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havin-a-wee · 3 years

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hey! I am obsessed with ur writing and I was wondering if you could pretty please do an imagine where you are best friends with Harry and you are REALLY horny and are cuddling with him and you get wet n stuff through your panties and he notices and offers to help? thank you SO MUCH ily🥰

Postitions

warnings: oral (female receiving)

word count: 2.5k

hi! sorry this took so long but i’m rlly proud of how it came out so i hope you like it !

“Harry get in here!”

Your best friend popped his head in the door to your bedroom with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What are you smiling about?” Harry only ever made that kind of face when he was up to something, and you weren’t in the mood to deal with one of his ‘surprises’ tonight.

Instead of answering your question, he just stepped fully in the door, his hand gripped a tub of ice cream in your favorite flavor. You shot up from laying down and returned his dopey smile, your body filled with excitement.

“I forgot I had brought this in the car.” he shrugged his shoulders with the ice cream still in his palm as he made his way to the bed.

“Did yo-” Before you could finish your sentence, he held up two silver spoons with his other hand and you grabbed onto one of them quickly, eager to dig into your favorite treat. You pull open the plastic surrounding the cap with a satisfying zip and within a few moments your mouth has enveloped your spoon and the ice cream is melting in your mouth.

The two of you sit on the bed and eat the ice cream quietly for a minute, but once you have savored those first few spoonfuls you speak up. “So what movie are we watching?”

“I was thinking Call Me By Your Name because you said yesterday that you haven’t seen it yet,” Harry responds. You nod with the spoon sticking out of your mouth which made Harry giggle. He turns his attention to your nightstand and he grabs the small black remote and points it towards the large tv that is mounted on your wall.

He clicks around a bit until he gets to Hulu, and from there he searches up the movie. Without saying a word, you both subconsciously shift into your favorite movie-watching position, which is when you lie down and Harry places his head between your thighs.

Yes, it is a more couple-y type of position, but it’s comfortable for both of you, and it allows for a good view of the tv.

The first half of the movie went smoothly, and you found yourself quite invested in the story that was playing out on the screen. It was a cute love story between guys, but it had a bit of angstiness that kept you on your toes.

It was a little over halfway through when the scene arrived. At first there was a hand grabbing a peach off of a tree, which was a bit odd and out of place. But the pieces came together when the camera panned to Elio laying on his bed, and then to his hands creating a crater within the peach.

Now usually when a steamy scene began in the movies you watched with Harry, you contained yourself and we able to watch it without getting turned on. But there was something about the sensuality of the scene that sent a tingling down your spine and straight to your core.

It wasn’t until now that your brain registered that Harry’s head was placed right on the place that was currently warming up with your arousal.

Even when the scene was over, you could feel your panties getting wetter and wetter. You were frozen in place, petrified due to the fact that Harry might be able to feel the difference in temperature. But your worries about Harry transferred to the aroused part of your brain, and you couldn’t help but to imagine him in the same scene that got you so worked up.

Even though he was your best friend, you still found him incredibly attractive. I mean, how could you not? But you realized about a year ago that it didn’t stop at simple attraction. You love Harry, as more than a friend, and that’s what makes this whole thing all the scarier.

You continued watching the movie but after a few more minutes your clit began to throb. It was at this point that you began debating going to the bathroom in your head, but you knew that there was no way you could be that quick. So, you made the tough decision to stick it out and pray that Harry doesn’t move his head.

Your prayers were not answered.

Your focus had been completely diverted from the movie and you were staring at a spot on the wall in a feeble attempt to distract yourself. But it was then that Harry adjusted his head from where it was laying between your legs.

Almost as if on purpose, the back of his head pressed against your swollen button when he shifted, and despite your best efforts, a soft moan escaped your throat.

You squeezed your eyes shut right after it happened, holding onto the small hope that he didn’t hear it. But when the weight of his head disappeared from where it was placed you knew that he did hear it. You opened your eyes slowly, to see him looking at you with a sly grin on his face. He had turned around fully to face you and was sitting on his knees, kind of like he was excited or anticipating something.

Before you could speak, he opened his lips that were still holding a bright grin and spoke.

“You okay?” You knew that he knew, and he was just testing the waters to see what reaction would make you the most comfortable. That was one of the many things you love about him, he always makes sure your comfortable.

“I’m really sorry I just-” Once again, he cut you off.

“S’fine Y/N, I’m the one who should be saying sorry.” His grin faded to a sympathetic smile as you lifted your head to meet your eyes with his. The two of you sat there in silence for a few seconds, before he spoke up again.

“Do you want some help?” You eyes shot up from where you were staring and you looked at him with wide eyes. His eyes went wide too and you could tell that he was scared of your reaction. “I-I mean only if you want to, if you don’t I can just lea-”

This time it was you who cut him off. “Harry..” Your voice was quiet, and you sighed his name, but it wasn’t in negative way.

You placed your hands in front of you and pushed yourself up so your face was inches away from his. “Will you kiss me?”

He nodded furiously and then his lips met yours. He tasted just like you had imagined, sweet and the best thing you had ever tasted. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you welcomed it openly and your lips mashed together sloppily. You mewled into his mouth as you felt his soft lips suck on yours. The kiss was filled with passion and excitement, and you could tell that you weren’t the only one who had been waiting for this for a long, long time.

He pushed you back while continuing to kiss you, laying you flat on the bed as he placed his body atop yours, propped up by his toned arms. He took the opportunity to begin sucking on your jaw, moving down to your neck. He sucked at bit vigorously at your soft skin and you moaned once again, but this time harder and with more neediness.

Instinctively, your hands made their way down to his belt buckle, but his hand grabbed yours to stop you. Much to your dismay, he stopped his assault on your neck and looked into your eyes.

“None of that, m’takin care of you.”

You bit your lip and nodded at his words. You had always found his voice sexy and hearing him say that to you caused you to squeeze your legs to try and get some kind of friction.

He pecked your lips once more before averting his attention to the hem of your pajama top. He looked up at you for approval and you nodded, lifting up your arms as he peeled the garment away from your aching body.

You weren’t wearing a bra, which Harry clearly had zero problems with, his head diving down as he took one of your nipples in his mouth, the other one tracing down your stomach. You jolted at the sudden sensation, your body quivering under his touch.

He detached from your breast and worked at your bottoms, pulling off the flimsy shorts that covered the place that he really wanted to see. He latched two fingers onto the hem of your panties and looked up at you. You nodded once again, but he didn’t pull your panties down.

“Need to here y’say it Y/N. Need to hear y’tell me what y’want me to do to you”

“Please Harry,” you gasped. “Please take my panties off.”

Once again, he did not, but instead smirked at you as he watched you wriggle underneath him.

“What d’ya want me t’do when I take em off pet? Y’want my mouth on you? Y’want me to lick your pretty little cunt til’ you’re begging me to stop?”

“Yes, yes please!” He chuckled lightly before pulling your panties off in one quick motion. Instead of going right to what he desired, he began by sponging kisses from your collarbone down to your stomach until his head was placed right above your core. He took a second to admire your glistening heat and you watched his eyes filled with lust.

He lowered his head and placed his big hands on your thighs, lifting them up and over his shoulder so he has the best angle possible. All of a sudden you felt his tongue licking a stripe over your core. He then made small swipes at your throbbing clit, making you buck up onto his tounge. He moaned against you and you could feel the vibration against your core as he made work on your clit.

He sucked and bit on the sensitive nub, and you were putty in his hands. His mouth was magic, and you were falling apart under his touch. All of the pent-up sexual frustration he had caused you over the years melted away and all that you were thinking about was how good he was making you feel.

“Harry..fuck-oh my god” You stumbled on your words as your mind could only focus on the man who had his head between your legs. You felt him groan again you again and you shuddered at the feeling. The fact that he was enjoying this just as much as you was turning you on even more; if that was possible.

You snaked your hands through the messy curls atop his head. He sucked harshly on your clit and you gripped onto his hair with such force that you were scared you were hurting him, but the moan he responded with calmed your nerves.

The sight of his head between your legs as he pleasured you was something you would never forget, and you also hoped that this wouldn’t be the last time you would get to see it. His tongue moved down to your folds and he began licking inside of you. You rolled your hips against his face while he licked your most sensitive area, and you could feel his hot breath hitting you clit which intensified the pleasure.

“So, so good”

You could feel his lips curl into a smile against you as he buried himself in you. You maintained the tight grip on his curls, pulling harshly when did something that made you feel extra good.

His mouth moved back to your clit and he continued what he had been doing before, sucking and biting at it like he hadn’t eaten in a week. Your shouts of his name only encouraged him, making him go harder and faster every time.

The knot in your stomach was tight, and it was a feeling that you knew, but hadn’t felt in quite a while. “Harry- I’m gonna-” you whispered shakily.

He pulled his mouth an inch away from your sopping cunt and mumbled hungrily. “C’mon baby, come on my tounge. I wanna taste you.” He dove back in and his tongue swiped across your walls.

The pad of his thumb found its way to your aching clit and he rubbed it in quick circles while his tongue dipped inside of you once again.

The knot in your stomach burst and you arched your back as you reached your climax on Harry’s mouth. You saw star as he worked you down from your high, slowing his movements but not stopping. As soon as he removed his mouth from you your knees buckled and you collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily and trying to process what just happened.

You heard him laugh and you watched him slip your thighs off of his shoulders and come lay next to you. You rolled onto your side so you could face him, looking at his face for the first time since he found a place between your thighs.

His lips were glistening from your juices, and he smiled at you while he licked them up from around his mouth. The two of you lay on your sides staring at each other for a bit, but then it hit you.

“Wait Harry, I didn’t take care of you”

“S’fine love, I just wanted to make you feel good.”

It was almost bittersweet because you knew that he had to like you back in some regard, but you didn’t know if it was only sexual, or he wanted a romantic relationship like you did.

You sat up, lost in your own thoughts in anxieties. He sat up quickly as well, and his face was riddled with concern.

“What’s wrong?” You could hear the fear in his voice, but you were scared because you couldn’t figure out why he was scared.

“I just- what does this mean?”

Harry sighed and looked down at his lap, then looked back up at you. “I really like you Y/N. Like more than a friend. And I d’nknow if you feel the same, but judging by what y’just let me do, I think the feeling is mutual.” He smiled at the end, and you smiled right back.

“The feeling is mutual.” That was all you said before you leaned into him and kissed him again. This kiss was softer, more loving and affectionate than the kiss you had previously shared. He placed you on his lap, but it wasn’t sexual in nature. It was more of a ‘you’re all mine’ kind of gesture.

He broke the kiss and the two of you looked down at each other with your smiles still bright and full. “Y’know I moved my head on purpose. I could feel you heated up.” His cheery smiled had turned into a cheeky grin as a blush color spread across your cheeks. You playfully slapped him in the shoulder and you both burst out into laughter. As your laughter subsided you leaned into his ear and whispered.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

#harry styles smut #harry styles #one direction smut #fine line #best friend!harry #harry styles x reader #request

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withyouandthemoon · 2 years

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🤩💞💯 (sorry for unfollowing omg. i meant to send an ask and ended up unfollowing smh @ me)

Hahaha don’t worry! And this got long...by accident.

🤩 A fic that made you SLAM that “subscribe” button

Recently It was Who Needs You by AzulRoma. Once in a while I die for a long angsty multichapter and this one got me in the feels. I’ve been wanting to comment or write a rec for it for a long time, so I guess now is as good as any. This is one of those stories that just...wrenches your heart so good. There are things that I’m not totally on board with of course, llike the child (ugh the child... also I want Alaric to die very very soon seriously). But the author is simply so good at portraying all characters and dynamics they even made me mildly care about Hayley, not that I have anything against per se. There was this one scene where Klaus and Hayley had to put their child in danger for something that they have no control over, and they go together to a restaurant to get ice-cream while intimidating and harassing the shop owner just to get rid of an edge of this burden on their heart that keeps them from breathing - it’s so good. It’s authentic and in character and, once again I’m saying this, making me care about something that I didn’t expect to.

Also, did I mention Caroline going to NOLA? Did I mention mutual pining, like, waves and waves and waves of it? I will always remember reliving that one scene in the early chapters for like three days after I first read it, when Caroline goes to NOLA for a crisis and lives across the street from Klaus’s house and they both so obviously have feelings for each other yet cannot act on it for so many significant or pesky reasons - and then, one evening, they just stand on their respective balconies, gazing at each other, not speaking because there are too many prying ears and too many feelings and they can’t find the words and it’s not the right time and so they just...stand there. And stare.

It’s the single most poignant but hauntingly beautiful scene that I can think of. It destroys me. And every precious interaction where Klaus and Caroline hold back hold back hold back but cannot fuching hold back and it leaks from their lingering eyes and hovering hands and permeates the air around them - they are exactly like that.

So yeah. SUBSCRIBE.

💞 A fic that led to you making friends with the author

Hmmm... This one takes some thinking because I’m generally very bad at making friends, and I revere my favorite authors which makes it very difficult to start a converstaion with them. Mostly I just...exist, and hope someone amazing finds me. Somehow.

But I will say that my gift from the recent exchange which is From Nothing Comes a King by Perfectpro has finally granted me the occasion and courage to talk to sweet @helpless-in-sleep, and it’s such a great read I’m still obssessing over it. I mean, King Arthur AU with dragon!Caroline - what more can I possibly ask for? There is so much trust and connection but also love and lust and possession (goodness the sense of possessiveness in this I cannot even) between them that even the smallest thing like taking a walk side by side under the moonlight makes me scream and swoon. I’ve said this and I’ll say it again: that scene where Klaus marries another for political reasons but leaves his own reception to chase after Caroline and puts the crown on her head - it will have my heart forever. And this is part of the reason why I love this fic so much, that the emotions are beautifully layered and every nuance of it makes perfect sense. Ultimately they trust each other beyond a shadow of doubt and there’s nothing that can stand between them, and yet there still those tiny pinches of jealousy and grudge and pettiness and they make up the flavors of a very fine love.

And even if I got some headcanons, which I’m very grateful for, I’m still waiting for the day when Jenn’s muse hits again and Klaus comes back. Spoiler alert.

💯 A fic that makes you think #writergoals

Hands down, Songbird by Scarletborn. I’m guessing people have already said so many nice things about this masterpiece, but you know one of those works where just a few lines in and you have a fanfic italic oh equivalant of a falling-in-love moment? The ones that make you want to shake the author and hug them and be them at the same time? Yeah this is it.

Perfect characterization. Perfect plot. Perfect pace. Perfect control. Perfect dialogue. Perfect prose. Perfect symbolism and perfect ambience. Perfect lines that cut you raw. Perfect story that comes full circle with so much angst but so much more hope and growth. Perfect scene where Klaus and Caroline lie together reading poetry. I’ll never get over it.

#told you this got long lol #thank you for asking!#klaroline #kc fic rec #ask games

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taetaesbaebaepsae · 4 years

Text

Tell Me Pretty Lies

Summary: Yoongi meets you when he’s 13, and falls in love with you about thirty seconds after that.

Warnings: this is mostly angst with a little bit of smut, vaginal sex, oral sex, just a lot of sad and mad, alcohol used as a coping mechanism, just an angsty friends to lovers au nothing to see here

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 7181

There is often some new kid coming in mid quarter, and Yoongi doesn’t pay much mind to any of it when his homeroom teacher introduces you.

He does look up, though, when you speak, your voice quiet but strong.

“My name is Y/n,” is all you say, even though the teacher encourages you to say something about yourself.

Yoongi likes it, likes the way you tilt your chin up just slightly and shake your head when the teacher pushes.

He likes the way your hair curls at your neck, the way your backpack is slung half over one shoulder, as if you could drop it at any time.

Yoongi tries not to stare, but his brain wants to memorize the line of your jaw, your cheekbones. He looks back down at his notebook when you walk towards him.

You keep your head down as you walk across the room, settle next to his desk and he smells something like raspberries when you settle in.

He doesn't look up, writing his name over and over in his notebook, until you clear your throat.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "Can I borrow a pencil?"

When he looks up he's struck by your big eyes and he silently hands over his, the only one he has.

You smile, big and open, and Yoongi spends the rest of his life chasing how that smile made him feel.

His hands are shaking when he pins on your corsage, palms sweaty when you take his hand while your mother takes pictures.

Yoongi had gone on and on about how much he hated the idea of prom, how it was all institutionalized bullshit, but you’d just smiled, tilted your head.

“I think it’s kind of nice.”

“Yeah right,” he dismisses, shoveling another spoonful of rice into his mouth in the cafeteria.

But you keep smiling, moving your food around on your plate.

“Really? Prom?”

You shrug. “I like the idea of dressing up, someone wanting to show me off.”

“Yeah?”

You look up at him then, nod a little, and that little wistful smile tells him you don’t think anyone will ask you, tells him you don’t think your mother can afford a dress, and his chest aches.

“Wanna go with me?” He asks, and the way your smile widens into a grin makes him feel like he could rule the world.

The dance is a blur of flashing lights from pictures and the disco ball they’ve hung, of his hands on your hips as you dance to whatever dumb pop song is playing, your flushed cheeks. There’s spiked punch and his friends handing him a flask of something cheap and acidic and by the end of the night his head is spinning.

What he does remember, he remembers so vividly that he can feel your hands on his chest when he thinks about it, can see the smeared lipstick at the corner of your mouth, feel the brick against his back when you push him against the wall.

Did he kiss you or did you kiss him? He doesn’t remember, it’s like everything shut off the instant your lips met, the instant your tongue slides into his mouth like it belongs there and all he can feel is your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, your breasts against his chest. It was probably just a couple of moments, that kiss, probably just an instant, but the way Yoongi remembers it is like you’d stood there for hours like that and when you pull away he remembers clutching at your dress.

You’d laughed, covering your mouth, and your eyes are sparkling and glassy and Yoongi would do unimaginable things to get that moment back, to live in it forever.

He remembers you holding his hand in the car, remembers your head on his shoulder.

The next day he has a throbbing headache but he can still taste your strawberry flavored lip gloss and a hangover can’t stop him from smiling all day.

When you don’t answer his calls, don’t show up at school for two days, there’s a panic in his throat that he can’t ignore and he fights the urge to show up at your house for as long as he can, which turns out to be noon on the second day.

He skips third period and knocks on your door and when you open it, your eyes seem too big, your mouth swollen.

“Yoongi,” you say, in this hoarse voice, and he wonders if it’s from too much sleep or too many cigarettes. He opens his mouth and then there’s this low voice, calling your name from behind you.

Yoongi feels like all the air has gone out of his lungs.

“Oh,” he says stupidly, standing there, looking at you blankly.

“Yoongi,” you say, more softly, but by then his legs have started working and he’s walking fast toward his house, fighting tears and the acid in his stomach.

Yoongi fucking hates frat parties. He’s not even in a frat, but his best friend Hoseok is, and he’s been dragged out to some kegger and he’s around all these idiots chugging beer and holding a solo cup when he sees you.

Some beefy freshman is doing a kegstand and you’re just laughing big and open and it makes his heart flutter in his chest.

He’s making his way over to you, wedged in between a sea of fratboys, when the freshman stands up and you steady him with your hands on your hips.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” you mutter, but you’re still laughing when the guy leans down to kiss your mouth.

It’s familiar, the way Yoongi’s stomach rolls, the way his skin feels tingly as if there’s something crawling beneath it. He takes in a deep breath, moves back toward the keg as if he won’t spend the whole night watching you, wondering if you were taking someone home.

“Who’s that?” Hoseok asks when he returns, eyes big and glassy despite only having had a couple of beers. Yoongi had told him he was too much of a lightweight to join a frat.

“Her? That’s Y/n.”

“An ex?”

Yoongi snorts, takes another gulp of beer before answering. It hurts, that question, and he’s been asked it so many times and he’s not quite sure how to explain what you are to him.

“Nah. She’s my best friend.”

He hears it in his own voice, how it goes soft and gentle, and he hates himself for it. Luckily Hoseok is tipsy enough to be easily distracted, pulled into a game of beer pong or whatever the fuck frats play at these stupid parties.

Yoongi’s content to be a wallflower usually, but he finds himself scanning the room, looking for you. All he sees is broad shoulders of the frat boys and a scattering of freshmen girls. He only spots you by the guy you were with, he’s got a Greek letter painted sloppily on his chest and you sitting in his lap on the couch.

After another couple of beers Yoongi is drunk enough to go over to the couch, to come over and sit next to you with his beer in his hand.

“Yoongi,” you say, almost in a breath, and scramble off the freshman’s lap to be closer to him.

It makes his throat ache, how you put your head on his shoulder, just like you did that trip home from prom, and he puts his arm around you out of instinct.

“Y/n-ah,” he calls softly. “You need me to take you home?”

“I can take her home,” the kid pipes up, words slurred around the edges.

Yoongi’s eyes shoot to his, and the kid backs down almost instantly, slumping back against the couch.

You nod against his shoulder, curling into him even more, and he stands up to tug you up. On the walk home, you don’t even seem that drunk, you’re walking fine but you lean against him nonetheless, keep his hand tight in yours until you reach your dorms.

He starts to walk away when you unlock the door but you tug at his hand.

“Come lie down with me,” you say in a hushed whisper, and Yoongi knows how small these dorm beds are, he’d been awkwardly in one with a couple of girls before, knows he’ll wake up with his arm asleep and his head hanging off the bed, but your eyes are big and pleading and so he just follows you to the bed, props up against the wall and tries not to look when you shuck off your jeans, climb into bed in your tanktop and panties.

Instead of letting him spoon you like he’d expected, you nuzzle your face into his neck.

“Yoongi,” you say again, this breath against his throat, and he feels this wave of emotion so big it threatens to drown him.

“What?” He asks softly, tugging the sheets up to your neck.

“Love you,” you mumble, throwing an arm around his waist and his breath catches in his chest.

Your hair smells like tobacco and Axe body spray but he wouldn’t change a single moment.

Yoongi thinks he’s intelligent, he thinks he can predict what’s coming to a certain degree, but the night before his college graduation, he’s completely blindsided. It isn’t as if you haven’t talked. You always talk, even if it’s just here and there, a couple of text messages over a few weeks. Yoongi doesn’t ever let too much time go by without speaking to you, he hasn’t since you’d met.

But it hadn’t been the same, ever since you started dating that sophomore, Jungkook. It isn’t as if Yoongi doesn’t like him.

He’s a sweet enough kid, seems to be crazy about you. Yoongi can’t hate him, and that’s what makes it hard. You only shrugged when Yoongi asked you about him, and that made the tightness in his chest loosen just a bit.

It’s a bit after midnight when there’s this knock on the door, a knock he knows. It’s two knocks, a pause, and then another, and the sound of it always makes his heart jump into his throat.

He rushes to the door and when he opens it you’re standing there with your backpack on and rolling luggage behind you, eyes wide and wet.

“Can I stay here tonight?”

As if you have to ask. Yoongi opens the door, takes your luggage, can’t stop himself from taking you by the shoulders.

“What happened?”

“We broke up,” you say, your voice low and hoarse again, and your eyes, there’s something in them that hurts him, makes him ache deep in his bones.

“Do you want me to firebomb his house?” Yoongi asks flippantly, but he means it, he’d set the world on fire for you.

You laugh a little and sniffle. “Nothing like that, Yoongi. I just needed to let go.”

Yoongi pulls you into his arms before he can think about it, kisses the top of your head.

“It’s okay,” he promises, and he means that too, he’ll make it okay, no matter what.

You hug him so tight, press your face into his chest and cry for a few moments before pulling away and wiping at your face.

“Do you have any beer?”

That’s how you end up sitting on the arm of the couch next to him, and he’s half drunk on beer and half drunk on the way your arm feels light around his shoulder, your nails scratching at his bicep just lightly enough to give him goosebumps.

“Yoongi,” you call softly, and he’d been staring at the television not paying a bit of attention to what was happening on the screen so he looked up at you and your mouth looked so full, so close.

“Hmm?” He doesn’t seem able to string a sentence together and he has only had three beers.

“How come you never kissed me?”

Yoongi takes in a breath like all the air has thinned, and he doesn’t think, for once, doesn’t think a single word, just puts his arm around your waist and pulls you into his lap.

You make a surprised squeak but you’re smiling, that big open smile that made him feel like he was on top of the world.

He kisses you first on the corner of your mouth, soft, and then again on the softest part of your bottom lip. When you part your lips and let him slide his tongue inside he feels a bolt of pleasure shoot up his spine.

It isn’t his first kiss, or his second, or his tenth, but it’s you. It’s you and you make him so hungry, it’s like he’s starving for it, for the taste of bitter beer on your tongue, the soft breathy moans you make into his mouth.

“Yoongi,” you moan, and he pulls away but you shake your head, mumbling protests and clutching at his shirt. “Don’t let me go.”

“Never,” he says fiercely, and kisses you again, harder, catching your bottom lip between your teeth.

When you move off his lap he feels empty, this void in his chest, but you take his hand, tug him up and lead him to the bedroom.

You undress slow, like you’re putting on a show for him and he’s rapt, looking up at you with his tongue darting to the corner of his mouth. He sits there like an idiot, fully dressed until you drop to your knees and put your hand on his waistband.

“Y/n,” he breathes, but when you look up at him he’s struck silent again by your big eyes and the way you yank down his sweats, your tongue darting out to wet your lips when his cock is freed.

He’s half hard just from kissing you and he feels his face heating up, embarrassed, but you just make this moan in the back of your throat.

When you dip your head, his cock twitches in anticipation and when you suck the head into your mouth he draws in a sharp breath and fists his hands in the sheets.

He can’t say he hasn’t imagined this, hasn’t imagined it was you when he took himself in hand or worse, when a girl was between his thighs.

Imagination is much different from the real thing, you’re looking up at him and he’s holding his breath and feeling his balls draw up before you’ve even gotten properly started.

Yoongi cups your face in his hands and you make a whining noise that makes him chuckle.

“Your mouth is too perfect, baby,” he mumbles, and he’s surprised at how calm his voice sounds to his own ears. He’d expected his mouth to run away with him, expected to tell you all the things he’d been holding inside for all these years, but he can barely speak, barely even form a sentence, much less a confession.

“Condoms?” You ask, moving to straddle his thighs, and all he can do is nod, a lump in his throat because your breasts are in his face.

You look at him expectantly, smiling, and he shakes his head to clear it and scoots back on the bed, putting an arm around your waist to pull you with him.

You giggle at how awkward the movement is and he groans but he’s smiling when he manages to find a condom in his bedside drawer.

You take it from him immediately and shift on his lap and he can’t even believe this is happening, is still looking down at your breasts, the swell of your stomach, the mound of your pussy. He’s never even seen you naked and he feels like he doesn’t have enough time to drink you in like he wants to. He wants to memorize every swell and dip, every line and mark, but you’re already applying the condom and rocking your hips forward and he can’t think anymore.

“Oh, oh,” is all he can manage, somewhere between a gasp and a groan, and your lips find his and you’re kissing him like you can’t get enough, like you’re just as hungry as he’s always been and he can’t help himself from thrusting up under you, his hands moving from your breasts to your hips and back again.

He doesn’t know what to touch first, wants everything, wants all of you, but his body isn’t listening to his brain and he’s so close to orgasm that all he can do for the most part is lie there while you work him over. You pull away and brace your hands on his chest, and he’s rapt.

He’s been with a dozen girls or so over his college experience, but this is so vastly different that all he can do is watch you, mouth parted, his tongue coming out to wet the corner of his mouth.

All his sexual experiences seem to be when he was drunk at some party and got a blowjob or met someone in a club and took them home, bent them over the couch arm. It wasn’t like this, it wasn’t slow and sensual, you rolling your hips and rocking forward at the same time, your breasts bouncing, your cunt sucking him in with every thrust when he can’t help himself and his hips twitch up.

Yoongi feels lightheaded from the way you moan his name, from how your fingernails press into his chest, how you don’t even close your eyes, keeping them on his and there’s something so hungry in them, something that reminds him of how he’s felt every moment he’s spent with you for years.

He knows it’s coming, can feel it hitch in his chest and his throat before the words came out.

“Y/n, you’re so beautiful.”

The words come out low and almost hoarse, and your hips slow just a bit and he’s grateful, he doesn’t think he could have lasted much longer at your pace.

“Yoongi, tell me you want me.”

He blinks up at you, his hands going to spread up your back. He sits up, which just spears him deeper into you and it makes you gasp.

He pulls you closer, your breasts against his chest, his forehead touching yours.

“I’ve always wanted you,” he says, and it’s this cracked whisper and he feels like he’s lost 100 pounds of weight, saying those words. It doesn’t stop there, though, everything spilling out of him and he can’t stop it. “I’ve always loved you, Y/n.”

A sob catches in your chest and Yoongi kisses you softly, ignoring his body’s urge to move his hips.

“I love you too,” you whisper into his mouth, and something like “I’m sorry,” but he’s stopped listening after you’d confessed, his heart jolting in his chest.

He flips you over on your back, kisses playfully down your neck and he can’t stop smiling.

“Don’t cry,” he tells you, and you give him the most beautiful, watery smile.

After that, after your words and your smile it’s soft and slow and wonderful, he keeps kissing along your jawline as he moves inside you, across the bridge of your nose.

He hates having to pull out of you, it makes him feel disconnected from you somehow, but you roll over, throw your leg around his hip, nuzzle your face into his chest, and he feels like he can’t contain all the things he feels. He wants to mumble all the words he’s wanted to say to you most of his life but his eyelids are so heavy and you feel so soft and warm in his arms and before he knows it, there’s sunlight streaming through the window and the bed feels oddly cold.

He mumbles your name but after there’s no answer he figures you’ve gone to the bathroom, that you’ll come padding back, and when you don’t he sits up in bed.

After that, everything seems to move at the speed of light. Your luggage is gone, no sign of you at all except the smell of you on his sheets and when he calls you, you don’t answer. It takes a few hours before he calls Jungkook, wondering if you’d gone back, his chest feeling tight.

“I haven’t seen her since she left,” Jungkook says, voice hoarse, and Yoongi would almost feel bad for him if it weren’t for the ache in his throat, the panic churning his stomach. “She’s doing that study abroad thing, and she said she didn’t want me to wait for her.”

“That what?” It seems like Yoongi’s vision has narrowed to a pinpoint.

He barely hears Jungkook explaining that you’re studying abroad in England for a year, that you’ve disabled all your social media so that you can “really experience things.”

It takes another couple of hours before things sink in and suddenly something like anger rises in him so strongly that he can’t help himself, he rips the sheets off his bed, hating that they smell like your hair and your skin, throws his mattress against the wall and none of it makes him feel better.

He tries to distract himself with music, but that doesn’t help either, he just keeps hearing songs that you danced to at prom all those years ago, or some sad song that makes him think of the downturned corner of your mouth when you’d showed up at his door with your luggage and red rimmed eyes.

Whiskey seems to help more, makes him feel less present, adrift in a way that he usually hated but it was blissful, now, quieted his head and the pounding of his heart. It doesn’t last long, though, there’s always this line where he slips over comfortably buzzed into a downswing where all his emotions hit him at once, and around the fourth drink, he tries to call you again.

You don’t answer and there’s this lump in his throat he can barely breathe around when his phone buzzes with a text.

I’m sorry.

When you return from your trip abroad, you’re glowing and healthy and full of light in a way Yoongi has rarely seen you, and even though there’s something bitter in his throat the first time he sees you, he can’t help but fall back into being your friend again.

Being your friend and wanting more is something he got used to around age 13, so it isn’t as hard as he thinks it is going to be. At least not at first.

It gets a hell of a lot harder when you kiss him after his 23rd birthday party, your cheeks flushed with alcohol. It’s just a peck full on the lips but it makes his skin tingle, and then you do it again, and again, until he can’t help but take the back of your neck in his hand and slide his tongue into your mouth.

He eats you out with your legs on his shoulders and your ass up against the glass door of his apartment, out on the balcony, and he tastes you on his lips and tongue for hours after you fall asleep in his arms.

Yoongi tells himself he’s not watching you sleep, just making sure you won’t throw up after all the drinking you’d done, but he’s full of shit because he drank more than you and he keeps staring at your eyelashes fanned across your cheekbones, the way your mouth parts, the little whine you make when he shifts.

That’s how it starts, the benefits portion of your friendship, and you stop dating anyone else and Yoongi doesn’t want to ask what this is for fear that you’ll stop it, disappear from his bed in the wee hours of the morning like last time.

It’s a fragile balance he keeps by pretending he’s not in love with you anymore.

“So you guys are like, fucking on the regular now?” Jimin asks after he sees you leaving in Yoongi’s tshirt and a pair of cutoffs at 6am to get ready for work.

Yoongi shrugs. “I wouldn’t say regular.”

Taehyung and Jungkook are playing an oddly calm round of Smash on the floor, with Jimin on his phone, feet curled up on the couch next to Yoongi.

“Seems pretty regular,” Taehyung comments idly.

“I’m glad you two are finally together,” Jungkook says, and Jimin kicks him in the shoulder with the side of his foot, causing Jungkook to look back with an affronted expression.

Yoongi feels something flutter around his head but he ignores it, clears his throat.

“We’re not….together. It’s just...friends.”

“Friends with benefits,” Taehyung says, just as idly, knocking Jungkook off the screen.

Jungkook lets out a long breath. “They’ve always been more than friends. Right, hyung?”

He looks up with Yoongi with wide eyes and Yoongi feels a pang in his chest that he ignores.

Ignoring is something he’s gotten rather good at the last couple of months.

“Right,” Jimin says before he can speak, looking at Yoongi sharply. “Which is why this is a bad idea.”

“It’s none of your business,” Yoongi snaps back.

“Oh yeah? Like last year when she skipped the country after you fucked her and we had to watch you every second so you didn’t drink yourself to death for a full month?”

Yoongi draws in a deep breath. “It’s not like that this time.”

Taehyung shrugs, sitting down his controller. “If hyung says it’s not like that, it’s not like that.”

Jimin scoffs. “Right.”

“I think it’s a good thing,” Jungkook insists. “They’ll end up together and it’ll be a great story.”

“Jungkookie,” Jimin says with a fond lilt to his voice. “You’re so stupid.”

Jungkook tackles Jimin and that ends the conversation and Yoongi is grateful to be able to sneak off to his room and pretend he’s not washing his sheets because he’s lazy and not because he likes to smell your shampoo on his pillowcase when he falls asleep.

It goes on like that for weeks, six, not that he’s counting, when you ask him to come out with you to celebrate your work promotion.

It isn’t as if you’re going out on a date, Jimin and Jungkook are coming as well as some of your friends, but Yoongi feels nervous nonetheless, changing his clothes three times before settling on black slacks and a white button up.

He has to keep himself from running his hands through his hair when he and Jimin take an Uber to meet you at the club, and Yoongi almost wants to ask the driver to take him back home when he sees you through the window.

You’re wearing this crimson red dress that hugs your curves, low heels that show off your calves and thighs, and the brightest smile, hair up on top of your head, curls bouncing at your throat.

Yoongi feels like he’s been fighting this losing battle for the last six weeks and when you throw your arms around his neck, loose and already a bit tipsy from congratulatory drinks, he’s about ready to throw in the towel.

It goes on like that all night, you sticking to his side, touchy, even going so far as to plant a kiss on the back of his neck that gives him goosebumps, introducing him to all your friends with this big smile and your hand curled around his bicep, like you’re proud, and if he wasn’t ignoring how much he wanted you to, Yoongi could almost imagine that you were introducing him as your boyfriend instead of your best friend.

If Yoongi wasn’t spending so much time pretending not to love you, he might have noticed when things start to fall apart, that night, somewhere around his fifth beer. You’ve stopped being attached to him the past couple of hours and Yoongi misses the heat of your skin next to his suddenly, his mind hazy from drinking all night, and starts to look around for you.

Before he can find you, Jimin sidles up next to him, tugs at his hand.

“I think we should go home, hyung,” he says, and it’s not the drunk whiny tone he usually has, something different in it, and Yoongi frowns at him.

“What do you mean, go home? This is Y/n’s party.”

“I know, but she’s-she’s gonna go home too.” Jimin looks weird. He’s being weird and Yoongi just wants to find you and tell you goodbye but Jimin is hanging off him like a spider monkey.

When he finally catches sight of you, dragging his friend around the bar, the air goes out of his lungs in a long, pathetic whoosh.

Yoongi vaguely remembers being introduced to the guy who currently has his tongue halfway down your throat, some coworker of yours, Jay something,

“Oh,” he says, and his tongue and throat feel numb and slow and he doesn’t know if it’s from the alcohol or the way his heart has dropped to somewhere near his ankles.

“Hyung, let’s just go home,” Jimin says again, quieter, and Yoongi nods.

Jimin stays over, keeps watching him as if Yoongi is going to upend a container of bleach and Yoongi can’t blame him.

He isn’t sure if it feels better or worse than last time. Everything feels numb, and he’s a little worried that when the alcohol wears off it’ll all hit him at once so he doesn’t complain when Jimin climbs into bed with him.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Yoongi says, his words slow and thick, after the lights are out.

Jimin finds his hand in the darkness and squeezes it. “No, hyung. You can’t.”

When Yoongi tells you that he can’t keep doing the physical part of your relationship anymore a couple days later, your bottom lip trembles just a bit and he wants to take it all back, pull you into his arms and change his mind entirely but he squeezes his fists at his sides instead.

“Yoongi,” you call before you leave. “Are you mad at me? Are we-are we okay?”

“We’re always okay,” he says softly, and he means it, there’s nothing he can think of that would tear him away from you.

It turns out his imagination just wasn’t big enough to imagine the fissure that happens a few years later.

There have been lulls in your friendship before, in college and after, but for three years nothing much happens. Yoongi only sees you a handful of times, lunch here or there, and most of your communication is via text or through social media.

You have a pretty big twitter following because you’re witty and gorgeous and maybe Yoongi checks it at least one time a day, but otherwise he’s busy and he doesn’t think about it too much. At least he tries not to.

One day he starts to get a lot of notifications at once, and he checks his phone in the middle of his day job (At Best Buy, which is incredibly boring but he can put in his earbuds and mix songs in between unloading boxes and helping customers decide which laptop is best to browse the internet on), and there’s all these tweets tagging you in congratulations.

Yoongi tilts his head, thinks about texting you to ask what the big news is, but instead traces it back to your page.

It turns out to be a simple tweet, a picture of you blowing a kiss to the camera with some guy with his head on his shoulder and Yoongi wrinkles his nose at the familiar sting of jealousy that pierces through him.

He’s used to it, you’ve dated off and on throughout your friendship and it isn’t like he likes it, knowing someone else is holding you at night, someone else’s dick in your mouth, but they never last long and you never take them seriously.

The caption underneath the picture is what makes him drop his phone, makes his manager ask if he needs to go home early.

He proposed. Should I say yes? ;)

Yoongi does go home, feeling adrift again, like he’s standing outside his body and watching himself drive home. He’s gotten a series of increasingly worried texts from Jimin and so he responds back to say that yes, he’s seen, and yes, he’s going home, and yes, he thinks it’s a good idea if he has company.

“It’s been three years,” Yoongi says, blankly, when Jimin sits down on the couch next to him.

“It’s been like, fifteen years,” Jimin says, and that isn’t helpful.

“No, I mean, since I last-since I said….I said it was over, that I wouldn’t think of her that way anymore.”

“I know,” Jimin says, and that’s a little more helpful.

“She’s never been serious with anyone before,” Yoongi says, still feeling blank, like he doesn’t know what he’s going to say until he says it.

“I know,” Jimin says again, pushing a cup of tea into Yoongi’s hands.

“Do you think she’ll really get married?” Yoongi looks over at Jimin as if he needs help, as if he’s drowning, and that’s exactly how it feels.

Jimin takes a deep breath and Yoongi braces himself for Jimin’s hard truths. It’s funny, Jimin, he’s so sweet and helpful, but he’s also always there to tell him when he’s being stupid.

“Have you ever actually...told her?”

Yoongi blinks at him. “What, that I--yeah. Yeah, I’ve said it.”

“What, when you were fucking?”

Yoongi chokes a little on his tea. “Well, not that it’s any of your business, but yeah.”

“Hyung, you can’t just confess during sex and expect her to take it seriously.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Jimin doesn’t argue with him, this time, just sips his tea with his shoulder against Yoongi’s and it does help and Yoongi is grateful to have him as a friend.

Yoongi just tries not to think about it too much the rest of the week, just sends you a quick text: congrats and goes back to work like nothing happened with his stupid cracked phone. It gets better and he’s able to ignore it for the most part until you and your new boyfriend (fiance, his mind whispers) show up at his job looking for a new phone.

“--family plan,” Yoongi hears him say through the rush of blood in his ears and he’s just staring at you and you have this puzzled smile on your face.

“It’s my break time,” Yoongi mumbles, and he takes off his nametag and throws it on the counter and leaves.

In hindsight, quitting his job and only means of income because he wanted to avoid being in love and having his heart broken for like, the seventeenth time was probably a dramatic and ill-advised idea.

He thinks this a week later when he’s moved in with Hoseok and he keeps staring at his phone, looking at your texts but not responding to them.

Hoseok, on the other hand, is the worst friend in the whole world and when you call him, answers right away.

“Oh, hello, Y/n!” He says in the loudest voice, and Yoongi winces from his spot on the couch.

Hoseok walks toward him and Yoongi makes all manner of gestures to tell him that he did not want to talk to you.

Hoseok ignores them all.

“Yoongi? Oh, sure! He’s right here!”

Yoongi glares at Hoseok when he takes the phone and Hoseok just gives him a dazzling smile.

“Hey,” he says, defeated, into the phone.

“Yoongi,” you breathe, like his name is some exalted thing, and he hates the way it makes his heart leap. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you so long. Did you move?”

“Uh...yeah, I moved in with Hoseok. I uh, changed jobs.”

“Oh. Are you...are you okay?”

“Fine,” he lies, like he’s not sitting in the same spot he’d been in for two days, watching TIkTok videos in an effort to think about anything other than you.

“I was hoping I could see you.”

Yoongi doesn’t know if he should. He doesn’t know if he can. Of course, he says yes immediately, and then after he hangs up chucks his phone at Hoseok who just won’t stop smiling.

You say you’ll come over the next day, with no time or anything, so Yoongi sleeps in, knowing that Hoseok will be working like all other gainfully employed people. Unfortunately, you’d always been an early riser, and he’s woken up by the sound of the doorbell ringing.

Half asleep, he stumbles to the door, wondering if Hoseok had forgotten his keys or something, and when he sees you he rubs a hand across his face.

“Fuck. Hi.”

“Nice to see you too,” you snort, pushing past him. You’re carrying a brown paper bag that smells heavenly.

“Sorry, didn’t expect you so early,” he mumbles, peering into the bag.

You slap his hands away, and it makes him smile. He thinks maybe he can do this after all.

Then, when you open the bag and hand him his bagel with salmon spread, his favorite, he sees a little diamond twinkling on his finger and he sits down hard at the kitchen table.

You don’t seem to notice that the world seems to be tilting on its axis, just sit across from him, pushing the bagel closer to him.

“Eat. You look hungover.”

“I’m not...much,” he admits, thinking that the fourth glass of wine at dinner had maybe been a bad idea.

Yoongi eats mechanically and you don’t speak much, just watch him with an eagle eye.

When he’s finished, he meets your eyes.

“So, what’s up?”

“What’s up?” You huff out a breath. “You’ve been avoiding me for like, three years, and all you can ask is what’s up?”

Yoongi sputters. “I haven’t been...what are you talking about?”

“You like friends with benefits broke up with me and then kept cancelling all our dates and then you just walked out when I saw you at work.” You’re looking up at him, chin upturned like you’re angry, and all he can do is open and close his mouth like a fish.

“I didn’t...I didn’t mean to,” is all he can say, and he really didn’t. He just couldn’t keep spending time with you without wanting to kiss you and he thought that would pass but all this time, three fucking years and he’s barely seen you and all he can do now is wonder if you still taste the same.

“I just...I miss you, Yoongi. There’s some really big stuff happening in my life and you’ve always been there for it, and I want you here for this.”

“Oh,” Yoongi says, as if you’d splashed him with ice cold water. “Oh, yeah, you’re getting married.”

You beam at him, a real smile, that smile he’d been chasing his whole life, and instead of it breaking his heart it makes something like rage churn in his stomach.

“There’s no date, or anything, Jaehyun says-”

“I’m not coming to the wedding,” Yoongi says, getting up to throw away the napkin too aggressively, needing to do something with his hands. It feels like that night you left, all this anger rolling around him in useless waves.

“Yoongi….why not?” You stand up, follow him into the kitchen, and he’s just clenching his fingers at his sides, not looking at you.

“You never had a steady boyfriend that you gave a shit about,” Yoongi starts, and he honestly doesn’t mean to say it, doesn’t mean to say any of the things he says. “Even in college, that Jungkook kid, he was just a fun time, somebody to piggy back you around campus and make you feel good about yourself. I got that. I understood that. It was like that in high school, too.”

“Yoongi-”

“And then you told me you loved me.” Yoongi turns to look at you then and you’ve got your head down, shoulders slumped.

“Yoongi,” you say again, mournfully, but he can’t stop, it’s all pouring out of him now.

“You told me you loved me and I was so happy and then you just fucking left!” He’s shouting now and he lowers his voice, takes a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. I just...I’m not coming, okay?”

“Yoongi, you don’t understand,” you start, taking a step toward him, but he jerks when you touch his arm.

Everything feels like too much, his head too loud, the air too thin, but he feels like this needs to happen or he’ll explode, like if he doesn’t ask you that he’ll lose his mind and just hide in Hoseok’s apartment forever.

“I don’t understand,” he agrees. “I don’t understand because I thought you just didn’t do relationships, you just didn’t fall in love. You didn’t do commitment. That made sense to me. All this time, that’s how I felt better. But it isn't that at all. You just didn’t fall in love with me.”

His voice breaks and he hates himself for it, hates himself more for the moisture at the backs of his eyes.

“That’s not true!” You cry, and when he looks at you, there are tears streaming down your face.

His head is spinning and he doesn’t know how to answer you but he doesn’t have to, you just step closer and closer.

“I fell in love with you so many times,” you say, and Yoongi chokes on air, has to cough to clear his throat enough to take in another breath. “But you know me, Yoongi, I’m...I’m a mess. I’m a mess and I couldn’t risk…” You take in a deep shuddering breath.

“What are you talking about?” He asks, voice low and hoarse, and he can’t stop himself from reaching out to cup your cheek. “You’re not a mess.”

“I’m the biggest mess!” You cry, sniffling. “I’ve always been the biggest mess and you made me happy when no one else could and I couldn't...I couldn’t ruin that. I couldn’t ruin us. I couldn’t ruin you.”

“Y/n, you idiot, you’ve ruined me ten times over since the day I met you.” Yoongi says fondly, smiling, and you chuckle through your tears. When you move your hand to wipe your face, that diamond catches his eye again and he draws in a long breath. “If you want me to come to the wedding, I’ll be there.”

You look up at him, sharply, almost like you’re angry. “Yoongi. You’re the idiot. There’s not going to be a wedding.”

You lean up on your tiptoes to kiss him and he feels like he’s slammed back into his body for the first time in years.

There is a wedding, after all. You look beautiful in white and his palms are cold and sweaty just like when he’d pinned on your corsage at prom when he slides on your ring.

You don’t seem to mind, giving him that big open smile that he’ll spend the rest of his life chasing.

#min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #yoongi imagine #bangtanheadquarters #btsbookclub #ksmutclub #btscreatorscorner #wc: 7k #alcohol tw

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pillowfluffs · 4 years

Text

A Bit of Jealousy | Im Changkyun

Pairing: Changkyun X Reader (female)

Genre: fluff, angst

Request: “hi! I saw that your requests are open, may I request an angsty yet fluffy thing with changkyun? like... you both are engaged but you wanted to make an special surprise for their anniversary, but he thinks she's cheating? 👀👀👀 if it's a little complicated, you don't have to do it. thanks in advance!” -anon

Author’s Note: dw anonnie, I didn’t ignore your request 😤I got into writing it so it took be a bit, and it took be even longer since dialogue messes with me a bit, but hopefully this wasn’t too long of a wait for you 🥺 Thank you for requesting!! I hope you all enjoy!

He surrounded himself with the low basses of the new song he was stuck on, immersing himself with the music he had made so far yet there were no lyrics to go with it. He leaned back in his chair for the nth time with a sigh, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands. How did this happen? The world around him, the world he knew, thought he knew, felt who distorted. He felt empty and he could tell it was already getting to him. Within his own creating process, he usually did these two parts hand in hand: playing with synthesizers, producing various beats, different rhythms and the lyrics would flood his mind like a plague. It felt like the gears in his mind would turn faster and faster, soaring higher into the sky on his little cloud Lyrics would flow through his head like a river after a storm. But nothing came. The world felt like it was crumbling beneath his feet as he sat in his chair, the lights in his studio dimmed down with only his monitors and equipment being his only source of distraction.

He felt drained when he did only a small fraction of what he usually did and he knew why. You. He rubbed the shiny ring around his ring finger out of habit whenever he was deep in thought or just missing you. He loved you, yes. You were his bride to be, yes. Though, the thought of you after what he saw today made a fire burn inside of him. He hated how deep the pit inside of him was. No matter how many times he thought it over, the pit grew a little bit deeper with no resolution. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, resting his forehead in his folded hands as he went through the day in his mind, once again.

The bedroom was filled with a haze that felt like pure home. The aura in the room would make the two of you feel truly at home and nothing could replace it. The room was still with slumber, the bed sheets wrinkled from how much the two of you turned in bed. It was a bit messy but it was cozy and it was home. The room was spacious for the two of you with simple white walls, gray curtains, and a fuzzy carpet.

Feeling your mind come alive, one thought appeared after the other like flowers blooming after seeing the sun after a spell of time, you woke to the soft touch of Changkyun’s arms wrapped loosely around your waist, his low breaths tickling your ear. His body was warm feeling his chest pressed against your back. Your lips naturally curled upward as you turned in his arms, resting half of your body on his, your chin meeting his arm with your leg rubbed against his. He looked so comfortable whenever he slept which made you want to go back to sleep most of the time. You cupped his face in your hand, your eyes unable to leave his features- the face, the person, the soul you fell in love with a few years ago. Your ring glistened in the faint sunlight that shone through the curtains, the precious gem sparkling into your eyes, the thing you that told you you were really his and a similar thing on his finger, signifying he was really yours. His skin was smooth under your thumb as you lightly grazed his cheek, making a curve line by rubbing your thumb side to side. Your brought your face closer to his, taking his face with your other hand, unable to get enough of the love of your life.

He suddenly brought your hands up, bringing them around yours. He caught your hands in his, the one he grew to love the more he held them, the longer he held them. They fit so well in his hands like puzzle pieces.

“Good morning, to you too,” his voice was deep and rich, making your heart flutter in his chest as he brought your hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to them. “You’re up early,” he spoke, tucking a strand of hair behind you ear. He wrapped his leg around yours beneath the cover. The two of you were tangled with each other on the bed, almost always, taking in the feeling of having you in his arms and his skin on yours. It was a feeling he basked in, never getting tired of being around you or your touch on his skin, in his body.

“I did go to sleep earlier than you,” you said, which was true. By the time Changkyun returned from the studio, you were fast asleep. It wasn’t his fault he had to stay so late, though. A comeback for the group was approaching, a couple weeks away and as they gained popularity, they had to top the last comeback. They had their own flavor when it came to their music, the sound of their songs, the way they moved to the music, how they looked, everything- they had their own flavor when it came to what they did and they made sure everyone never forgot the taste they created. But making this taste took time, sacrifice, things like experiences that you sometimes may never get back, but meeting you, Changkyun didn’t care about how many experiences he missed out on if it meant a different one with you by his side for the rest of his life.

“How about you, then? You were at the studio all day. I didn’t even get to see you,” you pouted just a little, teasing him. After being together for awhile now, you adapted to his lifestyle since it was distinctly different. He called and texted whenever he could but he buried himself away in his cave of a studio with Jooheon and other producers when it was time to create.

“Well, I felt my beautiful fiancé awake so I just had to wake up to see her beautiful face,” his voice quiet as he leaned his head your closer, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. “But I’m all yours today. We can do whatever you want.”

The two of you eventually slid out of bed, stepping into the bathroom. The two of you were best friends, lovers, and now each other’s fiancé. You two were glued hip and hip in the bathroom as the two of you brushed your teeth, jamming to the music that played on his phone. He occasionally leaned over and bumped his hip to yours to the beat of the music, his eyes unable to leave your reflection in the mirror. He’d already seen all of you that he could but the feelings, the butterflies that fluttered in his chest always felt new.

Throughout the house, the walls were decorated with pictures of you and him, some taken with friends and the walls always having enough space for future memories to be made and experienced. It wasn’t the biggest house, wasn’t the smallest either, but it was home where he could be who he was with you beside him. He prepared breakfast downstairs as you got dressed and he stayed in his pajamas, which was really just his bare upper body while he wore sweats but you didn’t mind at all- it just meant you had two meals to savor. The kitchen was filled with a sweet aroma as he made waffle after waffle, pouring syrup over his own stack and added the toppings you liked for your own stack. His raspy voice sang along to the songs that played on his phone, in his own little world. He didn’t even hear your steps over the cool tiled floor, only noticing you when you snaked your hands around him from behind, resting your head on his back between his shoulder blades.

You sung along to the other part of the song that happened to be playing, this time it was your turn to rock side by side with him. He smiled widely, feeling himself melt when your voice matched so well with the music. He could listen to you sing endlessly but whenever he tried to get you to sing with him, you shied away. It was such a prize for him whenever you sang. He soaked up the way your voice reverberated off the walls, your voice matching the original singer’s voice with little effort. He couldn’t contain the smile that spread on his face, his dimples caved in on his cheeks, the way you peppered kisses on his shoulder blade, the way your featherlike touch tickled his shoulder as you traced over his tattoos. God he was so sexy in your eyes and for him, he couldn’t get enough of you.

He took your hands in his once again and turned in your grasp, meeting your face. You wore a simple, casual shirt with sweatpants, your hair messily tied up but he never cared. What you wore or how you looked never hindered his feelings for you. You didn’t have to doll up your face, caking makeup over it to hide your natural skin tone, “blemishes” according to society which were deemed to be imperfect but you looked so human to him. You looked so natural and raw compared to others today. You were you. Your voices filled the kitchen as he began to sing with you, singing horribly off key to make you laugh, which worked. As the waffle cooked, he twirled you around, spinning you around all over the kitchen but also kept a close eye on it so it wouldn’t burn. The only lights in the kitchen was a single ray of sunshine that peeked in, shining onto the ground and the light over stove but it was enough. He could adore you in any lighting and never get bored as you felt the same for him. It felt like it was humanly impossible to love someone this much but here he was loving you. You made him feel vulnerable but he could feel so vividly how you felt about him, it drove him a bit crazy for him to think how infatuated he was with you.

He pulled out the chair for you, pushing it in as you sat down. With the stove fan off, the house was suddenly still and peaceful, occasionally hearing birds singing outside. It was such a perfect day for the two of you and he wanted time to slow down already before it even began. He brought over the stacks of waffles and a plate of extras he had prepared along with a tray of toppings to the side of the neatly yet also aesthetically pleasing table he had organized for the two of you to share breakfast. To be extra fancy for the hell of it, Changkyun poured two glasses of orange juice in tall wine glasses.

“Happy anniversary.” He raised his glass before the two of you could begin eating.

“Happy anniversary, Kyunnie.” You brought your glass to his with a clink. You stood up and brought your lips to his for a sweet kiss before he could take a sip, feeling the smile spread on his lips as he thought about what he must’ve done in his past life to have you in his life. Today marked the day the two of you got together as a couple four years ago.

Pacing around his studio, Changkyun was restless. He couldn’t keep himself still when his mind accelerated. The place he felt like he could escape to only comforted him a little. How did the day that was meant to be spent celebrating the day the two of you got together end up like this? He could only imagine what his phone must’ve been going through but he tossed that thought to the side, the urge to check his phone away. He discarded the device to his couch when he came to the studio, locking himself in. Did he really mean anything to you? He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t believe what you did today, what he saw today. He tried to drown himself in the music, failing to do so as he resurfaced again and again, his mind resurfacing to you.

“I can go with you,” he said, standing from his spot at his desk, his personal little studio at home and leaned in the doorway to his little office.

“No, really Kyun. I think it’ll be faster if I just go alone,” you insisted, a bit rushed as you slipped into your shoes. “Ah, I really have to go. I’ll see you later today,” you said as you checked your phone, barely sparing him a glance as you spoke. You rushed the kiss you left on his cheek, your eyes still glued to your phone. He could see how your lips twitched as you tried to hide a smile, only letting it show when you were halfway out the door, rushing away. What was going on?

Changkyun usually went with the flow of things but with you, with the way you were acting just now, he couldn’t help but let suspicion percolate in his body. It was unnatural of you. And it really said something since he trusted you with his life. He anticipated today to spend time together, enjoying each other on your guys’ special day. No big gifts or surprises or anything but you left him alone without telling him anything, leaving him in the dark.

Out of instinct and curiosity spiked with suspicion, he quickly got dressed into something casual, jeans, a t-shirt, and a hooded jacket, and headed out. He made his way toward the street shopping center that was only a couple blocks away from your house. The roads were purposefully closed for only pedestrians and shoppers and on the long street, there were multiple shopping stores and people packed this area at night, especially during summer when multitudes of vendors opened, selling delicious foods and offered many games, bargaining with tourists and locals. With a quick jog, he realized two things: first, you weren’t a fast walker since he was able to see you walk into a cafe after successfully catching up, spotting you out of pure luck and second, he really needed to hit the gym again. The way he was struggling to catch his breath after a five minute jog from the house blew his mind as he panted clutching his chest in exaggeration. He panted and stepped into the store across the street of the cafe. It was a little store but filled with stationery. Many young adults filled the shop as they did their own things, making the perfect curtain for Changkyun to see you. From here, he pretended to shop while having a clear way to see you in the cafe. The area was somewhat busy since it was still early but it surprised him how many places were open already and people were already shopping. However, he used this to his advantage so he could easily hide and blend in if you were to ever see him.

When he saw you sit by yourself at the cafe, eyes again glued to your phone, he suddenly felt a wave of reality wash over him. He began to smile, laughing at himself for coming all the way here, mentally slapping himself for even letting his mind stray to doubting you as the first thing when you acted strange. You sat with your own drink but he still wondered why you didn’t just tell him- he would’ve been fine bringing you here himself or even getting some to bring back. But before he left, he stood still when he saw you suddenly look at someone, standing from your seat to give them a hug. Suddenly, everyone around him went silent, the store he stood in went quiet but in reality, it was just his world that went mute. He felt himself freeze in place as he looked across the empty street to the cafe, seeing you smile fondly with Hyungwon, leaving with him. Why were you with Hyungwon of all people? Why didn’t you tell him you were with a member of his group? Why were you with Hyungwon? On your anniversary of all days as well.

In search of a clear answer, he continued to follow the two of you from a safe distance, always going into the store across the street or wherever he could across the street, keeping a close eye on the two of you. Questions kept appearing in his mind the longer he followed the two you going deeper into the street, shopping for a longer time in multiple stores together, very close side by side. You led him from store to store, the conversation never seeming to end between the two of you. The clothes store, jewelry store, grocery store, etc. Why were you with Hyungwon? It was this question he kept asking himself but couldn’t think of a reason as to why. You held up shirts and sweaters, smiling, only to put it back after you shook your head and had a brief discussion and Hyungwon looked at it, holding it up to his own body.

It felt like his spirit was being crushed to dust the longer he had to watch you smile at another man, a taller, skinnier, more handsome man that he envied knowing how many people adored him.

But he slapped himself mentally once again, harder this time. There must’ve been a clear answer and you would tell him right? You two were going to be married after all. Reaching into his pocket, he dialed your phone number, the number he called the most out of all his contacts. He watched carefully, hearing the device call yours in his ear.

You paused the conversation hearing your phone ring in your pocket. You suddenly froze a bit when you saw it was Changkyun.

“Hello?” You spoke calmly on the phone but he didn’t miss the gesture you made to pause Hyungwon’s words, the way the light around your persona dimmed just the slightest when you saw his name on your phone.

“Hey, where are you?” He asked, pretending he wasn’t hurt. Putting on the facade he was clueless, the facade that everything was okay and he didn’t feel a wound being slowly pierced into his chest.

“Kyun, I can’t talk. I’ll be home later, okay?” You evaded, giving a glance to Hyungwon as he watched you speak.

“Yeah, I know. We just planned to watch a movie… So where are you?” He could feel his facade slipping like a mask coming loose around his head.

“Where I am, right….” You repeated, sending a worried look to the tall one. He watched it all like a sick movie, ignoring the searing burn in his throat as he swallowed. “I’m helping my mom with something, sorry I have to go,” you spoke after Hyungwon mouthed something to you but the phone didn’t pick up his words.

“Oh, okay then,” he said nonchalantly. It felt like he was putting the facade on for himself than you as he said these last words. “I love you.”

“Love you too, bye,” you said, hanging up. He missed the relieved look on your faces as the two of you continued shopping. He began to walk toward the end of the block, walking around a couple more before he was at the company building where the streets were busier with traffic. This had done it. He let the facade, the mask he had on fall onto the road, crushing it to nothing as he stepped over it. The piercing wound became a tear, a tear that repeated until there was nothing but little pieces that looked like an impossible puzzle. He felt cold as the sun hid behind the clouds, the day turning gloomy, matching the way he felt. With a fast pace, he kept his hood up, fists buried in his pockets. Stepping into the cool air of the lobby, he nodded at the receptionist who politely bowed, letting him through into the building. After waiting a brief moment, he steed into the empty elevator that played variety of the songs of the various groups under the company. The ride was short but slow. He focused on the song playing, only to realize it was his group’s song, the sound of Hyungwon’s voice making him feel bitter. With a couple strides down the brightly lit hall filled with framed posters of all the groups under the company and a swift finger scan, he stepped into the one place he felt like he could let the ropes he was holding, go. Hearing the door lock behind him with a satisfying click acted like a switch for him, like a signal telling him he was concealed. He let the silence in the room consume him.

The various emotions he felt coalesced into one big mess, bundling, compressing together into a storm inside of him. With a burst of strength, he threw his phone into the cushions of the couch. The device’s flat side slapped against the firm leather cushions of the couch. He dejectedly flung himself into his chair, leaning back, letting out a heavy sigh, looking across the studio. He remembered the day you stayed up late and with him to decorate it. You helped him frame the posters from his favorite movies, help assemble his chair and push the couches and table around as he followed the wordy instructions to build his desk. Although there was only a single framed picture of the two of you on his desk, there were still parts and prints and memories of you all over his studio and he couldn’t for get it. Jealously made him sour and he hated it. He took in everything he could, every sound in an attempt to distract, pull his mind away from the jealous thoughts he had in his mind, but there was nothing. The room was sound proofed. How useful for any other time except now. He was left alone to his thoughts.

“I’m home,” you called excitedly, unknowing the house was completely empty. You hid the bag containing your anniversary gift to Changkyun behind your body in case he was in the living room, but he was nowhere to be seen. “Kyun?” You called out. “Are you here?” You asked as you laid on the first section of the steps, calling upstairs. You heard nothing but the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Sitting on the steps, the later afternoon sun shined through the skylight on the roof of the house. Pulling out your phone, you checked your messages and calls, seeing none from Changkyun. Where was he? Clicking on his contact, you called his number, pressing the cold screen of your device against your ears. Your fingers twisted around the handles of the bag containing his gift sat beside you on the stairs, hearing the call go to voicemail. You checked your messages and voicemails one more time just to be sure, but alas, you saw nothing from him.

“Hey where are you?” You texted him but the message didn’t have the usual delivered message after. Was his phone off? You didn’t know what to think since he hadn’t told you anything. You stood from the stairs and began your surprise, taking the opportunity to get ready while Changkyun was out.

Looking at the time, you were taken a bit back, not realizing you spent so long with Hyungwon today to find a gift for Changkyun. You washed your hands and tied your hair back, preparing the dishes you wanted to make for dinner which consisted of some of your favorites and his favorites. As you washed the vegetables, you couldn’t help but think about Changkyun’s whereabouts, however. You mentally slapped yourself on the wrist for not looking for his gift earlier. The two of you had known each other for four years now and to be engaged in a a couple months but you wanted to make sure it was perfect with the help of Hyungwon.

You stood home alone in the kitchen as time passed, hours rolling by one after the other. Changkyun was still not home. You even made sure to take your time with things but even when all that time passed, he still hadn’t come home. Setting the final dish down, you felt accomplished seeing the dishes you were able to make but as you sat down at the table, the silence settled down around you, the notion that you were alone and have been alone for the last couple hours unsettled you. Grabbing your phone, to your dismay, there were no messages or anything from Changkyun. Opening your messages, the message was finally delivered but unread. Where could he be?

You pressed his contact, holding the cold device on your ear only to hear it repeatedly lead you to the beep to leave a message at the end. You repeatedly sent texts to him only for none of them to be heard. Where was he? You sat alone in the kitchen, as worry slowly began to percolate inside.

“Hyungwon, do you know where Changkyun is?” You sent the message to Hyungwon, going back to trying to call him only for the cal to be disrupted by Hyungwon’s own call to you.

“He’s not home?”

“When I came home, he wasn’t here and he still hasn’t returned any of my calls or messages,” you looked to his bagged gift in the seat beside you. “He didn’t tell me anything while we were out.. did he tell you anything?” You asked, fiddling with the corner of the bag in your hand. The kitchen was filled with the aroma of the dishes you made, making your stomach growl a bit after having really eaten anything since breakfast.

“No, nothing. I’ll ask the others and let you know.”

You sat still in your seat, repeatedly trying to call him and message him, scraping your mind for even the smallest things he possible could’ve said that you missed earlier today, but alas, there was none.

Changkyun sat back, reclined in his seat, his voice low as he mindlessly hummed to the rhythm of the synthesizers and bass mixed for a sample of a song on repeat. At this point, he could recite note for note, beat for beat because of how many times it played, doing its best to drone out thoughts in his mind. But it wasn’t mainly the thoughts that made him feel this burn inside him, no, it was his emotions, the notion that you could’ve been with anyone else in the world and today was proof enough- it was jealousy.

The lights in the room were off, leaving the ones behind his monitors on his desk that changed colors, from one gradient to another. His eyes felt tired after staring at the colors as they glistened on the wall and glass displays beside his desk but it was only his eyes. Then, the office phone the company used on his desk rang, the red light flashing. For the first time in hours, Changkyun paused the music, hearing the sudden silence crash into his ears like when someone jumps into water and then the water suddenly surrounds you.

“Hello?” He asked monotonously.

“Changkyun? You’ve been at the studio this entire time? Have you seen your phone?” The familiar voice of one of his members sounded in his ears. He subconsciously clenched his jaw but felt immediately inferior to the older member. Of course you chose Hyungwon. A lot of people did, and it cracked his heart.

“Shouldn’t you be comforting Y/N?” He spit back, a subtle kick in his words.

“Why would I be with Y/N? It’s your guys’ anniversary.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause by the looks of today, it seemed more like your guys’” he practically scoffed at his words, the feeling of betrayal flooding in as he now spoke with Hyungwon. Still sitting in the dark, the colors changed over his face, the lights still following their pattern.

“You saw us- Go home, Changkyun. Answer your cellphone.” Hyungwon demanded, the pieces for him coming together.

“Why should I listen to you?” Changkyun gripped he phone, contemplating on hanging up, leaving him cut off.

“Just go home. It’s all a misunderstanding but you need to hear it from Y/N,” his voice desperate.

He held the phone, hesitant to say or do anything, but alas, he did as Hyungwon told and hung up. He grabbed his phone off the couch, seeing the tens of messages and calls you left him, though only a few voicemails he listened to. They were all filled with your frantic voice that you just wanted him to come home and to call you back. He could feel a ripple of guilt that began to grow as he walked faster to the point he was jogging home. The fastest way would be through the mall he found you and Hyungwon walking through, but like almost always, it was filled with people as they filled the streets, buying foods and shopping from the numerous vendors. Bodies were pressed through the brightly lit street as people waddled their way through the crowd, trying to buy or see or eat more, making it difficult for Changkyun to get home to you.

You sniffled to yourself, now seated in the living room of your home where he sat earlier today, holding one of his pillows in your arms in the quiet living room with a single lamp on for light. You admired how your ring sparkled in the low light, wishing he would come back soon. Your fingers circled around the wrinkly, worn soft fabric of the case, leaning into the warmth you emitted into the fabric.

He moved as fast as he could through the crowd, maneuvering over the masses of bodies around. He squeezed around, going around others as fast as he could through the mall. The entire area’s atmosphere was filled with a foggy smoke from all the hot foods being sold by the vendors. The smells wafted into his nose as he passed, his stomach grumbling with hunger. He didn’t even realize he had spent the bulk of the day at the studio today without eating anything since breakfast. He finally broke free from the crowd and toward the clear sidewalks of the neighborhoods. The night sky was clear and there were just barely traces of light pink and dark purples far off in the distant horizon, the breeze blowing through his clothes and hair as it bounced with every step as he jogged.

By the time he got to the end of your block, he panted once again as he did earlier, the thought of hitting the gym resurfacing. Standing in front of the house beneath the starry night sky, he was surrounded by the chirps of crickets and the sound of his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Catching his final breaths, he approached the front door. With a cool breeze blowing by and he sound of his keys jingling in his hand on the knob, the door opened to the dimly lit house, the first thing he saw was the lamp in the corner. But then he saw you. You jolted up in your seat as he stepped in, releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in as he pushed off his shoes to the side but stopped when he was out, not even realizing what to do with himself now that he was here. He was speechless.

“Kyun,” your voice wavered slightly as you stood, the blanket that was draped over your legs slid off to the ground, pooling at your ankles. “What you saw today, there’s nothing between Hyungwon and I.” You were suddenly before him in a couple of strides. He could see your worn eyes despite having not shed a single tear- not yet at least.

“Then what was it?” He asked, a part of him wanting to infuse venom into his words but another part silencing himself from doing so. The word “misunderstanding” in Hyungwon’s voice sounded in his head.

“It was this,” you said as you stepped into the kitchen, the cold tiles at the bottom of your feet as you snatched his gift in the bag, bringing it back to him. “I know we promised to not do any gifts, I couldn’t help myself but by the time I finally decided to get something, I realized I couldn’t think of anything to get you that would feel perfect enough for you,” you stammered over your words as they came out, feeling like the foundation you built yourself emotionally was crumbling around the edges. “I asked Hyungwon to help me and I hate that I couldn’t make a decision earlier so I could’ve spent all day with you.” You could feel a single tear cascade down your cheek leaving a wet trail over your dry skin. You swallowed over a lump that formed as you spoke, your eyes fell to his hands holding the bag, unable to bring yourself up to see his. You felt ashamed and embarrassed at the same time- ashamed you couldn’t be decisive sooner and embarrassed you couldn’t even look in your own fiancé’s eyes.

Changkyun stood speechless, not able to move his body a single inch. It felt like a cool sensation dropped down his stomach, raising goosebumps all over his body. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, not knowing what he could possibly say, no- he didn’t know where to start.

“I’m so dumb, I should’ve just got-“

“The only dumb person in this house is me,” he cut you off quietly as he embraced you into his arms with the rustling sound of the bag swinging in his hand, catching you off guard. “I let my emotions get the best of me and I should’ve just trusted you. I- I-“ he sighed, not knowing how to continue. “My mind assumed the worst when I saw the two of you two in the mall today. I should’ve just stayed home, answered my phone at least,” he spoke, his arms not letting up. “I’m sorry,” he brought his hand to hold the back of your head, fingers combing through your hair when you accepted his embrace, taking him into your own. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Could you forgive me?” He held your shoulders, breaking away from the hug.

“Of course, Kyun. You’re my fiancé after all.” You took his face in your hands, bringing your lips to his as his hands rested on your hips. “I love you,” you mumbled against his plump lips, his touch never leaving you.

“I love you too, and happy anniversary.” He dipped you backwards a bit, holding your back firmly before he brought his lips back to yours.

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more!

#monsta x #monsta x imagines #monsta x scenarios #monsta x x reader #im #changkyun #changkyun imagines #changkyun scenarios #changkyun x reader #pillowfluffs #im changkyun #im changkyun x reader #im changkyun imagines #im changkyun scenarios

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insipidenvy · 3 years

Note

Yo I really like your fics! They’re so good ❤️❤️ I was wondering if you have any recommendations for other HanaNene fics?

Awawawa-- Thank you?! I haven’t been feeling really confident in my writing recently, so seeing this ask really lifts my mood!

Oh boy, HanaNene fic recs? These are probably going to overlap with a lot of other wonderful writers and you’ve most likely read these, but:

Supernatural Stakeout at the Kamome Science Museum! by thatsrightdollface (@thatsrightdollface)

If you love introspection, a slice of life AU, and mystery, this fic is for you! It’s a wonderful story set in a museum, the relationship between Amane and Nene is wonderfully developed!

for real, this time by sourlemoncandy (@sour-lemon-candy)

Fake Dating AU! With Peach’s writing, it’s such a cute fic. The pining and misunderstanding? A great cliffhanger! As of answering this ask, it is in progress, but it’s definitely worth reading!

Like Glass, You Shatter by SapphiraLua

When the angst has gone too far, we need some fluff. And when we want some fluff, we want Hanako and Nene to finally get together. This story is just so sweet, it’s the confession we wish would just happen in canon already.

Haunted Carnival by Sharkbytez ( @shxrkbytez)

A short and adorable Spooktober fic! It’s very cute, a fluffy way to celebrate Halloween. Please give this a read, it’ll be well worth it!

now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white by Soqquadro (@non-writingwriter)

One of the first stories I read on ao3, it’s a canon compliant Hanahaki AU. The writing is wonderful, definitely give this a read!

long after you're gone by dearmoonlight

Again, one of the first stories I read when I got into the fandom, but what an impact it made on me! A reincarnation AU, found family, everything ends up alright in the end, this fic made me think, ‘I wouldn’t mind if this is how things end.’ Mind the warning in the beginning, however.

Red String of Fate by Legend_of_cupcake (@legend-of-cupcake)

Every chapter in this fic is amazing! it covers so many emotions and genres, each unique yet relatable in many ways.

but i knew you — your heartbeat on a highline, once in twenty lifetimes and 'Cause I Remember the Rush, When Forever Was Us by sincerelyand (@sunlightinourheadlights)

I will never forgive Karen for making me cry. Just kidding. But her writing is superb, you’re a changed person after reading her stories.

Headache Over Heels In Love and Shared Wishes by corologs (@corologs)

Courtney’s fics are all wonderful, her College AU always brightens my days! Shared Wishes covers a serious topic, but it’s something I think you should give a shot if you’re comfortable with the topic. Heed the tags.

From Eden and Take My Breath Away by Hammsters (@uglierdaikon)

All I can say is that you’ll have a wonderful time with these stories. Erin’s writing is something I wish I could achieve, it’s amazing how much emotion you can weave into every action and detail. From Eden had a mystical and mysterious feel, and Take My Breath Away was haunting. It brought me back to my childhood where I’d believe in superstitions. Creepy Hanako Agenda Queen (and Lemon Cult Leader).

Bind Me Tight To You and The Flavors of Friendship (or How to Become the Mokke Queen in Five Easy Steps) by Baronesscmd (SweeterThanYourDarkestSin) (@baronesscmd)

These are among my favorite from Cat! Bind Me Tight To You is another reincarnation AU, but you can observe how Tuschigomori and even Yako think of the reincarnated kids. And The Flavors of Friendship (or How to Become the Mokke Queen in Five Easy Steps) is just so cute!

whoever made your smile must’ve made it to get in my way by krispytine (@krispyt)

A bit on the angsty side, Hanako is a grim reaper in charge of leading a terminally ill Nene to her death but he’s not so willing to do so. The moments they have together are so sweet and poignant, definitely check this out!

Still Lake, Wrought Iron and The Tiniest Spark by Indigo_Floof (@indigosienna)

Both stories, I think, capture the same emotion, even if the plot is very different. There’s something about the awe Hanako holds for Nene in Still Lake, Wrought Iron that’s intriguing. The Tiniest Spark is a story where Nene is able to protect Hanako like she vowed to do in canon; a soft story.

Implicit by DaikonSenpai (@daikonsenpai)

One of the few AU fics she has, I love how in character and natural the story is. Amane being a flustered boy will never not make me smile.

12 Year Romance by lilaflo (@istoleyourboat)

One of my favorites from Roxanne! I think she did an excellent job capturing the troubles of getting someone to recognize your feelings when there’s an age gap between you. It’s so heartwarming to see Nene and Amane’s relationship grow and develop as the years pass. Definitely check it out!

Scale for a Wish by starrylitme (@magioftheseas)

Nene and Hanako’s dynamic are on point and such a joy to read in this fic! Nene in particular, is so in character, it feels like she and Hanako had been gently tossed from canon into this new setting.

Morning Reflections by FalalalaLa (@miss-sternennacht)

The first story I read from Sora, it’s such a soft fic. Domestic AmaNene that’s enough to soothe the ache of canon. If you love domestic fluff, I implore you to check this out!

Caveat Lector and A Bird in the Hand by WingSongHalo (@wingsonghalo)

I’ve yet to finish reading all of Wing’s fics, but from the ones I read, I’ll just be frank: I love every single one of them, choosing my favorites was very hard! These two in particular are very sweet. Wing does quite a bit of research for each of her fics and it’s very obvious she cares for what she writes. Give these two a read, they’re wonderful stories.

I hope these helped you a bit! I listed a few fics from these writers, but I definitely suggest you read all of their fics. They’re wonderful writers with fantastic stories out there.

#rukaanswers

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yanderecandystore · 3 years

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Let's turn this around how would you be as a yandere how would you treat us your darling

TW/Tags: Sheep went full roleplay mode lol- (I'm not even that into roleplay!! I'm a shy bean-) // the fourth wall has been destroyed in the making of this- // references, references everywhere // shopkeeper x customer dynamic // just a silly thing I wrote thinking it would be fun lol, thanks for requesting this boo // crack thingy (just a joke lol-)

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Shopkeeper [Yandere Š̴̨̛̬̫͚̘͕͚̣̣̈̃̅̀̿̉̓̊̅͂̈́̓̒͛̿͋̑̈͆́̅̎̾̇̆͆̈͒̾̈́̀̓̂́̀̊̐͗̿̈́̄̅̇̊͆̔̌̊͐̇̔̇͒̋̌͗̚̕͠͝͠͝h̷̛̥̼̟̤̦͖̞̖̜̯͔͋̂̊̐̄̈́̒̇͑̒̐̊͊̅͌̇͐͌̈́̋̈́͐̐͑͋̋̓́̈̀̈́̒̀͒̽̂̈́̃͑̂͑̉̉͆͘̚̚͝ȩ̵̨̛̩͈̹͕̲̻̍͋̏͗͐͐̌͐̓̈́̊̈́̆̐̊͌̃͐̑̑̉̉̋͂͛̅̉̌͂̃̑̑̈́̊̎̚̚͜͠ę̷̧̡̧̧̨̤̠̗̰͓͖͇͙̞̻͔̼̮̟̹͕̬̰̯͈̣̰̹͎̱̦̹̥͕͉̻͚̟̼̬̗̹̦̲͔̗̞̯̻͓̹̹͚̣͍̞̱̪̲̮̖̥̈́̽̓̐̊̓̈́̋̈̎͘̕͝ͅͅṕ̴̢̡̨̻̙͔̦͖̬̭̲̞̗̻̣̗̮͚̺̱̟̘̻̟͓̹̹̟͚͉̣̩̠̥̗̘͙̘̹̙̥͕͒̂̏͆͗̉̃̓̎͊͊̋̊͌̆́̒̅̐̒̀͒̀̏͐̃̓̉̑͑̈́̑̈̒̿̿́̉̾͂̅̑̀̊͛̉̈́͗̍͋͛̍̊̒̄̀̚͘̕̚͘͝͠͝͝ͅͅͅ x Reader - A general scenario if you will :)]:

Well aren't you a cheeky little thing. Me, playing the role of the wolf instead of the sheep? The irony!

I always appreciate a interesting request like yours, sweetheart, yet I don't think this ride will be comfortable- for you at least-

How can you be so sure that I don't love every single one of you already? Aren't I the one responsible for the pastry sweets you consume inside the store?

The infinity of concepts being brought in and delivered back are all caused by you. Their obsession, their behavior, their stories are all designed with you in mind dearest- To each and every single one of you.

Although, I guess I'm not the convenient type of shopkeeper, right? My creations tend to go lose and create so much misfortune for you.

The same misfortune you come day after day to taste more of. Isn't it intoxicatingly sweet?

But even so, I can promise you I mean no harm. My only job is to deliver what you want, and give you new tastes you probably weren't aware that existed- Or maybe, flavours that you have been craving for yet are so scarce and far in between, that you can't help but search for more, right?

The hint of love mixed in so much misery, the electrifying feeling of kissing a artificial intelligence, the taste of revenge from so many years of bullying, the taste of freedom that can only come from rebellious nature, loving embrace of a caring mentor-

All these flavours you have learned to love ever since you found yourself inside the candy shop. May I ask you, darling, have you ever managed to find your way out?

Don't get me wrong dearest I love spending time with you, I'm just concerned that maybe you'll start to forget the passage of time while eating all this sugar. I'm still really glad you appreciate my treats so much!

I may not be… What you were expecting, you know? A stalker, a killer, a delusional dreamer, a sadist, a masochist, or even a truly lovesick type of person as you were probably hoping for.

What can I say, I guess I'm just not the loving type, yet may I warn you that even if I don't fit in the original definition, there are a bunch of ways one can be… Uhn, possessive, or overprotective, not always related to the romantic type of love.

You know the drill, the platonic love, the familial love, the unconditional love, you know about all the different ways one can be obsessed with you, right? Even if you didn't taste it from my own candy store, I'm very aware of the hundreds of flavors you managed to get by visiting others that also enjoy the creation of such things.

Can't blame you though, it's hard to not be interesting in such a variety of flavors and concepts brought by the hands of another creator. May I even say, I'm jealous of most of the creations I got the chance to taste around these parts, so many creative people doing what they love the most- Entertaining your audience and presenting new dishes to the menu- Writing to cope with the outside world being so cruel and unforgiving.

Hmm… I still don't forgive you for going to other people's businesses and leaving me alone though. What? Aren't you my last precious client? Hmm? It's not my fault, I get jelly sometimes~

Well, as I was saying- Although I don't fit in the original definition, I could say that my type of feelings for you are, hmm, probably would be best defined as the overprotective shopkeeper. You're my customer, and I may provide you with the best quality of goods I can give you-

While also providing you with the right amount of safety. You know how it is, right sweetie? You have seen them in action time and time again, sometimes I'm not powerful enough to put them in their places.

You remember the big ones? The ones with the white mask over their faces? Well dearest, those are probably the hardest to get a grip on! So unpredictable, and don't get me started on how they always play mind games to get what they want.

But even if a being as powerful as them threatens your safety, I can guarantee you that as long as you're inside the candy store and by my side, they may never cause harm to you.

Now, since you've been here hearing me monologue for so long, how about I give you one sugary treat just because? Don't worry, I think you already noticed how all of them are for free.

Now tell me, which is the flavour you're seeking for today? Are you wanting something soft and sweet? Maybe a little sour and angsty-

Or maybe you want to spice things up to the next level- Just tell me your thoughts and your main ingredient for it!

Cherry, apple, lemon, melon- Hell! Why stick with the main ingredients if we can always come up with more??

There are so many possibilities out there, that are making my mouth water, don't you agree?

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#sheep's stuff #yandere #a sweetheart asked:#yandere x reader #yandere sheep #👀👀👀#this actually helped me feel better lol #i had a fun time writing this

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cactusspatz · 4 years

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November recs

Allllll various flavors of DCU this month - I went on a serious binge.

BATFAMILY/GEN

feel the love that radiates (all will be well) by Mx_Carter

A good night in Gotham, circa 4 am.

Lovely set of snapshots of the Batfamily having a good night, with brief but vivid characterization.

Liminal Space by CalamityJim

Bruce's habit of collecting strays is not limited by dimension.

Or: When Young Justice Batman comes across an angsty, seemingly abandoned by his Batman Tim Drake, he decides to step up to the plate and parent the crap out of him.

Extremely satisfying for my love of ‘let’s make Tim sad and lonely’ and competence kink both. The summary sounds glib but the story digs in on the angst and fallout and fix-it aspects very well. (there’s a WIP sequel that I have not read and cannot vouch for, so caveat lector)

Minimum Height Requirement by Drag0nst0rm

Somewhere in the multiverse, there's a universe where letting his children dress up in capes and follow him into vigilantism seems like a good idea. Bruce is determined that it isn't going to be this one . . . Despite his children's repeated attempts to convince him otherwise.

(Or: "When you're eighteen, you can do what you want. Until then, no capes.")

I love how this story approaches the setup - because although Bruce setting sane vigilantism boundaries is warm and fuzzy and good, Gotham is still Gotham and bad shit still happens. I enjoy having both. :)

Continuing Education by @chibinightowl

Jason is studying for his GED. It's not as easy as he thought it would be.

Oh, the Jason writing in this one is fabulous. Sweet story, good Batfamily action, and a fun OFC.

SLASH

Kings Among Runaways by @iesika and glymr (Tim/Jason)

The AU where Tim ran away from home at the tender age of mumbledyteen, and Jason got let off with a warning, the night he met Batman.

In which Tim and Jason are street kids together, eventually fall in love (so, warning for underage, but it’s handled well), and of course run into Batman again. I read most of this a million years ago on LJ, and it was great seeing it again on AO3 in its completed, linear form.

The Long Hangover by @coffiocake (Bruce/Clark)

Clark knows he should take a break: His powers are on the fritz, he feels like shit, and Batman’s treating him like a liability. But Gotham's villains seem to have it in for Metropolis' Big Blue Boy Scout and Clark won't just wait around for answers. Batman might be the world’s greatest detective, but Clark Kent is one of the Daily Planet’s most tenacious reporters.

This is definitely a job for Superman.

Identity porn! Superheroing despite superpower issues! A clever plot involving kryptonite! Clark being smart and snarky and a good reporter! So many things I love!

And finally, this is cheating, but go read literally all of @fabula-unica/FabulaRasa’s Bruce/Hal Jordan fics, which I binge-read in a contented haze over like two weeks but failed to comment on due to brainweasels. She does a wonderful job of writing them as the complicated, flawed, beautiful assholes that they are, and jfc can this lady write both h/c AND smut. I was especially fond of:

Paying the Price (and sequel): Hal goes to Bruce when someone from his past blackmails him, and things get very complicated and whumpy.

Remembering Normal: I always like A/B/O AUs that explore what being queer would look like in that context, and this is an excellent take. Also, HOT.

Cold Comfort (and sequels): classic hypothermia h/c tropefic, done well, but I also adore the backstory work and the fallout.

Hal Jordan Has A Plan: a dual pairing story of Clark/Barry (who are very sweet fuckups) and Hal/Bruce (who are just fucked-up fuckups); I really liked how the two relationships played off each other structurally, even though they’re very different in tone.

Aliens Made Us Do It: extremely enjoyable combo of ‘accidental alien marriage’ and some creative long-distance h/c and Bruce realizing he has feelings wayyyy too late to stop himself.

Best Sex of His Life: sadly the original Tumblr smutlet that inspired this has disappeared just in the last few weeks since I bookmarked, but there’s plenty of hot sex and some pining to make up for that.

Another caveat lector - Fabula does NOT warn AT ALL on her stories, but definitely deals with heavy/triggering content in a lot of them. Even I, BOFQ that I am, slammed into a few squicks much harder than I liked. If any of ya’ll are interested but need/want some warnings, drop me a line and I’ll help out.

#dcu #batman #batfamily #jason/tim #clark/bruce #batfam #bruce/hal #batlantern #fic rec #monthly recs

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callunavulgari · 5 years

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Year-In-Fic | 2018

How many fics did you write this year? What was your total wordcount? This year I wrote... 12 fics. Bit of a letdown, really, but I mean. I didn’t write much. I wrote what I did whenever a plot bunny really seized hold of me, but I didn’t go out of my way to write this year. Which is sad. But I mean, shit happens. 55,519 words, which isn’t completely terrible for 12 fics. It helps that a couple of them were in the 8-9k range.

Fic Roundup!

Everybody’s Looking For Something | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | 4,790 words | On the third weekend of May during their last year at Hawkins High, Steve Harrington throws a party.Billy crashes it.

taste you on my tongue | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | 2,290 words | “You’ve never felt pleasure like it, Steve,” an old girlfriend had told him once, her eyes bright with memory. Steve shrugged. “No vampires here, though.”

Home | Star Wars | Reylo | 1,670 words | “Rey,” he says into the quiet. “Just drive.”

hits like a drum | Stargate Atlantis | Mcshep | 3,507 words | “Believe it or not, having something with sharp teeth breathing down your neck is not actually conducive to one’s thought process.” John barks out a loud, abrupt noise that might be laughter, his breath tickling the hairs at the base of Rodney’s neck. “I’d have thought it would be good motivation.”

feed the hunger | Stranger Things | Steve/Billy | 1,792 words | “Thought you wanted to fuck me, Hargrove,” Steve whispers, and presses a sweet kiss to the hinge of Billy’s jaw. “Now’s your chance.”

Apotheosis | Marvel - INFINITY WAR | Thor/Loki, Steve/Pepper/Tony | 4,450 words | Grief, a story told in three parts.

and i’m always tired, but never of you | The Bright Sessions | Sam/Damien/Mark | 10,405 words | Sam runs into Damien at the grocery store two years later. It changes everything.

tides will bring me back to you | Kingdom Hearts | Axel/Roxas | 7,383 words | When Axel was sixteen, he did something stupid.

Smallest Light | Stranger Things | Gen, El & Will | 5,165 words | In the summer of 1986, Will’s mom marries Jim Hopper. OR, Will and El learn how to be real people again together.

i don’t want to rest in peace, we can haunt each other’s dreams | EOS 10 | Ryan/Akmazian | 1,520 words | In the dream, Ryan wakes up and Akmazian is there.

Looking For Atlantis | SGA | Mcshep | 4,632 words | Hey Rodney, the postcard reads. Go see a movie.

keep your heart open (i’ll keep mine open too) | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 7,915 words | “Did you even like me before you found out I was your soulmate?” Billy murmurs as he kisses a line down Steve’s throat.

Best story I wrote this year: and i’m always tired, but never of you. It was that one fic that I wrote because I just couldn’t stand the idea of Mark, Sam, and Damien not having a happy ending. Because I realized there was no poly fic for them on ao3 and I thought that was a travesty. So I wrote 10k in like two days and it’s soft and sweet and the happy ending that I wanted to see, so I freaking wrote it.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest. Honestly? Home. It’s only 1600 words, and it’s Reylo, which I wasn’t even feeling that much this year, but it’s just the story that I set out to write. The night that I wrote it I’d had the shittiest day at work and came home wanting to write about someone being angry and sad and driving really fast. Originally I think I’d been planning on the story being Harringrove, but modern day Skywalkers just kind of spilled out of me.

Okay, NOW your most popular story. feed the hunger, my harringrove fic that I wanted to write the entire time I was in South Carolina, where Steve is a little bit messy and he and Billy fuck around for a bit and catch feelings comes in first with 339 kudos and 2731 hits, but taste you on my tongue, my harringrove vampire au technically beats it in the bookmarks department. Story of mine most underappreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Yeah, probably Home. I’m always a little bummed when the stories that I like the most don’t get much attention, but well, I mean. It’s a modern day Reylo fic that I wrote a while after The Last Jedi craze settled down, so it’s whatever.

Most fun story to write: Definitely and i’m always tired, but never of you. It was so much fun to write and was so freaking easy too. Every line flowed smoothly. Even the editing didn’t trip me up much.

Story that could have been better? hits like a drum was the wraith!John AU that I had such a hard time with last year. It was supposed to be at least another 5 or 6k and feature John coming to Rodney’s rescue and becoming slowly integrated into Atlantis. It was supposed to work it’s way into something smart and plotty, and yes, eventually Rodney would have gotten to smooch the wraith. But I hit a snag and never really recovered, so I just cleaned it up and posted it as is.

Story I wrote to fix things: Technically Apotheosis, and i’m always tired, but never of you, and i don’t want to rest in peace, we can haunt each other’s dreams were all written as fix-it fics in their own way. Apotheosis was my way of dealing with Infinity War and featured Thor, Steve, and Tony dreaming about people they lost. Bright Sessions domestic poly fic was written because I wanted Damien to have some semblance of happy ending, preferably with Mark, and that last one with the super long title was written because I was trying to cope with EOS 10. Technically it wasn’t a fix-it because nothing was really fixed, but it helped fix me.

Longest completed fic this year: and i’m always tired, but never of you. Just over 10k, it’s definitely my longest this year.

Fandom you enjoyed writing for most this year: I wrote a decent chunk of Stranger Things this year and had fun with all of them, but I still think the most fun I had was with the Bright Sessions fic.

Favorite character you wrote this year: I actually really liked writing Will and El in Smallest Light. I got kind of stuck halfway into that fic, so it wasn’t always the smoothest, but Will and El were both very strange and good to write.

Most memorable comment this year: So, keep your heart open (i’ll keep mine open too) was my entry for the harringrove secret santa and I recently got a comment from my giftee that was just, the best thing to wake up to ever. I haven’t gotten the chance to reply yet, mostly because I have been ridiculously busy, but it was such a long, thorough comment and I’m just so glad they appreciated it.

Additionally, the same fic also produced a comment that started with “My Sterek bitch!!” and it just fucking tickled the hell out of me.

Fics you wanted to write but didn’t: I think I’m going to have to give up on writing the Sabriel AU. I mean, unless the Episode 9 comes out and blows me out of the water, I’m not hopeful. The Last Jedi jossed too much, even in an AU, and it made things a little complicated to move forward. I still need to finish that fic where John dies and Rodney ends up raising his daughter, and the Enjolras/Grantaire fic, and the giant Dishonored fic that I still desperately want to write. The bodyswapping Reylo, the girl Cisco AU, the Sterek Bioshock Infinite AU, the dozens of other Sterek fics that I started two or three years ago and never finished, including the Carmilla AU.

More recently, I’ve got a Castlevania OT3 fic that I’ve been working on and a different flavor of Harringrove soulmate AU that wasn’t angsty enough to be my entry for the secret santa. I have the giant canon-divergent Bright Sessions AU where years after the series ends, Mark ends up running into Damien again in a small town in the middle of nowhere only to realize that he has a daughter, a farm, a life, and is just so drawn to it that he keeps coming back. I have the Wolf 359 post-canon fic where everyone has feelings and found family is a general theme and maybe Eiffel smooches an AI. I also have the smuttier Wolf 359 fic that’s been lurking in the back of my head for months where Eiffel and Kepler er, basically eiffel tower Jacobi.

Oh, and I have the Reylo fic where Rey (and Ben, through the bond) sit through General Organa’s funeral and keep coming back to each other afterwards. And shit, I also started that Final Fantasy 15 fic where Dino and Noctis do the nasty.

Oddest story: Probably hits like a drum. I know Atlantis fics are weird, but John as a wraith is something that I hadn’t seen before. Hardest story to do: I think the only finished fic that gave me any resistance was Smallest Light, which probably wouldn’t have ever been finished if I didn’t go back and fill in the gaps with El’s part. Easiest story to write? I mean, most of these were easy. See, when you only write when you really feel the pull of something, it all comes easy. The Bright Sessions poly fic was the easiest, but all of the Harringrove ones were easy too.

Most mining of your own history in one story: Weirdly enough, tides will bring me back to you. Yeah, the story about the man-eating merman. The graffiti on the side of Axel’s building was a guy who tagged all over our neighborhood. The mermaid statue was my grandmother’s. Axel’s cat is basically my cat, but she’s been cleverly disguised because I called her gray once in the story. And like, that’s kind of it? I mean, the cove is something I came up with, but it’s heavily based on the years I spent at the beach.

Themes, or absence thereof: Atmosphere, mostly. Want. Need. Daddy issues and forever kind of loves. Soft. Where did you publish/archive your stories? Ao3, as per usual. Story I haven’t yet written, but intend to: I want to write a few things in the new year, but mostly I want to write that Dishonored fic and a couple original stories that have been percolating in my brain for a year or two.

Sexiest moment (excerpt): “Damien,” Mark breathes against his lips, and pulls back to suck a bruise into the side of Damien’s neck.

“Please,” Damien is saying, high and needy, and doesn’t know what he’s asking for, just knows that he’s desperate to have it. He slides his fingers into Mark’s hair and gives it an insistent tug, mouthing sloppily at the corner of his jaw. He spreads his thighs wider. “Please, please, please.”

“Yes,” Mark hisses, and hauls him in for a deeper kiss, yanking Damien into him until they’re so close that Damien can feel him everywhere. Mark presses against him, the weight of him settling between Damien’s spread thighs. He gives Damien a hot look and rocks their hips together. Damien makes another tiny noise, his head tilted back, mouth open. It’s probably an embarrassing sound. Mark gets his teeth on his throat, and Damien stops caring.

From very far away, he becomes aware of a door opening somewhere, but it’s so far down on his current list of priorities that he doesn’t even register why this could be a problem until he hears Sam’s voice. Damien swallows around a gasp, his glassy eyes refocusing. She’s standing about a foot or so away in the open doorway, a startled flush on her cheeks, her hair windswept. There’s a package in her arms. She arches an eyebrow in Mark’s direction.

Mark, who still hasn’t pulled away from Damien, whose teeth are still working another mark into the fragile skin at the join of his shoulder and throat. Damien swallows hard and has to close his eyes and fight down a whimper when Mark, still distracted, grinds their hips together.

“Slow, huh, Mark?” Sam asks, setting the package and her keys down on the table next to her.

Mark winces at her voice and pulls back ever so slightly, just enough to free up his mouth, not enough to drag them away from the heat of each other’s bodies. He doesn’t seem surprised enough. Doesn’t even seem to care that his girlfriend just caught them necking in her apartment. He just grins at her, helpless and a little flushed, his lips red and wet, and says, “Sorry, Sam.”

Ryan bites down on a smile, and takes another daring step forward. “Do you have standards?”

Akmazian blinks, then groans, slumping back against the desk. He looks at Ryan, and while there’s a hint of good humor, there’s also something else. Resignation, maybe. Disappointment. He laughs it off, flicking his cloak to the side, a sardonic little grin on his face, but it’s there.

“You know me, darlin’,” he says, and it sounds like a joke, but it rings true. Ryan does know him. He knows Akmazian - knows that he’s good down to the heavy muscle of his heart, knows that he’s been dealt a shitty hand in life and that he’d live that shit all over again to have the world know the truth.

Ryan knows him. Maybe that’s why he does it.

Akmazian makes a lovely, startled little noise in the back of his throat when Ryan takes both hands and draws Akmazian down to meet him, his fingers sliding into the spaces where his jaw’s gone slack. He strokes there, hesitantly, with his thumbs, and when he tugs Akmazian forward those last few inches, he is utterly sure of what he wants.

Akmazian’s lips are dry and a little chapped, but they’re plush and part easily around a groan when Ryan takes the kiss deeper, makes it a little wetter, a little more wanting. The room is quiet around them, this little echoing piece of space that is theirs alone. He can hear his own breathing, soft but steady, and Akmazian’s over that, just a little uneven. He lets out a quiet groan as his entire body relaxes into the kiss, slumping forward into Akmazian’s arms, pressing closer until they’re both half on, half off of the desk. He kisses slow and deep and a little bit sloppy, until his lips feel bruised and wet. His eyes drift closed and when Akmazian lets out a soft murmur, Ryan tips his head back to make room for Akmazian’s mouth on his throat.

He can be greedy for this, Ryan thinks as Akmazian leaves a trail of kisses up the length of his throat. He’s allowed to want this.

When he pulls back, Akmazian is looking at him with faint wonder. His hand reaches out to touch the curve of Ryan’s cheek.

“Darlin’,” he breathes, and swallows hard around the words that might have come next.

Crackiest moment (excerpt): He makes it to the last showing of Aquaman twenty minutes late, which fortunately for him means that after collecting his popcorn and slushie from the surly looking teenager manning the concession stand, he walks into the theater just as the movie is starting.

It isn’t a full theater by any means. A group college students take up a couple of the middle rows, only recognizable by their colorful array of hairstyles and the semi-permanent air of exhaustion that lingers around them like some kind of miasma. There’s an older gentlemen near the back noisily slurping a fountain drink who looks as if he hasn’t been out of the house since the 90’s. And then there’s a couple kids who look about twelve snickering and throwing popcorn at each other in the top most row.

Rodney chooses one of the first rows he sees, not necessarily because he’s enamored with the idea of being so close to the screen, but because he doesn’t want to be anywhere near the crossfire when those kids realize that there are other targets in the theater besides their friends. With a heavy sigh, he collapses onto an off-colored seat cushion that he thinks may have been mauve in a former life. The whole thing creaks alarmingly under him, and he spends a good thirty seconds arranging himself so that the arms aren’t pinching uncomfortably at his waistband.

The movie isn’t horrible, much to his surprise. It’s not great, but it’s moderately engaging, and has two relatively attractive human beings gracing the screen ninety percent of the time. It’s engaging enough that he barely notices when the twelve year olds incite a some kind of farting competition amongst themselves that a couple of the college kids decide that it’s in their best interest to escalate. He’s still half asleep in his popcorn, but staring mindlessly into a bright rectangle helps.

Maybe half an hour into the movie he notices someone slinking into the theater out of the corner of his eye, but is too invested in licking the salt and butter off of his fingers to really notice. If they want to movie hop, then whatever. Props to them. He does notice at least a little bit when they take the seat directly behind him.

Then the guy starts kicking the back of his chair.

It isn’t a constant thing. The first kick Rodney writes off as an accident. Everyone does it at some point, especially with seats as small as these. He’s probably just rearranging, and then he’ll lay off. The second and the third time? Okay, whatever. Annoying, but ultimately not worth starting something over.But the guy just keeps doing it. Every five to ten minutes, like clockwork, just as the action is starting to ramp up on screen, his knees will dig into the back of Rodney’s chair. Or his heels will scrabble against the arm rests, like he’s trying to put his feet up on Rodney’s chair. And okay, nobody has ever called Rodney patient. Nobody ever will call Rodney patient. The very idea is laughable.

He’s grinding his teeth, this close to snapping, when he hears the guy lean forward in his seat, close enough that Rodney can feel his breath on the back of his neck. The guy breathes a little loudly for a moment, and then he says, “That guy kind of looks like Ronon, don’t you think?”

Favorite dialogue (excerpt): In the dream, Loki smiles at him. They’re on Asgard, in what were once Loki’s quarters. His body reclines loosely across a chaise that he had favored, one knee hooked over the arm. As Thor watches, he stretches - a languid, rippling motion that seems to start from his toes and end in his shoulders.

“Brother,” he says in welcome, his face open and content.

“You mean to torture me,” Thor says dully, licking his chapped lips.

Loki’s face crumples, the beatific smile going dim. The sunlight coming in through the windows behind him is all Asgard, golden and warm. If he touched Loki now, he thinks he would feel an echo of that warmth, the heat of it having seeped into Loki’s shoulders and back.

At last, Loki says, “You torture yourself, Thor.”

“Only because you are not here to do it for me,” Thor replies, taking a step forward as if pulled in by some great, magnetic force.

Loki sighs, his dangling leg swinging in idle irritation. “Perhaps I am here, truly. Would it be so hard to imagine that a piece of me lives on within you?”

“No,” Thor whispers, and feels a tear drip down his cheek. “It would not. I have always held you here, in my heart.”

Loki looks at him, all the mirth gone from his face. “You cradled my body when I was gone. You pulled me close and waited for that explosion. You were to die, with me. With our people. You meant to. The last of the Aesir.”

Thor reaches the chaise, and sinks to his knees before him. Loki touches him gently, cool fingertips tracing his face from temple to jaw.

“Tell me, brother,” Loki asks him softly. “When you woke, did it pain you? Did you look for me? For my corpse?”

“Yes,” Thor tells him. He had woken disoriented, surrounded by strangers, the memory of rage lighting him up from the inside out, the ghost of Loki’s touch still against him. He’d thought of vengeance, of a burial that he would never have, and he had hurt. He’d gone chasing after death, and hoped it would take him.

He’d told the rabbit that he had nothing left to lose. It turned out that he was wrong. There was always more left to lose.He chokes on a sob, and Loki shushes him.

“You will do this, brother. I know you will.” The corners of Loki’s lips quirk upwards into an impossible smile. Perfect in its replication. “You and Stark, your Avengers. You will beat Thanos.”

Loki’s smile goes sadder, and he touches Thor the way that Thor used to touch him, a hand reaching out to clasp the hinge of Thor's jaw, thumb stroking his cheek. “You don’t know how to lose, Thor. You never did.”

“And if I can’t bring you back?”

Loki shrugs. “Then you dream of me. Whenever you think to miss me.”

Thor chokes on a watery laugh. “I will always be dreaming of you, then.”

One last touch. A kiss, light as a feather, first to his brow and then to his lips. A tear slips from Loki’s chin and lands on Thor’s cheek. Loki is still smiling, his eyes wet. “Then, I will welcome your company.”

Favorite lines (excerpt):

Damien is wearing dark jeans, and though there are holes at the knees, they seem to be of the ‘artfully distressed’ sort rather than the too-lazy-to-patch-up variety. He’s got a decent jacket hugging his shoulders, and under that, she’s pretty sure she spies a Nirvana shirt. His shaggy hair is pulled back into a half-assed bun and there’s a day or two worth of stubble clinging to his jaw, but he looks okay. Good. A little too grunge to be on this side of the millenium, and hopelessly confused by the third bag of chicken nuggets he’s picked up, but good.

She bites her lip, and considers her options.

Two years ago, she’d be hightailing it out of this grocery store as quickly as possible, packing Mark into the nearest suitcase, and skipping town to go find backup. But for some reason, she doesn’t think that Damien’s followed them here. More likely, is that they accidentally followed him here.

Before she has the chance to second-guess herself, Sam takes a deep breath and strides firmly into the aisle, shopping basket swaying at her side. She comes to a stop right beside him, and for a moment, he doesn’t seem to notice her. He’s squinting at the nutrition facts on another bag of chicken nuggets. There's ramen and a pack of energy drinks in his basket.

“Those probably aren’t great for you,” she tells him, wrinkling her nose.

“Did I ask you?” Damien sing-songs, still not looking away from the nuggets. He hmphs at it, and muses, possibly to himself, “A hundred and seventy calories for five pieces. Not bad.”

“Yeah, but how much of that is actually chicken?”

Damien blinks, and tears his eyes away from the bag. He looks up at her, his face stuck in an expression that seems to be at least two-thirds disdain, the rest of it being absolute incredulity, as if he’s appalled that some stranger in the grocery store is insisting on lecturing him about his taste in chicken nuggets - which, fair. Because Sam’s looking for it, she can pinpoint the exact moment that he places her, his eyes going ever so slightly wider. He blinks and shuffles backwards half a step, and then the surprise is gone, leaving behind a smooth mask of general douchebaggery. She remembers that mask - the slimy smirk and the too-cool-for-you-slouch.

He leans against the freezer door, and regards her coolly.

Apathetic. Smooth. Unphased.

Yeah, right.

“Saaaaaaam,” he drawls, eying her up and down. One sharp eyebrow quirks upwards, his gaze lingering on the Care Bear t-shirt that she’d thrown on over the tattered, holey tanktop she’d worn to bed the night before. The t-shirt is just as old and worn as the tank top is, and she immediately has to struggle against the urge to check herself for pizza stains. After all, it’s not like the shirt was exactly clean when she’d grabbed it out of the laundry pile. It was just the best looking of the bunch.

She wasn’t actually supposed to run into people that she knew at the freaking grocery store. And definitely not on laundry day. That was just rude.

The smirk ticks ever higher. Damien nods at her shirt. “Cute.”

Sam flexes her fingers, and wonders with an idle sort of curiosity if it would be worth the pain to punch him again. No. Fuck that. Two can play at this game.

“I thought so,” she says with an indifferent shrug and a chipper little smile.

(or)

Do you miss him, she thinks, and has to bite down hard on her lip to keep the question from slipping out. God, how stupid. He’s all pathetic and droopy now, of course he misses Mark. He takes a deep breath, and she watches him pull himself back together. It’s not a very convincing charade, but she lets him have it.

“Anyway,” he says brightly, and pushes off of the freezer. “Things to do, puppies to terrorize, you know the deal.”

He looks at her with that same careful consideration she’d given him a moment ago, and makes his face do something that she thinks is supposed to be an amiable smile. It mostly just looks like he’s trying too hard.

He holds out his hand. “Sam.”

Reluctantly, she takes it. His hand is chilly and a little damp, but he has a surprisingly strong grip. “Damien.”

The grin that he flashes her is still just this side of wrong, too showy, not enough mean.

“It’s been real, but I gotta go.” Damien hesitates, and just when she thinks he’s gonna let it go, he leans in and brushes a careful kiss to her cheek. His lips are warm. They linger for a moment over the swell of her cheekbone, and she wonders why that is. If it’s because of Mark, or her, or the sheer unexpected delight of human contact. When he pulls back, there’s a flush of red across his cheeks, and an unsure, painfully earnest smile on his lips.

His voice is soft, tellingly so when he murmurs, “Give Mark my love, okay?”

Sam swallows, her heart thundering in her chest. And, because she’s still caught off guard, she smiles back, and says, “Okay.”

(or)

“I swear to god, Ben-”

Ben sighs heavily, laying an arm down on the rest between them. He turns to her, and for the first time all day, he really looks. Her hair is frizzing where its come loose from her bun, and there’s engine oil beneath her fingernails. Her dress, modest enough when standing, is riding up her thighs, the cut scandalously short for a funeral. He would bet money that she didn’t pick it out herself.

Her eyes scald him - all the anger and accusation that he’s been avoiding for the last few years narrowed down to a single point. Her brow is pulled tight into a frown and she- she’s itching for this. He knows she is, because even if he hasn’t seen her in six years, Ben grew up alongside of her. He’d been there for her early years, when just keeping her from running was hard enough.

He’d chased her across state lines, kept her from hopping busses, dragged her kicking and screaming to return every stolen car.

He knew the fire in her. He had it, too.

And he knew that it was burning.

“Rey,” he says into the quiet. “Just drive.”

She bares her teeth again, lip curled into an effortless, vicious snarl. Her eyes narrow. Around them, the car hums with power. It sounds as angry as she does.

“You’ll regret that,” she warns, and when he says nothing, she makes a quiet irritated noise and slams the car into reverse, peeling explosively out of the lot. Dust clouds the road behind them. He can smell the burning rubber.

Fic goals: I did absolutely none of the goals I set last year. Nothing novel length, nothing original, very few original characters, and I almost made it to 60k, but not quite. My only goal for next year is to write something that’s all mine. That’s it, Heather. Write a story, make it yours.

#heather says what #heather writes #2018 #new year's memes

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slytherhell · 6 years

Note

Send these to your favorite Authors and let them blab! What is your total word count on AO3? How often do you write? Do you have a routine for writing? What’s your favorite kinks/tropes/pairing? Do you have a favorite fic of yours? Your fic with the most kudos? Anything you don’t like about your writing? Now something you do like! Send it to some of your favorite Authors to spread some love

//////

Total word count on AO3 : 60634 ( and this is with the 3/4 of my fics still not updated since being posted. i’m not sure how it’s this much already, the word count, that is. the most amount of words i’ve written - for a total fic - was about 5k words; then it went up to 16k+ after the food fair entry . just think of how big my total word count could be when i get my writing muse back! )

How often I write: I used to update regularly, back in about 2015. Every day, I would have a new chapter for my fics (on Wattpad, because that was my first main writing platform, but Wattpad’s dead now so we’re here.)

In fact, I used to have a full writing plan; I had about ten hp fics on my account. I picked out the top ones I had the most muse for - which was three, two drarry and one wolfstar - and told myself I would update those fics whenever I felt inspired to.

In the end, I ended up updating those fics three times every week for a good two months, and I had about 24ish chapters for the drarry fics, and close to 20ish chapters for the wolfstar ( I started that fic at a later time than the other two. )

I kept this pattern up, and made sure that everyday after school, I would clear a writing space for myself on my bed so I could write. That helped me a lot and I had so many creative juices...it was insane how much I wrote.

Now, however, I write only whenever I feel inspired to and have enough time + energy ( aka, when I don’t pass out from exhausation and not working on too many things in school - I had and still have a lot of /art/ projects. )

I try my best to write all of my ideas down, but I usually don’t have much inspiration to turn them into longer fics, or anything beyond a simple idea, so most of those get chucked and forgotten.

The ones I do manage to keep around, I usually scribble down the idea on a piece of paper, and write a starter line and/or paragraph to see how it would look if I were to continue it as an actual fic, then determine what I do with it when I get home.

There’s no true definition as to how much I write. I would just say I write depending on my current mood and situation.

Writing Routine:

It used to start in either a swivel chair in the corner of my room, or at the wooden dining room table with a hot mug of fruit-flavored tea. ( It now varies from sitting upright on my bed with music blasting out of my headphones, on the living room couch with the low murmur of the t.v. in the background, or laid sprawled out on the floor with a Kubz Scouts video in the background. )

I try to take a few minutes to write the beginning paragraph on paper, or at least attempt to outline the story ( this usually lasts for about five minutes because I CANNOT sit still, and I’ll fidget a lot if I’m required to sit still for a while. )

I’ll usually look up fics of the similarity to whatever I’m writing, and get further story inspiration from them ( I’ll usually keep those fics up in a seperate tab to read back over when I need help and/or a burst of writing inspiration )

If it’s something I‘m not quite sure about, or something I’m not properly educated on, I ALWAYS do a good bit of research before even remotely writing about it. ( This is something I do NOT skip over, like at all. )

I’m almost always blasting music or video audio through my headphones whenever I write ( I search and listen to music when I write, depending on the theme and the feel of the story. If I’m writing fluff, you’ll probably catch me listening to beautiful piano music. If it’s a dark story - gods, I love dark stories - I’ll be listening to dark music, be it dark piano versions of songs, ambient horror music. And lastly, if I’m writing something emotional, I’ll usually stop by songs that made me cry and sad as child, or that cause me to zone out of reality in present day. )

I try to set a timer whenever I write. ( While it intimidates me, it also pushes me to write more because me eyes are constantly flicker over to the timer, and the closer I see it move down to zero, the faster I write and edit. I kick in about a good twenty words at the very start of the countdown. )

( And unless you wanna hear me rant about how much I get off task and procrasinate writing whenever I can’t figure out how to make a scene work or something of the sort, then this is pretty much it. Oh, and I do a few read-overs and editing when I’m done with the first rough draft. )

Kinks in Fics:

I really like a good ‘ol leather kink in a fic ( specifically when the second half of the pairing, *cough, cough* draco in a drarry fic* is pulling on and stretching on leather gloves, and I blame @mzuul for that because the minute I saw her Draco Malfoy Bad Boy series art, that kink was developed and I’ve loved it since. )

Another one, this is gonna sound really gross + suprising for those that know me, but watersport kink. ( This was first developed when I read my very first fanfictions, and I found a few good drarry fics with this in them so this kink is here to stay )

Hair pulling kink. ( It started out with reading fics fics where Draco would either accidentally or deliberately tug on Harry’s hair, and Harry ended up loving it - but now, I read fics were both Draco and Harry have this kink because it’s actually really good. )

Praise Kink ( Started out with only Harry, but I also like fics where Draco has this kink. I blame @goldentruth813 entirely )

Hung! Harry ( Hung! Like! A Horntail! - this, this fic, is all i’m going to say..)

Parseltongue Kink ( When! Draco! has! this! and! Harry! somehow! still! keeps! his! ability! to! speak! Parseltongue! and uGH,, THIS IS SO GOOD. )

Tropes in Fics:

Legitimate! Enemies to Friends to Lovers

sLOW BURN

Sectumsempra angst

Bi Harry

Pansy is a lesbian

Draco finding out how the Durshleys treated Harry and becoming absolutely lIVID at the news

Dark! Drarry

BAMF! Harry

BAMF! Draco

When they cross paths after a few years and get to know each other + proper character developement + when they clash and they have their ups and downs, causing people to wonder how they’re even comptaible but in the end, they make it work and are able to settle down with each other and enjoy the rest of their lives.

wHEN! THEY ANIMOSITY! STAYS!

Long-haired! Draco

Bearded! Harry

aUROR PARTNERS

Raising a kid together ( tEDDY-! )

pINING

mUTUAL PINING

Sassy! (Canon) Harry

Flustered! Draco

When they’re equally sassy and equally ruthless + being able to get their shit done, and staying on top of their game

When their kids become friends and that forces them to become friends as well and hang out with each other more often

When their kids wants their dads (Draco and Harry) to end up together and make it happen

when it’s hella fluffy

when it’s hella aNGSTY ( haha, chaotic neutural )

Top! Harry!

Bottom! Draco ( I can see them both as either or both being versatile but I really love when Harry tops )

Realistic first times

Their friends setting them up ( I love when Draco, Pansy and Blaise are best friends in fics like this !! )

The constant switch of calling each other by first and last names, depending on the(ir) mood

When they are eQUALS

When they still have bANTER AND STILL ARGUE BUT W/O THE PREVIOUS HATE

When their relationship is real and raw that you can pratically feel it

hURT AND COMFORT ( real heavy on the hurt, just a bit on the comfort bc not drarry all fics have to have happy endings )

Anything involving them both working on a case together

Auror! Harry x Unspeakable! ( or even Healer! ) Draco

Jealous! Draco x (Still) Oblivious! Harry

Oblivious! Draco x Jealous! Harry

Protective! Harry ( Protective! Draco as well )

Beauxbatons! Draco x Hogwarts/Gryffindor! Harry

fORCED PROXIMITY

Multilingual! Draco

French speaking! Draco

Wandless magic ( for both )

POC! Harry ( This is my number one things in fics...I just love POC! Harry

Proper mention and represenation of Harry and/or Draco’s PTSD; following the war

Power couple! Drarry

Pairings:

Drarry ( OTP )

Pansmione

Linny

Blaico

+ a few hundred more ( for all of them, but the kinks in general ) , but you’re probably gonna have to ask off anon bc i don’t wanna lose to remainder of friends i still have left on this site, over this post. ( i keep forgetting that not all drarry accounts follow me - i have some rpers, general artists, people following me with their main acounts + multifandom blogs and i feel like every time i get started up about anything drarry, they just...regret their decision to have followed me xD but you can kinda get the gist of my kinks, right? )

Favorite Fic ( of mine ) : While I constantly dog on my own writing skills, I actually do have some of my fics that I love. But my most favorite? I’d have to say ‘(Fuck A) Silver Lining’

It’s a Draco Malfoy redemption fic I began writing earlier this year ( and yes, it was inspired/influenced by the P!ATD song. )

I mean, I haven’t updated it since I posted it - I began writing it on old Wattpad before I left that hellsite, then I later posted it to my ao3.

It’s my favorite because I really got to explore and go more in depth with Draco’s character, unlike J.K. R*wling.

And I basically filled in all the pieces that led up to the part of Draco’s life we witness ( well, y’all, bc I never read it, ha ) in C*rsed Ch*ld

I basically combined in every post-war Draco headcanon I ever thought of into one whole fic and while it takes you into his mind and shows you just how much the war has changed him, it is actually wholesome. I mean, we’ve got angst, hurt/comfort, finding love, and I even had a few scenes that were so fluffy and pure that I was crying as I wrote - which is why I haven’t updated. Other than dealing with shit irl, this story gets me really emotional and I just love it so much..

Fic with most Kudos:

‘just the right addition’ with 65 kudos.

summary :

harry has a leather kink. but draco didn't know that when he showed up on the field in a leather jacket, and suede leather gloves.

What I don’t like about my writing:

I really don’t like how I transition from scene to scene in my fics. I feel like they’re extremely sloppy and really ruin the story; especially if I had a really good idea/path for the story. ( I also don’t like how I constantly compare my writing, then try and force to change my writing style so it sounds half as good as the author’s writing style of the story that I’m reading )

What I DO like about my writing:

Um, I really like how I start most of my fics off with dialogue. I like how I have a lot on the page, but it still blends in well to get its point across. And also, if it’s a one shot, I like how I have a beginning, middle, and end for the story.

Beginning: Introducing the prompt, and what’s going on with it

Middle: What the characters actions lead to, kinda showing you where it’s going to be heading soon

End : the general idea of the ending/aftermath of it + something like an epilogue, wraps things up in a way.

/////

Thank you so much for sending me this, anon!!

Again, thank you so much, and I hope you’re well!

-Teia

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boggirlsummer · 3 years

Text

Crazy Al’s Last Rodeo: June 23 - 30

Zoey started her thru-hike of the Tahoe Rim Trail (165 miles, ~10 days) a few minutes ago and after writing this I’m headed back to Berkeley. How did we get here? What happened to the PCT?? It’s a long and heartbreaking story...

Last Tuesday, riding the high of our low mileage creekside day and my amateur culture critique, we set out for our next campsite/water source, 21 miles away. We came across our first trail register early in the day and before I could stop her Z signed us in under the name “Crazy Al.” By 1 pm I was already blasting Kate Bush through my fancy new athletic headphones, which didn’t bode well for my physical and mental state given we still had 10 miles to go. At 3 pm we took a break under a big tree on a ridge and triple checked the maps to confirm: yep, there was our final destination far, far in the distance. My left foot was starting to hurt (as it had since our second day) and my legs were more disgusting than ever (feet pics available for paying subscribers - Venmo me $5). Side note can you believe I brought condoms on the trail?? LMAO but hey at least I didn’t bring TWELVE like Cheryl Strayed in Wild…damn gurl.

By 5 miles out my foot was completely trashed and I limped/used my pole as a crutch/tried not to cry/breathed through my mouth like I was in a fkn Lamaze class for those final miserable hours. We finally arrived at the creek and were bitten by literally hundreds of mosquitos instantly. We also discovered that Zoey had developed trench leg, and since mine was looking even worse we started freaking out that maybe it was poison oak and who knows how many times we had touched our faces and eyes and why didn’t we have LTE so we could do some research?? Morale was extremely low (mostly me).

Wednesday morning we hiked five miles to the highway to hitch a ride into Burney, our first resupply stop. We were picked up by a nice off-duty truck driver who bless him had a cooler full of water bottles in the front seat. I asked him about his work and he said he used to drive 11 hours a day without any days off for up to three months and that his new local gig is much better, though the pay isn’t as good. It got me thinking about what “good money” means to a lot of people, especially outside of the Bay Area tech bubble, and what they have to do to live decently. It makes me mad and also makes me feel like a piece of shit for wanting to never work a comfy well-paid desk job again.

Anyway, we got dropped off in Burney around 10 am and discovered that every motel in town was booked for the night. We went to a diner while we figured out what to do and ate our first off-trail meal (Z: sweet potato pancakes and fruit, Me: a chicken fried steak ofc). I slowly broke the news to Zoey that despite my lifelong dream of being airlifted I was scared to keep walking on my busted foot and get stuck somewhere/ruin my body. We also realized that a “historic” heat wave was about to hit the West Coast and even if Zoey continued on solo she’d be hiking in ~105 degree heat for a week or more. So, I convinced Z to head back to Berkeley with me to regroup.

We killed the next four hours loitering at various locations in Burney while waiting for the bus to Redding. The diner was full of characters and I had a lot of fun eavesdropping. Highlights included an overly affectionate couple who were DEFINITELY having an affair, a teen with a shaved head who hates small towns and everyone in them (lol), and an asshole Elvis lookalike who tried to incite a fight between two waitresses while his hot wife(?) sat silently and was either mortified or used to it, I’m not sure which is worse.

We eventually left the diner and posted up in front of the post office, Rite Aid, and finally the sporting goods store. Rite Aid is the best pharmacy because they sell their in-house brand of ice cream, Thrifty, which is all around delicious and also makes my favorite crazy flavor: lemon ice cream (NOT sorbet) with pieces of lemon warhead candy mixed in. WTF!! My mom took me to Rite Aid the day I got my first period and bought me baby tampons and a double cone with chocolate chip cookie dough and chocolate malted crunch, so it felt right to get a scoop on yet another day of transition and bodily trauma.

I’ve never really loitered before and it was actually pretty fun. So many random people stopped to talk to us about the PCT. One woman who had spent the morning collecting cans and was off to enjoy her day with a tall boy and a pack of cigs stopped to chat and as she walked away said, “Be careful!” but then corrected herself, “Actually, don’t be careful, be safe!” We loved that, so badass. Sound off in the comments if you think we should get that tattooed somewhere, maybe on our rib cages.

We caught the bus to Redding, where we spent the night in a motel room that smelled like smoke and had no shampoo. I booked us a queen bed but the front desk guy was like, are you sure?? and upgraded us to a king. I’ve had this happen more than once when I’ve checked in to a hotel with another woman. It’s like they think two women shouldn’t sleep in the same bed and a bigger bed is more appropriate. Like bigger bed = fewer opportunities for us to accidentally brush feet in the middle of the night and suddenly become gay?? These people need to stop watching Carol. Also if we were actually gay I think we’d be more hyped than anyone about the upgrade cuz king beds are the sexiest thing ever. ANYWAY.

Thursday morning we took the train back to Berkeley and were rescued by our housemate Amy, who drove us back to the Bog (our co-op). The best part of coming home was reuniting with our housemates’ dog Blossom, who considers us her crazy aunts. After the novelty of being able to shower and sleep in a bed wore off, I slipped right back into my pre-PCT depression. Three cheers for staring at the ceiling all day and eating Popeyes in my car! Even Zoey was uncharacteristically angsty 😬

The good news is that my foot isn’t broken, but almost a week off the trail and it still hurts to walk on. The heat wave persists and wildfires are starting already along the PCT (the town where we were supposed to resupply this week is currently under evacuation warning). As bummed as we are to change plans after months of planning, we think the best thing to do is bail on the PCT for now. After Zoey finishes the Tahoe Rim Trail, she’s heading to Washington state for a few days with her mom before we reunite in Portland for the remainder of July. We’re hoping to thru-hike the Oregon Coast Trail in late July/early August, but may bikepack it if my foot is still busted.

So stay tuned, Bog Girl Summer hobbles on! Lucky for you, the future holds significantly less trench leg content and more ice cream, bikes, and Portlandia vibes.

In the wise words of Dawes, “Things happen, that’s all they ever do.”

xoxo,

Crazy Al

#Spotify

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flcwerstudies · 6 years

Text

cute tag!

pretty long post coming up!! Thanks to @cafedetude for tagging me!! im tagging: @hermiionegrcnger @studying-frenzy @belledoe @tiny-notes @theteadesk !! You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to ofc and if u want to do it and i haven’t tagged you go ahead!!

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? there must always be more milk than cereal, but that amount must not exceed a certain amount do you get me? when i scoop my cereal there has to be proportionate amounts of milk in each scoop, consistently, until i have finished my bowl. my mind is a strange and lonely place.

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? yes! its so refreshing and i feel like all your lethargy just evaporates... i love taking walks in the winter around my neighborhood in the evenings.

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? spoons, lipsticks, i once used another book to bookmark a book, hair elastic, my contact lenses case, compact mirror....im a mess, i know

4: how do you take your coffee/tea? tea: scalding hot with lots of sugar and some milk. coffee: lots of milk, so much sugar

5: are you self-conscious of your smile? no? i just want my braces off!!

6: do you keep plants? yess

7: do you name your plants? yes! i am currently growing two wild roses and I’ve named them Calliope and Polymnia.

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? journaling, writing, reenacting musicals and dramatic renditions of songs?

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? yeah ofccc it keeps me sane

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? back and side

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends? CAROL THE LESBIAN LIBRARIAN // mary walks by // too many to list here tbh

12: what’s your favorite planet? mars! and also venus

13: what’s something that made you smile today? my friends

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? a hurricane flew thru the entire place, empty wine bottles on the ground, beanbag chairs, stacks of books and movies, maybe a cat and a dog lazing around on the couch

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! there’s a gigantic cloud of alcohol wayyyyy out in outer space that could produce over 450 trillion pints of beer

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish? give me all the pasta. i love all pastas.

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? im ok with my hair color now

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. GETTING A CAPUCHIN MONKEY AS MY PATRONUS ON POTTERMORE

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? yes! i rant a lot and i sort of write down reflections? on my day and things. its really emo and angsty lmao im 16 pls

20: what’s your favorite eye color? brown eyes. so gentle. so sharp. so kind but so cruel. so ambiguous!

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. my tote bag from myanmar! the straps are falling off but i love it so much

22: are you a morning person? depends on if i slept early enough

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? sleep, watch a movie, watch youtube, read

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? absolutely not. it always pisses me off when people are like ohhh you can tell me anything??? no i can’t????

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? my friend’s house lmao

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? my peach converse! they’re so pastel and they seem weird but converse generally go well with a lot of things

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? i don’t like gum tbh

28: sunrise or sunset? both

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? sticks his tongue out when he’s concentrating and its so cute i die everytime

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? yes but i will never ever go into detail with anyone about this lmao

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. i love socks, i like wearing weird socks except for toe socks, people who sleep with socks on are Immune to Heat and Not Afraid Of Dying?? no white socks get nasty real quick and they’re so bland, i love socks i have this grey pair with french bulldog faces allllll over it and i wear them all the time and even though people can’t see them i still get happy and tell people about my dog socks.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. HA LMAO we had just watched a scary movie so obviously we turned on my little pony and watched that for two hours

33: what’s your fave pastry? cupcakes! anything tbh i have an enormous sweet tooth

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? my dad used to go on a lot of business trips and he came back once with a huge stuffed bear from switzerland and its so fuzzy its still on my bed. it’s name is Fred and it wears overalls and it has brown fur!

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? yes to all!!

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now? paul anka lmao he’s not a band but ya know

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? clean

38: tell us about your pet peeves! wHEN UR JAMMING OUT TO MUSIC AND THEN SPOTIFY JUST STOPS WORKING?? people asking me if im mad when im just being quiet and then making me mad by continually questionning me, people who will ask dumb questions (yes, there are always dumb questions. google is free and im not going to tell u the homework, it’s written on the board quite clearly u moron), racist/homophobic/ableist/ generally offensive and disrespectful people

39: what color do you wear the most? grey and navy

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you? I have mismatching earrings that my grandmother got me for my birthday!

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? Fifteen Dogs by Andre Alexis!

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! the starbucks on center street it’s very Starbucks, exactly what you would expect, but I always sit in the corner spot near the windows

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? My family!

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? sitting in the sand in shell key, florida. my feet are in the water and i am watching my family swimming. I am very sunburnt but my mind is completely blank in a good way

45: do you trust your instincts a lot? absolutely

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. ofc they used a baby lion as their mascot. it’s simba-lic.

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? there’s this food in korea that’s just stir fried rice with soybean sprouts and the sprouts..... aw god....they refuse to be bitten in half and it’s so gross i hate it sm

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? darkness! and no it is different today!

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? there are scarce places to buy CD’s now but the last one I bought was Micheal Jackson’s Bad

50: what’s an odd thing you collect? bottle caps and paperclips and also pens i pick off the ground

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? my dad. any aretha franklin song

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? the spongebob one and the gif of the white man who blinks a lot....u know the one

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? i loved all of them and i want to be able to quote them in all of my speech but i dont think people have watched all of them

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? i was working on homework last night and when i was turning on my laptop to work on my project i met my reflection in the screen

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point? been incredibly bitchy like damn.....i surprise myself and i really hate it

56: what are some things you find endearing in people? when people use weird shit as bookmarks, when they laugh with their eyes shut, laugh lines near their eyes, dimples, kindness, when they aren’t afraid of making eye contact with me bc i have weirdly intense eyes

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? it did not fit the mood of my day but yes i did reenact the lyrics

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? my friend diana is the wine mom but i am the vodka aunt. why?? she is infinitely more caring and kind and sophisticated and also wine gets u lowkey, calm drunk, while i, the vodka aunt, am caring, but i have a bit of a laissez faire attitude and go with the flow and ‘damn what the hell fuck it’ kinda vibe and vodka gets u sloppy shitfaced drunk with none of the sophistication that comes with wine.

59: what’s your favorite myth? icarus

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? i dont LOVE poetry but i like haikus they’re like clever one liners ha

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received? I gave my friend a notebook that i’d hastily made the night before and I have received a box of pads which in retrospect is not even a stupid present bc pads are expensive

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? i drink oj when i can

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? i organize them every month bc i am ridiculous and i can’t function if my bookshelf is weirdly organized

64: what color is the sky where you are right now? pale grey almost white.

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with? my oldest group of friends (TNT lmaoooo) OR YOU KNOW callixtus from volunteering holyyy. you know those people who u meet and u immediately click with?? he’s on of them magical people and he was hella funny too i miss that guy to all hell

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? small roses! peach blossoms and cherry blossoms too. one huge ass hibiscus or lotus flower as a statement piece

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? cozy and sheltered. valid excuse for not going out

68: what’s winter like where you live? terrible but i love it kinda

69: what are your favorite board games? monopoly

70: have you ever used a ouija board? NO WHAT

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea? barley, green or reallllyyyy black tea with loootss of sugar so that it makes your teeth ache

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it? yeah how’d you know

73: what are some of your worst habits? expecting everyone to be on the same page

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. dedicated and brash, loud and hilarious, soft, amazing, i love them a lot

75: tell us about your pets! i dont have pets!! T-T

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t? studying BUT DONT CALL ME OUT LIKE THIS OK

77: pink or yellow lemonade? pink

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? hateclub sorry

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? done my makeup for me while gossiping with me

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? pale green and yeah i did. i chose it bc i love green! and the old color was boring and i didn’t like it

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. no edges at all, soft bovine eyes , shaking leaves, crocodile tears

82: are/were you good in school? yes! it’s a source of a lot of pride for me!

83: what’s some of your favorite album art? amsterdam by nothing but thieves omg

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? oohh nahh im not planning on getting tattoos im scared of needles

85: do you read comics? what are your faves? through the woods? i used to read a lot of them but you know i grew out of them

86: do you like concept albums? which ones? not especially no

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? the drop, double indemnity, back to the future, idk there’s a lot

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? the rennaissance! it was so extra and i loved it a lot

89: are you close to your parents? yeah

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. TORONTO-soaring skyline from the highways at night near the lakeshore, the lights from the condos are like stars and its ridiculous but i also loooooveee dubrovnik in croatia and hanoi in vietnam and kaunas in lithuania and kyoto in japan.....in dubrovnik the wind blows in from the shore and at night when the lights are on in the walled city the stone glows amber. In Hanoi in the old quarter, motorbikes flash by and there’s yelling and the smell of pork skewers and there’s old buildings and new ones, huge stalks of bamboo leaning up against the walls. In Kaunas the wind is so cold and sharp and the buildings are so clean and there’s that old fortress and the tower! it’s so beautiful. and Kyoto is old and archaic but so modern it hurts and the streets are too uniform and the houses creep me out a bit bc they’re so quiet.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year? i dont think so

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? i will bury my pasta in cheese just you watch

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most? my hair is one style fits all bc its short

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? my friend!

95: what are your plans for this weekend? study and work on projects and homework and stress and nap and have dinner with a guest

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? no updates. we die like men.

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? isfj-t, aries, ravenclaw

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? sometime in september? it was nice!

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. put your head on my shoulder by paul anka....there’s a lot and im really lazy sorry

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? 5 years in the future, just to see where I end up

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