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deepestnightcolor · 4 months

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☾ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋᴇɴ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ☽

ᴀ/ɴ: I am already back with a new fic for Sam. I am in a groupchat with some amazing people and I decided to write some ideas out that were thrown around. I hope you enjoy! Maybe I will do Alex or Elliott next... Anyway, thank you so much for your time! ✧

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x Reader (afab)

ᴡᴄ: 3884 words.

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: alcohol consumption, drunk sex, doggy style, cursing, unportected sex, drooling, exhibitionism, public setting, teasing, creampie, hornyness all around.

Sam’s mouth was watering, and the sole reason for it was you. Sam had fallen in love with you the moment you had stepped foot into Pelican Town yet had never managed to utter a single word about it. But now, the blonde was absolutely hammered, and that allowed him to shamelessly stare at you. Pupils blown, chest heaving and falling quickly, his eyes were focused on your ass while you were bent over the pool table, focused on your next shot in your game with Sebastian. The only thing that kept him from dropping on his knees and begging to be allowed to suck on those slender fingers wrapping around the cue was the fact that he still wasn’t sure if you liked him back.

When you wiggled your butt a little, a small groan passed his lips. It was desperate, and rough, making the attention of the room fall on him. “Are you okay, Sam?” You asked, worry in your voice. “Yeah…yeah…Yeah, ‘m fine… just gonn…you need help, dontcha? Winnin’ against Seb, I mean,” he slurred, pushing himself up on his legs, steadying himself using the pool table. Sebastian cocked his pierced brow; Sam sucked at pool when he wasn’t drunk, and now he was absolutely shitfaced. What help could he be?

Sam placed himself right behind you, pressing his crotch against you a bit, hoping – no, praying – that you didn’t catch on that he only did that to feel you against his growing buldge.

Though you were a smart girl. The feeling of his erection didn’t go unnoticed, but you kept up your pokerface. “I guess I could use a little help,” you murmured, voice coated in innocence. You leaned forward, smiling up at the oblivious Sebastian. “Sorry, I told you I haven’t played in ages,” you explained, directing the black-haired man’s attention back to the game. He shrugged nonchalantly, waving off your comment and watching you adjust the cue, but Sam had seemingly become hyper focused. He leaned over you, shaking hand gripping your wrist. He was so close, so close to you. He could smell you and feel you. If his mouth was watering before, now it was drooling. He had dreamed of this so often, having you bent over under him, and now he had, and you didn’t even notice his ulterior motives.

A thought that was disproved when he felt it. You pressed your ass against him, circling your hips just ever so slightly to cause friction. An accident? Sam didn’t care. The whine that slipped couldn’t be caught anymore; the despair obvious. The need to beg for you to at least let him feel you for one night, even just a single hour, maybe just put the tip in you if that was all you wanted to give, hanging onto his tongue by a thread. The only thing that kept him from speaking was a pair of attentive eyes that were placed on him.

„Ugh, drunk like that? It’s best he sleeps on the couch here, Jodi’s gonna flip otherwise… and I doubt I can drag his drunk ass up the mountain.”

“‘S…’s a bad position,“ Sam slurred in a weak attempt to explain himself, but he didn’t even really care. He cared about you, boxed in-between his wobbly arms. He could lean down, kiss your neck, suck on it. Leave his wet marks all over you – and who would stop him? “He’s right,” you mused, shifting yet again. This time you rubbed your ass from side to side as if to figure out how to stand, making sure to add pressure against his dick. Sam was creaming in his pants by now, his knees wobbling as he lowered his head. He licked his lips, hot breath hitting your neck. The goosebumps that appeared made him want to drool all over you, but still, he cleared his throat and guided you into a sloppy shot. Trying to stay strong, not to make it too obvious. But fuck, your gentle grinding into his cock, the way you pressed into him – he swore his cock was about to burst right then and there for you, and if you kept it up, he’d cum in his pants in the saloon.

“Damn, Sam. You wanted to help her win, not make her lose. Maybe you should step back,” Sebastian grunted, an obvious edge to his voice, yet he would have never expected his best friend to actually growl at him in return. That was the only way the sound that radiated through the blonde’s chest could be described; it was deep and rough, almost threatening. Possessive, even.

While it shocked the other man, it sent a shock straight through your whole body. It was enough for you to put your cue away and stand up straight, giving Sebastian a small smile. “I think it’s time we get Sammy boy here to sleep.”

Perfect.

“I’ll take him to the farm, then. Until our ways part we are about halfway there, you can help me drag him.”

Sebastian sighed dramatically, but put the cue away, which probably signalled his agreement, or at least you decided to take it as such.

Both of you draped one of Sam’s arms over your shoulders and made the strenuous way up to your farm, Sebastian stubbornly staring ahead, while Sam was slumped between you. His cheeks were red, but the way you looked at him made him wheeze. The look that he gave you, so lustful and horny, eyes drowning in need, made your legs buckle every now and then, straining a grunt from Sebastian that now had to basically drag two whenever you did. “You sure you want him on your farm? I can stay over-“

“No,“ you interrupted, flashing him a quick, reassuring smile. “You’ve got to work with Robin tomorrow, and she will freak out if you’re not there. Besides, I have a guard dog, and if this fella acts up, he’ll be sent to the doghouse.”

Sebastian smiled a little and nodded, the thought of Sam sleeping in a small hut clearly bemusing him. Smacking his friend on the back, which almost sent the poor boy tumbling over, Sebastian turned. „Behave, you hear? Or I gotta whoop your ass.” With that and a wave, he began to make his way home.

Silence.

“So…,” you began when Sebastian’s silhouette had blended into the deep night, looking at the blonde hanging onto your shoulder. “What was all that about?”

“All…hicc… what about?”

“In the bar. You drooled on my neck.”

Sam giggled at that, tilting his head back as his laugh became deeper. “Yea…that-…that probably was ‚cause I really fuckin‘ love you…an‘…an‘ cum in my fist every night thinkin‘ of fuckin…fucking you.”

If that wasn’t drunken honesty, you didn’t know what else would be. “But I didn’t know hoooow to tell youuuu. So, don’t tell on me, m’kay? Don’t want ya to..hate me, ya know.”

Chuckling quietly, you pushed a strand of hair out of his, face, dragging your lower lip between your teeth. “You know who you’re talking to, right”

“Mh..course. My little farmer princess.”

“And you know what I did to you in the bar?”

“Mhhhhm. Was so close to cummin‘. Still…still am.”

“Do you know what could mean, Sam?”

“That… you suck even more at pool than me?”

You snorted, head tipping back as you laughed. Yoba, he wanted to lick down your throat, down your body, devour your cunt. He wanted to taste you so, so bad. He could have bet that you had the prettiest pussy he would ever lay eyes on, and he would make sure to worship it. With slow licks, the fast ones, by spelling his name on your clit and with your legs over his shoulder so he could get into as much contact as possible.

“No, Sam. I’m into you. I have been for a while. Didn’t you ever notice me flirting? Not even when I told you you should show me what else those fingers can do than play guitar.”

You could literally see the corks in Sam’s head reeling, trying to connect the dots of the information that had just been relied to him. “So…ya…like me back?”

You rolled your eyes, deciding that in this state, only actions seemed to count for Sam. Words took too long to process. You leaned down to kiss the man deeply - an opportunity he leaped at. His tongue immediately dragged over your lips, coating them with the taste of alcohol. The moan that left you was to his advantage, he shoved his tongue into your mouth clumsily, letting it run over yours, licking at it as if he was starving. His hands had found your body for support to stop himself from swaying back and forth. “Need ya…need ya so bad. This kay?“ He slurred against your mouth, pretty blue eyes staring at you, begging you without words.

You bit your lip and tried to steady Sam again, “Come on, let’s get to the farm, we can…we can-„ Sam’s mouth hit yours again, his teeth sinking into your lips gently. You moaned again, tugging at his hair, but your surroundings made you pull away and tug at him him. “Let’s get to the farm, I need you,” you ordered, setting a rather fast pace for drunken Sam.

He whined, begged and pleaded, but in the end, he strolled with you, legs buckling and wobbling, and the lack of blood in his brain seemed to make the short path to your house even longer. The fabric of his clothes rubbed against his buldge so uncomfortably, and the way your hips swayed when you walked brought him close to tears. He wanted you. He had wanted you for so long, he couldn’t wait any longer.

The moment you reached the bus stop, Sam dropped to his knees, almost making you fall over due to the sudden weight shift. “Sam! What are you doing?”

“Fuck…fuck, please. ‘M beggin’ you. ‘M so fuckin’ hard…it hurts so bad…shit, you look so pretty for me,” he gasped, rutting against his hand that he had rested in his lap. The moonlight hit you so perfectly…you looked so amazing. Amazing enough for him to throw his head back, now gripping his length through his clothes. “Pretty please,“ he added, helplessly looking up at you. You bit your lower lip again, your own knees growing weak. You could feel the wetness pool between your legs, and it was hard for you to not just let him have his way with you.

“But what if anyone is gonna see us? We can’t risk being caught. It’s not that far anymore…”

“No! No one will see us!” Sam cried, “I promise…promise I’ll be quick. I’ll be quiet. Anythin‘, princess. Pretty please. I beg you. Please. I’ll be good. Just…please.”

You seriously doubted the value of a completely horny, drunk and in love person’s opinion, but before you knew it, you found yourself on your knees, kissing Sam sloppily.

The blonde immediately pounced on you, pressing his crotch into yours, his hands seemingly everywhere. “So pretty,” he panted against you, kissing down your jaw, down your neck, and then he already lapped at your throat. You seemingly felt him everywhere at once, making you moan out lowly. That only urged Sam on more. He wanted more. He wanted to hear you, smell you, taste you, feel you. He wanted you. No, he needed you.

“You know how often I’ve dreamed of fucking you?”

It was just a murmur against your neck on which he greedily sucked. “How often I’ve dreamed of holdin‘ you in my arms? Pretty baby, makin‘ you all mine.”

Sam had seemingly sobered up a little but that didn’t help much – he was was already intoxicated by you again.

He tugged at your pants and at his at the same time, trying to get them both off at the same time, causing you to laugh out breathlessly. He gave up his attempt and back, licking over his lips.

“Need you so bad,” he repeated while he unbuckled his belt, struggling out of his pants.

You licked your lips and opened the button to your pants much slower, pushing them down your long legs centimetre by centimetre. Blue eyes were glued on you; Sam’s mouth hung open as he watched you, tongue hanging out just slightly. He was pretty sure you could see his dick throb against his already wet boxers, but fuck, who cared? He sure didn’t. The hunger in his eyes made you shiver, no man had ever looked at you like he did, and you were sure he was already fucking you in his head.

“The panties,” he stammered, making you grin to yourself. “The panties. Please, princess. Take them off. You’re so wet already, fuck, please, I- am pretty sure I’m gonna die if you don’t.”

“You mean these?” You teased, gripping at the waistband and letting it snap against your hips. The blonde groaned, the force of the sheer lust hitting him almost making him drop forward again.

“You want them off?”

He nodded, eyes yet again filled with tears. “Yoba, please, yes…need…need to see your pussy.”

“Then take them off.”

Sam was incredibly quick to move, much quicker than you had deemed in the range of possibility, he did have a lot of drinks, but he was on top of you the moment you gave the go. He pushed your shirt upwards and messily pulled your breasts from your bra, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. He trailed his tongue around it, before switching sides, his hand trailing towards your panties already. He let his finger glide along your slit over the fabric, growl escaping him upon feeling your wet spot. “All that teasing gotcha wet, huh?” He hissed, biting your nipple gently before he slowly licked down your cleavage, staying in-between your breasts for a moment longer, just inhaling deeply and leaving his love bites. You smelled so good, so sweet; it was hard to not get lost in his in his need. However, after a moment he picked up his journey again and licked down your stomach, until he finally reached the hem of your panties.

The night air began to fill with moans that tumbled out of your mouth, the eagerness you were treated with leaving your cunt pulsing. By now you felt a need similar to Sam’s, making you pretty sure you needed him all over you to ever think properly again, even though right now, you were far from it. He let his fingers run up to your exposed chest, gripping your nipples between pointer finger and thumb and rolling them gently. “Lift your butt,” he ordered, almost smiling to himself when you did. He gripped the lace of your panties with his teeth, slowly tugging them down. You shuddered when the cold night air hit your hot wetness, and Sam moaned lowly upon seeing your cunt.“ Look how beautiful. Such a sweet little cunt…all for me, isn’t it? All for my cock and me,” he rambled, having to sit back on his heels for a moment. The beauty of your almost naked body had him dangerously close to the edge, and he would have forever hated himself if his own dick cockblocked him right now.

“Sam-“

“Get on your hands and knees for me, pretty baby.”

You sucked in air through your teeth, eyes dragging down his body. He was hard as a rock, and you were sure his boxers were about to rip, so you slowly settled on your hands and knees. Maybe it was also because you just needed to be absolutely stuffed with cock.

You tried to wait patiently, even though your own need made that incredibly hard, but you couldn’t risk getting Sam distracted. His gaze seemed to burn holes into your back, making you shift around on your knees. Then you finally heard shifting and the gentle sound of skin smacking against skin.

“You are so ready for me, baby,” he murmured, his fingers spreading your drooling lips slowly. One of them pushed inside of you, low groan falling from his lips. He curled his finger and then thrusted it knuckle-deep, breathing in sharply upon feeling you basically pulling him in. You were so wet and warm… and he could finally get his dick into you. He couldn’t take it anymore. He was about to be ripped apart by the feelings tumbling around inside of him, and you were the only thing on this whole planet that would ease this ache he had for you.

You felt his finger leave you and whined, wiggling your ass in the air. Much to your surprise, a hand came down on your butt, forcing you to yelp out Sam’s name. “Teasin‘ me all night already,” he slurred, pressing his tip against your soaked hole. “And it worked…”

With that, he slowly pushed himself inside of you and the world seemed to disappear.

All he could hear was static, and the sound of his own heartbeat, mixing with your moans. He was pretty sure the world could explode and he wouldn’t have blinked an eye. All he could think about was how good you felt; despite only having the tip in, you sucked him in deeper already.

“This okay?”

You nodded eagerly, pushing back against his dick in a desperate attempt to get more. Yoba, you needed more. This time it was you that wanted to cry and beg for him, but Sam seemed to pick up your silent prayers.

His hips shoved forward eagerly; it seemed like your walls were made for his cock. You fit so snuck around him, cunt welcoming him with a wet sound. The two of you moaned and you had to rest your head on your arms to keep at least your butt up in the air for Sam, the promise of being quite long forgotten. Centimetre by centimetre Sam pushed inside of you, making sure to take his time, to really split you in two for him and only him. One of his hands was resting firmly on your hip, the other cupping one of your breasts. When he was balls deep inside of you, he abruptly stopped, his penis twitching violently inside of you. For a moment, you weren’t sure if he had just had his orgasm, and when you turned around you could see his eyes watering. You were about to ask, yet the thought was immediately cut off when Sam pulled back and rammed back into you.

Suddenly you could feel the weight of his upper body on your own as he angled himself to get better access to your sweet cunt.

“Mine, all mine,” Sam panted into your ear as he began to pick up a fast pace, humping you like an animal in heat. The sound of his balls smacking against your wet pussy and the way his pelvic bone hit your bare ass created sounds lewd enough for anyone within a kilometre to know what was happening. Neither of you cared.

You were a moaning mess beneath the blonde, and he was whimpering, close to sobbing your name. Sam sucked on your neck to mark you up, keep you away from dirty, greedy eyes such as his own, his cock bullying into you at a fast pace; your walls sucking him off so well. His eyes rolled in the back of his head when he felt you clench around him as he began to gently circle your clit.

“Like that, huh? Like when…I do this?” He snarled, licking his lips and kissing down your spine; a task that was rather hard given that his hard thrusts made your whole body shake.

“Sam!” You sobbed, trying to meet his thrusts desperately as if you just couldn’t get enough, and Sam was happy to deliver. He pressed you into his body and fucked into you as if his life depended on it, tongue hanging out and droplets of saliva falling on your back.

You swore you could see little fairies dance around you when Sam hit your sweet spot, this combined with his relentless spelling of his name on your clit made you approach the edge with fast steps.

Sam wasn’t much better – he was staring at his thick perverted cock vanishing into your pussy, spreading open your sweet little hole with each thrust. He loved to see how he forced wetness out of you with each thrust, and he swore to himself he’d make you cream.

“Sam, fuck, Sam! I’m gonna cu-cum!” You cried, the thought of if you could maybe wake someone with your needy cries for dick crossed your mind, but it quickly turned into arousal. You would love for people to hear how well Sam was fucking you, how mean he was to your cunt, snapping his hips back and forth mercilessly, accompanied by the sound of his skin smacking against your reddened ass that by now was sporting a red handprint.

“Gonna cum, Sam, gonna cum!” You slurred, feeling his wet tongue trace patterns down the side of your neck again. White light flashed in front of your eyes, your toes curled up as you felt your face growing numb.

What the two of you didn’t notice was the text from Sebastian’s number that made the screens of your phones light up. Nice show. Make it less obvious that you want to fuck next time or send me videos so I can rewatch.

Sam’s whimpers and small groans had turned into dragged out whines, adoring how you let him fuck you out here near the bus stop. He wanted people to hear you. Show them you were his and his alone. He would have loved for each of the guys to see him ruining you, so they’d keep their hands off. Seeing how his cock vanished inside of you with each thrust, how his precum and your juices were mixing together, dribbling down his shaft. The thought of them seeing you sprawled out and crying for him and the feeling of you drooling all over his throbbing dick, begging for more was enough to push him over the edge.

His body tensed up, a cry of sheer pleasure was being bellowed into the night as his orgasm washed over him, his cock pressed deep inside of you. The feeling of his cum inside of you was too much. You sobbed his name, fingers wrapping around strands of grass as your body convulsed, the numbness that caught up to you soothing as you clenched around your lover’s dick, making it hard for Sam to move. The blonde gritted his teeth, his thrusts slowly slowing down as he hung his head; his breathing hard and laboured

You were lying beneath him, panting as well as your hand slowly searched for his. Upon finding it, you intertwined your fingers, and for a moment you two just sat there, Sam’s dick still buried inside of you, your hands interlocked.

“Round two when we reach the farm?” You whispered after a while, despite having his cum drip out of you as he pulled back slowly, making Sam smile like a lovesick puppy.

“Round two when we reach the farm.”

#sdv #sdv sam #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley farmer #stardew valley smut #sdv sam x reader #SDV fanfic #SDV Sebastian #Stardew Valley Sam #smut #SDV smut #enjoy!#fanfic

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nondualiber · 3 months

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(small tw: death threads) the anon from the last time (blocked now ofc) wrote another message saying i should kms because i was a fraud and i never manifested anything(?) and that gave me the idea of making today's post :)

every single thing i manifested so far & things i am (or will) manifesting

things i already manifested

an incredible, excessive amount of ice cream and cakes

shiny, long, healthy hair

stop being bullied & changing schools

fixing my relationship with a girl that ghosted me and talked shit about me for two years

a flat tummy + small waist

my grandmother beating cancer :)

my brother being nicer & getting him a school (he's autistic so a lot of schools were rejecting him last year)

random people being in love with me (exactly 15 ppl has)

perfectly clear skin

my db - in progress ;)

my family having lots of money

moving to my desired house

having braces

a boat

TONS of my desired clothes

lucid dreaming almost every night

skipping school (i had 76 absences last year 💀)...

but still approving with the highest marks 😝 (9.7 average)

traveling to Brazil

going to a taylor swift concert

things i am manifesting

traveling to Italy to see a friend of mine

entering the void on command

my family being even richer - no amount of money is ever enough money 🎀

me and all of my friends going to my desired school

my df

an iphone

revising that a certain group of people doesn't exist and never did

Argentina being a rich, safe country

an sp :)

being friends with desired person

#4d reality #affirm and persist #it girl #law of assumption #law of attraction #loablr #manifesation #manifesting #neville goddard #shifting #loa blog

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momotonescreaming · 3 months

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STWG Daily Prompt: Chocolate Covered Strawberries

[Part One]

“Do you think you need a special type of chocolate?” Eddie starts, speaking into the stagnant air of the trailer as he flops down onto the couch. Sends a burst of dust spiralling into the air as the cushions dip under his weight. “To make, like, chocolate covered strawberries or something.”

He cranes his head, hair splayed out around him as he watches Wayne’s reaction. Watches as his uncle lowers the newspaper he was reading, looks over at Eddie from behind the folded pages from his position in his armchair in the corner. Face carefully still as he raises a single eyebrow as if to say how the hell should I know?

Eddie just huffs, rolling his eyes at his uncle, arm draped over the side of the couch as he settles in. He’s tempted to tip himself upside down — pun not intended — hang his head over the side of the couch and kick his legs up in the air. Maybe it would help him think, all the blood rushing to his head. He’d do it, if he wasn’t sure he’d kick over something — a hat, or a mug, or two, or three. “Throw me a bone here, Wayne.”

“I’d say regular chocolate should work just fine.” Wayne says, lowering his eyebrow. Voice gruff, but serious as he gives Eddie an answer. “Just put it in the fridge to keep it cool. Help it set.”

“Are you sure?” Eddie asks, picking at the stray threads of the couch. Running them between his fingers. Plucking and pulling them taut, his voice pitching higher. Tighter. Feeling and sounding a little bit more vulnerable than he intended. “You’re not a chef.”

“Neither are you,” His uncle retorts, face carefully deadpan. And Eddie snorts, the thread of anxiousness he was pulling, now slowly loosening in his chest. “So what bought this on? Dinner with your boy went well I take it?

“So well,” Eddie gushes, smile creeping across his face, cheeks flushing pick at the thought of Steve. At the thought of Wayne calling Steve his boy. He’s sure Wayne can see it from his armchair, looking at him from over the pages of the newspaper. Can almost guarantee it, in fact, if the smile on his uncle’s face is anything to go by. “Steve made us dinner from scratch — lasagne with garlic bread and a wine paring and everything — and it was the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten. And not just because he made it for me. He lit candles, and was wearing this navy blue button down that made him look so hot.”

“Boy,” Wayne says, a little exasperated. He’s still smiling. Eddie can see it curling up underneath his beard.

“We listened to music and made ice cream sundaes together for desert,” Eddie continues, smile not leaving his face. His toes curl, and he sort of lets himself shrink into the couch as he talks. Melting into it under thoughts of Steve. “We kissed and slow danced in the kitchen as I helped him do the dishes.”

“And,” Wayne prompts, raising his eyebrow again, but he’s still smiling. He’s happy for him, Eddie knows.

Eddie sighs, letting Wayne look right through him. He always does.

“And if I don’t do something equally romantic in return I’m going to cry,” Eddie whines, playing it up, slumping even further until he’s almost falling off the couch and onto the floor. Locks eyes with Wayne and pouts. He’s being dramatic, but he means it. Steve deserves the best, deserves the romance he’s always wanted and Eddie isn’t quite sure how to give it to him.

“Romance ain’t a competition, boy,” His uncle simply says.

“It is and I’m losing,” Eddie whines, pulling a face as Wayne just laughs. Deep, and warm, and comforting.

#eddie munson #wayne munson #steddie #steddie ficlet #stwgdailyprompt #My Writing

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k-hotchoisan · 9 months

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Soaking wet (San x fem!reader)

Synopsis: Soaking in the water festival, both literally and physically, you find your eyes trailing to a certain red haired man, completely drenched, his tank sticking to his skin like a tease. The festival isn’t the only thing that’s gonna be wet.

Genre: smut, fluff, San is performing, the both of you are wet, sexual tension (kinda!), reader is playful

Warnings: penetration, cumming, masturbation, heavy petting, slight hair tugging (san is the one getting his hair tugged🌶️), unprotected sex (PLEASE USE CONDOMS <3), cream pie, riding

Word count: 3.7K

A/n: no one drives me as insane as Choi san… my brain has rotted even more ever since waterbomb and I can’t stop fucking thinking about him

You navigate against the crowd, your hand linking with your friend’s, who is babbling about being excited that they could finally attend face-to-face events after a long while. You smile as you continue threading the crowd, a strange glimmer of excitement and anxiety flicking in you because you knew he would be there.

Water festivals are fun in their own way, once you let yourself get drenched and just enjoyed the music beating in your ears. You weren’t letting San dominate you of course. You had your own white shirt on with a bikini top and sweat shorts for easier manoeuvring, especially through the thick crowd. Whether or not you’ll get sprayed—is another matter entirely, and whether that will capture San’s attention as well. But the main point was, you weren’t gonna let San get a rouse out of you.

Bubble Pop blasts on the speakers and you silently cheer in delight at such a fun song. Definitely a summer classic. The water guns continuously drenches the crowd, including you but all you care about was feeling Hyuna’s music from head to toe. You didn’t know where San and his buddies were but not that it should matter—nothing was going on between you and the idol anyway. You comb your wet hair back, shaking it to let the excess water out. You are wet, but not drenched, yet. The fun was just getting started. Your friend whispers something in your ear—something about getting drinks for you. You smile at her and gently take the drink she offers you—a non-alcoholic one. It’s too early to get wasted. After having more talks and giggling with your friend, she suddenly squeals and you whip your head to the stage. Ah, another band is performing on stage. And it’s exactly who you think it is.

Choi San’s shirt clings onto his skin, pulling taut against chest, his nipples just peaking beneath the sheer fabric, teasing your eyes. You glance up and down at him, swallowing every single part of San with your eyes like a full course meal, forcing yourself to show as minimal reaction as possible. Seonghwa told you that San’s outfit was safe but dangerous—whatever the fuck that even meant. Dangerous is an understatement—San looks deadly. He had removed his hat and hung it on his ripped, baggy jeans, sweat and water just trickling down his temple to his jaw, down his throat, and sinking into the sheer ass fabric clinging onto dear life on his skin. Before you realise it, San catches your eye, and his lips curl into a smirk as he continues to pour and drench himself with another bottle of water. You swore to yourself that you’d never let him have the satisfaction that San just crawled into the crevices of your mind like a parasite. Fuck. Your eye contact meets his, determined not to lose this round. This only seems to rile him up a little more and he cuts the eye contact shortly after, going off to the other side of the stage. You exhale, combing your wet hair back again, feeling like you went through the most intense battle for some reason.

Just then Seonghwa walks over and meets your eyes, flashing a small smile. He, too, looks absolutely delectable—his white turtleneck drenched, pressing against his skin and a whole line of zipper just censoring his nipples at the perfect spot. What a fucking tease. He glances at San who catches his gaze before turning back to you, his hand on the water cannon. Before you know it, it sprays and absolutely drenches you. Your friend squeals and has her arm up with her drink in surprise. The white tank presses onto your skin and while you were wearing a bikini top, it somehow looked even sinful since now your chest was becoming more visible. You push your completely drenched hair back and your eyes search for Seonghwa on the stage. He’s obviously left the scene of the crime, whispering to San about something as San passes him. San’s gaze turns to you, and his expression unreadable as he lingers on you. You stare back and smile innocently. This felt bad for some reason, and you weren’t even the one who insinuated it.

The band finishes their set and you excuse yourself, threading yourself back out of the crowd. Your friend follows you out for a quick breather as well. “Toilet” she says. “I’ll call you when I’m done.”

You nod as you watch her disappear into the distance. You walk the opposite direction, pulling out your phone from your mini shoulder bag. You reach to a more isolated area in the festival. The music was still beating pretty loudly in your ears and you comb your hair back again, getting the wet strands from your face to check your phone. A presence appears in front of you and you look up. San is staring down at you. Up close, he looks even more heavenly, his expression still unreadable.

He breaks into a small smile. “Damn. Seonghwa really got you huh.”

“What brings you here, San?” You ask, locking your phone and crossing your arms. You’re not sure if your heartbeat is accelerating from the music or because San is standing before you.

“Saw you in the crowd. Didn’t expect you to be here”, San says as he leans towards you.

“Of course. Came here to see Hwa”, you mention, pressing your bottom lip with your left index finger, tilting your head a little, your eyes feign playing dumb as your gaze flicker from San’s to somewhere else. You hear San take a breath, sounding irritated. You peek at your peripheral vision and oh boy, you definitely pushed a button or two in San. Such a gullible man.

“Right, that totally seems like that case.” You both know that’s a lie. The both of you were like playing some kind of cat and mouse game ever since the accident of when you ended up making out with San at a pub in your drunken stupor as a dare from one your friends. What you didn’t realise was that he was from a rising boy band at the time and you ended up befriending the four out of eight boys who were at the scene—including Seonghwa. But you were obviously attracted to San. Obviously. And you would never let him know. The only problem was that the kiss had you hooked. He was way too good at it. The way he pushed himself to you as your lips locked. The way he had combed your hair back during the kiss. The way he had you cornered.

Just like right now.

“Do you want to go find him?” San asks after a moment of silence. You can’t identify if he was being sarcastic or genuine but you decide to play along. “Why not? I’m giving him a piece of my mind for drenching me like this”, you reply, tugging the collar of the tank top, and San’s eyes fall right onto your chest. Oh dear. You forgot about that.

San smiles and puts his hand out for you to take, and you do. “Won’t you get swarmed by fans walking out in the open like this?” He shakes his head. “We got a staff shortcut.”

His grip was firm yet gentle, as if he didn’t want to let you go, not yet. Your heart continuously beats, and you worry that San could hear it at any point of time now.

The both of you reach a more quiet and isolated space at the festival, in front of a trailer. It probably is the band’s trailer. San unlocks the door and invites you in.

Of course, Seonghwa wasn’t there. You already knew. He obviously was not going to let you meet Seonghwa. You hear the sound of the door being closed and locked. Instead of panicking, you turn to the couch and sit, making yourself comfortable. “Where’s Hwa?” You provoke. San only inches closer. There’s a glint of guilt that flashes in his eyes for a moment.

“I lied. I’m sorry” He admits, as he brushes his hair back. “Do you really like him that much?” Fuck, he’s so cute when he’s soft like that.

“What if I say I do?”

An expression of hurt flashes across his face for a moment. Or was it jealousy?

He pouts, and it sends your heart into a spiral. Was he the same dude drenched and smirking on stage like 15 minutes ago?

“Really?” He confirms, stepping closer. You feel your breath hitch.

“No”, you plaster a smile, “I lied too”

This automatically puts a smile on San’s face. His hair was partially dried, so was his tank. It was still damp and the fabric still clings onto his chest. You swallow. Not to mention up close and personal.

“Hey y/n, I couldn’t stop thinking about you ever since the pub” and that leaves your face flushing. The only thing that flashes through your mind was how fucking good he feels in your mouth. “You tasted so unforgettable.”

“Can we go further than that?” He pursues, this time right in front of you. He tilts in, trying to close the distance between the both of you. But at that moment, the couch suddenly vibrates. The both of you jump at the sensation. You crawl to the position of where you phone (which was in your bag) was lying, and San stays put at where he’s at, his gaze following your movements.

You pull out your phone from your bag, and the phone lights up with your friend’s caller ID. You look up at San. “Excuse me for a moment”, you say and put the phone up to your ear as you slide to answer. Your friend asks you where are you, and that she’s out of the toilet.

“I’m…in the middle of something”, you reply, your eyes darting to San, who’s staring at you intently. “I’ll call you when I’m done. Enjoy the rest of the festival!” Your friend laughs and replies with an “okay!” before hanging up. You lower your phone from your ear and stuff it back into your bag. The moment you turn your head, San closes the distance between the both of you, hungry and needy. His lips pressing yours, gently pushing his tongue in to part your lips.

There it is—this feeling of fireworks just going off in your head when he kisses you like that. You almost go giddy as you feel your lower abdomen flutter in pleasure. Fuck this feels so good. You intertwine your fingers against his bright red locks of hair and tug a little in case you fall somewhere. This only elicits a soft moan out of San, and pulls back for a moment, his lips now red and swollen from kissing you hard. His eyes look slightly glazed and you can’t imagine how you are looking—you just know you want him to start fucking you right about now. He leans his head towards your neck and starts peppering your neck with kisses, sending jolts down your spine, and your pussy. Goosebumps scatter throughout your skin as you felt something loosen—your bikini top. The clothing piece falls limply as the knot gets undone by San, and with a swift motion, he tugs the bikini top by the string and down it goes, removed from beneath your shirt. You feel the tank top fabric stick to your nipples and the sensation makes you gasp a little. San only continues to trail his kisses down to your tits and when he gets there, he lifts the hem of your top up, letting it cling to the skin above your tits, and then sucks delicately on your right nipple. This only pools the area between your legs.

“Fuck.. San..” you barely manage out. San brings up his other hand and pinches your left nipple. Your hand goes to his hair and you tug again—this time from the pleasure jolting right between your legs. San moans again. He removes his lips and switches over to the left nipple. This pushes out a moan on your end. Oh my god, his tongue feels so good.

You continue to brush his hair back in pleasure as he licks and sucks in your nipple like some kind of candy. Suddenly he removes his hands and lips entirely, leaving you gasping at the lack of touch.

“Remove your sandals” San instructs, and you kick them off easily. He shifts his position so that you’re seated on his lap, straddling him, and that’s when you realise his hard on just pressing against your pussy. That just excites you even more.

San smoothes his palms up and down you—from your chest—not forgetting to play with your nipples—all the way to your thighs—dangerously close to your cunt. “So what do you want me to do, y/n?”, he asks, almost in a whisper, since his face is so close to yours.

Your eyes gaze to his damp shirt and you brush your hands against his nipples. San whimpers in surprise, and you feel his cock harden even more beneath you. His eyes open slightly as his head tilts back a little. “Do you like teasing me that much?”

You smile in reply. “I can’t help it if every part of you is fuckable.” And that kind of snaps something in San. He goes in for another needy kiss and this time your tits rub against his chest through the thin and wet fabric, causing you to moan in between kisses. You also start to grind your hips against his, desperate for some skin.

San pauses the make out session, leaving you half lidded and breathing heavily. It was starting to be difficult to cling onto any sense of sanity left. You feel him reaching for his pants and unbuckling, he’s acting like he’s doing it steadily but it’s evident that he’s rushing to let his cock spring out. Another hand slides to your pussy, and he pushes the sweat shorts aside, along with your panties—right to your clit.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already y/n” he breathes out. “I can’t wait to fuck you”. He bites his lip as he rubs your clit. His other hand grabs yours and has you rub him off—his cock at a significant length, but more on the girthy side. How the hell is that gonna fit in you.

He continues to rub your clit in slow, circular motions and you could barely focus on pumping San out. Each flick felt like a tickle that only thinned your sanity even more, the jolts of pleasure coming in non-stop. “…so good” you barely manage out. “Keep doing that San”.

The knot in your stomach tugs from the pleasure and you feel it building rapidly. You are definitely not going to survive this. It feels like fucking heaven. San continues to kiss your neck and suck on your skin, littering your shoulders with faint, red marks, adding into the pleasure even more. He continues to encourage you to keep up moaning, because it’s making him feel amazing too and whatever else. You were feeling too good to process his sweet nothings.

That was when you feel your climax reaching. Your legs trembling slightly as San’s fingers brushed against your nub once more, the feeling growing more intense by the second.

“Ah fuck-“you cry out. “S-san-“ All he does is continue to flick your clit. By now you let go of his cock because your focus was out of the window, only staring right into San’s gorgeous eyes, half lidded as he wraps his fingers around your neck. Oh fuck. You feel it building.

“San, I’m coming-“you whine, over and over as your body shakes in pleasure, your eyes rolling back as San now presses against your clit, sending even more shockwaves through your system. He lets your ride out your orgasm.

“You look so pretty when you come”, San whispers as he removes his hand from your name and combs back your hair. “We’re not done yet though.” Before you could reply, he pushes the fabric of your pants and panties further to the side, taking your hand and having you hold the pants to the side, your pussy exposed even more. It doesn’t take you long to realise what he’s trying to do and you start taking action. Lifting your hips up, your free hand holds San’s cock as you line up to your entrance, and then you push down, taking him in instantly.

FUCK. The pleasure jolts in you so much and you wonder if you can keep your eyes open as he fucks you. The overstimulation felt so amazing. His cock is buried deep inside you and it feels so fucking full. San gasps as well, his eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck, y/n, you feel so good, squeezing me out like this”, he whimpers. You crash your lips into his, and he hungrily devours you. His moans mixed with yours as you start moving slowly, starting at a slow pace.

Moans start to fill the trailer, so do the sounds of wet skin slapping. Every time you ride and lift your pussy off his cock, you cry out in pleasure, only for San to slam you down, balls deep in you again. You lean in to his shoulder and kiss his neck in an effort to hold back your moans. His hands reach for your ass and he slaps it, the sound bouncing off the walls, and you jumping before sinking right back into his dick.

“You take me so well”, he whispers in your ear. “I can’t wait to start fucking you everywhere. Then you’ll be only thinking of me”. His possessiveness only turning you on a little more.

Just then, the door suddenly knocks. The both of you freeze for a moment. The tapping continues. “San, are you there? Manager needs us in fifteen.”

It was Seonghwa. San suddenly lifts you off his lap and cock before turning you over to face the door. Your heartbeat quickens. What the hell is he trying to do? Before you could protest, he slips his cock right back into you, and you go limp, falling back to his chest and head supported by his shoulders. He fucks you with your legs open like that. “There he is, your little crush. If he has the key and unlocks the door, he’s gonna see you like this. What would Hwa think?” San presses. He’d think you were a whore, being fucked out, balls deep by Choi San.

“He’s not my crush. You are. I love how fuck me like this”, you cry out softly, still bouncing off his cock. You don’t know what washed over you to confess that but it already slipped out. San pauses for a second, and you feel him smile, you also feel his cock grow in your pussy. “Yeah sure! I’ll be there!” San strains. The footsteps shuffle away, and your heartbeat starts to slow down.

“Really?” San asks, both of his hands flicking your nipples. Fuck, you can’t answer, not like this. “Yes. San, please, don’t stop” you confirm. San bites your ear gently as he pounds into you. God, your face must be looking so fucked and glazed over.

You feel his movements getting erratic and sloppier. “I’m close”, he exhales. His hands travel down to your thighs as he strokes them gently.

“Please”, you whine. “You can release in me”. And that snaps whatever sanity San had left as he fucks right into you and paints your insides with his cum. He keeps moaning in your ears about how good your pussy feels, how he’s going insane. He slowly pulls out and shudders at the overstimulation from emptying out in you. Cum trickles down your pussy and that sight almost made him hard again. Almost.

San puts you aside as he reaches out for a box of tissues to clean yourself up with. He also reaches out to clean your pussy up when he’s done wiping down his dick.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” San asks, stroking your head. You shake your head as you hand him the used tissues. He lifts up your shirt, which makes you squeal in surprise.

“Hold your shirt up. I’m tying your top back on,” he assures. He fits bikini over your chest and knots the string to tighten it. The butterflies are back in your stomach as you feel his touch. He walks over to the bin and throws the tissues and washes his hands over at the sink. You follow him over and wrap your arms around his waist, which takes him by surprise. “I’m still pretty soaked you know” he says. You laugh, snuggling against his back even more.

“Will I see you again?” you ask, reluctant to let go. You know it would be difficult because he was an idol, and you were just someone else. He lifts your arms off him, turns around, and fits your arms around his waist again, this time facing you. He just looks so fucking good from every angle. He could put the Greek Gods to shame.

San smiles at you and presses a soft kiss onto your forehead, you completely melt under his touch. “I might be a little busy because of scheduling but during my pockets of free time, I’ll find you.” He takes your hand towards the trailer door. He unlocks the door and pushes it ajar, checking if the coast is clear. He pushes the door wider, and you follow him. The both of you walk hand in hand for awhile until he lets go.

“I’ll be off first. See you around y/n. That was an amazing time with you”, he smiles, and you see a tint of pink colouring across his tanned skin. You take his hand and kiss his palm. “See you”, you reply. He pulls you into a hug and your heart flutters again. Another kiss planted on your forehead and he waves goodbye before disappearing.

Oh dear. Looks like you’re head over heels for sure.

#choi san smut #ateez #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #choi san #ateez san #ateez imagines

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hannie-dul-set · 20 days

Text

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [3].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, talks about stalking, talks about death, data privacy violations, so much emotional whiplash yummy, a very long conversation, google dependent historical information. WORD COUNT. 6.3k.

NOTE. this chapter finally made its way out hell 😭😭😭 per usual, please let me know your thoughts on the chapter! a single comment on ao3 inspired me to finish this, so ur feedback really means a lot! enjoy<3

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 3 — can we go back to being parasocial?

IF SOMEONE HEARS YOUR SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS THAT UNFOLDED WITHIN THE PAST FEW DAYS, they may accuse you of lying. Delusional, even. You’d think the same had you not been the center of it all— yet the proof is in your pockets. Your phone. In the album Choi Yeonjun failed to sign, stuffed inside your bag at the last minute before you left your apartment earlier.

The summary. Right. Yes.

“Can they stop sharing that video of Yeonjun excessively flirting with a fan?! I’m going to kill myself if I see it one more time.”

You were lucky enough to nab a fansign slot. But instead of getting Choi Yeonjun’s signature, you ended up getting a kiss of a hand instead, along with a scrawl of numbers on your album that you’re far too terrified to try to dial.

“Hey, send me our photo with Soobin the other day,” nudges Huening from beside you. “I’m gonna print it out and put it in a locket and use it as a family heirloom.”

You bumped into one of your favorite actors, Choi Soobin, in the middle of a late night convenience store run with your friends to fuel your group all nighter, stained his shirt with your ice cream, and got a photo with him in the process.

“By the way, have you called the business card yet? What are you gonna do with your broken phone screen?”

And Choi Beomgyu may or may not have professed his undying love for you, asked for your hand in marriage, and started crying in front of you in less than ten fucking minutes.

“She’s zoned out.”

The problem is, you can’t even bask in the delightful absurdity of it all because one common thread from all those three separate instances has been keeping you up for nights. It’s clawing at your brain, lingering in the back of your mind like an incessant stalker— which, mind you, is not a pleasant feeling when the very causes of such disturbance were once the bringers of joy and all things good in your otherwise meaningless life as a cog in the capitalist machinery that is society.

“Hello? Are you awake?”

Said problem being the fact that you’re pretty sure they all called you by your name at one point.

How the fuck do they know your name?

“I deleted Twitter. I Airdropped it to you. No, I have not called it yet. Now please let me think in peace.”

Crazy. This is all too crazy. In the first place, what are the odds that you bump into three celebrities within one week’s time? Is this some sort of prank, or something? Are those three filming a hidden camera show together? No, no. That couldn’t be because there’s no fucking way a company is sane enough to stage a risky hidden camera prank during a fansign knowing full well how obsessive and insane fans can get. You’re lucky your face wasn’t caught in any of the videos circulating online— video of you and Choi Yeonjun, mostly him, acting out a fucking sageuk. You’re lucky you haven’t been doxxed yet.

“Finish your sandwich,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, nudging your food closer to you, and you sigh heavily. Maybe you’re just wrong, you think, taking a bite from the bread. Maybe this is just a misunderstanding. Maybe you’re just overthinking.

You eat your lunch and steal some wet wipes from Gaeul in between. Right. It’s not like you’re ever gonna bump into them again. You live in, as cliche as it sounds, two different worlds after all. You’re just gonna watch their dramas, listen to their music, enjoy their performances, and that’s it that’s it that’s it.

“Prof Jang sent a message. Class is canceled.”

But still—

“Woohoo! Let’s go to the new dessert shop that opened downtown.”

Choi Beomgyu’s voice saying I love you, Choi Soobin’s cologne wafting in the air you were breathing in, and Choi Yeonjun’s lips pressed against your skin.

How can a sane person just forget about all of that?!

“Why do you look like you’re fantasizing about perverted shit?” Woohyun slaps you in the face with a reality check. This is fucking stupid.

“I’m not fantasizing,” you grunt, because they were events that actually fucking happened— they weren’t birthed from your brain’s insanity. “Anyway, dessert? Where is it?” You ignore your burning face, hoping that your friends decide to ignore it too, but Gaeul has her eyes narrowed at you. Crap. She didn’t recognize that it’s you in the videos right? Holy fucking hell, you’d rather die.

“Aren’t you gonna answer that?”

Oh. Well. That’s— that’s something. A good something because she hasn’t suspected you yet, moitioning instead to your cracked phone that has been buzzing under your notice because you’ve been thinking way too fucking much.

You check the caller ID, but it’s an unknown number, and it doesn’t match the business card you got from your run in with the alleged Choi Beomgyu. “Hello?” you answer, and a voice you don’t recognize says your name and asks if it’s you. “Yes, this is her. Who’s this?”

Another item added to the weird as fuck things that happened to your this week. You excuse yourself from your friends, and with knitted brows, you listen to the stranger at the other end of the line. “You met Choi Soobin the other day at a 7-Eleven in Gangnam, right?” The fuck? Did someone see you that day? Is this a stalker? “This is his manager. Lee Byeongho. I would like to speak with you regarding a certain matter.”

Now, hold the fucking phone.

“Is everything alright?”

You respond to Huening’s concern with a stiff smile before turning away from them. “Did I do something wrong?” you fuss into the call. “I didn’t post any of the photos from that day. I never talked about it online either, and I’m pretty sure my friends haven’t either. Wait. Wait a minute. How did you get my number?”

“Yes, it was difficult to obtain knowing only your first name and university.” That doesn’t answer your question. That just gave you more questions. “But, no. You aren’t in trouble. Actually...I called because you’re the only one who can help us— help Soobin— get out of trouble.”

Your face scrunches up.

“I’m at your campus right now. Parking lot. Do you mind meeting me for a moment?”

Just what did you get yourself into?

“You haven’t finished your food. Where are you going?”

“Somewhere,” you reply, quickly snatching your half-eaten sandwich from the table as your friends follow your swift movements with matching looks of confusion. “I’ll be right back. It’s nothing, don’t worry.” However, you are quite worried. You’re pretty sure Lee Manager, or whatever, is committing some data privacy crimes against you, but the one thing you want at the moment is answers. Your brain is about to explode from all the fucking questions and confusion. There’s a sliver of hope that meeting up with this sketchy guy can answer a few of them. You’d take that chance to air out your head.

There’s a black van in the parking lot. It’s the first thing you noticed because one of its doors are open, and there’s a familiar looking guy waiting just in front of the exposed seats.

He notices you approaching. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says. What’s with men you’re meeting for the first time treating you with familiarity? You’re going to rip your hair out and throw yourself into moving traffic.

“Sure, but can you get to the point?” you stiffly say. “I’m a little busy. I still have classes in a bit.”

“Of course, I’m sorry. This whole situation must’ve come off as a shock to you.” Great, now you’re feeling bad. Soobin’s manager (allegedly) looks like he’s been through a whole lot as well. “Anyway. You are a fan of Choi Soobin, correct?”

“Well,” you blink. “Yes.”

“How about the dramas Kang Jaehee has written and directed?” he follows up. “Are you a fan of those as well?”

Your brows furrow. “I guess?” Peach Tree. That Summer. Mogi. Those are the titles that come right at the top of your head. “What does that have to do anything with me?” Manager Lee spares you a look of pity. You feel like this meet-up is just set out to making you even more fucking confused.

“I sincerely apologize. I didn’t want to drag you into this either, but I’m afraid you’re the only option I have,” says Manager Lee despondently. “Since...since you are a fan of Soobin, and I assume that means you also care about his career, so—”

He pauses. Like he’s practicing the next set of words he’s about to say inside his head.

“—do you mind meeting up with him to convince him to take the lead role for Kang Jaehee’s upcoming drama?”

But nothing could’ve prepared you for that.

What.

What the fuck?

“Mr Manager. Sir,” you start, appalled beyond comprehension. “I’d appreciate it if you start making a bit more sense.”

“Trust me, I can’t believe I’m doing this either.”

You’re speechless. Your mouth is hanging open with no words coming out because, again, what the fuck? Manager Lee looks just as defeated as you, as if he weren’t the one who had just presented that ridiculous proposal. You are, quite frankly, at a discernible loss.

Manager Lee lets out a sigh and digs a hand into his pocket. “I’m afraid this is all the time I have today. But please contact me once you’ve made a decision.” Another business card acquired. This is just dandy. “I am really hoping for your cooperation, miss. I’m sure you’re aware of Soobin’s inactivity lately, and my intention of approaching you today is simply in order to help my star’s career. Please consider the favor positively, and we will compensate you as much as my authority can allow.”

With that, you’re left with another laminated piece of paper in your hands. Gosh. This is a headache. When you get back to your friends, they notice the distress you’re in, further justifying a visit to the new dessert store, and seeing how your soul has completely left your body, you’re dragged along with them with ease.

“Hey, pick one. My treat,” says Woohyun. You let out a grunt and point at a random pastry on display. Next thing you know, you’re seated in between Huening and Gaeul at the store you don’t even know the name of.

Huening is force feeding you an eclair. “Eat.” Your scowl disappears when you allow the eclair entry into your mouth. “Seriously, what’s going on with you? Who did you meet earlier?”

Seeing as you show absolutely no intentions of telling them, they refuse to question you about it further. Good on them, because there’s no way in hell you’re spilling your predicament. Not until you find out exactly what kind of situation you’re in, at the very least. The two business cards feel like they’re weighing your pockets down, a constant reminder of their existence along with the scrawl Yeonjun left behind.

“I know exactly how to make you feel better.”

The declaration comes from Gaeul, who slides her phone over to you, and when you look down to see what exactly her miracle medicine is to make you feel less manic, you hack out a cough upon seeing Choi Yeonjun’s face on her phone screen. “The hell is wrong with you?” asks Taehyun from across, giving you some water to push down the eclair lodged in your throat. “I know you like him, but even that is an overreaction.”

Jesus, you’re close to losing it. When you’ve avoided choking to death, Gaeul puts an airpod into your ear, and you hear Yeonjun reading out some comments. “Choi Yeonjun, you look really happy lately, did something good happen? someone asked,” he says while having snacks of his own. “First of all, why are you calling me Choi Yeonjun? It’s like you’re putting a wall between us. I don’t like it.”

Gaeul makes a noise of some sort and had you not been subjected to this week’s insanities, you might have reacted the same way too. Instead, you simply listen to his live in caution, feigning disinterest as you watch him nibble on some pretzels and churros through the screen, continuing to answer the slew of questions in the comments.

“Anyway, you’re right! Something good did happen.” Yeonjun hums while picking out a pretzel from the paper bag, rustling noise and a lively tune filling the audio for a moment— a short moment, right before he continues speaking. “That’s because I finally met the love of my life.”

Taehyun has to give you his water again.

“Oh? Oho, what’s with the exclamation points?” he laughs. “Did I meet them the other day? Hmm...that’s a secret. You’re curious? You think it might be you? Well, let’s see. Should I describe her?”

“God, he’s so fucking messy,” says Gaeul from beside you. “This is why I like him. How many calls is he getting for his manager and company this time?”

“What’s going on? Why is she so startled?”

“Yeonjun’s talking about his apparent soulmate, I don’t know. Wanna listen?”

“Didn’t he get in trouble for doing the same thing last time too?”

Now, you’re not one to give a shit about his love life, and you like to stay out of that side of celebrity gossip as much as you can, but Choi Yeonjun himself is droning on about the love of his life right now. You can’t not hear about it even if you want to. However, as much as you want to let things come into one ear and out through the other, you can’t. Because— wait. Wait. His description is eerily familiar. His description is making you double take and second guess what you’re fucking hearing.

“Sounds a lot like you,” Taehyun remarks without much thought, right after Choi Yeonjun says that the girl he likes has a bit of an attitude, but he likes that about her.

Huening lets out a snort. “Yeah, that’s definitely you. Why don’t you go in a wedding dress the next time you attend a fansign? Who knows, you might have a shot.”

You snap them a dirty look. Fuck. This is making your head spin. For the second time, Choi Yeonjun’s tendency of putting himself into headlines and the trending searches for doing something insane is giving you nothing but stress.

“I did give her my number, but she hasn’t messaged me yet, so I’m quite hurt.”

Number. Hold on a fucking second.

“The comments are going crazy.”

You grab your bag from underneath you, dropping it down to your lap.

“Hey, if you’re watching this, pl—eeeeease contact me. Kim Noona thinks I have a phone addiction now because I’ve been dying waiting for your call.”

You quickly get up from your seat.

“Yo, where are you going this time?”

“I need a minute,” you announce, eyes scanning the store for a quiet place alone while hugging your bag to your chest. There’s nowhere. Looks like you have to get out.

“Damn, we were just joking. As if you have a chance with a celebrity like him.”

Huening’s joke is ignored and you quickly leave outside the doors, making a sharp turn around the corner, slipping through the passersby downtown until you find an empty alley. Your heart is racing. Your heart is racing like crazy and you may be reaching right now. You may be acting crazy, but what Choi Beomgyu said during the interview with Yeong-Il the other day is echoing in your mind, and— in conjunction with everything else that had happened— you’re starting to think that maybe he wasn’t joking.

Your cracked phone screen greets you when you take it out of your pocket. On your other hand is the first business card you got this week.

“Who’s this?”

“Hello. Good day.” You tell them your name, the events that led up to you receiving this number, with the hope that maybe you’re finally on to something. “I’d like to talk about the compensation for my broken phone.”

Whatever that something is, you’re gonna get to the bottom of it.

It’s already beyond closing time at Kwiyeomdongmoim Cafe (a mouthful, you know), yet your pink apron is still neatly tied around your waist as you pace back and forth, to and fro, in circles inside the breakroom. The time is half-past nine in the evening. You should’ve clocked out thirty minutes ago, but you’re still waiting.

The knock on the door signified the end of your wait. You turn to see your boss’s head popping in through the half-open crack.

“Three guys are waiting for you,” informs Seokmin. “They all seem handsome. Are they your suitors?”

When you ditched your friends at the still unnamed dessert store the other day, you did it to make a few calls. Three, to be exact. Today is the culmination of those calls, which is why you’ve been erratically nervous the entire freaking day. Choi Soobin, Choi Beomyu, and Choi Yeonjun’s managers all answered respectively when you called all the sketchy numbers you got and made some negotiations (apparently, the mess on your album is Yeonjun’s number, but he got his phone confiscated after that livestream).

“As if,” you say, walking up to the door leading back into the cafe. Suitors, more like stalkers. Fans stalking their idols is common, but the other way around is a pretty fresh idea. “Anyway, thanks, Kyeom. Thank you for letting me use the store for a while.” Because this is the only private place you can think of outside of your own home— and there’s no way in hell you’re letting them in there when you don’t even know how they managed to get hold of your personal information.

“We’re closed anyway.” Seokmin smiles and makes way for you to pass by. “Go ahead and do your thing. Do you want me to stay inside or keep watch?”

“You can stay inside, it’s alright.”

He nods. “Call me when you’re done. Scream if you need backup. I can handle all of them.”

You laugh and thank him once more, a pat on his arm before you decide to peek out the door first as a precautionary measure. From your spot, you can see three thoroughly covered men in windbreakers, caps, and masks sitting on three separate tables in the store. The blinds have already been rolled down, so you can’t see anything outside, but there doesn’t appear to be any cameras around, so you take it as a safe sign to finally leave your hiding spot.

The moment you do, the break room door creaks, and all three pairs of eyes immediately fall on you.

They stand up. They call out your name in unison.

Holy shit.

And when they do, they all look at each other with a sudden flash of hostility in the air.

Um. Well. How are you supposed to do this? “H—hello,” you manage to squeak out, prompting their attention once more. Soobin takes off his cap and removes his mask, the other two following suit, and oh my god. Oh my god. You suck in a deep breath. Today, you are not a fan. You are an interrogator. This is not a fansign. This is an interrogation.

“I— uh, I asked your managers if I can meet you all to—today for a specific reason.” Wow. Good job. Your hands are shaking and you can’t look up from the floor or else you’d start losing your mind. “But—but, before that— would...would you like some drinks…?”

Interrogation paused. You need to get your shit together first.

“Please enjoy.”

With the help of your boss (because your hands wouldn’t stop shaking and you dropped the first one you made), you managed to whip up four iced teas and settle all three of them into one table at the very back of the store. You send a stiff smile at Seokmin after he placed all the drinks on the table.

God, you owe him so much— especially when he’s being unreasonably glared at by the three men sitting with you right now. Choi Beomgyu to your left, Choi Soobin to your right, Choi Yeonjun directly across from you and holy fuck, you have yet to look at them properly yet for your own safety. They haven’t been talking to each other either, simply sitting and waiting for you to speak. You’re pretty sure they know each other though, at least by name, being in the same industry and all.

To say that the tension in the air is suffocation would be an understatement. How...how do you start this? The fuck should you say first?

“You know, I was really happy when Kim Noona told me you called.”

Apparently you don’t have to start it. Choi Yeonjun does it for you.

“But why are these two crashing our date?”

And that’s when things also start to get messy.

“Date?” Choi Soobin interjects. He sounds offended. Why does he sound offended. “What are you talking about?”

Choi Yeonjun doesn’t get a chance to make his case. Because Choi Beomgyu from your left suddenly snatches one of your hands from the table, prompting you to look at one of them for the first time tonight, and your eyes fly wide open. “I’d...like to apologize for the other day. I was just overtaken by my emotions. I hope you weren’t too freaked out.”

You are quite freaked out because holy shit, this is too much maybe. Not maybe. Yes. This is too much. Too. Much.“Hey, why are you holding her hand?!” you hear Choi Soobin exclaim from your other side. Choi Beomgyu’s soft expression suddenly disappears into a glare and a sneer the moment he shifts his gaze.

“You’re holding her hand too!”

“Why can’t I?!”

“Hey, this isn’t fair! One of you switch with me—”

Dizzy. You’re feeling dizzy. Your head is spinning and you’re suffocating from the heat emanating from your very face. Whatever they’re arguing about isn’t even reaching your ears anymore. You’re getting lightheaded and your sweaty hands start slipping out from the two’s weirdly tender hold on your hands because your body is physically breaking down.

“Shut up! Oh my god, my head—”

Your vision actually starts spinning for a second so you quickly bring the bottom of your palms to your temples, elbows on the table to balance yourself, only to be wobbled and shaken because the three suddenly jolted off their seats in panic.

“Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine, just please—for the love of god— sit down and shut up.”

They sit down and shut up. You massage your temples in silence. You remove your hands from your face and, after sucking in a deep breath and releasing it thereafter, feel your heartbeat settling into a normal rate. As normal as it can get in this situation.

“Whew. Okay. I think I’m ready. Let’s get down to business.” Finally, you’re the one steering the conversation. You give each of them a once over as quickly as possible because now you know that prolonged eye contact will only hurt you. You settle with looking at the gaps between each of them. That’s fine. You’re fine. “Choi Soobin, Choi Yeonjun, Choi Beomgyu.”

It’s like three bulbs just lit up in succession. Your brain is starting to hurt.

“A—as I was saying, you three are some of South Korea’s biggest celebrities and although I am, in fact, a big fan of all three of you—” Why is Choi Soobin growing pink. Why the fuck is he blushing. “—that— that does not make me fail to recognize the amount of weird shit that’s been happening lately, and I think I need answers.”

They are still sitting down and shutting up. They listen to instructions well, at the very least.

“First, how the fuck did all three of you know my name without any prior introduction. Second—”

The words get clamped in your throat. It’s lodged in there very tightly because you make the mistake of looking one of them in the eye, only to notice that all three of them are looking at you with the same expression. An expression you can only describe as longing.

And your face starts burning.

“Se— second, why…why do you all keep looking at me like I’m an ex you want to get back together with…?”

Maybe you asked the wrong question.

Because for some reason they all look sad now. Really sad. Really fucking sad and it’s making your stomach clench and nerves all numb and funky because making three big celebrities all sad simultaneously is a bragging right at one end of the spectrum, and a national crime at the other.

It’s Choi Soobin who cracks the silence. “I…I had a feeling when I saw you again for the first time at the store.” Again? “Do you not remember me?”

Your face furrows. “No…? Did we ever meet before you became an actor?”

Hurt. The look of sadness has now spiraled into hurt and one might think you just stabbed and twisted a knife into his fucking gut. “How—how about me?” Your attention turns to Choi Yeonjun who isn’t looking any better. It’s like his entire world view was just proven to be wrong and why does it feel like you’re the one to blame.

What else can you do but shake your head in denial? Now he looks like he’d just been told he’s adopted!

“You’re…you’re joking,” he tries to laugh it off, but it only comes off as strained and shaky, then, in one fell swoop— desperate. “R—right…?”

“Great!”

Before you start feeling even shittier, Choi Beomgyu finally decides to join in.

“And here I thought her forgetting about me was the worst case scenario.” His tone is bitter. There’s a snap in his words. “I didn’t think there’d be other bastards in the same situation as me. God fucking damn it.”

There’s a moment of silence. You watch as realization hits the other while you’re still left in the dark. Choi Yeonjun juts his seat closer. Choi Soobin tries to reach a hesitant arm to your direction, but you’re tugged to the other side by Choi Beomgyu, who’s suddenly a little too, too close.

“Hey.”

Your hands are clamped together.

“I meant it when I said I love you. I do. I have loved you four hundred years ago and I still love you now, and if whatever god or deity decides to make you meet you for the third time, I’ll still love you then.”

Beomgyu’s holding both of them in between his in a firm grip.

“Second life is about you. Blue Spring is about you. You’re the person I’ve been waiting for from the beginning of this life until the last.”

Now, if this situation wasn’t crazy, your heart would be skipping a beat right now.

But it is crazy. This is fucking insane. And you look around to see that there’s a weird look of sympathy and understanding in the other Choi’s eyes, clearly not recognizing the visceral insanity of this situation, which fills you with a swallowing lump of existential dread. You pry your hands out of Beomgyu’s grasp (you swear you can hear glass breaking), and slowly turn to Choi Yeonjun and say, with a very hesitant, very cautious, “Y...you too…?”

The look on his face says it all. And then you swivel over to Choi Soobin.

“And you?”

“I’ve lo—”

“No!” you snap. “Don’t finish that sentence. Please. Oh my god.”

You see Seokmin popping his head out from the corner, mouthing an are you okay? and you shakily bring up a weak thumbs up. “Well, isn’t this interesting,” you hear Choi Yeonjun say, which feels like a slap in the face because what exactly is interesting about this. “Here I thought I was special.”

“Get off your high horse,” retorts Choi Soobin, a sneer in his voice. You double take. Choi Soobin is supposed to be sweet and gentle and kind. Who is this man? “Whatever kind of past you had with her doesn’t mean anything. I met her first. I met her at the end of King Danjong’s rule.”

“Ha!” Choi Yeonjun starts. “We got married under King Taejong. I’ve loved her before any of you did.”

Now, what the fuck?

Choi Soobin’s face pales and he chokes over his words. “M—married?”

There’s a smug grin on Choi Yeonjun’s face. He leans back against the chair with his arms crossed in victory. “You heard that correctly. Married. Pack up your bags. Unless you want me to tell you everything we did on our we—”

“Shut up, shut up, I don’t want to hear it!”

Marriage. King Danjong. King Taejong. Second life. The gears are churning inside your head. You don’t like the direction where the gears are pointing.

“What about you?”

Choi Yeonjun raises the question and the attention is now on Choi Beomgyu. He’s been quiet. The other two wait for him to say his piece— a feigned air of disdain and arrogance but there’s an unconcealable undertone of nervousness underneath it all. Your iced teas have been left untouched. Choi Beomgyu simply scoffs and presses his crossed arms against his chest.

“I have no reason to tell you any of that. This is between me and her.”

And at your mention, you receive the undivided attention of three pairs of eyes once more. Your heart rattles. God fucking damn it. Listen, you’re an avid consumer of the entertainment industry. You’ve watched a good amount of dramas and have read a good amount of manhwas to surmise a conclusion with the bits and pieces of stray information being tossed back and forth between the three. And it’s all ridiculous. But you have nothing else to work with unless they come spilling their guts themselves.

“So,” you clear your throat. “Are you three, like…a couple…hundred years old…?”

They all look offended.

“No!”

Well, maybe you’re wrong about that part. But after a very long, convoluted discussion, the “facts” (if you can even call it that), are finally laid down on your feet.

They say you’ve all met before. Separately, in three separate lifetimes, with this one allegedly being your fourth unless there were lives in between that they can’t remember. One thing for certain is that the three of them remember the life they had while loving you— and they loved you very much apparently because those feelings and memories got carried over even after they got reborn into the present day.

The problem is, you don’t have the same symptoms. You don’t remember anything about your past lives. Hell, you can’t even remember anything in this life before you hit two years old.

You slump in your seat. The table rattles. They get up from their chairs and come circling around you in concern.

“Are— are you okay, do you need to lie down? You could rest in my van for a while and—”

You swat Choi Yeonjun’s hand away before it could land on your shoulder. You’ve now got your hands on your face in stress, and peeking through you see Choi Soobin on your right, crouching down and looking up at you with furrowed brows and big, sad eyes. On your left is Choi Beomgyu, half-seated on the chair. You let out a very long, very anguished and muffled groan. This is too much. “If— if what you guys are saying is true,” you say. “What does it matter?”

There’s a tense pause in the air.

“What do you mean…?”

You spring up from your seat and turn around, Choi Yeonjun in front of you.

“I mean what does it all matter? King Sejeong, Joseon era, or whatever— I don’t care about all of that. We’re in the twenty-first century right now. I’m neither your lover nor your wife. I’m just a fan of your dramas and music and performances and that's it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t really want to see their faces right now. You let a huff of air slip past your lips, turning back around to collect the untouched glasses of drinks on the table.

“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet me and explain. I hope it’s all settled. Thanks for clearing everything up today. You can now all leave.”

It’s Choi Yeonjun who races after you when you make your firm and quick strides to the counter. He cuts off your path. “I—I don’t understand,” he chokes out. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze and see the threat of tears glazing his eyes. “What—what do you mean?”

Admittedly, that hurled a giant pang against your ribcage, knocking the air out of your chest, but you move forward. You brush past him, setting the glasses back on the counter, and— after a moment’s pause— you turn around, a heavy weight on your shoulders. It’s like gravity is trying to suck you deep into the mantle. “What I’m trying to say is we should all just get over what happened all those hundreds of years ago and live our lives in the present. I mean, I don’t know any of you. Don’t you think it’s unhealthy to keep clinging onto the past, especially when you guys are nothing but strangers to me in this life?”

Dead silence. You don’t dare look at any of them in the face. You try and retreat to the break room as quickly as you can, hands fumbling to untie your apron along the way, but you stumble over your steps, screeching to a halt the moment you hear someone say—

“Do you think it’s that easy?”

You could hear your heart in your eardrums.

It takes all the strength in your body for you to look back, to see the pained expression on Choi Beomgyu’s face standing the farthest away from you out of the three. “Do you think I put my name out there so that it’d be easier for you to find me, wrote all those songs about you in the hopes that I could see you again if you’re someone I can just easily forget?”

Your throat tightens. It’s like you’re swallowing a boulder.

“If you wanted me to forget about you, you shouldn’t have died right in front of me then. You shouldn’t have told me you loved me right before you went cold in my arms if you wanted me to fucking forget.”

Oh.

Oh, god.

Choi Yeonjun and Choi Soobin don’t look any better. It hits you that you might have been more than a little bit unfair.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t know your history. You don’t know what the fuck happened between you and them throughout those years that made them feel so strongly about you. But it must be harder for those who remember than for those who forgot.

It’s not like they chose to live in the present with half of their souls stuck in the past, either. You’ve been acting awfully unfair.

“I was being insensitive. I’m so sorry,” you exhale. Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Your head is spinning in circles. “But to be honest, this is all still very overwhelming, and I’m having a hard time comprehending and making sense of everything. It doesn’t feel real.” You try to take a step closer, but your legs give in. Choi Yeonjun quickly rushes to balance you back on your feet.

“Don’t push yourself,” he says, softly. You can’t look at him. God, these guys really know how to bring your guilt all the way home.

“Thanks, um, anyway—” You breathe in. Shit, you can’t believe you’re considering this. “Again, I really can’t and won’t be able to understand the magnitude of your— well, uh— feelings, since I really don’t remember anything. But how about…I spend some time with each of you individually, and maybe…maybe it can help in jogging back my memories?”

The atmosphere shifts. Ah. This feels like a fucking trap.

“You— you mean it?”

To be honest, you’d much rather just not deal with any of this, just stay at home and continue living your life with these three men as persons you only know behind the screen. But those looks in their eyes— hopeful and melancholic— make you feel your organs are being rearranged every five seconds, and you’d feel bad leaving them with the pain of this conversation especially after they poured out their hearts to you.

You can’t deny the joy and escape they’ve given you for the past couple of years you’ve spent as their fan. Maybe entertaining this unreality is the least you can do.

“I mean, well,” you start, clearing your throat. “Choi Beomgyu, you still need to pay for my phone. Choi Soobin, your manager wanted me to talk to you about something, and Choi Yeonjun—”

You look at the guy who still has one arm pressed against your back, two hands in a firm grip on your shoulders. He’s looking at you and batting his eyes expectantly. You let out a sigh and set yourself loose.

“I need to discuss something with you soon, too.” As in, please stop vaguely mentioning me in your live streams because I fear I might find an angry mob in front of my house. “I think I have all your contact information anyway.”

There aren’t any more reactions coming from them. This seems like the best possible solution for all of you. You sigh again. This has been an emotionally draining evening. You can’t wait to get some fucking rest.

“I’ll be in touch with you or your managers soon. For now, let’s call it a day.”

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

#tomorrow x together x reader #txt x reader #choi yeonjun x reader #choi soobin x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #txt scenarios #tomorrow x together scenarios #txt x you #tomorror x together x you #soobin x reader #yeonjun x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt fanfic #choi soobin x you #choi beomgyu x you #choi yeonjun x you

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flying-ham · 15 days

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since I just finished my big sansa embroidery project, I wanted to talk about the process of creating it and my inspiration

I was inspired by this piece that I stumbled across totally by accident. I was actually researching ptolemaic era egyptian weaving but found this 20th century embroidery and immediately thought of sansa. I created a sketch of sansa and lady in october of 2022 and then traced it on white cotton using a tracing pencil against my window.

I then began outlining my stitches with a chain stitch using a single strand of embroidery thread. I found that this was really nice for outlining while still blending my colors. For the cream colored thread on sansa’s dress I didn’t outline, which achieved a less blended and more distinct layered effect.

For the majority of the work, I used a technique called needle painting, where the artist uses a series of long and short stitches involving various shades of single strand embroidery thread. This technique was used for the entirety of sansa and lady’s figures.

The weirwood tree was a tricky piece for me to work on. Initially I used a technique of horizontal satin stitches to fill in the tree, but ultimately restarted and chose to do vertical chain stitches to imitate real tree bark. I used three shades of tan and cream, using a single strand of the darkest shade, two strands of the medium shade, and three strands of the darkest shade. This created an effect also similar to real tree bark, which I tried to capture in the second picture.

The final touch was adding sansa’s hairnet. I used a metallic silver thread and clear beads, basing it on the amethyst hairnet used to murder joffrey. While the amethysts in the book are black, I used clear beads to match her home of winterfell, where her jewels would match the snowflakes in the godswood.

and that's sansa and lady! It may have taken over a year and a half on and off, but I'm super proud and excited about everything new that I learned and improved with embroidery throughout the process. If you have any questions or comments, my asks and messages are always open, I absolutely love talking about embroidery!!

#sansa stark #pro sansa stark #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #got #lady the direwolf #agot #a game of thrones #valyrianscrolls #long post #embroidery #hand embroidery #art #fanart #sansa fanart #my art #crafts

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mandibazaar · 2 years

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MR Golden Cream Single Thread - Rakhi Collection in New Zealand

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shalotttower · 4 months

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Fractalize (part 2)

Title: Fractalize Fandom: Hunter x Hunter Summary: "You do this sometimes," he continues, tugging a bit harder. "When I ask a question and it takes you longer to respond. When we watch a movie, and I'm sure you stopped following at least twenty minutes ago." Word count: 2100+ Characters: Chrollo x Reader (female) Notes: yandere Chrollo, kidnapped, depressed and miserable Reader, Reader is dissociating, morbid pondering, morbid imagery, psychological manipulation, intrusive thoughts, non-con touching, non-con kiss. I start thinking that sad is probably my favourite genre to write at this point. Part 1 Part 3 is in question. I have some drafts, but not sure if it'll become anything.

Fractalize - making things into smaller copies of themselves over and over again.

Your mother always smelled of fresh linen and something powdery, like her face cream which you tried once in secret. The fragrance held you mesmerized, and when the jar accidentally dropped from your hand, shattering into pieces, it lingered everywhere: on the bathroom tiles, in the cracks and narrow space under the sink. Her silent disappointment was so overpowering that you cleaned the mess three times.

That scent clung to her knitting needles too when she sat with yarn on her lap. It made way into your mind place, waiting for the most inappropriate of moments to resurface: she would show you how to knit, loop after loop, and eventually you were able to create your own tiny scarf.

Hideous, that's what it was.

But also the first thing you ever knitted, so you cherished it, not caring for the holes and loose threads. She called it pretty, mothers do lie like that.

"I was thinking," Chrollo begins. Clean plates are stacked next to a dish rack, ready to be dried. You help him sometimes with this mundane chore out of boredom or a faint allusion to the life you had.

"Mm."

When you stand so close, his shoulder occasionally touches yours, and a lump forms in your throat, a very unimportant physical aspect of your being that you've stopped paying attention to long ago. You swallow it away, like every single morning before putting on the same shirt for the eighth day in a row.

Dry and repeat.

"Is there anything specific you'd like to do today?"

You pick up another plate. How odd. A few months ago this question would've made you ecstatic. Not that there was a real chance to sway Chrollo's plans, but it was a gesture, the pretence that your input mattered, and you took everything from it, until it started tasting stale. A shy kind of feeling, misplaced and fragile, would bloom in your chest, and prompt you say something soft, silly and naive: 'maybe we can have a picnic?', 'I'd like a carrot cake', 'yes, I want to watch that period drama for the hundredth time.'

And he would agree sometimes. Or suggest his alternative instead, which turned out more often than not to be less favorable, but you accepted it because what else was there? In-between the walls decorated with expensive paintings, books you already read three times, between Chrollo who listened intently to every word and a faint buzz of some high-end place, you chose to take whatever you could.

It doesn't bother you anymore, going or not going. Doing nothing or doing something. Being with him in a room or being alone, even though the last one is more compelling. The initial excitement that came with having small choices has passed. You think sometimes that if you took a knitting needle and sunk it deep into your chest, the surface around it would start crumbling and bare a hollow cavity with just ribs and dusty spaces.

Chrollo's suggestions are very thought out. Aimed to convince you that this arrangement isn't that bad after all, but also aimed to bring him something from it, be it sitting uncomfortably close to you on a sofa or holding your hand the entire walk. His presence is stifling in more ways than one, and you've been choking, choking, choking on it for so long, that finally all those cracks running across your insides started to feel liberating.

"No," you say. "Not really. Anything you want is fine."

Chrollo's been asking this more often lately. What you want to eat and what you want to do. Even whether you want to go out sometimes (with him, of course, never alone). Perhaps he's trying to figure any new preference you might have. Or a part of him can sense this deterioration that's slow to set in, but once it does - it stays.

"Dear," there's a tone in his voice. It's not worry per se. Chrollo doesn't worry for you, he worries for that little world of his, made of forced interactions, silk bed sheets and fake domesticity, which you're a part of, an intricate cog he can keep closely tucked to his side. Sheltered, protected, cared for - these words don't fit. So you use other instead, like imprisoned, kept, thing. He likes to have them, from trinkets he steals to human beings - you. Maybe it comes from years of owning nothing at all, having nothing at all, and now the allure of having much and more is like second skin.

You've heard stories about children abandoned to their own devices. Those who were left to roam the streets, scavenge through trash and fight other kids for a half-eaten sandwich or a can of beans. You wonder if he was like that, with messy hair, bony limbs and a desperate need to own something that no one could take.

Bit by bit you slip.

That tone means he's sensing it already, that bit by bit you're trying to leave him behind.

Chrollo always catches up with things easily. From the way he grips your arms, you wonder if that's what he did just now, caught up.

"Yes?"

The dishes are all done, clean and sparkling. The sink shines too, almost mocking you with its perfectness - there's nothing to do anymore. Your mind space of fake wooden floors and wide windows is waiting to be occupied, but it would feel wrong to retreat there so soon. Chrollo will ask questions, and if you're not able to keep up, he'll notice too. He slides both palms down your skin, squeezing a tad harder at the elbows; and so you stare into the sink.

His hands aren't soft at all. They're a little dry from soap, callused around fingertips. How effortless it would be for him to break your bones, one by one, starting from the wrist, but that won't happen; no, all that comes from him is words whispered in your ear, caresses and cruelty wrapped in kindness - it sounds poetic when phrased this way.

Your reflection stares back from the stainless metal. She doesn't look bad. Chrollo takes good care of her, makes sure she eats balanced meals and drinks enough water. She looks alright, with shiny hair and healthy nails.

The eyes is what doesn't match this picture of okay-ness. Not empty. Not vacant. Just frozen in time and very, very still.

Chrollo presses closer until his chest is touching her shoulder blades. You wonder if he considers it a victory, this silent compliance. It's not acceptance really, because that should be accompanied by a sense of peace or fulfillment and none of the two are currently present. It's not even resignation - that requires energy to acknowledge defeat.

If neither of those, what is it then?

"You've been awfully quiet today."

A drop of water falls from the tap and slides down the drain.

"The whole week in fact," his thumb strokes her stomach through the fabric. Slow circles, up and down. Chrollo enjoys physical closeness so much that it should be surprising for someone like him - reserved, calm and collected - to thrive on such things, but you suppose when it comes to her there's an exception.

"Not that I mind it, but if something's bothering you, you know that I'm always ready to listen."

There is something bothering you actually. Many things. You want your cat back. You want him gone, away, to see your mother again and bake with her. Eat fresh pastries while listening to old songs on the radio and talk about silly things or whatever she liked to ponder over before you were swept off your feet like in those old fairy tales. You want your phone and accounts unlocked so you could message friends. You miss your grandmother with her apron, the way she laughed at corny jokes and told stories about her youth. You want many things that Chrollo would never agree on - you're well aware of that, that's why you keep them safely tucked away and rotting.

You also want him to stop pressing against your back, and this is far easier to achieve. Slowly you untuck yourself from between his body and the counter, then turn around. He watches your face calmly like always, with this unblinking gaze full of strange fixation; there are small lines in the corners of his eyes, barely noticeable ones. You count them - six in total, three for each eye.

Then you blink.

"I don't think there is anything."

"Really," Chrollo hums, playing with the hem of your shirt, and you wonder if he knows something you're not aware of him knowing. "You've spoken less than ten sentences in two days, yet there's nothing bothering you. I must say I don't believe that."

So this is how it's going to start. This is how the conversation begins, and it'll flow from here until Chrollo finds what he's searching for.

"I've been paying close attention."

You don't doubt it.

"And what did you notice?"

"Nothing pleasant," his finger finds a loose thread and wraps it around. The pull is light, as if testing whether it'll prompt you to move closer into his space. "Quite concerning things actually."

You don't budge an inch.

"You do this sometimes," he continues. "When I ask a question and it takes you longer to respond. When we watch a movie, and I'm sure you stopped following at least twenty minutes ago. Or when you go over the same page until it's clear that I'm looking."

Chrollo's collarbone is a crisp line with a faint old scar; your attention skims over it to the sharp edges of his jaw. No smile today.

"And I wondered where you have been going."

He tugs a bit harder and the thread snaps.

It should've stunned you how fast everything crumbled - the imaginary wooden floors, Miss Whiskerton on your lap and the lizard, the wide windows - but no, it's surprisingly anti-climactic. Nothing breaks dramatically, just splits the middle, leaving you with cold kitchen tiles underneath your bare feet. You thought about this scenario - Chrollo cornering you, many times, and the words you would choose when he did, yet they fail to manifest and nothing fills the silence except a mute sensation of acknowledgement which settles over your head and shoulders. Your knees don't buckle. Your breath doesn't hitch, there is no shivering, and perhaps that's the most terrifying reaction of all.

So what, you think. And it's such a simple thought, plain and ordinary, so what.

Chrollo has his ways, but you have yours; they are slow and small, and squeeze you very tight. You can't comprehend this new expression on his face, haven't seen it before.

"My dear," he says in a quiet voice, so unlike his usual smooth, charming tone. "Broken thoughts and forlorn dreams can't fix what you want them to."

He taps your forehead, as if to engrave those words into the soft tissue of your brain. They slip away though, like running water.

"Wherever you choose to wander, there's not a single spot where I'm not right behind. Delusions don't suit you and it's simply sad to watch."

The kiss comes without warning; Chrollo doesn't bother to say anything else, just cups your face. It's warm and deep, a full-mouthed kiss that tastes faintly of tea you two drank during breakfast.

It's rot, you realize with a ten minute delay; and this slack mouth he's caressing isn't yours. There's a plant behind his shoulder, some small cactus with white needles sitting on a windowsill. The sunlight creates patterns on the glass, soft yellow circles and lines. They shift every passing second.

He's going to do this now, isn't he. Kiss you when you slip too deep as a way to break the pattern and remind that this is where you're supposed to be - with him. In the kitchen wearing a thin shirt above the knee, with cracks that spread across your insides, seeking for every small space they can fill. You'll grow older by his side, he'll bring you material pleasures to compensate for the lack of mental ones - books, clothes, jewelry, a pet if you decide to ask (you won't). Chrollo is going to kiss you often until age creeps onto your faces, and you'll watch each other turn old together.

The plant on the windowsill looks so dry.

"Dear."

He pulls back a few inches. You meet his eyes.

"Mm?"

You will let the rot dig under your nails and wait for it to eat away until his hands eventually become empty; rot is something to grab onto. It's slow to set, but spreads fast once does and never runs out of supply.

#hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter fanfic #yandere #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo lucifer x reader #shalott fanfiction

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zlebooks · 1 year

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A SINGLE THREAD OF GOLD (TIED ME TO YOU) 𓍯 series of events where you realize your fate with him is much more intertwined than how you initially believed it to be.

INCLUDES. 🪡 childe, thoma, xiao, zhongli (i might do a part two for ayato, diluc, kazuha !! i just wanted to get this out of my drafts as soon as possible 😭)

AUTHOR’S NOTE. you know the trope “omygod it’s annoying you’ve been by my side all the time but somehow it became less annoying… i like it even and omg i didn’t notice that what i’m looking for is you all along” ?? yes this is that trope … inspired by taylor swift’s invisible string and the movie harry met sally! both got me in a chokehold rn. also the angst levels increase the further you scroll down.

somehow friends to lovers, mentions of wedding and settling down.

childe is a friend. although, he isn’t the type of friend that you share your secrets with, not a friend who regularly contacts you to hang out, nor is he a friend that eats ice cream with you whenever you get your heart broken. childe is the friend you met through mutual connections, the one that makes you say ‘oh! what a small world’ because you just met him last week at a friend’s birthday and now he’s attending as one of the groomsmen at your distant relative’s wedding.

he’s equally surprised as you, of course he wouldn’t forget the one person that told him: “god this party sucks” when the celebrant was just literally behind the two of you. he remembers you being brazen and holding a glass of beer on one hand.

just like the birthday party, during the wedding’s reception, childe finds himself sitting beside you. he asks you how you’re doing as if a lot happened within the week you were separated.

(“you say that as if a week could eventful.”

“hey! a lot can happen in a week!”

you raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to prove his point.

“like one of your friends getting married!” he gestures to the now married couple dancing.

you find yourself stupidly laughing.)

you both enjoy yourselves together. in the short period of time you sat beside him, you figured that childe was fun to be around and he basically knows everyone in the city.

that’s why, you couldn’t help but joke that you might see him again in another wedding.

(you did.)

surprise was an understatement when you saw him entering the venue. this time, you were a bridesmaid, and he was the cousin of the groom. and just like the previous wedding, childe finds himself sitting beside you, now talking about how the last two months went for you.

(“you better not tell me i can’t ask you about how you spent the last two months because it’s a short time.”

“you know how a year for a human is seven years for a dog?”

“you’re telling me i’m the dog?”

once again, you idiotically laugh.)

this time around, you found out that childe’s real name was ajax. childe was just a nickname given to him by his 8th grade teacher and the name has been stuck ever since. you figured out that he likes the nickname rather well— he tells you that it makes him interesting to which you disagree, sparking a thirty minute debate between you two.

when the party died down, and you were called to help the newly wedded bride, you both bid each other good night. this time, it was his turn to joke about the next wedding you two will meet.

(“if i saw you again in another wedding, i promise to shave my head.”

you snort, “see you at the next wedding then.”)

the moment you meet childe once again, you were a little bit disappointed that you weren’t wearing another bridesmaid dress. however, childe was more than ecstatic that he met you in a baby shower hosted by a mutual friend (once again).

the moment the couple popped the balloon which launched dozens of pink confetti to the air, childe appears right beside you almost immediately.

this time, you find out that he’s equally anxious as you to see the people in your life settling down. that your friends left and right are getting married and having kids, while you had the trouble of looking for someone to spend new year’s eve with.

(“don’t you think that all these events we’re attending are getting suffocating?”

this was the first time you wholeheartedly agree with him without the teasing.)

when everyone else was starting to clean up, and you finally put your hand on your friend’s belly to feel the baby kick, childe tells you he’s going home with a box of take outs. he finally asks you for your number, telling you that he hopes to see you again without the pressuring reminders of settling down.

(“see you on new years?”

“see you on new years.”)

five months went by without the wedding and baby shower invitations, you were glad to say the least. while you were incredibly happy for your friends, you can’t help but to feel insecure for being unable to settle down like the most of them are.

childe and you call sometimes, mostly right before bed and you always scold him for ruining your body clock. but as whiny as you can be, you never actually hung up on him.

these conversations over the phone let you discover little things about childe. like how he hates ketchup on eggs but is fine with it being on everything else, how he likes eating mint choco flavored ice cream but detests anything else flavored mint, and the fact that one of his hobbies is crocheting stuffed toys for teucer who you learned was childe’s youngest brother.

he came from a big family from the country side. he had three older siblings and another three that followed him. you learn that he was a family man; he specifically treasures and adores the three younger ones left at home.

you discover that to them, childe is ajax— the dependable big brother.

during the phone calls, ajax tells you his adventures back home. how he once got pulled into the lake after catching a fish bigger than him, how he once went home with more than enough bruises after learning how to skate for the first time. in return, you supply him the latest office gossip; how the boss and his secretary were sleeping together and almost got caught by the wife. putting things into perspective, your stories were much more dull.

despite these phone calls starting to become a part of your nightly routine, you both never came around to the idea of spending time with each other in personal.

however, the promise of spending new years with each other still remains. and when the night came, you were all bundled up in his arms from complaining how cold it was outside. it was now his turn to complain about the cold as you have succeeded at stealing his mittens and scarf.

(“you didn’t think you could dress for the weather?”

“my coats at home ruin my dress.”)

when the countdown starts and the ball finally drops, everyone starts kissing their partners while you could only stare at childe’s lips. he does the same to you, and before you knew it, you were leaning towards each other, finding the warmth of your lips.

ajax finally meets you halfway and the moment just felt right.

(the next wedding you attend to was yours. and every single one of your mutual friends were invited.)

friends to lovers, swearing.

thoma has been there for your first heartbreak.

he was there to watch every sappy romcoms known to man with you, he was there to give you a new roll of tissue whenever you ran out, and he was right beside you to clean up whatever mess you made.

thoma has been there when your first love shattered your heart into pieces just like how you’ve been there for him when his broke.

the two of you fell easily into a routine; he listens when you gush over the guy you recently met while you give him advice on how to win over his seat mate in class. he reassures you that it wasn’t your fault that things ended up that way while you listen to his frustrations about how incorrigible his girlfriend was. the two of you share a microwave meal as you both whine how relationships are tiring only for the two of you to share a tub of ice cream two weeks later, as you talk about how beautiful it is to love.

the night you call him, your words gibberish and barely comprehensible, it doesn’t take thoma very long to piece the puzzles together. you were obviously upset (upset is an understatement) about your recent romantic endeavor and it was up to thoma to cheer you up just like you’ve done for him many times.

on his way to your home, he picks up a tub of ice cream, a pack of tissue to be safe, and a romantic film that he knew would make you laugh at the ridiculousness.

he rings your doorbell to which you open the door in response, and he sees you standing in your pjs, eyes bloodshot and snot all over your nose. while this was the typical look whenever you were heartbroken, thoma is confused and left to wonder— you have yet to mention being interested to someone for the past two months.

but when a gold envelope haphazardly thrown on the kitchen counter catches his eyes, thoma gets the idea.

“he’s getting married.” you sob loudly, “he’s fucking getting married.”

the male hands you the box of tissue he bought, and you motion him to enter the flat.

“all this time, i thought he didn’t want to get married ever, but he just meant that he didn’t want to get to married to me,” you cry harder than what thoma was accustomed to, and scared that you might literally fall apart, he leads you to your couch.

“and you know what’s funny? they’re getting married on spring,” you inhale briefly, “in fucking spring thoma! that’s when i wanted to get married.”

the man pats you in the back, “he was a douche anyway; i didn’t like him.” thoma takes out the ice cream he bought, handing it to you and the spoon urging you to eat like it would make your problems disappear right away.

as if you hadn’t heard your friend, you continue venting out your frustrations. “and get this: the girl he’s marrying is hannah.”

“hannah?”

“hannah on your 21st birthday. your hannah!”

“oh.”

he sits on the couch, grabs the tub of ice cream and keeps it to himself.

and then the two of you sit in silence.

“do you think this is god’s way of telling us that we’re meant for each other?”

thoma raises an eyebrow.

“i mean, all the people that throws us away—“ thoma decides that he will lecture you on your choice of words, “—end up being together. like maybe we’re so bad that we’re made for each other?”

“which movie did you watch without me?” he teases, to which you take offense because you would never dare to watch a bad movie without him. the rest of the night continues without the topic being brushed over once again but for a moment, thoma actually considers the thought.

maybe, just maybe.

five months followed, and you never cried out your heart to him ever since. thoma, finds himself relinquishing from meeting new people, taking time to sort out himself partly. the other part knows that ever since you told him your silly theory about why your relationships always end up as failures, thoma had started seeing you more than as a friend.

he thinks that he’d make a great damn boyfriend; better than anyone else you had. he knows exactly what makes you double on the floor for laughing, the food you want to eat on certain days, and how to calm you down whenever you were anything but.

despite that, thoma waits. he waits for you to come to him, waiting for you to realize, and waiting for you to be ready. so when you call him up on a friday night, just to hang and not talk about how relationships were taxing, that was the moment he knew.

when you told him you wanted to see another romcom movie without being gibberish and snot blocking your nose, he decides that maybe it’s finally the right time.

thoma lives for the after. the after of every failed relationship because he knows that at the end of the tunnel, there is hope. that in every relationship he enters, he’ll be one step closer to “the one”. and as he looks at you, fighting to keep your eyes wide open to watch yet another sappy romcom movie, he realizes you were the after.

kind of soulmates to lovers, reincarnation, character death (but it’s a happy/hopeful ending don’t worry)

xiao dreams.

at night, dreams plague him in his sleep and he wakes up wondering what is it all about.

illustrations of what wang shu inn looked like more than 10,000 years ago visits him in his sleep, the old liyue looking so vivid as if he lived to tell the its tales.

in these dreams, xiao is always visited by the same person. their hair covers almost half of their face whenever the wind blows, their lips always chastising the “him” in his dreams, their smile was so bright that it completely unravels the heavy knot on xiao’s chest.

and xiao finds himself longing. whenever he wakes up in the morning, he yearns for this person. for him, it feels like the act of falling in love with someone you don’t know, missing somebody you never met.

(“promise that you will look for me in our next lives, alatus.”

xiao jolts awake.)

the young man has heard of that name before.

in his history class, way back in 7th grade, he had heard the feats and victories that belonged to the name. a fearless warrior that served liyue’s god, alatus was said to die peacefully years after the war yet he was all alone.

he had lived his life devoted to the god of contracts; spending his days fighting demons, alatus’ loyalty was to liyue and its people.

xiao hears that a museum nearly ten blocks away has opened to visitors. it is said it contains almost all the rich history of liyue that remains untouched, including portraits and statues once revered many years ago. there, xiao seeks answers.

he arrives at the sight of a familiar figure.

“do you know him?”

you turn around, looking at the guy bewildered.

“i’d have to be really old for me to know him,”

xiao feels his breath taken away from him as he finally confirms his suspicions; you looked exactly like the person in his dreams, only your hair is much shorter. the flurry of emotions inside of him breaks the dam; his heart pounding loudly in his chest that any louder you would have heard it, his head filled with incomplete memories, and his lungs struggling to breath.

(one night at wangshu inn, he sees you brushing your hair.

“join me and let’s look at the stars together.” you pat the space next to you.

“waste of my time.” he tsks, before muttering his breath but he finds himself taking his rightful place beside you.)

he notices the way your eyebrows furrow at him and your lips turning into a pout. “has anyone told you that you look exactly like the guy in the painting?”

true to your words, when xiao gazes upwards, he sees himself staring back at him. eyes bore into his soul, scrutinizing his every move and it’s extremely weird that such painting makes him feel like he’s being watched, and by himself no less.

below the painting, a gold plate is mounted against the wall.

a lover’s oath.

alatus in the art is holding someone. their white clothing smeared with blood, and the tears that fall from the yaksha’s face were enough to tell xiao that they were in their last moments before separation.

strangely, xiao feels a tug on his heart strings. an overwhelming feeling looks over him, and he feels like he’s about to cry.

“it brings you to tears, doesn’t it?”

(xiao in his dreams feels like his heart was ripped open.

in his arms, the only person he might have loved is already dying. the blood from the wound seeping on their clothes is a reminder that it’s only minutes away before their impending doom.

xiao, for the first time in a while, cries when he wakes up.)

“i dream of the person in white,” xiao suddenly confesses.

“they say that they might have been alatus’ friend, companion, and lover.” you tell him, reading from the standee near you.

when you receive no reply from the male, you glance at him and your eyes meet.

intrigue, you ask, “how do they look like in your dreams?”

“they look like you.”

the timeline varies but it’s mainly centered in whatever the genshin timeline is for plot convenience, references to death (still happy ending), reincarnation au, it literally takes several lifetimes for zhongli to realize he likes you, literally the “i’m god’s favorite mortal; he favors me” pipeline. ALSO i got carried away im sorry

first.

you first meet zhongli as a refugee from the waging war. the god governing your land slaughtered mercilessly by those who seek more power. your feet brings you to morax; looking for a shelter and protection.

you almost got turned away, even receiving snide remarks from higher beings for being naively brave to seek protection from a god when you were nothing but a mortal.

(but what is a god’s purpose if not to protect the nation he governs and the people inhabiting it?)

it was only in the right hand deity’s grace were you able to stay.

so like a fish out of water, you live amongst immortals, making yourself useful with mundane tasks that warriors shouldn’t be bothered with.

(when you died in the hands of the enemy, it served as a reminder why morax fights this war.)

second.

the next time zhongli notices of your presence, it was in the middle of the rise of liyue harbor. he is finally a step closer to building a safe land to house his people; long years of the war soon to be buried.

morax, now known as rex lapis, hears every single prayer made at his statues.

he feels you ardently take care of the sculptures and in return, he passionately listens to your pleas of saving your sick mother.

(on your way home one day, you find a plant you’ve never seen before. you take its fruit for your mother to eat as you hold onto your faith, hoping that this may be the answer to your prayers.

the next day, she stands up from her bed for the first time in a long while.)

third.

the first time you were able to hold a conversation with zhongli, was his first time walking amongst mortals.

he now goes by jiawei, a struggling merchant trying to strike a fortune in the harbor— at least that’s what he tells you during your introductions.

you’ve always thought that jiawei was a noble’s son. his vast knowledge on liyue’s history, his proficiency in reading and writing, and his peculiar taste for lavishness gave it away. furthermore, there were days he hadn’t been present, and you surely assumed it was due to his duties as a noble.

zhongli, or jiawei in this life, shares myths and legends of ancient liyue to you while you show him the ropes of living as a simple commoner in his land. he teaches you how to read and write while you teach him what goes on at the streets of the harbor.

(when jiawei doesn’t appear one night to meet you under the stars, you assume he finally grew out of his childlike wonder and immaturity. instead, he grows into the shoes that were his noble duties.)

fourth.

zhongli catches your reincarnation crying underneath an oak tree this time.

he approaches you gently, wishing to comfort an old friend even if you probably don’t remember him. a hand behind your back soothes whatever distress you’re carrying as he tells you everything will be alright.

zhongli learns you are bound to suffer the same fate as almost every maiden in his country.

in a few months or so, your hand will be taken and you will be forced to marry someone whom you have yet to meet.

and zhongli, for the first time, meets someone who openly cursed rex lapis.

(“trust in the lord rex lapis my foot, he doesn’t even listen to my prayers!”

zhongli purses his lips— if only you retained your past memories.)

the following week, your father shared good news that you wouldn’t have to marry to save your clan from ruin. apparently, your crops have never been better and every merchant is seeking business with you.

the next time you see the man who listened you vent out your frustrations under a tree, you thank him for the comfort you received. he expresses his happiness as you tell him that maybe rex lapis isn’t deaf after all while you don’t catch the slight tense on his shoulders.

(that life, just like any other life, you thank him with a different name yet again. zhongli feels that he’s close to losing his identity.)

fifth.

“i know you from somewhere.”

“that wouldn’t be possible; i have just gotten back from my travels.”

“i know you from a long time ago.”

“again, that would be impossible.”

the fifth time zhongli meets you, he notices that your sense of deja vu has gotten stronger.

the god gives you his mortal name that he decided to stick to, making it the first time among others that you meet him under the name zhongli.

in this life, he tells you that he’s a scholar that hails from the land of sumeru with keen interest on liyue’s rich history, and now he’s traveling across teyvat for his studies. you find yourself not believing him one bit.

he tells you stories from his travels, from the hospitality of mondstandt to the exquisite cuisine of inazuma, zhongli recounts the wonders of each nations he’s visited. but from his stories, you know that the man’s heart will always remain in liyue.

and as months passed by and seasons changed, you find yourself wishing that his heart would remain with you as well. but the god resigned himself to a much crueler fate; to walk down a path alone and by himself.

(“i think i love you.”

“it shall pass.”)

sixth.

the heart is a fickle thing, zhongli realizes.

in your previous lifetime, he refused to return your feelings and for a while, he’s committed to it. but as he lays his eyes on you for the first time in this lifetime, he was suddenly reminded that he too, was capable of loving.

zhongli doesn’t approach you, afraid that the feelings he has locked away far deep into the trenches of his heart will blossom and turn into something as beautiful as flowers. but alas, your soul finds his, under the same oak tree that he once found you under, and you almost remembered.

(“i just know that you were special to me.”

zhongli almost caves.)

seventh.

almost a century passes by and zhongli’s feelings for you remain the same. you died and you were reborn.

he never reveals himself to you.

eighth.

ninth.

tenth.

eleventh.

(“why do you seem so afraid?”

the god does not reply, afraid that his voice might give him away.

“why can’t you give us a chance?”)

twelfth.

when zhongli is just zhongli and rex lapis was no more, he comes and finds you.

he dines with you in your favorite restaurant, he walks around the harbor with you hand in hand, and he finally takes you to places in liyue to see its beauty that the textbooks could never justify.

for the first time, the ex archon takes the key and unlocks his heart, allowing himself to love with no restrictions.

(you die from old age, and you know that your husband isn’t anything like you for his hair remained dark while yours turned white, his skin smooth and soft while yours had turned wrinkled and rough from time.)

twentieth.

liyue’s skies have been crying non stop and zhongli is to blame partly.

while he had renounced his claim to the land long ago, a part of his soul is still linked to his beloved nation.

your body remained lifeless, cold, and bitter in the god’s arms. you died peacefully in your sleep, beside your lover and zhongli feels like heart in his chest is being ripped apart slowly and painfully.

as a mortal, you were granted with infinite numbers of reincarnations. you meet zhongli, you spend your lifetime with him wondering why his touch feels so familiar, and then you die peacefully. the cycle repeats.

(zhongli is cursed; he’s sure of it.

while he remembers every waking moment with you, you were bound to forget him and the lives you spent together.

but still, even if the cycle of losing you hurts more than any wound he received from the wars he fought, zhongli continues.

for what is grief if not love persevering?)

twenty-fifth.

through the years, he has grown weary and tired. the path to godhood is a lonely one, but a path leaving his old ways whilst immortal? zhongli has never felt more alone in his life.

he ventures the lands and seas in attempt to break free from the shackles of being a god.

but even then, his path remains anything but fortuitous; his attempts were futile.

(it was his turn to swear at celestia and the higher beings.)

thirty-ninth.

zhongli finds comfort in writing.

he jots down everything about you in every life you spend with him, afraid he’ll forget one detail about you.

this is where he finds solace in when time takes you away from him. it’s what keeps him sane as he waits for you in your next life and the one after that.

as he reads and reads the words he put down into notes, he notices nothing ever changes. he always end up falling in love with you, and you always end up falling in love with him. for zhongli, may it be cruel in its own way, it is a reminder that immortal he may be, he always has a place in your mortality.

(“what are you writing?”

“just some reminders for the day darling.”)

fortieth.

zhongli, with how long he’s been living, should have known better than to leave his possessions laying out in the open.

it’s not like he’s keeping secrets from you, but even he would go crazy if he finds a journal (of his lover nonetheless) that suggests he’s already living his fortieth life.

but you were better than zhongli at handling things like this. you were much more patient and calmer, like the never changing rivers of liyue.

zhongli tells you of your past lives for the first time, and you cry.

not because you felt trapped by loving the same person all the time, but rather, sorry that your lover had to go through all of it all alone.

(“can’t you just grow old with me?”

“believe me sweetest, i tried.”)

morax, rex lapis, jia wei, zhongli. they’re all the same. they’re all slaves to love and to the dreams of spending the rest of their lives with someone they cherish.

that night, zhongli prayed, got on his knees and begged.

once, he was an enemy of celestia. now, he falls to its feet willing to do anything just for it to grant his wish.

he doesn’t sleep, eat, or drink. he just prays.

(oh how the mighty have fallen.)

a week later, your eyes squint at him and he wonders.

“is there something on my face?”

you shake your head, and without warning you pull a strand of hair from his head.

“are you supposed to have white hair?”

zhongli, funnily enough, starts bawling.

(you never thought someone would be so happy that wrinkles are starting to appear all around his face, and how the callousness of his hands become more evident.)

forty-ninth.

fiftieth.

fifty-third.

sixtieth.

seventieth.

zhongli is able to love freely. finally.

please do not repost or translate without my permission. reblogs are greatly appreciated!

1K notes · View notes

puffins-studio · 11 months

Text

Nico Di Angelo 💀 Will Solace ☀️

You don’t know how happy I was at the news of their solo book! I been off and on Percy Jackson because doctor who but it been on my back burner. And I found the release date of the book before my bad finals and I just had to act as if I didn’t see if so I could focus , problem is my adhd made me completely forget about the book until the pretty cover came on my to my feed and i dropped everything to read it.

I love them💕 I Want to do an embroidery for them too but I think I might listen to the book again as I can’t pick a favorite line to do. I might also do the other main character and add my headcannon ideas as I feel so proud of these came out!

Hazel

Percy & Annabeth

Jason

Leo

If you want to read my headcannons about their outfits, then it under the cut as I have many ideas.

[ID: The picture is a felt doll that is the shape of a gingerbread man with a big circle head Nico Di Angelo and Will solace. Nico have light color felt for skin, very dark brown hair that is to his shoulders and have a bit of a curl. He have black ties shoes, dark grey rip pants, a black and grey shirt with the skull on it. He have on a sliver studded belt, with beads for the studs, and a chain coming off of it. He have his ad jacket with a Italy flag patch in the right side and a sun patch in the left side. He have Bracelet on the hand with the sun patch sleeves. It a rainbow beaded one and a yellow and black twist. On this other wrist he have a black, read, and blue sparky thread one, a ace flags: black, grey,white, purple. And he have a beaded disability flag colors are black, green, blue, white,yellow, reddish pick, black. Will has light color felt for skin, short yellow blonde. He has ears and a little bit of black felt is peaking out for hearing aids.he have a blue shirt and a fort pocket, a little coco puff is in the pocket, he have on cargo shorts, a yellow orange sweatshirt around his waist, he I have on one blue sock and one read with cream shoes that have on the left one embroidery purple hyacinthus, a lyre and in the other side is a bow and arrow and the symbol of healing that have the single snake. He have camp bead and a sliver bead for the ring on the chain. On this left wrist he have a rainbow bracelet, and a random color one that is blue, light purple and light gray. On his other wrist is a bi flag one pink, purple, blue. And the last one is a matching one with Nico that is black and yellow.:ID]

Headcannons for Will

Star Wars

-I was going for like Star Wars socks, as this boy is either in flip flops or cowboy boots, he rarely wear anything else so he have fun socks to show off when he does

-(Maybe not the first time but maybe one of the first few time Nico said he love Will. Will make the Star Wars reference with Hans saying ‘I know’ and Nico is slightly confused. But then imagining his reaction when he all invested in the movie and then Hans say the line and Nico just stops and is like WILL! And will just start laughing “I couldn’t help it!”)

Shoes

-He only have one pair of sneakers and I was trying to think of something to Blightten up his outfit, and thought the Apollo cabin can’t leave anything plain. So Apollo theme shoe (dark idea is that they belonged to one of his older brothers who painted them and died and Will wanted to bring something that reminded him of his family into the underworld with him)

Coco puff

-Little coco puff in Will’s pocket I can’t decide if the little puff is attached to Will because it a deamon that Will actually helps Nico fight or the puffs are attached to anyone who have the same deamons so like if the little one is bad self confidence, then Will also have to work on his bad self confidence

Beads

-Enough beads for him to have gotten to camp one year before Percy. So he had two good years with his siblings before the wars. Just so he also have a family when his mom is on tour. But I do also think he has a lot of hidden Apollo kid power that he doesn’t know about so he think he weak with a randomly strong small. Like that is until Apollo learns where he went and is like how are you alive. Will “power of love… and really bad nicknames”

Disabled

-I tried to give him hearing aids, they enup being hidden in his hair, I was trying to think of a color that would stand out against the yellow hair as I also thought he would pick a noticeable color, and I wanted with black. Just him going into the underworld with so many extra batteries, but also him and Nico do a bit of asl or just come up with little hand signals.

Bracelet

-Rainbow one, bi vone, matching one with Nico, and a random one from a sibling

Headcannon Nico

Bracelets

-Nico has bracelets as during craft time some of the younger Apollo kids were make some and they all like to make Will some. At the time Nico was there making their matching ones at the time and will was making one for Nico. And then one little kid come up and whispers something to Will he grins. Nico look up because the silences and Will just nods to Nico, then the little kid goes over to Nico and holds up the bracelet and said they made it for him. Will fills in that they want to give it to him and so Nico just like ‘yeah sure’ and hold out his wrist and the kid tie it on before running happyly back to their table. Will leans over like ‘now you can’t take it off’ Nico just looks at him and Will is just ‘how did you think I get so many.” And then the younger kids even some from other cabins make Nico bracelets and he feels honored,

-Random one that is supposed to be the one the kids made him but also slightly Star Wars theme, I was trying to make it with the dark sparkly thread as I can imagine that how a kid see Nico. The other one is beads for the disability pride flag. Either Will makes if for him and he have one too if something with the flag as I love deaf Will and disabled Nico. Or another little kid make it for Nico who also have a disability and that help Nico acc his. I had to add a asexual one too, I can’t help it. Beads so he can mess with them when on edge

Beads

-And I love the idea that nico some how get the camp beads either he steal one each year as he wanted to be apart but hey keep them in a box some place and then after will saying something like he always had a fear of Nico leaving, and to show him he acc camp as home, the next morning Nico walked out of his cabin with the beads. Or Will just keep saving beads for Nico. Like it started as Will keep going around asking about Nico and got upset when he was told he left already, maybe he ask Percy and Percy tell him something like Nico doesn’t like camp. But Will meet Nico in the small window when Nico was at camp before he first ran away and got a little crush that his siblings notice, and then when Michael was giving the beads to his cabin, he give two to will, and just held a finger to his mouth before Will could say anything and say something like ‘you need to hold onto Nico’s bead, in case he comes back.” And so when Will was head he keep asking for an extra one to save for Nico. And he gives them to him at one point, maybe even just leave them by his bed during the 3 days.

Jacket

-Nico get a over size jacket so Will can steal it sometimes. He had a Italy flag patch, maybe Chiara got it from him because they are both Italian. And then sun patch maybe as a slight joke that the Apollo kids got him as he is always with them. And then I tried to do it so it look like he sewed them in himself. Pockets are totally full of chocolate and random rocks he finds, that he offers to Will and younger campers.

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thearchercore · 4 months

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"I could write essays about how charles' relatable silly posts are part of his PR rebrand to create a stronger personal brand outside of ferrari like his PR moves are EXCELLENT"

Are you just going to be a tease and not write the essay? Because I would SIT DOWN for this essay.

he's an insane individual and with each new post on social he blows my mind. i have personal experience in PR and presenting an individual as a brand and let me tell you, the awareness charles has about himself is INSANE.

let's have a look at the subtle changes charles made in 2024 to his instagram:

here's his winter break feed from 2023:

out of all these posts, only one could be considered as "silly" (the pizza eating one, HOWEVER, it was part of a carousel that also featured serious pictures of his training).

now let's look at 2024 winter break feed:

i marked it on the feed itself, but he hasn't posted a single serious pic from his training in the dolomites (and he was on a 24hr skiing trip from italy to austria i may add so that would be a huge flex -- again no post). he chose to post a picture of him falling, a video of being insane and sliding down a mountain, and then eating an icecream in the snow.

now, re: his brand awareness, his lore goes CRAZY. back before christmas he had a Q&A on threads where he said his fave ice cream flavour was vanilla, people judged him. he went on to make a whole photoshoot with a vanilla ice cream. not many people would connect it, but it just shows how aware he is of what he shares with the general public.

he also now features much less ferrari on his IG. also worth noting that to match his feed, he wore exclusively red jacket during his winter training last year to match the other pictures where he wears the ferrari red suit. now, his feed is more neutral, less red for sure. i'm not saying it's him going to a different team. i personally think it's him building his own brand and trying to distance himself from being JUST a ferrari driver.

now, i made a whole post about charles and his relatable posts but just admit, would you be more likely to notice a post where he does something silly, unexpected, authentic, than a perfectly staged professional training photo? exactly.

in fact, his ice cream pics gained 1M likes SO FAST - he posted them around 6pm and reached a million likes before midnight. now it's on 1.6M likes. bear in mind he has "only" 13M followers. that means he manages to activate a huge number of his followers to engage with his posts. to compare, lewis has 35M followers. how many likes do his posts reach? around 700k likes if they aren't racing related. do you see how insane this level of engagement is?

he has a good understanding of the social media environment, and understands that showcasing his personality more rather than a crafted PR image works to his advantage.

he seems then more approachable, stands out in the crowd of other drivers.

also one thing that i noticed is how insanely well his branded posts do. branded posts underperform, that's a fact. but charles' branded reels get millions of views -- 12.8M views for the apm monaco promo, 25M views for his meta promo.

to compare other non-branded content, his piano reel from 22 weeks ago got around 7.7M views. ferrari posts that were co-posted by charles gain around 3-5M views if you look at the usual performance.

the pattern is clear -- charles is outgrowing ferrari and the brand that ferrari offers. the individual brand that he crafted for himself is getting stronger, and him and his team know how to navigate in it and capitalize on it. he no longer is tied to ferrari, or even racing. he can do well enough with a video of him playing a piano than a video of him scoring a pole position.

again, racing is in charles' blood and at his core, he's a racer, but having such a strong individual branding as an internet personality is a huge advantage when it comes to brand deals, sponsors, and the contract negotiations he could be having.

that being said, what you see on social media does not have to be reality. it can be a carefully crafted pr image. HOWEVER, charles also has a great advantage of the thousands of meetings with fans that claim he was incredibly nice. or meetings with partners, that always cannot stop complimenting how approachable and interested he was in person.

that also benefits him, people always want to root for/support people that are genuine in real life, and charles seems to live up to that expectation.

#charles leclerc #lestappen gate 2023 #lestappen #formula 1 #f1 #lestappen gate 2024

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jaetyun · 1 year

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Most likely to with some trainees please?

Boys planet MLT’s; a thread!

featuring: gyuvin matthew s.hanbin keita junhyeon zhang hao seunghwan honghai gunwook jay

fluff!

a/n: i use mlt kind of loosely, making every question less of a rant of most - least but more one option - another option

being pampered vs pampering

being pampered

honghai, gyuvin

i mean it’s kinda obvious

honghai is a total baby

he just wants to be little spoon after a long day of work and can u blame him :(

gyuvin LIVES off praise, he needs to hear from you hes doing it right even if it’s just simple things like cooking or doing chores

both of them spend nights giggling kicking their feet twirling their hair biting their finger over sweet texts you send

just clingy

so incredibly clingy

the more i write the more i realize gyuvin is so bf coded ☹️☹️

gunwook, matthew

now you might be wondering

how is gunwook not with the former??

to that i say he’s totally pamper you to as a congrats

you aced an exam? he’s out buying you ice cream and best BELIEVE he’s gonna be feeding you

if you can’t sleep he’ll tuck you in and sing you a lullaby <33

matthew has no preference

you just happen to end up spoiling him more often

you just can’t resist his aegyo ☹️❤️

he uses this to his advantage

“babbbbyyyyy can you pleassseee make ramen for me” while batting his eyelashes

jay, junhyeon

it’s very unpredictable w them

theres no set dynamic w either of them

you want him to buy something for you? sure!

he’s feeling little spoon in the moment? you’re big spoon 🫵

neither of them care very much

if i had to pick one way or the other jay is more likely to spoil you and junhyeon is more likely to be spoiled

potentially unpopular opinion..

junhyeon seems like he’d be very calm and chill in a relationship

he uses all his energy and humor with his friends youre his little safe area to recharge his social battery

jay is just always a very down to earth guy

he doesn’t really care either way 90% of the time

keita, zhang hao

they just have very motherlike tendencies

they’ll naturally buy things for you cause “you’ll run out soon anyways”

keita writes songs for you all the time

if morning texts were a love language that’s what zhang hao has

he hasn’t missed a single day of saying good morning and good night to you even if there was no other conversation that day

keita likes paying

i cant explain it but anytime you’re out you might as well not bring your wallet cause he’s gonna fist fight you before you’ll ever buy anything around him

the ONLY time you’ve paid was on your first date where you split the bill

seunghwan, hanbin

seunghwan moreso than hanbin

his face would curl in disgust at your attempt of big spooning

“what do you think you’re doing?? come over here” he wraps arms around your waist, leaving you as mush in his hold

hanbin is also very motherly

would literally make a lunchbox for you everyday if he could

both of them are just so good at indulging and pampering like i’m at a loss for words

i cant even explain on paper it just makes sense okay

i’m right my word is final!!!

pampering

easily jealous vs secure

easily jealous

gyuvin, gunwook

not necessarily possessive??

but they’re the type to death glare ANY guy that comes your way

gyuvin is probably a lot more pouty and gunwook

like gyuvin would be so clingy if he felt threatened in your relationship

hes just a lil insecure and needs reassurance but it’s okay cause we love him for it 💔

gunwook says he likes pda cause he likes physical touch

hes lying

it’s so he can basically let everyone around the two of you know you’re off limits

he feels like you’re too good to be true

he needs to fight for you yk

if you tell either of them to knock it off they def will though

junhyeon, keita

they’re more willing to let things go

like if it’s just someone checking you out they’re chilling

it’s when flirting starts that drives them mad

i think keita would be more vocal about it

he’d do something immediately

“you’re just so stunning-“ “arent i lucky?”

junhyeon would watch on the sidelines then scold you afterwards

once you give a friendly reminder they’re perfect for you theyre back to chilling

not nearly as much guard dog energy as the other two

but don’t mistake that as chill

keita has def said some things in the moment he wish he could take back

honghai, hanbin

the pouty boys

it takes a while for them to crack, it wjen it happens they’ll be SO WHINY

hanbin is so petty

“how does this look on me?” “why don’t you ask ___?”

hai isn’t passive aggressive he just gives you the silent treatment

most of the time some rando isn’t gonna hurt their pride

it’s your friends thatre a lil too close to you…

which results in full blown fights

it gets resolved though cause communication is sexy 🙏

zhang hao, jay

it’s not that they don’t get jealous

they just handle it pretty well

instead of being like gunwook who’s practically holding you or like keita who makes sly remarks theyll be silent in the moment

afterwards they rationalize it in their head and their fine

it’s not that there’s no communication

they just realize you’re loyal and they don’t have to worry 💯💯

i think hao is more likely to say something

not a whiny or petty comment but just a genuine “do you realize ___’s intentions with you?”

very down to earth men

they don’t wanna fight they just wanna head empty love partner

and we love that tbh

seunghwan, matthew

SO SELF ASSURED

like they would argue with their friends over their lack of jealousy

“why would i be worried about ___? they’re not the one kissing y/n are they?”

they genuinely cannot fathom a possibility where you cheat

which is reasonable cause let’s be real youd FUMBLEEE if you lost one of those two 😵‍💫

seunghwan might have doubts here and there but overall he can realize how important he is to you and that solves most issues

secure

going out vs staying in for dates

going out

junhyeon, seunghwan

it’s like an adventure to them

so many more possibilities on things to do

junhyeons fave dates are when you go out late at night and see what’s open

will you end up spending 4 hours at a theatre hopping around random movies at random times? will you find a cool dinner spot? will you scavenge through an abandoned building? it’s always an adventure!

seunghwan likes going to romantic places

takes you on picnics, going to a carnival, renting a karoke bar, bowling

he would totally have a bucket list of cliches he’d want to fulfill

he also just likes showing you off to the world <33

the best part is when you guys go home together both exhausted and rambling about everything you experienced throughout the day

taking showers after spending a hot day in the sun in the summer 😵‍💫 or a warm bath if it’s a cold winter day ❤️

*WALL*

jay, gyuvin

definitely prefer staying at home

does not mind going out though!

gyuvin has made it his personal duty to find the best cafe in town with you

you both have your own ranking you bicker over all the time

secretly his long term goal is learning your perfect pastry and trying to recreate it

he’s not telling you though itd ruin the sincerity of the coffee shop nights

jay wouldn’t mind every once in a while

it would get draining after like the second time a week though

has a soft spot for places like an aquarium or an arcade

places that might come off as childish

those jay could go to all day everyday

still doesn’t beat a nice cuddle session while watching a movie by a LONG SHOT for either of them

hanbin, keita

homebodys at heart

would do it for you though

especially if they have super outgoing s/o’s

very easy to convince

will react in very opposite ways though

if hanbin ends up agreeing on a date night out hes making 100000 steps and plans

he knows exactly where you’re going and when you’re going down to the minutes

he wants it to be perfect for you!

keita though

he lets you pick

“you wanted to go out! so where should we go??”

very easygoing though

down for literally anything you’d wanna do

except like rock climbing sky diving or axe throwing

that’s a hard no

matthew, gunwook

i honestly have nothing to say here

it just makes sense okay

im tired

bare with me

zhang hao. honghai

okay homebody by ph-1

their ideal date is making a lil dinner for you then playing a board game or video games

simple men

they just like being with their safe person in their safe space

zhang hao will show you all his fave tv shows and want your reactions

hai will spent HOURS just scrolling on tiktok with you next to him

it’s like a game to see how synchronized your fyps are

if either of them have a pet they’d love playing with their pets w you

if you have a pet theyd have play dates

doesn’t matter the species

you guys will make it work

like who says it wouldn’t be iconic to have a dog and bird friendship??

staying at home

#boys planet #boys planet drabbles #boys planet imagines #kpop imagines #sung hanbin #lee seunghwan #seok matthew #park gunwook #jay chang #terazono keita #keita ciipher #boys planet scenarios #boys planet x reader #keita #boys planet mlt #most likely too

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writersdrug · 8 months

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Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 2)

<- Previous - Next ->

Summary: You and Ghost argue every single day. Things aren't getting better. You're over it and wish Ghost would stop. But he makes a point to fight with you every time you're in his line of sight. Even when you try let it go, he doesn't. And you've had enough.

Chapter warnings: Cursing, VERY small mentions of consensual torture (like for one sentence).

Notes: Two chapters in one day? Maybe?? Don't expect it too often, but I'll finish this one I promise!!

Two months had passed, and the days dragged on mercilessly. The swelling in Ghost’s eye had disappeared after the first week. The depression had passed after the first month, now replaced with anger and hatred. Ghost and I had gone from awkward silence, to irritated glances, to going to extreme lengths to avoid each other, and finally, to having full blown arguments. At first, in a semi-private setting, then later, in whatever place we were in when the fight would start. Our teammates were growing concerned and annoyed with the constant tension. Multiple people had suggested we try to be civil and talk things out, and others said we needed to go to therapy. All of them, of course, never let on that they knew this was about something more than a work-related disagreement. They understood exactly why Ghost and I had been fighting.

Ghost and I, on the other hand, believed that we had done a good job at keeping our “situation” a secret.

Morning had come all too soon; I had managed to crawl into bed after another late night of anger and despair; my mind was busy reliving the moments of the argument Ghost and I had, right outside of my dorm. We had shouted like there wasn’t another soul on base, throwing insults and jabs like they were daggers – and they certainly felt like it. Ghost would typically use the “You should have known better” argument, and I took the “If you had a problem, why didn’t you say anything?” route. He called me insane. I called him a hypocrite. The same jumble of expletives until I would finally slam the door in his face and go to bed, a sobbing mess.

I had skimmed the surface of sleep until my alarm buzzed at 5 AM. I let it drone on for a while, staring out my window, watching the sun just barely breaking the surface. It was going to be a dark morning, and a cold day. Luckily, the day’s agenda for the 141 agents was mostly finishing paperwork from the last mission. I went through the motions of showering, getting dressed, putting my hair back… before I knew it, I was standing in front of my door, empty coffee cup in one hand, files and paperwork in the other, ready to start the day, At least, I looked ready. In reality, I felt like I was being held together with paperclips and thread, about to collapse at any second.

I made my way to the mess hall, claiming a seat with some of the female sergeants before heading to the line. My stomach didn’t like the look of the food, so I instead went to grab a cup of coffee. I wasn’t one for coffee, however, I needed it as a replacement for tea. Since Ghost and I had first fought, I refused to drink any sort of tea – I said it was to help me get over him, but I knew I was just being childish.

Haphazardly, I noticed that there were only two tea bags left by the brewing station. For a second, I thought I should just bite the bullet and make tea, since this would probably be all that was left until the following month. Then, a very petty idea came to mind. I casually glanced around the hall – no sign of Ghost. I raised my eyebrows, suspicious at the coincidence of it all. God, this timing is too perfect. I turned back and finished pouring cream in my coffee. Simultaneously, I snagged the teabags and shoved them in my thigh pocket, then walked back to the table like it had never happened.

When people commend me on my stealth, I can’t help but think of how I used it for dumb shit like this.

I sat down next to two of my closest friends, Skyline and Beth (not all of us chose to stick with a callsign, and Beth was one of those people). I sipped my coffee innocently.

“You’ve got a long day today.” Beth said, weighing my paperwork in her hands. “If you’d let the others get a chance at shanking the enemy, you wouldn’t have so much to report.” She plopped the paper back down with a thud.

“I already got started on it last night.” I muttered. My eyes kept flicking back to the entrance of the mess hall, waiting for Ghost. “Besides, keeps me busy.”

Beth looked at me and huffed. She followed my line of sight to the doors, then looked back at me, disappointed. “Really?”

I shrugged. “What?” I said, innocently taking another sip.

“I told you she’d do something.” Skyline piped in, unbothered as she slowly stirred her coffee. “What is it now, huh? D’you take off his door knob?”

I glanced between the two of them with an offended look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Why didn’t I ever think of that before?!

“You have got to let this go.” Beth said exasperated. “This is the most unprofessional I’ve seen you since I met you.”

That one stung. I looked at Beth, narrowing my eyes. “Are you serious- “

“It’s been over two months now. Yes, I’m serious.” Beth rubbed the bridge of her nose, and Skyline hummed in agreement. Beth continued: “You’re both acting so fucking childish. I’m surprised you even managed to get him to stoop to your level here. But it’s not just a problem for the both of you now, everyone has to deal with your shit.”

“I think your bun’s just pulled too tight.” I replied dryly. I was too busy watching Ghost walk in and place his things on the table next to Soap.

“For fuck’s sake, Bonnie – “ Beth stood up and gathered her tray. “We’re just trying to look out for you. Get your shit together.” She stormed off to find a different table, far away from me.

I watched her walk away, suddenly feeling ashamed. She was right, I was being a child. I was stooping lower than I though I ever could.

Skyline clicked her tongue. “You really should get over him.” She piped up. “It’s holding you back, you’re not focused, you look tired and worn out all the time.” She stood and picked up her tray, heading away to follow Beth. “We just don’t want to see you lose everything over some petty mistake.”

Mistake. I was tired of that word. I watched her walk away, anger bubbling in my mind. I looked back at Ghost, who was now standing by the coffee station, glancing around for the last tea bags. I sighed. Let’s get this over with.

I got up and walked over to him, fishing the tea bags from my pocket. I slapped them down on the counter in front of Ghost. “Figured you need these more than I do.”

Ghost stared at the bags for a long second, then looked sharply at me. His gaze was always intense behind the mask (right now, just the balaclava), but now more than ever, they were filled with hatred.

I shrugged. “I decided on coffee.” I answered his unspoken question.

I left Ghost at the brew station, exiting the mess hall and making quick strides towards my room. I knew the look on his face meant trouble, and I didn’t want to deal with his bullshit. For the first time in a while, I wanted the arguing and face-offs to be over. Beth’s words struck a chord with me, making me realize how much time I was wasting fighting with Ghost. Deep down, I wanted it to end, so I could go back to being the best stealth expert on the team. I had become so distracted and irritable over the past several months, and it was finally crashing down on me.

If I had felt hungry before going to the mess hall, it had faded since then. I just wanted to finish my paperwork in my dorm, go back to sleep, maybe stand in the shower and think… maybe even apologize to Beth and Skyline, telling them they were right – which would be hard. It took a lot for me to admit I was wrong, even to myself. Especially to myself.

I was angry again. I was tired of being angry. I was tired of getting frustrated, getting into fights, and crying after. I was tired of being tired. It was a workout of it’s own. But there I was, fuming again as I stormed away down the halls, muttering curses to myself.

Cutting my thoughts short, I heard Ghost’s angry voice behind me. “The fuck was that all about?” he yelled.

My eyes rolled so hard they nearly got stuck.

“Are you really going to do this over a couple of teabags??” I said, calling the fight before it had even started. “I don’t want to argue with you, Ghost. I decided not to piss you off today, that’s why I gave them back.”

“No, I’ve had enough of you and you’re selfish fucking attitude.” Ghost trailed behind me, fuming. His steps were heavier than mine and his stride slower, yet he easily kept up with my pace. “Every day it’s something new with you; some stupid fucking reason for you to piss me off, and then you go acting all innocent like nothing happened. I’m fucking tired of it.”

“Then go the fuck to bed and leave me alone.” I retorted. This was what I couldn’t understand. Why does he keep following me every day just to get mad? If he think’s I’m trying to annoy him why doesn’t he just ignore me? Why does he have to yell at me every damn day?

“Oh, real mature, real fucking mature, Bonnie. You haven’t changed one bit, you’re still a bloody prick!”

“And you’re still crawling back for more, huh?!”

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck you!! This is fucking petty, Ghost!!”

“You think I’m being petty?!” he shouted, defensively, following me around a corner. “Fuckin’ take a look at yourself, acting like a child. Can’t be a fucking adult here, you’re just going t’ walk away like nothing happened, huh? You gonna fucking run every time I try and talk to you? You know, that’s real fucking weak of you!!”

Weak. My mind snapped before I knew what was happening.

I grabbed my knife from my belt and spun a full one-eighty, flinging it as hard as I could in Ghost’s direction. It missed his face by a couple of inches before it collided with the cement wall behind him and clattered to the floor. As the clang echoed throughout the hallway, I caught Ghost holding his breath, a shocked look in his eyes. He knew how good my aim was – he had seen it countless times in combat. I never miss my mark. But this time, he wasn’t sure what I had meant to hit.

“Fuck OFF.” I emphasized the words I yelled though the glare I shot him, before finally turning away. The walls on either side of me seemed to close in, and the end of the hall stretched farther and farther away with each step I took. I knew Ghost was still frozen behind me, trying to figure out if I had meant to shank him or if I had intentionally missed him – frankly, I was just as uncertain as he was.

Finally reaching my door, I barreled through it and slammed it behind me. My head was throbbing from the emotions swimming through it. I didn’t want to cry again, I was so goddamn tired of crying. Yet the stinging threat of tears lingered in my eyes all the same. I stood there, fuming, my shoulders heaving from the breaths I sucked in, trying to wash away the red behind my eyelids. It wasn’t enough.

I ripped my shirt over my head and threw it to the ground. I kicked off my shoes, yanked down my pants, and ripped off my underwear as I stumbled to my bathroom. My head was dizzy as I frantically pulled myself into the shower, cranking it on and to the highest setting. Initially, the water hit my skin like shards of ice, making my muscles tense and shake. Slowly, it turned into a cooling rain, then a comforting shower, before it finally burned.

It felt so good. Maybe not good, but it was distracting. The water felt like a million cigarettes being put out against my skin. I remembered how Simon used to do that, once or twice, placing claims on my skin that no one else would see but us. I told him I never wanted them to fade, but they did anyways. I braced my hands against the wall in front of me and hunched my back. My muscles fought against my brain, shaking with the urge to jump back from the water, as my mind forced them to stay locked under it. My scalp screamed under the heat as small, hot streams trickled down my face. It burned. All of it burned, and it felt so good. So numbing.

Eventually, the water cooled off a bit. The base’s water heater was unable to keep up with what I needed. As the searing pain eased off, the emotions came flooding back – now, as despair and confusion. The void in my chest came back, angry and empty as ever. I had nothing to fill it with. I tried folding in on myself, crumpling to the floor, hoping to fill the gap with my own self. But it didn’t work. Nothing ever worked.

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