#raine in a dress is just chefs kiss

[moonjxsung]

Where the Storm Looms

Copyright Ⓒ 2023 by Moonjxsung

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner. Doing so will result in a legal takedown per the Digital Millennium Copyright Act and is subject to legal action.

*This fic is part 2 to “When the Rain Stops.” You can read part 1 here.

Pairing: Lee Minho x fem reader

W/c: 13k

Warnings: smoking, drinking, mention of cheating, mention of masturbation, mention of casual sex, brief mention of calories, nipple play, unprotected sex, bulge kink, creampie, squirting

Synopsis: Now living in the city he despises, Minho is determined to find you again- despite the sacrifices he’ll have to make.

18+. mdni!

•

They say if you love something, you have to set it free. And if it comes back to you, it’s yours.

So what implication can be drawn if you go searching for it- for three months and 13 days straight?

Minho isn’t sure.

The city is just as grimy as he remembered it- teeming with the sounds of pushy street vendors, bumper-to-bumper traffic and conversations of plummeting stocks at every corner. The coffee is overpriced, and the people dress in gray slacks even on laundry day. The girls are pretty- they’re decent in bed, they work good jobs and they can carry a conversation well as long as it involves their respective companies or an ex-boyfriend.

But none of them are you.

Minho feels stupid for thinking about it this extensively. A random hookup in his bar as a result of bad weather conditions- one you never even bothered saying goodbye to him after, and yet he’s still hung up on you.

That stupid game. He should've never let you fix that arcade game. Maybe then you wouldn’t have stayed so long, wouldn’t have kissed him back even though he’s the one who initiated it. Wouldn’t have let him fuck you on the pool table, moaning his name over and over again like a prayer permanently etched into his memory. But he didn’t stop any part of it- in fact, he didn’t want to. Minho knows he wouldn’t have been able to deny you anything you asked for that night, not with the way you looked at him through wide sparkling eyes, scared you’d angered him, when all he really wanted was to keep you safe. Safe from the storm, safe from people with ill intent. He’d pour you a hundred cups of Diet Coke on the rocks if you asked, or be a chance card in another game of pool you’d inevitably lose at. He’d make love to you repeatedly on any surface inside the dive bar, kissing you every chance he got like it would be his last. Because you changed something in him that night- and he’s determined to find you again.

*

“Still waiting on that garlic bread. And we have another order for fettuccine.”

Minho nods once, drizzling a pan with olive oil and prepping the ingredients that sit in disarray on the counter in front of him.

Tales from the hotel kitchen.

So maybe getting his job back as a private chef was a harder feat than he’d originally anticipated it to be. But Minho’s sudden assimilation back into city life meant he had to make adjustments- sacrifices. And although he’s still technically the owner of the little dive bar 6 hours out of the city, he recently signed co-ownership off to Jeongin, who’s been practically running the place while Minho does some soul-searching in the city.

Of course, the soul he’s searching for is nowhere to be found.

Coffee shops, bookstores, convenience shops, dive bars... Minho recently read there are nearly 2 million people in this godforsaken city at any given moment of the day. That’s a 0.0000005% chance he’ll run into you again. Coupled with the fact he’s already run into you once before, and slept with you, the odds are considerably lower. But nonetheless, the objective remains.

Sometime after the initial run-in, Minho also realized he knows nearly nothing about you. You never spoke of an occupation, or a significant other, or even your favorite color. He does know you live in the city, you’re vulnerable against married men and you can use a screwdriver like a cellphone. The rest is left to his wandering imagination.

“Minho, your bread is burning,” a voice interrupts, and he snaps out of the daze he’s in to lower the heat on the oven. Minho’s sous chef Seungmin sighs in irritation, practically pushing Minho aside to retrieve the loaf from the oven himself.

“Do you want me to take over for the evening? You seem really distracted and we’re super busy out there.”

“No, I’m fine,” Minho says, his eyes darting briefly to the window across from him.

Dark rain clouds loom over the afternoon sky, but it doesn’t rain- in fact, it hasn’t rained once since that night. At first, he sees it as some sort of blessing, attributing the mostly-clear skies to your presence somewhere in the city. Perhaps where you go, the sun follows.

But he quickly realizes that it’s more of a curse, this constant storm looming over him, taunting him with promises of darkened clouds and rainfall, only for the nighttime to bring clear skies once again.

It never rains anymore. Sometimes Minho thinks he imagined you, that night in his bar.

Maybe he imagined the rain, too.

*

The ceiling of this apartment is in desperate need of some TLC, Minho thinks, as he lays in bed that night with hands folded over his chest. It’s riddled with cracks and imperfections, running along the drywall like a design choice. But it’s not a design choice- it’s a result of the shitty architectural integrity of this crowded city. Everyone’s so desperate to live out here they’d put up with leaky roofs and cockroaches before they’d live in the suburbs. Minho thinks back to his apartment in the suburbs, where his three cats are currently being taken care of by a friend, and the biggest pain point is patching up thumbtack holes when he moves things around. It’s spacious, a lot bigger than this dump, and it’s a hell of a lot cheaper.

There’s no set time Minho has dedicated to being out here. “When the time is right, I’ll leave,” he told his friend, averting his gaze to avoid raising suspicions about his intentions out here. But to most, it’s clear Minho is going through something. His hair is visibly longer, the silky ends of it now resting just above his shoulders. He can’t be bothered to care about what he wears, knowing very well that he doesn’t blend in with the other city-dwellers when he’s in jeans and a baggy t-shirt. But without the bar to dress up for like he used to, he doesn’t find reason in trying.

Minho’s also well aware that he looks like a complete lunatic, coming out to the city like this to search for a hookup. If your paths do cross, there’s a likelihood you’ll call the police and have him arrested for stalking. You could also have zero recollection of who he is, or that you ever hooked up with him. You could have a boyfriend, be married by now, or just not interested in Minho. Maybe you regret that night. Maybe you lied about being from the city. You could be on the other side of the world by now, and he’d have no clue.

But he feels it- he feels you, in this city, at every corner he turns. He sees traces of you in the people who smile at him when he passes them by. He sees you in the people who hold doors open for him, the baristas who make foam hearts in his lattes every morning, even the businessmen when they catch themselves admiring the beauty of the buildings on a smoke break. He sees you in all things good, when he’s reminded momentarily that the world has more to offer than boxing him in the confines of a dark bar out in the suburbs. And while he’s not completely in love with life all over again, it’s a start.

The hotel patrons give their compliments to his cooking, and he’s reminded of his days as a private chef again, chasing the sweet high of people fawning over his entrees and desserts. When he calls Jeongin to check up on the bar, he remembers the view out the window by the kitchen- nothing but a parking lot, empty most days, or plagued by truck drivers and prostitutes.

Sure, his apartment window in the city faces a brick wall, but he can escape at any given moment of the day to be part of the towering skyscrapers and city lights that stay on all night. It’s then that he feels bad for Jeongin, who doesn’t have the same luxury all the way out there.

Of course, Minho also remembers the sex from that night. It plays in his head on a loop, often echoing in his brain at the worst of times. The way you’d called out his name was all but intoxicating, chanting it in the empty space of the spare room like you’d done it a hundred times before. Your fingers looped through his hair, massaging his locks in praise while your moans did the rest. Your lips on his, smiling when he teased you about the game of pool- teasing him back, like the complex woman he knew you were.

He remembers the way your hardened nipples felt between his fingers, memorizing their feel with his nimble hands while he pressed his third erection of the night against you, a confession that this is what you do to me.

The way you took him with complete ease, undoubtedly craving him, too, gushing with arousal as he fit so perfectly inside you.

“You’re so big,” you’d said to him, and Minho isn’t sure he ever felt confident in his girth until it was inside of you, thrusting in and out like he was trying to make his semen catch, painting your walls white while you squirted on his still-hard cock.

He can’t get off with girls from the city unless he’s thinking of you and him, in the bar, bent over the pool table. He also avoids the spare room of the bar now, getting hard almost instantly at the sight of it.

It’s embarrassing, and he knows it, tucking his now-softened cock back into his boxers and reaching for tissues on his makeshift cardboard box nightstand. The shame washes over him as he folds his hands over his chest again, eyes locked with the shitty drywall ceiling. Have the cracks gotten bigger? He’s not sure of the large one to the left, caving in toward the window in the shape of a backwards L. If it rains, the roof will surely leak. How do you fix a leaky roof? Is it ever going to rain again? Where are you?

*

On a random Tuesday in the middle of the month, Minho runs into Jisung again.

He’s out by one of the tall buildings in the financial district, one hand shoved in the pocket of his suit while the other brings a turquoise-colored vape up to his lips.

Of course he vapes, Minho thinks. He’s just as predictable as he’s always been.

“Is that the Lee Minho?” Jisung says, blowing a cloud of strawberry-scented smoke into the air. Minho shrugs, saying nothing as he approaches Jisung.

“What are you doing all the way out here? Lost ownership of the bar or what?”

“No,” Minho replies, a stoic expression on his face. “I’m living here.”

“You’re living here? You? Avid hater of city life and all things that inhabit it?”

“Yeah,” Minho says, counting black spots on the concrete below him. “Not permanently. Just looking for something.”

“What are you looking for?”

Minho swallows momentarily. He knows he could bring up your name, and Jisung would probably know where to find you. After all, the two of you bonded over your love of the city before you almost went home with him that night. But he refrains, suddenly feeling a little jealous and overprotective. It’s the reminder that Minho was technically a second choice- maybe you’d just slept with him to get some relief for the sexual tension you felt with Jisung. You did lecture him when he cockblocked you, after all.

“Seeing if the apartments are better out here,” he settles on saying. “They’re not.”

Jisung chuckles. “Yeah, well, I could’ve easily told you that.”

He slides his vape back into the pocket of his suit, adjusting the buttons as he begins to speak again.

“When was the last time I saw you, anyway?”

Minho blinks nervously. His mind races with options of what to reply, but Jisung is faster.

“That storm!” He finally exclaims, clapping enthusiastically. “When we were stuck there while it rained fucking cats and dogs out there. You, me and Miss ‘hard to get’.”

“Right,” Minho says, his pulse quickening a little at the mention of you.

“Can you believe she backed out like that? I went back to that hotel with blue balls like you wouldn’t believe. I bet she’s a good fuck, too, the way she’s persuaded so easily.”

Minho grows irate, doing his best to refrain from lashing out at Jisung to defend you. The way he speaks about you like you’re disposable, like you weren’t only swayed by him because he puts on this act, one where he’s single and nice. Both polar opposite of the sleazy man standing in front of Minho right now.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jisung says. “I ran into her like a week after that, anyway.”

Minho feels his heart stop. He finally makes eye contact with Jisung, voice hitching in the back of his throat as he searches for words to say. What were you doing? What were you wearing? Were you with anyone? Did Jisung try to pursue you again? Was there any trace that you were as changed by Minho as he is by you?

“You did?” Minho queries.

“Yeah. She remembered me, for sure. Said she googled me and found out I was married. That’s the problem with women these days- they fucking google you. Who does that?”

Minho observes the way Jisung snorts with laughter, shaking his head like he’s not a serial cheater himself.

“Where was she?” Minho asks, quickly aware of the way the question comes off as a little too bold.

“Uh… I can’t remember. Think we were in the parking garage off 7th. She was all dressed up like she was going to work or something. Must be a private investigator with the way she stalks her potential hookups.”

Minho laughs internally at the irony.

“Why do you ask?” Jisung chimes in again, sounding a little skeptical of Minho’s behavior now.

“Nothing,” Minho says quickly. “Just curious.”

Jisung nods slowly, not taking his gaze off of Minho. He’s visibly tense, thoughts circling his mind as he tries to recall the buildings on 7th.

“I should get going,” Jisung says, pulling his vape back out to take another hit, much like the nicotine-addicted cheater Minho sees him for.

“Good catching up,” Jisung finishes, exhaling a cloud of smoke into his face. “Catch you later.”

And as Minho leaves, he turns back around to Jisung, pausing momentarily before speaking again.

“Oh, Jisung?”

“Yeah?”

Minho cocks his head slightly.

“Your wife really deserves better.”

*

The parking garage on 7th is a shithole. It’s a narrow, almost cylindrical building, filled back to back with rows of fancy cars. Minho remains parked on the third floor, sat in his car like he’s staking out the place, eyes darting over every passerby in hopes you’ll be one of them.

But they’re all middle-aged folks, blabbering into their cellphones with briefcases in hand, no sense of purpose for the life they’re living aside from money, and maybe their fancy cars.

He sighs, reaching for a cigarette and cupping his hand over the lighter to set it ablaze. Smoking is a recent development. Minho doesn’t think he’s chain-smoked like this since his culinary school days, when he’d spend late nights preparing for exams and practicing his plating techniques. It’s not that the cigarettes relieve him, nor does he even care for the flavor. But he does it as a form of sacrifice. The city keeps you from him, and consequently, he’s pulled back largely from things he actually enjoys, choosing to mirror the actions of the city-dwellers. Smoking, casual sex, drinking, dressing down, hardly ever eating full meals. He’s become reduced to a product of the disdain he feels for himself, spiraling further with every cruel reminder that you’re not his.

When his car stakeout passes the three hour mark, Minho is all out of cigarettes. He’s also starving, and dying for a beer. So he pulls out of the lot, most of the spaces vacant now, anyway, and starts the painful trip back to his apartment. The streets smell like sewage with his windows rolled down, but his own car reeks like a cheap casino. With one hand hanging loosely over the door of his car, Minho speeds down the crowded streets, groaning when he’s promptly halted by a red light. Cars press their horns impatiently as nobody seems to move. Minho glances to the right of him, scanning the streets that begin to darken as night falls. And then he sees it- a dive bar. It’s a city dive bar, of course, tainted by its rustic gentrifying decor and teeming with hipsters. But he’s sure you’re in there, knowing you probably regularly finish work and hit up the nearest bar to down Diet Cokes and chicken wings. In a frantic motion, Minho puts the car in reverse, using one hand to steer as he makes an illegal u-turn. The cars around him honk angrily, shouting profanities and pulling up to fill his spot. But he crosses several lanes to reach the bar, a sense of anticipation bubbling inside him already.

*

The place is much fancier than Minho’s, albeit much smaller. An open bar makes up most of the dive bar itself, a sleek laminate wood finish surrounding the series of draft beer dispensers. The wall above the bar is plastered in license plates from all different regions, and the patrons around all appear to be tourists judging by the way they take photos of it. There are several bartenders working tonight, the nearest one to Minho being a heavily tattooed gentleman with bleach blonde hair.

“What can I get you?” He asks enthusiastically, holding a pen and pad in his hand. Minho’s not sure he’s ever seen a bartender write down an order for a single beer.

When the bartender makes his way to the tap, Minho sits on one of the circular red stools. They’re a little too tall for his liking, swiveling around erratically while he catches his balance and glances around at the patrons. He’s the only one alone here, standing out even more in his loose jeans and an old jersey.

“That’s $12,” the bartender says when he returns.

“Can I just run a tab?” Minho asks, scoffing internally at the steep price.

“First drink’s upfront payment,” the bartender replies, flipping a tablet around to Minho for his payment details. Minho swipes his card and confidently smashes the ‘no tip’ button, earning a little eye roll from the bartender. These bars are nothing like his back home.

When the bartender moves away to attend to another patron, Minho swivels around on his stool, scanning the bar for a sign of you. There’s not a single cup of coke on any of the tables here. Everyone’s happily sipping away at whiskeys and vermouths, their drinks clutched closely in hand as they chat about their boring lives. Minho tunes in briefly to a conversation about someone’s broken toe and sighs, wishing so badly he had you to converse with. You’d probably laugh at all of Minho’s jokes about the people here, agreeing with his presumptions of them. See him? He’s definitely compensating. That guy there needs to cool off the vodka seltzers. She’s definitely not interested in him.

As he takes a sip from his mug of beer, it suddenly catches his eye. The arcade game, tucked away in the back of the bar like a little secret. It’s neglected, probably no one around old enough to know how to operate the thing. Minho rises from his seat, making his way to the game and smiling at the sight.

It reminds him of you, the giant black display of Galaga, decorated with whimsical drawings of aliens and Galaxian Flagships. He pulls out a quarter, slotting it in the machine, because of course you have to pay at this one, and slots it in, waiting for the thing to start up.

Only it doesn’t, the game not even emitting so much as a hum from the monitor. He smacks it a few times, partly in efforts to start it up, and partly to reclaim his last quarter. But it’s a moot effort- the game is completely dead.

Minho makes his way back to the bar, frustrated at the deja vu of broken arcade games and the memories they bring back to him.

“Your game’s broken,” Minho says to the bleach blonde bartender.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. That thing’s been dead for months now.”

“I put a quarter in. Swallowed it and won’t spit it out.”

“Yeah, it does that. Sorry, man.”

“Sorry? You should be. That thing shouldn’t be down here if it isn’t working.”

The bartender narrows his eyes as he mixes another drink for a patron.

“Yeah, well, people don’t usually try it. Again, sorry man. Not really anything I can do about it.”

Minho is angry now, his ears flushed a crimson shade as he speaks, not in any mood to reason with the bartender.

“Look man, just give me my quarter. Can’t you key the machine or something?”

“We don’t have access to it. It’s from some local vendor. You’re welcome to go find a few pennies on the ground if the 25 cents means so much to you.”

“What the fuck kind of behavior is that for a bartender?”

The other patrons and bartenders have noticed now, quieting down as they watch Minho down a few more sips of his beer angrily.

“Look man, you’re gonna have to leave. I can’t have you in here acting like this.”

“I want my quarter.”

“I can’t get your quarter, dude. It’s gone. Get out before I call the police.”

“Why don’t you hire someone to fix the machine, then? There are people in the city who do that, you know. I know someone who’d get it fixed in seconds. She’d be able to get the fucking quarter out, too.”

“Call the police,” the bartender says to another, and Minho raises his hands up in surrender.

“Relax, I’m leaving.” He chugs the rest of his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as the other patrons look on in shock. Nearby, a different bartender has a phone clutched in his hand, ready to dial the cops like they’d requested.

“Tell me one thing,” Minho says before turning around.

The man says nothing, eyes narrowed in fear as he waits for Minho to finish.

“You guys sell Diet Coke here?”

The bartenders look around at each other nervously, confused at the question.

“We only have Pepsi,” one chimes in.

And Minho nods, understanding.

“Take care,” Minho says, waving them off as he finally exits the bar.

*

“I need you to come back for a little bit,” Jeongin says into the receiver one morning. He sounds panicked, like he might break down at any moment. Minho knows he wouldn’t request this of him if it wasn't something serious.

“Okay,” Minho replies. “What happened?”

“The place was robbed last night. By a group of guys. Nobody’s hurt, but they did have a knife on them. Cleared out one of the registers.”

Minho sighs, suddenly feeling awful about being out here. What is he doing out here when the business he owns is being threatened? Even worse, putting Jeongin and the other staff at risk while he embarks on the futile task of searching for what’s already gone? There’s no good explanation for it. It’s selfish- sure, he’s finally chasing after what he wants, but it’s a selfish task nonetheless.

“I can be there this evening,” Minho says, already mentally preparing himself for the six hour drive out there. “Just close up for the day. Make sure everyone gets home safe and knows they’ll be paid for the day anyway.”

Jeongin understands, hanging up on his end of the line and closing up the bar.

As Minho tosses his cell phone aside, he looks around the apartment, sighing heavily when he observes the state of things. His stuff is still stored away in cardboard boxes, the apartment looking more like a showroom than a space lived-in by him. The walls remain bare of any form of decorations, the tiny excuse for a kitchen is void of dishes and cutlery, even his toiletries are in travel bags, like he’s ready to go home at any given moment. And he just might be, after this week’s events.

*

The drive home is as excruciating as he remembers it. Exiting the city means sitting in miles of traffic, alongside impatient city-dwellers who somehow voluntarily make the commute everyday for their jobs. Minho briefly wonders if you’re in the traffic, too. You’re a little impatient, he remembers, thinking about how you demanded a phone charger from him that night in the bar. Only your impatience is something he’d gladly put up with in traffic like this, probably taking the opportunity to play his favorite songs for you and listen to you talk his ear off. He sighs to himself, wishing so badly you could fill the empty leather seat next to him, currently inhabited by empty cigarette boxes and discarded takeout boxes.

Six agonizing hours later, the sun’s beginning to set as Minho pulls into the familiar parking lot of the bar. Waning beams of sunlight reflect off the old bar sign, almost luring Minho inside as the nighttime chases closely after. When he unlocks the door and makes his way inside, it’s like he never left. The red booths are vacant, the peeling vinyl of their seats still scattered across the floor like he remembers. Bottles of alcohol neatly line the shelves behind the counter, which don’t reside far from the shiny mugs and glasses inside the cabinets. Minho runs a finger over the counter, well impressed with the state of the bar since Jeongin’s taken over. It’s impeccable, almost better than it was when Minho first left.

“Minho?” A voice calls, and a figure peeks from around the corner.

It’s Jeongin, who looks different in casual wear for the day, sporting a pair of sweatpants and a simple black t-shirt. He’s wearing his signature pair of thick framed glasses, running a hand through his hair as he takes a seat on one of the barstools.

“It was this register,” he says, gesturing to the one closest to Minho. “I think it was roughly $300 in there. They all had dark jackets and I couldn’t see their faces.”

Minho nods, opening the register to investigate, and then slumps back in the stool behind the counter.

“I’ll take the remaining cash to the safe. Let’s stay closed for a few days while I file a police report. They’ll probably want to poke around in here, and I don’t want any of the patrons to panic.”

It’s Jeongin’s turn to nod, making a mental note of Minho’s instructions. After a brief pause, he speaks again.

“How’s the city?”

“The city is…the city.”

Jeongin chuckles lightly, shaking his head.

“Are you working?”

Minho nods. “Not my private chef gig. But it’s a restaurant. I have a sous chef, which helps. It’s nothing special, though.”

There’s a moment of silence as Jeongin traces the table pattern with his fingers. He wants to ask more from him- he wants to know why Minho’s out there in the first place, why he even agreed to sign co-ownership off to Jeongin when this was his bar he was so proud of for all those years. But there’s seemingly no courteous way to go about it- any which way, he feels like he’s overstepping. Minho is usually on the quieter side, only confiding in his colleagues when it’s something that affects the business.

“Minho, are you…” he begins, his voice wavering in fear that he’ll unintentionally offend.

“Have you found what you’re looking for?”

Minho is silent, and for a second, it’s hard for Jeongin to gauge his reaction. His eyes remain locked on Jeongin’s pupils, trembling in discomfort as he thinks back to you. He thinks of the city, of the bar fight, of the hours spent in a dingy parking garage and the cracks in his apartment ceiling.

Jeongin begins to take back his question, disappointed in himself he’s even chosen to utter the inquiry. But Minho finally does give an answer, albeit a vague one.

“Not yet,” he replies, swallowing nervously before continuing. “You’ll be the first to know.”

When Jeongin leaves, he takes the cozy atmosphere of the bar with him, and the place now feels colder, more unfamiliar. Minho looks out the window at the darkness that envelopes the parking lot, feeling a sense of unease in knowing he’s going to leave it all behind again. This bar needs him, it needs stability. It needs someone to look out for the people who are vulnerable to sleazy married men or robbers. As he pockets the cash to transfer to the safe, he glances at the yellow Pac-Man game, sitting proudly where it has for the past three months since its repair. Little ghosts dance along the display screen, prompting users with ‘press A to start’.

Minho simply walks past it, knowing very well there’s little joy in a game that only brings back painful reminders. He makes his way to the back office, where the red leather couch and desk still remain. The cash is deposited in the safe, and the keys in the file cabinet- third drawer from the top.

Minho feels a gravitational pull to the spare room upstairs- he knows he shouldn’t, very well aware that he’s only hurting himself by picturing you up there. But still he does. Hands shoved in his pockets, he makes his way up the creaking stairs and through the little hallway.

The room is just as suffocating as he remembers it. The same old pool table sits in the middle of the room, and at the back where the arcade game previously lived, there’s a rectangle on the carpeted floor where it once sat, contrasting a bright untouched green to the older, worn down carpet. Minho doesn’t leave the doorway; he just stands, observing the room in all its mundane appearance. His eyes remain on the spot you’d previously hoisted yourself up to sit on the pool table, and he can almost see himself looming over you, too. From this angle, it doesn’t feel like it ever happened. It plays more like a cheap movie where a famous scene was shot. Like a figment of his imagination.

Have you found what you’re looking for?

He hasn’t, not yet. But seeing the potential of this old room, in the bar he owns, Minho knows it’s finally time to stop searching.

*

Back in the city, Minho’s days are numbered by the countdown. Two days until he’ll leave all this behind, for good this time.

The kitchen is busier than normal on this gloomy Thursday, more staff than usual working floor while others make trips up to hotel rooms for delivery.

Minho drizzles pans with olive oil in between plating a shrimp scampi, tonight’s special. The air is thick and fragrant with seafood and Parmesan cheese.

“I need a lava cake for room 302!” Seungmin exclaims to Minho in a rushed tone.

“On the cart by the door. Second row.”

Cooks work diligently in their respective areas, and Minho wipes his brow with the back of his sleeve. It’s a stressful role, no doubt, but he still feels a sense of sadness knowing he won’t be back to cooking like this once he’s back in town. He tries to mentally prepare himself for days of mixers and signature cocktails again.

“Minho, get out of here and go take a lunch,” Seungmin says as he reappears from behind the door. “That way the schedule doesn’t rearrange.”

Seungmin is a blunt sous chef, but he’s dedicated to his work. Minho knows he’ll have no problem working his way up to a head chef role one day. He appreciates his attention to detail and ability to work with difficult patrons, and he’d certainly entertain the idea of bringing him to work at the bar back home if he liked.

“On it,” Minho says, already pulling off his apron.

“Oh, and can you bring a Diet Coke to table 6 out there? I brought regular on accident.”

“Yup,” he says plainly, grabbing a clear glass from the clean stack and filling it at the fountain.

Minho thinks back to his apartment- this might be his last day at work, but he still has a generous amount of packing to do when he gets home. He’s relieved he kept most of his stuff in boxes, or else he’d easily be stuck here another week.

Minho counts boxes in his head, balancing the glass in one hand and his apron in another as he exits the kitchen to the seating area. He’s seldom out here, only really passing through when he gets in for the day. But he’s not in charge of serving guests, and the whole thing suddenly feels a little uncomfortable to him. Quiet jazz music plays overhead as tables fill the room with noise of their conversations, everyone dressed up with legs crossed neatly under white tablecloths.

Minho looks around frantically as beads of condensation on the glass wet his hand- where the hell is table 6?

A family sits at the back, every member paired with their drink of choice. An older couple sits closer to Minho, two cups of coffee steaming in front of them.

And by the window, two women deep in conversation- one of them passionately sharing tales of work or perhaps a lover.

And the other one, you.

Minho thinks he’s hallucinating for a moment, when he first observes you sitting there. You’re nodding as the other woman talks, a smile pulling on your face as she exaggeratedly makes a hand motion during her story. You’re not dressed like the other city-dwellers here, looking starkly more beautiful in a sweater and a pair of jeans. You’re the only one in here wearing jeans, aside from Minho. He smiles when he takes notice.

Another server passes Minho in a rush, shoving by him with a tray of food in hand.

“Oh sorry,” he says, eyeing him a little confused. “Did you want me to take that? I know you’re on lunch.”

Minho grips the coke firmly in his hand, shaking his head almost immediately. He’s never refused something so fast in his life before.

“No, I got it,” he says, finally taking the first step toward your table.

Minho glances down at his appearance briefly, fixing the collar of his shirt as he approaches you. He’s a little more dressed up for his last day here, a pastel blue button-up tucked into his jeans, his now long hair parted down the middle. He wishes he could tuck back into the bathroom and see himself more clearly, but he knows he’ll lose you if he doesn’t make his move now.

Minho’s thought of this moment so many times, replayed the conversation in his head like a speech he’s been waiting to give. He wants to proclaim his adoration for you, giving you a romantic explanation of how he’s searched for you all these months and never stopped thinking of you. And in an ideal scenario, you’d say the same, kissing him in front of all the restaurant-goers here and leaving back to town with him to live happily ever after.

But he’s never considered the idea of a friend being present. Or being crunched for time on a 30-minute lunch break. It’s all happening so fast, and his head spins with anxiety as he approaches you.

You’re still in conversation when he sets your Diet Coke down at the table a little too hard, hoping to get your attention. You don’t so much as look his way as he does, and he lingers by your table for a moment as he thinks.

“Do you need a straw?” Minho asks, eyes darting over your face briefly. Your hair is a little longer, too, but you look the same. He’s sure you’re not a hallucination.

“No thank you,” you say, finally glancing over at him to give a small nod.

And just like he’s lost for more words, you seem to be too, lips parting slightly as you keep your gaze fixed on his.

*

“Thank you for lunch,” you say to your colleague at the end of the meal, who’s been passionately talking about her recent project at work for the last hour.

You tuned her out after the first 15 minutes, being completely awestruck when the server delivered your requested Diet Coke to your table.

Either the brain fog from work is finally starting to catch up with you, or you’re simply too tired. But the server looks exactly like Lee Minho, the bartender you slept with a few months ago. Normally, you’d tuck away and hide at the sight of running into a hookup again. But Minho wasn’t just a hookup to you.

He’s lingered amongst your thoughts for the better part of those three months, the polite action of protecting you from sleeping with a married man and letting you seek shelter in the storm remaining some of the nicest things someone’s ever done for you.

He wasn’t just a hookup, not with the way he spoke of his hopes and dreams and asked about all of yours. And then he fucked you like a husband, the feeling you got from him bending you over the pool table like that still sending chills down your spine.

Your colleague pulls her scarf and coat on, nodding as she gestures to the door. The lunch rush has died down by now, and most of the tables are vacant as the streets bustle with people returning to work.

“I’m gonna grab a meal to-go,” you tell her. “I’ll meet you back at the office. Thank you again for lunch!”

Fortunately for you, she doesn’t question it, leaving you to order as she heads back to the office.

Minho is nowhere to be seen, only one server present on the floor as it’s more empty now.

“Can I help you?” A voice asks, and you’re met with the warm smile of the singular server.

“I… I wanted to give my compliments to the chef,” you say, sounding a little unsure of yourself.

“I’ll be sure to do that, thank you very much,” he replies, bowing when he finishes.

“I meant my personal thanks,” you clarify, and he furrows his brows in response.

“Uh… sure, I can ask him. Do you know if it was the head chef?”

“His name’s Lee Minho,” you say with a smile. “He’s probably the head chef.”

*

Minho’s sous chef runs his kitchen like the navy, you quickly learn, as he ushers for you to leave soon after Minho exits the kitchen due to the impending dinner rush.

There’s no time to catch up with him, only being able to utter a short “thanks for the meal,” as he waits for you to speak.

But he recognizes you, his gaze staying on yours a little too long as he nervously bows.

“Y/n,” he says in response, the action saying nothing and yet so much at the same time.

And you smile back at him, relieved he still remembers.

As Seungmin calls for him a second time, you pull a pen from the pocket of his apron, scribbling your address on a napkin from one of the tables.

He nods back at you, napkin clutched in hand, as he makes his way back to the kitchen.

And for a brief moment, neither of you can make out the implications of the action. An invitation for sex? A date to catch up? The details are blurry to both of you. But you hope he shows, and Minho already knows he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

*

As you fix your hair in front of the mirror that evening, memories of Minho play in your mind like they did after the night you spent together. You know you had to leave- it wasn’t something you decided lightly, but you and him are fated for different things. And who are you to intervene where the stars align? Minho deserves someone who will be available for him, someone uncomplicated and willing to inhabit the place he loves so dearly.

You, on the other hand, have a historical bad run with men, and so pursuing Minho would be uncharacteristic. But also unfair to him. It’s clear from that night that your worst traits will always remain the most significant parts of you- impatience, judgment and naivety. And while Minho comes off as curt, he’s anything but. He’s too good for you. You’re just a byproduct of this city- everything he despises. It would be over before it even started.

Minho shows at exactly a quarter to nine, knocking twice at the door as he waits out in the hallway for you.

When you unlatch the door, he perks up from nervously staring at the carpeted floor, adjusting his collar and clearing his throat. He looks more casual than you’ve probably ever seen him before, in a striped gray and black top, layered with a black collared shirt and dark ripped jeans. He also looks particularly handsome tonight, but also different, noticeably thinner in his face where his cheekbones protrude generously, his hair a little longer now.

“Hi,” Minho says plainly, his gaze fixated on yours in an almost trance-like state.

“Hi,” you reply, unsure of where to start. “Come in, please.”

You step aside, ushering him into your apartment and shutting the door behind you both. Minho looks around, impressed with the state of your apartment in comparison with his. There are cherry wood bookshelves lining the walls, filled top to bottom with stacks of old novels and textbooks. Colorful modern paintings decorate the walls, which are admittedly much taller than his own, and cozy lighting fills every room in the space.

Minho bows a little, handing you a bottle, and you smile in amusement as you scan the contents. A single liter of Diet Coke.

“You remembered,” you say, endeared by the simple action.

“So you don’t waste your calories,” he replies with a small smile, echoing the statement you told him so many months ago.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” you tell him. Minho takes note of the shakiness in your voice, a little relieved that you seem to be as nervous as he is. It’s certainly not a matter of picking up where you left off when you both have your walls up like this, but he prefers the silence to your absence any day.

You disappear into the kitchen, pouring both of you glasses of Diet Coke as Minho settles on the edge of the couch. He folds his hands in his lap and blinks nervously, trying so hard to remember everything he’s wanted to confess to you since returning here. But in this proximity to you, in your own home, everything suddenly seems like a bad idea. He feels dramatic, overbearing, trying to make sense of this. Maybe he shouldn’t have come.

When you return, Minho takes a deep breath, quietly thanking you for the beverage when you place it on the coffee table in front of him. And then as he feared, a silence washes over both of you.

You take a sip of your coke, waiting for him to speak, and similarly, he waits for you. You’d forgotten, briefly. That Minho is inherently a quiet guy. It’d been you who brought his walls down, challenged him to a game of pool and even instigated the argument when he told Jisung to leave the bar. As he blinks at you a few times, you realize it may be his way of asking you to do it again, to help him feel comfortable again.

“Your Italian food is on par with your chicken wings,” you say to him, finally breaking the silence. “Think you need to add shrimp scampi to your bar menu.”

Minho smiles, and the whole room seems to brighten up when he does. His eyes turn to little crescents, his grin flashing you the skewed front teeth you were so endeared by when you first met him. His presence feels like the bar did- safe, familiar.

“It’s not my best work,” he replies. “It’s just a temporary job. But I do have a sous chef here, which is a plus.”

“The one with the nice smile? I know, he almost kicked me out for asking to see you. He’s very deceiving.”

You and Minho share laughter, recalling how Seungmin yelled at you several times at the restaurant today. When your laughter dies down, he swallows nervously, unsure of how to proceed.

“Thanks for… giving your compliments today,” he says. He really wants to say ‘thank you for seeing me again’.

“I knew I recognized you,” you say back to him. “I was surprised to see you here in the city. I guess I just wanted some confirmation it was really you.”

“It’s me,” Minho says sheepishly. You smile at him, feeling a little sorry at the way his tone sounds so unsure.

“What are you doing in the city, anyway?” You ask.

Minho isn’t sure what to say. In an alternate timeline, he’d like to tell you he came for you. But he knows he’ll come off as a creep, and the last thing he wants is to lose you again.

“Just wanted a break from the suburbs,” he settles on saying.

“Do you like it?”

He toys with a frayed hem on the throw pillow beside him, shaking his head a little hesitantly.

“If I say no, you’ll think less of me.”

He regrets the words as soon as they leave his lips, not wanting you to think he came here for you to pity him. In fact, the reality is quite the opposite.

“I would never think less of you,” you assure him with a gentle smile. “You’re allowed to have your opinions.”

Minho nods, not entertaining the subject anymore.

“How’s the bar?”

“It’s okay,” Minho says, sighing a little as he thinks back to recent events. “It was robbed just the other night.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you say to him with widened eyes. “Is everyone… okay?”

“Everyone’s okay,” he affirms. “Just lost some money. I’m working with the police on it, so hopefully we’ll have someone arrested if we’re lucky.”

You nod at his words, feeling disheartened at the mention of the robbery. Although you’re not particularly fond of the suburbs, the bar is a sacred space for you, and knowing he and the staff were put in that situation makes you uneasy.

“How’s work?” Minho asks, and you chuckle at the question.

“Nothing special. I did get a promotion last month, but I’m only making a few dollars more than I was last time we met. Nothing to write home about.”

“We’ll congratulations anyway,” Minho says, raising his glass of Diet Coke. “Well deserved.”

“Thank you,” you say, clinking your glass against his and letting the cool carbonated beverage soothe the nerves still present in your demeanor.

“Oh, you’ll never believe it! I ran into Jisung out here,” you say to Minho with a scoff. “He tried to pursue me again, the bastard. I’m pretty sure he was even wearing a wedding ring this time. I had to tell him I found out he was married on-”

“On Google,” Minho finishes your sentence. “He told me.”

“You saw him too?”

“Yeah, just the other day. He’s just as obnoxious as he was three months ago.”

You smile at Minho, briefly reminded of the way you were able to bond with him as a result of Jisung’s antics.

“I never got to say thank you,” you say a little quietly, averting his gaze. “For that night. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you there to help me.”

He looks down, pondering your words for a moment.

“You left without saying goodbye.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to. Trust me. But I figured…” your voice trails off, trying desperately to decipher how to word your sentiment politely.

“Figured what?” He says, looking back up at you. His eyes tremble a little in anticipation for your reply.

“I figured we’re just different people.”

Minho nods, pursing his lips together as he replays your words.

“And by that you mean that you’re a successful member of the city, and I’m just a bartender.”

Your face drops at his words, suddenly panicked that he’s come here because he’s angry at you. You would never think less of him for being a bartender- hell, you wouldn’t even think less of him if he was unemployed. You’re not sure you could think less of him if you tried.

“That’s not what I mean. And you know that.”

Minho narrows his eyes a little, challenging you.

“Then what do you mean?”

“I mean,” you begin, sighing before continuing to speak. “That I’m everything you despise. I let people down. I’m not inherently a good person, the way you are. You know how I stormed in there demanding a phone charger? Fighting you at the bar because you wouldn’t let me sleep with a married man? That’s the kind of person I am. I’m impatient, and naive and I’m nothing like the girls you’re used to.”

“How do you know what I’m used to?”

“Come on, Minho,” you say, and the conversation finally begins to sound a little more natural between the two of you. “You said it yourself- I’ve never lived without the notion of wanting to migrate as soon as possible. Who’s to say that doesn’t apply to people, too?”

“You’re nothing like you say you are,” Minho interrupts, and you can feel yourself getting frustrated at his words.

“How would you know that? Because you slept with me in a bar? I’m not this dream girl you think I am, Minho. I was looking out for you. You deserve better.”

Minho says nothing for a moment, swirling Coke around in his cup and watching the bubbles fizzle away as they hit the rim of the glass. He shakes his head a little to himself, and then he begins to speak again.

“You want to know why I came out here again?”

You remain silent, already knowing what he’s going to say. But to your surprise, his answer is a little more complex.

“I came out here because I wanted to. I wanted to work as a chef again. I wanted new colleagues, I wanted a different view and I was tired of being stuck in that little bar.”

You don’t reply to his statement, waiting for him to continue.

“And do you know why finding you was something I held onto so dearly?”

“Why?” You ask, the question coming out in a shaky tone. He takes a deep breath before he answers.

“I wanted to thank you. I wanted to tell you all about it. To tell you that you were right- sometimes, simple isn’t better. Sometimes you have to go back and make amends before you can move forward again. I wouldn’t have done any of this if someone really cool didn’t walk into my bar and make it clear to me. I guess part of me just hoped you were changed by it, too.”

Your expression softens at his words, feeling awful for the way this conversation has gone so far. It’s not your intention to hurt him- in fact, you feel particularly protective of Minho.

“I came looking for you, too,” you say after a moment of silence, and Minho perks up at your words.

“You did?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “I visited your bar. Twice since that night. I asked for you both times. The guy said you weren’t there anymore. I think after the second time, I took it as a sign to stop trying.”

“Jeongin?” Minho says, furrowing his brows together in visible confusion.

“He was blonde, a little small. Freckles.”

“Felix,” Minho says, chuckling lightly. “He’s a new hire. Jeongin would’ve told you differently. I have co-ownership with him now.”

You nod, folding your hands in your lap.

“I was changed by it,” you say, finally letting your gaze meet his. “I never stopped thinking about you. But it scares me. In so many ways, you’re everything I tried to run from when I left the suburbs. I don’t think I was ever good enough for any of it- all I cared about was money, and my work and finding an apartment with a nice enough view of the city. I didn’t care about the memories I made there, or that there’s genuinely good people. I didn’t even visit my parents very often. You reminded me that there’s more to it than just that. There’s more to the past than its negative aspects. So thank you, too.”

Minho is quiet for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts of what to do- how to keep you around. But in this moment, it’s clear to him- he has to let you go. He said what he had to say. He’s done the search, all three months of it, and he found you. He validated his own emotions and made sense of yours- you were just as changed by it as he was. But maybe that’s enough- perhaps the rest is just wishful thinking.

“Looks like we felt the same about it, then,” he says with a small smile, sitting up from the sofa and making his way to peer out the large glass window in your living room.

“And by the way, you definitely succeeded with the view out here. Mine’s just a brick wall.”

You chuckle, making your way over to the window and standing next to him to take in the view, too.

“It’s nice, right? All of the east side is visible from up here.”

“See that down there?” Minho points. “Visited that dive bar the other day. It sucks if you’re wondering.”

“CJ’s? Yeah, it’s kind of a shithole. They don’t even serve Diet Coke.”

Minho chuckles lightly, a little sadness evident in his tone.

“You know, maybe if you swung by and fixed their little arcade game, they’d supply you some. Probably something to do with all the ABC’s.”

“The what?” You query, furrowing your brows together and chuckling as he speaks.

“The little gidgets inside. You know, with the pins.”

You pause to think for a moment, mentally mapping out the circuit inside.

“The EPROMs,” you say finally.

Minho feels his breath hitch in his throat as you utter the acronym. It sounds so unfamiliar, and yet so familiar to him at the same time. He suddenly remembers that night, in the spare room, hearing you say it for the first time.

“The what?” He replies gently, not removing his gaze from the window.

“The EPROMs,” you clarify, a little louder this time.

“Say it again,” Minho breathes, a small smile painted on his face now.

“EPROMs?” You question, turning to face him, visibly confused.

“Yeah, those. What’s it stand for, anyway?” Minho finally asks, turning to face you. You face him, too, endeared by the curiosity he’s displayed for that game repair since the first night you met.

“Erasable programmable read-only memory,” you explain, aware of how close he is in proximity to you now. His eyes flicker down to your lips and then back up again, his plump lips pulling into a knowing smile as you speak. He knows he’s wandering into dangerous territory now, but he can’t help it- not when it’s you who makes him feel like this.

“God, it sounds so sexy when you say it,” Minho says sheepishly.

And he knows he shouldn’t entertain it- he’s well aware that his intention is to walk out of here and get on with his life, comfortable with the knowledge that you’d sought him out, too. But he can’t help himself when you’re this close to him, talking circuit repair so intelligently and erotically.

So without another question to stutter, or a fight to be had, he closes the gap between you two, pressing his lips onto yours and kissing you one last time.

You don’t protest the action, instantly tangling your hands in his tresses and reciprocating with the same hungry, passionate kisses he delivers. Maybe it’s the long hair, or the ripped jeans, but part of you also wonders if he’s been dying to kiss you tonight as badly as you’ve been craving him. The flavor is reminiscent of the bar to you, on that pool table like the first time you kissed him. He tastes like mint, enveloping your tongue with hints of Diet Coke while he nibbles on your bottom lip between kisses.

Without any sort of end goal in mind, your hands snake down to his collared shirt, which you tug on hungrily, and then begin to push off his torso. Minho smiles into the kiss, reaffirmed that you want him just the same, and he pulls away momentarily to complete the task of pulling off his button down.

Underneath, his striped t-shirt is cut off generously at the shoulders, completely exposing his arms to you. You almost gasp at the sight of his toned arms jutting out, veins running along his forearms and flexing with each movement. Minho chuckles softly when he takes notice, amused at your reaction.

When his button down shirt is fully off, he kisses you again, hands finding their way to your waist as he pushes himself against you, desperate to feel you against him. You walk backwards, cupping his face between your hands and leading him toward your bedroom.

For a fleeting moment, you’re nervous to take it any further than this, the last person you slept with being Minho himself. You can’t remember which undergarments you wore, or what your bedroom decor looks like to anyone except yourself. But Minho’s kisses shut you up, his lips moving against yours with desire and passion, and you don’t want to do anything except this, right here.

When you’ve made it to the bed, you pull away, crossing your arms over your torso and pulling your sweater off over your head. You’re in a lacy black bra, you realize, because of course you thought to dress for him. Minho blinks a few times, crossing his own arms over his torso and finally pulling his shirt over his head.

It’s then that you realize you’ve never seen Minho without his shirt before- he wore that white button down in the bar, only allowing you to see a generous amount of his collarbones. But standing in front of you like this, he’s breathtaking, his toned torso and his sharp collar bones complementing his sculpted thighs and arms so perfectly.

When he takes notice of you staring at him, one hand flies down to his mid-torso, where he spreads a palm out over the skin, seemingly in an attempt to cover something. You take one step forward, gently placing a hand over his and moving it so that his torso is exposed again. And across his tanned skin, a pale pink scar catches your eye, not very noticeable from your previous distance, but definitely perceptible when you observe his body long enough.

“Minho,” you coo, running your hand along the scar and tracing it with your fingertips. “You’re beautiful,” you say to him after a moment, smiling up at him sincerely.

Minho’s heart almost stops in its place, overwhelmed with his emotions for you, to be here with you, the desire to make love to you eating away at his mind like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

And if it is, he’d die a happy man.

His lips crash against yours again, hands snaking down to your jeans, where he unbuttons them, your hands meeting his to help pull them down. While you take over, he unbuckles his belt, snaking the leather out from around his waist and undoing his buttons. It’s then that he pushes you gently against the bed, hoisting your legs up so that you’re at a comfortable angle, finally propping himself above you and working kisses down your neck. He nibbles your flesh between his teeth the way he did before, beginning to work purple bruises around your throat. And you let him, without protest, because you’re desperate for a reminder that he’s here, that he’s yours. Minho smiles against your neck when he feels you moan softly at the sensation, satisfied with the way you melt at his touch.

“Minho,” you call, and he brings his lips to press a chaste kiss to yours again.

“What is it, baby?” He coos gently, pressing a series of kisses to your lips before you speak again.

“I never should have left,” you reply, toying with a strand of his hair around your fingers in a pleading manner. Your chest is heavy with guilt, tears almost pricking at your eyes as he looms over you like this.

He chuckles softly, kissing you for a moment before grazing his lips over yours again, speaking just above a whisper.

“I’m here,” he says. “I’m right where you left me.”

And it’s your turn to kiss him, crashing your lips against his again as tears fall from the corners of your eyes. Minho takes notice when the salty taste of them dance along his tongue, kissing them back up your face and holding you a little closer to him. His hands wrap around the small of your back to find the clasp of your bra, skillfully undoing it with one hand and pulling away from you to discard it on the floor. It’s Minho’s turn to stare, running one hand down your clavicles until he’s grazing your nipples with his fingers.

You feel your breath hitch in your throat with anticipation, before he finally dips his middle finger down over one of your hardened nipples, earning a stifled gasp from you. He works little circles over your nipple with one finger, the gentle stimulation making you gasp into his mouth as he kisses you again.

And then he moves back to your neck, kissing over the bruises he sucked into your flesh, trailing lower and lower until he’s just above your breasts. You look down at him with bated breath, almost clenching at the way his lips exhale little breaths against your nipples, making them even harder. With his eyes on yours, he finally lowers himself, latching both lips around your breast and sucking.

Your back arches up into him instinctively, the feeling of his teeth grazing your skin sending divine shivers up your spine. In a sudden motion, his tongue swirls around your bud, the cold sensation causing you to moan fervently. He smiles with your flesh between his teeth, while your hands tangle themselves in his hair and massage him encouragingly.

It feels so primal, so natural to have his mouth all over you, your legs pressing together to calm the ache between your legs. He takes his time on one breast, only coming up to press a kiss in the valley of your breasts and then moving to give attention to the other one. You could stay here for hours, like this, if it wasn’t for the pulsing reminder in your groin that you want to feel him inside of you.

“Please,” you say gently, pressing your legs together and squeezing in efforts to relieve yourself.

Minho chuckles softly, letting go from your nipple with a gentle sucking sound, a string of spit hanging from his lips as he looks up at you with hooded eyes.

“I want to feel you inside me again,” you admit shyly, tenderly running your nails along the back of his neck. Minho’s lips meet yours again, and his hands quickly find their way to the hem of your underwear, sliding them down and pulling away to discard them on the floor.

He’s promptly reminded of how needy and vocal you are, smiling down at you as you pull his face back to yours and swirl your tongue around his. But truth be told, he’s just as needy as you are, equally reminded of how much he’s touched himself to the thought of this and secretly prayed he’d be able to make love to you again. And now here, his lips on yours, it’s finally happening, his rock-hard erection proof that it’s always been you.

As you arch up into him, one leg wrapping around his to push him even closer against you, your hand snakes down to his erection, palming him through his boxers. Minho groans at the contact, his lips parting a little as he winces in pleasure.

“You’re so hard,” you say with a smile, pleased at his evidently equal desperation for you.

“All for you,” Minho replies, running one hand down your stomach to rub little circles on your clit, causing you to moan in pleasure.

“Ah- fuck,” you breathe out, contorting against him, desperate for him to fill you up. “Please, Minho, want to feel you inside me,” you pant against him, pleading for the second time now.

He remains like that for a moment, working little circles onto your clit as he observes the way your eyebrows arch up in pleasure.

“Want me to fill you up?” He asks, cocking his head with yours as you grasp his forearm.

“Yes, please,” you reply, trying your best to stave off your orgasm until he’s inside of you.

And without teasing you any further, Minho pulls away from you to slide off his boxers, his cock springing up against his abdomen in anticipation for you. You prop yourself up on your elbows, in awe at the sight as he tosses his boxers aside and leans down to kiss you again.

“Lay down,” Minho orders sweetly, and you do as you’re told, exhaling once to calm your steadily beating pulse.

“Is this still okay?” Minho asks, caressing your shoulder with concern as you wait for his next move.

“Yes,” you say, giving a half smile to him when he rubs his thumb along your cheek lovingly. He smiles back at you, giving one small peck to your lips before hoisting himself up and wrapping one hand around his cock.

You watch as Minho wraps his slender fingers around the base of his cock, pumping a few times before leaning down to kiss you tenderly. The sensation causes him to breathe a few gasps into your mouth, Minho also trying his best to stave his release until he’s inside of you.

“Gonna put it in now, okay?” He asks, breaking away to part your thighs. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

But you don’t- not when you’re this wet for him, this desperate to finally feel him fill you up again, like you’ve fantasized for so long.

A strand of his hair falls into his face as he finally guides his cock inside of you, rubbing your clit as he thrusts in fully and bottoms out. You gasp at his size, almost having forgotten just how thick he is, the stretch making your head spin with pleasure. When he gauges your reaction, he begins to move with you slowly, giving gentle thrusts while you wrap your arms around his back.

The bed creaks as he moves in and out of your sopping pussy, emitting lewd sloshing sounds as he leans down to kiss you, your tongues and mouths doing much of the same. You can hardly kiss him back, your lips already dribbling strings of drool in fucked-out satisfaction from him filling you up like this.

“Fuck… baby… you’re so tight,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.

“Feels so good,” you breathe back, gripping his shoulder a little bit when he picks up his pace. “No one fucks me the way you do,” you say to him, and his cock twitches inside of you at the admission.

“Fuck,” Minho says again. “I dreamt of you for so long,”

“Me too,” you say, reaching up to move a stray piece of hair out from in front of his eyes between your heavy breathing. “I wish I came looking for you again. God, I wasted so much time.”

Minho kisses you, burying his lips in the crook of your neck to caress the bruises he’s already left.

“I never stopped searching for you,” he breathes out against your skin. “It’s you, it’s always been you.”

His words make your heart flutter as he continues to thrust in and out of you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust now. Your moans get louder as he picks up the pace, digging his nails into your waist as he holds you in place. Between kisses, he caresses your thigh with his hand, positioning it up and bending your leg at the knee beside him. You moan instantly at the new angle, his length caressing every inch of your pussy, his girth stretching you out with every thrust inside of you and tickling your pulsing clit as he moves against your hips.

“Good girl,” Minho says, smiling against you as he kisses you. “Take me so well.”

Your nails dig into his back as he thrusts a little faster now, the rhythmic motion sending shivers up your spine.

“I’m close,” you breathe out, and judging by the way Minho’s cock twitches inside of you, he is too.

“Will you do that thing again?” You ask in a shaky voice between moans, and Minho lets out a breathy chuckle.

“What thing, baby?”

But he knows very well what you’re referring to, having replayed it in his head every time he got off without you. You don’t respond to him, instead intertwining his hand in yours and bringing it down to your abdomen, where you sprawl his palm across your navel and give it a little push. Minho groans at the feeling of your warm abdomen under his palm, remembering the way you reacted last time. And he’s eager to please you, to do it exactly how you liked it before.

Without teasing you any further, Minho presses down on your stomach, observing the way you moan when he does, and then thrusts a little faster. He can feel his length sliding in and out of you under his touch, locking his gaze on the bulge in your abdomen that appears with every thrust.

“Min, I’m so close,” you say, gasping desperately and digging your nails into his back.

He presses down a little harder, burying his face in the crook of your neck and moving even faster, moaning every time he can feel himself move against your abdomen.

And as he brings his lips up to meet yours, you finally let go around him, making a mess of your sheets as you cum around his cock, your clit pulsing in syncopation with your entrance as he fucks you through your orgasm. Minho finishes just seconds after, emptying his milky white release inside of you, both your juices spilling into each other and coating the bed in your arousal. He doesn’t pull out immediately, slowing his thrusts for a few minutes as he kisses you much gentler this time, your lips still glistening with the exchange of saliva.

When he feels you shiver against him, Minho finally slides out, turning over to lay on his back and catch his breath. The two of you remain like that for a few minutes, catching your breath and wiping beads of sweat off your forehead as you do. After a moment of silence, he turns to you again, a worried expression on his face.

“I promise I didn’t come here to have sex with you,” Minho says. “I wasn’t lying about wanting to tell you all about it. I guess I just happened to-”

“Min, I know,” you say with a small smile. “I didn’t think that’s why you came here.”

He lets out a silent chuckle, and you mirror the action, smiling back at him before laughing silently. The two of you remain sore and wearied, your languid bodies a comfortable distance away from each other on the soiled duvet.

Still, Minho extends a hand out from beside you, palm facing up and shifting his gaze onto yours out of his peripheral vision.

Your hand meets his, intertwining your fingers together, the delicate embrace a reminder that he’s here, right where you left him.

*

“Can’t you just stay another week?” you say to Minho, leaning down to press another kiss to his already swollen lips.

You lie on top of him as he lays back on your couch, his hands tucking strands of hair behind your ear as he smiles up at you.

“It’s just for a little bit, I promise. I just have some unfinished business out there.”

“I don’t want to lose you again,” you say in a whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your fingertip.

“You won’t lose me,” Minho replies, his tone turning serious at your words. “You’ll never lose me.”

“What am I going to do without you?” You ask him, feeling yourself grow increasingly more panicked at the thought of being away from him again. You’ve spent the better part of three months searching for each other, desperate for some closure to this fleeting thing- and now he’s leaving, and you can’t help but feel like you’re doing something wrong by letting him leave like this.

“You’re going to be the woman you always have been,” Minho says with a smile, stroking your hair gently. “You’re going to work your job, and fix things and be absolutely remarkable wherever you go. And I’m going to finalize a few things out there and then meet you right back here in the city. And we’ll lie on this couch, and we’ll pick up right where we left off.”

You smile at him through pricking tears, feeling them begin to fall as he reaches a thumb up to wipe them off your cheek.

“Hey,” Minho says to you reassuringly. “You know- I was thinking a lot about the bar.”

You nod at him, trying to hold back the rest of your tears as he speaks.

“We have contract negotiations coming up next month. And I was thinking of… maybe…handing it off to Jeongin.”

You sit up a little, eyes widening at his words.

“Complete ownership? But you love that bar, Min.”

He shrugs a little, blinking a few times as he pauses.

“I want to cook. And I think being out here made me realize I need a change of pace again.”

“You mean like… moving out here? To the city?”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, throwing his head back a little before meeting your gaze again.

“Maybe. Just something I’ve been thinking about.”

You chuckle too now, cupping his face in your hands as you sit up to look at him.

“You know,” you begin, thinking for a second before continuing to speak. “This really cool bartender told me once that sometimes you have to go back and make amends before you can move forward again.”

His lips flicker down to your smile and back up to your eyes as you speak, a visible sparkle in your pupils as you look down at him. “Whatever you decide to do back there, I’m here with you when you go forward again. As a bartender, or a chef, or whatever you decide. I’ll be right where you left me.”

And he doesn’t have to ask you twice, knowing in his heart, you’re already here with him- every step of the way.

*

Minho leaves bright and early that morning, grasping your hand firmly in his as you make your way down the concrete steps of your apartment building to where his car is parked.

He looks more angelic than you’ve ever seen him, his smile illuminating the space around you as he holds you in his gentle embrace on the sidewalk. The two of you say nothing, only speaking through the tender touches of your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, face tucked in the crook of his neck as he holds you. He presses kisses to the top of your head, reminding you through hushed whispers that he’ll be back as soon as possible. And you know he will, feeling completely enveloped in his loving trust as he holds you, as he promises not to lose you again.

When he pulls away to look into your eyes, tears prick at the corners of your eyes for the third time this morning, and Minho chuckles lightly, reaching up to wipe them away with his thumb.

Before he can say anything, he feels it, finally.

The gentle caress of droplets on his face- not your tears, not his, but the sky above, showering you with little raindrops for the first time in three months and some days.

At first, Minho thinks he might be hallucinating it, when he looks up to squint his eyes back at the cloudy sky. You do the same, feeling the familiar kiss of raindrops on your skin. And then, as if the sky’s taking notice, it begins to pour, warm rain showering you both in the hazy atmosphere of the city sidewalk.

Minho laughs up at the sky, shaking his now damp hair as he looks down at you again. All this time he’s waited for the rain, thinking maybe he’d imagined it that night in the bar- the same night he ran into you. But as the raindrops graze his skin and glisten under the light of the city, he realizes it was very much real, as are you, standing right here in his arms. And like everything falls into place, so does the rain over the city, washing away the doubts he held onto for so long.

“It’s finally raining!” Minho exclaims, holding you closer to him as he tilts his face up to the sky again.

You watch him in admiration, laughing at the way he embraces the sudden downpour, also remembering the first night you met him because of the storm like this.

The city-dwellers around you begin to seek shelter under the cement roofs of the high rises, but you remain there on the sidewalk, warm in each other's embraces, content with the sudden turn of the weather. When he looks back down at you, his hair is now completely soaked, stringy pieces falling into his face as he continues to laugh.

“Minho,” you say through gentle laughter of your own. The rain comes down violently now, drenching the two of you as he holds you closer to him.

“Where have you been all my life?”

And he smiles down at you, the familiar beam of his giggle instilling the same safety and comfort as the first night you met in his bar.

“Right here,” Minho replies, leaning in to kiss you again.

“I’ve always been here.”

This time, you make no effort to escape the rain, comfortable in the way it looms over the city, much like how Minho looms over you- fortuitous, and with promises of new beginnings.

#skz smut #Lee know #Lee know smut #Lee know fic #stray kids hard hours #skz #stray kids #skz scenarios #stray kids x you #Lee minho #lee know scenarios #Lee know x reader #fanfic #smut #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #Spotify

[madebycloud]

Cozy

jenna ortega x reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: rainy morning breakfast with your girlfriend (requested by anon) warnings/themes: fluff, rainy morning, breakfast err words: 0.7k

The rain's been lashing the windows all night. You roll over in the cozy little cove you've created with the blankets and pillows around you. The early morning chill is too strong for the warmth of your bed.

Suddenly, you receive a notification on your phone. You slide from the warmth of your bed and move over to the bedside table, picking up your phone and checking the notifications.

Nothing but spam and promotional messages. You sigh, returning the phone to the nightstand.

You sat up, stretching your arms and scratching your hair. You took your time to wake up, feeling the laziness seep into your bones. The idea of getting up made you want to just crawl back under the blankets.

The woman next to you was still sleeping, snoring softly. You reach out and wrap your arm around her waist, pulling her close to you and placing a string of kisses across her shoulder.

She mumbles something unintelligible, but her body shifts underneath your touch, and she rolls over to face you. Her eyes are half-closed, but her smile is bright as she touches your cheek and pulls you in for a long, lingering kiss. 

“Morning,” you mumble once the lips finally part. She giggles before laying her head against your neck.

“What time is it?” she asks, her voice still raspy.

“I dunno, 7 something...?” you reply, unsure of the actual hour but confident enough that it's early morning.

You give her a quick kiss on the cheek before getting up to start your daily routine. You washed your face, brushed your teeth, and dressed in comfortable, warm clothing.

When you were done, you found her still in bed, her body curled up like a cat behind the cozy sheets.

You head to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, determined to make something special today. You start the coffee maker and read through the many recipes on your phone, hoping to find one that's quick, easy, and delicious enough to satisfy both your cravings and your taste buds.

Then you see it: those fluffy, mouth watering pancakes with sliced strawberries and maple syrup. It's like they were made for you and your taste buds.

“Ahh, that's the one”, you tell yourself, grabbing the ingredients in a flash to start cooking. Your fingers move fast and effectively as you beat up the batter, and before you know it, you've had a flawlessly golden, fluffy batch of pancakes created precisely the way you want them.

While your cakes are cooking, tiny little hands wrap around you from behind, and you turn to see your girlfriend.

“That smells delicious,” she says to you, her eyes focused on the cooking pancakes. You kiss her lips gently before turning back to the pancakes.

“Trust me, babe, you're about to partake in a culinary masterpiece crafted by none other than the 5-star chef.”

“Sorry to disturb the master chef,” she says, before she sits down at the counter, resting her legs in a cross and tilting her head to watch you cook. “What are you cooking?”

You can't help but roll your eyes, but you're not upset at all. With a playful grin, you reply, “Obviously, a five-star meal.”

Finally, the pancakes are done, and they are served on a dish with some additional maple syrup on top, as if you were an actual 5-star chef. Breakfast in hand, you set it down on the small table. Jenna follows you and sits down on the couch next to you, resting her head on your shoulder.

You sip from your coffee, tuning into the local news broadcast on TV. They're reporting the weather, which is rainy outside. You take a mouthful of the crisp, syrup-coated pancake—the sweetness of the strawberries and the richness of the syrup complement each other perfectly, and it's the perfect way to start your day. 

With a smile on your face and the pleasure of a job well done, you lean in to kiss her.

It's going to be another one of those days where you have too much stuff to do and not enough time to do it all. Oh well, at least you can count on your amazing morning kisses to make it worth it.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x you #request

[aloysiavirgata]

What do you think Scully and Mulder would disagree on as parents? A prompt, if you will.

Scully wanted schedules. Meal plans. Calendars. She wanted piano lessons on Thursdays, swim lessons on Mondays, and labeled bins for the Legos and Thomas train cars. She wanted whole grains and bento boxes and clothes from Boden and Hanna Andersson and Tea Collection. Vacations in the Galapagos and the Grand Canyon. She wanted - in her most secret heart - for him to be the star of the soccer or lacrosse teams. Or both.

Mulder wanted the gauche consumerism of Disney World every spring. He wanted drippy ice cream cones and a perpetually muddy dog and troops of sticky neighbor children marauding through the back door so he could say JESUS CHRIST WILLIAM I’M NOT PAYING TO AIR CONDITION THE WHOLE STREET. He imagined burnt pig-anus hot dogs over a campfire, a floor strewn with action figures, snow angels, Chef Boyardee. No chess coach, no deportment classes, those new-fangled sneakers that lit up. He imagined Welch’s grape juice stains on the couch.

***

Scully, luscious and fully fleshed again, with William suckling at her blue-veined breast. Scully like a Renaissance Madonna reimagined by Margaret Atwood.

“My mother sold her wedding dress to pay for Charlie’s football gear,” she says, touching William’s rose petal cheek. “My father made pretty good money for the Navy and all, but four kids so close together…we ate a lot of spaghetti. Lots of hand me downs. Missy shoplifted makeup a whole lot, if my mother ever knew…”

“Malnutrition why you’re so short?” he asks, because he knows she wasn’t actually malnourished.

She scowls. “It was never dirty, my mother would have died first. But just…you know. Heaps of rain boots at the door and school books on the table and hair ribbons and pencil stubs and recorder sheet music and half a cream-cheese-and-jelly sandwich withering on a plate because Bill and Missy were pinching each other…”

Scully trails off, switches the baby to her other breast. Remembers dinners of store-brand fish sticks and creamed corn because one of them had an unexpected pricey field trip.

William gurgles, clutches a fistful of his mother’s silky hair. Blows a raspberry beneath her Delft pottery gaze.

Mulder kisses William’s warm, fragrant head.

Mulder remembers his father, pleasantly loquacious on bourbon, teaching him about shoulder lines and top-stitching at 8. His mother and Samantha in matching ruffled Gunne Saxe dresses, the starched disapproval of the maid when he tracked footprints over the fresh vacuum lines in the carpet.

Chicken a la King, wedge salad, Steak Diane, swigs of his mother’s sidecar…

William hiccups, dribbling milk down his fat cheek. He begins to hiccup more, which makes him laugh at first, and which then makes him cry.

“It was just always loud and chaotic,” Scully says, propping the baby against her shoulder. “Someone was always hurt or in trouble or pulling hair or getting their hair pulled…it was impossible to think or relax. College was such a gift.” She remembers a study- fort she built in the San Diego coat closet.

William belches, then cheerfully vomits down her cleavage.

Scully groans.

Mulder mops her up with tender precision, watches William try to stuff his dinner-roll fist into his mouth.

“It’s been silent at my house for twenty-eight years,” Mulder says.

#xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #msr #my fic #prompt #william #family #inbox

[outerspacebisexual]

I Wish I Could Say - Steve Harrington

Summary: You and Steve Harrington didn't get along. He was more than a little surprised when you showed up crying on his doorstep in the middle of the night.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, dickhead oc, sorta enemies to sorta lovers *chefs kiss*

Masterlist

Steve wasn’t sure what to do when you showed up on his doorstep in the middle of the night, crying as you stood defeated in the rain.

You were soaked to the bone, body quivering with the cold, but it didn’t seem like you even noticed.

“Jesus, L/N. Did you walk here?” he asked, looking outside to see if there was anyone else or a reason that you were there.

You didn’t reply, you just let out a strangled sob that had him pulling you into the warmth of his house.

Water dripped off you everywhere, and he quickly grabbed a towel and wrapped it around your shoulders. He was glad his parents weren’t home to get angry about the water on the carpet, not that he cared at all. He cared about the fact that you weren’t dressed for the late autumn chill outside. “What are you doing here?”

You swallowed and shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

That he knew, because if you had a choice, you would never have willingly come to him for help.

You and Steve had had an on-and-off again, weird kind of friendship since you’d left high school. You and him hadn’t run in the same circles at Hawkins High. He was popular and sporty, while you were smart and more reserved. At least, that was what he’d thought until Dustin had forced him and you—who just happened to be in your front yard across the street from the Wheelers—into a car to help with an escaped demo-dog.

That was when he found out that you weren’t necessarily the shy type he thought you were. You had no problem in telling him he was a fucking idiot. And you proved that you were one of the bravest people he had ever met when you stood between Billy Hargrove and the kids, baring your teeth, and managed to get Billy on the backfoot.

Not that Steve would ever tell you that.

Because you and him were always at odds about something. It didn’t matter if it was a tiny, trivial thing like which street got the kids to the arcade quicker, or a giant, world-ending thing like a theory on how to escape from a secret Russian base.

You two just didn’t get on with one another, much to the annoyance of your mutual friends who teased him mercilessly about the tension between you two. A tension that he denied furiously, not only because you were the most frustrating person he had ever had the displeasure of meeting, but because you were dating Hawkins’ biggest dickhead, and had been since senior year. There was no way that you had eyes for anyone but Rob Pickett, even though he was an asshole and left you hanging on multiple occasions.

And in your eyes, Steve became the worst person in the world whenever he pointed it out. Not that he cared what you thought of him.

So, yeah. Steve knew you must have been beyond desperate to come to him for help.

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it after a second. He had nothing.

As if you were a wild animal, Steve gently placed his hand on your back and guided you towards his room. You didn’t protest, and when he sat you on his bed, you didn’t even look at him. You just stared blankly at the wall.

Steve stood opposite you, his eyes searching your face. He wasn’t sure what to do. He decided on: “Are you OK?”

You didn’t answer him.

He sighed. “Look, I’m going to need something to go on here, L/N. You show up in the middle of the night, soaked after walking in the rain for whatever reason—”

“I broke up with Rob,” you interrupted.

The words on his tongue died, and you still didn’t look away from the imaginary spot on the wall. “Uh, right, OK,” Steve said after a moment, “But that doesn’t explain why you’re walking in the rain in the middle of the night.”

You sniffled, reaching up to wipe the water from your face with the edge of the towel. “He left me there.”

Steve’s eyes darted around the room, trying to work out if he was somehow missing something. “Left you where?”

“At the quarry.”

He blinked, and every thought eddied out of his head. “He left you at the quarry?”

You nodded.

“He left you at the quarry by yourself?”

You nodded again.

“In the middle of the night? When it’s absolutely pouring outside?”

You nodded once more.

Steve could only try and swallow down the rising anger that mixed with disbelief. Everyone knew that the quarry was dangerous, especially at night. The kinds of people who hung out there after dark weren’t the kind of people that you wanted to meet. Ever. Particularly by yourself.

And this fucking asshole had left you there. Alone.

And you had walked all the way into town in the dark while it was bucketing down.

It was a surprise that you hadn’t been fucking kidnapped, let alone fucking killed.

Steve was only shaken from his darkening thoughts when you spoke.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you said, voice shaking. “My parents would kill me if they knew I went to the quarry with Rob, and I was so tired, and my feet hurt, and I was scared—” You hiccupped, and Steve immediately surged forward. “I was so scared.”

He placed his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, hey. It’s OK. You’re safe now.” The words seemed to calm you down a fraction, and it was only after your breaths returned to normal that he felt how icy your skin was. “We need to get you warmed up. You’re freezing.”

“I don’t have anything with me,” you admitted. “My bag is in Rob’s car.”

Steve sighed. You were getting colder by the minute. “I can take you home.”

You looked up in alarm. “My parents—”

“Don’t worry. I’ll turn on my charm.”

You scoffed. “Your charm usually has the opposite intended effect.”

Despite the tiny hit to his ego, Steve smiled. There you were.

It was on the drive to your place that the words he had said to you brought up a blurry memory he didn’t even know he had forgotten.

Steve wasn’t sure how long he and Robin had been tied up.

It had felt like an eternity. Every part of him hurt, and he could feel the blood drying on his face.

The alarm blaring made something start pounding in his head, but the high from the drug he’d been injected with drowned it all out. He had just narrowly missed having his fingernails torn off, and he was laughing about something he couldn’t remember with Robin.

The doors burst open, and the doctor was electrocuted by Dustin as he ran into the room, followed closely by Erica and you.

Steve was sure he was dreaming when you knelt before him and started undoing his restraints. You made quick work of them, and he began to fall forward, but you caught him. You placed one hand on his chest to steady him, while the other went to his face as you checked over his injuries.

“Steve? Hey, listen. We need to get out of here.”

Steve started mumbling. “The doctor. He’s going to take my fingernails. I like my fingernails.”

You gripped his shirt and pulled him up. “Doc is out cold. You’re safe now, Steve. You’re going to be OK. But we need to go, like right now.”

He could only laugh. At what, he didn’t know. Maybe it was the warmth blossoming in his chest at the thought of him being safe with you.

That was a nice thought.

+

Steve didn’t see you for a week after he managed to charm you past your parents with a bullshit excuse, one that you had tried to convince him wouldn’t work. But with a few big smiles and a little bit of confidence, you were in the house and up the stairs with no protesting from your parents.

You hadn’t looked back at him as you rushed past your parents, and he tried not to dwell on the fact that it had hurt a bit.

Now, he was standing at your front door again, this time behind a group of middle schoolers who had convinced him to drive them from Dustin’s to Mike’s because they desperately needed supplies. For what, he had no idea. And he hadn’t wanted to know until he pulled up out the front of the Wheeler’s and instead of heading inside, they ran across the street to your place.

The door swung open after their insistent knocking, revealing you.

You rolled your eyes as you saw the boys, and just stepped aside as they rushed past you with varying degrees of ‘thank yous’ and ‘you’re the bests’.

Steve stood awkwardly in the doorway. “Hi.”

“Hey,” you said. “Are you the taxi today?” You nodded towards his car across the street.

“Yeah.”

You nodded and looked around. “Are you coming in?”

Steve jolted. “Uh, yeah sure. Thanks.”

He followed you into your kitchen, where you were obviously in the middle of making something. He didn’t know what to do, so he took a seat at the bench, taking in the interior of your house. “So, where did the shitheads go?”

You pointed with the knife in your hand to a door the was ajar down the hallway. “Basement. My older cousin is a nerd, and he left a few boxes of wires and electronics stuff here when he left for college. I told Mike that he could have whatever they wanted, and now they come over and raid it whenever they need something.”

“Ah,” Steve said. The two of you fell into a silence that was only occasionally broken by the boys yelling from downstairs.

You looked better than you had a week ago, Steve thought as he watched you chop up fruit. But you were quieter than normal. Normally, you’d be three quips and an insult deep by now. He didn’t know why it bothered him.

Steve chewed on his bottom lip. “How are you?”

You stopped slicing the apple on the board, and he cringed as you looked up and raised a brow. He thought for a second that you were going to say something sarcastic, but his hopes died when you said, “I’m OK.”

He nodded slowly. “And how have you been?” He was fishing for anything.

You started cutting the apple again. “You mean since my asshole ex-boyfriend left me at the quarry by myself?” You dropped the slices into a large container. “Fucking brilliant.”

“Glad to hear it,” Steve joked. “I was starting to think you might be sad about it.”

You cracked a smile at that, before it fell and you returned to silence. “Thank you,” you said finally. “For that night. You didn’t have to do any of that for me, and you did. So, thank you.”

Steve could feel that warmth in his chest. “Don’t mention it. It’s fine.”

There was a crash from downstairs and you sighed, excusing yourself to go find out what the shitheads had broken.

Steve ran his eyes along the countertop, noticing for the first time a bunch of flowers on the counter. It didn’t take a genius to work out who they were from. They were dying, if not almost completely dead from the lack of water. That was a good sign, he guessed. That you hadn’t even bothered to put them in a vase.

They were ugly anyway, in his expert opinion. Even he knew that they weren’t your favourite. If he got you flowers—

Steve stopped that thought before it finished.

+

Movie nights had become a staple in the lives of your weirdly mismatched group of friends.

Steve and Robin managed to get the best new movies before they hit the shelves, and at least once every two weeks, the whole lot of you found yourselves spread out in someone’s living room.

This time, it was Steve’s turn to host.

He didn’t mind hosting. He honestly preferred it. His parents were never home. Plus, Nancy and you always brought food that you left there, meaning he had leftovers to eat for a week.

It was a win/win situation.

Like tonight, when you had arrived with a basket full of food that had him drooling before you’d even crossed the threshold.

“Harrington,” you said as you passed him and walked to the kitchen, “you’ll catch flies if you don’t close your mouth.”

He rolled his eyes as he shut the door. “I can’t help it when you decide to bring a truck full of food. What did you do? Raid the whole of Bradley’s?”

“That’s a funny way of showing gratitude from the guy I know for a fact loves it so much he eats it for a week.”

Steve could only chuckle as he watched you take out container after container and sit them on the benchtop. He did love your cooking; he made no secret of it.

You looked nice tonight. Better than you had at the movie night two weeks ago. That had only been a bit over a week after your breakup with Rob. He had overheard you talking to Robin about how you hadn’t wanted to go at all. But you showed up, dressed in your comfiest clothes. You also hadn’t cooked that week for the first time ever.

Steve had been slightly worried that you wouldn’t show up tonight. He was glad to be wrong about that.

“Where is everyone?” you asked, taking lids off the containers.

“Nancy and Jonathan are picking everyone up,” he said, coming over to help you.

“Great,” you sighed. “We’ll be at least an hour behind schedule.”

Steve laughed. You weren’t wrong. Nancy and Jonathan barely managed to get out the door on time on the best of days, and with them on pickup duty, he’d be surprised if the movie started before eight.

Once you were done, you leaned back against the counter, straightening your shirt. Steve eyed you up and down. “What?” you asked.

Steve shrugged. “You look nice. Who are you dressing up for?” It was half in jest, half in curiosity.

You narrowed your eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know, pretty boy.”

Steve held up his hands in mock defence. “I was just wondering. I wouldn’t put it past you to make a move on someone now that you’re a free agent.”

You smirked. “Why the sudden interest, Harrington? You jealous or something?”

“You wish, L/N.”

That smirk widened as you stepped forward, getting into his personal space. Your eyes didn’t leave his, even as his own eyes betrayed him and glanced quickly at your lips. Barely a millisecond, but he knew you caught it. “Maybe I’m dressing up all nice for you.”

Your tone was playful, just like always, but he could have sworn that there was an underlying tone. One that made heat rise in his chest.

“I-I wouldn’t blame you.” He stumbled over his words. So much for his so-called confidence.

Your smirk turned into a smile as your eyes went to something behind you. “Look at that,” you said, still only inches from him. “Nancy and Jonathan are on time for once.”

And then you were brushing past him, leaving him blinking at the space you had been just moments before.

+

You hated the fact that you were standing on the street corner, waiting for Rob to decide to show up.

He had called you a few hours ago and said that he wanted to give you your bag back. The one that you had honestly forgotten about in all the weeks since your breakup. You had seriously debated if you needed it, but after a few minutes, you agreed to meet him on the corner across from the arcade.

You had no doubt that one of the kids would need a lift at that time of afternoon, so you agreed.

But Rob was nearly ten minutes late, and you were getting tired of waiting.

Your eyes flickered over to Family Video, grateful that you were out of sight from inside the store. The last thing you needed was Robin seeing you and berating you for meeting with Rob. It didn’t matter the reason, she would be down your neck about even speaking to the asshole on the phone, let alone see him.

You also didn’t want Steve to see you.

You didn’t know why. You had never really cared what Steve thought of you or your choices before. Of course, he gave his opinions freely, and you did the same to him, regardless of if they were particularly nice or not.

It was a surprisingly comfortable dynamic that the two of you had fallen into over the past two years. More so in the last month and a half when that line between contempt and genuine interaction had begun to blur. You weren’t sure why the back-and-forth banter had become the normal for the two of you. You hadn’t really spoken in school, but you had known King Steve from the sidelines.

When Dustin had forced you and Steve into close proximity, you had just assumed that he was the same Steve. You had begun to realise that he really had changed for the better.

You had actually started to enjoy seeing Steve Harrington, and he seemed to be around more than usual, chaperoning the kids when they came over to use your basement every time they did.

And you made the run to Family Video twice a week to rent a new movie, and just to see him. You had teased him that you would have to stop coming in because he had begun to expect you. He replied that no one could ever be ready for you.

Steve had been slowly taking your mind off your breakup with Rob one day at a time. And you were insanely grateful for it.

It made you smile, even as the cold weaved its way beneath your jacket. You would head into Family Video after getting your bag back.

You pulled your jacket closer, huffing a sigh of relief when you saw Rob’s car pull into the carpark.

He got out of his car, and you frowned as you saw his hands empty as he approached you.

“Where’s my bag?” you said, as he stopped beside you.

Rob had his hair slicked back like usual, the absolutely grating laugh leaving his lips as he said, “I had to get you to meet me somehow.”

“What are you talking about?”

He shrugged. “Well, you wouldn’t meet with me.”

“Because I don’t want to see you. What about that is hard for you to comprehend, Rob?” you spat, teeth baring as you wondered just how you had wasted two years of your life on a prick like him.

Rob stepped towards you, but you held your ground. “I know that you broke up with me, but I think you made a mistake.”

You scoffed. “The only mistake I made was ever agreeing to date you. You’re the one who’s been sleeping with other people.”

Rob looked taken aback, and you realised that he had never been on the receiving end of your spite.

You crossed your arms. “Either give me my bag back or fuck off. I’m not playing games with you, Rob.”

You caught movement out of the corner of your eye and your face dropped.

Just as you suspected, Dustin, Max, and Lucas needed a ride home, but they had gotten to Steve before you. And now he was looking at you across the road.

His face was unreadable, but you swore that you saw a flicker of hurt flash across his face. You dropped your arms, stepping towards him, but Rob grabbed your arm.

“We’re not done here.”

You turned back to him. “Yeah, we are. Don’t fucking talk to me again. Keep the bag. Maybe you can use the makeup in there to freshen up. You know, being the new town whore and all,” you spat.

Shrugging his hand off, you turned back to the carpark, but Steve’s car was already gone.

As you passed Rob’s car, you called out to him.

He turned and looked at you.

You smiled big as you showed him the keys in your hand, and his face dropped as you dragged them along the side of his car.

+

Steve didn’t show up at your house four days later with the kids.

You didn’t know why you expected him to. You didn’t know why you wanted to explain yourself. It wasn’t like you owed him an explanation.

But for some reason, the gnawing feeling in your stomach only grew with every day that passed.

You could have called him, but that would mean that he would know that you went out of your way to talk to him. Before now, every encounter you had could have been chalked up to chance or obligation.

If you decided to call him, that was you choosing to talk to Steve.

You didn’t know if you were ready for that.

“Hey, Dustin?” you called from the top of the stairs.

The curly haired boy stuck his head out so he could see you. “Yeah?”

“Did Steve drop you today?” You sounded apprehensive even to your own ears.

Dustin shook his head. “Nancy brought us here. Steve’s been moody and doesn’t want to drive us around for some reason.”

“Oh, right.” That was what you were afraid of.

Dustin disappeared again, and you half closed the door to keep the noise down.

This was a good thing, right? You and Steve had just gone back to how things had been before that night. That was what you were comfortable with. That was how things should be.

You scoffed and ran a hand down your face. God, you couldn’t even convince yourself.

After an hour of listening to the kids bicker about wiring for their new radio system, you were tempted to throw them out on the street, but you secretly enjoyed the company. You got to feed them and listen to their dumbed down explanations that were still outside of your comprehension.

There was a timid knock on the door, and you frowned as you checked your watch. You weren’t expecting anyone.

You really weren’t expecting it to be Steve Harrington, standing just as awkwardly as the first time.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi.”

“I’m here to pick up the kids and take them to Dustin’s,” he explained.

“Oh, yeah. They’re inside.” You stepped back. “Would…would you like to come in?” You held your breath as he glanced between his car and your door. You could almost see him weighing up the two options in his head.

“Sure,” he said, and he followed you into the kitchen.

Unlike all the other times he’d been to your place, he didn’t take a seat behind the counter. He just stood with his hands in his pockets, avoiding eye contact with you.

“How have you been?” you asked, just to break the silence. “You haven’t been around with the boys.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been good.”

He obviously wasn’t going to ask about you as the silence descended once again.

“I’ve been meaning to come in a return the tape I rented.” I’ve just been trying to work up the courage to see you, you didn’t say.

Steve nodded again. “Cool. Robin’s working tomorrow, so you can drop it in.”

His indifference made something pain in your chest. You and Steve had always had some type of feelings towards each other; everything from hatred to respect. You had never been indifferent to one another.

Steve had never been indifferent to you.

You chewed your lip as you silently begged him to look at you. You swallowed down your pride, and said, “Listen, Steve. The other day—”

“Steve, we were waiting for you. Why didn’t you tell us you were here?” Dustin said as all four boys emerged from the basement with a wild assortment of bits and bobs.

You could have sworn that something in your heart broke as Steve pivoted and started towards the door with the middle schoolers in tow, not bothering to say anything to you, even as the others called out their ‘thank yous’.

You heard his car peel out of the street, and it left you wondering if you were totally wrong about everything.

+

Another three days went by without Steve visiting you.

You had gone to Family Video in the meantime, but he wasn’t there. At least, that’s what Robin told you, despite the fact that his red BWM was parked out front. You’d tried to not let that one hurt as you rented another movie, one you had already seen a bunch of times. It was the only comfort you had in the lonely days leading up to movie night.

You hadn’t realised just how much time you were spending with Steve until he suddenly stopped swinging by.

You hadn’t realised just how much you liked him swinging by.

And now, there was a palpable tension between the two of you. Even as you sat on opposite sides of your living room, Steve in an armchair and you curled up on the couch beside Will.

No one else seemed to want to address it. You were too scared of being rejected again to want to.

The food you had cooked had already been devoured, and your first movie already over. The rain outside provided a distraction from your thoughts.

Robin got up and put the second film in, and Steve stood.

“I’m going to get going,” he said to no one in particular.

You stood, too. “I’ll get you your food,” you said, ducking into the kitchen before he could protest. You had already packed away two containers in the fridge earlier.

Steve met you at the door. “Thanks,” he mumbled, taking them from you.

“You’re welcome. I tried something different with the sauce, so…let me know if you like it.” You hated how desperate you sounded. You had never been this person before now—before Steve ignoring you was a curse rather than a blessing.

He looked at you then, and you thought that maybe he had heard the meaning behind your words. Let me know if you want to talk to me again. He chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes roaming your face.

Last time he looked at you like this, you thought he was going to kiss you in his kitchen. But he didn’t. He just swallowed and nodded, heading out into the rain to his car across the street.

You stood there for a few seconds, staring after him as he jogged to his car to avoid getting wet.

You were running after him before you could convince yourself not to. “Steve!” you called.

He turned to you just before getting in. “Yeah?”

He attempted to shield his face from the rain. You were suddenly in front of him. And you realised you didn’t know what to say.

Steve was looking at you expectantly as the rain poured down, saturating his jacket. You could feel the water sliding down your back.

You couldn’t pull your eyes away from his. And before you could stop yourself, you leaned up and kissed him.

He was frozen for a long moment, and just as your heart started to drop and you began to pull away, his hands came up to rest on either side of your neck, bringing you closer as he kissed you back.

When he finally pulled away, he seemed dumbfounded. “What…?”

“I don’t know,” you said quickly, blinking the water from your eyes. “I just…” You couldn’t find the words.

Steve ran his thumb along your jaw. “Yeah, I get it.”

You couldn’t help it as you heaved out a sigh of relief.

You didn’t know, but neither did Steve.

And that was somehow the best part about it.

a/n: i hope you liked this! my requests are open if you want to request something! or check out my prompt celebration! <3 aeia

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #outerspacebisexual

[milkistay]

what STRAY KIDS would do on valentine’s day 

pairing. skz x gn!reader

format. headcanons

chan

fancy dinner date

something about chan gives the impression that he’d really like doing the whole Dressing Up And Going Out extravaganza for valentine’s day. white tablecloths, gold champagne, decorative red rose centerpiece; chan’s gaze on you, thick with adoration, illuminated by the candlelight; a small, special gift handed to you shyly. he giggles at the cheesiness of it all but you look incredible and he’s never been more in love.

minho

home date

you best believe minho has a whole menu planned for you. multiple courses. drinks. sides. desserts. you spend the early evening as the sous chef, handing him spices and wooden spoons while pressing quick kisses to his cheek (he smiles every time). it’s sickeningly domestic. the dinner tastes fantastic of course, but not better than how the blush on minho’s face looks when you pay him the nth compliment of the night. you end the date on the couch, holding each other close and playing stupid games to decide who cleans up (you clean up together anyway).

changbin

chill dinner date

changbin adores taking his loved ones out to restaurants. he’d love to pick a old favorite spot or somewhere new and spend the evening sharing dishes with you and talking about anything and everything in your lives. and by the end of the night, when you’re both full of pasta or sushi or samgyeopsal, you’ll walk home together and changbin, ever so the gentleman, will drape his jacket over your shoulders. he lies in bed later, smiling at all the photos he took of you.

hyunjin

museum date

typical of our sweet hyunjin to want to take you to a museum. the winter rain is drumming on the windows but you’re protected by the quiet serenity of the museum. hyunjin leads you from room to room, holding your hand, and stops in front of every piece depicting two lovers, whispering, “that looks like us,” with a smile. and you listen, happily, when he begins to give you an art history 101 lesson because his eyes light up so beautifully. and when you finally leave, you duck into a small ramen shop and warm up while hyunjin flips through the new art book you bought him at the gift shop.

jisung

café date

what’s sweeter than a cold, winter morning spent inside a café sipping warm drinks with jisung? doing all of that one valentine’s day! jisung insists on trying their holiday specials (just a normal latte but with heart sprinkles or iced tea dyed pink and red) as you claim a small table in the corner, nothing in the world to care about expect for the loved one in front of you. it’s cozy, it’s familiar, it’s jisung’s favorite morning of the whole month.

felix

picnic date

felix is ever so endearing when he packs a bag with lunch and drinks and desserts and finds a perfect spot at the park—just under the light scatter of shade from a nearby tree. he lays his head in your lap while you play with his hair and the sun peeks through the leaves, golden spots across his cheeks. he brings flowers and chocolates, of course, along with a heart-shaped card that’s filled with his handwritten notes on all the things he loves about you (he writes small and squeezes words in every space, but he still runs out of surface area). a perfect afternoon spent, in his professional opinion. 

seungmin

movie date

honestly, it doesn’t matter which movie you watch because you barely end up even watching it. instead, cuddled up under one blanket on the couch and sharing each other’s favorite snacks, you and seungmin can’t stop talking long enough to actually pay attention. you’re trading stupid jokes and bits of stories from your weeks. you tell him about how you saw your friends earlier, he tells you about the annoyingly difficult new choreography he has to learn, you tell him about the puppy stuffie you saw in a store that reminded you of him, he tells you about his mom calling him to wish you a happy early birthday and so on and on and on. you fall asleep to the soft hum of the movie and seungmin fiddling with your fingers mindlessly.

jeongin

beach date

unbeknownst to you, jeongin has been planning this for weeks. he carefully selected the perfect beach—secluded, with a breathtaking view of the sea and the shore—and packed a bag with blankets and your convenience store drink of choice. you spend the whole afternoon with your feet in the sand and jeongin’s arm around you, looking out at the horizon and babbling about anything. and then the sun sets, staining the clouds colors of pink and orange, and finally, the constellations return to black sky. under the safety of the night, you and jeongin spill everything—dreams, hopes, silly wishes, sillier fears—and wonder how two people can be so perfect for one another. 

#skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz headcanons #chan imagines #minho imagines #changbin imagines #hyunjin imagines #jisung imagine #felix imagines #seungmin imagines #jeongin imagines #skz valentines #skz valentines day #stray kids valentine #skz drabbles #chan x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #skz x reader #skz x gn!reader

[drvnkd4zed]

Random scenarios with Enhypen

♡ Jungwon

Late night walks through the promenade with Jungwon are one of the things you love the most. Even if the cold weather is freezing your nose, the warmth from Jungwon's hands holding yours makes you forget everything. For this date, he chose to wear clothes in your favorite color and you think he looks cute in that outfit. He'd take you near the water just to trace your names on the sand with a heart in between. Jungwon would hold you tight so that the long scarf you two are sharing won't fall, but you can see him freezing so you'd convince him to rush into a bakery to get something hot to drink. "Even if the waves erase our names, they are still engraved in our hearts together" he'd say. "You're so cheesy!" you state blushing, "This hot chocolate is making me sweet".

♡ Heeseung

You two were very undecisive about which videogame you should've played that night, but in the end of a long session of rock paper scissor you finally chose a game. You two started playing at 10pm your eyes were still wide open until 2am, the laptop's heat was burning your leg but it didn't hurt, you were too focused on the game. You were so sleepy that you eventually fell asleep without even noticing, so Heeseung turned off your laptop and wrapped you in a blanket. He started caressing your hair as he was petting a sleepy kitten. Right when he kisses your forehead, you wake up to his soft lips. "Did I win?" you ask, still sleepy. "Yeah" he replies, even if you lost.

♡ Jay

"Who needs a recipe when you've got a brain" he said looking at all the ingredients he placed on the table. "Us" you told Jay, making him turn to you confused. "Don't you trust me? I'm a goog chef". Of course you trusted Jay, but he looked a little too confident and you knew it usually leads him to mess up. "You mix that and pour flour when it becomes creamy" he said. You grabbed the mixer and put it inside the bowl, but when you're about to start it, Jay stops you. "Your hair might annoy you" he explained tucking your hair behind your ears. You blushed at his touch and he noticed it. "Let me tie them up for you", he grabbed a scrunchie and tied your hair in a ponytail. As you were waiting for him to appear again by your side, you feel his hands on your stomach and his warm body hugging you from behind.

♡ Jake

Jake noticed how beautiful the sky looked that day so he wanted to take out Layla for a walk, you joined him and you two together decided to head to an old playground where no one goes anymore. It was the two of two of you, Layla and a huge amount of fallen leaves on the ground. He started raking up the leaves and jumped into them. "It's fun!" he said, inviting you to join him. In that moment, you felt a wet drop on your cheek. "We should go, it's starting to rain!". You two (and Layla) began to walk again towards home, you feel kinda sad because you really wanted to spend some time there with Jake, so you hold the umbrella with Jake, placing your hand on his.

♡ Sunghoon

You turned back to see if Sunghoon was still with you, and few meters behind you, you could spot his slender figure spacing out while holding three bags of clothes. He said he likes to take you shopping for clothes, sometimes he kept just pop out of nowhere telling you he bought you a dress thinking that'd suit you. He followed you to the fitting rooms as you wanted his opinions on the clothes you picked, "I don't want you to buy clothes that could make the others place their eyes on you" he explained crossing his arms. "It means you're not seeing me dressed like this either" you said, looking at him straight into his eyes. "Honestly the thing I love the most after carrying your bags is seeing you with the clothes that are in them"

♡ Sunoo

For your anniversary, Sunoo gifted you with some very colorful and unique flowers, while you opted for a sweeter present. You handed him a box of sweets, full of the ones he loves the most. He was so happy and excited that he kissed your lips immediately and hugged you. Your heart melted seeing how much he liked your gift, "they're all for you! no need to share them with me" you said. "Thank you for the amazing day, Y/n" he stated, holding your hand. You were so tired as you visited all the cake shops to find the best sweets for Sunoo, so you went to sleep. Your mind was full of happiness after seeing that big smile on Sunoo's face. You woke up in the middle of the night because of a scent you've smelt before. You walk to the kitchen to find out Sunoo was eating the sweets, with the happiest smile on his face. He looked so cute that you sat near him. "You chose my favorite ones, I couldn't resist".

♡ Niki

"This is you" he said as he showed you a picture of a clown. "And you're this" you replied, showing him a picture of a pigeon. "At least I fly" he said, taking a sip of his coffee. "But I don't poop on people's cars" you told him laughing. You stole his cup of coffee and took a sip right after him. "Pooping on people's car must be so funny" he continues. You giggled and hit him on his shoulder. He started booping your nose with his finger, which is something you love. "Anyways..." - he said - "About pigeons" he continued. You took another sip of coffee and nod as you were listening to him. "I adopted one and it's trapped in the basement". When he said that, you spat out your coffee shocked. "No you didn't-" you started, but he interrupted you - "I named him after you".

#kpop #enhypen #heeseung #jay #jake #sunghoon #sunoo #jungwon #niki #enhypen reactions #kpop ff #enhypen reaction #enhypen imagines #engene #enhypen fanfiction #kpop fanfictions

[seeingivy]

method acting asks!!!

first of all, thank you anon!!! you're so so kind - i'm so excited you're here in my little universe with me. I THINK I ACTUALLY SAID THIS TO SOMEONE BEFORE about francesca and work song by hozier

I think hozier has really raw and love songs that depict a very sheer devotion, which is something I think eren as a character generally possesses - which is why I think the hozier comparison is spot on. he would go through hell to hold her again, no grave will hold him down he WILL crawl back home to her

first things first, I LOVE YOU!!!!! y/n healing era makes my heart warm AND I totally agree regarding venice bitch. speaking of norman fucking rockwell (MY FAVORITE LANA ALBUM), i also think that she would write the song normal fucking rockwell about eren (back in the day, obv)

@itzmeme always spot on. chefs kiss songs from you, always.

ARGGGGGG ANON I COULD YAP FOR DAYS. I imagine edits about them are basically like the edits that people make about taylor/joe and joshua/olivia. the one that's been trending recently is the lyrics from wrecking ball that's like "I never meant to start a war, I just wanted you to let me in" lIKE PEOPLE WOULD MAKE THOSE OF THEM SO BAD.

I feel like after the documentary is released, people would also make edits of eren and y/n to that audio that transitions from midnight rain to daylight - the first clips being of like eren/hyla to eren and y/n - and you can visibly see that he's just so much happier with her.

also think that people made cunt edits of y/ns because I liked a boy performance and her look what you made me do. y/n also getting edits of her and clips of her w/ sukuna and eren to maneater like.

I love edits. you are amazing and I love your mind.

LIKE. LIKE ITS A NEED. I also think of them doing silver springs sometimes during their beef era....LIKE YOU WILL NEVER GET AWAY FROM THE SOUND OF A WOMAN THAT LOVES YOU.

@najaemism HI!!!! hi, I love you. second, I leave little hints like people like this that are perceptive about this type of thing (and I have promises to reveal all my hints when the fic is well and over) BUT EEK MY HEART GETS SO WARM WHEN PEOPLE CATCH THEM. I literally think scott street is probably what she felt so bad during that era of the fic, like the nostalgia of losing eren and realizing like all of her childhood memories will be tainted with him now

LMFAOFJDIOSFJIODSF STFU. this is so funny LIKE HE'S SO CORNY HE WOULD

another ask about necklaces BUT REAL. I also think that on their car keys they remake lego figurines of each other so that they're always with each other whenever they aren't 😁

@astroswift HARD ON THE AGREE. i've got a moment on this chapter i've been itching to write since this bitch character got introduced. and my love, you are spot on. champagne problems, is in fact, in the method acting playlist (I LOVE WHEN PEOPLE PICK UP THE CRUMBS MY HEART GETS SO WARM)

@elliesbabygirl do it. I wrote a stupid fic about gojo to speak now by taylor swift and now i'm here. yolo swag.

I WAS AT GUTS TOUR LAST NIGHT. the second she crawled on the fucking moon it was all I could think about. and seeing the grudge live just killed me thinking about the awards show that I started crying (I am in general a concert crier I had already cried at that point but it was crazy) and seeing all american bitch and REDACTED that are involved in the story too EEK I WAS GOING CRAZY she's so hot im in love with her

random last tidbit:

here's some method acting spoilers with no context for the next chapter:

a double whammy of a slap and a punch to the face

what am I to you?

the sister to lady gaga's meat dress

l/n-jaegers

matching tattoos

WHATEVER THAT ALL MEANS!!!

#asks! #method acting

[xaz-fr]

me, the most forgetful person in the world, forgetting something? Couldn't be! Anyway very overdue lair review for @korppipoika-fr x.x So sorry thank you for your patience

Look at this dog. I love this dog. Say it with me; you love this dog. I like that you actually went with a pretty bold neck/wing choice as it's easy to fall back on the standard dark or to match it with the midnight coloration of the accent. The tapir is almost a continuation of the neck smoke. Excellent dog.

Is that another good dog? Maybe. Probably. Look at THIS DOG. Real talk this skin is chef's kiss. Love the simple use of apparel to pull the skin further out of the screen. He's in the woods all alone tho with no one to pet him. Someone should def go give this dog a pet.

Now what is Charm? Is she the hedgehog? Or maybe one of the chimkins? Or is she just a cloud of smoke and aura?? Love when people use the Invisibility Cloak to make something fun/silly/spooky instead :D

Unfortunately I love him. Even if the moodboard with Padme's death lake dress has me giving you the side eye a bit. Blue and gold is SO underrated as far as color combos go but its perf.

Waht's this? Yet anothER GOOD DOG!!?!? You have so many good dogs in your lair how am I supposed to only pick one??? Love seeing an Autopilot skin out in the wild. Love her little hedgehog friend there too uwu

I love this skincent sm I love seeing it used. When I dressed it I went 'wildfire spirit' and you also went with a smokey smoldering fire motif. Love that. Like a forest fire after a rain and the ground is still smoking.

#flight rising #lair review

[chiquititaosita]

Sanji Dating a Latina | sanji x latina fem reader

this is my very first blog post about sanji i just love him so much. lmk if y’all like it 😩💕

• Sanji dating a Latina *CHEFS KISS*

• he’ll literally watch you dance along to the traditional songs, and music in general

•“she looks beautiful…” it was that moment where he had no nosebleeds, no heart eyes, it’s just him in straight up amazement.

•When you dance in the rain just happily whenever you can. Sanji asked you why you did it and you replied with

• I do it for those before me who couldn’t dance and have the freedom like I do. In this way I dance with their spirits!” you smile happily as you hear the thunder clapping as a sign from the rain lords who is saying thank you!

• “YESSS! y/NNN CHWANNN!! YOURE SO BEAUTIFUL AND AMAZING!”

• “I LOVE YOU MY DARLING ANGEL!”

• JUST LOVE THE WAY YOU DANCE WITH THE MUSIC ITS SO MAGICAL!”

• “YOU TRULY MAKE YOUR ANCESTORS PROUD!” He really just loves hyping you up. nah fr like, every time you say thank you and express gratitude towards him he’s just in awe. His love for you just grows stronger and deeper each time.

• when it came to dancing the first time it was doing zapateando which is stomping your feet (zapatos meaning shoes in Mexican Spanish). The way you span around in your technicolor dress flowing around in the air like the spirals on sanjis eyebrows. The way you laughed and mouthed along to the words gathering everyone on the island to dance to along.. he just knew that you were the one.

• “my darling are you alright? how are you feeling?! Do you need water? How are your feet? Do you want me to carry you! I’ll do that if you want to keep dancing!”

•”thank you amor I’m fine, pero people like me we have a lot of energy when it comes to dancing.”

•Sanji can learn how to dance very quick. BUT WHEN HE LEARNED BRUH HE GOT IT DOWN! The tias love him!

•he sighs in relief and in awe, blushing

“Come dance with me, I’ll guide you!” When you grabbed his hand! Sanji was blushing a deep crimson red like a tomate 🍅😭.

• When you guide him he whispers so much romantic words and sentences into your ear that leave you hiding in his chest. Everyone just hyped you up, especially your cousins.

• you have a deep care for nature and it’s creatures, literally sanji loves how highly empathic you are, for example when you met chopper.

“Aye que lindo! A venandito! Hi I’m Y/n nice to meet you!” You greeted chopper with a big hug and I feel like chopper loves hugs. You always check up on him to see if he’s okay. He fr carries the straw hats and heals everyone’s asses fr

• you ,nami and robin always have chisme to spill with each other regardless it’s not because of the straw hats it’s just in general.

BUT WHEN YOU COOK WITH HIM! YOU TAUGHT HIM HOW TO COOK SOME OF ABUELAS DISHES OMFG HIS HEART JUST MELTs! you had to make him relax and do a little bit of convincing because he’s a teeny bit stubborn

• “Please allow me to assist in cooking with you. It’s the least I can do for you when you have been doing but nothing but stressing over trying to feed everyone on this ship, and let alone make me feel welcomed like I’m a goddess, your hospitality is wonderful.” You smiled at the cook and all he could do was nothing but fall on his knees and grab his chest.this mane literally thought he was having a heart attack.

• “Y/n-San, YOURE SO KIND TO ME! OF COURSE YOU CAN HELP ME! Yourewelcometousethekitchenallthetime!” he just hugged you repeatedly, and you giggled lightly accepting this blondes embrace.

• “So you put the tortilla into the press.” you chimed, and kept complimenting him every now and than. Let’s be honest Sanji is a fast learner when it comes to cooking, and of course he took notes while watching you, sometimes when you keep mixing the food, he just doodles images of you. It actually looks like you, surprisingly it’s not realistic and it’s not a stick figure. It looks like you.

• “Y/n-Chan! You’re so nice tooo meee!” Or the “y/n -San you’re so good at this!” he sees in amazement, literally your number one hype man.

• “Okay now you put your tortilla on the skillet, and when it bubbles with brown spots you’re going to flip it over kind of like a pancake.”

•Literally bestie did with ease, his eyes were in shock.

• “Y-You use y-your h-hand!?” He couldn’t even function nor comprehend correctly, but once you explained it to him it was easier he got the hang of it.

• That was until “SANJIIII IM HUNGRYYYYY!!!!!!!!!” A familiar voice groaned. You couldn’t help but laugh, because sanji reminded you of what you and your family were like growing up. Your heart shook a little bit, of course you were startled since Luffy was so fucking loud for NO REASON AT ALL! I love him but he needs to chill no offense luffy stans. All that was happening while sanji almost burnt his palm on the skillet! pobrecito 😭

“Lunch will be out in a minute!!! Haven’t you heard of knocking?!” Luffy did his shishishi laugh and said

“NOPE!” that was until he decided to try and taste the tacos, you were making you had to ask sanji.

• “ corazón, can you just wack the captain with the wooden spoon for me, i don’t want to be considered rude!”

• He gladly smiled “Y/n-CHWAN I D BE GLADLY HONORED!”

• “GET OUT OF MY KITCHEN!” you heard him yell! as he whacked the raven haired males hand with the spoon, and he ran off with an apple laughing. you couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

•“Thank you my love, you’re very helpful!”

“No thank you! Y/n-Chan! For helping and teaching me your dishes! ‘Twas an honor! we shall do it again sometime!” you couldn’t help but smile and kiss him softly.

#sanji fluff #sanji imagine #sanji x fem reader #sanji x latina reader #midsize reader #one piece imagines #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #zoro x y/n #sanji x y/n #x reader #imagine ur fave/s (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀) #hispanic reader #fluff #ace #ace x reader #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #sanji vinsmoke

[natsbaby]

Kiss Me in the Rain

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: with you becoming stressed for your most special day, only Nat could tame the bridezilla in you

Warning: nothing!

A/N: since it’s raining at where I am right now and I remembered the notebook, I thought this would be a cute short story so I hope you guys like this one!!

“Nat!! Where are you??”

Nothing could stop the sigh that escapes your fiancée (soon to be wife)’s lips as you storm into your shared bedroom a week before your wedding, expecting the 5th meltdown from you today. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“It’s gonna rain next week! All week long!” You whine, devastated at the forecast for next week as you plop down besides Nat on the bed while she continues to read her book without glancing up from her page.

Lately, wedding plans hasn’t really gone your way so stress doesn’t even begin to describe what you’re feeling. It started with the chef you wanted to book half a year ago where you wanted his catering services but he’s not available due to another wedding, then the florists telling you 2 months ago that the flowers you wanted to order had to get cancelled because of an unexpected infestation that ruined the batch reserved for you, and the weather forecast was just your breaking point with other things not going your way.

She chuckles softly as she turns another page. “Oh my sweet baby, it’s alright if it rains next week”

“It won’t be alright because no one likes rain on formal events, and they’d all just run away for shelter while we’re drenched to the bones! I look horrible with ruined makeup, Nat” you suddenly feel the unexpected tears well up on your waterline, threatening to fall as you sniff. This definitely caught Nat’s attention as she finally turns to look at you as you continue.

“Its true tho we don’t normally care but..” you mumble as you finally open up what’s been bothering you. “What if this is just the world telling us to not get married?”

Ah, so that’s why, she thought as she bookmarks her book, placing it on the bedside table and turns to look at you as she gently runs her fingers through your hair.

You being superstitious was something Nat thought to be adorable, since admittedly the superstition side of you only manifests in relationships than anything else. You even made her chase after you for months because you wanted to have that Serendipity moment by writing your number on a dollar and spending it, hoping that one day she’d get it. Boy did it take Nat soooo long to get that dollar back just to get on a date with you.

“A little rain couldn’t hurt anyone you know” Nat explains as she gently presses a kiss on your forehead, wiping your tears away. “Besides, what’s more important? You and me, getting tied together forever or people’s complaint on a little water on their dresses or tux?”

You chuckle softly at that as you nod in agreement. “Yea..”

“Have you heard of that saying where if it rains on your wedding, it signifies more than 50 years of a happy marriage?” Your eyes widen at that, shaking your head no as it was the first time hearing it before Nat continues her train of thought. “I think our wedding photos would look really cool, just like the Notebook”

You raise your eyebrow teasingly as Nat gives you a wide teasing grin at the thought. “Come on babe, our photos would look perfect and everything else would go perfectly, even if there’d be hiccups along the way”

You hum in thought as Nat lays down besides you, taking you in her arms as you lay on your side so you could look at each other. “Are you disappointed that our nice, fall wedding might become a cold and wet one?”

She laughs softly at that before shaking her head no. “No never, even if a bear suddenly comes out and say hi”

“Why?” You couldn’t help but ask, albeit smiling softly at the silliness of what Nat said prior.

“Because I’m marrying you, I could never be disappointed when I spent a lifetime waiting for you”

#natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natalia romanova x reader #natalia romanova #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff imagine

[sanjisprincesswifey]

Hiya cherry! I saw ur requests for ur 500 follower event are open and I was wondering if I can request prompt number 7, 13, and 15 with Sanji and she/her pronouns please? Like maybe when they were in wci arc hehe angst to fluff please. Thank you!!🫶🏻💗

note: anon these prompts together are just *chefs kiss* <3 you're an absolute genius! the ending was still kinda angsty, but implies fluff so i hope that's okay :)

♡: female reader. 700+ words. minor whole cake island spoilers! content warnings: angst and mentions of bruises and scars. sfw content.

“when this is all over it’s just going to be you and me, okay sanji?”

the memory of your screams echo through sanji’s head as he desperately searches the rainy, desolate open forest for any sign of you or luffy. bodies of homies and big mom’s soldiers litter the area as he seeks to find two people; luffy and you.

his legs are trembling, maybe from all the running, maybe from his pathetic attempt to try and save you, he wasn’t quite sure.

“y/n? luffy?” he yells, his throat scratchy and hoarse from his sobs. the burden of his heartbreak weakens him to an almost pitiful state as he can barely stand anymore, the damp grass catching his frail body.

“y/n? where—where are you? please say something!” he wails, the burning of his throat is painful, but he knows he deserves it after what he did to you. “i—i don’t need anyone else! i just need…you,” he weeps, the shivering rattling his whole body, “you’re all i need.”

sanji lies on the ground, blond hair pressed against the grass, hand gripping his hair as his sobs echo across the vicinity. the thunderous rain can’t even drown out the pain of the sobs that rise from his chest.

“s—sanji?” a voice calls.

sanji’s head shoots up, desperately looking in the direction the voice came from. he spots a familiar head of dark hair leaning up against a toppled-over tree. he darts in that direction, almost tripping over his own long legs in his haste.

“luffy!” sanji tearfully says, dropping onto the ground next to him and tossing him the picnic basket. “w—where’s y/n? i—i, need to see her! where is she?” he begs.

luffy scoots to the side, revealing you right behind him, lying down on the ground with luffy’s strawhat in your hand. sanji gasps when he is able to get a clear view of you, bloodied and surely bruised underneath your clothing. sanji falls to his knees once again, the sting of the cuts in his skin not even bothering to him as he reaches out to you.

“she fought with me, as much as she could anyway. and she got hurt pretty bad, but she insisted on waiting for you here with me. she said she wouldn’t move an inch,” luffy informs, resting his head on the log behind him.

sanji brushes some loose strands of your hair back, lips quivering at the sight of you. you stir at his touch, mumbling something under your breath. “mmm? sanji?” you ask, rubbing your eyes awake.

“i’m here, my swan. i’m here and i won’t ever leave you again, i—i promise,” he assures, allowing you to rest your head in his lap. you only hum in response, and he can only assume it’s from your lack of food or medical aid.

“i’m just glad you’re back, i missed you,” you mumble, the rumbling of your stomach louder than luffy’s. sanji cringes at the state of the food he had brought for you too knowing it wasn’t sufficient for a woman of your beauty.

luffy holds out his hand to you, the mush of foods together causes sanji to furrow his nose in, disgusted that he brought something of this nature to you. “here y/n, you need to eat,” luffy suggests. and before sanji can smack it out of your hand, you grab the food and take a bite.

in shock, he watches as you take a handful of the mess of food and smile brightly at him. “mmm sanji, this is delicious!” you cheer, happy to have his food back.

sanji cannot stop the onslaught of tears that fall down his face as he clings to your fragile body, “i’m so sorry y/n,” he whimpers, salty tears falling and staining your already ruined dress.

“it’s okay,” you giggle, “just don’t leave again, okay?”

he shakes his head, “i won’t, i promise,” he assures, kissing the back of your hand in plea.

“i’ve lost so many things, but i can’t lose you,” you whisper, looming in and out of consciousness due to your wounds as you weakly reach up to cup his cheek.

he clings to your hand, nodding his head feverishly, “you won’t lose me.”

like, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! (✿◠‿◠)

#black leg sanji #sanji x reader #one piece #one piece x reader

[dark-night-insomniac]

| Sua’s spin-off of The Crimson Prince and the Witch

| Genre: witch sua x bandit gn! reader, medieval au, fluff & angst + a lot of references/easter eggs from The Crimson prince and the witch

Word count: 3111

| Warning: blood, fighting, cuts, threats, stealing, cursing, suggestive tension, sadist Sua? historical inaccuracies

| Cast: Sua & You, royal guards

A/n; this photo of Sua is just *chef’s kiss*, after i saw people’s simping over Sua in the Crimson prince’s story, i decided to make that character its own story for you all to enjoy although im late

—----/—--------------------/—------------------

You who wandered at night…

adventures like no other, ones that would suffice your hunger for the time being,

Usually cold and lonely, the stars had another plan for this night

————-

In the Crimson Kingdom, witch hunt wasn’t something born from the last rain, although it was always a sport that was hidden from the public.

The King was very well aware of the plague that dispersed throughout his kingdom. Witches' covens kept appearing and children disappearing for what he only assumed was the conversion of their beliefs and maybe far worse.

You? You didn’t believe those rumors. Why would people with such powers be interested in the common mortal?

You were an orphan, abandoned at a young age and retrieved from a crumbling barn. Although grateful to them, you never liked your adoptive family, resulting in you wandering around at night. Never opting on staying in their home.

Stealing anything one could here and there to survive. Sometimes you’d bring some food to your adoptive family’s dog. You kept telling yourself that one day you’d be able to bring him with you, save him from the famine he would live on and off of.

Your life consisted of sleeping in abandoned buildings during the day and wandering at night for necessities. When necessary, you’d wash your dirty body and clothes in the small river near the village, drying your clothes on the tree branches around. Luckily, your leather cape was never one to require much cleaning, giving you something to keep warm while your clothes dried.

You laid by the roots of a tree. Leather cape caressing your bare body to hide it from any wandering eyes. After this long night, your eyes felt heavy, invisible weight attached to each of your eyelashes. You let yourself indulge in the tranquility of the night before drifting off. While the night would scare most away, you loved the darkness and the comfort it would bring you. Feeling as though the empty space around you was filled with loving entities whom you could only wish were from the physical realm.

Satisfied with your day, or night that is, you finally let your eyes close.

—-

You were woken up by distant shouts. Your body immediately shot up at the sound, quickly grabbing some of your clothes to cover.

You succeeded in dressing yourself in underwear before hearing another shout, this time closer. You squinted at the horizon before a small hooded figure ran past you.

Must be one of those bandits running away from the guards…

Realization hit you then

‘’Wait, I also am a bandit.’’ You cursed yourself before ducking under the roots of a tree.

‘’How lucky of me’’ you gritted through your teeth. Of course, another bandit had to cross your path and bring along some guards!

You hid and held your breath. You watched as a few men dressed in the Crimson’s palace color passed by. ‘’Why were they here anyway?’’ you wondered, your eyes never losing sight of the threat.

You felt something gently butt itself against your bare leg. Slightly turning around, you noticed the culprit. A black cat. Although it seemed to like you, you weren’t so sure about the creature. Opting to push it away from you, scared it would your position away.

‘’Psst, not now’’ you reprimanded the cat before it meowed at you. Your heart stopped. ‘’Why did you have to be so loud?’’ you cursed at it, whispering for it to leave you alone.

Once your attention was turned back to the guards, you noticed one wandering close to your hideout.

‘’I believe to have heard a cat around here sir’’ one exclaimed

‘’The witch might have transformed into a cat to escape us, you may now search for the small animal’’ What seemed to be the leader of the group replied.

‘’Witches?’’

*meow*

Your eyes went wide as you stared back at the nonchalant creature. You were about to scold it but were stopped by a loud voice ordering you to get out of hiding. You cursed under your breath, staring back at the guard.

You fainted surrendering before making a run for it.

You heard loud shouts following behind as you ran between the bushes and trees. Although you were quite agile, an unexpected obstacle seemed to have stopped you.

The unknown obstacle forced you to the ground, making you fall to then be pulled away.

You were pulled under a tree before a hand made its way onto your face. Your eyes were now filled with fear and panic, thinking you were caught and would be executed for all your crimes.

But at last, you were met with the reassuring gaze of an unknown woman. She shushed you, pinning you down to the ground to assure you wouldn't make any noises.

The both of you stayed hidden for a few minutes, her body above yours and her hand still stopping you from making any noise.

When she judged the coast was clear, she pushed herself off of you, finally letting you breathe.

You looked at her, still a bit shocked

‘’Who are you?’’

‘’I see, I suppose I shall present myself first’’ she smiled, ‘’You may call me Sua, although I believe we won't meet again’’ she harshly stated

You stayed silent, trying to analyze her attire. Your guess was for her to be a bandit, but she looked at you, and you noticed glyphs marked on her neck and hands.

‘’ You’re a Witch?’’

‘’And you’re half naked’’ she stated with a small smirk

The words made you jump, realizing you indeed had no more than a few pieces of clothing on. You quickly tried hiding with whatever was at your reach, making her laugh.

Her eyes wandered up and down your body before looking back to your eyes again. ‘’Well if you’d excuse me, I will be on my way…dear stranger’’ she winked before exiting from under the tree.

‘’It’s Y/n’’ you replied to her, still flustered from the encounter. She simply nodded at you with a smirk before completely disappearing.

You pulled yourself out from under the tree, covered with dirt on some of your freshly washed clothes. You dusted yourself before making your way back to where the rest of your clothes were hanging.

You pulled each piece from the branches before covering yourself with them.

As you did, you caught yourself thinking about your earlier encounter. ‘’Looks like there are some witches in town’’

You couldn't remember the last time you’d seen royal guards around these parts of town. The only reason they were ever sent here was for their so-called witch hunting, ordered by the king.

But the woman you crossed paths with did not seem to be much of a treat. Maybe she had been no more then a a bandit, like you.

—-

The sun having once again fallen, you prepared for your nightly excursion.

You gathered your dagger and a satchel before exiting your refuge from the night before, an abandoned farm not far from the river.

You entered the quiet streets of the village. Flames flickering, fire embers flying around and the unmistakable smell of booze was now surrounding you. Regardless of the few drunken villagers stumbling around, you weren’t to be stopped from your nightly errands. You were reminded of it when your stomach grumbled yet again.

You would usually stick to this part of town, one of the less enriched portions of it. But tonight, you felt like daring your luck as you stepped closer to the richer portion of town. You could usually find enough around here, but tonight you wanted to gather more, wanting to venture out of town the next day.

You notice a tall home in the distance. Its unnecessary amount of gold ornery covering the walls piqued your interest.

Making sure to not be seen, you rounded the home to finally find a slightly ajar window.

You let yourself into the house without a noise. Walking slowly to what you hoped would be this family’s food supply.

You taunted your way around, finally finding a small lock to break into. You kneeled before the box, reaching for your lockpick before inserting the small bronze piece into the lock.

You successfully opened the box and grabbed a few loaves of bread from it. But when you turned around, you were met with a small girl, sleepily staring at you.

‘’Oh, hi there, I'm your mom’s friend’’ you whispered to her, hoping your lies would be enough to get you out of there.

She didn’t seem to hear you, as she took a step back before screaming for help. You ran back to the window only to realize this wasn’t the same room. You tried thinking quickly as you heard more and more voices throughout the home. You looked up for an escape.

‘’That will do for now’’ You helped yourself up a wooden beam near the top of the cathedral ceiling. If you could hide long enough for them to go back to sleep, you’d be out without being hurt, which you couldn't afford to be. You lay flat on the wooden beam, trying to slow down your fastening heartbeat.

The door was heard slamming open and a new voice spoke up. He seemed to be questioning the little girl about the incident.

‘’Is it still in your home?’’ he questioned

‘’yes they were stealing from us’’ she sniffled

‘’I see’’

‘’Sir, I will ask you and your family to safely wait outside while we catch it’’ another explained

After a few footsteps, silence.

‘’I can’t believe witches are invading our citizens' homes now’’ one exclaimed, making the other laugh

‘’You should consider yourself lucky we got some action in these parts of town’’

They kept talking nonchalantly as they made their way around the house.

You breathed in, nervous as to what would be the outcome.

Hearing some shuffling, you looked around the candle-lit room. You were about to abandon the idea of finding the source when you felt something on your chest. You looked up to see that black cat once again. Although the creature probably wanted to be friendly, the action made you jump and fall off the beam, making you known to the other occupants of the house. You groaned, feeling your bones aching from the impact. the cat ran out of the room and you decided on following it. It thankfully leads you back to the open window, jumping first to go back outside.

As you made your way to the window, A man shouted at you

‘’Stay still witch!’’

You quickly jumped out only to be met with another guard outside. He tried impaling you, missing your chest by a few inches, leaving a nasty cut to your arm. You were about to retaliate when a few guards appeared behind him. That was your cue to run, disappearing into the woods.

—-

After running for what felt like an hour, you let yourself fall against the grass. You slightly turned to lay on your back before feeling up your arm. Your sleeve was bloodied. You could start feeling the adrenaline fading away and the pain let itself known.

You breathed out before sitting up. You looked around you and found yourself in a bizarre place. A well-lit village was before you in the distance. Flowers and cabins of all colors were bestowed upon you. You weren’t exactly sure how to feel at the sight of it. But you needed to rest.

You gently pushed yourself back up before walking further into the unknown village. The night was starting to get cold and you felt immensely tired after your escape. You wandered around, looking for any nooks to hide under.

That’s when you saw it, a wooden trap on the ground. You decided on opening it and let yourself in. A roof was better than what you imagined finding. You entered the small room which was very well decorated.

Content with your find, you laid down on the carpet that was covering the cold ground. You don't remember falling asleep, too exhausted to fight any doubt that was swimming through your mind.

—-

Whilst your slumber was quite peaceful, your awakening, not so much. You were presented with a dark hooded figure above you, compressing your chest to seemingly keep you in place. You tried moving but felt a blade against the skin of your neck, stopping you from wanting to move any further.

You could barely see your opponent.

‘’Who are you’’ the woman sternly asked

‘’I’m innocent’’ you pleaded, unsure of whom you were facing

The woman slapped you

‘’I asked, who are you’’ she repeated

‘’I promise I was not stealing from your place, I was simply looking for refuge’’ you tried explaining as she slowly pressed harder on your chest.

‘’How do I know your not a witch hunter?’’ she asked, letting her blade run up to your face, making your squirm

‘’I was chased here by witch hunters’’ you breathlessly explained

The weight was lifted from your chest at that moment. The woman brought light closer to your face only to gasp.

‘’I’ve seen you before’’ she exclaimed.

You hadn't noticed before but the woman was the same who had saved you a few days ago. You watched as a glint of amusement seemed to be reflecting through her eyes.

‘’What are you doing here?’’

‘’I told you already’’ you harshly replied

At your comment, you swore you could see flames rise within her eyes

‘’And I'm asking you again, what are you doing here’’ she glared at out, knife in hand

‘’I escaped the hunters, I needed a place to rest’’

she hummed in acknowledgment. ‘’Well at least now you're fully dressed’’ she teased before turning around to exit the room.

‘’Wait, where are you going’’ you exclaimed

She huffed before turning back to you. ‘’follow me’’

You hurriedly stood up to follow her steps. Exiting the room, she made her way down one of the many paths around. She approached a cabin painted an emerald green. She opened the door and made a sign for you to enter.

Once inside, you noticed a small animal laying on her bed. The black cat.

‘’Is this cat yours?’’ you asked curiously

‘’Yes she is’’ she smiled before pushing you down onto her bed.

You were confused by her actions

‘’What are you doing’’

‘’Well from what I assume, I may be saving your life’’ she simply explained before cutting your right sleeve off with her knife.

‘’Quite the nasty cut there’’ she added

You looked down to see what she was referring to. Your skin was turning black around the incisions the guard had left. You winced at the sight.

Without any warning, Sua poured what you assumed to be alcohol on the wound. The pain was unbearable as she kept pouring the content down your arm. You tried stopping her, reaching for the bottle with your left arm. But you weren’t quick enough. Making her grin teasingly at you.

‘’I'm helping you dear, stay still now’’ she commanded before pouring more onto the wound

You groaned, feeling every inch of your arms burning. A few seconds later, she pulled away, placing the bottle on a shelf before coming back with some tools and a thread. Your eyes turned wide and your breathing quickened.

‘’I will fix my arm once at home’’ you quickly jutted out, trying to stop her

‘’If I don't close the wound now, there might be other things getting under your skin during your travels’’ she explained

You looked between her eyes and the tools she was holding.

‘’You will be fine y/n’’, surprised by the mention of your name, you failed to notice picking at your wound, quickly pulling a wooden shard out from it.

‘’Owe, would you be careful with my arm’’ you expressed slightly angered

‘’I can be gentle with your face, as for your body…I cannot make any promises’’ she smiled

‘’right’’ you replied huffing, making her laugh

‘’Don’t worry I'll be quick’’ she smirked before pricking a needle into your skin. You looked down at your arm, watching her work, slowly sewing your skin back together. You gritted your teeth through the pain. Thankfully, the burn from the alcohol made your skin somewhat numb.

After a few movements, she approached the deepest part of your wound. Not able to stop yourself, you grabbed onto her arm to stop her. You were about to plead for her to stop again, but what happened next made you forget whatever pain she was inflicting on you.

She grabbed your face to lay an intoxicating kiss on your lips, letting her finish the stitching.

As she kept your attention on her, she quickly tried finishing the stitching, making you whimper within her hold, to which she simply hummed against your lips.

She let go of your face a few seconds later, retreating from your arm to bring some bandages to cover her work.

You sat there frozen, unsure of how to feel about what had just happened. Sua noticed and laughed all while applying the bandage.

Once she was done, you looked at your arm, now wrapped up.

‘’T-thank you’’ you expressed your gratitude, trying to hide your obvious flustered state.

‘’No problem dear’’ she smiled ‘’You should be healing from now on’’ she winked

Without another word, you stood up to make your way toward the door.

‘’I’ll be heading back home’’ you stated

‘’What home?’’ she asked curiously

You looked down, suddenly saddened by her question, realization hitting you. She was right…what home?

You looked back up, ‘’Wherever the winds brings me’’

‘’I hope the winds brings you here more often than’’ she smiled, finally letting the same feature draw itself onto your face

‘’So do I, Sua. Thank you again’’ you bowed

‘’You can come to me whenever you're injured y/n’’ she winked making you blush

‘’I’ll see you soon then Sua’’ you smiled before leaving her house.

And true to your words, you did see Sua not too long after this encounter. You’d visit her at first for some wounds to be treated, but as time went on, you let yourself visit her with the only reason being your want to become closer to her. Sua had also grown fonder of you, getting attached to that smile of yours as well as your lips. Eventually, she asked for you to stay with her. Finally, you had a place to call home.

Ironic after all, two outcasts falling for each other at last. A Bandit and a Witch.

#dreamcatcher x reader #dreamcatcher imagines #dreamcatcher scenarios #dreamcatcher au #sua x reader #sua imagines #sua scenarios #sua au #bora x reader #bora imagines

[iris-writesx]

the rain is always gonna come if you’re standing with me | stede x ed x izzy

read it here or read it on ao3 <3

i’ve spent about a week writing down details and plans for this au that i’m starting, and i planned to introduce it with a fluffy christmas fic, but i had a bad mental health day and projected my heart and soul into stede and this is the result. i’m sorry if this was a rambled mess or if some of it doesn’t make sense, most of it is based on my own experience. sending love to anybody who can relate <3

but first au!!! yay!!! i love these guys with my whole heart and the idea of them in love and living together is just *chef’s kiss*

let me know if you like it! and if you want to see other things! i feel like this isn’t the best opener to the au as things i have planned are more lore heavy but i kinda like this so here you go akdnwkf

title is from “peace” by taylor swift x

4.6k words — modern day au, hurt-comfort, anxiety, dissociation, panic attacks

more from this au; and now i see daylight

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Stede didn’t know why.

He didn’t know why it happened — why sometimes, the pit inside of him opened up wide enough to swallow him whole. Didn’t know what caused it, why he felt that way, he just… did.

And he hated it. He hated not being able to talk to people, zoning out, barely able to do anything other than listen to music and cry. He forced himself through the motions of the day — breakfast, drive himself and Izzy to work, do work, eat lunch, go home, have dinner, shower, sleep — but on days when he didn’t feel good, it seemed mechanical. Like following instructions. Not like… not like life.

He could tell when he woke up to an empty bed that it was a bad day. Stede was usually the first one awake, and unless he’d been up late the previous night or sick — and he was neither — then it was going to be a bad day.

He was zoned out as he sat up, pulling on one of Ed’s shirts and his joggers, barely focused on anything as he sipped from the water he kept by the bed. His head felt like it was underwater, a little numb and a little thick, and by the time he had made it to the kitchen he felt like a puppet on strings.

The first gut punch of the day was that Ed had already left for work.

Usually, they all woke up together and had about an hour until Ed had to leave first, as the garage he worked at opened at eight o’clock. Stede knew that people wouldn’t be going to a library that early, so he chose not to open his shop — his shop, would have usually made him smile, but it did nothing to cut through the fuzz in his head — and instead opened closer to ten o’clock. Though, he and Izzy got there an hour earlier to set up for the day.

Stede stopped in the doorway of the living room, blinking. Izzy — already dressed and sipping his morning coffee — was in his armchair, and the spot where Ed would usually be was empty.

Part of Stede was upset that he hadn’t come to say goodbye, or Izzy hadn’t woken him up, but he knew they wanted him to get enough sleep. Probably just thought he was tired.

“Stede?”

Stede blinked, eyes back on Izzy, face a little flushed when he realised he must’ve zoned out. He cleared his throat and put on a smile, one that didn’t even feel convincing. “Morning, darling. When did Ed leave?”

“About ten minutes ago. Was just about to come wake you up, are you okay?” Izzy had that look — the one he got when he was worried, looking for whatever was wrong.

Stede put more effort into his smile that time and nodded, forced himself to walk further into the room and over to his partner. “I’m perfect, was just a little tired last night,” he leaned down to kiss Izzy, felt his partner’s hand squeezing his waist lightly. “Did you sleep well, love?”

—

Stede mechanically followed through the rest of his morning.

He had a tea with Izzy, before he went to get dressed in the first clothes he could find, didn’t spend half an hour putting an outfit together like he usually would. If Izzy noticed he was quick, he didn’t mention it.

He skipped breakfast, told Izzy he just fancied a pastry from the café tucked away at the back of his library — the café that Izzy worked at, so really, it was a terrible lie because he’d know if Stede didn’t eat anything. The thought of eating made his stomach turn, he didn’t want anything.

He got his bag for work, made sure Izzy had everything he needed, before going out to the car and drove them there.

He unlocked his shop, and busied himself getting set up; put new books out, organised shelves, greeted the staff as they all showed to work. He let Lucius talk away to him behind the counter about his date with Pete — who coincidentally worked at the garage with Ed — but Stede couldn’t really recall much from the conversation. He hadn’t really been listening.

It was a Sunday, so the saving grace there was that they could get out early, and Ed would be home before them for once since he got off work at lunch time. But they barely had many customers on Sundays, people preferred to be cozy at home.

That’s where Stede wanted to be. Curled up in bed, not thinking, not conscious.

The morning dragged, and by the time twelve o’clock rolled around Stede couldn’t take the silence of the store anymore. The lack of customers and the silence meant that he had time to think — about how much of a failure he was, and how Izzy and Ed probably preferred each other over him, and how he couldn’t be normal, how he couldn’t, he just-

Stede put the stack of books down that he had been carrying and dug into his pockets, pulled out his phone, and his other hand searched for his earbuds.

On days like that, he learned that music helped a little. And a little was enough to keep him sane enough until he could go home.

But his other pocket was empty.

“Lucius?” Stede looked over at him, forced a smile. “Could you stay by the desk for a minute? I need to go out back for something.”

Once Lucius had waved him off he quickly walked through the door behind the desk and into the staff room, searching for where he had put his bag. He found it next to Izzy’s, and every moment that passed as he rooted through it and didn’t find his earbuds, the more worked up he got.

He even resorted to digging through Izzy’s bag, just in case he had dropped them in there by accident, but he couldn’t find them.

He hadn’t brought them.

It was such a silly thing, but it was enough for Stede’s eyes to well with tears, huffed out breaths as he leant against the wall and tried to keep from crying.

But he was so… so strung out, and tired, and overwhelmed, and he couldn’t even stop his stupid brain from overthinking he just-

He choked on a sob and, mortified, covered his mouth with his hands in the hopes that Lucius hadn’t heard him.

Once the damn had broken he had no hope of mending it again, so he stood like a child in the corner of his office and cried.

On days like that Stede wished he could just… stop existing. Disappear. Not have to deal with- with whatever this was.

He was still trying to muffle his crying into his hands when the door opened, and his eyes widened when he looked up to see who had walked in, expecting Lucius or Frenchie — the two who predominantly worked in the library section of his shop with him — but it was Izzy.

He looked just as shocked as Stede did, he clearly hadn’t been expecting to see Stede breaking down in the staff room.

“Stede?” Izzy pushed the rest of the way into the room, shut the door behind him, and wasted no time in going over to hold Stede’s shoulders.

He couldn’t tell if he was more comforted by Izzy’s presence or embarrassed.

“S-sorry-” he sniffled, looked anywhere but at Izzy’s face. “I- god I’m okay, I just- fuck I’m sorry, Iz- Izzy-”

“Stede,” Izzy squeezed his shoulders, his voice hard and grounding. “Take it easy, okay?”

But he couldn’t, not now that he had opened the barrier. Stede all but fell apart, choking on his tears and mumbled apologies and just- he couldn’t help it. He felt so embarrassed and stupid and ugly, and there was nothing he could do.

He only registered the familiar ache in his chest when he felt Izzy’s grip tighten, and he shook him a little, and it was only then that Stede realised that Izzy was talking to him, he just hadn’t been focusing enough to hear it.

The only thing he could focus on was the drumming of his heart against his rib cage, the ache in his chest that was there because-

Oh god he couldn’t breathe.

Izzy shook him again, a little more violently, and Stede blinked at him, eyes wide and choking on his sobs and not getting enough air in-

Izzy grasped one of his hands and pulled it forwards, laid it upon his chest. And though his drumming heartbeat and the buzzing in his ears stopped him from hearing Izzy, he could see what he was doing — he had exaggerated his breaths and kept Stede’s hands firmly planted on his chest, allowed him to feel the steady rise and fall, to let him copy it.

It took a little bit of time for him to fall into the rhythm of it. By the time he had stopped crying heavily enough to actually make a decent effort, he had both hands planted on Izzy’s chest and his eyes screwed shut, just let himself focus on the rise and fall of his chest.

Rise, inhale, fall, exhale; over and over and over.

Stede couldn’t tell if they had been at it for minutes or hours, but eventually he had calmed enough to breathe steadily. The tears were still falling but they were merely silent streams, nothing as- as dramatic as before.

Stede’s hands slipped from Izzy’s chest, and with what little energy he had drained, he opened his eyes to look at Izzy. And the expression he had on his face was so… so mortified. He hadn’t meant to worry him, or freak him out. Just the thought that he had upset him made his eyes brim with more tears.

Izzy sighed, and didn’t say anything as he took Stede into his arms, let him melt against his body. His arms held Stede tightly, and despite himself he felt good. Izzy had always been a firm presence, a stronghold for Stede. Where Ed tended to be better with words, Izzy made him feel safe.

He stood there for a while longer. Felt Izzy’s hands as they dragged up the length of his back and back down rhythmically, like they weren’t both missing their shifts by being shut away in the staff room.

Stede was the one to pull away, and the next time he looked at Izzy he still looked just as worried.

“Sorry,” his voice was hoarse as he lifted his hands to wipe at his eyes, took a deep shaking breath. “Sorry, Iz- thank you, you didn’t need to- that was very nice of you.”

Izzy frowned. “You want to tell me what has you so tightly wound?”

“It-” Stede hesitated. He’d never really… vocalised how he got on those days to Izzy and Ed. They knew he had anxiety, and that sometimes he had bad days, but he’d never told them what it was like, what to look for. And, in the middle of both of their shifts, it certainly wasn’t the time to get into that discussion, so he settled on, “I left my earbuds at home,” Stede paused, suddenly embarrassed at how silly he sounded. “I know that sounds stupid, I’m not- I mean, I’m okay I just- I think I’m a little stressed and I just wanted to listen to music but without the buds I, well, can’t.”

“That’s not stupid,” Izzy shook his head, like he knew something else was wrong. “But you won’t need them anymore.”

Stede frowned. “Well I- I mean, we’re working until four so I hardly think I’ll survive the shift without them,” he exhaled deeply, wiped his eyes again, before looking back at Izzy. “Do I look okay? I don’t want customers to tell I’ve been crying.”

“Are you fucking insane?” Izzy scowled. “You aren’t going back to work, Stede, you almost just fucking collapsed.”

“…that’s a bit of an overstatement.”

Izzy glared at him. “We’re going home. Come on.” He left no room for argument as he stepped around Stede and collected both of their bags, tossed Stede’s jacket at him, and hung his own over his arm, before he was shepherding Stede back out of the office and into the library.

“We’re going home,” Izzy announced to Lucius as they walked by, and Stede made sure not to look up at him so he couldn’t see the tears on his face. “Stede feels unwell.”

“What?” Lucius groaned. “That leaves four of us to run this whole shebang, Iz.”

“This place is fucking empty, shut the shop. Go home early.” Izzy didn’t let Lucius add anything else as he just pushed Stede out of the shop and out towards the car park.

The cold air felt nice on his tear stained face, and Stede made sure to take some more deep breaths as they walked to the car. He didn’t even ask to drive — just let Izzy direct him to the passenger seat, where he got all buckled up and just let himself sit.

Izzy got into the drivers side and connected his phone to the car’s Bluetooth — which had taken literally months for Stede to teach him how to do it — and once they were driving he called Ed.

“Izzy,” Ed’s voice came through the car’s speakers. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“We’re on our way back now,” Izzy informed him. “Stede had a panic attack…”

Stede let himself zone out as he watched out of the window at the cars and trees that whipped past.

It was sat in his own thoughts that Stede realised how truly embarrassing the past hour had been. He was an adult, why did he need music playing to keep it together? Why had he gone into a panic attack over it? And Izzy… he’d probably made him so worried. He made him shut the store for him, all because he couldn’t keep it together.

Nothing was even wrong it was just… just his fucking mind, if anything was wrong it was him, him and his stupid thoughts and his-

There was a tight squeeze on his thigh and Stede jumped, startled, and whipped his head around to see Izzy looking at him.

“Sorry,” Izzy winced at his scare. “We’re home now.”

Stede looked back out of the window, actually focused, to see that they really were back home. The front door opened and he watched as Ed walked outside, giving a wave to the car, and by the look on his face — the poorly masked worry — Stede could only wonder what Izzy had said to him on the phone when he had zoned out.

Izzy took the bags again, so when he got out of the car Stede only had to grab his jacket. All of his movements, again, felt mechanical. Didn’t feel natural.

The only thing that did feel a little closer to normal were Ed’s arms around him once he was out of the car.

“Hey love,” Ed breathed into his hair, and Stede just sunk himself into his embrace. Ed was warm and familiar, it felt like hugging Izzy; good. “Iz said you had a bit of a moment at work. All okay?”

Stede clenched his jaw and nodded. A familiar feeling had built up in his throat, and he knew that if he spoke then he’d just cry.

“I made you some tea, that herbal shit you like. It’s in the living room. Thought you might wanna wear something comfy, too, so I got some clothes out for you to change into, that jumper of mine you can’t keep your hands off of-”

Ed cut himself off when Stede sobbed. He didn’t even know why he was crying at this point. It was just… his partners were so kind. He didn’t deserve it.

“Oh babe,” Ed squeezed him tight, rubbed his back. “Let’s get you inside, okay? We’ll get you all cozy, you’ll be okay.”

Stede nodded — he couldn’t say anything because he couldn’t stop crying — so he let Ed tighten his arm around his shoulders before he led him into the house, just behind Izzy who, Stede realised, had been waiting by the door worriedly. Between the two of them they got Stede over the threshold and into the house, where he was guided to just sit on the sofa in the living room. The change of clothes could wait — Stede didn’t even know if he had the energy to change.

He felt like he had been awake for a week straight. He felt like he wasn’t really there.

Ed had planted himself on the sofa right beside him, and when Stede focused on it he realised that he was rubbing his back, long firm. He let himself focus on that, dragging in breaths in time with the movement.

“You’re alright, mate,” Ed murmured beside him, pressed kisses to Stede’s shoulder in between his words. “We’ve got you, you’re okay.”

“Stede,” he only looked up when he heard Izzy’s voice in front of him, and realised he had a mug in his hand — the tea that Ed had promised. “Here.”

Stede forced a tearful smile as he took the mug in his hands, blinked through the blurriness of his vision as he sipped from the drink.

He wasn’t even sure if he was tasting it.

Instead of taking up his usual seat in his armchair, Izzy sat himself on the coffee table in front of the sofa, in front of Ed and Stede.

“What do you need, love?” Ed murmured from his side, voice soft, and to be completely honest Stede just wanted to stop being so useless. But he knew Ed wouldn't take well to hearing those words.

Stede shrugged, glanced between Ed and Izzy, but when he felt his face burning from the shame of his actions that day he just shrugged and locked his eyes onto his tea. “I don’t know,” he whispered, sniffled through his tears. “I- I’m sorry I don’t- I’m okay I just- it’s silly-”

“If you fucking say that one more time-” Izzy started grumbling in front of him, but shut himself up when Ed gave a swift nudge to his leg.

“What Izzy means to say,” Ed rubbed his back again. “Was that it’s not silly, mate. You’re having a bad day.”

Stede nodded, though didn’t look up nor did he speak. He just sipped his drink slowly, let the embarrassment swallow him whole.

It really was shameful, the whole thing. He was a grown man, he shouldn’t have days where he was so out of control of his own emotions — toddlers had days like that, not- not men. If his father could see him he’d be even more disappointed than usual—

His heart was thumping in his chest again; he could feel it as it sped up, drumming loudly and too fast and almost too forcefully—

What made it worse was that it clearly had such an effect on Izzy and Ed, and Stede hated that; hated that Izzy had to calm him down from a panic attack over nothing, that he had to leave work early, that Ed had to worry and make him a drink and lay clothes out for him like a child. He knew, he knew, that they cared — Stede had never felt so cared for in his whole life, he truly felt like it was the first time he had people who saw him. But that didn’t mean he had to make them worry, had to burden them. Their lives couldn’t revolve around him—

He could feel his heartbeat in his head, in his ears, against his rib cage—

Stede just needed to grow up, needed to-

“Stede-”

He flinched when his cup was wrenched from his hands, tea slopped over the side of the mug, and his eyes were wide as he just stared at Izzy, who was just staring back, holding the mug.

“I-” Stede inhaled, his hands started to shake. “I was- I was going to drink it, Iz, I’m sure it’s lovely-”

“You almost dropped it,” Ed supplied from his side. “You just- fuck, man, you were just staring at the floor for a while and then I thought you were gonna fuckin’ pass out on us.”

He looked at Ed — Ed, who was usually so cheery and smiley, who looked almost gaunt with his worry — and at Izzy — Izzy, who had that look on his face again — and Stede had to swallow through the sudden nausea that clenched in his stomach.

He was being too much for them. He didn’t need to bother them.

“I’m sorry, I’m- I’m sorry, loves, I didn’t- didn’t mean to worry you-” Stede breathed, before his bottom lip trembled and he forced out, “I- I can go and stay at Lucius’, he w-won’t mind, I can just-”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Izzy blurted out. “Why would you- do you want to stay there?”

“No!” Stede choked out, his heartbeat quickening again. “No I- I want to be here but I’m just worrying you both because- because my mind is so stupid and won’t work today and I just-”

“Okay, okay, we get it, easy love,” Ed brought his arm around him and tucked Stede into the curve of his side, pressed his lips to the crown of his head. “You aren’t going anywhere, okay? We want you right here.”

Stede sniffled into Ed’s shirt, utterly exhausted. All he had been doing for what felt like the past few hours was just cry, and he wanted to just stop. His eyes squeezed shut, not quite sobbing, but he did huff out through his tears, mumbled, “I’m so tired.”

He felt a hand as it squeezed his knee, and he didn’t even look, knew it was Izzy. His hand dropped down to cover it with his own trembling fingers.

“What’s going on, hm?” Ed was just murmuring against his head, and it felt nice. His breath was something Stede could focus on, felt it as it hit his skin with every word. “Did something happen at work? Shitty customers? I’ll come down there, Stede, and feed them their fucking teeth I swear-”

“No,” Stede let out a quiet wet laugh, shook his head. “No, it’s not… it’s not anything, really.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” Izzy grumbled, squeezed his knee again.

“It’s…” Stede sighed, blinked through his tears and looked between the two of them. “It’s hard to explain. I’m sure you don’t want to be bored by my silly little story-”

“Hey,” Izzy squeezed his knee a little harsher than before and Stede jumped, looked up to meet his eyes. “If it’s causing you this much grief it’s not silly, okay? Stop downplaying this shit, Stede. It matters.”

Stede blinked at Izzy, swallowed the lump in his throat, and forced a nod. “Sorry,” he breathed. “I’m just…” he inhaled, unsure how to put it, and gestured between them all. “I’m not used to… to people caring.”

Both Izzy and Ed seemed to deflate, then, and Stede almost wished to take it back… but Ed kissed his temple and Izzy pulled his hand up and kissed his fingers, and maybe he didn’t need to take it back.

“Well we certainly care, so tell us what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.” Ed punctuated his words with another kiss to his head.

Stede looked down at his lap, curled his fingers of his spare hand into the material of his sleeve. “So… um, so, you both know how I can sometimes maybe get… well, how I do get — quite often actually — um, anxious,” he watched as both of them nodded before he continued, “well, sometimes it… it really overwhelms me and it just… it sticks and doesn’t go away and I don’t know what causes it, but I just feel really detached, but at the same time overwhelmed, and- and there’s nothing that helps I just feel… I just feel really shitty.”

There was certainly a lot more that he could have said, explained it better, but from the looks on his partners faces they seemed to get the gist of it.

Stede was expecting one of them to say something, whether it was something good or something bad — realistically he knew that wouldn’t happen, but nothing about his thought process that day had been realistic — so he momentarily froze in shock when Izzy leaned forwards and kissed him. It took him a moment for his body to catch up with his brain and Stede reciprocated, felt a little lighter by the time Izzy pulled away.

“…that was very nice, dear.” Stede whispered, unsure of what to say.

“Stede,” Ed spoke, then, squeezed his side and didn’t continue until he met his eyes. “Nothing about that shit is silly, okay?” His hand cupped Stede’s cheek and he leant into the warmth. “It’s… it’s a lot, fuck man I’d be a mess if I dealt with that, so you’re already doing better than I could have.”

Stede shrugged, eyes dipped down. “It’s not really an appropriate reaction-”

“Hey,” Ed lightly pinched his cheek, startled him into looking back up. “It’s okay, you can’t help any of it, can you?”

Stede shook his head slowly, glancing at at Izzy before back at Ed. “Suppose not.”

“Right,” Ed nodded, stroked beneath his eye with his thumb, before he leaned in to kiss the spot gently. “It’s okay. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

For the first time that day Stede felt like he could finally breathe. He deflated a little, glanced between them again, murmured, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Apologise again and I’ll chuck this tea over you,” Izzy threatened, and Stede laughed a little, and it felt nice. “You have nothing to be sorry for, just… when it gets like this, you can tell us.”

“Right, yes, you can,” Ed chimed in. “Or if you feel like you can’t say it then you can, I dunno, write us a note. Stick it to the fridge or something, I’ll see it.”

Izzy turned to glare at Ed. “You never read anything on the fridge.”

“Yes I do, thank you very much.”

“What about the shopping list?”

“…handwriting was too small-”

“Or the bills? Or the letter from your mother-”

Funnily enough, it was listening to them bicker that made Stede’s eyes fill with tears again. He just- he had been so frustrated over it, and so overwhelmed by the bulk of his anxiety, and now that they had talked the relief was emotional. He felt loved and cared for, and even if he didn’t feel alright in the slightest, he knew there wasn’t a better place for him.

Their bickering was cut off when Stede threw his arms around both of their shoulders, pulling them all into a hug. It was at a bit of an awkward angle with Izzy on the coffee table, but all of them tucked their arms around one another and they all fit nicely into place.

“I love you both,” Stede choked out softly. “Very, very much. Thank you, loves.”

He felt kisses against his head as their arms tightened around him, and maybe for the first time in his life, Stede truly believed that he might, in the end of it all, be okay.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

comments would mean the world <3 requests are open!

#our flag means death #our flag means death fanfic #our flag means fanfic #ofmd #ofmd fanfic #blackbeard ofmd #ofmd stede #ofmd izzy #steddyhands #blackbeard x stede #edward teach #edward teach x stede bonnet #stede bonnet #stede bonnet x edward teach #stede bonnet x edward teach x izzy hands #stede bonnet x izzy hands #izzy hands #edward teach x izzy hands

[lupaeus]

♡ for her and andrei

soft ship meme .

send me a ♡ plus a ship and I'll tell you...

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙰𝚂𝙺𝙴𝙳 𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃? they really just kind of morphed into dating on their own after getting so close when he saved her , she's been pretty much glued to his side from the moment she was rescued

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚆𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝙸𝙽 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃 𝙺𝙸𝚂𝚂? emma woke up from a pretty brutal nightmare and andrei heard her screaming and came into the guest room to comfort her and she ended up kissing him ( and more lmao )

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙶𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙽𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴𝚂? they both have a few different usual pet names for each other , but sometimes emma will call him things like booger or noodle or just whatever stupid nickname sounding word comes to mind so she can see his little crooked confused smile

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙲𝙾𝙾𝙺𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙴𝙰𝙻𝚂? the chef LMAO but emma is learning bc she wants to be able to make andrei and their children their favorite foods ( unless they involve meatballs )

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙷𝙰𝚂 𝙱𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴 𝙸𝙽 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙲? i'm not exactly sure what his taste in music is but i know emma probably blasts music more lmao

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙷𝙾𝙶𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙴𝙳? just based on size alone i would say andrei , but they also generally sleep curled up together so it's not really too much of an issue

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚆𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂 𝚄𝙿 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃? they kind of wake up together most of the time , but sometimes emma wakes up just a tiny bit before him and ends up waking him up ( either normally or with head lmfao )

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙵𝙵𝙴𝙴? probably someone on the staff but again it's something emma learns to do just in case

𝚆𝙷𝙾'𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙸𝙶 𝚂𝙿𝙾𝙾𝙽? andrei but now i'm CACKLING picturing it the other way around

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝚄𝙿 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙴𝚂𝚃? i feel like it's probably andrei making sure she and the kids are all safe and asleep and / or finishing up work from the day

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚆𝙷𝙾'𝚂 𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙳? okay listen to me . at pretty much all times when she's around him emma is at least holding this man's hand . at home it's just because she loves him and always wants to be touching him , but in public it's a mixture of that and just a visceral fear of being taken again . she knows she could probably fight them off this time and that andrei would rain down on anyone who tried like actual hellfire but she can't help having a small pit in her stomach every time they're in a crowd because now she has so much more to lose

𝚆𝙷𝙾'𝚂 𝙰 𝙵𝙰𝙽 𝙾𝙵 𝙿𝙳𝙰? they both are lmfao they're almost always touching in some way and being in public doesn't change that

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚂𝙽𝙾𝚁𝙴𝚂? probably andrei lmfao

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙶𝙴𝚃𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙽𝙾𝚈𝙴𝙳 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙻𝚈? emma lol she's more impatient but her getting annoyed with HIM is extremely rare

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙸𝙽𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙰𝚃𝙴𝚂 𝚂𝙴𝚇? both literally anywhere at any time they're like rabbits ask their six kids 😭

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙰𝚂𝙺𝚂 𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙸𝚁 𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙸𝙽 𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝙰𝙶𝙴? andrei and it was one of the happiest moments of her entire life but it also causes an absolute breakdown bc she says yes of course but inside everything is screaming YOU DON'T DESERVE THIS :/

𝙼𝚈 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴'𝚂 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴 𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙾𝚁𝚈 𝙾𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂: other than being saved lol it's their wedding . she cried like a baby the whole night there was a big puffy dress and a beautiful venue and she got to marry the man of her dreams 🥹

𝙰 𝚁𝙴𝙶𝚁𝙴𝚃 𝙼𝚈 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴 𝙷𝙰𝚂 𝚁𝙴𝙶𝙰𝚁𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂: it's not even her fault , but she regrets HOW they met . she wouldn't change it because it brought him to her and gave her such a beautiful life , but the fact that his first impression of her was a broken , dirty shell of herself who she felt was tainted and unloveable is one of if not the only thing she doesn't like about their story

𝙸𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶: there is genuinely not anything she would change about him other than how he sees himself but after enough time she does kind of help him with that already lol

𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙸𝚁 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙶𝚄𝙰𝙶𝙴𝚂 𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙾𝚁𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙾 𝙼𝚈 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴: physical touch more than anything lol but also acts of service and quality time ( and words of affirmation at least when it comes to her )

#{ stop you were so right to call them poetic bc what the FUCK is this i'm crying ???? } #{ i love them more than life itself it's fine } #୧ ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ › razorfst › ⌗ emma and andrei . #୧ ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ the intersection got a target and they’re calling it downtown ⌗ headcanon . #୧ ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ stayed on the line with you the entire night ⌗ answered .

[vrnicky]

Hehehe @scrambledmeggys hope you enjoy this <3

Cap-tain dating headcanons!

He's all about kissing the back of your hand, greeting and goodbye kisses, always having a bouquet of flowers to give it to you either at home or at your job.

If you look the definition of gentleman, Captain appears there lol. He will open the door for you, hold your chair for you, give you his jacket when raining, all that stuff. He is 50% skeleton 50% gentleman.

Another reason why Captian is a gentleman is that his favorite date ideas are going to a really fancy restaurant! He always wants his dates to be elegant!

He's all about slow dancing while cooking! Of course he makes sure the food isn't burning or something lol. But he loves the type of touch slow dancing has, gently holding hands, his hand above your waist, that stuff.

He always likes to lend you his scarf, his gloves and even his jacket, when you're cold, it's raining or just to let you know he's there when you need him and to show you he trust you! He isn't very pleased at showing his hands, his fingers can cut you and he's afraid it would happen 🥺.

You get to try his cooking everyday! And at the three times of the day! Hell! Even dessert! And he doesn't repeat dishes! There's something about his food that it's just *chef kisses*.

His love language is acts of service and gift giving! That explains how he wants to help you in everything you do and always giving you a bouquet of flowers and/or chocolates! Or well, your favorite sweet <3.

He is a chaser! When he starts liking you, he is really serious and really committed to you! Wanting to learn even the small detail of you so he can surprise you with the perfect gift!

When he confess, he quickly ask you to start dating and that he won't mess it up. While having a nice meal to a restaurant, the bouquet of flowers and of course, he dressing up ✨fancy✨.

Clearly, CLEARLY, the old way lover. Believe me the bouquets is just the top. He will start writing you love letters, asking you to search for a song that remind him of you, that cheesy stuff <3.

These are all I can think of!! You're free to ask any questions about him 💖

#taco writes! #just a chillin' taco #undertale #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons #underfell #underfell papyrus #uf papyrus #cap!papyrus #captian!papyrus #my headcanons #dating headcanons!

[joyfulfxckery]

Menace anon here 😤😤

I had a random thought- what would the ghouls do if they found out their kinda chubby thicc friend, reader, secretly has a massive sweet tooth but they're embarrassed/insecure abt it due to past bullying, and plot twist,the ghouls have bih ol crushes on reader bc I am an attention whore and SO down bad for Rain, and Swiss :'))

Thank you!!

Oki so, I'm only gonna put Swiss and Rain here for right now, then do a like a part 2 with the others later. Hope that's oki 😅

Swiss

You've been friends for a while so he knows that when he has candy, where his number one stop is.

He's noticed how your eyes light up when you receive candy but don't eat it, instead, you slide it into your pocket with a "Thank you" and "I'll enjoy it later."

He always tells you it's okay to eat in front of him.

Always compliments your figure, it's one of the many things he loves *cough* likes about you.

Always says about how your thighs and tummy would be perfect pillows for him.

Seriously.

He wants to lay between your legs, with his head on your tummy and his arms wrapped tightly around your hips.

Like how he holds his pillow at night while thinking it's you.

When you can eat the candy in front of him he always does something silly to take your mind off of the uncomfortable feeling.

Taking his vape out of his pocket, he'll show you the cool things he can do, practising the things he wants to do so that if he fails you can laugh.

Dance moves.

He continues doing this for the rest of the week before...

You're all dressed, ready to face the day ahead of you, the door gently hits something while it gets opened making you look down and see it's a small see-through container that's shaped like a half heart.

Bending down to pick it up with a smile you see it's filled with your favourite candy, when you come back up you come to face with Swiss and his huge-a$$ smile who, without saying anything, takes your container and puts it with another half a heart container. Making a whole heart.

"I like you Y/N, like a lot, and if you'd let me I would like to get you all the candy you want in return for all your time, laughs, kisses and" his smile turns into a smirk, "sexy times."

Rain

He thinks your body is

*chefs kiss*

So sexy

Very beautiful

I feel he'd react more towards the mental aspect like he would want to help you get over the insecurity and get you to enjoy eating your favourites again.

He would watch from afar watching your reactions when you get the sweets, he sees the excitement but also the hesitation.

He can tell you want them but you want to eat them in a place you'd feel comfortable.

So he comes up with a plan.

He starts leaving sweets in places only you could find them; if you have chores he'll look up the area you're supposed to be in and leave them on a shelf your height, under something you have to dust, the supply closet where you get the cleaning supplies or the spot you usually hangout, your favourite spot in the library that Copia keeps available for you and even right in front of your dorm room.

The way your face lights up is well worth any trouble he could've possibly gone through.

He eventually tells you that all the candy you've been finding everywhere in the abbey is from him.

After that, he starts giving them to you in person and if you're still hesitant to eat them in front of him he'll leave but if you'd allow him, he'd prefer to stay.

After sitting with him for a while, talking and laughing, you tell him that you have to go and start your job for the day. He'll nod and say that he'll see you later.

It's just before curfew when you get to your dorm, seeing Rain standing in front of the door you ask him if he was waiting for you to which he nods and replies, "I told you I would see you later."

He stands enough from the door that you can slip in front of him to open the door and when you turn back to see that he's holding a single stem of your favourite flower with a Hershey's Kiss in the center.

"When I was hiding all of those sweets, I thought I could just build a friendship with you but watching you smile when you found one made my heart swell and when you were laughing this afternoon, my heart was soaring. So," he says as he holds out the flower to you, "I'm hoping you'd let me be the reason behind all of your laughs."

How would you guys respond to their confessions? 🤔

I hope that makes sense and is cute lol

~Ghoulie💜

#anon response #thanks anon! #ghost bc #the band ghost #ghost band #swiss ghoul #rain ghoul #nameless ghouls #plus size reader #imagine #headcannons #requests are open