#i feel like my life just flashed before my eyes lmao
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you were all i wanted but not like this - rafe cameron
pairing: rafe cameron x reader (fem!reader)
WARNINGS: angst <3; just angst.
watched mamma mia and remembered how sam pissed me off when he left donna lmao; self indulgent honestly (haven't written in like a month so decided to get back into it with a smaller piece); hope you enjoy!
you should’ve known better.
the weight of realization presses upon you like an anvil on your chest, each breath drawn heavy with the gravity of the situation.
sleeping with a guy on the same day you met him? risky.
proceeding to spend the next three months with him? delusional.
falling for him while simultaneously knowing nothing about his life back home? stupid.
the sting of embarrassment gnaws at you and it feels like you're rotting inside.
you want to scream, to rage against the unfairness of it all, make a fucking scene out of it. of all people roaming the earth…rafe had to be the one your cousin was dating.
rafe, as in your summer romance rafe, your rafe.
oh my god!
he didn’t even tell you his surname, didn’t tell you shit and yet, just weeks ago, you were ready to move halfway across the world in hope of finding him again.
you should've seen the warning signs flashing in neon bright before you. the damage is done, the wounds self-inflicted.
rafe's eyes widen imperceptibly as the pieces of the puzzle fall into place, fitting together with a sickening clarity, a flicker of recognition crossing his features before he quickly masks it with a practiced smile.
but you see it, that moment of realization, and it only fuels the fire of anger burning within you.
"so, rafe cameron," you say, each word laced with a bitter edge that you can’t quite suppress, "so nice to meet you."
his million-dollar smile falters ever so slightly, a faint tremor betraying the cool exterior he tries so desperately to maintain.
“pleasure's all mine.”
yeah sure it fucking is.
you don’t utter another word to him. as you navigate through the party, each step feels heavier than the last, burdened by the weight of your self-recrimination. the pulsating beat of the music throbs in your temples, matching the rhythm of your racing thoughts. you move through the crowd with mechanical precision, engaging in polite conversation. you plaster on a fake smile and pretend like everything is fine.
what the fuck? how did you let yourself get in this situation in the first place? it’s a new kind of low, even for you. and why is the cameron household so confusing to walk around?
you can barely see straight with the headache taking place in your mind, the bright lights only wanting to make you burst into tears now and then.
“let me explain.”
rafe comes out of nowhere, ambushing you before you can get to the door.
a groan slips past your lips, “go fuck yourself.”
“let me,” rafe pleads, his tone tinged with desperation, eyes roaming your face for so long.
a bitter laugh bubbles up from deep within you, incredulous at the audacity of his request, “you think i wanna hear anything you have to say?”
he sighs, closing his eyes, “'meant every thing i said back in skopelos, okay? i didn’t lie.”
“you didn’t tell me shit,” your voice strains to keep calm, “not about you, not about your family, not about a fucking girlfriend, you said nothing. a summer flling, yeah i get it, i can get past that. but making me the other woman? are you serious?!”
you had allowed yourself to be swept away by his charm, by the promise of something more.
“there was no girlfriend!” he says, but you don’t believe him, squinting up at him with a frown.
“right,” your voice is monotonous, “you got back, what? three weeks ago and magically got one.”
“we weren't together, broke up with her, i swear— n'then you left, i thought i was never gonna see you again."
are you that easily replaceable?
if he cares so much why didn't he look for you? why didn't he break his stupid rules and ask for you number like a normal human being?
“oh go eat a cock.”
you turn on your heels, ready to put an end the conversation and to never see him again. you can feel your nails starting to break the skin on your palm and the subtle taste of copper on your tongue.
“hey—hey, hey, baby wai—“
as soon as his hand touches your arm, you’re pushing him away as hard as you can, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes, “don’t you dare. touching me is a privilege you do not have.”
the pain of betrayal, the humiliation of being used and discarded. you feel so stupid. tears cascade down your cheeks like raindrops on a windowpane, the weight of your emotions threatening to engulf you.
“please don’t cry,” rafe begs, fingers itching to hold you, “baby—“
“stop!” your voice cracks with anguish as you choke back a sob, wrapping your arms around yourself, seeking solace in the warmth of your own embrace, “just stop.”
“i don’t have a choice here,” his voice comes out all rough, as he tries not to cave in and cry, “you think i want to be with her when i could be with you? you—jesus, d-do you not understand how hard is it—“
“don’t finish that sentence,” the anger in your voice cuts through the air like a knife, your words dripping with bitterness and hurt, “it’s hard for you? you?!”
rafe opens his mouth to answer, but he finds it hard to pass the thick lump in throat, “i didn’t mean it like that.”
“you never do.”
his gaze falls to the ground, unable to meet your accusing eyes. he knows he messed up, knows he's hurt you deeply. can’t even find it in himself to explain, tell you how it’s all his father’s fault, that he only got back with her because ward told him to.
how pathetic would that sound?
‘'m sorry," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the din of the party, “’m so fucking sorry.”
but his apology feels hollow, empty, like a bandage over a gaping wound. the damage has been done, irreparable and raw. you shake your head, unable to find it in yourself to forgive him,
“too late."
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron#rafe cameron angst#rafe x reader#rafe angst#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe fic#rafe x female!mc#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#angsty#rafe cameron imagine
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NEVER AGAIN — SIM JAKE
SYNOPSIS: fake dating your best friend to get back at each other’s exes was one thing, but falling in love without him liking you back? never doing that again.
PAIRING: fake-bf!jake x gn!reader
WARNINGS: unrequited love and angst. WORDCOUNT: 672 words
NOTE: wasn’t even supposed to be sad LMAO but if i ever write a fic on this… don’t be shocked.
“YOU’RE GRIPPING TOO HARD, IT HURTS.” YOU WHISPERED, PLACING YOUR HANDS ON TOP OF JAKE’S.
“Oh, my fault. Is this better?” He asked softly as you nodded at the looser grip. His hands gently held your waist as you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck
The two of you moved to the rhythm of the song that played in the banquet hall.
Honestly, you and Jake weren’t a serious couple. Both of you were previously friends who decided to come together and make your exes jealous.
Which only helped to explain why you two were each other’s prom date.
“Do you even know how to dance?” He asked, hinting at the way your feet continuously stumbled over one another.
“Hey. Yes I do.” You said, narrowing your eyes at the boy in front of you.
“Just not like this…” You mumbled.
“Yeah, right.” He teased while scoffing. He stopped his movements and adjusted his hands that rested around your waist.
“Here, follow my movements.”
Jake’s voice was clear and tender as he took a step to the left. You looked at him confused and he nodded his head with a smile.
“Just follow.” He whispered while moving again, causing you to look at your formal shoes and his black Oxford’s.
You followed the path he created until you two were moving in sync.
“See, it isn’t that hard.” Jake said as you hummed in response and smiled.
You were actually having fun for once.
A few moments of silence passed through the space between both of you, but luckily, it wasn’t awkward.
It was comforting.
However, it wasn’t long before it was interrupted.
Jake looked up at the sound of chuckles and grimaced at the sight.
“Don’t you feel annoyed?” He asked as you looked up from the ground.
“What?” You replied, confused. He cocked his head at the two who danced with one another and smiled at each other like there was no tomorrow.
You shifted your gaze to where he stared. Turns out, he was referring to your ex and ex-best friend.
Usually, you would feel a sharp strike at your heart when you saw the two together, but right now, you didn’t.
“Not really.” You replied, eyes still on the two, causing Jake to look at you with knitted brows.
“What do you mean?” He asked.
“Even if she was my friend for most of my life…” You paused, looking back at the boy.
“So were you,” you explained, “I might’ve lost a friend and a possible lover, yet I’m not as phased anymore.”
“Because I might’ve fallen in love with you,” was what you wanted to say last, but couldn’t.
“Because I still have you, right? That’s enough for me.” You said instead, not wanting to make things awkward.
He was probably still hung up on his ex-girlfriend, and judging from the way he rolled his eyes when he saw her and her new boyfriend together, you definitely weren’t wrong.
“Well, I am.” Jake said in a harsh tone as you tilted your head in confusion.
“I still hate seeing those two together.” He explained, his hands tightening around your waist again.
“Jake, too tight.” You winced, trying to shimmy out of his grip.
“Oh, right. Sorry.” He apologized with a sheepish laugh.
Yes, the sound made your heart flutter, yet you knew anything you did wouldn’t have an affect on him.
“Here, let’s take a break. Would you like something to drink or eat?” Jake asked, removing his hands completely.
It would be nice to get a break from your heart constantly thumping at an immense pace.
So, you nodded at his request in agreement. He flashed a smile at you once more before leaving to visit the serving table as you returned a more awkward one.
Once he was gone, you looked over at your ex and your ex-best friend, then at Jake’s ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend and sighed.
Wow, was this what unrequited love felt like? If so, you hated it.
Never again.
Ξ ©HAKNOM, 2024
PERM TAGLIST — @soov @urszn @hanniluvi @dakkisz @dimplewonie @xiaoderrrr @ja4hyvn @mmaplepastries @essmarye @w3bqrl @jennaissantes @yenqa @yeokii @yyunari @wvnkoi @isoobie @lovrqis @gibbysupremeacyisreal @rikizm @teddywonss @100203s @yizhoutv @yuviqik @itsactuallylina @i-yeseo @flwoie @shinrjj @moons-v @rikibun @baekhyunstruly @haechansbbg @cholexc @flolio @winuvs @weoris @mlaren @sunooluuvr @aespaslut @kaypanaq
#k-labels#k-films#kpop x reader#kpop angst#jake enhypen#enhypen jake#enhypen x reader#enhypen angst#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#enhypen#enha x reader#enha angst#jake enha#enha jake#sim jake x reader#jake x reader#jake angst#jake#sim jake angst#sim jake#enha#enhypen scenarios#jake sim#sim jaeyun x reader#sim jaeyun#sim jaeyun angst#jake imagines#jake scenarios#enhypen imagines
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one night only! — gojo satoru and geto suguru.
wc : 2.1k
summary : fem!reader goes to a club with shoko to be free from her scary guard dog besties, satoru and suguru show up anyway, just a bunch of intimacy really. maybe one lil suggestive part w satoru?? mention of wlw shoko and possible insinuation of stoner geto lmao
part of : the star paradox collection.
notes : i headcanon poly satosugu as often toeing the line between platonic love and romantic love bcus these three idiots rlly can't tell the diff sometimes. also shoko is gay and is my gf don't @ me. also this is ooc of how satoru and suguru would be at a club cs lets be fr satoru would be an emotional drunken mess while suguru is in the bathroom smoking or smth
other : im having so many teenage romance thoughts ab poly satosugu. also this was kinda inspired by a poly marauders fic i read agesss ago
current casette : i was never there - the weeknd. me and your mama - childish gambino.
You can feel the bass of the music in your throat, your heartbeat racing to catch up with it.
Parties like these only had one common thread : brainless, brainless fun.
“That one over there,” Shoko murmurs against your ear as discreetly as she can, but just as loud as for you to hear her over the thumping music inside the club. Your gaze moves from the sequin strap across Shoko’s shoulder and over to a girl across the way, a redhead, leaning against the bar and knocking back an expensive looking drink. “She’s pretty.” You turn your head to Shoko’s ear.
Satoru and Suguru have been… hovering these past few weeks.
You love them, truly, the bestest best friends anyone could ask for. But two popular conventionally attractive men by your side at all times? It does put a damper on your love life. Shoko would be able to understand your point of view — if she wasn’t playing for the other team at least.
The redhead looks over her shoulder out at the mass of bodies on the dancefloor, the dark blue dress she has on really accentuates her figure — among other things. “You should go tal–” Before you can finish, Shoko’s mouth is agape, eyes fixed on the girl, and being the wingwoman that you are, you shove her forward a little. “Talk to her.”
“You sure?” Shoko wobbles forward, tipsy but sober enough to take a pretty girl home. The neon lights inside the club flash pink and blue then red and green then pink and—
“I don’t wanna abandon you, name.” You only laugh at Shoko, giving her two firm thumbs up, nudging her forward again, and still, she stands there contemplating. That is, until the redhead turns around and locks eyes with Shoko.
Oh, she’s far gone already.
“Don’t leave my peripheral.” Shoko kisses the side of your cheek and begins to saunter off, just as the song playing in the club changes to a softer, more sensual song.
There’s something about parties. Something that gives you the uneasy feeling two specific people could pop up at any time – two people you’re trying very hard to make clear to that you’re your own woman.
What makes a grown man wanna cry?
You slide back to the spot on the dancefloor you and Shoko shared moments ago, and with a sigh of near relief, you let the music transcend you to a different realm. Your body sways among the masses, a tinge of alcohol probably clouding your judgement because on any other occasion you’d find dancing in public embarrassing—
When it’s time, when it’s time, when it’s time, it won’t matter
There’s a sense of complete euphoria that washes over you, and before you know it, a slender arm snakes around your waist. And despite your better judgement, you know who it is before you look over your shoulder.
It’s an eerily intimate thing, feeling the chill of the six eyes raking over you.
You’re sure Suguru must be the only other person to feel how it feels, the goosebumps that rise on your flesh, hair standing on end. But not in fear. In something else entirely—
“You’re so pretty.” Satoru whispers against the edge of your ear. He doesn’t sound drunk. At the very least he barely sounds tipsy, just a small slur of speech in between, and you look over your shoulder at him.
“Prettier than you?” You stop moving and let out a laugh, and he goes brainless. Crystalline orbs stare down at you, and he pulls your body flush against him, pressing his body into yours from behind.
“Don’t stop,” he mumbles and your body sways, resuming with the rhythm of the blaring music. A whisper of the lyrics leaves his mouth, and you nearly forget how he knows the song — must’ve been in one of Suguru’s playlists. One of those playlists he keeps.
“Satoru—” you’re about to scold him, maybe tell him this is a thin line, one you’ve been toeing for too long.
Satoru brings his other arm around your waist, both his hands meeting in accord atop the flesh of your stomach. He waits for a beat, waits for you to tell him no, but it never comes.
I’m on the edge of something breaking
His head dips to your height, his hair tickles the back of your neck. You can feel the heat from his lips on your skin as he hums along to the lyrics. “Just feel it for a little...” He whispers.
Even in his tipsy but not-so-tipsy state, he knows exactly what he's doing. You think, maybe he’s always known. At least in body but not in mind.
If I keep going I won’t make it
A sigh escapes your lips, something akin to a breath of relief, like a weight lifts off your shoulders.
Satoru’s body grinds forward onto you, and your head tilts back onto his chest, a mouthful of lyrics leaving your mouth in a gasp. “Feels good, yeah?” He grins down at you, pleased, his voice a bit off-key in a more Satoru-like fashion.
“Didn’t know you knew the song,” the words leave your lips as you both lock eyes. He rolls his eyes and sinks his teeth into the exposed flesh of your shoulder playfully.
“Suguru plays it all the time—” He replies, then continues to hum along with the song, his voice barely sounding like his own. “It’s too sexy to not know.”
There’s a sense of comfort in not knowing the depth of what you feel in this moment.
Satoru spins you around to face him, and the breath leaves your lungs. And the moment in between knowing what your relationship is and not knowing all but fades to black.
And with the way he looks into your eyes, and leans forward, you think he just might break the line two.
And it’s all because of you—
The song fades out, to a more upbeat one, and Satoru’s hands fall limp at his sides. Suddenly, you remember how to breathe. And you swallow the lump in your throat, all while he gives you the signature goofy grin you’ve come to cherish.
You turn your head to look across the mini crowd, and Shoko is still there, one arm slung around the redhead as they both knock back shots.
Temporary. It’s no big deal, you and Satoru were just tipsy.
But that sense of relief is short-lived.
Embarrassingly so.
“Boo.” A sharp exhale leaves your lips as soon as you turn your head, and instead of Satoru staring down at you, your view is blocked by Suguru.
You look at him like a lost child, and he rears his head away to laugh at you. “Don’t look so scared, name.” He smirks, slyly, like Suguru always does when he’s taunting.
“You dumbass—” You breathe, a hand colliding with the edge of his shoulder in a soft shove and Satoru can’t help but laugh at the sight before him.
Then, Suguru’s fingers wrap around your wrist, two, then four then he’s tugging you forward, straight into him and Satoru. “Don’t be so mean to me, you’ll break my heart.” He says it so condescendingly, with such a smile that makes your heart leap at your current predicament.
Satoru really wasn’t done. He just brought in reinforcements.
“As if—” You grumble, and the lights dim for a second before flashing a neon purple. And that’s all the time Satoru and Suguru need.
“—I have a heart?” Suguru towers over you, and he bends his knees just a little, resting his chin against your shoulder so you can hear him. “Or as if you could break it?”
You think Suguru’s been smoking. The warmth of his breath against your bare skin makes you shiver a little. You think you feel a little dizzy just from looking at him.
The way his eyes are downcast, eyelids heavy, like he’s bordering on the precipice of eternal sleep or the best dream he’s ever had, one he doesn't want to wake from.
He looks at you like you're the latter rather than the former.
Satoru swings his hand forward, interlocking his fingers with yours, pale slender digits finding purchase between yours as he moves to your side. “As if to both.” He rolls his eyes, and Suguru lets out a soft whistle, “You’re so cold, Satoru.”
The song playing begins to fade out, and Suguru takes advantage of the few seconds before the song switches, that small gap of silence, and he whispers, “Dance with us..?”
“Duh.” You grab ahold of Suguru’s hand with your free one, all while Satoru’s grip on your other hand tightens just a little. “Who else would I dance with?”
These things are no secret, never have been and never will be. And you have a funny feeling you know why your love life remains so stagnant.
How does the old age thing go? Never let your girl have a boy bestfriend. Or worse, two.
The three of you saunter to the middle of the dancefloor, the neon lights flashing shades of blue.
And if you didn’t know better, you’d say whoever the DJ is, they’ve got a sick sense of humor.
Because they manage to play the most romantically erotic song you could ever hear in a club setting. Ironically, a song you recognize from your playlist — no doubt you learned it from one of Suguru’s tracklists. A very extensive one titled with a leaf emoji.
I’m in love when we are smoking that—
Suguru’s arm moves to wrap around your waist from in front, and he tugs you close as the soft tempo reverberates through the room. He shrugs some of his hair off his shoulder, dark eyes finding yours and he doesn’t dare look away for a second.
Suguru must think you're a pipe dream. That you’ll disappear if he blinks.
Your bodies rock from side to side and Satoru doesn’t let go of your hand, instead he slides behind you, following the rhythm you and Suguru have set in tune, raising your intertwined hands to his lips, and for a moment he uses them as a makeshift microphone to sing—
La-la-la-la-la
Suguru grins and he presses his chin atop your head, his other arm coming around to hug you close to his chest, while Satoru meets you both halfway, and it’s really just a sandwich swaying side to side with you in the middle.
I’m in love when we are smoking that—
What initially started off as something so simple, you coming to a club with Shoko wanting to finally get laid since your best friends managed to scare all the guys off — has turned into something so soft, so intimate.
There are never many words, never much explanation when you’re with Satoru and Suguru.
And it’s clear none of the three of you know what this is or where you stand. But for now, that’s okay.
La-la-la-la-la
“You okay?” Suguru dips his head to mumble into your ear, and you nod, words failing you.
In truth, you’ve never felt so soft, so safe yet so… vulnerable. But that’s also okay.
Satoru cranes his neck and leans his body over yours to look between you and Suguru, having not heard a thing. “You two okay?”
And you laugh. Suguru does too.
Suguru’s arms around you keeps you grounded against him, and Satoru’s weight against your back keeps you firm between them. “If you need us to stop… if you need a drink I can—” Suguru tries, but you cut him off with a soft pat to his shoulder.
“Don’t stop,” you mimic Satoru’s words from earlier as your own into Suguru’s chest and he melts. “Yeah?” He whispers.
“Yeah.” You affirm, and he nods, his chin going back to rest atop your head. And you wrap a free arm around Suguru’s middle, the other still softly interlaced with Satoru’s at your side. “M’ happy here.”
“In the club?” Suguru asks, albeit a little louder so you can hear him an amused smile slipping onto his features. “No, just—” Your words fail you. But this, there can’t be any intent without feeling, true unbiased feeling.
And you feel it, coursing through you in soft waves for them.
That unbiased wavy feeling, almost like you’re floating. That feeling for them. Though you don’t quite know what to call it yet.
“Here,” you mumble and a smile stretches onto your face. “With you, and Satoru too.”
Suguru stops swaying a bit, and at the change in movement Satoru stops too, peering over your shoulder to see what’s happening.
But Suguru only grins a little. “I’m happy too,” he says. Then he glances at Satoru, and Satoru glances to you. “I guess if you two are so happy, then me too.” Satoru chuckles.
#★ DRIASWRLD#tsr ⭐️#jujutsu kaisen#satosugu x reader#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#satoru gojo#suguru geto#gojo x geto x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic#satoru x reader#gojo x reader#suguru x reader#geto x reader#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#jujutsu kaisen fic
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Omg I just had this thought what If -
The reader was studying for a test and ethan offers to help as a tutor giving extra credit but in order for that he wants sex idk I think it would be spicy and ahhh🤭
RAHH THIS IS SO GOOD 🤭
Extra Credit — Ethan Landry ★
PAIRING: Ethan x gn!reader
A/N / WARNINGS: not proofread and this is suggestive but not smut !!
“God fucking damn it!” You groaned and tossed your head back as you threw your pencil on your notebook. This test you were studying for was going to be impossible. Mindy laughed at the sight of you, “Having trouble are you?” You rolled your eyes at her, “Shut up Mindy. This is important and I can’t understand any of it,” you sighed and leaned back into the couch.
Ethan slightly smirked as he looked at you beside him. He decided he wanted to take advantage of this situation. You needed help, you needed him. Mindy, Chad, Anika, Tara- they couldn’t help you. They weren’t in the same class as you, but he was. He could help you and he had an idea. “If you need it, I don’t mind tutoring you,” Ethan said flashing you an innocent smile. Though his intentions were far from innocent.
“Really, E? You’d do that for me?” You looked up at him hopefully and he had to stop the wicked grin that threatened to make its way onto his lips. You had no idea what he wanted to do to you, you had no idea how badly he wanted you. How badly he needed you. “Sure I would. It’s no big deal,” he shrugged trying to pretend his want for you didn’t grow larger when you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him. “Thank you thank you! God you’re a life saver,” you laughed.
You pulled away from the hug and Ethan licked his lips as he stared into your eyes. Your arms were still around his neck loosely and the distance between you both was small. But there were people around, so Ethan couldn’t do anything. Then again everyone in the room was oblivious and too wrapped up in their own conversations so he could probably get away with doing a small gesture. He leaned in and whispered in your ear, “I’ll help you if you do something for me in return.” Your expression changed to a confused one, “What do you mean?”
He chuckled, “I mean if you help me out,” he grabbed your hand and put it on top of the very visible problem he had through his pants. “I’ll help you,” he said with a small kiss to your neck. His breath tickled your neck and that mixed with the feeling of him smirking against your skin made you weak. You looked around to see Mindy and Anika busy watching some scary movie Mindy put on and Tara and Chad were too busy flirting. You were extremely glad there was a blanket covering both you and Ethan as he put pressure on your hand so you were now palming him.
He struggled to keep in his whine as he looked at you with pleading eyes. “So will you?” He asked quietly. You looked at his eyes then his lips and then his eyes again, “Yeah, I want you so bad, Eth.” He grinned and looked around at everyone before getting up, “Meet me at my dorm in 10.” You smiled up at him and eagerly nodded.
Even if you didn’t pass it’d definitely be worth it
SHORT AND FLIRTY CAUSE I CANT WRITE SMUT LMAO HOPE YOU LIKED ITTT
tags I forgot againnn: @beary-rambles @wekiamo @dizzyscreams
#scream 6#ethan landry#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry imagine#ethan landry thoughts#jack champion#dizzy writes?! 😵💫
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ohhh a crumb of yandere gojo PLEASE 😩
Omg so sorry for disappearing. I suddenly had an onset of health problems that got so bad I even had to go into emergency surgery. I'm better now though! Requests for my page are now CLOSED, though I will be answering all the people who already asked me when they were open. But no guarantees with how fast lmao.
One more thing, what do you guys think about me taking commissions? I feel like I'd be able to, and there's enough stuff on my page for people to know what they'd be getting. Let me know in the comments or DM me.
Yandere!Gojo x Reader with an unknown, powerful jujutsu
~Something snaps inside you, primal and unknown. Unfortunately, you aren't the only one that witnesses this~
CW: Past kidnapping. Yandere Gojo, but he's actually super chill compared to his usual self lmao.
WC: 1149
Buy me a coffee?
.-.-.
“C’mon, just a little bit. You can trust me, can’t you?”
A muscled arm wrapped around your waist, dragging your stiffening body closer. Blue eyes peered at you from over black sunglasses, shining with mirth.
“I really can’t do it, Gojo, I swear. Please, just let me go.”
You leaned as far away from him as possible, which, from your position on the couch, wasn’t very far at all. The man had you literally and metaphorically cornered, squished into the corner of the sofa with his hand firmly on your hip. You tried to ignore his fingers, idly tapping an unknown rhythm against your skin, but you felt each digit like a brand. Squirming, you tried to edge away, just a few inches so you weren’t pressed flush against his side. Gojo only grinned, flashing impossibly white teeth at you as his hand flexed, pulling you in until you were practically in his lap. You froze.
His smile only grew bigger. “I think we both know that’s a lie. Hell, the missing person case speaks for itself.”
You felt your stomach drop. The missing person case. The missing person case you had caused. Just yesterday, your life had been achingly normal, something you now craved. It was your day off, and you decided to use the time to catch up on errands. When it happened, you were at a bank depositing a check when, out of nowhere, a creature had risen smoothly out of the ground like it was water, not the rock solid masonry that the bank was made of. You had only gaped uselessly, staring at the thing that had too many limbs and eyes that were more human than beast as it loomed over you. No one else seemed to notice, except for a single man. He was nondescript, with dark hair, plain features, and a grey suit that made his complexion more sallow than it really was. You thought he was an employee. Thought.
When he saw you staring, he snarled a short command at the monster, then he and it both dove at you. That was when everything broke out into pandemonium. All at once, an alarm was set off, people started screaming, and the skylight above you and the man shattered, raining stained glass down around you and your attackers. You thought it was a robbery. If only it was that simple.
Screaming, all you could do was throw your arms up and wait for impact, but nothing came. Finally, you dared to lower your arms, only to be met with a man with shockingly white hair. Amongst all the panicking bankers and customers, he was the eye of the storm; calm, still. Then, slowly, he pulled up part of the bandages covering his eyes, revealing one. When you saw it, you gasped. He grinned at your reaction, a boyish type of smile that in any other situation would have made your heart flutter, but the hunger behind it instead made your stomach drop.
Before you could blink, he had you wrapped in his arms, their strength like that of a steel trap. The last thing you heard before everything went black was, you would later find out, his voice.
“Well, isn’t this interesting?”
You had woken up in those same arms, and when you realized you started to cry, inconsolable even as your kidnapper gently shushed you.
You whimpered at the memory, at the thought of the man at the bank who, yes, may have tried to attack you, but he was still a person. He was still missing. Missing because of you, if Gojo was to be believed.
“I- I didn’t mean to,” you stuttered. “I had never even met him before then. Why would I want to hurt-”
“Sato Isamo,” Gojo interrupted, waving his hand. “The salaryman turned curse-user after power was promised to him, yada yada. Same old shit. He doesn’t matter, I would’ve offed him if you hadn’t gotten to him first-” you felt your stomach drop at such deadly words said so casually “-what really matters is you.”
Suddenly, his hands were holding your face, so big that they almost wrapped around the entirety of your skull. His eyes bore into yours, and even though every instinct in you screamed to look away, you couldn’t, prey caught in the stare of the predator.
“You did something amazing back there.” Gojo’s eyes were glowing, lit by something deep and primal inside him. “Not even I can disappear a man in the blink of an eye without any effort, but you did. You wiped him off the face of the fuckin’ earth to somewhere even my six eyes can’t see, and I want to see you do it again.”
A thumb brushed over the apple of your cheek. It took all you had not to shiver.
“I never thought I was a patient man until I saw you. We’ll wait as long as it takes, but you’ll never escape me until I get to see your technique again.”
He was insane, you thought. Nothing else could explain the glazed look on his face or the way his body trembled finely against yours. This man was more dangerous to you than that monster at the bank ever was.
“And after that you’ll let me go?” you asked. Begged was more accurate, with the way your voice cracked over the last word.
For just a split second, his eyes changed, shifting from blue summer sky to deep ocean depths. “We’ll see,” was all he said, then his eyes flickered back to their radiant glow. “But until then, I’m not letting you out of my sight. We’ll go to the Asahikawa estate, you’ll love it.”
For a moment, you thought your hearing had failed you. “W-what,” you were barely able to stammer out. “But that’s miles away. I have a job here. A family.”
Gojo only shrugged. “People like them don’t matter. You’re better off sticking with your own kind.” He winked down at you. “Like me, for example.”
You could only stare at him, mouth agape. Gojo only smiled back at you, and it was all you could do not to scream. Instead, you did the next best thing, diving wildly from his grasp. Behind you, you heard a delighted laugh before arms that were already starting to feel familiar wrapped around your waist.
You shrieked, thrashing, but all Gojo did was scoop you up, holding you to his chest like some sort of disobedient pet. Nothing you did broke his hold, so finally, after fighting out all your energy, you could only slump against him in a panting, sweaty mess. The white haired man smiled down at you, and that was when you finally broke, tears leaking from your eyes as he pressed his forehead to yours.
“We’ll figure this out, no matter how long it takes,” he said. “Together.”
#jjk imagines#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujustu kaisen x reader#imagines#yandere#yandere jjk#yandere jujutsu kaisen#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#yandere gojo#yandere gojo satoru
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HII okay so ik this is a bit of a weird request (or maybe im js rlly anxious rn for some reason??) BUT i was wondering if u could do like little head canons of Leo and a female reader who has like, a really deep country accent IYKWIM?? PLS N THANK U dont rush or anything js a small request🫶🫶
✮⋆˙ howdys, yeehaws, and cowgirls; leo valdez x western! daughter of apollo! reader blurb
content: leo valdez x western! daughter of apollo! reader blurb
warning: lanauage and stereotyping (?) of texans but it's okay yall will get over it
author's note: as someone from rural california (yes ive been trying to gaslight you guys into thinking i live on the beach when really it's three hours away stfu) and literally just went to a school sanctioned line dance that is quite literally more anticipated than prom, i feel more than qualified to answer this prompt lmao. ive seen a pair of cowboys more than once everyday my whole life. for FUN kids i know raise pigs and cows and lambs and shit and then sell them off at fairs. also do not stress bby, this wasn't a weird request at all! in fact it was so good i made a whole blurb lmao. ALEXA play my childhood country playlist, thank you miss girl. 10 year old me knew good music when she heard it okay, stfu. OH AND PLAY COWBOY CARTER WHILE YOUR AT IT YALL COULD NEVER MAKE ME HATE BEYOUNCE LEAVE MY GIRL ALONE FRFR you just dont wanna admit the albums good smh
to say leo missed texas, would be a lie. there was a deep ache in his chest to just go home. it was a strange feeling, considering he couldn't remember the last time he was in that state, as the foster system was eager to drag him all over the country. he missed the sticky and dry heat, he missed the longhorn cows that always seemed to be in the roads, and what he missed most of all was whattaburger. him and will mourned the loss of the beloved food chain weekly, if not daily. but, he only ever mentioned these feelings around will and simply in passing. he didn't think people would understand why he missed the state who's accent he tried his best to rid himself of.
which is why, when news spread of a new camper from texas, leo was buzzing to meet them. what was failed to be mentioned in the rumors, though, was the fact that you were a girl and also drop dead gorgeous. he was staring at you in a way that would have his mother smacking him upside the head, cursing him out in spanish. it took a bit for him to introduce himself, his nerves allowing his accent to slip through occationally.
"are ya from texas?" you asked, eagerly, your eyes brightening in a way that had leo's knees buckling. your voice, oh gods, your voice-
"yeah," he breathed out, bordering on a coo as you cheered.
"finally! and here i thought there were no cowboys left in new york," you teased, poking his chest with a finger before someone from the hermes cabin was calling you over. you flashed him a smile brigther than the sun on a hot texas day and scampered off, your cowgirl booties with bows clanking to the beat of leo's heart as you went.
from that day forwards, it was hard to see you without leo close by. finally, someone else to talk to about texas. sure, will was great, but he was a busy guy with all his medical stuff and boyfriend. and your voice left leo like a fly to honey. it was sexy and got him hot and heavy. but, it was also a comforting dialect that had him thinking of childhood, sweet tea, and sweltering heat.
and then you were claimed by apollo, only a few days after your arrival. i guess apollo has a thing for cowgirls, and leo couldn't relate to the god more if he tried. leo was slightly worried that you'd turn out just like will, locked up inside the infirmary, destined only to share passing comments of missing real texan barbeque. but, then you came up to leo during lunch, blushing as you admitted that you fainted when kayla pressed the scalpel into your hand. and leo laughed, and silently thanked his lucky lone star.
then the more musically talented apollo kids caught wind of the fact that you sang in your church's choir as a kid and nearly blew the whole camp up in excitement. something about wanting to do a country performance for camp but never having a lead singer with the accent as they'd rather jump into the sea of monsters in speedos then listen to will attempt to sing. naturally, you were more than happy to sing, excitedly telling leo about the country songs you were picking out, even letting him request a few of his childhood favorites.
and as you were prancing around on that slapdash stage with your siblings, singing proudly into a mic with your accent clear as day, leo fell a little bit more in love with you every note. and he fell back in love with texas, too, and everything it meant to him - everything he knew it meant to his mom. every twang of your voice and every playful tip of your cowboy hat had him thinking of how much his mother would have loved you or how he had wished the two of you could have met. nevertheless, he was laughing and singing along, front and center with will, there arms thrown around each other. they both wore barely thrown together western outfits, thought will had a hat, that despite leo's begging, he wouldn't give up.
at some point in the show, you were singing of coca cola and tight shirts, kneeling near the edge of the stage. leo was entranced as you locked eyes with him, just barely computing that you took your hat off and set it on his curls before jumping back up to your feet, singing about wanting to be wherever your boy was, throwing a wink to leo over your shoulder.
and gods, you were hotter than the blazing texas sun in the middle of summer, that much leo valdez was sure.
#postcards from covey ౨ৎ#all my love ౨ৎ#hoo#pjo#heroes of olympus x reader#leo valdez x reader#leo valdez#leo valdez x y/n#leo valdez x you#leo valdez x oc
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After care prompts -12 with rengoku
Like I feel like he would be just so gentle and sweet but when he gets carried away… you’re definitely not going to be able to walk the next day 🧎🏼♀️🧎🏼♀️
Prompt: "I'm sorry if I got carried away."
A/N. MDNI. Explicit. Not proof read at all lmao.
Panting hard, Kyojuro slowly peeled himself away from where he’d been pressed flush against your back, pushing himself to his knees as he slowly slid his softening cock out of your leaking, slightly sore cunt.
You winced at the loss of his warmth, that stinging cold which always followed him pulling out and away making you flinch against the bed. A thin stream of his seed slowly trickled out behind his cock, staining the blankets below you.
Any lingering discomfort was chased away as Kyojuro’s strong, warm hands positioned themselves gently at your hips and eased you flat against your bed. His fingers then slid behind your knee, gingerly straightening your leg back out from where he’d bent it up near your hip so that you could take more of him as he’d ruthlessly pounded into you from behind.
“Are you alright, my flame?” Kyojuro’s voice was rough but quiet, his fingers gentle as he trailed them up your spine to where your hair had fallen in front of your face, delicately brushing the strands back. “I’m sorry if I got carried away.”
The Flame Pillar had been in a stormy mood upon his arrival to your small cottage. You’d suspected he would visit soon, given the way his crow had landed in your small garden earlier that afternoon, his eyes wide and expectant.
You’d intended on waiting up for him, but the hour had grown late, and you’d accidentally fallen asleep in your bed. You’d been awoken by a sharp grumble of thunder as a late-night storm rolled in, jolting awake in your bed right as a bolt of lightning flashed outside.
You had been trying to quell the pounding of your startled heart when a soft knock had sounded at your door. The moment you’d wrenched the front door open to see your beloved Flame Pillar, standing there in the rain, you’d known what he needed.
Kyojuro was normally so jovial, always sweeping you up in his arms, peppering your face with his loving kisses as he asked after your welfare, all while carrying you back to your small bedroom so he could undress you before spreading you out across your blankets and tenderly having his way with you.
But tonight, he’d shown up with dark clouds in his eyes, much darker than which had brought forth the storm raging outside, his face uncharacteristically stoic as he informed you there had been loss of life on his mission that he’d been unable to prevent.
He was angry. Angry at himself; angry at the demons he fought.
He’d stepped past the threshold of your home, asking you only once if you were prepared to handle him for the night. His voice had been gruff, but the hardness in his eyes had softened for a moment, and you’d known that had you said no, he would’ve simply left, or slept slumped against your wall.
Instead, you’d only taken one step back from him to unfasten the belt of your sleeping kimono from around your waist, letting the material fall open to reveal your nude body before it dropped to the floor in a puddle.
At the first sight of your bare skin, Kyojuro had pounced; one hand had firmly gripped your jaw while the other tangled in your hair, wrenching your head back slightly to meet his ferocious, hungry lips as he kissed you with the fervor of a starving man.
It did not take long for Kyojuro to strip himself of his uniform; before long, he’d had you straddling his lap, hands braced on either side of your waist as he impaled you over and over upon his cock, jerking you up and down his length so fast, you gave up trying to match his pace.
Just before you felt yourself about to cum, Kyojuro’s hands dropped from their grip on your sides, resting instead on the curve of your ass before giving you a firm slap against your rear.
“Ride me,” he’d ground out through clenched teeth.
There was a second sting against your backside as Kyojuro slapped your cheek again to get you moving. For what felt like an eternity you rode him, pushing and grinding and dropping your cunt down on his length at a steady rhythm until your thighs quivered with the effort. Only when it felt like your legs were about to give out entirely, only when you whined his name so desperate and needy, did Kyojuro move.
He’d spent the rest of the night with you on your hands and knees, railing into you from behind with a ferocity that left you choking for breath. Over and over, Kyojuro rammed his hard, demanding length into your dripping cunt, the room filling with sounds of your cries and the squelching of your cunt with every fierce thrust of his hips. When your thighs began to shake once more, and you’d fallen forward against the bed from the force with which he fucked you, Kyojuro hadn’t relented. Instead, he’d only pushed one of your legs further up, bringing your knee level with your hips, and pressed his chest flush against your back as he chased his release.
He kept one hand on your bent leg, pinning it in place, and only moved the other from its bruising grip on your bicep to shove it between your legs, his rough thumb pressing harshly down on your clit until you came hard enough to see stars, your subsequent cry of pleasure loud enough to rattle the windows.
Kyojuro’s own release followed not long after that, though he’d fucked you right through it, until his seed was spilling over where the two of you were connected as he tried to fuck more into you.
But now, the Flame Pillar had exhausted all his aggression — and it seemed that he’d only just realized how pent up and frustrated he had been.
His steel-like arms slid under you, lifting you from the mattress to cradle you bridal-style against his chest. “Let me take care of you now, my flame.” He whispered, his lips grazing the sweaty expanse of your forehead. “Allow me to run you a bath.”
You nodded sleepily, turning your face to press your nose against his skin, inhaling deeply. “I’m glad you made it back,” you murmured between lazy kisses against his skin. “Stay here tonight.”
He usually did, but you always asked — just in case he didn’t know how much you wanted him beside you.
Kyojuro smiled softly, arms tightening around you in gratitude.
“I will, my love.”
Thank you for the banner @benkeibear !
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#rengoku kyojuro#kyojuro rengoku#requests!#kny#kny x reader#kny fanfic#kny rengoku#kny kyojuro#kny smut#demon slayer smut
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— WHEN THINGS WERE SIMPLE a Lee Minho fiction
⭐️ : Lee Minho(Leeknow) x fem. reader
TROPE. school romance, 90’s romance, bestfriends to lovers, online au, strangers to lovers, highschool au, small town au
WORD COUNT. 7.7k ☆ 37 minute read
WARNINGS. light cursing, deep conversation, two teenagers being madly in love(lmao), bankruptcy, anonymous online chatting between strangers — this is in no way recommending anyone to join anonymous chat rooms nor meet up with strangers irl!
AUG'S NOTES. this fic was heavily inspired by “Twenty Five Twenty One” (one of my favorite kdrama!!) and was based around the 90’s when today’s technology was just beginning, i hope you find this piece to your satisfaction! if so, please leave some feedback, thanks :)
PLAYLIST.
SYNOPSIS. Lee Minho, the newest resident in your small town, has already established a reputation as the Class President despite moving only a week ago. You, on the other hand, don’t really see the appeal, or maybe your schedule is too jam-packed to consider the prospect of boys. In the meantime, you join an anonymous chat room with this so-called "lino98," and eventually, the stranger recommends that you meet holding a yellow tulip and wait- is that who you think it is?
or alternatively :
Whoever you’ve been talking to in that chat room was definitely not who you thought would be standing in Marronnier Park with a yellow tulip in hand.
1999.
“Hey! The sign says no throwing!” You scold, rushing to fix the arm to the statue as the tires on the boy’s bike screech to a halt.
And suddenly, it feels like everything’s in slow motion when the perfectly kept head of brown hair swivels back to face you, sharp jawline and piercing eyes belonging to a model-looking stranger you’d never seen before.
Thursday morning was when you first met Minho. Although, you didn’t know his name then, nor that this interaction－the daily magazine breaking your statue’s arm－would change your life.
.
.
.
His expression drops, looking rather bored despite your obviously frazzled (and flustered) state.
“How much?” The bewilderingly attractive boy asks, and it takes you a moment to register what he said, repeatedly glancing from the statue back to him like he was speaking a foreign language.
“It’s.. It’s priceless.” You huff, regarding the stranger with a hard glare as if he’d broken some holy vase or something.
He didn’t.
In fact, the only reason you felt so worked up was because once your parents saw the statue, you’d be grounded in an instant. You, on the other hand, could care less about the stupid piece of marble.
Something about his gaze sets you off, not to mention when he flashes a cheeky grin screaming nothing but trouble.
“Is that so? Then I guess it’s especially priceless now, huh.” He shrugged, kicking the kickstand up and hiking his leg over the seat.
You freeze in your spot, equally stunned with both shock and confusion.
Huh? Where is he going.
Is this guy serious!?
“What’re you- hold on- you can’t just leave!” Racing after him while he positively sped ahead of you on bike, you endlessly shout, slowing down to a halt after a few minutes to watch his silhouette disappear below the winding road traveling down to the village.
Hunched over to catch your breath, you mumble silent curses, dragging heavy footsteps up the small arrangement of stairs to try hiding the broken part behind the statue the best you can.
Brushing off your clothes and adjusting the straps to your bag, you start down the same way he left, stomping and groveling in your misery similar to that of a child denied their favorite toy. It’s quite a sight.
Tomorrow, you’ll give that attractive-Mail-Boy-whose-name-unknown a piece of your mind. You’re sure of it.
Entering the classroom, the first thing piquing your ears wasn’t Soyeon and Hyomin’s daily bickering match about the most random topics (the two you and Yuqi are certain are going to marry one day), but hushed whispering amongst each other.
So, accepting your role as a certified nosy person, you crouch across Yuqi’s desk, craning to make out her way-too-fast-to-be-normal conversation with Rei.
“Psst, Rei, what’s going on?” Blabbering on about whatever the school had been gossiping about, the girl swiftly turned to you, face alight with excitement.
“Have you seen the new guy? He’s an actor, I’m sure of it!”
…Of course. You should’ve known.
Nothing would have Taeyang High School falling over itself faster than a new handsome face.
How disappointing.
Not that you don’t appreciate a good looking person when you see one, but seriously, it could’ve been the upcoming volume of Full House or a class barbecue, something you deemed much more swoon worthy than a boy.
Yet, the transfer student who opened the door mere seconds later looked eerily familiar.
The Mail boy who mutilated your statue this morning is standing there, or are your eyes playing tricks on you? Maybe you’re sleeping at home and this is all a dream. Please be a dream please be a dream please be a dream- Ow!
Pinching yourself did hurt , you were awake, and it was Mail Boy at the front of the class introducing himself.
This week was already off to a great start.
Snapping out of your nightmare to notice him walking in your direction past giggling, lovestruck students to find a seat, you frantically shield either side of your face with your hands. Behind you, Han Jisung, your second best friend to Yuqi, cocks a brow as the boy fortunately takes a seat two rows ahead of you.
It feels like your heart is thundering in your chest with every breath you take, shaking your skull with it’s deafening beating. Any second now he could turn around, and you don’t know why, but the thought of that critiquing stare landing on you again gives you incessant goosebumps.
Sitting through homeroom has never been so suffocating-ly awful, and Jisung can tell when he comes over after class ends, plopping backwards in the chair in front of you to wince at the face you’re pulling.
“I’m cursed, Jisung—“ You childishly squirm, flopping around like some self-acclaimed grub.
Your classmate huffs a humorless chuckle, helping fix a messy strand of your hair before raising from his spot.
“Don’t worry, It’ll only get worse from here. ‘Want a Banana milk?”
Shitty Han Jisung and his shitty personality. Way to lift your spirits, asshole.
“You suck.”
“Two Banana milks it is!” He slaps the wood surface of your desk, breaking into an unaffected smile while hurrying off to the vending machines. Perhaps you’ll just mope till next class, brainstorm the easiest way to glue your statue back together and leave the country while you’re at it.
Abruptly, the minimal view of the classroom from where your head’s wedged between your arms is invaded by a green color, slowly peeking out only to be met with dollar bills waved in front of your face.
Now this had to be a dream. Han Jisung is never fast when it comes to vending machines, usually ogling at options the latest one installed in the cafeteria offers.
Also, for the record, he’s dirt poor like most of the students here.
“Fifty dollars for the damage.”
Damn it!
Still not a dream, because the crisp cash held out to you is none other than Mail Boys’ (a.k.a. Minho’s), staring down at you like you were some insect scurrying near his polished shoes... Or maybe that’s your interpretation of how he’s looking at you.
“This should cover any fees for fixing the statue, I don’t want to deal with you hunting me down every morning when I pass by.” He grumbles, patting the money next to your hand.
You gawk, amazed that he considered at all. What left you more amazed? How he had this amount of money in the first place as a student. Applying for a delivery job may not be so bad after all. That or he does own polished shoes, fancy clothes and a suit with his picture-ready hair and all.
He might as well scream in everyone’s face that he’s rich waving those dollar bills around.
“Keep it. It’s already bad enough it’s broken but it’ll be worse if I have money. Unlike you, I pride myself in being poor.”
There’s that terrifying, critiquing stink-eye again.
“..but my parents don’t, and they would think I stole something.” You quietly add, and Minho almost snorts, appearing to be having a difficult time withholding his bubbling laugh.
Before he can respond though, Jisung steps through the door, stopping in his tracks upon noticing what's going on, beverages in hand.
Noticing the elephant in the room, Minho slides the money closer your way and walks out, leaving you with awkward silence, fifty dollars, and too many questions.
Well, until both Banana milks slam down and your friend snatches the bills with a loud gasp, boba eyes round as saucers.
“Holy shit! I haven’t seen fifty dollars in like, four years. Is that Minho guy your secret boyfriend? Was that why you were acting so weird earlier?”
Not helping with the too many questions part, Jisung. And a secret boyfriend? Does this guy even know you?
“Absolutely not,” You cross your arms, being sure he sees your excessive eye-roll. “He broke my statue.”
In those few seconds of silence you swore he went through at least eight phases of contemplation trying to figure out the context attached to what you said, deciding to just blankly squint till you spilled your guts.
“So you’re telling me,” He points his finger at some imaginary diagram on the desk, focus flickering in every direction trying to connect the dots. “That Mail Boy, no, Lee Minho, threw the newspaper, broke your statue and ran off? This morning?”
There’s a doubtful lilt to his voice while you hurriedly nod, praying the boy will believe you despite how insane it sounds—despite how insane it really was.
“And this isn’t because he’s attractive?”
You cough.
“I mean, he’s attractive, but-“Aha! Finally! A prospect! Looks like my lovely Y/n won’t die alone after all.” Jisung places an over dramatic hand over his heart and you open your mouth, ready to tell him off before the bell rings and all hope of earning any sympathy flies out the window.
Nonetheless, confessing your grievances to the ferociously blunt Yuqi and expecting the newest volume of Full House after school wasn't usually the highlight of your day, but you've come to accept anything away from Mail Boy should be counted as a highlight at this point.
Come to think of it, you haven’t seen the god forbidden statue-killer since morning class.
Eh. He’s probably massacring some more neighborhood statues. He seems like he’d have weird hobbies anyway.
“Sounds a bit like you’re into him if you ask me,” She chews her sandwich, and you might’ve thrown up in your mouth a little bit.
Absolutely not. Your education is far too important to be interrupted by this transfer student. Plus, he also seems uninterested in love, right? It works out .. totally.
“C’mon Yuqi, you know me. The only thing I’m into is good grades and college admission.” You slump against the bench, absentmindedly stealing a few grapes from the girl.
Seriously though, falling in love is not on your roster for high school. At least not for now.
Nope. Take it back. No love. None. Nope.
Yuqi gasping like someone stabbed her seems to pull you from your loophole headspace, grabbing your arm excitedly.
“Oh my gosh! Doesn’t Volume Eleven come out today?” She says, and you might’ve just ascended to heaven.
Ah. Forget good grades and college admission, you’re in love with Full House. Save the boys for later.
She didn’t need to say anymore, because in the blink of an eye you were full sprinting out the gates, mind trained on one thing and one thing only.
Practically singing to yourself with glee, you swing open the door of Myeongjin DVD store, calling out an equally singsong, “Sir— did you save the newest release for m-…”
Huh.
You know those scenes in movies where all the music stops and everything seems to just freeze? Yeah, this was one of those moments.
“Hm?” Is what he responds with.
What Lee Minho responds with, working behind the front desk sorting through rentals.
Come to think of it, this is the first time you’re calling him by his actual name and not Mail Boy.
Strange.
“Ah.. Ahem .. The new volume of Full House, is it saved for me?” You gradually pique, bouncing back and forth on your heels.
Things should be settled by now between you two after he paid you back and all, but you just couldn’t seem to shake the awkwardness compiling in your gut. Like this strange boy that showed up (literally) on your doorstep would get you into trouble.
Placing the book he’d been checking down, he picks up a bulletin board, finger scouring the titles before glancing at you.
“Full House? Nope, we’re all out.”
“Thanks- WHAT?! Look, you might not know, but I’m pretty much the owner’s daughter,” You explain matter-a-factly, cocking your brows expectantly. What kind of stunt you were pulling you didn’t know. Either way, you’d use the many years you lived here before him to the utmost advantage.
Turns out, you definitely should’ve remembered how Lee Minho earned his reputation in the first place.
“So sorry, he didn’t say anything about his beloved daughter paying a visit today.” The man in front of you leans forward, head tilted in a conniving manner.
What. A. Prick.
Jesus he looks good right now.
Opening your mouth to bite back, deja vú plows through like a bus when he cuts you off, light smirk gracing the edges of his lips. Mocking, like when you first met. Mocking.
“But, I’ll be sure to tell you when more are in stock. Deal?”
Oh how you want to beat his stupidly handsome face in.
“Deal.”
Settling down into your chair and repeatedly clicking the cream colored mouse, you watch the blue background fill the screen along with the other person’s username.
Only on stressful nights would you log back into the anonymous chat rooms. Except today wasn’t necessarily stressful, more just leaving you in denial without Volume eleven in hand.
Somehow, these conversations were thrilling in their own, odd ways. Not knowing if the person is your best friend or your worst enemy made the experience all the more fun.
Recently, you'd begun chatting with Lino98, a kind person who apparently moved not too long ago. They gave you the best advice and would always joke around like friends while you talked about love, grades, and anything at all.
In a sense, they were your friend.
YOU: Lino98?
LINO98: Hm?
YOU: What do you want to do in the future? Now that we’re getting older, I’ve been thinking about it a lot
LINO98: Well that’s a random question
YOU: Shhh just answer
LINO98: Okay okay, mine is way out there and pretty unrealistic for a student, but
LINO98: I want to be a dancer
YOU: Wowー dancer? As in, dancing on stage?
LINO98: What else would a dancer do ㅎㅎ
YOU: You know what I mean!! But being a dancer is a good dream. You’ll have to work hard, but it’s your passion, so I shouldn’t be one to judge
LINO98: You’re sweet, saying that
YOU: Hey hey don’t get all sappy
LINO98: I mean it ㅋㅋㅋ
You smile, fingers rapidly typing to keep up with the replies. They had a wild dream, sure, but Lino98 had their own aspirations, and you wondered if maybe in the future you’d see them on TV.
See them in real life. Now that was a thought. Heck, you didn’t even know if they were a boy or girl.
Oh god, what if Lino98 was one of your classmates? Worst case scenario it’d be Minho.
Although, that would never happen, the chances were too slim.
Too slim.. but not impossible. In fact, very much possible because no matter how small the chance is it could always become realit- “Y/n!”
You jump, reaching to turn off the old monitor.
There’s a shuffle outside of your door, the woman’s head peering in momentarily. You have an idea of what she's going to say next seeing you in front of the computer.
“You’d better not be on those chat rooms, I told you they’re dangerous. Also, could you run to the market? I’m missing bean sprouts.”
Bingo.
Patting the doorframe, she disappears once more.
You know she’s right. Sure it could pose a threat, but you’re a student, and adult things like being worried about safety could come later.
However, running into Mail Boy there could also come later, and you debated on turning around before he noticed you. That was, until you remembered the unfortunate errand you’d made the trip for in the first place.
.
.
The last person he expected to find at Ahyeon Market was you, looking equally as shocked with his appearance here as well. Still clad in uniform, he motions from his place on the outdoor bench, patting the spot next to him.
If gears could literally be seen turning in someone’s head he's certain he would have witnessed an entire mechanical process by now, rather amusedly analyzing your angel and devil conversation with cat-like observation.
“I don’t bite y’know,” Breaking the quiet lull, he clicks his tongue, earning a suspicious look.
“And how am I supposed to believe you.” Question rhetorical (he assumes), you approach him slowly, testing, like he’d pounce at one wrong move. The tempting urge to jump and scare you briefly crosses his mind.
“Because,” He bites back a grin. “Our Volume eleven pact, remember?”
Almost instantly, the tense atmosphere dissolves and you plop down beside him followed by hushed “Yeah, yeah”'s muttered under your breath. Barely twenty seconds pass though before you’re bolting to upward (and ironically scaring him instead), glancing left and right.
“I’ll get some Banana milk.” You bolt to the small fridge unit, lips focusedly pursed cashing in your coins.
Minho can’t help but smile to himself at your unbothered-ness, your easiness. You’re kind, not to mention brutally honest on occasions. It’s reassuring being around you, like he doesn’t have to worry about anything. Like, in some sense, his youth is returning to him. Piece by piece.
“Here.” Your voice has his head swiveling, holding a small cartridge for him to take.
“So.. Why’d you transfer here?”
He stares at the drink for a while, though your eyes never stray from his, observing him contemplating, thinking. Cat-like, you agree. Minho greatly resembles a feline.
“You like this stuff, huh.”
“Jisung got me hooked on it, you don’t want it?” Knitting your brows and greedily pulling the drink to yourself, he’s quick to reach forward, grabbing your hand in his.
You hesitate, both frantically searching each other's face before Minho snatches the Banana milk from you, tone suddenly doused in nervousness.
“No- I do, thanks.”
Liar. He hates Banana milk, but he’ll drink it. For you he will.
There’s that feeling again, blooming in his chest and warming up his entire body.
Weird.
It’s like he’s a three year old crushing on his classmate again, awkward and young. In love.
Anyone unlucky enough to witness this obvious pining deserves a written letter of apology.
“Mm..” You hum quietly, aggressively poking your straw through the paper lid.
Minho’s lips form a tight line, fixating on the rotation of his own straw as he aimlessly moves the drink in his hand from side to side.
“My family went bankrupt. That’s why I moved.”
Pausing your movement, you nod quickly and he feels a pang of guilt strike his chest. He shouldn’t have told you that, should’ve kept the comfort and ignored the question. Way to ruin it, jerk.
“What was your first impression of me?” Changing the subject, he clears his throat from the chilling air. So long for the summer heat.
“First impression?” You mimic, appearing deep in thought for a reason he couldn’t help but feel nervous about. Nervous for what, he couldn’t name.
There were lots of things he “couldn’t” when it came to you. It makes things interesting, makes you interesting. Life isn’t boring when with you, something he realizes the longer you accompany him, vice versa.
He can’t make sense of the feeling, ironically enough. Another “can’t”.
“Well, If you want me to be honest,” Glancing over at him from your earlier focus on a neon road sign, you lift your brows, awaiting his signal to go on.
“I thought you were cold, rude, not to mention a pain in the butt. Also, I’m not kidding when I say I was convinced you were a rich and spoiled brat-“ Rapid waving of his hands in front of you stops your train of thought.
“Are- are you being serious or just insulting me.” He interrupts, deadpanning while sending you a rather confused, nonsensical look.
“Dead serious. You wanted the truth after all.” You shrug your shoulders and Minho chokes a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.
Unbelievable. Absolutely, unforgivably, unbelievable.
“And what about now?”
More thinking.
“You’re nice to be around, but still a pain in the butt.” Shuffling on the pavement, you pull your coat tighter around yourself, gaze flitting to the crack of smile pulling at the corners of his lips.
With the streetlights automatically turning on, without response, simply a soft look from the boy, he steps forward and wordlessly beckons for you to follow.
Walk home with me, an inaudible invitation, and you tag along accordingly.
He doesn’t want to go home, but he won’t tell you that. In fact, he dreads going home to a silent house. He won’t tell you that either.
Truth being, Minho hadn’t been this happy in ages, and being by you, talking to you, getting to know you and everything in between has brilliant shades of color decorating his black and white world. If only he could muster up the courage to tell you that.
“Shoot!”
Panickedly facing you, surprise lay evident on his usually unwavering features.
“I forgot bean sprouts! Hold on, I’ll be right back.” You pronounce, disappearing inside the Market with the boy right on your heels.
Arriving at the register, he places his wallet on the counter before you could fetch cash from your pocket. Turning to him, you poke an accusing finger against his chest, fixing your attractive friend with a hard stare.
“Minho, I told you rich people paying for poor people isn’t ‘nice’, it just makes us look pitiful.” You pout, and the boy resists the overbearing urge to coo not only from how unfairly adorable you look right now but hearing his name come out of your mouth for the first time as well.
Adorable. What was he thinking using a word like that anyway? He meant something else .. another, descriptive word for something cute… Nevermind.
“Think of it as me paying you back for the Banana Milk.” Giving in the tiniest bit, he lands a small nudge against your side, earning an equally playful shove back.
Laughter envelops the both of you, walking from the store with bean sprouts in clutch and pink hues decorating your cheeks whether from giggling or something else. Swinging the bag beside you, a fleeting thought of holding it for you crosses Minho’s mind. Should he? What if you say no and things become awkward again?
God, why is he complicating things so much recently. Just do it, Minho. It’s not that difficult.
“You know how much I gave the cashier for those drinks?”
Quickly pulling his hand away from where it reached for the plastic, his grimace becomes instantly replaced with feigned curiosity in hopes you didn’t notice.
Holding eye contact has never been difficult for Minho. In fact, he’s a pro at it …with everyone but you. So when you study him with those brilliant eyes, he can feel his ears burning bright red.
“Yeah? How much?” He mischievously replied, watching you light up.
You have a particular smile, the one that transforms your face so prettily, the one that makes his heart thunder in his chest. He really likes that smile.
“Ten dollars. Can you believe it? I could buy a mansion with that money.” You hum sarcastically, tumbling all over the sidewalk while being kindly beckoned away from the road by the concerned boy.
“Hey Minho?”
He turns to you.
“What do you wanna do when you grow up? Y’know, after High school and University.”
Opening his mouth to respond, he can’t help but find the question eerily familiar.
“Since I was a kid I wanted to be a Dancer. I actually auditioned a few days ago, but I probably won’t make it.” The dark haired man humorlessly laughs, actively avoiding your attention.
You frown, he doesn’t notice.
“You don’t know that. I don’t know what I want to do, but riding in a sports car sounds nice. It doesn’t have to be realistic, we’re young.”
There it is. This was the easiness he was thinking of, your unbothered-ness. All of the things he finds himself smiling about. The things he looks forward to dropping off your mail in the morning to see.
“..A sports car?”
Once comfortable silence interrupted by his snickering, you wack his arm for the nth time that night, sending him a faux glare.
“Oh look! It’s my stop!” You interject, hiking up the stairs to turn around and see him looking up at you, eyes crinkled with a small smile adorning his face.
“I’ll see you tomorrow! Goodnight, Minho.”
Minho thinks you're very, very cute.
“Goodnight, Y/n.”
Minho hopes you think he’s cute too.
Days go by, some long, some short, with August feeling extremely drawn-out and uncomfortable—leaves gradually beginning to brown for autumn.
As for September, you’re still waiting for Volume eleven from Minho, incessantly dropping by the DVD store to annoy him into leaking some info about when the next batch will be shipped.
“It’ll be next week”, “It’ll be next week”, “It’ll be next week,” is what he always says every week until you’re quite certain next week has happened four times already.
On a different note other than your Full House dilemma and impending exams, Minho had been elected Class President, Soyeon and Hyomin are getting closer to officially dating (from you and Yuqi’s observations), and Jisung is currently keeping count of how many girls confess to Mail Boy each semester.
Don’t ask about the last one.
Expecting someone like Yuqi to be running up to you so early on your walk through the school gates, you blink twice to realize it’s Minho instead, something in hand and positively glowing with cheerfulness.
“Y/n!”
Spinning around, you mirror his overwhelming energy and narrowly dodge getting run over in the process.
“Guess what.” He grins, looking scarily enthusiastic compared to usual.
“What?” You ask, already lost in the way his caramel globes for eyes seem to practically sparkle.
“I got accepted! I’m going to be a trainee!” Shoving the acceptance paper in your face, you scream, covering your mouth in disbelief.
To say you both jumped is an understatement, basically frolicking around the courtyard like lunatics. Well, before you realized the entire jumping and frolicking thing and hurriedly returned to your normal, stiff high school selves.
“Also, the Full House shipment came in this morning.”
…
He’s kidding. You’re kidding.
Oh my god you could kiss him right now. Good thing you didn’t say that out loud.
Running as fast as you possibly could with the boy yelling for you to slow down, you mercilessly slam the door open, manically searching through boxes until the beloved, astounded, mystifying book rests peacefully in hand.
Heaven’s gates should’ve opened up by now.
Taking his sweet time as if this wasn’t one of the greatest moments in life, your counterpart casually strolls up to the register, appearing to check out the rental despite holding your precious book hostage after scanning the barcode.
“You don’t care about me making the cut, do you?” He pouts, lip pitifully jutting out.
Mouth left agape, you swiftly bite back what you’d planned to say about the deal, stumbling over sentences to find an excuse.
“I do! I swear! Now give me the book.. please?” Sporting the most genuine tone you could manage, you snatch the book he begrudging lowered down, hugging the prized possession close to your chest.
“Fine, liar.”
Yikes, talk about a grumpy face. He looked like a kicked puppy. You didn’t even think that expression was possible for Lee Minho.
However, you also didn’t think it was possible to feel sort of upset about it. Not his grumpy face, no, but him getting accepted. Wasn’t this a happy occasion? Volume eleven was released and finally in your possession and your friend was now going to be a trainee, now going to chase his dream of becoming a dancer.
So why did you feel sad walking back to school?
It felt wrong, you felt wrong, and the disgusting feeling only grew worse as the day went on. Heck, looking through pages and squealing with Yuqi—an activity that normally helped lift your spirits—didn't feel as reviving.
Later that day you asked him when he’d be leaving to train, leaving for Seoul, far from here. You dreaded the question, but at least it gave you time to prepare in a sense.
“January,” he replied, eating his apple as if it wasn’t the end of September, as if your heart wasn’t splintering into a billion tiny pieces.
Perhaps somewhere, hidden in his unaffected façade, he felt a tad bit upset like you did.
‘It doesn’t have to be realistic, we’re young.’ You recalled assuring him at Ahyeon Supermarket back in August, thinking it wasn’t going to be real, believing it wasn’t going to become reality.
If only you had known.
Adult things were climbing from the busy city into your small town. You weren’t ready.
So when life becomes increasingly overbearing, you log back in.
YOU: Today has been so draining.. I want to wake up and everything to be a dream
LINO98: Need to vent?
YOU: I thought you’d never ask ㅠㅠ
LINO98: Alright alright, go on
YOU: Well I have a friend, and he’s getting to do something he’s always wanted, but it means he’ll have to go away for a while and I can’t help but feel sad
LINO98: Feeling sad is normal, there’s nothing wrong with that
LINO98: It makes you feel like everything you’ve done with them was taken for granted, don’t you think?
YOU: That’s exactly what it’s like
YOU: If you're okay with it, could we meet up and talk? I mean, we’ve been talking for a while now and I just thought
LINO98: Would Marronnier Park work?
YOU: Didn't think you’d be so willing
LINO98: What can I say, we work well together
YOU: How will we find each other though?
LINO98: Hm.. theres that flower shop nearby, right? Bring a yellow tulip and I will too, good?
YOU: Tomorrow at noon?
LINO98: I’ll be there
Yellow tulip, noon, tomorrow. You sigh a stretching grin, clicking the small exit button before flopping onto your bed.
Only downside of this would have to be your inability to sleep, mind unable to calm itself down as you lay awake. Tomorrow you meet Lino98, someone truly cherished for all their help and kindness.
Eyes slowly drifting closed, you can’t help but hope meeting them in real life will ease some of your troubles. Even just a tad.
Springing from bed that morning, you make your daily stop at Myeongjin DVD store, attempting to drag Minho outside to grab dessert with you while he complains of having plans.
You grumble, growling to him you’ll enjoy the sweet treat more by yourself, his saccharine farewell fading into the distance as you close the door behind you.
Luckily, there wasn’t anything that could truly damage your happiness today(despite really wanting to get desserts with Minho) while picking up a yellow tulip on your way to the meeting location.
Gosh, your stomach was doing backflips right now.
Locating the park’s sign, you stopped and patted yourself down for a moment.
Alright. Now time to start guessing. Would they be a girl? Be a boy? Maybe they’d be Yuqi. That would be hysterical. You mean, you’re soulmates at this point, it’d make plenty of sense.
Venturing inside, you shuffle between people in search of the same flower being in someone else’s grip till finally spotting it, hidden between two people in front of you.
If they would just scoot over a little bit.. there! Now you can see ...them.
Oh.
Making eye contact, you watch them realize, beginning to back up.
You don’t know why you run away, you don’t know why your legs won’t stop and why the person keeps calling out behind you.
Funny that the slim chance you mentioned turned out to be true.
Today you met Lino98, someone you'd truly cherished for all their help and kindness prior to learning who they were.
Today you met Lino98 at Marrionner Park holding a yellow tulip, but the person in front of you was Lee Minho, flower in hand and staring directly back at you.
December gradually rolls around, and usually you’re ecstatic seeing all the lights and festivals Taeyang High hosts as Christmas and new years approaches, especially with next year marking a new millennium.
After the news of Minho’s departure though, it’s hard enjoying the holidays knowing he’ll be leaving only a week or so into January.
No. You should soak up your last month or so. This is the most important part, you can’t be miserable when he hasn’t even left yet.
Despite how badly you want to see him all the time, nothing came easy with his identity revealed.
You weren’t angry nor embarrassed. And initially, you didn’t feel anything, you just stared at him across the park, wondering if all of these coincidences were dreams, your loneliness causing hallucinations of a sort.
Regarding the running away part, that was more of a “need to get my thoughts together” reflex, a desperate and last resort you now deeply regretted holed up in your room with Yuqi’s voice ringing through the home phone.
Yes, you’d like to say you dealt with the matter like a responsible almost-adult.
You didn’t.
“Yuqi… I’m ruining my own life and I can’t do anything to stop it..” You hiccup, loud sobs echoing through the empty household.
She clicks her tongue, once patient and understanding persona instantaneously snapping.
“Yah!” The girl shouts, and you flinch on the other side of the line. “Keep saying stuff like that and you really will ruin your own life! I know no one warned you that falling in love with him would be like this, but seriously, I am not letting you waste this last month avoiding each other!!”
In spite of her reprimanding you, her intentions are clearly aimed towards wanting the best for the both of you, and you know you should be grateful in return.
“I’m not in love with.. My god I am in love with him, what do I do—“ You drag out, dissolving into more cries.
It’s true, both her point and the fact that you’re unabashedly in love with him. All of it. From first meeting him, avoiding him, making up, becoming close and convincing yourself you weren’t looking for a relationship, and now avoiding him again. You’ve always had that feeling, that lingering affection teetering back and forth between the line of friends and lovers.
Although, your friend’s sigh suddenly gets cut off by another person, and you briefly wonder if her younger brother took it before making out the name Yuqi yelled in the distance.
“Yeesh you sound ugly when you cry.”
Is that.. Jisung?
“Han Jisung, give me back the phone!”
Jisung over at Yuqi’s house. Weird.
“Just one seconds this is important~” He whines, and from the sounds of it is also currently running away from what you assume to be a raging Yuqi.
“Okay so Yuqi, Soyeon, Hyomin and I are planning the craziest new years bash ev-“HAN JISUNG!” Phone finally finding its way back to the original holder, you can hear sly giggles echoing in the background.
She audibly groans and you can easily imagine her hands threading through long blonde locks of hair, probably visibly resisting the urge to bury her companion. You can’t help but smile.
Just so you know, only Jisung and I are here so don’t worry about the public humiliatio- aw shit there's thirty seconds left on the call- anyways, be sure to stop by my place on the 31st, we have a surprise for you!” Time limit ending without another word, you take the time to connect the dots with Jisung’s “new years bash” and Yuqi’s “surprise”, to expect a small party of some kind.
With those two arranging it, you don’t know what to expect.
Why not? The reasons to say no are basically nonexistent.
Christmas break officially starting, students clambering from school grounds, and your daily “avoiding Minho” schedule on hold now that you’re out till the end of January, the anticipation of this upcoming party creeps closer. That, and how you plan to talk to Minho.
You aren’t stupid, and you didn’t ignore what Yuqi had said about avoiding each other either, fully aware of how essential coming to terms was for the sake of your friendship, and at least for you, for the sake of your love too.
The real question was when, something you’re still trying to figure out on the 30th of December. Way to procrastinate.
Before tonight you’d never hesitated talking to Lino98 (Minho), deleting your message at least a dozen times before clicking the send button and preparing to hide under your comforter for the rest of the night. Keyword: preparing. Because when you anxiously peered between your fingers to see a response beneath your message, you might have just jumped out of your skin.
YOU: Hey, can we talk?
LINO98: I thought you’d never ask
YOU: About meeting up.. I want you to know I’m really not mad at you
LINO98: You can be honest, Y/n
YOU: I am, promise
YOU: It’s so much easier talking online than in person, but I really want to see you
LINO98: Same, but I doubt I’ll be able to say the same things in person
YOU: I think that’s something we can both agree on
LINO98: Hm
YOU: I’m busy tomorrow, but maybe the next day?
LINO98: Seems we still work well together
YOU: Don't say that, I’ll get PTSD..
LINO98: Sorry sorry ㅜㅜ
Little did you know you were both busy doing the same thing after nobody mentioned Minho would be at the party as well, too stunned to speak seeing him sit around the enormous pile of snacks and drinks laying in the middle of the floor.
However, you found it in yourself, not only because of the minimal time you had left but also because of your conversation last night, to move past the tension.
Like adults.
What a bizarre phrase coming from you.
And it looked as if he felt the same too.
Lively conversation filled up the small space, and six kids, six adults, sat around an army of junk food and held a pitiful excuse for a party while using this time together to forget, if just for a moment, about life outside the room.
You couldn’t have had more fun talking and catching up, not to mention the curdling screaming when Hyomin and Soyeon announced that they were officially dating, bouncing around whilst stuck in Yuqi’s bone-crushing hug of delight.
The clock ticked on the wall, and after hours of bringing back old memories and suggesting new ones, a few attendees began to slip away, gradually leaving only you, Minho, and Yuqi to occupy her living room.
She yawned beside you, half-lidded eyes making her sleepiness rather apparent. Patting your shoulder, the girl rose up, trudging toward the door.
“Alright I’m tapping out, see you guys next year.” She quietly mused and you cracked a sarcastic laugh, both wishing her good night before the sound of the knob clicked shut behind her.
It’s just you two now, watching the live broadcast in a numbing peacefulness. It stays like that for a long time, basking in the presence you’d been deprived of after that fateful day.
You stifle a chuckle.
“It wasn’t my intention to fall in love with you, but I guess I couldn’t help it.” You wistfully smile, back leaning against the wall clad in your heavy sweater and socks.
You hear him take a deep breath.
“I could say the same,” He whispers, eyes trained on the celebration airing on TV. “I bet you were upset that I’m Lino98.”
You pull your knees closer to yourself, listening to the two minute warning the reporter announces.
The room once busied becomes quiet apart from television chatter and your hushed talking. In a few minutes it’ll be a new Millennium, the 2000’s.
You should feel happy, knowing you’ll graduate soon, knowing that a new year is beginning. You’ve tried, truly, but you can’t find it in yourself, not with the circumstances.
“I’m not upset. I was just being selfish because I didn’t want it to be any harder seeing you leave.”
The circumstances seem to steal everything away. Minho must know that much better than you do.
Except you have this moment right here, right now, that the circumstances haven’t taken away yet.
He utters a pained sound, a sound that feels like crying. You don’t dare say anything.
“Don’t people,” He stops, waiting for you to look to your right, look at him and his glossy eyes. You’ve never seen Minho emotional, and you wish you never had. It feels cruel. Immeasurably cruel.
“As I speak, we have ten seconds till 2000.”
He opens his mouth again.
“Kiss on new years?”
You can hear the countdown begin.
“Ten!”
Minho has a wistful smile, dancing from your eyes to your lips.
“Nine!”
Should you take the chance?
“Eight!”
Will this hurt you?
“Seven!”
Haven’t you been hurting enough?
“Six!”
He’s leaving in a few days.
“Five!”
It’s now or never.
“Four!”
You lean forward, lips softly connecting with his. They’re soft, his lips, and he angles your head from side to side with a gentle touch, palms enveloping your cheeks, holding you close. Your skin feels like it’s on fire. Everything feels like it’s on fire. Ferociously alight and blazing.
“Three!”
He whispers something between your lips, you can’t hear it.
“Two!”
Partially, you feel grateful you couldn’t.
“One!”
Fireworks burst in your peripheral, littering the screen with a bountiful assortment of lights and cheers.
The new year had begun, and so had a different chapter in everyone’s lives. Both your classmates, and especially yours and Minho’s.
“Let’s welcome the year 2000!”
2000.
LINO98: Don’t get too excited, but I’m outside your house, come quick
YOU: Didn’t we see each other yesterday?
LINO98: Are you saying you’d rather stay in? I thought you loved me
YOU: Fine you big baby, but I’m going back to sleep after this
LINO98: Sounds good to me〜
You groan, dragging yourself out of your covers at the speed of a turtle to organize the unruly chaos ensuing in your disheveled hair and pull on your shoes.
In all honesty, you can’t even remember how you got home last night, only recalling that Minho tasted like Coca cola and that you had a roaring headache.
Minho tasted like Coca cola. You kissed Minho.
Wow.
Maybe the adrenaline had taken over last night considering how your face erupted red merely thinking about it the next morning.
A honk sounds outside and you jump slightly, mind sifting through ideas of what exactly the boy had gotten himself into this time. With Han Jisung’s influence yesterday, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was in a fancy sports car or something.
Scratch that, he was in a fancy sports car, and you had to blink repeatedly to check if you were awake.
Did he have a license? Wait, nevermind, since when did he own a car?
“What is this, you may ask?” He gestures to the bright red convertible Mustang, tipping down the sunglasses perched on his nose with a cock of his brow. “Well, since I‘m getting to do what I wanted when I got older, I thought it was only fair you got to do what you wanted to too. Sports car, right? Hop in.”
Oh. My. God.
You just keep falling in love with Minho over and over again.
Breathing a laugh of disbelief, shock, and every other emotion making a pit stop while standing in your pajamas, you cross your arms, sending him a suspicious stare.
“And might I ask how you got your hands on this thing?” Smile threatening to appear, you stave down the urge, struggling to maintain your unconvinced poise under his watchful eye.
“Let’s just say I know a friend who knows a friend-“Y/n! What happened to our statue?!” Your mothers shouts from up the stairs and you practically leap into the passenger seat, frantically urging him to step on the gas.
“Only took her a few months,” Your personal driver huffs amusedly, quickly putting the vehicle in reverse to flee the scene. Ah.. You’re not looking forward to the trip home.
Luckily, you’re not home, and you hope you won’t be for a while. Instead, you’re driving through side roads with Minho and his stupidly attractive sunglass-clad self, and it feels like you’ve just started high school again.
Minutes pass, maybe hours. You wouldn’t have been able to tell, too caught up enjoying it. The sights, the smells, the sounds, all of it. Enjoying everything.
Slowing down to pull into a small alcove overlooking the ocean, the boy leans his seat back and you do the same, warm sun baking down on the dark interior. You reach a hand forward, fingers tangling with his.
“Can we stay like this forever?”
He smiles.
“Forever it is.”
2009.
Scooting the metal chair to the side, Minho takes a seat, adjusting the collar of his shirt that earns a few screams here and there alongside the merciless flash of camera shutters swarming in every direction. Today marks his first fansign as a group, as a member of Stray Kids by the stage name Lee Know.
Exhilarating, perhaps. Terrifying, also perhaps.
Initially, he was anxious, worried he’d come off as cold and rigid followed by the other lovely assortment of offensive adjectives you used to describe him standing outside of school that day in August.
Life was different then, just as it is now. Although, he’s not unhappy with how things turned out, nor how life changed since high school.
Tonight you’d text him (like you did every night since he first left) about the fansign, asking if he found anyone cute (the answer would always be you) and telling him about your day, your changed life.
He’d listen, give his most-always teasing input, smile at your equally teasing retort and tell you to eat well and take care of yourself.
“Good morning Minho— ah, wait, I should call you Lee Know now, shouldn’t I?”
A voice stirs from in front of him and he’s certain he’s officially going insane. But no, it does belong to you, in the flesh, mesmerizing eyes disappearing as you grinned while plopping down onto the stool below.
“Do me a favor and act really obsessed with me for a minute, I want to make your fans jealous,” You giggle, leaning closer to whisper the petty request.
In the midst of his shock he scoffs, appearing profusely offended.
“And you still suck at introductions. Not even a congratulations, ouch.” The brown-haired now-Idol frowns, behaving more like a child than ever before.
His status as a normal person might’ve developed (Minho was never a normal person), but he still retained the maturity of a twelve year old.
“Oh, dearest apologies my beloved Lee Know.” Basically gagging, you balance your chin on your hand, once teasing expression replaced with a smile that makes his heart downright ache.
“Congratulations on becoming a dancer, Minho. I missed you.”
sunboki, may 2022 ©
FIC TAGLIST. @dorisnumber1fan @mal-lunar-28 @httphans @virluna148 @bettybeako @grannyindehouse @minhaurloml @ylixbok @inkelea @luna585 @hyunbae-35
#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#straykids x reader#stray kids x you#stray kids x y/n#stray kids fluff#stray kids angst#straykids x you#straykids angst#straykids fluff#skz fluff#skz angst#lee know x y/n#lee know x reader#lee know fluff#skz lee know#lee know angst#lee know x you#straykids lee know#lee minho fluff#lee minho x y/n#lee minho x you#lee minho x reader#lee minho angst#skz lee minho#leeknow x y/n#leeknow fluff#leeknow x you#leeknow x reader#skz leeknow
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SpiderPool Steddie Part One
So, this is definitely gonna have multiple parts lmao
It's been bouncing around my brain for a while like the Addams Family Steddie AU lol
Anyway, lemme know if you'd like to be tagged for future parts ^_^
----
Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Girls is, at best, a dive bar. At worst, it's a cesspit in which the scummiest people in the city gather to bask in each other's scumminess. To Steve, however, it's the perfect place to collapse after a long patrol, splayed out like a starfish on the roof as the music playing inside vibrates the building itself.
Steve takes a deep breath, setting his bat down next to him before pushing his mask to the bridge of his nose. He then lies down on the roof, wishing not for the first time that the city's light pollution wasn't so bad. Seeing the stars and hunting for constellations would really help him ignore the cracked ribs screaming inside his chest and threatening to break if he even breathes wrong.
All things considered, though, it could be worse. Steve doesn't have any morning classes, Vecna didn't beat him up nearly as bad as he usually does during their fight earlier, and his accelerated healing means Steve will be able to breathe normally by morning. Robin would tell him he has a very low bar when it comes to judging how shitty his life currently is, but she isn't here, so her opinion doesn't matter. Dustin would tell him he should try not getting his ass whooped in the future. Thankfully, he also isn't here, making his opinion as meaningful as Robin's.
Steve closes his eyes, letting his shoulders relax and trying not to think about anything. It sort of works until his entire body suddenly tenses, every nerve on edge and goosebumps shooting across his arms. He shoots up, ignoring the harsh twinge in his ribs as he turns in a crouch and grabs his bat. Steve clenches his jaw, breathing harshly through his nose to keep from groaning in pain, and feels relieved he didn't completely remove his mask completely.
Over by the door leading to a staircase is a guy with ripped jeans, a worn-out shirt with "HELLFIRE CLUB" across the chest, a jean vest covered in patches and pins, and hair pulled back out of his face with a few wavy strands stubbornly escaping his hair tie. He's breathing a little heavily, his face flushed like he's just climbed a few flights of stairs. Actually, he probably has.
"Woah," the guy says, his voice soft enough that Steve would have missed it if not for the enhanced hearing. The guy clears his throat and holds up both hands, showing off a bottle of Jack Daniels in one and a bag with a grease-stained bottom in the other. "Uh, I come in peace. I didn't realize the rooftop was taken."
Steve has no clue what possesses him, but he forces himself to relax and set the bat down. "No, it's okay. I can head out," he says, staying seated despite his words. He's really hoping the guy will insist he doesn't need to; his ribs are still aching like a bitch.
Thankfully, the guy flashes a grin and slowly lowers his hands. "Nah, you're all good. Not every day I get to eat next to a hero. Want some fries?" he asks, walking over and sitting a good two feet away so there's plenty of room between them.
He tears open the bag to create an impromptu plate and puts it between them, the smell of greasy and undoubtedly delicious fries tempting enough that Steve picks up a smaller one and pops it into his mouth. "Thanks. Where are these from?" Steve asks, glancing over as the guy twists the cap of his bottle and takes a swig.
"A burger joint two streets down and one street over. On the corner."
Steve nods, making a mental note of the directions so he can get a burger before swinging home. He's got just enough in his pocket to afford one. "So, got a name?" Steve asks, figuring he's already eating the guy's fries and they're about to spend some time together on this roof. He should know the guy's name.
The guy's grin returns, and he sets the bottle down between them as well. It's tempting, but Steve doesn't trust his alcohol tolerance to hold up while his body is busy fixing his ribs. "Eddie. Do I get to know your name, too?"
Steve snorts and leans away slightly, putting a bit more distance between Eddie and his entirely too-grabbable mask. "Nice try," he says.
"Worth a shot," Eddie says, shrugging as he picks up a few fries. "So, Spider-Man, what brings you to Sister Margaret's? You enjoy the gay metal scene?"
"What's the difference between gay and regular metal?"
"Our hair is better," Eddie explains, dramatically flipping the few strands of hair escaping his tie.
Steve has to hold back a second snort, taking another fry and chewing on it before saying, "I like resting here after patrol. The whole building shakes with the music."
Eddie lights up, his eyes brightening and his back straightening some. "So, you're a fan of Corroded Coffin," he says, taking another swig of the Jack Daniels. It's only now that Steve realizes it's already a quarter of the way gone, and he wonders if Eddie's liver can handle that much alcohol all at once.
"Is that the name of the band?"
"Yep. They play here almost every night."
"I'm guessing you like them, too, then?"
Eddie hums, amusement dancing across his expression now, giving Steve the distinct feeling that there's some secret he simply isn't in on. "They're the best band I've ever heard. Their music is incredible. They really push the boundaries of the genre. And their lyrics? Amazingly layered with at least three meanings per line. I highly recommend actually coming in for a listen one of these days," Eddie says, leaning a little closer to Steve.
A beat of silence passes in which Steve holds Eddie's gaze. Or, he holds the gaze on his end; he's sure Eddie can't actually tell with the mask covering his eyes. "You're in the band," Steve says.
"Lead guitarist and singer, yes. I also write the songs."
"You're incredibly critical of yourself, really grounded in reality."
Eddie barks out a laugh. "I just happen to know my worth incredibly well."
"You have all the confidence of a mediocre white man on a job hunt."
Eddie gasps, placing a hand on his chest as he looks at Steve. "How dare you call me mediocre. I am revolutionary at worst and the second coming at best."
"You know the second coming involves, like, an apocalypse or something, right?"
"I'm Jewish, why would I bother with the fine details?" Well, Steve will give him that. "By the way," Eddie says, gesturing to Steve's bat as he continues, "do those nails actually see any use? Or are they just there to act as a threat?"
Steve looks down at his bat, considering it for a moment before carefully holding the middle and offering the handle to Eddie. Now that he's giving them a few moments of attention, he's realizing the nails embedded in the end are a little rusty and definitely need cleaning. "I try not to be deadly with it, but Vecna's got these lab-grown demon dogs and bats that always manage to break through my webs," Steve explains.
He watches as Eddie takes the bat, weighing it in his hands before shoving his palm into the nails. Steve jerks, a wordless shout escaping his throat as he launches himself over the fries and in front of Eddie. "Are you okay?!" he asks, grabbing Eddie's hand and shakily inspecting the nails sticking through it. Fuck, those are going to be a bitch to get out, and he'll probably have to swing Eddie to the hospital for a tetanus shot.
Being angry doesn't even register in his brain as Eddie laughs. "Don't worry about it, Spidey," he says, pulling his hand off the nails with a slight wince. He wiggles his fingers, letting Steve have a front-row seat to the injuries closing. "See, good as new."
And he's right. The injuries are good as new. In fact, there isn't even any scarring, and Steve almost rips his mask off to take a closer look but stops himself at the last minute. Instead, he grabs Eddie's hand and yanks it closer, turning it over to check his palm, too. "What the fuck?" he asks, looking up at Eddie, still gripping his hand tight.
"Super healing," Eddie explains. "Like, super duper. If I ever get decapitated, just hold my head to my neck, and I'll be right as rain."
"I'd rather not put that claim to the test," Steve says, frowning slightly as he runs his fingers over Eddie's palms, just to make sure the injuries aren't somehow hidden from sight.
"You know, I kissed the last guy who touched my palm like that," Eddie says, leaning in again with that grin.
Suddenly all Steve can think about is how Eddie's lips do look soft. And it has been a while since Steve actually kissed anyone. And he does think Eddie is funny. And he does find himself wondering if his smile will taste like the Jack Daniels and fries. And...and...
And Steve needs to go before he does anything he shouldn't be doing as Spider-Man.
He jerks back, dropping Eddie's hand like it burns, and ignores the ache in his ribs as he grabs his bat and stands. "I, uh, I need to get going. Thanks for the fries, Eddie," he says, hurrying over to the edge of the roof.
"Woah, just gonna eat and run on me, big boy?" Eddie asks, scrambling to his feet and over to where Steve is climbing onto the edge of the roof. "That's not very hero-like of you. You haven't even left me your name or number. How are you gonna pay me back $2.50 for the fries?"
"I had five," Steve says, turning to look at Eddie as he webs his bat to his back and pulls his mask down over his chin.
"The economy sucks, man."
Okay, he's got Steve there. Again. "Nice try, Eddie."
"Can you blame a guy? Your ass looks great in that spandex."
Steve is suddenly relieved his mask is back down, covering the furious blush spreading across his cheeks. He'd think it was just a joke, but the sincere and somewhat goofy smile tugging at Eddie's lips tells him it's more genuine than anything else. "Thanks," Steve says, giving Eddie a two-finger salute before taking a step back off the roof.
He shoots a web at the edge of the building, using the momentum to swing around the corner. His ribs are killing him with the movement, but he still manages to throw a, "See you later, Eds!" over his shoulder before he's completely out of earshot.
Later, Steve will wonder how Eddie got his super healing, if he's that flirtatious with every guy he meets on the roof of Sister Margaret's, and if he'll be there the next time Steve swings by. But that's for later. For now, he's just enjoying the breeze rushing over him and thinking about Eddie's eyes and his smile and his long fingers.
#Steddie#Spiderpool Steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#spiderman steve harrington#deadpool eddie munson#it'll make sense i promise#also Eddie goes back into the bar and immediately starts bragging about flirting with spider-man#everyone immediately knows he's about to become Annoying (TM)#and resign themselves to their fate#Robin does the exact same when Steve gets home and tells her about Eddie#RIP everyone who has to live with these two gushing about each other
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𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐬 - 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫
finnick odair x fem!reader
summary: as finnick sneaks back into your cart during the victory tour, you start to pity him as he wraps his arms around you, knowing that this is all for the captiol and none of it is true...at least not for you.
cw: almost one-sided love, katniss and peeta trope, no smut, and lots of crying.
with how the trains speeds you feel as tho you're flying, laying in your bed with the new weather outside your window. yesterday it was snowing, now it's spring.
the silk bedsheets mold your skin as you lay there, regretful.
a hand snakes under and up to your abdomen, the scent of musk heavy on your nostrils as he pushes himself closer to your back.
he sighs once he has your touch back into his grip and you stay put, hoping he falls back to sleep.
it was a mistake, letting him back into your bed again.
it wasn't like you two did anything..it's just for the nightmares. but still.
he thumbs your shoulder softly, brushing the finger on your body to test your awareness, you feel his eyes on your neck.
once he gets no indication of your conciseness, he dips down to lay a soft, quick kiss on your neck.
it makes you shiver, a little fever sparking in your spine for that moment. it wasn't forced for his own excitement, it was a little good morning for you.
and that just makes it worse.
you pretend to flutter your eyes and he quickly sinks back into the silk sheets. you sit up and drowsily grab a towel before walking towards the bathroom that's connected to your cart.
you eye him as you take tip-toe steps, as if not to wake him. but you catch his lips flashing a soft smile before forcing down into a line.
you sprint into the bathroom and turn on the shower as you feel your chest heavy with breaths. you lock the door and sink down as you choke on air and have tears rush out of your eyes
he loves you
he loves you so much.
your mind brings you back to Annies sobs and pleas for you to return finnick to her, safely. to bring her love back.
I wonder how she felt seeing you brush his hair back in the arena before dipping down to kiss his puffy lips.
I wonder how she felt when 'her love' came home with a new love.
you confessed to him on the train that it was a lie. your love wasn't real and you watched him fight back tears while putting on a sad smile
"it's okay, really"
that's what he told you when you turned to look back out the window of the train car. you knew it wasn't your place but your cloudy mind thought it was a good idea
"fin...um...Annie was talking to me before the games and-"
"please. I don't want to hear anything about annie cresta."
so you both sat in silence as the train brought you back to four.
and now, on your victory tour with the capitol and everyone breathing down your neck, you realize that you will never have a life without odair being next to it.
you can't help but claw at your chest with sobs as the shower spits water at you, because finnick takes this as a chance, a chance for you to love him.
but you would never give yourself that chance
not with that promise you gave to annie.
and not with that vow you gave to yourself.
an: I might do a part 2 for this, katniss and peeta trope is such a good one I just had to make some angst for it. I hope that you guys liked it even though its short :( I'm sorry I cant do super super long ones, I just write when I can and post right after lmao. Also my babies!!! We got to 70 followers! I love you guys so much, when I started this acc I didn't think anyone would still be around for thg content, but you guys came through and made me love the fandom even more...I love you guys so much! mwah!
part 2
#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair angst#finnick odair imagine#finnick x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick x you#finnick x y/n#finnick imagine#finnick x annie#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair imagines#finnick odair#the hunger games rp#the hunger games#the hunger games imagine#the hunger games fanfiction#thg rp#thg x reader#thg headcanons#thg fanfiction#thg finnick
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first time for everything ꙳⸌♡⸍꙳ k. bakugou
warnings: +18, smut, oral (m! receiving), prohero! bakugou, adult bakugou, virgin bakugou, nb reader
a/n: this is my first time writing an oral sex piece -- especially fucking bakugou ;-;, so i am open to criticism. i tried to write this with the sensation and thoughts that bakugou was feeling rather than the reader just because i wanted to lmao. this is also not properly proofread, i will come back to fix that! enjoy!
word count: 1.4k
“i’m assuming you thought you’d never get this far.”
you both never thought that you would get here. both of you posted in his kitchen in the wee hours of the morning with only a pale white light above the stove to help you see. while you never thought you would be giving a blowjob to prohero dynamight (who you also somehow bagged as your boyfriend), he never would have thought he’d have anyone who would genuinely want to.
thinking about a virgin, prohero katsuki who clams up now that you’re kneeling down in front of him. a katsuki whose eyes are wide and still as they stare into yours for some sort of permission. maybe he wants permission to be vulnerable? you’re right underneath his nose yet he’s running over how he got this far when he was used to shoujo mangas and porn. this is a different playing field and he is absolutely a rookie. the vermillion in his eyes is practically glowing as he’s overheating from the inside. he’s standing tall and tense and at this point, he can feel his heart beating in his chest and his skin burning in anticipation. there you are; patient and willing to go at any pace that katuski’s ready to take. your hands trail up his thighs over his gray sweats slowly, spotting the firm cock in his hand twitch.
katsuki swears he’s never been more flustered in his life, “no.” his voice broke out into the atmosphere of the room, cracking and forcing his cheeks to go red. you can tell by his response that the typical rose tinted glasses he had on around you were now red and tinted with lust. “I didn’t.” while his voice is calm, he isn’t in the slightest. you can tell because every time he gets flustered around you, his voice loses that rough scratch and becomes smooth and quiet. it’s captivating, honestly.
his breath hitches while he breathes in and only comes out in short or weak puffs. there’s a sudden sharp breath that he sucks in as his eyes dart towards your hands. “of course you didn’t.” you could spot his tongue quickly graze over his chapped, rosy lips.
“shut up.”
“you know you can always make me, right?” he brushes your comment off with an eye roll. the hero’s jaw relaxes for a brief moment before he grips his cock a bit tighter in his hand. anything he was ready to do, you were ready to do. choking out a groan, the head of his heavy cock runs along your lips. this scene was erotic enough for him. tapping it along your lips, his head nudges up subconsciously while his jaw falls. you to part your lips for him. the hero cracked out a hum as the blushing, sensitive head of his cock ran along your skin. the slit was already glistening with excitement. “i would love it if you could make me.”
allowing himself to sink into your mouth builds up this feeling of anxiety that no villain could even get out of him. his nose turns up at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth. he never felt anything like it. sending his back against the wall, his eyes flash to the ceiling before his fingers slide in your hair. katsuki tries so hard to breathe correctly. he thought he had this. if he could handle the palm of his hand or his trusty fleshlight, why wouldn’t he be able to remain calm in your mouth? that would be ridiculous! however, you can spot his chest rising and falling through his hoodie. he doesn’t pick up on full he just might be in your mouth until you gag. you gag and that feeling can’t end for him. a thick hand slips from your hair and behind your neck to keep you there. katsuki’s a selfish man who simply doesn’t care or even think about your need to breathe. neither did you. not when your boyfriend’s breath picks up and every exhale includes a moan. you love it. you live for it.
you also love the way he suddenly pulls your hair, yanking your head back. it allows you to gently graze your teeth under his shaft. if he wants to play, you both could play, yes? katsuki chokes out broken whine. “fuck,” he bites, eyes shutting tight with his hips jutting closer to your face. he likes it. for a moment his life falls into a blur. there’s no need to think if you were willing to do the work for him. ‘just take it and don’t cum too fast’ is the motto. he admires you with his hands carefully brushing any hair from your face. dynamight loves to chase your mouth; rolling his hips and pushing his cock deeper because a second away from you is a second too long.
there’s so many things you’re doing to him that he can’t even try to comprehend. he can feel your tongue toy with the head of his cock and his whole body twitches. when you start gagging his toes start curling. and he’s begging for it— physically. you can see it in the way his face twists in pleasure and frustration or feel it when his hips become more erratic while trying to work with you pace.
the blond finds himself struggling for a solid breath. one thing about katsuki was that the heat never really bothered him. until this moment. his body is getting warm and his skin is clamming up under the fabric he’s wearing. it’s an uncomfortable feeling but he doesn’t want it to end. his cock twitches between your lips and of course you aren’t letting up in the slightest. it’s almost aching at this point for some sort of release. that familiar tense feeling is creeping up all over his body. katsuki’s breaths are harsh and sharp as he looks down at you with the most pitiful eyes. “fuck,” he grumbles. red eyes are chasing all over your face when he realizes that the feeling is getting far too intense to sit by idly. his mouth is open and he wants to speak. he wants to tell you that he’s about to cum but he can’t. you wouldn’t be able to make out a single thing he said even if he tried.
you can spot his lip quivering before tightening his lips together. the hero is scrunching his nose and trying not to explode but looking at you makes the task difficult. lifting his back off the wall, one hand gripped the counter while the other covered his mouth. each exhale came out in a string of grunts and groans. he was pitiful— simply miserable being so vulnerable but he also never felt as good as he does at the moment. watching him, you can see his eyes cross. then you could feel it. katsuki’s body stiffens up so much you assume he lost all functioning of it as he filled your cheeks. the only thing that’s moving on him is his thighs that are literally shivering.
in all honesty you don’t know what’s supposed to make his cum so much different than any other you’ve experienced. it’s hot and thick. the only exception? it tasted far better than what you’ve had before.
the more you think about how he tastes, the less you actually realize that his body has already calmed down. not until his cock lazily fell from your mouth. he lowers his body to the ground to rest on his knees and get a good look into your eyes. stealing glances of one another, katsuki can see how messy your face really is. you notice how red his face is. he refuses to properly look you in the eyes. “don’t swallow—“
katsuki’s face loses all expression as he watches you do exactly that simply because he told you not to. it was a nice way to measure to see how out of it he still is. saying nothing, he cups your cheeks with his hands that are actually burning before feeling his lips melt on yours. he wants to take in everything; your swollen lips, your weak kiss from your exhausted jaw and the taste of him left on your tongue. pulling away from you always feels like a crime after kissing you, but if there was one thing the blond didn’t have, it was a proper breath.
“how did that feel? did you like that?”
“it sure as hell wasn’t bad.” he snaps, which only makes you laugh.
#katuski bakugou#bakugou katsuki#bakugo#bakugou#bakugou smut#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou#bakugou drabble#birdieboom#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo smut#pro hero dynamight#bakugou headcanon
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Christmas Special!! - Mizu x Fem!Filo!Reader
(A/N: LMAO SORRY I KINDA DIED GUYS BUT IM BACK AND HERE'S MY GIFT TO ALL OF Y'ALL <3)
Summary: The snow paints the landscape a pearly white. For once, Mizu isn't alone. Not anymore. And as the snow falls down on her, she finally gets married to the love of her life.
Possible TWs!!!: Mentions of Mikio (I'm gonna stab him), Period typical homophobia, racisim and mysogyny
~~~
The last time Mizu had worn bridal clothing wasn't a happy time. And for a long time the idea of marriage wasn't one she fancied very much, much less having to dress up again. Memories of Mikio's betrayal, his disgust at her strength and all of the misunderstands flashed before her eyes whenever she saw a bride. How unfortunate. Yet here she was, once again wearing bridal clothing. The silky white kimono felt heavy against her body, an unusual luxury. She was dressed as a woman, her hair pinned up with pretty pins that Akemi had gifted to her at the news of her marriage.
Mizu looks at herself in a mirror, startled to find herself smiling. She looked at herself and found herself remembering the words of her soon-to-be wife when they first met.
*"You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen,"* you had said. It was in Tagalog, of course, but you later translated it for her as your relationship grew. For once Mizu felt beautiful. Felt loved. When she looked into your eyes it felt overwhelming. Mikio never looked at her like that. He only looked at her like that when he believed she was someone else. But you...
You had seen all of her. Her rage, her bitterness, her anger and her fear. And you stayed. You stayed no matter what. You always reassured her, always held her even if she had insisted she was fine. You were her everything. That idea scared and thrilled her all at the same time. And now here she was, wearing a wedding kimono with her makeup done, her heart pounding in excitement and fear.
Swallowing her feelings she finally emerges to begin the ceremony. Said ceremony was agreed to be outside due to many (all) vendors not wanting to host Mizu and her soon to be wife. Typical. Of course two women getting married wouldn't go down well. So, outside it was. Mizu began the walk to the makeshift altar, a mix between your culture and hers. The snow was falling, gently though. Like little bits of glitter in the sky, as if the very world were rejoicing in Mizu's marriage. When Mizu looks up to meet your gaze she nearly starts bawling.
There you are, looking beautiful as ever. Your hair pinned up nicely, white gown blending into the snow seamlessly. You seemed cold, the tip of your nose and the apples of your cheeks red. But the minute you saw Mizu your eyes lit up, all signs of discomfort gone in an instant, promptly replaced by a look of complete adoration. It made Mizu fall in love all over again. She continues to move forward, trying her best to hold back her tears and you do the same. Mizu looked so beautiful, ethreal, like an angel. As she finally made her way to your side she gives you a weak smile, wanting nothing more than to just get it over with and cry in your arms out of pure joy. She finally had her happy ending.
And as the snow falls around the both of you a silent promise is formed.
"In this life and the next, I will always love you."
(A/N: HAPPY HOLIDAYS FUCKERSSSSSS)
#mizu blue eye samurai#i love women#blue eye samurai#wlw#i love fictional characters#mizu x reader#mizu#mizu come home the kids miss you#x reader#mizu x you#x reader fluff#x you fluff#x you#x female reader#fem reader
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patching you up
blade x injured!gn!reader
genre - fluff
summary - blade patches you up after you got injured while fighting mara.
cw!: mentions of blood + injury, soft-ish!blade, ooc blade?, mention of blade's past life which idfk how it works lmao I should be paying attention to the storyline asjdnb, swearing, mutual pining
note - god damn. soft!blade is living in my head rent-free fr, can't get enough of him <33 I'm not usually an edgy-emo-boy fan but ig blade's just built different 💪💪
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
With each painful cough, more and more thin splatters of blood painted your mouth crimson.
It hurt. A lot. You didn't expect it to hurt nearly as bad as it did when you charged in to fight the Mara that was attacking some people that were making their way through Cloudford, but the spear that their captain had used to stab through your side was probably coated in some sort of poison, because with every sluggish step you took, you felt your body break little by little. Eventually, you collapsed onto the cold ground - your torso was numb and soon your arms and legs would be as well.
Well, at least you were going to die somewhere pretty. The sunset glimmered through the leaves of thin trees growing from large pots, which were scattered across the various bridges of the district. Starskiffs drifted lazily across the sky like regal ships on the high seas and the last thing you heard before you closed your eyes for a while was the sound of crickets and footsteps fading in.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
"Finally fucking awake."
A harsh voice came from your side as you opened your extremely tired eyes, which were met with dim but warm lighting and a dark wooden ceiling.
"Can't believe you got into this mess," the voice continued as you felt something tightening around your waist. "Didn't think that you'd be so stupid."
His face flashed in your hazy mind and you tried to sit up. "...Blade, I-"
"Don't move. You'll make it worse."
Hands. Ice-cold, gruff, but gentle hands pushed you back into your previous position by your shoulders, and you felt the tightening feeling again shortly after.
"What are you doing?" you whispered, then coughed again. Your throat was so dry - it felt like you haven't drank in decades, and with each cough you swore that your lungs were going to fly out of your mouth at the sheer force.
"Fixing you, obviously."
You raised your neck to try and catch a glimpse of your wounds but saw only the top of Blade's head, his raven hair tied back in a low ponytail. He was bent over your side, and just as you lowered your head back to the pillow a sharp bolt of pain shot through you, making you hiss and wince.
"That hurt!"
"It'll pass," he replied almost too casually. "Deal with it."
An uncomfortable pause ensued, during which you finally figured out that he was bandaging your torso up. You'd never expected anyone to find you back there, much less a Stellaron Hunter that you'd only interacted with five or six times, but thank the Aeons that at least someone did. But you did think it was strange that he was doing this for you, because from all your two-or-three-word conversations, you were sure that he wasn't the type to help an almost complete stranger. In fact, you'd think that he would be the one to cause these injuries in the first place.
While you were staring up at the ceiling in deep thought, Blade was lowkey kind-of admiring your skin. You weren't going to look down at him again anyway, it seems that you'd learned your lesson, but that just allowed him to eye your softness in more detail. This was his chance - he'd been admiring you from afar ever since you first met, and he wasn't about to let this opportunity to see what you looked like close-up pass.
Before he knew what he was doing, Blade's fingers reached out to lightly press onto skin that was near your wound, at which you hissed and leaned away from his touch.
"You sure that you're actually healing me?" you asked.
"Yes. I know what I'm doing, trust me."
He continued to press curiously but gently, making sure not to hurt you on purpose. Your skin was fascinating to him - it was soft, warm, while his was unforgivingly cold; yours had a fascinating shade of life about it and his didn't. This contrast was what made his eyes widen a little everytime he made physical contact with you, and he found small differences like these to amount to vast ones overall. Maybe this is what always made him think that you came from a different world entirely.
Blade then noticed that your hand was trembling by your side - the painkillers must be wearing off. He stood up from the chair beside the bed on which you were resting and reached for a couple pills and a glass of water on a nearby counter, moving them to the bedside table. His hands felt your back as he sat you up to administer the medicine.
You now saw where you were - from what you could tell, it was a small house or apartment somewhere. Dark wood covered the walls, ceiling, and floor, and tapestries and thriving plants littered the environment. You didn't know that he had a green thumb, but now that you did, you felt safer somehow - what if this cold, distant man was more human than you'd originally thought him to be?
His lithe, cold fingers brought you back to reality as they rested under your jaw, pulling it open gently, and your eyes focused on his admittedly quite handsome face again. Crimson eyes, the color of a blood moon, stared intensely at yours in avid concentration before travelling back to his other hand, which was now lifting a glass of sparkling golden liquid to your lips. There was a certain reverence of sorts glimmering in his expression, and this was accompanied by the fact that he was treating you like he would a glass flower. Your lips finally met the rim of the glass and when you finally tasted the elixir, you sighed.
It was cool and sweet, a refreshing sensation that battled the humidity of the room and the pain in your side. You drank the entire glass with ease and after Blade set it down on the bedside table, he wiped away some stray droplets of the shining liquid with a rough thumb.
That was it - Blade had become an entirely person just now. You could see it in his eyes and feel it as he breathed: this was not the same person who happened to be walking by a person on their deathbed and had enough pity in their secluded heart to heal them. He treated you like an old friend or a partner, perhaps, by taking you in.
"You'll experience drowsiness soon," he mentioned, "don't feel like you can't sleep. I won't leave you."
You laughed lazily in return, already feeling the effects of the painkillers. "So you can murder me in my sleep?"
"...I can leave-"
"No, no, I'm just kidding."
You sigh and relax into the pillows beneath you as Blade lowers you onto your back again. His gaze lingers on yours for maybe a second too long but he pulls away, preferring to sit down in a chair by the bedside and stare out at the scenery surrounding the house.
Once your eyes close and your breaths become quiet, he gives it a couple seconds to make sure you're asleep before softly starting to hum. It's an old tune from his past life, one which he used to smith to, and as midnight moonlight begins to stream in through the window, it veils your calm face in a hazy, shimmery glow that rivals even the smoothest of satins. He reaches a hand towards the apple of your cheek, cradling it in his palm as he sighs, a faint smile dancing on his lips.
"You're gonna kill me someday."
#honkai star rail#hsr#honkai#fluff#blade#hsr blade#blade hsr#blade x reader#star rail blade#blade x y/n#blade fluff#blade x you#hes so babygirl for some reason like???
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On the Mend - Ch 1: Not Today
No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader
Read this on AO3 | Masterlist
Summary: You were having a really, really bad day in the midst of the scorching Austin summer, and seeing your ex boyfriend, Joel Miller, is the last thing you need.
Word count: 829
A/N: (EDIT 09/17/2023) Okay so I heard ya'll! LMAO and decided to turn this into a mini-series. Not sure exactly how things will play out for these two, but I've written a part 2 and decided to call this mini-series On the Mend. LOL hope you like it. This is a one-shot for now, not sure if and how to continue this. I just got this idea recently and wanted to write it.
The merciless sun bore down as she parked her car. The Austin summer had been relentless, and today, it seemed as if even the universe was conspiring against her.
It had been a thoroughly miserable day. Work had been a disaster; she'd spent hours redoing half of a project her co-worker had botched because she was still hungover from the previous night.
The Texas summer heat, relentless and unforgiving, only added to her misery. As if fate had a personal grudge against her, she realized she'd left her house keys on her office desk when she was already halfway home.
She sighed in defeat and turned her car around to retrieve them. All of this was compounded by her lingering morning sickness, a term she found deceptive as it had resurfaced with a vengeance upon entering her third trimester. She had naively believed she had bid it farewell for good when she'd crossed into the second trimester.
"Whoever called it morning sickness should be shot for lying," she grumbled, attempting to quell the rising nausea that threatened to surface.
Dressed in biker shorts and an oversized t-shirt she kept in her car for emergencies, she got out and beelined to the frozen aisle for a popsicle stick and savored the brief respite offered by the melting ice cold treat.
She sighed in relief and grabbed a pushcart. Her only mission in the store was to grab some Oreos, pickles, and frozen pizza to satisfy her cravings that were so intense, she literally cried in the car on her way over.
As she rounded a corner in the store, she was suddenly face to face with the last person she wanted to see: Joel Miller.
Great. She thought to herself. Couldn't have been on a better day.
Ah, Joel fucking Miller.
The man who had once been the love of her life.
The same man who had taken her on the most memorable first date she'd ever experienced, and had filled the past five years of her life with the kind of joy she'd never known before.
But this was also the man who made it clear to her months ago, after five whole years of being together and living together for three, that he has no plans of marrying her and having a family with her.
She and Joel were arguing at the time when he said it.
--
In the midst of their emotional clash, she couldn't help but speak her mind, her frustration boiling over.
"Joel," she began, her voice trembling with pent-up feelings, "if you get mad at every damn little thing, what's going to happen if we were married? That's not the life I want, and it's not the husband I need."
Joel's eyes flashed with anger as he retorted, "Of course it’s not! And who told you I was going to marry you?" His words cut like a knife, and she felt her heart shatter into pieces.
"We never talked about it, what put the idea into your head?" he continued, his tone harsh and unyielding.
Her jaw went slack in shock, as tears welled up in her eyes as she choked back her emotions.
"But I thought we--," she whispered, her voice barely audible, she couldn't even continue her thoughts when Joel cut her off.
"No." He barked. "You knew from the start that Sarah is my priority. Always was and always will be. I'm not going through the whole marriage thing again." And have our hearts broken all over again when you realize that we're not what you want, he wanted to add. But instead he allowed the silence to linger.
Silent tears slipped from her eyes but she did not respond.
Instead she stood up and went into the closet and started packing. So be it, she told herself as she zipped the last of her bags before going into the bathroom to hastily shove her toiletries into another bag.
She stopped when she pulled one of the lower drawers open. The positive pregnancy test sticks under her box of tampons glared at her, and for a brief moment she contemplated telling Joel. But when she heard the front door slam shut, she pulled herself together and shoved the sticks in the bag as well.
--
That was seven months ago and she hasn't seen nor heard from Joel since.
Their eyes met for a moment before his gaze fell upon her very round baby bump. Acting on instinct, she hastily placed her handbag in the shopping cart, a futile attempt to hide it from him, though it didn't do much given the fact that she looked like she had tucked an entire watermelon under her shirt.
She grimaced, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. When she locked eyes with him once more, she began walking backwards, her eyes not leaving him and before he could say anything, she had rounded the corner and all he heard was, “Nope. Not today!”
Next Chapter 👉🏻
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal edit#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal x ofc#pedro pascal fan fiction#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal cinematic universe#pedro pascal fan fic#pedro pascal x pregnant!reader#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal x you#pedrito#pedrohub#pedropascaledit#now i understand the hype#Joel Miller#joel miller series#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fan fic#joel miller x oc#joel miller x original character#joel miller x plus size reader#joel miller x pregnant reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x wife!reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#tlou hbo#the last of us hbo#the last of us
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Congratulations on your milestone! That’s amazing! You deserve it so much! I was hoping to request one of the prompts.
How about “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” with Din.
You can make it as angsty as you want. I don’t mind. I like angst and I like fluff.
Thank you so much!
Hello, my sweet! Apologies for the delay in getting this out. I've gone full heart breaking angst, and I enjoyed every second lmao. Thank you for sending a request angel, I hope you enjoy! x
before you go
din djarin x f!mandalorianreader
Word count: 1.2k
Warnings: angst, blood, injury and death
He knows it.
Somewhere deep inside of him—he knows it, but he still clings to hope, still looks towards the light despite being shrouded in darkness.
His hands shake as they raise up to grasp either side of your helmet and pry it softly from your head, indifferent to the sounds of battle still echoing around him.
You were safe here, hidden with him behind some destroyed walls that had taken the brunt of most of the explosions. There was no one here to see you at your most vulnerable, face free and bared to the stars. No one would come, too occupied with the fight to even notice the disappearances of either of you.
He’d looked upon your face a handful of times during your extensive time together, and even though he knew the curves of your face clearly, knew the angle of your nose and the shape of your lips, the vision of what had been hidden beneath your helmet was a sweet surprise each and every time.
It’s bad, he knows it, but… but maybe it’s not. Maybe it will all be okay. Maybe you just need a moment. Maybe—
He tears his own helmet off and lets it fall to the ground beside yours, ignoring the familiar vision of them together, so similar in shape and build, the smooth beskar reflecting the shine of moonlight and the occasional flash of more blasts.
Red soaks the roughened palm of his glove when he pulls it away from cradling your head, and warmth of it radiating against his skin threatens to bring bile up his throat. His insides burn, the mix of molten rage and panic tightening his stomach into knots.
“Cyare,” he mutters, heaving you further into his arms and pressing his bare forehead against your own in an effort to press life back into your limbs.
You can take his—take it all, just open your eyes.
Dirt and the taste of blaster fire sits on his tongue when he hurriedly bites at the tips of his glove and tugs it off, but he doesn’t care because he feels it. Beneath his bare fingertips where they press into the side of your throat, he can feel a weak drum and it’s enough for him.
It’s enough to keep him grounded, enough to keep him curled around you and hoping the breath he shares with you is enough to pry you out of whatever inky abyss you float in.
“Cyare, you need to wake up. You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”
It’s bad, but maybe it’s not that bad.
Maybe it will be okay.
“Din,” you croak brokenly, and his heart flies.
He moves away from pressing into your forehead, just far enough to see the flutter of your lashes and the furrow of your brows but not enough that you don’t feel the reassuring wash of his warm breath over your face.
You’re here, you’re still here, and that’s enough for him.
“I’ve got you,” he breathes, letting one corner of his lips tug up into a brief semblance of a smile when your eyes finally open slowly and come to an unsteady focus on him, “I’ve got you, cyare.”
Your mouth opens, but no words come out. It’s a clear struggle, and his fingers brush along the skin of your cheek to calm the difficulty you have finding your voice.
He gives you a moment, and then another, patiently waiting for something, whether a single word or sentence, he doesn’t care.
The battle rages on in the distance, but he doesn’t dare move. He sits, arms tight around your armoured body, waiting for the reassurance that his hold is enough to keep you together, enough to keep up that soft drum beneath your skin.
“I—I can’t… feel a-anything,” you finally rasp, and a drop of blood starts to pool at the edge of your lips.
The galaxy shatters around him.
He knows.
Of course he knows.
He can feel how limp you are in his arms, how some of your limbs dragged unnaturally when he hauled you from the thick of the fight and into your secluded safety, and he’s positive the shine of his armour will glisten with red once you leave his arms.
The hope wavers in his chest, and he attempts to swallow around the thick lump sitting at the back of his throat. There’s little to add to your words. He knows, and now you know. He sees it in your eyes—the slow build of understanding that there’s no coming back from this, that this was it, the end of it all.
“Din—”
“I’m here.”
It’s not just a reassurance, it’s a promise.
He won’t leave you like this, bleeding and broken and departing from this existence alone. He’ll stay right where he is, till the very end. He’s sure that if you had any energy, you’d argue. You’d tell him to go, to fight, to leave you and save himself the agony of having to watch you die.
Instead, you’re left to lay in his arms, eyes tracing every familiar dimple and crease of his face, remembering the way his coarse splattering of facial hair felt against your skin and the way it tickled your lips whenever you were graced with a rare physical kiss.
He doesn’t know how long you have left, so he takes one more opportunity to remember the feel of your soft lips, eyes screwing shut in an effort to calm the sting of tears as he attempts to pour everything he couldn't say into that final press of lips. He holds there, against your mouth and savouring what he could, uncaring about the way your blood feels melting into the dark scruff covering his chin.
When he pulls away, he sees a tear of his own sitting on your skin, sliding down your cheek alongside your own and he’s sorry he wasn’t strong enough to hide it from you.
“I… I’m with you,” you whisper weakly, eyes noticeably heavier, “a-always.”
He watches the last breath get dragged between parted lips and he swears his heart stops with your own. He hears the broken inhale that is never balanced with an exhale, and then he knows you’re gone.
Gone.
It echoes in his mind, chipping away at the tightly wound restraint he has on his emotions. He couldn't break, not here, not now.
No, he makes a silent vow he would see this all through, that he wouldn't disappoint you wherever you are. He'd carry you with him, until the day comes where he might see your face again.
He doesn’t move for a time, taking his one last chance to memorise every little detail of your face before he finally rests your limp frame delicately against the ground and reaches for your helmet.
It's solid in his hold, and he carefully cradles your head to slip it back over your head. The heavy thud of his heart only fuels the rage simmering in the pit of his gut as he carefully returns you to a warrior, ensuring your helmet was fit snuggly before reaching for his own.
He takes a breath, the modulator crackling with the pain of it, along with one final moment of weakness to steal one last keldabe kiss with the gentle press of beskar, before standing and leaving you among the rubble and ruins, kicking back off into the air with a new fire flowing through his veins.
-
Tags: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy66, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld
#foli's 3k#din djarin x reader#the mandalorian x reader#din djarin x f!reader#the mandalorian x f!reader#din djarin x you#the mandalorian x you#star wars fanfiction#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian fic#din djarin fic
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🧊 Quinn Hughes 🤭
congrats bb 🥹 so proud of you
THANK YOU SO MUCH BABE, ILY!!!!!!! AHHH<3
here is your angsty blurb lol. unintentionally inspired by 'you're losing me' by taylor LMAO (i was listening to it towards the end HAHAHA). i'm really sorry for this one guys..
you had never felt worse in your entire life, you swore.
when the start of hockey season had begun again, quinn was off on the road while you had to stay at home alone. now usually, you wouldn't mind this ─ travelling had never bothered you until now. quinn was pulling away, you could feel it. when he had come back from the lake house, something changed. you decided to opt out on this year's lake house trip because of work so quinn went alone but when he had come back, he felt different.
he was cold, couldn't touch or even look at you, his gaze felt unloving, something you hadn't experienced from him in your two years of dating. it was so unlike him that you didn't even know how to combat it or even bring it up. quinn had always been a communicator, he never kept in anything especially when it came to you. you were his best friend, he'd always say proudly.
now, it was different. much different.
as you washed the dishes in you and quinn's apartment, you couldn't even focus. today was the day that quinn was finally coming home after a few weeks of being on the road. usually, you'd be happy to see him but you just felt anxious at the thought.
over the last few weeks, quinn had only sent you a couple of messages including a snap, which he's never used consistently until now. he didn't update you on anything and he also never called once within those few weeks. that made you sick to your stomach, anxiety coursing through your veins as you thought of everything that could've happened that could have caused.
you were pulled out of your trance as you heard the front door open. "i'm home," he shouted out. his voice sounded exhausted and as you turned around, so did his face.
he had eye bags and his face was paler than usual, which wasn't really out the ordinary for him during the season. he was so caught up in everything that came with his career, he would forget to take care of himself.
you forced a smile, opening your arms for a small hug. he pulled away slowly after the hug, clearing his throat. "any food in the fridge?"
"yeah, i have some leftovers from lunch. chick-fil-a."
"again?" he mumbled, walking away from you and into the kitchen. usually, his tone would be playful but again, it just sounded cold.
you almost let out a laugh at how much of a bitch he was being, but you were too hurt to. "well i mean, you could've answered my texts asking what you wanted."
"you could've called."
that was when you couldn't let out the angry laugh at his audacity. "i could've called?"
quinn looked unbothered at your outburst, taking out the fries and placing one in his mouth. "yeah, that's what i said. you could have called," he repeated, this time really enunciating the words.
"i did call you, quinn, multiple times over the span of three weeks and you didn't bother even sending me an excuse!" you finally snapped, walking up to quinn and crossing your arms.
he let out an exhausted sigh and you felt a tiny bit of guilt blossom in your stomach. "i didn't have time."
what he really meant was, he didn't have time for you. you stood there almost defeated at how little he was giving. you'd rather be yelled at than treated like a little child. "quinn," you felt the tears brimming in your eyes as all the emotions building up these past couple of months finally were coming out.
there was a flash of empathy in his eyes before his cold demeanor had come back. "i-i'm sorry, i'll call next time. why are you crying?"
he put down the food, coming to your side. his presence still wasn't comforting, it just felt like he was forcing himself to care.
"i just missed you, the real you. the old you, quinn, the one who still gave a shit about how i feel." you sniffled quietly, brushing your tears from your cheeks.
"i do care, y/n. i just don't understand what you mean, the old me? i'm still me."
you looked back at him. his eyes still didn't feel understanding or kind, like they did before. "i know you don't understand." you were truly defeated now, looking down at your feet and sighing.
quinn stood there for a few seconds before sighing, letting his head fall back in exhaustion. he finally retreated to the kitchen, grabbing the food and his bags from the floor as he walked to your bedroom.
that was when you let out all the tears you had been feeling. the tears fell freely now, you sobbed into your hands as you thought about how quinn's distant behavior had you questioning the entirety of your relationship. you missed for the days when you were each other's best friends and confidants, but now, it seemed like you were living with a stranger.
you missed the old quinn, the one who used to prioritize your emotions and well-being. it was as if he had become a different person overnight and you were struggling to comprehend the reasons behind this transformation.
you stood in the kitchen, tears streaming down your face, you couldn't help but question what had caused quinn to change so drastically. was it the pressures of his career or had something else come between you two?
MY 100 FOLLOWER CELLY!
#── ✦ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲!#nhl fic#nhl imagine#nhl#nhl oneshot#hockey#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes blurb#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes fic#nhl hockey#luke hughes#hughes brothers#new jersey devils#jack hughes#nhl angst#nhl fanfiction#ice hockey#vancouver canucks#canucks hockey
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