#you can always tell when i'm procrastinating something because that's only ever when i make text post memes

[difeisheng]

#he's just some silly little guy!!!!! #guy of all time even!!!!! #mysterious lotus casebook #li xiangyi #li lianhua #ashton's text post memes #ashton originals #you can always tell when i'm procrastinating something because that's only ever when i make text post memes

[disneyprincemuke]

midnights, 10 * mv1

the 2023 season has ended and geri horner has made the mistake of inviting you to a house party where max is in attendance

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: swearing again huhuhu

notes: the real reason i procrastinated this is because i'm a loser and can't come to terms with the fact that this series is ending like HUUUUH

(series masterlist)

(prev)

you stare at the well-lit home, lips pressed together as you debate in your mind how much right you still have to be here. sure, you were personally invited by geri horner despite knowing about the breakup recently like everybody else, but you’re not quite sure if you belonged.

after all, you’re not max’s girlfriend anymore, and this is more of a team party to celebrate the season. you’re sort of out of place.

by the side of the house, you can see the strobing lights reflecting off the walls and the music coming faintly coming through. it’s still early in the evening, which makes you tilt your head in confusion as to why the party has already started.

perhaps someone has already taken over the playlist to start the party earlier than planned by the hosts themselves. something tells you daniel and yuki are already in the backyard in fits of giggles over their music choices.

because you can very clearly make out the high-pitched tone of baby shark playing.

“(y/n)!” a disembodied voice says over the music, a familiar redhead walking on the grass of her front yard with her arms held open wide for you. “i’m so glad that you made it!”

realistically, you were not going to come at all. but when the older woman texted you about a week ago about not forgetting your work commitments within the area like you mentioned a couple of months ago, it was hard to reject her all together.

especially when she expressed to you how much she missed linking arms with you every other weekend with shallow and petty rumours you hear; wine glasses in your hands as your boys did the racing part of the weekend.

just one last hoorah for the better part of the past 6 years you had.

you never really got to thank geri for her neverending and unconditional hospitality all because you were max’s girlfriend.

“i wouldn’t miss it for the world!” you mimic her gush, smiling widely as you gladly take her in for an embrace. “i’m sorry i didn’t get to meet you earlier. i was swamped with meetings and presentation preps.”

“oh, don’t even worry about it,” geri laughs, waving your apologies off as she pulls away. “you know, christian promised a cute little performance tonight for the team?”

you raise your eyebrows. every year, christian horner hosts their annual year-end party in his home. and every year alike, he will tease everyone about some performance that he will be doing against his best wishes. they never come.

it gets max excited and giggly at the possibility, only to be disappointed at the end of the day.

“do you know if he will actually do it this time?”

geri links arms with you, hunching as a giggle passes her lips. “he said because you made the extra effort to come tonight, he’ll finally do it just for you.”

no. it’s because this is the last of their parties thrown you’ll ever attend.

when you put it like that, your heart kind of hurts. you had no idea how integral being on the paddock on race weekends was to you. not until today.

you feign a laugh, wiping your palms on your blouse. “tell christian i’m so touched.”

“don’t even worry about it,” geri laughs, squeezing your arm. “come on, let’s go to the backyard where everyone currently is. you arrived pretty early, so i’m guessing you’re not quite used to the organised chaos.”

max was never a diva unless it came to attending parties or being at the paddocks on time. it’s like he had a personal vendetta against coming early.

“yeah, i can hear daniel speaking coherently so that’s always a sign,” you grin, following her across the grass patch to the side of the house. you don’t plan to stay very long.

the reason you came before the actual party started is so that you can avoid max. at least you can tell yourself that you at least tried to avoid regression of all the progress you have made.

as you make your way into the backyard, loud squeals and shrieks slowly come in as you see christian’s kids running around. on the dj table is in fact daniel and yuki attempting a remix of the children’s song as they hype up the girls.

“oh, it’s (y/n)!” yuki throws his hands in the air, jumping off the elevated dj booth. he jogs over to you and immediately throws his arms around you. “i haven’t seen you in so long!”

“yuki!” you squeal, arms wrapped around him as he picks you up, spinning you around before putting you down gently. “i miss the way you cook for me, you know? i don’t quite do it the same as you.”

“i’ll send you the recipes!” yuki beams, pulling away from you. “and then you’ll have to let me try them someday — that’s my only rule.”

"you're the boss," you shrug jokingly, rolling your eyes playfully. yuki taps you on the shoulder politely, answering the screaming kids in the backyard.

he politely excuses himself, jumping onto the dj platform again.

"oh, hey, it's you!" you look up to meet daniel's eyes, the australian taking you into a tight hug as you sway side to side. "i've missed you."

"my god, hey," you hug him tightly, taking a deep breath before letting it out shakily. "i'm sorry i'm so bad at answering your texts! i've just been so busy and totally not in the mood to talk..."

daniel gives her an understanding smile, squeezing her shoulder. "you know, i totally get it. don't sweat it, mate."

"thank you. is heidi coming today?" you ask softly, looking around for the other woman's presence.

"a little later than usual. she's coming from work," daniel explains. he leads her towards a patio table, arm slung over her shoulder as they walk. "so, how have you been?"

"hey, look who decided to arrive!" liam laughs, beckoning the older driver towards the filled table. he lifts his bottle of beer up and sends max a small nod to welcome him. "how nice of you to join us!"

max scrunches his nose. "thank you," he lifts his hand to try and quiet down the cheering from the majority of the table, "no need to clap. i was going to come anyway."

"have you had dinner?" yuki asks, a plate in his hands with some food still. "the food is great."

liam chirps, pointing at the grill near the patio of the house. "lucky for you, there's still food from the barbecue earlier."

max smiles, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. he takes the empty seat next to daniel. "if christian's the one who grilled them, i might have to lie and say i've already eaten dinner."

"don't be ridiculous," hannah laughs. "christian hasn't touched that grill as per geri's request for parties like these. you know who does the grilling this time of the year."

max tilts his head. it takes him a while to process, but when he realisation strikes him, he feels his heart sink in his chest. you were here?

he almost wants to just call another uber to go home knowing that he missed your presence at the party. every year at parties like these in christian's home, you're in charge of that grill.

simply because christian gets too caught up in conversation with those around him and only produces near burnt meat. everybody has apparently complained about it for years, but when you came into the picture, you kicked the team principal away from his food duties.

you're much more efficient with the grill, anyway.

hannah's jaw drops when she notices max's silence. she presses her lips together. "oh, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to-"

"it's alright," max smiles, dismissing her apology. "i just didn't know she attended."

"attended?" daniel snorts, leaning back in his seat. typically, daniel would never drop a fact he isn't sure you wanted out, but he's very wasted in his defence. "she's still here. geri called her in a while ago."

max's world starts to spin. this could be his chance. the only one left to make things right with you.

in fact, it didn't matter the outcome of the night. he just wanted to talk to you - see you one more time before he calls it quits on the hopes of ever having you back in his arms.

"she's still here?" max perks up, his hands gripping on the armrests of the patio seat like his life depended on it. he looks around the table, at liam, at hannah, everyone, but they don't give him an answer.

they just stare at him, lips parted as max's chest starts to heave from the simple thought of you being a few metres from him. he throws his hands in the air. "guys?"

"yes," yuki spits out, putting his plate on the table. "she is still here. she's inside the house with geri and the kids."

he breathes out shakily, scanning the exterior of the home. he nods, all the while he feels like his body is floating. he never thought he’d ever come by you ever again after everything that happened.

especially with all the rumours that can be taken out of proportion without you talking, it’s all definitely too much.

"oh, i need to talk to her," max says hurriedly, scrambling to get to his feet. he is only able to take one step away from the table when the lights go out and christian's voice is heard on the speakers set up at the dj booth.

he sighs, forced to sit back down again. of course this is the year christian decides to follow through with his promises to perform for the entire team.

daniel sighs, though a sloppy smile stretches his lips. "oooh, christian's going to get down and dirty," he mutters, wiggling in his seat while he giggles with his beer bottle right by his mouth.

that’s when he sees you, running out of the doors that lead to the backyard, surrounded by christian’s squealing and giggling children that sounded above the booming music. your hair is up in a claw clip, your fringe framing your face just as well.

while christian’s performance is something he’s been looking forward to his entire formula 1 career, he can’t help but bask in the overwhelming familiarity that washes over him at the sight of you.

you stop right before the table, the other end from him, hands wrapped around geri’s arm as you watch christian in awe.

his entire world stops then and there, suddenly unsure of how to approach you. will he really be able to handle it if you refuse his apology?

how everything would crumble for him again if he left today without you back in his life the way he wants it? it just seems near impossible.

he watches you throw your head back, laughing before looking around. he tells himself to look away but he just can’t — meeting your eyes a feeling he’s been yearning for all these months without you.

you freeze when your warm eyes meet his blue ones. your jaw drops slightly, the smile is completely wiped off and you let go of geri’s arm. he sees your chest heave as you take a step back away from geri.

your stare lingers, making max contemplate if that was an invitation for him to come to you. but max cannot fathom the glistening of your eyes — are they tears or just the reflection of the lights that surround you?

the music abruptly stops, making you turn to the stage, erupting in cheers as you clap your hands.

he watches you run towards christian, throwing your arms around his team principal as your hands come up to wipe your face.

he watches you talk to him for a bit before you quickly excuse yourself to walk towards the house. here he is with an empty stomach and all the courage in the world.

he runs after you, leaving and ignoring daniel's calls for him to come back and think it over first.

"(y/n)," max calls out into the well-lit house, eyes darting all over the near empty house for you.

your shoes go against the floor, snapping max's head towards the bathroom door. chest still heaving with your fists clenched by your sides. mascara pools under your eyes; almost unnoticeable if he hadn't had you memorised like the back of his hand.

a shakey breath passes your trembling lips as you slowly drop your head. your eyes dart to the group of kids stumbling over their feet to get themselves out of the house.

a small part of all this feels planned. if not by geri, most likely christian. that damned performance was just a ruse to get you to stay longer until max arrived for the evening.

it's genius, actually.

"max."

all of the thoughts that flooded your brain when you locked eyes with him earlier are suddenly gone. something about you never wanting to see him again, or perhaps it was an 'i miss you' threatening to spill out of your mouth now that he's here?

you can't seem to remember and it's only adding to the growing frustration in your chest.

oh, how you've missed being this close of reach to him. if you really tried, you can smell his cologne from the other side of the room and you can almost imagine how his hand would feel in yours.

but you barely recognise the man standing in front of you. the same goes for him, eyes roaming every part of your body as you stand in silence.

it seems so much has changed in such a short amount of time.

you look slimmer than how max remembers you. but you look happier - a state that he has rarely seen you in for a long while. maybe the relationship really was meant to meet its end when it did.

but the tears falling on your cheeks made him convince himself otherwise. maybe you missed him too; maybe these past 2 and a half months were just as excruciating for you as it was for him.

just sitting and hoping on his maybe's again.

"fuck," max says under his breath, finally finding it in himself to walk towards you. "fuck's sake. come here."

a million possibilities run through your mind. as he makes his way over to you, you're frozen in place once more. is this really how it's going to be? after all that process you made, after all the tears.

all those were to only end up in his arms again? you being to wonder: what were all those tears and sleepless nights for if you would only run back to him?

all of your preached rationality ceases to exist when he's a pace away from you, your arms thrown around his shoulders as you bury your face into his neck. his grip around your waist is tight, his face buried in your shirt as he lifts you up slightly.

"i'm sorry," max whispers, nuzzling his face deeper into your shoulder, his own tears spilling out of his eyes to the fabric of your shirt. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have let you walk away."

but you shake your head. the mental image of that picture of max and kelly walking in the paddocks flashes in your mind suddenly. you try to unwrap his arms around you, but then he only tightens his arms around you.

"i'm sorry. i should have asked you to stay," he confesses, his mind a mess from all of the things he's thought of saying to you. "i should have told you that there's a way to work it out. it didn't have to come to a breakup."

"but you turned to her anyway!" you say through gritted teeth, taking a deep breath to muster up the courage to pull away. and you do, stumbling steps back as you go into a sob. it would have been all fine if those pictures never leaked. "you went to the one person i didn't want to see you with!"

max's hair is dishevelled, his tear-stained cheeks are flushed and his lips are swollen. "what?"

you shake your head and hold a hand up, taking another step away from him. "don't act stupid. i always knew you wanted kelly. you got what you wanted when i broke up with you, didn't you? that's why there were pictures of you together after news of our break-up leaked. isn't it, max? to rub it in my face?"

"you don't even know what you're talking about!" max fights, throwing his hands in the air. "i could say the same for you - wearing the first dress i got you out to the club and leaving with some other guy? your pictures were more suggestive than ours; we were just fucking walking!"

you laugh dryly, rolling your eyes. you wipe your eyes roughly and throw your head back. "at least i can admit if something had happened. but you're still fucking denying every little thing. you're such a cunt, max."

"i'm not denying anything."

"yeah, you are!" you point an accusing finger at him and click your tongue. "you wanted out but didn't want to be the one to rip the bandaid off! what was it, max? some sort of familiarity with me that you couldn't bear to leave?"

"absolutely not. i fucking love you!" max's eyes widen in disbelief at what he's hearing. "nothing happened with kelly - i was doing her father a favour!"

you smile slightly and raise your eyebrow. "i've heard that excuse before, max. go say it to somebody who will believe you."

max rolls his eyes. "you already broke up with me. what do i get from lying to you now?"

"who knows? maybe you just don't like the thought of me moving on," you shrug, placing your hands on your hips. "pretty self-centred if you ask me."

"literally," max takes a deep breath, "just shut up and listen to me."

"literally," you mimic him in the same tone, "there's absolutely nothing to talk about."

you turn around, pushing the hair out of your face. you've stopped crying, your throat sore from all the panting and screaming you've just done. thank god for the music booming outside - your conversation is safe from nosey ears.

maybe christian turned it up when he saw max running after you.

max shakes his head, falling silent. "you've got no fucking idea what you're talking about. i loved you then, and i love you now. if i didn't..."

"if you didn't, then what?" you snort. "you expect me to believe you?"

he takes a deep breath, locking eyes with you. he takes a cautious step forward. "i have thought about you so much since we've been apart. i don't think anything has ever been so clear to me before."

"yeah?" you smile lopsidedly. it immediately drops when he takes another step, and you set it off with a step back. "seemed pretty clear to you when you let me fucking walk out of your driver's room without another word."

max sighs. "i should have fought for you harder that night. i'm sorry."

"then why?" you cry, tears falling out of your eyes immediately. your hands come up to cover your eyes as you break into a full sob. "why didn't you chase after me? why didn't you call?"

you tear your hands away from your eyes, one palm resting on your chest while you heave. "why didn't you text me? why didn't you bother reaching out? you had every fucking opportunity, max! why did you let it get this fucking far?"

max only drops his head in shame. of course, he had his reasons not to reach out to you. "i don't know," he says softly, shaking his head. "i didn't think you still wanted to be with me. you broke up with me. i didn't know what to think. i thought it was over."

"i spent the better part of 6 years of my life with you," you say weakly. a lump forms in your throat, prompting you to close your eyes. you squeak out a sob as you drop to your knees, a soft thud coming from the contact. "and you couldn't even ask me to stay."

you look up at him, teary-eyed as you clutch onto your chest in desperation. "i would have stayed if you said don't go. i waited, max."

he nods, walking over to where you are. he gets dejavu as he drops himself next to you, sitting cross-legged in christian's apartment. it's just like the time you broke up.

you adjust yourself, sitting a proper few centimetres away from him. both of you press your backs against the wall behind you. the music is just as loud as before, consuming the silence that you let fester the air between you.

you drop your head on the wall, the sound of both your cries barely heard within the music between you.

"but i did miss you," you whisper. "every single waking moment in the days after. i kept thinking i made a mistake, and that you knew it too. i kept holding out hope for you to show up at my door, telling me off for being stupid and breaking up with you."

max just looks down at his legs. he claps his hands together, shakily trying to steady his breath as he calms from his sob. "i didn't think you'd want me back. the state of our relationship before we broke up... (y/n)... you're rational enough to admit that that wasn't going to do it for us. we needed the time apart to figure it out."

you smile to yourself, nodding slightly. barely noticeable. you let a moment pass. "nothing happened, by the way."

"hm?" he hums, turning his head to look at you.

"after the club," you admit. "i blew him off at the lobby of my apartment building. i stumbled home and fell asleep on my couch. dress, makeup, heels - the whole shebang."

max smiles. his hand flinches, two voices in his mind fighting over the next course of movement for him. he ought to make the first move once in a while.

he reaches over to you, firmly grabbing your hand. "i'm sorry i didn't know just how much you meant to me. it shouldn't have taken a breakup for me to realise that you're the love of my life."

you smile back at him, squeezing his hand. "i never wanted to break up with you." you drop your head on his shoulder. "i was just so tired. i would look at pictures of us wishing it was that simple again."

he rests his head above yours. suddenly, it all seemed so quiet. you feel your broken bones mending, the lump in your throat disappearing and a weight lifted off your shoulders.

but if it had been this easy, maybe there's something more. something you're not quite getting yet even after spending almost 3 months apart.

"i totally get it if you say no," max whispers, taking a deep breath. he can't go on without trying to make a move himself. you're already right here. "but do you wanna grab dinner some time with me?"

you lift your head, lips parting. you stare at him with wide eyes while your brain goes into overdrive. a million questions run through your head.

is this really for the best? is this a resolution you can live with?

on one hand, if you choose to be with him again, the puzzle pieces can fit the way they used to again. it will be you and him against the world once more - the way it always should have been. but how sure are you that it won't end up in shambles once more?

will you never find yourself in gut-wrenching pain ever again from what seems like the worst loss you'll experience in your life? would it even be worth it?

you take a deep breath, and you squeeze his hand.

ending 1.

ending 2.

taglist: @merchelsea @leclercdream @labelledejourr @laneyspaulding19 @lpab @graciewrote @hollie911 @thatsojasminesworld @mycenterfold @princessria127 @ironmaiden1313 @dl-yum @crlsummer @brekkers-whore @minkyungseokie @honethatty12 @barelytolerabled @vellicora @lokigoeschoki @avg-golden-retriever @lokigoeschoki @cherry-piee @telengraph @eviethetheatrefreak @hrlzy

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 fanfiction #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke midnights

[stxrvel]

gym time

summary: you didn't expect to meet someone like Bucky Barnes when you decided to enter the gym, especially since his looks and words were anything but friendly.

pairing: au!bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +1k

warning: uhm, descriptions of bucky working out? some bad words. also i suck at summaries but what i was trying to say is that bucky is very suggestive here, and there will be suggestive conversations iykwim. this chapter doesn't contain too much of that but still minors do not interact!!!!

note: hi guys! um, i dont know what to say. being honest idk why i wrote this when i dont know if i'll ever be able to continue it, i think it was for the joy or fun in it and maybe trying to test new things? i kind of wrote the draft for a second part but i dont think i want this one to be a series, i wanted to see it like a drabble but i got carried away and now there are too many words. but what i do know now is that i will be pleased to write drabbles in a scenario like this, like in this universe or au. if you guys liked this (which i hope so) would you mind sending me what would you like to see next? only time will tell how good i'm doing but i hope i can at least entertain you a little. anyway, looking forward to your opinions and i really hope you like this one! since it's my first time writing in this kind of genre :'(

You were at the gym. It had been barely a week since you had started with the goal of creating a routine in your life, because work was consuming you from the inside out. Coming home no longer felt like it used to, when you still had the fever of being independent and being able to get yourself everything you wanted. Adult life really was a mud puddle compared to what we always thought as kids.

So… yeah, you decided to join the gym closest to your apartment to try to change your bad procrastination habits a bit. Maybe now that you were paying for it with your own money you'd feel more like going, just for the sake of not making the money go to waste. But, hey, it was something.

During that week everything had been relatively fine. You hadn't had any problems with anyone, no awkward comments and you had gotten some workout partners to take turns lifting weights or running on the treadmills with at the same time.

It was honestly becoming your favorite place to be after work.

And, well, of course, there was him.

The man you shared end-to-end glances with at the gym. He never came close, always kept his space, unless he had to use some machine near where you were.

He looked like a decent man… and definitely sexy. But you didn't dare get close even though it seemed to be the only thing the two of you wanted to do. The furtive glances weren't even accidental anymore, you both sought each other out through the masses of air as if it was second nature to you. And that upset you too much because it hadn't been too many days, how could you feel so passionate and heated just sharing glances with a stranger? Within what you didn't know there might be something you didn't like, even.

Anyway, you had to avert your gaze each time before it became too much, but it always seemed like it wasn't enough for the people around you not to notice.

“Why don't you just go talk to him?” Veronica spoke in front of you, waiting for Erika to leave the press to start her series.

You were on the treadmill finishing your routine that day and that man was on the other side of the gym, lifting weights like they were nothing. You had watched him for so long without embarrassment that you had almost memorized every line of his massive arms. And your partners that day had definitely noticed.

“I don't think it's appropriate,” was all you could think of.

Erika snorted, lowering her legs as she put down the weights. “She's afraid the sexual tension surrounding them will suffocate her.”

“Erika!” you scowled at her. “Stop talking nonsense.”

“I'm of the same opinion as Veronica, you should just go talk to him. If it turns out his personality isn't as sexy as his body, you're not going to lose anything and you're going to gain a lot.”

Veronica, who had already settled into the press after Erika cleaned the chair, nodded animatedly at her partner's words.

You turned your head to look at him again, just as his strong hands released the weight that bounced to the floor. You saw him shake his arms slightly and move his shoulders in circles, releasing the tension a little at a time. Even in the distance you could make out as if he were right beside you the line of his veins running around his arms and the-

“Look at her, she's drooling already.”

You clicked your tongue and Erika only shared a chuckle with Veronica. You decided to focus solely on getting the treadmill over with quickly so you could get through that day.

-

You came out of the shower with an incredible freshness dancing in your body. In the bathrooms the atmosphere was always a little cooler than in the center of the gym, so the time after the bath was one of your favorites. Veronica and Erika had already left, they had said goodbye before you entered the shower. They always left at seven o'clock at night, but you preferred to stay a little longer and enjoy the showers you paid for because you didn't have much to do at home when you got there.

With the towel over your right shoulder you walked towards the lockers to get your training bag and other belongings. You thought for a moment about leaving a few things from your bag since there would be a zumba class early tomorrow morning and maybe you were getting a little interested in going, when you heard some footsteps close to where you were.

There shouldn't have been too many people left in the gym at that time because closing time was at 8:00 p.m., so someone else must have gotten out of the shower to get their belongings just like you.

You decided to leave a few things in the locker for the next day's class, encouraging you a little more to leave the house a little earlier. Anyway, you knew Veronica would be there so you wouldn't be alone.

You pulled out the bag with the things you were going to take with you and closed the locker. You turned around to leave, when you finally realized who else had come in after you.

It was him. It was that man.

You had never met him in the evenings. He always left before seven o'clock so you never had the chance to meet him alone until that moment, when you stopped dead in front of him, your sneakers grinding against the floor as if you had braked violently at fifty kilometers per hour.

Your locker was all the way in the left corner of that room and it looked like his was a few spaces away from yours in the same direction, closer to the door.

His gaze lifted in your direction at the sound of your shoes and you had to squeeze your bag strap tightly over your shoulder, eating your embarrassment fiercely.

“Hey,” he spoke first and his voice was nothing like you had imagined.

It was incredibly better. His baritone tone, somewhat raspy and light, sounded like he didn't have a care in the world. The way he slightly curved his lips sent an electric sensation throughout your body. He had given you that smile before, but at that proximity it was a whole new experience. It seemed like your body began to vibrate on another frequency.

“How did you like the gym?”

“Uh?”

The man turned back to you, closing his locker almost at the same time and leaning his shoulder against it in the most smooth way you'd ever seen, handling his body with a confidence that almost made you feel intimidated.

“You're new here, aren't you?”

“Ah, yes,” you nodded slightly, again feeling that embarrassment make its way from your throat. “I've really liked the gym, I've felt very comfortable thankfully. And the monthly plans are very good, affordable.”

The man nodded attentively at your words, as you tried to keep your composure under his sharp gaze.

“I'm Bucky,” he suddenly introduced himself, stepping a little closer to where you stood.

“I'm Y/N,” you kept your voice steady as you raised your hand to meet his that had just extended in front of you at a safe distance. “A pleasure.”

“The pleasure's all mine,” Bucky gave your hand a good shake, causing things in your body that you were too embarrassed to admit. You didn't know if your cheeks could get flushed, but at that moment you felt like they looked cartoonish, vibrant red and hot. “And I'm glad to hear you're comfortable. I do my best to make my clients happy.”

“Oh…?”

Even though you felt spellbound under the piercing fierceness of those blue eyes, your ears were still working enough to allow your head to process what you'd heard.

“You're the owner?”

Bucky nodded and you wanted to hide your head in a hole for a moment.

So you'd been eye-fucking the owner of the gym? Hell, now that you thought about it more clearly, it could even be that this man was older than you, much older.

Oh no, the things you had to go through for not being a little more prudent. Good thing that embarrassing moment would only be in your head.

“And now that you know, you can drop any complaints or recommendations directly to me, if you want.”

You let out a short laugh, trying to cut through the awkwardness you felt inside as you realized the situation you were in.

“Sure, yeah, anything I need to tell you I'll do it personally.”

“Also if you want me to change something… give you something or do something, you can tell me.”

“Sure,” you nodded quickly, starting to move around him to get closer to the exit. Bucky wouldn't take his eyes off you. “Now I know I'm counting on you for anything…. From the gym, that is.”

Your awkward laugh died under his intense but amused gaze. Was he enjoying it?

“And you can talk to me, if you want too,” Bucky continued speaking as you completely surrounded him and now found yourself in the position he had been before, “not just watching me from afar.”

You were sure the blood had left your face by this time. Your level of embarrassment had gone over the edge and in that instant you didn't know how to do anything but look at him as if he had caught you in the middle of a crime. You tightened the strap of your bag while holding your breath as you noticed him moving a little closer towards you.

“It's not that it bothers me, don't go thinking that. It's just that… I'd like to get to know you a little more if that's possible.”

“Uhm…” you mumbled with a dry mouth, the reflection of the light in his blue eyes much clearer against the short distance between the two of you. You passed saliva with difficulty, shaking your head to answer him, “Yeah, sure. I'd like to know you too.”

You watched out of the corner of your eye as he nodded at your words, not making a move to get any closer. If that five-foot distance alone already felt like you were suffocating, you didn't want to imagine what it would be like to have him standing to the side or behind you explaining how to do some exercise even though you already knew how to do them all…

Shit.

“See you then, doll.”

He walked around you, walking away from that conversation and that tension like it was nothing, like a bomb hadn't just exploded in front of you. You couldn't even say anything goodbye to him, you didn't know in that instant how to move your mouth.

For a moment you felt so foolish for allowing yourself to show yourself in such a vulnerable way in front of a man… but, at the same time, so much had happened since the last time you had actively flirted with one of them (even though what you had done at that moment had been spitting words). You'd barely had a taste to remember what the adrenaline, excitement and anticipation of having a truly fun night was like… that you didn't plan on letting go.

Bucky had thrown you that rope and you were sure you were going to take it.

-

a/n: thank you for reading!! <3

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky x you #stxrvel talks #bucky fluff #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes x you

[vinxhwrites]

I've had this idea in my drafts for a long time and only finished it today because I was procrastinating on the many many assignments I have for this week. I've never written smut before so I don't know what I'm doing, also I'm very sleepy so maybe it sucks, but here it is:

ghost x f!reader x soap

nsfw, +18

word count: 8.2k

cw: nsfw! lots of fluff, tiniest bit of h/c, smut in the end, unprotected sex (don't do it!); alcohol consumption, quite long descriptions of anxieties I guess; also not proofread, sorry

You enjoyed existing in the liminal space between something romantic and something purely friendly. You wanted to get to know every aspect of love, feel it from all directions, in all its forms.

You always wondered what exactly was the tipping point to make one thing turn into another. You wondered if it even existed, if experience could ever be restrained to one set type of relationship, if love could be divided into sections, named and labeled, put into existence and then put to death once things ended, instead of just being the overflowing unconditional force that you hoped it was.

In reality, of course, love can't be limited or restrained by words that aim to define, control or organize it. In practice, you've found it within yourself as something stronger, more nuanced, and freeing than you could've ever hoped it would be.

Ghost first heard Soap refer to you as his "nap buddy" over breakfast one day. He frowned, the first thought to cross his mind being whether the two of you were skipping work to take naps. But Soap went on, telling Gaz about how he'd been creeping into your bed at night when he couldn't sleep. "I feel like a baby, I swear" Ghost overheard him say "she'll just tell me stories until I fall asleep."

It all had started almost two months prior to that conversation, when you bumped into Soap in the corridor one night. You were both sleepy but suffering from insomnia. He shared little tips with you on what usually helped him: walking around, counting sheep, breath exercises; although he admitted this time none of it was working.

You explained your problem was the crippling anxiety that came with the insomnia sessions. You hated being alone with your thoughts during the dark moments of the night, which filled you with unreasonable angst.

You two walked around outside for a while. It was a cold night and you both started to shiver a bit. Soap rubbed his hand on your back in an attempt to warm you, but you concluded it was best to go back to your rooms. Then, as you approached your door, right beside his, you had an idea:

"Hey, I hope this doesn't sound too weird...but would you like to try to sleep with me?"

He smiled at you and accepted the invite.

At that moment, you navigated the perfect moment of sleepiness when rational thoughts can barely form, all that is left are the primary ideas, informed only by your senses and memories. The anxious voices of decent social conduct are far too tired to interject with your thoughts at this point. Anything can seem appropriate, nothing feels real and there is true bliss to be found somewhere.

That's why it felt so natural to curl up in bed with Soap that night, you rested your head on his shoulder and he held your hand. He caressed your hair before saying something nice about the way you smelled and closed his eyes. You surely talked for a bit, in whispers, but neither of you would be able to recall what the conversation was about if someone asked. And just like that, both of you were able to fall asleep in a few minutes of comfort.

It quickly developed into a habit for difficult nights, you now depended on these moments as if they were some kind of medicine. It surely didn't make the issue go away completely for either of you, but it sure was nice to find some comfort in each other's company. Having someone to talk to was a good distraction from your racing thoughts, it was easier to relax when you were with him. Plus, he didn't seem to mind how you jumped effortlessly from one topic to another, talking about anything that came to mind.

Soon, Soap started looking for you even before trying to fall asleep by himself, "preventive care" he explained with a smile when you'd open the door relatively early at night, looking a bit puzzled. You got into the habit of telling him stories, real and made-up, creating nice scenarios for his dreams.

You've let him kiss you a few times, but it never really went much further than that, even though it was no secret that he liked you as a bit more than a friend.

Part of the reason for your contentment with kisses was that both of you were almost always too tired to invest in more than that, but part of it was because of your resistance to changing your relationship dynamic. What you had built with him felt so stable in its tenderness that you were scared to risk losing it.

You've always felt, previously in life, that sex complicated things. Especially with men, especially when you thought they were your friends first, to later be heartbroken by the fact that they really just wanted to fuck you, and had no love to give. You really wished it would be different with him.

But Soap was well-versed in love, he wasn't scared of it. He fully embraced it, actually. Sometimes, while you played with your fingers through his hair, he'd make a point of telling you about his love, the depths of it, how much he could give you of it if you'd let him.

"But it's perfect like this" you cried, anytime he brought up the topic of sex, fearing the inevitable low after the high. Yet, to him sex was irremovable from love, it was the best way he knew how to demonstrate it.

He once told you that you made him feel like a teenager again, saying you were like his prudish high school girlfriend.

The furthest you've gone at this point was letting him finger you one night, just because he begged and whined so much. "I need to feel you" he said, out of breath from kissing you, and you just couldn't resist. It wasn't like you didn't desire him, you were scared doing it would make you want him more. And it did.

He licked his own fingers afterward, which made a moan escape from your mouth. He kissed you again before resting his head on your shoulder. Didn't ask for anything in return. Soap was a lover by definition. And the fact that he respected your boundaries made you treasure him even more.

"You know you can sleep with other people, right?" you assured him, afraid that he'd resent you if you kept him waiting.

"Yeah, but it's not the same thing" he replied.

You were on a first-name basis now, you called him Johnny and, when the two of you were alone, he called you "baby", even letting it slip in front of other people sometimes.

Ghost reprehended you for it one day when he heard it. Not Johnny, you. It was inadequate, he said, and made you apologize to him.

You thought Ghost was scary. It was in a similar manner to which you used to think your linguistics professor at University was scary: in a hot, sexy but very menacing way. You desired his approval and had the impression that you were never going to get it. His mere presence made your legs weak. Maybe it was the authority aspect that messed with your mind, or at least that's what you tried to justify to yourself.

He intimidated you more than anyone, constantly making you feel inadequate just by looking at you. It felt unfair to not even be able to see him properly most of the time, it made you feel naked in every interaction when he could see you so clearly. And on top of that, there was the constant staring: You were always under his watch if he was around as if he was constantly waiting for you to do something wrong. Plus, he seemed to be way more critical of you than he was of others, always questioning you or anything you did, and complaining about your skills or your lack of punctuality (even if you were late by just a minute).

"I think he hates me," you told Johnny one day. "I really do".

He chuckled in response. "He doesn't hate you. He's just really bad at expressing...anything"

"I think he's really good at expressing his hatred for me" you whined back "He doesn't treat you as badly".

"Well, baby, but you can't compete with me!" he smirked proudly "He loves me".

The truth is Ghost loved hearing you say "I'm sorry, sir" in a soft and exhausted voice, it tickled something inside him that he couldn't quite name. It was equally exciting and disturbing to him. But you didn't know that, which is why it caught you by surprise when he showed up at your door one night, as you were about to fall asleep.

Ghost wasn't one to sleep together, not even with the random people he had sex with on occasion. Sleep had always been a solitary activity to him, something he struggled with by himself.

The idea of having someone to sleep with, of it being such a comfort hadn't left his mind ever since he heard John talking about it at the table weeks before. He started to catch himself fantasizing about it, thinking about the warmth of having someone's body so close to him, if it'd be something to shield him from his nightmares. He started to wonder about how soft your skin must feel.

It was a foreign feeling to him, this yearning for something so intimate, but it got to a point where he just had to try it.

"Ghost?" you were confused. He wore sweatpants and a long-sleeved grey t-shirt, and still had a black balaclava on. He closed the door behind him.

"Johnny said you let him sleep with you sometimes" he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable.

"Right" you responded, waiting for him to scold you for it. But he just stood there in silence "Would you like to sleep here too...?" you guessed amused after he let the silence hang for a bit too long.

He took a deep breath, "May I?" he asked.

"Sure, come here." you moved closer to the wall to make space for him. You couldn't help but smile as you felt him sit down on your bed, the heat coming from his body already making you want to get closer.

"You know I don't have sex with him, right?"

"I didn't come here for sex" he answered immediately, sounding almost offended, then sighed "I can't sleep''.

"OK" you said, already regretting having opened your mouth in the first place.

He laid down on his back beside you exhausted and took a deep breath. He removed his balaclava and put it on your nightstand. You noticed you were holding your breath, terrified of ruining this moment of intimacy.

"You'd better not snore" he said in a low voice, adjusting himself on your pillow with a hand behind his head and the other on his chest.

You chuckled a bit, letting yourself relax by his side. "I don't snore." you assured him "at least, not that I know of".

Ghost didn't answer you this time, and even in the dark you could see he had closed his eyes.

"Permission to touch you, sir?" you asked in a whisper after a few seconds of collecting your courage, craving to feel his skin.

That first night, he let you hold his hand while you two slept. It felt tiny and fragile on his. When he woke up sweating in the middle of the night, as he often did, his heart rate eased when he felt your presence by his side, it did feel different.

He avoided you like the plague for three days straight after that night, you thought he'd never look at you again. You thought you've done something wrong and scared him away. In reality, he was scared he'd poisoned himself by getting a taste of something so novel to him, and feared he'd become addicted to it.

He tried to go back to his regular routine, but now the emptiness of his bedroom felt even more evident, his bed felt colder. Then, when you were starting to become at peace with the anxiety that had built up in your stomach at this point, he showed up at your door again.

This time he didn't say anything after you agreed to let him in, feeling absolutely defeated. He laid on his side, his back turned to you. You asked if you could touch him once more and when he agreed you threw your arm around his torso, cuddling him. He felt a goosebump as your breath touched his back.

And he wouldn't tell you, but when he woke up he couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a good night of sleep.

You told Johnny about it the next day as casually as possible, fearing to find a trace of jealousy in his eyes. But instead, they seemed to brighten with delight. "See, I told you he didn't hate you" he smiled.

For the next few weeks, your lieutenant started being kinder to you, albeit in his own way. He stopped reprehending you for stupid reasons, gave you a little pat on the back when you did well during training, and even made you a cup of tea once when he heard Gaz comment that you had a cold one day, putting it in front of you at the table and walking away without saying a word.

You discovered him to be someone more playful than you previously imagined, witty even. The affection you had for him grew stronger with each passing day, as your impression of him morphed into something new, and you just couldn't keep it to yourself. But, unlike Johnny, who loved being touched, Ghost had serious boundaries. Most times you could tell you'd overstepped. He'd let you know it immediately: removing your hand from his face if you touched it, clearly stating "don't" if you ever dared to try to touch his hair, he'd move his hand away when you started to mindlessly draw circles on it with your fingers, and - the only aspect that didn't make you feel completely rejected - pushing you away slightly in bed if you ever got close enough to feel the solid volume in his pants.

For him, physical touch tended to be a utilitarian exchange: maybe he'd get a pat on the shoulder for doing a good job, he'd get kisses and caresses when someone used him for sex, he'd get injured during combat, but your touch was something new: it made no practical sense, there was no transaction to be made, no endpoint, it was just affection for the sake of affection. He didn't know what to do with it.

As your intimacy deepened, Ghost revealed to you that suffered from terrible migraines every once in a while and got into the habit of coming to sleep with you on those days, although he did complain every single time that your constant rambling on different topics made his head hurt even more. He'd retract the statement as soon as you stopped talking though.

One day, when he was in a particularly terrible mood, you offered him a massage. "What good will that do, huh?" he grunted "You just want to touch me"

You chuckled "well, that is partially true, sir" and he smiled behind his balaclava. But you insisted, proceeding to explain how the tension on his neck muscles could be causing the headaches, or at least making them worse, and that was enough to convince him to let you do it.

"It doesn't work if you don't try to relax" you said, pressing your fingers to the base of his neck. You were sitting on the bed, back rested on your pillow, with him between your legs, his back turned to you.

"I'm trying" he mumbled.

"Come on, deep breaths," you said, and you knew immediately that he was probably rolling his eyes. "Come on" you insisted patiently, massaging just the right spot on the back of his shoulders as he let out a low moan, letting his head rest forward.

"See, isn't it better?" you said enthusiastically.

"Stop talking" he grunted, which you did, continuing to massage him in silence.

It took you by surprise when you felt his thumb lightly caress your right ankle, it was a timid touch, and you felt afraid he would stop if you moved, even though that leg felt a bit numb already.

You could feel his body melt under your touch bit by bit, letting more of his weight rest on you. He forgot about his headache, only focused on the delicious slumber that took over his body now.

"You're gonna have to do this every day now" he muttered, eyes closed.

"I'll gladly do it" you assured him, treasuring the way he seemed so relaxed now. You had to fight the urge to put a kiss on his neck with all your might.

That night he held you like a pillow, resting his head on your stomach. You slowly pulled his mask up, waiting to see if there'd be any resistance, but there wasn't.

He shivered when you then touched his hair. It felt soft. You scratched his head gently with your nails and he savoured the foreign feeling that it caused.

"You little demon" he whispered, surrendering completely to your touch.

Ghost knew what love was supposed to look like. He just wasn't that sure about how it felt to receive it anymore. The more he thought about it, the more he was under the impression that he lacked the vocabulary to express it.

Once, when working in complete silence next to him, filling and writing reports, you asked:

"Can you take a look at this, sir?" you held the paper in front of him.

"You know you can call me Simon" he said, eyes still fixed on his papers.

"I didn't actually." you said and he looked at you, you could notice a quick smile appear on his eyes.

"Ok, now you know."

You smiled and he moved his gaze back to the papers in front of him.

"Can you take a look at this, Simon?" you repeated, and this time he looked up and happily took the paper from your hand.

Simon had never really tried anything besides actual sleep with you, and you were terrified of initiating it yourself and getting rejected. But sometimes you could feel the imminence of something, nothing clear or distinct, just the way the silence of the room felt different, a change in the pace of his breathing or a slight shift in the atmosphere. On these moments you'd feel like he could turn you over and fuck you at any second. It fed the anticipation in your chest, but it never happened.

You wondered, at times, if you were somehow able to read his thoughts in cryptic ways and that's how you'd know he was thinking about fucking you.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked in a whisper one of these nights.

"Why do you care?" his response was immediate, defensive. Your fantasies definitely weren't supported by his lack of attention to your romantic attempts.

"Just wondering" you shrugged. "Are you not going to tell me?"

He looked at you, and even in the dark you could tell he was smiling "No".

You prayed that he would kiss you, just a little bit would be enough. But, of course, he didn't.

"I was thinking about you, in case you were wondering," you said casually a few moments later, gazing at his face. You were getting sloppier with hiding your feelings for him, he couldn't possibly not see it.

He chuckled quietly at your response, "Stop flirting with me" he said and you felt your cheeks turn red, "you should get some sleep" he suggested then, shutting off the conversation. And, as if he intended to get you a bit more confused, he lightly caressed your hair.

Sometimes you'd wish he'd just reject you once and for all so you could move on. But the more you thought about your love the more you wanted to cultivate it and share it with him, the same way you felt you could share with Johnny. And if Simon didn't want it, so be it. It felt like, and it was, a big act of bravery on your part. At least you'd be able to comfort yourself on the fact that you loved, it grew and flourished inside you, and it was a beautiful thing.

It got to the point where one of them was occupying your bed almost every day of the week, people were starting to catch on to it. You knew the day would come when they'd both show up and the thought alone made you nauseous, at least until it actually happened.

You held your breath when you heard Johnny's steps approaching your door, even before he knocked on it.

"Come in" Simon said before you could even react.

Johnny tilted his head for a second, looking amused at the scene of his lieutenant cuddling you. He closed the door behind him and took off his slippers, then he approached your bed to lay down beside you.

You held your breath when you saw Johnny rest his neck on Simon's extended arm so nonchalantly. Simon didn't move his arm. You couldn't exactly name what is it that you feared at that moment, the next few moments of silence translated into nervousness within you. Johnny took your arm and casually put your hand on his chest.

"So," he said, looking at Simon playfully "Are you trying to steal her from me?"

Simon chuckled "Didn't know she was yours to steal".

The tension you felt was not shared between them.

"You could've come to sleep with me, lieutenant," Johnny said, he sounded almost offended that Simon would have preferred to sleep with you.

"Back at you, Johnny" he murmured, closing his eyes, making Johnny smile from ear to ear.

You knew your bed surely wasn't made for three, but you managed to make it comfortable. You woke up lying on top of Johnny like a baby, your chest to his, while Simon laid on his side with one arm thrown around you.

That night, Johnny could almost feel his heart flutter and twirl inside his chest. It was perfect. He had so much love to give, he couldn't wait to share it. To him, Love was generous and ever-giving, it was infinite, it overpowered him and he gladly let it.

To Simon, on the other hand, Love was a terrifying force he feared would take over him completely if he let it. He feared it could destroy him, or, even worse, he would destroy it. But, at moments like this one, he couldn't help but let love overflow in his heart, couldn't resist the warmth both of you shared from entering his own body.

Throughout the whole following day, you felt a sweet anticipation for something in your stomach, being only able to think about how nice it had felt to be surrounded by both of them. How you wished you could stay in that state forever, unmoved.

At night, Johnny curled up in bed with you, resting his head on your chest after a tiring day. He seemed almost disappointed to find you alone when he came in, he smiled while he kissed you nonetheless.

He inundated you with questions that gradually turned into whines: did you sleep with him? what do you mean you don't even kiss? what are you doing? don't you find him attractive? why don't you just ask him? do you think we should go after him? why not? let's knock on his door! why not?!

You were able to dissuade him from these impulsive thoughts eventually, stroking your fingers through his hair and recommending that he do the same as you and try to stop thinking about it. It was for the best, you assured him, trying to convince yourself of it, too. He yielded at last, but he wasn't pleased.

"Do you even want me?" he asked with a sigh

"Of course I do." you replied, almost offended at the question "You know I do."

"Doesn't feel like it sometimes" he muttered.

You took a deep breath before taking him through your typical monologue, practically memorized at this point, on your reasons for keeping things as they were - no sex - would be better. The more you talked, the less you found yourself believing in your own words. Still, you tried to make him care for the utter shape of your relationship as it was, in an eternal transient state of a romantic friendship that never lost itself. "That sounds terrible, bonnie" he said, but you insisted he just didn't understand.

"I'm sensitive, Johnny." you tried to explain yourself "I can't stand the thought of ruining what we have."

"Seems like you can't stand the thought of improving them" he sighed.

You knew he had been sleeping with other people, and the thought soothed you more than anything. He never lied to you about it when you asked, and it was comforting to see his heart still belonged to you. You tried to imagine yourself as something separate entirely.

He traced his fingers down to your waist, then hips, and back to your shoulders, letting his hand linger on your breast.

"Don't you want it, baby? Not even a little bit?"

"I do, Johnny" you admitted, not immune to the desire that kept itself alive inside you.

"Haven't you been dreaming about it...?" he continued, his voice lower than before as his fingers played with your hair "Huh? You, me and Simon?"

Your eyes widened at his words, even though you had, in fact, been thinking about it constantly ever since the first night that Simon slept with you.

"That would be a mess" you murmured, telling him what you kept telling yourself.

Johnny chuckled, "a hot, delicious fucking mess?" he suggested.

"Just a regular mess" you lied.

"Just think about it, alright?" he eventually said, resting his head back on your chest.

"Okay." you promised before turning off the light on your nightstand..

"I love you, baby. Truly." he whispered in the dark "There's nothing for you to be afraid of."

"I love you too, Johnny"

Part of you knew it was a silly decision to insist on depriving yourself of pleasure, things were already messy enough. There was no saving any naivety of a friendship that hadn't been merely a friendship from the start, and refusing to admit that you did, in fact, have physical desires toward them was, perhaps, just making things worse. You made a mental note to search for a therapist when you got back home, perhaps dig into whatever religious guilt you seemed to have inherited to drive your decisions.

Nevertheless, you were able to remain firm in your decision. At least until two days later, when everyone went out for drinks at night after a long day.

The sky was dark grey when you left the base to go to the bar. The space was crowded, but comfortable. You knew almost everyone there and quickly settled with some friends.

After one and a half beers Johnny was already getting touchy with you by the counter.

"Have you thought about what I said?"

You nodded and he got closer to you, hands on your waist, "And will you let me make love to you?" he asked softly in your ear.

"Maybe I will" you confessed, already feeling a bit tipsy.

"Come on, bonnie" he insisted, hands on your waist "You know I've been dying to fuck you."

You felt as if your legs would melt right then and there. And, even with your back turned to him, you felt Simon's oppressive stare on you. You turned to find him across the bar.

You both looked at him, sitting at the table next to Price, who seemed to be talking to him, even though his attention laid somewhere else. His hair was covered by a black hoodie, but he didn't cover his face. He grinned at you playfully, taking a sip of the cold beer in his hand.

Johnny followed your gaze and smirked at Simon, then looked back at you with a devilish smile. "I'm gonna get Ghost to come with me" he said and you froze in place.

"I don't think that's a good idea," you plead, already feeling the palms of your hands sweat. What is it exactly that you feared? You didn't really know. It felt childish to be this scared of your own desires.

"I think he's into it" Johnny said, winking at you.

"I don't think so." you grew a bit nervous "I don't think he wants me like that"

Johnny just chuckled in response. "Sure" he said sarcastically. "I can't believe you think that's possible, baby".

You looked around the room nervously, the idea made your stomach turn.

"Tell me you don't want it." he said, suddenly looking at you with a serious expression "Just tell me you don't want it and I won't say anything to him. I'll drop it."

But you couldn't say anything, which made him smile before taking another sip of his beer. Johnny pecked a kiss on your cheek, before leaving you to sit at the table beside Simon.

Although you couldn't pinpoint what exactly caused you so much anxiety, you did notice that it mixed into a twisted excitement.

You watched as they interacted with each other, leaning closer to talk, smiling, and laughing lightly. They looked so pretty you couldn't believe such a dreamy scenario would become a reality to you. Johnny touched Simon's arm and whispered something to him, he grinned and looked at you.

You tried to pretend you hadn't been staring at him the whole time, suddenly feeling a lot of interest in the bottle in your hand and then the conversation that took place between the colleagues beside you.

You tried to distract yourself the rest of the night, interacting with other people and trying your best to focus on different subjects, other people's lives and problems, it was very hard considering that yours seemed to be about to become so much more exciting than anything your friends had been up to.

Johnny didn't seem to want to leave Simon's side anymore, they were engaged in conversation with Price and Gaz at the table on the corner of the bar for what felt like hours to you.

It was pouring rain outside by the time you gave yourself a little tipsy pep talk in the dirty restroom mirror. You told yourself you looked attractive enough, beautiful even. Nothing to worry about.

When you came back, you were so immersed in your own thoughts that you didn't even notice when Simon sat on the barstool beside you.

"What are you thinking about?" you heard his low voice behind you.

You turned around to look at him, feeling blood rush to your cheeks "Didn't see you there"

"Are you not going to tell me?" he repeated your words from the other night with a playful smirk, to which you frowned. He leaned a little closer to you to whisper in a high-pitched voice "I'm thinking about you".

"I don't sound like that"

"Yes, you do" he chuckled.

You took a deep breath before answering, echoing his own words back to him: "Well, you should stop flirting with me"

"I don't think you want me to stop" he grinned, and you wished you knew exactly what Johnny had said to him. "Do you?"

"No," you said frankly "no, I don't."

It was almost 2am when Johnny pointed his head to the door, signaling it was time to leave. Simon was already outside, and you were already soaking wet even before you left the covered environment of the bar.

You thought your heart was trying to jump out of your chest when Simon opened his bedroom door later that night, and felt both of the men you loved follow you inside.

You closed your eyes when you felt both of Simon's hands hold you by the shoulders from behind, as he got closer to you "are you OK, love?" he asked against your neck, the softest you've heard him speak, with the remains of alcohol on his breath. He placed a kiss on your shoulder and you rested your head against his chest.

You nodded, your body burning in anticipation. "Will you guys stop if I don't feel well?" you asked, your voice was almost a whisper.

The anxiety about the implications and consequences of this was already set on your chest. Now there was nothing else to do, no escaping the disturbance this would cause to your life. At this point, stopping would be much worse. Your desires had already manifested, they had been spoken, and transformed, there was nothing left to do but give in to it.

The violent rumbles of lightning bolts shook the sky outside, and sudden flashes of light illuminated the room at an unpredictable frequency. Your eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the room, and the darkness felt comforting, providing an atmosphere of otherworldliness to the room, you could almost imagine this scene took place in a different reality and try not to worry about it.

"Of course" Johnny answered and Simon nodded with his face on your neck.

Johnny kissed you first while Simon held you, his familiar lips searching urgently for you in the dark. You had one hand on his neck, while the other held tight to Simon's, afraid to lose his touch. Johnny looked at him with a smile before grabbing you by the waist and turning you around so that you faced Simon.

"What do you want me to do to you?" Simon asked, looking deep into your eyes, his tone was soft, the question genuine.

“Will you please kiss me?” you cried.

He took your hands in his and kissed them, the small sounds of his kisses covering your fingers and wrists. Then, finally, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You felt your heart could explode at any second. You cupped his face with both hands and caressed his skin.

The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant. His tongue was warm and smooth on yours and he tasted like beer and cigarettes.

You heard when Johnny unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants behind you, grabbing and pulling your hips so you could feel the volume in his underwear, you moaned into Simon's mouth.

Johnny left wet kisses on your neck, making you shiver as he pulled up your t-shirt. Simon cupped your breasts in his hands as soon as he saw them, quickly struggling to free them from your bra, peppering kisses on your chest and nipples.

Simon kneeled in front of you and pulled your pants down, helping you remove your shoes along with them, then smiling at you before kissing over your panties.

You rested your head on Johnny's chest and trusted that his strong grip on your waist would be enough to keep you in place because you barely made any effort to stand anymore.

You hummed when Simon's tongue first touched you, drawing small circles around your clit. Johnny groaned in your ear, pressing his hips against yours, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this horny in his life. His hands danced around your body until, feeling very bold from the alcohol, he moved one of his hands down to stroke Simon's hair.

"tastes so good, doesn't she?' he asked, to which Simon nodded, burying his face deeper between your thighs.

Your mind seemed to finally quiet, you wouldn't be able to form a coherent thought if you tried now. You could feel Simon's desire to devour you.

He slipped a finger inside you, moaning back when you did. He moved his lips back to your clit, sucking it with just enough intensity to make your legs tremble. And, as if he knew, just as you were about to come undone on his touch, Simon stopped, standing up again to kiss you, you whined in protest against his lips, but it was useless.

They exchanged glances and Johnny wet his own lips.

"Let me see you ride him, love" Simon whispered in your ear, eyes fixed to his. And you obeyed.

Johnny quickly removed the rest of his own clothes and lead you to Simon's bed by your hand.

He laid down, but you stood there looking at his body for a moment. He looked so beautiful lying naked in front of you, the low light that came from the window was only enough to highlight the contrast of his features. You couldn't believe you had actually been this stupid to deny yourself from him for so long. You bit your own lip at the sight, his eyes brightened with passion. "Go on" Simon encouraged behind you.

You spread kisses to his chest before sitting on him. You tried to do it slowly, making him roll his eyes back, getting used to the size of it little by little. You both gasped with pleasure when you finally took him in completely.

“You’re so tight, baby” he groaned when you started to move.

You could hear Simon ditching his own clothes somewhere behind you. Then you felt him behind you, one of his big hands gently holding your waist. Simon used his other hand to put one finger in your mouth and you sucked on it, making Johnny audibly moan under you.

You froze immediately when you felt his naked body touch yours, his hardened cock poked the skin of your lower back.

"Relax, I won't do anything you don't want" he assured you in a low voice against your neck. You received wet kisses on your back and shoulders.

Johnny moaned, his fingers tracing your thighs "Feels so good like that" he purred, and you nodded in agreement. He grabbed your hips but Simon quickly slapped his hands away.

Johnny blinked, confused, but then smirked when Simon started to guide your movements by the hips, slowly and gradually changing the speed to fit what you seemed to respond better to. He guided your body on Johnny in a way that made his cock touch you precisely in the right places. You barely had to do any work, so you rested your head on Simon's chest, only opening your eyes to watch Johnny's face under you.

Johnny rubbed his thumb softly on your clit, making very small movements around it. You moved accordingly, enjoying the way the pressure created a response deep within your stomach. You panted on top of him, exhausted but eager to continue, your body guiding you toward release.

The obscene sounds you made were thankfully muffled by the heavy rain outside. You felt your orgasm reach you with the growing rumbles in the sky, which eventually resulted in a violent lightning, not that far from the window. You let your body rest on Simon's chest after the wave of pleasure washed over you.

"You did so good, bonnie" Johnny sat up to kiss your face, and laid back down.

Simon pulled your hips back gently, indicating you should stand on your knees. Intuitively, you positioned yourself so that you could put your lips around Johnny's cock. He closed your eyes when you did.

"Look at her, Johnny" Simon ordered.

He held your hips firmly in place, then pressed into you slowly, savoring how the wet heat between your legs welcomed him.

Johnny had his head resting on one of his arms, his free hand lazily stroking your face as he watched you struggle to fit him in your mouth. He tried his best to be obedient and focus only on you, but his eyes kept looking up curiously, dying to watch Simon's face as he fucked you.

"God, you feel so fucking good" he whimpered before he started moving his hips, filling you completely with every thrust. You could feel his length messing up your insides and you were grateful to have Johnny's cock keeping you silent.

Simon traced his fingers down your spine, around your waist, then back to your neck. He gently stroked your head and grabbed your hair. You thought he'd pull it, but Simon just pressed the back of your head deeper on Johnny's cock, pulling you back when you gagged, then repeating the same movement again and again. Johnny closed his eyes in an effort not to come so soon from the view alone.

You gave up on your own body for a moment, forgot it was yours to control in the first place, letting it be taken by all their movements like one gets taken by the current at sea.

"'m gonna cum if you keep this up" Johnny announced in a low voice, and you weren't sure if he was talking to you or Simon, but the latter let go of his grip on your hair, unsure of what you wanted to do with that information. You kept going on your own now, until you felt Johnny pulse inside your mouth.

He let out a soft moan as he watched you swallow it. His body finally relaxed on the bed and you felt his fingers search your head and caress your hair.

Simon's movements became slower, almost nonexistent, and you anxiously moved your hips against him to alleviate the desire in your core.

"Don't stop" you begged in a small voice, resting your head on Johnny's thigh, but he did stop. Simon gently pulled your hips back and switched your body so that you were facing him.

"Lay down" he instructed, "I wanna see you".

Johnny's arms guided you to lay on top of him, your back to his chest. He kissed and caressed your head lazily while Simon spread your legs, sinking into you with a grunt.

You moaned loudly when you felt him entirely inside you again.

“Shh!” both of them reprehended you, and Johnny quickly covered your mouth with his hand.

"You wanted him to fuck you like this, huh?" he asked close to your ear and you nodded, unable to speak anything other than little moans that were muffled by his palm. Simon looked at you directly in the eyes, his face subtly contorting in pleasure with every little sound you made.

He pushed into you slowly, delighting himself in the warmth of having you wrapped around him. He tried to memorize the feeling of having your skin against his so he could dwell on it later.

Johnny uncovered your mouth to kiss you, moving his hand to hold you at your waist. The familiar feel of his tongue was both comforting and exciting, your lips searched for his with noticeable hunger. You didn't think you could possibly get more aroused at this point.

You rested your head on Johnny's shoulder, closing your eyes and feeling your body relax now that you've gotten more used to Simon's size inside you.

"Eyes open, love" Simon demanded, and you obeyed.

He kept his gaze on your eyes until he couldn't resist moving on to Johnny's anymore. They looked at each other for what felt like too long, Simon's thrusts into you got more intense, and it made you wonder if you were simply the vessel through which they fucked each other at that instant.

Johnny, who had his hands wandering around your body, now moved them from your breasts to caress Simon's chest on top of you, at first in shy quasi-accidental strokes, and then shamelessly grabbing at his waist, scratching nails on his back once he got a positive reaction.

He pressed his hand against the lower part of your stomach, right where you could feel Simon's cock attempting to tear you open with every thrust, you moaned into Simon's mouth as you felt Johnny getting hard under your body again. Your arousal was dripping down his crotch, his chest already wet from your sweat.

"Hm you're taking him so well, baby" Johnny whispered in your ear and you watched as Simon's eyes darkened at the sound of the words.

You’d lost track of time and sense of space completely. It was so unbelievably indulgent it almost felt wrong, as if you couldn't possibly be allowed to experience this much pleasure all at once in life.

You felt you’d reached some new sense of consciousness in which you did not belong to your body anymore, you've transcended into something else, something in complete harmony with them and their own bodies around you. You were certain for a moment that, if you tried or wanted to, you'd be able to read their minds and communicate without words.

The utter feeling of Love just invaded you in the form of radiating happiness, an epiphany planted in your heart, as if you had been stung by Eros himself and you felt yourself capable of reaching an orgasm without your body. All of a sudden the whole universe seemed to become clear and there were no questions you couldn't answer if you wanted, any doubt you had was gone, and any anxiety dissipated. You almost felt like laughing, relishing - for what was probably the first time - in the wonder of cloudless thoughts.

Simon dropped the support of his hands to his forearms, getting impossibly closer and resting his torso on top of you, the cold and metallic touch of his dog tags against your chest sent a shiver down your spine. Johnny’s hands moved from his waist to your hips, grinding you on top of his hardened cock in search of some relief, which was positioned between your ass cheeks.

You drunkenly intercalated kisses between the two of them, feeling absolutely in control until Simon locked your neck in place with his hand, choking you a little before placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Open” he demanded and you did.

He spit saliva into your mouth and, before you could swallow it, Johnny urgently pulled your face to kiss you, desperately licking your tongue.

"Fuck, Johnny" Simon grunted, digging even deeper into you, attempting to get even closer, making your toes curl. He leaned over and kissed Johnny, and you felt him instantly melt under you. His hands left your body to cup Simon's face.

They moaned into their kisses. You almost felt inadequate being there, as if you weren't supposed to witness that much intimacy, but the thought quickly died down when Simon's lips found yours again, leaving Johnny breathless, and he sealed you back into their little universe.

Your back arched when Johnny moved his fingers to your clit again, you barely needed any stimulation at this point, your legs were tense locked around Simon's hips.

"Come on, baby" Johnny purred in your ear "Let me see you cum all over his cock".

Almost as if on command, you did. The high building up in your lower stomach finally reached its breaking point and crashed into your body in waves of ecstasy. Simon moaned as he felt your entire body pulse and relax under him, he jerked faster into you and then quickly pulled out.

Johnny moved you away from him so that your back rested on the mattress with both of them towering over you, stroking themselves. Simon's eyes rolled back as he came on top of you, a heavy moan leaving his throat as he covered you with the warm gooey liquid that dripped from him.

The sheer sight of it, along with your little moans, was almost enough to get Johnny off immediately, and it only took a few strokes to make him cum again.

You watched them as Simon gently cleaned a bit of his own semen off of Johnny's abdomen with his thumb. He brought the finger close to his face in an offer, and Johnny obediently opened his mouth and sucked it off, receiving a pat on his head and a satisfied smile from his superior afterward.

You laid there exhausted while they cleaned you with tissues, getting little gentle kisses on your skin every once in a while. Simon turned you around on the bed and wiped a soft tissue on your face, removing the remains of mascara you had under your eyes.

It took you a few minutes to eventually get up and use the bathroom, Simon had one all to himself, which meant you didn't have to put your clothes back on.

When you came back, they were both still naked on the bed. Johnny was already asleep, a permanent smile stamped on his face, being only partially covered by the sheets.

"Come here" Simon whispered to you, and you gently climbed over Johnny's body to rest in the space between them.

Johnny sleepily arranged his arms around you, one over your waist and the other under the crease of your neck, his fingers reaching to caress Simon's hair.

Simon kissed your forehead. "This feels nice" he murmured, almost too quietly for you to hear. You looked up to kiss his lips again and rested your head on the pillow, wishing you wouldn't have to get up the next morning.

(now that this is out of my system I can finally move on with my life).

#ghoap x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x soap #soap x reader #cod x reader #cod one shot #ghostsoap

[trashlie]

it's good to see you around again, I missed reading your long ILY posts, hope you're doing better too :) if you ever share your thoughts on the latest couple of episodes (including fp) here, I'd be super excited to read them! I'm really curious how you think the timeline is gonna go from here - especially relating to Shin-Ae and Nolan since it feels like they are the last pieces that need to fall into place so everything is ready for the post-timeskip story to go down. like you, I was so sure Nol and Shin-Ae were going to have some kind of reconciliation before he goes to jail but WELP rip 3 day extension. Poor guy though, Yui showing up in his hospital room must have been extremely triggering, it made sense that he did everything to get outta there ASAP. It's worrying me that this series of negative interactions (Kousuke, Alyssa, Yui) could've undone everything positive Shin-Ae Dieter Soushi Nana did, and now therapy during jail time could either have a positive or negative effect, so Nol is a Schroedinger's cat for now.... At least some things got cleared up and Shin-Ae is now starting to understand the root of the problem (= Yui) (and it actually really makes sense that she had to figure it out herself instead of Nol telling her - the boy obviously isn't ready to talk) so we made some progress.... But istg with this upcoming separation arc 2.0 it feels so much like we're gonna be back at ground zero after the first time skip. Fingers crossed they reconcile in whatever way before the big time skip though. we need a somewhat positive conclusion to this arc before season 1 ends, because if not then what was all this build up for, and why now? What about the realizations? the "convince me"? What about "if you won't let me have you"? If their reconciliation is only going to happen after multiple years of "conflict" between them that would be so cruel....

AND SHIN-AE STILL HASN'T GOTTEN HER BANDANA BACK and now he's stealing her lines too SDGDADSF;SDF

Waaaahhhhh thank you, friend!!! As you can probably tell, I'm still trying to get myself back here fully and figure out how to balance everything, which has always been a struggle ;~; I really may resort to telling my friends to ignore me and yell at me until I get certain posts written up so I'll stop procrastinating because there are SO MANY THINGS I WANT TO WRITE ABOUT EPISODES I WANT TO RECAP AND TALK ABOUT!!!! BUT THE ORGANIZING MYSELF!!!! IS THE PART THAT'S SO DIFFICULT!!!!!!!!

One of the great things about the ILY discord server is that we have this very constant, active conversation going on at all times so it's SO easy to be very present and active, but I also find that it means it's more difficult for me to regulate myself, or I'll have that feeling that I JUST talked about something and so when I try to write about it over here, it feels like a hollow echo and I know that's just because I was just having the conversation so that's just something I need to work on dealing with lol

But I want to answer this before we move so far away from when you asked this!!!!! As expected, there are FP spoilers ahead for eps 246 through 249!!!!!

I!!!! DO NOT KNOW!!!!!!! LMAO Like. GOD. I feel like quimchee has thrown us curveball after curveball and when we sit down and think about how long this period of December 21 and the post December 21 arc has been, how much the story has weaved around?! There are so many things that have occurred that I NEVER expected and, like you, it's just everything I thought has clearly gone out the window. Part of it, I think, is the result of quimchee having to change the arrangement of her story, and god I would love to pick her brain about the things that changed, since Nol's injury was supposed to happen at the formal itself, we never would have had this extended period of hospital time, and it seems like everything about Nol and Shinae coming to realization with their feelings would have played out in a wholly different way than what we ended up getting, so on some level I think this is partly that quimchee, too, is sort of throwing herself cureveballs in that there are things she knows needs to happen and she isn't sure where or how to fit the other elements in? But that's just my guess.

On the one hand, I do feel very "WHAT WAS THE EXTENSION FOR IF NOT FOR RECONCILIATION?!" but beyond Stalkyoo, we have gotten a LOT of good stuff out of this period of time. We see Kousuke facing his cognitive dissonance for, perhaps, the first time, and the revelation that Yui has been drugging him (and likely for a long time, given the way Hansuke describe the dosage Kousuke had and that it merely knocked him out), and more than that, making those connections between Nol and Yui and tea, and wanting to face him. I'm STILL proud of him for wanting to go back and see Nol again, even after he couldn't face him, even after Hansuke found him on the floor of a public bathroom hugging a toilet from the remorse and guilt and perhaps shame of the realization of the ways he has hurt people - has hurt Nol! - who didn't deserve it. We have seen that Rand and Yujing are, in fact, working on something behind the scenes, that Rand is facing Yui as a real adversary now, not just someone who has been resigned to endure her for so many years now, but to actually fight against her. The entirety of Nol's birthday celebration could not have happened the way it did had he not been in the hospital, since he would have had to turn himself in, and while maybe the original plan was that they celebrated his birthday with Minhyuk's coming home party, I'm.... not sure if that would have been the case?

But at at any rate, I do acknowledge that despite the fact that it feels like Nol might be back at square one, that he and Shinae are back where they started in 151, such significant events HAVE taken place that I think will still affect the narrative future of ILY. I still feel strongly that part of Nol's trajectory is coming to terms with the fact that he does, indeed, belong here. That he isn't someone who wasn't meant to be, that he doesn't belong here. He belongs, and he deserves love. He is someone, not nothing. I still think one of his greater arcs will involve coming to embrace this, and while the negative events - Kousuke, Alyssa, Yui - feel like they could be setting him back, he is now equipped with knowledge and feelings he wasn't before. It can't hurt him the same. In fact, I think part of why his confrontation with Alyssa went the way it did was because he had had this experience with Shinae, Dieter, and Soushi, it illuminated everything that was so wrong with his relationship with Alyssa, how neither of them really know each other. It's that sense of foiling that allows him to put his foot down and say enough is enough. Even before it was revealed that Alyssa had come with Yui, it was clear that Nol was over the visit. Don't get me wrong - I understand why he couldn't see that Alyssa clearly was not well, that she was uncomfortable, that she had come to him with no one else to go to, much as he'd gone to Kousuke in the past when he lost his mom, and I also understand why he did the same thing Kousuke did and turned her away. But the point I'm getting at is, it feels like there was a shift. That birthday celebration illuminated something for Nol.

So it's kind of like, while it feels like this might have undone the progress Nol made, it can't undone the revelations he's had, and in that same way, it cannot cast shadow on his enlightenment. He is not the same Nol he was a week ago. Too much has changed, he's become aware of too much, and as such, he is going to respond differently to what comes his way, and while he may continue to try what he had originally intended, I think the difference is that he's now been made aware of things that impact the choices he makes.

But largely I don't really know what I expect just yet. I think it's very pointed that the lawyer reminded Shinae that she has his phone number; I don't think that would be called out if it wasn't going to be important in some way, but in terms of how are we going from here to there? Unsure lol. I think there HAS to be a resolution of some kind, whether it's a reconciliation or not, because Shinae is on this momentum swing that isn't going to stop until she crashes into something or she comes into a force of nature that stops her. Nothing, no one, has been able to reach her or get through to her, and I know it's just because of how much she's hurting, but she's lashing out at people and hurting THEM like a street cat swiping at people trying to help her. She's so terrified of losing Nol, especially now that he came back, especially now that she gave him the option to leave and he didn't and it rekindled that hope she gave him an opening to leave when it would have been easier and he didn't which just made it worse, because so much more was at stake. She can't stop fighting she can't stop trying because she cannot bear what it means to lose him for real this time, not when she finally had him back, not when that realization has come to her even if she won't admit it. She needs him, so what's going to make her give up?

Something has to transpire, whether it's a reconciliation or Nol pushing her away and really shattering her heart or something awful like that, to bring her to a halt, because I can't imagine how we would move into our mini time skip to spring/graduation with Shinae like this, right? So I think there must be some kind of resolution. My foolish, hopeless self wants so badly to hope for reconciliation but esp after 249 I am SO torn. I have two thoughts.

a. they reconcile. She can reach him, and convince him, and even though he is so afraid, he is also someone who folds in front of her, he struggles to resist her. He told her to convince him and boy she can convince him and even though he tells himself he isn't sure if these feelings are real because what if it's just because she's NICE to him I think hearing her confess her feelings would tell him how he feels and give him the answer.

b. But the alternative feels like a parallel to Nessa and Rand, because Nessa, too, was hurt over and over by someone who kept getting her hopes up and getting hurt by him. Shinae gave Nol the opportunity to leave and he didn't, he stayed and doing so sparked her hope, made her feel things, they shared these tender, intimate moments together and forced that realization to come to mind, but for him to push her away again, for her safety, to make choices on her behalf even though she's told him she hates that and she doesn't want him to. Imagine her pulling a Nessa and calling him scum lfkjajkfkjfjkfaj ;A;!!!!! Imagine her so angry and hurt and resentful and saying awful things she doesn't mean and GOD I feel like it can go only one of these ways because what ELSE is going to stop her in her tracks?!

And I really want a reconciliation because parting like this sets them up for SO. MUCH. STRIFE. Because we know one way or another Shinae is going to end up taking Yui's offer and if Nol leaves on these terms, he would end up thinking she's following in Alyssa's footsteps doing so, not understanding WHY she's doing, not understanding that this is Shinae's only way of protecting herself, learning to speak Yui's language and play her game.

and idk I know I'm a hopeful optimist reading a webtoon that proves to me over and over that I cannot be a hopeful optimist but LMAO GOD I WANT SHINAE TO CONVINCE THAT DUMBO

I've said it before that convincing him doesn't mean they have to get into a relationship. Just. Reconcile. She's so afraid of LOSING HIM, thinking that once he slips away he's out of her grasp, her sight, for good, that she will lose the best thing that happened to her and I WANT THAT RECONCILATION. I want her to convince him, for both their sakes. So that he knows he has someone he can go back to. So that she knows he's not just throwing her away. So that she doesn't have to fear losing something so precious and important.

Am I foolish and hopeful for hoping for that outcome? Maybe, but it won't stop me LMAO because as delicious and angsty as Shinae and Nol following in Ressa's footsteps with Nol hurting her again and leaving her so hurt and angry is, I want to see them on that same page. I want to see Shinae convince him - convince him why he is so important to her, and that his feelings are real. That's the thing, right, like.... you can tell yourself that your feelings aren't real, but if the person you like confesses to you, your heart will inevitably betray you and respond to the confession. Nol fears for Shinae's safety but important puzzle pieces are falling into place. She has figured what he fears the most - and if she thinks hard enough she'll realize how she can use that to her "advantage", in that Rand has told her Yui will never let her go, that it doesn't matter if Nol leaves or not. It goes back to my oft repeated sentiment of them needing to be on the same page, to be a team, because his absence will not protect her. And between what Rand told her, plus her anecdotes about Kousuke's birthday and how Yui treated her even before the formal, and what Yujing told Nol about Kousuke being drugged by Yui, maybe, just MAYBE that conclusion that wasn't only him all along will finally hit him. I know he can't change over night, that he has so many deeply ingrained fears that won't be easily assuaged, but I have to hope that a confession from Shinae can convince him that the alternative is worse. Convince him to fight along side her ;A;

I go back and forth on this thought but I think this is strongly what I feel right now. That reconciliation could still be around the corner, even if it's just an admission and a promise to not push her away. Shinae is tired of people acting on her behalf, tired of not getting a say, and especially in something that involves her heart, her feelings?

Go fight girl and maybe bite him if that's what it takes ;A;

STEALING HER BANDANA. HER LINES. HERT HEART. THIS MAN DESERVES TO BE LOCKED AWAY

ALFJLFJLFKJLAFKJLKFJALKFJ

#I Love Yoo #ILY Brainrot #ILY Ask #ILY Spoilers #ILY FP #Shinae Yoo #Nolan Oliver T. Lochlainn #Stalkyoo #Aegi #oh you know just me wailing into the night about stalkyoo nbd alkfjjkafjkafjkajfkajfjaf lmao #I PLANNED TO ANSWER THIS AND BE CHILL BUT I DON'T HAVE CHILL and then when i was wailing about Shinae giving Nol the chance to leave and ho #part of why she is so desperate is she can't lose him again not when she almost did not when he came back not when she gave him the chance #to leave and he chose to stay and saw the parallel to Nessa and Rand and it was just ALL DOWNHILL FROM THERE LMAO #AGONY #ANGUISH #PLS PLS PLS LET ME GET WHAT I WANT #lmao #plssssssssssssssssssssss #can you imagine how awful it would be if they didn't reconcile until post time skip?! #jesus christ HOW do you even reconcile after that?! #HOWLS FOREVER

[doomsday-dj]

Hello! So as you (hopefully) know I am a huge fan of your work & I have been working my way through all your fics on ao3 - which has just been an absolute delight. This is gonna be a bit tangential, because I am a very long-winded human, but I've been meaning to ask (if you don't mind sharing) what led you to the decision to leave academia?

I intended to take a Gap Year which has now led to a 4-year break, and I'm really hesitant to return to that world. My undergrad had an Honors Program that allowed me to work throughout my 4 years to complete a thesis project, and while that was an awesome experience, hindsight has led me to a lot of conclusions about elitism and the looking-down upon/ gatekeeping that is so present in those circles. It's really just turned me off to the idea of trying to re-integrate myself into that world, which is something I've been weighing as of late.

So, in your experience, did you find that academia just stopped filling your cup, or did you have a particular experience that led you to take a step away?

I just adore your writing style, and may leave you a comment one day just going off about how much I adore your prose and sentence structure, but I really feel that tug to fan fiction where it's almost a compulsion instead of a decision that you described with Rizzles. So, yeah lol- I hope the question isn't too rambley? Just very curious to know your thoughts.

I definitely know you're a fan but if I say it's unclear will you tell me more flattering things? Just kidding... Unless? No, but really, thank you. It's really just super fucking special to hear it every time. Thank you for loving my prose and sentence structure. :)

As to your question, I was reading it like, "you seek to know…...about ME?" I think this is my first non-fan fiction ask. So I have a BAH and an MA in a humanities discipline that shall remain nameless. I spent four years seriously pursuing a PhD and an additional year just going through the motions and bleeding the remainder of my funding dry. I wrote a draft of a dissertation that my very accomplished advisor was mostly disappointed with. The reasons why I left academia are actually many. Buckle up. It's important to mention that I was in academia not just to get a PhD but with the intention of then teaching in my discipline, so a huge reason was the lack of jobs, particularly if I wasn't willing to relocate to any dumb town in North America that might offer me a tenure track job. My wife's career is such that there's only a few cities she can work in, so one of us was going to have to make a change. She already had a career so it made sense for me to be the one to reroute. Importantly, I also had virtually no desire to live in the USA, and that's likely where I would have ended up. Another reason is that I am a terrible procrastinator and living my life with something ALWAYS looming over my head was slowly killing me. There was always something that I should have been working on. My whole life was being lulled into a tenuous relaxation and being jolted out of it by all the things that I had to do. I now work in a job where, for the most part, I leave it all there when I go home and am able to actually relax. Here's a big one: I didn't really love it. Not the supposed "real" work, anyway: writing papers to submit to journals and writing books that you will then force your students to buy which will represent the entirety of your profit from writing the book. I did genuinely, truly love teaching. I don't know if you can tell from the way I'll talk for fucking ever (LIKE RIGHT NOW), but I love being the smartest person in a room and I loved explaining concepts to students and watching them clue in. I loved luring them into my word traps like fucking Socrates and then blowing their minds. I really really really did love that part, and I was very good at that part. But you know what? In my discipline, people mostly think that part is incidental. The glory comes from getting into journals and writing books and giving keynote speeches at conferences and writing snarky objections to other people's work. Teaching is the thing you do in between that to pass the time. I hated that. This speaks to your concern about the elitism and it's a very real thing.

Also, because I liked teaching and because I cared about my students, I started to feel like I was part of a multi-level marketing scheme: in order for me to have a job I needed students to keep paying out their fucking asses to go to university and get saddled with debt for a degree that wouldn't really help them much. I struggled a lot with students who would come to my office hours, unable to get the material because they really shouldn't have been in university but felt pressured to be, or overworked because they had a full-time job on the side, or devastated because the university was throwing all kinds of arbitrary and stupid road blocks up for no other reason than to make this a Thing That Is Hard To Do, and it was really weighing on me, morally.

Finally, writing a dissertation is just really fucking hard, and I had the kind of project where I was dealing with a moving target. I had really keyed into the zeitgeist of my tiny corner of the discipline and I was working on an idea that was really exciting and a lot of people were all suddenly working on the same idea which meant that every fucking month it felt like a book or an article was coming out that scooped my whole damn project. I kept having to change what I was ultimately trying to accomplish because someone would go ahead and publish something where they did what I had initially set out to prove. And because I didn't love it enough, it grew too exhausting, and so I dropped out. Honestly, there's so much more that I could say. But I think those are the pillars of the decision to drop out. If you ever want to talk more about your own decision, feel free to message me. I'm always happy to talk to someone who is trying to figure out if the academic life is for them. Just edited to quickly add something crucial: I loved doing my MA. It was a fantastic experience, I had a truly great time doing it. I also loved all my PhD coursework. I loved going to class. It was once all that was over that I fell out with academia.

#ask doomsday #about real life things! #god I didn't even touch on department politics and what a fucking mess that is

[sweetsungie]

the silence between two special songs | h.j | part 3

pairing: souncloud! jisung x reader (ft. dancer! hyunjin)

genre: college au, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst, mature content, fwb, mutual pining, unrequited love, rapper jisung, english major reader

series: the silence between two special songs

word count: 20k

warnings: cursing, fluff, lotssss of angst, drinking, making out, jealousy, protected sex, oral (f. receiving), pet names, sad love story, y/n is oblivious and makes you want to just (!!), hyunjin playboy era?? 

synopsis:

falling in love with someone was one of the best and worst things a person could do. you'd remember the first time your heart skipped a beat at the sound of their voice and how perfectly their lips fit into yours. you'd remember how they encapsulated every single fiber being within you that you could no longer breathe when you were around them; likewise, you didn't want to.

you'd remember all the good things about them.

but then you'd remember the first time it ached knowing that they cared about you, but not enough. how they loved you, but not the way you wanted them to.

not the way you wanted hyunjin to.

and not the way jisung wanted you to.

•°. *࿐

a/n: bye i’m sorry this came out so late… i procrastinated so much it’s embarrassing!!!! anyways i hope you guys still enjoy this chapter, things get a little sad and steamy and ugh i just wish the best for our hanji <3 also!! pls listen to the series playlist as well for ultimate feels :)

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

comment to be a part of the taglist <3

masterlist

series playlist

JISUNG’S INTERLUDE:

“I've held back for so long, I don't think I can do this…

I pulled together my courage and took another step toward you, just this one step was too hard. It took me a while to do it even after making up my mind.

Did I take too long? Did it all fall back on me because the timing wasn't right? 

What I did hoping to get closer to you is what built up this wall that's keeping me from you. 

It's ridiculous.

I hate myself, I hate you. I don't know who to blame, so all I'm left with is a grudge. 

I tried to break down that wall, but all that broke was my own heart. I tried to pull my heart together and lost something more important—You.

I’m sorry, I love you.”

Your bedroom felt warm, but it was cold outside. You could tell because of the foggy windows. 

You thought about it for a minute. There were things you knew but couldn't feel and there were things you could feel but didn't know how to explain. How did you get to this point?

The days did not seem special anymore: summer’s refusal to perform brought about the mischief of winter and this meticulous aftertaste was something that you had to grow to accept.

“But you loved the percussion of the summer breeze: the searing golden hues, and the warm underfoot.” The season had all the hallmarks of two lovers fighting under the glare of a subdued sun, winding up nature's orchestra into a barren landscape, just because it was fitting to do so. 

And well, no season before had ever stopped them, not spring, winter, or fall.

That was all over now, and it was only after meeting the rock that crashed through your window, you realized how love can disintegrate at a different rate from when it did implode.

felix: sorry i’m late! i’m outside :D

Earlier in the week, you had fallen with a light cold preventing you from attending class or any other place that was open to interacting with people. 

It wasn’t anything serious so by today you woke up completely healed, meaning you were able to continue life as normal. But if you were being honest, you skipped all your classes again and planned on skipping practice too, noting to come up with a lame excuse later for Minho.

And your plan was going as planned, you’d even ordered some food from your favorite restaurant. Despite your limited human interaction throughout this break, you thoroughly enjoyed your alone time. 

That was… until Felix begged you to go to practice. 

Now, as someone as resilient as you, even you could admit that it was always hard to refuse Felix. He was always just so bright and cheerful, just about everything you wanted to be. So how could you ever say no?

You attempted to bring up Hyunjin as a possible candidate to accompany him, but you were quick to remember that he had gone home for break already, which meant you needed to suck it up and go yourself.

You slipped on your shoes and grabbed your bag, making your way outside. Gosh, it was really cold today. 

The wind was blowing, making it much colder than it was supposed to be. Maybe you really should’ve skipped practice. It would've been much easier than hitchhiking through campus in the dry cold. 

You hoped Felix’s happiness would be worth it in the end.

Tracing the courtyard, you spotted him… but then, your eyes traveled even further until they found Hyunjin. What was he doing here? Now you really wished you skipped practice. 

Although you were feeling better with a hearty immune system, you still felt like a complete mess, and probably looked like one too.

But there he was, his hands shoved in the pockets of his puffer, beanie on, as he laughed at whatever Felix said. He looked beautiful without even trying.

“Y/N! Over here!” Felix called out once seeing you. 

You see, you didn't expect anybody else to tag along with the both of you—especially not Hyunjin. He was supposed to be going home for break earlier than the rest of you, spending time with his family—well this was according to what he told you sometime last week. 

Maybe something had come up. You really wouldn't have known, you barely spoke to him all week to even have a clue.

Walking over to the boys, you waved, “Hey.” 

Your eyes fell on Hyunjin briefly, and he greeted you with a smile that suddenly went against the cold wind that hit your face. This past week had been awfully hard. You couldn't see him or touch him—or quite literally do anything you wanted to do. 

Sure, both you and Hyunjin had texted a few times throughout, but it quickly died down once you both realized that there just wasn't anything to talk about. The day went on, just as did every other day and the hours ticked by as the shades of the sky grew darker.

So when you saw Hyunjin and saw that all he did was smile and wave, you frowned to yourself. 

Of course, you both weren't together—you knew that. In fact, you hadn't even discussed the kiss. He hadn't brought it up and you were too afraid that you would've ended up confessing quite literally everything you felt, scaring him away. 

But somehow you still hoped he’d be more excited to see you.

Felix's voice invaded your thoughts. “Let’s go before we’re late.” 

The three of you began your walk toward the dance studio, fueling yourselves with conversations about anything and everything you could think of. Felix was great at talking, leading, and guiding, it reminded you of how much you missed hanging out with him.

You were surprised he was able to make it to practice today to begin with. He’d been getting busier with theatre so you didn’t have the opportunity to see him that much. You could count the number of times he actually showed up to the dance studio.

Felix’s phone rang and he answered it, separating himself from the current conversation about what your winter break plans were. Soon after he did so, Hyunjin glanced over at you waiting for you to continue.

“I don't really have anything planned,” you confessed. “I’m probably going to just read and watch movies—I don't know… Not really interesting.” You felt utterly and completely boring.

Hyunjin always spoke to you gently, “Reading and watching movies sounds perfectly interesting to me, Y/N.” You couldn't help but focus on your heartbeat that suddenly grew, beating—no, pounding twice as fast. He proceeded to talk about what he had planned with his family once he went back home later this week. 

His existence seemed to be full of life and passion when he spoke, and you couldn't help but feel envious of it. You wished that could be you too.

“Are you feeling better?” He continued to shatter your expectations by being kind and compassionate. 

Suddenly, you had to shy away from the emotions in his gaze, because your heart was already a tight fist in your chest. It was constricting it so much that it was like you were wearing a corset. 

You couldn't breathe under the heaviness of his gaze.

The world needed people like him. People who cared, who: allowed vulnerability into their lives, who didn't run at the first sign of complexity, who invested time and effort into what they wanted, who were tolerant and open-minded, welcoming and caring. People who were soft with a fierce heart. The world needed him. 

Everyone hoped to be him.

Felix had somehow managed to create distance between the both of you, still lost within his own conversation with whoever it was on the other line.

You swallowed, “Yeah, all better now.” He nodded to himself, happy to hear that your cold had subsided. 

A few moments passed before he spoke again, accidentally cutting you off.

“I’m sorry!” He laughed, apologizing. He had the most beautiful eyes and couldn't remember not ever looking at them when you were with him. The gold specks in them deepened when he laughed and when he looked at you they just shined.

You waved a hand, “No, it's okay! What were you going to say?”

A smile never left his face, “It’s just that I heard that there was something going on at Chan’s and Changbin’s before break. Monday, I think?”

Your hands accidentally brushed against his as you both continued to walk, and you felt like you were alive again by simple contact. “Oh, I didn't hear about it…”

His eyebrows rose, surprised. “I thought Jisung would've told you,” he stated, flickering his eyes down at your innocent hands for a second before holding it gently. “Sorry, your hand must be freezing.”

No... Your mind was busy running around, doing laps and laps. His hand was soft, too warm and you wanted to stay here forever. “Are you going?” You mustered to ask.

You were falling to pieces by his touch. Your fists were full of unlucky pennies and your heart was a jukebox demanding a few nickels. Your head was flipping quarters, heads or tails, heads or tails, heads or tails, heads or tails.

He nodded and you raised an eyebrow, confused. “I thought you were going home early?” You questioned.

“I decided to leave on Tuesday.”

“So you’re not going home now because of a party?” You clarified, your tone accidentally coming out to be much more belittling than you intended. 

He thought about it for a few moments, awkwardly laughing. “It sounds bad when you say it like that…” He was having a hard time trying to express himself in a way that didn't make it seem like he was just throwing his family time under the bus for some stupid, lame party.

For him, he found this party to be a perfect time to rekindle his friendships. The semester was almost finished but he found himself still struggling to find his place within a group. 

Before coming back, he knew that it was going to be different—an entire year had passed. People changed, lives developed, and things just weren't the same anymore. He knew that.

But, Hyunjin never expected it to take this long.

You quickly shook your head, not wanting him to misunderstand. “I didn't mean it like that, Jinnie! It’s just… it doesn't seem like you, that's all.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Of course not! I—” You stopped yourself, not wanting to dig yourself deeper in the hole you were already in. It was his decision, he could do whatever he wanted. It really didn't concern you. 

"You know your voice can literally make flowers grow," you stated, taking out an earbud. 

It was a Sunday evening and you were lying sprawled out on Jisung’s bed. To your surprise, the weekend consisted of nothing of substance and you remembered what that felt like after weeks to be utterly plan-less as if you hadn't dealt with it constantly before.

You felt crazy. Part of you hoped that on Friday, Hyunjin would have asked you to hang out this weekend, and when he didn't, you assumed in him asking you Saturday. Pitifully so, you spent the entire day in your empty apartment, your roommates coming in and out whenever they pleased. 

The realization that you were being quite pathetic didn't hit you until you woke up from your nap on the couch, to the sound of Jisung walking in at three in the morning. And it wasn't until you laid your head against your satin pillowcase later that night you classified yourself as insane. 

If Hyunjin texted you to see him in the middle of the night, you would’ve ran—no matter the hour. To you, anything last minute was never last minute with him.

But by the next morning, you’d figured that it would be best to stop moping around and actually get some work done. You had wasted away all weekend that even thinking of falling into the habit again made you grow sick. Self-restraint was hard but it was necessary. 

So instead of waiting for a text or call, you trapped yourself in Jisung’s room forcing yourself to not think of anything considered Hwang Hyunjin—and it worked. It worked until you realized the book he had given you was in your hands in the process of being read. In fact, you had been reading it all day. Maybe there truly was no escape. 

Although you spent most of your day in your best friend’s room, reading the now-forbidden book, Jisung’s presence was a great distraction from the constant reminders. 

He was busy himself. His headphones were on and his laptop was open, displaying his usual applications. His eyes were glued onto his screen as he worked on a song, full-focus. Yet, still, he never failed to keep up with conversation whenever you wanted.

In fact, he love the way you’d lie in his bed reading your book, unbothered and forgetting you’d spoken to him. You’d shoo him away because you hit a good part. He’d brush off your gruff attitude with a smile and continue his work.

“Oh, shut up.” Jisung’s cheeks turned into a brighter shade of pink. He shook his head humbly and retrieved the earbud from your hand. 

You playfully rolled your eyes, “I’ll never ever shut up, Sungie.” Both of you knew it was the truth. It just wasn't plausible.

"You really must have liked it then, huh?" He laughed, unscrewing the cap of his water bottle to take a sip. His throat suddenly fell dry at your compliment.

You nodded almost a million times and he found you to be so incredibly adorable doing so. It took a lot for him to not grab you and pull you closer. 

He had only shown you only a snippet, roughly about fifteen seconds, of the ballad he was working on. And although it wasn't done, he spent a lot of time on the track—more than he expected; he struggled to keep his creativity flowing due to how cloudy his mind had gotten recently.

You were definitely to blame for that. But when your compliments left your mouth like the symphony he never knew he craved, he could've sworn he had perfect pitch. It made no sense to fault you. In fact, he would've taken all responsibility over and over again before you could.

Practicing his self-restraint like always, he opted in fiddling with the faded Rubix cube on his desk. He was growing to become restless. "Good, because you're my girl. I want you to genuinely like it." 

You studied him for a few moments suspiciously, an amused smile growing on your lips. His tone seemed much more serious than he had intended and it caught you off guard.

He felt your stare and briefly looked up. “Stop, you are starting to make me self-conscious over how I speak.” 

Shrugging, you shook your head. “Don't be. It's cute in a way.” He felt blood rush through his cheeks. Was that a bad thing? You noticed his sudden fluster and scoffed lightheartedly, “Relax Sungie. It’s a good look on you.” 

“It's cute, you say…" He set the Rubix cube down and closed his laptop to join you on his bed. He leaned closer to you, and you pushed him to the side, making a face at him.

"Oh, don't pretend as if you haven't ever been told that you're cute.”

He had been sitting at his desk for hours upon hours and all he wanted to do was stretch all his limbs and muscles out—and that’s what he did. With a satisfying groan, he finished. "No, never," he lied, pleased by the direction of the conversation.

You suppressed a giggle, “You’re so stupid.” He leaned in again, this time to place his head on your open lap. You didn't push him away this time around.

"No, I’m so cute," he teased, grinning. The hands that formerly held your forbidden book now began to play with his hair. “...and so fucking tired.” He closed his eyes, instantly feeling encapsulated by the warmth of your touch. 

One thing he’d never get tired of besides your face was how your fingers moved.

"Who told you to write a song until three a.m. in the morning?" You pondered for a moment although already knowing the answer, "Oh wait. You did."

“Trust me, one look at you made me realize that I'd spend far too much time trying to write a song as beautiful as you.” He lay silent, eyes still closed. It was best he didn't continue in that direction.

He sighed, unknowingly, against your thigh. Feelings never did make sense. They’d get you all confused, then they drive you around for hours before they drop you right back where you started. 

Beginning to trace small circles on your bare skin, he decided to change the subject. "How's the book going along?"

“It’s… going.”

He opened an eye, quizically. “What does that mean?”

You shrugged, unable to correctly express your feelings. How you constantly thought about Hyunjin this weekend because you missed him. You had seen him on Friday but still, you missed his laugh, his eyes, his touch, his lips. You missed quite literally everything.

“I’m not too sure,” you answered quietly as shame washed over you.

He tutted, “You see? I knew I hated that book for a reason.” He closed his eyes once more. “It’s best you stop reading—Fuck Y/N, you’re about to make me pass out, seriously.” Peaceful bliss washed over him as you continued to run your fingers through his hair.

You laughed and halted your actions which made him groan needly. “The book itself is fine Jisung. It’s just…”

Concluding that you weren't going to continue the head rubs, he turned his head over to properly look at you. “Is it Hyunjin?” He sighed concerningly.

“I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about him.” You frowned at your words, unable to fully believe that you were telling the truth yourself. 

Frankly, Jisung was confused as hell. Not sure why you wanted to avoid the boy that you absolutely adored and loved. “And why would you want to do that?”

Words just didn't make sense to you anymore. “I don't know. He's just... I don't know. I don’t think he’s thinking of me like I do.”

At that moment, Jisung wanted to exclaim, “Hi, hello! Yes, I’m here! I may not be the tall boy with the long hair and pretty face, but I thought about you every fucking day. Does that count?”

Because it was true, he thought about you every single day. 

Everything he did always traced back to you. Scrolling through his feed, "Wow she would love that" or seeing a place so familiar that it reminded him of you. Both funny and sentimental. It was such a bittersweet feeling. It was strange being able to love someone who cared for him so little in the way he wanted. 

He wondered if you thought the way he did. Of course not about him, but about Hyunjin. Jisung wasn't naive enough anymore to think he could ever be a part of the equation. 

He was just curious—curious to know if the reminders and happy memories that raced through your mind every time you saw Hyunjin’s face or heard his endearing voice, affected you the same way you affected him. 

Had you wondered if what the both of you had together was real, too? Was it something to you at all? Did you feel what he felt? Or was he the only one thinking somehow that you and he would last a lifetime in the end?

Maybe you didn't think that way with Hyunjin, or maybe you did. He honestly didn't know and he didn't want to bother himself to learn. 

All Jisung knew was that he was jealous of the way you weren't thinking this way with him.

“We can stop talking about it, you know?” You spoke up breaking the silence that stilled in the room. Jisung’s eyes grew bigger, puzzled on where you were headed with the conversation. “I can tell when you're uncomfortable. I mean… I get it, Ji. I never spoke to you about my ‘boy problems’ before so please tell me when to stop. This is all new to me, so I can’t really tell.”

You were just so damn perfect. Everything about you was perfect. You knew him better than anyone else. You knew when he was sad or annoyed and how to cheer him up—and you always managed to cheer him up. You’d always write him paragraphs just because you wanted to and because well, with writing skills like yours, you were so good at it. 

“No, no. It’s okay. Please don’t stop.”

It couldn't get any more perfect than that. Waking up to a text bright and early in the morning when you were just sleeping next door. 

You weren't sure if you believed him. “Are you sure?”

And it would’ve continued to feel amazing if the person Jisung loved more than anything in the world loved him back. It would’ve been the best feeling in the world.

He nodded, “Yes. So please, tell me more.” No matter how he felt, he still wanted you to speak freely—unapologetically. What he was dealing with was his own issue, not yours.  

Was he in love with you again? He guessed he’d never really know for sure. He just knew he was beginning to feel things he’d worked so hard to put past him. The kind of wrenching feeling that he fought so hard to ignore, it just tore at his heart. 

But Jisung knew that he didn't own you, and perhaps he never will. So his sadness when you spoke about the boy you loved—he had no right to feel. He knew that you didn't owe him anything, and he shouldn't ask for more; he shouldn't feel so let down. 

So he spent the next few hours sprawled out on his bed with open arms, listening to your insecurities and doubts. How everything started, how it was going, quite literally everything you needed to get off your chest—you did.

“Maybe I should just let him go." You held the pillow closer to your chest. 

"Then do it. Leave him."

You looked up at your friend, frowning. "It’s easier said than done. I just feel like if I do I won't ever be this close to anyone again." A few moments passed, "You have to understand, I put so much into our friendship hoping for more. I poured so much into him, gave him so much..." You trailed off.

Jisung tilted your chin up to meet his, “Exactly. You love him with a love that absolutely consumed you and he still doesn't seem to put you first." 

And it wasn't until the clock hit eleven at night that you realized that you were probably overreacting. 

Jisung had given you advice, more biased towards his own feelings, but regardless you didn't take it. Seemingly enough, you had spent yet another day thinking about Hyunjin except you had dragged your friend down the rabbit hole with you.

“You really should’ve told me to shut up!” You groaned, rolling your eyes at how much you rambled and word-vomited for hours. “Now I wasted our entire night.”

No, he was right there, and he wanted to listen. Whenever you were sad, he wanted to hear why. He wanted to know what you were feeling, all the time, so he could share those feelings with you.

Jisung chuckled, giving you a soft smile. “It’s alright. I didn't have anything planned anyways.” Except for the fact that he needed to be at Chan and Changbin’s almost two hours ago. Surely, they understood Jisung’s situation though as he sent them a bullshit, yet believable excuse. 

Sighing, you snuggled your head against him to get more comfortable. “How did we get so boring? I feel like we’re thirty with a nine-to-five.”

“People with nine-to-five don't rot on their beds for this long, Y/N.” He laughed loudly, “But I agree. I guess it’s ‘cause nothing is exciting anymore.”

“Hm, that's probably the reason,” you wondered to yourself. “I guess we should probably make it exciting then, huh?” A sly smirk formed on your lips.

He looked at you slightly confused for a few moments before he understood the direction you were headed in. 

“Sleepover?” The both of you said it in unison and laughed immediately after. 

Let’s just say he owed you a soda after the jinx contest.

Jisung’s head was propped in his hand, his elbow, body angled toward you. The light from the TV screen in his room just barely caught his eyes, drawing liquidy slivers of color in them.

He rolled his eyes, "Fine, I take it back. I love his character. Does that make you happy?" 

You maneuvered onto your side, facing him, and nodded with a ridiculous grin. "It makes me very happy, Sungie.”

His knee bumped yours. You bumped his back.

A shadow of a smile passed over his serious face; there and gone so fast you might've imagined it. "Good," he said.

The both of you stayed like that for a long time, watching the movie from an angle where neither of you could possibly see more than half the screen, your knees pressed into one another.

Whenever one of you rearranged, the other followed. Whenever one of you could no longer bear the discomfort of one position, you both shifted. But you both never stopped touching, and Jisung believed he was in dangerous territory.

It was nearly two in the morning before both of you realized that it was inevitably time to call it a night and go to bed.

Although the both of you were film junkies and often tended to have binge parties with each other on a normal occurrence, it was rare to have sleepovers nowadays—especially when your rooms were right beside each other. There just didn't seem to be a point in them anymore.

The last time you remembered having one was when you two moved into your apartment sophomore year. Before that, you nearly had them every weekend. You’d never forget the unexpected sleepovers in high school where Jisung would always run back home across the street to quickly grab his toothbrush. 

It was strange how your childhood sort of felt like forever. Then suddenly you both were sixteen and the world became an hourglass, and you're watching the sand pile up at the wrong end. 

“We really, really need to sleep,” Jisung yawned. His tired eyes were evident in showing the lack of sleep he had been getting this past week. You agreed and stood up, causing him to watch you, “Oh, are you not spending the night?” 

He wanted you to stay.

“I’ll be back. Just gonna use the bathroom.”

The apartment looked abandoned, so dark and quiet. It made sense for the hour. Minho was surely in the middle of his rem cycle, peacefully asleep. You wished you took care of yourself half as well as Minho took care of himself. 

Entering the bathroom, you quickly brushed your teeth and ran back over to Jisung’s room. Were you excited? Of course, you were. It had been a long time and you missed the feeling of having an authentic sleepover without one of you going to your own bed.

Soon after you came back, he headed to the bathroom himself. You let your back fall onto his bed with a sigh. 

You should probably change into your sleepwear before you passed out soon, but the thought of walking over to your room sounded like the biggest mission ever.

Your eyes felt heavy. Maybe you could just sleep in what you were already in, that would've been the easiest way to satisfy your desire for slumber. But you’d feel uncomfortable in your tight shirt though. You pondered for a moment before deciding on wearing one of Jisung’s shirts. 

Yeah, that sounded much better.

Slapping yourself awake and mustering what little energy you had, you dragged your feet over to his dresser. His drawers were always a mess and honestly, you had found his shirts thrown in about every single one of them. 

So what you saw—it really wasn't your fault.

You blinked a few times, your eyes focusing on the box that was underneath the shirt you just picked up. A box of condoms was placed near the corner of the drawer, some of the foiled elastics scattered messily around.

Just in time, Jisung walked back in and noticed your blank expression. He snickered, “What?” He took off his hoodie, throwing it onto his empty desk chair before jumping into bed. The lack of words concerned him. “Earth to Y/N-”

Fear was strange. 

You supposed it settled on chests and seeped through skin—through layers of tissue, muscle, and bone—collecting itself in a black hole and sucking the joy out of life. The pleasure, and the beauty. 

But not the hope. Somehow, the hope was the only thing resistant to the fear, and it was that hope that made the next breath possible, the next step, the next tiny act of rebellion, even if that rebellion was simply a kiss.

Within a matter of seconds, you found yourself on the bed beside Jisung. The shirt in your hands was thrown on the end of his bed. Confusion still narrowed his face as you brought your hand to his cheek. He didn't flinch or move—even speak. 

Suddenly he wasn't capable of it anymore.  

And unexpectedly, without a word, you kissed him. Your breathing sounded too loud. Your heart was beating too quickly.

Oh, God. What had you done?

He could’ve sworn that he felt the stars turn emerald and gold to match your aura. The moon would’ve given your skin enough radiance to leave glowing traces on his skin when you did so. This made him long to be underneath the night sky with you once more.

Honesty, you felt so stupid. You felt so stupid because your feelings were heightened from confessing and stupidly sharing your feelings earlier—so much so, you kissed Jisung. It was a mistake. 

You were sitting vulnerable, lips pressed against your best friend. You felt naked—not literally. But that's how it felt. You were sitting there trembling and metaphorically naked, and you had no idea what he was thinking.

Terror rushed through you as you pulled away and met his eyes. You were expecting him to be upset, rightfully so. You had kissed him without warning, without a word. But your doubts quickly subsided in a matter of seconds. 

He always envied people like that, people like you. People could just act on their impulses and go out on a whim. He envied how you could just decide to go and do without worrying about what could happen until after. He envied how free you were, and how your energy could bring a room to life. 

Maybe that was what compelled him to kiss you again.

In one quick move, he reached for you, tugging you against his chest as he claimed your mouth in a kiss that was so much hotter, but no less intimate than the first. 

His lips slanted over yours, hot and needy as his tongue tasted your mouth. His arms held you so tightly it made you feel more secure than you had ever felt in a very long time.

You suddenly felt more than secure; you felt adored. You felt seen and heard, and like the most important person on the planet.

But you see, people like him could merely dream of people like you.

He pulled away with a light groan, “I’m sorry.” He felt shame wash over him as he caught himself getting carried away.

“Jisung—”

“No, no. I’m sorry,” he repeated, shaking his head.

They always said that the moon loved the sun. Jisung never understood the pain that the moon must have been in. How much those moments when they crossed paths must have meant to it. 

He was starting to understand now. He couldn't ever have you. He could never hold you or need you because, in the end, he couldn't have you. 

So it all felt wrong. He shouldn't be kissing you—not right now at least. Not when he could be easily convinced that you wanted him. It was too late in the night for him to separate your real feelings from the agreement you’d both made together.

Sure, he could’ve pretended that you wished to be his and make it easier for both of you. He could create this idea that you had secretly wanted him all along. And then, he’d forget that it was just something he had made up. But, he’d be dumb to do that. You didn't want him and you were not his.

You on the other hand were unable to decide on what you should've felt. Embarrassment should've been the first thing on the list, but somehow desire still found its way to the top. And because of that, you were so selfish, so inconsiderate, so self-centered for what you were about to do.

“Don’t be sorry, Sungie.”

You stood, grabbing the shirt you had previously tossed on the bed. Jisung had no other choice but to watch you as you took off your shirt, unhooked your bra, and let it slip to the floor before pulling one of his shirts over your head.

Jisung��s eyes flare wide and he shot up. Suddenly he was taking back his apology and morals. One night wouldn’t hurt him as bad, he hoped. 

"No, no. That was way too fast... do it again.” His voice was strained and you huffed out a laugh.

Purposely ignoring his request, you pulled off your lounge shorts, and Jisung bit back his tongue, dramatically throwing himself back on the pillow to face the ceiling.

"What?" you asked, continuing to laugh at his expense.

"Well, first of all. You just flashed me for the first time—you're evil for that, by the way..." He raised himself to lean on one elbow. "Second, you said you'd be cool with spending the night with me after a long time, which is very sweet of you because I think there are ghosts in this room…” 

He was trying his hardest to not address the elephant in the room, and you let him continue to speak because he wasn’t done yet.

"Lastly, you look so fucking adorable in my clothes.”

Raising an eyebrow quizzically, you gasped in disbelief, “Hey! Don’t I always?” You sat back on his bed, close to him, still aware of the frustration that was lurking in the air. 

It was clear he was also fighting the urge to grab you and swallow you. He nervously chuckled, opting to bunch the fabric at your waist into his grasp. 

No, you didn't understand… You looked so adorable in his clothes that he wanted to rip them off you. 

He pulled you closer to him because he just couldn't help himself anymore. And you couldn't either by the way you didn't bother hearing what he had to say next. 

Instead, you reconnected both of your lips and the both of you felt a wave of ecstasy fill your bodies in excitement. 

You never really processed what was happening as it was all going too fast. But, this was Jisung. The Jisung who would never judge you—who would never make you feel as little as you made yourself feel. Who would tease you, but never fail to compliment you. He was good to you in his own way. A little too good. 

You pulled back, trying to breathe. When you eased back on your heels, it seemed like for a fraction of a moment before Jisung followed you, trying to fill the gap between your mouths again. He wanted this so much more than you could ever imagine.

So, lightly pushing him back on the bed—your lips still connected—you slid on top and straddled him. Perfect. A shot of adrenaline coursed through him when he felt your arms trap him, your clothed core pressed against his.

He felt your muscles relax this time around. It wasn't common that you found yourself this close to Jisung despite your long history. This was far too different, far too new.

With a sigh of something like defeat, he ran his hands up and down your bare thighs, repeating, "You're perfect. So, so perfect for me” like a mantra in his head. Your lips were soft, so soft. He had kissed you before but he nearly melted this time.

And you moved, grinding slowly against him teasingly, which made his heart race and mouth go dry. His breathing sped up. All of his blood rushed south, and he was harder than a fucking brick. He was definitely in a lot more pain than he’d ever been before. 

He needed to be inside of you. But he was patient—of course, he was.

You pushed his hand down to where your butt met your thigh. He had to bend down a lot and it got his mouth much closer. Now, you pulled his other hand up from your ribs, to the side of your breast. 

He looked like he was about to pass out. Your ego was nearly too big to fit in this room.

He had his hands on you. Too bold for your own good. You lifted his hand and snuck it up underneath the loose shirt, pressing his fingertips up your hips… up your torso… and up to your breasts… just to see what happened.

Whatever control he had over himself slipped significantly and his hand regained its autonomy. His thumb traced your nipple, gently, making you suck in a breath at the coldness of his finger. "Jisung." You muttered, parting from his lips.

His eyes grew to be hooded, heavy with slumber still as he quietly spoke, "Do you want to stop?" His thumb continued to make patterns and it made you have the urge to press your body closer to him.

"No,” you answered. "Do you?"

He shook his head, feeling rather pathetic realizing how quickly he did so. 

You brushed away the hair from his forehead. “How badly do you want it?”

So badly—More than anything.

But then reality hit him. This was your first time. It wasn't fair of him to do this, right? His thumb came to a stop and he loosened his grip around you. 

He thought he was finally over you. He really thought he was finally over you. But his mind slowly always crept back. No matter the situation, the people around him, or what he was doing. You were always there. 

In the deepest parts of his mind. He still wanted you. He began to think that he always will.

“You seem hesitant.”

“I’m not,” he defended which made you give him a certain look, causing him to sigh. He pulled away just enough to look at you, “It’s just…” He spoke up once more. “It’s your first time—I just can't help but think—”

“You don't have to worry about me.” Yes, he did. He will always end up worrying about you. You grabbed his hand, wrapping it around your torso so he could hold you tighter like before, like you missed the feeling of his weight pressed against you.

He looked down at you, eyes wide, unable to stop himself from looking from your eyes to your lips and back again. This feeling was not new to him, he had sex with a few girls before, but you were different, and he just didn't want to rob you of your first. 

It took every ounce within him to pull away, "No, I'm being serious—” 

He wanted you so badly, not just sexually. He would’ve been just fine with continuing to listen to you talk for hours about nothing. 

His eyes fell onto your wet lips again. He just wanted you. All of your flaws, mistakes, smiles, giggles, jokes, sarcasm, habits—everything the world had to offer. He just wanted you.

Your thumb caressed his jaw, sweetly, “Are you afraid that something would happen to me, Sungie?”

He nodded back trying his hardest to not focus on the way you looked at him so suddenly. You gently placed your hand on his cheek, guiding his head lower to you. 

See for Jisung, he didn't care about himself. He would always put you before him and it was no doubt a question up for discussion. But, he had promised himself that the next girl he would end up having sex with would be someone he would love. Someone he would end up being with, hopefully, for the rest of his life. 

He didn't expect that to be you.

You tilted your head, and ever so softly pressed your lips against his. And suddenly he felt his body tense up from underneath you because he was afraid. Afraid about who he would be after everything. 

Are you afraid that something would happen to me? It kept replaying in his mind, over and over again.

He wanted to say, “No no, maybe it wasn't that… maybe I’m just afraid of falling,” but he remained silent, falling into a sorrowful euphoria as he drowned that were your lips. 

Maybe if he did say it though, you would’ve said something along the lines of “You're not going to fall, silly,” and then he would’ve followed up with, “Yes, I will—if we continue this, I'm a goner.”

But he remained silent. 

Instead, he put a hand under your knee to lift your leg over his hip. His fingertips stroked up under the hem of the shirt you wore, making a smooth line up your outer thigh to the side of your underwear. 

When his fingertips touched the elastic and you shivered. "Have you ever… touched yourself?" He breathed out against your lips.

You nodded and he nearly came at the thought of you unraveling yourself next door. What did you think about? Who were you thinking of? How come he hadn't heard you? 

Suddenly he felt like a creep, wondering and fantasizing about how you got off.

“Have you?” You redirected it to him. He scoffed lightheartedly, pulling your hand to his lower half where the evidence of his attraction was obvious through his sweatpants. 

The answer was clear and you dared to glance down his body—to what strained under his pants. 

His lips were so swollen, so red. He already looked so fucked out and nothing even happened yet. You wondered how you looked from his perspective. 

All you knew was that whenever his cold fingers traced you anywhere, you shuttered. 

“W-What do you like?” He choked out, his fingers continuing to graze the lining of your underwear.

He was absolutely in love with the way your breathing changed as soon as he touched your body. He could only imagine your sweet moans mixed in with little screams of pleasure, all because of him. But still, he was afraid of making the wrong move that would fuck it all up. 

You didn’t answer his question and instead tugged on the fabric of his shirt, “Off.” 

In his world, your wish was his command, and seconds later, he threw off his shirt somewhere in his room. Your hands desperately traveled down to the waistband of his sweatpants in an attempt to help him take it off too.

"No," he said, stopping your hands from continuing further. "Let me touch you first.” He had wanted to do it for so long. 

You didn't say no. Instead, you laid, wide-eyed, gazing up at him as his fingertips traced your temples, then your cheekbones, then—softly despite his rough calluses—outlined the shape of your mouth as if he meant to commit it to memory. 

The gesture made your heart abruptly spin inside your chest. His eyes remained fixated on you, as dark as the bottom of the ocean, wondering, dazed with discovery. 

Laying still, his fingertips left your mouth and trailed a path down your throat, stopping at your pulse. Your eyelids fluttered half-closed as his warm hand covered your bare collarbone. 

You recalled when you felt Hyunjin’s hair graze your neck that moment in the art studio—when you really believed nothing could feel better than feeling his presence overtop you. It was as if Jisung’s hands did the same to your skin. 

You burned where he touched you, and could feel where his fingers had been even when they had moved on. 

His hands moved lightly but lower, over the bodice of your shirt, following the curves of your hips. You gasped, as his hands slid to grip your waist and draw you toward him, pulling your bodies together until there was not a millimeter of space.

You ached for more contact. Your hand slid to your ribs to cover his through the cotton. He looked up at you through dark lashes and began to lift a corner of your shirt, up your thighs, and past your hip, until it caught right under your breast. 

You gave him a helpless look, and he prowled closer. His fingers found the loose hem of your shirt. "Can I?" he asked quietly.

You whispered, "Yes.”

Jisung still studied your eyes, as if reading the sincerity of that word and deeming it true. Gently, he pulled the fabric from you. Cool air kissed your skin, pebbling it. The flexible band around your hips remained, but Jisung’s gaze remained on your own. 

"Tell me what you want next," he said, tucking the strands of hair that had fallen onto your face.

Hand nervous, you grazed a finger over your underwear.

Jisung’s own hands shook as he reached to pull it down. As he revealed you to the air, to him. His eyes seemed to go wholly black as he took in the entire sight of you, your uneven breathing.

Beautiful.

Your mouth curled as his expression settled within you. It gave you enough courage that you grabbed his hand and guided him to your seeping heat. His eyes widened, the darkness concealing his sudden shock. 

You were so wet. So, incredibly and seemingly wet that he could pull his fingers away and see the string of arousal follow him. 

And at that moment, he realized, you couldn't get any more attractive than this. Seeping out and he barely even touched you. Not because of Hyunjin—not because of yourself—but because of him.

Jisung trembled with restraint. It was an emotion, you weren't aware he had.

That darling purr of his rumbled into you as he pressed his mouth against yours once more. His hand drifted to your hair, each stroke unbinding the braid you lazily made earlier sometime during the movie.

"We only go as far and long as you want," he muttered, his tongue exploring yours. He was trying his hardest to leave his mark. The one Hyunjin had taken and erased from you with his lips before. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

Jisung gently brushed his thumb over your throbbing clit and you felt your muscles tighten at the contact. 

"Good?" He asked. It was clear he was trying to understand and study what you liked. He worked a finger up and down your slit, much to your demise, lazily playing with your arousal. 

You were growing light-headed.

You pulled him back in, capturing his lips hungrily—fingers getting stuck in his messy hair. “Sungie. Please.”

“I know—I know shhh,” he hushed sweetly into your ear, before kissing below your jawline and making his way in between your legs. You couldn't be held responsible for what happened next.

He slipped a finger, your mouth agape at the feeling. You had only fingered yourself before and you had grown used to the feeling of your own fingers inside you. But his—they were longer and thicker, you couldn't think straight. 

He started to move them in and out slowly to get you adjusted to the pressure of his fingers inside you. But you were extremely wet that it didn't take long for him to start fingering you properly, hooking his fingers into you. 

“You’re so tight,” he sighed beginning to play with your clit with his other hand. Your hands quickly grabbed ahold of his shoulders, eyes rolling to the back of your head from the stimulation. “But, you have to be quiet…” He was referring to your clueless friend who was just across the hallway fast asleep.

You see, you would have answered, praising him for fitting you and making you feel so good that he needed to warn you about being loud... if he hadn't closed the distance between your clit and his mouth. 

It was a little more than you’d expected—your hips rising at the sudden contact. His hand went onto your waist to steady you a little. 

Your jaw dropped, “Fuck—” 

Jisung was eating you out, his tongue playing so skillfully against your bud. He was really trying to ruin you, huh? You couldn't think straight anymore and it certainly didn't warrant the way his heart pounded in his chest wondering if you fell in love with his mouth. 

He inserted another finger into your cunt, making you muffle your moan with the back of your hand. Your head was spinning. His fingers pumped, curling into you so perfectly as his mouth was on your heat, tasting you, devouring you.

You forced yourself to think straight and it worked until the pressure on your lower stomach began to build. You had no idea how much time you had left but all you knew was that you couldn't go on for much longer. 

“Ji, I-I’m going to cum.”

He felt something warm as he felt you release into his mouth. You tasted so pure and sweet. It didn't help that you looked so alluring contracting against his fingers either, as your walls pulsated with pleasure. 

It was powerful and perfect and beautiful. When it was too much, you pulled him up to you. He watched as you twitched with the last aftershocks of pleasure, feeling your little heart beat a drum against his own. 

At this moment, he had everything. Every last thing he needed.

He waited a few moments, the sounds of both of your breaths filling up the room. His chin was glistening in your arousal and you had the oddest impulse to just lick it off. 

Understanding the sudden hunger in your eyes, he hovered himself over you. "Can I fuck you?" he asked against your mouth fulfilling your desire.

Kissing him back, you pulled him even closer, tracing his hot, sweaty skin. He knew he wasn't worthy, but he selfishly wanted you anyway. 

"Mmm?" Your breaths were still heavy from your orgasm and you clenched on nothing but his words.

"Can I fuck you? Please?"

Nodding, you reached down for him to help take off his sweatpants, but he wasn't sure if there was time for that. He was hard in a way that was painful and urgent—different from ever before, and your flawless, soft, tight core was right there, ready for him.

Nonetheless, he quickly parted from you to slip out of his pants and boxers, grabbing a condom from the drawer you had mistakenly opened. You began to wonder what would've happened if you hadn't opened the drawer. Would you have been fucking your best friend? Maybe it would've happened in a week from now—maybe two. 

You weren't sure. 

All you were certain about was that you needed him to fill you up.

He glided his tip along your slit, teasing you. And when he began to slide inside of you—slowly—afraid of hurting you in any way, his existence narrowed to the bare details: the pressure around his dick, strained, world-defining; Your eyes held his own, shocked-wide; the air between you, warm, heavy.

"You're so big," you gasped, wincing.

He groaned into your neck. Maybe he was big. Still. "You can take it." Nothing, nothing existed, except for the pleasure tingling at the base of his spine.

"I can," you agreed, still adjusting to him. Your walls clenched on Jisung’s length and he had to close his eyes, or else it would’ve been over right now.

And when he finally moved from inside of you, your toes curled with the unbelievable feeling. It was so much deeper like this, and he lifted your hips a little so you were able to absorb every inch. You were filled and stretched, and he felt like his work was only halfway finished. He wanted you to feel complete.

He rocked inside you, and it was torture. Delicious, drowning torture.

You grabbed his hand, guiding it to your swollen bud below. He was quick to catch on and began rubbing circles which made you slap your hand over your mouth to silence yourself. 

“It was too late in the night—and Minho was right across the hallway,” you kept reminding yourself.

Jisung worked your clit slowly, making your thighs tighter at his sides. You were purely in bliss. Nothing could make you mad or upset when you were filled with pleasure in this way. 

You began to wonder why you had waited so long to fuck someone. For Hyunjin? Suddenly you didn't care.

He hit the spot deep inside of you, and your head flipped back, jaw-dropping as you released quite literally the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. You were convinced that you’d still feel where he was inside of you the next day. 

He pushed his hips up hard against you, sending shudders through your body. “Y-You’re doing so well,” he moaned out. If he was being honest, he could've came the second he felt your walls close in on him. 

His breath against your ear made you shudder with each deliberate release of air. "I’ve wanted to make you feel this way," he repeated over and over again to himself. "Every moment of every hour of every day that I have been with you since the day I met you. But you know that. You must know. Don't you?"

“Faster—please.”

"Are you close baby?" He whimpered, his brows furrowing as he began to feel his high rising. He was getting sloppier and sloppier.

The feeling was so erotic and the sounds he made weren’t helping. It was only getting you closer and closer to your release. 

Your body had lost control as you nodded frantically at his question. The ripple inside you turned into a wave, your mouth pooling with whines. 

It wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to love you like this. 

When he first met you— when you had moved into the house across the street, sleeping so beautifully in your carrier, just like him, he wouldn't have ever imagined that you would be the one he would ache for. That you would be the one whose name left him with a nostalgic pain. 

You meant more to him than ever expected.

You moaned loudly into your hand, afraid to wake Minho as your high washed over you—diligently this time around. Your body fell into waves of contractions as Jisung’s head dropped in the nook of your neck, fucking through your sweet release until his own shot right into the condom.

He always told you that no matter what you did or what he did, he’d always love you. You’d always hug him and smother him with kisses all over saying how much you’d always love him too. 

Of course, you meant it completely platonically—but at the time, he savored your words and couldn't stop smiling for weeks. 

Jisung wished he could tell his younger self a few things. Never did he ever picture you underneath, tears brimming in your eyes as he made you come so well. And it was harder for him to believe that he was doing it for the wrong reasons. You didn't do it out of love or lust. It wasn't infatuation or hate.

But seemingly enough, he couldn't be too bothered right now. You both were fucked out, unable to speak as your throat grew sore just like the space in between your legs. 

To him, it was worth it.

This was when part of him realized he would always be stuck on you. It was clear he had little to no self-respect for himself when it came to you. Why? He had no idea. Maybe because you were the first person he had truly unconditionally loved. Maybe because you were the only one who was able to put him in this excruciating pain.

He kissed your forehead, sweetly, and thought to himself, "I swear there is no one I would ever love the way I love you."

Pulling out of you, he instantly missed the warmth and tightness that you had given him prior. He believed that was when he had gotten scared of the world around him, feeling so vulnerable and open. He wanted to go back into the world he had created with you and stay there forever. And ever. And ever.

It was silent as Jisung threw away the sticky condom in his bin. The air in the room was still and he couldn't bring himself to say a word to break the tension. You were still recovering from everything and could only focus on the white ceiling while doing so. 

He threw his sweatpants back on, grabbing a towel from his closet to clean you up. He wasn't sure if you minded the mess you made all over yourself, but he took it up himself to wipe it away nonetheless.

"So this is what sex with you would be like.”

His face fell pale and he peered up from in between your legs. You couldn't resist teasing him regardless of the hour. 

Clearing his throat, he licked his dry lips, unsure of what to say. He suddenly felt so awkward—something that was rare when it came to the both of you. Instead of replying, he did his last swipe and finished cleaning you. 

Throwing the towel in his hamper, he joined you in his sheets, quickly not favoring the space in between you both.

You turned around to face him. “Sungie?”

It was dark in his room, but he could still see your face so well. He had memorized every part of you so skillfully that it began to petrify him. 

What if he’d never forget you? What if, all his life, whenever he’d meet someone new, he could never fall for them because they weren't you? 

“Hm?” He hummed in a low voice.

He’d never forget the songs you’d listened to or the things you’d talked about. He wouldn't dare forget the little inside jokes you both had or the laughs you shared. Surely, he wouldn't ever forget your smile or the sound of your voice. 

He’d never forget you, so please, don't forget him.

You woke up to the blaring sound of Jisung’s alarm.

Fluttering your eyes open, you were faced with him peacefully asleep. His hair was a mess and his arm was lazily draped over your body. The sunlight that crept past the blinds hit his bare back, a golden hue forming, and you had the sudden impulse to touch it. Just trace it and feel the marks you made last night.

The alarm continued.

“Maybe that would have been odd of you to do that,”  you wondered. But it was just so tempting that your fingers began to tingle from the thought. Your eyes were still hooded from your slumber and your eyesight wasn't the best but it almost looked like Heaven had appeared from behind him. 

Faded footsteps around the apartment began to sound, growing to become evidently prominent as they came to a stop behind the bedroom door. That was when the realization hit you. 

You had fucking class today. 

There was a knock at the bedroom door.

“Ji, you up?” Minho called out. 

Your eyes widened and you jumped up, throwing Jisung’s arm off you. It was evident he didn't hear or feel a single thing as he simply snuggled up against his pillow once more. 

Panicked by your compromising position with Minho behind the door, you tried to look for your phone. 

“Jisung!” You whispered adamantly, attempting to wake the boy up. 

His room was a mess. It wasn't like it was anything new, but today, it was too messy. His comforter reached the bottom of his bed, and blankets and pillows fallen off to the ground. Both of your clothes were scattered, pizza boxes and empty soda cans cluttered on his desk. 

It also didn't help that his alarm was still blaring that annoying tune.

Minho knocked again, louder. You jumped at the sound, throwing on Jisung’s shirt from last night. “Hanji, your alarm is loud as shit. Wake up,” he groaned and knocked for the third time.

Nothing.

Jisung was the heaviest sleeper ever. You grabbed a pillow from off the ground and smacked it onto his head and almost instantly his eyes shot open, startled. 

“What the fu—”

You covered his mouth with your hand, “Minho is here and I think I’m late for class.” He was still shocked by his abrupt awakening to process the words that exited your mouth. “Can you please turn off your alarm?” 

He wordlessly clicked the off button, unable to form a coherent sentence still.

Minho spoke again from behind the door, “Took you long enough.”

Aggressively signaling for Jisung to reply, his eyes widened, unsure of what to say. Ultimately enough the boy cleared his dry throat. “O-Oh sorry Lino?” He was rather confused and it was clear by the tone of his response.

“Don’t worry about it. It was just so loud,” Minho stifled a lighthearted laugh. You rolled your eyes at his laid-back tone. If you were in Jisung’s shoes, your door would've been busted down by now. “Anyways, I’m making pancakes. You want some?”

“Yeah sure, thanks. I'll be out in a bit.” 

Once Minho walked off, you groaned continuing to scavenge the mess on the ground in search of your phone. Pancakes sounded really good right now and you could feel your stomach begin to grumble as you thought about devouring them. 

You picked up a stray pillow from off the ground and finally saw a familiar case. “Thank God,” you sighed. Once turning it on, you noticed two things. One, that you were indeed late for class, and two, that you had a few missed messages from Hyunjin.

hyunjin: hey, are you coming to lit? 

hyunjin: maybe we can walk togetherrrr

hyunjin: lol i guess ur skipping??

Jisung finally spoke up, “So are you actually late?” You nodded, busy as you figured out how to respond to Hyunjin. 

He sat up against his headboard, rubbing his sleepy eyes. Noticing your stale expression as you looked at your phone, he leaned over to grab his phone from his nightstand. 

“What time is it? Is it that bad?” 

You sat back on his bed, “No, it’s only ten but—it’s just that Hyunjin texted me.”

Jisung glanced up from his phone briefly before looking back down. He tried his hardest to not show how bothered he’d become in a matter of seconds. “What did he say?” He yawned. Honestly, he could've cared less, especially after last night, but he was always such a curious soul.

“He wanted to walk to class together.” You were attempting to formulate a text to respond with, but your mind kept blanking. “I’m not sure of what to say…” You turned to him, handing your phone over with pleading eyes. “Can you please make something up?”

You see, most people compared eyes to oceans or galaxies. Not your eyes though. They reminded him of his favorite thing, coffee. He thought about it for a moment, and then met your eyes. That was when he realized that's probably why he felt so awake when you looked at him. You were like coffee in the morning. 

He sat up straighter, gulping, with wide eyes. “Y-Yeah, of course.” It was when he took your phone he wondered why you wouldn't just tell Hyunjin the truth—that you woke up late. But he’d rather not question you, not when he was simply willing to do anything you wanted him to.

He sent a text and handed the phone back to you.

You didn't bother reading what he had sent, too ashamed of yourself for waking up late and missing an opportunity with Hyunjin after a long weekend apart. 

“Thanks.” 

Jisung gave you a thin-lipped smile, finally standing up from his bed. Not only did he realize his room was an utter mess, but he felt like he was about to pass out again when he took a look at you on his bed still.

Of course, you were clothed this time around, but even seeing you wearing his shirt made his chest flutter. It wasn't good for his sanity to see you there anymore. 

“Aren't you late for class?” 

You groaned, throwing your head on his pillow in despair. You were killing him, seriously. “I’m already late. Should I still g-”

“Yes.” His tone was adamant which caught you by surprise

“Woah, did I suck that bad last night?” You scoffed, jokingly. Jisung felt something in his pants twitch as he finally recalled the events that he wanted to ignore. Your eyes trailed down to his sweatpants and you laughed. “Hmm, I guess not.”

His jaw dropped and he quickly grabbed a pillow from the floor to cover his very clear hard-on. For the first time, in a long time, he was embarrassed in front of you. There was no doubt that he was flustered, his cheeks darkened in color as he tried whatever he could to suppress the feeling between his legs. 

But his mind kept running to when you first kissed him last night to when you begged for him, and when he begged for you—it was all too much to take right now.

Of course, you were good. 

He decided to let that topic of conversation die out because he’d die of embarrassment himself if he didn't. “So, are you coming tonight?” Clearing his throat, he hugged the pillow against his crotch tighter silently praying that by the time he removed it, everything would be okay. 

“Tonight? What’s tonight?”

“Chan and Bin’s party.”

Ah, the event Hyunjin referred to on Friday that he was going to—well, maybe he wasn't anymore. Who knew? The lack of communication was killing you and you felt a pit in your stomach again when you recalled the missed opportunity with him this morning again. 

You were getting tired of yourself, you shouldn't think too much about him.

So you thought about it for a moment, unknowingly letting your eyes drift down to the pillow that was held against Jisung’s trembling hands. “Whose going to be there?”

“Everyone you know. Come.” 

“Well, what if it's boring?” 

The boy rolled his eyes at your obvious attempt to be difficult on purpose. “It won't be boring! I’ll be there.”

“That's interesting considering you're in the middle of hiding your boner Jisung.” You suppressed another laugh, a smile was plastered on your face. Toying with him was one of the best things you knew how to do.

That’s interesting, considering you fucked your best friend.

If it was possible for someone's face to catch on fire, his would’ve been by now. He didn't even know what to say, he was at a loss for words. His expression was evident and he didn't even bother to conceal it.

“Relax, I’ll think about it.”

It wasn't long until you found yourself getting ready for the party later that night. Inevitably enough, you already knew that you were going to end up attending. Especially since you were about eighty percent sure that Hyunjin was going to be there. 

You just missed him a lot, and you couldn't stop thinking about him.

“Are you almost ready?” Minho peered into your room. Seeing how you were in the middle of grabbing your bag and already dressed, he assumed you were. “Nevermind, I guess you are. ” 

The both of you ended up walking over to your friend's house together as it wasn't too far away. You were really starting to get tired of the cold, mostly at night when the sun was gone and the wind went crazy. 

Minho turned over to you, “Ji said he that he’s already there, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah, he went early to set up. Let’s hope they are done by now.”

“If they aren't, I’m going back home. I still need to pack for break,” he nonchalantly said, causing you to laugh. His personality was very unique that often you wondered if he’d ever find someone to be with.

You looped your arm in his, partly because you knew he would roll his eyes and because, well, you were cold. “I’m sure they’re done Lino.”

Finally arriving, the both of you were greeted by Changbin at the door. 

“Hey guys!” He was a cheerful mess and you wondered if he was already drunk. The party technically hadn't even started yet but still, suddenly you wanted to be on his level. 

Minho scrunched his nose in distaste, “How are you already drunk?” You stifled a laugh, covering your mouth with your free hand. 

“I kept taste testing the punch…” Changbin confessed, a grin still plastered onto his face.

There was a voice in the back that abruptly called out to Changbin. “Are people here already? You automatically knew who it was just by that.

Jisung appeared, his eyes instantly catching yours. “O-Oh hey guys.” He cleared his throat realizing how weird he sounded. You just looked so pretty that you caught him by surprise. Not that it was anything new—but he had to stop getting nervous like this. “Finally, you guys made it! We need some help.”

There was a groan from beside you, “I knew it…Y/N, didn't I tell you.”

“Mhm, you did,” you nodded, pursing your lips.

“Tell her what?” Jisung wanted to know too.

Minho sighed dramatically at the boy, “That you guys were going to take forever to set up!”

Jisung’s mouth fell into an ‘O’ shape because it was true. Low expectations were needed when it came to setting up for parties. But despite the struggle in doing so, 3Racha always ended up throwing the best functions on campus, so for that, he was still happy.

“Ji, where do you guys need us? We’ll help.” You asked, disregarding your friend's complaints from beside you.

After hearing his orders, you all headed to your designated stations. Yours was to blow up the remainder of the balloons and you thought that was a pretty easy task… until you were actually doing it. 

Your lungs were suffering by the time you tied the tenth balloon. There was no way you were going to finish the entire bag.

Jisung on the other hand was making some random concoction with Changbin in the kitchen as Minho, annoyed as ever, poured snacks into several big bowls.

All of you had about an hour until people would show up and that was more than enough time to finish everything. Well, aside from the current balloon you were attempting to blow.

Your phone buzzed with a text, and you gladly took it as a sign to give your lungs a break.

jisung: i hate you for looking so pretty today wtf

You laughed to yourself, rolling your eyes. He was too ridiculous.

you: that’s not very nice

jisung: fine, what do you want me to say?

jisung: damn ma the universe took its time with you

you: definitely not that…

The both of you texted for a minute more before somebody walked over to you. Setting your phone down, you realized that it was Chan.

He sat beside you on the couch, “Do you need some help? I know balloons can be a tad bit tricky.”

Your eyes lit up and you smiled. “Oh my gosh, yes! Thank you! I thought I was going to die.”

Soon enough the both of you were able to finish whatever was left of the bag in a reasonable amount of time and Chan proceeded to then work on the music.

Minho walked in and plopped onto the couch beside you. Assuming his task was done too, you offered if he wanted a drink. He thought about it for a second before ultimately agreeing.

You walked over to the kitchen where your friends were still creating their concoction. Why was it taking forever to make spiked punch? You grew slightly concerned by its contents before ultimately letting them be. 

After grabbing two beers from off the counter, Jisung called out for you.

“Wait, Y/N. Come try this!” He offered, pouring some of the liquid he made into a plastic cup. “Changbin is too drunk.”

You looked at him suspiciously, “Why won't you try it?”

“Bro, I’ll get fucked up after one sip. I’d prefer to let the party start first.” 

That sounded about correct. Agreeing, you walked over to him and took the cup, taking a long sip. You winced as it went down, it was too strong. 

“You need to add more juice. Are you trying to give someone fucking alcohol poisoning?” You gagged at the aftertaste that was left on your tongue.

Jisung laughed at your reaction, “Wait, let me try it actually.” He took your cup back and added another ladle in. Taking a sip, he immediately spat it back. “This tastes like nail polish remover.”

The both of you fell into a fit of laughter, daring each other to take just one more sip. For a moment, Jisung had forgotten that he was in love with you. After all that had happened between you both, he felt like a kid with his best friend again.

He missed this feeling. He missed having you as his best friend.

“Y/N, you would be a horrible waitress, you know?” Minho said walking into the kitchen and interrupting your playtime. “You were supposed to get us drinks like ten years ago.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile still on your face from the laughter you just had. “You are such a drama queen Lino.”

“And stupid. Every time Y/N and Hanji are put in the same room, they are like"—Changbin suddenly clapped his hands—"magnets,” he staggered a chuckle. 

If you were honest, you’d forgotten he was in the room with you guys the entire time. 

Jisung felt his cheeks redden at the sound and refocused his attention on the awful punch he made. He should listen to your advice and add more juice instead of playing around—especially when people were supposed to start coming in now. 

But he was stuck between, "I really want to talk to you,” and "I really need to get over you.”

He internally groaned, cursing himself. He just needed to stop thinking, and let go.

He just loved you so much. He was in love with every single thing about you. Hearing your voice made him feel happy in seconds, and hearing your laugh made him smile no matter how hard he tried not to. When you smiled at him from across the room, his heart went all crazy and he had gotten the familiar butterflies—the ones that guided themselves back into his stomach not so long ago.

And when you finally hugged him before leaving the kitchen and held him in your arms, he didn't care about anything else except you and him. The both of you. You were just so important to him. 

You were his best friend and literally, his everything.

Soon enough, people staggered into the house—some already drunk. It wasn't too far into it that you realized you weren't really a party girl anymore. After the three years, you had been in college, they had just gotten too repetitive to enjoy them anymore.

You looked around the living room, there were a lot of people scattered everywhere. So many different personalities and lives. You see, you never wish to be easily defined. You’d rather float over other people's minds as something strictly fluid and non-perceivable; more like a transparent, paradoxically iridescent creature rather than an actual person.

But that would be too hard to explain in this complex world.

Sighing, you swallowed the rest of the punch in your cup. Where was Hyunjin? You kept thinking about him, hoping he’d walk in sometime soon but he hadn’t for over an hour now. 

You walked over to the punch, pouring another serving. It also didn't help that you felt like your tolerance had turned out to be better than you expected. You simply just weren't getting drunk and at this moment, you really wanted to.

Chugging down what you had poured, you almost spit it back out when your eyes finally landed on Hyunjin. He came.

When he walked into a room, people were aware. He was esoteric, distinctive, and different. His aura commanded intrigue and people would watch and stare in awe.

You finally saw him. It almost felt like you were drunk and just imagining it all.

Do you go up to him? Maybe he already found people to hang out with? You weren't sure what to do.

Jisung scared you from behind, grabbing ahold of your shoulders. You scowled, hitting him. “Don't fucking scare me like that.”

He brought his hands up in surrender, “Sorry! You just looked like you were zoning out. I couldn't help myself.” Just seconds ago, his eyes had spotted you and he couldn't help but gawk and your beauty when you didn't notice it. 

The dress you wore complimented your body very well.

But until he heard you speak, despite the aggression, it wasn't even about how you looked anymore, it was about who you were. He may meet other beautiful girls, but there was something unforgettable about you. It could be your character, your essence, or your vibe, or it could just be the fact that in a world so superficial, you chose to be yourself. 

You rolled your eyes at Jisung and went back to looking at Hyunjin who stood at the same spot. He looked so fucking pretty it hurt. You wanted to run over and shower him with kisses and tell him how much you missed him. 

And maybe you were starting to finally feel the alcohol hit you because you were so tempted to do so, that you took one step forward before you saw Hyunjin reach out his hand for someone.

You halted your movement and it was almost as if you felt your world come crashing down when you saw that the person who grabbed his hand was the girl from the night at the club, Bora.

In a perfect world, it was smooth, it was bliss, it was peaceful. Overwhelmed with content, Hyunjin would hold your hand and body close endlessly and it would feel so good because you knew just how much he loved you. 

He’d want to learn more and more about you and you’d answer each question because you could never bare to leave him clueless. 

But it never occurred to you that each question was a step closer to the end. You never realized that one day he was going to run out of questions. 

Jisung’s eyes followed your gaze and he sighed. And by the way Hyunjin’s face was filled with contentment as he laughed with Bora now, playing with her hands, he knew you had to be hurt.

You see, you saw the signs but chose to ignore them; the distant look in his eyes lately, and the lack of emotion. It wasn't the same as before when you and Hyunjin both started to see each other in the beginning. The lack of effort he began to give and how your conversations just seemed to end. 

You didn't want to accept the truth that was bluntly in front of your face. What did she have that you didn't? Maybe he was slowly losing interest in you. So much so, it made your heart break.

You weren't hurt because he didn't talk to you, he most likely didn't see you yet. You were hurt because you expected him to. You expected him to feel your presence and just look at you. Smile at you. 

You expected him to be waiting impatiently to see you, just to tell you “Hi”, just like you had been. To tell you that you looked beautiful. That your smile lit up his world.

You expected him to tell you about the funny stories you had missed all weekend, and laugh together. Not leaving until he told you goodbye and made you smile. You were hoping he didn't change, but your expectations made it worse. 

He never looked at you. Never talked to you. Never smiled. Nor laughed. And while you were waiting for him to, you knew he wouldn't. He was too busy with her.

And that's what made you feel worse. Expectations.

This would've been the best time for Jisung to tell you about who Bora was to Hyunjin but something compelled him to stay silent.

You turned around in your shoes, pouring another cup and drinking it within seconds. Jisung’s eyebrows rose in shock as he saw you refilling it yet again. 

“Woah, woah. Slow down.” He attempted to take the cup from you but you finished it before he could. “Just forget about him at least for tonight, Y/N.” 

You ignored him, throwing your cup away in the bin beside him. “Hey Jisung.” His eyes looked at you, waiting for you to continue as he was unsure of where you were headed. You leaned in and brought your lips to his ear, “Do you want to fuck me again?”

The color quickly drained from his face, growing pale. “W-What?”

You weren't in the right state of mind. You just saw the boy you loved with another girl, of course, you weren't thinking straight. 

“Do you?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a small kiss on his jaw. 

Yes. A million times, yes. But not now when your judgment was skewed. Still, he didn't have the heart to say no to you.

The lack of response made you scoff. “Well okay then.” You removed your arms from his neck, adjusting your small dress. “I’ll just find someone else, I guess.”

It was so much easier to act like none of it mattered. To pretend to wear a smile than to confess that his heart was ever so delicately dangling on a tight rope. It could be easily broken, you know? Completely and utterly shattered from losing someone who was never his, to begin with. You just needed to say the right words.

You attempted to walk away, but he held your wrist, not letting you distance yourself further from him. “You’re drunk. Stop it,” he sighed.

Laughing, you shook your head. “But I’m not, Ji. I’m perfectly sober—maybe a little tipsy, if anything.” You pulled your wrist away from his grasp, “I just hate being in love with someone who doesn't want to be with me.”

“That’s not true, he might…”

“Now, you’re just saying things to make me feel better.” You hugged your arms around your torso. “You really wouldn't understand, Sungie.”

How fucking ironic.

All the times you didn't look at him or call him over earlier in the night because you were too busy looking at the front door to see if Hyunjin would walk in. What he felt because of it—Jisung didn't show you. So when he finally came to you, he told himself that he wouldn't: he knew he had no right to feel it. 

But still, it didn't mean he didn't.

He hated how he told himself that he was giving up on you and yet years later, he was here, still trying. Because nothing made him happier and nothing made him sadder than you.

Every time you appeared, his heart grew a little too big and broke a little more.

His eyebrows rose, "So, that’s what you really think?" You bit on the inside of your cheek, not answering him. "You are probably the most interesting girl I've ever met.” 

It was the nicest way he could possibly call you the dumbest girl he’d ever met.

You didn't understand. You didn't see how he looked at you, how he fell for you every time you smiled, whenever he looked at you, he had to think about something else because all he wanted to do was kiss you. You didn't understand how whenever you were with Hyunjin, it literally killed him because he didn't love you like he loved you.

You loved Hyunjin more than he would ever know, and Jisung loved you more than he would ever show. What a tragedy.

Jisung grabbed your hand, guiding you toward the bathroom. At this point, he needed to be alone with you. You were driving him insane and if he was being sincere, he didn't seem to care anymore.

He shut the door and his eyes focused on you.

Everything around you suddenly smelled like him, like it belonged to him—like he was poured into the bottle you were drowning in. 

You didn't even realize that you were leaning into him, inhaling the scent of his neck until you found his hands were around your waist, and he said, "You," and he whispered it, he pressed the word into your skin before he hesitated. 

Then again, softer.

His chest, heaving harder this time. His words, almost gasping this time. "You destroy me."

At the time, you didn't know what he meant. You were too engrossed by the stillness around you. His voice in your ear... it did interesting things to you. It curved your back and parted your lips. You felt lazy and feline.

You saw Jisung get closer, and you closed your eyes, opening them to find him mere inches away. You suck in a breath as he cupped your face, bringing you closer still. In a matter of seconds, his lips touched yours, and your eyes close once more. 

His lips continue their exploration, gently at first, and then unyieldingly hard. You opened for him and his tongue snaked its way inside your mouth. His hands move from your face to your lower back as he pulled you toward him, closing whatever space was left between you. 

A few moments later, he broke the kiss, whispering something in your ear that sounded like nonsense. You pulled him even closer, grabbed a fistful of his hair, and kissed him as hard as you could. Your fingers were already attempting to release the button on his jeans. 

Jisung tasted like peppermint and smelled like cinnamon and gardenias. His arms were wrapped around you, his lips soft, almost sweet against your skin. There was an electric charge between you both that you hadn't anticipated.

Your head was spinning.

His lips were on your neck, tasting you, and you forced yourself to think straight. To force yourself to understand the issue of this situation. It was wrong, you knew it. But you didn't know how to reconcile the confusion in your mind, your hesitant repulsion, your inexplicable chemical reaction to his lips. 

You needed to feel him. Now.

Jisung lifted you by the waist, hoisting you up onto the edge of the sink, his hands cupping your rear, forcing your legs to wrap around him. He didn't realize that he had given you the perfect angle to press yourself against him.

"Do you want me to leave?" Jisung’s lips were at your ear when he spoke. He was breathing harder now and you felt his heart pound against you.

"No," you said too quickly. "No."

He leaned back, just a little. "Tell me what you want then," he said desperately. "Tell me what to do," he said, "and I'll do it."

What you were both doing—it wasn't normal. 

You could choose to look away if you wanted to, but you didn't. Your chest rose and fell as your breathing became labored. And suddenly your clothes felt far too tight on your skin. 

The moment he turned his head to lock eyes with yours, you knew what you both were about to do.

He lifted his right hand to move a strand of hair that had become stuck to your forehead and placed it behind your ear.

Your mouth went dry. "I—I don't know what I'm doing.”

"Anything you do will be enough."

You tried to remember how to speak, but you were too focused on the fingers he was running down your thighs to form sentences. There's something about the absolute darkness, about not being able to see what was happening that made you drunk, not with the liquor, but with a delicious dizziness. 

Sometimes he’d look at you and you’d look at him and just know. Both of your eyes spoke more than your mouths ever did. Some of your glances said, "I want you right now" and he said, "It's okay, I'm here."

And that was all you managed to say.

He leaned his forehead against yours and lightly scoffed knowing that was far from the truth. "You know," he said. "It's so hard for me to stop myself." His words tingled on your skin.

You allowed your hands to slip under his shirt. You traced the perfectly sculpted lines of his body. He was nothing but lean muscle. "You don't have to," you told him. His fingers were at the dip right below your hip bone, teasing the small piece of fabric that kept you halfway decent

Surely, he had to.

It was hard for him that you weren't together. He never knew where the lines were. He wanted to cross them all the time. You’d kissed and touched, but then you’d both go back to being just friends and it was confusing.

He wanted to feel your wet core swallow his fingers whole. He wanted to give you everything you wanted tonight. 

Your hands landed flat above his collarbones, fingers curling into his shirt. He kept one hand on your waist and moved the other across your jaw. Still, he didn't bring his mouth down on yours. His eyes shifted between your own half-closed eyelids and then focused in on your lips—which pouted in response.

"You've got to stop looking at me like that." He brushed his thumb across your bottom lip, and your eyes were fully closed. He groaned, "Don't do that either."

Your voice was breathier than you’d heard before. "Do what?" 

"Act like you want my touch that much."

“But I do.”

He brushed your lip again, longer this time, from one corner to the other. You reeled from it, but you held still so he wouldn't pull away. You didn't want him to stop.

“No, you don't.”

Your tongue found the pad of his thumb. Rough and salty. Possessing by whatever force there was between you both, you nipped his thumb gently as you looked up at him. Ask him to stay, and he would. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist and whispered in his ear. "Stay.” 

This was his cue to kiss you again, much more softly this time around. To wrap his fingers in your hair and later enclose them around your neck. Gently, but just hard enough to feel your pulse. The quiet beat, beating. 

You wouldn't always be this vulnerable, this open. Right now your trust was in the palm of his hand. This was his cue to pull you closer. He placed a gentle thumb on your bottom lip and you breathed out. 

"Stay, stay, stay," you said as you rubbed yourself against his leg. 

He loved you. You: it's such a simple word. How did a three-letter word make him think of three thousand different things? Your smile, your laugh, your voice. The tingles that were sent up his spine when you touched him. His heart skipped a beat when you looked at him. You, the girl who made him happy.

His eyes drifted down to yours, and it was over. His lips caught yours in a hard kiss, driving them apart with the force of it. Now, there was nothing gentle about it. You felt the sink creak as you shifted, him pressing you against it.

Every thought in your head exploded to a pure, pounding white, and you felt the dark curl of desire begin to twist inside you, bending all your rules, snapping that last trembling bit of restraint. 

It was just like it had been before you slid your hands under his shirt to press him closer. The low groan at the back of his throat, a small, pleading noise that set every inch of your skin on fire.

To him, you were an electrical storm dazzling with light and intensity and he would gladly stand like a fool, arm outstretched, just to be struck down by you.

So he told you he would stay. He said: "Okay."

Jisung watched you today. 

As you turned through the pages of the book, you cried. 

You looked beautiful as he watched the different stages of your emotions. And one day he wanted to make you feel all those things. 

Emotions were a beautiful thing and he wanted to thank you for showing them. When he saw you cry, he had to fight the urge to run toward you and hold you. It was in his natural instinct to do so, but he didn't want to ruin it. Ruin how beautiful your eyes were as they shed a tear over the story you lived, over a character you loved. 

He looked at a tree wistfully, trying to keep his mind busy away from you. But even the simplest thing as a tree, allowed memories to flow in, full force. 

He remembered when he was about fourteen he ran away from home for the first time. The reasoning was stupid, probably over a small argument between his parents—but all Jisung remembered was that he didn't know where to go. 

So he came and sat under a sycamore tree, the peculiar sun beaming down on him.

It turned out that he wasn't the only one with that idea.

Under the sycamore tree, he found you reading, your hair was messily thrown into a ponytail, unaware of his presence just yet. He wanted to run up to you and spill whatever it was inside his busy mind, but you looked too peaceful and he didn't want to ruin it. 

So instead, under the sycamore tree, he watched the stars and talked about the meaning of life with someone he truly cared about. Soon enough he would end up ranting to you, you’d listen, and he’d thank you for that.

Under the sycamore tree, he looked at you, his best friend who he had never really given a second thought to, and felt his heart turn. You began to be everything he had wanted. He watched the sun set on the most beautiful pair of eyes he had probably ever seen.

Have you ever seen your own eyes? They were rich and bright, he could get lost in them. But on that particular night, when the leaves were falling all around you, your eyes were just pure, radiant gold. He got lost in the shadows of those eyes for the first time.

Your eyes were his favorite, you know?

He shook that memory away.

As your watery eyes scanned the page, you laughed and then smiled. The type of smile that started off from the side of your face and then stretched out entirely. At that moment, he knew that he had to have you. 

And he guessed he wouldn't stop until he could wake up to that smile. 

If he was being honest, he always thought he'd be alone. Surely the two of you were going to be best friends forever, but he knew that you’d find someone who really loved you the way you wanted to be loved. And deep down he knew he was never a part of that equation. 

That's how he lived ever since he chose to forget, and to be honest he liked it until he saw you. Until he really saw you. 

When he was younger, he wasn't afraid of anything. But then, everything changed. Suddenly he started to think that, he wanted to be better—do better. For the first time, the idea of being alone began to scare him. It was on his mind and he never felt that kind of feeling—until he was almost paralyzed.

Until he was looking at the sunset, with you by his side, your head on his shoulder. You both watched all the colors melt and everything seemed calm at that moment.

And he felt like he could actually breathe. The stars started to appear and he could feel it in his soul. 

He felt alive.

Now, it was until he heard the soft sound of your laughter. How your cheeks turned rosy pink as you blushed over a character. And until he saw your emotions, how they all came from that one book. 

The Silence Between Two Special Songs.

He remembered saying how much he hated that book before… and suddenly you changed him. 

Had you ever felt that way? Have you ever had your entire perspective of something change so quickly because of a person? Of course, you had.

He didn't want to be alone anymore. Being alone seemed even more lonely. He just wanted you. So today, you fell in love with a book and he fell in love with you falling for a book. 

And it was bad because he couldn't get you out of his mind for the rest of the day. 

He’d focus on the sounds of the floorboard creaking as you did whatever you needed to do in your room. He’d hear your muffled laughter and conversations you had on your phone, even though he tried his best to drown it out.

Jisung was so hyperaware around you that it was driving him crazy. Everything about you was a reminder. His bed, his sheets, the movies he saw, the music he listened to—quite literally everything you had shared together was tainted with the memory of you.

It was all too much for him, especially with a song due in a couple of days. He needed to get his work done but you were just so distracting, and you didn't even know it. 

This resulted in him making his way over to his best friend’s apartment. They’d be home and working on what he needed to be doing too, so this was the only plausible option. 

Chan opened the front door wide enough to let him in, “Hey Ji.”

“Thanks for letting me crash here tonight, I just need a space to work tonight peacefully. My apartment was just so loud I couldn't think straight.” Jisung rambled. 

It was obvious by the way color came back to his face that he finally took a breath—one he had been holding in all fucking day. 

Aside from Minho, Chan was also a quick study, able to know when things just weren't okay. In his nature, he was a problem solver and always wanted to be of help, offering the best solutions. 

But with this came along with being aware and respectful of boundaries, which was why he stopped himself from questioning his obviously frantic friend.

He watched as Jisung set his bag down on the couch, unsure of how to correctly approach the situation. “Do you want to watch something before we work? Maybe a movie? Bin suggested this short film that he watched earlier today was good. We can watch that, yeah?” 

Chan grabbed the disc from the coffee table. It’d be best to get whatever it was off Jisung’s mind, he thought.

Jisung wanted to say no so he could just finish the song that was due. But if he was being honest with himself, his mind was not in the correct place. So he plopped down onto the couch, complying.

Luckily the movie lasted an hour. Changbin had come home midway, bearing some chicken and beer that Chan texted him privately about to bring. The sinister music played as the movie ended, and white credits rolled down the screen.

“And that my boys, is why falling in love with someone is a no-go.” Changbin crossed his arms together. 

Chan cleared his throat, sipping on his can of beer. “Actually, love is a pretty nice thing.”

Changbin rolled his eyes, knowing where this was headed. “Chan just because you’re dating my sister doesn't mean this doesn't apply to you too.”

“So you want me to break your sister’s heart, Binnie?”

“You can try all you want.” Changbin waved off, although he knew his friend wouldn't do it. And he was right, Chan would never break her heart. He loved her so much that it consumed him. 

They wouldn't know yet, but Jisung was all too familiar with that feeling. He bitterly laughed, “Changbin, come back to us when you fall in love with someone.”

It was comical, the way Changbin laughed from his side of the couch. “And what do you know about love, Jisung? The last girl you dated was during our first year and you got the biggest ick after.”

Jisung waited a few moments before dropping his shoulders. What did he know about love, he wondered. Despite his only relationship lasting a couple of months, he could confidently say that he never even thought about the idea of love with them.

It wasn't that he was too young, he already felt love way before that. And now, it kind of made sense to him. It seemed as though the category of love had always been tucked away safely for you, and only you.

He grabbed the remote, pausing the movie that ran through its credits. "I guess when you love someone, they become a part of who you are. They're in everything you do. They're in the air you breathe and the water you drink and the blood in your veins.” 

He thought about you. You became more deep and meaningful. And when he was with you, that was probably the highlight of his day, just sitting next to you in silence made him happy. 

Surely that was when it was supposed to hit him—that he was supposed to realize that he might love you more than a friend because he couldn't get rid of the knot in his heart that he constantly felt around you.

Now, every touch, every hug, became so precious to him, because he finally understood what was happening to him. So no, he wasn't too young to know about love. She just wasn't you.

Jisung continued to speak, “Their touch stays on your skin and their voice stays in your ears and their thoughts stay in your mind. You know their dreams because their nightmares pierce your heart and their good dreams are your dreams too.” He had a sad smile as he reminisced on the dreams he had that were so vivid. “And I guess, although they don't think they're perfect, you know their flaws, the deep-down truth of them, and the shadows of all their secrets, and they are perfect to you; in fact, you love them more for it. You want them. You want-”

He broke it off then, realizing his friends were looking at him.

"You want what?" Changbin’s looked at him with enormous eyes.

"Nothing," Jisung said. "I'm just talking." And he shut off the TV and picked up the empty boxes and cans of beer. "I'm going to throw these away," he said, and left.

Changbin looked over at Chan who was still in the midst of attempting to process what just happened. "When he falls in love, it's going to be like…wow."

"Of course, then we'll probably never see him again," said Chan, looking after his friend from afar, who was in the kitchen tying the trash bag closed. "Lucky girl, whoever she'll be."

It was nearly midnight by the time the boys began to finally work on their music. Of course soon after, much to their demise, Changbin made an excuse to grab something from his room and ended up passing out on his bed.

The remaining two decided against waking him up as he probably would’ve been groggy and of no help at all. Writing songs was something that they had all been used to for years but having the experience never made it any easier. 

“I never knew you knew so much about love, Hanji.” Chan abruptly stated, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. He needed to give his mind a break or else it would've overclocked.

Jisung’s eyes widened slightly, flustered by the sudden conversation. “Oh,” he shrugged. “I don't know that much.”

His friend staggered a laugh, unable to believe him after what he heard earlier. “You sure? You seemed to take the words right out of my mouth if I'm being honest.”

He rolled his eyes playfully now, “I suppose I watch a lot of dramas.”

“I mean, it starts out with friendship it always does. But then it starts to bloom into something more, right?” Chan continued disregarding his friend’s excuse. It caused Jisung to raise his eyebrows, unsure of where Chan was headed. “At first, it’s always pointless banter and small talk, but slowly it progresses into long conversations about your past, and what you want for the future.”  

He paused waiting for Jisung to respond, but he didn't.

Chan hummed, “Well, that was the case with me. I thought that maybe it was the same in the dramas…” He picked up his phone to reply back to his girlfriend.

Jisung was hesitant in what he was about to admit. He wasn't sure if this was wise of him, quite frankly, he was not confident in how it will play out.

 Nonetheless, he emitted a long, deep, audible breath, “I slept with Y/N.”

“Don't you always?” Chan was unbothered, still typing away.

“No, I slept with her.” Jisung reiterated it, slowly.

He looked up from his phone, frozen. “Wait, what?”

Jisung put his hands on his head. His brain felt like it was going to explode. “I fucked up. I know. But—”

“Jisung, you need to explain what you just said. You had sex with Y/N?” Chan sat up, adamant in trying to understand where this was coming from. There was no way he was lying, it was evident by the way he was acting. But sex? It was far from what he had expected.

The boy sighed, “Twice. We had sex twice.”

“Fuck Ji.” Chan stood up, his mouth covered by his hand. 

“I know but I think we could’ve had something real,” Jisung confessed. “Maybe I’m wrong, but I think she could’ve loved me.” His world began to spin and spin. “She meant a lot to me. Every smile, every glance from across a room, every time she made me laugh so hard I couldn’t breathe meant a lot to me,” he said and smiled, but his eyes were in the midst of collecting a few tears.

Chan bent down where Jisung sat, still trying to grasp the information he was told. He was aware of his friend's crackling emotions. “Do you guys like each other? Where did all of this suddenly come from?”

He bitterly chuckled, “She doesn't like me.”

You always seemed too good for Jisung, and that had nothing to do with how you looked. You always put three sugars in your coffee because you couldn’t stand the bitter taste alone and you often smelled like lavender because once you read somewhere that lavender made people happier, and you liked to see the people around you smile.

“Then how di-”

Jisung shook his head, not wanting to stop expressing the truth despite it all. “She’s in love with Hyunjin.” His voice curdled into jealousy.

Chan sighed at the news. But wasn't Hyunjin with Bora? He was so confused but Jisung had become a fragile vase and he was scared of breaking him by asking too many questions. 

“The worst part is, I think I could still have kissed her all day though,” Jisung continued quietly. “I could have swept back the loose strands of hair from her eyes and spent the morning just like that.” He quickly wiped his eyes, “And maybe it was because there was too much sadness in her heart, but she kissed like she needed to be kissed—like she was aching all over.”

One could see it in Jisung’s eyes. you both weren't quite friends anymore. You both had crossed such a big boundary. The way he smiled with you? Friends didn't smile like that. The way he put his hand on your back? Friends didn't touch each other like that. The way his face lit up when you spoke? Friends didn't look at each other like that. The way his voice changed when he said your name? Friends didn't talk like that. 

Slowly, everything started to make sense to his friend.

“You love her, don't you?”

"For me, it was never a case of loving her. I’ve loved her my entire fucking life and I have never stopped,” Jisung exhaled, running a hand down his face. “I tried to let her go before—I told myself to think about everything my feelings for her had done to hurt me, but all I can think about was my smile in the mornings and my laughs late at night.”

He let out a broken whisper, continuing. “She was the reason for that, she made my days better. Sure, people have bad days but in the end, the good always outweighed them.” He pulled onto the drawstring of his hoodie gently, “I guess what I'm trying to say is that she was my good and everything in between.”

In Jisung’s pitiful mind, no matter how much he knew you were a bad idea, he couldn't completely give up on you. In the back of his mind, he believed that this was his second chance to do it all over again… but correctly. Correct enough to the point where you would be his.

It could be six a.m. and all he’d want to do is lay next to you with your hands locked together, and legs intertwined. He’d want your face buried in his neck, and he’d want to listen to your breathing. 

He’d want you to wake up and tell him, "I'm so tired" because he’d want to whisper, "Go back to sleep" and he’d want to hold you tighter when you did.

He’d want to lie in bed alone with you, in the comforting quiet of the early morning hours, and maybe write a song in his dreams while you both slept. 

He wanted to be simple with you, and he wanted to be whatever you need him to be. Because it was real for him. 

He didn't know what it was for you. But for him, it was real. Everything meant more than it should have. So much that he was willing to be with you forever. And that's what hurt the most.

He looked at you with what ifs and could haves and hearts full of regret.

“Back in high school, I tried to write a song about her,” Jisung admitted.

Chan continued to be weary of what he said. He needed to make sure that it wouldn't end up being the wrong thing. “Tried? You mean you finished it but it wasn't good enough?” And although he had so many questions, the best thing he could do right there was to listen to the boy.

“No, I didn't even finish it. I stopped writing it because I was wrong.” He scoffed. “I was so completely wrong about it all.”

You see, Jisung thought he could make it beautiful. He thought he could tear himself apart and make a mosaic out of the pieces. He thought the heartbreak was temporary, that the words could be beautiful enough to show just how liberating love could be despite the pain. He thought he could have roses without thorns.

There was just so much Jisung could say to his friend that he could've spent hours talking about it. It wasn't wise for him to do so, his emotions were all over the place and he needed to calm down.

He let out a breath, "I don't know.” He slumped over against the couch, his arm resting against his side. "Is this a mistake?" 

It took Chan a few moments to respond. "Of course it is,” he hummed. Jisung felt his heart drop at his answer. “You’re getting involved with your best friend, don't look too shocked... But, who knows?” 

Chan was trying his best to find the right thing to say to him and the boy waited to take in every word. 

"Who knows if something good will happen—or something worse. All I'm trying to say is that it's okay if you don't know what to feel or if you don't know what you want. Sometimes it's okay to not want something you worked so hard on getting after realizing it wasn't what you thought it was.” Chan clarified.

Jisung sighed, “I’m just scared.”

"It’s okay to be scared. You can change your mind or make however mistakes you want. It's your life and you don't need validation from anyone other than you." Chan patted his thigh, gently, giving him a soft smile. "But I just want you to know that it’s not selfish to love yourself, to take care of yourself, and make your happiness a priority." 

Jisung’s body began to heat up, his friend was right. 

It was four in the morning when he answered your text. He was sprawled out on the couch, wrapped in a blanket Chan had given him. After his conversation with him, Jisung was left with a much more sensible head than the one he came with. 

His eyes felt heavy and he just wanted slumber to come up and whisk him away. 

It was annoying though, every time he closed his eyes, he still thought of you. Everything was still fresh and maybe he needed time to figure things out more. 

Many years later and he still stayed up at night, your smile and laughter etched in his mind, wondering where you were and what you were doing, he’d smile to himself thinking of the memories with you. His heart yearned for you, to hold you close to him right now. 

You replied right as he was falling asleep. He sighed and read your message. 

you: you're up? 

The only people actually up this late were either heartbroken or in love. He rubbed his sleepy eyes and wrote back. 

jisung: yes. need to talk?

And you did. The both of you texted for what felt like hours and soon enough he could see the sky beginning to lighten from the living room window. 

He hugged the blanket tighter to his chest. When was he going to ever listen to something other than his heart? Because he loved you and he almost laughed at the thought of ever stopping.

It wasn't until five a.m. he realized that you were fast asleep and he wasn't. He was right back to where he was, every time. It seemed as though he had taken one step forward and two steps back.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to love you like this again. And he’d kept trying to make his love for you go away, he swore. But how do you kill a feeling? 

You still lived in the silence between his thoughts.

The only people up this late were the heartbroken and in love. And pathetically so, he was both.

let me know your thoughts about this chapter! i’m interested to hear your opinions :) stay healthy <3

masterlist

taglist: (pls lmk if i missed you or if ur interested!)

@hyynee @keilykat @chxrry-holland @sikebishes @soobin-chois @drhsthl​ @ooshanaya @rindomo @chxrry-chris

#stray kids #skz han jisung #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz #han jisung #han jisung fanfic #han jisung smut #han jisung imagines #han jisung x reader #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin imagines #series #friends to lovers #chapter 3

[lady-of-imladris]

Heyyy pls could u tell us more about the baking season? What do h guys bake?

hi babe! SO. Baking. In Austria. During December. A HUGE THING!!!

The gist of it: Get your grandma and be prepared to labour in the kitchen for DAYS. Always have softened butter on hand, and more nuts and chocolate than you think you'll ever need!

So basically the goal is to bake a TON of different tiny little treats, throw them all together into a box and it's called "Krapferl" or "Weihnachtskrapferl" (Weihnachten is Christmas in German). Krapferl are apparently also a wedding tradition? I did not know that!

(additional info: The Germans call it "Weihnachtsbäckerei". They. Are. Wrong)

Also the thing with Krapferl is they. Dont. Go. Bad. You have that stuff the WHOLE month as a little afternoon treat!

Lots of pics and descriptions under the cut!

So this is a generic picture of Krapferl, as you can see there is a lot of chocolate involved! Some classic ingredients are: chocolate, jam (usually apricot), coconut?, and NUTS. A LOT. of nuts. You might be wondering about the pink stuff. PUNSCHKRAPFERL!!

Let's get into some classics.

The first thing one usually thinks of when it comes to Krapferl is Vanillekipferl (Vanilla Crescents??)

They contain almonds and ...vanilla!! The trick with these is to make them in advance because they are crumbly as fuck when fresh!

Another classic: Linzeraugen (Auge is Eye and Linz is a city in Austria. Weird name)

The dough is basic and then you just put a cookie, top it with apricot jam and then for the "lid" you have another cookie except you have some holes (or only one hole, or a star or heart...) in the top.

Now the DOUGH. You can make a lot of different Krapferln with this dough by simply adding chocolate or nuts or something, but you might get called lazy by my grandmother because if you only have to make one dough IT DOESNT COUNT!!!

My personal favourite (and also what I made this week): Honigschnitten (Honig is honey and Schnitten is just the shape)

THESE are SO GOOD!!!!

It's layers of a dough that contains honey and layers of vanilla buttercream topped with chocolate and they are THE TASTIEST LITTLE FUCKERS!!!!! But really hard to make (I have blisters from rolling out the dough!!). Depending on what recipe has been passed down from GENERATIONS in your family, the dough might contain chocolate, the buttercream may contain chocolate. IDK but whatever old lady you ask, if you didn't use HER recipe, you did it wrong.

Punschkrapferl (Punsch is a type of alcohol?)

MUST be pink!! I think it's sponge cake?? filled with chocolate, jam and rum

While we're at the topic of rum... RUMKUGELN (Rum balls)

These are basically chocolate and rum, rolled in either coconut or chocolate sprinkles. They are a TRAP for children!! Because you see the chocolatey goodness and think it will taste good but theres SO MUCH ALCOHOL IN THEM!!! They may also contain a cherry (or a sour cherry?), be careful not to bite down on the pit!

I THINK those are the most basic ones? Pretty sure I could go on for another hour or so (I'm procrastinating on an assignment anyway)

#star <3

[winterstares]

Hbomberguy's video really resonated with one of my video projects.

For context:

I've been working on a video about OFF (The game), specifically about its fandom and how it exploded in popularity around 2013-14, with receips, because not many people remember the huge popularity that the game had back in the day and how we can see some fandom stuff that happened in the OFF fandom that we can still see happening in fandoms now a days.

Anyways, my main problem about the video is its introduction, because OFF as a game doesn't really have a lot of information? Mostly because of its simplicity and the fact that when the game came out, it wasn't very generalized to talk about the background and making of a game. (Even more when it comes to RPGmaker-type games, with many creators remaining as anonymous as possible even now a days).

So, whenever I try to look up the basics of the game, to make a proper introduction of it for any viewer who might stumble into my video without knowing the game, I always find the same information copypasted. Even video essays, both in english and spanish have pretty much the same info and order of telling it, because that information is pretty straight forward and adding more stuff in between makes it sound weirdy clogged.

And because I'm actually worried of plagiarizing something, I have been procrastinating the introduction of the video for ages.

Because, in a fandom where there is so little information, where is the line drawn? There is only so many ways you can introduce a game and its creators without it being seen as plagiarism. And the story and mechanics of the game are simple enough to not need any more tangents to explain them. But everyone else before has been saying exactly the same.

There is also this misinformation chunk about the creators and what they added to the game? I don’t have mi investigation at hand, but usually only one of the guys who worked in OFF gets the credit, while the other is barely mentioned in some videos or wikis. So that’s something I can add in between to show I investigated about the game, but I still worry about being accused of copying the introductions because I’m a small channel just talking about shit I like, and just recently there has been a couple of new videos talking about OFF made by bigger channels, so if I ever got accused of something like that, I fear the repercussions.

Anyways, this was mostly my anxiety talking, but I had to get it out somewhere lol.

#hbomberguy #off game #video essay #wintertalks

[dakotafinely]

Hi! Offering support after I heard what happened <:3

May I suggest a Rise!Leo x Hispanic!Reader oneshot? Sorry if that's not your thing, just...ever since I saw a headcanon post on it I couldn't get over it! X3

Feel free to ignore! Sorry for the bother...

Is this finally addressed after months of it being in my inbox? Yes, but that's because I'm a procrastinator to the worst degree. And this was sent in right before I closed my inbox (due to stuff that was going on) and I wanted to answer when I finally felt comfortable opening my inbox up again.

And pssssh, I have not done a x Reader in a while! And I certainly don't mind doing one again! I honestly enjoy x Readers, not because I really ship myself with characters- rarely ever if I do -but because I'm a sap who enjoys love! Love is cute, platonic, romantic, family, pets, oiuhghjkjnhj but anyways. I'll stop my rambling and finally get into this. Thank you flounderdoodles! Sorry it took so long to address your ask! It was never a bother and I am grateful you sent it!

== == ==

Leo knew Spanish. Leo LOVED Spanish, he adored the language like he was the one that made it. Though, growing up he was the only who really learned it. Sure, Mikey picked up words and phrases from Leo because of how much Leo used them. And Raph will indulge Leo's practicing of the language the best he can. While Donnie tried to find the best books and websites to learn Spanish growing up for the Red Earred Slider. But they never took time to learn it like Leo did. It was always his own little thing.

He got so used to it being his language and his alone with his family. He never even considered that you, being Hispanic with native speaking parents, would know it. Because despite how clever and witty Leo could be, sometimes he forgot to put two and two together to make four.

And that's what lead to now. To you trying to figure out how to tell Leo you knew what he's been saying to you for the past week. Without freaking him out.

It started with a nickname. Not the most obvious one like mi amor, or even mi querido. No, it started with mi dulce.

At first you thought you were hearing things. That maybe you misheard Leo when he spoke.

"Can you repeat that?" You asked, helping Mikey put away the dishes. Leo looked surprised you even heard him, trying to speak the words under his breath.

"Ah, psh, nothing!" Leo brushed it off, leaving the kitchen after grabbing a water.

So you shook it off. Until you heard it again, clearly, with Leo being a bit bolder about it. After all, he had nicknames in many different forms for his brothers and April. And he liked you, so why shouldn't he give you nickname? You just didn't expect it to be so... sweet. To be called his sweet exactly.

Then came mi girasol, when you came in one day wearing a yellow sweater. And he told you that you looked like his sunflower. You had to excuse yourself to the restroom to get yourself together.

At first you were conflicted about telling him or not. Not because you were opposed to the nicknames, and what they meant in terms of his feelings towards you. In fact it was quite the opposite, you has quite the crush on the turtle. So when this started happening you were ecstatic. But you didn't want him to panic about it. Plus, what if all this time you were wrong about his feelings about you? That these were just supposed to be friendly nicknames, not loving like you had hoped.

Still, you wanted to know. You wanted the truth, to ease your mind. You just hoped that he meant them the way you took them.

You walked into the lair hands shaking. You were so nervous, your mind telling you all the ways this could go wrong as you made your way to the kitchen. Instantly hit with the smell of sweets, it was Mikey. Dancing around to create something wonderful, like he was most days that you visit.

"Hey Mike," you greet, Mikey turning to you with a smile as he puts down the measuring cup he was about to use.

"What's up?" He asks rubbing his hands together to brush off the flour on them. Mikey can't keep still however as he goes to grab a pot, redirecting his train of thought due to your interruption.

"Ah well," you took hesitance, wanting for moment to chicken out and instead ask Mikey what he was making. But you shake your head, no, you hadn't spent so long hyping yourself up for this just to waste it last minute. You clear your throat "where's Leo? I need to talk to him for a sec." to which Mikey looks at you, slightly concerned.

"Oh, I really wouldn't recommend it right now," Mikey says putting the small pot on the stove "he's kinda sulking." he comments facing the stove. Picking the measuring cup up once again to dip it in the bag of sugar he had open.

"Why's he sulking?" You asked concerned. Mikey shrugged "Something April told him, he wouldn't tell the rest of us..." Mikey trailed "maybe you should talk to him actually, you always seem to cheer him up!" Mikey says shooting you another smile over his shoulder. With a knowing wink before focusing on the task at hand. You blush a bit. Of course Mikey knew you had a crush on Leo, he probably knew if Leo had a crush on you too. You and him bonded over being the youngest siblings of your respective households. And that meant bonding over almost always knowing the drama going on in the house like a fly on the wall.

You make your way to Leo's room. Lightly knocking on the curtain that separated his room from the hallway. You hear him groan.

"Raph I said I don't wanna talk about it! Go away!" You hear him shout before shuffling. You clear your throat again, a tight knot finding it's way into your throat.

"It's me actually," you call out. Hearing the comedic noise of Leo falling of his bed and scrambling to the door. A small chuckle escapes you as Leo throws open the curtain. Your worries melting away as you lock eyes with him, the way they always do when you see him.

"Hey," Leo breaths out. Causing you to chuckle.

"I don't leave you that breathless do I?" You joke to ease your nerves. But Leo tenses, usually the banter would be natural for you two. Something the red earred slider adored about you was your wit.

But after what April told him...

She mentioned in passing to him earlier that day that you'd been helping her in Spanish. You taking the class for an easy A. That you had native Spanish speaking parents so you had no issues helping her with her homework. April didn't know about the sappy nicknames. Leo thought no one knew. That it was his little secret he'd rather take to his grave then confess to you to only get rejected.

But instead you knew the whole time. And with that knowledge it only confirmed his fears when you never told him that you knew what he was even saying the whole time. Clearly you must've been playing oblivious because you didn't want to have to reject him right?

Leo wanted you in his life. In any way he could. You were to wonderful to loose. And if that meant giving a proper confession so you could reject him and then continue being friends without making you feel awkward with all his sappy nicknames. Then Leo was willing to make that sacrifice.

"Más de lo que sabes," Leo whispered. Catching you off guard with the softness of his voice. A blush covering your face faster then you could blink. While Leo stood there and looked at you, the love for you welling in his eyes so much you could actually see it this time.

"What?" You can't help but let it out as a breathless laugh. You had it all planned out how you were going to confess, both you knowing Spanish, and your very large crush on Leo. But you're brain completely blanked at his words.

"Me quitas el aliento, más de lo que podrías saber," Leo stated, the nervousness of his confession clear in his stance. Hands clasped together, stiff as a board, the complete opposite of his usual lackadaisical manner. Your breath hitches at his words. Staring at him with wide eyes. Leo lets out a sigh "Eres tan encantadora, tan amable, tan comprensiva e ingeniosa. ¿Cómo no me quitaste el aliento, mi amor?" he asks, making your knees weak.

Your mind blanks completely. Unable to form the words you needed to respond. Reeling, you tried to get yourself together

"April told me you know Spanish..." Leo told you "I know you don't feel the same but, hey! Figured I might as well let it all out in the open!" Leo tried to be light hearted about it. Sending you finger guns. But the stress of waiting your response sat clear on his face. Nonexistent eyebrows pressed together and smile shaky.

"I- just, um, I-" You stumbled over your brain trying to figure out what to say.

"It's fine, really! I already get that you don't like me that way, so, ya know," Leo continued movements awkward and stiff. Despite believing the rejection to come, he didn't want to hear the words. As if that would lessen the blow for him somehow.

"No! No that's not it," You say, your brain finally catching up to you. Leo looking at you with a confused smile. Still shaking with the fear inside him, you gave a calming sigh "I... También me gustas, Leo. Tengo por un tiempo," you confess to him, with a small shrug. Leo gives you a blank stare, brain taking a minute to load what you just said.

"You... you like me too?" He asks in disbelief, the joy coming onto him suddenly. Lighting up like a christmas tree, you can't help but giggle and nod as he picks you up joyfully. Him laughing joyously as he twirls you.

"Leo! Leo put me down you're gonna make me sick!"

"Never! ¡Me amas! ¡Me amas!" Leo cried jumping up and down before listening to you. Setting you down gently. You can't help another giggle and pull him in. Gently kissing him on the cheek. Leo holds his cheek, sighing sappily.

"What's going on here? Why is Leo screaming in another language?" Raph asks, walking in with confusion and concern on his face. You can't help a small blush of embarrassment. You didn't mean to cause a ruckus.

"[Y/n] me ama..." Leo sighs dreamily.

== == ==

I don't speak Spanish, so all of the Spanish parts are done via google translate. If they seem wonky or weird, it's probably because of that. Again thanks for the ask! I hope this was to your satisfaction, I'm kinda rusty on writing X Readers but I enjoyed getting back into it for this ask.

#rottmnt #rot tmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leo #rise leo #rottmnt fan fic #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt leo x reader #ask #ask response #thanks for the ask!

[the-travelling-witch]

Holllyyy!!!😭

God I missed you and Tumblr🥺

I'm finally out of the shackles of 'Summer Classes' at my university, and so I have time to myself again.

Plus! I saw that you have 5.7k words on a fic? I hope it is what I think it is😏

Ahhhhhh I'm so excited!!!

Anyways, lemme get my usual, a lovely Cinnamon Spice Milk Tea, and one lovely conversation to catch up☕

Question of the day: (You can even make it a small drabble/fic if you want )

I've recently really been in a whole Genshin guys as dad's kinda state...like some on, you cant tell me Diluc drinking grape juice with his daughter/son or even Thoma cooking with his kid strapped to his back WOULDN'T BE ADORABLE😭😭❤❤❤

So my question is, who do you think would make the best dads? Or like what would they be like as dads? Imagine Xiao making a small accessory out of leaves for his baby to protect them when he's away...lords...imma just cry😭💕

-Cookie Customer🍪

cookie!!! i’m sorry i’ve taken so long with this, there’s literally no excuse for that ㅠㅠ

i’ve missed you and tumblr too but somewhere between writing my last fic and my vacation i’ve adopted my irl “don’t talk unless spoken to” attitude, so the blog’s gone a little quiet; i’m working on new fics though and i’m hoping for the most productive flight ever >///<

5.7k… i was so naive… war flashbacks to proofreading it but i’m still really proud of myself for writing that, so thank you for requesting, couldn’t have done it without you <3 if you missed the 11.6k monster, here

while you’re tea is brewing, let me tell you something: i think i know why i procrastinated on this ask for so long and it’s because i do not like the thought of having kids; sure they’re cute and all but i like giving them back after a couple of hours, if a fluff fic has pregnancy in the tags or there’s a child involved, i’m out ㅠㅠ ironic isn’t it

but, for you, i’ll try my best (this is not in order or anything) ♡

childe: honestly one of the best, if not the best, dad on this list i’m biased okay, despite his job and being seldom home, he still grew up with three younger siblings and learned early how to take care of them; also, his love for his family knows no bounds, so if there’s something he doesn’t know he will do his research to best provide for all of your needs also spoils all of you ㅠㅠ; the type to have multiple children (maybe two or three?)

diluc: why can i see diluc’s son playing the violin perfectly at age seven and knowing like five languages by the age of ten? sure, diluc will definitely pay for higher education but i think his child would probably be a high-achiever/ gifted kid (we’re not diving into where that’s coming from or if that’s healthy here); he still has the stoic face but he loves you both very dearly and could not be prouder if his kid achieves literally anything; i imagine him having an only child? would absolutely spoil his daughter

thoma: perfect househusband, next—

thoma: somehow the vision of thoma with two equally bright blonde twin sisters just popped into my head and we’re rolling with it; i can absolutely see them cooking/baking together “we’re going to make a delicious meal for mommy/daddy when they come home”; pouts when they’re more excited to see auntie ayaka and auntie yoimiya (ayato just gently pays him on the back to console him while the girls are running around)

venti: oh no, pray that the child doesn’t take after him— i’m partly joking but can you imagine the chaos if his child inherited his anemo powers? with venti as the dad?? he’d be like the mean girls mom “you’re doing great sweetie” while you’re running around trying to get your child off the roof he’d never put them in any danger though and always looks out of them, sometimes when his child is asleep, he gently cradles them against his chest and and reflects on how he’d never thought he’d come to this point, feels incredibly lucky to have you both in his life; prettiest self-written lullabies!!

albedo: i’m not entirely sure if albedo actually could have a child of his own but regardless i think he’d be super up to the idea of adoption either way; does safe science experiments with them and softly smiles at their reactions even if they’re just fascinated by the pretty colours and not by the actual science; the dad with a fuck ton of parenting books; he’s taken care of klee for a long time, so he knows what he’s doing (no klee, a bomb is not an appropriate gift for a five year old)

kaeya: another one who did not see himself with a kid ever but he’s absolutely thriving, he’s the soccer mom “yes honey, go kick his ass!”, will do his daughter’s hair no questions asked, if someone ever rudely comments on his child’s skin tone he will throw more than just hands; his kid can fight and won’t take shit from anyone, don’t even try to convince me otherwise

xiao: when you tell him you’re pregnant/ want to adopt, he panics, how should he take care of a tiny child?? but after a bit of reassurance he calms down and swears to give it his all and give it his all he does, ngl he’s a bit overprotective at first but soon learns that his kid is a bit more capable and doesn’t need to be handled with satin gloves (almost had a heart attack when they fell down the stairs or hit their head under the table and just continued on, yk typical kid stuff), makes little adepti charms for them (also when they were still a baby, handmade a mobile for them, so cute >///<)

zhongli: sophisticated and more elegant than your average adult, flawless manners and eloquent vocabulary, everyone in liyue harbor takes one look at the child and they’re like “yeah, that’s zhongli’s alright”; they have daily tea times together and he tells them stories about liyue; would be proud of them whether they have his powers or not; gardening together!!

kazuha: calm, both he and the kid; let’s his kid express themselves as freely as they want; teaches them how to make music with leaves and stuff; thrilled when they’re showing interest in poems and books but won’t push it on them; his kid is very in tune with nature and super respectful to all living beings except for authorities, already accepted as a member of the crux, auntie beidou!!

ayato: rewrites all his schedules to have enough time for his child, does paperwork with them on his lap and pretends to not notice them chewing on the end of his pen; also manners!! in public they’re all proper posture and formal and stuff but as soon as they’re home, they just plop down on the couch and melt into the cushions and gossip over some of the stupid stuff the politicians or whoever said

aether: very much also a nature kid, climbing trees, picking up every type of bug they find and bleeding knees every day; personality takes after auntie lumine, goody two-shoes outside, sassy as hell on the inside, if it’s not forbidden, it’s allowed; i can’t decide whether i want him to have one child or twins bc i can see him having twins with like opposite dynamics kinda like him and lumine but is that uncreative?

okay, that’s it, i don’t have any more dad!shin thoughts at the moment, let me know what your personal headcanons are!! ♡ i had a concept at first and then threw it out the window after like three headcanons

#coffee & tea break #my regulars ♡ #letter from: the lovely cookie customer 🍪 ✿ #genshin impact #childe #diluc #thoma #venti #albedo #kaeya #xiao #zhongli #kazuha #ayato #aether #genshin headcanons #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #thoma x reader #venti x reader #albedo x reader #kaeya x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #kazuha x reader #ayato x reader #aether x reader

[thessalian]

Thess vs The Unexpected

I mean, the work day wasn't unexpected. I got left with the lion's share of the fiddly annoying bullshit, which I finished ... well, more or less on time, since the grand finale for the afternoon was a seventeen-minute monstrosity by The Breast Guy. I was just about to start that off and praying I'd finish at least more or less by 5pm when my mobile rang - my stepfather. He's been at the other flat a lot lately, which means hey, great, maybe something's going to happen and this one will start getting renovated soon! (Though watch; I'm going to end up living back at the other flat for another three-plus years while he procrastinates. But at least he's doing stuff and I might be able to have an actual shower and non-leaky faucets sometime before 2025.) Anyway, I probably sounded frazzled, since his first response was, "Sorry to disturb". Then he asked if he could drop something off and I was like, "...Okay, sure", while wondering what the hell he could possibly be wanting to drop in my general direction.

The answer? ...Cutlery, apparently. They got new cutlery for themselves and thought I might like their old set (or, well, part of their old set, because I am highly unlikely to ever need more than four place settings at a go).

No, see, as may have been gathered by this point, the parentals have a lot more money than I do. This is why I tend to ask for things like cookware as Christmas and birthday gifts - they can afford the good stuff and understand this stuff as an investment. You know, better to have a really good pot that you may not have to replace in your entire lifetime than have a cheap piece of crap that'll be unusuable in a couple of years. The "Vimes 'Boots' Theory of Socio-Economic Unfairness" as applied to cookware. Now, when I was first living on my own, I had cheap crappy aluminium cutlery with about the heft of the average chewing gum wrapper (and almost the same ability to bend). But I graduated from that, in a sense - really good sale on a cutlery set at Habitat. So I have some pretty solid cutlery but not ... you know, The Best. The parentals, however? Probably not The Absolute Best either, but I have always been rather admiring of their cutlery. It is some solid shit, lemme tell you. So I guess they remembered how much I liked theirs and thought I would give it a good home. Which I obviously will, because if there's one thing my ongoing cookery kick has taught me, it's the benefits of having good shit in the kitchen.

Long story short, that cheered me up enough to get through the seventeen-minute monstrosity with ... okay, I was only really tempted to fling the laptop at the nearest wall once. So that's a win. I still hurt like hell, mind, and I'm counting the days to my week off (a little under two weeks and counting - my birthday present to myself every year), but there was a bright spot. New kitchenware has that effect. I got myself a wok recently, and my next purchase is going to be a 9" by 13" baking tin, which I need for a specific Baking Yesteryear dessert. (Actually for a lot of Baking Yesteryear desserts. Also brownies.) Also, bright spot in that the workday is over and after a little bit of time to let some of the OW fade, I will be making gluten-free fish fingers (well, technically cod goujons, but that's a wee bit pretentious) and relaxing with a little bit of Baldur's Gate 3 or something.

#Thess has a day job #Thess has parental units #Thess cooks

[linzerj]

20 Questions for Writers

I was tagged by @sinvulkt for this 20 Questions for Writers ask game!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

On AO3... i only have 12 currently. (On FFN however... I have 67 lol)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

107,857

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Primarily Marvel nowadays, specifically Doctor Strange (MCU)! But I've also consistently written for Danny Phantom, and also delved into Pokemon, Teen Titans, TMNT, Warriors Cats and Twilight back in the day... its a lot lol.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Golden Gate's Heroes - a Venom and Ant-Man/MCU crossover from before NWH/Venom 2. It has 2,238 kudos as of posting!

Displaced Phantom - a DP and MCU crossover, 577 kudos

Stars Will Light the Way - What If...? Strange Supreme met America Chavez? The longest fic I've posted lol, 476 kudos

alive - an introspective look at Mewtwo, assuming the one from Detectice Pikachu is the same as the one from Pokémon: The First Movie, 420 kudos

through the multiverse - connected drabbles following the Guardians of the Multiverse from the first season of What If...? 329 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! Sometimes I might not see it or forget to reply if I don't reply right away lol, but I love engagement on my fics and I always want to make sure I thank everyone for reading!

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uh. Hmm. I actually... don't know? Maybe one of my post-Infinity War pre-Endgame Doctor Strange fanfics, like Eidetic or death is an old friend? Just because they end with Infinity War and that was tbh a kinda angsty ending...  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably has to be Stars Will Light the Way, tbh. Most of my fics are fairly "happy" tbh but so many are oneshots and anthologies, that this seems like the best pick.

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

I've gotten maybe one "hate" comment, just telling me my pacing was too slow for their liking or something like that lol. But generally, my audience has been very nice!

9. Do you write smut?

Nope!

10. Do you write crossovers?

OH YEAH!! A good chunk of my old fanfics on FFN were crossovers lol. Actually my first several fics were all crossovers I'm pretty sure. I love a good crossover...

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I am aware of... and don't get any ideas folks!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Um... no, I don't think so!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Nope!

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

Uhhhh.... hmmm.... its hard to say. I am very much a multishipper - I'll ship one guy with quite a few other characters if the dynamic could even conceivably work. But I also tend to prefer gen-fic or found family fics too...? But um. Uh. All-time favorite ship is probably Eddie/Venom. I will not elaborate further.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Gosh ok it's this Blue Beetle fic, with Jaime from the Young Justice cartoon swapping places with Jaime from the movie. I just... idk how I want to end it so it's been sitting on my laptop, mostly untouched since like. September or October of 2023. Whoops...

16. What’s your writing strengths?

Idk lol, um... getting into the heads of the characters I write?? I've been told that I can capture certain characters really well, at least.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

Fight scenes can be a little tough for me to write... but also. I procrastinate on writing sometimes, and i'm terrible at planning fics out fully before i start them... so if I don't write scenes and ideas down, they're gone, and then I don't know what to write for my fic, and then the fic never gets finished 🙃

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Eh, depends on the language - I took enough Spanish to be able to pull it off, I think, and I also have a few coworkers who speak Spanish fluently who will make sure I'm doing it right if/when I use it. Other than that, I'm not sure if I trust Google Translate enough to write dialogue in any other language...

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Omg... apparently... it was a crossover between Danny Phantom and Warriors (the books about the cats)... I figured it would be Danny Phantom but that. That is hilarious to me. I really was a Warriors Cats kid....

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

It's gotta be Stars Will Light the Way. Idk man, it just... it may not be as popular as Golden Gate's Heroes, but it's currently the longest fic I've ever written and published and FINISHED, and im so proud of that. The fact that even 400+ people liked it enough to give it a kudos... I wrote that fic for me, so to know others liked it too means the world to me.

I know you're supposed to tag people for these things, but. I always feel like I'm bothering people when I do. Even though some of my mutuals, I know y'all write fic... so if you see this and want to go for it, any of my mutuals or followers, go for it, consider yourself tagged!

#linz rambles #linz answers #ask game #fanfiction #writing #my stuff #hey while youre here. consider checking out my fics if you havent already ;)

[squarebracketsmileyface]

do u still want songs bc.. don't blame me by james marriott is kina a sorry its locked song

I'm always in need of songs, and oh my GOD how did I not already put this one in the playlist holy shit. It's so fucking perfect, like wtf how did I not think of it myself, you're a genius.

And now I begin a too long analysis of the lyrics in relation to Sorry It's Locked, because I can't help myself and it's the only way I can explain how perfect this song is for Jay and Alex in that damn fic.

You touch me too softly And I know what that means That you don't really love me As morose as it seems

Jay knows, deep down, that Alex being all sweet to him, kissing him on the cheek and the top of the head and cuddling him and all that, doesn't actually mean that Alex loves him. He's hopeful, he wants to believe it, but he knows deep down that Alex doesn't really love him and that it's all either to make him feel better, or to build him up so that Alex can tear him down all over again.

Alex rarely ever touches him softly, that's not their thing, so the sudden change (outside of, like, aftercare after scenes) is super noticeable and instead of being like "Oh maybe he likes me" it just highlights to Jay how Alex doesn't really love him.

When I leave I'll pull on the last of our strings And you'll see That there's always the next thing There's always the next thing

This bit feels more like Alex's thoughts about the whole thing, he's pulling on all the strings of Jay's love and affection so that he can break his heart and "save him" from everything by making him hate him enough to finally actually leave for good and stop trying to help. "There's always the next thing" is Alex trying to force Jay to move on. Obviously that doesn't happen, Jay's completely infatuated and no matter how badly Alex hurts him he'll always want to come back and help him.

From Alex's perspective he's doing something good, breaking Jay's heart by getting his hopes up and then dashing them is for the greater good, it's to save Jay from the Operator. He's giving Jay the chance to live, to move on and find "the next thing".

I'm cutting our ties That's all I can do (Don't blame me) Don't act surprised It's only for you (Don't blame me)

This bit is very Sorry It's Locked, like, this perfectly explains Alex's fucked up thought process about everything he's doing (literally, this explains it better than I did in the Alex pov fic I wrote to try and explain Alex's thinking lmao (in my defence tho, I wrote it to try and fix my procrastination so it was never gonna be great))

The best of our times were the worst of your life Tell me who you're lying to Cover your eyes but peer through the lines 'Cause when I cry, it's only for you

Ouch "The best of our times were the worst of your life" literally just the perfect explanation of Jay and Alex's relationship. Jay's lying only to himself when he tries to act like there was anything good about that relationship and like it wasn't something they both should have called off way before they did (or shouldn't have started in the first place)

All I did was agree To mask all the missteps for our chemistry Was it all you had dreamed? Was I all you hate but you knew that I'd be

This whole bit honestly feels like they'd be sung by both of them (why is this suddenly a duet? Why are they suddenly in a musical? God knows, it's the only way I can explain how this song fits them lol) Like, they both hid how their relationship wasn't healthy, mostly by just not talking about it and acting like they were just friends when they were with their other friends.

"Was it all you had dreamed?" Again, both of them. They knew neither of them were going to change. Jay realised early on that he wasn't going to get anything real with Alex, but he stayed anyway and that kinda made him hate Alex (just in a way that even Jay himself doesn't really realise it's resentment). Alex realised too late that Jay wasn't going to change, that he wasn't going to hate him no matter how much he tries, but he keeps trying to make him hate him anyway.

They were both exactly what they knew they'd be to each other, and they hated it but there was nothing they could do to change it.

I'm cutting our ties That's all I can do (Don't blame me) Don't act surprised It's only for you (Don't blame me)

The best of our times were the worst of your life Tell me who you're lying to Cover your eyes but peer through the lines 'Cause when I cry, it's only for you

Same as above.

No, this path never stops And I'm already sick of the next mountain top No, this high couldn't last In a moment it'll move on and stay in the past

Jay. JAY.

Even back in uni he was so sick of the way his not-relationship with Alex made him feel. They fucked -> he felt amazing -> they went their separate ways -> Jay felt like absolute shit because he knew it'd never mean to Alex what it meant to him. He was just on a constant rollercoaster of the highest highs plummeting into the lowest lows, but the adrenaline of the climb and the drop was so exhilarating (and all that he knew) that it just kept him on the rollercoaster indefinitely.

Then Alex moved away, and uni ended, and for Jay everything was finally gonna be in the past and he could move on. Except he didn't move on because he was unfortunately still infatuated with Alex, hence why all the relationships he tried to have after Alex just didn't work and were only ever about sex.

I have now decided that Jay never kissed any of the people he had relationships with after Alex.

We were never in love So when we were fucking who were you thinking of? No, I'm never enough And I'll fall from your hands straight into your gloves

Again. JAY.

They were never in love and he knew and knows that, but god if he doesn't wish that wasn't true.

Second line... ow. We know exactly who Alex was supposedly thinking of: Amy. (he wasn't thinking of Amy, he just said that to hurt Jay. Dude practically forgot that Amy existed once he had Jay back)

"No, I'm never enough" Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay J

My poor baby and his absolutely dogshit self confidence.

No, this path never stops And I'm already sick of the next mountain top No, this high couldn't last In a moment it'll move on and stay in the past

We were never in love So when we were fucking who were you thinking of? No, I'm never enough And I'll fall from your hands straight into your gloves

Same as above :]

#this song is so fucking perfect for these two though. Like i'm actually going insane its so THEM and it hurtssssssssssssss. #Whoever you are. you're a genius #thank you so much i will be listening to this song on loop for the next 5 business days while crying over my babygirls #jay merrick #alex kralie #jaylex #marble hornets #marble hornets fanfic #song analysis I guess #ask #MH sorry its locked

[earlgreytea68]

I was tagged by @thatbluelight!

writing questions tag game

what is your absolute all-time favorite idea you’ve ever had?

the last idea I had

what is your favorite part of being a writer? which parts could you take or leave?

oh, god, my absolute favorite part is hanging out in a world I get to create with a bunch of people I like and making them so happy. That sounds very abstract, so I'll say that I love to write dialogue, I love to write a good argument, and I love to write afterglow scenes. I also love whenever a moment happens that makes me love a character I'm writing because then I think, oh, good, it makes sense their love interest will also love them. That doesn't always happen, but usually there's a moment when they click into place in a story. I usually keep writing until I find it, tbh. This is why I write my characters' random interactions in so much detail and seldom fade a conversation to black, because I'm looking for that moment of connection. I see writers sometimes say they don't like writing, they like having written, but I actually really enjoy the writing bit. My favorite thing is when I can clear a day and just sit and write (as long as I'm in the middle of a story that I'm enjoying). I just wish I could do it faster than my fingers let me type. (someone's going to tell me that's what AI is going to do or something)

The parts I could take or leave: editing, which I despise doing so much that I have written whole entire new novels in order to avoid editing, so at least it's productive procrastination; plotting, which I hate so I just never do it hahaha my theory is the characters will do what they want and it will all work out in the end; outlining, which I also never do, because see previous point; writing sex scenes, which just feel like they're so hard to make new (same with kiss scenes, too, tbh); describing things (probably connected to the previous point).

what is your greatest motivation to write/create?

I write the things I want to read, because nobody else wrote them first and so I decide I have to do it.

what do you wish you knew when you first starting out writing?

that it's okay to have your own style and to lean into it, instead of trying to sound like other people and follow "rules" about how writing and stories need to go. There's no such thing as a universal "rule" for writing.

Unless that rule is epithets. Honestly, yeah, the only universal "rule" for writing is avoiding epithets. Unless you're Homer, I guess, so yeah, I guess there really are no universal rules.

what is your favorite story you’ve written to completion? link it if you’d like and can!

absolutely impossible for me to name. It's always the last one I've happened to read. Last night, to keep myself awake until midnight (which is ordinarily way past my bedtime), I read "Keep the Car Running," because someone had just left a comment on it, and I was like, ...wow, this fic is pretty awesome, I did all that plotting????? lol also Arthur is SUPER charming, Idk, I think I knew at the time how much Arthur was my favorite when I was writing Inception but I feel like it REALLY SHOWS hahahaha I think I just always really show which one is my favorite????? do I?????

anyway, yeah, they're all my favorites if I've finished them. If I didn't love them, I didn't finish them.

what is your favorite out-of-the-box quote?

I have no idea. Hmm. I don't think I quote myself very much. Except for when I inadvertently do, which I know I do all the time. But I just said that I was reading KtCR last night, so here's an exchange I particularly enjoyed as I was reading it, Idk:

Arthur ripped a page out of his moleskine, still ignoring Eames steadily with that talent he had for it, and handed it to Mycroft.

Mycroft shifted from surprise to startlement. “What’s this?”

“My list of crimes you should be worrying about before you worry about dreamsharing.”

“Arthur is always literal when it comes to list-keeping,” Eames told him.

Mycroft lifted his eyebrows at the list of crimes and then said, “I may have owed you a Savile Row suit but I’ve allowed you to keep a Titian, so I think we’ll call it even, don’t you?”

“What makes you think we have a Titian?” asked Eames innocently.

“The fact that he’s your favorite painter,” Mycroft said to Arthur drily.

Arthur said, “Your intel on me is terrible. I like the modernists. Good, sharp, clean lines. Not a lot of fuss.”

Mycroft lifted his eyebrows. “Says the man wearing three different patterns at once,” he remarked, casting an eye over Arthur.

“And wearing them well,” said Arthur mildly. “Not like when Eames does it.”

Mycroft crumpled up Arthur’s list and tossed it to the kitchen table and said, “I haven’t time to quibble over why you’re really here. Name your price for how much it will take for you to go.”

“Arthur and I are rather flush at the moment,” said Eames. “Made a killing off a government job.”

Mycroft scowled at them and looked about to say more except that the door opened downstairs.

which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? why do you say so and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

hmm. I don't really know! Oh, you know what comes to remind recently? Patrick in "Next Christmas." When Patrick breaks up with Pete after they get together, I was really worried people wouldn't understand where he was coming from and wouldn't forgive him for it. I worked really hard to justify what he was doing, to make him make sense, and also to make it make sense that Pete would forgive him, that it wouldn't seem ridiculous of Pete to take him back. I wrote that scene in Patrick's apartment several times, trying to get it right. And I wrote the scene on the front steps of Annie's house several times as well. Hopefully it all worked.

if you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?

Fall Out Boy? The band with the antler video?

But no, seriously, I was like six years old when I first started writing, so younger me would think A LOT of things probably.

I think mostly she would be surprised I decided not to work harder at being a writer for a career, but I also think, well, she'll get it eventually. Because she's me lol

I tag anyone who wants to do this, please steal it!!!

#writing #meme

[randomscropio]

Vent because I need to get this out so that someone knows

Warning: vent, body insecureity (kinda), hating oneself, not getting help, feeling guilty over small things

If someone were to ask me if I'm fine I'd say, "I'm fine" even though I'm not.

I'm not fine.

At all.

I constantly worry if people actually like me and I worry that they won't be there when I need them most. I constantly fear that no one likes me, sometimes I stay up crying because I don't think anyone likes me and because I hate myself.

I hate how much I worry. I hate how the littlest things can be too much for me. I hate how much I hide and how much energy I put into masking my pain. I hate how I'm self conscious about my weight dispite me being a healthy weight. I hate when I was writing this I cried. I hate how much I procrastinate. I hate how much I deny that I need help.

I hate how I have so much dispite doing absolutely nothing, all I've ever done is existed and I've gotten so much, I have a loving family, friends, a house, clean clothes, food that I like, a good school, art supplies, I have things that some people could only wish to have and I have done nothing but be here and live.

I hate that. I hate how little I like to be touched. I hate how I can't tell anyone I actually know any of this. I hate how I can't stop crying when I start. I hate how I sound. I hate how people at school call me a "furry" whenever I draw dragons. I hate how I can't draw humans or hands properly. I hate how much I hide behind the mask I wear. I hate the fact that I have to mask my feelings. I hate how whenever I speak, no one hears me or listens to me and I feel like it's my fault somehow. I hate that part about me. I hate how I feel guilty over little things like forgetting to unload the dishwasher or feed the family dog. I hate how I still haven't told anyone.

And yet dispite all of this, I know someone out there has it so much worse so I don't reach out for help because I know that someone needs it more than me and I don't want to take that away from them. I hate that about me too.

I don't wanna die but at the same time I hate myself and sometimes I wonder if life would be better for everyone else if I was never born. I hate that too.

I hate how I can't tell anyone I know any of this because I'm scared that they'll do something that will put me in an uncomfortable situation or that they won't even care.

I hate how scarred I am about the future. I hate how lazy I am. I hate how all I do at home is sit in bed, take care of myself and look at my phone all day. I hate how little sleep I get. I hate how little effort it takes me to make something for other people to see and be happy about, but when i try to make something to vent with (like this) it's nearly impossible and takes so much time and effort. I hate how many things I hate about myself.

I have so much but I'm not happy. Why am I not happy? I want to be happy not sad, scared, angry, or lazy. I just want to be happy again. So why can't I be? Why can't I be happy, that's all I want at this point. I hate that part about me too. Why can't I love myself like how I act like I do? Why can't I love myself? Why can't I be happy? Why is it that I have to hate myself but at the same time not want to hurt myself or kill myself? Why am I like this? I always say I'm fine, so why can't I be fine? Why do I need to feel like this? I've felt like this for a while but don't want to get help because, again, I don't feel like I need it as much as someone else and I'm scared that if I do get help I'll automatically put the mask back on and just waste their time. I want help but at the same time I don't... why am I like this? Why can't I accept how I am and love myself for it?

Please dont comment anything mean, this is just me trying to get my feelings out and be heard, even if no one will listen or see this post, I just want to get how I feel out. Thank you for listening

#cw vent #cw hating self #cw body insecurity #cw not getting help #cw guilt over small things