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livlaughloveluke · 3 days

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𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗙𝗧 ! - 𝗣.𝟭

child of dionysus x luke castellan 🍷

IN WHICH… the man you hate just can’t seem to leave you alone

warning! this fic contains- swearing // alcohol mentions // shitty parents // use of y/n // angst // daddy issues! // spoilers to tlt // probably not book accurate // implied sex!! // no actual smut, but definitely heavy illusions to sex (both characters are 18) // loss of virginity // drugs (medicinal) // blood // reader wears a swimsuit?? // reader gender isn’t mentioned i think // mentions of death/drowning // ends on an cliffhanger!!!

[a/n]-we’re just going to say tlt takes place in 2005, so luke and will have been born in 1986. also, incase you didn’t know, Hera doesn’t have any demigods, so her cabin is empty :)

part two is in progress, just wanted to put something out until then. also kinda ends on an odd note because it wasn’t intended to be multiple parts

🎧- night shift by lucy dacus

6.6k words (oopsies)

You hated Luke Castellan above all else.

Coming from you, that was a pretty bold statement, considering that you had a fiery hatred for plenty of things. Whether it be people who smacked their gum too loudly or ignorant gods who brushed off their children with no remorse, everything seemed to unwillingly ignite a spark in you. However, someone in particular really seemed to piss you off.

The mere sight of his stupid curls and even stupider scar hadn’t always awakened such a burning rage in you; in fact, he used to do the opposite. He was fourteen when you first met him.

April 13th, 2000

Luke had been placed into the chaos of Cabin 11, the other campers unfazed by a new demigod living with them as they carelessly bumped into his shoulder while playing tag. Old magazines scattered the wood floors, and dust covered the edges of his scrappy bed. With a sigh, he threw his bag onto the floor and escaped the overwhelming sensations provided by his siblings.

The light tour Chiron provided was seemingly useless as he mindlessly waltzed down to the lake, unsure of another quiet space to go to. He performed a quick glance around to ensure he was really alone, and then plopped down onto the rocky shore with a groan. Without his father and now Thalia, he wasn’t sure if he’d survive a night at this bullshit camp.

“You okay?” You emerged from the woods, staring at him with a concerned expression. He jumped slightly, startled by your presence since he literally just checked to see if he was alone. “Oh, uhm, yeah.”

“Wanna talk about it?” You asked, noticing the way his tone was so unconvincing while sitting down next to him and staring out at the view. It wasn’t typical of you to be so welcoming, but you had recently received dessert privileges back after getting them taken away for punching some Aphrodite girl, so a cheery mood was accompanied. He glared at you, slightly annoyed by the way you interrupted his moment of peace. But then again, you weren’t really bothering him, so he figured you could stay. You were also breathtaking, so how could he shoo you away?

“No.” Luke replied honestly after a moment of silence, a slight grimace decorating his features while thinking about his long past.

“Fair. I’m sorry about your friend.” You said, your voice filled with empathy rather than pity as you kept eye contact with the horizon despite the cooling wind that turned your eyes glossy and ruffled your neon orange shirt. “Thanks.” He muttered as the memories flooded his mind, to the point where he had to clench his teeth together so he wouldn’t cry.

“I’m Y/N. Child of Dionysus.” Turning around, you offered a friendly smile until you realized he had his head buried into the crook of his elbow and emitted gentle sniffles. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. Did I say something? I’m trying to work on it, I swear-“

“Does it ever get easier?” He interrupted, although his request came out muffled as he whispered into his skin.

“Well… sorta.”

“Sorta?”

“You get used to the whole Greek God thing, I guess.” You reply, avoiding the question he was clearly implying about his father being present. It wasn’t one you typically liked to talk about, along with most of the other campers with daddy issues. The truth was, you hated the gods for abandoning their children, but speaking out about that would have some brutal consequences. Let’s just say you would lose more than just dessert privileges for a week.

“I’m heading down to the bonfire; you should join.” You said after another long pause of silence, standing up and dusting the particles of sand that had collected on the bottom of your denim shorts.

“Okay.” He stood up, wiping his eyes, and followed you as you hiked through the trees.

“So, why were you stalking me again?” Luke spoke up with a sarcastic tone, stepping over the large tree trunks that had fallen down onto the forest floor.

“Woah, I was not stalking you, newbie.”

“Sure looked like it when you magically appeared out of the woods.”

“Well, I wasn’t, okay? Mind your business.” You snapped, the caring facade slipping away as you stared at him harshly enough to pierce his heart.

“Jeez, sorry.” Luke looked down at his feet, feeling a little guilty for being too pushy with practically a stranger. After seeing his suddenly reserved body language, you stopped the hike and faced him.

“Don’t apologize.”

“What?” His gaze averted back up to meet your cold expression.

“Don’t apologize. I was being a bitch. Stand up for yourself.”

“Uhh..” Luke was now extremely confused, looking around as if this was some sort of prank show with the way you switched up so fast.

“Let’s try again. I’m gonna say the sane thing, and you’re going to stand up for yourself. Kay?”

“I don’t-“ He started, but was quickly interrupted by you.

“Well, I wasn’t, okay? Mind your business.” You repeated from earlier, making your voice sound even ruder as you dramatically exclaimed.

“N-no? Is that what I’m supposed to say?” He questioned, still nervously glancing around and searching for some sort of explanation or another person hiding in the undergrowth to reveal it was a silly joke. You raised your eyebrows in disbelief at his terrible performance, blinking slowly as you scoffed.

“Oh gods. It’s not what you say; it’s how you say it. Be more confident.” Stepping back, you repeated the sentence again. “Well, I wasn’t, okay? Mind your business.”

“No.” Luke said, this time with more pride, although he kept staring at you for a sign of approval. “Good!” You supportively with a grin, turning to continue your walk. And after a sassy eye roll, Luke followed behind.

“Just trying to protect you from the Ares kids. They can be assholes.” You happily explained, a little too cheery for someone who just snapped at him.

“Yeah, okay.”

Luke knew he should be bothered by your interesting behavior. I mean, most would, but deep down, he liked how you were empathetic in such a strange way. It made him feel human, instead of like a tourist attraction that people whispered sweet nothings to and stared at curiously.

“Don’t take anyone’s shit, and soon enough you’ll be swimming in kleos.” You stated, swaying with every step and providing plenty of hand gestures.

“Kleos?”

“Glory. Everyone here is basically fighting to be respected.”

“Oh. Shouldn’t everyone just be respectful?” He obliviously asked, ducking under a low, hanging branch.

“They should, but they aren’t. But with glory, it makes you important. People sit up when you walk in the room; stay out of your way; things like that.”

“Wait, so I just have to stand up for myself, and suddenly I’m all important?”

“Sometimes. Usually, though, you have to major in some skill. Archery, sword fighting, healing, etc. You been claimed yet?”

“Yeah, Hermes.”

“Oh.” You replied, dissatisfaction noticeable.

“Oh??” Luke questioned, offended and sounding a little more rude than he intended.

“It’s not really a bad thing. Just different demigods are usually good at certain stuff. With Hermes, they typically tend to be good liars.”

“What’s your talent?” Luke asked, causing you to go quiet for a minute while thinking.

“Well, I’m really good at poker. That’s about it.”

“You’re a good talker, too.” He said, causing you to shoot him a threatening glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you give decent advice, and you’re pretty welcoming. That’s a plus.” He instantly backtracked.

“Half of the camp would disagree with you on that. Turns out hostility doesn’t get you the best reputation.”

“You’re hostile?” Sure, you may have had a little anger management problem, but hostile? You seemed sweet enough to Luke, at least.

“I don’t talk to all the newbies like this.”

“Then why me?” Luke, from his understanding, wasn’t special. He didn’t stick out. He wasn’t super hot, smart, or funny. He was just average, in his opinion.

“Dunno. Why not?” You said, which wasn’t entirely true. He just seemed different, like he was hiding more beneath the surface. Similar to a puzzle that you needed to solve, except if you didn’t, you’d be burdened with a painful itch of curiosity for the rest of eternity.

“Hm, Fair. But what should I try to achieve kleos?”

“Don’t go for archery or healing; the Apollo kids will smoke you. Maybe sword fighting? I could show you the basics sometime.”

“Sword fighting it is.”

May 21st, 2001

"Where were you during arts and crafts?" You asked while sitting down next to Luke at lunch, clearly irritated by his absence during this morning's activities.

"I was-" He tried to explain, but you had already taken his hands and begun to inspect them, your touch shutting him up. You huffed in annoyance while gently tracing over his callouses and cuts.

"You were training again."

"I just needed more practice. I didn't mean to-" He started, feeling remorse for not showing up, but you were there to quickly interrupt him.

"Save it. I have bandages back at my cabin; let's go. It's the least you can do for leaving me with your siblings all morning." You slammed your hands on the table, standing up and practically dragging Luke to follow you (he would have followed even if you didn't force him).

Once a long distance away from the pavilion, you brought up a topic he wasn't the most comfortable with. "Training to prove yourself?" He swallowed back his anger, not wanting to lash out at you, despite the fact that you could obviously take it.

"Maybe I am. Who cares?"

"I do. Stop caring about the gods so much."

"Easy for you to say. Your father's here." Luke mumbled mockingly under his breath, barely above a whisper, but you heard.

"I'm not sure he even knows my name. He's a drunk dumbass, not exactly great dad material." This shut him up, his gaze traveling to the dirt floor until you reached Cabin 12. Silence and tension filled the air as you opened your backpack, scouring for the gauze and anticipatant. Gripping his wrist with a rage-filled force, you carefully rubbed the Neosporin over the red cuts and wrapped his palms with the stretchy material gifted by an Apollo friend.

"Don't say I don't care about you. You know I do." You whispered, breaking the quiet atmosphere and filling it with fiery love.

"But he doesn't."

"So?"

"He's my father. He should."

"You should stop focusing on what you don't have. Working yourself to the bone won't improve your relationship."

He didn't respond, not having an argument or a sassy comment whipped up, because you were right. He manufactured this mindset that if he was good enough, if he had glory, Hermes would finally notice him and would finally love him. However, there was always a little voice in the back of his head that made him doubt all of his hopes for a family. You just amplified that voice like a microphone.

"And you left me alone with your brothers. Bleh." You smiled, trying to lighten the mood a little while tying off the first bandage.

"C'mon, they aren't that bad."

"You should have heard how they were talking about Julia from Aphrodite Cabin."

"Ew." He laughed, looking at you while you concentrated on wrapping his last hand. You looked so stunning like this, with your pearly teeth peeking between the skin of your lips and your eyes squinting while focusing on making sure it was perfect. He was truly a dumbass, focusing on the gods while you were right in front of him. "Done." You said while tucking in the end of the gauze. He hinged his hand open and shut a few times to make sure it was sturdy, and of course it was.

"Thank you." Luke praised you, not just for patching him up, but for caring.

"Anytime. Hey, I made you something during arts and crafts." You dug through your plastic junk drawer, clinking around all the junk in search of something specific.

"Hm?"

You snatched up a small beaded necklace from the drawer before extending your hand and showing it to him. It was crumpled up, the flimsy string intertwined with itself and the beads out of order, so he picked the jewelry up and awed at the handmade piece. It was wooden beads painted in deep burgundy paint with your first name spelled out in Greek letters, strung on black elastic.

"It's gorgeous." Was all he could manage to utter out, still starstruck by the thoughtfulness of your gift.

"Thanks. We should probably get back to lunch before it's over." You replied, and for the first time in Luke's year of knowing you, you look flustered. You nervously glanced down at the laces to your shoes and fiddled with your fingers, even swaying from the tips of your toes to the back of your heels.

"Yeah, yeah." He agreed, slipping the necklace on and walking out with you behind him. For the rest of the day, he was all smiles and giggles, with others unsure of why he was in such a good mood. Until the inky night sky swallowed the bright blue light, and nightmares came with it.

Most demigods were prone to the occasional bad dream, but Luke was a frequent victim of Hypnos’ curse. Every other night was filled with images of losing what he loved, but he was too embarrassed to talk to someone about it, so he suffered silently.

That night, the dreams were particularly horrific, to the point where he awoke covered in sweat and probably some tears, too. His mind debated whether or not sneaking out and waking you up was a bad idea, but the thought of staying awake alone in his bed another minute scared him more than any profanity you could throw at him for interrupting your “beauty sleep.”

Tiptoeing silently outside the hot cabin, his heart pounded as he traveled to your room next door. He was still in flannel pajama pants and an old tee shirt with some vintage band plastered on it, the chilling wind erupting goosebumps.

Luckily, your bed was right next to a window, which he promptly (and quietly) tapped on to wake you up. A few groans and twists later, you slid open the glass and gawked at him.

“Luke, what the fuck are you doing?” You whisper-yelled, praying to the gods none of your siblings woke up and started bitching.

“I had a nightmare.”

“You woke me up at two in the morning because you had a nightmare?”

“Please, I just need someone to talk to.” Hearing the desperation and seriousness in his voice, you couldn’t possibly reject him, no matter how tired you were.

“I’ll be out in a second.”

Sliding the window shut, you slipped on some sandals and exited to see Luke, who was standing on the porch.

Walking down the steps with him tracking behind, you waited until you were isolated by the lake to talk. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been having really bad nightmares lately, and I know that sounds stupid, but I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Have you tried talking to the Apollo kids? It’s not rare for them to deal with insomnia.”

“Well, no. It’s humiliating. It’s taken me a year to talk to you about it, and you’re my best friend.” Luke skimmed past the term ‘best friend’, unsure if you felt the same. It was stupid; you were definitely his best friend, but what if he wasn’t yours?

“First of all, it’s not. But I don’t mind talking to them. I can say I’m having nightmares, and they’ll probably give me melatonin, and then I can give it to you.”

“You’d do that? Smuggle drugs for me?” He spoke softly, the moonlight enchanting his features.

“Course. You’re my best friend.”

December 27th, 2002

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You yelled at Luke in the empty Hera Cabin, angrier than ever. Word had spread to you like wildfire of a quest Luke had accepted, despite the fact it was a suicide mission.

“Listen-“

“No! You told me you didn’t care about the god’s approval anymore. And now you’re going on some bullshit quest?! You’re a fucking dumbass.”

“I just need one chance to prove myself to him.” He pleaded, begging for you to understand and forgive him, even though he knew you weren’t the “forgive and forget” type. Honestly, he was about 80% sure you were still holding a grudge against him for stealing the dessert off your plate three months ago.

“Why aren’t you happy where you are? You’re the best swordsman at camp in three hundred years; half the girls here are in love with you, and everyone practically worships the ground you walk on!”

“I don’t care about them.”

“Do you not care about me, either?” You spoke softly, which was a dramatic shift from the heated yelling a few seconds ago.

“What? Of course-“ Luke cared about you more than anything— more than himself or any silly god. It wasn’t very far-fetched to assume that he even loved you, although his anxious self would never admit anything of the sort. But this quest was a dream of his, and it wasn’t possible for him to just give it up.

“Whatever. I’m done with your bullshit.” You cut him off and stormed out, leaving him to watch you walk away with an aching pain in his heart. That wound was left open as he set out for his journey that night, along with two other campers who were slightly underqualified.

The quest went to shit the minute they left camp’s solace, with monsters attacking from every direction. However, he and his companions were able to make it to the guarded tree with only a few minor injuries.

Until Luke reached for the golden apple and was sliced by the dragon who protected the fruit. Blood gushed out of the cut that decorated his eye as he stumbled away. The loss of blood and shock caught up to him, and eventually he lay in the arms of his friends, fading in and out of consciousness.

The idea that your life flashes before your eyes when you're near death is indeed true. Memories of previous years flooded his brain, from his childhood to his teen years (which mainly consisted of you). As the light faded away, all he could think of was how he never admitted his love to you and how your last interaction with him was an argument.

The next time he awoke, he was in the camp infirmary, dazed as he slowly blinked the sleep away from his eyes. The teenage nurses yelled at him as he slowly stood up and deliriously walked outside, but he couldn’t care less. He just wanted to see you and apologize. His near-death experience was a wake-up call, a sign that what he was feeling towards you wasn’t just friendly admiration.

Luckily for him, you were waiting for him outside, sitting on a wood bench as you anxiously bounced your leg. As he stumbled out the door, you immediately stood up and rushed towards his weak body. What caught him off guard was the way you hugged him instantly, wrapping your arms around his torso while burying your head in his chest. For the first time in days, you were able to breathe, inhaling his musky scent rapidly. The fight had taken a toll on you. You lied awake at every night scared out of your mind that he would die hating you.

“I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things, I was just angry at you for leaving me, but-” You rammbled into the cloth of his shirt, the vibrations on his skin making his heart flutter.

“Don’t apologize.” He said with a loopy smile, making you laugh with relief while remembering the first time you met. His original plan of confessing his love to you the moment he woke up with a dramatic spiel was immediately thrown in the trash as he looked at you from above. The worries of ruining this magical friendship you had spent two years building overtook the joys of the possibility that a new relationship would blossom. So for now, he was comfortable being friends with you. Best friends.

The stares from others went unnoticed, Luke too enchanted by your warming touch to see the way others gawked at him from afar, like he was a monster. Not until the next day, when he wasn’t drugged, at least.

When he looked in the crowded bathroom mirror the next morning after plenty of rest, it almost scared him. His gash was a beaming red with dried maroon blood on the edges and a violet hue discoloring the nearby skin. Swallowing nervously, he did his best to clean it up with warm water before rushing to the picnic tables for breakfast, where you sat munching on cereal.

“You’re the most brutally honest person I know. How bad is it? Like, can I even show my face anymore?” He blurted out, causing you to glance up with a slight panic. After a few seconds of consideration, you replied.

“It makes you look badass.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely. Go get something to eat and come back to talk to me.” Luke responded with a nod, heading off to grab a quick breakfast. With a tray of pancakes in his hand, he returned and sat down across from you.

“So?” You waited eagerly for some explanation of his trip.

“It went like shit. You’re right, I’m not good enough.”

“Woah, I never said that.”

“You implied it.”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant you shouldn’t rely on your successes or failures to determine your worth.”

“Same thing.” He retorted with a scowl, stuffing his mouth with food.

“Not even close. So, what’d you learn?”

“That I need to train harder.”

“Holy shit, you are a dumbass.” You said with a long blink and a theatrical sigh.

“Can we talk about something else?”

“Sure. How’s Annabeth?” Annabeth and you were always so different, but somehow that made you closer. She spent her hours strategizing and acting like an adult, and you spent yours playing games and wishing you were younger. Regardless, she was like a little sister to you.

“She’s… like usual.” Luke replied with a crinkle of his lips.

“Mm, so she’s still forcing herself to be an adult at nine?”

“Yeah, just about.”

“We should get her to play poker with us one night. Help loosen her up a little.”

“Not a chance.”

March 19th, 2003

You and Luke stood side by side, anxiously waiting for Capture the Flag to start, while Chiron yapped about the rules. You’d already heard the whole spiel of instructions multiple times, so naturally you grew bored, and your mind wandered off to the boy beside you.

He looked like a true warrior, with his pointy metal helmet that somehow sharpened his features. Over the past few summers, he had grown significantly, and the puff on his cheeks had thinned out. Needless to say, he wasn’t short of admirers.

You painfully watched as hundreds of girls fawned over him and even began to dread getting ready in the bathroom because of how many praises were thrown at him.

Luke sensed your annoyance from afar, although it wasn’t hard to notice by the way you scowled every time someone approached him with a new compliment. However, he thought you were just envious of the praise he received. In reality, you felt threatened, like someone would steal your spot in your best-friend-who-sometimes-flirt-with-each-other relationship with him. He would never let it happen though, even if you weren’t aware.

“Let the games begin!” Chiron yelled, snapping you out of your daydreaming session.

“You take the east side of the forest, I take the west, we meet up in the middle, right?” You wanted to confirm the Athena cabin’s strategy with him, to which he replied with a quick nod.

“Mhm. See you on the flip side.”

“See you on the flip side, Castellan.” You both turned to the different small groups that you were leading, setting out on foot to start your plan.

Annabeth and a few other geniuses had spent the past two weeks carefully crafting a flawless plan for today’s Capture the Flag game. You and Luke would attack, traveling into their side of the woods, while the rest would defend.

While you might not have been the best swordsman, you were a master of trickery and deception and decent at fist fighting. Plus, you had a solid team backing you up.

“So basically, we just need to fight some of the red team and then meet up with Luke and his group in the middle. Kay?” You instructed to your acquaintances, who diligently followed behind you as you hiked through the evergreen trees, until you saw a few of the other team lurking around. With a surprise attack, you were able to defeat them, with little of your squad lost in the process.

You kept on trekking through the dark depths of the forest before spotting some of the best members of the red team, specifically Sam from Ares cabin.

They were the biggest asshole around, and extremely cocky for someone who was the second-best sword fighter in camp. Plus, they were always trying to get in your pants, along with every other counselor who was old enough. To be frank, they were super hot, but you weren’t interested in anyone currently. Well, anyone who wasn’t Luke Castellan.

Knowing you wouldn’t win this battle, you shuffled to the bushes and silently watched while thinking of a good plan.

“Nice try. Up. Slowly.” Sam said unexpectedly, causing you to sigh with frustration and calmly stand up, along with your teammates.

“So, you can either give up now and save yourself the trouble, or we can do the whole fighting thing and eliminate you that way. Your choice.” They stated with a smile, only egging you on.

“What a little bundle of joy you are.”

“Hm, okay, fighting it is.” They sliced for your stomach, the metal of their blade clinking with the iron of your breastplate. You were stunned at first, but immediately charged back while his goons attacked your friends.

The sound of swords slicing and heavy grunts filled the woods, alerting Luke, who was a decent distance away. Most of his teammates had been eliminated, so now it was just him and one other member. He lightly jogged to the scene, not caring too much.

Meanwhile, your group was putting up a solid fight, but so were they. You clashed swords relentlessly with Sam, while your teammates suffered a bloody battle. In a mere minute, all of your team had surrendered, but so had all of Sam’s team.

With every second that passed, your efforts got messier and energy your got lower, and it was apparent this wasn’t going to be your victory. With one clean slice, Sam nicked your arm violently, and you let out a scream in response. Unbeknownst to you, Luke heard your pain and panicked, changing his pace from a careless jog to a speedy sprint. His partner yelled at him, confused, but Luke just kept going, despite his muscles that ached like fire.

You grew exhausted, now just weakly defending yourself from every attack. Seeing how unfocused you became, Sam took this opportunity to swipe your feet with his leg and send you tumbling to the ground, disarming you in the process.

Both panting heavily, they shakily brought the blade to your neck and stepped on your torso to prevent less squirming.

“You’d be a lot hotter if you weren’t such a bitch.” They said, and before you could come up with a witty reply, Luke had charged from behind. Slicing at Sam with adrenaline-fueled anger, he instantly knocked them down to the floor.

“Don’t ever talk to them like that again, or I’ll seriously fuck you up. Okay?”

“Okay, Jesus! What are you, their boyfriend or something?”

Luke wasn’t sure how to reply, so he didn’t. Was this too protective of him? No, he was just helping a friend. Right?

“Just say you surrender already.” He mustered up.

“Fine, I surrender.” Sam mumbled, and Luke took his sword away while they fled. Then, he turned to you, who was watching the whole thing from the floor.

“Holy shit, thank you.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. They hurt you?” He replied with a grin, helping you up with his right hand.

“Nothing bad.” You responded, twisting your arm to get a glance at the cut. He winced with empathy while grabbing your wrist so he could get a better glance.

“Ouch. Go to the infirmary. It’s bleeding a lot.”

“Whatever. Go get the flag, trooper.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. With a sly salute, you both headed your separate ways. Luke had a pep in his step as he jogged to the bright flag, forgetting all about his partner, who was somewhere in the trees far behind him.

You headed to the nurse, getting it cleaned and patched up easily before setting off to the lake. Sitting on a pointy rock, you waited mindlessly for this stretched-out game to end. Technically you were still in, but your match with Sam was enough fighting for the day.

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long, because Luke emerged from the forest a few minutes later carrying a gleaming red flag with pride.

Standing up, you cheered with excitement as you ran up to him, squealing like a little girl. He stopped in front of you and dug the pole into the rocky shore with a grin. Still in awe, all you could manage out was a toothy smile in reply.

“Congrats, Castellan.”

“Eh, it was no big deal.” He joked, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Whatever. Bonfire tonight!!” You laughed and made sure to yell out the last sentence for all of your teammates, who whooped with glee.

When the sun drifted down the horizon that night, you and dozens of campers headed down to the shore, where a sparking fire raged. The flames danced as you sat around, scattered on different logs. You currently sat on the floor next to Luke while he sat on the wood, leaning your back against the dead tree and ever-so-slightly brushing up against his legs.

Everyone had noticed your change in attitude over the last few years. You seemed bubblier and more happy because, well, you were. Falling in love with someone who had a chance of reciprocating feelings was heaven. Every long stare from across the room and gentle touch made your skin crawl with adoration. Maybe you should tell him. But why ruin everything?

As the night stretched on and the violet sky dissipated into a jet black that was freckled with stars, you grew sleepier. And after the third yawn in only ten minutes, you decided it was time to hit the hay.

“Okay, I’m calling it quits. Night guys!” You stood up before turning to Luke.

“Goodnight, Luke.” You whispered in such a caring tone that he felt shivers down his spine. Speechless, he watched with hearts in his eyes as you walked away.

“At least try and be discreet.” One of his friends laughed as soon as your figure went unseen.

August 2nd, 2004

“Absolutely not. No way!” Annabeth yelled at you.

You, Luke, and her all sat on the floor of Cabin 12 playing Uno because apparently gambling “isn’t appropriate for an eleven-year-old.” The problem was that you liked to make up your own rules, while Annabeth strictly stuck to what was written in the instructions.

“Beth, everyone plays this way! Just take your six!”

“If your friends jumped off a cliff, would you?” She gave you her signature death stare.

“What are you, my mom? Luke, what’s your opinion?”

“Do not drag me into this.”

“I quit. I’m heading down to the lake, you guys wanna come?” You stated, slamming your mountain of red cards onto the floor and jumping up to search for a bathing suit in your dresser.

“I have archery training.” Annabeth said, grabbing her stuff and walking out.

“I’ll go.” Luke replied a little too eagerly.

“Okay. Meet me at the docks in ten?”

“Sure.” Using his bandaged palms to push off the wood floor, he left to go change.

Slipping into your black swimsuit, you threw a baggy shirt over it and skipped down to the shore, where Luke was waiting with his feet in the icy water.

“Hey.” You alerted him of your presence while sliding off your cover and tossing it down beside you. His breath hitched, and he couldn’t help but gawk at the slivers of your exposed skin. Nervously swallowing, he weakly replied. “H-hey.”

Ignoring the way he stuttered and stared, you jumped into the cool lake. The blue water engulfed you in a refreshing embrace, rolling off your skin as you emerged from the surface.

“I’ll race you to that buoy over there.” You pointed to the white float that bobbled up and down.

“Deal. Winner gets loser’s dessert for a week.”

“Deal.” You took off before he was even in the water, pushing off of the wood dock to accelerate forward.

“Cheater!” Luke yelled playfully before jumping in and following your path.

Eventually, he caught up and even reached the buoy first, grinning triumphantly as you paddled towards him.

“I hate you.” You mumbled, but the beaming smile plastered on your face told another story.

“Fine, you can keep your dessert privileges, but I still want bragging rights.” He offered, not caring a smidge about anything but making you happy.

“Gods, you’re such a good person.” You said, knowing you would have taken his food and flaunted on him for the next seven days.

“Race you back?”

“Fuck no. I’m tired.”

“I’ll carry you. The waters not too deep; you can sit on my shoulders while I walk.”

“You’ll drown.”

“I’m pretty ripped; I think I can manage carrying you one hundred yards.” He jokingly replied with a flex of his bicep, which was definitely appreciated by your wandering eyes.

“Sure. I’m not saving you if you do end up drowning, though.” You climbed onto his shoulders, and he gripped your calfs to help stabilize you and because he really just wanted an excuse to touch you.

“That’s a pretty badass way to die.” He said while trailing through the fresh liquid.

“To die while swimming through five-foot-deep waters?”

“Well, not when you phrase it like that.”

“How would you phrase it?”

“Glorious hero meets his fate at the lake with another counselor’s thighs wrapped around his head.”

You both froze with shock when he uttered his suggestive remark, even Luke not realizing his mistake until after. He felt his cheeks go hot and nervously tried to apologize for making you feel uncomfortable.

“Oh my gods, I swear I did not mean-“

You cut him off with a deep and angelic laugh, clearly not hurt by his poor choice of words.

“You’re a dumbass.” You choked out through heavy giggles, and he instantly relaxed upon realizing you didn’t think he was a complete pervert. Every laugh you released was like a weight off of his shoulders, and that was when he knew he could not shove his feelings down anymore.

Hours had passed, and you two ended up watching the sun fall by the lake while sharing a cherry red and white striped blanket. Not a word was whispered as you rested your head against his shoulder, his curls dripping onto your skin. He couldn’t help but smile as he felt your slow inhalation of the crisp air.

Once night arrived and the cicadas started chirping, it was finally time to break the comforting silence.

“I’m gonna go shower.” You said while slowly standing up and letting the towel drape off of your body.

“Me too.” Luke replied, getting up and placing the towel back on your shoulders so you wouldn’t have to brace the chilling breeze in a swimsuit. As you walked away, he couldn’t help but stare.

“Wait, I need to talk to you once you’re done. Meet me in the Hera Cabin after we’ve showered?” He called out after you, to which you nodded in response.

He needed to confess how he felt about you immediately, or his chest might actually explode. He needed to tell you about how his heart raced every time your touch lingered a second too long, how he ranted to Annabeth every night about the things you did that made him swoon, and how he was madly, head over heels, in love with you.

Once the musk of lake water had fully washed off, you headed to the infamous empty cabin, where Luke was waiting. His hair was still wet from the shower, causing his curls to separate, and he fidgeted with his fingertips while anxiously waiting for your arrival.

“You okay, Castellan?”

“No, I’m not, actually. I need to tell you something, like right now.” He stuttered out, his lip crunched up like he was in pain.

“You’re scaring me a little, but I’m all ears.”

“I love you.” Luke blurted out, the tension in the air increasing significantly with just three words.

“What?” It seemed as if the world had stopped, even the birds quieting down for a listen.

“I’m in love with you.” He repeated, like it was no big deal, like it was second nature.

“You love me?” You whispered out, almost like it was unheard for you to be loved.

“More than anything.”

You swallowed, thinking for a second while he awaited a response.

“I love you too.”

With the conformation of your words, he leaned in until the tips of his nose rubbed against yours. His lust-coated eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, making it apparent what he wanted. Luke breathed in your fresh scent heavily while watching and waiting for a reaction—for you to pull away or do something.

Trailing a hand up into his hair, you delicately pushed his head until your lips met. His skin was honey-sweet as you gingerly kissed; it looked like something out of a romance movie. He forced himself to be a gentleman and pull apart after a few seconds, no matter how much he wanted to kiss you until his oxygen ran out.

Looking up into his eyes, you craved more. This built-up tension between you two was finally erupting, and it needed more than just a little kiss to be satisfied. So, you took charge and feverishly leaned in for more.

His hands cusped your cheek, carefully avoiding any boundaries you might have set up. That was until you snagged his bottom lip with your teeth, and he lost all self-control. The sweet kisses turned into a full-blown make-out session as he steadily snaked his hand down your torso and to the fat of your ass.

Only breaking for air when absolutely necessary, passion filled the atmosphere, along with hushed moans from the both of you. Luke warily trailed his hand upwards to your chest, and you could tell where this was heading. Panting, you removed your lips from his and spoke up.

“I’ve never.. I’m still…”

“Me too. Do you.. still want to?” He revealed, his heart racing while still daintily grazing your skin.

“Yes. Please.” You desperately nodded, like death was approaching if you didn’t continue. With that, he laid you down on the squeaky mattress of an unused bunk bed and hovered over.

“Gods, you look stunning.”

୨୧

part two in progress…

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#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x you #luke castellan angst #liv’s writing !#pjo series

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imsosleepyofyourbull · 11 hours

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I firmly believe that Kabru is autistic but masks so hard that he’s convinced himself and (almost) everyone around him that he’s neurotypical.

That man’s special interest is people and how they work, but he just thinks it’s him Being So Good At Socializing — like he doesn’t spend 95% of his time people watching and adjusting his personality in response to the traits he witnesses and obsessing over the intricacies of human interaction while mapping an ever growing relationship chart in his head. For fun. He even admits it in the manga!

Like, look at him!!!

It’s such a shame that — because he’s the narrative foil to Laios and his interest is generally considered more “socially acceptable” in both their world and our own — more people don’t realize this about him. He’s constantly misinterpreted as a horribly manipulative person who only acts the way he does to use the people around him, when that’s explicitly shown to not be the case at all. Kabru is naturally empathetic and is almost always thinking about other people, regardless of whether or not they’re right there with him or a thousand miles away.

I mean, his most defining motivation is his desire to do everything he can to avoid another tragedy like the one at Utaya. Someone who doesn’t care wouldn’t have a goal like that, and they most certainly wouldn’t go about it the way he does. He’s constantly working to help people who can help everyone else and tries so hard to make sure that anyone who seems like a threat is actually someone he needs to worry about before doing anything about it. His supposed aversion to Laios is only because of the ridiculous trolley problem he’s set up in his own head.

Outside of that, he (rather justifiably) hates monsters but is desperate to understand Laios’ love for them and his apparently most selfish goal in getting close to the guy was literally just to become friends with him.

When he’s interacting with the canaries and they imply that they’re going to take him and all of his friends to the West, his first thought is of Rin and how much she’d hate to be stuck in the place that gave her so many bad memories.

He helps Kuro learn Common when Mickbell is asleep and firmly looks forward to the day that the half-foot and Kuro can communicate properly so that their relationship can get properly started without any miscommunication.

And he understands Mithrun with only a handful of weeks AT BEST interacting with him, getting enraged when the elf seems to give up and immediately trying to help him find a new motivation for life.

I’m excited just thinking about the day that Kabru starts unmasking more and more around his friends — both new and old — because if being with my current friend group has taught me anything, it’s that hanging out with anyone so unabashedly themselves is bound to make you more comfortable with yourself too. It’s part of the reason why I like Labru so much! There’s something nice about imagining them hanging out in the throne room or laying in the grass outside and talking for hours on end about their special interests. They might not strictly understand what the other finds so fascinating about monsters or people, but they can grasp that shared feeling of love.

They probably influence each other in really good ways too, with Kabru helping Laios figure out what people are thinking even when it doesn’t make sense or Laios helping Kabru understand that not everyone and everything needs to be analyzed a thousand times over. They both get to learn that there are people like them and people who will love them without them ever having to change a thing about themselves. They deserve to know that they’re fine the way they are.

#I have so many more thoughts about these two #like how Laios is actually the one who couldn’t really care about people outside of his immediate friends and family #that his love is the one that would burn down the world if it meant the people he cared about got to be as safe and happy as they should be #always as themselves #never as the corrupted versions of them in their nightmares or by the winged lions distortions #which is how Kabru would learn to be more selfish and needy #encouraged to act on his own desires and help other people at the same time #these two have ruined me #especially Kabru #because I’m predictable and my other two favorite characters are Tachihara Michizou and Nara Shikamaru #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi kabru #kabru of utaya #dungeon meshi laios #laios touden #dungeon meshi rin #rinsha fana #dungeon meshi mickbell #mickbell #dungeon meshi kuro #kuro #dungeon meshi mithrun #mithrun #labru

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hwaslayer · 1 day

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love you in slow motion (psh) | four.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist ♡

—summary: seonghwa will go through hell and back for you, as long as he can continue to see that smile on your face. because to him, that smile feels like a rainbow after the rain, thewarmth of the sun on a winter day. because to him, you’re more than just his bestfriend—you’re love. even though everyone seems to see that except you.

—pairing: park seonghwa x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriends to lovers | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 10k

—chapter warning: cussing/mature language, alcohol consumption, intoxication, club scene!, twerkin buns at the clurrrb 🤪, kissing/making out, quick rundown of oc's history with mingi, physical altercation, mention of small injuries/wounds (lip cut), arguments, crying, the silent treatment 💀, hints of a hookup, oc x seonghwa just being a mess per usual sorry 😫 lol

"Are you still riding with me and Joong to the club?" Seonghwa puts your call on speaker while he sits in the passenger's seat of Hongjoong's car.

"Yeah, if I can."

"Can we head over then?"

"Sure. I'm still getting ready."

"We figured." Hongjoong chuckles in the driver's seat, turning into a lot. "What do you want from Egg House?" Seonghwa inches the phone away from his face when you squeal loudly and clap.

"Double egg toast, please!"

"Okay. We'll be there in about 30 minutes or so."

"Thank you!" You hang up the call first and Seonghwa lets out a breath, slouching further in the seat.

"It's so easy to please Y/N." Hongjoong laughs, finding a spot in the opposite end the lot closest to the shop.

"Sometimes."

"San ever tell you about their dinner?"

"Not really. Y/N did. A bit. She was being kinda weird about it, actually."

"Hm." He hums, figuring if it was gonna come from someone, it would be him. "That's probably because they talked about you."

"Me?" Seonghwa furrows his brows in confusion. "What about me?" No wonder you were being so weird about the topic at the aquarium. You couldn't tell him the full story, even though Seonghwa wished you would've. It'd make things way easier.

"What do you mean 'what about you?'" Hongjoong laughs as he heads to the self-checkout area to order. "These unspoken feelings, that's what."

"What did San say?"

"He asked if you two had anything going on with each other."

"Why is that a question when there clearly isn't?"

"Mm, well.." Hongjoong's response has a drip of sarcasm that has Seonghwa

"He didn't have to do that."

"He just didn't wanna get in between anything, of course he had to." Seonghwa is silent and he's biting his tongue because even though he has a rebuttal ready to slip— he's not entirely sure why he'd be defensive and fight back about it.

Hongjoong and San were right. It's not like everyone wasn't aware. The only person who seemed to be was you.

"I don't know what Y/N said. But whatever it was.. was enough for San to just back off."

"He shouldn't give up on her."

"Him or you?" Joong laughs. "I mean they're still going to be the same. Good friends. I don't think anything was lost. They're probably both comfortable this way, too. Maybe that's just how it's supposed to play out." Joong shrugs. Which, it isn't much of a surprise to Seonghwa when he hears this, especially when you started talking about the potential of ruining things—

♡ FLASHBACK

"As friends. Like we always were." You tug on his wrist. "Hypothetically speaking, if we were to date, would that ruin things between us?" Seonghwa swallows the lump in his throat before shaking his head.

"Why would it ruin things between us?"

"I don't know, because we've always known each other like this. As bestfriends. It could be a dangerous thing, right? Cause we'd know too much about each other or whatever." You look up at him, and he locks his eyes with yours. He wishes he could say everything and nothing at once— but he sticks with the latter, his own example of keeping everything at bay.

"I truthfully don't think it'd ruin anything."

"B-because I feel like it would and that's why I'm just letting things be with San."

"You sure that's it? Cause I feel like you're asking for a different reason, and not for San in particular."

♡ END

"Hate when you do that."

"Hate when I'm right and you're wrong.. again?" Seongwa finishes plugging in his order and yours before checking out.

"I got it since you're driving today." Is all he responds before snatching the receipt.

"More gas money for me." Hongjoong snickers, plopping onto a high stool off to the side of the restaurant to wait for the food.

"Did San say anything else to you?" Joong shrugs and shakes his head.

"Nah. But, he seems to be the same."

"Gotta talk to him." Seonghwa mainly mutters to himself. He just wants San to be okay because he didn't want this idea of you and him getting in the way [despite his feelings]. That was never his intention. But before he can fall into a rabbit hole with his thoughts, his name is being called and a bag full of food is being pushed his way. Joong is already on his way to the car, unlocking the doors to hop in and drive off to your place with a quickness— especially because he was hungry.

When they arrive at your place, they pass through the house to say their hello's to Yaya with Seonghwa handing off the extra sandwich he remembered to buy for her. She happily thanks them before waving them off, telling them that you're probably still getting ready in your suite.

"Hey!" Seonghwa knocks and yells. "Are you decent or whatever?"

"Yeah! Come in!" He hears from the other side just as he tugs on the doorknob. Walking in, he notices a few pieces of clothing scattered along your bed and couch, with you head deep into your closet.

"The hell are you doing?"

"Finding an outfit, what does it look like?" Your response is mumbled as you dig deep into the depths of your closet to find that black cotton mini skirt and a few tops. "Got it!" You hold up a bodysuit and a regular tank in the same color. "Body suit or tank?"

"How the hell are you gonna pee?" Hongjoong asks mid-chew. "Unbuttoning that coochie holder while drunk is crazy."

"You're sick, Kim Hongjoong."

"Nah, tell me. How is that gonna work?" Seonghwa silently takes out your sandwich and plops next to him on the couch.

"He's got a point. I'm not going into that bathroom to save you."

"Ugh." You groan, tossing the bodysuit aside and settling for the tank. "I'll figure out the rest later." You plop next to Hongjoong's free side. "Thank you for the food." You smile over at them.

"Hwa bought it." Hongjoong's eyes are glued to the TV.

"Thank you, pichu."

"Mhm." Seonghwa responds from his end.

"Why are San and Woo going separately?"

"San has to help his uncle with something and it might run a bit long. Woo offered to go with him so he wouldn't be alone."

"Mm." You hum. "Hope it doesn't go long."

"Aw. You miss Sannie?" Hongjoong playfully pouts and you hit him on the bicep.

"You're so fucking mean to me." Joong laughs loudly when you continue to whine, Seonghwa contently eating away while watching the show.

"You guys good or what?"

"Yeah, I just want all of us together."

"We will be, don't worry." Seonghwa chimes in and passes you your food. "Eat. I know you'll need like 500 hours to get your makeup and hair done." You glare at him before picking up the sandwich and digging in. You, Joong and Hwa continue to talk amongst each other while watching the TV before you gather the strength to finally get ready for the night. You turn on your bluetooth speaker, blasting your playlist while you get dressed and get your makeup going. Seonghwa has taken a few pregame shots with you in between, now sipping on a canned cocktail to keep him going while you finish up your makeup and hair. You take one more look at yourself in the mirror, satisfied with the oversized black denim jacket, mini skirt, tank and knee high heeled boots you threw on. Your makeup was simple, but enough to pop.

"Damn." Hongjoong teases, playfully checking you out and flattening his brows with two fingers while Seonghwa rolls his eyes. But, he has to say— he's fucking dying inside because of how fine you look tonight.

So fucking beautiful, and Seonghwa wishes he could have you all to himself.

"Go away." You laugh, walking through a cloud of perfume. "I'm ready!"

"About time." Seonghwa teases. "You look good." He breaks contact as he shuts off your bluetooth speaker and is the first to head out the door.

"Thanks, pichu." You shut off the lights and lock your door. "Do you have the bottle?"

"Make sure to hide that shit in the car, I'm not getting pulled over." Hongjoong says, unlocking his car. You hop into the backseat and tuck the unopened soju bottle aside— keeping it safe until you get to the club.

It's a 20 minute drive before Joong is circling the streets to find a good spot. When he finally gets lucky and finds one just a block down, he reverses into the spot flawlessly before shutting off the car and giving off a deep sigh.

"Have at it." He says, texting San to find out his whereabouts while you and Seonghwa continue to pregame some more and finish the bottle. The alcohol is hitting you quickly tonight, the soju being the cherry on top. Joong tells you San and Wooyoung have parked nearby, giving you all the greenlight to meet them halfway and walk together to the club.

You [drunkly] scream loudly when you see the two; running into their arms and letting them swing you around. You feel happier when you're all together, excited for what the night has to bring. You cling onto Seonghwa without realizing, the group behind you two as you walk side by side while engaging in conversation.

"Seonghwa! Why would you say that!" You and Seonghwa laugh loudly while walking down the street to the club. San can't help but divert his attention to you two ahead; watching as you naturally joke around, laugh and playfully bicker. You cling onto Seonghwa and continue to attach yourself to his hip, and the reality settles for San even more.

He is sad, but it's clear this is where you're supposed to be.

Seonghwa continues to tell you his story, leaning in to tell you delicate details even as you fall in line for the club. San realizes things surely haven't changed, because for you and Hwa, all you see is each other. You both don't ever purposefully make anyone feel left out, but at the end of the day, Hwa was always going to prioritize you and vice versa.

This is your own world and San only plays a little part in it. And that's okay. That's completely okay. You deserved to be happy and that's all he wants for you. All he wants for Hwa.

When security finally checks your IDs and lets your group in, the club is packed from wall to wall and you're having to hold Seonghwa's hand while navigating through the crowd. Hongjoong is behind you, gripping at the belt loop of your skirt to help lead the other two trailing him.

"Aye, over there!" Hongjoong tugs on your belt loop and points at the free bartender towards the other end of the club nodding with his lips while nodding. You take the hint and get Seonghwa to navigate to the free area. Once you're there, you feel like you're able to breathe, being able to spread your arms and move around freely.

"Let's go get some drinks from the bartender over there, it isn't busy." Seonghwa points to the small bar area towards the back end. Your group follows, instantly asking the bartender for a few shots of tequila, whiskey, whatever each chose as their own poison.

The shots are taken to the neck, and before you know it, you're dancing away on the dance floor with your friends. Wooyoung manages to grab a few dances from cuties nearby, dragging San along to cheer him up and find someone he could possibly have fun with. But, amidst all that and all the numbers he manages to grab, he still finds himself looking for you so he can at least have a dance.

"Y/N?" San comes to you, cheeks tinted red as his hand caresses at his jaw.

"What's wrong, Sannie? Are you okay?" You look up at him with those eyes, your hand on his bicep. You're both clearly drunk out of your minds but jesus, is he having trouble containing himself.

"Y-yeah." He hiccups. "I just wanted to ask if you'd dance with me?" You giggle and nod.

"Let's go!" You grab his hand and take the initiative. At some point the crowd builds and you're separated from your group— Wooyoung floating somewhere out in the chaos, while Hongjoong and Seonghwa are pulling further and further away. You continue to dance with San though, enjoying every moment and having fun while with him. He keeps up with your rhythm, holding you close but making sure you still have enough freedom to move however you want, have space however you want. But, you continue to work on him and dance along to the music, forgetting any worries for the night.

You dance with San for a good chunk of time before you start searching for Seonghwa, who is no longer nearby. You catch wind of him, but your body decides this is the perfect time to break the seal.

"I need to go to the bathroom." You turn to San and tippy-toe to his ear.

"You okay? Want me to come and wait?"

"No, I'm okay. I'll be back." You give him a small reassuring smile before rushing off to the bathroom and waiting in the tiny line that had formed outside the door. You're in and out within 5 minutes, washing your hands and patting your face down with how stuffy the club had gotten. After handling your business in peace, you realize that Seonghwa and Hongjoong are even more separated than you thought when you exit the bathroom— no longer being able to spot them on the main dance floor, especially due to being inebriated. You finally find Wooyoung and San together, tugging on Wooyoung's sleeve to grab his attention.

"Where's Hwa?"

"Iono!" Wooyoung shrugs. "Last time I checked he was somewhere over there with Joongie." He nods in the far back corner behind you. You give Wooyoung's arm a squeeze to thank him before pushing your way through the crowd towards the potential Hongjoong and Seonghwa spot. When you get there, Hongjoong is definitely nowhere to be found, but Seonghwa is talking to some girl. He's leaning in towards her ear in order for her to hear him, and she laughs at whatever the fuck he's saying. It lowkey kinda irks you, even though you have no reason to be feeling that way. You should be happy Seonghwa is putting himself out there and flirting away at the club.

Not feeling jealous or envious in the least bit that she is occupying his time and space.

"Hey." You come up to him just as she giggles and playfully flips her hair, turning on her heels to walk away. She gives him one last look before she sways her hips and continues walking towards her friends, all of them squealing over the encounter in the middle of the club. "I see you've been busy." He shrugs.

"That's the girl I met. Makayla." You subtly roll your eyes and tap his chest.

"Okay, well I've been looking for you." You kinda pout.

"What's wrong?" He tilts his head.

"Nothing, I just wanted to hang out with you and I couldn't find you for the longest time." He laughs.

"You were dancing with Sannie, weren't you?" He taps your nose. He says it like it's a light, teasing joke, but deep down, Seonghwa had to step away and get outta that spot. He's not gonna lie, he is relieved you're finally looking for him and finding him.

"So?" He laughs.

"Well, you found me? Stop pouting. We came here to have fun and you're gonna be with me all night." He gently runs a finger down your bottom lip that is still poking out in a pout.

"Where'd Joong go?"

"Bathroom."

"Let me grab San and Woo—" Seonghwa tugs at your hand just as you're about to turn, a small frown on his face. As you look at him, not only do you realize how drunk you still are, but you can also pick up on how drunk Seonghwa is, too. His eyes are red and glazed over, cheeks also tinted with a rosey hue.

Which, with the way he's looking at you, can't be a good thing.

This won't end well.

And you truly do not care right now.

"Uh-uh, I thought you wanted to hang out for a bit. Dance with me." He says, pulling you flush against him while his teeth subtly nibble on his bottom lip.

"Hwa." You get all shy and unlike yourself, most definitely from the alcohol and the way he's looking at you up and down. You let him keep you close, beginning to dance against him and go with the beat of the current song blasting through the club.

To set the record straight first and foremost— it's not like you haven't danced with him before. You have, and those times have been careless, free and fun. You didn't have a care in the world, Seonghwa didn't. It wouldn't last because it was harmless fun before you were onto the next and brushing it off like it was any ordinary thing between you two.

Because it was.

Tonight, it isn't. The air is different, and the energy between you two is supercharged; strong, an incredible pull to each other. The air is extra thick and like no other you've experienced with him. You can't really explain it right now, but with recent events, you just know you want Seonghwa.

Just like he wants you.

So you dance, and you dance. The two of you have pushed to the farthest corner of the club that Hongjoong never seems to return to Seonghwa [or maybe he did and didn't wanna bother] and the two of you are left in your own little world. He's still keeping you close, a tight grip on your hips as he feels every inch, every move against him, doing his best to keep up with the rhythm, you.

And god, is it turning you on.

You turn to face him when the song transitions into the next, finding that Seonghwa can't take his eyes off of you. He stares through his hooded lids while he rests against the metal railing, hands still at your hips while your face is only inches away. You watch as his eyes shoot down to your lips, back up to your eyes as if he's begging, pleading, you to make the first move. Because that will be the confirmation he needs— that will open up a whole new box that Seonghwa had been waiting to open, break the lock to a door he had been waiting to walk through. But also, he's too scared to make the first move. Too scared he'd be overthinking, that you're just drunk and you wouldn't mean it—

Suddenly, the impact of your lips crashing into his quickly pulls him out of his thoughts. Instead of breaking away at that moment, the kiss instantly becomes heated, deep. And Seonghwa has to forcibly pull himself off of you because even though he wants this so, so badly, it'll ruin everything if you truly didn't mean anything by it.

"What're you doing, Y/N?" He breaks away and leans towards your ear. His voice is husky and deep, loud enough to barely be heard over the music.

"I can't kiss you?"

"Not if you don't mean it." He bites onto his bottom lip when he pulls back to look at you, hands still resting on your waist.

"Who said I didn't mean it, Hwa?" You say in his ear, shivers running down his spine when he feels your lips graze your jaw. He probably should think about this, really think about this, but he can't. He's just as fucked up as you are, and he's feeling a bit selfish, a tad bit horny. You're positioned in between his legs looking beautiful as ever even under the dim club lights.

He can't help himself.

He cups your cheek as he pulls you back in, kissing you with so much more fervor. He hears you let out a content sigh in between kisses, pressing your body up against him as you grip the sides of his shirt.

"Driving me crazy." He says, pulling back and letting his nose lightly glide over yours. The both of you are slightly panting, lips swollen from all the intense kisses just shared. You'd do it over and over again, though. And if it were up to you, you'd take this home to explore a little further.

You want Seonghwa.

"Am I?" You continue to tease.

"Y/N." He gives you a look. "You have no idea what you do to me." His voice is still husky, deep; vibrating through your ears and sending tingles down your spine. He leans in for another deep, last kiss; biting onto your bottom lip and tugging back before letting it go. He dips to your jaw, to your neck— painting the surface with feathery kisses and tiny, subtle bites.

"Hwa, we're still out." You giggle and gently tap his chest.

"Right." He sheepishly smiles and continues to hold you.

"I'm gonna grab some water real quick. We should try and find everyone when I come back."

"Let me just come with you." He grabs at your hand.

"I'll be fine, pichu." You smile toothlessly at him. "I'll be back before you know it. Try to text one of the boys! Save our space!"

"Fine." Seonghwa slightly whines as he lets go of your hand and watches you walk off. At this point, San, Wooyoung and Hongjoong find him without Seonghwa having to lift a finger— both San and Wooyoung carrying two glasses in their hands.

"Aye! Finally fucking found your ass. Where's baby girl? Got more shots." Wooyoung looks around for your familiar figure.

"She went to get water."

"I got it right here. Tequila water." Wooyoung snorts at his failed attempt of a joke.

"You're an idiot." Seonghwa shakes his head and takes the glass, holding onto it while looking around the room. It hasn't been long, but he's hoping you haven't been swallowed by the crowd and are at least at the bar requesting for water.

"Let's wait for Y/N." San adds.

"Sounds good with me." Wooyoung shrugs.

5 minutes quickly turns into 10 and you're still not back from your water run. Seonghwa can't help but be worried, eyes now frantically scanning every inch of the room to catch any glimpse of you.

"Damn, that's a long water break. Should we just go to the bar and find her?" Whatever Wooyoung's saying is completely drowned out by Seonghwa because he finally spots you, and he's fuming. Everything in the club seems to drown out, and it almost feels like white noise. Hwa finds you at the opposite corner of the bar, and of course, Song Mingi would be the person you're occupied with. That's why you haven't returned, of fucking course. He continues to watch from his spot, feeling unsettled from the entire situation. It starts off pretty normal, until Mingi starts whispering near your ear; doing his best to pull you close, keep you close. He sees you gently rejecting Mingi's touches, shoving off his hand and pushing his arm away— clearly making you uncomfortable. Seonghwa finds his free hand balled into a fist, already boiling with anger at how Mingi doesn't read any of your signs.

Instead, continues to put you through it because he's your ex. He thinks he can get away with it. He knows he can.

"I'll be back." Seonghwa says taking the shot in one swift motion, setting his empty glass aside on the high table nearby. San furrows his brows as he watches him leave, following his trail over to the opposite end of the club.

"Oh shit." San says under his breath, and Hongjoong is confused.

"What?"

"Mingi." He points over to the other side of the club and Joong lets out a sigh, followed by a heavy—

"Fuck."

As Seonghwa comes from behind, Mingi is the first to spot him and smirks. You don't really notice until Mingi has stopped trying to get close to you, turning over your shoulder to see your own bestfriend shooting daggers his way.

"What's up, Seonghwa?" The way Mingi says his name is so fucking annoying, Hwa can't help but roll his eyes. Mingi leaves out his hand in hopes of Hwa taking it in a friendly dap. All Seonghwa does is look at it before returning his attention back up to him, then back to you.

"Come on. Let's go." Hwa mutters as tries to gently drag you away by the wrist, but Mingi stops him.

"Woah. We were just having a conversation."

"Back up." Seonghwa steps in front of you and tries to get Mingi to back up, creating some distance between you two.

"Kinda rude for someone to intervene when they have no business to."

"Didn't know that required you to put your hands on her."

"Seonghwa." You warn, but he doesn't listen.

"Of course." Mingi laughs and licks his lips before closing in on the distance, clearly drunk and trying to be belligerent by provoking Seonghwa. His face is only a couple of inches away from Seonghwa's, but he isn't doing anything to back down from whatever the fuck Mingi is trying to start. Because yeah, he's drunk too, and this is you they were talking about. "Wanna be all high and mighty now? Be the knight in shining armor you always tried to be?" Mingi snickers.

"Back away from me, Mingi." Seonghwa warns lowly. "Step the fuck away."

"Or what? The fuck are you gonna do about it, Seonghwa?" Mingi mutters. "Think she'll finally give into you?" He chuckles pathetically. "Finally give you what you've been wanting for years? I know you've always been mad because you couldn't bag her when I did. Couldn't touch her, fuck her like—" Seonghwa pushes him with so much power that Mingi stumbles and fall back on a high table nearby, knocking over a glass as his arm hits the table. Mingi recovers quickly though, glaring at him as he pushes Seonghwa back and tries to land a punch on him. Mingi successfully lands it when Hwa fails to dodge, cutting the corner of his lip after the impact. They continue to go at it, causing people to step back and watch the chaos ensue from around.

"Hwa! Get off! Stop!" You scream, trying to pry him off. San, Hongjoong and Wooyoung rush over, both San and Joong having to separate the two until the bouncers come and kick your group and Mingi's group out of the club.

"Jesus fucking christ." Wooyoung glares at the bouncer and throws his hands up. "Okay, okay, we're going!"

"Let me catch you, fucking punk!" You hear Mingi yell as him and his group walk down the opposite block, the bouncers still keeping an eye on your groups to make sure nothing occurs outside of the club and requires police activity. You walk a few steps before you push Seonghwa by the shoulder, forcing him to look at you as he tends to his lip.

"What the fuck did you do that for?!" You look at him and Seonghwa's almost taken aback by your reaction.

What do you even mean?

He did this to protect you and keep you away from that asshole, but you don't even seem the least bit concerned about him.

At all.

"W-what?" Seonghwa looks at you, his chest rising as he tries to calm himself from all the adrenaline and anger.

"You didn't have to do that!" You yell, on the verge of tears. You're angry at Seonghwa, but you're angry because you hate seeing him hurt. You hate that he intervened, you hate that he's hurt because of the fight. You're angry, you're hurt, and everything is coming out all wrong. "I was fine, you didn't have to get in between, Seonghwa!"

"The hell you mean I didn't?!"

"Hwa." Hongjoong calls for him, eyeing the bouncers nearby.

"He wasn't doing anything!"

"Here you go again! Be serious for once, Y/N. He's a fucking asshole! When are you going to realize that?!"

♡ FLASHBACK

"Yeah, whatever. Fuck you, Song Mingi." You walk out of his room, aggressively wiping the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Fucking crazy. Get the hell outta here!" He yells from his room, causing you to flip him off as you walk down the hallway and out of his front door.

Song Mingi was a certified asshole.

Time and time again, your ex-boyfriend of 2 years proves to you that you just aren't shit to him. Two years, then an on-and-off again situation where Mingi just couldn't commit to you again — but he needed you to feel wanted, to feel like he had a safety blanket to fall on, to feel like he could string you along until that very last moment he couldn't. He'd whisper sweet nothings whenever he saw you late nights; no longer leaving his home to go on dates, but to stay wrapped up in his sheets. Telling you things he knows will make you weak, thing he knows will make you stay a little longer. All these years of this back and forth game you played with your ex, you had no idea why you couldn't just learn and do better for yourself instead of letting him reel you in, making you think he genuinely wanted and needed you.

There was no one like you.

You, so perfect.

You, made just for him.

You should've known better.

This was no one else's fault but your own. You let him in, you let him in, you let him in. And you fall for it every single time, knowing you were never going to be his one and only again, knowing you weren't the only one he was keeping around. But for whatever sick reason, you wanted to believe you could get him to change again. You wanted to believe you meant more to him, that your history meant more to him. But that's all it was— wishful thinking.

Empty words built on shaky foundation.

So here you are, after he had called you saying he had missed you and wished you were near him. Here you are, crying everything you have left in you after giving him what he wanted. Here you are, after hearing that this wasn't anything to Mingi, that you weren't anything to Mingi. Here you are, broken to pieces, empty, soulless.

Again and again.

"Fucking asshole." You groan to yourself, tears streaming steadily as you head down the street from his building to a random corner. You sit on the sidewalk, kicking aggressively at the rocks beneath your feet. You give one last good grunt out of frustration before you rest your arms on your knees, head hanging low to let all your tears fall freely.

You had been crying so hard that you hadn't realized a car had pulled up in the empty spot near the curb you sat on, car being turned off before someone steps out and shut their door. You suddenly feel a hand on your back and you instantly ease up, knowing exactly who that touch belongs to.

"Hwa." You look at him, watery eyes blood shot red. He can't help but feel sorry for you, you're aware. You can tell by the way his brows soften when he sees how torn up you are, you can tell by the way his lips poke out because he isn't really sure what else he can say at this point. He shouldn't have to say anything anymore. He shouldn't be here—

You shouldn't be here.

"I told you to stay put." He teasingly scolds you, but you continue to look at him with that sad, pathetic look. "Let's get home, hm?" He follows up, free hand coming to wipe your tears away. You nod, allowing Seonghwa to help you up and into the car. He doesn't really say anything when he gets in and buckles his seatbelt, but he glances over at you, watches as you sink in the passenger's seat and look out the window.

He hates it, and he wishes he could do more to take this away from you. To keep you away from Mingi, to take away your pain completely.

It's not the first time Seonghwa's had to come get you. He's almost losing track of how many times you've called him crying because you wanted to leave a party after seeing Mingi flirting around [even though he'd deny it time and time again]. The times you've called because he left you at parties to hang out with other people, other girls. The times Mingi has disrespectfully called you out your name mid-argument, gaslighting you into thinking you were in the wrong.

Seonghwa's only hope is that one day, you'll finally get tired of your ex and move on. Leaving Mingi where he belongs, especially when he couldn't even give you the proper respect. Mingi's only reasoning for breaking up with you was that he couldn't do this anymore, he couldn't do the relationship anymore. He just couldn't, and you knew what he truly meant— it just wasn't you anymore.

And for months and months, you sat there wondering what you could've done differently, or if there was a sign that you had missed. Every time he called, it had you thinking he must've realized he couldn't do this without you, that he was wrong and that he did want this after all.

Nope.

He made you believe it for a night, yes. Then, he'd go back to reminding you what you actually meant to you— that you were delusional, that you kept forcing things between him. That you knew what this was.

You should've known what this was.

♡ END

"He wasn't even doing anything! Not shit you needed to step in between for! He was literally—"

"Oh my fucking god." Seonghwa groans. "And you're still defending him!" He yells, his brows furrowed when he turns to look at you. He feels like he can barely breathe due to the anger surging through his veins, plus the betrayal he's feeling with the way you're delivering your responses. The way you look at him. The way you're keeping your distance.

After everything, it still seems like you're taking Mingi's side. You always find a way to defend him one way or another, even if you don't realize it.

Seonghwa does, and it hurts.

"I'm not!" Your tone is louder. "I could've taken care of it myself, he wasn't doing anything!" You repeat.

"He was making you uncomfortable, Y/N! All up in your space, trying to force you to do shit when you didn't want it. Yet, you wanna tell me he wasn't doing anything?"

"I'm just saying it wasn't that big of a deal, Hwa! I could've handled it!"

"Really? I doubt that."

"Wow, are you serious?" You say, hurt. But, he scoffs and continues because you need to hear this.

"I am. You always let him push you around and walk all over you. I thought by now you'd be smart enough to realize that you're worth much more than that." His tone rises again. "Why do you always let him do this to you? You're so used to the way Mingi treats you and you do nothing to change that. You always let him in. You're so brainwashed and you literally have no respect for yourself, it's fucking sad."

"You know nothing about our relationship." You're crying and angrily wiping away at your tears, unsure of how else to act, what else to say. Sure, you and Seonghwa have gotten into petty fights and arguments. Mostly over dumb shit, but nothing ever this serious. You know he cares, and he means well. But this anger, this seemingly pent up frustration— you aren't entirely sure where it was stemming from. You have never seen him act this way and quite frankly, this part of Seonghwa is very difficult to navigate.

You've never had to.

"Yeah, because I wasn't the one rescuing you in the middle of the night every time he decided to throw your ass out, right? Because I wasn't the one having to calm you down when you were crying? Because I wasn't the one whose had to pick up the pieces every time he broke your heart to try and chase after somebody else? When he says all those shitty things about you that get to your head? When he'd fucking leave you stranded?" He shakes his head. "I'm sure I know nothing about your relationship." The two of you are staring at each other, both at a loss for words after everything has been laid out on the table. Seonghwa is the first to break, having enough of this bullshit and not wanting to say anything else. Mostly because he still cares about you and your feelings, and it's breaking his heart to see you crying over him this time. "I'm done here. I'm sure San will take you home."

"Whatever, fuck you." You respond before turning on your heel to walk away. As soon as you've created enough distance between you and Seonghwa, you find yourself stopping in your path to sob into your hands. It isn't until a few minutes later that you feel hands on your arms, a familiar touch that belongs to somebody else dear to you—

"Hey, let's get you home." San says, with Wooyoung behind him. You can't see much due to the tears in your eyes, but you can tell it's Hongjoong walking alongside of Seonghwa, making sure he's okay and pushing him along towards the car.

"He'll be okay. Just needs some time to breathe." Wooyoung adds, holding out his arm so that you can slip yourself right underneath while walking to San's car. "You alright?" Wooyoung pouts, wiping some of the straggling tears escaping your bottom lids.

"Mhm." You lie, just to keep the walk quiet and peaceful. And it is for a bit, even as you sit in the backseat of San's car. The only thing filling the space is the music playing through bluetooth— Wooyoung's playlist, actually. San peeks over at you through the rearview mirror, feeling bad for how everything went down. But, he gets it. He gets Seonghwa. You do deserve better. Mingi should never get an ounce of your attention after how he's treated you— esp with Seonghwa being here all along.

"You know he just really cares about you, right?" San breaks the silence.

"I know." You mumble, head leaning back against the seat while you look out the window. "I've just never seen him act that way."

"It's Mingi." Wooyoung adds. "Can I be honest?" He turns to look at you with doe eyes. "I'm not trying to attack you, I promise. We see both sides." You nod quietly. "It's hard when you have history with someone, and it's hard to undo bad habits you've learned in the relationship. We know Mingi was someone special to you, but he hasn't been good for you for a long time. And there's no changing that man at this point. If it's anybody, Seonghwa knows all of that very well, especially when he's been by your side throughout everything." Wooyoung lets out a small sigh. "I'm certain he's hurt because even after everything he's done to be there, Mingi's actions seem to be dismissible. And his actions get overlooked."

"Woo, I'm not even dismissing Mingi's actions."

"Okay, baby girl. You're not. But, I think Seonghwa would have appreciated if you were there for him tonight instead of getting upset. He just wants to keep you safe."

"His goal has always been to keep you safe." San adds softly, driving towards your place.

"I didn't want Hwa to get hurt, h-he didn't have to do that." You sniffle, leaning your head against the window.

"You know he's not gonna sit back and let that shit happen." Woo adds, also leaning his head back against the headrest— a small headache forming after tonight's events. When you finally get home, San and Wooyoung offer to stay the night to keep you company, but you politely decline. They walk you to the door and give you big hugs, asking you a million times if you're sure about being alone tonight.

And you quietly nod.

Because there's nothing else you'd rather be than alone tonight. You want to be alone in your own space, crying alone in your bed; head against the pillow, tucked underneath your sheets.

You want to be alone.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa is struggling. He isn't sure what to do, hates not having you by his side. He doesn't know what's gonna happen from here on out, what will be left of you two after all this.

From the kiss, to Mingi, to the argument.

It's so fucked up.

Seonghwa hadn't even realized how much of his life was dedicated to you— how much of his life was just you. Even when he tried so hard for it to not be you.

"Fuck!" Seonghwa groans and slams his hand against a brick wall in passing.

"Aye, come on now." Hongjoong clicks his teeth and pushes him away from the wall, urging him to continue down the car. "Don't hurt yourself."

"I swear to God if I ever see Mingi—"

"You won't. He should know better, and hopefully Y/N does, too." Hwa lets out a hefty sigh as he swings Joong's door open and plops into the passenger's seat. Not much is said between the two, even as Hongjoong drives off to his place. Seonghwa rests his head back and shuts his eyes, equally angry, yet dizzy from the alcohol still running through him.

"I don't know what to do, Joong. I can't keep doing this just for it to get me nowhere."

"You two really need to fucking talk." Hongjoong does a slight head tilt as he continues to drive to Seonghwa's place. "I don't mean to make this worse, but I saw you two." Seonghwa looks at him before resting his head back against the headrest again. "I didn't come so I could give you guys some space."

"Fuck." Hwa repeats again with a heavy sigh. "Yeah, I don't know where this leaves us."

"Give it a few days or whatever, but you need to figure this out with her." Seonghwa doesn't speak anymore, mainly because he's starting to feel nauseous after the adrenaline, the alcohol. He's doing his best to keep it together. But, on top of that, he has a ton of thoughts swirling in his mind— he doesn't really know how to tackle them or where to even start. In the end, he's afraid of what this will do to your relationship.

You and him.

In the end, he just doesn't know anymore.

This is the longest Seonghwa hasn't talked to you. It's been a little over two weeks— usually, the two of you would break in a few hours, not wanting to be without the other for long.

But this, this was different.

Of course, everything felt awful. You both felt awkward about having to be the first person to break the silence, both remembering that night and how heated it had gotten.

The kiss.

The argument.

Everything about the situation felt like doom, chaos. A whole whirlwind of emotions and feelings overpowering each other, threatening to burst at the seams.

Seonghwa had thought long and hard about this, though. For him, he decided he just needed to step back and give himself a breather. Let him do things for himself, carry on with the mentality that he'd finally put himself first. So, that's what he's been trying to do. It doesn't mean it doesn't suck, though. It does. It's terrible. He's gotten so used to having you by his side, so used to running to you first about anything and everything.

He's had to bite his tongue when he finally nailed that fucking uni pasta recipe he had been experimenting for years. Because he wanted to tell you he did so, wanted to invite you over so you could be the first to taste it;

Oh well.

His heart sinks when the realization hits him again, and he's having to give himself a 'lil pep talk to push through. He can't be the person to say sorry first, he can't be the first to break— not when he didn't do anything wrong. He needs to stop apologizing when he's not in the wrong or when he feels bad. He's given you way too much of that, and this time around, he wasn't going to.

He needs you to be the first to break. Needs you to be the one to say sorry. Needs you to show him you understand and that you would never intentionally hurt him, especially over Song Mingi.

He's still counting the days. Maybe he'll have to keep doing so. Gives him time to himself, some peace. Let's him know how much you'd truly work to salvage your relationship with him.

Your own bestfriend before anything.

Because he knows he'd do anything to keep you by his side. He would. It just sucks that he doesn't know if you would do the same. He can't confidently say the same.

But, you absolutely would. Days and nights have passed and you could barely sleep, always questioning what Seonghwa was doing and if he was even thinking about you. This was on you, though. You knew it. You just didn't know how to say it to him and it's definitely a learning lesson for you— all in all, you wanna be better and you wanna be better for him. You miss Seonghwa a lot. You truly didn't know what it meant to be missing your other half until now;

Empty, alone.

Cold.

You sigh as you toss the pillow aside and sit up in bed, checking the time on the clock.

3am.

You couldn't sleep, and you freeze. You freeze because you have no one to call anymore. So you turn, and turn. No longer able to find sleep for the rest of the night.

When the sun finally rises, you force yourself to get up to go for a run and grab a good cup of coffee and breakfast. It was your day off, but you thought you could at least take advantage of being up early; take advantage of soaking in the morning sun.

You were tired of sulking and being in bed. Being cooped up at home when you weren't at work.

You throw on your leggings and matching sports bra, grabbing an oversized zip-up to shield you from the morning cold. Yaya is already working in the kitchen, so you quickly let her know you'll be out for a run— rushing over to your car to avoid any questioning this early in the day. You drive over to a lake near town that has a 4.5 mile trail around its perimeter. Since it's still early, the trail isn't crowded with people; perfect enough for you to get a good 3 mile run in. You hadn't ran in a minute, but 3 miles seemed to be a breeze when there was a lot of pent up frustration and anger you needed to release. Of course, you were beyond tired at the end, but it wasn't anything coffee and a good pastry couldn't fix.

At the cafe, you grab a seat right outside of the entrance to enjoy your breakfast, scrolling through social media per usual. You click into your messages for god knows why, knowing Seonghwa hadn't messaged you.

He hasn't.

Why would he?

You sigh, the sadness now returning. You quickly clean up and toss your trash into the bin inside the restaurant before grabbing your cup of iced coffee and heading home. Once you get home, you throw your clothes into the laundry and take a hot, steamy shower, letting your worries go momentarily.

And then, you nap. Exhaustion finally hitting you from the lack of sleep.

Post-nap, you take time to clean around your suite and hang out with Yaya, watching a few episodes of her current favorite show. You help Yaya with a few things around the house, taking the time to bring her to the grocery store just right before the sun sets. Even though Yaya can tell something is wrong, she doesn't bother you or question you like you'd expect— probably leaving it for Soyeon to do the heavy lifting. You do appreciate that you don't have to dwell on it while spending time with her, though.

Soyeon, Charli and Junseo had visited the past days, and although Charli was able to make you smile and laugh, Soyeon could also easily tell something was wrong without you having to say anything at all. Your demeanor had changed, you seemed to be snapping quicker than usual. Attitude wasn't so bright and happy. Seonghwa hadn't been around, but the other boys had quickly stopped by just to hang out.

You dimmed it down to a 'little fight between you and Hwa,' but Soyeon knew better than that, and she was hoping she'd be able to get it out of you soon. This wasn't like you, and it wasn't like Seonghwa to not come around for days on end.

This wasn't just a little fight.

"Hey." She calls you when you're settled back in your humble abode, and although you don't mind hearing from your boss-slash-cousin, you could do without any work-related conversations right now.

"What's up? Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm leaving the restaurant soon. Yoongi and Junseo are going to close up. It's gotten quiet. Can I stop by? I have some food for you."

"Sure. Where's Chacha?"

"With Junseo's parents."

"Mm." You hum. "Okay."

"Okay, I'll be there in about 30 minutes or so. I'm just gonna wrap a few things up here."

"Sounds good." You hang up the call, a bit relieved that your cousin [not your cousin on boss-mode] is coming over.

When she arrives, it's about 7:45pm. She quietly knocks before announcing her presence— stepping out of her shoes before joining you on your living room floor in front of the coffee table and TV. For a good part of the conversation, you indulge in some of the chicken she brought over, listening to her update you about the restaurant and some drama on his side of the family. She asks if there's anything new going on with you or the boys, and you simply shrug.

This is definitely her way of poking at you, and you're very close to cracking because who else can you open up to about this?

No one, and at this point, you need to. You need the reassurance.

"Are you sure nothing's up? To be honest, I know something's bothering you, and I know this wasn't just a 'little fight' between you and Hwa." She forms air quotes. That's the moment you do crack, tears welling in your eyes when you revisit that night. You tell Soyeon everything and confide in her, giving her more details about your dinner with San, to dancing with Seonghwa and kissing him, to Mingi and their fight. You tell her it's been about two weeks since you've spoken and you know Seonghwa is waiting for you to make the first move.

You tell her how you've started to realize your feelings for Seonghwa after everything and how incredibly terrified you are of them.

"I don't know what to do, Soyeon. He probably hates me."

"Just go over there and talk to him, Y/N. What are you waiting for? You know he's waiting for you to take initiative, and you should this time. This is all you." You sigh, bottom lip trembling as you begin to cry.

"I know."

"You know Seonghwa the best. It's so obvious how much he likes you and adores you after all this time. Why are you so afraid?"

"I know, I know." You sniffle. "I just am, Soyeon. I'm afraid of getting hurt, I'm afraid of Seonghwa realizing this isn't what he expected. I'm afraid of Seonghwa." You cry a bit harder and Soyeon is holding you close, rubbing your back as you lean against her shoulder. "I'm scared of this ruining us completely. What if we do get together and things don't pan out the way we expected? I'm so scared of losing him completely that I just don't know where I lie in all of this despite my feelings for him."

"You can't be afraid about every little thing, Y/N. I know it's scary, and life hasn't been entirely nice to you. But, this is your bestfriend. You can't just sit around and brush it under the rug when you know this is something you two need to discuss. Regardless of what happens, Seonghwa will never let you go. You two have been through so much together, he would never wanna do life without you by his side. Never." She continues to reassure you, giving you the push you need to get yourself together and just face it.

You loved Seonghwa, and it was time you looked beneath the surface.

Soyeon didn't stay too long after the two of you finish eating last night— turning the conversation into something more lighthearted after you cried and thanked her for being there for her. Her reassurance worked so much that you're ready to tackle the morning bright and early, throwing on some clothes to head over to Seonghwa's place. After Soyeon left, you called Wooyoung and asked what time Seonghwa's shift was for tomorrow. He snorted and told you it was 10am and asked what you were up to. You let Wooyoung know about your talk with Soyeon and that you missed him, finally throwing the stupid shit aside to just try and talk to him about that night.

To apologize, to make things right.

To tell him that you love him.

You keep it casual and comfy, throwing on some black and white wide-leg track pants, a crop tank and a baggy grey zip-up hoodie. You throw on your shoes, swiftly grab your keys and crossbody bag, jogging out to your car with a quick 'good morning' yell to Yaya from the side of the house. As you drive over to Seonghwa's apartment, you are equally filled with anxiety, nervousness and adrenaline. You're ready to put this behind you, but you're especially ready to talk to Seonghwa again. See him. Hug him.

Keep him close, never let him stray far again.

You pull into a guest lot, shutting off your car and wondering if you should've brought over some coffee, breakfast, anything, to make this a bit less awkward.

"Fuck." You mutter to yourself as you shake the thoughts from your head; no time for overthinking while you're running on limited time. You jog up the steps and up to Seonghwa's apartment, hesitating when you get to the front door before you finally bring your knuckles to the surface to give a couple of loud knocks. It takes a second before you hear rustling behind the door, Seonghwa clearing his throat before he swings the door open in a white tank and sweats. Your eyes immediately meet his, but he looks surprised, caught off guard even.

But, caught off guard in a sense that he's been caught doing something he shouldn't be doing.

You don't understand it until you see someone in the back try to slip by unnoticed, but she's wearing Seonghwa's shirt. Your heart immediately sinks to your gut and it makes you feel queasy. It shouldn't, but you hate to say it does.

It's probably Makayla.

It's too fucking late.

"Oh." Is all you say, and Seonghwa feels his heart break to a million pieces when he sees the look on your face. You're trying your hardest not to show how much it hurts you, but he knows you. He knows you well, that's for damn sure.

"Y/N—"

"It's good, I didn't meant to interrupt, I'm sorry— I'll catch you later." You ramble and rush down the steps, hurrying away from the apartment to prevent Seonghwa from seeing the tears streaming down your cheeks.

This was your fault anyway, who else was there to blame?

"Y/N!" Seonghwa calls out one last time, but you're already running to your car. Very obvious that you're wiping away at your face as you sink into the driver's seat and pull out of the spot without turning back. "Fuck." Seonghwa groans to himself, and Makayla kinda just watches everything unfold right in front of her eyes. He runs a hand through his long, black locks, shutting the door quietly behind him as he turns to her and gives her a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry."

"That was Y/N?"

"Uh, yeah. My bestfriend." He looks at her, and she can already tell. She can already tell that it's you, and there is more to it than that. He loves you, and it's very, very obvious.

"You love her, don't you?" He lets out a breath and shrugs. He doesn't say anything for a bit, rather looks at her with those big doe-eyes before she catches him subtly nodding and diverting his attention to the floor.

"I'm so, so sorry, Makayla. I really am." What the fuck else can he say? He must look so fucked up right now; having taken her out the night before and let her spend the night after fumbling in the sheets. He was curious to see if Makayla would be the door to a new path, something that'll help him move forward. He had hope. After this morning's events, that clearly wasn't going to be the case and he wasn't going to lie about it.

"Don't be." She gives him a small, toothless smile. Because although it does suck, she's been there before and she'd hate for Seonghwa to miss out on the person he truly wants to be with. "You should really talk to her before it's too late."

♡ FLASHBACK | EARLY COLLEGE

You're on Seonghwa's back as he trails behind the group, walking up the path to the view of the city behind campus. Hongjoong, San, Wooyoung and a few other heads had wanted to go on a late night walk— the goal being the view at the end for everyone to just sit and admire. At first, you didn't feel like going with a bunch of obnoxious boys. But, you had been cooped up in your room doing nothing but studying all day. It sounded better knowing Seonghwa would be around and being in the crisp, night air.

Seonghwa continues to walk up the slightly steep hill before spotting the view just down the street, you jumping off his back as soon as it becomes clear in sight.

"Hwa! Look at it!" You squeal, running to one of the free areas near the fence to get a good picture of the view. "It's so pretty! Look!"

"Yeah, it is." He catches his breath as he walks over next to you. Trekking that hill is not for the weak.

"Oh my god, look at all those lights. It's so beautiful. I didn't realize how flat the town is." You're mainly thinking out loud, saying it to yourself, but Seonghwa chuckles next to you and quietly nods. "I think I can see our favorite convenient store from here, and our favorite spot to get jajangmyeon."

"How would you know, they're little blobs right now."

"How would you not know, Seonghwa? Are you a fraud? Do you even like those places like you say you do?" He snorts.

"Relax, Nancy Drew. It was just a question."

"I just know." You say so matter-of-fact-ly that Seonghwa smiles to himself while you continue to look out at the view. "The stars are so pretty tonight, weather is so perfect. Ugh. We should do this more often." You continue to go on and Seonghwa just likes listening to you talk. He always has, always will.

Everything about you was his favorite.

"I— what?" You look up and see Seonghwa still staring at you before he lets out a deep chuckle.

"Nothing."

"Pichu, what is it?" He looks at you again, and it's obvious he wants to tell you something but is preventing himself from spilling it out onto the table for whatever reason. You turn towards him and cross your arms, tapping your foot to wait for his response.

"Nothing! I'm just— nothing."

"Park Seonghwa."

"I-I—" He sighs. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm glad you ended up going on the walk with us. I wanted you here."

"Aw, you little sap." You pinch his bicep and he yelps. "Are you sure that's all?" He nods.

"Thank you, Y/N. For everything." He ruffles your hair and you can't help but pout at. "You know? For being a pain in the ass bestfriend."

"I beg to differ, but you're welcome." You chuckle. "Always us, right pichu?" You playfully punch him on the bicep before returning your attention back to the view.

And he'll forever remember this as the first time he tried to confess his feelings for you.

♡ END

♡ taglist: @hwasbabygirl @fairyofhueningkai @chngbnwf @tinyteezer @everyonewooeverywhere @pearbunny @mxnsxngie @starhwahwa @woosmaid @yeosangsbbg @jycas @lyracarvahall @huachengsbestie01 @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs

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jo-speaks · 2 days

Text

arcade

in which…

Quinn takes fem! reader on a date to the arcade!

note: first imagine in the ‘alphabet date’ series! hope you enjoy <3

“All I’m saying is I plan on beating you at everything tonight.” Quinn said, his hand resting on your inner thigh.

You and Quinn hadn’t gone out in a while due to the playoffs, so you decided to go out to the arcade downtown. You figured it would be a good way to enjoy each other’s company, while also letting him blow off some steam with some friendly competition.

“Whatever you say.”

Soon enough, you had arrived at the arcade. Since it was pretty late in the day, the place was decently crowded. Not that either of you cared, but Quinn wasn’t really in the mood to socialize with anyone he didn’t have to.

You gave his hand a tight squeeze as you entered the building. Right away, your eyes were met with bright, colourful lights. You turned your head to look at Quinn and he was already looking at you.

“Ready to get your ass beat?”

“I should be asking you that.” You smiled.

~✩~

After three rounds of bowling, two rounds of laser tag, and a bunch of other random games, you ended up with a smile on your face, and Quinn ended up with a pout.

“What is that? My tenth win of the night?” You asked, waving a hand full of tickets in front of Quinn’s face.

He rolled his eyes playfully, “Whatever. Your refusal to play the basketball game with me says a lot.” You furrowed your eyebrows, “Let’s go, Hughes.”

His face contorted into a grin, grabbing your wrist gently as he tugged you towards the hoops.

Before you two could scan your arcade card, Quinn felt a tap on his shoulder. You both turned around to be met with a group of four girls, who couldn’t have been any older than sixteen.

“Excuse me, could we get a picture with the two of you? We’re big fans.” One of them asked.

Quinn smiled, “Yeah, sure.”

They smiled and giggled, handing their phone to a stranger who had kindly offered to take the photo. Quinn wrapped his arm around your waist and smiled, as you did the same. “Thank you so much. And Y/N, we love your outfit.”

“Thank you!” You replied, their compliment making you smile like a kid in a candy store. They walked away smiling, huddling around the phone to analyze the picture.

Quinn placed a quick kiss to your cheek as he kept his arm around you, “They were nice.”

You smiled and leaned into his hold, “Yeah.

Suddenly, he stepped away from you. He quickly scanned the game card on each machine and pushed a button that released all the basketballs in front of you both. He started shooting the balls towards the hoops before you could even process what was happening, still stunned from how fast he managed to switch up.

“You cheater!” You laughed, grabbing a basketball and shooting it towards the hoop in hopes of catching up.

Quinn chuckled, “I had to win somehow!”

His cheating managed to work, his final score being 25 and yours was 13. As he proudly got his tickets, you pulled out your phone to take a picture.

Quinn stood up holding his first batch of tickets from the night. He pulled you in close and pressed a sudden kiss to your lips. He was never big on PDA, so you pulled away in curiosity.

“What was that for?” You asked sweetly.

“I’m just really happy with you. Thanks for coming out with me tonight.” He smiled as he looked down at you.

You smiled at his words and tugged on his hoodie collar to bring him closer to you. You pressed another soft kiss to his lips, letting this one linger the slightest bit longer.

“I love you, Quinn Hughes.”

His cheeks became a light red, “I love you too. More than you can imagine, Y/N L/N.”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #nhl #quinn hughes imagine #nhl hockey

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burntheedges · 2 days

Text

good

Clint (Freaky Tales) x gn!reader | 18+ | 2.4k words | masterlist | ao3

summary: Clint only comes to see you when he can’t stay away any longer.

a/n: this is for @iamasaddie’s (kinky) writing challenge 3.0 (prompt: Clint, choking). so from what we know about the movie so far, Clint is trying to get out of the business and be with his (new) family. This is set earlier, before he has those aspirations (and before he has that girlfriend, from what we know – or maybe you are the girlfriend 🤷🏻‍♀️).

When I got this prompt, I was a little intimidated, I won’t lie. And then @katareyoudrilling said ‘what if Clint is the one being choked’ and here we are.

tags/warnings: gn!reader, reader has no description, enforcer/debt collector behavior, reader watches Clint threaten someone, established d/s relationship, kink negotiation and discussion, choking (muscle, not airway), dom!reader, sub!Clint, pet names (sweetheart, sugar), there's no smut here

...

Everyone in the neighborhood knew who the man was, even if they had never spoken to him. It was safer that way. Safer to be able to recognize him, to know the slope of his shoulders, the angle of his brow, even from a distance. Safer to stay out of his line of sight and hope he wasn’t there for you.

It didn’t always go the same way, but there were some things that happened every time like clockwork. From your window you could see how they moved out of his way on the sidewalks and the way they turned their faces down when he passed. You’d noticed a long time ago that no one ever dared to meet his gaze. And when he slowly came to a stop next to his target, whoever it was that day, you could always feel how the entire room hushed and seemed to look away even as they turned their full attention to the show.

It was getting late, already early evening, when the man came around the corner at the end of the street. You were sitting at your desk in the window that gave you the best view, just for moments like this. You recognized him instantly – plaid shirt, dark jeans, face drawn down in a scowl.

He was an imposing figure in the twilight. He stalked forward down the road, every movement telegraphing danger and stay away, if you know what’s good for you. A few teenagers scattered out of his path and regrouped behind him, whispering. A couple of guys on the stoop of the building next door turned inward towards each other, avoiding his gaze as he passed. One teenager coming up the road from the other end of the block crossed the street to avoid him, and then crossed it back again when the man crossed it, too. They needn’t have worried, though – the man barely spared the teen a second glance as he yanked open the door to the diner across the street and stepped inside.

You could see everything that happened next through the panel windows. The man looked right, scanning the crowd, and then left. He must have found what he was looking for, as he continued to the left without even a glance towards the host. Every table he passed ducked their heads, avoiding his gaze. Everyone else in the diner ducked their heads, too, pretending they weren’t watching his every move, just in case.

The man came to a stop next to the third booth from the door. There were two men sitting in it, facing each other, and both shrunk back from him as he leaned forward, pressing the tips of two fingers into the table top. The man’s shoulders were loose, posture open and unassuming, but you knew it didn’t fool anyone in the diner. It definitely didn’t fool you. The violence was still there, lurking under the surface.

You could tell that he was speaking to the guy on the right side of the booth, who had shrunk back so far he was leaning against the wall of windows. There was no way you would be able to hear them from your apartment, of course, but when you saw the man lean in just the slightest bit, you leaned in, too. You imagined it wasn’t going well.

What the man did next confirmed your guess. He moved, suddenly, lightning quick, snapping his left hand out to haul the target up by his shirt front. The man lifted the guy bodily from the booth and shook him, just once, before dropping him back down on the cushioned seat. He bounced and curled back in on himself.

The man’s right fingers were still pressed into the table top. He finally removed them to pull a piece of paper from his back pocket. He held it up between two fingers, right in the target’s face.

It was at this point that the target started to cry.

The rest of the diner turned away, but you kept watching. You watched as the man held his hand out, watched as the target dug in his pockets and produced his wallet. Watched as the man snatched it, pulled out some cash, and tossed it back on the table. Watched as he counted it, shook his head, and said something that made the target shake his head violently.

The man sighed, looking weary. He said something else, just one last thing, and turned on his heel and left.

Something in the way he moved caught your eye.

You tilted your head back against your window and started to smile. You gave it 45 minutes, maybe an hour, before you knew you would hear the knock on your door.

…

You were right. The knock came 49 minutes later and you opened the door to find him standing there in the same outfit you’d just seen through your window. Broad shoulders tugging at his plaid shirt, dark jeans, hair slicked back. Frown and furrowed brow firmly in place.

“Clint,” you greeted, tone even. “Done terrorizing the neighborhood?”

Somehow he frowned harder. “Let me in.” His voice was gruff, low and strained.

You tilted your head as you crossed your arms and leaned against the door frame of your small apartment. “That was quite a show, in the diner,” you replied, ignoring his request. “Big tough guy, huh?”

He sighed and closed his eyes, suddenly looking exhausted. He shook his head. “Just a job, sweetheart. You know how it is.” His tone was closed off, cold.

You regarded him for a moment in silence. You knew what you were looking for, but he wasn’t always in the mood to give it to you. Wasn’t always able to give it to you, even though it was what he came here for. Even though it was what he wanted. You watched as he fought with himself, jaw tight, hands clenched into fists.

But then he shook his head and made a noise low in his throat. Some of the tension went out of his shoulders and you saw something familiar start to appear in his posture. You smiled.

“Please,” he murmured, ducking his head and running his palms up and down his thighs. “Please, can I come in?” His voice was still low and gruff, but the tone had shifted. He was settling into it. He needed something, and he needed it from you.

You were more than happy to provide.

“Come in, then.” You pulled the door open the rest of the way and turned to walk back towards your bedroom. You knew he would follow and you smiled to yourself, small and hidden, when you heard him lock the door and slip his boots off in your entryway.

“You know what to do.” You turned when you reached your bed and settled on the end of it. Without another word he came to kneel in front of you. As he settled into position, a low moan rumbled from his throat and you fought a smile. “Look at you. How long has it been? Two weeks? Three?” You clicked your tongue. “Too long, I think.”

Clint hummed and closed his eyes when you reached out to touch his hair. You took that as confirmation.

“Why do you make yourself wait like that, sugar?” You murmured and watched the way he shivered at the pet name. “Why do you do that to yourself, when you know I’m here for you? Knowing just what you need?” You slid your hand down the side of his face until it came to rest on his jaw. When he didn’t answer, you tapped him sharply on the cheek.

“Answer me, sugar.” Your voice was firm, but warm, and you knew it was a struggle for him to let himself sink into it the way he wanted to. The way he needed to. You could see the struggle playing out across his face.

“I…” he cleared his throat. “I don’t…” he trailed off and you tapped his cheek again. His eyes flew open and you bit back whatever sound you almost made at the sheer exhaustion, sheer loathing you saw in his gaze. You knew none of it was directed at you.

“You don’t what?” You prompted, fingers dancing down the side of his throat.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m a piece of shit. You know it, I know it.” He shook his head. “I don’t deserve it,” he muttered, voice low.

Quick, but not as quick as he’d moved back in the diner, you dug your fingers into his hair and tugged. His head tilted back and his mouth opened around a rough gasp.

“Sugar. You know how I feel about it, when you say things like that.” Your voice was still warm but your grip was hard and you could see the tension leaving his shoulders. We’re getting there. “Tell me.”

Clint cleared his throat and leaned into your hand where it gripped his hair. “I–” he cut himself off abruptly and tried again. “I deserve it.” He was breathing hard, suddenly, like he’d run a long distance before falling at your feet.

“Deserve what, sugar?” You lifted your free hand to cup his cheek even as you kept your firm grip in his hair with the other. You knew he didn’t want to say it, but you knew he also needed it. Craved it. He’d get it out, even if it felt like pulling the words through a throat made of glass shards and a million regrets.

“I deserve to be…” he trailed off and you tugged at his hair again. His eyes were closed and you could see him fighting it. He took a haggard breath and said, by rote, “I deserve to be cared for. I, hmm, deserve warmth.” You tugged again. “And peace.”

You hummed and loosened your grip. “Good.” He sighed, tension leaking out of his form, eyes still closed.

You’d agreed on the words early on, when you’d negotiated what would happen between you. There were things he wanted, things he needed, things he wouldn’t let himself have. Things he didn’t think he deserved.

You wanted to show him that he did. It was all you’d wanted, from the first time you’d done this for him. With him.

“Very good, sugar,” you repeated. He moaned, quietly. You smiled. “Can you tell me what you need?”

Clint shook his head, brow furrowed again.

You nodded. “Alright. I’ll give you some options, ok?” He nodded quickly and you smiled again. “Good.” You trailed your hands through his hair and down his arms until your hands circled each of his wrists. “Do you want to be tied down?”

He shook his head again and made a low noise of disagreement.

“Thank you, sugar.” You skimmed your hands back up his arms to his throat, where you wrapped them loosely with no pressure. You murmured, voice low, “is this what you want, then?”

You felt his pulse pick up beneath your fingers before he nodded.

“Mmm, good.” You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “It’s been a while, so we’ll go slow. Just three times. I’ll count it out and you’ll tell me how it feels, after. Right away, each time.” He nodded and you traced your eyes over his features. His expression was already bordering on bliss when you tapped his cheek again sharply. “Yes?”

His eyes fluttered open and you saw the mingling of his hope and desire and fear and need behind his gaze. “Yes, please. I will.” His words fell out around a moan and you smiled.

“Good.”

You moved your hands into position slowly, steadily, watching his expression as you did. His hands moved to rest on your ankles as he shuffled forward between your knees.

Your left hand tangled in his hair and your right slipped around until you were cupping the back of his neck in your hand, finding a firm grip with your fingers on one side and your thumb on the other. You pressed down just enough to find the column of muscles along his lovely throat and smiled.

“Be good for me, sugar.”

He nodded sharply.

You pressed down with your fingers into the muscle of his neck, tightening your hold. You felt him tense and then almost slump into the hold, all tension leaving his body at last.

Quietly, you counted to five, and then slowly released your grip on his neck. When your fingers slid loosely from their positions, he cleared his throat. “I feel–” he hummed. “I feel good.”

“Very good, sugar,” you praised, running your fingertips up and down his neck. You saw the corner of his mouth twitch towards a smile. “Here we go.”

You moved your fingers back into position and squeezed again, grip firm on the muscle of his neck. He moaned, this time, clutching at your calf muscles to hold himself up. You counted to five and when you released your grip he moaned again, low and soft.

“I–” he trailed off and shook himself. “I feel so good.” His voice was low and gravelly and you could hear the wonder in it. The wonder at how well you took care of him, every time.

“Thank you, sugar.” You combed through his hair with your left hand and hummed. “One more. Yes?”

He nodded. “Please,” he begged, barely a whisper.

“Ok. Last time.” You moved your left hand to rest gently on the front of his throat, just so he knew it was there. With your right gripping firmly around the back of his neck, you squeezed again, just a little bit firmer this time. The way you knew he liked. You counted slowly to five.

Clint was silent. You could see him falling into himself, into your hold, even with his eyes closed. When you released his neck he sank onto the floor and to the side, sitting instead of kneeling. He sucked in a sharp breath. “I feel–” he stopped, nothing else forthcoming, and you gripped his face firmly in both palms.

He blinked his eyes open. His gaze was hazy but full of only wonder and desire, all fear and loathing chased away under your firm hand. “I feel so fucking good,” he whispered roughly.

You smiled at him, holding his face between your palms. “You are so fucking good, sugar.”

He whined, eyes falling shut again, and leaned forward until his forehead came to rest on your thigh. You ran your hands through his hair again and ghosted your fingertips over his neck where you’d just held him.

You leaned forward until your lips brushed his ear as you murmured, “thank you for being so good for me.”

...

a/n: I'd love to hear your thoughts. 👀 and let me know if you don't want to be on the tag list!

tag list: @harriedandharassed @jupiter-soups @ilovepedro @auteurdelabre @anoverwhelmingdin

@myloveistoolittle @iknowisoundcrazy @beezusvreeland @screechingphantommaker @bigboiseason123

@joelalorian @untamedheart81 @ashleyfilm @jessthebaker @jeewrites

@fluffygoffpanda @paleidiot @mithicakurogo @theclairvoyage @lizzie-cakes

@islacharlotte @syd-djarin @copperhalfcent @vabeachazn @spacedoutdaydreamer

@littlevenicebitch69 @secretelephanttattoo @pigeonmama @vickie5446

@glizzymcguirex @verymiraclemiracle @friskispunk @jennaispunk

#clint (freaky tales) x reader #clint x gn!reader #clint (freaky tales)#pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #x reader #clint (freaky tales) fic #clint (freaky tales) fanfic #little lady kinky may

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vampzity · 1 day

Text

a distant memory | ateez

"i know you’re somewhere out there, somewhere far away." — talking to the moon, bruno mars

—✫ pairing: ateez x gn! reader

—✫ genre: angst, fluff??, ateez, one shot, ot8

—✫ synopsis: it’s been a year since the gang went their separate ways, however you can’t help but reminisce all the good times you shared. you constantly hope that one day, it’ll go back to normal again.

—✫ wc: 1.6k

[warnings]: mentions of scars, mentions of violence???, arguing, blood, accusations, yelling, cursing, name calling

—✫ a/n: i’m sorry in advance.. i seen these photos from the special and just felt a whole wave of nostalgia wash over me 🧎‍♀️

“.. and then we can all look through the photos again!”

You sighed heavily, going through the loads of videos and pictutes taken by the cam recorder. Every happy memory playing like a small scene from a movie in your head. No matter what you did, no matter how many times you watched these same videos, it never seemed to fill the empty void they once occupied in your heart.

It’s been a year since the incident, a hell of a year at that, and yet you still can’t seem to figure out where it all went wrong. Why such a tragic moment, broke the bond between you all.

“Y/n-ah! You walk so slow, let’s go!”

You smiled softly hearing Wooyoung teasing you. Even if it bugged you, you hated to admit that you missed someone bothering you every five minutes.

Seonghwa soon came into view, holding his own cam recorder toward yours. His soft laugh echoed through your ears as he made fun of you for recording him, even though he was doing it too. Jongho soon shoved Seonghwa out of the way, bringing his face up close to the camera as he sang to it jokingly.

“Does Jongho ever stop singing?!” Mingi teased.

It’s as if they’ve never left your heart. You looked onto your phone, seeing the groupchat still pinned on your messages. It was now a ghost town if a groupchat could even have one, and each member quietly made their way out of it. You however, chose to stay. So many memories, core memories, resided in that chat. From happy birthdays, to silly pictures that were sent amongst you all, to even the smallest moments of reassurance between members. You couldn’t just let all of that go, and you couldn’t let it go back then either.

However it pained you to see how easily the rest of them let it be. Were they even feeling the way that you were? How could they just up and leave after years of memories that were engraved into your heads.

The moonlight shone through your window. It was fuller today, just as it was that same time ago. You looked up at the moon, a few tears escaping your eyes.

Were they too, looking up at the same moon?

You felt crazy for thinking that any one of the boys missed not just you, but all of them as much as you did. You knew that somewhere out there, the boys were going on with their lives normally, having to carry the weight of that night with them just as you did.

Where did it all go wrong? Was it your fault? If you hadn’t stood against San like that, would you all have worked it out in the end? However, it wasn’t your fault. All you wanted was to stop the arguing, only for it to resort to violence.

You played with the cam recorder, holding it to your face as you sobbed. As much as you wanted to forget about that day, you knew you never could be able to. So many things reminded you of them, which then reminded you of that day. Scars you obtained from your fight with San still remained, even after they healed. Not even your body could forget.

“y/n-ah!”

You lifted your head, seeing the video turn to San as he waved to you. A smile stretched across his face as he grabbed the camera from you, turning it to face the both of you. You pouted at him as he kept it at a high angle, unable to take it from his hands.

“Sannie, give me that back!”

You jumped up to reach it, as all the other members sat around laughing with San. You stopped jumping and punched his arm softly, the boys chuckling around you.

“Ah, you guys suck!”

You sighed heavily, laying down on your bed as you closed your eyes. It’s as if every time you closed your eyes, that very night replayed in your head. No matter what you did to avoid thinking of it, you couldn’t get it to stop. No amount of therapy was helping for that.

“San stop!!”

Seonghwa pulled San away as you all stood there in shock. Mingi laid on the floor, hands still protecting his face. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, only because it’s never gotten to a point like this. There was never a thought that crossed your mind over the boys arguing so bad, that they’d get physical.

Yunho helped Mingi up, his face bruised and nose dripping blood from the attack. Tears escaped Yunho’s eyes as he realized how bad the situation was getting. However it wasn’t just him, you were all unsure of how to help.

It’s been ongoing for weeks, where random members would break out into arguments and it would sometimes get physical. The more arguments that ensued, the more distant everyone became.

“This is getting out of hand! What happened to all of you?!”

You looked at all the members in horror, tears streaming down your face as they looked away from you. Hongjoong walked up to you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he tried to offer you some comfort.

“All you ever do is fight with one another, and when things get too far, you guys just resort to violence!”

Wooyoung stood up, an annoyed look on his face as he looked toward the members. Bandages covered his hands and cheeks, reminding you of the fight between him and Jongho just last week.

“She’s right. We all can’t keep going on like this.”

San scoffed, crossing his arms in disbelief as he stood on the opposite side of the room. He rolled his eyes, soon walking up to you and Hongjoong.

“So what? You never seen a group fall apart before?”

His voice rushed through you like cold water, giving you chills as you felt mini to him. No matter how afraid you were getting of the boys and their acts of violence, you refused to let it overtake you. Let alone, be obvious that you were growing afraid of them.

“Shut up.” You mumbled, your eyes straying from him.

He crossed his arms, leaning his face down to you. You felt his breath hit your cheek, making the hairs on your skin stand up.

“Suck it up. You weren’t even apart of our group in the first place.”

The room went quiet. Whenever arguments broke out, you were always the one maintaining peace between the members. Who would’ve known that was only a matter of time before you too have had enough.

“Are you just going to keep being hardheaded?!” you yelled out, pushing him harshly.

“Don’t push me, y/n.” San snarled, his voice low and raspy.

Wooyoung looked over at San, eyebrows furrowed as he wondered what was going to happen. None of the members expected this, especially not from you. When it came to you, everyone had their guard up as they weren’t going to let you be the one who got hurt from them.

“How many times do I need to get this into your head?!” You continued to pushed at San, punching his chest as you cried out.

“All of you! You’re all idiots! Can’t we just stop fighting?!”

San took every hit you gave him, growing increasingly aggravated with you. Tears steamed down your face as you continued to punch at him, wishing for the boys who once promised to never let arguing get as bad as it was now.

“God, quit it!” San pushed you harshly, making you stumble to the ground and hit your head.

He got ontop of you, holding your arms over your head as you struggled out of his grasp. His nails dug into your skin as he glared at you with a rabid look. Hongjoong grabbed onto his back, desperately trying to pull him off of you as he yelled into your face. Wooyoung grabbed onto his arm, using all his weight to pull.

“You’re the reason our group went to shit, you know that?! If you haven’t came in here being all pissy and flirting with all the members— slap!“

With the help of Jongho, he pulled your hand out of San’s grip, allowing you to slap him across the face. Everyone around you froze for a second, seeing your face red from anger and embarrassment after San’s words. San rubbed his cheek, eyes narrowed at you. He grabbed onto your hair, pulling you toward him.

“San! Let them go!! Stop!!”

Yunho rushed over to you, pushing San off of you as the other members pulled him off. It was a bit scary how much stronger San could be when he was angry. Wooyoung and Jongho pulled San off of you as he tried hard to fight back. Yunho held you in his arms, sitting in shock at how San just reacted to you.

“You fucking tramp! This is all your fault!”

Everyone froze, unsure of what to say, as did you. San has lost his mind, everyone did in their own way, though it seemed the group was far from saving at this point. There wasn’t much any of you could do.

You watched as San grabbed his things, making his way out of your home and slamming the door behind him. Silence filled the room, as you all remained speechless. Yunho continued to hold you as small tears ran down your face. What did this mean for you guys now? Was the really just the end of the people you called home?

The people your cherished and loved dearly, were no longer with you, instead living on their own terms. A year later, and you still remained without your home.

a/n: IM SO SORRY FOR THIS PLEASE DON’T KILL ME. listening to Empty Box while writing the ending of this made it even worse 💔 i love that song so much.

taglist: @skzline @rvereri @evidive @xoxkii @vrtualsins

@sanslovesblog @dvrktvnnel @scarfac3 @honeyhwaaa @sundaybossanova

@kittykat-25 @losrpark @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @aestheticjoonie @interweab

@roomsofangel @mingtinysworld @minghaoslatina @vnessalau

#—♡vampzity #—♡︎vamp’s soft hours #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez atiny #atiny #ateez angst #ateez oneshot

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fictionalmenmakemecry · 2 days

Text

Never getting over you

Characters: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: After a toxic split, you and Carmy had both moved on but a night of endless scrolling on social media brought back all the fever feelings you had for one Carmen Berzatto. You just want to check in on him.. That's all.

Warnings: None

Your eyes continuously moved as you mindlessly scrolled through your feed. People that you haven't spoken to in years, popping up, showing their recent adventures to another country or pregnancy announcements.

You could feel your inner envy growing seeing everyone hitting different milestones in their life. The struggle of trying to keep yourself level as you continued to scroll grew harder and harder.

Your eyes landed on one image. Everything stopped. Your twitching finger, fatigue eyes and even your breathing.

Your eyes never left his face. His soft smile that never conveyed how truly happy he was. Your started taking in other details of the photo. You finally realize what he was standing in front of.

The Bear

You finally let out you shake breath and started reading the words above the photo.

"Congratulation to my baby brother finally biting the bullet and going for it! Mikey would be so proud"

Even though it been a year since the split, you still had remained friends with Sugar. So, seeing this on your feed shouldn't shock you. But it did.

Memories flooded your mind of him talking about it. You would watch him as his mind tick along with so many ideas he had about The Bear.

You noticed that they went with the signage that you first proposed and you felt your heartache.

Sitting forward on the couch, leaning over his shoulder as he sat on the floor below you. His eyes scrutinized the font designs on your phone.

"Not bad.. I could see it" He murmured continuing to look at it.

A small smile crept up on your face. This was first of many things that you had showed him and that he actually liked.

Carmy was hard to impress, especially when he knew exactly what he wanted. Nothing could stray from his vision and The Bear was very much apart of that.

After all this, he had stuck with your idea. Even after the toxic and messy split you both went through. You didn't know where his head was today. With the The Bear up and running, probably full and unhealthily obsessed with it. The very point that broke you up.

You locked your phone and tried to convinced yourself that you didn't need to see it. You didn't need to visit it. You didn't want to accidently run into him. Or realize the past 9 month he has had a vice grip on your heart, making any date or protentional romantic interest pointless when nothing filled the hole he left.

The idea of him thriving without you, made you nauseous and left you in the dust of your own life. Which what scared you when you were with him and now you were feeling it anyway without him.

Before you knew it, you were across the street from it.

You stood still, taking in the warm hue of lights getting cast onto the street from the bustling inside. The narrow window gave you a hint of what was going on inside the kitchen.

But you couldn't see him.

You envisioned yourself going in and taking the empty table next to the window. Maybe even talking to Richie and congratulating him and then Carmy would....

You broke away from that train of thought when you realize how ridiculous it sounded. Carmy wouldn't do anything. He wouldn't give a shit. The way you were both wounded from the relationship probably have him running for the hills.

Your eyes caught someone coming out of the dark alley. A silhouette of a person with a head of hair that you knew too well. As they walked out further, the street light gradually bringing detailed to their figure.

You saw the end of their cigarette burn bright.

Both just stood there, looking at each other.

"Carmy?" You called out gently

Silence enveloped the street. His stare never leaving you.

"Yeah?" He replied flicking the end of his cigarette.

Apart of you wanted to just run across the street and see how he was doing. Ask him a million questions but your feet stood still and mouth stayed closed

"Cousin!" Another figure came out of the alley, Richie your presumed

"What?" Carmy tore his eyes from you.

Richie pulled him back inside, not noticing you on the other side of the street.

You felt your face turn red feeling like an idiot.

What were you doing?

You got caught. But that's what you wanted to happen. You wanted him to know that he was still on your mind. That nothing could shake the memories you had of him.

Every decision you made around Carmy was always the wrong one. it was a road that you knew too well and now it was starting again. After months and months of convincing yourself you don't need him. Your willpower unraveled just being around him.

You walked home feeling more lost than you have in months.

#fanfic #fluff #smut #fanfiction #love #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear #carmy x reader #chicago #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy smut #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #the bear fanfiction #the bear fx

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mingyuscoffee · 1 day

Text

the8 fic recs (may)

check out other members here

all credits go to the respective authors. this is a fic rec list and i do not claim to have written these posts. if you would like your writing removed, please let me know and i will erase it immediately.

FLUFF

"dove" by @cherryredcheol

ᡣ𐭩 minghao x fem! reader ᝰ fluff | 0.4k words | established relationship ➶ all the way minghao uses your nickname.

untitled by @cherrysnip

ᡣ𐭩 ice skater! minghao x fem! reader ᝰ fluff | 1.2k words | established relationship

"the idiots you date" by @gi4hao

ᡣ𐭩 roommate! minghao x gn! reader ᝰ fluff, slight angst | 1.0k words | roommates to lovers

untitled by @nonranghaes

ᡣ𐭩 minghao x reader ᝰ fluff | 0.5k words | established relationship

"sketchbook" by @seungkw1

ᡣ𐭩 minghao x gn! reader | college au ᝰ fluff | 3.1k words | best friends to lovers

"dances in the rain" by @shuastars

ᡣ𐭩 minghao x reader ᝰ fluff | 0.8k words | strangers to lovers

"whatever you want, my angel" by @wheeboo

ᡣ𐭩 minghao x gn! reader ᝰ fluff | 0.9k words | established relationship ➶ in which your boyfriend calls you a term of endearment from his native tongue.

"late night bite" by @wooahaes

ᡣ𐭩 non-idol! minghao x fem! reader ᝰ fluff | 1.6k words | co-workers to lovers

"art of attraction" by @yxlnst

ᡣ𐭩 idol! minghao x reader ᝰ fluff | 1.1k words | friends to lovers ➶ you and minghao explore an art museum for your first date. as you enjoy the art and talk, your connection grows. by the end, you both realize it's the beginning of something special.

COMFORT

untitled by @cxffecoupx

ᡣ𐭩 minghao x reader ᝰ comfort | 0.3k words | established relationship

"muse" by @waldau

ᡣ𐭩 minghao x reader ᝰ fluff, comfort | 1.4k words | established relationship

ANGST

"clarity" by @rebeccarose0315

ᡣ𐭩 minghao x reader ᝰ angst | 0.5k words | established relationship

SMUT

"deserve it" by @miniseokminnies

ᡣ𐭩 minghao x fem! reader ᝰ fluff, smut | 1.5k words | roommates to lovers

"pov" by @okiedokrie

ᡣ𐭩 non-idol! minghao x fem! reader ᝰ fluff, smut | 1.2k words | established relationship ➶ your loving boyfriend wants you to see what he sees.

"on the nose" by @onlyhuis

ᡣ𐭩 minghao x fem! reader ᝰ fluff, smut | 6.2k words | established relationship ➶ you're too shy to be on the nose about what you want. luckily, minghao's got you figured out... he even likes the fluffy tail, too.

"and stretch" by @xuhuihuis

ᡣ𐭩 yoga instructor! minghao x fem! reader ᝰ fluff, smut | 1.2k words ➶ after many attempts of trying to get a space with the top yoga teacher of the town you finally get your chance. there is much more of a bond between you both when it's just you both in the room...

all love to the authors! i enjoyed reading every single one of these writings! <3

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doesthendnlive · 3 days

Note

I'm so tired. Sorry for bad grammar or mistakes.

TW for rape/pedophilia/slavery/domestic violence/violence against Indigenous women and girls specifically

It makes me so angry we Sacagawea and "Pocahontas" are known our figure head Native "Women". If you want to go a litter further the fact that "La Malinche" is idolized as well in the same way. But we don't learn about their actual lives.

Why are public schools obessed with these pedophilic relationships between Native girls and old gross ass white males as "The country coming together" or a "unity between 'Indians' and whites'" or "the creation of our mestizo race" or whatever else.

Sacagewa was only 12 when her "husband" bought her, and 16 when he impregnated her. I didn't learn this until I looked it up and searched for it myself.

"Charbonneau was also known for his short temper with his wives. On August 14, 1805, Charbonneau struck Sacagawea during a domestic argument, and was told to stop by Clark. This one incident has led to Charbonneau's reputation as a "wife beater," although it was the only time during the expedition that this type of behavior was noted. Coupled with the rape incident described above, however, Charbonneau seems to have been a sometimes violent person with little regard for women Native girls . His consistent record of marrying Native girls under age 16 also makes one wonder about a possible need to exhibit power over women Native girls

Charbonneau is known to have had a total of five wives, all young Native American women girls whom he married when they were sixteen years old or younger. He may have had more wives who have been lost to the record, however. His last known wife, an Assiniboine girl, was 14 when she married him in 1837; he was more than 70 years old."

Matoaka was even younger if I remember right, the bastardization of her real life story and the fetishization of her story and Native women and girls beause apparently we're all from her people. The fact the "Pocahontas" even exists, the disregard for her actual story and scraping details out to make it more palatable.

Despite the fact the she didn't get to have palatable, she had to endure violence, forced removal, rape, and forced impregnation by her rapist(s). She didn't get to have that comfort or safety but everyone else gets to when 'learning' about her.

"La Malinche" or "Malintzin" (we literally don't know her birth name) was around 11-16 years of age when she ended up on the hands of Spaniards

What makes it worse in regards of "Malintzin" is that Hispanic Males fetishize the "Mestizo race" and the rape of Indigenous women and girls especially to create this race.

They only claim their Indigenous decent when it benefits them, while they are still actively anti Indigenous themselves and hate actual indigenous peoples/communities.

Argentina specifically, it's called chineo, criollo males are known for targeting Indigenous women and girls to rape/gangrape them. It's a old colonial practice that still happens to this day.

Im just so angry that our figure Indigenous "women" are just these little girls adultified into these grown women just to make people less uncomfortable with the power dynamic imbalance and pedophilic relationships and colonialism and colonization in general

Racist white males (Spanish, English, French, whatever flavour of white idc) love this idea of conquering Indigenous women and raping them. I heard way too many gross comments from old white males with rapey undertones to them about them being white and me being a Indigenous girl.

Or even them mocking the sexual violence we face, one of my ex white male friends mocked me for being abused when we got into a argument not related to it at all he also was more and more racist to me as time went on.

In both of the Americas Indigenous people, but especially Indigenous Women and girls aren't safe. It's scary how much violence is forced onto us and how these figure head "Women" are watered down into comfortability for the general public.

The violence we face is pretty much the same in the Americas, and its scary to know we are stuck in places that hate us despite being on our lands in the first place.

all of this but THIS PART ESPECIALLY:

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sentientgolfball · 3 days

Text

Same Old, Same Old

if you couldn't tell I've been possessed by these two recently

Read here or on Ao3

Pairing: Zephrit

Word Count: 3730

Tags: pup as a nickname, Zeph is kinda(?) mean...a little?, so much nipple

Summary: Ifrit takes a trip down memory lane by playing dress up with his old uniform. Zephyr catches him and makes the most out of it.

A bored ghoul never meant anything good. Ifrit had been sitting in his room all day, bored out of his mind. No chores to help with, no Siblings looking for him, no call to action. He laid in bed for an unreasonable amount of time, alternating between texting Zephyr and scrolling on his phone. Another hour passed before he huffed and tossed it on the bed next to him. There were only so many cat videos he could take.

He heaved a sigh before standing, stretching with a pop in his shoulders. He figured a walk will do him some good, anything to get his blood pumping. Fire was an element of energy and Ifrit could not stand the thought of staying still any longer. Maybe he would even find something to do while he was out and about. Even if he did not, at least he would not be laying around anymore.

He thinks about where he will go as he changes out of his pajamas. His phone buzzes, another text from Zephyr. From what Ifrit could tell, they have been having a day. They have been helping a new Sibling tasked with sorting through the older books in the library which is not a problem on its own, it is a certain Sister. Sister Gracie. She has been the problem in all of Zephyr’s workday stories recently. She checks out hoards of books and keeps them well past their due date. On multiple occasions, Zephyr has had to go directly to her and ask for them back. They were at their wit's end for today though. Apparently, she actually returned the stack she checked out on time, but when Zephyr went to collect them from the bin they had been damaged. All of them were either soaked or had some mystery stain on the pages. So all day it has been running between helping the new Sibling, talking with Imperator and Sister Gracie, and trying to salvage the books.

Another ping from Ifrit’s phone.

If I see her in here ever again after this I will be more than tempted to break that stupid human rule they can send me back to Hell it’ll be worth it to claw her eyes out

He stares at the message and quickly decides he will make the library his destination for his walk. It was on the opposite end of the Ministry from the ghoul den, so surely it will be enough to get some energy out. Plus seeing Zeph right about now sounds nice, for both their sakes. He sends them a quick text telling them he is stopping by before lacing up his boots and leaving the den.

The halls aren’t as filled as they usually are, he passes a few pockets of Siblings and ghouls filtering about but that’s it. He greets them all with enthusiasm, a bright fang filled smile. It seems to be a lazy day for the entire Ministry, though the heat from the late spring sun might have something to do with that.

He decides to take the longest way possible to the library, taking every twist and turn he can. He can feel his fire crackling just under his skin. Now that he’s finally moving around he feels ready to burst. When he passes the doors to the practice room he pauses though. He stares at the metal doors, out of place against the stone architecture of the ancient building. It’s been a long time since he’s gone inside, since he’s been on this wing of the Ministry. He hasn’t needed to, when Dew changed guitars Ifrit took the fantomen to keep in his room. When he gets that itch to play all he has to do is take it off the wall.

He opens the door just to peek inside. When he sees the room is empty he figures a quick trip down memory lane won’t take too much of his time. He steps in, lights and air conditioning coming to life when the sensors pick up movement. He takes a deep breath, it smells of artificial cold and polish. Underneath all that though, the dull scents of various ghouls filter through. Quintessence and fire smell the strongest. Ifrit briefly wonders which combination decided to lock themselves in here for a few hours. Omega and Alpha? Dew and Aether? Phantom and Dew? Or maybe it was Swiss? The multi ghoul’s scent was always hard to pinpoint unless it was fresh.

Ifrit shrugs, not too concerned with the details. He bounces around the mini rehearsal stage; eyes closed to let muscle memory take over. He bends backwards, throwing a hand into the air to show off to a ghostly crowd. If he’s quiet he can almost hear the cheering. He misses the energy of performing, misses the pleasant ache in his body after a ritual. Even so, he would not go back. Nothing would stop him from being where Zephyr is. Nobody had asked him to leave, but when Zephyr said they couldn’t handle it anymore it wasn’t even a question. Reliving the memories is enough as long as Zephyr is with him.

Oh shit Zephyr!

He pulls himself back to the present with a shake of his head. He already took too much time by stopping, Zephyr is probably waiting for him outside the library doors. He jumps off the mini stage, bounding towards the exit when a light catches his eye. One of the soundproof practice rooms has a light on. He thought he was alone. He can’t help it when he turns, heading down the short hallway. He peers into the window when he’s close enough only to find it empty. Well not empty, all of the spare practice rooms were being used as storage while the band wasn’t actively preparing for a tour, but there was no one inside.

He goes to open the door, but it hadn’t been closed all the way. He pushes it open and steps inside, surveying the space for any signs of who the mystery ghoul may have been. Whoever they are, they left in a hurry. Uniform bags are open, a mask box sitting on one of the few chairs in the room. Ifrit moves to clean up the small mess, but seeing the glint of the mask has him stopping. It’s not one of the helmets like he was expecting. Its silver, no opening for a mouth, curling horns, and sculpted hair. Empty eyes stare up at him. His eyes. His mask.

He doesn’t think as he takes it out of the box, bringing it up to his face to look into the eye holes. It’s surreal to hold it again. The only one who stills wears this version is Omega; feeling the cool metal feels wrong but almost right in a strange way. This was his face for his first few months Topside and now it just sits in a box.

An idea crosses his mind. One that would surely get him in trouble if he was caught. Whoever was in here before him clearly thought the same thing, only Ifrit didn’t stop. He put the mask back into the box, closing the lid and picking it up before his conscious could catch up to him. His eyes quickly scan over the rack of costume bags until he finds the right size. If he was going to steal pieces of Ministry history he needed to do it quickly before someone else wandered in.

He shuts off all the lights in the practice room before slinking out of the metal doors. He figures if he goes the short way back to the den he’ll make it to his room before running into trouble. The library is all but forgetting as he scurries back with his contraband. He won’t have it for long, just the evening. He’ll return it first thing in the morning before anyone notices it’s missing. It’s been a long time since he’s seen this uniform, he just wants to taste it again.

He makes it back to his room in the den with no trouble, suddenly very thankful for the slow, lazy day. He has the uniform out of the bag; still on the hanger but laid across his bed. He stares at it.

“What the fuck am I doing?” He runs a hand through his hair.

Despite his conscious finally catching up to him, he shrugs his leather jacket off before pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor. He discards his pants next, adding to the pile of clothes next to the bed. He stares at this old uniform in nothing but his underwear for a moment long before grabbing it. He puts the pants on first. It’s a little tighter than he remembers, meeting a bit of resistance as he pulls them over his thighs. After a bit of tugging he gets them all the way up to sit around his hips. The waistband slightly digs into his skin. The top comes next. He unbuttons it with practiced ease before sliding it onto his shoulders.

“Oh shit,” he says with a mix of surprise and panic.

It’s already tight around his shoulders and he hasn’t even rebuttoned it yet. He turns to look at the floor length mirror that sits in the corner of the room. The fabric is pulled taut and he briefly worries about the seams bursting if he moves too fast. He didn’t risk stealing this for nothing though. He begins to close the buttons one by one. It becomes a struggle once he’s halfway up his abdomen. He has to suck in deep breaths of air just to be able to pull the edges close enough to slip the button in. It’s a fight once he gets over his chest. No matter how he moves he can’t close it. He breathes, he relaxes his shoulders, he hunches forward, yet nothing gets him closer to his goal. Did he really get that much bigger since his summoning?

He stares at his reflection, the uniform so close to being all the way on. If he could just get the buttons over his chest closed. He ponders any possible solution, so lost in thought he doesn’t hear the door open.

“So, this is what you did instead of coming to see me?” Zephyr leans against the doorframe with their arms crossed.

Ifrit whips around, a slight flush to his cheeks as he tries to stammer out an explanation, “Zeph! No you see I was coming to see you, swear on the Lords, but I…well you see it’s funny really—“

“Save it,” Zephyr holds up a hand “I can see you’re having lots of fun playing dress up. Please, don’t let me stop you.”

They watch him, waiting for him to continue. Yellow eyes look him up and down expectantly. Ifrit almost flinches under the intensity.

“I can’t.” He bows his head, looking at his feet.

“What? Too shy now that you’ve got an audience? Come now Ifrit, I thought you loved the spotlight.”

He shakes his head. “No that’s not…I can’t Zeph.”

He tries to pull the buttons over his chest once more, showing Zephyr what he means. They watch him struggle for just a moment before it clicks. Their eyes scan over his figure again, only this time they notice how tight the uniform is on him. It's clinging to him, no wrinkles or extra space in sight. The way his chest bulges out of the unbuttoned front. They can see the outline of his nipple piercings. They can see everything. When the silence stretches on for too long, Ifrit lifts his head to look at them, guilt and shame written all over his face with how deep that blush has gotten. Suddenly Zephyr couldn’t care less about having to walk back to the den all by themselves.

“Poor little pup can’t fit into his old uniform?” Zephyr pushes off the doorframe, stepping into the room and closing the door behind them.

Ifrit’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline at the tone of their voice. Zephyr stalks over to him, running their hand over his shoulder and down his arm. They can feel the muscle ripple under the featherlight touch. They can’t help but squeeze his bicep, feeling the solidness through the fabric. Ifrit shudders, watching a small grin appear on their face. They meet each other's eye for a moment before Zephyr slips one of their hands into the opening of the uniform to grab at one of his pecs.

“Why bother trying to button this thing? Leave it open so everyone can see your perfect tits.”

Ifrit chokes on air when Zephyr pinches one of his pierced nipples harder than what could be considered pleasurable.

“This is certainly an improvement. Could never touch you like this backstage.” They fondle his chest, squeezing as much of him as they can with one hand.

Ifrit allows himself to be pushed until his back hits the dresser, hand shooting out behind him to keep his balance. Zephyr presses themselves tight against him, standing in between his legs to cage him in. He stares down at them as they start to mouth over his chest. The whiplash of Zephyr catching him to having that cool tongue gliding over heated skin makes his head spin. He isn’t sure if he should stop them, telling them to wait so he can take it off lest he rips it, or let them continue to grope his sensitive tits.

When he feels them bite close to his nipple his brain shuts off, hand flying up to stop the whimper that catches in his throat. Zephyr does it again. And again, and again, and again until his chest is covered in purple. His hips grind forward against them when their other hand tweaks his nipple at the same time they suck the other into their mouth. They squeeze their tail around his waist to stop the movement of his hips.

“Not yet pup, I want to take my time with you while you’re like this. Don’t want it to end too early.”

“Zeph, Birdie. Come on, we…you’re going to rip it,” he struggles to form a coherent thought with the way they’re rolling that sensitive bud between their teeth.

Zephyr pulls off of him slowly. They stand from their hunched position to stare at him, hands still roaming over his chest. “Are you telling me no?”

“‘No!” He says in a hurry “, that’s not what—“

“Then shut your mouth. You’re the one who wanted to play dress up, so let’s play.”

Zephyr steps away from him before reaching up to wrap their hand around one of his horns. They drag him to the bed, tugging and pulling at him to get him to lay flat on his back. Ifrit’s helpless to it, he allows them to move him however they want with nothing but the grip on his horn. When he’s down, Zephyr straddles his hips. Ifrit stares up at them with wide eyes, waiting for them to make a move so he can figure out how to not burst every seam on the uniform while they use him.

They tilt their head smiling at him; something sweet and simple before spitting directly onto his tits. Everything moves quickly after that; they unzip their pants just enough to pull their cock out, jacking themselves a few times before sliding up farther on Ifrit’s abdomen. They reach into the uniform to squeeze his chest together, moving their hands in quick circles to smear the salvia around before letting up on the tension just enough to shove their cock between them.

They squish his tits together until they’re hissing with satisfaction before slowly rocking their hips. He itches to replace their hands with his, do something other than stare slack jawed up at Zephyr, but every thought dies when he sees the tip of their dick peek out from his cleavage. His hips twitch up searching for friction when he watches a bead of pre drip so close to his chin he could lick it up if he craned his neck just a bit more.

Zephyr laughs at the hazy look in his eyes, at the way he’s just staring at the way their tip glides closer and closer to his face with each roll of their hips. The laugh is cut off when his brain finally catches up and he flicks his tongue out to swipe over the slit, drinking down the pre pearling at the tip. Zephyr shudders with a groan, hips bucking forward to get closer to the heat of his mouth.

“Not as dumb as I thought you were.” They huff, resuming a more rhythmic grind albeit it faster than before.

Ifrit is craning his neck to keep his tongue out, licking over their cock as they fuck his tits. He can feel the drool running down the side of his mouth, dripping onto his collarbones only to slide down and pool in his cleavage.

“Making a mess of yourself pup,” Zephyr groans.

Ifrit doesn’t respond, doesn’t have the brain power to. His senses are flooded with the taste of them, with the sight of their flushed cock, with the breathy little sighs that fall from their lips each time Ifrit flicks his tongue. He wants to get them in his mouth, properly suck them off until they cum down his throat. He moves without thinking, trying to grab their hands and surge forward to flip their positions. He doesn’t get that far. The moment he lifts his shoulders a deafening pop accompanies the sound of skin gliding on skin. Ifrit is slammed back into his body when the tension around his shoulders suddenly feels lighter, less constricted.

“Birdie shit wait. Stop, I think it ripped.” He panics, squeezing Zephyr’s wrists.

“How is that my problem? You stole it now you’ll live with the consequences.” They huff, doubling down. They squeeze his chest tighter, rocking their hips faster.

Ifrit could easily throw them off, truly ask them to stop, but he can’t find it in himself to move. He’s paralyzed by the realization he damaged the uniform, but also by the ache between his legs and the weight of Zephyr on his chest. Caught between his want to stop and his need to continue.

His mind is made up for him when a particularly hard thrust from Zephyr pushes the tip of their cock against his lips. His hands fly to their hips, urging them to do it again. They oblige, pressing closer to his face. Ifrit shifts just enough to be able to wrap his lips around the head, sucking and licking over it. Zephyr’s head falls forward, cursing under their breath. Their thrusts turn into quick little grinds, shoving more of their cock into that hot, wet mouth.

Ifrit lets the weight of it rest on his tongue as drool runs down his chin. The awkward angle makes it difficult to take more than an inch of them, but he doesn’t care. He’s content to run his tongue over them, licking at their slit and the sensitive spot on the underside. Ifrit sucks, working his lips around them and Zephyr is unable to stop their talons from digging into the meat of his chest. Ifrit moans, eyes fluttering and hips bucking into the air from the prick of pain.

Ifrit does it again. Instead of talons tearing tendering flesh he feels Zephyr go rigid. They cum without warning, coating the inside of his mouth. He instinctively swallows around them and they shudder as another glob squirts over his tongue. Ifrit suckles on his dick until it’s too much and they’re pulling away from him in overstimulation. They’re both panting, staring at each other with flushed cheeks while they catch their breath. When Ifrit runs a hand through the mess on the chest Zephyr groans.

“Get out of that thing before I ruin it.” Zephyr slides off of him, knees cracking when they stand.

Ifrit sits up to sit on the edge of the bed, turned to stare at his reflection in the mirror. He runs his hands over the deep marks littering his chest. His brain supplies him with memories from backstage closets and hotel rooms as his eyes rake over the disheveled uniform. That is, before he remembers where he’s at. Why he has the costume to begin with. His head snaps to Zephyr who’s just smiling at him.

“Don’t worry I’ll fix it before someone has your horns.”

Ifrit sighs a breath of relief. “Thank you birdie.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time and I certainly hope it isn’t the last,” they press a kiss to his temple ,” now strip.”

He stands, taking off the top as carefully as possible to not make the tear worse. The seam on his right shoulder is ripped down to the armpit. He cringes at the sight, handing it over to Zephyr before shucking the pants. Zephyr nearly doubles over at the sizable wet patch on the front of his boxers. The fabric clings to him, outline the shape of his now soft cock. They palm at him, squeezing him through his underwear and smearing the mess around. Ifrit shudders at the feeling.

“Filthy,” Zephyr muses.

“You’re one to talk,” Ifrit huffs a laugh.

They shrug, gathering the discarded uniform and folding it neatly before putting it on the desk to work on later.

“You’re the one who put it on. I’m not to blame for my actions.”

“Hm,” he thinks for a moment, “maybe next time I’ll wear the mask.”

“Oh so suddenly you have no reservations about stealing Ministry relics?” They eye him with a grin, something dangerous glinting in their eyes.

He grins back, “Not when it makes you like this, birdie.”

They hum, pressing kisses along his jawline “Good.”

There’s a moment of silence before Ifrit feels their hand wrap around his throat, “But if you ever leave me waiting like that again I’ll make sure you suffocate, understood?”

Ifrit swallows and nods. He shifts the weight on his feet, feeling his cock try to kick back to life. Zephyr grins at him. With the uniform gone he had no protection from their talons. He almost hopes they’re still upset with him.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #the band ghost fic #zephyr ghoul #ifrit ghoul #zephrit #18+ mdni #golfball writes

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a-krogan-skald-and-bearsark · 1 day

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HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET IN MY CLASSIC JAPANESE CINEMA, OLD MAN!

Or, Sanjuro as an Odinic figure; a discussion.

Warning for spoilers for Yojimbo (Akiro Kurosawa, 1961)

So. Sanjuro has a number of parallels with portrayals of Odin in Norse Myth, and the plot of Yojimbo contains several points that would not be out of place in a story about Odin.

To begin with, they are both wanderers. Odin has a number of Heiti associated with the role, while when we meet Sanjuro, he is travelling the Japanese countryside alone, with nothing but the clothes on his back and his sword.

They both also, in their wanderings, have a dependence on the hospitality of others. This may, in part, be due to the regions and time periods they are indigenous to having a culture of hospitality, but I would argue that simply strengthens the parallel.

Their treatment of people is also determined by the hospitality they receive.

The Farmer who is Sanjuro's first encounter provides water at Sanjuro's request, but is too busy berating his wife for their son's decision to run off and join the Gamblers to share it with Sanjuro or give him any sort of greeting, and so Sanjuro leaves without a word to him.

The water is repaid, towards the end of the film, when Sanjuro spares the Farmer's son, but they never meet or converse over the course of the film, and Sanjuro mocks and insults the youth before sending him home ("Children should not play with swords.")

The Constable too, approaches Sanjuro upon entrance to the town. He gives information, informing the Samurai of the principle players in the town, and of the opportunities available to an obvious fighting man, but then demands payment. Sanjuro ignores him for most of the duration of the film, only to instruct him to kill himself at the climax.

It is Gonji, who owns the restuarant in town, who shows Sanjuro hospitality, offering rice, water, and sake, and not withdrawing the offer when he learns Sanjuro cannot pay. Instead, he instructs Sanjuro to leave, for his own good, because there is nothing but trouble in the town.

It is this hospitality and concern for a stranger's wellbeing that leads Sanjuro to decide to clean up the town. A clear similiarity to Odin's tendency to wander disguised as a vagabond and reward or punish hosts depending on how they treated him.

Another example of this is his response to overhearing Seibei and Orin plotting to have him killed rather than pay him. It could be argued that he already intended to double-cross them, given that this occurred after he had decided to clean up the town; it is just as likely that he was expecting them to plot against them when he made the offer to work for Seibei. Which would also be a very Odinic move.

Sanjuro's handling of the feud between the two Gamblers and their organisations also mimics Odin's behaviour in various Norse myths. His guidance of the conflict by controlling the information available to both parties (As when he discovers Uchitora's complicity in the murder of the Imperial Inspector, sells the evidence to Seibei and then informs Uchitora that Seibei has the evidence) mirrors Odin's approach to those he chooses to favour temporarily.

And much like Odin's favourites, when Sanjuro withdraws his favour, he does so suddenly, without warning, and makes sure everybody knows about it, before settling in to watch the chaos.

TL:DR, a stranger wanders into town. Decides he is going to repay hospitality in kind, whether the principles want him to or not. Through the magic of lying, cheating, and excessive violence, he resolves circumstances in such a way that those who showed him hospitality are better off, and those who wronged him are dead and suffered the entire time it was happening, without any idea who encompassed their downfall until the very end.

Am I talking about Odin, or Sanjuro? Both? Both. Both is good.

#Odin #GODDAMN IT YOU BASTARD GET OUT OF MY KUROSAWA #TW Spoilers #Yojimbo #Although to be fair if you are worried about spoilers for a 63 year old movie #you might want to get on watching it.

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graciereadshannigram · 2 days

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hey fam, welcome to the May 2024 roundup of the best hannigram fics i've read this past month! i read several million words worth of fics, and these were the cream of the crop. i also managed to rewatch the show for the fifth time!! (unemployment has its perks lmao)

as a reminder: the ingredients for a five star rating typically (but not always!!) include some combination of a.) believable characterizations of both Hannibal and Will, b.) compelling plot and/or character arcs, and c.) high quality smut.

that being said, my judgment of the aforementioned ingredients is powered almost exclusively by vibes. as such, it is incredibly subjective.

you can find past rec lists below:

February March April

and if you have any recs of your own for me, PLEASE SHARE.

anyway, in no particular order, let's go!

Overcoming by purefoysgirl

Word Count: 547.5k Summary: A Victorian A/B/O romance in which Hannibal Lecter is the future Duke of Westvale who has been away at war for the past ten years. His Grandfather has made good on a contract made shortly after Hannibal's birth to procure him a wife. It was supposed to be easy. Naturally, with the Omega, Will, given in the place of his twin sister, it is anything but, because if there is one thing Hannibal Lecter despises, it's Omegas.

This fic had me holding back tears when it ended (after sobbing a couple different times). This was... incredible. What a fucking UNDERTAKING this author committed to, and despite this being a doorstopper of a fic, the plot did not miss a single beat. Just... wow. For the love of god, please read this.

Falls the Shadow by littlesystems

Word Count: 72.4k Summary: "You're a psychiatrist," Will says. "Between your personal and professional lives you must have met thousands of people, you must know dozens of different flavors of pathology. Do you know anyone who would take me as I am? Who would be able to love me," he gestures in a sweeping motion, from his messy hair to his stained knee, "just as I am?" "I do." Bedelia's words shock Will into stillness. “Really?” AKA an AU where Bedelia is Will’s psychiatrist instead of Hannibal, Will makes a series of increasingly questionable life choices, and no one should ever take Bedelia’s advice. Ever.

GIMME MORE STARSSSSSSSS. Bedelia as Will's psychiatrist was brilliant, holy shit. And Will understanding Hannibal and completely accepting him? This is something I see so rarely done in fics. Will always makes him be a lot less manipulative, or at least goes through heavy angst over it. But in this? Will was immediately endeared because that's just who Hannibal is.

Bram Stoker's HANNIBAL by DBMars

Word Count: 586.7k Summary: Love Never Dies. "I have crossed oceans of time to find you." Hannibal + Bram Stoker's Dracula + the classic novel = a new version of the seductive vampire legend. Count Hannibal Lecter loses the thing most precious to him -- the love of his life. God is beyond measure in wanton malice, and matchless in his irony. And so Hannibal renounces God, and becomes an immortal monster that feeds on the blood of the living. 400 years after losing his beloved, Count Lecter meets a man who looks exactly like the husband he lost -- reborn and returned. But who could learn to love a monster?

@dbmars you are a fucking genius. I am honestly still processing and figuring out how to communicate just how amazing this fic was. Do yourself a favor and go read it NOW.

the book of jonah by zipegs

Word Count: 18.1k Summary: A sudden breath of hot wind presses through the trees. For a moment, it feels fresh, alive, and then the dust—the pollen—comes along with it, a parasite hitched on the back of the breeze. Will is ravenous. --- After the fall, Will and Hannibal sojourn in a remote, decrepit cabin in South America while they await Chiyoh’s return. But something here is afflicting them, and it’s only getting worse.

Okay, bear with me. THIS WAS FUCKING AMAZING. I haven't felt this way after consuming a piece of media since I watched Guillermo del Toro's The Autopsy episode. Psychological horror mixed with body horror mixed with smut??? I guess that does it for me. I literally can't stop thinking about this fic. It's been two weeks and I am STILL thinking about it.

Wrong by HotMolasses (@snazzymolasses here on tumblr)

Word Count: 4.2k Summary: Will roughly rubbed his arm across his mouth again, trying to rub it off. Rub off the scent of Alana, after they’d kissed. After she’d kissed him. Or he’d kissed her? It was mutual. Until it wasn’t. Until Will breathed in her scent, so familiar, so Alpha, so…wrong. He’d pulled back forcibly, unable to hide the expression of revulsion on his face. “I…I need to go.” he said, sweeping his coat off the back of a chair on his way towards the door. “Lock up when you leave.” The weather was crap, and it probably wasn’t smart to drive in the snow while he was in pre-heat, but Will didn’t know what else to do. He needed to figure this out, he needed to talk to the only person who understood him. He needed to talk to Hannibal.

So ummmmmmm what do I need to do to turn this into like a whole AU?? As always, this was a total home run. Every single bit of it was perfect.

as soft, as wide as air by BlackKnightSatellite

Word Count: 193.9k Summary: After surviving the fall, Will finds he has far fewer hesitations about joining Hannibal than he would have guessed. Character death, but not Will or Hannibal.

Well shit. I read this immediately after a full rewatch of the show (in four days no less) and THIS is my new season 4 canon. It's brilliant and actually reads like a proper season would. And I love how it gives all the characters a concluded story line. Aside from Will and Hannibal. I also loved how much this explored Will's instability and how his mental state would be affected after he finally slung off all the guilt and allowed himself to fully enjoy killing. All around very good.

The Dispersal Method by @victorineb

Word Count: 16.9k Summary: It’s a normal fall day in the forest for Will Graham. Dead body in front of him, cannibal psychiatrist behind him, the usual. Then Will brushes against the wrong flower, and suddenly neither he nor Hannibal can keep their hands off each other. Now, Will must navigate his way out of the crime scene and Jack’s scrutiny while also trying not to jump Hannibal’s bones at every opportunity. Well, one out of three ain’t bad. Set nebulously in s2, post-Will's release from the BSHCI. Will’s a conflicted honeypot, Hannibal’s a (not-so) secretly-besotted asshole, and nobody has brought enough lube.

THIS IS THE BEST SEX POLLEN I'VE EVER READ. Seriously. The BEST out of pretty much any fandom (at least so far).

Between the Shadow and the Soul by raiast

Word Count: 48.7k Summary: When Will decides to stop taking his suppressants neither he nor Hannibal can deny the attraction between them. After nearly a decade of running from his biology, Will is faced with his primitive Omega urges full force. As if navigating his hormones wasn't enough, there is a killer at large with a very specific motive that seems to only be targeting preteen boys.

This might be my new favorite ABO fic? And one of the better case fics out there.

Sleepover by EarthsickWithoutYou

Word Count: 70k Summary: Set in Season 1, after "Fromage." Will is still confused about his kiss with Alana and seeks romantic advice on how to date and be more "smooth" from Hannibal. Little does he know that Hannibal is madly, passionately obsessed with him, and desperately jealous. Needless to say, Dr. Lecter is all too happy to teach Will everything he knows about love and dating.

This was pretty fluffy, tender, and fun, and it was exactly what I needed after finishing a heavier fic

Alana Finds Out by @victorineb

Word Count: 32.1k Summary: A series of one-shots in which Alana Bloom discovers, in the midst of various tropes, that her boyfriend Hannibal Lecter's feelings for Will Graham run far deeper than friendship. Basically a chance for Alana to shout at the pair of emotionally-repressed idiots whilst still indulging in much Hannigram loveliness.

Oh I loved all of this. This scratched that itch in my brain that loves when Alana realizes that Hannibal has wanted Will all along. And some of these one-shots are genuinely hysterical. Love.

Doctor's Orders by JSinister32

Word Count: 29.2k Summary: “He’s dead on his feet, Jack. I do not understand how you allowed him to come when he’s so obviously ill. There have been too many hours in service of your needs, so many that it seems to have affected any sleep that he may have gotten over the past few weeks. From what you and I have discussed, he has a difficult time shutting his mind down under the best of circumstances and this case today has clearly gotten to him.” The doctor stepped closer to the profiler, peering into his eyes as Will tried to focus. “Will? Can you hear me?” Will Graham has never been particularly good at taking care of himself. When he comes down with a severe cold while working on a string of murders, the new psychiatrist on retainer, Doctor Hannibal Lecter, offers to care for him. Will he be able to keep his feelings in check while Hannibal is in his home? Hannibal Lecter can't get the profiler working for the Violent Crimes unit out of his mind. When given the opportunity to care for him when he's ill, will his feelings for the other man come to light?

TENDER. I want like 70k more words of this. Especially Hannibal putting Jack in his place. Especially Hannibal washing Will's hair. Mmm. There's just something so good about Will letting Hannibal take care of him.

The First Condition of Immortality is Death by OneHandedBooks

Word Count: 92.5k Summary: Hannibal’s heart stopped for the first time after he’d dragged himself and Will out of the frigid ocean onto the rocky shore at the bottom of the bluff.

Oh this was GOOD. Very tender, good characterizations, and loved how Will's hallucinations were portrayed. This was just all a really good exploration of how their relationship could have progressed. This author also is incredibly good at showing the scenes in a way that I could watch them unfold in my head. This felt like a crystal clear movie.

What Do The Dead Know? by OneHandedBooks

Word Count: 7.6k Summary: He looks up at her, haloed by the sun. She could be anyone. No one. St. Abigail, patron of lilies and last chances. AU: What if Will joined Hannibal willingly after the Uffizi Gallery and they shared a few tense weeks in the world before Mason's men finally ran them down? In which Will writes, hallucinates, and succumbs to the dark side and Hannibal is a manipulative, brainwashing, bastard.

cw: Abigail/Will. But does it really count if it's a dream sequence? Regardless, this was something else, off the charts, big fan. The author NAILED the hallucinatory vibe that made this entire fic work so so well. Also, just Will working through his grief for Abigail this way made it that much more intense.

chimera of the chapel by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 211.5k Summary: When Will Graham wakes up from a coma three months after the fall, Jack reveals that Hannibal Lecter didn't survive. Outside the realm of Hannibal's influence, Will decides to discover the full truth behind the world's sudden and seeming falsehood. Everybody seems to hold their own opinion on Hannibal's fate, but Will knows better than anyone that trust and honesty are as elusive as death.

The "presumed dead" trope might just be my new obsession. I adored this fic so much, the plot was incredible, the development of their relationship was spot on, and there were just some very tender moments.

wear my silence like a mask by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 32.k Summary: After running into Hannibal at a Bass Pro Shop, Will is invited to a Masquerade Ball at his estate. Jack encourages him to attend for an opportunity to catch the Ripper. Extenuating circumstances tempt Will down an even graver path; Romance with the Ripper.

Three words: masked anonymous sex. That's all.

The Voices and the Shadows by darlinghogwarts, MaddyHughes

Word Count: 114.6k Summary: “The Chesapeake Ripper? The serial killer? That's a grisly thing to find at the bottom of a drink. Most people say oblivion ...or possibly sex.” Hannibal sips his wine again. “Why are you thinking about a murderer on your birthday, Will? Is it part of your degree?” “He is a part of my degree by my own choice. My supervisor didn’t approve, but…” He sighs. “I insisted.” AU where Will—a Masters student studying the Chesapeake Ripper—gets drunk on his birthday and meets an intriguing man at the bar.

Man, I wish I had had Hannibal as my thesis supervisor in grad school, hot damn. (Mine was pretty much too busy to help with anything, ended up doing it all myself – would not recommend.) This was was damn near perfect. I needed some good old fashioned angst. With a good and fluffy ending. This was a good AU!

Chasing Thoroughbreds by HigherMagic

Word Count: 42.8k Summary: After the fall, Chiyoh rescues Will and Hannibal and takes them to the Lecter home in Lithuania. When Hannibal wakes up, his memories of everything - Will, being the Ripper, everything since Mischa's death - are gone. Will's only problem with that is that killing Hannibal won't be nearly as satisfying if he doesn't understand why. Wrestling with his own feelings, or what's left in the tattered mess of them after the fight with Dolarhyde, Will stays, hoping that Hannibal will recover and give him the opportunity he's waiting for. But there are others who remember what Hannibal did, all those years ago, and they have their own bone to pick.

Ugh pretty sure I love almost everything HigherMagic writes and this did not disappoint. This was fantastic. I was absolutely captivated by Will's development through this and Hannibal was just as good.

Volto Larva by TreacleA

Word Count: 39k Summary: Will is having trouble unwinding after work. Hannibal helpfully suggests somewhere that may assist with that, with absolutely no ulterior motive whatsoever.

So ummmm I'm still blushing (in the best way) over parts of this fic because FUCK this is scorching. Anyway. That's all I've got to say LOL.

#hannigram #hannigram recs #hannigram fics #fic recs #hannibal #hannibal lecter #will graham #murder husbands #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #nbc hannibal #hannibal tv show #hannibal nbc #fannibals #dracula au #bram stoker's hannibal #overcoming fic #gracie reads hannigram

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