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astraystayyh · 7 months

Text

Volcano

pairing : han x reader. enemies to lovers. slow burn.

summary : you've never gotten along with han, your mutual prejudices ruining any prospect of friendship between you both. but you slowly realize that you are more similar than what you originally thought- your darkness recognizing his, and his light yearning for yours.

"I'll take care of you. It's rotten work. Not to me, not if it's you."

cw : depiction of a panic attack, minor injury, both reader and han say mean shit to each other, cursing, mention of alcohol, reader has she/her pronouns.

word count : 13.2k

a.n: highly recommend listening to "Let the light in" by Lana when Han starts playing it in the fic hehe feedback is highly appreciated as always <3

skz quotes series masterlist.

You remember being seven years old, sitting on the floor of your bedroom, while your mom brushed your hair. It was a late July night, a cold breeze swaying your white curtains, akin to the fluttering of a butterfly’s wing. Your eyes were slightly puffy, delicate red veins protruding the white of them. You had just finished watching a Disney movie- the Lion King; heavy sobs escaping your lips when Mufasa died.

There were still faint hiccups coursing through you, a slight shake in your hands as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt. Your mom brought you to her chest, her chin resting on your small shoulder blade. "You’re sensitive, my sweet girl" she had uttered, rubbing your arms soothingly.

It was the first time someone described you as such. You didn’t know what ‘sensitive’ entailed exactly, but it contained the word ‘sense’, so you assumed it was something good, a quality to be proud of you. You could sense, maybe more than others, maybe too deeply. That’s why you cried when you didn’t get a good grade, or when your friends left you alone in the park.

But you didn't mind back then. What was your heart made for if not to feel?

You should’ve paid more attention to the way your mom spoke, to the bittersweetness lingering in her tone. As if she knew exactly what it entailed to be sensitive- to have your heart overflow with delicate feelings for the rest of your life, with no safe destination to guard them in.

☄༄

You’ve forgotten the last time you cried in.

The tears are lodged inside your throat- you can clearly feel them, an uncomfortable weight sitting on your vocal cords, rendering them impossible to use.

You used to cry, freely, so much that you lost count of how much it happened. But you realized that every tear that escaped your eyes, made you vulnerable, weaker, in the hands of the people around you. Every tear that washed over you, only rendered you more transparent for everyone to peer at how they wounded your soul.

So, you conditioned yourself to stop feeling as deeply, or at least to stop showing it. The sadness, the hurt, the anger were all stored within you; but your face remained placid, not betraying how you truly felt. You were like a pond, tranquil at the surface, raging from within.

But on days like this one, you miss the person you were. When the implications of being sensitive still haven’t weighed down on you. When you could get rid of your feelings in the essence of your tears. When you didn’t yet feel bad for feeling.

Chan's eyes are on you, as you type furiously on your laptop. Your vision is so blurry that you can no longer see your lit screen. But you’re afraid that if you pause then Chan would ask if you were okay, and you hated that question. Because you never truly knew the answer to it. Yes, you were okay. But you haven’t cried in six months and your friend didn’t greet you back this morning and you suddenly feel very small in a very large library.

"Hey," Chan taps your hand with his pen and you suck in a slight breath, before raising your head to meet his eyes. "Are you-" he starts but you’re quick to cut him off, knowing exactly where this was headed. "Did you answer question five? I’m stuck on what formula to use."

Chan raises a brow at you, and you blink repeatedly. His eyes travel to your feet tapping furiously against the floor, and he understands.

"I'm still at number four," he finally says and you nod in relief. You’ve been close friends for a year and Chan has come to know you- he’s dropping the subject.

"Oh, and are you coming to the party tonight?" Chan asks, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He’s hosting it and there is hope twinkling in his eyes. You feel bad because you’re about to crush it.

"No, need to revise more for the upcoming test."

"Of course, you’ll still be buried in your books," a sarcastic voice quips up, and you stiffen inwardly. Han- one-third of 3racha, Chan’s self-made producing group, and the bane of your existence. You never liked who you were around Han, he brought out the worst in you. Made all your insecurities roar forward, plastered across your body in neon red.

He was friends with Chan, long before you came into the picture, back into their high school days when Han skipped a class and ended up in the same one as Chan’s. A genius, as everyone around you liked to call him. And they were right- excelling came easily to Han, in everything he ever did. Even tapping into each one of your tender nooks and crannies.

He knew how to expertly push your buttons, how to make his tone sound mocking, and taunting, but only to you. Because you were sensitive, and he knew it, finding it almost amusing to toy with you.

You decide to stay silent because nothing good ever comes out of talking back to him. So, you bite your tongue, turning back to look at your screen. But Han’s elbow grazes your arm, as he leans a bit further into your face. "Come on, live a little, y/n. You’re missing out on the college experience," he makes a big show of opening his arms wide, a single red pen spinning between his fingers. "Quit being stuck up for one night." And it spins, and it spins, and it spins and something ugly inside you crumbles.

"I’m sorry I wasn’t born with a golden spoon shoved down my throat and I actually have to work for my future."

Han’s eyes widen at the raw animosity in your voice, before narrowing down promptly. He’s leaning onto your face again, and his tone is low and cold when he speaks again. "What did you just say to me?"

"Is it so hard to grasp that not everyone is as privileged as you? We can’t all afford to get wasted every fucking night and call it a life."

You’re being mean. This is the rudest you’ve ever been to someone else. You know that your reaction is disproportionate to what he said. But it isn’t just about this instant. It’s an amalgam of every moment Han made you feel small in, because you don’t go out as much as him, because you don’t understand as quickly as him. Taunts thrown your way under the guise of teasing, but you know better.

Still, guilt eats at you as your eyes lock with Chan’s. You should’ve stayed silent, as you’ve been diligently doing for the past year.

"How do you stand being her friend Chan? Is it out of pity?" Han muses, a pout pulling at his lips. You stare ahead as Han tsks lightly, before tapping your cheek with his pen, bringing your face back to him. "I think it is. Because isn’t she so fucking boring?"

Being near Han always makes you hyper-aware of things you never noticed before. Like how a breath has to travel from the depths of your body so you’d be able to release it, and how excruciatingly long it takes for you to draw in a new one. Because Han’s words are never harmless, no, they settle on the confines of your lungs, crushing down any bit of oxygen willing to leave you.

You've had enough.

"When you’re eighty, on your deathbed, and all alone. I hope you know that there is no one around to blame but yourself."

"Don’t cross the line, yn," Chan finally speaks and you scoff, as you get up to grab your things.

"What fucking line, Chan? So, he can insult me all day but as soon as I do it there is a line? Why are you taking his side?"

Chan stays silent and you chuckle dryly. "Of course, you are. You’re only friends with me out of pity after all."

"That’s not true-"

"Well, you didn’t deny it, did you Chan?"

"Yn, I-"

"Save it."

Han’s eyes are glossy as you take one final glance at him. But your heart’s bleeding too much for you to care about his minor cut.

☄༄

For how much time can a conversation haunt someone? Seventeen days, for your case. And you're still counting.

You have nit-picked your fight with Han in the library so much that it's driving you insane. His voice is drilled into your head- the coldness of it as he reeled back from the shock of your words, and then, the pure venom dripping from his tone, as he attacked you where it hurt the most. Chan.

Han chose his words carefully, stitched up the sentence perfectly to hurt you, to stick to your flesh like burnt skin, one that you peeled over and over, each time it threatened to scar.

You haven't talked to Chan in seventeen days. He tried to stop you; on your way out of class, in the line of your campus cafeteria, on the doorsteps of your dorm. But you always fleet away. His eyes were also imprinted into your brain- the disappointment in them when you clapped back at Han.

What about him? You wanted to yell. Why are you only disappointed in me?

But the tears in your pillow have dried. Then fallen again. Then dried once more. And you found the answer to question five. And you miss Chan, terribly so.

That's why you're pacing around his dorm, at 10 pm, when it's also terribly cold outside. Your fingers have gone numb from the ministrations of the wind, but you don't move from your place. You know that the chances of seeing Han- the second person you’ve been avoiding like the plague- would be higher here. But you didn't care anymore.

Your thumb hovers over the call button and you bite your lip harshly. Would Chan pick up? Would he hang up? Was he really your friend out of pity?

"Yn?" a voice calls out, and you startle, turning around to see who it is. Changbin, carrying two bags of groceries in his hand. He's Chan’s friend as well, the final member of 3racha. You like Changbin. He's always being very kind to you. You've grown much closer to him than to Han in the past few months; not that the latter has ever wanted a friendship with you. From the day you met and his eyes narrowed promptly each time you talked. You should’ve known from the start.

"Why are you out here in the cold?" Changbin asks gently, stepping cautiously towards you.

"Chan," you say simply and he nods, understanding what you mean.

"He's not here now, but he'll come home soon. Let's go inside, okay?" he smiles tentatively at you and you hum in reply.

Changbin opens the door and you follow inside. You help him take out the groceries silently, stacking them in their fridge and shelves. Lots of protein powder, and chicken packets. You'd laugh about it if you weren't so sad.

"Chan misses you," Changbin speaks up suddenly, and your heartbeat quickens at his words.

"I miss him too."

"Then you'll be okay."

You try to remember Changbin’s reassuring smile when Chan finally opens the door to the dorm, an hour later. He finds you sitting on the stool in the kitchen. His eyes light up once they settle on you.

And you unravel at the sight.

You're crying, sobs rippling from you as he brings you to his chest. He's patting your head and whispering that it's okay. And you know his shirt is all crumpled from clutching it in your hands. But he doesn't mind. He only hugs you tighter.

"I'm sorry, yn. So, so, sorry. I should've stopped him before, I just... You two are my best friends and I didn't want to add fuel to the fire by talking and-"

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm the one who should apologize for ghosting you."

"I understand why you did it. I fucked up but I missed you so much. Can we please never do this again?”

“Yes please,” you giggle, but the sound withers as the door opens once again.

"What is she doing here?" a cold voice breaks you and Chan apart, as your eyes land on Han. His gaze sucks the breath out of you, and the warmth in your heart fizzles out. Your hold on Chan’s shirt tightens and he takes an unconscious step in front of your body. Han doesn't miss the protective gesture.

"Get out, yn."

"You don't get to kick my friends out of my house," Chan is angry. And you regret ever coming here.

"Last I checked it's my house too." Han doesn't even bother looking at you. He's holding Chan’s gaze as if they're silently communicating. "You know damn well what she said why-" he takes a deep breath, running a hand angrily through his hair. "Fuck this. If she's not leaving then I am."

And with that he storms out, slamming the door behind him. You flinch at the sound.

Chan’s eyebrows are knitted as he stares at where Han stood seconds ago as if trying to conjure him up once again. You never wanted to strain their friendship. You knew how much Han cared for Chan, even if he didn't bear the same sentiment for you.

"Chan, I’ll leave. Call Han and tell him I'm gone."

"You don't have to."

"I know," you reassure, placing your hand on his forearm. "We'll talk more later, okay? It's cold and he has nowhere to go. Just call him, please."

"Fine," Chan concedes. "Call me when you get home, alright?" his eyes finally soften and you squeeze his hand in reply, before heading out as well.

The walk from Chan’s dorm to yours is fairly short, but tonight, it seems like kilometers are separating you from the safety of your bed. There is a heavy weight crushing your bones, most of it being guilt at what just transpired between Chan and Han.

That's what comes with being sensitive- you bear the weight of your feelings and the one of those surrounding you.

Were you out of place with what you said to Han? Yes. Was it eating you inside to see the consequences of your words? Yes. But he was also to blame, you repeated in your head. He was also to blame. Please. You plead, you don't know to whom, maybe to the voice in your head to stop being so mean. 'But none of this would've happened if you weren't so sensitive. So easy to bruise' the voice mocks and you stumble on your feet.

It happens so suddenly it takes you off guard- the way the breath is knocked out of you. You pause, chest heaving as you bend down slightly. Your hand is on your heart as you try to breathe again, but it's shaking so much. Your legs give out under you, and you plop down on the floor, eyes tightly shut. You can't breathe. You can't breathe. You're going to pass out.

"Yn, what-" A hand rests on your shoulder but you shake it off. You don't want to be touched. Not by him.

"Let me help-" Han speaks again, and you scramble away from him, as best as you can anyway. You end up kneeling on the ground once again, your back to him. "Get-get away."

"I know you're mad but you aren't okay and I know how horrib-"

"You aren't helping!" you shout through tears, as your heart threatens to spill out of your throat. "You’ve hurt me e-enough already."

You don't remember how you got home that night, how you managed to open the door or cross the road leading to your dorm. But you remember Han leaving you on the cold ground, just like you wanted. You remember the ache in your bones as you laid on your bed; the burning desire to stop feeling for a night, to cut your chest open and tear off your bleeding heart.

☄༄

One month later

If there's one thing you've always complained to Chan about, it's the fact that his building had an elevator in it, unlike yours.

Today, you’ve come to regret this fact. Tremendously.

You’ve been avoiding going to Chan’s dorm for the past weeks since the last thing you wanted was to see Han. But, he insisted on you coming over, reassuring you that it would only be him and Changbin at home since Han supposedly had other plans.

Well, Chan was wrong. Because Han just walked into the elevator you are in, mere moments before its doors closed.

Your breath catches in your throat as his eyes lock on yours. He looks like he wants to say something but he decides against it, opting for sighing loudly instead, before pressing the button leading to the fourth floor, rather harshly.

Your need to flee has never been this strong.

You watch anxiously as the numbers slowly go up. 1… 2… 3… Then a loud voice startles you and the elevator starts to shake in place. The door is suddenly opened and you are met with a cement wall, blocking your exit.

"What the fuck?" Han groans as you press the emergency button repeatedly, hoping that the elevator will resume its course and this nightmare will be forgotten.

It doesn’t.

"You’re going to break the goddamn button," Han pushes your hand away and you stumble away from him.

"Can you shut up? I’m not in the mood for your bullshit."

"Does it look like I’m happy to be here?" Han scoffs, as a ringtone plays in the elevator, cutting you off before you could respond.

"Hey guys, this happens from time to time, so no need to worry. Is everyone alright?" Someone speaks and you assume it's the worker charged with the maintenance of the elevator.

"Yes," you both reply at the same time.

"Great. We’ve contacted the mechanics but they said there’s a lot of traffic, so it might take a bit longer for them to get here."

"How long?" Han asks the question that’s on your mind as well.

"Two hours, at most, for you to get out."

"Oh, for fuck’s sake," you groan, as hot tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. This is the last thing you needed today- to be stuck in a cramped-up space with the one person who sucks the oxygen out of any room you’re in.

"Thanks, man," Han sighs and you turn your back to him, facing the wall. You’ve had a horrible day, scratch that, a horrible week. Hanging out with Chan and Changbin was the one thing you were looking forward to, only for the worst possible scenario to happen- being stuck in the same place with Han. You feel an urgent need to sob but you can’t cry in front of him. Not when he’s all claws and your skin is tender.

"Wait, are you claustrophobic?" He suddenly asks, seemingly inches away from your body.

"As if you’d fucking care," you scoff, before heading to a corner of the elevator and settling down.

"I'm not a monster, you know," he mutters in an almost sad tone, one that forces you to look up at him. His hands are deep into his pockets, eyebrows knitted as he gazes down at you. "Do you really think I’m that much of an asshole?"

"Yes," you reply instantly, before staring forward again. The hurt that flashes in his eyes shouldn’t tug at your heartstrings, but it does, ever so faintly, like the last wave that grazes your feet as you get out of the ocean. "I’m not claustrophobic," you add after a while and Han finally sits on the opposite side from you.

It’s hot and stuffy in the elevator, and it’s quiet, too quiet for your liking. You’ve never really liked silence for too long, it made the small voice in your head only grow bolder, louder, impossible to ignore.

Thirty-five excruciatingly long minutes go by and the tension only grows more suffocating. It’s simmering, barely beneath the surface, waiting for the person who will finally make it explode.

It’s Han.

“Can I ask you something?”

“No.”

“Come on, we have nothing else to do.”

“Have you tried being silent?”

"Yn," he says sternly and you begrudgingly concede. "Fine. Ask me."

You imagine him smirking slightly, the way he does each time he manages to push you over the edge.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

“We’re not doing this right now,” you shake your head, tone adamant.

"When’s a better time for it? We’re literally never in the same place."

“And whose fault that is?” You smile too sarcastically and he frowns. “So, I’m the only one to blame?”

“Can’t you see how full of yourself you are? Fuck, Han, this is exactly what I hate about you.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“You’re so immature, you never sit back to think of how your words might impact someone.”

"What words yn? I was teasing you!" his voice grows louder and so does yours. "You were hurting me!" you yell, chest heaving. There is something utterly terrifying in this confession- to let someone know how easy it was for them to get to you.

"But I didn’t mean to," he drags a hand through his hair, exasperated. "It's not my fault you felt that way."

An ironic chuckle leaves your lips, as you point at him. "See, you're doing it again! You're blaming me for my reaction instead of evaluating how your actions might have caused it."

"Look, yn," he scrambles to you until there are only a few centimeters separating your bodies. "I really wanna fix this, okay? Can we stop screaming?"

"Why are you so hellbent on fixing it?" you question, as you lean further away from him. He notices and takes a step back, giving you space.

"Because although I don't care about you, I care about Chan. And this is hurting him. So, I want to be civil with you."

The mention of Chan feels like a cold bucket of water dousing the fire within you. You know he’s struggling to be in the middle of two people he loves. He doesn’t deserve that.

"Fine," you sigh softly. “You talk. I’ll listen.”

"I didn't... I didn't know that my words would hurt you. In truth, it looked like you weren't affected at all. That's why I kept pushing you because… God Yn you're so perfect it maddens me."

Your eyebrows knit together at his words- the last thing you expected to stumble out of his mouth. "What are you talking about?"

"You never get sad, never get angry. Your emotions are always in check. You're always smiling, always laughing. Have everything figured out from how you want to be now to where you want to be in the future. And you know yourself, you never step out of order. And this is selfish and stupid but it irked me. Because I am the opposite of you. I'm a mess and too human it terrifies me, so I wanted to see if you had a breaking point. But each time I taunted you, you remained placid. So, I kept pushing to see if you'd break one day because, selfishly enough, that would make me feel better about how broken I am."

"Han, you're so stupid. Aren't you a literal genius? You excel in everything you do and you have fun on top of it, every single night. Don't you realize how lucky you are?"

"Do you really believe I find joy in being wasted and not even remembering what happened that night? I do that because I'm in my mind most of the days and it isn't the best place to be in. So, I like to forget."

“Why do you think I always bury myself in my studies? Because it's safe and it makes me forget too. Did you really think I didn’t feel? I feel too much and that’s the problem.”

Han remains silent as you curse under your breath. "Do you even realize how selfish this is? To test a human's breaking point? All because what? I didn't shove my struggles down your nose? Would you go around and do this to everyone who looked fine to you?"

"I know, I know, I was just in a bad place, and this isn't an excuse but I... I felt as if you were just showing me everything that was wrong with me."

"That is how I felt around you," you chuckle bitterly and he hangs his head low. He’s much quieter when he speaks again. “I guess we’re more similar than I thought.”

"Doesn't excuse what you did. You targeted me and made me feel insane because no one was hearing the hostility in your tone like I did."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I really am. I never thought it'd get this bad and I deserve every name you called me."

"You do." You close your eyes, as Han’s words wash over you. There is so much more you want to say, so much you want to spit out in his face because of his selfish coping mechanism. But you also want peace, for Chan’s sake. So, you try to bury your resentment, just like you do with every other feeling. One day it’ll turn into indifference. You’ll make sure of it.

You bite your lip, before clearing your throat. Your tone is softer when you speak again. "I'm sorry for what I told you in the library. About you dying alone and whatnot. That wasn't nice of me."

"You really hit the nail with that one," Han chuckles quietly, and guilt floods your heart at the expression on his face. "And I'm sorry for calling you boring. You aren't. And for everything I said before that."

"Okay. It's okay." You reassure, a tiny smile drawn on your lips.

He nods before a sly grin grows on his face. "Should we hug it out?" he teases, cocking an eyebrow at you and you stare pointedly at him. "Don't push your luck."

"Yes, ma'am."

An hour later, the mechanics finally manage to get the elevator going, which in turn allows you both to get out. Han opens the door to the dorm, and you find Chan lying on the couch, scrolling down his phone.

"Han? I thought you would..." he starts before trailing off as he looks up. "Yn? Where were you, I’ve been calling you for the past two hours."

"I didn't have signal."

"Why where were-" Chan goes to question before stopping once again. He hurriedly stands up and walks toward you.

"You... Are standing next to one another."

"We are," Han replies, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

"And you aren't... Fighting?" his statement comes out more like a question, which makes both you and Han chuckle.

"We aren't."

"We talked it out, in the elevator which we were both just stuck in," you add and Chan’s eyes grow wide, as a breathtaking smile breaks out on his face.

"Oh my god. Finally. We'll talk about the elevator bit later but it's been so hard trying not to be in the same place as the both of you."

"We know. We're sorry," you both pout in sync and Chan shakes his head, before opening his arms wide. You giggle, before walking to him and sinking into his embrace. Han follows you shortly after, and your eyes meet behind Chan’s back. He shoots you a tiny thumbs up.

Is this how a dandelion feels, you wonder, when someone blows on it in the hopes it'll grant their selfish wishes. Only to be tossed away afterward, lifeless.

You drown out the thought before smiling back at Han. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

☄༄

Befriending two-thirds of 3racha holds within it a lot of privileges. The first one is listening to unreleased music, the second is having exclusive insight into their upcoming performances.

Their gigs don't happen as often as they'd like, because they're still students who unfortunately have lots of assignments. But when a window of free time materializes, they unveil their latest productions at vibrant parties, dimly lit bars, or even the occasional club. Which attracts a lot of people, some even coming from neighboring towns to listen to them play.

Everyone can recognize raw talent, even if rap doesn't happen to be their favorite genre.

This is how you know that they'll be performing Heyday, their latest creation, at Seungmin’s party. You've met him in passing, and Chan insisted that you'd come. Not that you needed much convincing anyway, you fell in love with this song the minute you heard it.

There is an exhilarating energy in Seungmin’s mansion, a palpable anticipation preceding 3racha’s performance, as you all gaze at the makeshift stage. The place is packed, bodies pressed tightly to one another. You feel slightly uncomfortable but you swallow it down. You're here to support Chan first and foremost, you can leave if things become too much for you.

The introductory chords materialize abruptly, and 3racha takes the stage. Chan is clad in a white shirt with huge gaps on his sides, revealing glimpses of his chest each time he bends down. Changbin, on the opposite end of the spectrum, is wearing a tightly fitted black shirt, hugging each muscle of his to perfection. Han, the last one to walk in, sports a loose black shirt, with a low neckline. His nails are painted to match the color of his attire, you notice.

The song kicks off with Changbin's incendiary rap as deafening cheers ring all around you. You make sure to scream on top of your lungs too, as Changbin’s loud voice commands the attention of everyone in the room. You’ve always held a penchant for his rap style- how powerful he sounds, and how addicted you quickly become to hearing him on stage. You remember once telling him that any song that starts with his rapping is a successful hit. He playfully nudged your shoulder but his appreciative smile was hard to miss.

Chan’s part is next and you try to rap along, as best as you can anyway due to your fleeting memory. It sounds mostly like gibberish but you don’t mind, especially when your eyes meet Chan’s and he grins at you, before morphing into the mesmerizing stage persona that's peculiar to him. You clearly remember the first time you witnessed him on stage, and how enthralled you were by the sheer power he exuded. His destiny was intertwined with music, no one could deny that.

A bed squeaking sound comes next, followed by the knocking on the door and you giggle against your will. That was Han’s ingenious touch, as Chan had shared when you'd raised a quizzical brow at him while listening. “Is this based on a real-life experience?” You asked, a knowing smirk etched upon your features, and he pretended to zip his mouth, earlobes turning a vibrant shade of crimson.

Han finally starts rapping in his inimitable style, exuding an effortless, laid-back aura. Your gazes meet at the "let's go play" line, and he tilts his head quizzically at you as he utters his confused "huh?". You raise one eyebrow at him prompting a sly smirk from him, before redirecting his attention to the opposite side of the stage. Yet, your eyes remain on him throughout his entire part.

The boys step off the stage, and you watch from the corner of the room with a wide grin as a swarm of people surrounds them. Congratulations and praise fill the air, and you can tell that 3racha thrives on this moment- it's what they live for, what makes their souls rise up from the ashes.

Chan catches your eye, and you applaud enthusiastically, letting out a happy giggle. He blows you a kiss, and you playfully pretend to catch it, eliciting a small shake of his head. Changbin, who's standing near him, catches the exchange and winks at you from a distance, to which you respond with two thumbs up.

Even though you're a bit far from them, you're certain the boys can sense the pride radiating from you in waves. There's something truly magical about humans existing in their element, particularly people you care about.

Your gaze shifts to Han, and your smile falters slightly. He's also glowing, but signs of discomfort are starting to creep onto his face. You recognize them fairly well, as you've felt them too at times when emotions become overwhelming. So, after a brief internal debate, you decide to act and begin making your way toward him, pushing through the crowd despite the rising complaints behind you.

They fall on deaf ears.

You grab Han's forearm, pulling him with you through the sea of bodies toward the bathroom. He doesn't fight, following diligently behind you. You open the door and pull him inside, pausing as you realize you don't have a specific plan for bringing him here. This is also the first time you've been alone together since the elevator conversation.

"Thank you," Han whispers, and you nod, your eyes softening. "I'm okay, I love performing, I just needed a breather," he quickly adds, as if feeling guilty for being overwhelmed.

"That's completely understandable. You are running on a lot of adrenaline, and the room is so crowded," you say with a smile, turning to the mirror to touch up your makeup.

Han remains silent for a while as you powder your face, before reapplying your cherry lip gloss. You can hear him taking in deep breaths, and you avoid looking at him, worried he might feel embarrassed.

"What did you think of the performance?" he finally asks, and you raise your head slightly. You lock eyes with him through the mirror, as he leans against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. His black t-shirt falls a bit, revealing more of his bare skin, and your eyes trail down for a moment.

"It was really good. I think this song might be my favorite of all yours."

"Really?" Han grins, his words filled with an excitement that warms your heart despite yourself. He's just received heaps of compliments from hundreds of people, yet your words still seem to affect him deeply.

"Yes. I loved your rap, how it started in a laid-back manner, and then you cleared your throat and picked up the pace. It added a unique edge to the song."

"Thank you, really," his smile is genuine, and you giggle softly, shaking your head.

"What's funny?" he asks, walking up to you. You're still facing the mirror, and he's now only inches away from you.

"I didn't imagine you'd appreciate my compliment this much."

"It feels sincere," he shrugs and you nod, finally turning around and leaning against the sink.

"It is sincere."

"Good."

You hold his gaze, eyes only trailing down to go across his face. He looks far different from how he did on stage. Shier, more eager for praise.

"You have..." he steps up until the scent of his cologne tickles your nose. His hand raises ever so slowly to your face, and you hold your breath, as he picks up something from your cheek. His hands are warm.

"An eyelash fell. Make a wish."

A surprised chuckle escapes your lips. "You wish on fallen lashes?"

"You wish on everything when you need hope." his voice is low, a timber so foreign to your ears it sends shivers down your spine. So, you close your eyes, wishing for your heart to quit beating so fast.

"Done," you whisper and he blows the single lash away, his gaze still on you.

"Thank you for coming."

"Of course. I had to support Chan and Changbin." It slips from your mouth before you can stop it, and Han slightly recoils from your words.

"Right, them. Yeah. Of course," he finally backs away, and oxygen fills your lungs once again. "I'm good now. Should we go out?"

"After you," you nod tightly and he walks ahead first, his perfume trailing after him and pulling you into a dizzying dance.

☄༄

The party Seungmin hosted was your last time having fun for a while. Your preparation for midterm exams began soon after, and you found yourself swarmed with assignments left and right. Thankfully, you and Chan were going through it at the same time, which meant you met at the library each day, revising silently near one another.

Except this time, you were joined by Han.

Goosebumps ran across your skin as he pulled the chair next to you, not the good kind of shivers. You were reminded of the fight you had right here, three months ago. Which still left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You don't hate Han anymore. He's actually funny, and you enjoy listening to his ramblings when you go over to Chan's dorm. He's also really different in his home, much quieter, and softer. Much more like you.

But you're also human, and there is still a part of your brain sending off warning signals at his presence. Maybe because the hurt was never buried properly. You just brushed it off under the carpet after your elevator conversation. Most of it was spent shouting anyway.

"Hey," he greets and you just nod in reply. You can feel his gaze linger on you a bit after that, and a pang of guilt twists in your heart. "Hi," you finally reply, but you tune out his response. Why is it that you're sensitive to everyone's emotions but your own?

Twenty minutes go by, then forty, and you can no longer take the uncomfortable feeling clinging to your skin. So, you excuse yourself, hurriedly stepping out of the library.

Han follows you; you can tell it’s him because someone's chair scraped loudly against the floor as soon as you stood up, and that couldn't be Chan because he is always careful with the silence in the library. So, you put on your headphones and walk faster.

This is childish, surely it is, but you can't control your emotions. You've apologized and so did he, you talk from time to time and you even held his arm and took him to a quiet bathroom. So where is all this bitterness coming from?

"Dammit, yn, how are you so fast?" Han grabs your arm pausing you. He's panting slightly and you just blankly stare as he takes in a deep breath.

"Are you okay?" he finally asks and you nod, turning around to walk away. He stops you again.

"I made you uncomfortable, didn't I?" he asks quietly, and you sigh, rubbing your forehead wearily.

"You didn't do anything, I just... Being in that library reminded me of certain things."

"I know. Me too. Can we please talk?"

"We are talking," you raise your brows and he stares pointedly at you. "Come on you know what I mean."

"Fine," you giggle, "we can talk."

"I didn't apologize properly to you in the elevator. Truth is, I did it because Chan was mad at me and I couldn't stand it anymore."

The bitterness- you understand where it comes from now.

"But I am sorry. Truly sorry. I was selfish and I hurt you and this will sound like a joke, but I hate hurting people. I really do. I was just too wrapped up in my problems that I didn't realize how it would affect you and I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I also shouldn't have tried to kick you out that day, but dying alone is my biggest fear, and seeing you in my home made me want to lose my mind because I couldn't get what you said out of my head, but it was so cold outside and again I shouldn't have told you to go out and I am so sorry-"

"Han, breathe," you smile, cutting him off and Han sucks in a deep breath, chest slightly heaving from talking uninterrupted for a minute straight.

"I'm sorry I just wanted to apologize, properly this time. I'm doing it because I'm guilty, not because of Chan. Nothing excuses my behavior, I know. And I wish I could turn back in time and actually get to know you because you're really cool and very nice, but I can't. All I can do is apologize. So I'm sorry, Yn. I really am."

"I appreciate it," you smile, and Han exhales a little from relief. "I didn't know that was your biggest fear, but even if it wasn't, that was uncalled for. I shouldn't have said something so mean. So, I'm sorry for it too. But I'm not apologizing for being mad, you deserved that."

"I did, I did, I know." He's quick to agree. "I don't want us to be awkward around one another. I'm not telling you that you have to be my best friend but, we can be friends, right? But you also don't have to. It's enough if you forgive me and... You know what? Never mind forget I said anything, I'm just nervous and-"

"Okay."

"Okay?" he repeats.

"We can be friends. I accept your truthful apology."

"Actually?"

"Yes."

"Like we can start over?" he grins and you chuckle at the excitement in his face. "Yes."

"Can we hug it out?"

"Too soon," you pout and he nods, a faint blush dusting his cheek.

"Right. Should we go back to the library? I saw that you were stuck on a question. I can help you."

"You won't make any comments?"

"No. Pinky promise." he outstretches his pinky towards you and you muse over it for a bit, before wrapping your finger around his. You grin at Han- your first genuine smile since he's known you. His hold on your pinky falters.

"Okay. I'm in."

.☄༄

Five weeks later- 1:13 a.m.

You were still slightly cautious near Han as if you were both threading along an invisible line. You could talk, but not too much, afraid any old animosity would shine through. And you could stay together, but not too long, in case it gets awkward and you wouldn't know what to do. So, you never mixed, just like water and oil, each of you knowing their place, away from the other.

But you still didn't want to miss out on outings with your friends. So, when Chan invites you for a movie night with Han, and Changbin, you don't say no.

The night runs smoothly, the warm beer you had easing your nerves bit by bit. It was also easier to forget that you once hated Han when he brought tears to your eyes from laughing so hard.

2:56 a.m.

An unbearable heat suddenly envelopes you, your very blood boiling from within. You hesitantly look down, to find your entire body bathed in red, as if your skin had melted away, exposing you to the scorching heat embracing your tender flesh.

You are in the heart of a volcano, with lava bubbling dangerously below. Hanging by a frail thread, you dangle over the edge of death.

And then, you plummet.

You startle awake, your heart pounding in your chest, your hand clutching it tightly. Cold sweat clings to your skin, and it takes you a few moments to realize that you're safe, far from the inside of the volcano that had threatened to consume you.

You glance at your phone- 3:43 a.m. You read. It's only been a mere hour since you went to sleep. You don't think you could drift back into slumber.

Dragging a hand tiredly across your face, you walk into the pitch-black kitchen. You pour yourself a glass of water, hoping that the icy drink will cool you down. You are safe.

"What are you-" you startle, dropping the glass and spinning around, hand pressed to your heart.

"Han, fuck, you scared me," you sigh, tugging at your hair slightly and he's quick to your side, a string of hushed apologies tumbling from his lips.

"I'm sorry, here let me clean it up," he kneels and you follow suit, grabbing his hands and gently pushing them away. "No, I dropped it, let me clean," you reassure, but your hands are trembling as you pick up the shards of glass, any bit of logic clouded by your racing thoughts.

Your heartbeat's ringing loudly in your ears, you barely register the glass cutting your skin until an uncharacteristic warmth oozes from your hand. Blood.

"Shit," you curse lowly and Han illuminates the place with his phone flashlight. "Did you cut yourself?" he asks and you shake your head, walking over to the sink.

"It's nothing, don't worry."

"Yn, let me see," he's standing behind you, the ghost of his breath grazing your exposed neck.

"Han, really it's-" he cuts you off, grabbing your forearm and walking you over to the couch. He finally turns on the lights before crouching down in front of you.

"Show me?" he asks gently and you're too tired to fight him. You open your palm tentatively, taking a look at your cut for the first time as well. It's not too deep, it won't require stitches. But it's also not shallow, blood oozing from it at a steady rhythm.

Han simply frowns upon gazing at your wound, before walking over to his room. You don't move from your spot, gaze lost into the space before you. What would happen if you never woke up? Would you feel your flesh burning? Bones melting as the searing lava-

"Here," he gently holds your wrist, as his eyes meet yours. "This will hurt a bit. Hold my arm as tight as you want and tell me if it becomes too much, okay?"

"Okay," you simply nod.

He dabs up your cut with a cotton pad soaked in alcohol. You hiss softly, as the liquid burns your open skin. Han abruptly stops at the sound. "Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry I didn't mean to I just-"

"It's okay," you smile reassuringly, "I can handle it."

Han nods, resuming his treatment. He's even softer this time, if that is even possible. He's careful when he rubs a soothing gel on your cut, before wrapping your palm in a gauze. He can't find a pair of scissors so he cuts it with his teeth, his lips brushing against the back of your hand. You account the warmth you're suddenly feeling to the aftermath of your nightmare.

"Why are you even up?" he finally asks as he settles next to you on the couch, eyes looking up to the ceiling.

"Nightmare."

"You’re okay?" he asks gently and he sounds truly concerned for your well-being. You aren't used to this. To Han acting like a friend to you. But it feels nice to be cared for, so you don't mind him blurring the lines tonight.

"I'm still a little bit scared," you admit sheepishly and Han's eyes soften under the dim moonlight.

"It passed. You're okay now."

"Am I?" you drag a hand tiredly across your face and Han frowns, inching closer to you.

"Is it a recurring dream?"

"Mm. It tires me out."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I just want to forget." 'Help me forget' you want to add, but you decide against it. "Why were you up, anyway?"

"I got inspiration for lyrics so I had to write it down."

"Can you share some with me?" you ask, tone a tad too hopeful. Han catches it and smiles warmly at you.

"Sure. This is probably going to be in the chorus..." he pulls out his phone, heading to his notes app. "This is what I have so far... I let my frustrated screams out hoping that they’d be washed away in the rain. I send it off with a smiling face, down to the last drops left on my fingertips." he pauses, scrolling down a bit more. "I also wrote this; I think it'll be nice in a verse... I’m sure it’ll get better... Just like the earth hardens after the rain and flowers bloom again."

"You're such a talented lyricist Han," you whisper in awe, and Han’s cheeks warm up at your words, reminiscent of a setting sun. "But I also wish it was as easy as this. To let out all the emotions you bottle inside and for them to wash away with the rain." You bite your lip, as Han’s words echo in your head. "I think... I think that's why I get this nightmare. I don't free my emotions anymore, and they show up in my dreams to torment me."

You don't know where these bouts of honesty are coming from. Maybe because you're too weary to keep up a happy facade. Or maybe because you know that the person who wrote these lyrics must understand exactly how you feel.

"Well... It's raining." Han whispers after a while and you look at him, confusion plastered across your features.

"And?"

"Should we test it out?"

"Test what?"

"Screaming under the rain," he says as if it's the most evident thing in the world.

"What? That's insane, Han we will get sick and..." You pause, as the words dissolve in your mouth like the seafoam meeting the shore. "You know what? Let's do it!"

"Really?" he asks incredulously, a huge grin on his face.

"Yes!"

"Okay, let's go!"

You both abruptly stand up, still only clad in your pajamas. You quickly slip your shoes on before running outside. The rain envelops you in a cold hug as soon as you step outside, rain droplets trickling down your clothes. You don't mind, you have lots of bottled-up feelings to free.

"This needs music," Han smiles as he takes out his phone, putting his playlist on shuffle. 'Let The Light In' starts playing, and you shoot him a thumbs-up.

"It fits the rainy mood," you grin and he nods, squinting his eyes to be able to look at you.

"I think if we scream here, we'll scare the neighbors."

"I know!" you chuckle, wiping away the rain droplets on your forehead. "Where should we go?"

"The empty parking lot!" Han shouts so you'll hear him over the growing rain and you nod. He takes off running and you chase after him. You're both completely drenched once you're a bit far away from the house. But you don't care. Not when there is pure adrenaline rushing through you.

You finally stop, loud giggles escaping your mouth at the thrill of what you're doing. "You should start!" you yell excitedly and Han nods, taking in deep steadying breaths.

"Okay, I'm ready!"

"On the count of three! One... Two... Three!" and Han shouts at the top of his lungs, his screams getting lost in the rain. An incredulous smile breaks out on his face as you giggle loudly, the sound of it ringing out in the downpour.

"You looked insane!"

"I feel insane!" He yells honestly and a fit of laughter takes over you both. You hold his arm to steady yourself.

"You should try it now!" Han urges and you nod, willing yourself to calm down.

"Okay, will you count down for me?"

"Yes," he assures and you clap excitedly. Han can't help but smile at the excitement on your face.

"One... Two... Three!" And you shout, continuous screams spilling from the depths of your soul. Han wasn't wrong- your pain, your fear, your anger are all dripping along the rain droplets, from your bruised heart to the tip of your fingers.

You've never felt this free before.

The two of you don't notice the passage of time, the rain acting as a cathartic release to all your pent-up emotions. It was as if your pain intertwined with each rain droplet, and you were letting go of everything that had held you down. Each scream acted as a break from the burdens of the past, and the worries of the future.

As you finally stopped, panting and soaked to the bone, you looked at each other with raw exhilaration in your eyes.

"So, how was it?" Han yells over the rain and you break out in a relieved smile. "I don't think I’ve ever been this happy my entire life," you beam at him and the sight makes the rain feel less colder to Han.

He watches, a small smile on his face as you twirl around, face looking up toward the sky, a deluge of rain grazing your cheeks like a lover's tender touch. The smile doesn't leave your face as you spin around, happy chuckles leaving your mouth from time to time.

You look... free. As if there was an invisible weight on your shoulders that the rain washed away. A heavy burden that you carried within you, like a secret secret. He likes the sound of that. Maybe that's what he'll name his song.

Han slightly shakes his head as he watches you skip around, clothes completely soaked. You are now standing a bit far away, right beside a street lamp.

Ooh, let the light in

Its light shines on you alone.

Time seems to slow down, as Han’s steps falter. You're smiling, not at him, but at the universe. A happiness so raw filling you that it needs to come out, even if no one's watching.

You're spinning around, delighted giggles spilling from you like the most mesmerizing chorus. Something is building up inside Han, begging for a release. It refuses to come out in a scream- violently. It's tender and soft. He thinks that if you held his hand right now, you'd be able to free it.

Look at us, you and I back at it again

Is it possible to feel something other than an emotion? Because right now, weirdly, all he feels is you.

Cause I love to love to love to love you

I hate to hate to hate to hate you

Your eyes land on Han and there is pure joy dancing in your pupils. He's glad you no longer despise him. He doesn't think he can stomach it anymore.

Cause I want to want to want to want you

You run to him, holding his hand before twirling him around.

I need to need to need to need you

Han can't believe he ever thought you weren't human enough. You are a mosaic of every feeling that makes one human. There are lyrics writing themselves in his head and they're all about you.

Ooh, let the light in

You clasp both his hands, before crossing them over. And then you're both spinning around until the world around you blurs. All he sees is you, and the light surrounding you alone.

Ooh, turn your light on

He thinks he might, if the light is you.

5:22 a.m

"There is a heater in my room, you should come," Han offers as you dry your hair with the blue towel he just handed you.

"It's okay I’ll stay here," you point to the couch but he shakes his head adamantly. "You'll die from hypothermia. Do you know how mad Chan will be if I let you pass away?" he whispers in fear, a hand clutching his heart.

"So dramatic," you giggle, before following him into his room. He goes on his bed first before tapping the spot beside him. You sigh before lying next to him, snuggling further into the hoodie he gave you to change.

"You're still shivering," he remarks, as your teeth clink together.

"It's okay."

"You shouldn't have gone out with just a t-shirt."

"I didn't exactly plan on this, you know," you smile sarcastically and Han chuckles before tapping your shoulder softly.

"Come closer."

You debate for a second before complying, the cold tuning out all the rational thoughts in your head.

Your arm brushes against his and you can't breathe once again. But it's a different type of deprivation. Han always seems to steal the oxygen from your lungs, but for once, you don't mind. Red embers are burning within you and their flames keep you alive. You press your chest to his back, as your forehead rests on his shoulder. Maybe he'll turn you to ashes. Will you rise from them?

"You're so cold," his hand reaches behind to rub your arms soothingly, an earnest attempt to warm you up.

"I’ll be fine, go to sleep. Don't worry about me."

"I can't control it."

In the dark room, Han can't see you curling your hand into a tight fist at his words.

"If you stay quiet then I’ll sleep," you say after a while and Han giggles softly.

"That's the goal. You need to rest."

"You should sleep too."

"I will."

"Okay. Good night, Han."

"Good night, Yn."

You think he's fallen asleep when you speak up again. "Hey, Han."

"Yes, Yn?" He replies instantly, voice slightly hoarse.

"Can you repeat that lyric to me, about the flowers blooming again?" You ask quietly, and you feel him nodding against your chest.

"I’m sure it’ll get better... Just like the earth hardens after the rain and flowers bloom again."

His warm voice vibrates within your body. "That's a nice lyric."

"I hope you'll dream of it instead."

☄༄

Against Han’s strong belief, he's the one who fell sick after your rain-soaked outing.

You knew of it from Chan, who texted you saying that Han caught a nasty cold, and then got food poisoning, which meant he couldn't be there for their highly anticipated meeting—after their electrifying Heyday performance, a record label expressed strong interest in signing them.

"Can you come over and stay with Han?" Chan implores as soon as he answers your call.

“That bad?” You ask, a pout pulling at your lips.

"I don't want to leave him alone. He's been really sick for the past week now, and… it's partly your fault"

"I can’t believe you’re guilt-tripping me into coming," you chuckle even though you know he is right. Han wouldn’t have gotten out in the rain if it wasn’t for you.

"I'm sorry it’s just I don't think he's been good, apart from the illness. And I’m worried, and I don’t know I thought maybe you could talk to him. He reminds me of you, in his sadness, so you might understand what's wrong more than me."

You think it over for a second before rising up from your bed.

"I'm coming"

As soon as you step inside their dorm, Chan pulls you for a side hug, placing a quick kiss on your forehead. “Thank you so much,” he whispers, clearly grateful that you agreed to come. It worries you even more for Han.

“No problem. You can go, I’ll be with him.”

“Thank you, Yn” Changbin smiles before hastily pulling Chan outside the door. You wave them both goodbye.

You cautiously crack open the door to Han’s room, to find it completely engulfed in darkness. The stream of light from the door falls upon Han, who squints his eyes, trying to see who disrupted his fragile peace.

"Hi," you speak softly, finding it a bit odd to raise your voice in such a still room. Han attempts to sit up, before doubling over, hand tightly clutched around his stomach.

You rush to his side, kneeling beside his bed. It's the only lit-up part of the room.

"Still hurts?" you ask, your hand moving in soothing circles on his back. He nods, eyes squeezed shut, and you feel your heart crack at the sight.

"Have you taken any medicine?"

"A few hours ago. I need to eat something before I can take more, but I can't get up to the kitchen."

"Why didn't you tell the boys?"

"Didn't want to be a burden."

"You aren't. I'll make you something to eat. Okay? Try to sleep meanwhile."

"You don't have to," Han shakes his head, his eyes finally meeting yours.

"I know," you smile softly, before exiting the room.

Minutes later, you're back in the room, a bowl of sliced fruit in your hands.

"Do you guys live off protein powder and frozen chicken?" you ask, earning a quiet laugh from Han as he lays his back against the headboard.

"We do. Please save me," he jokes and you laugh, shaking your head. "Good thing I grabbed some fruit before leaving."

"Thank you," he grins, eyes slightly squinting closed.

"Here," you grab a strawberry, bringing it to his lips. His eyebrows raise up in surprise, a sheen layer of sweat coating them. "What? Look at how tightly you're clutching the comforter," you point to his hands and Han sighs, before parting his lips slightly.

His mouth brushes against your fingertips, igniting a cascade of emotions in you. You'll think about what it means later.

You grab a green grape next, feeding it to him gently. A drop of water trickles down the corner of his mouth, and you wipe it away with the back of your finger.

"I can- I can do it," Han mumbles, voice wavering like an unpredictable storm. His trembling hands reach for the bowl, but they struggle to hold it right.

"Han, it's okay, I don't mind," you try to keep your voice gentle, sensing that there is an impending doom awaiting just below the surface.

"No, I- I need to do it. Just let me-" A tear falls into the fruit bowl. "Let me do it, please. I can- I can do it, I’m not useless, I…"

The floodgate opens.

A stream of tears escapes Han's eyes as he looks down at the bowl between his hands. He's crying, eyes tightly shut and the small whimpers escaping his lips feel like a dagger piercing your heart.

"You're sick. Let me take care of you."

"It's horrible horrible work." His voice cracks as his eyes finally lock on yours, and you can tell that his anguish isn't about his illness. These are the words of the shadows threatening to swallow him whole. You have to fight them off with the light.

"I will do it."

As Han lays on his bed, the sound of you washing the dishes resonating from the kitchen, your voice bounces off the dark walls in his head. You didn't try to convince him that it was easy work, you told him you'll do it, even if it's horrible. You'll do it because you want to, not because you can, not because it's accessible. The thought sends a warmth in his chest. It's faint, like a flickering candle trying its best to withstand the wind. But it's there. He holds on to it. He'll shield it with his cupped hands so it wouldn't fizzle out.

"Hannie, you’re okay?" you peer into the room. Hannie- the candle's flame grows higher.

"Mm," he hums, too weak to turn and look at you.

"You're shivering," you remark, and he tightens the blanket around his body. "It'll pass."

You stay silent, and he thinks you've left the room. But then he feels the left side of the bed dip, with you climbing tentatively on it.

"This worked last time when I was cold," you smile softly at him, before bringing his head to your chest and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He feels frail and fragile in your embrace. You hug him tighter to you.

"Warming up?" you ask and he nods against your chest. He's burning.

"Try to sleep," you urge quietly, your hand moving to pat his back. "It will pass."

"What if it doesn't?" Han asks faintly. Please don't let the candle die, he wants to plead.

"There is always light at the end of the tunnel."

"What if the tunnel is closed?"

"Then you go back to the start and find a new one," you respond.

"Can I find it later? I'm so tired tonight." His voice is drowsy, sleep already clinging to his achy bones.

"Just rest for now. You did well," you scratch his back lightly, as he nuzzles further into the crook of your neck.

There was never a candle to begin with- you were the light.

☄༄

Had someone told you five months ago that you'd be lying on Han's bed, watching "Howl's Moving Castle" at 2 a.m., you would've thought they were utterly delusional.

Yet, here you are now.

A lot of things had changed since your rainy outing with Han, as if the universe had shifted into alignment, two stars in the sky finally colliding and making way for something new. You saw him under a different light, understanding that no one picks up a dandelion unless they desperately need the solace it provides.

You've grown to care for him, in the course of the past two months. And funnily enough, you've started to like who you were next to him- just yourself, with no pressure of making conversation, or catering to his expectations of you.

He saw you at your worst anyway, and so did you, there was no use in filtering things anymore.

You've been there through the entire process of writing, composing, and producing Secret Secret- the song whose lyrics had captured your heart. You didn't expect him to ask you to be there with him, he just shot you a text, three days after you came over to his house. 'Wanna be there while I work on the song? I know you liked the lyrics.' It was an offer you couldn't pass up on.

You weren't, in your opinion, much help. Han was gifted in the music realm and song-making flowed naturally from him. But he noticed how interested you were in music, so he called you over each time he worked on the song, even asking for your input at times.

That's why, when the song was finally done and released on 3racha's Spotify account, you decided to celebrate by baking him a cake. You may have dropped an eggshell in the batter (you recovered it later on), and the icing's color turned out less vibrant than what you hoped for. But you managed to adorn it with a garden of little flowers, and with store-bought icing, you wrote the words "after the rain flowers will bloom again."

You showed up to the dorm and Changbin pointed you to Han's room, where he had apparently been holed up all day. You shot him a grateful smile, before pushing the door open with your foot.

"What are you doing here?" Han asked, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips.

"Surprise!" you grinned, pushing the cake his way. "Congrats on making Secret Secret."

"Are you serious?" he chuckled, jumping out of his bed. He peered at the cake, eyes softening as he gazed down at the design.

"You drew a little garden..." he whispered in awe and you nodded, a faint blush creeping up your face.

"I'm glad you recognized what it was. I'm not the best baker," you admit a bit shyly but he shook his head. "It's perfect. I can't believe you did this to celebrate our baby!"

"Your baby," you corrected, although the use of 'our' warmed up your chest, weirdly enough.

"You were here with me every step of the way. She's ours."

"It's a she?" you giggled, and he smiled proudly.

"Mm. Do you accept being her mother?" he mused; hands clasped in front of his heart like he was praying you'd say yes.

"It would be my greatest honor," you nodded solemnly, and he let out a breathy chuckle, grabbing the cake from your hands and setting it on his bed.

"Should we hug it out?" he teased, arms stretched wide but you merely stared at him, unimpressed.

"Come on," he whined, "you can't reject me for the third time. And, in front of our child. On her birthday!" his tone grew louder and you couldn't help but giggle at his mock outrage.

"Try harder."

"Our child won't know what a loving parent relationship is and then she'll seek out unhealthy love from the ones around her and-" you cut him off by finally wrapping your arms around him.

You've always known that being near Han left you breathless, but this time, it felt as though he was breathing life into you. You close your eyes instinctively, as his hold tightens on you. He smells immensely nice, like pinewood and soap. You should've hugged him sooner.

"Thank you," he said quietly, forehead pressed against your shoulder blade.

"You did well," you whisper back.

"We did. She's our child, remember?" he reprimanded and you laughed faintly.

"Yeah, ours."

Hours later, the movie's credits finally roll down, and the finished cake sits idly by Han's desk.

"I should go," you rub your eyes tiredly, and Han stares at you as if you are out of your mind.

"At this hour? Do you want our kid to lose her mom?"

"Han," you drawl, hitting his head with the pillow next to you. "You can't hold me hostage."

"I can, as your husband."

"Since when are we married?"

"Since you agreed to be Secret's mother." Another playful hit to his face.

"Stop attacking my face, how will I get laid then?"

"So, you are cheating on me?" you ask, feigning outrage.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry baby you're the only one I want." You falter at the nickname before hitting him even harder, matching the tempo of your quickening heartbeat.

"You're crazy," he laughs, grabbing your wrists and pinning you onto the bed. He's hovering over you, eyes hooded with a tender intensity as he gazes down at you.

"Will you stay, please?"

"The couch is uncomfortable," you reply, avoiding his eyes. He lets go of one wrist before holding your chin gently, urging you to look at him.

"You can sleep here. We've done it before."

"You were freezing both times. That's why I did it."

"I'm very cold tonight," he pouts, eliciting a surprised chuckle from you.

"Are you now?"

"Very much so."

"Fine. Only because I don't want you to die from hypothermia."

"Thank you!" he grins excitedly, finally letting go of your wrist. You bring a hand to your flushed cheeks, as he tosses a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants in your direction.

"Get changed! There is a spare toothbrush in the cabinet."

You make sure to groan theatrically, before heading into the bathroom, where you splash your face repeatedly with water. You aren't used to this- being a blushy mess, because of Han, nonetheless. It was dizzying you, how things took the complete opposite turn between you and him.

At least, back then you weren't alone in your hate, you couldn't stand being alone in your affection.

So, you'd stop this, whatever feeling that's coursing through you. Tomorrow, you will firmly close the door on the blooming feelings within you. But tonight, you’d both lay on the same bed, arms brushing against one another. It's completely dark and quiet, but there is an entire symphony playing within you.

"Thank you for today," he whispers, turning around and tucking his arm under his head, this way he's facing you.

You mirror his actions, and your fingertips brush against one another. You can't see him but you can feel him. He's everywhere, wrapping around all your senses.

"Thank you for making this song. It's very comforting to me."

"Why is that?" he questions, inching closer to you, you can feel his minty breath fan all over your face.

"I’ve always felt like I carried too many emotions within me. Like a volcano, bubbling over until the day I explode. I never liked feeling this way, so I tried to hide it," you confess softly.

"Like a secret secret."

"Like a secret secret," you repeat, glad that he understands.

"You don't have to hide with me," he says after a few silent beats, and you swallow nervously.

"I know." you lick your lips as the music inside you grows louder. "Still cold?"

"A little."

"Come closer," you beckon, and he complies instantly, wrapping his arm behind your back and drawing your chest close to his. Your legs entangle with one another, as your face lays on the crook of his neck. It's intimate, far more than any time you've done it before. You don't want to sink in his hold in fear of never resurfacing again.

"Good?" he asks, voice tinged with a newfound raspiness.

"Mm," you hum, and he releases a relieved sigh.

You've once read that everything in this universe sings. Every atom's vibration creates a sound, contributing to a grand celestial chorus. It's an unscientific, but lovely thought, to wonder who our hearts sing for.

Right now, it's for Han.

☄༄

The music echoes through your being, an ever-present melody that refuses to fade into silence. Even with no audience to enjoy it.

Han always found his way back to your side, no matter how many times you've tried to distance yourself from him. And you couldn't bring yourself to refuse him, because you were friends, first and foremost. And friends don't abandon one another just because a mere glance at them sprouts a blush across your cheeks.

That's how you find yourself on your way to Han's dorm, for the third time that week. Watching movies together has become your little tradition, for the past few months, and sometimes even Chan joins in. Although he mostly enjoys shooting you a knowing smile, to which you flip him off.

Your phone rings and Han's name illuminates your screen. You smile against your will.

"Can't wait to see me this much?" you singsong and Han's chuckle rings through the phone. It's rich and deep, causing you to tighten your hold on the device.

"Yes. And can you please go to the store? I'm out of snacks."

"What do I get out of it?" you muse, changing directions to the nearest convenience store.

"Snacks."

"Asshole," you giggle on your way to cross the road.

"And my eternal gratitude of course."

"Right, because I can't-" Loud tires screech right beside you and you startle, letting out a loud yelp as you drop your phone.

A hand on top of your heart, you bend down to pick up your fallen device, as the driver gets out of the car that grazed your body, mere inches away from hitting you.

"Are you okay, miss? I'm sorry I didn't see you." The middle-aged man is quick to your side, and you glance at the small kid in his car, willing yourself to calm down for their sake.

"I'm fine. Just a bit startled. Drive more slowly, there is a kid with you."

"I know, I'm sorry," he drags a hand through his stressed features and you couldn't help but feel sympathy for him. "It's okay, don't worry about it. Just pay more attention to the road, okay?"

"Thank you so much. Thank you," he clasps his hand in gratitude before getting back to his car and you wave him off, your heart still wildly beating in your chest.

You head into the convenience store, picking up the snacks you know Han loves before paying for them. But as soon as you step back outside, you spot a disheveled Han crossing the road, sprinting toward the store. His pace quickens upon spotting you.

"What are you..." your question is cut short as his arms wrap around you, pulling you to his chest instantly. You can feel the frantic rhythm of his heart, and you're confused as he pulls away, hands cradling your cheeks and turning your face left and right.

"You're alright, nothing happened to you, right? You’re okay?" he inquires urgently and you let out a confused giggle, as you grab his arm to steady him.

"What are you talking about?"

"I heard the tires screech and you yelled and then you didn't pick up when I called and I thought-" his voice cracks. "I thought something happened to you."

"No, no. I'm okay. Nothing happened, I promise." you reassure, as he brings you to his chest once again, his hand smoothing the top of your hair.

"I was so scared," he kisses your temple, as his thumping heart resounds within your chest. "So terrified that something would happen to you. I thought I'd lose my mind."

"You don't mean that," you shake your head slowly, peeling yourself away from him.

"Can you really not see how much I care about you? How I crave being near you?" his voice raises a slight octave. The music in you picks up.

"How long do I have to pretend to be cold to have you nearby? For god's sake, I'm never cold around you, yn. When I see you, I ignite." He takes in a deep breath, pressing his forehead onto your shoulder. "And I... I couldn't have lived with myself if something happened to you. I... You drive me crazy, Yn. When we became friends it felt like I was stepping inside a home for the first time, and yet I already knew each turn in it."

He grabs your arms, shaking you slightly as his chest heaves up and down. "My darkness recognizes yours and my light is you and you- you think I wouldn't care if anything happened to you?"

He shakes his head as tears prickle in the corners of his eyes. Has his music always been this loud, were you just not listening properly?

"I'm scared because we didn't start well and I understand if a part of your heart still resents me, I do. But I don't think I can pretend anymore. Not with you," his voice softens as his gaze locks on yours.

"Were you pretending too?" He asks, hope dripping from his tone. "Do you feel it too?"

A split second goes by. A candle flickering somewhere. A dandelion plucked from the ground. The shadow of a cloud passing over the sun- and you pick.

"I feel it too. So much that my heart feels like it’s singing for you, Han."

"I'll sing for it in return," he whispers, before crashing his lips onto yours. His hand slides up the back of your neck, drawing you closer. You drop the bags of groceries as you cradle his cheeks, feeling them warm up beneath your touch. You can't believe you've ever disliked your heart for feeling too much, not when the lovely emotions flowing in your heart threaten to burst it at the seams, submerging you in a warmth you've never known before- Han.

Two months later

You have 3 new messages from: hannie

"kept this song a secret from you baby but i wrote it for you so you can't be mad"

"i don't know if you remember but you’ve once told me that you are a volcano. as if that’s something that’s supposed to put me off. well, some people dedicate their lives to studying volcanos. and i would dedicate mine to learning you."

"Volcano.mp3."

Light.

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harunayuuka2060 · 13 days

Text

Twst Unveil Event Part 2

*In the Mirror Chamber*

*Yuurin, Jack, Ruggie, Malleus, Silver, Sebek, Rook, Epel, Floyd, and Jade are already there.*

Malleus: Seems that everyone is here.

Sebek: It's a pleasure for us to be in a trip with you, Waka-sama!

Malleus: Yes. Thanks to Yuurin who graciously invited me.

Yuurin: Don't mention it, Malleus-senpai.

Ruggie: Um, Rook? Is that a camera?

Rook: Oui!

Jack: Why?

Rook: To take photos of Monsieur Tranquille, of course!

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: No, Rook. That's our job.

Jack: Yes. We need to update Leona-senpai every hour.

Epel: When did Leona-senpai become such a worrywart?

Floyd: Ne~ Ne~ Damselfish~ Are we going to have a sleepover~?

Yuurin: Yes. I believe so.

Floyd: You can share a bed with me and Jade~. You'll be our pillow~.

Silver: You can't.

Floyd: Eh~ Why not~?

Jade: Is there a problem, Silver?

Silver: Yuurin needs a good night's rest.

Jade: Ah, now that makes sense. *chuckles*

Floyd: Eh~? But I sleep like a baby lamb~.

Them except Yuurin: We all know that's a lie.

Yuurin: It's time for us to go.

Yuurin: We have arrived.

*The fresh breeze immediately welcomes them.*

Them: *sigh in contentment*

Jade: I like this place. *chuckles*

Silver: It feels like a good place to sleep in...

Sebek: Silver! Don't fall asleep!

Yuurin: I'm glad you find the place relaxing.

Yuurin: Though it's good while it lasts.

Jack: Hm? What do you mean by that, Yuurin?

Yuurin: Here she comes.

*The ground started shaking*

Epel: Eh— Are we having an earthquake?!

Yuurin: No.

"YUURIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Them: Huh?

*A giant buff woman comes charging at them; or more likely towards Yuurin.*

Yuurin: Good morning, Philomela.

Them: That's... PHILOMELA?!!

Ruggie: Yuurin! Move aside!

Philomela: YUUURIN! *sweeps her off her feet and gives her a big, tight hug*

Philomela: Oh look at you!

Yuurin: How are you, Philomela?

Philomela: I am doing GREAT! *laughs*

Them: ...

Philomela: Oh. And these are your schoolmates, no?

Philomela: They look promising!

Them: *all of them smiles*

Yuurin: Philomela, can you put me down?

Philomela: Ah, yes, yes. Of course.

Floyd: Wow. She's as huge as a whale.

Epel: What the— Why would you say that?!

Philomela: A WHALE?!

Philomela: Did you hear that, Yuurin? He called me a whale!

Yuurin: Yes. I heard it loud and clear, Philomela.

Silver: She looks happy. Was that a compliment?

Yuurin: Yes. The best one at that.

The others: Oh...

Ruggie: *mutters* Wow. If it were in any other places...

Jack: *mutters too* You would have been slapped.

Philomela: Have a tour of the place while I assist the other schools.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Didn't you say no one wanted to participate?

Philomela: Well, after making an announcement that Night Raven College will join, different schools have shown their interests.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: I see. In that case, we will see you later.

Philomela: *takes her leave*

Floyd: So~ What should we do now~?

Malleus: I want to hear the beliefs and culture of this place.

Yuurin: There are tons of them.

Rook: Can you give us an example?

Yuurin: Hmm...

Yuurin: If you happen to lock eyes with an animal and it starts to approach you, run.

Epel: Huh? But why?

Jack: Is it because it's attacking you?

Yuurin: No. It means a god has taken a liking on you.

Them: ...

Rook: And why is that a problem, Monsieur Tranquille?

Yuurin: Kingdom of Heroes have records of wars and long-time disputes just for this very reason.

Ruggie: Yikes.

Floyd: Oh...

Floyd: There's a bald eagle staring at Guppy right now.

Epel: ...

Malleus: You are being liked by a god.

Yuurin: Oh. A bald eagle.

Yuurin: That's not good.

Epel: *panic noises*

*Later, Yuurin has to convince Epel that it was only a myth to stop him from crying*

Leona: How is everything there?

Yuurin: Not a problem so far.

Leona: Good. That's all I have to say. I'll hang up now. *ends the call*

Ruggie and Jack: ...

Ruggie: In 3... 2... 1...

Ruggie: *Leona is calling him*

Ruggie: *answers*

Leona: No sleeping in the same bed.

Ruggie: Yes, boss. Copy. *then Leona hangs up*

Jack: Aren't we sharing beds already?

Ruggie: Shh. You're going to attract the strict brother energy, Jack.

#twisted wonderland #twst yuurin #twst jack #twst ruggie #twst floyd #twst jade #twst rook #twst epel #twst malleus #twst silver #twst sebek #twst oc philomela #twst leona #twst unveil event

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meltinghun · 4 months

Text

A real gentleman ; Joseph Descamps.

summary: Joseph and Reader never got really along until something changed.

warnings: genderneutral!reader, enemies-to-lovers, idiots in love!!, Y/N mentions lol, just kiss already.

author's note: Hi! I wrote this bc I fell in love with Mixte 1963, and when I looked up for ffs, there were NONE, so I said, 'I'll take one for the team' and came up with this. Please keep in mind that I'm not a writer and english is not my first language, I'll appreciate it if you can point at any errors. <3

The chilly breeze hitted their faces, making them close their eyes momentarealy due to its force, breathing in the smell of wet soil mixed with the freshly made bread from the bakery a few houses down the road.

The day looked very promising; today they woke up a little bit earlier than usual, using the extra time to finish in advance some english homework assigned for the next week and even strarting a big upcomig proyect due to the end of the month, hearing the weatherman in the radio as a background noise, announcing that it was going to be an unusually warm day of autumn.

Everything seemed perfect, the subtle orange hue of the skyes illuminating their face as they walked and the soft rumbling of cars passing by the principal street made them feel like a character of one of those romantic movies they dearly love watching, a thought that felt reinforced when every leave they stepped on made a perfect crunch sound. A soft greeting left their lips when they walked past one of their neighbours who was heading out to work like many other people did at those hours.

It truly felt like a peaceful morning.

'You seem lost in thought. Are you daydreaming about me already?'

Until it wasn't.

They dedicated a slight scowl towards the person who dared to interrupt their peace and inhaled a big breath of air before answering.

'Not even in your greatest dreams, Descamps.' They made a condescending gesture with their hand. 'Now leave me alone, yeah? I was perfectly fine until you came with your annoying presence.'

A booming laugh abandoned his throat. 'Don't act so disinterested. I know you couldn't live without my annoying presence even if you wanted.'

Joseph Descamps. He was a classmate of theirs that took an interesting liking towards their persona, or how they liked to say, a liking towards making their life miserable.

Since the start of the year he took every possibility to annoy them out of their mind, it started with some snark remarks insulting their way of doing certain things and it slowly progressed to petty acts, such as slighty tugging their hair when passing each other, hide their belongings when they aren't looking and even blocking their path by standing in the entryways, smiling down at them while demanding a 'password' that changed every day. Just petty acts meant to be a pain in the head.

He was everything they couldn't stand: a bully with some serious narcissist tendencies who, on top of it all, loved to get a rise out of people by pushing their boundaries and provoking them in any possible way.

But even with that horrendous description, Y/N couldn't avoid that rare feeling at the bottom of their stomach whenever he was close. At first they thought that it was a reflect of how disgusted they truly felt by his persona and the gross acts he usually did, a few weeks later, that feeling was accompannied with their heartbeat increasing when they noticed that he was invading their personal space, but chalked it up as just being nervous of his tall frame hovering them like some sort of prey, that made total sense on their head. However, some days later, he did something that made them realise what they truly felt for the boy with the patch.

It started to rain towards the end of the day, exactly 15 minutes into their english class and the frustration was clearly palpable, it was so unexpected that nobody could've predicted it; what it seemed to be a passing grey cloud turned out to be a massive downpour, Y/N started to complain with their friends about how it was a shame that they chosed to use the new sweater their grandmother knitted for them and how sad it was that now it would get ruined under the relentless rain. When the class was over, they noticed how Joseph went outside the building running and disappeared behind the school gates. They thought it was really weird, but they knew better than to expect something coherent from him. Minutes passed and it seemed like the temporal was getting worse so a few people decided to just suck it up and walk under the cold rain, sighing for themselves and rapidly lamenting once more the lost of the sweater, they prepared to follow the steps of the brave mass of students when a breathless voice interrupted their movements.

'L/N, wait!' A disheveled and completely soaked Joseph made himself seen, his shout drawing attention to the both of them.

'What do you want now, Descamps? I'm already late to home, I don't need you keeping me here any longer than necessary.' They stated with a confused frown, curious as to why was he there but trying to mask it behind indifference.

A smirk made its presence on his sharp features. 'I know, but I couldn't just let you go like that under the rain, that wouldn't be so gentlemanly of me, don't you think?' From behind his back, he pulled a blue umbrella and extended it to a dumbfounded Y/N.

Was that really happening right now? Did the most annoying person they ever met just ran under the rain to bring them an umbrella? And not only that, but he somehow managed to get one with their favorite color, too. Did he just called it to be a mere gentlemanly act?

It might as well start raining cats and dogs.

They opened and closed their mouth, being left without anything to say for the first time, a half-hearthed chuckle interrumping their messy train of thought.

'I heard what you said about your sweater and how sad you would be if it got ruined.' They swore that their heart would get out of their chest for how hard it was beating. 'And I didn't want you to get heartbroken for it, so I thought that you could use one of these.'

He closed the distance that separated them by taking a few steps, reaching out for their free hand and making them hold the umbrella, the contact between their fingertips sparkling a something deep inside each other.

'I know we are supposed to not like each other, but let me be nice to you for once, please.' His eye shining with an intensity they couldn't explain. 'Don't worry, we can keep hating us tomorrow.' When he saw that they wouldn't object, he turned around and began walking outside, getting under the rain once more.

Feeling the heat creeping on their face and having found their voice, they asked out loud.

'How did you know?' His head turned around enough for them to see his face. 'How did you know that it's my favorite color?'

They knew that it could've perfectly been a mere coincidence, something insignificant that shouldn't be overly analized, but something told them that it wasn't like that. They really hoped it wasn't. And it was confirmed when he flashed them another one of his infamous smirks.

'Sometimes I listen to you more than i should.'

Since that very moment it's been really difficult to fight the involuntary smiles that made a way into their face when he unexpectedly tries to integrate them to a conversation by asking their opinion on a subject, or the feeling of warmth that invaded their chest everytime they made visual contact and let's not forget how everytime they both "accidentaly" brush hands Y/N had the extremely rare need to interlock their hands with him.

But after all, he was still Joseph Descamps, the attractive cocky idiot who is always up on some trouble that he himself seeked out.

'...-ou cold?'

They blinked repeatledly with confusion written all over their face, the taller boy smiling down at them for being able to catch them distracted.

'Huh?'

'I asked if you weren't cold.' He repeated the question slower, a soft look on his eye. 'You are shivering'.

If he didn't pointed it out, they wouldn't noticed that, in fact, they were shivering. The chilly air becoming colder than before making them lowly insult the unstable weather of the so-called "unusually warm day", having only a thin cardigan that didn't do much to help.

'It's nothing. The school's a few blocks ahead, and I can take a little bit of cold.' Grumbled under their breath, only to sneeze some moments later.

The boy snorted while shaking his head before swiftly taking off his coat and placing it on their sholders. 'You are not going to catch a cold, or at least not on my company.'

'You are being awfully nice to me lately.' In a slight moment of braveness, they blurted out the question that was tormenting their head. 'Are you flirting with me, Descamps?'

An incredulous look got settled in his face, and they regretted saying it immediately, wishing to come back on time to stop themselves and save them from the embarrassment. Did they read the signals wrong? Was he only trying to become their friend? Was he only being nice? Was he...?

'Yes! Thank you for finally noticing it, I was starting to think that you were cruelly ignoring my advances.' A beautiful and dashing smile was sent in their direction, the biggest they ever saw him smiling.

And it was because of them.

A shaky sigh left their lips accompanied by a nervous laugh, not realizing they were holding their breath, with equally shaky hands coming up their head to accommodate their hair on a jittery action.

'I... I didn't know, really. I had a slight impression, but I thought that I was imagining things.' They cleared their throat in an attempt to regain their cool and collected personality. 'So, when are you taking me on a date then?'

The slight quiver on their voice was noticed by the still very amused boy, who took mental notes on how cute they looked flustered and to try to do it again in the future when given the opportunity.

'Would you accept if I asked you to skip school with me and have a date right now? I don't think I can wait any longer.' He asked with a playful tone, typical of him.

They let out a snort. 'I would tell you that you are crazy if you think that I would do something as risky as that. But lucky for you, I'm free today, so meet me at the cinema at four o'clock.'

'Then I shall see you there.' Replied between soft laughs, not believing that this was really happening. 'Some recommendations for this poor soul?'

The open gates were a few meters ahead of them, the other students that hanged outside throwing curious and shocked looks on their direction when they noticed the much larger coat that lied on Y/N's shoulders and the flustered smiles on their faces.

'Yes, the most important thing, don't you dare being late. If I get there and I don't see you, you can even forget that we know each other.' He brought both hands up in the air in a sign of redemption. 'I'm serious about this. You'll regret it if you do.'

'I wouldn't even dare thinking about it, I'll let Magnan take my other eye before screwing my opportunity with you.'

Their eyes widened at the hidden seriousness of the statement and the simplicity with which he pronounced it, the sincerity of it all making their heart race like crazy. Slowly nodding their head while trying to gather their thoughts.

'Well, it's settled then, at fo-...'

'Four o'clock sharp, I couldn't forget even if I wanted to.' He made a pause, regaining his usual playfulness. 'Should I bring you flowers? I want to be a real gentleman with you.'

'Okay, now you are showing off that you know how to flatter someone, shut up.' Rolling their eyes with a smile, they started walking toward the gates, leaving him behind. 'And I like camellias, for your information.'

'I only wish to flatter you, nobody else!' He said loudly, making people start to whisper about the supposed swear enemies.

'You don't want to know.' Was the only thing they said, accompanied by a slight shrug of shoulders.

Trying to bite back a bigger smile they waved him off, getting closer to their friend group with each step they took, all of them looking the exchange with incredulous eyes, silently begging for an answer as to what just happened.

They never before wished that the day would end up sooner.

#mixte1963 #mixte 1963 #joseph descamps #joseph descamps x reader #vassili schneider #voltaire high #mixte 1963 x reader #enemies to lovers

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supernovafics · 3 months

Text

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k words

warnings: explicit language, (slight) jealous!steve, brief mention of blood/injury (reader has a lil fall)

summary: in which everything has changed for steve after that night at the bar and morning in your bed, but he hasn’t admitted that to you yet. being honest is much harder than he thought it would be and no moment feels completely right, so he continues to pretend that nothing has changed. but, a day at the park playing basketball with you makes it feel a thousand times harder to keep the secret

author's note: the slow burn will end one day (eventually) (i promise) i just love dragging things out for absolutely no reason<3 (i’m sorry!)<333 anyways enjoy this very slight jealous!steve moment! he’s a bit of an asshole in this but also like not really and it’s only kinda for a second

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1986

It actually wasn’t all that surprising when Steve asked you to go to the park— that Saturday marked the first slightly warm day in months.

And maybe saying that he “asked you” was a bit of a stretch because this felt more like a hostage situation; one that you technically orchestrated since, as one of his Christmas presents, you promised that you would play basketball with him one time. And today, on one of the first few days of March, he decided to drag you out of the apartment and to the park that was a quick drive away and had semi-nice basketball courts.

You changed out of your typical Saturday attire, which simply consisted of a hoodie and shorts, and into a cream-colored t-shirt that said, “Sports Suck. And you do too” in black lettering, Steve got it for you for your birthday, and it felt almost too fitting for this moment. You also had on a pair of black athletic shorts that had been your usual attire during high school gym class.

“You’re the only person that I would ever subject myself to doing this for,” You said to Steve as you stepped out of his car and grabbed the basketball that had been sitting at your sneaker covered feet during the drive. “So, I hope you understand how huge of a deal this is.”

Steve laughed a bit. “I know, and I feel honored that you’re risking your life by doing this for me right now.”

“You say that jokingly, but I brought a first aid kit just in case this ends badly,” You said and handed the basketball over to him. “So, what’s first? A riveting round of HORSE?”

“Before we play any games, and I beat you at all of them, let’s just shoot around for a bit so you can get used to it. Was the last time you played basketball really at my eleventh birthday party?” He asked, shooting the ball from a little bit in front of the three-point line as he spoke and making it almost too effortlessly.

You grabbed the ball as it bounced on the court and then took a shot. You were standing much closer to the basket than Steve had been but still missed.

“If that didn’t just answer your question, yes, your birthday party was the last time I even thought about playing. I actually think it was that day that made me realize I should stay away from all sports.”

“You hadn’t been that bad back then.”

You gave him a look. “Steve, I hit your grandma with a basketball. I missed a shot so bad that it hit her.”

It was that day that you were banned from using the basketball hoop in Steve’s backyard, rightfully so.

“Okay, yeah, but she was fine and forgave you immediately. And even made sure you got an extra piece of cake when you started crying because of how bad you felt,” He said, tossing the ball to you so that you could try another shot.

“Still doesn’t change the fact that I’m horrible at this,” You said before taking a breath and shooting the ball. You missed again, but it at least hit the rim that time.

“That’s progress,” Steve said and gave you an encouraging smile.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Exactly twenty-three minutes had passed, and the only reason that you were keeping close track of the time was because when Steve had dragged you out of the apartment, you told him that you’d only be playing for an hour; unless you somehow turned into a prodigy.

You had lost count of how many times you shot the basketball, but you knew that the number of times you successfully made a basket was four. It was an embarrassingly low number, and you definitely were not a prodigy, but each time you surprisingly made a shot, you’d gasp in shock and Steve would whoop happily and give you an enthusiastic high five while saying that the pointers he was giving you were working. You weren’t entirely sure that was true— and it wasn’t because he was a bad teacher, you were just a bad student. You were certain that each shot you made was based on pure luck and simple probability; if you kept shooting the ball, you’d eventually end up making something.

And when you told Steve exactly that, he only shook his head at you. “No, you made those four shots because you’re good.”

How happy and positive he was being about this entire thing was the only thing that made it bearable.

You laughed a bit. “I love you and your encouragement, but that is such an overstatement.”

“For someone that hasn’t even touched a basketball in eight years, you are good.”

“Thank you,” You said with an amused smile on your face instead of rebutting his statement. “I’ll make sure to try out for the local rec team when the time comes.”

“That’s a great idea. I’ll coach you to help you prepare,” Steve said jokingly, and you only laughed in response.

You were about to ask him to toss you the ball, but a group of guys walking past you two, probably headed to the empty hoop on the other side of the court, caught your attention for a second instead. There were four of them and one smiled at you as he passed by you and Steve and he was kind of cute so you smiled back.

You were completely unaware, but there was something about that smile you gave the guy that made Steve have to look away from the entire nonverbal interaction and focus on the basketball in his hand instead. All too quickly he wanted to blurt it all out, everything that had hit him so abruptly that morning in your bed barely two weeks ago.

I love you. I’m in love with you.

For the most part, that thought was the only thing that consumed his mind these days, especially when you two were together; which of course was way more often than not.

There had probably been at least a hundred moments where he almost accidentally let it slip. Hours after it all had hit him, you two were sitting on the couch mindlessly watching some random sitcom and you leaned your head on his shoulder and he was so close to simply whispering it to you. And then when you two were in your Film and TV history class that Tuesday and writing unserious notes back and forth to one another in the margins of his notebook, he wanted to just write the five words down and slide the notebook back over to you. And just last night when you two were driving to the movie theater to see something with Robin and Eddie, he felt the urge to say it when a stupid love song that felt as if it cheesily summed up exactly how he was feeling came on the radio.

However, he would always bite his tongue right before he told you because he was waiting for that perfect moment to be honest with you, and nothing felt entirely right just yet. And it especially didn’t feel like a good time in this moment where you were smiling at some guy that wasn’t him and a certain feeling that could only be deemed as jealousy sat in the pit of his stomach.

Steve cleared his throat, bringing your attention back to him and then he tossed the ball to you. “Your turn.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The first round of HORSE was started and finished barely fifteen minutes later, quickly ending with Steve winning. Even though you could tell that he was going very easy on you and trying to let you win, you still somehow managed to lose.

“This loss feels so much more embarrassing knowing that you were trying to let me win,” You had said after you missed your shot and got an “E.”

“I wasn’t,” Steve told you with a shake of his head and you only gave him a look that said you didn’t believe him.

You reached down to grab the ball and stop it from rolling away, but you somehow tripped over nothing but your own feet and landed hard on the ground.

You yelped as you collided with the concrete. Luckily, you thought fast enough to put your hands out so that you didn’t completely faceplant. “Ouch. Shit.”

Steve was by your side in an instant and started helping you up. “Are you okay?”

You could only shrug in response to his question at first as you stood up with the help of his hand on your arm.

“Okay, just kidding, that moment was a lot more embarrassing than losing the game,” You told him. When you looked down and saw the deep scrape on your knee and the blood already starting to rise from the wound, you immediately had to look away from it. “I put the first aid kit in the backseat.”

“What? You actually brought it? I thought you were joking,” Steve said, keeping an arm around you as he helped you walk over to the car and opened the passenger side door so that you could sit down.

“Of course, I wasn’t joking. It felt inevitable that something like this would happen,” You said as you sat sideways in the passenger seat so that your feet were on the ground, and then you grabbed a couple napkins from the glove compartment to place it on your knee and help stop the bleeding. “Honestly, I’m surprised this didn’t happen in the first five minutes.”

Steve grabbed the first aid kit before kneeling down in front of you and you looked at the four guys down at the end of the court. They were playing a two against two game and the one that smiled at you earlier just made a shot at the three-point line.

You stopped looking at him and instead focused on the top of Steve’s head. “Ugh, I can’t believe I just fell in front of that cute guy.”

“Maybe he didn’t even see,” Steve mumbled with a quick shrug.

“I doubt that,” You said and then sighed. “These last few weeks have been very humbling. First, things immediately going downhill with Jamie, and now this.”

Steve didn’t know how things had ended with Jamie, you had yet to tell him the exact reasoning, but selfishly he had been glad that they did. Although he couldn’t find it in him to tell you the truth just yet, the thought of now having to see you with anyone else annoyed him.

You tapped his shoulder so that he would look up at you. “It would be a bad idea if I went up to him and asked for his number, right?”

“Yeah, it would,” Steve answered, pulling his eyes away from yours and focusing on grabbing something from the first aid kit instead. His words were a lie, for the most part— he personally would’ve thought it was cute if a girl did that to him. He immediately felt like shit for lying to you, but not enough to go back on what he said.

You nodded at his response. “Okay.”

You kept your eyes away from what Steve was doing as he cleaned up your knee, looking up at the sky instead until he was done and placing the large band-aid over it.

“Thanks,” You said and smiled at him.

He looked up at you for a brief moment before standing up and simply giving you a small nod. He went over to grab the basketball, which had rolled into the grass, and then put it in the backseat.

The drive back to the apartment was quiet and it felt more like Steve’s doing than yours. He suddenly seemed distant, maybe even mad at you, and the abrupt shift felt so odd.

You looked over at him. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

It felt pretty clear that he wasn’t fine, though. You could tell that he was annoyed at you for reasons that you couldn’t decipher and that only made you annoyed as well. You didn’t even play with the radio during the drive back to the apartment, you just sat there with your arms folded across your chest as you stared out the window.

You wondered if the prevailing silence bothered him as much as it bothered you, but then that question didn’t even matter because he was pulling into the parking lot of the apartment building and parking in the usual open spot next to your car, and you were unbuckling your seatbelt.

“What happened with you and Jamie?” Steve asked before you could open the door and step out of his car. “You never really talked about it.”

The abruptness of the question surprised you; and it wasn’t even the question itself that was the surprising part, it was more so the timing of it. Was that why he decided to randomly get mad at you? Because you never told him what happened on that dumb date? And why the hell would it even matter at this point?

You weren’t even entirely sure why you hadn’t told Steve the full extent of what happened. When you came back from the date that night, you only said that things had gone badly.

You turned to look at Steve. “He didn’t like you.”

His eyebrows furrowed at that. “What?”

“Well, not you necessarily, but us; our friendship,” You said, looking down at your band-aid-covered knee. “When me and him went on the date, he asked about what my emergency was and why I had to cancel the date the first time, and I told him about your accidental phone call and you being drunk at the bar and me having to go get you, and he didn’t see that as much of an emergency; especially since you had wanted Eddie to pick you up. He thought it was a little weird how easily I canceled plans to go do something for you, and the whole night kind of shifted awkwardly from there.”

You remembered that entire conversation perfectly, and you honestly couldn’t even get that annoyed with Jamie when he said any of that because you didn’t think that your priorities would ever be able to change. Steve would probably always be at the top of your unwritten list, and you had come to the conclusion that whoever else wanted to be in your life would just have to deal with that.

“Oh.”

You looked at him curiously. “What?”

“Nothing,” Steve shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

Hearing him say that only confused you. “Sorry for what?”

He was quiet for a long moment before sighing. “I don’t know…”

“Is that why you were mad at me just now? Because I didn’t tell you what happened on the date?”

“No, I don’t even know why I brought it up right now, I was just curious,” He said with a shrug before meeting your gaze. “And I’m not mad at you for anything. I promise.”

“Okay…” You said as you found one of his hands and gave it a light squeeze. “So, what’s up with you? Clearly, something’s wrong, right? Is it something with your parents?”

“No, nothing with them,” He responded, which was an answer that only confused you more. It looked like there were a thousand things going through his head right then, and you couldn’t seem to decipher any of it, which felt foreign to you— you were so used to reading him like a book. “It’s just… it’s kind of hard to explain right now.”

If it really had nothing to do with his parents, you were unsure what else it could be and what else would be difficult to talk to you about. In your head, there wasn’t supposed to be anything that you couldn’t talk to each other about; you were best friends for a reason. It was easy to joke around and playfully banter with one another, but it had also always been easy to have the types of deep and honest conversations that neither of you would ever have with anyone else.

You decided not to push him further in this moment, though. Whatever was going on with him, you knew that he’d tell you eventually.

“It’s okay. Tell me whenever you want to,” You said softly and then decided to say your next words jokingly to shift the mood a bit. “But stop being weird about whatever it is, or I will think that you hate me or something.”

Steve only shook his head at your words at first. “I could never hate you.”

Maybe that was when you should’ve seen it, when you should’ve realized how he felt about you. There was something about the way he said his short statement— so certainly, so truthfully— that should’ve made you connect all of the dots. But, that was the last possible thing on your mind. You would’ve thought that he wanted to move out of the apartment for some random reason before you even considered thinking that he had any sort of romantic feelings toward you. You two had been friends for forever so that just didn’t sound like a plausible thought.

Therefore, instead of any sort of “aha!” moment hitting you right then, you smiled playfully at Steve and said, “Good.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #stranger things imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington series

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ajortga · 4 months

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she's different

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

based off request! it was late here, but wanted to post this for you, trying to work on another request and once that's done i'll take other ones, requests are currently closed, but check my masterlist and i'll open it soon once i finish! i found this so so funny, i hope this met your thoughts.

jenna ortega x fem!r request pls

where aliyah asks jenna for food/ to buy her food in the middle of the night cus shes hungry and jenna says no. But when r asks jenna for food in the middle of the night jenna immediately orders r food leaving aliyah bewildered

Jenna had her headphones on, it was almost 1AM in her household, but Jenna had insomnia at a young age, so it was normal for her.

She was reading a book while everyone was asleep since she was visiting, you had gotten it for her and the first two pages in, she was infested.

Half-way done meant that her nose was sticking through it almost every second they saw her.

They’d call her name? No response, they would have to physically fight the book out of her hand till she noticed.

She was frantically reading, retaining every piece of info from the book as it got closer to the answer of the plot twist.

Honestly, her whole family found it amusing when Jenna found a book that she enjoyed. She would seriously skip lunch and stay up till sunrise to finish the book.

The pages flipped and flopped, it was a bit hectic, at this point her page flipping was a portable fan.

Then, someone opened the door, making a small squeak from the opening, pulling the bed sheets off of Jenna.

Her sister Aliyah closed the door, sitting down on her bed, “Thank lord you're awake. Finally that book came to some good use.”

Jenna almost groaned as Aliyah snatched the book from her, pulling the blanket back on top of her. “Aliyah! Oh my god I was so close to figuring out who-”

“Tell me later, right now, I’m having the strongest feeling in my entire life, I never ever felt this way before. It’s like-”

Jenna took a nearby pillow and threw it on Aliyah’s head, “Oh my god! Just tell me and let’s get this over with! You just took my book right before the best part! Give me that back!”

“I need you to get me food. I’m witnessing the most atrocious food craving.. Hear me out, french fries. Not just any french fries, they have to be curly, with that animal style sauce. It’s simple.” Aliyah points to the smaller brunette, “You’re awake,” then points to herself, “And I’m broke, what does that make? Annual midnight cravings. Come on! Please!”

Jenna was annoyed, did her sister just take her most precious treasure, for fries? Hell no. Maybe in the morning, but she would not be driving out in the dark for some fries.

“Give me my book!” She hissed, trying to grab the book from Aliyah’s stretching hand.

“Then GET me my fries!”

“It’s 1AM! I’m not getting you any fries, ask like.. Markus to give it to you in the afternoon.”

“If I wanted it in the afternoon I would’ve! But I’m hungry! I won’t give you your book if you won’t get me my fries!”

At this point the two were rolling on the bed.

“Jenna, remember I gave you 10 dollars to buy food! This is you paying me back!”

“You never gave me 10 dollars for food! What are you talking about?” Jenna said as sharply, but quietly as she could.

“You bought 2 packs of kiwi candy, raspberries, and the worst ramen brand you could have chosen!”

“That was what the fuck? That was 3 years ago! And I didn't know that they were full on gluten free!”

The bed was shaking as Jenna tried getting the book out of Aliyah’s hand, it was so loud but so quiet at the same time.

A small squeak was heard, your eyes peeking through the door.

You came in, rubbing your eyes, making your girlfriend and her sister freeze and stare at you.

You looked at them for a moment, opening your eyes in confusion, “What?” You mumbled, not aware of what was going on.

Jenna stopped attacking Aliyah immediately as she walked over to you, cupping your tired pink cheeks, “Baby, it’s 1:24AM in the morning? Why are you awake?” Jenna whispered softly.

You were tired, Jenna’s focus was on you, and you can make out Aliyah’s figure searching their shared room for Jenna’s wallet around the room, searching in drawers, murmuring how goo goo ga ga Jenna was over you as soon as she sees you.

You yawned, leaning into her embrace, “I woke up and I didn’t feel you next to me, then I heard your voice and the wall practically fluttering. Also I woke up with a really nice craving, curly fries with animal style sauce, oh and some nice peach tea from that one super market we always go to! Oh, oh! Also those watermelon sour patch kids!”

Your voice was so silly and drowsy when you were half awake.

Aliyah snapped her head towards you, “Curly fries?”

Before anything could even move, Jenna was gone and came back 5 seconds later with everything you wanted. She shushed you and sat you down on her bed as she brought you everything you wanted, kissing your forehead as you rubbed your eyes.

Aliyah’s mouth was hung open as she stared at her sister, “Oh. I see how it is, so your girlfriend gets any food she wants at any time. But your amazing, beautiful, gorgeous, sweet sister can’t get her fries? I’m hungry!”

Jenna wasn’t listening, feeding you fries as she patted your hair and stroked it, treating you like a princess.

“I still have your book!”

“You can keep that for now,” she murmured, turning to you as she coaxed you with kisses on your head, “You can eat and tell me if you need anything more.”

“This isn’t fair!” Aliyah cried.

Of course, you gave Aliyah basically all the fries after eating like, 9 because we love her and she is so patootie. She was crunching them as she watched Jenna cuddle you to sleep, rolling her eyes and munching on them.

"You're lucky you had curly fries." Aliyah scoffed playfully, snapping a photo of you two and turning off the lights as she left the room, the small munches of her fries being heard.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #vada cavell x reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #tara carpenter x you #vada cavell x y/n

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

Text

The Farmer's Daughter 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"We can't thank you enough," your mother clasps her hands together, "are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner?"

"I gotta get back," Walter huffs, hooking his thumbs in his jeans pockets, "but I'll be back in the morning."

"You will?" You mom bats her lashes in surprise as you glance over from peeling potatoes.

"Yep," he nods as he looks around, meeting your gaze briefly before turning his attention back to your mother, "gonna help the kid with planting."

"What? You can't-- Walter, we... we could never pay you back," she fans herself.

"I'm not asking for anything," he shrugs, "I kinda owe Pat. He's always been good to me."

"Oh my gosh, and he will appreciate it so much," she touches her cheeks as her voice cracks, "we really can't afford to turn away help but you will be stayin' for dinner. It's the least we can do."

"Yes, ma'am," he answers, "but you don't work yourself too hard. You gotta make sure to get Pat back on his feet before you worry about me."

"Oh," she sniffles and dabs her nose with her knuckle, "I'm so sorry, it's been such a difficult week."

"Ma," you come around and offer her a paper towel from the role, your own eyes stinging.

"Anyways, I...I'll go now," Walter says stringently.

"Thank you," you eke out as you hug your mother and she buries her face in your shoulder.

He nods at you as he passes, continuing into the hallway. You rock your mother and crane to watch him go, his broad shoulders stretching the cotton henley. He peeks into the front room as he stops to get his boots on, staring in at your dad, still blank in his recliner.

You tear your eyes away as your mom pulls back and wipes her cheeks, "uh, I'm a mess."

"It's alright, ma," you assure.

"I hope so," she murmurs as her throat tightens, "I really do."

🌾

As promised, Walter returns early the next morning. You're in the kitchen putting on a pot of coffee as you hear his truck. You leave the percolator to boil as you sweep down the hall, yawning into the crook of your elbow as you near the front door.

You open in and stand inside the screen, watching his headlights fade as he shuts off the engine. He steps out, grabbing a beaten metal lunch pail out behind him. It hangs from a thick leather strap; you wonder if he takes it down to the mill for his shifts.

"Morning," he comes up the steps, "Timothy up?"

"He's getting there," you say evasively, "you want some coffee?"

"Brought my own," he shows the thermos strapped to the top of the lunch pail.

"Hm, well, why don't you come in while you wait? Tim will be up soon, I'm sure."

"I don't mind," he says.

"I hate to leave you out here," you insist, "ma's upstairs with dad," you explain, "pretty quiet in here. Not used to that."

"Mm," he grumbles and bows his head. He grabs the screen door as he steps forward, catching it as you retreat ahead of him.

He enters and you scurry back to the kitchen as you hear the percolator thrumming, the lid shaking noisily. You take out a cup for yourself and one for Timothy. Walter enters and you turn to him as he looks around placidly.

"You're right. It's quiet," he agrees.

You give a shaky smile and go to the fridge. You take out the packet of bacon wrapped in brown paper and put it on the counter.

"I'm making breakfast. Ma and dad will be hungry. You like bacon or sausage?" You ask.

He considers you. You face him, awaiting his answer. He watches you, his expression hard to read.

"You don't have to worry about me," he states.

"I'm not worried, I'm just... offering," you placate.

His blue eyes make you nervous as they bore into you. Like everything else he does, he watches you with intent. What it is, you don't know.

He hums and nods, as if agreeing with something you said. You arch a brow curiously as he tilts his head and drops his eyes to the counter. He steps up to the island and puts his pail down.

"I'll do the eggs," he says.

"Oh, please, sir--"

"Walt," he intones.

"Walt, sorry," you squirm. There's something different about him. He's just as steely as ever but much more... there. You always felt like he didn't see you before.

"No sorries," he waves you off and goes to the fridge, opening the door and searching until he sees the eggs. "You seem like the sunny side up type."

"I do?" You wonder as he plucks out eggs one at a time.

"I think so," he says softly, a grit in his throat.

"Hm," you scrunch your lips up, "I don't mind it. I usually have french toast. That's how I liked my eggs."

"Not really eggs..."

"There's eggs on the bread," you argue, "and cinnamon, and a little icing sugar."

He scoffs and his cheek dimples. It's as close to a smile as you've ever seen from him. He places the eggs on the counter before he goes back for more.

"What about you? How do you like your eggs?" You ask before the tension can grow stifling.

"I take two hard-boiled eggs to work. A slice of rye, carrots, cashews, and dried berries. For lunch, I have ham and cheese. Most days, I miss lunch. Too busy."

He speaks matter-of-factly. He does seem like a man of routine. You never thought very much about what he did beyond his visits, but it makes sense.

"I usually forget lunch too," you grin, "but I make up for it at dinner."

He snorts again, setting down another handful of eggs. "I'll do some scrambled," he rolls one aside on its own, "and some french toast for you."

"Oh, M-Walt," you stammer, "that's--"

"I like to keep busy. Keeps me focused," he says sternly.

"Oh, uh, okay," you relent, "I'll... go get Timothy," you look at the clock, "he said he'd be up ten minutes ago."

"His own fault if he doesn't have time to eat," Walter tuts. "Grown man."

"Sure is," you agree as you breeze around the counter, "be right back."

You get to the door before he responds, "I'll be here, sweetheart."

You're in the hall before you register what he said. You falter and stop at the bottom step before you can ascend the stairs. You look back to the kitchen, staring at Walter's shoulders as he cracks eggs into a bowl.

Sweetheart... you don't think you've ever heard a morsel of affection from the man. He didn't even laugh at your father's jokes. Well, there is a lot going on. He's just being nice because your dad's sick.

#series #au #drabble #the farmer's daughter #backwoods au #walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #night hunter

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hermitscratch · 1 month

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Joel & Etho - 21, for the writing ? :3

Send me a pairing + a number! || Accepting

21. A kiss to shut them up, Joel/Etho, 957 words

[ Inspired in part by this lovely artwork by @plumadot ! ]

"So I've got a theory," Joel started.

It was a nice day; temperate in a way that heralded the approaching warm season. A lot of hermits were taking advantage of it to check the things off their to-do lists that weren't easily done in cold or wet weather. Etho had broken off from the others for just that purpose, but as soon as he mentioned needing coral, Joel invited himself along.

Which meant a return to form in the shape of them, once again, sharing a boat.

"Do I have to listen to your theory?" Etho asked. The answer didn't matter much when he was a captive audience, but their conversations up until this point had been general, casual nonsense. How they spent their morning, how they liked their steak cooked, what ore they'd most be willing to eat. Time killers at worst, amusement at best.

Joel scoffed. "Don't act like you don't want to know what I'm thinking," Etho felt an elbow land against his ribs without any real force. It might have been rougher, if they weren't currently faced away from each other. Joel liked watching the wake the boat left behind, so they were pressed back-to-back. "It's about your obsession."

"My obsession? Don't you mean yours?" He retorted. Joel snorted, and Etho could imagine the smug grin that'd be accompanying it.

"This projection is getting embarrassing, Etho," Joel said with thinly veiled glee.

Etho rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Just tell me about your theory," He said through a chuckle.

From behind him, Joel wiggled like he was trying to look over his shoulder. The boat rocked hard to the left, and Joel stilled before crowing, "I knew you wanted to know!"

Etho stopped rowing to peer over the boat's edge. The ocean here was deep, illuminated only faintly by magma pockets and the occasional rogue glow squid. They'd made a lot of headway, but there was still a ways to go to reach an untouched reef. "I wonder if I could swim back to shore from here..."

"I'll push you overboard myself if you don't let me get a blummin' word out," Joel griped, even as he fisted a hand in the back of Etho's shirt. It wouldn't do much if Etho decided to move, but the idea that Joel might want him to stay was more than enough for Etho to do so.

Not that Etho would ever tell him that; his ex-soulmate's ego was big enough.

"You're the one stopping, though?" Etho answered, rebalancing the boat and adjusting the oars to continue rowing. Joel's inhale was audible, and before he could argue, Etho urged, "Let's hear your theory."

Joel crossed his arms with a huff. Etho grinned. Joel was probably pouting and everything. "D'you remember what Gem said this morning?"

"Hmm," Etho had to think the question through. They'd been hanging out with Gem, Impulse, and Scar that morning, a lot of things were said. "Mmmmaybe?"

After a few minutes of fruitless sifting through snippets of conversation that Joel might have found noteworthy, he threw Etho a bone. "When we were arguing about who built a better cherry tree, still me by the way, she said-"

Ah. "'Just kiss already', or something?" Etho offered.

Joel clapped once, "Exactly."

Etho laughed, pitching his voice up in a mockery of Joel's, "Oh no, I'm not obsessed, I'm just chasing him making smoochy sounds and thinking a lot about Gem telling us to kiss-"

"That first thing was literally your fault!" Joel argued, "And I'm not thinking about it, alright? There's nothing to think about, it's just a thing that is!"

"What is?"

Joel seemed to shrink, curling forward so their backs were no longer touching. "If we kissed, the world would sorta collapse, wouldn't it?"

Etho stopped so abruptly that he almost dropped an oar. What? "Uh. No?"

"Of course you'd say so, it's stupid how bad you wanna kiss me," Joel scoffed. The turn in conversation was so jarring that Etho didn't even argue the point about wanting to kiss Joel. "But the stir it'd cause would be massive. Gem would explode. Bdubs would probably explode, maybe Grian? Scar and Skizz, definitely, we'd never hear the end of it."

Etho locked the oars and turned around in his seat. If Joel noticed, he gave no indication, plowing relentlessly forward as if he'd realized there was no going back now that he'd started. Etho recognized that habit from their time together in Double Life- an anxious Joel with no other outlet would ramble himself breathless.

"Your mask as well," Joel continued, "Nobody's seen you without it-"

Etho tugged his mask down.

"-that's probably grounds for server obliteration in itself-"

He put a hand on Joel's shoulder.

"-if the first time anybody saw your face was for a kiss like that, then-"

He turned Joel to face him.

And before Joel could say another word, Etho kissed him.

Silence. Bliss. Etho's lips were dry from the mask, and he kept the press of them soft until he felt Joel's stiff body melt, meeting Etho's lean halfway. He tilted his head, and he could feel the flutter of long lashes against his face as Joel's eyes shut. The world kept turning, and Etho let it, stealing a moment just for them.

It only ended when Etho pulled away, leaving a dazed Joel to process what had just happened. Etho didn't bother putting his mask back up when he grinned. "Still alive?"

"Wh- y-?" Joel floundered. Etho chuckled, and Joel scowled, even as a dusty blush painted his cheeks pink. Even as he turned to face Etho properly, dropping his head against Etho's shoulder. Even as Etho felt lips against his racing pulse.

"Oh, shut up, Etho."

#SmallEtho #SmallishBeans #EthosLab #Hermitshipping #Hermitcraft #Hermitfic #MCYT #Asks #Anonymous #Etho #Joel #Astral Library #My Writing #Pinto Don't Look #This one really fought me and I'm not sure why

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norrisleclercf1 · 8 months

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Broken Hearts and Duct Tape

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader x Lando Norris

Part 7 of Our Boy Series

Rating: PG-13

Words: 2.3K

Warnings: Angst, Anxiety, Therapy, Slight fluff, etc.

Our Boy Series / Previous: Letter 1 / Next: Letter 2

Synopsis: When a current fight brings up the memories of an old fight, Lando and Charles remember a dark time in their relationship

It's the quiet mornings that have Charles's skin crawling. He's not used to it. The silence currently filling his home is not his true home, though. If you asked him 10, maybe 15 years ago, he'd say home was Monaco and Italy. Now? It's where ever his family is. Home is where Cecile and Elijah fight and wreak havoc. It's where he can find you curled up reading or Lando outside in the garage working on his cars.

This wasn't his home. It's far too quiet. He hated it. Charles wanted nothing more than to whip his mug at a wall and scream his anger, but he couldn't. "Did you get any sleep?" Charles's back goes rigid. Lando has not spoken to him since he kicked you out of the Monaco home. "Yeah, Elijah curled into me last night." His voice muffled by the mug. "Cecile finally fell asleep," Lando murmured, leaning against the island, far from Charles.

"Okay, let's get this over with." Charles slams his mug down, a small crack forming at the bottom. "You're pissed I kicked her out." Lando looks up, his curls still there but slightly lined with age. They were standing in the same kitchen, the exact spots they did 10 years ago. But this time, it was Charles on the other end. "Of course I am," Lando hisses, pushing off the counter. "You kicked our fucking wife out! Our wife, the mother of our children, I'm more than pissed. I want to rip your fucking head off." "Don't raise your voice. The kids are sleeping." Charles hushes, but Lando shakes his head.

"Don't! Don't you dare tell me not to raise my voice? Charles, what the fuck were you thinking? We have always discussed this together. Why didn't you wait for me to come home?" Lando choked on the words, shaking his head to stop the emotions from bubbling up. "The moment she stepped through those doors, I don't know. All I could see was her 19-year-old self and thinking of all the lies she's told us, me. I gave her everything, and she," Staring down at his mug, he loved this mug.

It was a Father's Day gift you got him. Still, fresh into the relationship and with a 3-month-old, you just bought it. You gave it to him as a joke, but he cried slightly. "She lied," He whispers, letting go of the mug. "Charles, she was hurt! SHE WAS 19!" Lando roars. "Daddy?" Charles and Lando whip their head to the stairs, Elijah and Cecile staring at them with fear and anxiety. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Lando whispers, reaching out for Cecile, yet Elijah pulls Cecile back.

"Cece, go upstairs to my room. Yeah, we can talk in a few." Elijah whispers. His sister doesn't answer, glaring at him as she walks up the stairs. "We'll, we'll be upstairs," Elijah whispers, taking off. "10 years ago, that's how long it's been," Lando whispers. Charles flinches, staring at the kitchen door, the wood still damaged from that night. "You're doing the same thing to her like you did to me," "That's not the fucking same. Never, ever compare these two situations again." Lando glares at Charles, scuffing.

"Please, you kicked me out the same way you kicked her out." "YOU CAME HOME DRUNK! Fucking Christ Lando, you," "No, no, I know exactly what happened that night," Lando whispers, "You don't have to remind me."

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10 years ago

"He's still not home?" You feel like crying, holding your 1 year old sick with a horrible fever. "No, I don't know where he is," Charles whispers, pulling you in as you bounce, Cecile screaming her head off. "Find him, Charles, please." You beg, trying to calm down Cecile. "Okay, I'll be back." He whispers, kissing your forehead.

Walking down the hall, he stops, pushing Elijah's door open, smiling when he sees his 6-year-old boy sleeping. Holding his teddy bear dressed as Lando. Closing the door, he flicks on the stairs light, freezing when he hears the rattling of the kitchen back door. Bending down, he grabs the bat. He raises it but stops seeing the familiar bright orange and curls tumble into the kitchen.

"Alright, here we are." "Carlos?" Hitting the light switch, Charles's teammate Carlos and his husband disheveled state. "Hey, Charles. Lando, um," "Go home, Carlos," Carlos cleared his throat. As Carlos pats his friend's back, Lando hunches over the kitchen island and leaves. "Where the fuck have you been?" "Hav, ugh, having fun." Lando slurs, the rage in Charles building more. "That's it." Charles yanks open the fridge door, grabbing an ice-cold water. Cracking the lid off, he moves, pouring it all over Lando.

"Oh god! What the fuck?" Lando yells, now sober enough to remember this. "You're a mess, acting like you're a child." Charles spits, tossing the empty bottle into the sink. "Screw you. I was having fun, Charles." Lando takes a deep breath, trying to stop the nausea. "Y/n and I have been calling you for hours, Lando. Cecile is sick." Lando's head snaps up. "What? Is she okay?" Lando moves to go upstairs, but Charles steps in front of him.

"What are you doing? Get out of my way." "No, you're drunk." Charles pushes him back, not hard, just to get him back up. "You smell of a club, liquor, and probably cheap ass," "I wasn't with anyone else. Just Carlos." Lando whispers. "I don't care! We have children, Lando. A wife, in case you forgot, a fucking husband as well." Holding up his hand, Charles shows Lando the ring on his finger. "I didn't forget, but maybe I don't want to be trapped."

Stepping back, Charles feels like the ground has swallowed him whole. "Trapped? Is that what we are to you? A cage?" Charles's chest starts to heave up and down. His anxiety ramping up more now. This can't happen now. Charles can't have an anxiety attack now. "No, I didn't mean it like that," Lando whispers, reaching for Charles. Lando always knew when Charles got anxious, holding his hand always grounded his husband.

"Don't," Charles pulls his hands out of reach. "For almost 6 months now, you've been partying, drinking, god knows what else. Also, you don't talk to me anymore, only Carlos." Charles can't help the venom that drips off of Carlos's name when he says it. "Charles, I love you and Y/n. Please, can we not do this tonight?" Lando asks, stepping to the side to go upstairs, but Charles shoves him back.

"Are you cheating on us?" This was colder than the water, sobering Lando fully now. "No." Charles stares at Lando. This was not the man he fell in love with. "You're hiding something from me, from us. Yet, Carlos seems to know what it is." "Charles, don't do this. Not tonight. Cecile is sick." "No, we're doing this now. What are you hiding?" Charles pushes, Lando starting to grow annoyed. "GOD DAMMIT! Mercedes offered me a seat, OKAY. And I took it without a second thought. I took the fucking seat. And right now, I hate myself because I said yes without even thinking of you, the babies, or our wife!" Lando roars, Charles's eyes wide.

"When?" Charles whispers, looking down at his feet. "What?" Lando sighs, pulling on those curls, a sign he was stressed. "When did this happen? Because I remember we always said we'd decide this together, and you didn't even think about us? Do you even want to be married to us? You spend all your nights away drinking and come home lying, saying you've been with the McLaren team and all went for drinks. But you're not. You're lying." Lando looks away, unable to look Charles in the face.

"I regret it, Charles. God, I know I shouldn't have said yes. But this is Mercedes." "No, no, you don't get to do that. You'll have to move. Go back home to London. Did you even think about me? My family, our family is here. This is where we decided to raise the kids. And now you're saying, fuck all of that, I rather have a Mercedes seat." "You're telling me you wouldn't have done the same thing?" Lando's anger grows with each ticking minute.

"NO! Because I love our family! I value you and Y/n, but you clearly don't. Like you said, we're a fucking cage keeping you locked down. So you know what," Charles laughs, grabbing his ring. "No, no, don't, Charles, please. I'm so sorry." Lando holds Charles's hand, stopping his husband. "Don't take off your ring, not the one I gave you, please. I love you." "Clearly not, because right now, I regret marrying you." Charles gasps, his world spinning as his anxiety and fears grow too much for him to handle.

"You don't mean that." Lando whimpers, Charles shoving his hand off. "I do! What you've done, I mean, I get it. But Lando, you have a family. How could you do this?" Charles laughs, playing with the ring on his finger. "Selfish, I was being selfish. Please just don't do this." Lando begs, ready to drop to his knees. "Get out. I want you out of this house." Charles whispers. Lando drops his head, tears falling from both men as Charles bolts up the stairs. The only signal that Lando left was the slamming of the door and wood splintering everywhere the following day.

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"Every time I fuck up, I worry you'll kick me out again. Take off your ring again, and you," Lando takes a deep breath. "Have you been attending your therapy sessions?" Charles's jaw ticks. He hasn't. "Charles, you haven't been going, have you? Baby, you know you can't mess them." Charles stares at his mug, all the emotions coming up. "When I first went, you wanna know what the Doc said?" "What?" "That when I'm faced with abandonment, I lash out; I did it again." Charles laughs. It's all he can do to stop himself from crying.

"Charles, call your therapist," Lando whispers, sliding his phone over. "I can't because the only number I want to call is her." He can't hold it anymore as his lips wobble, the sob breaking. "Charlie." Lando rushes over as Charles slides to the floor, Lando holding him. "What have I done? I broke our family." Charles sobs, Lando pulling him into him. His arms are wrapped tight as Charles hides in his husband's chest. "I hurt you, I hurt Y/n. I'm the reason, I'm the," "Shhhh, it's okay. You're okay." Lando whispers.

"It's all in the past. It all worked out. Look at us, Charles. We have two gorgeous children living here in Monaco and London. We did it. We can do it again." Charles's chest rattles as he sucks in a breath. "I said such awful things to her. I'll never blame her if she doesn't come back." "She'll come back, but we'll get our asses kicked." Charles laughs, Lando, joining him.

"Dad? Pa?" Sniffling, Charles stands up, wiping his eyes and nose quickly. "Yea," His voice cracks. Lando giggles as Charles smacks him. "Yeah, Ducky?" Elijah steps out from the stairs slowly, and Charles hates that when he looks at Elijah, now he can see Nico. But Charles shakes it off because Elijah has Charles's drive, Lando's humor, and stubbornness.

"Um, Mama, she didn't want me to tell you, but Mama left me something." Holding out his arm, Lando welcomes Elijah into his side. "What did she leave you?" Lando asks, kissing Elijah's temple. "Before that, um," Elijah pulls back, fiddling with his fingers.

"You're my fathers. You raised me. Pa, you're the one who started to call me Ducky first. It's a stupid nickname from a stupid duck towel I loved as a kid. Dad, you shaped me to be the driver I am today, and I'll never say thank you enough. Pa, you taught me the piano, and that's our thing. Dad, you're always there when I'm sick, even breaking me out of school to go Karting." Elijah sighs, tears all gone.

"Nico did none of that. He wasn't there. And Mama never knew why he truly left, but that doesn't matter. Not to me. I had two wonderful fathers. I don't need a third, just you two." Lando smiles, pulling Elijah into a hug. "You're grounded," "Lando," Charles sighs. "No, he is. He ran off into Monaco during a GP weekend. Grounded, 3 weeks. No phone, gaming, or karting. Unless it's for official business. You ever do something like that again, and your ass is fried. Got me." Elijah smiles, nodding in agreement.

"That's fine," "Now, what is it your mother left you?" Charles asks, looking at his mug and seeing a crack. "Damn, your mug is cracked, Pa." Elijah mumbles, grabbing the mug, "It's fine, nothing duct tape can't fix." Charles grabs it back, cradling it almost. "Right," Taking a breath, Elijah pulls out a stained envelope with your name written. "She said that Nico left a letter for her at their old apartment. She never opened it, and I want you two here with me when I read it." Elijah stares down at Nico's handwriting, wondering what might be there.

"Are you sure? I'm sure it's private." Charles asks, standing at his son's other side. "Yeah, I want my parents here to discover why he left. I don't know how I'll react, and honestly, I think you two need answers as well." Charles looks up at his husband, grabbing his hand and kissing the ring he gave Lando. "Open it. Let's find out why the bastard left." "Dad," "Lando." Lando just smirks, shrugging his shoulders.

"Okay, well," Elijah opens it, the paper crinkling as he pulls the letter out and starts to read.

"Ducky, don't be alarmed at the empty apartment. I'm coming back,"

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xxsabitoxx · 7 months

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Showering / Kinktober Side Quest 3… kinda

Aged up! Megumi x AFAB Reader

Warnings: Fluff with intimate moments / not really sexual but ya know… still fun :)

You shower with your boyfriend quite regularly. Especially after you return bloody and worn from missions. Whether it's a mission only one of you went on or a mission you shared, it doesn't matter how tired you both are, you're climbing into that shower together to take care of each other.

"Turn around." Megumi's voice is thick with exhaustion, motioning you to spin so your back faces him. You do as you're told, forehead pressed to the cold tile wall as Megumi starts to gingerly scrub your bloodied back. "I'll put a salve on it when we're done. It's not too bad, but it will be irritating if I don't wrap it." This time, you had taken the brunt of the damage.

Megumi hated it, to say the least.

“Can’t it wait for morning?” You mumble, eyes closed as you focus on how good it feels when he passes the soft cloth over your bruised shoulders. “No.” And his tone his final, no room for any retaliation. You always put up a fight, it got on his nerves most of the time but… he always won.

“Fine” you whined, you pressed your cheek into the cool tile now, your face feeling warm from a mix of the steam and Megumi’s gentle touch. His fingers were delicate as they moved lower.

Megumi’s hands are nimble, scrubbing your lower back with such tenderness it only made your face feel warmer. Intimacy like this with your typically cold and stoic boyfriend always sent your heart into a flurry. You knew him long enough to know he had this side, a side reserved only for you.

But that didn’t make you any less flustered, it never ceased to give you butterflies. That was another thing you utterly adored about him, despite being together for years at this point, your heart still skipped a beat when you saw him.

“Ouch.” You hissed, he was pressing the warm cloth over a harsh scrape on your hip. “Sorry.” His tone was slightly strained, he couldn’t stand seeing you in pain. Even on days where you had headaches or just weren’t feeling great, it made his chest tight. He never wanted you to feel these things, even if they were naturally occurring. You always teased him for it.

“…s’okay Meg.” You sighed as he finished up on that one area. “I’m almost done, I swear.” He sighed, dropping to a crouch to deal with the damage that had even effected your right ass cheek. “Poor baby.” He murmured as he used the cloth to gentle clean the skin. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. Of all places to get injured, your ass wasn’t ideal.

“Don’t make me blush, Gumi.” You drawled the rest of his name, always alternating between the two nicknames but rarely saying his full name. “Sorry.” He teased, easing the stress in your heart as his tone turned a little light. When he was done, he placed a gentle kiss on the small of your back, trying not to smirk when you visibly shivered. "Can't help it."

You pushed off of the tile, turning as Megumi stood to his full height once more. You wasted no time wrapping your arms around him, pressing your face into his wet chest. “We still need to clean up.” He murmured softly as he pressed a kiss on the crown of your head. “We already did.” You mumble back, eyes closed as you listened to the steady thump of his heart.

“I cleaned your cuts and scrapes, we still need to clean your body.” Megumi sighed, letting his hands rest on your hips because he didn’t want to hurt your already wounded backside. "Can we just stay like this for a bit?" you knew his answer, maybe that was why you hugged him a little harder. "No, because you'll fall asleep standing if we do."

You sighed, grumbling softly as you pulled away from him to grab your body wash. "Stop pouting." Megumi's tone was teasing, his pretty eyes lidded with exhaustion. He still needed to bandage your back, which was the only thing keeping him from falling asleep along with you. "No" you mumbled, pouring the liquid out to begin gingerly scrubbing your sore body.

This angry act stood no chance against Megumi's soft "Can you wash me?". You sighed, turning to him with a pout still present on your lips. "Of course, I can, Gumi." He smiled, pulling your soapy body close to his as you started to scrub his arms. "Can't really wash you when you hold me like this, Gumi." there was a hint of laughter in your tone, one that made Megumi hold you a little tighter. "You're doing just fine."

Green eyes locked on your hand, watching your fingers massage his skin until suds appear. "Oh, whatever." You worked diligently, trying to ignore the way your back burned as the hot water ran over your marred skin. It took longer than necessary, but you were turning off the water and stepping out of the shower finally.

Megumi's hands still held a tenderness as he used a towel to slowly pat your back dry, uttering soft apologies when he heard your breathing stutter. "you can lay on the bed and I'll patch you up." You nodded, eyes closed as you walked from the bathroom to your bedroom. You managed to get a pair of underwear out of your dresser before flopping onto your plush mattress to wait for Megumi.

He entered the room a few minutes later, setting the medical supplies on your nightstand before going to get underwear and pajamas. No words were spoken, mostly because Megumi assumed you were passed out by now. You were close to it at that point, inhaling the comforting scent of your blankets as the bed dipped.

He worked with care, smiling when you shuddered in relief as the healing salve was spread on your broken skin. Despite the ache in his bones, his body begging him to sleep, he didn't rush a single step of the first aid process. He was comforted by your gentle breathing as he cut the gauze and secured it with medical tape. You had managed to fall asleep once your back was finally relieved of pain.

Which meant Megumi did everything right. That was enough for him as he flicked off the lights, crawling under the blankets and pulling them up over the both of you carefully. "Good night." He basically slurred out, exhaustion already making him relax into a blissful sleep.

#dividers from Benkeibear <3 #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #megumi fanfic #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #jjk imagines #megumi imagine #jjk megumi #megumi fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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dancinglikebutterflywings · 25 days

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1:37AM | Park Seonghwa

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Reader

Request: No.

Synopsis: Y/N isn't able to be with her boyfriend on his birthday.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 344

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©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings. No one has permission to copy, translate and/or repost my fics on here or any other site.

Y/N awoke to the sound of her phone ringing. Rolling over she grabs her phone from her bedside table having every intention to ignore it until she sees Seonghwa's name, number and a photo of them his birthday last year is illuminated on the screen.

She quickly answers the video call before it ends. "Hi baby, Happy Birthday."

"Thank you, my love," he replies, looking and sounding tired. "Did I wake you up? I'm sorry, I didn't even consider the time difference."

"It's okay," she assures him. "I was in between sleep. How is your day going?"

"It’s going nicely. We few other schedules this morning, but the guys and I went out to a nice restaurant for lunch. I got even more gifts from them," he explains. "Now I'm just sitting in my hotel room, waiting for rehearsals, with a large bouquet of flowers and all my favourite snacks half eaten." He switches the camera to the snacks and flowers to show her that he received them. "I'm surprised some of them could be found here."

"Did you like them?" She asks, a soft smile on her face, though a part of her felt disappointed that she couldn't be there with him for his birthday and couldn't give them to him in person. You're thankful to Hongjoong and Yunho for helping you with it.

"I love them, Jagiya," he smiles. "Almost as much as I love you."

"I have more for when you get back home," she tells him.

"I don't need anymore, I have enough already," he says, looking at her with heart eyes through the phone. "You're all I need."

"I'll just take that Lego set you've been dying to get your hands on back to the store then," you tease him.

“You and the Lego set is all I need,” he says with a chuckle. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she replies. Her heart fills with love and happiness, seeing his smile and hearing his laugh. It overtakes the disappointment of not being able to be with him.

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thefanficmonster · 1 month

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Piss off your parents pt.1

PART 2

PART 3

Colby Brock x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Drinking, Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Friends to Lovers, Fake Dating, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: You just wanted to rebel a little, how did it get to this?

"Y/N, you're fucking insane." Colby grumbles, struggling as he unbuckles one of his best friends out of the backseat of his car. She, however, seems completely unbothered by him maneuvering her into an upright position. She's giggling, actually, a direct contrast to her mascara streaked cheeks. She's drunk, wasted. Three sheets to the wind, if you will.

He already had to put two other drunk messes to bed tonight, Y/N's his third. He should be getting paid per person and per difficulty. Nate was the easiest to subdue, followed by Sam who put up a brief 'I'm not even drunk, dudeeee' kind of fight. And now her.

The party was at Sam's house so the previous two didn't require any special treatment other than being dunked into Sam's bed. Y/N however...

She'd pleaded with Colby, the most sober one of the bunch, to just let her be. Let loose, get drunk, flirt around a bit. That being said, four hours later - two hours past her curfew - when he tried prying her away from the drink table she put up one hell of a fight.

"You have the balance of a newborn giraffe! You're done! I'm cutting you off!" He'd yelled over the music, hearing his own parents' scolding in his tone but he ignored it. He had to take on the parenting role with his friends, it was his turn after all. He knows they'd do the same - they've done the same - when he was plastered. He owed them the same curtesy. Especially Y/N.

She's usually on parenting duty, not really on the heavy drinker side. But after the fight with her parents she told him about earlier, he can't blame her for wanting to drown it out with a few extra shots.

A few too many extra shots.

He was planning on just safely storing her in one of the guestrooms for the night and playing nurse the following morning when all three would undoubtedly have a hangover. But that's when Y/N's cognitive thought kicked in.

"My parents are gonna kill me if I don't make it home tonight! I can't sleep here!" She was - and still is - heavily slurring her words but the thought of further pissing off her folks drove her into an almost sobering panic. "Call me an Uber while I find my shoes. What time is it?"

Colby had carefully dodged around answering that question, knowing it would send her into a full blown heart attack knowing she was running so late. He tried telling her on time but she'd blown him off, saying she didn't care about the stupid curfew or at least that's how much he'd caught from her string of slurred rambles.

"You're not getting an Uber at this hour. Come on, I'll drive you." He'd said reassuringly as he picked up one of her stray shoes.

They soon found the second one and her missing purse and within fifteen minutes they'd gotten in his car and were gliding down the road with the speed of a tortoise. At this point in time Colby was neither drunk nor tipsy but that didn't stop him from sweating bullets as he operated the vehicle.

"I don't wanna go to Barton!" He'd believed she was asleep after the long stretch of silence following their departure so her sudden exclamation was quite startling.

"You won't, Y/N. You're coming with us to LA, remember?" He believed in that lie as much as she did, but he needed to soothe her somehow.

"Not according to mom! I'm gonna be stuck here in Kansas all my life!" Her anger was now engulfed by sobs Colby gently offered tissues for.

He stayed quiet and let her ramble, only partially listening to the words spilling directly from her heart. He especially tried drowning out the part where she went on a whole rant abut her massive crush on Nate.

But, alas, he wasn't successful, seeing as how he was white-knuckle-gripping the steering wheel more than half the way to her house.

That's how they've ended up here - one a giggly and mascara stained drunken mess and the other a bitter and regretfully sober babysitter. Well, babysitter, Uber driver and therapist all in one. He really should start charging for his services.

He wraps one of Y/N's arms around his shoulders, securing it there by holding her hand while his other arm fixates itself around her waist to keep her upright and at least semi steady on her feet.

With a silent prayer, he tries pushing the front door open with zero luck. It's locked.

He's cycling through all the stages of grief as he comes to terms with the fact that he will, unfortunately, have to ring the bell and alert Y/N's parents of their arrival.

He does just that, although quite begrudgingly, sighing heavily when he sees a light turn on through one of the windows. The sound of oncoming footsteps follows.

His eyes are soon met with the unpleasant glare of Y/N's mom who - as he's picked up on from their handful of interactions - already isn't very fond of him.

Just him!

She's lovely to Sam and Nate, but he's not extended the same curtesy. You can visibly see the air around her get colder when she approaches him whereas she's always been so kind and welcoming to the other two people in their friend group. He hasn't been able to figure out why. Bringing it up to Y/N proved futile as she just shrugged and shook her head.

"No clue, Colbs. But don't take it personally. She's just like that." She had said, but it didn't sit right with Colby. It made no sense. And it continues to bother him.

And unnerve him, specifically now as he's being stared down by her icy gaze.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Mrs. Y/L/N....just bringing Y/N home. She had a little too much to drink." There's no way in hell he could've concealed her drunkenness. She's hanging off of him with her head bowed, her hair forming a curtain over her face. He wouldn't be surprised if he were to find her already asleep.

"You know where her room is." There's an edge to her scoff that could slit a man's throat, but Colby chooses not to dwell on it. Truly, he can't, seeing as how she's already moving away from the doorway and down the hall into the living room, leaving him to deal with the mess she thinks he caused.

He can't find it in himself to be offended right now, although he probably will be later. He has bigger fish to fry.

And so, with his options limited, he opts to pick her up bridal style so he can easily carry her up the stairs. He hopes to God her parents don't see this and get the wrong idea.

Oh if he only knew what's to come...

As carefully as he can, he settles his unconscious best friend on her bed, tucking her in. He's murmuring reassuring words under his breath as he does so, not sure if they're meant for her or him but in the end it all works out.

"Night, Y/N." With that whispered in the darkness of the room and a gentle kiss on her temple, he makes his exit, briefly stopping at the bottom of the stairs to peek into the living room, "Good night, Mrs. Y/L/N."

"It's almost morning." Her reply is on-par with most of their interactions so he just pushes past it, shaking his head slightly before leaving out the front door.

As he does so, he notices the sky has taken on a brighter shade of blue, signaling Y/N's mom really wasn't exaggerating. With a sigh, he gets back behind the wheel, heading to Sam's house to check on his other two patients.

* * * * *

Her head is pounding but you'd never be able to tell from the giant grin on her face as she sprints through the neighborhood, skipping through backyards and hopping the occasional fence to cut the trip short. The strap of a duffle bag is slung over her shoulder, she's clutching onto it tightly. It has all her belongings in it, after all. It's of upmost importance she doesn't lose it.

That's be rather unfortunate right after spontaneously moving out, wouldn't it?

She wouldn't say she got kicked out of the house per-se. That would indicate that she was thrown out against her will. Quite the contrary actually. She was more than happy to leave. Had she known those were the magic words, she would've said them so much sooner.

She catches herself before she can make a face-first collision with Sam's front door, stopping to catch her breath and knock a couple of times. And a couple more times. And a few more times.

It's safe to say she's impatient. But with the news she has, you can't blame her.

"Stop! Stop!" A disheveled Sam finally opens the door, one hand partially covering his pale face, "Too loud..."

Y/N gives herself a moment to feel guilty and hug him apologetically before dashing inside. "Colby's here, right?"

"Yeah!" She hears his voice coming from the kitchen and immediately makes a beeline in his direction, dropping her bag in the foyer.

Upon entry, she finds Colby and Nate sitting by the kitchen island, both in different stages of 'the morning after'. Despite the crippling headache, however, the latter finds it in him to give her a genuine smile, sliding off the stool to envelop her in a hug.

"Aww, is someone hungover?" She mocks Nate, sneaking a sip from his Gatorade.

"Hey!" He complains, reaching over to snatch the bottle from her, "Give it back! I need it way more than you do."

Colby, unable to stomach their interaction - for reasons he doesn't want to get into right now - busies himself by looking down at his phone.

He's known of Y/N's little crush on Nate for months now. At first it was only speculation based off her demeanor around him. And then it was more like a punch to the gut when she tipsily confirmed it one night.

"Colbs?" Her voice snaps him out of his brief bitter spiral, forcing him to look up, "Can I borrow you outside for a sec?"

He's struggled with saying 'no' to her since the day they met. Not that he wants to turn her down, he just wishes he could.

And wishes she didn't. Without even knowing it. Turn him down, that is.

With a nod, he follows her out to the patio where the sun isn't kind to either of them, adding gasoline to the fire of their raging hangovers.

"Sup?" Try as he might, he has never been good at feigning nonchalance around her.

It's surprising to see her nervous. For once, he believes their playing field to be even. "So...I've got good news wrapped up in bad news."

Her words would panic him a lot more had she not come in like a force of nature with a gleaming smile adorning her face. Still, it's not at the top of the list of things he wants to hear on a Saturday morning. So, with an exaggerated sigh, he signals for her to continue, "I'm all ears. The last twenty four hours can't get much worse."

He watches her face twist as she cringes, well aware she's about to prove him wrong, "Well...." With a deep breath, she finally spits it out, "The good news is, I'm coming with you guys to LA."

Colby doesn't spare a second, momentarily forgetting the bad news she'd mentioned as he scoops her up in a hug, "No fucking way! Hell yeah! I fucking told you!" He can't describe the immense joy and relief he's feeling right now. "Kiss that Barton College shit goodbye!"

Giggling, Y/N kicks her feet, looking for solid ground beneath them. Not that she's in a rush to be set back down. In fact, for a split second, she wishes this moment could last forever.

But, she's aware it's impossible.

Suddenly, she feels guilt creeping in for even letting that thought run loose in her head. She doesn't even know how or why it popped up.

She just knows she's about to ruin it all.

"One problem..." It's actually far more than one, but they'll dissect that later on. She just has to get the main one out the way, "You see, how that came to be...."

"You have no shame! You get wasted at parties, break rules, come home past curfew." Mrs. Y/L/N's voice is shaking the house, echoing twice as loudly in Y/N's head as she's just trying to eat a bowl of cereal. "Random people are bringing you home at dawn!"

She has the gull to argue back, "Colby is not just some random person, mom!"

"Oh yeah, he of all people was the one bringing you home! What the hell, Y/N?!"

Her mom has never liked Colby. The problem is, no one knows why. Y/N isn't sure if her mom even knows why. She tried asking once, it didn't go over so well.

But that's when two and two click together into a four in her head - a bright idea. Actually, 'dim' would be better. Nothing bright is welcome within her proximity with the splitting headache she's nursing.

Without a second thought, she blurts out: "What's so wrong with having my boyfriend take me home after a party?"

Her words ring out like a gunshot in the quiet house. Yet they are nothing in comparison to the explosion of her mother's anger in response.

Colby's mouth is hanging open, his gaze piercing through more so than focusing on his friend.

She, on the other hand, is sweating bullets, anxiously waiting for him to say something and break the long silence that has fallen upon them. When he doesn't, she wills herself to whisper a mousy little "I'm sorry."

Finally, a voice leaves his parted lips: "Y/N, you're fucking insane."

199 notes · View notes

bad-and-drawn-that-way · 2 months

Note

HEAR ME OUT- DUMBIFICATION, DEGRADATION AND PRAISE WITH VOX

THOUGHTS??

I also have a headcanon request that I'll do separately in list form! This is actually a scene from a scrapped multi-chapter fic idea I had for a secretary reader. As to why it was scrapped, I didn't know how to finish it so I ✨gave up! ✨

Ngl this is actually only half of the scene, there's scraps of this whole extra kinky round-two thing with some casual exhibitionism, but we'll see how this does first. That being said, enjoy!

At Your Service [Vox x Secretary Reader] NSFW AS FUCK

(NSFW writing under the cut. Minors stay away <3)

It was an early morning like any other. Vox is sitting at his desk, looking over the paperwork he had from yesterday. It’s far too early and his bougie oversized office offered little comfort as you sleepily walked in. Hearing the door open, Vox looked up and smirked as he noticed the coffee in your hand.

"Good morning." he greeted you, motioning to a chair for you to take a seat.

"Morning," you smile a bit tiredly as you enter the room. You were never much of a morning person. Once the initial adrenaline of stepping out of your house had burned out, you needed the extra caffeine boost to keep your energy going.

A yawn slipped past your lips as you sat in the chair across from his desk.

"Wimp," Vox chuckled, poking fun at your inability to start a morning as early as him. It had become a regular topic of banter that started most of your work mornings together.

"Capitalist cocksucker," you wave him off. "Not everyone can be up at the ass crack of dawn in a freshly pressed suit, Sir. A few more sips of this stuff and I'll be good to go." You say as you lift your coffee to your lips.

You hum and lick some foam off your lip as you pull out your laptop. "Any changes to today's agenda I need to know about?" you ask him.

Vox smirked, rolling his eyes as he pulled up one of the hundreds of tabs he had open on his computer. "I can tell you're still a bit tired, but if you're sure... " he paused for a moment, glancing over his schedule."Yes, actually. There has been a small change to the overall plan. We're going to be running a new campaign today, so I'll need you to be ready to assist with that."

"What would you like me to oversee?

"I want you to be over on the promotion side for this new campaign," he said as he looked up from his paperwork. "Make sure that we get maximum visibility on this. The security system may have been a spur-of-the-moment idea, but it could bring in huge fucking numbers if we pull it off. I want as many people as possible to know about it and twice as many sales as views minimum.”

You nod, take notes, and start writing an email draft to get meetings scheduled. "Do you want the visual hypnosis team to work on the campaign or the auditory team?" It was common knowledge that Vox had hypnotic abilities, but it was less common to know how it had been incorporated throughout his entire company. Inductions were slipped into nearly every advertisement, program, and product that the company made.

"Have both of the hypnosis teams work on it," he answered. "We'll have the visual team focus primarily on the advertising for the campaign, and the audial team will work on creating the sounds and audio to slip in. We want this to be a very effective campaign, so the more hypnotic technology we can put into work, the better."

You stop typing, looking up at him incredulously. “Are you sure? The last time we doubled down on inductions we had to do that whole cover story to explain why half of hell turned into braindead zombies for a week.”

“It’ll be fine,” Vox waved off your concerns. “That was years ago and we’re better at this shit now. We can always blame it on Alastor somehow if shit goes wrong.”

You nod along, "If you’re sure. I've personally been incredibly susceptible to the combination, so forgive me if I don’t watch any of your programs for the next month," you say idly without thinking.

You didn’t notice as Vox paused. You didn’t notice the toothy grin that could have prepared you for what was to come either. "How susceptible were you previously to hypnosis?"

You nod along, not listening to his question as you finish sending the email to the hypnosis teams. Your brain catches up with you as you hit send and you freeze like a deer in the headlights. The look on your flushed face was priceless and Vox would have burst out laughing if he wasn’t so invested in hearing your answer. "I, uh.." you look away from him, "I was focused and said too much out loud. You weren't supposed to hear that."

His eyes were still on you, a clear look of curiosity flashing across his expression.

"You're right, I wasn't supposed to hear that,” He grinned. “But you said it and you’re not getting out of this that easily. You said that you are quite susceptible?"

You cringe, knowing you couldn't dodge a direct question from your boss. Even if he was an ass and an absolute man-child. "I..." you bite your lip curling in on yourself and crossing your legs as you take a sudden great interest in your laptop. "Yeah, I may have... experimented a bit."

His eyebrows raised, and he leaned slightly over to get a better look at you.

"Experiments?" he spoke softly. "What type of experiments?"

You sputter, your entire body flushing as you stammer out a panicked reply, "I, ah, um.. don't know if that would be a-appropriate to um.."

He chuckled slightly, now seeming rather amused by your reaction. "I assure you, I've heard much worse than whatever you may be worried about telling me."

"E-even so," you try to reason. "It's embarrassing. It's one thing to do it, it's another to tell your boss about it."

His eyebrows raised further. "You've done hypnotic experiments on yourself, and you're embarrassed to tell me about it?” He chuckles and rests his screen on his hand. “Yeah, no. You’re not getting out of this. What exactly did you do?"

You stare at him, before sighing and opening up a blank document. It was too mortifying to say out loud. He may have the power to squeeze the information out of you for his entertainment, but you’d be damned if you gave him the satisfaction of saying it out loud. You silently type up that you've tried being hypnotized both sober and when high and how you had done free-use edging with a group while high and hypnotized. Without a word you turn the laptop around so he can read it, your face on fire as you look anywhere but at him.

He had been expecting something a bit more tame, but now he was intrigued. It seemed that you had quite the mind on you to explore such risky topics. When he finished reading it, he raised his eyebrows even further, seemingly somewhat impressed.

"Well, I'll be damned," he commented. "That's not what I expected... What made you wanna try such things?"

"I like the feeling of it," you muttered as you turned the laptop around and promptly deleted the damning text.

His eyebrows raised a bit, intrigued. "You like the feeling of being hypnotized? You like letting someone else be in control of you?"

You pressed your lips together, blushing hard as he asked his question.

"Is that a yes then?" he inquired, his grin growing as the pixels under his mouth went dead. "You don't want to give me a straight answer, but the way you're stuttering and blushing makes it pretty clear that you do."

"S-Shut up," you bite back at his call-out as you finally look back at him.

Vox laughs as he just keeps winning the game he’d caught you in. "I think I hit the nail on the head, didn't I?"

"Y-Yes, sir." You say, cringing as you realize that sounded completely different given the topic compared to when you usually called him that during work hours.

He chuckled again, finding your response more than a bit amusing. "Well then, I take it that you have no issues with me being in complete control over you, then?"

You would combust into flames if you could. Your legs clenched together as you took in his question. You looked down at your laptop, stammering as you felt yourself quickly slipping into his grasp. "T-The campaign-"

"Yes, yes, yes," he interrupts you, seeming rather amused by this. "We'll talk about the campaign after that. I'm more interested in how much control you're willing to give up to me right here and now."

"I..." you pause, staring down at your hands clenched on top of your laptop. Were you really about to do this? Fuck it.

You look up at him and nod.

A grin appeared on his face as you nodded, even more amused now that this little bit was going exactly the way he had hoped. The two of you had flirted here and there, but never anything more than the occasional passing comment. If anything, it had just been a part of the playful and teasing game you’d be playing together for the past few months with you as his assistant.

He had no idea if you had ever truly noticed his advances or the way he’d stare at your ass in that pencil skirt you always wore during meeting days. But now he had the chance to unravel every last secret that’d been out of reach. Vox was nothing if not an opportunist.

"Good girl," he said softly. "Are you ready for me to control you now?"

You stand, going to place your phone and laptop on a nearby table. You stop and take a shaky breath, smoothing out your pencil skirt. You turn and walk back to him, this time hesitating instead of simply sitting in the chair across from his desk.

"Yes."

He smiles at your obedience and hesitation, noting the way that you smoothed down your skirt. You had already given up quite a lot of control to him, and it seemed that it was just going to be even easier from this point on.

"Then come here," he said softly, motioning for you to do so.

Your heart was pounding hard in your chest and you felt how hot your cheeks were as you stepped forward and moved to stand before him. His attention had been on every part of you, taking in every inch of you. He didn’t have to sneak in glances like before, he could just take it all in on his own time. He was enjoying the way that he seemed to be able to control you with a seemingly simple command. And to think he’d barely lifted a finger.

His eyes moved downwards as you stood in front of him, and his expression became a bit more serious than mere amusement.

"Let your skirt fall to your ankles," he instructed.

You practically shivered at the command, screaming internally at how embarrassed you felt and yet squirming at how just a short command from him was enough to send sparks through your body.

Your face flushed as you slowly undid the zipper on the side of your hip, taking a sharp breath before letting the fabric fall to the floor. You hugged yourself as you looked to the side, stepping out of your skirt and standing half-exposed in front of him.

He couldn't help but smirk as you did exactly as he commanded. Your legs were now exposed, and he noted how they were quivering slightly.

"Good girl," he smirked. "Now, let's step this up."

"But you’re still wearing too much. Let’s move on to your top next, shall we?" he suggested with a spark of playful amusement.

Oh god, was he really going to make you do this? It would have been one thing if he had been the one undressing you, but the fact he was making you do it for him like this was going to be the double death of you. You shakily undo the buttons of your blouse, trying to keep your heart rate under control as you pull it over your head and let it fall to the floor by your skirt.

You look at Vox, hoping he’d finally have some mercy and touch you himself, but he only lazily drags his gaze over your body with a hum of approval. "And finally?"

You were only left in your bra, underwear, sheer black thigh-high tights, and your heels. You felt incredibly vulnerable in his large office. Anyone could come in through the door and the windows that overlooked the city suddenly felt far more exposing than they ever had before.

You could see the spark of excitement begin to rise in him as you bit your lip and paused. Your hesitation was only making this a bit more exciting for him. He could hardly keep up the playful mask when his claws were threatening to tear into the armrest of his chair.

"Go on... " he said softly and slowly, his voice now beginning to become a bit huskier.

You took another shaky breath as you slowly reached back to unclasp your bra. You shook just knowing he was looking at you. That he was pursuing this. It made you hyper-aware in every way as you tossed the garment to the side and then finally stepped out of your underwear.

His gaze on your body was intense once more, seeming to take in every inch of you. He could not stop himself from being intrigued by your body and by just how vulnerable you were right now.

Your shaking was making it even more enticing to him. "Good girl," he said softly. You move to undo the garter and roll down your tights, when he stops you. Leave those. They’re perfect.” The dead pixels under his mouth might as well have been drool with the way his eyes hungrily took in the sight of the tights pressing into your skin so perfectly.

“Are you ready to move on to the last step?"

You take a deep breath before lowering to your knees in front of him and nodding. You'd never done anything like this with a single person, finding it so much easier in a group. His lone, laser focus on you made you feel every twitch and spark and overwhelmed you in the best of ways.

"Yes, Sir."

He looked down at you once more, this time taking in all of your body as you were now kneeling, your hands resting on his chair.

"Now..." he said quietly as he reached down in a rare moment of tenderness as he lifted your chin. "I want to ask you a very simple question, but you must answer honestly. Do you enjoy this? Do you enjoy giving up your control to me?"

The smallest moan slips past your lips without your permission. Despite your embarrassment, you answer truthfully. “Yes. I love it a lot, actually.."

He smirked at the moan and the truth in your words. You were enjoying this... he could tell. You truly loved giving up your control to him. And he loved taking it.

"Good girl," he said with a soft chuckle at your veracity. "Very, very good girl. You enjoy letting me take c̶o̸m̶p̴l̶e̵t̵e̵ control of you, don't you?"

You take a deep breath, feeling your body relax a bit as you feel a bit of yourself give into him as you finally gather the nerve to look him in the eye. "Yes, Sir."

His expression seemed to shift a bit as you gave in even more. His amusement was more apparent now, as he now had you exactly where he wanted you.

"I love that you enjoy this so much," he said softly. "Does it make it more fun for you to know that you are pleasing me?"

You nod, shifting on your knees. "It does," you say earnestly. "Your approval isn't something easy to earn."

The slight shift you made was enough to cause him to smirk once more. Every time you moved, he would find something new about you that appealed to him.

"I approve of this tremendously," he grinned. "It is obvious that you enjoy giving up your control over me and letting me take control of you. It is clear that you enjoy giving me pleasure."

You let out a hot breath, your eyes darting down to between his legs as he mentioned giving him pleasure. You weren’t subtle about it either. Vox chuckled, amused more now than any other time during the interactions you two have had so far. You whine, your fists clenching where they rested on top of your thighs. Your chest shifted with every movement as you waited for his instruction.

"So eager," he breathed. He reached down and tucked your hair behind your ear as he committed the view to memory. "Go on, then,” he purred. “Show me what you’re willing to do for this.”

"I'm happy to give you a demonstration," you say to him with a smirk. Vox chuckled, happy to see some of your usual sass seep into the moment. He just knew you had a bratty side to you. The duality of how eager you seemed to submit and that bit of knowledge filled him with anticipation for all the different sides of you he wanted to see.

You scoot forward and reach for the zipper of his slacks. You chuckle as his breath hitches when you slowly pull down. He moans softly as your hand only continues following a path down as you palm him slowly over his slacks. There was already a bulge formed there that made you twitch with delight.

Looking up, you see Vox watching you with wide eyes. The smirk on his face only grew larger as you slowly pulled down his slacks and boxers You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, his breath becoming more and more audible with every slow movement.

You hum with pleasure as you focus your attention on his half-hard cock in your hand. It was easier to let go and forget your insecurities when you had him in front of you like this. For as much as you’d fantasized about him, you had never dared to dream you’d find yourself in this situation with him. You lean down and use your hand to slowly pump him before you lock eyes with him and lick a trail across the underside of his cock.

“F̷̮͛u̷̞͗c̵̹̈́k̸̝̎i̷̝͝n̶̗̎g̷̭͒ hell,” Vox swore, his grip on his chair tightening. His breath got increasingly more audible, his throat hoarse from his attempts at restraining any noise he might make. He’d been dreaming of this for far too long. He had you pegged all wrong. He always thought you were innocent. Flirty, but he couldn’t truly imagine you’d have a side like this. You always seemed too pure despite your sass. How happy was he, to be proven wrong.

"Good girl," Vox huskily breathed as his fingers tangled in your hair.

You lower down to press a kiss to the head of his cock. He hissed as you sucked lightly and collected his pre-cum on your tongue. You let your tongue loll out for a moment to show him before you lower yourself and take him in your mouth. Your tongue swirls around the tip of him and your fingers dig into his thighs as you bob your head shallowly. You tease him with subtle motions before you start to take his length down your throat in earnest.

Every movement you made only increased the heat of the situation exponentially and Vox found his cool demeanor quickly fading as he panted above you. “F̷̰͠u̵͕̅c̵̠̓k̸̞͊i̵̢͊n̵͓̅g̷̤̃ ̶̠̋ḫ̵̑e̵̩̾l̶̦͋l̶̩͆,” he gasped as your tongue lapped at the base of his cock. How the fuck were you doing that when he was jammed past your non-existent gag reflex?

You hummed around him, your eyes watering as you choked on him. He could see the mirth in your eyes and he knew you’d be teasing him with a snarky remark if you weren’t too busy drooling on his dick like a goddamn champ.

Vox lets out a stuttering breath. As hot as it was, he wasn’t going to let you just get away with keeping your attitude intact. Out of selfish pleasure, he let you continue your ministrations for a moment longer before his fingers tugged at your hair, bringing your attention back to him.

You let him pull you off of his member, your tongue hanging out as you catch your breath and smile dumbly at him. His expression remained very much one of satisfaction and admiration as he observed you. That dumbly, innocent smile of yours was rather endearing to him, as it went hand in hand with the way you were acting.

"You really are quite the little showstopper, aren’t you?" he said quietly as he took in your porn-quality face. He idly wondered how the hell you ended up working for him and not Valentino. He was not about to complain about the unexpected victory.

You hummed happily, letting yourself go more for him. It was such a stark contrast to how tense you were when you were working. He'd never seen this side of you before and he hadn't even hypnotized you yet.

He had now realized just why you got so tense when he approached you with that offer. You enjoyed this in such a way that it was almost intoxicating, that it was almost addictive. It was a stark contrast to the version of you he knew that strived for greatness and top results at all times. You must have been so wound up from it all that you just whiplashed into the complete opposite frame of mind to release.

If you were already like this in front of him, then what would you be like after he had you completely under his control?

You nod, smirking as some drool fell to your chest from when you had your mouth on him moments ago.” What can I say?” you say teasingly. “Oral fixations keep a girl eager.”

Vox grinned with the look of a hungry predator as his eyes roamed all over you. Every god damned inch.

“You actually want this, don’t you?” He chuckled. “You want me to turn you into a brain-dead d̶͈͊ȍ̴̪l̵̺͊ḽ̸̏.”

"Please," you whisper as you look up at him with pleading eyes.

You could see the hunger within his eyes as you said that single fucking word. It didn’t take lifting a single finger for you to desperately plead for his control. You’d been wanting this just as bad as he had. The whole goddamned time. Vox buried his face in his hands and you looked at him with concern. You couldn’t see the way he grinned or feel how his body trembled slightly. You could only gasp as your vision was filled with black and red spirals when he lowered his hands and looked at you with a wicked grin.

You sit back on your knees, your eyelids growing heavy as your mouth falls open. Your body felt like it was floating and it was enough to make you feel like you were high. The hypnotic effect of his demonic abilities was how he'd reached the powerful position of an overlord. Even if you hadn't been so susceptible, you would have been powerless under his gaze as a normal person.

Any hypnosis you’d experienced before took many sessions of induction. It took a bond, trust, and a lot of mental bandwidth to be so vulnerable. But Vox could just drop you at a whim. And the pull of his tide dragging you under was stronger than anything you’d ever succumbed to before.

You were blissfully unaware as Vox’s expression shifted into feral joy. Your submission. This control. It was all his for the taking. You were giving him everything he’d ever craved and he could already tell that once he properly tasted this power, he’d never want to let go. He’d become an addict, for sure.

Your mind and body felt like they were floating. All you could see was Vox as your empty and needy self waited for his command. Your body felt almost weightless now, every sense and thought centered solely on him. His commands were all that you cared about now, his desires were now like law to you, and your body, empty as it was, only had one desire.

"I want you to do as I ask without question, do you understand?" he asked, his voice shaking with delight and raw hunger.

"Yes," you sigh, your every breath feeling heavy as you’re pulled deeper under his spell.

He had already gotten you to admit you were a submissive slut and he already got you to strip for him. All before he had even used his power on you. Now? Now, he could make you do or tell him anything he wanted. You were his.

"Good girl," he grinned. "I want you to stand up and walk over to that door over there," he said, pointing to one of the nearby doors to the room. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," you say calmly. Whereas before your embarrassment left you feeling exposed, you now felt relaxed and light. Your embarrassment and insecurities didn’t exist under Vox’s control. There was only the need to satisfy him and be blessed with ecstasy in return.

You walked over to the door in nothing but your sheer thigh-high tights and heels. You place both of your hands on the door and stand with your hips out, waiting for Vox.

Vox glitched hard and admired the way that you followed these commands so easily. This was his. He found himself growing more addicted and possessive by the second. His mind was already buzzing with all the ways he could mold you to his every need and desire. He’d never felt so in control of another person like this and it satiated a dark craving in him.

"Now, I want you to take off those tights and throw them over to me."

You bend over in front of him, fully exposed, yet carefree as you peel off your tights and hand them to him with a relaxed look on your face. Vox sparked again as he got a full view of your need for him. Once your tights were off, you handed them over to him calmly. All you could think about was pleasing him and satisfying him. Your anxiety and self-conscious tendencies were washed away.

Vox ordered you to put your hands behind your back. He grinned and tied your wrists together with one of the stockings. He snatched your underwear from the forgotten bundle of clothing by his desk and made you open your mouth for him. He stuffed them in and used the other stocking to tie around your mouth.

Now that you were completely bound, your mind was completely free to focus on the feelings and sensations you were experiencing. He dropped the hypnotic spell on you and you gasped into your gag as your mind cleared and he pushed you forward so your face and tits were flush against the door. You shuddered hard and let out a broken moan as his palm rubbed against your leaking cunt.

Vox grinned and leaned down to speak by your ear as he slid his fingers in. “You have n̷͙̈o̷̹̎ idea how much I can’t wait to fucking d̷̲͆e̶̗͘s̴̳̈t̸͚̆r̷͎͒o̸͙͊ỹ̸̝ ̸̞̉y̷̰̓ǒ̵̦u̵̬͂.”

Your gasps and moans were muffled by the fabric in your mouth and you pushed against him as he roughly played with you. His hand slammed your head against the door and held you in place as his fingers curled and scissored inside of your sloppy heat. Tears pricked your eyes as your heart and mind raced. You were completely vulnerable to him, but now your embarrassment was rearing his head at the worst (b̴̼̊è̶͔s̶͜͝t̶̹̽) possible moment.

The chance that there could be anyone on the other side of the door had you thrashing desperately against Vox’s ministrations. Vox delighted in your internal struggle and couldn’t help himself as his claws dug into the back of your hair so he could pull you back hard. “I’m going to make sure e̶͖͌v̷̞͐e̶͈̽r̶̡̂y̸̨͊o̵̤̚n̴̦̈́e̴̥͌ ̵͜͠k̵̜̔n̷̝̈́ǒ̷̮w̷͎̅s̸͓̈́ who̸̩͂ ̶͔̀y̸͎̐ő̸̳u̸̗͊ ̶̞̏f̶͎̔u̷̠̅ć̵͈k̶͙̚i̴̜̿n̸̘͐g̷̨̿ ̸͔̌ belong to,” he growled as he lifted one of your legs and slipped himself inside of you.

Your eyes rolled back and you screamed into your gag as he slipped in and out of you with ease. He’d been so hard from the build-up of it all and you were literally dripping for him by this point. Vox growled and lost control as he picked up the pace of his actions, moving you around to different areas of the office and fucking you in as many positions as possible. He wanted you exposed. He wanted you defenseless. He wanted you marked in the blood and bruises of his ownership. He wanted to ḋ̴̥ó̶̰m̵̯̕i̷̗͗n̴͈̽a̵̱̒t̶̤̎ȇ̸͚ you. And he would.

Neither of you could keep track of the amount of times you’d come. Your mixed desire was dripping from your cunt as he’d buried himself deep inside of you every time one of you peaked. This was all he wanted. That was all you wanted. No more thinking, no more emotions, just the sheer fucking pleasure.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as you cried from how good he made you feel. He knew how to unravel you into nothing more than a babbling mess with every clever touch and command. It was becoming too much and yet you felt like you wanted more of it. You were overwhelmed as you felt yourself quickly approaching an orgasm.

“That’s it,” Vox growled as he fucked you against his desk. He chuckled darkly as he smacked your ass. “Fucking do it, c̴͖͆o̵͕͋m̷̟̉ẽ̵̞.”

You threw your head back and screamed as your entire body convulsed around him. You couldn't do anything but take his relentless thrusts as he pounded you into the desk. Vox growled, nearly on the verge of cumming himself when he suddenly rips himself off of you. You let out a muffled sob as you clench around nothing.

Your entire world is suddenly filled with bright blue electricity as you feel everything shift suddenly. You almost fall, but are caught by Vox’s hands. You squint as your eyes adjust to the sudden change of lighting and Vox undoes the gag around your mouth as you realize you’re now in his surveillance room.

Your eyes go wide and you gasp and you see yourself on the monitors with Vox crouched over you. Every screen was showing a live feed of you from several different angles, showing how vulnerable you were in this situation. The footage of you was quite an entertaining sight for Vox as his wires came out of nowhere and threw you onto his chair.

"V-Vox,” you gasp as you look up at him with wide eyes. The overlord’s grin stretches wide as he grabs onto your shaking legs.

It was the first time you'd actually used his name.

At work, you were professional. In his office, you were playful. However now that he had you in his lair, he would mark a new side of you… Here, you were your true self, fully and utterly submissive. Here was his favorite.

You couldn't help but moan shamelessly as he lifted you with his cables and sat in the chair beneath you. You threw your head back with a scream as he dropped you onto his cock and turned the chair so you had an eyeful of each and every monitor with your shameful display recorded.

You moan as you bounce yourself on him, meeting every one of his feral thrusts. Your mind was completely gone. Every grunt and growl that slipped from his lips only fueled your need. The marks on your hips and back from where his sharp nails clawed in burned just as deliciously as the stretch of him inside you.

Pain and pleasure all in one were now filling your mind. His grunts and growls were becoming louder, as were yours. You couldn't control it. This situation was pushing you further and further toward the edge.

You leaned into him, gasping as he made you lose your mind.

"P-please." You begged.

"Beg for it," he said growled, "Beg f̸̼̑ó̶̙r̴̠̀ ̵̫́m̴̡̾è̸̼."

You moan low as you desperately plead with him. "Please Vox, plus fucking break me! Please please please, Sir, please I'll be good. I'll do anything, please, Sir, fucking please!"

"You'll do anything for me," he said, with a grin on his face as he saw you getting more desperate with your plea. The red recording symbol on all of the screens wasn’t enough to make you see the incoming danger. You were too overwhelmed with the pleasure quaking through your body as Vox pumped into your sloppy cunt.

Your entire body shook hard as his movements suddenly stopped. A long whine of frustration and the roll of your hips made Vox grin. You were so desperate for him in the moment, you didn't notice the gravity of the position you were in.

"Fucking please don’t stop, I'll do anything Vox, please," you begged as you desperately rutted against him.

"I'm going to give you exactly what you want," he grinned as he whispered in your ear. "If you do everything I say from now on, then I'll give you everything you want. Sound like a deal?"

You sob, nodding rapidly against him. "Fuck, please, yes! It's a deal, so please!"

Vox suddenly thrusts up into you hard, making you scream as the room flashes with electricity. The deal was made and the pact was sealed.

"Good girl," he said quietly and calmly, as he pet your hair.

His grin was downright sinister as he pulled your head back.

"You're mine now."

Your eyes went wide as you realized the gravity of what you had just done in the heat of the moment. "Wait, I-" you gasp as you're cut off as Vox starts to mercilessly pound into your heat.

"I heard what you said," he grins as his claws dig into your hips and draw blood. "I heard it a̸̩̎l̴͚͗l̷̖̓.. And I'm going to hold you to e̵̻̐v̶͎͌é̵͉r̶͕͊y̷̳̍ word of that agreement."

If you thought Vox was rough before, it was nothing compared to how he used you now. He tossed you around like a toy and you sobbed as he broke you.

Your eyes were crossed as you screamed and took everything he had to give you. "Vox, Vox, Sir, fucking please!" You babbled, practically worshipping how he destroyed you now that he owned your soul. It was too good to care about the consequences. It was too much. All you could think of was how badly you needed him.

Your screams and moans were now all he could hear as you completely lost it. He was using everything that he could to break you and he seemed to enjoy every second of it. He was doing you dirty, but it was also exactly what you desired. All you wanted now was his approval, as he completely controlled and dominated you in body and spirit.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #this shit is DEPRAVED #that being said the second half i had drafted was even more feral than this #this was the WARMUP

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