weren't inlove with me, you like me because the idea of me reminds you of her--"

"no!-"

"let me fucking finish!"

his mouth falls into a thin line, a tear slowly filling the brim of his eyes.

"mark, don't you understand? you're saying that you love me because you feel guilty. you feel like you owe it to me, because i got hurt. can't you see? i'm the other girl."

there it is. the fact that you hated. the truth that you despise. you were the side character.

"you two are meant for each other and i'm just the other girl who you had to meet when you're broken-- just like any other lovestory. and after the happiness you felt with me-- you'll realize that it's still her. i hate to admit it but that's what it is." your voice was trembling, but you had to get the point across.

"what are you saying? no, y/n, don't be like that--"

"it's okay. i'll be fine, mark. you don't need to say anything." you shushed him, giving him a smile despite the tears rolling on your cheeks.

you continued, "it fucking sucks that it had to be me, but what can we do? life sucks anyways. you don't need to blame yourself over this, mark. i'm okay-- i'll be okay."

you caressed his soft cheeks to get rid of his tear, one last time.

you took a sharp breath. "go, mark. be with her. i'll be here. you know that boy-- earlier? he's a great catch, i know he'll take care of me. it's okay, let go."

mark, finally processing everything that you're trying to make him understand.

he sniffed, leaning to your face, giving you a stare you knew you wouldn't see again, before kissing your forehead like his life depended on it.

after a few minutes he looked at you again.

"thank you-- and i'm so sorry." the last words he said before walking away.

A year later

that brings you to now, you were already settling down on a new job, an internship that your school had gotten you after graduating.

jay and you tried, but it didn't work. maybe you're still hung up over your college fling but mostly you really don't want to lead him on when you're still not ready to fall into another relationship again.

you were scrolling through instagram and one particular post caught your attention.

it was from ryujin.

ryuu_jin: i said yes!

a picture of her hand, wearing a diamond ring.

you smiled. you weren't gonna say it doesn't hurt still, but you're glad they got the ending they deserved.

mark took all of his effort to avoid you-- even changing his entire schedule just to make sure you two weren't in the same class anymore. you never saw him again-- literally as he moved back to seoul after graduation.

he had stopped hanging out with jake aswell which doesn't bother jake-- because he's still mad at him for hurting you.

you'd accepted the faith that you weren't mark's happy ending, you were just a mere side character.

"it's fine, you'll get your prince charming soon." you whispered at yourself as you fixed your skirt.

you dusted off your button up shirt as you walked towards the building where you walk.

and as you looked up, its way too late for you to notice that you're bumping with someone.

"i'm so sorry! i'm so--"

to say that you're stunned was a huge understatement. your jaws were dropped upon seeing the man in front of you.

"sorry." his deep voice followed, smiling at you, presenting his eye smile that oh-- just adds to it all.

"yeah- uh.." you didn't know what to say, as you forced your eyes away from his gorgeous face.

"do you happen to know where na corporations is?" na corporations? that's the company you're interning right now!

"i'm actually on my way there-- uh, i'm the new intern." you grabbed your id and showed it to him, which he saw, and immediately his brows furrowed.

"y/n?" he muttered your name to spark some memory in his brain, because he swore you felt familiar.

that's when it downed on him, "you're l/y/n?"

you blinked twice, softly nodding to him as you let your id down. he took his time scanning your face, and you took the opportunity to appreciate his gorgeous face aswell.

is this my prince charming? no-- i mean, it can't be that fast!

although you wished he is, because god damn, you'd be a lucky girl if you managed to pull this one.

"i'm lee mark's cousin, lee jeno."

oh you've got to be kidding me.