#he appreciates them from a distance but not in his space

[dykealloy]

Rec list please ✍️🏻

(with tropes and just a smidge of reason why the media is recommended <- both very optional of course)

oh boy. okay. Confession time, I've watched a ridiculous number of shows out of east Asia so this is a good opportunity to share some faves from recent memory. If there's going to be one running through-line with these recs it's that I love character-driven narratives which explore interesting interpersonal relationships (socio-cultural commentary is a plus).

In no ranked order, here's my top ten:

Hamster running the emotional gamut wheel (well-written stories about grief, closure and family)

Move to Heaven (2021) Korea, 10 episodes, Netflix Summary: Han Geu-ru is an autistic 20-year-old who works for his father’s business “Move To Heaven”, a company that specializes in crime scene cleanup, where they collect and arrange items left by the deceased and deliver them to the bereaved family. When Geu-ru's father dies, his guardianship passes to his uncle, ex-convict and underground MMA fighter Cho Sang-gu. Per the father's will, Sang-gu must care for and work with Geu-ru for three months to gain full guardianship and claim the inheritance. Eying money, Sang-gu agrees to the conditions and moves in.

This show knows exactly what it is and executes with excellent writing and characterisation. While it does have an overarching narrative, Move to Heaven is structured so that you're exploring a different person's story each episode, so it has a lot of flexibility to explore themes of grief and closure through different lives and relationships, and when I tell you this show can hit emotional beats... (<- may or may not have cried through most episodes on my first watch-through. Emotional terrorism). These stories are really beautifully portrayed and though there are effective comedic beats, there's this clear authenticity in not needing to undercut or distance oneself from the vulnerability of the subject matter.

Geu-ru and his uncle (Sang-gu) add a lot of needed levity, with Geu-ru's need for consistent, structured, methodical routines constantly clashing with Sang-gu's chaotic and combative approach to life. Sang-gu's character arc (though predictable) is just so satisfying. It's kinda hilarious seeing Geu-ru (and his father by extension) inadvertently poke more and more holes in Sang-gu's initial plan of "take the money and run" the deeper he incorporates himself into the space and purpose that his brother once took up, and it's very heartwarming to see these polar opposites slowly develop a respect and appreciation for one another.

Tropes: reluctant to responsible parental figure, tear-jerker

Oh No! Here Comes Trouble (2023) Taiwan, 12 episodes, GTV and iQIYI Summary: Pu Yi-yong was a typical 17-year-old student with a passion for drawing and a hereditary talent for calligraphy. After he wakes up from a bus accident that claimed his father's life and left him in a coma for two years, a 19-year-old Yi-yong must now find his place in the world again. This becomes more complicated when spirits begin approaching him and asking for his help.

This show actually has a lot of similarities to Move to Heaven e.g. exploring different side-stories each episode, focus on victims forgotten by society (the lonely, the homeless, the outcasts and the minorities), themes of grief and closure, polar opposite characters learning to work together, breaking me emotionally at some point. But Oh No! Here Comes Trouble differs in tone (distinct directing style), quirky humour (Taiwanese comedic style is just different and I love it in this show) and presentation (urban fantasy/mystery).

Yi-yong might be one of my all time favourite characters in media. From the outset he presents as this classic, one-dimensional, grumpy delinquent teen (e.g. resting-bitch-face syndrome, scrappy mullet, academically behind, no social grace and a tendency to accidentally hit people in the face with softballs). As fun as that is, the more you watch, the more this show challenges these assumptions. Yi-yong's mum (also an A+ character, god I love her) is a hairdresser, and often uses Yi-yong as her stylistic guinea pig. Yi-yong's not super intelligent, but he's compassionate (albeit at times reluctantly so). He really listens when people talk to him, whether they're trying to comfort him, give him advice, or asking him for assistance (though he often questions and expresses frustrations about his own ability to help other people). There's a humble gentleness to him.

Yi-yong was already struggling to juggle his dreams of becoming a comic artist with the practicalities of his life before he fell into a coma, then he woke up two years later, having completely missed the perceived "pivotal juncture" associated with the transition from youth to adulthood. Time moved on, and so have his peers, leaving an almost 20-year-old Yi-yong lost at sea with no paddle, no map and grieving the loss of his father. And now he has supernatural beings approaching him and insisting that he is the key to settling their unfinished business. To Yi-yong (and to popular east-asian social standards), Yi-yong is a loser. He's academically unintelligent, has no clear aspirations or discipline or future prospects, his family is far from wealthy, he's got zero social status, smarts or rank. Yi-yong is just as much of a forgotten outcast to society as these spirits are.

He does eventually get assistance in the form of Chen Chuying - a junior police officer (helping substantially with the mystery investigation side of things) and Cao Guangyan - former one-sided rival schoolmate and current med student who coincidentally moves next door (initially maintains the outsider perspective of Yi-yong as a hooligan until they get to know each other a little better, by which point Guangyan is already helping Yi-yong get back on his feet) who form a very well-rounded, loveable cast.

I wish I could talk more about this show, I am very fond of it. Please do watch it and if anyone wants to discuss it my dms are open.

Tropes: ragtag trio of idiots, urban fantasy, mystery, tear-jerker, reluctant hero

Get your pussy up get your money up (life is giving lemons and survival is the name of the game)

Honourable mentions here: Yeon Sang-ho popped off with Train to Busan in 2016 and South Korea has been throwing bangers into one of my favourite genre pools ever since. If you're interested in more zombie series I would strongly recommend checking out All of Us are Dead (2022), Happiness (2021), Sweet Home (2020) and Kingdom (2019).

A Shop for Killers (2024) Korea, 8 episodes, Netflix Summary: Jeong Ji-An tragically loses her parents as a young girl. Her reserved and mysterious estranged uncle, Jeong Jinman, acts as her sole guardian and care-taker, raising her with tough love and a survivalist mindset until she leaves for university. One day, Jung Ji-An hears that her uncle has suddenly passed away, and returns home, where she learns the truth behind her uncle's business and by extension, her past.

Ji-An is locked inside a building with no communication with the outside world, nowhere to go, and with assassins after her head (not ideal). Unbeknownst to Ji-An though, her late uncle Jinman prepared a thorough defense system for this very event, setting her up with home-terf advantage and a very dangerous fortress against this army.

Ji-An and Jinman's story is told mainly through flashbacks as Ji-An attempts to survive the raid on their home. Their dynamic is definitely a repeat of the stoic, initially cold father-figure type "I am neither your mum or your dad, and I can never be" to the orphan child that we've been seeing more recently of late. I'm not mad about it. It's a good formula. I won't go into the type of person Jinman is, or the nature of his work/business. Going in blind and slowly figuring this out with Ji-An was a big plus in terms of the viewing experience for me.

Tropes: reluctant parental figure, home alone antics

D.P. (2021) Korea, 12 episodes, Netflix Summary: Ahn Junho is enlisted to serve in the South Korean Army as part of his national service obligations. He eventually goes to the Army's Military Police. While getting used to life in the MP, Junho's street smarts lands him in the D.P. (Deserter Pursuit) unit. Junho is assigned with Corporeal Han Hoyeol to capture deserters, revealing the painful reality endured by each enlistee during their compulsory duty.

imo D.P.'s is at its most enjoyable when Junho and Hoyeol are working as detectives with limited time and resources. Hoyeol's presence especially adds needed levity. He's like the show's own eccentric little court jester (at least until season 2, where he becomes the show's own tortured little court jester). You don't know how much you're missing Hanyeol until he shows up and you're finally given some space to breathe.

This show's gotten a lot of praise for its realistic social commentary around the vicious cycle of bullying, hazing practices, corruption and abuse within the South Korean military. It's well written and fast-paced, and it definitely doesn't pull its punches. I probably wouldn't recommend this show were it not for the quality of its writing, its ability to balance the depressing subject matter with pockets of dark comedy and everyone's favourite dynamic duo Junho and Han Hoyeol. All the content warnings for this one.

Tropes: ptsd, abuse, brotherhood, idk man straight up not having a good time

Weak Hero Class (2022) Korea, 8 episodes, Viki Summary: Straight-A student and loner Yoon Sieun utilizes his wits and tools to defend himself from a boys school full of shit-heads. He slowly warms up to Ahn Sooho, the school's strongest fighter, and Oh Beomseuk, the new transfer Student.

Sieun is here to answer the age-old philosophical question: "Aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you just want to go apeshit?" Even though Sieun is physically lacking, he's very capable of baring his teeth and using his smarts to fight like hell. It's so cathartic to finally see a short, weak, bullied protagonist willing to go violently feral upon provocation.

This show's tone can get pretty dark and surprisingly violent. The true core behind why a lot of people love this show is Sieun and Sooho's friendship. Sieun starts off as a grumpy, glaring, withdrawn hermit with no interest in anything that isn't studying (honestly idk how Sieun keeps finding himself in these situations like. All the kid ever wanted was to hit the books). I won't spoil too much, but watching as Sooho slowly peels away that protective shell Sieun encases around himself is a thing of beauty. I strongly recommend you give the first episode a go (free on youtube).

Tropes: angst, bromance, badass bookworm, adults are useless, abusive parents

Detectives smashing you over the head repeatedly with gay subtext (not explicitly gay but if you have a brain and any semblance of a gaydar that thing is going to be going off like a geiger counter next to the elephant foot)

The Devil judge (2021) Korea, 16 episodes, Netflix and Viki Summary: Set in a dystopian version of present-day South Korea, the world is bereft of law and order and the court justice process has become like a reality tv show. Head Trial Judge Kang Yohan mercilessly punishes the guilty and corrupt, earning him the "Devil Judge" monicker. As bitter rivalry takes shape between Yohan and the highly ambitious Jung Sun-ah, who has risen from poverty to become a corporate social responsibility foundation director. Into this turbulent world enter two childhood friends on a mission for true justice and determined to discover the secret Yohan is hiding: rookie judge Kim Gaon and detective Yoon Su-hyun.

The Devil Judge tackles the concept of the anti-hero (battling evil with evil) and questions why these figures are idolized by the public. It also challenges the naive faith in the rule of law and whether or not the established systems should be upheld or not. The screenwriter has however made it very clear that he focused way more on the relationship between the characters than conveying his own message and boy oh boy is that reflected in whatever Yohan and Gaon have got going on (serious come-hither eyes, gratuitous physical touch, themes of power, justice and corruption, Yohan pressing Gaon up against the nearest hard surface on at least four separate occasions, etc.).

Kang Yohan, the titular anti-hero/main protagonist operates within a failed state and a corrupted judiciary. To a certain extent he knows the self-destructive path he walks is doomed to fail, but to right the system and take revenge, he's on the lookout for a someone that can out him as the Devil and become the messiah that Yohan himself cannot be. It does come off as very "anime" at times (theatrical presentation, tragic backstories, bad writing when it comes to women, naive characters and overly dramatic tone) but hey, if you have very few qualms with that, chances are you're going to have a blast.

Also the OST for this show absolutely fucks. It has no right being this good. Jung Se Rin really popped off. I have Enemy of Truth as a staple in a lot of my playlists.

Tropes: idealist vs jerkass pragmatist, anti-hero/vigilante, whump

The Worst of Evil (2023) Korea, 12 episodes Summary: Set in the 1990s, a former DJ starts selling a new powerful drug. Since the police know little about its origin, rural police officer Park Junmo is assigned to go undercover and infiltrate the criminal empire responsible for the drug trade between Korea, Japan, and China. Junmo later discovers that his wife, Yoo Euijung, also a detective, has volunteered to participate in this dangerous mission and seems to have a past with the underground drug king (and Junmo's boss), Jung Gicheul. The deeper Junmo entrenches himself as Gicheul's subordinate, the more unrecognisable he becomes to those closest to him.

Junmo could have let Gicheul die or slip away like several times in a row, indicates he has zero idea why he does this, then says the line verbatim "I look up to him and I like him and my body follows my heart". What am I supposed to take away from this. This show has everything. Early 90s homoerotic cigarette lighting, sodomy, incredible cinematography, betrayal, close-ups of Junmo's bloody face squished up against Gicheul's thigh. There's some scenes where Junmo is looking at both his wife and Gicheul framed in the same shot like the goddamn camera is daring you to question who he is more jealous of. My biggest complaint is that there was quite literally no need for a wife-stealing plot - the most compelling, messiest gay situationship was right there for the taking.

In episode 9 post-gang war hallway-slaughter, a blood-soaked Junmo hops up onto a table on all fours with a knife between his teeth, locks eyes with Gicheul then proceeds to slash a man's achilles tendon and if you listen closely enough you'll hear me in the background screaming YOU HAVE BECOME HIS DOG. 10/10 watch this show.

Tropes: mafia, undercover, bodyguard, make him worse, devotion and loyalty gone bad gone nuclear, maybe if they fucked nasty about it we wouldnt be in this mess

Beyond evil (2021) would also go here and has similar vibes to the above two, but I personally don't have much to say about it. Unhinged slutty old man, gay stuff going on over there, etc, etc. Citrinekay sums it up nicely here. Guardian (2018) would probably also go here. Definitely check these out if you enjoy/like the sound of these shows.

Lighthearted fun romance (I am not escaping the lesbian fujoshi accusations)

Cherry Magic (2020) Japan, 12 episodes Summary: Adachi is a salaryman with low confidence and a tendency for self-deprecation, resulting in him often acting awkward around others, not being sure how to assert himself in the workplace, and constantly comparing himself to the company's golden boy - Kurosawa. Things become further complicated when Adachi finds out after his thirtieth birthday that he has suddenly gained the magical power to hear people's thoughts if he touches them. Adachi struggles with his newfound touch telepathy when he accidentally discovers Kurosawa is in love with him.

Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard!? (Yes that is the full title, Japan you are killing me) is very sweet and wholesome and the humour hits and I believe in Kurosawa Yuichi supremacy. I know self-deprecating characters can be a downer for some people but Adachi comes off as very relatable and seeing him slowly gain more confidence in himself and his abilities is heartwarming. Great serotonin-booster. If you find this show's premise interesting there's a high likelihood you will enjoy it.

I didn't care so much for the second couple but if you're like me it's easy to skip through these scenes (you won't be missing anything).

Tropes: office romance, telepathy, pining

Semantic Error (2022) Korea, 8 episodes, Viki and Netflix (region-dependent) Summary: Cho Sangwoo is the epitome of an inflexible and strict rule-abiding person. When talented graphic design major Jaeyoung discovers Sangwoo is the cause for his delayed university graduation, he sets out to take revenge (by becoming Sangwoo's biggest, brightest daily annoyance). Jaeyoung finds himself in hot water when he inadvertently develops a crush, and junior computer science major Sangwoo is about to encounter some serious errors in his usual programming.

This is a classic polar opposites attract story, with Jaeyoung the loud, extroverted, brash foil to Sangwoo's reserved, withdrawn, morally black-and-white, logic-first persona. As much fun as it is to see Sangwoo's ordered world thrown into chaos, it's equally enjoyable to witness Jaeyoung jump from being obsessively committed to annoying Sangwoo, to being whipped for him (and the subsequent difficulties this causes for Jaeyoung - a popular, attractive, talented, bi artist used to getting his way - in trying to pursue a highly irritated and emotionally closed-off Sangwoo, who is being challenged with a side of himself he hasn't had to grapple with up until now). Also Jaeyoung has an incredibly hot lesbian best friend which was great. for me specifically.

An entertaining, cohesive story with great actors who have fantastic chemistry. What more can you ask for?

Tropes: enemies to lovers, opposites attract, university, pulling pigtails

Old Fashion Cupcake (2022) Japan, 5 episodes Summary: At the critical juncture of a mid-life crisis, Nozue, a 39-year-old office worker, is stuck in the dull, mundane grind of wake, work, sleep. But due to his age, he's convinced he's well past the point he can take risks by trying something new. As such, he continues to decline promotions at his job and romantic advances from potential partners. He confides one day in his 29-year-old subordinate, Togawa, making an off-hand comment about a desire to be like a young girl - capable of feeling excitement and joy in life again. In an attempt to inspire him to move forward, Togawa suggests an "anti-aging experiment" and the two of them go on a journey together to help Nozue feel young again.

First things first - a large portion of Togawa's proposed "ant-aging technique" involves frequenting dessert cafes and restaurants that are catered towards a younger female demographic and fuck me the food in this show always looks so goddamn good.

The boss/employee thing might turn people away from giving this a shot but what I really love about this show is that despite being Nozue's subordinate (and younger than him - which is a bigger deal in Japan), Togawa is extremely blunt and unafraid to tell Nozue exactly what he thinks (so long as Togawa believes it will ultimately benefit Nozue in the long run), and it's very clear that he does this because he has a strong sense of respect for Nozue (and because spoilers - Togawa is so down bad for his boss like okay boy DAMN. Go get your esoteric old man). This show is also great at conveying emotion and inner conflict without dialogue (I've enjoyed coming back for a re-watch and picking up on little nuisances in Togawa and Nozue's behaviour that I missed the first time around).

Overall this is a very cute, very wholesome coming of age/queerness story that reminds you that it's never too late to pursue what interests you, try something new, and enjoy life while you're at it.

Tropes: fingers in his mouth friday, pining, age gap, office romance, food as a love language

That's it! If you want more recs from a genre hit up my inbox, I had a fun time pulling this together and have many more in the chamber where that came from.

#long post #yes I didn't add the untamed because if you haven't already seen or heard of that show you are. living under a rock #i didn't realise how difficult it is to communicate specifically why you like a show until now #move to heaven #oh no! here comes trouble #a shop for killers #d.p. #weak hero class 1 #the devil judge #the worst of evil #cherry magic! thirty years of virginity can make you a wizard?! #semantic error #old fashion cupcake #drama recommendation #kdrama #asian drama #show recommendations #drama recs #ask

[shit-people-probably-didnt-say]

Jesper: My husband doesn’t want to instil his fear of spiders on our son so he, very calmly, reports them to me like some kinda mob boss. “Jes, theres a situation near the sink. I need you to take care of it. Immediately. No loose ends. I want proof when the job is done”

Jesper: I have tried to tell him spiders are important for the ecosystem he likes so much, but he’s certain that theres ‘no space for an ecosystem in the kitchen’

#wylan: well go return him to that ecosystem #hes scared of bees and spiders #he appreciates them from a distance but not in his space #nina: what would you do if jes wasnt home? #wylan: send his offspring in to do the job as hes not terrified of them #kaz: youd sacrifice your son to the spider? #wylan: sacrifice is such a strong word #wylan: i prefer ‘offering’ #soc #six of crows #soc incorrect quotes #jesper fahey #wesper #wesper parents

[gemma-nye]

This has probably already been pointed out a million times and I don’t pretend to have a way with words but I’ll try:

One thing I love about good omens is the visual storytelling, and the way in which Aziraphale and Crowley approach interior decor provides an insight into the journey they take as characters.

Take Aziraphale’s bookshop, it couldn’t contrast more with the stark and soulless minimalism of Heaven, he loves clutter and mess and you can tell this space is a reflection of who he is as a person. The set design here shows that rebellion against heaven doesn’t just lie in doing evil and consorting with the enemy but also in appreciating and surrounding himself with the things that bring him joy.

Then there’s Crowley’s flat, this time a brutalist and spacious middle finger to the dark and dank corridors of hell. His appreciation of art and plants and light is reflected in this space and once again goes to show that rebellion really can be as simple as distancing himself from the looks and ideals of the place he has come from.

TL;DR the good omens set designers kick ass and I can’t wait to see more from them in series two

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #ineffable husbands

[iicarused]

##come back to me

ex!vox x reader / alastor x reader (in reality he stole vox’s bitch)

part i

synopsis: you’re getting tired of the radio demon

beware: heavy yandere aspects, heavy obsession, implications of manipulation, reader just not having a break

whenever he looked at you, gazed upon your form, they were always so gentle. the embodiment of love and infatuation were behind them, as he wouldn’t be able to hide it even if he tried.

alastor won’t lie, he first started talking with you out of spite from his rival. you were in a vulnerable state at the time, and my, did you spill most of vox’s secrets behind closed doors! alastor came to you just to talk heavy shit about vox in hindsight.

although, it would be a lie if he said he wasn’t catching a genuine interest in your own stories and interests. it took time but he did fall for the aspect that you are one of a kind: little did he know, you came from the era of his circle. it was like it was meant to be.

“my dear, if you do not want to deal with a rodent like him, give me the word and he will be gone.” “don’t you lift your pretty finger, i will take care of him.” “you’re so cute when you try and take control — we both know he will not listen to your word — it’ll just make him more starved.” this is where you began to hear vox behind his words

they’re were laced and very similar. the contrast was that alastor seemed more confident in his words, almost like he expected you to listen to his statements when there wasn’t a choice. at first, you didn’t want to believe it. the radio demon was far different from the man you called an ex

just like last time, you felt suffocated in your own space. you felt small, but this time you caught the signs before it could go any further. alastor didn’t appreciate that, especially since you took the lead more often.

you had to take a break, just a simple break, even for an hour. you wanted to get as far as you possibly could from that demon for even a fragment of time. husk caught a glimpse of you leaving on a dark night, but he only nodded at you before continuing on with his task.

getting away from one demon was one thing, hiding from two was another. you were fully aware that alastor would know of your absence soon enough, as that cannibal never seemed to sleep. although, you could only stay out of the streets for so long in hopes that vox hadn’t noticed.

you found yourself straying into a bar, for the bouncer happened to be an old friend to let you in even when the place was at max. in the far corner of the building where a busted light hung over your head, never to be replaced or fixed since months ago. your gaze fixated on the shitty drink some guy handed you in the crowd, and it was evidently spiked from how it fizzed.

“and i thought that wretched hotel was your haven.” your gaze picked up to find vox standing over you. he picked at his sleeve. “seat taken?”

too exhausted to care, you beckoned for him to take the seat. “not like today could get any worse.” you pushed your drink to the side, raising a hand before he could speak. “don’t begin on your excuses, not tonight.”

“sweet hells, what happened to you?” oh, how you missed the gentleness of his voice. you missed the way how he gazed at you at this very moment — it was specific and genuine — you never fell out of love with him. just… distanced yourself from it. “i swear to fuck if it’s that demon, i will—“

“vox, it’s fine.” your hand came over his. “it’s whatever, not like you could just get in that hotel without getting tossed across the pentagram.”

those heart pupils that adorned his eyes finally shown, and that’s when you remembered why you had to get away from him. “sweetheart, i don’t understand why you won’t come back to me — come back home where i know you’re safe and well.”

it’s almost like a sixth sense to know that the answer you’re about to give him will result in a temper tantrum. so you decided against it. “i have to go.”

“y/n, please, this is the only time we get to talk, don’t go! i promise to make it better, i—“

he lost you in the crowd.

returning back to the hotel at the dawn of a new day was almost a mistake. a hand came to pinch the bridge of your nose the moment alastor came to your side.

to your surprise, he didn’t ask a thousand questions. instead, he went on with hoping your night out went well and to alert him next time. though, there was a hint of something else behind his tone you couldn’t figure out.

just like any other day, you both gardened the plants that are scattered along the building. making breakfast that involves fresh meat and a fine cup of tea.

is it too late to add that you’re getting used to this? it’s suffocating, yes, but alastor seems to make it more bearable.

#ᥫ᭡. #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel imagine #vox imagine #vox x yn #vox x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #alastor x reader #alastor x yn #alastor x you #alastor imagine #hazbin alastor

[kquil]

REGULUS BLACK | 21:08 — HOLD HER!

SUM : after a boggart class, you rush to Regulus for comfort. The only thing is… the grumpy slytherin doesn’t really know how to comfort someone. Thankfully James is there.  

TAGS. : grumpy regulus ; sunshine reader ; gryffindor reader ; sunshine character seeking comfort in grumpy character trope ; remus approval secured ; sirius needs some convincing ; regulus needs a hug ; but reader needs it more in this fic ; regulus not wanting to admit stuff ; regulus sucks at emotions ; james being a lowkey but loud and panicky wingman ; protective james ; protective regulus 

LENGTH : 1.2k

PART 0.5 (PREQUEL)

“What. The. Fuck…” Sirius exclaims only to receive a hit upside the head by Remus who also pins him with a warning glare, “What?!” the eldest Black brother shouts and gestures to the unbelievable display happening before them, “Shouldn’t you be the one demanding answers? Usually she goes to you for this!”

Instead of answering him, Remus fixes an unreadable stare onto the scene happening before him; trying his hardest to suppress the smile tugging at his lips. Finally his suspicions were confirmed and he was happy to witness its conclusion. It was about time. 

Yes, he was the person you typically sought comfort from when distressed and he was more than happy to be that person for you, however, he’s seen your longing glances and has witnessed many of the one-sided conversations you’ve had with the silent, grumpy slytherin — who was the complete opposite of you in demeanour and attitude. It’s an interesting sight seeing you constantly approach him with your bright smile, sweet face and sparkling eyes, a contrast to his notorious emotionless and cold disposition.

Some people who’ve also witnessed your interactions with Regulus Black couldn’t understand why you were so persistent when he barely said a word back and scarcely showed any interest in return to your friendly advances. They thought you were crazy but you were so bubbly and sweet with everyone, they assumed that it’s just a part of your nature to approach even those who were deemed unapproachable. 

And Regulus Black is unapproachable. To everyone — except you.

Regulus never understood you. 

Usually, whenever someone brave enough to approach him started conversation, they would get so turned off by his aloofness that they would cut the interaction short and move on. Those that continued to persist, received a glare and offensive remark, which finally shook them off and out of his personal space. 

But you. 

You love his personal space. He couldn’t so-easily push you away like the others. Your tenacity rivalled the stubbornness of a bull — it was quite admirable. You weren’t deterred by his aloofness nor his ice-cold glare and snide remark. Secretly he was grateful. He’s grown to love your company (though he’d never say it out loud) ever since you shot down his attempt at forcing distance between the two of you. 

“Why would you say that? That’s so mean,” your pout was adorable, “and stop trying to look scary,” you poke your finger between his brows and ease the creases in his skin from his glare, “it doesn’t work when you have such a pretty face,”

Pretty…

You love calling him that, although he’d argue that the flattering term suited you much more than him. Growing up, he was told to despise Gryffindors; his brother was the only exception until you came along with your pretty smile, pretty eyes, pretty nose, pretty hair, pretty voice, pretty lips — pretty everything! 

…he’d never admit it out loud, however. 

He’d never admit a lot of things out loud when it came to you. Maybe that’s why he hardly said anything when you were around him. At least he doesn’t scowl as much anymore, he just holds a blank stare whilst trying to stop a smile from taking over his face.

He likes listening to you a lot more than he does anyone else and appreciates your company very much, even if it’s just to listen to you talk about your day and all the things you’ve done; how you loved the omelette they served for breakfast, how you really wanted to learn how to ride a broom but were terrified of heights, how your favourite subject was astrology and eagerly waited for each lesson, how you love his company and being close to him. 

He loves it too, being close to you. You’re warm and soft and he loves your fragrance. Surprisingly, it’s not as sickly sweet as he’d once imagined (and dreaded). Rather, you smelled perfectly floral with a hint of piquant spice that was unique to you. It wasn’t intoxicating, instead, it was calming and Regulus was addicted to the peace you were able to bring into his chaotic life, a life that remained jumbled with no help from his Gryffindor brother, his only brother, someone he still deeply but silently adored.  

Regulus appreciated you for being able to give him regular updates on his estranged brother since you were pretty good friends with the Marauders. You were especially close to Remus, which you admitted was due to his level-headedness and calmness. You explained to him that being around such stolid characters were comforting to you because their presence was reassuring. Regulus didn’t understand your reasoning. Although it could be because a creeping jealousy had coloured his eyes green for the tall brunette he had never had the pleasure of officially meeting. Nevertheless, it answered his question on why you so often gravitated towards Remus, especially when distressed. 

So… why were you desperately clinging to him when Remus was just across the courtyard?

James was in a frenzy. He had been worried ever since this morning. Ever since meeting you, he had grown to see you as his younger sister and with that, came a an urge to protect you from all things physical and intangible. Therefore, it was only natural for his senses to flood with worry as soon as you mentioned ‘boggart’ over your a plate of your favourite omelette at breakfast. You were going to have your boggart lesson for DADA today. 

Consumed by worry, James had rushed to the courtyard as soon as morning classes were over and desperately searched the crowd for you. Remus tried to assure him, confident in your courage as a fellow Gryffindor but that wasn’t enough to quell his anxiety for your condition. 

His apprehension was for good reason, it seemed, because for the first time ever! There were tears in your eyes. You were crying. You were sad. Sad enough to sob in someone’s arms. In Regulus Black’s arms!

“WhAt ARe yOU DoING?!” James shouts, his voice cracking and fluctuating from his panicked state as his hands grip and pull at his untamed locks. 

For the first time ever, Regulus stutters, “I-I—…uhh!” 

James’ eyes widen at Regulus’ shaking hands, hanging suspended in the air, his fingers twitching slightly from his hesitation and inexperience with comforting someone, “YOU IDIOT!” only James Potter would have the nerve to call Regulus Black an ‘idiot’.

In his eyes, James was watching his precious baby sister, who he loves to pieces, sob into the arms of someone she wanted comfort from but had no clue how to comfort her, “HOLD HER!” James demands, “HURRY!” 

Finally…FINALLY Regulus hugs you back, one hand on the back of your head to softly pet your hair down as his other circles around your waist and pulls you close. He feels you sob into his shoulder as your shaking hands cling onto the back of his button up shirt. When he focuses on your trembling sobs and usually sorrowful form, an ache takes hold of his heart and he finds himself clinging onto you. 

You don’t deserve to cry. You’re far too precious and sweet to deserve experiencing such distress. Whoever did this to you, once he finds the culprit, will have hell to pay…

As soon as you feel the secure squeeze of Regulus’ arms around you, your shaking sobs slowly reduce to pitiful hiccups and faint sniffles. Beside your ear, Regulus whispers soft, kind assurances and you’ve never felt so safe. It escapes you that Regulus was actually speak to you instead of the other way around. 

“It’s okay, my flower…” your heart leaps in your chest, “you’re going to be okay; I’m here for you,” 

A/N : i had this idea and parts of it written ages ago and rediscovered it while i was on holiday — finally! i got to finish it haha! i hope you lovelies enjoy, this turned out better than i originally imagined it to go 

NAVI. | PART 0.5

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus arcturus black #regulus x reader #regulus x y/n #regulus imagine #regulus black x you #regulus black x female reader #regulus black x y/n #marauders era #marauders fic #harry potter marauders #the marauders #marauders #regulus black fluff

[totheblood]

cutty love.

pairing: ellie williams x reader

summary: ellie becomes your best friend and you stumble upon her journal

warnings: this is purely fluff, cursing, suggestive themes maybe once? idk very soft

a/n: this is because i want bff ellie and also domestic ellie and also wanted to put eleven labs to the test with their new features so please... enjoy! AI AUDIOS SPREAD THROUGHOUT THE FIC also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses

wc: 2.2k

"all my dreams my dear they are of you."

spring came fast to jackson.

dew painted the grass on early mornings and little patches of snow began to melt into the soil. winter was finally over and you were finally back on farming duty. however, you weren’t as excited as you thought you would be.

patrol was something you would have dreaded a year ago, the idea of entering the outside world terrifying you completely. but as winter came around, and farming became obsolete, maria had warned you you needed to sign up for a new task. your dumbass, however, signed up too late and both stable and kitchen work were all filled up. patrol became your only option. 

on your first day of patrol, you were assigned with dina. she basically held your hand through it: walking into buildings first, showing you how to aim and shoot your gun, and teaching you all the best places to hide. it was an easy day with one encounter with an infected (who dina shot on sight).

your second day you were paired with jesse, who was, to your surprise, gentler. he made jokes when he could tell you were getting scared, always walked with his hand outstretched in front of you when walking into new territory, and taught you how to make a molotov cocktail.  you felt safe with them.

on your third day, you were paired with ellie who was less than kind at first. upon seeing you she rolled her eyes and scoffed, mumbling something like, “why do i always have to be paired with the newbies?” 

to avoid confrontation you simply kept your mouth shut. you were supposed to be partners and you were going to do your best to keep yourself alive. like the others, ellie walked into spaces first and after clearing the area for any infected, started a small fire in the lookout to keep the two of you warm.

you stood at a distance from her where she was placing her palms just above the fire and then rubbing them together for warmth. you watched on with a shiver, shaking as you looked out the window.

“you’re not going to get warm from all the way over there,” ellie spoke up, causing you to snap your head in her direction.

“what?”

“the fire is over here. you have to stand close to get at least a little warm,” she commented, beckoning you over with the wave of her hand, “here, come get warm.”

“oh,” you stepped closer to the fire, sitting down across from her, bathing in the warmth the fire offered.

“you’re not really talkative, huh?” ellie chuckled, taking picking at her nails as she spoke.

“uh, no, i usually am,” you laughed nervously, looking to the raised skin around her nailbeds.

“oh, so you just don’t like me?” her tone was joking, but there seemed to be an ounce of vulnerability to it. her eyes looked up to yours, scanning your face for a reaction.

“no, i just,” you took a deep breath and shrugged, “earlier you said you didn’t want to be stuck with the newbie so i didn’t want to be a bother or anything.”

“shit,” she breathed, pinching the bridge of her nose. all of the skin around her nails were raw and red, “i’m such an asshole. i didn’t mean it like that. i’ve just had a shitty week.”

“no, it’s fine,” you forced a smile, “i understand. i’m just nervous and this is all new to me.”

she paused for a moment, looking you over and taking another deep sigh. 

“i’m not usually an asshole.”

“sure.”

“no, seriously, i’m usually nice.”

“i believe you.”

“ok, i’m kind of nice, but i’m doing my best.”

“it’s fine, i’m also an asshole,” you spit out and she laughed. a full chested laugh that went on for what felt like a minute. it was the kind of laugh were all of her teeth showed and wrinkles formed by her eyes. it made your chest feel warm. 

from that moment on you and ellie became close friends. if you knew you were patrolling with her you would bring her a corn muffin wrapped in fabric. she’d say something about how good of a cook you were or mumble a ‘fuck yeah’ before stuffing half the muffin in her mouth. if she killed any infected later she would say something like, “that was only for the muffin. you’re gonna need to bring me another before i do any more of your dirty work.”

occasionally, she would bring her guitar and show you some of the music she was writing in any downtime you had. she was always so excited too, saying something along the lines of: “let’s try to clear this area as fast as we can so i can show you my new stuff.”

when you sat in front of her, legs crossed in front of you, you watched as a bright blush spread across her face before she sang. 

“this is new, so take it easy on me, okay?”

at some point towards the end of december she came to your house with something wrapped in fabric. her whole face was red, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the snow or her nervousness as she shoved the present into your hand.

“what’s this?” you asked, eyes wide ushering her in from the snow and shutting the door behind you.

“it’s a christmas gift,” she smiled, “i don’t know if you know what christmas is but people used to celebrate it back in the old days. joel told me about it and now we celebrate it every year. it’s basically just a holiday where you give your loved ones… or friends a present. they used to pretend this big fat guy with a beard came down people's chimneys and gave presents to kids who were good but i guess they gave up that idea. santa probably got infected or some shit. anyways, this is for you.”

when you peeled back the fabric, a picture of you sketched out on charcoal was on a piece of thick paper. you looked beautiful. it almost looked as if ellie had spent hours looking at your face and studying all the tiny details of it. not to your knowledge, but she had. 

a gasp fell from your lips as tears welled up in your eyes. you didn’t even have time to thank ellie before you were squeezing her tightly in your arms, causing her to cough. you were literally hugging her so tight she couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t mind it. she took a deep breath and hugged you back, smelling the pine on your hair and skin. 

“i love it, ellie,” you whispered, “thank you.”

when january came around, ellie decided you didn’t know how to hold a gun. most of your shots were misses and the drawback made you stumble back. you were becoming a liability, but mostly ellie feared for your safety. all it took was one fall and you would never be the same again.

so here ellie stood giving verbal directions on how to hold a gun. you, however, were a mess who didn’t know your left from your right.

“your left foot! i said your left foot!”

“this is my left foot!”

“babe, that’s your right.”

“oh,” you switched legs but it wasn’t good enough. ellie came up behind you, placing her hands on your shoulder and fixing your posture. the heat from where her hands were on you radatied throughout your body and went straight down your legs. she stepped closer, placing a hand on your stomach and pressing it lightly. your breath hitched. 

“okay, now move your hand like this,” her free hand moved from the base of your arm to your fingertips. she adjusted your stance slowly. slow enough for it to feel like foreplay, “just like that. yeah, good girl.”

you could feel her breath on your neck where your scarf didn’t cover. it was all too sensual and then SNAP. a sound in the distance made her jump back and step in front of you, her own gun drawn in a matter of seconds.

your gun stance was never revisited after that. 

but now it was spring, and you would no longer be on patrol. as much as you liked spending time with ellie, it was still too much of a risk for you to take when you enjoyed farming so much. when you told ellie a big pout broke out on her face as she dramatically reached for you. 

“what am i going to do without you on patrol?” she whined, squeezing you so hard it made you laugh.

“we can still hang out,” you reminded her, pushing her off you, “plus maybe i’ll be back on patrol next winter.”

“yeah, but i liked having 8 hours of us time. now we will get like 4 hours a day max,” ellie leaned her head back on her couch, the dramatic pout still there. 

“how about we meet here every day after our shifts and have dinner together?” you offered, making her face light up, “i can cook and everything.”

“okay, but you have to sleep over at least once a week,” she demanded

“deal,” you smiled, teeth showing.

“if i’m not here though you can just let yourself in,” she casually commented, “i’ll give you a spare key.”

it went on like that for weeks, you coming over after your shift and making dinner and laughing with ellie about something joel or dina said until you eventually fell asleep on her couch. some nights you would watch a movie together, others you would bake something together (even though ellie usually tapped out when it came to cracking an egg). if ellie was running late or something you would make up time by cleaning up your mess from the kitchen or tidying up the living room, but by that time she would be stumbling through the door and apologizing for being late. 

this night, however, ellie was running extremely late. you had already cleaned both the kitchen and living room and there was still no sight of her. to avoid anxiously pacing around the room and waiting for her, you decided to clean her room. you swept the floors, wiped down her bedside table, and began making her bed before you noticed a notebook tucked in between her bed and it’s frame. 

you pulled it out of its place and examined it. it looked like it was frequently used, the edges of it torn and dirty. the yellow pages of the notebook were slightly hanging out and it looked like pages had been ripped out and stuffed back in. you shouldn’t read this, your mind rang clear. you wanted to respect ellie’s privacy, but curiosity got the best of you. 

you flipped to a middle page, skimming over some entry about how much joel was being an asshole before stopping at your name. your name in her notebook with hearts drawn around it. your name written in pink over and over again. below the different variations of your name was a paragraph, presumably about you. you read it in ellie’s voice.

“another successful patrol. and by successful i mean i tricked her into holding my hand. i probably sound like such a creep but all i want is to be close to her. i want to hold her hand as we walk down the streets of jackson and kiss her in a booth at the diner. when she got scared she would squeeze my hand a little. it made me dizzy. this crush feels like it’s going to ruin me. i think she may ruin me but i don’t even care. all i want is her.”

you smiled, flipping a page, heat rushing to your cheeks as you read another passage about you:

“i sang a song for her today that i wrote about her. she told me my voice was beautiful and asked who it was about. i panicked and told her it was about cat. fucking cat!!! i haven’t thought about cat in fucking forever. i just want to tell her already because this is so fucking embarrassing. she probably thinks i don’t like her but i do. what if she never knows? i’ll tell her eventually… i will.”

you sit down on her still unmade bed, reading the next page.

“i wanted to kiss her so bad today. ugh. her lips were all red and pouty from the cranberry juice and when she smiled her teeth were all red. she asked why i was smiling at her and i told her that her teeth were all red. she looked so embarrassed and got up to clean them. i felt like an asshole but that’s better than being rejected by her right?”

another one.

“we watched curtis and viper today after patrol. she cooked us chicken and then cried because it was her favorite chicken. this girl has the biggest heart in the world. when the movie was done we just talked about what life would be like if the apocalypse didn’t happen. she said she would have been a teacher or some kind of helping profession. she’s fucking sweet. i told her i’d probably be a dentist or a lawyer. something fun. i left out the part where i’d want to come home to her every night. i’m such a loser. i think i love her.”

the last part made you gasp, except the gasp wasn’t coming from your mouth, it came from the person standing in front of you. ellie.

“what are you doing with that?”

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

[spdrvyn]

dating headcanons — MIGUEL O'HARA

( i am unfortunately unable to see atsv until sunday because my parents are busy tonight so ... i'm coping with miguel hcs. enjoy! )

× miguel is touch-starved down to the bone. your hand brushing against his, small grazes of your fingertips on his arm, he'll eat it all up. he's not the type for PDA (aside from very subtle yet romantic gestures) but once the doors are closed, his hands are everywhere on you.

× he's also very intense with his displays of affection, does he bite? he 100% does. he's more than willing to pull you into bruising kisses, more than willing to leave hickies and bite marks along your neck to shoulders to thighs, more than willing to mark you up because it's just a recurring reminder of his undying love for you.

× miguel is also very needy. even if he's moving from building to building, patrolling the streets of nueva york. even if he's carrying an entire spider society on his back, burdened with the fate of the multiverse. even if he's having a liesurely and normal day, you occupy a great amount of space in his mind.

× the moment he comes home to you, all he wants is to hold you in his arms and listen to the angelic sound of your voice. he appreciates your company over anything else, even if both of you are sitting in silence, he'll be gazing into your eyes. ever so grateful that he gets to bask in your comfort, that he's found heaven and it was you.

× let it be said that he's also jealous, denying it would be a wasted effort. he was fine with you meeting new people, it was one of the qualities that you had that he found so admirable. the ability to connect with someone, something he had lacked for the longest time. although, there was a clear line to him and his limits only continue to get pushed if he sees anyone even come just a little close to that line.

× he's shot daggers through people's souls from a distance with his eyes as soon as they got a little too touchy or too flirtatious. you were well aware of his jealousy, not entirely though. at times, he would give the occasional perv a threat that you would disapprove of, a beating or two... hence he keeps that bit hidden from you, for your sake. if death glares weren't enough to keep the average creep away, he'd proudly wrap an arm around your waist and drag you closer to him. it would send them running.

× his flirting isn't top tier, however he praises you to no end. telling you how beautiful you are, how he's so grateful to have you, that you were an angel sent from god, and he loves you more than anything. he definitely uses pet names while doing so as well. mi vida, mi muñeca, mi amor... whatever he can think of. all while he's showering you with kisses.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #fluff #x reader #romance #spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #atsv

[andypantsx3]

part ii of the dragon shouto au : prequel + part i warnings: unedited lol, afab implied fem reader, possessive dragon boyfriend shouto, unrealistically excellent first time, 18+ minors please dni!!

the thing about having a human-shaped shouto on your hands was that he didn't quite seem to understand humans did things differently than dragons.

where before you'd cuddle up against shouto in his dragon form and spend the night insulated under his thick leathery wings, or let him rest his head in your lap as you absently stroked his scales—those things took on an entirely different connotation when you thought about performing them with a human man.

particularly a human man who looked like shouto.

shouto did not appreciate the distinction.

"i am yours and you are mine," he said simply, the third night after he'd transformed.

you'd tried to take him home, at first, unclear about what to do with an entire human man on your hands, but had quickly realized this unwise.

your parents, ordinarily traditional and fussy, had been floored by the audacity of your bringing a man home still unwed. but they had kept their distance once shouto's pupils went slitted, and a familiar guttural noise tore out of him when they attempted to remove you from him, not-quite-human-teeth snapping.

it was exactly as it had been when you'd brought him home as a child, and he a lizard the size of a fat cat. he'd staked an unmistakable claim on you, and any hand that got between you two would be severed.

so you'd taken shouto back out into the field where he'd transformed, in the interest of keeping your family home intact. you'd lit a fire again, camping out with him over night, trying to keep your distance and failing.

"it's different with humans," you said, freezing when shouto's head suddenly appeared in your lap. he looked up at you expectantly, those blue and grey eyes searching your face, a tiny frown on his lovely mouth.

"it is not different. you are mine in any form," he said. a large, elegant-fingered hand caught yours, guiding your hand up to his hair.

you laughed despite yourself, his insistence on being pet all too familiar in any form as well. carefully, you stroked your fingers through the red and white strands, marveling at their silky softness. shouto's eyes slipped closed and he let out a contented huff, long eyelashes sweeping the tops of his cheeks.

your face heated. he was very beautiful.

"in human custom, i can only belong to one man," you said to shouto, unable to keep the dismay from your voice.

you did not want to take a husband, and it would be all the more difficult now that the entire village had seen human shouto trailing after you the last few days, following you as he always did in his dragon form. except now they had all seen very human, very male hands on you, had seen how closely shouto shadowed you, as if your body was an extension of his own, and no space was needed between you.

you knew there was already talk.

"i am one man," shouto rumbled, turning his face into your stomach. something fluttery jumped in your stomach as the feeling of his soft exhalation over your hip bone.

"i meant a husband, shouto," you said. "i am obliged to take a husband."

shouto was quiet a moment, before another slow, hot breath warmed the fabric of your shirt. "you said i was the only boy for you."

something lightning hot raced up your spine, embarrassment mixed with the thrill of the implication. you looked into the fire for something to do with your attention, watching the flames lick over the logs.

"i said that when you were a dragon," you hissed, your ears prickling with heat. "i didn't mean you would be my husband."

a strong arm wound its way around your waist, pulling you that much closer to shouto, locking you against him. a fiery blue eye cracked open, fixing on you with inhuman intensity. the pupil looked a little slitted in the firelight, and you swallowed in apprehension.

"i am yours and you are mine. if that means i am to be your husband then i will be," shouto said with unmistakable decisiveness.

the thing in your stomach fluttered again, and your thighs shifted beneath shouto's head. his other hand gripped the flesh above your knee, holding you in place.

you choked, your hands freezing in shouto's mop of white-and-scarlet hair. "you don't know what that means."

his hands tightened on you. "i have lived among your people nearly as long as you have. i am not unfamiliar with human custom."

your face burned, words slipping out of your reach. did he really understand what he was saying here? you'd known he'd long understood you, but it had never been clearly exactly how much his dragon brain was processing. but now...

"but you can't—if you know what it means—shouto, you can't—"

a hot mouth met the skin of your stomach, just under your shirt, and the words choked off in your throat. a slow, careful nip to your skin made you freeze.

"i will be your husband and you will be mine," he purred, his voice slightly muffled against your skin. his mouth dragged over your hip.

your hand fisted in his hair, gripping on for purchase. shouto did not seem to mind, his mouth mapping the edge of your stomach, your hip, the waistline of your unladylike trousers.

a shaky breath escaped you. "there are parts of a human union, though, shouto, that i'm not sure you, um, quite understand."

the hand at your knee slid up your thigh as the hand at your back disappeared, reappearing at your hip, pulling the waist of your pants a little lower.

"i understand," shouto replied, his mouth meeting the newly exposed strip of skin above your pelvis. it was only his grip on you, the weight of him across your legs that kept you from jumping a mile into the air. "i have taken this form for that reason."

words failed you, their meanings slipping right out of your mind as shouto's mouth moved painfully gently and deliberately lower and lower.

"ah, shouto—" you managed.

shouto hummed, and you felt his eyelashes flutter against the skin of your stomach, though most of his face was obscured by the fall of your shirt.

"you smell like mine," he rumbled into your skin, sounding altogether too pleased. "i will make it so. i will keep you and care for you as you have kept and cared for me."

another trembling breath quivered in your lungs before you found yourself flat on your back on the ground. shouto had somehow managed to keep himself beneath your shirt, only this time his mouth met the underside of your chest bindings.

"you like it," his voice sounded wondering where it issued from beneath your shirt. you'd have found it comical if not for what he was saying. "you like this form—i can smell it."

his weight moved on your legs, shifting into the cradle of your thighs. he was so warm and broad over you, hot as fire even though the shirt and trousers you'd managed to wrangle him into.

you did not like being laid so bare, but shouto was your oldest friend, and your attention was rapidly being subsumed not by his words but by the feeling of your chest bindings coming undone under your shirt.

"shouto—you are, um, of course very handsome," you said, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders. you thought you should push him away to have this conversation from a safer distance, but your arms were barren of the strength to do so, instead clutching him closer. "but you've only been a man for a couple of days. what if there are other women who—oh—oh!"

a hot mouth closed over your left nipple, soft but firm as if in reprimand. "there are no other women. there is only you."

a hot tongue, a little longer than you thought might be normal, laved over the peak. your hips pressed up into shouto without your say so, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. he was doing a little too well under there.

"sho—shouto," you said when he found the other breast, long fingers pulling your bindings down to expose it to him. you'd never had a man's mouth on you before, except for the kiss shouto had given you upon first transforming.

the feeling was mind-numbingly good, and suddenly the idea of a husband—of shouto as your husband—was altogether too appealing, if this is what it was going to be like.

your hips shifted into him again, and you felt his rumbling purr in the meat of your breast.

"my treasure. mine." shouto said when he finally seemed satisfied with the attention he'd lavished on your breasts.

he pulled himself back out of your shirt, leaning in to take your mouth instead as he laid himself out over you. you could feel something firm and insistent press against your inner thigh, hot and hard and unmistakable.

shivers crawled up your skin, little frissons of pleasure.

"say you will be mine," shouto puffed against your mouth, his hands already yanking at your trousers. "please say you will be mine."

he was so handsome over you, your most steadfast friend wearing the most beautiful face you had ever seen, new to you and yet so undeniably familiar, somehow. the sight of him settled that feeling inside you you'd had your entire life, the feeling that the thing you were meant for was just out of reach, just beyond the next corner.

he looked like everything you were meant for—everything that was meant for you.

feeling strangely squirmish and shy, you managed an answer. "i always have been."

a heartbreakingly beautiful grin swept over shouto's mouth, a sweet half-moon. his pupils were unmistakably slitted, his two-toned eyes looking just as they did in his dragon form.

in a few shift movements shouto had you both divested of your trousers, and was pressing slowly, carefully inside you.

the feeling was strange, foreign. but with shouto over you, the weight of him holding you down kept you grounded, and soft kisses to your neck and shoulder kept you just distracted enough as he slid home inside of you.

you felt full in a way you'd never imagined, physically and otherwise. your nerves sparked to life when two of shouto's fingers found their way to where you connected, pressing firmly over your clit. a shivery moan escaped you, and shouto's mouth clamped down lightly over your shoulder.

"mine, mine, mine," he groaned into your skin, flexing his hips. the slide of him inside you was better than you'd known it would be, especially when he cupped the small of your back, pulling you into him at an angle.

between his fingers on your clit, rubbing little insistent circles, and the press of him inside of you, you quickly grew frantic, returning his thrusts with eager motions of your own hips, reveling in the way it sent sparks skittering up all your nerve endings.

your liked the way your breasts pressed into his chest, the firm way he held you to him, the bruises he was sucking into the skin of your neck. talented fingers pinched carefully at your clit, a slurry of sensation.

he seemed determined to work you up, hard and fast, and he was succeeding. you felt like pudding in his hands, melting, dripping, hot over his fingers. every single one of his movements seemed calculated to drive you insane, drive you to writhe against him harder, more desperately.

in no time at all you were gasping his name into the cool night air, chasing the release of an unfamiliar pressure.

"let go, love," shouto said, kissing your mouth again. "let go and be mine."

you nodded, words failing you as something inside of you snapped and a tidal wave of pleasure crashed into you, sweeping away all thought. shouto fucked you right through it, his groans rumbling into growls, full-throated and deep. the slide of him inside you became almost too much and you squirmed underneath him, but couldn't bring yourself to want it to stop.

shouto's thrusts grew faster, messier. you heard his fingers rake the ground at the side of your head as he finally came too, his slender hips grinding into your thigh as he spilled inside of you. he went rigid over you, huffing your name, until finally he relaxed into you, his hard body pinning you to the ground.

"this will be an interesting conversation to have," you said some minutes later, when both of you had settled. your hands found their way into shouto's hair again and he pressed up into them like a pleased tomcat.

"there will be no question now. you are my mate, and i am your husband," shouto said, sounding smug. his eyes were closed but you thought they would be glittering with pleasure if they were open.

"we'll still need to do the human ceremony," you said. "but i can't imagine anyone could stop us."

shouto all but purred. "i will eat them if they try."

you laughed, yanking on his hair. "you will do no such thing."

"then i will fly you off to the nearest cave and mate you so thoroughly no questions could ever be asked," he said instead. "there will be no doubt you are mine."

your thighs clenched involuntarily around his hips, and you could tell by the flutter of his long lashes that he was suppressing a smug expression.

"maybe for the honeymoon," you allowed, trying not to sound too interested.

but shouto was your oldest friend and you were learning he'd long known everything about you. "definitely for the honeymoon," he decided, shifting to pull you into the circle of his arms, tucked safely into his side.

you settled into his embrace, feeling truly content for the first time in your life, certain of the one thing shouto had been insisting this whole time.

you were his, and he was yours. always.

#shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shouto smut #shoto x reader #character: todoroki shouto #dragon shouto au

[earthtooz]

x : AVOIDANCE :*+ﾟ

in which: falling for blade was not on your agenda, so naturally you decide to distance yourself. however, the last thing you'd predicted was blade being upset with the sudden space.

warnings: 2.3k wc, FLUFF, ooc!blade probably bc i'm still trying to figure it out, kafka meddles with the two of you, gn!stellaron hunter!reader who has a past lol, NOT PROOFREAD, idiots in love bc i love that trope, bad writing

a/n: thank you to the anon who gave me this idea :D much appreciated, i had a lot of fun with this one when my angstier fics were draining me af. i hope you enjoy, apologies if it's a little low quality, but it's my child &lt;3

when you first joined the team of stellaron hunters, you didn’t expect to get much out of it, especially since the team looked so cold, calculating, mischievous, and unforgiving, greeting you with vicious smiles and muddy eyes. preemptively, you assumed the most you would receive is acquaintanceship.

however, time has proven you wrong, because on the contrary, you have found comfort, friendship, and stability in the form of this mismatched group.

you never expected to find love either.

but you did, and it might be the worst decision your heart has ever made.

“y/n, there you are. kafka and i are thinking about going out to lunch. want to join?” silver wolf’s voice interrupts your train of thought, disrupting your peace in your private spot amongst the gardens.

“oh, hi silver wolf,” you murmur, shutting your book after shoving in a bookmark. “who else is going?”

“kafka asked blade and he agreed.”

the genius hacker doesn’t notice the way you tense upon hearing a certain swordman’s name. instead, you play it cool by opening up your book again, scanning the pages in hopes of ignoring the racing of your heart.

“i think i’ll pass on this one. thank you though,” you mutter.

“really?” the silver-haired asks, popping her gum before shrugging. “whatever you say. i’m off!”

“bye!”

hearing her footsteps fade, you slump in your seat, your memories with blade hauntingly eminent in your mind. you don’t recall when you fell for him, or why exactly, all you have in your recollection is a series of moments that you look back fondly upon with a full heart, love slowly seeping in to you and causing your affections to grow to the size that they reside at now.

when you had realised, the love had already grown too big to deflate, and dejection struck moments after; a big bang of butterflies in your stomach that all disintegrated straight after.

how brutal- perhaps this was an indication that blade was rubbing off on you too much, and you need to cleanse yourself of his influence.

love, although fickle, was not something that you avidly rejected. despite having lived like a hunted deer, your experiences have been fleeting, building your delicate heart for a life of meeting, falling, then leaving when you least wanted to, needing to run before an arrow pierced you- and certainly not cupid’s one. 

but with blade, everything is different. there is no arrow to run from, not in the life that elio has foreseen for you. for the first time in your life, you can stop running away and try fall into the arms of love with little remorse.

it's just ironic that you fall into the arms of a man who should not be touched.

“y/n’s not coming with us today,” silver wolf reports after meeting up with the other two stellaron hunters.

“oh?” kafka hums, “usually y/n’s always willing to hangout, why’s that?”

“busy or something, i don’t know, i didn’t care to ask.”

the slight scrunch of displeasure in blade’s expression passes by the keen eyes of both kafka and silver wolf. if either of them had noticed then perhaps it would have been a topic of interest, but for the time being, the pair move on (faster than the third member), your unusual absence dismissed in favour of where to get food.

as the days turn into nights and elio issues more missions and mumbles more futures, blade feels as though he sees you less and less.

it’s not intuition more than it is you purposefully ignoring and evading blade in your everyday, though.

“good morning,” kafka’s voice greets when she walks in to the cafeteria, where you were eating breakfast alone. setting down your phone, you regard her with a mouth full of bread. “gross. at least swallow first.”

“screw off,” you murmur. “how did you sleep?”

“fine fine, i woke up in the wrong position though and my neck is killing me, but what about you? seems like you’ve been up a while.”

“i’ve been up since asscrack of dawn.” 

the purple-haired regards you with amusement. “why’s that?”

“body clock or whatever,” you lie, staring down at your glass of water.

“i see,” kafka hums half-heartedly, as if seeing right through you. “well, i’m going to get some coffee, i’ll be right back.”

“mk.”

you’re left on your own for only a few minutes, waiting patiently in silence for kafka to return. the morning is cool and pleasant, and the smell of rain is still heavy in the air as the morning dew lightens the atmosphere. the weather will surely get hotter as the day matures, but for now, you enjoy the gentle caress of sunlight on your back.

or rather- you were enjoying the gentle caress of the sun, but the methodicalness of it all is ruined when you spot a certain figure with dark, long hair beside kafka.

suddenly the last thing you know is peace and calm, and the abrupt, painful scraping of your chair against the floor symbolises that.

“going somewhere?” kafka asks.

picking up your scraps, you avoid blade’s gaze. “yeah! i- uh, realised that i have some documents to drop off for elio by twelve or whatever.”

“won't you stay to keep us company for breakfast,” the purple-haired tempts, “it feels like it’s been so long since we’ve spent some proper time together.”

“has it?” you laugh nervously and kafka easily picks up the pitchiness of your tone. “i’ll make it up soon, i promise, i’ve just been overflowed with things to do.”

“alright. you be off then. don’t work too hard.”

“i won’t. my head is remaining tight on my shoulders, don’t you worry!” you reassure before scrambling away, feeling like your legs could not be any slower as you retreat away from blade’s scrutinising gaze. when you round the corner, you sigh a breath of relief. 

it’s laughable and simultaneously admirable how dedicated you are about dodging every interaction possible, but for the record, you think you’re doing quite well. not that space was doing many favours for your heart, but persistence is key. 

whoever believed that distance makes the heart grow fonder just clearly didn’t try enough, because yours feels like it’s about to hammer out of your chest with how fast it is racing, and the sensation is equivalent to something like pain rather than fondness.

“i’m worried,” blade mutters, gaze lingering on where you’d just disappeared. “and why does y/n talk like i’m not right here?”

“aww, are you upset?” coos kafka, taking a seat. the swordsman mimics her.

“why wouldn’t i be? it feels like y/n has been ignoring me as of late.”

kafka hums thoughtfully, swirling her coffee cup around.

“do you know anything about that?”

“nup. nothing at all,” she answers, feigning ignorance to the many suspicions that are bubbling around in her mind. the last thing kafka is, is blind, your unusual behaviour has not bypassed her perceptive eye at all, but she believes she has uncovered the reasoning as to why; said reasoning being a certain swordsman.

the revelation is definitely interesting, and she might just be able to give the push you both need.

“y’know what, bladie? if it concerns you that much, i’d say you go check up on y/n later,” kafka suggests.

“why not you?”

“i’ll be busy, but i think some support in dire times is just what y/n needs.”

“okay. fine.”

when blade gathers the courage to check up on you, like kafka recommended, the time is nearing 5pm. the sun is beginning to cool, the animals are retreating into their nests, and the big, bad, intimidating stellaron hunter is roaming around the archives, where you’re situated to work, hoping to locate you.

it takes a few laps around to finally find your placement because you’re fast asleep, only identifiable to blade by the jacket you hung on the back of your chair.

the sight of you hunched over your desk over a multitude of forms and papers causes a wave of concern (however much he can feel) to wash over blade, and suddenly, he does something completely foreign to him: dote over someone.

gently lifting your jacket to cover your shoulders, he stills when you shift a little, your eyebrows furrowing in your sleep. deciding to leave you alone, all blade spares is one lasting look at your vulnerability before leaving. 

he wonders what it is that could be making you so frustrated. 

(if only he knew). 

a few days later, kafka confronts you about the suspicions that’s been creeping to the forefront of her mind.

“did you do something to piss a certain bladie off?” 

kafka’s saccharine voice is laced with mischief as she leans towards you, chin resting on the palm of her hand. she certainly does not miss the way you tense up at the mention of the swordsman’s name and her smirk widens when you shuffle away, subconsciously turning away, as if avoiding the subject.

“i can’t think of why i would have,” you murmur, crossing your arms. “why?”

“oh, nothing, he’s just been complaining and crying a lot recently.”

“he does that all the time.”

“so he does,” your fellow stellaron hunter hums. “except he’s mentioning your name a lot more nowadays.” 

you freeze. “what?”

“hm? did i say something peculiar?”

inhaling a deep breath, you steady yourself. you know what kafka wants out of you and you’re not going to give it to her despite how innocent and pretty she spins the web to look. after all these years together, you hope to have learnt a thing or two about how to avoid her snare.

“what is blade saying about me?” you quiz. 

she blinks at you. “why so curious if you haven’t done anything?” 

“can i not ask about something that involves my name? besides, he’s my friend, i want to know what he’s saying,” you lean against the back of the couch, trying to calm the involuntary shake in your legs. you despise that the slightest mention of blade can cause a bottomless pit to form in your stomach and it’s not because of how intimidating or threatening he is. 

no, it’s because you’ve fallen for him, hook, line, and centre.

and blade would have to die before you ever tell him.

“mostly just grumbles about wondering where you are,” kafka expands, waving her hands about to match her words. “he asked silver wolf and i if you’ve been talking to us and when we said ‘yes’, he looked pissed! when i asked why he was being a sourpuss, he just stormed off.”

“so temperamental, that man,” she sighs. then, she looks back at you with those half-lidded eyes that have always gotten her what she wants, and in this case, they’re answers. “so tell me, y/n, what did you do to our bladie to have him all riled up like this?”

“nothing. absolutely nothing.”

“are you sure?”

“positive.”

“positive?”

you avoid her curious gaze. “positive.”

“maybe i phrased the question wrong. has bladie done something to you instead?”

panic settles within you. “no,” you lie through your teeth. “he hasn’t.”

“so if i asked you why you left breakfast so abruptly that day, you wouldn’t say that it’s because of him?”

“i had work to do, kafka, you know how busy my job gets.”

“i know, i know,” she persists, “then why weren’t you in a hurry before blade arrived that morning?”

you don’t know how to refute that, letting silence speak volumes instead.

“and why did you skip out on lunch with silver wolf and i? was it because we also invited a certain someone?”

“okay! fine, you’ve got me. what do you want to know?” you explode, tossing your phone on the couch in frustration. 

“so it is about blade?” questions your coworker.

“yeah. it is.”

“what about him? did he do something to hurt you? you know he’s accidentally mean sometimes-”

“it’s not that, he’s nothing but a sweetheart.”

“so what’s the problem?”

“that is the problem! he’s just… he’s him.”

“is that bad?”

“for my heart, yes.”

“oh my- so you like him?”

you exhale exasperatedly, “don’t act like you haven’t already figured that out, kafka.”

the cheshire smile she then flashes sends shivers down your spine. for whatever reason, an oppressive feeling grows in your gut, resembling something like a warning.

“you’re right, i knew,” she flaunts. then, her gaze cuts to look behind you. “but i don’t think blade did.”

your heart lurches out of your chest with enough force to pull you off the couch and you stumble around to see that, lo and behold, blade was indeed standing in the hallway. the expression he wears tells you enough; he heard you, he knows.

kafka somehow sneaks her way out of the room, leaving you alone to deal with the face of rejection. it’s daunting being in the same space as him after so long, you almost forgot about the intimidating pressure that blade naturally exudes and projects in every space he enters.

“hi,” you start, looking away. 

he stalks over to you, footsteps soundless before stopping a feet in front of you. instead of saying something, the swordsman merely gazes down at you whilst you keep your eyes glued to the side.

“can you reject me already? the silence is kinda killing me,” you snap after a few seconds, crossing your arms protectively. 

instead of obeying to your request, blade does something completely unexpected; he very gently lifts your chin with his hand, and red eyes bore right into yours. is it odd to feel seen in your demise? because blade is looking- no, surveying you with such immense focus and clarity that your heart stills, frozen in position because it wants him to see the most picturesque part of you. 

(he sees it, but he wants to know more of you. the pretty, the ugly, the likeable, and the unwanted.)

“would you like to go on a date?” he asks.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

#this was awful </3 #blade x reader #blade hsr x reader #ren x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x gn!reader #blade x gn!reader #blade fluff #blade x reader fluff

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

The crushing | joel miller x f!reader, 5.2k

Summary: This is the story of a man who had everything in the palm of his hand and traded it all for an empty space in the hollow of his heart. Or This story follows Joel, two to three years after he cheated on his wife.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, ANGST, cheater!Joel, Joel's POV, this is NOT “The Falling” from Joel's POV, brief mention of smut (p i v) but nothing too graphic (I think), self-loathing, depression, therapy, flashbacks and memories from the past, alcohol consumption, Tommy being a supportive brother (eventually), as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Ok, so, Joel gave me a whiplash on this one, he was either staring at me through the screen giving me nothing, or he was mumbling unintelligibly in my ear while I was trying to keep up with him. It started out as a final chapter, but I really think that this part should be Joel's POV and the next and -probably- final one should be the resolving, however that may come. I guess it can be read as a standalone, but if you're interested, it's a sequel to “The Falling”. I edited it seven thousand times because I kept adding things along the way, so I hope it all makes some sense and there are not too many mistakes.. Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all! 🥰😘

P.S.: I just wanted to take a moment and let you know that I really appreciate everyone who has read, liked, commented, reblogged and asked about “The Falling”. I honestly didn't think a single soul would take the time to read that kind of story. It means more than you know and I didn’t take lightly how close to home this fic hit for some people; yet you’ve given it a chance, sharing some of your own experiences with me. I love you all, take care and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! 🥹🫂

Dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics

previous | next

...need your reassurance...

...your only focus…

...for the foreseeable future...

He did make it his sole focus. Because of course, he closed the deal, even after he left that damn table like a madman. He still found a way to get what he wanted. That's the man he was. And he wasn't sure if he hated himself for it or not. But self-loathing was a daily occurrence now, so one more reason added to the list was nothing he couldn't handle.

For two years he would wake up every day, is it called waking up if he doesn’t sleep at all?, he would work his ass off, he would go home, he would sink into despair and then he would start all over again the next day. A vicious cycle consisting of 730 days in a row. The deafening silence within the walls of the house was excruciating, the loneliness was unbearable. Even the light penetrating through the windows seemed different than when you were there with him, a dullness surrounding every corner of the now barely lived in space.

You. He hadn’t seen your face in 730 days. He hadn’t smelled your scent or touched your soft skin. He barely listened to your voice anymore, any form of unavoidable communication, you preferred to be conducted by the lawyers, or via text messages, at the most. At the 731st one, he finally knew, something had to change. He couldn’t repeat another day, like all the others that came and went. He simply couldn’t.

Tommy suggested that therapy might help Joel, a few times, but he refused every one of them. Maria was keeping her distance, her place was delicate, being his brother’s wife but also his wife’s best friend. Surprisingly, she was the one who finally got through to him.

“Are you gonna stay a recluse for the rest of your miserable life, then?” Maria wonders, switching her gaze between Joel and the dining room. Everything was untouched, as you left them when you moved out, but the place felt empty, depressing, probably mirroring Joel’s existence.

Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m not a recluse..”, he snarls through his teeth, rolling his eyes at her. He was more than eager to be done with the dinner his sister-in-law insisted on having in his house and be left alone, in his natural state. Alone. Infuriating woman.

“What do you call that?”, Maria persists, goddamn lawyer to the bone.

“What?!” Joel spits back pissed off, looking at his brother next, for support.

“That!” she gestures around his body and his surroundings. “The way you go on for the past two years! Either get over it or do something about it!”, she doesn’t hold back, even when Tommy proposes a gentler approach. Yeah, look where it got you, is the paid answer, so Tommy steps back, shaking his head and raising his hands up in surrender.

“You’ve got him on a leash, hm?”, Joel jokes absentmindedly, “Can you breathe alright, Tommy boy?”, earning himself a hard glare from Maria.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..” Maria mutters, causing Tommy’s eyes to widen in horror.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Joel retorts doing a double back at her.

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”, Maria throws her napkin on her plate and leaves the room. Joel remains silent, pondering the meaning of her words. It would be a long time before he understood what she meant.

Therapy was hard.

Therapy was hard because he had to do it for himself. He had to concentrate on himself. He thought, being the contractor that he was, that he would walk into the room, get the answers he needed and fix his marriage, just as he rearranged the bricks and the wood and the steel on the construction sites.

But this wasn’t about his marriage. His marriage and the way it crumbled down was the aftermath, he came to learn. It was the outcome of insecurities, selfishness, lack of communication, ungratefulness.

He got it all wrong. Everything. Every little thing. He had to rewire his brain and change every point of view he was holding onto. Honesty. Honesty was the key.

“Why didn’t you reach out to your wife after that night?”, his therapist insists.

“I respected her boundaries.”, Joel was quick to respond.

“And what were those?”

“She didn’t want to see me.”

“Did she say that?”

“No-, I mean-, the way she left that night, she didn’t say much in general. But she blocked my number, so.”, he shrugs in defence.

“So, how can you be so sure that she didn't want to see you? Even if you're right, it doesn't mean that she didn't expect a reaction from you, or that you weren't allowed to try, if that’s what you wanted.”

“Why would she? I upset her, she needed time to think, work things out.”, Joel explains.

The therapist swipes her fingers over her lips, contemplating her approach. “Joel, you walk into your bedroom, into what is supposed to be a safe place and you see your partner with another person in an intimate moment. How does that make you feel? Just say the first words that come to mind.”, his therapist changes the point of view.

Joel shudders just at the thought of it. You, naked, flushed, lips parted and swollen, skin sweaty, breaths short and pupils blown wide, coming for anyone other than him. It would utterly destroy him. “Furious, pissed, betrayed, heartbroken.. I think I would lose it, if I’m honest.” he admits instantly, in his haste to throw the abomination of this image from his thoughts.

“I see. But in her case, you think your wife was just upset?”

“No, of course not.” Joel slightly frowns, shaking his head.

“Do you think she felt all those feelings that you just described to me?”

“I believe so, yes.”, god this is so hard.

“You believe so?” the therapist pushes, again.

Joel’s nostrils flare from the sharp inhale, “I know so.”

“So, she wasn’t just upset.” the therapist concludes and Joel agrees without meeting her eyes, “No, she wasn’t.”

Over time, Joel came to realize that his choice of words was a subconscious attempt to diminish the seriousness of his actions.

“You said in a previous session that you gave space to your wife to work things out.”

“Yeah, it was only fair.”, Joel confirms.

“So, it was hard for you to give her that space?”

“Yes, of course, I missed her every day.”

“Was that a constant in your relationship?”, the therapist wonders.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“How did you work things out as a couple, before? I assume you had difficult times as partners, no?”

“Nothing major to be honest, my wife was a very calm and reasonable person. If anything occurred she would talk to me about it.”

“And how did you respond to that?”

“Uh, I was there to listen, we always found a solution together as a couple.”

“Hmhm, so, what changed this time?”

“What do you mean?” He knew exactly what she meant.

“Why didn’t you talk to her? Communicate with her? Maybe help her see your side of things, like you did before, find your way out of this together, as partners.” his therapist explains. “And even before the infidelity, did you let her know that something was bothering you, that you felt differently?”

"I didn't feel differently about my wife. My feelings for her never changed.", he immediately corrects her. "My love for her was never the problem," he confesses and it's the first time since his therapy began that he's shared something so personal, so private.

“But there was a problem, something was wrong if you felt the need to be intimate with another woman. So, why did you keep that from her?”

Joel opens his mouth already knowing he does not have an answer. Or that he doesn't want to give one. He shakes his head, raising his brows in a silent admission that he can’t answer that. Or he won't. His gaze is fixed on a loose thread on the fabric of the couch, his fingers keep picking on it.

“Joel?”

“I- I don’t know what you want me to say, I don’t know.” he keeps shaking his head. He can’t answer that. He won't.

He was so angry when he left the session that day. He was so angry at you. He was angry at your honesty, your clarity, your courage to have a mind of your own and to speak it freely, knowing full well that probably no one else shared the same opinions as you did. That's what he loved most about you, but now he hated it.

“Own it, Joel. Own what you have done. At least that way it will be worth something. Otherwise it was all for nothing.”

This was one of the last things you said to him on the phone, while he was trying to persuade you to change your mind about the divorce. You were always so brave about those matters. Matters of the heart, of integrity. He remembers you always talking about things that he found admirable but utopian. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

“I need to be able to sleep at night. I need to own my decisions; not because I’m always right, far from it, but at least I know I’m being honest with myself. And that matters.” he recalls one of your late-night talks.

You usually found it easier to share your most vulnerable thoughts once you were thoroughly fucked and satiated. When Joel held you in his arms, your breaths almost shared over the same pillow, your scents and your fluids mixed together.

“We’re all imperfect beings, flawed; we all feel embarrassed when we fuck up,” you continue, “it’s hard to admit our mistakes to others, I get that. But deep down we always know what we’re doing and why we’re doing it. Admitting it only helps us to be present in our lives.”

“Be present?”, Joel seems fascinated by the way your mind weaves your thoughts together into deeply rooted beliefs.

“Yes, my love, there's no greater freedom than to live your life truthfully.” you smile at him, softly. Your sleepy eyes roam his face affectionately. Your fingertips caress his jawline, your thumb pressing lightly against the bare patch of his beard. He can feel your devotion pouring from your fingers and sinking into his skin at that moment.

“That’s one of my greatest fears, you know. Living my life in ignorance, in a lie.”, you whisper your deepest insecurity against his soft lips. His hold on you tightens as he rolls you onto your back, nestling his hips between your welcoming thighs. You are safe in these arms. His arms. You surrender to him, body and soul. You can feel his growing erection pressing between your folds, already wet from your combined releases. He tenderly brushes his lips against yours and slowly licks his way into your parted mouth, as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He enters you in one fluid, slow thrust, his warm exhale cooling your wet lips. “Then let me give you something real.”

Thinking back to those moments, Joel couldn't reconcile himself to the fact that he was the one who had brought that fear of yours to life. What broke him was that it was not a lie. Your life together had not been a lie. He loved you. In fact, he was burning up for you. He was a man of control, but not with you. Never with you. You consumed his every thought; being around you for too long made his lungs constrict in pain, begging for a deep breath. Sometimes he was worried sick that if he completely let himself love you like he needed to, he would suffocate you. He loved you. And it killed him that his actions suggested otherwise.

But at some point he had to be honest with himself. He was just protecting his ego. He was trying to get the upper hand out of a shitty, compromising situation. He wasn't being thoughtful, he was being selfish. He was biding his time. He thought the longer he left ‘it’ untouched, the less it would hurt when the inevitable time of confrontation came. He was scared out of his mind that he would lose you forever. No second chances, no redemption, no reconciliation.

No lingering scent on his pillow as your hair pools there, under his chin, as you nestle your face between his neck and shoulder, breathing him in. No laughter through the enormous house, damn, why did he build it so big; you never clarified what the disbelief in your eyes meant when he said he built this house for you, while he pulls you up on your feet for a silly cowboy dance.

No more gentle touches, no more noses brushing together as a silent goodbye in the kitchen before you rush off to work. No more turning around just before you open the door to leave, running to him like a little girl, giving him quick, hungry pecks on the lips while he laughs on your mouth, squeezes your butt cheek and slaps it playfully to say goodbye. Later, baby, he would promise you, his teeth nipping at your earlobe and he could feel your skin crawling with anticipation.

No more I love yous, either breathed, either whispered, either panted, as he makes a home for himself inside your warmth.

When did he fuck you last? He used to have you every day. You craved it every day. You craved him. Why did he stop telling you he loved you every chance he got? When was the last time you said it?

A week before that fateful night, when you touched him longingly, aching for him to touch you back and he told you he had work to do, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. Why the hell did he say that? Why did he sit there and watch the light fading from your eyes? I love you, you said with a sigh against his temple and walked out of his office defeated. Why did you say that? Did you know? Did you suspect? Why didn’t you fight him? You should have said something, anything, pushed him, punched him in the chest, woken him up. Would he have woken up? Or did he need that to come to his senses? Does he have to fall? Does this falling ever stop? Does he have to let you go? Will you come back to him? Does he deserve you?

Days blurred seamlessly into one another. Joel drifted further and further away from everyone. The house haunted him, all the progress he was making within the therapy walls was dissipating once he stepped inside the cold space of his empty house. Leaving the confines of it was his first thought in the morning, while he hurriedly dressed to go to his office far earlier than necessary and his last when he closed his eyes, as he laid his weary limbs on the couch, chasing still your now long gone scent on its fabric, knowing another sleepless night was his only companion until the first rays of sunlight hit the floor-to-ceiling windows to announce the beginning of another day.

People at work tiptoed around him, not knowing how to act. It was as if he was there, but not really. He was focused solely on the Marks project, mechanically going through board meetings, paperwork and supervising the construction site. He. Just. Wasn’t. There.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

He simply stares at the text message for a good full minute, his thumbs hovering over the screen of his phone. This was one of the rare occasions you had initiated communication with him, always about the progress of the divorce.

No, no, I won’t, the little toddler in him screams, stamping his little feet on the ground.

The papers are not ready.

Joel texts back. He keeps it simple, frightened he might not get an answer back.

Joel, we both know they are. I don’t want any of your assets or your money; this is an easy signature, please.

An easy signature? You think he cares about the houses, or the cars, or the money?

You know I can’t accept that. The house is yours and so is a good part of the money.

The point was to share this house together, Joel, don’t you think us splitting up kind of defeats the purpose? And what on earth makes you think I would ever want to go back in there?

So, there’s nothing I can do to make this easier for you?

Easier? You think money or property can make up for what you’ve done?

Of course not, I wasn’t implying anything like that. Just wanna do something for you, anything.

Can you turn back time?

Of course, he can't. So, he doesn't know what to say to that. He just keeps staring at the screen, lost in thought. After 2 minutes another text follows.

?

You know I can’t..

Sign the papers. Please.

“Is there anything in particular you want to talk about today, or should I take the lead?”

“Actually I’ve been thinking a lot about that night.”, Joel suggests for the first time. He usually lets the therapist decide where to steer the conversation, then simply refuses to elaborate until he feels ready to talk.

“What about it?”, he shifts his gaze from the window to the direction of her voice.

“I should probably rephrase that. I’m always thinking about that night, repeating it in my head again and again and I’m troubled by something I realized.”

His therapist nods to signal that she's listening.

“Why did she just leave? The more I think about it, the more it doesn’t make sense to me. She just left. No shouting, no breaking things, no attacking either me or-”, her. “Why she didn’t stay? Why she didn’t insist that I leave? She was just- so quiet.”

The therapist smiles in recognition of Joel's near breakthrough. They were beginning to get somewhere, his empathy nudging him under the surface.

“I'm really glad you mentioned that, Joel, so I'd like to take you back to that night and try to understand what might have been going through your wife's mind at that moment," she explains.

“So, she walks into the house, finds her safe space violated by her husband, and she chooses to handle the situation calmly and quietly-” Joel tries to stop her, but she already knows what he's going to ask. “I can't tell you why she chose that path, that's for her to answer, only she knows why.” His therapist continues, “She is making one request of you and one request only, can you tell me what it is?”

“She asked me to leave the house.”

“Hmhm.” the therapist looks at him expectantly.

“I just wanted to talk to her.”, Joel elaborates, “I thought that if I refused to leave, she would accept to listen to me.”

“So you forced your needs on her, while she was in a particularly fragile state of mind.”

“I should have made my intentions clearer, you mean?”

“I mean, that maybe you shouldn’t have had any expectations in the first place. Why do you think was so important to you, to explain yourself right at that moment?”

“Because I knew it was probably the last time I would see her for a while, I just wanted to ease her pain, why is that so wrong? Should I be indifferent? Would that be better?”

“Did it ever occur to you that you might be depriving her of her right to choose?” Come on, Joel, break some eggs.

Joel now begins to make connections. He rubs his hand over his face, the realization of what has really happened crushing him. “Oh, god, I-” He's been so selfish from the start. He hasn't shown you any respect, not even at this delicate moment. He didn't give you a choice as to whether you wanted to listen to him or not. He didn't even let you choose where you wanted to stay. He just made you leave the house. Did he make you believe he wanted you to leave? That he wanted her to stay? Because he didn’t. Fuck. “-I never thought about it like that.”

Fuck.

How could he be so blind? Why was he so blind?

His therapist insisted on it. Because no matter how much progress Joel made over the course of a year, he never revealed the true reason behind his infidelity.

“Joel, we’ve talked about a lot of things; you’ve tried really hard to make this all about your wife and about understanding what she was feeling and how your actions have affected her, but as I keep reminding you”, she smiles understandingly, “you’re the one in therapy, you need to heal your wounds before you even attempt to heal hers. And although it is in fact a really noble thought, this” she gestures between them, “can only work if you do it for yourself. I know it may sound selfish, but I promise you, it is not. It is the exact opposite.”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”, his voice hoarse from sleep as he answers the door after the insistent knock at it. Tommy looks at him surprised once he opens it, “You’re sleeping, already?”. No, he wasn’t. He wouldn’t call it that. But when he goes almost a week without any proper rest, passing out is the right word for what he’s doing. “Yeah, I guess I dosed off..” Joel lies. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” Tommy responds as he squeezes himself through the door to enter the house. “Yeah, sure, come on in.”, Joel mutters under his breath. “You just saw me at work this morning, is everything all right?”

“I just came to check on you.” Tommy confesses uncomfortably.

“You could have called.”

“Would you have answered?” Tommy deadpans.

Touché.

“Tell Maria I’m fine, Tommy, no need to worry about me; go spend the night where it counts.”, Joel replies in an attempt to push him away, as he walks farther into the house, rounding the kitchen island.

“Hey, brother, I’m here, I am here for you.” Tommy’s eyes narrow in pain and concern as he stares at his sibling's back, following behind him.

Joel exhales hard through his nose, his grip tight as he grabs the edges of the counter, his head lowering between his shoulder blades.

“You shouldn’t, nobody should.” Joel sighs, rubbing the pads of his fingers across his forehead.

“Ok, that’s enough.” Tommy snaps at him. “Enough self-loathing, enough resignation. Enough. You’ve punished yourself enough.”

Joel laughs at that. “Is that right? Is it enough for you? What about her?” he asks, his head turned to the side, looking at his brother over his shoulder.

“What?” Tommy is genuinely confused.

Joel turns his back, resting his waist on the edge of the counter, now looking straight at Tommy. “I should have what? Just get on with my life? Let it all be water under the bridge? Disrespect her even more?”

“Jesus..” Tommy mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other resting on his hip, his eyes shut in frustration.

“Are you doing this for her? Does she even know that?”

“It doesn’t matter, Tommy!” Joel raises his voice, exasperated. “I’m not doing this for her, I’m not doing anything for her, apparently and that’s the problem.”, his voice breaks, the lump in his throat too big to push down. “She’s not here anymore, Tommy.” he’s standing fully on his feet now, pushing himself away from the counter, leaning slightly forward, like he’s trying to make his brother understand; his eyes are glazed, Tommy had never seen him so devastated before. “She’s gone. I’ve lost her.”, his palms clenched in fists in front of his chest, resisting the urge to wrap them around his shirt and rip it to shreds, as he wants to do with his heart.

“I thought therapy was working..” Tommy whispers, his eyes dropping to the floor beneath him.

“Oh, it’s working, all right!” Joel chuckles in irony, sniffing his nose. “I’m getting a front-row seat, witnessing what a piece of shit I am-”

“Hey!” Tommy tries to cut him off.

“-what on earth was she doing with me to begin with, is beyond me.”

“HEY!” Tommy's eyes bulge out of his sockets, angry at his brother's self-deprecating words. Joel bends his waist forward, puts his elbows on the island in front of him and lets his head sink in again.

“Ok.” Tommy breathes deeply to ground himself, his hands in a position of a prayer in front of his mouth, “Ok, we could both use a drink.” he realizes, as he moves to open the cupboard to grab two tumblers and the whiskey from the shelf with the drinks. “..or five.”

The two brothers drink their first round in silence, both calming their nerves down. Tommy refills their glasses without asking; he knows this is going to be a long night.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Tommy begins, pushing Joel’s drink back towards him. Joel wringles his brows in confusion, “What are you talking about? You’re always there for me.”

“No, I haven’t, not really.” Tommy admits, “I let Maria take over when all this happened and I’m sorry.”

“There was nothing you could do, Tommy, don’t sweat it.”

“Let me say this, please.” Tommy raises his hand, his palm facing his brother. “I was just- fuck, we all knew how much you loved her, how much you loved each other, so when it all went down, I just didn’t know how to deal with it. What to say to you, how to comfort you. I didn't know how to deal with you.”

“You blamed me.” Joel says matter-of-factly.

“No-”, Tommy weakly refuses but Joel shakes his head dismissively, interrupting him. “It’s ok, Tommy, you should.”

Tommy looks embarrassed, his cheeks slightly pinkish, not only from the whiskey. “It’s just that I- I couldn’t reconcile the image of the man you were with her, with.. you know..”, he stutters.

“..the image of a cheater. Say it.” Joel adds.

Tommy shakes his head, like he still can't believe what's happened. “Besides, while she was staying with us those first few weeks I saw how devastated she was, man- she was a shell of a woman, so I was confused, I didn’t know how-”

“Tommy. Tommy, it’s fine.” Joel feels his skin crawl visualizing you like that in his head, cutting his brother off once again; he deserves every ounce of mistrust and he knows it.

“No, it’s not.” Tommy insists. “Yes, you fucked up. Brother, you really did. You did a number on her-”, Joel’s body tenses instantly at his brother’s words, his jaw clenching as his eyes darken, moving down to his hands, his grip on the tumbler tightening, his knuckles turning white and Tommy stops abruptly, “shit, sorry, I didn’t mean-”, his face twitches with regret.

“It’s the truth. That’s exactly what I did.” Joel’s gaze seems detached as if he's somewhere else right now.

“What I meant to say, is that I should have been there for you in spite of what has happened. I can see you're suffering, it's taking its toll on you, it has been for some time now; tell me what I can do. How can I help you?” Tommy seems almost desperate, like he’s the one in need of redemption.

Your text flashes through his mind, can you turn back time?, making him smile bitterly.

“Can you turn back time?” Joel's repeating your question and as the words leave his mouth he can feel your presence next to him. That's the most he felt of you for the last three years. He's almost blissful.

“You know I can't.” Tommy sighs. Joel laughs earnestly, the irony of the moment too good not to appreciate.

“Joel, brother, please, just talk to me. Help me understand. You act like you’re the one who’s been cheated on. So, what happened? Why did you do it?” Tommy is pleading with him to give him anything.

Silence fills the room for much longer than either of them would like. Joel feels torn between telling his brother everything or keeping his mouth shut. He wants to tell him, he hasn’t told a soul, but he’s not sure he can get the words out. He’s not sure he can bear to hear the words coming out of his mouth. He’s not sure he can substantiate it, make it real. Because that’s how it feels. He talks about it and it becomes real.

But maybe this is the right thing to do. That’s what needs to be done. He needs to talk about it. He needs to tell the truth and admit the pain he’s caused. Make it real for you, too. Perhaps it is time for him to give you what is rightfully yours. Acknowledgment.

Joel’s made up his mind. He’s gonna talk to Tommy. He lifts his glass to down his drink for some liquid courage, freezing his hand in mid-air as the next words fall from his brother’s mouth. “First of all, who was it?”

“What?” Joel's eyes search Tommy’s through his glass for an explanation.

“Who did you do?”, Tommy clarifies.

Joel feels like he’s been struck by lightning. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Who did you fuck, Joel?”, Tommy begins to feel confused, are they not on the same page here?

“You don’t know?”, Joel can barely speak now, his voice low in shock.

“No one does, not even Maria; she never told anyone.”

You told nobody? Not even your best friend? Why on earth would you do that? Did you feel ashamed? Was it just too much to talk about?

But his brain takes pity on him, helping him for once to understand. He’s connecting the dots while your voice fills the corners of his mind through his memories. His head is swarming with images of you standing in that walk-in closet, remembering what you said the last time he saw you. You’re the one I married, not her. I expected better from you, Joel, not her.

You were right.

It didn’t matter who it was. That is why. He was the one making the choice. He was the one breaking his promises, breaking your trust, breaking your heart; breaking you. He was the one who should have known better. He was the one who should have been honest. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

He feels a fresh wave of pain scattering through his body. He welcomes it. Damn, he’s craving it. He’s glad you chose to withhold the identity of the woman. Not because somehow it’s making it easier for him to defend himself, on the contrary.

There’s no one else to blame. Nobody. Just him. All of the anger, the resentment, the disappointment, all of them on him. He embraces them all. Everything. He will take it all, swallow it down and let it rot inside of him.

Joel tells Tommy everything. Everything, but her name.

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Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fandom #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #fanfic #joel miller #joel miller angst #infidelity joel miller #joel miller au #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #hbo the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #joel smut #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel x you #joel x oc #angst fic

[eleteo125]

"Be Mine or You Will Burn"

Rollo x GN!Reader

AN: Me and my friend are Rollo fans and they've inspired me to write this idea out 🤣

You were simply just walking around admiring the scenery of Noble Bell where you went back to the cathedral to appreciate the artistry of the stain glass. Each panel depicting how Judge Claude Frollo and his accomplishments.

Rollo, the school’s student council president has welcomed the NRC students by giving them a tour but his obvious disdain for magic users made it clear that he was rushing to get the tour done as fast as possible to get away from them. Heck you would even bet that the only reason he was able to get through the whole tour was because he only set his attention towards you barely minding the other guests. He sometimes casts a watchful eye on them but other than that he doesn’t particularly engage with them compared to you.

With those signs in display, everyone from NRC has come to the conclusion that them being invited here has an ulterior motive to it. Briefly shaking those thoughts from your mind, you admired the lights coming through the different colored windows surrounding you in a colorful halo.

My what a beautiful sight indeed.

Magic wielder or not, you’re still a student from NRC so of course Rollo has kept a close eye on you when freely strolling around the school. But he can’t help the fact that you’re devoid of any magic at all has him deeply fascinated. And to think to mingle around those…ahem.

Do not be fooled he’s only keeping watch of you because he can tell that everyone from NRC are quite attached to you especially that dragon fae. What better way to keep them in check when he has you close and in his clutches.

Walking towards you he silently stood in behind you. He held in a small chuckle as he saw you’re awestruck face looking at the beautiful work of art. “Impressed?”

Jumping a little bit in surprise, you quickly looked behind to see him “O-oh! Yes, I haven’t seen a stained glass window in person before, just through pictures.” You confessed

“Hmph of course such beauty is painstakingly crafted by hand of course you won’t see a lot of it. Craftsmanship that took people’s skill and talent with no assistance from cheap tricks everyone reveres.” He spits

“Magic?”

Rollo stayed silent at your question.

You decide to let go of the subject with his sudden silence. Instead you walked closer to the window to admire the small details. It was such detailed you can’t even imagine how long it would take to finish such a large piece.

Too lost in thought, you started to reach your hand out to the window but you’re once again surprised when you felt a strong grip around your wrist.

You were about to apologize but instead freeze up when you felt him step closer behind you. You tried to step forward to get some distance since you’re starting to get flustered at our position but realized that you don’t have much space to move in since you’re very close to the window.

“I’m sorry but those were just cleaned by the careful hands of our cleaners hands off please.” He whispered in your ear.

You shuddered at his closeness and the sensation of him speaking carefully so close to your ear. “I-I understand.” You stuttered while unconsciously leaning into his ‘embrace’.

He seems to have lost himself also since he buried his nose in your hair while his other hand rubbed your free arm.

You two stayed like that for who knows how long just basking in each other’s contact. “Why not transfer here, I can tell how ‘generous’ the headmaster is in your current school.”

“I can’t” you managed to mumble out after almost melting at the close soud of his voice yet again.

“You’re surrounding yourself with magic that is as deadly as fire.”

You leaned closer “Fire can be useful too.” You whispered

You felt his sigh in your ear and your knees almost gave up but he held you up when he sensed you were about to fall.

“Consider it.” He kissed behind your ear “Be mine or you will burn.

He carefully let you go after making sure you won’t collapse to your knees before walking put and leaving you under colorful light.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #rollo flamme x reader #rollo flamm #twst rollo #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #rollo flamme

[renoed]

sweet tooth | halsin x reader

❥ — PAIRING halsin x afab! reader

❥ — SUMMARY Halsin had been tiptoeing around your advances since you had met; he had made his eagerness clear to you but refused to follow through with it, always with something else on his mind. The more he opens up to you, though, the weaker his resolve is to stay entirely focused on other, supposedly more important matters.

# NSFW, MDNI: smut below the cut, outdoor sex, food play (specifically honey), oral sex, spit, praise, fingering, finger sucking

"If I manage to break the curse… perhaps then I can show you just how grateful I am."

Halsin had been tiptoeing around your advances since you had met; he had made his eagerness clear to you but refused to follow through with it, always with something else on his mind. The more he opens up to you, though, the weaker his resolve is to stay entirely focused on other, supposedly more important matters. It isn't until tonight that you notice it.

When you set up camp, you notice that he's put his tent quite a distance away from anyone else. You often found him in a location that was further from everyone (he liked his solitude, you assumed), but the space between your tent and his would make it seem as though you were strangers. From your place next to the campfire, you could hardly see more than an outline of the druid.

It's when he doesn't join you for food that you begin to worry - had he decided he didn't want to travel with you anymore? Was he going to leave without warning?

"Gale," you grab the brunet's attention after you finish eating, "thank you again for cooking. I was wondering: do we still have that honey? I remember Halsin saying he has a sweet tooth—I thought it might be appreciated."

Gale's lips quirk up at your question, a suggestive eyebrow raising as he answers your question, "I believe we do, you should be able to find it—unopened—in that trunk besides the other camp supplies. I hope you make better use of it than I have."

You try your best to ignore the implication of his words, but suddenly the camp fire feels a lot warmer and the cool breeze is soothing against your cheeks. As you walk off, mumbling a thanks, you hear a light laugh from the wizard.

With a jar of honey and a small satchel of berries (you had remembered picking them up a few hours prior, excitedly rummaging for them in your bag) in your hands, you stood a few feet away from Halsin's tent, trying to find the courage to start a conversation. Usually it didn't feel difficult; if anything, you found him to be one of the easiest to talk to. But with the thought of him no longer wanting to travel together—no longer enjoying your company—it was as though you had become enwebbed, unable to move closer.

It felt like you were there for tens of minutes before Halsin appeared from his tent, turning to look at you, a soft 'oh' leaving his lips.

If you weren't already stuck in place, you had become so when his eyes met yours.

"I didn't realise you were here, apologies," his voice is gentle and he steps towards you in the dark, "did you need something?"

You look down at the jar in your hands and will yourself to speak, "You didn't eat with us, so I wanted to make sure everything was alright, I suppose."

A beat.

"—And I remembered you telling me you liked sweet things. I wanted to give you this."

Halsin lets his eyes drift down to your hands, which were now outstretched, before meeting your gaze again. His lips curl up into a smile and you swear that you can see the stars reflected in his eyes. It hits you that, if he really is thinking about leaving, you might not get another opportunity to talk to him like this again.

"I don't know what I've done for a gift, but thank you. Really."

He takes a step closer, taking the items in his hands, as he continues, "I'm sorry for not joining you, my mind has been rather… preoccupied, and I thought it best to spend some time alone. I've also been enjoying the company of the stars: aren't they beautiful tonight?"

You shift your eyes to look at the night sky. A crescent moon hangs amongst a cluster of stars, stretching out across the darkness. He's right, they are beautiful.

"You said you've been preoccupied? If you need my help, you know I'm just an ask away," the sincerity of your words causes a small chuckle to leave his lips, gaze falling from the sky to his feet.

"Believe me, I would love for you to help, but that would be an unfair request."

The statement is slightly confusing; he seemed to have no issues asking for help with considerably difficult tasks prior. You could hardly fathom the sheer size of a task was if Halsin felt he couldn't ask for your help.

Betrayed by your expression, he lets out another laugh, louder this time, "you misunderstand, it's simply a matter of personal frustration. Unfortunately, I've managed to get rather pent up."

It isn't until you hear those words—'pent up'—that you realise the meaning behind them. You recalled him making an off-hand comment at the Tiefling party about how he was ‘sure that we could get out any pent up feelings'. He had never acted on his words, of course, but he had put them out there nonetheless.

"It wouldn't be unfair at all," your voice comes out quieter than you intend it to, "actually, I'd be more than happy to help and I think you know that, Halsin."

His eyes meet yours again, expression still soft and gentle under the soft glow of the moon. He takes a step towards you, so that your chests are almost touching. You don't break eye contact, newfound confidence surging through you.

He brings his face close to yours, peering down at you, “you’re sure it would be alright?”

You nod in response, his eyes momentarily widening before he uses his free hand to lightly hold your upper arm. His voice is a soft whisper when it leaves his mouth, “Gods, I can’t tell you how long I have wanted this.”

Halsin closes the space between you, drawing you into a kiss. His hand shifts from your arm to your cheek, the pads of his fingers are rough on your skin but they’re the last things you’re thinking about with his lips pressed to yours.

The kiss is quick, almost polite in its softness, and as Halsin pulls away, you feel your brows furrow.

“Your expression betrays you,” there's a humour to his tone, “would you like me to try again?”

You answer his question with another kiss, hands wrapping around the back of his neck and fingers tangling into his hair. It's deeper this time, more passionate, needier, and when Halsin's tongue brushes against your bottom lip, you're quick to comply with the silent request.

When you lightly tug on his hair, parting from the kiss, a low groan tumbles from his lips and rushes straight through you.

"You're good at this," his thumb brushes your cheek as he kisses you again. His kisses move down your face and neck, occasionally licking and biting at the skin until a shaky exhale leaves your lips. Your legs feel weak and every inch of you is warm, rushed heartbeat echoing in your ears; if you weren't so distracted you'd assume he could hear it.

When he pauses his movements, you take the opportunity to tug on his hair again, letting one of your hands fall from his neck to his chest, slowly getting lower, "just good?"

He hums when your finger tugs on his waistband, "amazing. Perfect, even."

You slide your hand underneath his shirt and he takes a sharp inhale at the contact. It had been so long since the last time someone had touched him like this; it had been longer since he had wanted to be touched—and to touch—so desperately. As you try to lift his top, though, he pulls back and gestures to the jar in his hand. You expect him to just put it down and continue, however you're left slightly disappointed when he breaks away from you entirely and opens the jar. His fingers dip into the jar, pulling out a string of glistening, viscous honey and bringing it to his lips.

You're left to watch helplessly, his tongue dragging from the base of his fingers to the tip and humming at the sweetness of the substance. It was impossible not to let your mind cloud over with images of those same fingers covered with your slick, dipping them into his mouth.

"Come here," it's a command, but it's gentle, easing you into doing as he says, "try some."

Halsin dips his fingers into the honey again, this time lifting his fingers to your lips. You take them in your mouth and run your tongue across them, enjoying the taste of the honey but entirely more focused on keeping your gaze locked with Halsin's. He lightly pumps them in and out of your mouth, cursing under his breath when you move your head to match the gentle pace.

You'd become used to Halsin being so composed and articulate—seeing him reduced to swears and fervent touches made you crave more of him, releasing his fingers and pulling him into another feverish kiss. You both moan into it, hands wanderings across each other's bodies: groping and grasping, trying to remove articles of clothing without pulling your lips away.

His hands land at the top of your thighs, tugging on them in a request for you to jump and hook your legs around his waist. He holds you in one arm with ease, using the other to tug at your shirt.

You kiss his neck, his grip tightening around you in response as his eyes flutter closed to enjoy the sensation.

"Please," he breathes out your name like a prayer, "I want you."

Leaning back, you stare into his eyes, kissing him again, "Gods, I thought you'd never ask."

Halsin puts you down and you rush to undress each other, sharing kisses whenever your hands aren't in the way. His body is incredible, and you're caught unashamedly staring from your sitting position as he tugs off the last of his clothes.

"You're really beautiful, you know?"

He smiles at your words, letting his eyes wander across you in a similar manner, "beautiful isn't enough to describe you."

When he gets onto his knees you can't help yourself from thinking of the sight as holy.

You watch as he dips his fingers into the honey jar and lifts them above your legs, letting it drip onto your skin like a gold glaze. It's cold and sticky but when he drags his tongue against you, licking the honey with it, you've all but forgotten the feeling.

His other hand, free of honey, lightly trails between your legs before stopping and running a finger between your folds.

"Fuck, you're soaked" if you weren't so eager, you'd be embarrassed. He had hardly touched you, yet your body was already begging for more.

He presses feather-light kisses up your inner thigh, taking his time as he follows and licks at the trail of honey, occasionally stopping to suck and nip at your skin, smiling when a soft gasp is drawn from your lips, "good girl."

Before he stops between your legs, he shifts to your hips and continues his upwards trails. You whine at the feelings of his lips around your nipple, lightly grazing his teeth against it while he thumbs and rolls the other in his fingers. You aren't sure if it's what he's doing or just him, but the touch is enough to make you moan, lightly bucking your hips into him.

"Impatient are we?" he chuckles, kissing back down to your thighs

When he's tasted the last of the honey, spread across the top of your thigh, he moves back slightly and watches as you squirm in anticipation.

"Did you want something else from me?" his voice is low and sickly sweet as he grabs your right thigh, rubbing soft circles in the skin with his thumb.

You nod in response, gasping out a slightly frustrated 'yes please', which is all he needs to start kissing again, trailing up the skin until his lips land on your cunt. He places one more kiss before using his tongue, dragging it upwards until it prods at your clit. You feel yourself throb under him, lightly bucking your hips forward as he drags his tongue in slow, circular motions.

He presses a finger inside you, thrusting a couple of times before curling it up. You moan under his touch, moving a hand to thread into his hair, desperately helping to create friction by grinding against his mouth.

His grip on your thighs tightens and he hikes one of your legs over his shoulder before slipping a second finger inside of you. It's overwhelming in the best possible way and when he leans back, only to spit on your cunt, you feel yourself clench around his fingers.

After a few thrusts, he lowers his mouth back onto your clit, flattening his tongue against it to lick and rub. His unused hand has an iron grip on your thigh, moving it so he could get his fingers deeper inside, curling them into you until a knot forms in your stomach. You instinctively grind your hips against his face, moaning as he begins to speed up. His actions are filled with need and when he feels your thighs twitch he takes that as a sign to continue, building you up to your edge.

You can only whine in pleasure when he moves his hand from your thigh to your abdomen, pressing down on it lightly. Your body twitches again and when he presses his tongue down onto your clit slightly harder it causes your thighs to instinctively close around him, bringing you to orgasm.

Halsin pulls away as you both catch your breath. From his position above you, he can’t help but think you’re the prettiest person he’s ever seen. He takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean, sitting back onto his knees and taking his cock into his other hand. He strokes himself as you shift to sit facing him, legs weak and breathing still heavy.

Leaning forward, you replace his hand with yours before bringing him into another kiss. He grunts when you pull away, circling your thumb around his tip and pressing kisses onto his chest and neck.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks, voice desperate and needy.

“Gods, Halsin, yes. I want this— I want you.”

You can barely finish your sentence before your back is on the grass again, caged in the druid’s arms. He pushes a knee between your legs and lowers himself to kiss you again. You’re ready to start begging him to fuck you when he moves to position himself at your entrance.

He doesn’t move, just lifts his head to meet your gaze with a teasing grin on his face, “I can’t give you what you want unless you tell me.”

You don’t care about your pride, cursing before sputtering out, “I want you to fuck me, please, Halsin.”

The reaction is almost instant. Halsin sinks into you slowly, gently, keeping eye contact until you’ve taken every inch of him. He thrusts into you, drawing out a whiney moan, and leans down to kiss and nip at your lips.

Your name tumbles from his lips, unrelenting as he grabs your waist to push himself deeper into you, “Fuck— you feel so good”

His full attention is on you, moving a hand so he can thumb at your clit while pounding into you. A broken gasp escapes you, tightening around his cock at the touch, which gains a low groan in response. 

You're a writhing mess beneath him, hands searching for anything they can grab onto. Halsin slows his pace so he can adjust your leg onto his shoulder, leaning forwards and sweeping up both your hands into one of his. The position lets him hit even deeper, the feeling is overwhelming, unable to stop the endless string of moans leaving your lips.

His pace is relentless, only slowing to carefully adjust the position so he could keep thumbing at your clit easily. You lift your head and he meets you halfway in a kiss. He leans down to your ear, breathing heavy, and groans out your name, "I want you to cum for me."

Just the words themselves have you clenching around his cock again, but when he presses harder into your clit, already overly sensitive and stimulated, it pushes you over the edge again, moaning out his name. The sensation is enough to have Halsin on the brink of his own orgasm, pace stuttering slightly.

By Gods does he never want this moment to end, he could mistake it for Heaven.

Your name is all he can manage to say as he continues, pulling out of you almost fully before rocking his hips back into you. The hand on your clit leaves to grasp at your hips, pulling you down onto him. He can feel you throb around him, "I'm gonna—"

He pulls out at the last second, decorating your thighs and stomach with strings of his cum. The sight is almost enough for him to bring his tongue back down to your cunt, indulging in you more, but you're both exhausted and it takes everything in him not to collapse onto you.

"Let me clean you up," he manages between heavy breaths, moving away to grab a clean rag and wipe you down, "you're absolutely wonderful, I hope you know that."

Halsin leans down to kiss you; it's tender and gentle, you can't help but smile into it.

"I could say the same for you," comes your reply, "come lie with me?"

It takes no convincing before Halsin is lying at your side, arms wrapped around you. Any thoughts you had had about him leaving the camp are long forgotten and you can feel yourself begin drifting off in the comfort of his warm grasp.

reblogs are hugely appreciated ♡ [masterlist]

#halsin x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate x reader #bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 halsin #baldurs gate halsin #halsin #reader insert #smut #bg3 smut #x reader #renoed

[apuckishwit]

Making Room

Steve never gets into DnD.

Not even after Eddie convinces him to join a one-shot over one Christmas when the kids are all back from college and jobs and far-flung adventures. He's not a jerk about it or anything. He sits and makes a character with his boyfriend and he does his best with the role-playing and he only asks Dustin for help with the dice seven or eight times (and everyone had promised to give him an even dozen before they gave him shit about it, so it was fine). It's fine. He's not mad that he spent the time doing it with Eddie and the kids (some of them taller than him now, in spitting distance of college degrees and first apartments and jobs and spouses and lives, but they'll always be kids to him).

But afterwards he kisses Eddie and says it really and truly isn't for him, sorry babe.

And that's okay.

When he and Robin are scavenging through yet another thrift store for furniture and dishes and lamps for the apartment she and Nancy are getting in Indianapolis (he's so sad that her room in the little house he shares with Eddie is going back to being a guest room, but he's so damn happy that she and Nance have stopped dancing around each other...and they're only moving about half an hour away, he'll still see her all the time), and he spots an impractically long desk/table, onviously custom-built, with an absurd number of drawers and compartments built into it, he buys it immediately. He wrestles it into Eddie's van that they borrowed for the day, and smiles apologetically when Robin has to hold like three boxes on her lap. He gets it into their dining room while Eddie's at work, graciously gifting their own table to Robin and Nancy, and it's worth all the hassle (and the fact that one end of the table pokes about a foot into the living room space) when Eddie comes home to something big enough for even his most complicated campaign maps and with plenty of storage for all his dice and miniatures and source books.

And sturdy enough for Eddie's most...enthusiastic...thanks, they find out that night.

Steve never gets into DnD.

But every time Hellfire (whatever incarnation of Hellfire it is, be it the Hawkins crew or some of the guys from the little record shop Eddie works at in town, or some combination) meets up for a game, they get used to Eddie yelling, "Stevie! Evens or odds?" everytime a situation calls for a luck die. They learn that complimenting the snacks Steve sets out will sometimes get them advantage on a roll. They watch Eddie snag Steve's wrist as he passes in or out of the dining room and get him to roll a D20 for various and random reasons. Steve always obliges, before drifting back to the couch with a beer or a slice of pizza and whatever basketball or baseball game is on.

Steve never gets into DnD.

But sometimes Eddie spreads newspapers over the Campaign Table (TM) and sets pots of paint and rows of miniatures out, and he and Steve sit together for a few hours, Steve slapping on the basecoats with a single pot of white, gray, or black and Eddie going to town on the details while they chat about their day, playing footsie under the table or stealing kisses while they wait for something to dry.

"Babe! I need a name for the friendly barkeep who knows more than he seems!"

"Carl."

"He's a half-orc!"

"Those are the big green guys, right?"

"Yeah!"

"Hmmm. Big Carl."

"Perfect!"

Steve never gets into DnD. But he loves Eddie, and he loves how into DnD Eddie is. So he makes room in his life for this thing that Eddie loves.

***

Eddie never gets into sports.

Like, objectively he understands that some people enjoy running around getting all sweaty, trying to keep some kind of ball away from other people and make it go into some kind of receptacle. And he certainly appreciates the view of some of those people in tight little shorts.

Particularly Steve.

Like honestly? If it wouldn't get him labeled a total creep (and they weren't so careful about giving anyone a reason to question the assumption that they're just two young friends living together to save money until they find respectable women to marry)...he'd park his van out by the little middle school where Steve teaches gym and coaches basketball and baseball every day during his lunch break, just to watch his boyfriend run the mile with his students in those shorts that hug the muscles of his thighs just right.

But he doesn't like sports apart from the strictly prurient interest he has in watching Steve wear sports-appropriate clothes.

He tries. He wants to know just what it is that keeps Steve glued to the TV when his favorite teams are playing, wants to understand why Steve yells and groans and jumps up with wild cheers, spilling popcorn all over the living room floor. He just...doesn't get it. Steve tries to explain March Madness to him one year and it makes no more sense than when Wayne tried to when Eddie was a kid. Eventually he just shrugs, kisses Steve's nose, and goes back to petting through his boyfriend's hair with a, sorry, baby, it's not for me.

And that's okay.

He gets up early the week Steve is overseeing baseball tryouts, to make sure his boyfriend has a travel mug of coffee fixed just the way he likes it, and a good breakfast waiting for him when he gets out of the shower. Steve is unquestionably the cook in their relationship, but Young Eddie ate a lot of breakfast for dinner over the years and Adult Eddie makes damn good pancakes, omelettes, and French toast.

Eddie never gets into sports.

But he gets Lucas to break down exactly what kind of notes and stats Steve will be keeping track of and draws up a template "character sheet" for baseball players, spending an hour at the local library laboriously making copies with their cantankerous mimeograph machine.

He sure as shit never gets up at the crack of dawn to go running around the neighborhood the way Steve does...but on days when it starts raining or snowing halfway through Steve's run, he'll drag himself out of bed and throw some towels in the dryer, so they're nice and warm when Steve comes back inside.

Eddie never gets into sports.

But he takes every overtime shift he can for a month, so he can take Steve to Chicago for his twenty-fifth birthday to see the Bulls play. The seats aren't great or anything, and it's noisy as fuck, crowded as fuck, and he has no idea why his boyfriend is losing his mind every time that Jordan guy so much as touches the ball...but Steve's eyes are sparkling, the color is high in his cheeks, and when they get back to their hotel that night, they've barely closed the door before Steve is shoving him against it, devouring his mouth.

"Hey Eds, Ohio State or Georgia Tech?"

"For what?"

"I'm doing my brackets for the pool I've got with Hopper and Lucas!"

"Um, whoever's in red!"

"Ohio State it is, thanks babe!"

Eddie never gets into sports. But that's okay. He loves Steve, and he loves how happy Steve is when he's playing, or coaching, or running (God help him, he fell in love with someone who gets up at six am to run. Without anything chasing him.) So he makes room in his life for this thing that Steve loves.

Because certainly, love grows in shared passions and matching interests. But it also flourishes in the carefully tended space you make just for the things that make your person happy...even if it's just not for you.

#steddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my wriitng #I dunno i was just feeling soft

[catcze]

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

[ ###… ] modern AU, rockstar Wriothesley, gn reader, est. relationship, a lil bit of hurt/comfort, fluff, long-distance pining, lovesick & homesick wrio, kinda cheesy which is kind of on brand for me lol

By the time Wriothesley manages to get back to his hotel room and check his phone, he's pretty sure you're asleep. He hopes you are, knowing how late it must be on your end.

It's no surprise that there are several messages waiting for him— each day you've been apart, you give him something sweet to read in the evenings after a busy day of promos or after a hectic show. Something to make the distance between you seem a little less vast, to let him know that you're still thinking about him.

Even on days where he's dead tired, he'll always read them. Always let you know that he thinks of you, too.

What does surprise him is the newest text, sent at just over twenty minutes ago. Wriothesley frowns as he wonders why you're still up, and his heart only drops more when he scrolls through the messages and reads the latest thing you sent.

I miss you. I really, really miss you.

Before he can even hope that he's not bothering you, his finger near slams on the call button. You answer on the second ring, voice lacking the raspiness of a roused sleep. It makes him sigh with relief.

"Wrio?" you ask, surprised. "Are you okay? What's up?"

"I should be asking you that." Wriothesley sits heavily on the plush bed, flopping back against the pillows with all the grace of a man who just gave a two-hour performance.

As luxurious as the king-sized bed is, with its soft sheets and myriad of immaculately fluffed pillows, he can't help but yearn for the warm familiarity of your own bed and your well-loved blankets.

"Why're you still up, honey? Don't you have breakfast with your friends tomorrow?"

"...can't sleep," you murmur after a beat, voice so quiet. He hears sheets rustling, then silence again. You hesitate. "I... it might sound selfish but I miss you being here with me. It sucks that the bed feels so empty without you."

And oh, if he could, Wriothesley would crawl through the phone right this very second and wrap you in his arms— would crush you to his chest and hold you tight as he listens to your breath taper off into sleep. Would keep you against him, wrapped up in his love and adoration, until you practically have to beat him off of you with a stick.

But he can't and it's killing him.

"It's not selfish. I miss you too," he says, voice longing. "I want to go home to you so bad, sweetheart, you have no idea. Wish I could've packed you up in my bag and smuggled you here with me." He has to fight sleepy giggles at the thought.

"Speaking of— you better be prepared for a crapload of gifts when I get back. I've got a whole suitcase of stuff I thought you'd like."

You gasp, and even sounding a little crackly from the speakers, his heart does a flip. "A whole suitcase?! I wouldn't even know where to put all that!"

"We'll find space. 'm pretty sure there's some stuff we can jigsaw around." Wriothesley tries to keep the tiredness from his voice, tries to fight back the yawn. It's been so long since you've called, what with timezones and schedules getting in the way, and he wants to talk to you longer— ask how your day's been, what your plans are for the rest of the week, if there were any places you want to visit when he gets home. This call is much too short for all the things he wants to say, for all the hours he wants to spend listening to you talk.

But try as he might, you can tell he's close to knocking out without even having to lay an eye on him.

"You should sleep," you tell him, voice soothing him like a balm. "You're probably tired after your show. I saw a few videos, you know— you were so cool. I'm proud of you, Wrio."

He hums, basking in your praise. His eyelids are already growing heavy, the soft siren's song of sleep growing harder to resist. If he closes his eyes, maybe he can imagine that you're just down the hall, busy with something. You'll come in any second now, crawl into bed and slip into his arms, and everything would be right with the world.

"Thank you for... for calling. For checking up on me just because of a text." You giggle at that last bit, and (as it always seems to do) his heart flips. "I love you lots."

"Mm, no need to thank me. Just gimme lots of kisses when I get home." His tongue is growing heavier, sleep more inviting. But he manages to get one last thing out— "I love you lots, too."

Right before Wriothesley lets himself drop, you press a loud, exaggerated kiss to the receiver of your phone. He smiles.

That's how you both fall asleep: with both phones still on the line, even breaths and quiet snores comforting the other into a restful slumber.

#「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #astronetwrk #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #cw gn reader #genshin impact #wriothesley #U dream abt each other btw tee hee ♡ #so tired;;; no speakings rn just vibes then eep #no editing bc got inspired by a song lol

[pshcomforts]

➳ falling in love | psh. & pjs.

collegestudent!sunghoon x fem!reader, collegestudent!jay x fem!reader (feat. wonyoung from ive)

“i feel falling in love with all my heart”

synopsis: you and sunghoon have become distant ever since he started going out with wonyoung, allowing you to be closer with jay.

warning/content: written in third pov. angst. fluff. slight angst ending(?) not proofread. cursing. hoon’s not really in here a lot (sorry). jay ending <3 (this one kinda hurt)

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 6.7k

a/n: part one — ‘let you break my heart again’. fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s boyfriend), min-su (heeseung’s girlfriend), and ji-woo (jake’s girlfriend). the long awaited part two!!

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: falling in love by cigarettes after sex

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:11 ───────|──────────── -2:53

months had passed since sunghoon and wonyoung were officially dating.

and from then on, him and y/n haven’t been the same. she’s kept a clear distance in everything, ensuring that girl code was still relevant for his girlfriend.

wonyoung was thankful for it. she didn’t need to worry about the usual girl friend waiting for the perfect moment to seize the guy.

in fact, y/n steered clear of the couple so much that sunghoon and her didn’t even talk on the daily basis anymore.

no more constant texts. no more late night calls. no more stupid inside jokes.

they’d all now been reserved for wonyoung..

and jay.

ever since the girl accidentally bursted into tears in front of him, they’ve gotten slightly closer.

and being the gentleman his parents raised him to be, jay always ensured she was okay before her class started by walking her there every day — even if his classes were across campus.

he was a change from sunghoon.

usually, hoon would tease and make fun of y/n, but with jay, he was sweet and gentle — careful, almost, with how he treated her.

it was definitely something she’d have to adjust to but she didn’t mind. the 5’11 boy was comforting to her in every way.

but even then, she did kind of miss sunghoon. he just always got her, and she always got him. it seemed like he didn’t mind the change either though, as long as he was with wonyoung, he was okay.

because he wasn’t y/n’s. he was never to begin with.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“hey,” ji-woo snapped her fingers at y/n, who instantly shot her head up.

“hm?”

“girl are you okay? you keep spacing out..,”

y/n groaned out a sigh before planting her head on min-su’s shoulder. “i’m fine.., i’m just really tired from the last minute study session i had with jay yesterday.”

“you guys studied again?” she heard min-su muffle on the side.

“yeah, he asked so i just went along with it.”

the atmosphere became quiet after her words processed to everyone. “what..?” she asked with shifting eyes.

“doesn’t jay usually hate study sessions?” dae mumbled.

“yeah but he really needed help on his assignment, and i just happened to be there.”

the boy shifted his gaze to ji-woo once more, allowing y/n to catch on and glance at min-su with a — ‘the hell are they doing?’ — kind of look, just for her friend to snort out a laugh.

“don’t look at me, i’ve been with hee since last night.” min-su defended.

y/n nodded before looking at the other two. “why do you guys keep looking at each other like that?”

“um well.., don’t you think it’s a little suspicious that jay wanted to do a study session when he hates them?” ji-woo murmured.

“no.. we’re friends with him, he’d ask any one of us for help.”

dae grumbled a sigh of slight irritation before replying, “yeah but he asked you, y/n, when it’s been almost two years since you took that class.”

“mhm.. and didn’t you say you were kind of getting over sunghoon?” jake’s girl interrogated once more.

y/n sighed, shaking her head at her friends. min-su, who quickly caught on, spoke — “alright alright that’s enough, let her get some rest before her class starts.”

the group went on to talk about something else as y/n stayed stuck on ji-woo’s words. it was true that she was getting slightly over her crush, but that was only because she basically never saw him as much as she used to.

he was still in the friend group, but he just never felt present in her eyes anymore. the only thing they’d exchange would be a soft laugh when somebody joked, but other than that, the relationship was gone.

maybe she just missed how it was, or maybe she just missed him and his homely presence.

“y/n?? did you even hear us?” dae snapped with furrowed brows.

she lost her train of thought as she looked over to jungwon’s boyfriend, who continued to wear a worried look. “sorry.. i got distracted, what?” she murmured.

“we’re gonna go out with our men this weekend, just to a farmers market and walk around. wanna come with us? we miss you..,” ji-woo chimed in with hopeful eyes.

“i’m right here…,” the girl attempted to joke, causing light giggles to go around in the circle.

“girl we haven’t properly seen you in weeks. you’re either studying at home or you’re with jay somewhere.” min-su added in.

y/n’s stomach randomly dropped at the statement of being with jay elsewhere. her heartbeats were getting slightly heavier and her fingers were fidgeting with each other. she knew this feeling. she knew it a little too well.

“i’m not always with jay..,” she tried to deflect.

dae giggled at her state. “i swear whenever i see you on campus, jay’s beside you.”

“he’s just a comforting friend..,”

“yeah so bring him when we go out this weekend!” jake’s girlfriend beamed with a plastered grin.

it was obvious that the group was trying to get her mind off of hoon now that he was with wonyoung, but y/n had to admit, it was strange. she used to always have her ears be filled with mumbling words from them of how her and her favorite boy would get together soon.

but it was gone. that moment was gone now, and she didn’t know whether to be glad or ashamed that she was moving on a little too quick.

so instead, the girl just whipped her head to her friend. “what, so him and i could 7th wheel you three?” she shot, head already shaking in disagreement.

“well if you bring him then it won’t be 7th wheeling!” dae attempted to reason.

“is this really your guys’ way of convincing me to go when i won’t have fun?”

“what won’t be fun?” niki’s voice suddenly boomed from min-su’s behind.

y/n groaned as she found a few members taking the empty seats around the table, jay voluntarily sitting next to her. “they’re trying to make me 7th wheel on saturday, i should say no right?”

the maknae snorted out a laugh before placing his elbow onto her shoulder. “they’re really gonna torture you like that?” he mumbled in a snicker.

“right! that’s what i’m saying!”

jay chuckled, dusting niki’s arm off of his friend’s shoulder as he uttered, “why would they do that?”

“we’re trying to make her go out more!” ji-woo panned with an eye roll, causing jake to holler out laughs as he responded, “love, is it really the best way to have her go out with couples after spending weeks to get comfortable around sunghoon and wonyoung?”

“he’s got a point, babe.” jungwon commented, looking directly in dae’s eyes with sparkles. “she’ll still have fun though!” the boy tried to defend, avoiding his favorite boy’s features.

“heeseung’s not even here to make it worst but all this couple stuff with just those two is making me sick. how will i survive it being three couples?” y/n gagged, body shaking in horror.

the handsome male beside her chuckled as he gave a soft ruffle to her hair. “good luck with that, text me if you get bored.” jay suggested.

there it was again. the nervous bubbles fuming in her stomach, the eye pupils dilating after meeting eye contact. it was happening.

“don’t be surprised if your phone gets filled with my text messages.” y/n joked back, hoping that he didn’t see through her.

the male probably would’ve if sunghoon hadn’t just entered in with wonyoung linked beside one of his arms.

“who’s getting spammed?” hoon tried to beam in while taking a seat across from his old friend.

he instantly locked eyes with her but she tore her gaze away, looking at ji-woo instead. “they’re trying to make me go somewhere with them,” y/n said, trying to ignore the obvious awkward tension.

ji-woo wore a half smile as she squeezed her boyfriend’s hands out of instinct. “she should go right?” she asked to sunghoon.

the male only nodded, and y/n wasn’t sure if anyone else caught on but she found him holding back a joke that he’d usually make if they were still close.

ouch.

her head lowered once she felt her heart grip on a little tighter in her chest, each vein tingling in despair.

“you should go, y/n, you never want to go out anywhere,” she heard him say. those words were the first thing he’s ever said to her in months. and again, it was strange.

he’d usually say something along the lines of — “don’t go out, let’s just stay at my place and we’ll study” — but he wasn’t there for her anymore.

immediately, the poor girl was then reminded of the times when it’d just be the two hanging with each other. no one else, but them.

they were introverts, but they were extroverts when they were together. when one wasn’t feeling it, the other would be there just to be a comforting presence.

tears filled her eyes as she bit her lips from holding them in. it felt stupid to tear up about something like this, but she couldn’t help it. they didn’t talk anymore, and sunghoon seemed completely fine with it.

y/n was too, but she just needed time to adjust. after all, he did nothing wrong.

as she remained quiet, she felt jay nudge her with his elbow, causing her to look at him with confused eyes.

the male shifted his attention to her and watched how her beautifully glistened eyes emphasized her thoughts. he only raised his brows though, gesturing that she should respond back.

“i don’t know yet. i’m still debating,” she tried to laugh off.

once again, she avoided eye contact with sunghoon, turning to look at dae and min-su instead.

“hoonie’s right, you should go! it’ll be fun especially after working so hard, y/n!” wonyoung chimed in with a sweet smile.

‘hoonie..,’ y/n thought. ‘his nickname..,’

she looked up to the pretty girl and grinned back. in her peripheral vision, she could see the scattered exchanges from min-su to ji-woo, and then ji-woo to dae, and then dae to jungwon, and so forth.

did it hurt that she heard somebody else call him hoonie? sure, but she wasn’t gonna rampage about it.

he wasn’t hers to be acting like that in the first place.

“you’re right, wonyoung. i should go huh??” the girl immediately beamed back, causing wonyoung to agree in a charming manner. she was so gorgeous.

as the conversation continued out and others began talking as well, y/n constantly found herself looking at how hoon stayed attentive on his girlfriend. he was still that same caring boy, just not to her anymore.

“stop staring, they might catch on.” a small whisper lingered in her ear, evidently being jay’s who only chuckled afterward.

she sent a light smack to his arm. “shut up, i’m not staring that much.”

“you’re staring enough,” he joked back, letting his fingers softly nudge her cheeks.

the girl rolled her eyes as jay continued to brightly smile alongside her. “there’s too many couples here,” she mumbled to him, letting her attention stay on each couple coiled up against each other.

“i agree, wanna get out of here?”

she whipped her head in an instant. “yes please!” she harshly whispered back, causing a satisfied grin to be worn on him. “i just have to go to the restroom first.”

jay dramatically sighed — “it’s always the restroom first.”

“shut up!” y/n yelled back, giving a ruthless hit to the arm.

she swore though, that when she got up from her seat, she saw hoon flicker his gaze to her and jay. it was most likely what she wasn’t thinking, but she still caught onto it.

“actually, we’re gonna go too, wonyoung has class soon and i wanna make sure she gets there on time.” sunghoon suddenly spurted out, allowing the two to stand up as well.

the group nodded as the couple took their departure, while niki and sunoo left to their classes, leaving y/n and her three closest friends to run off to the restroom together.

as they left, jay couldn’t help but watch her disappear in his sight. something about her just eased him.

his gaze softened and he found himself smiling without even realizing it. was it happening to him too?

his heart was beating and his breathing was getting heavy at the mere thought of his friend, y/n.

“you really like her, don’t you?” jungwon immediately chimed in with a wiggle in his brows.

jay jokingly scoffed as he laughed. “i don’t like her,” he murmured. “she’s just a friend.”

“yeah a really GOOD friend,” jake added in as well, patting his friend’s back while chuckling.

as jay was about to give another remark, heeseung intruded in — “who are we talking about?”

“y/n and jay.”

“oh that he likes her?” he teased, catching on right away.

“i don’t like her,” the boy grumbled. “we’ve just gotten closer, that’s it.”

“jay.. just admit it,” one of the boys uttered.

“she’s a friend i’ve been comforting since she’s still trying to get over sunghoon, our other friend.”

jake guffawed out a laugh as he murmured, “dude, you’re so bad at lying. she’s starting to get over him because of you anyway.”

jay’s head shot up. “really?” his heart was rapidly racing now, was he really the reason why she was beginning to move on and no longer hurt?

his lips curled into a small grin as he dumbly smiled to himself.

“you definitely like her,” the oldest of them all teased.

jay shot a glare towards him before sighing in defeat. “i don’t like her but .. she’s nice to be around.” a pink tint began to hit his cheeks as he thought about y/n again.

the three boys snickered to themselves as they patted him on the back. “congrats bro, you’re in love,” jake mumbled.

while the four continued to converse, dae and the girls came back soon afterward.

“you still wanna leave?” jay asked, eyes coming into a sparkling haze.

y/n gulped. he was so handsome, and she could just stare at him all day. “yeah,” she cleared her throat. “let’s go, i have class soon.”

as she gathered her things, she found jungwon raising his brows towards jay, only to earn a downturned smile from him.

“let’s leave these people alone,” he grumbled before pulling her away.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

as the two walked around campus, wasting time, their hands constantly bumped against each others. the lingering jay had just to tangle his fingers with hers was crowding his thoughts. he just wanted to know what it was like, to experience it with her at least once.

“i like her..,” he quietly confirmed to himself. “i do…,”

“what was that, jay?” y/n looked up at him with a half smile.

“ah.. nothing. so you’re going with them on the weekend?”

“i kind of don’t want to.., should i just stay home?” she mumbled.

jay chuckled before wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “you should go, it’ll be fun!”

the change from jay and sunghoon was again, too easy to catch on, but y/n ignored it this time.

“wanna go with me??” she suddenly asked with pleading eyes.

the male’s heart stopped for a second. “you want me to go with you..?” he slowly repeated.

“mhm, go with me! so i won’t be alone.. please, jay!”

he softly chuckled as the two stopped in their tracks. “why don’t you ask niki?”

“jay.. come on, we’re closer, it’ll be more fun!”

his heart thumped, and he harshly gulped down every nerve in his body. “y/n..,”

“jay…,” she scowled back with a teasing smile. “come on!”

“you’re just gonna keep asking, aren’t you?”

“yeah so you should just say yes!”

the boy sighed to himself before finally giving in. “fine.. i’ll go.”

y/n jumped up and down in glee, hitting his arms as she yelled, “yay! i won’t be a 7th wheeler!”

jay watched her make little hops, grinning ear to ear as his pupils dilated from looking at her.

he was completely falling for her and he was okay with it. he knew she most likely still liked sunghoon though, but just for the time being, he was enjoying his personal moments with her.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the weekend came and y/n found herself dolling up for the day sooner than she thought.

“just a day with jay.. usual stuff,” she attempted to convince herself.

as she finally checked her phone, she found text notifications from the boy.

mr. jjongtsby 🐈‍⬛:

I’m almost there, y/n

Are you reading this? I know you don’t have notifications on

I’m pulling up

y/n <33:

oh shit sorry! i’m coming out now :)

the girl rushed out of the door, giving quick goodbyes to her family members before meeting with jay.

“sorry,” she huffed. “i didn’t see your notifications until now.”

he chuckled while backing the car out. “no worries. i thought you almost forgot about our day for a second there.”

her body tensed up at his words. “our day..?”

“yeah, our day with the others.” jay mumbled, hollering out a laugh to cancel out the nervous bubble in his stomach. “ready to go through couple stuff?”

butterflies erupted in her stomach this time as she tried to play it off. “yeah.. let’s go!”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

hours had passed since jay picked her up, and they had been completely surrounded by each others presence.

the couples were together of course, always walking side by side with arms linked together — leaving jay and y/n to walk along just as friends. her friends would occasionally try to add her into the conversations, but she knew she wasn’t fit for them, especially if they were couple-related things.

“oh isn’t this cute jakey??” she’d hear her friend sickly say, letting her become disgusted from behind.

“oh it is, love! you want it? i’ll get it for you,” jake would murmur back with a smiley face.

maybe she was just a hater, but she couldn’t stand it. then she’d hear her other friend, dae go — “wonie, let’s take a picture with this!”

and that’d only allow jungwon to squish his favorite boy’s cheeks while placing a soft kiss — “okay babe, get ready for the camera,” he’d cheekily respond.

and if that wasn’t enough, she’d already find min-su simply gathered in heeseung’s arms. the boy couldn’t stop clinging himself around her as he mumbled sweet nothings to her.

it was an appalling mess, and y/n was tired of it.

“you really hate seeing them be happy?” jay chimed, teeth fully on display to show his wide grin.

she softly nudged him as she shook her head. “i don’t hate it, but it’s just a little gross…,” the girl replied.

“you signed yourself up for this, you know?”

“jay..,” y/n scowled, sending him a faint glare.

he only smiled at that before backing off. “fine fine, but you know i’m right.”

she playfully rolled her eyes, pushing his shoulder back as she walked a little slower than her friends.

“alright come on grumpy pants, let’s catch up with them.” he mumbled, dragging her away with a slight grip to the wrist.

the two caught up with everyone else who stopped at a bracelet stand.

“baby, let’s get this one.” min-su uttered to her boyfriend who was already reaching for the same purple band as her. “i already knew what color,” he whispered against her, causing a flush color to form on her cheeks.

jake turned to ji-woo as well, letting his eyes sparkle to display his puppy look before mumbling, “what about this one, love? it’s our color.” his hands held a similar pattern to the other bracelet but in green, causing his girl to excitedly squeal — “it’s so us, jake!”

while the other two couples situated themselves, dae and jungwon were already exchanging each others similarly colored bracelets — which were navy blue of course.

“wonie, this color matches us right? i wanted purple but min-su and hee already got it..,” he softly pouted.

won only grinned, making dents in his cheeks for his dimples as he replied, “of course babe. anything matches you because you’re perfect.”

y/n heard her friend giggle like crazy, and all she could do was send a stank eye that wasn’t caught on by anyone else but jay, earning a quiet chuckle from him.

perhaps if the girl was in a relationship like her friends, she’d get it, but she wasn’t. she was the last single friend left.

so as she watched her friends create core memories with their partners from behind, she scanned through each colored bracelet as well — eyes searching for a color she may find fond.

however, the only color that she could see herself wearing was the black one. it was simple, but it had its unique features sticking out to her in the best way possible.

y/n picked it up, contemplating whether or not she should get it. “no one to match with.. but it’s pretty, so i guess.” she reasoned, going to the owner to pay afterward.

it was set in her mind that no one could possibly care to match with her, but jay was willing to. the girl didn’t catch onto the fact that he was secretly observing her.

he was just being discreet, watching to see which colored bracelet she’d choose so he didn’t get the wrong one.

as soon as she picked up the black one, his hands snatched the other free bracelet, causing him to catch a glimpse of the other owner who only beamed a confused look in why he had to seize it like that.

he apologetically smiled before approaching where his new found crush was at.

“cash or card?” the owner asked.

as y/n was about to speak, jay quickly intruded in. “card, i’ll pay.” he beamed with a dazzling smile towards her.

“what?? you’re gonna pay? you don’t have to-“

“too late, it’s yours now, wear it.” jay assured back, flashing another grin before handing her the bracelet.

y/n’s heart fluttered at his kind gesture. he was just being a friend but even then, it was still doing something to her.

“thanks jay.. that was really sweet.”

the male chuckled as he wrapped his own bracelet around his wrist. “don’t mention it, you deserve to be treated this way,” he mumbled with a nervous laugh.

“i do..,” she said under her breath.

it was changing, everything was changing. the clear picture was starting to change from sunghoon and she wasn’t hating it.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

about an hour had passed and the night was soon ending for the group.

“do we have to go already?” ji-woo pouted.

“yes, love, we’re exhuasted.” jake replied, chuckling as he wrapped his arms behind her.

dae sighed on the side. “well we can always stay out just for a little longer..,”

“you know you’re tired, baby, let’s get some rest hm?” won squeezed his boyfriend’s hands, resting on his shoulder as his eyes were glued shut.

heeseung and min-su didn’t bother to chime in. the two were simply already shutting down from all the walking and constant stops.

“i’m tired too!” y/n added on. “what about you jay?”

“i’m pretty beat, but i should take you home soon.”

“now?”

“mhm, let’s go.” jay quickly confirmed, quietly acknowledging her social battery running out.

the two left with little waves of goodbyes to their friends before they reached his car.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the car ride was quiet through it all. normally, jay loved to go through a highlighted series of what happened best today, but y/n was quiet — indicating that she’d honestly rather stay silent for the time being.

the girl was an introvert, and he was understanding of that, so he only let slow music softly boom in the car as he drove.

it was a change from his old relationships but he didn’t mind it. he knew she was the kind of girl who just wanted peace and quiet at times, and this was it.

when they finally arrived to her place, jay lowered the music and was about to turn to y/n, only to find her plopping her head against his shoulder.

“y/n..?” he tried to call in a low voice. “are you asleep?”

the male waited for a response but got none back whatsoever, allowing him to conclude that she, indeed, was knocked out.

quiet snores left her mouth as she muzzled her head further onto his shoulder. she was comfortably situated, and he loved that she could always just confide into him for that kind of thing.

“cute,” he murmured to himself, beaming a soft grin that displayed his thumping heart for her.

jay parked the car, allowing her to sleep for a few minutes before she woke up out of fear and confusion.

“we’re already here?” y/n grumbled, eyes peeking around the windshield with a groggy expression.

she heard him give a quiet laugh that immediately erupted a mount of butterflies in her stomah as he replied, “yeah but i wanted you to sleep a little, you were really tired.”

“thanks,” she sighed. “today was really fun with you.”

“back at you, get home safe okay?”

“you too,” the girl bunked her wrist against his, causing her to look down at the jingle her bracelet made with his accessory.

then she found it. the matching black bracelet he bought. her heart dropped to her stomach but in a good way.

she had basically confirmed that he was thinking of her in the way she was second guessing.

“your bracelet..?” she uttered out of instinct.

jay tensed up. the instant thought of how awkward it’d be if she didn’t feel the same quickly stole his attention. he was scared and lost, which only caused him to harshly pull his wrist away from her electrifying touch.

“yeah, i like the color,” he bluntly replied with a clear throat.

she smiled, blood rushing to her cheeks as she said, “hey it’s just like-“

“don’t you have to go home?” he harshly cut her off. regret immediately took form on his face once he realized how rude he sounded.

he hated that he was sounding like this because it wasn’t him. he was gentle and reassuring, not cold hearted.

y/n didn’t know how to react though. one minute he’s sweet, and the next he’s cruelly blunt. ‘but maybe it was just from exhaustion,’ she thought to herself before nodding, trying to seem unfazed as she only reached out for the door.

jay wanted to stop and apologize, but he also felt like a creep with getting a matching bracelet without her consent. it wasn’t creepy-like but he was just overthinking it.

as the girl waved goodbye with an attempted smile to ensure everything was okay, jay only pressed his lips into a firm line out of humiliation. he’d like to leave the scene and get rid of the embarrassing moment, but he had to make sure she got in safely.

so when she did, he instantly drove away with a head shake.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a few weeks were now hitting the mark of when they’d gone out with the couples, and y/n wasn’t sure if it was just her, but she felt a wavering distance between her and jay.

it was panicking her. she already lost sunghoon and she now might be losing jay.

to be quite honest though, her mind was already off of hoon. she didn’t notice him as much anymore, and it was clear that her mind was beginning to render him out.

it was jay that kept her up at night now, from the late night ‘what if’s’ to the stupid sleeping scenarios. it was him, and no longer sunghoon.

it was him who was always there for her, and she realized it once he kept a distance.

she hated it. normally, she’d be the one who’d avoid but she missed talking to him. she missed how he’d light up her day just by simply being near her. she missed him.

whenever the group would sit at a table, jay never chose to sit next to her anymore. he’d either force himself next to niki or he’d just sit next to one of the couples.

‘did i do something wrong?’ she’d constantly think.

but it wasn’t her fault, not at all. jay was just too embarrassed to face her after the bracelet incident. it wasn’t that big of a deal, but he hated how he acted. so until he could normally talk to her again, he was avoiding every interaction possible.

“hey,” dae called to y/n. “are you leaving to class soon?”

“yeah, i have a few minutes left. why? you want me gone?” she joked back with a brow raise.

the boy rolled his eyes as little giggles left the others mouths. “well no, i was just asking!”

y/n laughed as well before checking her phone. “yeah just like two more minutes and then i’ll start walking.”

“you’re done at 3, right?” sunoo asked.

“yep, i’ll walk back to you guys around that time.” she checked her phone again and grumbled out a sigh. “i guess it’s time to go..,”

the girl stood up from the table and sadly waved her goodbyes.

“go with her dude,” heeseung mumbled to jay.

the younger shot his head up. “what??”

“you always walk her, why aren’t you walking her?” jake chimed in with a harsh whisper.

“it’s just a little awkward after.. you know..,”

“that doesn’t give you a reason to not make sure she’s safe though. you know you’ll still walk her,” sunoo scowled.

the boy defeatedly sighed, knowing that his friend was right before tossing his bag over his shoulder and catching up to y/n.

as she walked, she felt her bag be taken off of her shoulders, causing her to look up at the person.

“oh you’re walking me again?”

“mhm,” he only responded.

y/n pressed her lips into a thin line that highlighted the awkward tension. she didn’t know what to say since he was unresponsive, but she couldn’t have it this way.

“jay?”

“hm?”

the girl softly gripped his wrist to stop him from walking, pulling him to the side where no other students could see them.

“why can’t you look me in the eyes?” her brows were slightly furrowed now and she crossed her arms.

“what? what are you talking about?” jay attempted to deny. “i can look you in the eyes.”

what a liar.

a puff of air left her mouth as she slightly ridiculed him. he was saying that, but he wasn’t even meeting her gaze.

y/n rolled her eyes before closing the gap between them. her hands firmly held his jaw, squishing his cheeks and forcing him to lock eyes. her head tilted as she tried to figure him out. she normally wasn’t this confident in getting a man to look at her, but for jay, she had to know.

on the other hand, the male was flustered. he felt his heart doing somersaults with how abrupt she suddenly was in doing something like this. he knew she wasn’t the ‘go for it’ type of girl, so for her to have confidence like this was melting him on the spot.

“look me in the eyes, jongseong.” she murmured, causing a light laugh to burst out of him.

y/n reflected the smile back before huffing out a sigh again. “i’m serious, look me in the eyes. are you okay? what’s wrong? are you feeling sick or something?” her hands that held his cheeks immediately started feeling his forehead for a possible heat temperature.

it wasn’t doing well for jay though that his favorite girl was putting her hands around his face. his breathing was getting heavier and his sight was blurring with her soft touches.

he closed his eyes, calming himself down before holding her wrist to stop at his cheeks.

the girl cocked her head to the side again, hearing him softly sigh as he murmured, “just keep it there, it’s making me feel better” — leaving a subtle kiss at the palm of her hands.

this time, it was her heart beating like crazy now. her hands were slightly shaking, but his hold was reassuring in every way.

“so you are sick..?” she uttered, causing a gentle laugh to leave his throat.

“something like that..,”

“jay-“

“i’m sorry for avoiding you. i’m sorry, it wasn’t right of me but i was just feeling embarrassed.” he quickly communicated.

y/n’s eyes softened at his apology. “what are you sorry for? you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“it was just embarrassing that i got a matching bracelet with you without even asking,” he clarified, scratching his head with an awkward laugh.

her heart melted at his sweet manner. even when he was trying to avoid her, he couldn’t.

“you know you could’ve just asked, jongseong,” she teased. “i would’ve said yes to matching with you.”

jay beamed an apologetic smile before turning his gaze down to their feet. “i thought you wouldn’t have wanted to.. especially since…,”

“since?”

“since you still like sunghoon..,” his heart blew out a sigh at the possibility of her still liking their friend.

his attention continued to stay lowered at their feet, and y/n only watched him try to hide his soft pout away, fluttering her stomach with butterflies once more.

“jongseong..,” she called, knees bending down so she could find his gaze from below.

the male chuckled at her act before replying, “stop using my government name.”

“why not.. jongseong?” she teased back.

“what were you gonna say?” jay murmured, ignoring her teasings but secretly liking it.

y/n giggled, clearing her throat as she responded, “do you think i still like sunghoon?”

his heart dropped to his stomach again. he hated this queasy feeling but he couldn’t stop her if it was how she felt. “don’t you..?” he murmured back to her.

the girl saw how he subtly pushed himself away from her, causing her to sigh and hold his cheeks.

“i like you, jay.”

“w..what? you what?” he flustered.

y/n grinned ear to ear. “i said i like you.. jongseong.”

she felt his cheeks heat up with a tint of red, allowing him to cheekily smile in embarrassment.

“one more time,” he murmured.

she exasperated a sigh before pulling his face towards her. immediately, a soft kiss was planted onto each others lips. it was only a peck though, the girl wasn’t confident enough yet.

jay’s lips coiled into a smile as she said, “does that show it better?”

“i think we gotta try again.”

the boy crashed his lips against hers, holding her gently with one hand at the jaw and the other at the waist. his heart was melting with every second he stayed glued to her.

y/n found her hands to be in his hair, dangling itself into his silk strands that caused soft shivers down his spine.

jay smiled into the kiss, lips curling from the sweet sensations he was receiving from his girl, allowing her to smile into it as well.

once she felt out of breath, she pulled away, only to be littered with soft pecks on her lips.

“you’re gonna be late for class, you know?” he murmured against her skin.

the girl giggled before sweetly nudging his head away. “that’s okay, we can ditch again.” she uttered in reminisce.

“are we gonna do something better than study?”

“yeah, like a date?” she impulsively spoke.

jay’s ears perked up with a hue of red colored at the tips. “you’re confident right now.. i like this side of you.”

“you make me confident,” y/n replied, blood rushing to her cheeks even more.

and it was then that it hit her. she always knew why sunghoon matched wonyoung — she brought the best out of him, and now the girl had found that. she had found her match with jay.

“will you still be confident during the date?” he challenged with his infamous smirk.

“guess you’ll just have to take me out and we’ll see.”

“let’s go then.. darling.”

oh?

her heart instantly fluttered at the new name call. “darling?” she whispered, breaths getting heavy.

“cat got your tongue now?” jay murmured as he kissed her cheeks.

“shut up.. let’s go, jongseong.” she rolled her eyes, causing a deep chuckle to be heard from him.

usually, she’d call her crush ‘loser’ and even though she wasn’t in love with sunghoon anymore, it still felt unusual for her to call jay something that’d been reserved for him.

but it didn’t matter anymore. hoon was no longer on her mind.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

about a month or two had gone by and ever since then, jay and y/n were going strong together.

he still walked her to class and ensured her safety came first like he usually did, but this time, he voluntarily left to the car first so he could minimize her walking.

y/n was left alone, sitting on the cemented seat as she texted her friends.

“this seat taken?” a husk and familiar voice asked from behind.

almost instantly, her heart softly sank. it was sunghoon.

she hadn’t talked to him in months, better yet, seen him in some months. ever since she got with jay, he was just never around anymore.

“hoon?” she murmured. that nickname made both of their hearts thump.

it wasn’t in a way of loving each other, but more so of missing each other. they used to be close friends after all.

sunghoon softly grinned as she shook her head ‘no’ to his question, allowing him to sit beside her.

it was awkward. they used to be friends and now, they can’t even talk to each other.

the two were introverts, but they couldn’t find it in themselves to be extroverts with each other again.

“so you and jay?” hoon suddenly uttered.

“yeah.. we just got close after you and wonyoung started dating.”

“yeah i noticed..,”

his mumble was almost incoherent to her, but she still turned to look at him. “what?”

“nothing..,” he awkwardly chuckled. “i’m happy for you though y/n. he’s a great guy.”

“yeah he is.. but thanks —” she paused for a second, “— loser.”

sunghoon softly laughed at the familiar name call. he hadn’t heard that from her in months and it was comforting in some kind of way.

“i’m happy for you too, sunghoon. let’s try and make our relationships last,” y/n joked, causing the two to cackle out quiet laughs.

as he was about to say more, jay suddenly pulled up to the curb, hinting that it was time for her to go.

she waved hoon goodbye as she got into the car and drove off.

the male kept his gaze down once they were out of his sight. that was the most they’ve talked in months, and it’d honestly probably be the last.

he sighed as he wore a small smile. she left too soon for him to even mention how much he missed her, how much he missed everything — their jokes, their talks, their teasings.

they used to always talk about everything and be each others comfort but things were different now.

he was happy in his relationship with wonyoung, but he just missed y/n as a friend.

sunghoon let out another soft sigh while thinking back to the heartwarming memories. “miss you.. loser.” he mumbled to himself, giving a faint grin at his thoughts.

the male stayed stuck on how they used to be until a notification shifted his attention. it was a text from wonyoung, telling where she’d be and how they should meet for another study date.

he smiled before immediately texting back and leaving the scene.

and there it was.

sunghoon and y/n went their separate ways, falling in love with someone else who wasn’t their mirrored self, someone who brought the best in them.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

taglist: @firstclassjaylee @dimplewonie @baevsxii <3

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