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rrxnjun · 9 months

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where do broken hearts go? [lmk]

you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.

wc: 12k (11.926)

warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic

playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz

a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)

When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him.

There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.

Step one – cry it out.

“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”

“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.

“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude.

He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.

First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all.

Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would.

And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.

And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.

“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.

“You know I hate cookies and cream!”

“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.

And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.

Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.

Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.

“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.

“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”

“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”

And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.

It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.

“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.

Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe.

“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.

“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.

Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…”

Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.

“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.

Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.

And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier.

And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose.

Couldn’t he forget about that too?

Step three – block his number.

The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.

Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one.

Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.

So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.

“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.

Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence.

“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.

“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.

“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”

“Mark–”

“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”

The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“You still there?”

“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now– as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.

“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?

“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.

“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”

You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.

“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.

“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”

It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.

“What was it?”

“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You��re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.

“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”

The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.

“Good night, Mark.”

“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.

He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.

And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.

Step four – date someone new.

“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.

“So…?”

A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.

“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.

“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”

“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.

“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”

“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.

“I said he asked about you.”

“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”

Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”

“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”

“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”

Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.

Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”

Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.

“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”

“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”

“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”

“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.

“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”

“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.

“No, that’s not it–”

“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.

“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.

“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”

“I have you,” you try.

“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”

You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.

Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help.

Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”

“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“

And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice.

And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car.

The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.

“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack.

Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.

Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this?

“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening.

“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place.

“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.

And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind.

Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain.

It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different.

Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?

After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.

Step five – avoid him at all costs.

Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?

Wrong.

Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?

And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike.

When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile.

“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.

You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.

“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”

Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.

“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”

Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.

Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.

It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest.

You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about.

You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.

You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning.

“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”

Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”

“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”

The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.

At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now.

“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”

The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.

“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.

“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”

Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”

“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.

“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body.

Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”

“Here, of all places?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”

Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface.

“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”

“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft.

“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?”

He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”

“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.

“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.

And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you.

“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.

“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”

“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.

A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”

His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.

And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more.

“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.

Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough.

“I love you,” he says.

And isn’t that all that’s needed?

A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?

“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”

“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”

“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him.

“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.

Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.

“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”

And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time.

Where do broken hearts go?

Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair.

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”

“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him.

“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”

You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again.

You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.

“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.

Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.

“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else.

That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge.

And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.

He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression.

“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.

“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.

“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.

Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”

“Even us?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.

“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.

“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”

Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence. “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”

Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.

You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.

Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.

You guess your heart never really left the hill.

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wttcsms · 10 months

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it always leads to you, masterlist ; sae itoshi

sae itoshi has long since prepared himself for a lifetime of disappointment and crushed dreams ever since he stepped foot in spain and realized the world was bigger than just his hometown in japan. what he doesn't prepare for is being 27 and on the most uncomfortable plane ride to move back home. now, he has to adjust to living with his career-ending injury, licking his wounds, and having to face everything and everyone he's spent so hard trying to run away from. including you, the girl whose heart he broke, and the mother of his child that he's never met.

pairing sae itoshi x f!reader content contains/will contain timeskip/ex-pro athlete!sae x f!reader, strangers with a history, second chance (more like hundredth chance) romance, high school sweethearts to exes to toxic long distance situationship to awkward co-parents to lovers (relationship status: it's complicated), pregnancy, child plays a role in the fic, nsfw content/porn with plot, character study into sae, more to be added word count tbd... (estimated to be ~50k at completion, subject to change)

prologue / one / two / three / four

track list ! renegade, big red machine ft. taylor swift / cardigan, taylor swift / betty, taylor swift / exile, taylor swift / two people, gracie abrams / the last time, taylor swift / tis the damn season, taylor swift / this is me trying, taylor swift / best, gracie abrams / right where you left me, taylor swift / you're losing me, taylor swift / i know you, faye webster / nobody gets me, sza / night shift, lucy dacus / always, daniel caesar / the alcott, the nation ft. taylor swift / keep that to yourself, tristan / things i wish you said, sabrina carpenter

#sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #blue lock headcanons #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #sae itoshi smut #angst #fluff #bllk x reader #this fic is sooooo taylor coded #series: it always leads to you

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marvelsswansong · 2 years

Text

bad for business

summary: Steve's got a lot on his plate - managing his house whilst his parents are out of town, work shifts in Family Video, babysitting six teens. If only his love for you didn't get in the way: you're good for his heart but bad for business.

tags: Steve x fem!reader, tooth rotting fluff, whipped n lovesick bf Steve, exasperated Robin & sassy kids, Steve's parents being toxic, humor, slightly suggestive, Sabrina song fic again

☆ word count: 5.3K+ ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Steve still remembered the stern look on his father's aged face, frown lines carving into the old man's dimples as he cautiously dangled the set of keys from his left hand.

"Are you sure that you'll be able to manage everything whilst we're gone?"

There was a hint of doubt laced into his question, a shadow of disapproval and distrust barely masked by his neutral expression. Not that it affected Steve much - he was used to his father's sly comments at this point, the casual passive aggressiveness, the layering of seemingly innocent questions with sour tones.

So Steve simply smiled and rolled his shoulders forward, his fingers meeting his father's wrinkled ones as the house keys were exchanged by the front porch of the house. The car was already running, toxic gas fumes billowing into the air, stacks of suitcases crammed into the backseat.

"Yes, dad. I promise to be diligent."

His father only narrowed his eyes at that, licking his chapped lips as he eyed Steve up and down.

"Well, I suppose it shouldn't be too difficult for you to manage. It isn't as if you're pressed for time: considering you're a twentysomething with a job at a video store and no future plans for higher education."

The insult stung, bitter taste filling Steve's mouth, but he'd be damned if he let it show how his father's cruelty affected him. So his lips only ever so flicked upwards in a faux smile, sick sweetness dripping from his tone.

"Of course. I hope you and mom have a great time in San Francisco."

Steve's mother was kinder upon departure - albeit, only so because she hurriedly left with a swift kiss to his cheek and a stern reminder that she'd left a list on the fridge on all he'd have to do whilst they were gone. It was clear that neither of his parents truly trusted him to take care of the house, which annoyed him to no end, but he swallowed all his protests and waved his parents goodbye as the maroon Ford swerved out of the driveway.

The list of things to keep on top of, as scribbled down by his mother in frantic pencil marks, now remained practically untouched by his fridge. The first morning after his parents had gone, he'd briefly skimmed over the list and began to sort through the tasks in his mind - the laundry, collecting the mail, dusting his parents' room, opening the windows in the basement to allow for air to circulate... And he was determined on being responsible and sticking by it to a tee-

And then you'd called.

Giggly and drunk, calling him from a random phone booth outside a downtown bar, voice low and sweet as you rambled on about how much you missed him. Steve was dashing out of his house in an instant at that, not even bothering to take the time to turn off all the lights or properly lock his front door, and he spent the rest of the night doting after you - bringing you glasses of water, pressing light kisses onto your forehead, devouring one VHS tape after another on the couch with your sleepy body enveloping his.

'I'll get to the list of things tomorrow.' he reasoned then, fingers gently running up and down the curve of your waist as you slept peacefully against his chest. The disapproving stares and condescending comments of his parents disappeared further and further in his mind as he relaxed into your hold, warmth and familiar scents of vanilla and jasmine lulling him to sleep.

That was three days ago.

Steve still hasn't taken out the trash. He's yet to even drive past the post office to see if his parents had received any new packages. The laundry basket is still full and leaning hazardously against his parents' bedroom door, almost mocking him every time he passes by their room. Alas, Steve's been too busy spending every moment with you: spontaneous drives, date nights, and running errands around town with your pinkie finger interlaced with his.

Damn it.

Today's the day, Steve tells himself, fixing his curls in the bathroom mirror before taking a deep breath in. He's going to have a quick breakfast before getting started with mowing the lawn, then he'll move on to sort the laundry, then he can drive off to the post office-

"STEVIEEEE-" your melodic voice rings out from the kitchen, cutting through his frantic thoughts with ease. The warmth that blossoms in his stomach is instantaneous, as is the grin on his face at the sound of your pleading.

"Yes, angel?" he shouts back, peeking his head out the door. You step back from the kitchen counter, Steve's oversized green tie dye shirt hanging loosely and stopping at the top of your thighs. It drives him crazy: your bedhead hair, the bumblebee patterned fuzzy socks on your feet, the innocent twinkle in your eyes as you smile at him from across the room.

"Do you want bacon or sausages with your pancakes?" you ask, deep in thought.

"Either is good with me, love." Steve responds, but you only pout at that, shaking your head sideways in mock dissatisfaction.

"That's not helpful, babe! Or is it because you want both?"

"Fine, uh... sausages, I guess." he resigns and you nod, returning your attention to the sizzling pan. He takes a moment after turning off the sink tap to admire you in the sunlight - golden beams of light illuminating a halo around the crown of your head, pink lips turning glossy as you absentmindedly suck on a strawberry, soft thighs parting and crossing underneath his t-shirt.

It's a sight that makes Steve feral with desire, heart pounding so fast he thinks it'll burst out of his chest. It's a sight that he'd give anything to wake up to, all other consequences be damned.

And Steve's plans for a quick breakfast all but fly out the window the moment you sit him down onto the kitchen counter and insist on him keeping you company through the "most important meal of the day." The excuse of really having to get to the list of tasks left by his parents is sitting on the tip of his tongue, but his mind blanks white at your glittery smile and your soft fingers tracing random patterns onto his shaky hands, legs thrown over his lap.

"Just fifteen minutes, please?" you bat your eyelashes at him too, and he's a goner.

"Of course, baby."

Breakfast drags on for at least an hour - what with Steve wanting to feed you spoonfuls of sweet honeyed pancakes and grapes, your legs kicking forward in delight, and the various kisses he can't help himself to leave along your skin. Head burrowed in to the dip of your neck leading down to the valley of your breasts, one arm tightly wrapped around your waist to secure you in his lap, time just slips away from him easily.

Once the plates are empty and the dishwasher's been filled, Steve forces himself (pulling away from your embrace with significant difficulty) to get on with his tasks. He gets an hour or two at best before you flip the rest of his day upside down, finding him hunched over the washing machine. Face scrunched up in frustration and bottom lip protruding as he intently focuses, Steve's throat then runs dry the moment he looks up and sees that you've changed into his favorite dress. Mint green with light puffy sleeves, a dress with cotton fabric which hugs your figure perfectly.

"It's so nice outside and you want to stay home and do the laundry?" you whine, jumping up and down on the balls of your feet. He's still caught off guard as you trail towards him, mischievous smile on your lips as you tug at his sleeves.

"We should go out, Stevie. I heard Lover's Lake is real romantic this time of the year, and we have enough left overs from last night to have a picnic."

There's still so many things to do - he's only manage to cross off two tasks out of a total of twenty, and his parents are coming back tomorrow morning.

But all he can focus on right now is how breathtaking you look in that dress, the silver butterfly necklace hanging loosely from your neck when you lean over and brush your thumbs against his face, smoothing over his cheeks. The dirty clothes are quickly dropped back into the laundry basket as he caves, hurrying to help you pack a picnic basket and then rushing to open the front door of his BMW for you.

Turns out, you sneak a bit of cherry wine into the mix, making him tipsy off of the sweet alcholic beverage mingling in his mouth, whilst he's simultaneously getting drunk off of your giggles at all his dirty jokes. He stops drinking before he gets fully drunk, of course, but the pleasant buzz in his mind continues as you straddle him, equally as tipsy as him.

"I love you so much, Steve." you mumble into his skin, arms wrapping around his neck, lazy smile painting your face. Steve swears he can feel his brain melt at that admission, stomach so full with love and fingertips buzzing with electricity, it hurts to look straight at you due to the sunlight but he still does so with a goofy grin.

"I love you even more, baby."

The last night before his parents' return is then spent not on catching up on the rest of his duties, but lost to cuddling sessions on the couch as a boring rom-com drones on in the background. His hands can't help but trace your figure teasingly, thumbs dipping underneath your shorts, the gesture tickling against your skin as you giggle and bat at his chest.

"Stop, Stevie." you joke, making Steve look up from where he's pressing kisses down onto your exposed shoulders.

"Not a chance, love. I'm addicted to you." he groans, shifting to sit you up right against his chest. You raise your eyebrows at that.

"Addicted? What am I, a drug?" you tease.

"Even worse." he mumbles, coarse lips ghosting alongside your jaw. "You're all I think about and can ever think about."

A harsh sound - the house telephone perched on the opposite wall ringing - fills the living room and you quirk your head sideways, amused at how Steve doesn't seem phased at all.

"Don't you wanna get that? It might be your parents, after all."

He's not even listening to you, head drawn downwards, fingers gripping at your waist with a lustful smile to match. His irises are glazed over, chest heavy with infatuation - the air feels sickly sweet and heavy to him, intoxicated to be in your presence.

"Let it ring." he insists. He flips you underneath him in an instant, the laugh bubbling from your throat quickly morphing into a moan when his kisses begin to get more aggressive.

"I'm more focused on... something else, if you get what I mean." he lowly teases, starting to tug your shirt over your neck.

Steve wakes the next morning, startled and disoriented, to the sound of his parents' car pulling back into the driveway, accompanied by the yelling of his father to come downstairs. His sleepy mind is still stuck in the crevices of his dreamlike state - your warm legs entangled with his, head resting against his chest as he pulls your scantily clad body closer to him - as he begrudgingly forces himself to sit upright, pulling a shirt over his naked torso.

He looks back at you one last time, still sleeping and head peacefully resting against his pillows, before walking downstairs to meet his parents' fury.

"Did you manage to get the tasks done?" his father fusses, examining the living room with a critical eye. His father is clearly unhappy with the mess you two have left: the blanket draped over the two of you from last night still messily strewn over the sofa, paper plates stained with pizza grease peeking out from the trash can, your borrowed shirt still on the floor (which Steve is quick to pick back up with a reddened face).

"I uh... sort of."

"Sort of?"

"I meant to." Steve starts off slowly, before his eyes fall back onto the shirt in his hands and a smile appears on his face instinctively. "Then I got distracted."

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

Steve's work hours are from nine to six, with a late start on Fridays from ten to seven. He doesn't mind working at Family Video, he might even say he actually likes it - Robin's great company (he can't complain about having his co-worker also be his best friend) and the constant rotation of new media and customers keeps him on his toes.

Steve's always been a diligent worker too. Rises at eight, has breakfast, brushes his teeth, swings his bag over his shoulder and makes the drive across town to get to work precisely on time. His track record is precise, he gets along with all the customers, he doesn't cause too many issues for either Robin or their boss.

That was at least the case, until he fell in love with you.

Steve tries to resist you come every Sunday - he knows he has a full week of work ahead and that if he goes to bed any time later than 11, he'll be yawning and stumbling around like a zombie from the fatigue. But you're dangerous when you call him up at night, voice dripping with honey and maple sugar, he can practically visualize you with your legs hanging in the air as you dangle off of the edge of your bed.

"I'm bored, Stevie." you sigh into the phone.

Clutching the phone receiver closer to his ear, Steve only smirks at that, imagining your cute face scrunch up in annoyance as you complain about your Sunday night boredom.

"I'm sorry to hear that, angel, but I really should go to bed early." he gently coaxes you, but you only huff on the other line. The sound of fabric shifting underneath your figure rings out as you readjust your posture on your bed.

"I know, just... I miss you, it's all."

"Aw baby I miss you too." he coos, wishing he could be by your side right now. "Why don't you ask Nancy to come over? She's taking tomorrow off, I heard."

He hears you rustling through your belongings in the background before you respond, this time with a chirpier voice.

"Oh actually, it's fine! I remember Eddie saying we could hang out tonight if I wanted to."

Jealousy pricks at Steve's heart at an instant, needles poking against his skin, fiery liquid burning his veins.

"Eddie said that?" he chokes out. You don't seem to pick up on your boyfriend's shift in demeanor at the end of the line, only nodding and curling the phone chord between your upper fingers.

"Yeah, and I haven't seen him in a bit so maybe I could call him up. I still have the brownie batter from last weekend in the fridge so it'll be fun-"

Steve's vision flashes red at that - baking sessions are to be solely shared between you and him, he thinks. And the thought of Eddie Munson putting his hands on you (platonic or not), guiding your hands on the kitchen counter and wiping away spare chocolate from your lips the way Steve always does, makes him delirious with anger and jealousy.

"I'm coming over." he announces, already beginning to grab his jacket and keys. You frown from the other side, pulling away from the phone in momentary surprise before responding.

"Are you sure? If you're working tomorrow, it's fine, I can just call Eddie-" you start, only to be cut off again.

"NOPE. I'm coming over, it's final, no need to call Eddie." Steve rushes out. "Love you, see you soon."

Before you can even try to talk him out of it he hangs up, leaving you to stare at your ringing phone with amusement. True to his word, your flustered and out of breath boyfriend is waiting for you by your doorstep in less than fifteen minutes.

"Hi there." you tease, eyeing him up and down. His tense posture - clenched jaw, squared shoulders, anxious twiddling of his fingers by his sides - melts away the moment his eyes land on you in a lacy blue nightdress and pink socks.

Fuck, you look ethereal, he notes, the pale moonlight shining down onto your hair, kissing the top of your brows and carving shadows down your jaw.

"You were jealous, weren't you?" you tease, crossing your arms across your chest. You let out a gentle laugh at his bewildered expression. "You don't have to be, baby. Eddie's just a friend, if anything, he's like the annoying brother I've never had."

"Was not jealous." Steve mumbles, not even meeting your gaze as he shuffles into your house and shrugs off his jacket by your sofa. You suppress another laugh at that, his doelike eyes drawn downwards as if he's a puppy that's been kicked.

"Okay, you weren't jealous." you sarcastically comment, leaning against the sofa. He looks up at that, defensive.

"I wasn't!" the pitch of his voice comes out too high to be persuasive, forcing him to cough and attempt to purposefully lower his voice. "I was not jealous of Eddie."

Leaning forward slowly, you press a light kiss onto his lips - he still tastes like his mint toothpaste - and wiggle your eyebrows.

"Alright, handsome. Whatever you say."

He'd fight you, he really would, but he can't find it in himself to argue with you when the alternative is to be able to hug you from behind as you bake and make you laugh. In between separating the batter and organizing the kitchen mid-mess, Steve makes sure to sneak in a few photographs with his polaroid.

"I swear you're obsessed with that thing." you comment, pointing your wooden spoon at the polaroid sitting in Steve's palms. "Ever since I've gotten you that camera for your birthday, you haven't ever put it down."

Steve just hums at that, sly smile on his lips as he snaps another picture of you leaning over the open oven, the bright flash blinding you momentarily. When the photo pops out, Steve's fingers curl around the edges to shake it back and forth, before he examines the developing photograph with a wide smirk.

"What can I say, I just want to capture your beauty the best I can."

He jokes that he's coming for Jonathan's job as the photographer of the group, and you playfully roll your eyes and tell him that if he's trying to compete with Jonathan, he's doing a rotten job.

"You only ever take photos of me or of us together, babe." you remind him. You're correct, of course. Steve's wallet is overflowing with crammed polaroids of you laying on the sofa, reading the newspaper, sleeping - doing the most mundane and uninteresting things. Not that he cares, if anything, he argues that you look the most stunning during those times.

In fact, you even caught him showing off photos of you to his friends, who all smile at how adorable his infatuation with you is, whilst simultaneously dreading the repeated practice. You have to admit, it does give off a bit of the "old grandfather showing off photos of his grandchildren" vibes at times.

Once the brownies have finished baking, you carefully divide them up into neat squares, making sure to package few of them separately for Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, Joyce and Hopper. You beg Steve to join you by the rooftop to enjoy the rest and so he obviously obliges, exchanging caramel brownie kisses with you under the moonlight with a light blanket draped over both your laps.

"We should really get to bed." you try to reason, pulling away from his grasp, wary of his early start tomorrow. But Steve rolls his eyes at that, left hand coming to cup your chin again, pulling your lips right back against his.

"Another ten minutes."

You smile into the kiss, nodding.

"Another ten minutes."

Of course, with you, kisses are never ten minutes.

Hence why now he's doing the walk of shame into Family Video, arriving at 10.30 - a full hour and a half after his shift was supposed to start - with Robin leaning against the counter with an unimpressed expression on her face. She doesn't even need to question him at this point, considering you've walked into the store with him, smoothing over his hair with your fingers and waving at Robin as you've driven your boyfriend to work.

"Late night?" Robin smirks, noticing how you're having a bit of trouble walking. You laugh nervously as Steve blushes pink at his best friend's teasing, the dark marks decorating his neck a dead giveaway of what you two ended up doing last night.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Robin. I swear, I was trying to get him to sleep but he kept on insisting!" you say, making the brunette shake her head in response, amused grin quirking up her lips.

"You don't have to tell me twice, hun. Steve all but throws out all his responsibilities the moment you come into his peripheral."

Steve rolls his eyes, mouth open ready to defend himself, but he realizes that she kind of has a point. So he resigns to go off to the back room to change into his uniform, but not completely out of earshot from you and Robin.

"See, I was just going to call up Eddie since I knew Steve had work today morning, but Steve just hung up and showed up at my doorstep so I didn't have much of a choice." you recall, only making Robin's smirk widen as she shoots her best friend an amused look.

"Is that true, lover boy? Got jealous of Eddie Munson, the drug dealer obsessed with D&D?" she sing songs, clearly mocking him.

"Shut up." Steve grumbles out, tugging his work vest over his shoulders.

"You two together-" he points between the two of you, you leaning forward on the counter on your propped up arms and Robin standing up straight with her arms crossed, "are dangerous."

"You're just afraid that one day I'm gonna steal her. It's the least you can do to compensate me, with how many times you're coming in late these days." Robin jokes, placing an arm around your shoulder. You laugh again at that as Steve sighs, rubbing his forehead.

"I'm sorry, you can take Thursday and Friday off, how about that?" he tries to console, feeling bad for all his tardiness lately. His best friend chooses to simply hum in response, tapping her fingers against the counter in contemplation.

"I get Thursday and Friday off, and you pay for pizza night at (Y/n)'s next weekend." Robin counter-suggests.

Your boyfriend only huffs at that, flailing his arms around in frustration.

"WHAT? How is that any fair, technically my girlfriend is just as responsible for me being late as myself." he argues, gesturing to you emphatically.

"Not true, Stevie. I told you multiple times I could find someone else for the night and I also did tried to get you to sleep earlier repeatedly." you remind him, giving him a knowing glance.

"Yeah, Harrington, don't try to change the subject. It's not her fault that you're like, obsessed with her." Robin adds, poking Steve in the shoulder.

Unable to handle the teasing further, he relents, shaking his head in defeat.

"Okay, okay. Thursday and Friday off, and I'll pay for pizza night next week."

"Great! I'll see you later, yeah?" you ask, kissing Steve on the cheek. You don't get even more than a few feet away from the counter before he's pulling you backwards by your wrist, liplocking you into a harsh kiss that leaves your lips buzzing and head fuzzy.

"See you later, love."

He watches you leave with infatuation clouding his vision, head still swimming with the taste of your lips. Robin has to physically shake him awake, an exasperated look on her face.

"Come on, Harrington. You don't want to even more late to work, do you?"

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

Steve's never seen without you these days. The kids have gotten used to seeing you by the front seat of his BMW, grinning at them through the window as Steve is there on "pickup duty" - be that from the arcade, the library or school.

There's a light breeze passing through the park today, the summer sun far too nice to pass up a day outside. Erica and Lucas are racing each other on their bikes, Mike's engaged in a casual conversation with Will by the swing set, then you and Max are standing by the walkway with her skateboard.

You're watching intently as the redhead flawlessly hops onto the skateboard in front of you, before jumping up into the air, kicking the board up into a minor flip and landing down onto the pavement safely. Your eyes widen in awe, quickly clapping afterwards, causing the girl's cheeks to turn as red as her hair.

"You have to teach me!" you insist.

"I'm not sure if I'd be a good teacher." Max shyly responds, scratching her neck. You wave her off.

"You'd be fantastic, Max! But only if you want to teach me, of course. I'm sure if I'm learning from you I'll be a pro in no time."

Dustin is stealing another handful of grapes from the picnic basket, sneaking looks in between where you're standing and then to Steve, who has the most dorky smile on his face as he admires you from afar whilst leaning against a large willow tree.

"You're so fucking whipped for her, it's sickening." Dustin comments, causing the older boy to look down at him, black rimmed sunglasses sliding down the bridge of Steve's nose at the action.

"Staring at my girlfriend is not a crime, Henderson." he reminds the younger boy, shoving him lightly in the shoulder. Dustin only huffs at that, straightening his shirt and dusting off his shoulders.

"Sure, but you bring her everywhere with you and you lose all your common sense when she's around."

"Nuh uh, do not." Steve defends himself, sitting up straight. Dustin pokes his tongue out, teasing him.

"Uh huh, you do."

"Do not."

"You do."

"What are we arguing about, boys?" you ask, sitting back down across them, breathless smile on your face. Your wet lips part and wrap around a lemonade bottle, and Steve swears he's never seen a more angelic sight than one of you in a tank top and levi jeans, sunlight accentuating your delighted features.

"Just about how Steve brings you to like, everything, and is obsessed with you and how sickening it is." the curly haired boy slyly comments, biting into a piece of toast. You fake your smile dropping at that, looking down in faux sadness.

"Oh... Sorry, would you prefer if I stop coming to these things?"

Steve hides his amused smile at that, watching Dustin's eyes widen in alarm.

"W-what?"

You drag out your sigh, sadly trailing your finger up and down the picnic mat.

"I know that Steve used to be the only one picking you guys up or bringing you to the park... If I'm ruining all your plans with Steve, I'm happy to no longer come-"

"NO, NO, NO! Oh my god, (Y/n), that's totally not what I meant." Dustin hurriedly explains, speaking so fast that bread crumbs are falling everywhere. "We love having you around, seriously Max and Lucas will kick me in the shins if you stop showing up for these things, I was just making fun of Steve and how much he loves you, it's actually kinda sweet and I was just joking-"

You and Steve both laugh at that point, the dam breaking as you both throw your head back, causing Dustin's expression to morph into one of confusion. Pausing, you brush your hand over Dustin's curls, gently patting him on the head.

"I know, bub. I was just joking, that's all."

Dustin splutters at that, before pouting his lips forward.

"Oh, come on, that was just evil, (Y/n)." he grumbles.

"Aw, I'm sorry Dusty. But I'm always happy to show up to these things, so long as you're all happy to have me."

He looks up at you, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

"I mean, yeah. You're cool. In fact, too cool to be dating this one." he says, pointing to Steve, who raises his eyebrows in mock offense.

"Watch it, Henderson."

Dustin runs off at the sound of Lucas and Erica calling him over, standing over their parked bikes, leaving you to stare at the gorgeous face of your boyfriend's.

"The kids all love you." he comments, his cold fingers brushing over your warm hands. "A bit too much, I think. I'm starting think you're the resident babysitter, not me."

Leaning in close, so close that he can count the individual droplets of water adorning your hair, you shake your head sideways in denial.

"Nah, I don't think that's possible." you pause for dramatic effect. "I think that'll always be Nancy."

"You little-" he starts, pretending to be burnt by your betrayal.

Giggling, you pull away, already beginning to make a run for it towards the kids when Steve all but (carefully) pummels into you, pinning you against the nearest tree. Hands tickling your waist, he steadies your body beneath his, amused grin decorating his lips.

"Apologize, babe." he commands.

"Mmm... I don't know..." you trail off, pretending to be conflicted.

"Apologize or I won't kiss you." he threatens, which only makes you chuckle.

"That's an empty threat, Stevie. We both know that if anyone's going to be more kiss deprived, it's you."

"That's true!" Erica shouts from the background, making your smile only widen.

"Damn those smart ass kids." he swears, letting you back down. You smooth a hand over his forehead and wink at him.

"Don't worry, babe. You're still the resident babysitter."

"Lovebirds!"

You perk up at the sound of Nancy's voice before running over to quickly hug your friend, leaving Jonathan to replace your absence, standing next to Steve with his right hand fiddling with his camera.

"Are we still good for tomorrow?" Jonathan questions, shooting Steve a nonchalant glance. Steve only frowns at that, mind blanking.

"Uh... what's happening tomorrow?"

"Seriously?" the dark haired boy questions, raising his eyebrows. "You volunteered to helped me with my photography assignment, you know, the one for the local newspaper? We've literally talked about this two days ago."

"Oh, right! Yeah, sorry, I just uh..." Steve fumbles for an excuse, truthfully having totally forgotten about his plans for tomorrow.

"It's (Y/n), isn't it?" Jonathan quips, cocking his head towards where you're standing. He laughs at Steve's obvious embarrassment, Steve's eyes suddenly looking away as his ears turn red. "Robin was right, you're hopeless when you're around her."

Thankfully, their conversation is cut off short by the sound of your footsteps alongside Nancy's approaching, allowing Steve to instead focus on how warm your arm feels around his waist as you bury your head into his neck. Rubbing his hands up and down your back, he glares at Nancy and Jonathan who wiggle their eyebrows from behind you, clearly teasing him.

They're all right, Steve supposes. His parents, Robin, the kids, Nancy and Jonathan - to point out that you've turned his life upside down. He's been falling behind on his house tasks, showing up late to work, and forgetting his plans with his friends.

You're going to be the death of him.

Especially with the way you're now whining against his skin, asking him oh-so-sweetly if he wants to have dinner tonight at the diner off the 45 with the good milkshakes.

Steve knows that actually, his parents want him back home by five today, but he decides then and there that they can wait. Dinners with you will always come first, to hell with whatever snarky comments his parents might throw at him afterwards.

Alas, you're good for his heart but bad for business.

a/n: I know I literally just posted another Sabrina song fic after 'tornado warnings' for Eddie like less than a week ago but I COULDN'T resist, I'm still obsesed with emails I can't send and this song is so fucking cute a fluff fic had to be written around it.

Hope y'all like this one, I know the structure was a bit unusual but I loved how it turned out personally :)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #steve harrington #1k #2k #3k

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 4 months

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can i request a conrad fisher fic with ‘santa doesn’t know you like i do’ by sabrina carpenter? thank u smsm i love ur writing

I've been loving Sabrina Carpenter at the moment, thank you for the idea anon <3 It fits right with an idea I had in my list!

Warnings: mention of losing a parent (Susannah)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Dressed in a red sweater and sparkly skirt, you were about to head to your aunt’s house for Christmas dinner. But just as you were reaching for your coat, you saw Jeremiah’s name on your phone screen. A frown formed between your eyebrows as you answered.

‘’Hello?’’

‘’Are you with Conrad?’’

He sounded worried through the phone. You could feel the prayer for a positive answer in his voice, which made your frown deepen.

‘’No. Why?’’

‘’He didn’t come home. He said he would. He promised Dad— He’s not answering my texts or picking up my calls.’’

‘’Maybe he got held back at college because of the snow?’’

Jeremiah denied that supposition. ‘’I don’t think so. I called his roommate at Brown and he said he left last night.’’

‘’Maybe he went to Laurel’s? He’s talked about going to Pennsylvania this winter break.’’

‘’I already called her. We don’t know where he is. He hasn’t talked to anyone in the last few weeks. You’re the only one he talks to. That’s why I thought he might have been with you.’’

A heavy pause hung in the air as you recalled your and Conrad’s last conversations, trying to find a clue of where he was. He talked about finals and living off coffee and cup-o-noodles and how excited he was to eat a home-cooked meal, even if it was mashed potatoes or chicken that wasn’t in a nugget form. The sweater he got Jeremiah for Christmas. His roommate. His mom and the bike he got her last Christmas. It’s still in the garage, at the exact place she left it.

‘’I think I might know where he is,’’ you said.

It was a wild guess, but it was Conrad’s comfort place.

‘’Where?’’ Jeremiah's urgency echoed through the phone.

You shook your head although he couldn’t see. ‘’I’m sorry Jeremiah, but I think it’s best if I go by myself. I’ll call you when I get there.’’

⁂

Armed with your double espresso, you braved through the snowy roads and drove to Cousins. It was a wild guess, but you were confident enough that he was there. It was the place he went to every time he wanted to be with his mom again. That house was Susannah all over. She had handpicked everything that was inside, painted all the paintings on the walls, and placed every little trinket just the way she wanted.

Your family was disappointed that you had to cancel dinner at the last minute, but if Conrad was at the beach house, you couldn’t leave him alone. No one should spend Christmas alone. Especially not after losing a parent.

Propped and clipped to your car’s air vents, your phone screen showed several texts from Jeremiah, all trying to get more information about Conrad. You ignored them all and focussed on the road and taking the right directions.

After three hours, you finally arrived to Cousins. The small town was dark. Most small shops were closed — it was almost 11pm —, barely any houses were decorated for Christmas as most residents only came for the summer.

You pulled in the familiar driveway and parked your car. A light layer of snow coated the grounds, allowing the grass to peek through. The air was crisp, and you could see your breath as you walked up to the porch.

Using the spare key that was hidden under the doormat, you unlocked the door and let yourself in. It was dark and cold as the power was not turned on outside the summer months. The air was a bit stale too from being inhabited.

As you ventured further into the entryway, you could see light coming from the living room — the fireplace. Using that light to guide you, you called Conrad’s name. He had to be there. If he wasn’t, someone else was in the Fishers’ beach house.

The tension in your shoulders dropped when you saw him asleep on the couch, a thick plaid over his curled up body. He looked so small like this. You got closer and gently said his name, not wanting to startle him. Conrad was a light sleeper. He stirred, slowly waking, a mixture of surprise and sadness in his eyes when he saw you.

‘’What are you doing here?’’ Conrad asked, noticing your skirt and sheer tights. He knew it was Christmas eve. You should be with your family, not in Cousins.

‘’Jeremiah called me, he was worried,’’ you explained briefly.

‘’How did you know I was here? I didn’t tell anyone...’’

No one knew Conrad like you did. You were there through the good and the bad — and there was a lot of this bad this past year. You were the one who had brushed his tears at his mother’s funerals. You knew all of his favorite songs and picked up every time he called regardless of the time. You always knew just how to make him laugh.

You sat on the edge of the couch, giving your best friend a soft look. ‘’No one knows you like I do.’’

The smallest smile curled on his lips. ‘’I’m glad you’re here,’’ he admitted, a veil of tears in his eyes. ‘’I thought I wanted to be alone, but it makes me miss her more.’’

Your heart broke and you pulled him in your arms.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1 @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis@Shasta89 @sierraluvz @specialk6802 @CZARINERA @katherinejess @cookielovesbooks-akie

TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777 @nomorespahgetti @lomlolivia @5sosbands @bloodyhw @depthsofdespairr @a-band-aid-for-your-heart @gilbertscurls @brandirouse86 @leilani-nichole @bloody-mf-bsc @papayaboyluvr @bchindureyes @bellysbeach @slytherinambitious @darylscvmdumpster @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @foockingasshole @straberryshortcake143 @luiise @sickntiredtoo @adrluvh @mymultiveres @Rosekar16 @hopeurokays @amysangrl @hopelessromantic727 @beth-gallagher22 @lonelywitchv2 @arinexeisnotworking @cloudrainy342 @theflcwer @alllriseabove @angelxxrose @angelxxrose-blog @r1vrsefx @sierraluvzz @rodriqos @cruzgrecia @evelestrange @aesthetixhoe

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x reader #the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty

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mlbfemslashfebruary · 4 months

Text

Miraculous Ladybug Femslash February 2024 is here…!

I tried to include most female characters in these ship lists, including some newer characters from Season 5.

All main girls get at least one or two pairs, but some are more popular in this chart than others. Once again, f/f starring older female characters are double-booked to allow more pairings.

Rules:

• Any fanart, fic, playlist, or edit is welcomed in this event. Just tag your work #mlbfemslashfebruary or @ this blog so your work can be reblogged here!

• You don’t have to follow all the key words or ships for each day, they’re just prompts to help the creative process.

• If you have another femslash pairing you want to write over a certain day’s theme, go ahead! This includes creating content for poly femslash ships.

• Please no male characters or m/m ships that are genderbended. Male characters and slash ships get much more attention in fandom spaces than female characters and femslash ships. This event is supposed to help elevate femslash content, which is much rarer in fandom (and especially lacking in Miraculous Ladybug outside of a small handful of ships.)

• This event is meant to be for romantic pairings, but you can also write platonic or queerplatonic interpretations.

• No NSFW content will be reblogged for this event, but can still be created and posted on your own time.

...

Below is also a written out list of the prompts, for accessibility purposes and in case the image is too hard to see.

[Image ID: A calendar for February 2024 filled with prompts for Miraculous Ladybug Femslash February 2024. Each day has two prompt words and one f/f pairing, with some days instead having two f/f pairings to showcase adult women f/f.

Day 1

• Warm • Lipstick

Marinette/Kagami

Day 2

• Lovely • Blush

Aurore/Ondine

Day 3

• Wicked • Mascara

Juleka/Zoe

OR Olympia/Barbara

Day 4

• Fixed • Shirt

Kagami/Zoe

OR Emilie/Nathalie

Day 5

• Equip • Sweater

Alya/Sabrina

Day 6

• Method • Jacket

Chloe/Alya

Day 7

• Succinct • Jeans

Zoe/Fei

Day 8

• Lonely • Skirt

Marinette/Chloe

Day 9

• Successful • Shorts

Ondine/Kagami

Day 10

• Hold • Dress

Juleka/Rose

OR Amelie/Nathalie

Day 11

• Mercy • Classical

Kagami/Alya

OR Miss Bustier/Gisele

Day 12

• Lucky • Jazz

Alya/Lila

Day 13

• Belong • Pop

Chloe/Sabrina

Day 14

FREE SLOT

Day 15

• Faulty • Rock

Marinette/Lila

Day 16

• Enthusiasm • Hip-hop

Aeon/Alya

Day 17

• Brave • Country

Rose/Mylene

OR Miss Bustier/Ms. Mendeleiev

Day 18

• Learned • Lightning

Kagami/Chloe

OR Anarka/Penny

Day 19

• Giddy • Fire

Alya/Zoe

Day 20

• Beautiful • Ice

Chloe/Lila

Day 21

• Trace • Earth

Zoe/Mylene

Day 22

• Quaint • Air

Marinette/Zoe

Day 23

• Indoor • Light

Aurore/Mireille

Day 24

• Atmosphere • Water

Juleka/Marinette

OR Anarka/Claudie

Day 25

• Gentle • Hear

Kagami/Juleka

OR Nora/Clara Nightingale

Day 26

• Idea • Taste

Alya/Marinette

Day 27

• Redeem • See

Chloe/Alix

Day 28

• Lament • Touch

Zoe/Jess

Day 29

• Scrape • Smell

Marinette/Socqueline

End Image ID]

#mlbfemslashfebruary #femslash february #femslash #miraculous ladybug #f/f #fandom event #wlw #prompt list #image id #event

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moremaybank · 5 months

Text

NAUGHTY OR NICE ! ౨ৎ

merry (early) christmas, my loves! as some of you already know, i'm doing a holiday event this year inspired by my christmas playlist! feel free to send in some asks from the activities below! i'm planning on posting the holiday-related fics (both smut and fluff) starting december 18th, as to ensure that i've completed all of my four thousand celebration works before then! so send in whatever festive asks and prompts you'd like, even if they aren't included in the prompt lists down below. i love you all and i'm so excited to see what y'all send in!

writing for jj maybank, rafe cameron, sarah cameron, steve harrington, eddie munson, klaus mikaelson, kol mikaelson, rebekah mikaelson, & kai parker

OPEN TO ANYONE ! ASKS OPEN !

NOW PLAYING...

🎧 CHRISTMAS EVE ⋆ Justin Bieber

NEXT IN QUEUE...

🎁 ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU ⋆ Mariah Carey

send me a holiday fluff request! prompts

🌟 A NONSENSE CHRISTMAS ⋆ Sabrina Carpenter

send me a holiday smut request! prompts

❄️ WINTER THINGS ⋆ Ariana Grande

winter ask games! send me a winter themed ask either from this list or one you come up with your own!

🎄 CHRISTMAS TREE FARM ⋆ Taylor Swift

recommend a christmas song that i should add to my playlist!

🧣 UNDERNEATH THE TREE ⋆ Kelly Clarkson

let’s talk christmas movies! send me one and i’ll rate it from 1-10 and give my ‘lil two cents on it!

BONUS TRACK !

☃️ LAST CHRISTMAS ⋆ Wham!

tell me some things that are on your christmas wish list this year, or about plans you have for winter break! inspire me to go out and have a life this christmas season 🤍

tagging some mutual loves: @slut4drudy @drewstarkeysbae @rafesthroatbaby @rafesveryrealgf @rafesmuse @jjsbank444 @jjmaybanksgun @jjmaybankisbae @rafetopia @amournoir @perseephoneee @moon-in-nostalgia @ghostlyfleur @tinyluvs @venuslore @cal-flakes @emmalandry @rafeysbafey @cantstoptheimagines @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @slvttyfied @surftrips @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rafescokewhore @lyndys @glen-powells @eventualoptimism @rafestar @mvybanks @sweetestdesire @pankowperfection @pankowcreampie @forevermoreharrington @urbestieboo @lizcameron @messylustt @iheartcass @blueicequeen19

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camelots-rose · 8 days

Text

Decide to make a list of headcannons that are cannon to my fics, primarily focused on Chloé

Adrien and Sabrina had a rivalry with each other about which one was Chloé's best friend for a couple of years before the start of the series, Chloé is completely oblivious of this fact to this day.

Sabrina was the one to get Adrien and Chloé into Anime.

Sabrina is REALLY good at playing the drums, like professional rockstar level good. Meanwhile, Chloe can not sing to save her life, and she's well aware of that fact but pretends not to be solely to mess with Adrien and Sabrina.

Chloé is a natural prodigy when it comes to archery and could have been competing professionally times the start of the series had Audrey not discourage the hobby for not being "exceptional"

Chloé is sort of friends with Nino, due to Adrien constantly inviting him to hang out with them

Chloe is a massive nerd regarding the Knights of the Round Table. She picked up the interest due to Emilie frequently using them as a bedtime story anytime she and Adrien had a sleepover at his place when they were little.

#ml headcanons #chloe bourgeois #chloé bourgeois #sabrina raincomprix #adrien ageste #ml #miraculous ladybug #ml chloe

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prettyinpink350 · 5 months

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❄️Candy cane lane❄️

(iPhones don’t have the candy cane emoji I swear they used too but whatever)

☃️⛄️Holiday fic!!!! Happy holidays everyone!🩵

Alpha Steve!rogers x omega!reader, CEO!Steve rogers x secretary!reader, Boss!steve rogers x employee!reader.

Some warnings will not be listed because the fic is not finished yet and I don’t know if there are any specific ones that I will need to add so be aware! (This list will be most of the warnings but just in case I’m letting you know because there might be one or two warnings that might pop up in the fic or in the real fics warnings but it might not be in this list)

Warnings: (minor spoilers, lighter topics/warnings are listed at the top and the father down the more graphic or sexual) readers body type or any physical characteristics/ features (like race) are not included or mentioned! This fic is for everyone except minors!!!!!!!!!! Fluff, Cuss words, boss employee relationship, hugging, holding hands, yelling, reader and Steve celebrate Christmas but no talks of religion!Steve gets angry at one point, other male attention that is not from Steve! Possessive behavior, slight obsession towards reader, Smut!: male masturbation, slight daddy kink, alpha x omega, biting (claiming), breeding, talk of having children! spanking, reader takes on a more submissive role, rough sex, p in v sex, condom is not used, reader is not on birth control, pussy slapping, breast play, oral sex (female receiving) ball play (reader plays with Steve balls) , more to be added I believe 🫣😬

The sings that got me in the holiday mood to write this 🤲💁‍♀️

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inafieldofdaisies · 5 months

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WIP Wednesday | This one is different and no doubt would be long but there are important things to address

This midweek we're talking about as Joseph would say, the snakes in our garden(s), or one snake, depending on how willing you're to believe those two people have just met and are so similar, that everything they do is just a big coincidence and not actual blantant stealing of ideas.

I was first faced with the accounts on Novemeber 13th, two follows at once early in the morning, I didn't think much of it, happy I was getting FC5 mutuals in my notifications instead of bots. I followed them back and got on with my day until late that night I began to notice the first patterns of both accounts potentially being run by the same person when their posts began popping up on my dash. There were mistakes, ways of behaving when posting that stood out to me and would no doubt stand out to you as well as you examine all the things I've managed to gather (I won't exactly be pointing out some tells because as far as I can tell they're not aware of them and I refuse to teach them how to scam people better next time). Months back and ever since really I've been dealing with someone I will not be naming in this post, who was consistently targeting my ideas - from stealing paragraphs and inserting them in their fic to moving onto copying smaller things once I caught their sampling, which then escalated to them literally renaming their already established OC into Sabrina once they believed I wasn't paying attention to them anymore.

The same methods I noticed within those accounts, starting with @ladyofedensgate-xo posting a new FC5 OC reveal that evening with Alycia Debnam-Carey, a character by the name of Harper Montgomery (remember that name). After the whole rename thing and suddenly days later being followed by two new similar to each other accounts, one that was out of nowhere picking the exact face claim I have for the leading heroine of my WIP gave me a pause, made me look deeper into the profiles. Both had no prior activity before November, followed the same list of people, a huge chunk of my mutuals and people I would mention in my tag list for games and writing posts. There were multiple things popping out as behaviour, posting and formatting that inevitably led to me blocking both, suspecting the person that had previously stolen from me was making a return under new identity.

Then me and some mutuals got to talking, turns out, this isn't the first time those 'two' people had infiltrated a fandom and began introducing OCs that would resemble other people's or went as far as to copy things from others. Last time they went by @little-wolf-seed and @ladyofedens-blog, claiming they were two sisters and they were being stolen from, only for both to delete their accounts shortly before the new ones debuted. History does repeat, one of the accounts (same @ladyofedensgate-xo) was deactivated by the next day, November 14, only for a new one to emerge immediately, a carbon copy of its predecessor: @angelofdarkness-things. I got a follow from them again, immediately sending them to blocked, while still keeping an eye out for what was happening.

My attention was grabbed by a Pinterest link AngelOfDarkness had in her pinned post, leading to boards upon boards of OCs (I'm taking large numbers) ready to be deployed, potential back-ups if they get caugh and have to start a new. All boards were created at the same time, with two Pinterest profiles only following each other: breannamarie1220 and alexisdawn10206 (Again they'd go as far as to make posts about just now becoming friends and AOD offering to write for Red Queen and how we should all take that offer, cementing the claim they're different people. Now, I ask: have you ever seen two different people, strangers have pretty much the exact same accounts when it comes to appearance?)

I begin looking at each board, frowning at awful casting choices and race swaps of canon characters, only to be faced with multiple names of my own characters being split and shuffled around and multiple of my faceclaims (those they could figure out) appearing as their to-be-debuted OCs. A list, that would be followed by screenshots (and just in case, either of the them decides to suddenly start changing faceclaims after this post or deleting: everything has been documented, so don't expect a swift exit like last time, or people easily forgetting you).

Sabrina Donovan | by faceclaim: originally they had Alycia casted as a Maya McCoy (last name sounds familiar? Maybe because they literally separated another mutual's Deputy's name in two to give to their characters), only for it to be moved to a Valerie Montgomery (Montgomery again. HM) in the early morning hours today.

Mercedes Sibley | by faceclaim (or what they deemed close enough to her actual fc) given to a Jazmine Stone, a lookalike model by the handle emblu was picked to drive confusion, imo.

Oliver McKenzie | BY NAME and FACECLAIM: now here it gets hilariously bad - they actually mashed Oliver with John's last name prior to joining the project (Duncan) -> Oliver Duncan (Oliver McKenzie debuted as a character in my AU of John Seed as John Duncan). Dylan Riley has been given the face of Boyd Holbrook (Ollie's fc).

Leslie Parish | by faceclaim to an Adam Lancaster.

Oakley Moore | on October 26th I announced her full name Oakley Elizabeth Moore and how her nickname is Lizzie -> Lizzie Palmer in a board. At one point they shared an edit of an Oakley lookalike , for once not tagging an OC (which is unusual for them), so I won't be shocked if she gets casted next as the 'newest OC they can't wait to introduce'.

Smaller characters that are reoccuring in my wips: Both of John's closest Chosen: Mathias Bennett (last name for two characters for each Pinterest account, one is misspelled, which they often do to claim it's not the same name) and Brother Wyatt (first name) -> Wyatt Reed; Both of John's named clients, one is Owen Montgomery (both of his names picked like apples, Montgomery again. HM.) -> Harper/Valerie Montgomery and Owen Palmer. The character that drives the AU and John is in charge of defending: Nathaniel Mooney (even listed as character on my AO3) -> into Nathaniel Graham.

I've noticed MULTIPLE MUTUAL'S OCs NAMES also being ripped off on some scale (so my advice would be to check out the boards yourself), @socially-awkward-skeleton had her Chosen OC Caleb Winters pretty much stolen: exact faceclaim -> Kaleb Rhodes (is he a Kardashian? Now, that would be an interesting headcanon.)

Honestly, at this point, a better question would be which OCs they didn't get to... and the weird creepy behavior continued with saving headcanons into boards (Mer's white dog, Oliver's K9, Sabrina's entire aesthetic, her tattoo - exactly two butterflies, which are everywhere you look - in bios, names, board titles). Having Sabrina's nickname her father had for her and would literally call her in every single one of her memories (Monkey) -> Monkey in their bio only to edit out both the butterflies and Monkey just a couple of hours ago (did you realize you're a carbon copy of your alt Pinterest or? "A strawberry shall fix it! Fool 'em.", she told herself.)

Then the situation only got worse and up the creep-o-meter.

I was notified of something concerning by @adelaidedrubman , who earlier had also been followed both on her main and side blog she uses for reblogs: After getting a strange ghost notification on an blog she doesn't even use and has no activity on, let alone that many followers, she can only see 4 of the 7 people following her. Unblocking the previously mentioned shady accounts, she gets this:

Somehow, both had discovered an account out of use and followed it. An account belonging to the person they had previously followed and been blocked by.

I truly personally believe they still watch my blog and what I post (which btw, whatever your name is: if only you put that much effort into writing your own fics and coming up with characters, headcanons and names instead of stalking multiple mutuals in hunt for ideas...).

Once I finally decided to update my pinned post on my blog with new gifs (which take hours to edit sometimes) of Sabrina, they suddenly pinned a snapshot of one of the exact same gifs to their Valerie Montgomery board. Hours later they reblog the other gif they could find and CHANGE THEIR LAYOUT TO MATCH SABRINA'S SIDEBLOG-> Alycia in the icon and butterfly in the header (my header has been up since April 25, I made it specifically for her blog). Both icon and banner are now changed, one could only ask why even select the previous ones to begin with, if not to fuck with a person you've been targetting.

Now we move onto how they describe their OCs as headcanons, who one of them loves to tag with "Do Not Steal" (Who's stealing here, honey boo? None of us that you've set your sights on have given you any type of permission since you make it a big deal to have it). Little examples in the screenshots below, they have snippets for other characters too, so chances are someone would recogize their blorbo being put in a wig and renamed.

As I'm writing this post, Alycia is still a faceclaim to Valerie (tomorrow she might be moved to a third faceclaim with how they've been behaving), they constantly change things around (despite claiming they have this clear idea of their OCs) and act like they're being stolen from by tagging everything with "no stealing", deleting posts that could make them look suspicious (including the ones I've pointed out of the gifs featuring Alycia and matching my own edits of the scene), taking claim of simple headcanons like Jacob owning a cabin and horses being ridden in Montana, while also mass-following mutuals from multiple fandoms like FC5, COD, Mortal Combat, RDR2, the list goes on and on. They're looking for a place to take root, the next person to leech from. If you're tagged in this, they follow you (and they have been picking OCs names from people they've followed before) and your content, ideas, characters identity might be next on their list of OCs they gather as pokemons. Beware and if they do deactivate after this... well, it won't be as easy to disappear this time around.

To the two Swipers that can't stop swiping: Don't mistake the kindness of the fandom(s) and its people for encouragement to be shady and turn people's happy places into hell. True intentions shine through with time, you can sense when someone deeply loves their characters and when they only push them out like they're on a conveyor belt to gain exposure and false validation for someone else's creativity. This is something you both can't fake, no matter how many times you reemerge as a new person.

In Jacksfilms' wise words, "Stop Stealing."

@corvosattano @florbelles @cassietrn @voidika @theelderhazelnut @onehornedbeast @direwombat @jillvalentinesday @henbased @madparadoxum @josephslittledeputy @trench-rot @g0dspeeed @redreart @purplehairsecretlair @laindtt @mrdekarios @nightbloodbix @simplegenius042 @aceghosts @stacispratt @clicheantagonist @wrathfulrook @strafethesesinners @strangefable @unholymilf @josephseedismyfather @shellibisshe @macs-babies

#as I was adding tags... lo and behold; it's another deactivated sock account #everything I said still stands. this post shall welcome you as you emerge from under your rock B. You're not sneaky.#honestly mixing Oliver's name with John's is such a weird choice...#fc5 fandom #far cry 5 fandom #call out post #rant incoming

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fbfh · 2 years

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you're mine (and I'm yours) - scott mccall x witch!mate!reader hcs

wc: 4k

genre: soulmate au sort of, lowkey a sabrina the teenage witch au (hilda and zelda are your aunts) bc I'm in my 90s witchy whimsigothic era,

summary: trying to balance your newly realized powers as a young witch with a social life and starting at a new school is a lot to handle, and you're thrown for a huge curveball when the hot werewolf on the lacrosse team forms a mate bond with you, dragging both of you into each others secret worlds

warnings: not proof read, some predator/prey dynamics bc scott is a literal werewolf, scott realizes he's being kind of creepy towards you but you can tell he's not human so you get it yk, you pass out bc you're a tad overwhelmed, scott is very posessive, scott is very clingy, scott is so fucking down bad for you, implied size difference (specifically he has bigass hands), astral projection/eavesdropping through dreams, awkward mate talk with Derek and Scott, mention of future conversations about ruts but otherwise sfw, your Aunt Hilda and Salem both make dog jokes at Scott but he takes them in stride, I think that's it??

song rec: we belong together - ritchie valens, wereowl - sj tucker, wolf bite - owl city, head over feet - alanis morissette, also here's an outfit but it's totally optional lmao

a/n: had this in the works for a while!! It spiraled out of control lol,, I was debating using this as an outline but it's already pretty long and I'm coming out of a slump so I'll take what I can get lol but if yall like this def expect more of scott x whimsigothic witch reader bc I have SO many ideas lol ALSO for your consideration chris flemming's take on witch summer, and scott introduces himself to you like skunk from a diy basement show ((also tagging people on the movie/tv show au tag list and the omegaverse tag list bc of the genre so if you don't know why you're getting tagged in a teen wolf fic that's why lol))

@yesv01 @almostjollypizza @fictionalcomforts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @urmum-xoxo @raajali3 @paige-creates @lubsana @demirunner @almostjollypizza @mystic-writings @babiesimagines @lizziebitch33 @jacksondeeznuts @hopefullhearts @justbookworm @Asunnyhunny @cowboylikekelsey

You and your family have always been somewhat quiet, kept to yourselves

In spite of some family members more… flashy joie de vivre

And in spite of the fact that you’re all at least a little eccentric

You really do try to keep to yourselves

You just want a chill, peaceful existence

You’re not looking for trouble

Do no harm take no shit kind of energy

A lot of this is due to the fact that almost everyone in your family are witches

You have a cousin who’s a sorcerer that lives out in tallahassee

But besides that

You’re pretty much all witches

Your mom and dad live in michigan, often visiting family in the hudson valley or up in northern new england

Quiet places where no one will look too closely at private lowkey eccentric people

Once your magic and clairvoyant powers started to develop on your 16th birthday, you move in with your two aunts in northern california

A small town called beacon hills

Everyone knew figuring out a balance between learning about your powers and heritage and maintaining a normal social life was going to be hard

Your aunts arranged a split schedule for you

You’d homeschool half the week to give you more time and freedom to learn your craft

And go to the public high school half the week

Hybrid schooling isn’t exactly conventional, but nothing about your family really is

The school board apparently weren’t very pro on this but your aunts managed to convince them

So for the first half of the week, everything goes fine

You’re doing your homework as fast as you can and learning so much about your powers

You’ve been studying auras and energy reading

Once you get the hang of it, you find it’s hard to shut it off

The second half of the week surprisingly also goes okay

At first

Your first day at beacon hills high, you get a tour from a guy named Stiles who is either taking way too much or not enough adderall

He seems a little sidetracked and you get the impression he has a lot going on outside of school

You’re also approached by a girl named Allison and her friend Lydia

Allison tells you that she’s somewhat new to beacon hills too, and you form a sort of bond over that

You wonder if she’s a fire sign, you immediately pick up on a strong warrior/fighter type of energy from her

Lydia is really nice too, and you can tell she’s a lot smarter than she lets on

You pick up an unusual energy from Lydia, something tugging at your gut and poking the corners of your mind, but it doesn't feel threatening so you brush it off

You sense Stiles nearby and turn your head, seeing him talk with a lanky blonde dude

Your stomach drops

There is something very weird about this guy

You can feel a really distinct energy but you can't put it into words

You squint, wondering what his name is

You're getting a lot of vowels, something sort of old, biblical??

Eventually your attention is pulled back to Allison

"Were you staring at Isaac?"

Isaac

That makes sense

"Uh, yeah no, I just spaced out for a second…"

You get that bubbling feeling that something is coming really quickly

"Come on, we should get to class." You drag them away, walking in front of them

You're right once again, as Scott McCall rounds the corner looking for Stiles and Isaac

"Hey we need to-"

He cuts himself off, distracted by the scent he picked up

It's different from any other scent he's ever encountered

It's sweet and electric, like the first sip of your favorite soda

"Scott?" Stiles asks

He picks it up again, this time on Stiles

He leans closer, sniffing him like a bloodhound

He shoves his nose in Stiles neck, then makes his way down his torso and over to his wrist as Stiles protests

Stiles’s scent immediately overwhelms the new one and Scott recoils

"Dude, don't do that in public!" He hisses, catching the strange looks from the students passing by them

"Or in private- or ever!" He corrects

He looks back at Scott, whose pupils are super dilated

"What… what was that?" Scott wonders regarding the intoxicating scent

"Yeah, I was going to ask you the same thing," Stiles grumbles, thrown off by the odd (and almost intimate) gesture

For the rest of the day, whenever he starts to clear his head, he'll catch that scent again, completely pulling his focus away

Meanwhile, you've found at least 3 people with that same weird energy as Isaac

It doesn't feel bad, not right away at least

But it's really really strong

It’s strange and overwhelming

Between how exhausted you are from all your magic lessons and how hard it was to keep your powers under control at school

AND the fact that you spent basically all day half blinded by people’s auras and energy

You’re totally exhausted

And you don't have time to unpack that today

So naturally as soon as you start to sense that weird energy

Especially that one particularly strong source of it

You pivot and head the other way

You're sure Lydia and Allison must think you're crazy by now but they don't seem to be too phased

Much like with Stiles, you get the sense they’ve seen a lot of weirder shit

And your instincts are never wrong

You know, the whole psychic clairvoyant witch thing

So by the end of the day, you’ve avoided it thus far, and you start to head with Allison and Lydia to the parking lot

You stop suddenly,remembering you forgot your wand in your locker

There’s no way you can leave that at school, so you run back inside, telling them you’ll be right back

Meanwhile, Scott has spent all day chasing down every hint of that scent he possibly can

He’s about to give up when he smells it at the end of the hallway, just around the corner

He was on his way to lacrosse practice

But honestly he couldn’t care less about that right now

He starts running, desperate not to lose the scent again, or lose control

You tuck your wand somewhere safe, then you feel it seconds before it happens

The hair on the back of your neck stands up

Your stomach drops and you get that feeling that something is about to happen

And you feel the strong as fuck super intense energy barreling towards you

A strong chill runs down your body

You turn around right as Scott pins you to your locker, eyes glowing red and as big as the moon, pulse racing

He’s breathing hard, fanning warm over your face

And god, the world shifts and everything makes sense

A shiver runs down his spine, and yours in tandem, and he has to physically hold himself back from kissing you everywhere, from pressing his face into your skin to breathe in your intoxicating scent

The logical part of his brain, the human part is screaming at him not to scare you, stop being weird, at least introduce himself and ask for your name

But the primal part, the wolf part, is too loud

He didn’t know he could feel so protective, so possessive over someone without knowing them

His wolf brain insists he does know you, you’re each other’s…

Each other’s…

That’s it

You’re each other’s

You’re his and he’s yours

God, he’s yours

And he is drawn to you

It’s like you shoved a bear trap in his chest and are pulling him closer and closer by the chain

And he’d let you

He wants you to

Fuck he wants to kiss you

At the same time, you’re trying not to fall over from the sudden force of emotions this guy is feeling for you

You can physically feel how badly he wants you

How much he desires you

Like you’re the only thing that matters

And fuck that weird energy is radiating off of him so close to you

It’s definitely not bad or malicious

You can tell that much

But it’s really really fucking powerful and needs to be treated carefully

The combination of all these things is making you kind of dizzy

And when you look at him

Really snap out of your thoughts and look at the guy pinning you against the wall

Fuck

He’s hot

He’s really hot

His breath over your face in little puffs is hot

It’s all too much

You feel yourself start to fall

You pitch sideways into his arms, blacking out before you can say something or sit down

Scott catches you as you begin to slump against him

Everywhere you touch, he lights on fire

He holds you gently, nuzzling his face against you, finally allowing himself to bask in your addictive, intoxicating scent

You don’t respond to his touch, and he can sense your pulse slowing down

“Fuck!” he growls, snapping out of it and realizing you passed out

He sniffs you closer

You smell okay, so it's probably nothing serious

But he has to get you somewhere safe

“Scott?”

Stiles’s voice echoes down the hall

“Scott!” he sees Scott clinging to your unconscious body, eyes glowing and teeth bared

A low growl emanates from his throat as a warning and Stiles freezes in his tracks

He doesn’t think Scott has ever growled at him like that

He barks at Stiles to stay away from you on instinct

A moment passes and you still haven’t woken up yet

He starts to worry

“We need to get to a doctor,” he mutters, suddenly charging past Stiles, with you still in his grip

Stiles chases after him, making a mental note to talk to him about how fucking weird he’s being right now

One very tense jeep ride to Deaton’s later, you’re laying on a table slightly too small for you as Scott rambles, explaining how you passed out

Deaton’s not exactly sure why he’s examining a human and not an animal or supernatural creature, but Scott is way too worked up for him to be hung up on details

Derek had somehow gotten wind of what happened, and is waiting for Deaton to confirm you’re okay so he can give Scott the lecture of a fucking life time

He got a panicked call from Scott’s stupid friend, and now he has to clean up another one of their messes

He’s so ready to yell at Scott, but the second he walks into the building, he smells it

His stomach drops

He runs into the back, throwing open the door, and is overwhelmed by the smell of the mate bond freshly formed between Scott, and you, who’s still lying unconscious

He tries to drag Scott out of the room to talk, but Scott refuses to leave your side, growling and snapping at him

“Okay,” Derek says, “I really didn’t think I was going to have to give you the talk so soon, but…”

Stiles and Scott protest, while Deaton looks even more uncomfortable than he already had

“Not that talk!” Derek snaps, “...The mate talk.”

“The mate talk?” Scott asks, “Like…” his words hang unspoken in the air

Derek nods

“Yeah.”

Using every ounce of willpower in him, Scott manages to tear himself away from your side to step out of the room and talk to Derek, but he insists on standing right outside the door so he can watch you through the window, Stiles following behind him

He’s barely able to pay attention to what Derek is saying

He’s so preoccupied with you

You look so vulnerable on that examination table

It’s not like he thinks Deaton wouldn’t take great care of you or anything, he just wishes he was there to make sure first hand that you’re okay

He doesn’t like that he’s not next to you right now

It brings on a heartache, a devotion he hasn’t ever felt before

“For fucks sake, Scott, pay attention!” Derek snaps, realizing he’s been spacing out

“I’m listening!” Scott counters, and tries to focus on what Derek is telling him

He’s glad Stiles is there to retain the information he’s missing

It’s like his brain is a sponge that’s been soaking in a bucket full of you, it can’t hold on to anything else

He just wants you to be okay

In the depths of your sleep, you make a mental note to thank your aunts for giving you that book on astral projection (among many other witchy texts and spellbooks) for your birthday

You flex your hands, feeling them tingling warm with magic, then wiggle your feet, tingling the same way

You continue to gently separate your astral form from your corporeal form, and the dream you had been having shifts

You’re in what looks like the back office of a vet’s office, a guy in a lab coat stands near you looking concerned

Gently, slowly, you get up and creep towards the door

You watch a rugged looking man with dark hair, and that same energy, explain something seemingly important

“For fucks sake Scott, pay attention!”

You look over at Scott, who’s looking back at where you’re presumably still asleep in the back room, and the guy keeps explaining what’s going on

Mates are a rare connection, usually made by alphas, and it’s even more rare for an alpha to have a mate that’s not a werewolf, he tells Scott and Stiles

You look up at Scott

He’s a werewolf

And an alpha

That makes sense, you think, it confirms the feeling you’d had before but couldn’t put into words

With a fresh mate bond (which is what you have) being separated can be painful, and even fatal, so until this calms down you’re basically going to be joined at the hip

You’ll form a deep connection, possibly even some sort of telepathic bond, but most likely you’ll just need to spend enough time together, make sure you’re both doing okay

He’ll probably feel possessive and territorial over you, that’s normal, but it’s also important to keep those feelings in check

Scenting can help with that too

“There’s also the issue of, uh,�� Derek looks around awkwardly

He knew he would need to explain ruts at some point, and now that Scott found his mate, he needs to tell him before he gets his first rut

But he feels like now is really not the time or place

“What?” Scott asks with a blank stare

He really has no idea what he’s getting into

“Come by my place this weekend, I’ll tell you then.”

“Okay,” he says, clearly antsy, glancing back at you, “if that’s everything can I-”

“Fine,” Derek sighs, warning him not to scare you, “and don’t come on too strong!”

Scott opens the door, rushing into the room

In an instant, you feel yourself getting pulled back to your body as the scene goes dark

You open your eyes, lying on the table, Scott right next to you

“Oh, you’re awake,” he says, breathing an obvious sigh of relief

“I’m… Scott, by the way,” he beams down at you, utter adoration obvious on his face

“I know,” you smile, turning to the others, “Can we have the room?”

It’s more of a statement than a question, and Stiles, Derek, and Deaton awkwardly shuffle out

You’re sure Derek will be able to hear everything you’re saying with the whole werewolf hearing thing, so you choose your words carefully, wanting to keep at least some cards close to your chest

You know there’s not much you’ll be able to hide from him, what with you being mates and all, but you’d like to be a little strategic about how you break some of this to him

He’s still gazing at you, beyond enamored, and it’s like his whole world has shifted

His center of gravity no longer rests an inch below his navel, now it’s wherever you are, and he feels himself swirling and orbiting around you

You’re the center of his universe

You take his much larger hand in yours and his chest squeezes as the breath is pulled from his lungs

He smiles again, he’s been doing that a lot more around you

“I know you’re a werewolf,” you start slowly

His stomach drops

“But it’s okay, I’m not freaked out or anything. I actually have something kind of weird to tell you too, but,” your eyes flick over to the door, “I don’t think this is really the ideal time or place.”

“Okay,” he breathes, waiting for you to continue so he can hear more of your voice, sweeter than honey and as soothing as a cozy blanket

“I know we can’t really be far apart because of the whole…” you motion between you two, “mate thing, so if you want we can go back to my place and catch each other up a little?”

He stares at you as you talk, focus split between your words and how wonderful it is to be around you, and a moment after you’re done he agrees

“Yeah, there’s probably a lot to talk about,” he says with a chuckle

On your way out to the car, you send an incoming spell to your aunts with a quick flick of your wand

It’s a simple spell that tells the recipient something’s coming, mixed with a little bit of the sender’s intention and sometimes a short message, so they can tell if it’s anything dangerous or not

The message you mutter under your breath is “big news, we’ll be home soon, get ready”

You tuck your wand back into your boot as Scott opens the door of Stiles’ jeep for you, helping you in and buckling your seatbelt for you

Your heart flutters a little at the gesture

Stiles gives you both a ride since he had been your ride over, now under significantly less stress than he had been during your previous drive to Deaton’s clinic

Scott is glued to your side the whole time, radiating heat against you

You’re both sitting in the back, and Stiles grumbles something light hearted about Scott already ditching him for you

A while later, Stiles drops both of you off at your house

It looks slightly out of place in beacon hills, with its looming victorian frame and tall turret protruding into the otherwise clear sky

Various lawn decorations and ornaments made of heavy metals and deep jewel tones (all enchanted and serving a purpose) decorate the yard, kept company by the occasional gnome

The inside, as Scott will soon find out, is decorated in a similar fashion

Deep, rich jewel tones with eclectic prints and patterns, heavy velvet drapes, and a lot of celestial imagery and detailing cover every room, with books and nicknacks tucked away anywhere there’s space for them

You can sense your aunts freaking out a little, catching a spell book flying across the room through the window

They’re not sure what kind of trouble you got in so soon, but they’re ready to do whatever needs to be done to help you out

You open the door, and everything stops in its tracks

Most of it was out of sight, but you see a few things that had been floating about drop to the floor or skitter to their place on a table in a way that your aunts hope is inconspicuous

They pause in their tracks about to greet you, when they see Scott

Both of your aunts, and the black cat sitting on the couch in front of a soap opera playing quietly on tv all stare at him curiously

After a moment, aunt Zelda’s eyes go wide in understanding, and she nudges Hilda, who catches on as well as you greet each other

Aunt Zelda addresses you, happy that your home, “and who is this?” she asks, motioning towards Scott

You smile

“Aunt Hilda, Aunt Zelda, this is Scott. He’s my boyfriend,” you say

Scott almost feels dizzy

He really likes being called your boyfriend, much more than he thought he could

He wishes he could hear you say it again

“He’s a werewolf.” you state simply

Scott’s eyes flare, and he looks down at you, what the fuck, dude?? Written all over his face

“Oh,” your Aunt Zelda says, trying to sound surprised

“Is he?” Hilda says rhetorically

“So, he’s already familiar with all kinds of magic and supernatural stuff. It’s nothing new.”

They let out a sigh of relief, and all the magic that had been ground to a halt flies back to life

A pot in the kitchen starts stirring itself, the items that had been flying around make their way back to their places on shelves and drawers, a broom in the hallway begins to sweep up by itself

Scott is sure the shock is evident on his face and you giggle, sounding like music from the heavens

“Scott, these are my aunts, Hilda and Zelda. They’re witches.”

“Oh,” he says, nodding

That makes more sense

“And I am also a witch. So,” you turn between Scott and your aunts, taking out your wand and flicking it with a swish. The book on the table in front of them flips a few pages, and the letters rearrange themselves with a glimmer into the word mates. Their eyes widen in understanding. “Now that all the cards are on the table, Scott and I have some homework to do, so we’re going to catch up a little and take care of that.”

“Sure,” Zelda says with a smile, “let us know if you need anything, Scott.”

“Peanut butter is in the pantry, and I think we have some bone broth in the freezer if you want to-” Hilda says, starting to make a gnawing motion before Zelda smacks her arm

You’d expect nothing less, and you’re relieved as Scott chuckles at the dog jokes

You start to bring him through the living room past the couch to go up to your room and talk a little

You’re a witch

You have a wand and (presumably) spell books and can do literal magic

Okay, he can totally handle that

He’s dealt with weirder stuff

Honestly, he can feel deep in his bones that nothing can pull him away from you

This is nothing more than a slight curve ball

And he actually thinks it’s really fucking cool

He’s processing what he’s seen since entering your house, and it makes sense, he thinks

He’s sure he can handle this, he doubts after all that there’s anything else in the world that could shock him

You pass by the couch, and he hears a deeper voice let out a petulant whine

He turns his head, seeing the black cat who’s been sitting on your couch the whole time

“Is he going to make the whole house smell like wet dog?”

The cat just spoke

“Gag me.” he groans with a roll of his eyes

“Salem!” you exclaim, dragging Scott away

Okay, maybe that will take some getting used to

“Sorry about him,” you say as trails after you up the stairs. Your voice is low and intimate, and he feels that deep connection to you again

Everything in him pulls him towards you, towards you warm embrace

Then you gently hold his arm to guide him into your room, flashing a sweet smile his way that makes his chest squeeze and his stomach flip

He’s sure he can handle anything as long as he has you

#scott mccall x reader #teen wolf x reader #scott mccall #teen wolf #scott mccall x witch!reader #witch!reader

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wttcsms · 1 year

Text

hopeless, breathless, burning slow, masterlist ; rin itoshi

in the middle of trying to embrace the new “real and messy model” facade your publicist keeps pushing upon you in order to get you into the good graces of the masses, you might take it a step too far. in your defense, nothing is more real than still hopelessly pining after a boy who has 1) already broken your heart more than once! and 2) definitely does not like you the way you like him. the messy side of things? he’s also your friend with benefits. except, you’re pretty sure the two of you aren’t friends, so he’s technically your ex with benefits. yeah, how’s that for “real and messy”?

COMING SOON! pairing rin itoshi x f!reader content contains/will contain timeskip/pro athlete!rin x nepo-baby/model!reader, strangers with a history, second chance (more like fourth chance) romance, almost high school sweethearts (y’all have been doing this situationship shit for years lmao), fwb to lovers, rin AND you are both ass at feelings, eventual smut, jealous&protective!rin, depictions of panic attacks, mentions of dead parent, more to be added word count tbd... (estimated to be ~50k, subject to change)

one / two / three / four

track list ! side a: honeymoon avenue, ariana grande / death by a thousand cuts, taylor swift / mirrorball, taylor swift / a lucid dream, verite / worth it for the feeling, rebecca black / if i weren’t me, katherine li / damage you still do, mikayla pasterfield / things i wish you said, sabrina carpenter / monster, lady gaga / fake smile, ariana grande / delicate, taylor swift side b: shameless, camila cabello / good looking, suki waterhouse / heartless, the weeknd / die for you, the weeknd / congratulations, mac miller / search & rescue, drake / kiss it better, rihanna / as it was, harry styles / nothing’s gonna hurt you baby, cigarettes after sex / afterglow, taylor swift / daylight, taylor swift

author’s notes

[apr. 10, 2023] hello!!! starting towards the end of the month/early may, i plan on having the final drafts of both of the first acts completed 🤭 this originally started as a one shot with the basic premise of “5 times rin itoshi breaks your heart + the 1 time he gives you his” but i had so much fun writing the one shot that it grew into a monster entirely of its own accord & i gave in and made some adjustments in order to better suit it :) now it’s a multipart fic! spoiler: rin still breaks your heart. several times. </3 but while writing the original one shot, i realized that rin’s heart had been yours/the reader’s the whole entire time!!! so, this fic explores you & him maturing + realizing how to properly communicate your feelings. i think the whole point is that it doesn’t matter if you love someone if they can’t feel it.

#rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x you #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #rin itoshi smut #itoshi rin smut #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #one shot #drabble #lemon #fluff #angst #series: hopeless breathless burning slow

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discoveredreality · 3 months

Text

new intro post!

last update: 25/02/2024

BELOVED MOOTS

@island-of-stars THEY'RE MY BESTIE I LOVE THEM SM IF U DON'T FUCK OFF

and that's the end of the list i'm too scared to tag anyone else im sorry idk i can add more ppl later maybe idk dm me or smth this is scary

about me

i'm ari. she/her. nicknames welcome. go wild. dude/bro/girl/literally anything is also fine. i use 'lol' and '<3' too much. straight idk. and cis. minor. indian but i live in australia. bengali/punjabi. band kid. pinterest is here. DM ME I NEED MORE FRIENDS

personality/star sign or whatever

according to the mbti test here i am an istp-t. i am also a cancer. i found out my sun, moon and rising signs and the marauders version and i wrote it down and lost it so then i redid it and i lost it again so i can't bother at this point someone help me :(

time zone

Australian Eastern Standard Time (AEST) i think??

my music taste

i love taylor swift, conan gray, olivia rodrigo, lana del rey, sabrina carpenter and i'm probably forgetting some. also love bollywood music.

favourite books and authors

i love reading and i'm usually a really fast reader lol. i love harry potter (fuck jkr tho), kotlc, chetan bhagat books, the twisted series, shatter me, simon vs the homo sapiens agenda and love simon, the book thief, the inheritance games, agggtm, all of karen m. mcmanus's books, the divergent series, lorien legacies, the selection, radio silence, solitaire, powerless and a bunch of other books.

dni

idk the usual?? if u think ppl arent valid or you're literally an asshole. honestly you all can go get stuffed. idgaf

tag games and shit

yes you can absolutely tag me. i love tag games and chain asks. sometimes i may not get to doing it but i usually will and it makes me so happy when i'm tagged lol