#i wanted dat good angst

[tzuberry]

zerobaseone maknae line as tropes / cliches ૮ • ﻌ - ა

pairing shen quanrui (ricky), kim gyuvin, park gunwook, han yujin + gn reader⠀⠀⠀details fluff, slight angst in ricky’s and gunwook’s, bulletpoint and written

cw getting stood up, mention of lipstick use in ricky’s ⠀⠀⠀wc 738 696 604 802 respectively (2840 in total)⠀⠀⠀reading time 22 min

note title kinda misleading TBH... havent written on tumblr in a while, so this is a new account and my first post! im hoping this doesnt flop :( i loved writing this so much, so if it flops i might just repost it ... idk.. likes and reblogs are appreciated !!! (only if u want to ofc 🤞🏻)

masterlist navigation

ricky 리키

blind date... but you got stood up, and ricky is your best friend

it’s not that you really wanted to go on a date, it’s that your friend assured you this was the perfect guy for you

and your friend swore, cross their heart, that you would not regret letting them set you up

but now you’re sitting at a table alone, with pitiful looks being thrown your way by the restaurant staff and the other groups of people around you and it’s clear to you; you do regret it, and this is the last time you’ll let anyone other than yourself handle your love life

after compulsorily buying a meal for yourself so as to not leave the place empty handed, you slowly chew on your food, wondering where it went wrong

did he see a picture of you and decided that was it? did he hear a story about you that was just unflattering? what was it about you that made them turn around and away from the restaurant—away from you?

in the midst of all this, your phone emits a ding! sound. you’re not doing anything important, so you see it fit to check the notification

ricky 😡🐱: how’s your date going?

terribly. but that’s a little embarrassing to admit, especially to ricky...

yn: good! i’ll text you later

you lay your phone down on the table and pick up your utensils once again to finish your meal, but a shadow casting over your plate interrupts you

“why are you alone, then?”

When you follow the voice (and the shadow), Ricky is standing next to your table, his phone in hand with the screen open on your text thread. He turns it off with a swift click of the power button, and he takes the space on the other side of the table where your date should have been.

You don’t know how to respond. You’re embarrassed; a second ago, you were alone at a restaurant filled with people, and now, your best friend has caught you lying to him about being at said restaurant alone.

“What happened?” Ricky asks as his arm makes its way across the table to your glass of water. He lifts it to his lips, taking a sip and placing it back down. He looks genuinely concerned, maybe even a little pissed, but all you can focus on is how your lipstick stain is on the rim of the cup, and how he drank from that same spot.

You shake your head. “I, um,” you pause, pursing your lips and trying to find a good enough (fake) reason. “Nothing. I didn’t like him, and he said he had other plans, so I just let him go.”

Ricky furrows his eyebrows at that. It’s a very visible sign of incredulity; he doesn’t believe your lie. Nevertheless, he simply shrugs it off. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Thanks, I guess,” you reply, still dealing with the aftereffects of being stood up. You poke your fork at the food before you; a lost appetite and an expensive meal don’t mix well.

Ricky leans forward, letting his forearms rest on the surface of the table. He’s looking at you so seriously, analyzing your every move. “Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, attempting to come off as teasing, but he only waves you off. “I just want to look at you.”

You feel yourself practically melt under his gaze, but you ignore it. This is Ricky, your best friend... nothing more. Right. This is Ricky—you should tell him the truth about why you’re alone.

“He didn’t come,” you admit. “I wasn’t super excited about this date, but I thought– I thought I would at least go on a date. This is... nothing. I was here by myself before you got here.”

There’s a pained glint in his eyes. Is he feeling sorry for you? Maybe you do deserve all the pity you’ve gotten today. He gulps, keeping eye contact with you while biting on a small portion of his bottom lip.

After a while, he sighs. “Come on.”

Ricky begins to stand up, stuffing his phone into his pocket before you hold him back by the wrist. “What?” you question.

“We’ll go do something else,” he says with a bob of his head. Your grasp on his wrist somehow turns into your hands being interlocked. “Let me take you on a date. I’ve always wanted to, and I promise I won’t screw it up.”

gyuvin 규빈

boy next door who you’ve always had feelings for, you just never thought of him liking you back

you’ve always liked kim gyuvin

from the moment his family moved in next to your house, with his bedroom parallel to yours

you could see everything through his window; who he was, what his hobbies were, what he admired, and how he acted with his friends

this all made him seem... unattainable. you felt like you were the audience for a show, and gyuvin was the actor

it didn’t help that you went to the same school, and to further that, he was immensely popular

it was obvious. how could you expect that someone like him wouldn’t be? he’s tall, cute, extroverted, funny and kind—the entire package, if you would say so yourself

you weren’t totally unpopular. you had your fair share of friends, a few social circles that you hung out with. but gyuvin seemed too out of reach for you, even if he was your neighbor

the singular interaction you’ve had was when he came over to ask for sugar. it went like this: “hi!” “hi?” “i was baking, and i kind of ran out of brown sugar. do you maybe... uh...” “oh, sugar? wait, i think i do, hold on.”

it was that awkward. so when your mother told you she became new friends with gyuvin’s mom and wanted to have dinner at their house as a family, you freaked

but it’s not like you can say no, so you found yourself at the kims’ door a few days later

“Hi! You must be [Name]. I’ve seen you around, and I’ve heard about you from Gyuvin, but you’re much prettier up close! I know who you get your looks from,” Mrs Kim says, winking at your mother.

“You’re too kind, your son is very polite, and...”

You tune their conversation out—did she say she’s heard about you from Gyuvin? Why would he be talking about you?

Your mom finishes it (whatever she was talking about) off with, “They’d be perfect together, don’t you think?” Mrs Kim nods vigorously, then pats you twice on the shoulder. “[Name], maybe you would want to go spend some time with Gyuvin first? I’m afraid dinner isn’t ready, there’s still a long way... I’ll call you both down when it is. He’s up in his room.”

You bow, excusing yourself and obligingly treading up the stairs. This is the second time you’re about to interact with him—you better not mess up.

On the final step of the staircase, you start to hear talking from one of the bedrooms. From where you stand, it’s not clear where its origin is, and so you try to listen for the voice. It leads you to a slightly open door, and holy shit—this is Gyuvin’s door.

“They’re coming over today, and, ugh, I don’t know,” he rants. Is that about you? It has to be. Who else is coming over? You move closer to the door frame, nearly peeking your head in. “I just– I don’t know how to talk to them! Last time, I went over to ask if they wanted to hang out and...” he trails off, the regret evident in his tone. “I asked for sugar. To bake.” Oh my god. This is about you.

You take another step, risking the possibility of the door creaking. “I don’t even bake! I came home with sugar and my mom asked why and I just said I found some on the street.” He sighs, exasperated. You inch even closer, toying with the chances of him catching you eavesdropping, when... creak. At the same time, Gyuvin’s rant is cut short. “Gunwook, you have to help me, I can’t be an idiot in front of them–”

His head snaps towards the door, where you are, standing and staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. He quickly hangs up, bidding Gunwook a hushed goodbye through the microphone. “How much of that did you hear?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, flattered and shy at the same time. “I think... all of it.”

Gyuvin’s hand raises to cup his nape, and he gives you the most endearing yet bashful smile. “Would you, maybe, um, wanna hang out sometime? With me, of course...”

gunwook 건욱

friends to lovers, and everyone is sure you both like each other but all you do is deny it

you know gunwook like the back of your hand

although you met a little over a year ago, he quickly became a constant in your life, especially because you saw him everyday at school

he would wait outside your class, eat lunch with you, walk you home (and sometimes to school in the mornings), help you with homework even though he’s always busy with all the extracurriculars he participates in, and additionally schedules weekly study sessions together

this led countless people to think you were dating, even though you’re really not

you deny it, making a gesture with your hands indicating the negative. “we’re just friends, he would never be my boyfriend,” you laugh it off. gunwook tenses up, and the corners of his lips suddenly become downturned. “yeah, we’re just friends...” he agrees, sounding somewhat unsure

that’s what happens every single time someone mistakes you for a couple. you’re the first to refuse that assumption, while gunwook just follows your lead

you thought, “hey, maybe he’s just shy around the topic of dating.” and so you don’t push it, or even ask about what he thinks of the rumors surrounding you two

at this week’s study session, which he scheduled at his house, he can’t focus

repeatedly tapping his pen and running his fingers through his hair—doing anything but his homework, really—he doesn’t even spare you a glance

and so you take the responsibility upon yourself to ask. “is something bothering you?”

Gunwook sighs, looking as if he’s internally debating the pros and cons of unloading his baggage onto you. His eyes dart around his room, from the door, to the desk, to the bed, and finally to you, before he swipes his tongue between his lips and lets out a breath. “Can I ask you something?”

You drop your pen. Why does he seem so conflicted?

Readjusting your position on the bed to face him, you lean closer to Gunwook as you shove your school books and other materials out of the way. “You can ask me anything,” you say, determined to comfort your friend.

He visibly hesitates, biting his bottom lip. He’s still not looking at you, and not so much as a second is allotted for one glimpse. “Do you...” he pauses, trying to muster the courage. “Do you really think of me as just a friend?”

The question almost makes your jaw drop to the floor. What does he mean by that? Sure, you did have a short-lived crush on him when you first got acquainted, but it faded instantaneously. You didn’t know you could be anything more—you thought you had no chance with a guy like him, so your feelings were trivial to you.

Tilting your head, you reply, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Gunwook shrugs, also following your actions and pushing all his textbooks away. “I guess– oh my god, this sounds stupid, but,” he groans, “I’ve liked you since last year, since before we even became friends. And whenever someone asks if I’m your boyfriend, you just– you immediately say no.”

He... likes you? You’re dumbfounded, eyes wide and mouth actually agape this time. You’re certain your cheeks are red, judging from the heat you feel rush up to your face.

At your silence, he continues. “I know it’s stupid. I didn’t just become friends with you because I like you, it’s more than that, but everytime you say I could never be your boyfriend or something like that, I hate it.

“I’ve liked you for so long, and please answer me,” he sounds breathless as he speaks, “Can I... can we be anything more?”

yujin 유진

first love / teenage crush

you didn’t know when you started liking yujin, you just did

maybe it was when you would watch him play soccer after school, with him alone on the field practicing and you doing your homework on the bleachers

or maybe it was when he bought you a drink that one time. you were thirsty after running to school because you were on the verge of getting an offense on your permanent record if you were late one more time

clicking a few buttons on the vending machine, the solace provided by strawberry milk was nearly yours—until you open your wallet to find that there’s only a thousand won inside

“maybe next time,” you think, “i don’t need to drink anything right now.”

but before you can leave, someone sneaks their two thousand into the slot for you, and the milk drops down into the small metal box below for you to claim

when you turn around, you’re met with yujin

and then a switch flipped. since then, you’ve noticed han yujin wherever you went

you stumbled onto the soccer field on a hot day when you were assigned cleaning duty, and you found that he was the only one there

deciding to repay the favor, after spectating him practicing for a while, you go to buy a drink for him too when you buy your own

you leave it next to his bag with a note, saying: “you’re really good! i bought this for you, make sure to get some rest ♡”

and so watching him practice while doing your homework became a regular occurrence for you, even if you weren’t 100% watching all the time. it was like background music, and your interest in him (caused by him buying you milk) became a full blown crush

Following the steps of your daily routine, you hurriedly arrange your books in your backpack, ready to go see Yujin—the best part of your day—when your teacher stops you at the door.

“[Name], I’d like to talk to you about tutoring someone,” she says, a soft smile plastered on her face as if she wasn’t actively ruining your day. “You’re one of my best students, and a classmate of yours really needs help.”

As hard as you tried to get away, you got stuck in the classroom for the rest of the afternoon, discussing possible tutoring times and the topic outlines where your “classmate” needed further explanation. Not only were you annoyed you missed some time to see Yujin, but when you got to the field, hoping he would still be practicing late into the night, he was gone.

Although you were displeased at the thought of having to tutor your male classmate every day of the school week, you had no choice. In addition, he was at least paying you, so it wasn’t like your hard work was for nothing—just that now, you would have to sacrifice your time with the boy you like.

You started to tutor him after school, and going to see Yujin became a rare possibility. Your tutoring was yielding good results, however, and your tutee received high marks on almost all tests after being taken under your wing.

He runs up to you, showing you his paper with a big red ninety-eight in the corner; he got an even higher grade than you did. “[Name]! Thank you, look at this! I’ve never gotten a grade this high!” You nod, but everything he’s saying is going in one ear and out the other. Since he technically doesn’t need your help anymore, maybe you could go watch Yujin today.

You cancel your session for the day, with permission from your advising teacher. After two and a half weeks, you’re finally back at the field—but this time, he’s the one who isn’t here. You let out a deep breath, deciding to power through and do your homework like normal.

You’re in the middle of trigonometry when a cool sensation is pressed up against your cheek, water beginning to drip down your skin. Flicking your head towards the perpetrator, you discover it to be Yujin holding a strawberry milk for you. He giggles, handing you the small box and sitting down beside you. “Here. I haven’t, um, seen you in a while. Why’s that?”

You take it from him, detaching the straw from the back of the box and poking it through the designated hole. “Yeah,” you say, sipping on the milk for a few seconds after. “I started to tutor Jiwon, so I couldn’t come the last few weeks.”

“Oh, you must be busy, then. Nevermind,” he mutters, shaking his head. “No, what is it? You can’t just say nevermind.” You scoff, a teasing grin making its way onto your face.

Yujin gulps. “Will you, uh... come to my game this weekend?”

#zb1 imagines #zb1 reactions #zb1 scenarios #zb1 oneshots #zb1 #zerobaseone #zb1 yujin #zb1 gunwook #zb1 gyuvin #zb1 ricky #zerobaseone imagines #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 fics #zerobaseone oneshots #zerobaseone fics #zb1 drabbles #zerobaseone drabbles #zerobaseone scenarios #han yujin #park gunwook #shen ricky #kim gyuvin #han yujin imagines #ricky imagines #gyuvin imagines #gunwook imagines

[spamgyu]

BACKBURNER // PART 4

DESCRIPTION: She had grown tired of being on his back burner, the person that he had kept warm until he gotten the girl he has had his eyes set on for years... And with a little help from her friend, maybe... just maybe she'll finally be the first choice. PAIRING: Seungcheol x Reader | Mingyu x Reader GENRE: Angst & Fluff PART 3 | SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

When he had told Jeonghan that his roommate had convinced him to go over to his best friend's house to finally tell her how he felt, he wasn't lying.

It wasn't just for show – to tell a fake story to make their lies believable.

"Seungcheol fumbled, are you going to do the same thing?" Minghao asked him, keeping his eyes trained on the screen while they worked together to complete their game's mission.

For the past few months, they had almost always circled back to one topic.

Y/n.

It was almost as if a switch had turned on in his head the day he realized that she was the one he loved this whole time. Just as has his mother predicted since their high school days, Mingyu had fallen in love for the one constant that was in his life.

"It's complicated, Hao. Shoot shoot– fuck." Mingyu cried, chucking his controller to the side as the screen flashed "MISSION FAILED".

Minghao shrugged. "How complicated could it be?"

"Well for one, it's one sided." He listed. "And then what, I lose her? Rather not have that."

"Just give it a shot. I doubt she'll cut you out anyways. She's stuck around this long, hasn't she?"

He was right.

She had seen the good, the bad, and the ugly and yet, she was still here. She still stuck by his side through it all.

He brought his fingers up to his lips, biting his nails – a bad habit he had developed whenever he allowed his thoughts to consume him.

The worst that could happen was that she could reject him, which he was 99% sure she would.

He just needed to get this damn weight off his shoulder.

Now more than ever.

Sighing, Mingyu stood from his seat. "Alright, I'm going to do it."

He had all the intentions of doing so that Valentine's Day. Showing up to her doorstep with a small bouquet of tulips he had picked up at Trader Joe's along with her favorite sweet treat from their bakery section – the brownie cookie combo that he swore was far too sweet for anyone's taste buds.

But instead, he was greeted by a girl with red eyes – it was clear that she had been crying just minutes before his arrival.

"Are those for me?" She sniffled, pointing to the contents in his hand.

"Yeah, I figured you were going to be upset this Valentine's day." He chuckled, lying through his teeth.

It wasn't the right time.

Mingyu wanted to tell her how he felt.

He wanted to finally feel the weight come off his chest but he knew it wasn't right.

Not when he still plagued her mind.

"Thank you." Y/n smiled, using the sleeves of her sweater to wipe her eyes. "No plans today?"

Mingyu shook his head, plopping down on her couch. "Today is for couples."

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

"Fake dating?" Minghao repeated what his friend had just debriefed him after his arrival. "At your big age, you're going to pretend to fake dat– You know you've had many bad ideas before but this one takes the fucking cake."

Mingyu groaned, putting his head in his hands. "I know okay? I know, I just– She– I don't know. You know I'd do anything for her."

"Including helping her get Cheol back?" He cried.

"I just want her happy."

Minghao sarcastically clapped. "Let's give it up for the stupidest boy alive."

"Leave me alone." He pushed his friend's hands away from his face.

"This is going to be so fucking messy." He shook his head as he headed for his room, leaving his friend in the living room to wallow in his own thoughts.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

After three days of non-stop activities, she was ready to tap out – groaning in her bed as she flipped laying on one side to the other. She had mistakenly agreed to go hiking with Seokmin, Seungkwan and Hansol the day before and as someone who rarely did any physical activities, she was regretting her decision – feeling her thighs ache under the covers.

"Let's do something." Mingyu suggested from his bed, growing bored of the show he had been watching on the television.

Everyone else had left the hotel early in the morning to go ziplining, and considering her current state and his fear of heights, the duo had opted to sit this one activity out.

Getting the rest they deserve.

"I'm tired." She whined.

"Come on, I wanna go back up north and look around the shops." He pouted dramatically, batting his lashes at her.

They had all been so busy trying to complete the itinerary Eunji had so kindly organized that day that they weren't able to fully enjoy all the small town had to offer – Mingyu making note to pay it another visit during his free time.

Which was now.

She never could resist him.

Letting out a sigh, she sat up in her bed – trudging over to her suitcase. "You better fucking buy me something."

"I'm your boyfriend not your sugar daddy."

Grabbing the nearest article of clothing, Y/n turned around and threw it at him – hitting his face.

"I'm the luckiest man alive." He chuckled, tossing it back at her – making it perfectly into her suitcase.

"You sure are, baby." She winked, heading straight to the bathroom – outfit in hand.

"I thought we won't use baby!" He called out as the door slammed shut – a wide grin on his face.

He didn't care if it was in pure sarcasm. Mingyu felt his heart skip a beat.

Just as it had been the past few days.

Oh he was down bad.

Within an hour, they were back on the same road, blasting the same playlist – the two taking turns singing obnoxiously along to her favorite songs.

"I like it here." She reached over to dial the volume down, turning to point her film camera at him. "Smile– oh my god don't pose– ew!"

After a year of nothing but pure heartache, riding the roller coaster of emotions that Seungcheol had managed to strap her into, this was the first time in a while that the girl had enjoyed her time.

She couldn't help but dread the thought of the trip wrapping up, having to face the music of her reality – going back in to work, coming home to an empty apartment... and be alone with her thoughts.

With no Mingyu to distract her.

In the past few days, she had gained a new appreciation for her friend – noticing the small details of his actions. Especially after voicing this to Seungcheol on the beach, in attempts to defend their lie.

And even more when Mingyu had confirmed this two days ago.

At the time, she was simply saying what was at the top of her head. She had always known that he was there for her, answering all her calls in an instant and showing up with no questions asked.

Even if it was to help her get a bird, that had accidentally flown in and wreaked havoc, out if her apartment.

She remembered how stressed and terrified he was of hurting the poor thing as he used a broom to usher the small creature out – recording the whole thing on her phone for future entertainment purposes.

"Thank you." She glanced over at him, a soft smile on her lips.

"For what?" Mingyu's brows furrowed, confused at the sudden change of tone and air between them.

"Just being a good person." Y/n shrugged.

"Are you going all soft on me, y/n?" He teased.

"Don't make me take it back."

"I'm kidding." He chuckled, reaching over to give her cheek a poke. "I should be thanking you. You bullied me into being a good person."

Aside from his parents and his sister, she had a big influence on who he was and the man he had become today.

Y/n had never once let any of his mistakes go by without a single lecture. He remembered all the times he would sit in silence while she talked his ear off, even if it was something minor as forgetting to clean the lint trap out of his dryer.

Something about starting a house fire.

Before, when he was in his teens and still unappreciative of her nagging, Mingyu would simply roll his eyes – letting her words go in one ear and out another. As time had gone by, he had learned to appreciate it.

Welcoming it even; beating her to the punch to text her of his mistakes and asking for advice on how he could make it right.

"Not enough though. How many girls have cried because of you?"

"Don't make me take it back." He jokingly threatened, using her line.

Laughing, she allowed for the views to distract her once again – snapping a few more pictures.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

"We should come back here. Make it a tradition." She said, as the treaded through the small tide pools, pointing out the small school of fish that swam along their legs every now and then.

"Holding you to that."

The two had many traditions that they had set in place, one of them being spending a week during their summers camping with both of their families. A tradition that began when he had tagged along during one of her family trips – it wasn't long until his family joined in the following year, their fathers instantly becoming friends during the first day.

This would merely be another trip that they would continue on until they were old and grey.

"Do you think our kids will be friends? Like us?" Y/n asked aloud, stopping him in his tracks.

"I haven't really thought that far."

A lie.

He has.

Though, he would much prefer if their kids were siblings rather than friends.

They say a man knows in an instant whether they want to marry a girl or not.

Mingyu was no different.

He remembered that day so clearly. She had dragged him along to the mall to help her find the perfect dress for Jeonghan's wedding, and with nothing better to do he had agreed.

She had stepped out of the dressing room in a one shoulder satin maxi dress, fitting perfectly on her body. It was a simple dress, no ruffles, no sequins, no lace. Just a plain satin dress; but somehow she made it look like it was worth far more than the tag attached at the seams.

Mingyu remembered his heart skipping a beat that day, the breath in his lungs didn't seem enough as he took in her beauty.

He didn't know what triggered it, maybe it was the constant talks of the wedding, but his brain was instantly flooded with the thought of being the one at the end of the aisle – waiting for her as she made her way down in a white dress.

This soon then spiraled to thoughts of a married life with her; spending the rest of his life with his best friend.

It took him nearly a week to snap out of this day dream, his mind constantly wandering back to that day and the whirlwind of emotions that hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Have you at least thought about what you want for dinner?" She laughed; bringing him back to reality.

"Poke probably." Mingyu muttered.

"Sh.. the fish can hear you." She feigned shock as another school of silver fish swam by her toes.

"Yummy yummy fish." He cooed.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

Sitting atop of the roof of the car, the two picked at the various small bowls for cubed fresh cut of the day that they had picked up from the local market – humming in content each time they took a bite.

Instead of meeting the rest of the group for dinner, Mingyu and Y/n agreed it would be best to simply pick up the poke he had originally suggested as opposed to racing back to the city.

Watching the sunset while parked by the sand was far better than the chaos, anyways. The two needing a break from all the voices that seemed to always talk over one another.

"Hold still," He picked up his phone and pointed it at her. "This would look good on my story."

While they sat in silence, digesting the dinner they had just finished not too long ago, Mingyu couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked under the soft orange and yellow hues of the sun that had dipped halfway into the horizon – illuminating her face in a new light.

Both metaphorically and literally.

Without a second thought, the girl listened to him – holding her pose of looking straight into the shoreline, a soft smile on her face. "Lemme see." She held her hand out as he handed her his device. "Send this to me."

Mingyu swallowed as his heart battled with his brain to do the unthinkable.

Maybe it was the fact that they had spent the whole day alone, acting as though they were still around their friends – pretending.

Or the fact that this his trip had given him a glimpse of what his life would be if they were actually together, the flirting, the hand holding, the soft whispers, waking up to her in the morning; the sweet moments he yearned for.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was because he's been wanting this for so long – unable to hold off any longer.

"Bug?" Her head tilted to the side, seeing the gears turn behind his eyes.

There goes that nickname.

The one that they have sworn to use just as part of the act that soon became a part of their daily vocabulary. Even when it was just the two of them.

"Let me just–" His mumbled, leaning down – which wasn't hard as they were already only inches apart, capturing her lips in his.

She didn't pause.

She didn't push him away.

In fact, she kissed him back.

Bringing a hand to cup her face, Mingyu moved his lips against hers slowly. He had been dreaming of this for a while now, and he could have sworn he thought their first kiss would be much rougher – thinking he would be hungry for her lips.

But this moment was delicate. He knew that it could all come crashing down the minute he pulled away, so he proceeded it with caution – his thumb caressing her cheek as his tongue swiped her bottom lip for permission.

She allowed it.

Mingyu's head was spinning at this point, wanting nothing else but to stay in this moment forever.

But he knew he couldn't.

They needed air.

Pulling away, Mingyu swallowed; preparing himself to receive an earful from her.

Instead she sat in silence, blinking at him.

He had fucked up.

"I'm sorry." He croaked.

Mingyu knew that if he wasn't the first one to speak up, she would let the tension swallow them whole – leaving them to drive back to the hotel without uttering a single word to each other.

"I think we should head back." She cleared her throat, scooting towards the moon roof they had slipped through.

"Hey–" He placed a hand on her shoulder.

She turned her head, lips pale. It was clear that she had regretted what had happened, a lump forming in Mingyu's throat as the worst had finally come.

"What?" Y/n asked softly.

"Just wanted to see if you were foaming at the mouth." Mingyu joked. "Since I have rabies and all..."

A small smile formed on her face, a wave of relief washing over him. "You're so fucking stupid." Y/n ducked into the car.

"No rabies?" Mingyu called out.

"Get in the damn car, Mingyu." She called back.

They were going to be alright.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

For the first time in a while, she was confused.

She should have listened to the voice in her head when it had warned her that pretending to date her best friend was a bad idea.

At her ripe age of twenty six, she should have known this would happen.

Maybe it was the close proximity, or the fact that they had spent the whole day absentmindedly pretending to be a couple despite none of their usual audience being around, or maybe it was that he kissed her.

No.

They made out.

Either way, her mind was in a mess.

It wasn't like she's never had feelings for him before.

But the last time didn't count.

They were in high school — and everyone had a crush on him.

It was tiny crush that she had soon gotten over when she met her first boyfriend.

But this time was different.

There was more on the line.

Their friendship, their whole group's dynamic.... and Seungcheol.

The man who had been the main reason why she was in this predicament in the first place.

A part of her wanted to dismiss the moment atop of their car as a moment of weakness, the sunset and island hypnotizing the both of them.

Besides, it was Mingyu. He had plenty of girls in line, waiting to get a chance with him.

He must have simply been caught up in the moment.

If it was anything genuine, he would have acted differently instead of jumping back into the sense of normality as they drove back to the hotel.

But no, he made a joke out of it all.

It was a mistake to both of them.

But another part of her wanted it to be real – falling into the trap of their own acting.

While he had excused himself to the hotel gym, to work out with Joshua and Soonyoung, y/n was left with her thoughts – wanting nothing more but to silence it all.

She didn't want Mingyu, even if his actions was everything she wished for in a man.

It was– It had to be Seungcheol.

A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts.

It was as if the universe read her mind, opening the door to see him standing with a plushie in hand – nervously shifting his weight from one foot to another.

"Hi." He greeted softly, holding the t-rex stuffed toy out. "I uh– it reminded me of you."

If her mind wasn't a mess before, it sure was in pure chaos now.

It reminded him of her.

She recalled back to the one good week they had. No fighting, no tears, no mixed signals.

She had come down with a nasty cold and he had doted on her while she was bed ridden – staying over at her apartment to nurse her back to health.

They had spent that whole week binge watching all the installments of Jurassic Park, cuddling on her bed despite her protests of not wanting to pass whatever virus she had come down to him.

He didn't care for it, showering her with kisses.

"Thank you." Y/n accepted the plush.

She picked up on his nervousness, stepping aside to let him in. "Is everything okay?"

He nodded, bringing his hand to scratch the back of his neck – trying to find the right words to say. "I– I want to say sorry. For all of it. The pain, the confusion..... I– I'm sorry for being a dick."

"It's fi–"

"It's not." Seungcheol shook his head. "I had some senses knocked in me and–"

Y/n watched as he licked his lips, pacing in front of her before he came to a stop.

"It's you." He breathed. "I– I choose you."

Her world came into a halt.

The metaphorical glass shattering.

"What?"

"That night, when you asked me to choose, I– I shouldn't have hesitated. I should have stopped you. I'm sorry." He continued, pain evident in his eyes.

He was being genuine.

Y/n tried to search for any signs of lies on his face, unable to comprehend the words that left his lips.

This was the moment she had finally been waiting for, but why was she so afraid?

"I know an apology can't fix it. But if you'll allow it–" Seungcheol hesitantly took her hand in his, giving it a squeeze. "If you'll take me back, I'll spend however long trying to prove that it's you."

taglist closed

@thepoopdokyeomtouched/ @scuzmunkie / @yunjin0 / @morkswatermelonnnn / @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan / @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken / @naturelvrgfstealer / @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter / @musingsofananxiouspotato / @f4iryjjosh / @gatorgirl007 / @girlwithimaginarybiaslist / @daisawa / @ttragiquee / @luchiet / @loveforred /@vannabanana1995 / @uniq-tastic / @porridgesblog / @haolistic / @bbl32 / @calumsfringe / @alsktudy / @chansbaybygirl / @alwaysalmostthere / @listxn / @soupbinlily / @hanniebaby95 / @yonabutnotyuna / @buffhoshi / @kawennote09 / @wwwellacom / @hanniebaby95 / @winterbeartaehyungbestboy

#ha ha. ha.... dont beat me up omg #i uh..... i can explain #mingyu fic #mingyu x oc #seventeen fic #seventeen #mingyu angst #kim mingyu #mingyu x reader #seventeen imagines #mingyu #kmg fic #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fluff #seventeen seungcheol #choi seungcheol #seventeen scenarios #seungcheol x oc #seungcheol angst #seungcheol fic #svt fic #scoups x reader #scoups fic #spamgyu backburner #going to hide in my inbox now bye

[lisired]

keep on

pairing: johnny x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, angst, non-idol au, fwb!johnny, alcohol consumption, mentions of addiction/alcoholicism, daddy issues, mommy issues, unprotexted sex (dont b silly wrap ur willy!)

summary: All things love and commitment are feared upon by you. You keep a tight crew and let few people in, cynical of other’s intentions and leaving a trail of broken hearts in your wake. If you break other people’s hearts first, they can’t break yours. And yet, it was all too easy falling for Johnny, digging yourself into a depthless hole of love. But he is no exception to your heartache games.

word count: 13.6k

a/n: this was a pretty quick write. inspired by keep on by kehlani, garden (say it like dat) by sza and off the table by ariana grande featuring the weeknd. have fun reading <3 feedback is appreciated!

Through the blurry lenses of your eyes, love was a synonym for heartbreak.

It happened everyday. People gave people their all and in return, they received nothing but brutal agony. You had seen it happen and experienced the heartache firsthand.

Like when your father left your mother. And thus, the baby they had brought into this world together. It stung like nothing else to watch what became of your mother, drowning her sorrows in liquor. She was never the same.

Perhaps she had passed her bad habits down to you. The apple never falls far from the tree, they say.

Irene’s house was your deemed safe haven for the night. It was Friday and you were having a girl’s night out, but given the gruesome work week everyone had, no one wanted to truly go out.

You strutted inside and collapsed against her island, dropping your purse on the surface. “Get me drunk,” you sighed, tired beyond imagination. Not to mention the text message creeping in your mind.

Yeri giggled and slid you a glass. She had already been drinking, you could tell. She got all bubbly when tipsy. She reached for a bottle, and said, “Irene’s getting the good shit. She’ll be right back.”

They got the bottles and poured the glasses. When they were empty, you didn’t hesitate to fill them up again. There was no doubt that the next morning would bring you a terrible hangover, though you wanted to drink like there was no tomorrow.

You wanted to forget everything. Forget men. Forget the way that they all hurt you. Fuck that, you didn’t even want to remember what hurt was or meant.

They were nothing but trouble.

As the hours ticked by, less and less of your sullenness was masked by your inebriety. It became evident that there was something plaguing your mind. You sat slumped on the couch, bitter.

Irene sat beside you when the coast was clear. The girls had either passed out or gone back home if they were sober enough. But you were seated on her sofa, reeking of depression.

“We can always talk about it, you know,” Irene said softly. She grabbed your hand and let you rest your head on her lap. “It might make you feel better to open up.”

You shook your head and quipped dryly, “And ruin your perfect girl’s night? I thought the point was to de-stress.”

Irene gave you a faint smile and patted your head gently. She was one of the few people who knew the extent of trauma you dealt with. Your every secret was kept under lock and key but she protected them with her whole heart. Irene cared for you, that was undeniable. All things considered, she was like a mother to you. But you depended on no one but yourself and you hated seeming weak. Even if you were.

Besides, there was a time and a place, and this was neither. Ranting about your daddy issues wasn’t the point of tonight. It was to clear your head. Nothing good came out of recalling the irreversible damage your father had inflicted upon your broken family.

I’m sorry. Let me make things right, the text you received read. It made you feel a fusion of emotion - anger, sadness, confusion, disgust. What he did, upping and leaving, was unforgivable. It was a sin.

He broke your family. There was nothing he could do or say to make things right, to mend the shattered pieces. If he wanted to leave then he should have stayed gone. He had no right to try to come and intrude years later. He didn’t get to pick and choose when he could be in your life.

Irene was firm when she told you, “I’m here for you whenever you need me. I know you like to think that you don’t need anyone, that opening up makes you vulnerable, but being vulnerable is okay. I’m not going to attack you for being human and having the feelings you push away.”

Right in the heart - that was where her words always hit you. Irene had a habit of always being right, even if the truth hurt. Even if you desperately wanted her to be wrong. And yet, she never was.

But your lips were sealed. It was too much. Irene could try and soothe you, but even she couldn’t always break you. She sighed, but had another solution.

Irene lifted your head off of her lap and stood, rummaging for her keys. You stared at her with confusion. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you to Johnny’s. No buts. If there’s anyone that can get you to open up, it’s him, and the very last thing that you need to be in this state is alone.”

Your eyes flickered with shock. It wouldn’t be the first time that a drunk you had been dropped off at his doorstep - and it more than likely wouldn’t be the last - but you always woke up penitent the next day.

Johnny didn’t deserve that. He deserved better than you.

“But…”

“Ah, ah, ah - I said no ‘but’s,” Irene wielded her dismissive weapon of a finger. Her motherly instincts were kicking in and it meant that her decision was final. “Let’s go.”

With no other option, you followed Irene to her car with a slight stumble in your walk. Given they lived in the same neighborhood, you were at Johnny’s place in a blink. For some reason, you felt nervous. That was how you always felt around Johnny, even if you knew deep down that you had nothing to worry about.

He keeps on taking me in, you thought somberly. He’s nice to me. Even when I don’t deserve it. And I don’t know why.

If you were sober, you might have felt more guilty. Scratch that, you would have felt like nothing short of a villain. And maybe you were. Maybe you were the bad guy, the wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing.

But that was because you couldn’t help but think everyone else was out to get you. Whatever much excuse you could bring yourself to give.

Irene walked you up to Johnny’s doorstep and rang the doorbell. It was late at night and Johnny liked his rest, but he was wide awake when he came to answer the door. And his entire expression changed when his eyes fell on you.

Johnny had seen you too many times too many in this state and just enough to know when you had spent the past few hours maintaining your friendship with alcohol. It was much more effort than you were putting into yours.

Irene squeaked in her soft voice, “Hi.”

He looked stone cold. It made your stomach twist, just a little. Although you knew Johnny was the warmest person there was. He stifled a sigh and said, “Come on, y/n.”

You shuffled right past him and through the doorway. By now it was routine, yet Johnny thought he would never get used to seeing you this way. He tried to help you, tried to get you to break out of your bad habits. And you were genuinely improving. For you to relapse out of the blue meant that you had been triggered.

When the coast was clear, Johnny shot Irene a glare, and snapped, “Why would you let this happen?”

Irene kept a straight face and took his harsh words in stride. If Johnny lashed out at her, she understood. It wasn’t easy dealing with you, loving you, and she could only imagine what it was like to be in love with you. “I know you’re stressed, but don’t antagonize me for her actions, Johnny. I can’t control what she does.”

“No, but you can enable her. And that’s exactly what you do,” Johnny barked.

“She’s one of my closest friends!” Irene shouted, tears brimming in her eyes. “I would never do anything to hurt her. All I want to do is help her. I’ve been trying. Trust me. I’ve been trying so hard, Johnny. But you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to help themselves.”

Irene never cried. Much less in front of men. She was too busy being strong for everyone else to let herself be weak. She deserved to lash out, too. Being the calm friend, the responsible one, was hard. And she felt like she only got closer and closer to losing you everyday.

Johnny simmered down once he realized that she was right. All of this was unwarranted. He knew that doing this for you over and over again was only hurting the both of you, and everyone you loved, but he loved you too goddamn much to let you go.

It was frustrating. It made him angry - loving you. Being in love with you. Hearing his heart call out your name. And watching you use him just to dispose of him when you were done like he was some replaceable toy. What made him even more upset was that you were showing progress, and he thought that maybe something good could finally come out of it. Now he had to watch it all go down the drain.

Johnny rubbed his temple and sighed out, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Irene took a deep breath and exhaled. Johnny knew it wasn’t like her to lose her sense like that, but as long as you were hurting, so was she. “Just take care of her. Please. That’s all I ask.”

Johnny gave a nod of head and turned around. He was about to go inside and check up on you when he heard Irene call his name again.

“Please be patient with her. She’s trying.”

She loves you. Irene didn’t say it, but it was clear as day. Written all over her face, swimming in her dark eyes.

He nodded again, more reluctant this time, then pushed his door open and came inside the house. Glancing around, he didn’t spot you nearby. He called out your name, and when you responded, the sound of your voice led him upstairs to his bedroom.

You were now wearing one of his t-shirts, but it looked more like it was wearing you. Things had been like that since you were in high school. He towered over you with the skies above and yet he was filled of nothing but adoration. The memories of you wearing his clothes almost made him break into a smile. Almost.

Instead, Johnny sat down beside you and said, “Are you gonna tell me what happened now or in the morning?”

You frowned. People always wanted to talk, as if talking would make all your problems magically disappear. All you wanted to do was forget that they existed for as long as you could.

Without saying a word, you unlocked your phone, went to your messages, and handed it to him. Johnny gave you a confused glance, but read the text nonetheless. It was from an unsaved number, but the contents of the message gave away everything he needed to know. Clearly, it was from no one other than your father.

“Shit,” Johnny said, more to himself than anything else.

You pushed your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around your legs. “Yeah. Apparently he wants to make up for leaving his daughter and her mother when she was a toddler and driving the woman he used to love into substance abuse. Funny, right?”

Johnny sighed. No wonder you were beginning to sink back into your old ways. This was a trigger and you knew nothing else.

“How’d he even get your number?”

“My mother’s rash decisions or my cousin’s spite for me, who knows,” you shrugged, chuckling. Family reunions weren’t your favorite. At some point of becoming fed up with your family fiascos, you stopped attending. There was no way that you would see your evil cousin, your old-fashioned grandparents, aunts, and uncles, or even your mother. The only thing she and you shared was resent for your father, but you weren’t sure what she was capable of when drunk.

Johnny frowned. As much as it hurt to see you like this, he understood why you reacted the way you did. He was your best friend and your lover and knew you better than you knew yourself. He knew every bit of your trauma, down to the rawest detail - your childhood, all of the boys you once loved that weren’t him.

Part of him wished that you had given your heart to him first. He would have guarded it with a sword and fought off dragons for you. Instead, the boys you trusted handled it carelessly and shattered it into pieces. Now it was much harder to salvage what was left of it.

Johnny pulled you into his arms. He was angry. Angry at your father, angry at the world, even angry at you. But he wanted to be there for you, even if you took advantage of his kindness. When you felt his hands around you, you wept into his shoulder. He smoothed the palm of his hand against your back, and whispered soothingly into your ear, “It’s okay. Let it all out.”

You wept and wept, until you had no tears left to cry. God, you hated crying in front of other people. You hated being vulnerable, but it came naturally when you were with Johnny. Ever since you became friends in high school. And though Johnny never made a move to hurt you, he could have. That was the part you hated. Being vulnerable to someone meant trusting them not to hurt you the way everyone else had.

When you were done, you pulled away and noticed the damp patch on Johnny’s shirt. “Sorry,” you croaked.

“Shirts can dry,” he reminded, and lifted it above his head. “Let’s go to bed. You can talk to me in the morning when you’re sober.”

You nodded, then climbed into bed with him. To say that you hadn’t been in this position before would have been a lie, but you liked being so close to Johnny. He was your refuge from the world that liked to throw knives at you. And when you bled, he was always there to tend to your bloody scars. He made you feel safe, and that scared you more than anything.

Johnny kissed your forehead. “Goodnight.”

Heat flared in your cheeks. Safe didn’t even scratch the surface of how Johnny made you feel, but it would have to for now. You weren’t ready to unpack your feelings for Johnny. You weren’t ready to confront them.

“Goodnight, Johnny.”

Even in the dark, you saw Johnny smile. And beneath it he hid the storms of emotion induced by you that were killing him softly.

Between the pain of knowing Johnny was hurting because of you and the pain of your hangover, you couldn’t tell what hurt more.

It was a well-practiced routine. You woke up with a splitting headache, a bottle of water and Aspirin waiting for you on his bedside, and sometimes Johnny would be tucked into the sheets next to you. When he wasn’t, he was downstairs making breakfast.

And when you woke up, taking in your surroundings and realizing they were nothing like your bedroom, the regret settled in. You’re so fucking selfish, you chastised to yourself. Johnny was in love with you. That was positively the only reason he put up with your bullshit, but he deserved better.

And you were trying to give him better, to be the one that he needed. Given your habits of sleeping around to ignore the weight tugging at your chest when you thought of Johnny and drinking away your problems, you were trying to stop. Instead of drinking, you ranted to Irene or Johnny. Instead of finding someone to toy with for a night, you tried to be a good friend to Johnny.

It worked. Even the rest of your friends caught on to how much better and healthier you seemed. Then, your dad sent that stupid text and your whole world went crashing down. You didn’t know what to do. You were torn. Ripped and shredded to fucking pieces.

Maybe it was time Johnny accepted that he deserved someone better than you. For his own sake. You were a tainter that ruined everything you touched and rotted it to the core.

You popped the Aspirin and came downstairs. Johnny wasn’t there when you woke up, but judging from the delicious scent wafting through the air, he was downstairs cooking.

“Morning,” you whispered, sitting at the island.

Johnny shot you a glance over his shoulder and tended back to the stove. He was making pancakes. “If it isn’t Sleeping Beauty.”

You blushed and tried to hide it, asking coyly, “Momma’s recipe?”

“You know it.”

That made you crack a soft smile. He was right - you did know. Part of you envied the relationship Johnny had with his parents: strong and healthy. That would never be you. You didn’t remember the last time you spoke to your mother and your father was self-explanatory.

You shook your head, and hopefully the thought away. It was too early. Instead, you focused on Johnny. He was still half-naked, and you caught yourself gazing at the details of his bare back. Damn, did he look good.

Then, you watched him cook, subconsciously trailing off into your own head again. I don’t deserve him. He went above and beyond for you, from making you breakfast to even letting you inside in the first place. He held you and listened to your rants and tried his best to aid you, but you threw that all away. And yet, here he was.

When Johnny was finished cooking, he fixed you both plates and sat across from you. Apart from giving him your gratitude, the two of you ate in silence. After a while, he commented, “I thought you weren’t drinking anymore.”

You stared at your plate, refusing to look Johnny in his eyes. That would kill you - seeing the pain submerged in his eyes staring back in you. It was obvious that you didn’t want to have this conversation, preferring to leave words left unsaid. What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you.

Maybe you already knew and you were trying your hardest to ignore it.

“Old habits die hard,” you murmured, fiddling with your knife and fork.

Your relationship with alcohol was typical. Although you weren’t addicted, it was still unhealthy. For the most part, when you drank, it was to forget about the feelings and thoughts plaguing your heart and mind. Escapism was your go-to coping mechanism. You weren’t strong enough to confront your problems head-on.

“You can’t keep doing this.” We can’t keep doing this.

“I know.”

Johnny sighed. “What’s on your mind?”

You bit your lip. Of course, Johnny could tell when there was something troubling you. There was no hiding from him. He was the only one capable of coaxing you of an answer.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shown up here unannounced expecting you to take care of me.” Just like you always do.

Johnny was quick. “It wasn’t unannounced. Irene texted me.”

“That’s not the point and you know it,” you said, finally looking up at him. The expression he sported was grim. It hurt to see the way he looked at you, but you knew that you didn’t deserve his beautiful smile. 

He sighed and glanced off, almost looking offended. “Then, what is your point?”

You shook your head. You weren’t ready to have this conversation and you doubted that you ever would be. “Forget it.”

“No. Talk to me. I just hate when you freeze me out,” Johnny urged swiftly. He hated it more than anything else. All he wanted was your love, but he was quick to realize that it was hard to thaw your frozen heart out.

Eyes drifting back to your plate, you shook your head and whispered, “I didn’t know what else to do.”

Johnny softened up. For fucks sake, you were impossible, but he had too much sympathy for you. He understood why you acted the way you did, even if that didn’t ease the pain or validate your behavior. Most of all, he didn’t want you to follow your mother’s footsteps and become the person you swore you’d never be.

Last night hurt him, too. Patient was all he had ever been with you. He had been patient with you for at least ten years. He was so sick of waiting, but it was safe to say that no matter what, you would be his first and last love.

When the room got quiet, you spoke up again in a little voice, “He texted me Thursday night. I still haven’t responded. I don’t know what to do anymore, Johnny.”

“Do what you wanna do,” he told you, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s up to you. You don’t have to forgive him. You don’t even gotta respond. What he did was fucked up and he shouldn’t expect you to give in easily. But whatever you choose to do, your first priority should be letting go.”

Letting go. Easier said than done. All your life, letting go had never been your forte. Part of you was still scarred by your past lovers. Grudges ruined your life.

There were reasons why you came out this way. Of course, part of it stemmed from your childhood, though not everything and your identity was intricately layered.

In high school, you fell for Lee Jeno. He was the sweetest boy that you’d ever met - or at least you thought he was - and he almost instantly swept you off your feet. Jeno had all the girls swooning and the fact that he chose you made you feel a special type of bliss. Until you found him making out with a cheerleader in the locker room.

Then, in college, you decided to give romance a second try. It was Osaki Shotaro’s turn to break your heart. You remembered like it was yesterday and it was all so sudden. Out of the blue, Shotaro broke up with you and told you that he wasn’t in love with you anymore. He left you for another woman. You couldn’t imagine how many times he had been with her all while being with you. It made you sick to your stomach.

After that, you were scarred for life, scared shitless of love. Boys proved time and time again without fail that their only intention was to treat your fragile heart like dirt on the bottom of their shoes. They walked all over it, taking advantage of your blind love. Fed you lies and empty promises of forever.

That was why you kept your heart guarded and under lock and key. You intentionally kept your relationships short and discardable - no strings attached. You didn’t want to trust anyone else with your heart. They threw it in the middle of a busy highway and now it was in traffic.

Trust issues, they called it. Issues - that was your forte. And you had a variety. Trust issues, abandonment issues, daddy issues, commitment issues. Whatever the label slapped on them, they all controlled every moment of your life.

Johnny added, “I know that’s easier said than done, but promise me you’ll try. Will you?”

You nodded your head and fought back tears. Weak was the word you used to describe yourself in your head. It was far too easy to break you. “I’ll try, I promise. But I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I believe in you,” Johnny whispered, voice soft yet powerful. You were convinced that he had too much faith in you. Never had anyone believed in you this much. Never had anyone loved you the way that Johnny did and you didn’t know how to accept it.

Your heart was at constant war, unable to choose between two stances. Johnny wasn’t like the other men once in your life. Or maybe he was, yet hid it well. Maybe he was waiting for you to trust him to break your heart.

Both of you finished eating and changed the subject. It was a relief. Johnny hated making things awkward and you were grateful for that.

After a while, Johnny drove you back home. You hated leaving and Johnny hated watching you go, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t used to this cycle. You stood at your doorstep and said, “Thanks for breakfast.”

Johnny nodded. “Any time. When will I see you again?”

He liked seeing you. Just not after a long night of you disregarding your troubles with sex and alcohol.

“My schedule’s packed Monday through Friday, but maybe one of those nights,” you said. Often you found yourself making time for Johnny when there was none. And in return, he did the same. He showed you a good time and to your definition, that meant a night of relieving pent up stress. “If not, I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Okay,” Johnny nodded again. “Later, alligator.”

Before he could leave, you leaned on the tip of your toes and smashed your lips against his. Johnny seemed genuinely caught off-guard, but he wasted no time in kissing you back, stealing your every last breath like there was no tomorrow. You liked kissing Johnny. Apart from the warm feeling boiling in your chest whenever he pressed his lips to yours, he was just so damn good at making you feel like you were on a cloud.

You pulled back and caught your breath, smiling. “After a while, crocodile.”

Johnny grinned and walked back to his car.

You didn’t see Johnny again until the following weekend.

Not that you didn’t speak. You and Johnny were inseparable and spoke everyday if you could, via texting or phone calls when there was no chance of seeing each other in person. You told him that you needed time to yourself and he both respected and encouraged your decision.

You were busy thinking - an upside of Johnny’s influence. Most of the time you hated being in your head and avoided it at all costs. It was a dangerous place to be, but you were trying harder to not disappoint him once more.

In that time, your father sent you another message. He wanted to meet up with you and was unyielding. The ball was in your court. You could agree to hear him out or you could block his number and pretend it never happened, but it was no easy decision.

Saturday approached far too leisurely. Uneventful days of work and pondering led to the date of your friends’ betrothal party.

With a very Yuta-esque spin to it. The event was casual through and through. The dress code was loose and neither party held good relationships with their family, meaning most of the guests were close friends. It was a pool party and everyone would be in the backyard.

When you caught up to Yuta and Winwin, you didn’t hesitate to ask, “Okay, I’ll bite. Who did it? Who popped the question?”

Yuta fought a smirk and shrugged blithely. “Guess.”

“Winwin?”

Winwin shook his head. “Nope. Contrary to popular belief, Yuta’s quite the romantic. In his own way, of course. He even crouched down on one knee.”

It was somewhat believable. The Yuta from before he met Winwin wasn’t the Yuta that stood before you now. He had seen the light and became a man of all things love and cheesy.

Still, you teased, “No way. Can’t believe the main hoe of the town is settling down. What happened to being non-monogamous buddies?”

“Shit changes,” Yuta said, sighing blissfully as he wrapped an arm around Winwin. Then, he teased back, “Besides, we both know it was either me and Winwin or you and Johnny next in fate’s line.”

You blushed and spluttered, “Where’d you get that idea from?”

Both boys laughed like you had told the funniest joke. You narrowed your eyes, and Winwin answered for his future husband, “I know I’m the latest addition to the gang and all, but even I can see the sparks between you and Johnny. There’s obviously something there. I don’t know why you haven’t acted on it.”

Yuta exchanged knowing glances with you. He probably understood you the best out of everyone present. Your life’s weren’t carbon copy’s of each other, but he had lived the closest thing to your trauma. You weren’t ready. For a while, neither was he, but if he could let go and move on, maybe so you could you.

“There’s been sparks since motherfucking junior high. It’s always been a given that you two like each other and you’ll get together one day in the future. I couldn’t see it any other way,” Yuta said.

That should have made you feel happy, but all you could feel was dread and regret fused with yearning. All of your friends could see you together, but you weren’t sure if you could give him that. How selfish of you to be the one holding the two of you back.

You should have told him to move on and let you go. Instead, you avoided confrontation for as long as possible, craving every moment of his love and attention until the flame went out. You didn’t want to give him all of you yet, but you didn’t want to give him away either. Losing Johnny meant that he would never be yours. Maybe that was what it would take for you to open your eyes.

New guests caught Winwin’s eye and he tugged on his fiancé’s arm. “We’ll catch up with you later, we have to greet the other guests. Come on, Yuta.”

“You go ahead, babe. I’ll be right behind you in a minute,” Yuta dismissed. Winwin only nodded and went to greet their guests. Then, Yuta turned to you and quietly asked, “Everything okay between you and Johnny?”

“It’s your engagement party. Don’t worry about us,” you sighed, searching for the bar through the corners of your eyes.

Yuta was quick to retort, “And you’re my friends. I can worry about you whenever I want. Now, what’s up?”

You bit your lip. This wasn’t the kind of conversation you had in the middle of a betrothal party, but Yuta was adamant. You thought about the last time you had seen Johnny, how you felt when you kissed him. God, you missed the feeling of his lips on yours. Whenever Johnny was near your side you wished that you could hit pause on time. It was funny how the most beautiful moments in life were the most short-lived ones.

Your voice was small when you said, “I’m not a good person, Yuta.”

Yuta glanced at you curiously, eyes urging you on. “What you do?”

“I let Johnny down. A couple of weeks ago I told him that I’d try to break out of my habits. And I was actually doing better. I stopped resorting to drinking whenever something inconvenienced me and finding one-night stands to forget about Johnny.”

Yuta nodded along. “And then?”

“And then, my dad texted me and said he wanted to make things right between us, and I didn’t know what else to do. I got drunk last Friday night and Irene took me to Johnny’s house. I don’t remember much, but I know I winded up telling him what happened and crying on his shoulder,” you chuckled sourly. “He made me breakfast the next morning and we talked about it. And I feel bad because he doesn’t deserve none of this shit. He deserves someone better.”

He deserves someone that isn’t afraid to love him.

“Are you gonna be that person?” Yuta questioned, tone genuine.

I want to be. You exhaled. You didn’t know the answer to that.

You blinked, feeling tears threatening to fall. “I don’t know. The worst part is he has so much faith in me when I’m not even sure about myself. He should have walked away a long time ago, but he’s still here, waiting for me.”

“He’s ready when you are. But you aren’t ready yet, are you?”

Shaking your head, you frowned. You were far from.

“Be better. Do better,” Yuta said assertively. “I know that’s harder than it sounds, but you gotta try. Figure that shit out with your dad. What you choose to do is none of my business, but you have to heal and let it go so that you can be a better person for yourself and for Johnny.”

“That’s practically what Johnny said.”

“Great minds think alike,” Yuta grinned.

You snickered. “You got engaged and got all wise and shit, huh?”

“You know the tale. My dad was a drunk and treated me and my Mom like shit. It was up to me to decide if I wanted to grow into him, or if I wanted to be better,” he spoke monotonously.

But you were scared. You wanted to do things the right way, but you weren’t certain if you knew how. “What if I mess up?”

Yuta didn’t hesitate. “The point of mistakes is to learn. We all fuck up once or twice. That way, you know what not to do so you don’t fuck up the third time. It sucks, but that’s the way life works. Don’t make the same mistake thrice.”

He spoke the gospel. Where your family lacked, you were at least glad to have supportive friends. They were kind and you knew at the end of the day, they were people you could confide in. Maybe you would do it more often.

“I won’t,” you told Yuta. You sounded firm.

“Good,” he replied, and scanned the crowd for Winwin. “Now I gotta go with Winwin before he beats my ass in front of everybody. You go find Johnny, alright?”

You nodded. That you would. It had been too long since you had heard his voice and felt his touch and you were craving a taste. With that, Yuta left to join his husband-to-be and you scanned the crowd for your own lover.

In an instant your eyes landed on Johnny and you could spot him in any crowd. He was at the edge of the pool talking to Ten, who you caught casting Johnny a wink before walking away once he noticed you coming over.

When you got there, you crouched down and sat next to him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Johnny greeted, instinctively wrapping an arm around your waist. “You look great.”

You blushed. This morning you had deliberately chosen the sexiest bikini set in your wardrobe. It raised the stakes and given how addicted Johnny was to your body, your chances at getting laid tonight. “You look the best.”

Johnny was also half-naked, obviously. And damn did he look gorgeous. You bit your lip. You were thoroughly convinced that the gods themselves had sculpted him. His body was to die for and you were offering yourself up.

Johnny joked, “I won’t argue with that.”

You snickered and nudged his side.

“How was your work week?”

Johnny groaned and you immediately knew the answer to that question. “I’m stressed and exhausted. I need an outlet for my pent up frustration.”

“Oh?” you stammered, mouth suddenly dry.

“Yeah,” Johnny said. His hand ran up and down your back and he leaned to your side, whispering, “Good thing I have you, right?”

There was a crushing weight on your chest that made it difficult to breathe. Whenever Johnny was near you, the pressure came back, and it only got more intense when he did things like that. The effect he had on you was strong and he had you tingling with lust.

“Yeah,” you murmured back, trying hard to keep your cool and avoid appearing anything other than indifferent. But he could see right through you. “Good.”

“What about you?” Johnny pressed. “How was your week?”

“I don’t wanna think about it,” you grumbled.

Johnny was so close to you that you could feel the warmth of his body radiating your skin. Given the sunny weather, you were already hot, but something about this felt internal. It was like trying to breathe on the moon. Johnny parted his lips and suggested, “Kiss me until you forget about it.”

There was no need to tell you twice. You initiated the kiss, steering his lips to yours until they met with a clash. Johnny took control, arms still wrapped around you as he took passion to another level. It wasn’t long before you were sucking on each other’s tongues. You crawled into his lap for easier access, wanting to be as close to him as humanly possible.

Heat flared from your chest to Johnny’s and vice versa, spreading from bone to bone at the skin on skin contact. Whenever you made out, it was like you were floating in air or navigating through space with no gravity. His hands clung to your body and you were on a cloud, elevating and trying your hardest to refrain from grinding down on his crotch.

Johnny deepened the kiss, holding you tightly as possible and moving his mouth against yours fiercely. His heart was thundering against and threatening to leap out of the cage of his bare, burly chest. God, there was no greater pleasure than kissing you and feeling your warm body on his. But you both were putting all of your strength into resisting each other and it was too much. The feelings were overbearing.

When you both pulled away, you exhaled little breaths, hearts racing. You looked Johnny in his lustful eyes and heaved, “I like kissing you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You taste good as hell,” you flirted.

“Mm,” Johnny hummed, nodding his head. He pulled you square to his chest, face hovering hardly inches over yours. You gulped, which undoubtedly didn’t go unnoticed. “What do I taste like?”

You pressed your palms to his naked chest, purring, “Strawberry champagne.” 

“Yeah, you missed the bottle popping,” he chuckled. God knows you would have loved that.

Faking a pout, you replied, “Bummer. I was too busy trying on different bikinis.”

“You wear this all for me?” Johnny flirted, ever the intuitive man. Unbeknownst to you, he had been eyeing you from the moment you stepped onto the scene. And the second he laid eyes on you in your bright red bikini, he knew that he had to have his way with you.

“Especially for you. I know blue’s your favorite color, but red suits me better.”

“You make short work of supermodels in anything you wear,” Johnny growled. He was looking at you from head to toe, as if he were going to swallow you whole.

“You’re just saying that because you wanna have sex with me.”

Johnny wasted no time in shutting you down. “I’m saying it because it’s true. Sex would be a nice bonus, though.”

You laughed.

“Come swim with me,” Johnny said, gently sitting you back on the edge of the pool before coming to his feet.

You hesitated. “Won’t Yuta be upset we ditched him at his engagement party?”

“That wasn’t a question,” Johnny added, lowering his voice. Which definitely did unspeakable things to you. “And trust me - Yuta doesn’t give a flying fuck as long as we join in when it’s time to gather around and shit.”

That was true. It didn’t mean Yuta had unsophisticated tastes, he simply just didn’t care for rules and formalities - untraditional by any means. Winwin was the opposite. Conventional to a fault, he was a man of decorum and the party was a clear mix of both of their personalities. Somehow, they both made it work.

Ignore the pace of your heartbeat, you muttered, “Okay,” and sunk into the pool.

Johnny followed suit with a tiny splash, swimming to your side. Being in the water felt good, all things considered. It was cold and gave your brain - and body - a quick refresh.

“You know, this reminds me of high school,” he started, pensive. “When Joy threw that pool party on the first night of summer break, and Jaehyun pushed you into the pool as a joke.”

The memory made you roll your eyes. In high school you were nothing if not a bunch of stupid teenagers. “He’s lucky I didn’t let myself drown and have my Mom sue him for everything he’s worth. Now that I think about it, I should have. Every penny to his name. Mommy and Daddy Jung would have killed him.”

Johnny chuckled. “Oh for sure. He would have been taking the city bus instead of high-end luxury cars and gotten a job at the nearest McDonald’s like the rest of us.”

“Damn nepo baby,” you shook your head and sighed. “Gotta love him, though.”

“To be born into wealth,” Johnny sighed dramatically.

You giggled.

Moments later, a thought passed your mind. A memory - the beautiful kind. You fought a smile and asked, “You know what else happened at that party?”

Johnny gave you a long, hard cook. It was practically inscrutable and noncommittal. If he had any idea what you were referring to, the only thing that gave it away was the slight smile on his face for a mere fraction of a second.

Of course, he knew. How could he forget? It was easily one of the best moments of his life, made even better because it was spent underneath the moonlight with you.

He shrugged, feigning oblivion. “What happened?”

“We made out for the first time,” you reminded, voice little. “We were each other’s first kiss.”

The memory was anything but vague. The both of you were a little drunk, and somehow found yourselves in each other’s embrace. And then, in each other’s mouths. For someone who had never made out with anyone before, then-Johnny kissed you like royalty. With every intention to conquer your mind, heart, and body.

In that sense, you guessed he had been successful. Johnny lived rent-free in your mind and had built a little home both there and in your heart, with enough room for the both of you. Not to mention your body. You were counting down the seconds until you could get him in the sheets right now. In your attempts to keep him out, you had simultaneously been giving him access to the most vulnerable parts of you.

To say nothing of himself. Johnny wished he could turn back time. Part of him wished that he could undo meeting you and falling in love with you, because he was beginning to lose faith in the two of you. The other part of him loved you too goddamn much to even begin to imagine a world without you in it. It wouldn’t be worth living.

“I remember,” Johnny assured, finally letting himself smile. He couldn’t control it. “Wanna know what you tasted like?”

You squinted. “What?”

“Guess.”

You rolled your eyes and deadpanned, “Your mother’s chocolate chip cookies.”

Johnny’s laugh was mocking. “You wish.”

Whining, you said, “Tell me! I don’t remember.”

He gave in - though because he wanted to and not because you told him to - and replied, “Tequila.”

“The cheap kind?”

“Nope. I’m sure Jaehyun stole that from Mommy and Daddy Jung’s liquor stash,” he quipped.

You snickered. It was a relief that he was good at directing conversation. For a moment, you thought that it was going south. God knows the past was a sensitive subject.

Although he said nothing, Johnny couldn’t help but think about it. For years, he had been in love with you. He remembered meeting you like it was yesterday - you were the new kid in school and Johnny was the one kind enough to be your friend. He showed you around, ate lunch with you, studied with you, and introduced you to his friend group. In no time, you were best friends.

You were his first kiss. Johnny knew he wanted you that night. When he pressed his lips to yours and felt his body elevating into the clouds above, he knew.

Eventually you became a series of each other’s firsts. First kisses, first times, first loves. You had been vulnerable to each other in ways that you hadn’t with anyone else.

And you, you were multifaceted. Johnny had seen the rawest sides of you and fell hard and deep in love with each one - the beautiful and the ugly. All of those things made you fall for Johnny, too, but you noticed it a little later than he did, once it was too late. Which hindered his progress.

By the time you realized you were in love with Johnny, you had already given your heart to the wrong people. That was why you couldn’t comprehend how someone would ever be able to offer you their love, and mean it. That was why you trusted no one.

Forget being your first. Johnny wanted to be your last and as the clock ticked, his chances felt slimmer and slimmer.

You stared at his lips, not even attempting to hide the direction your eyes were searching. “I want strawberry champagne.”

Johnny tilted his head. He had x-ray vision when it came down to your intentions, though this game he wouldn’t mind playing along with. “Do you?”

When you nodded, Johnny took the bait and leaned in to kiss you. It was like magic. Every time felt as surreal as the first one. You just couldn’t believe that you were blessed enough to have him at your fingertips.

Johnny was the same. I love her. It was old news to almost everyone, though the realization hit Johnny the same way it had that night when he first tasted you. When he realized that you were the one and only love of his life.

Sucking on Johnny’s tongue and moaning into his mouth, soaking in all his little sounds was all you wanted to do. Maybe this was why Yuta said you and Johnny would be next in fate’s line. It would be a lie to say that you hadn’t dreamt of having your daddy walk you down the aisle to the man of your dreams.

Though if there was anything that you had learned, it was that fate was an evil lady and she had it out for you.

Johnny soon backed off. He hadn’t had his fill, but you were driving him crazy. And as much as he wanted to be a good friend to Yuta, the urge to drag you away for a fuck was growing stronger. He warned in a low tone, “We’ll miss the rest of the party if you keep kissing me.”

“What’s so bad about that?” you purred, leaning closer to his face. You could feel each other’s breath on your skin. “We can have a party of our own.”

To your credit, you were dangerously skilled at tempting Johnny. It made him feel bad to think that you practically already were having a party of your own. Both of you were surrounded by people, but to him, it felt like there was no one else around you. The sound of your voice and laughter had been drowning out the sound of the presence of people.

With the last of his restraint and self-control, he said, “Mm, that’s tempting. But no. Be a good girl and be patient.”

Immediately, you frowned, but didn’t dare disobey. Johnny would give you what you wanted sooner or later because you knew that he wanted you, too. And though you had your flaws, you weren’t terrible enough to dip in the middle of your friend’s betrothal party.

“Fine,” you said exasperatedly, peeling yourself off of him. “But you better make it up to me later.”

Johnny gave you one last kiss to placate you a little, then whispered softly in your ear, “Don’t I always?”

That he did.

For the better half of the evening, both of you decided to interact with other people, including the ones being celebrated. Most of the time you and Johnny were incapable of resisting each other, and with the thoughts plaguing your minds, there was no way on earth that you would survive side to side without breaking your agreement.

You had a fun time, but you were more than relieved when Winwin announced that he and Yuta wanted some alone time. Everyone said their goodbyes and you raced to Johnny’s side.

“My place or yours?”

“Mine’s closer. Meet you there?” Johnny asked, though he already knew you would. You were practically careening to your car the moment he got the words out.

“Meet you there!”

Both of you arrived in turn, with you slightly ahead of him. You didn’t even wait for him to pull into the driveway before you were rummaging through your purse for the extra key Johnny had bestowed upon you long ago.

It was game over once he stepped out of his car and you were only alone for a split second before he entered, wasting no time in backing you against a wall and stealing a kiss. Johnny always kissed you like it was the last time he would ever get the chance. There was something eager in the way that his mouth moved against yours. It was heated, unchaste. He kissed you so hard that it was impossible to keep up with his pace.

“Someone’s desperate,” you teased through shallow breaths. Johnny nibbled at your ear and you sighed, pitching your head back against the plaster.

He ribbed, breath tickling your neck, “You’d oughta know a thing or two about being desperate. Seeing as you got to my house before me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Under any other circumstances, Johnny would have teased you and made you wait before he kissed you again. Though seeing as he had been waiting too goddamn long for this moment, all he could do was cave.

Goddamn, his lips were soft. In contrast to the rough manner he handled your body. Everything was escalating too quickly and you were being dug into the wall by the weight of his body. There was so much tension in the room that you could hardly even breathe through it.

Johnny nudged his knee between your thighs and stuck his hand down your bottoms, the other roaming your body. “You’re so wet for me.”

“Do something about it,” you whined.

Johnny sneered. Part of him was half-tempted to tease the living hell out of you and see how much you could take. The other was losing hold of his heavy load of patience much more quickly than he would have liked.

“Wanna fuck in the shower to wash off the chlorine? Kill two birds with one stone.”

“Just don’t let me fall.”

He smiled. “I would never.”

Before you knew it, he was lifting you up in his arms like you weighed nothing. You squealed when you felt yourself being hauled into the air, locking your legs around his waist and resting your head on his shoulder. It felt too right being in his hold. As if it was supposed to be this way.

Maybe it was.

Johnny carried you to his bedroom and you clung to his chest for dear life. While he went in the bathroom to run the shower, you began to quickly peel off your clothes. You were on the threshold of insanity, bursting at the seams with lust. 

When the water was hot, Johnny stepped into the shower and you followed suit. As soon as your feet hit the non-skid shower mat Johnny shoved you against the wall, and the noise you made was eaten by the force of his lips. Your palms rose to his wet chest and his mouth fell from yours to your collarbone, soft and plush against your skin.

He simply couldn’t stay away. He spread your thighs apart and slipped one of hands back between them, this time moving them inside of you. Much to your pleasure. “Johnny,” you whimpered, breathless.

The sound of your lips parting to emit his name was like music to his ears and a melody stuck in his head. Thoughts of you underneath him, crying out his name whilst taking his size kept him up late at night, wishing he could rewind time to feel you back in his arms again. Where you belonged. It took every bit of willpower he had not to beg you to stay.

“Think you’re ready for me?” Johnny asked, leering at you with the darkest gaze that made your stomach churn.

You nodded. Johnny was big, that was undeniable, but you had taken every inch of his ungodly combination of length and girth countless times before like a champ. It was almost nothing to you.

He removed his fingers from your cunt and before you got the chance to whine from the emptiness, your lips were widening to sigh at the feeling of his bare cock brushing against your folds. Every second felt like minutes and your patience was wearing more and more thin. You needed him and you needed him right now.

Then, Johnny finally pushed inside, taking his sweet time to fill you. You swallowed him in with ease, simultaneously sucking in the deepest breath you could take. His eyes fell on your chest, water trickling down the swell of your breasts as you inhaled and exhaled.

Maybe taking him wasn’t like nothing. You felt not an ounce of pain, but the pleasure of having him fill you to the uttermost was overwhelming. The stretch meant something.

The moment the head of his girth prodded your entrance Johnny had already felt you pulsing tightly around him and you only kept clenching the deeper he pushed inside. You raced to anchor yourself, clawing at his shoulders while he pushed you firmer against the wall and he caged you between his big arms.

Johnny kissed your neck, then growled, “So tight for me.”

“All for you,” you stammered through thick breaths. It was too hot to breathe. The water burned your skins and Johnny made you erupt in flames all over.

Johnny grinned smugly.

Through hooded eyes, you soaked in the sight of water cascading down his neck - where his muscles flexed - and chest. For the better half of your life, Johnny had been a presence, but you would never get used to how gorgeous he was. His beauty was so ethereal to the point that it felt forbidden to be able to touch him like this. He was sent from the heavens above, both a blessing and a curse to you and your body.

The chains of restraint that bounded him snapped and Johnny latched his mouth to your nipple, meriting an automatic sigh of pleasure from your lips. With how close he was, you wondered if he could feel the thud of your heartbeat. It was racing inside your chest, the feelings you had for him raining hail and begging for freedom. Your heart was bursting at the seams with your love for Johnny and it pleaded desperately for you to unlock its door.

“You’re so hot,” Johnny whispered, keeping himself occupied with your body. Your brain was going into autopilot.

From Johnny’s perspective, your body was a treasure, and he knew its map by heart. All of your weaknesses were on display in his mind and he could choose whichever one he wanted to use to his advantage. He knew what felt good and what felt earth-shattering, and judging from the way you throttled his cock, this was the latter.

Neither you or Johnny talked too much during sex. It was difficult to speak when you were being fucked divested of every little thought you possessed and your mouth was too busy producing other noises.

And all Johnny hoped was that his body could say everything that words could not.

He couldn’t think of anyone else when he was with you, and when you were with someone else, you were still thinking of Johnny. Given the amount of nights you had spent searching for one-night stands you were no stranger to sex, but Johnny made it feel different. The emotions were stronger and so was the yearning. The two of you fucked each other like you had never wanted anything so badly before in your lives.

Johnny struck you somewhere deep and you rasped, “Fuck, baby.”

Fuck, he felt good. Even though you were prone to running away, there was no doubt that you would find yourself coming back for more. Johnny was your home and your heart would always drag you back to him. He owned your body. Whatever he desired to do with you - to you - you would let him. At the end of the day, you were his. Whether he knew it and you accepted it or not.

It wasn’t a choice. It was a feeling.

Looking at the dazed expression on your face gave him deja vu. The first time Johnny had sex with you, he genuinely thought that his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He was nervous, but if anything, dedicated. He vowed to himself that he would learn the ways of your body and put your pleasure before his. Which he did.

It was college, months before you met your soon-to-be ex, and you were freshmen. Giving your virginity to one another was one of the most unsurprising things that you two had ever done. At least back then, you were thick as thieves and did everything together. Who better to give it to than the one you could always bet on?

He still remembered that night like it was yesterday. All of your friends were going to a party, but you snuck inside his dorm while his roommates were away. One thing led to another and soon you were writhing beneath him, calling out his name like it was the only word you knew.

His feelings for you only heightened.

Johnny could still remember how heartbroken he was when you got with another man again - and how angry he was when he broke your heart just like the last guy. The emotions were so prominent that he could still feel them now. How long would it take you to realize that the man meant for you was already right by your side?

Even if he wasn’t the perfect match for you, Johnny knew deep down that he could love you better, because he already had without even needing to be in a relationship with you. Maybe if those boys had treated you right, then he could have came to peace with the fact that fate wasn’t on his side and you weren’t meant to be. But watching you cry after other men treated you like nothing only fed his flame.

“You close, baby?” Johnny asked, aiming to take you over the edge. His number one goal was to drive you out of your mind.

You could only nod, willing yourself not to speak. The words that would have left your mouth if you did were unimaginable.

Johnny fucked you even harder, chasing relentlessly for your orgasms. And you were just as - if not more - eager. He fought a complacent simper as he admired the way you were maneuvering your hips against his, whimpering with every touch.

The look on his face made you run your tongue over your dry lips. Barely were you resisting the urge to smash your lips against his. That look alone made you want to milk him dry of everything he was worth.

As badly as you wanted to savor every last moment, you could feel it in your bones that your orgasm was approaching. Listening to the noises resounding throughout the bathroom was what finished you - the sounds of your moans and Johnny’s hips slapping into yours with every thrust drowning out that of the shower pouring down on you both. You convulsed with release, gripping Johnny’s biceps for dear life as you met your orgasm with a high-pitched cry of his name.

Johnny wasn’t too far behind you. He couldn’t even grunt at the feeling of your nails digging into his flesh - it was outweighed by that of the pleasure of you clenching tightly around him with orgasm. It triggered his own, and he held you bruisingly tight as he spilled inside you with the lowest groan he could muster.

“You okay?” Johnny asked the moment you both were in the clear to speak.

You nodded weakly. “Perfect.”

Johnny smiled.

The two of you actually showered once you had caught your breaths, occasionally interrupting the other with a kiss. When you got out of the shower and re-dressed, Johnny pinned you to his bedroom wall and enveloped your lips in the biggest kiss yet. It was noticeably different from the other kisses that you had shared as of late. They were lustful and impatient. This was slow and steady - like he wanted nothing more than to savor the very taste of you.

He pulled away and whispered adoringly, “I love you.”

Your brain immediately went into overdrive. Given that you were childhood best friends, of course you and Johnny had said that you’d loved each other before. That was indubitable and not to be questioned. But this was different. This was in the context of a post-sex I love you.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

Johnny bristled. “I do mean it. I love you.”

Sighing, you walked off to his bed. You weren’t ready to have this conversation.

He stared at you incredulously, and reminded, “I’m not them.”

It was obvious who them was. Your past lovers. The ones that had left you so heartbroken that you could no longer let anyone inside your glass heart.

You shook your head, voice small when you replied, “I don’t know that.”

Johnny was visibly offended and upset. “How can you say that?”

“I don’t want to fight, John,” you said, exhaling loudly. This had escalated far too quickly and everything was heading in the wrong direction. For as long as you could, you wanted to steer clear of this course. But deep down, you knew that it had been inevitable.

He ignored you, walking closer to you and pestering, “I need answers. Do you really think I don’t love you?”

“Johnny…”

He didn’t relent. “Answer me.”

Frustrated, you shouted, “I don’t know what to think, Johnny! I’m scared to trust people - you know this!”

“And do you think I deserve to be punished for that?” Johnny snapped, white-hot rage seeping through and his restraints falling loose. “You and I both know I’m not just ‘people.’ We’ve known each other longer than you knew them. I’ve been here with you, for you, for a goddamn eternity. When have I ever let you down, huh? Tell me!”

His tone made you flinch and you were given whiplash. Johnny rarely got upset and never did he ever yell at your face, even if you sometimes deserved it. He was patient with you. For him to finally snap meant that you had wounded him deeply.

“I’m scared,” you croaked, teary-eyed.

“Right, you’re scared,” Johnny groused, turning around and heaving a thick breath. “Forget it.”

Pain burned through your chest in flares much like the anger spreading like wildfire throughout Johnny’s. Goddamn, this hurt. Was love supposed to be so complicated? Was love supposed to ache like this?

It hurt so good to love Johnny.

You stood up and shook your head. “No,” you told him, demanding, “Get it off your chest. Everything you want to say to me - say it right damn now!”

It wasn’t for you. No, you knew that the following words to come out of his mouth were going to scar you indefinitely. It was for Johnny. You knew that he had been holding all of this back for a long time and now this was his chance to erupt his heart volcano.

Johnny stormed right back over and said, “You want me to be honest?”

You nodded, tears rolling down your cheeks. He deserved it. You deserve it. You treat him like shit.

“Fine. I’ll be honest,” he seethed. You gulped, bracing yourself for his words to come. “You wanna know something? You’re so fucking selfish. You’ve been breaking my heart just because you’re trying not to get yours broken.”

That was true. You had been sacrificing his feelings in an effort to preserve yours and it was a futile plan - Johnny had already crawled his way inside your heart, yet you were still trying to keep him out.

“You have too much pride to show people your scars and that’s why every time I get closer, you push me away. Because all you know how to do is run like a coward. That’s what you’ve resorted to your whole life because you don’t know any better. But you can’t hide.”

You bobbed your head, willing yourself not to speak. Both of you needed this.

Johnny’s voice got lower as he said, “You think you can hide, but you can’t. You can’t fucking drink all your problems away. You can’t fuck them away, either. You can’t keep running to me and using me to dry your goddamn tears every time you realize all your problems are still there!”

“Johnny…” you called out through tears. As true as his words were, they stung. And guilt was eating at you from the inside.

“No. You fucking asked for this shit,” Johnny snapped, scowling. “I’ve been nice to you and patient with you, but all you do is take me for granted. And it hurt when you said you didn’t think I loved you, because I could have stopped putting up with your bullshit and cut you off a long time ago - but I didn’t. You know why? Because I fucking love you. And walking away would hurt as much as it does to stay.”

You told him softly, “I love you, Johnny.”

“Do you love me enough to stay?”

The room got silent. Did you? You knew that you wanted to, but damn was it hard. You were just so goddamn scared of hurt and betrayal. You had been left before and it broke you. It shredded you to the tiniest of pieces. But Johnny made you feel complete and whole again.

“Answer me. So I know if it’s time we move on,” Johnny commanded, impatient. “Am I just some booty call to you?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what the hell are you saying?”

“That I need you!” you screamed, the tension getting to your head - and your heart. It was too goddamn much. “I can’t live without you, Johnny. I can’t. I won’t. I’m scared because I don’t want to lose what we have. Losing you would be like losing the other half of me.”

Johnny got in your face again, but instead of yelling at you, he smashed his lips against yours. Just like that, you were relieved of the burden of all your fears and worries. He absorbed them and kept them somewhere safe, just like he did with all of your other secrets.

He kissed you with an emotion that was unmistakable - love. So much love. Maybe you had been blind to it before, but you could see it all clearly now.

Johnny was in love with you. And you were in love with Johnny.

“You’ll never, ever lose me,” Johnny swore in your ear once he detached himself from your mouth. He wiped at your tears with his thumb. “I promise. You’ve got me for life, alright?”

With a couple nods of your head, you crashed into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you snugly, welcoming your touch. This was where you were meant to be.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized after a couple of moments. It didn’t undo the pain you had been inflicting upon him for years, but it was a starting point for something better.

Johnny held you closer and kissed your forehead, then whispered softly, “I forgive you.”

He shouldn’t have, though you were grateful that he did. If it weren’t for his tenderheartedness, you weren’t sure what you would do.

“Let me be yours,” you sang.

It was tempting. You were offering him everything he had ever wanted on a silver platter. Granted, it didn’t take much to satisfy him - all he wanted was you. But as much as he wanted you, he wanted the most authentic version of you.

“Not yet,” Johnny said. You gawked, but he finished before you could interject, “I want to be in a relationship with you, but you need to take care of yourself first. Start tackling your problems. For starters, figure out what you’re going to do about your dad. Okay?”

You exhaled a long breath, but eventually nodded. “Okay.”

Johnny fought a content smile. “I’ll support whatever decision you choose to make,” he assured, pulling you closer to his chest. Then, he glanced down and asked, “Now - are you gonna run away or are you gonna stay the night?”

“I’m going to confront my fears and stay with you,” you whispered, refusing to separate yourself from the warmth of his body. You weren’t sure how you had done it before in the past. Tonight had given you an epiphany.

“Atta girl,” Johnny praised and led you to his bed. You flopped to his side, snuggling to his chest. “I have to go to work in the morning. Promise me I’ll wake up to your pretty face for motivation.”

You giggled, your laughter ringing through his mind beautifully. “I’ll be there. I promise, baby.”

Johnny was beaming from ear to ear. God, you loved seeing him like this. Happy. And he was happy because of you.

He couldn’t wait to wake up beside you in the morning.

Given their engagement, Yuta and Winwin were to have plenty of parties and the betrothal party was only one of many. Today marked the day of the housewarming party.

Their engagement meant that their relationship had developed into something serious. With marriage rapidly approaching, they were certain that they wanted to spend every moment of their lives together. And thus, they decided to move in with each other.

Which was how their new home came to be.

Guests spread out and filled the house to its brim, most of the ones you didn’t recognize being associates of Sicheng. After a couple of hours, you got off of your feet and went to rest in the living room.

And when you saw two very familiar men approaching you, you knew that you would be doing anything but resting.

“Oh no.”

Jaehyun and Ten sang in harmony, “Oh, yes.”

Watching the two of them take seats beside you, you could only wonder what in tarnation they were up to. Jaehyun and Ten were individual wildfires all by themselves, so you weren’t sure if you were ready to face the aftermath of combining the pair. Part of you was certain something would blow up in flames.

Narrowing your eyes, you asked cautiously, “What do you two bloodthirsty leeches want?”

“Chill, babe. We just wanted to hang with our favorite friend,” Jaehyun said. Given the untamed smile on his face, you highly doubted that. Jeong Jaehyun was nothing if not sheer trouble. And his partner in crime, too.

Ten nodded his head in confirmation. “Right,” he smirked, then pointed to the cup beside you. “What’s that - Bacardi?”

“Ha, ha,” you responded, deadpan. “No, bitch. It’s water. Contrary to an oddly popular belief, I’m not an alcoholic.”

Jaehyun interjected, “Babe, I can’t tell the difference between you and an alcoholic. That’s a problem.”

“What he said. I can hear your liver screaming ‘Ten, help me. Help me. Please…’”

You snapped, “Did you guys just come over here to terrorize me or is there something meaningful you have to say?”

Jaehyun leaned and asked quietly, like he was telling you a top-notch secret, “It’s because of Johnny, right?”

You spluttered, “What?”

He smiled, adding, “Don’t worry - you can tell me. Your secret is safe with me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, enough of the bullshit. Fess up,” Ten groaned in your other ear. Meanwhile you were thinking of ways to remove yourself from the Jaehyun-Ten you were between. “Something happened between you and Johnny. Something good.”

It wasn’t a question. He was saying that something happened and he knew it - he just didn’t know what. Yet.

You bit your lip. “Why do you say that?”

“Johnny’s been doing better lately, too. He’s been smiling more and in a better mood recently,” Ten replied, a spark of something raw and tender in his voice. “I like seeing him this way. It feels like I got the old Johnny back.”

Jaehyun nodded, all of the signs of jokes and games gone from his eyes. His expression was nothing short of soulful. “Me, too. There’s clearly been a shift. And whatever happened between you two, I hope it doesn’t shift back. He’s in a good place right now and so are you.”

Johnny had been happier lately. Everywhere he went he stood like a tall beam of light, radiating energy and warmth. And you two technically weren’t even together yet.

There was no way in hell that you would mess that up again. True to your promise to Yuta, you wouldn’t make the same mistake thrice. You had learned from your wrongdoings and decided that you were going to treat Johnny’s heart the same way you wanted others to treat yours. With caution and hypervigilance.

He deserved to be loved. Every bit of him. And you loved him to pieces.

“I won’t mess it up,” you assured them, confident. You knew what you wanted. And though you were still scared to go after it, you were willing to face your fears for Johnny. “I swear.”

Ten and Jaehyun smiled contentedly and replied in sync, “Good.”

Across the house, Johnny was having a similar conversation with your friends. And you were none the wiser.

“Hey, tough guy!” Yeri called out, grabbing Johnny’s attention. If it weren’t for the fact that she had bestowed the nickname upon him ages ago and was hellbent on sticking to her guns, he would have kept walking. She folded her arms across her chest and said, “Let’s talk.”

Johnny flickered his eyes between Yeri and the woman beside her - Irene - and a terrible feeling settled in his chest. Reluctantly, he admitted lightheartedly, “I feel unsafe.”

Both women responded in unison, “Good.”

He brought his plastic cup from his lips, then asked, “What’s this about?”

“You and y/n,” Irene said, eyeing him suspiciously.

Yeri wasted no time. “Are you two dating?”

On cue, Johnny’s heart seemed to boom at the mere thought of being in a relationship with you. As much as he wanted to make you his that night and as terribly as he fought against his every irrational decision, it wasn’t convenient timing. He wanted you to heal before anything.

Johnny feigned indifference, replying honestly, “No, we’re not. Why?”

Irene sat on the couch nearby, glancing off pensively. “She’s been… better again. She told us that she wouldn’t be drinking again for a while and she’s been opening up to me more and I’m proud of her. I just thought that it might’ve had something to do with you. You’re one of the biggest influences in her life, you know?”

“Yeah.” Johnny nodded. “I know.”

“And considering you haven’t given me the side eye yet, I think you’ve been happier, too.”

Johnny chuckled.

Then, Yeri cut to the chase and warned aggressively, “Take care of her, Johnny. I trust you, but you know how she can get. And if you break her heart, so help me I will…”

Irene reached for her friend’s hand and quickly interjected, “Yeri, I think they’re gonna be okay.”

Gladly, Johnny thought so, too. Things were far from perfect, though they were still going well and he was simply content to see that you were giving the two of you a try. He was tired of giving more than he was receiving and he had faith that those days were coming to an end.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Johnny repeated, assuringly. He believed it. He believed in you and him together. “But I appreciate all of your concern.”

Arms still folded and eyes still narrowed, Yeri eased up and nodded. Content, she walked off.

Irene rose from the chair and gazed up at Johnny, whispering softly, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being patient with her,” she replied, full of gratitude. Then - in an even tinier voice - she added, “And for doing what I couldn’t have done.”

Johnny said with no hesitation, “I would do anything for her.”

“I know. You’re strong.”

“So are you.”

Irene smiled. With that, she went to go meet back up with the rest of the girls.

Over the course of the following couple of weeks, you had been putting your all into becoming a better person. You kept to your word, steering clear of alcoholic beverages - more especially in mentally trying times - and you vented to your friends whenever necessary. They didn’t mind one bit. Anything was better than your typical methods of extreme self-destruction.

The passionless hook-ups came to an end, too. Johnny and you had never been exclusive, and though you weren’t yet together, it was impossible to do as much as imagine yourself with another person. Johnny’s touch was the only one that you wanted to feel on your body. You wanted to feel the way he poured his heart out to you whenever you had sex.

You wanted love. You wanted passion and fondness and intimacy.

And Johnny delivered.

After a while, you came to a decision about your father. One day, you chose to answer. In those that followed, you stalled to the best of your ability, still indecisively wavering over the option to meet him in person.

But the conversations, both through text and over the phone, swayed you. It broke you to hear his voice and vice versa. Talking to him for the first time in decades was life-changing.

That was how you ended up outside of a restaurant, fast forward some weeks later.

Johnny helped you out of his car, walking you to the front of the building. Your fingers were interwoven, and he let you clutch his hand when you felt nervous. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

You nodded. Though you were sure, you were anxious. And you were grateful that he had so much power over you, to the point that his mere touch made you feel at ease again.

“I’m sure,” you said, clinging close to him.

“Breathe, baby,” Johnny whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck. “I’ll be right outside waiting for you. Okay?”

Waiting for you. What would you do without him?

Instead of replying, you whirled around and stood on your tiptoes, kissing his lips. Johnny kissed you back with fervor, holding you like you would fall if he were to let you go.

Through your heavy breaths, both nerve-induced and from the breathlessness of making out with him, you confessed gently, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Johnny replied without hesitation. It was a no-brainer. He loved you. So goddamn much. And that was exactly what you needed to hear. “Now go meet your old man.”

That was the last push you needed. You were standing on the threshold of a self-healing journey and that was what made you swing the gates open.

You approached the table your dad reserved. It must have been miles away, because when you got there, you couldn’t breathe.

Your father looked at you, face full of sincere emotion. He stared at you with so much awe, incredulous through and through. Tears threatened to fall from both of your eyes.

You croaked thickly, “Dad.”

“Princess,” he heaved back.

His arms were wide open and you raced in, desperate. The tears began to rain. You couldn’t even remember the last time that your father had held you. This is what you had been missing. During all those heartbreaking times, this is what you needed most.

Soon, he began to apologize profusely, voice bursting with shame and regret. There was absolutely no satisfactory explanation that he could offer you - you just needed to know that although he couldn’t take it back, he would do whatever it took to earn your forgiveness.

And once you reached closure, you were talking as if the past had never happened and he had always been there.

Your father looked at you and sighed - contentedly. He shook his head, all sullen when he stated, “You’re a woman now.”

You quipped, “And you’re an old man.”

Your father chuckled. He was adapting to your humor very quickly. Perhaps there was a reason why.

After a moment, he asked curiously, “That boy outside your boyfriend?”

“His name’s Johnny,” you smiled, teary-eyed, then confessed, “You should meet him some day.”

“Do you love him?”

There was not a bout of reluctance. “So much.”

“Then, I will.”

You beamed.

There was no holding you back, no reason not to say it proudly anymore. Johnny was yours and you were his. His heart would always belong to you and yours to him. That was the way it was supposed to be. Meant to be.

And some day, your Dad would be walking you down the aisle to the man of your dreams.

#johnny smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #johnny suh x reader #nct imagines #johnny imagines #johnny suh smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios

[topichoon]

All Mine - Sim Jaeyun

Genre: smut, angst, and friends to lovers trope

Pairing: bestfriend!jake x fem!reader

Warnings: pet names, oral sex (f and m receiving), traditional sex, face fucking, hair pulling, drinking, jake is a bit jealous, curse words, jake says whore and slut to the reader, but only like once or twice, more…?

A/N: I got inspo from the song “All Mine” by PLAZA for the title. So I kinda based the story off of the vibes i got from the song ig?

“Guys we’re gonna be late!” Yunjin yells from down the hall.

I finish putting on my silk black dress on. Which hugs my curves perfectly and makes my ass look good. But can’t forget about my tits, they are practically pouring out of the top.

I haven’t seen my childhood best friend in forever. It’s been about 4 years since I’ve seen him. Jake. I obviously want to impress him because the last time he saw me…let’s just say I looked rough.

I take one final deep breath looking in the full length mirror, my ysl heels topped with my painted toe nails. Along with my fresh acrylic set I got done yesterday, the sparkling gems looking expensive just like me. My long silky smooth hair freshly curled.

I make my way downstairs to the front door where my friends are waiting. I watch there’s eyes widen and smiles brighten when they notice me.

“Damn! Girl you are not playing around tonight!” Sakura says shocked looking me up and down.

“It’s cause Jake’s gonna be there~” Kazuha mumbles but loud enough for all of us to hear.

My pupils dilate just from hearing his name. I wonder how he looks like now, the last time I saw him he was honestly pretty shy and innocent.

“I knew you had a reason to be looking this sexy tonight. Even though you do every day but especially tonight.” Chaewon giggles while smirking to herself.

I blush slightly the heat on my cheeks burning my skin. We all walk outside to the limo parked out front. I sit down on the squishy seat putting my bag to the side. Yunjin almost immediately grabs a pack of sour gummy worms which makes us all laugh.

“Ayy don’t judge me! These things are too good to not eat right away.” She playfully rolls her eyes at us.

We all laugh together in unison. I take out my phone to see a text notification pop up. It’s Jake. I lick my lips anxiously and open up the message.

Jakey 😛: Hey Y/nnnie! I can’t believe I’m gonna finally see you tonight after all that time. I still got my matching bracelet on from when we were young.

Me: Jakey hi! Omg same it’s been forever! Awww so do I! But what if you’re lying send a pic for proof😡

Jakey 😛: hmm fine *1 attachment*

WHAT THE FUCK! When did he get this attractive??!

Jakey 😛: gonna keep admiring me or are you gonna send a pic for proof as well?

Me: nahh I’m not sending one you’ll see me at the party anywaysss. Gotta keep it a suprise can’t make you get a boner before the party even starts

Jakey 😛: oh whatever y/nnieee you’re probably wet just looking at that picture of me. I know it :)

Well he wasn’t wrong…but what is wrong is us talking like this. I mean we’ve had conversations like this when we were younger and more rebellious. But we aren’t even that close anymore so I don’t know what his intentions are.

Me: yaaaaaa, no. I’m most definitely not 👎 nice try though jakey

Jakey 😛: whatever makes you sleep at night 😇

Me: 😒 you’re no fun. Well I’m almost at the party so bye byeeee

Jakey 😛: bye y/nnie 😉

The limo pulls up to Heeseung’s mansion filled with a bunch of people partying. We all get out and take in the atmosphere. Walking through the front door we all get greeted by the Lee Heeseung.

“Hey ladies thanks for showing up. Oh y/n is that you?” Heeseung looks at me almost as if he is observing me.

“Yep that’s me.” I nod slowly still unsure why he asked me that.

“Damn,” Heeseung bites his lip looking me up at down “well Jake was waiting for you inside. He’s one lucky fucker that’s for sure, to have such a hot girlfriend like you.” Heeseung smirks.

“Oh we aren’t dat-“ I say before I get cut off by someone standing behind me.

“Yeah I am very lucky. Now please leave my girlfriend alone, thank you.” Jake says in a low tone.

Heeseung quickly walks the other way while me and Jake walk through the front door together. My friends already finding men to chat it up with. While on our way in I look at Jake.

“Why did you say that we were dating?” I question him curiously.

“Y/n. He is a pervert and I wouldn’t want him taking advantage of you. Especially not here, he isn’t a good guy to be around.” He sighs still keeping his firm grip around my waist.

I nod slowly still taking in all of this information. I remember heeseung during grade 8, the last year before I had to transfer to a different school. He was a goody two shoes, never let any girl cross his path. Too school focused maybe all that studying finally broke him.

Jake and I make our way to the dance floor where he finally loosens his grip on me. Now I take the time to really soak him up. His brown eyes feeling as if they are burning right through my skin. His soft fluffy hair that I so wish I could run my hair through right now. But can’t since my hands are trapped between our bodies. Finally, his lips. I always had wondered how they would be like to kiss.

They are so plush, soft, and smooth. Would he be a soft or aggressive kisser? Oh how I wish I could see for myself. I’m not quite sure if he ever has got around, but from his looks I would assume he definitely has. How could he not have girls practically drooling over him. I mean I have only been with him for about a couple minutes and my self respect is already long gone.

“My eyes are up here y/n~” he smirks and points up to his eyes.

Although his eyes weren’t the same as they were when I previously had looked at them. They were full of lust and need, but I can’t quite make out who they are for. Could it be for me? It can’t possibly be for me, I’m not even half as pretty as the girls from his school.

Jake travels his hands around my body. Along with his eyes, moving wherever but landing on a particular spot. My boobs. I decide to tease him just like he did.

“My eyes are up here Sim~” I say in a mocking tone. Although Jake just laughs deeply.

“Well my eyes don’t wanna go up there, I think they like where they are right now.” He teases right back.

But this time I don’t even know what to say back. This was not the same Jake I knew before I left. He’s no longer shy or innocent, he’s confident and way far from innocent.

“Cat got your tongue?” He finally moves his eyes up to mine and locks his gaze onto mine. Eyes so sharp I swear they could cut glass.

I decide to not say anything and test the waters a little bit, because if he can tease then I can too. I bring his hand up more so now it’s resting on my tit. Looking up into his eyes with my doe ones.

Instead of him being disgusted he enjoys it. Squeezing onto the flesh softly just to get a reaction out of me.

“You’ve matured a lot y/n,” he admires my whole body slowly, taking time to look at every inch of me. “and your face..so beautiful and gorgeous.” He looks up at my face.

I feel my cheeks burning up which I can guarantee is visible to Jake. I just hope the bright strobe lights don’t make it obvious on my face. We stay like this for a few minutes bodies so close together, no room even for air to come through. Our arms tangled, mine in his hair while his rest on all different places of me body.

My friends and his walk up to us. Making it clear that they have had their fair share of drinks tonight. “Guysss let’s play spin the bottleeee!” Jay tries to yell but his voice gives out at the end.

We agree and all walk over to the floor in the open living room. We all sit down gathering around an open and empty beer bottle. Sunghoon to my left and Jake to my right.

“Alright I’ll spin first.” Sunghoon announces. Spinning the bottle it of course lands on me. My eyes widen and I curl my lips anxiously.

“Make out with her on your lap!” Kazuha screamed.

Sunghoon makes eye contact with me and immediately smirks. Patting down on his thighs for me to get on top of him. I move over settling my whole weight on him.

He grabs my face and brings me in. Placing his lips on mine and kissing very aggressively, that is basically too aggressive to the point where it’s uncomfortable. I kiss back trying to match the same rhythm.

What I don’t notice is next to me sits a jealous Jake watching with anger. His fists clenched together tightly. He can barely watch he is getting too worked up. It’s not even his girlfriend but yet he feels extremely jealous.

“Okay times up.” Jake glares at Sunghoon still kissing me.

I get myself off of him a little too soon. “Was the kiss that bad y/n?” Yunjin asks me confused.

“Huh? Oh n-no it was good…really good.” I lie but everyone but Jake believes it. Jake is super good at seeing right through me. He smirks to himself at the fact that he knows for sure I didn’t enjoy it.

We do a few more rounds before it comes to the end. There is one more round left and it is Jake’s turn. He spins the bottle and surprise it lands on….me. He turns to me with a proud look on his face.

“You know how about we spice things up a little bit. Jake and Y/n 20 minutes in heaven.” Kazuha insists.

“Kazuha what? Isn’t it 7 minutes in heaven, not 20??” Sakura asks a little confused.

“Yes it is. Buttttt, 7 minutes is not enough time to get it all on so we need to give them more time.” Kazuha says with a sly grin on her face.

She signals Jake and I off and so we do. He is quick to put my hand into his, leading us upstairs to one of the guest bedrooms in Heeseung’s huge house.

We make it up to the room and he shuts the door behind me locking the handle. He mumbles a quick fuck before sitting back down on the bed. He rolls his head back and groans. I look at him confused why all of a sudden he would make such a sound.

He sees he got my attention and smirks. “Look at what you did to me. I had to deal with this the whole night Y/n.” He points at his hard groin. The fabric becoming to tight on him it feels like his cock is going to explode.

Instead of replying I walk up to him getting on top of him, straddling his lap and leaning in closer. Closing any gap that we have to be as close as humanly possible. I press my lips against his and he almost immediately kisses back. Our lips moving perfectly together not too slow and not too fast. Just right, the two of us together. Like two puzzle pieces connected at last.

He doesn’t waste no time before forcing his tongue into my mouth. Letting him take the lead sneakily move my hands to the buttons on his suit. Working as fast as I can to unbutton every single one. I finally get the last button done with and slide his shirt off throwing it onto the ground.

“Such a needy girl, aren’t you?” He pulls away looking at his shirt already off. I nod desperately which turns him on even more. He’s never seen this side of me ever which makes him excited to see what else he’ll get to see of me tonight.

“Lay back.” I demand trying to sound forceful but say it with a whine instead.

He doesn’t waste no time before following what I said. He puts his hands behind his head, his eyes following to see what I’m going to do. The excitement sparks behind his eyes, but also filled with tons of curiosity.

I trace my tongue along his abs. Swirling it around every ab. His body tenses from the wetness of my tongue moving all over him. I unbutton his pants and lower down his boxers, to reveal a hard, thick, and long cock that springs right out slapping against his stomach. My mouth waters at the sight. I pepper kisses all along the tip and swirl my tongue along it.

Before taking it in, I’m not even halfway there before I start gagging from his size. “Doing so good f’me y/n..” he whines out. I open my mouth wider to take more of him.

“Yeah that’s it— take all of me baby.” Jake groans out loudly. His words make me wet and unbearably horny. I start bobbing my head up and down on his dick. I finally take all of him making him let out a lot of whines and groans.

“Oh fuck, don’t stop..” he pants out heavily. His body tightens and he breaths even heavier. “F-fuck I’m close baby” he starts thrusting himself into my mouth.

His thrusts get more aggressive, signaling me he’s close. “Just like that— I’m so close” he manages to get out.

And just like that he comes all in my mouth. “Mhm, swallow it y/nnie~” he rasped. I do as he says taking it all down in one go.

He sits up and unzips my dress. Pulling it over my head and starts peppering kisses all along my chest area. Yeah he’s a boob guy for sure. I watch him as he looks at me as if I’m a literal goddess. His long fingers unclasping my bra as quickly as possible.

Taking in one of my tits in his mouth. Desperately sucking on it like the needy boy he is, and always will be.

“Bet sunghoon would never make you feel this good.” Jake mumbles leaving marks all along my breasts.

“Why, are you jealous jakey?” I smirk looking at him.

“Oh, y/n, you know you shouldn’t tease me.” He warns me looking at me as well.

I giggle as I watch him go over to my other tit to give it attention as well. Sucking so hard it’s sure to leave marks the next day. He plays with my other nipple with his fingers.

I moan and pull his hair harder as he reaches his hand down into my panties. “I would be quiet if I were you, don’t want everyone to know how much of a slut you are.” His eyes and tone dark.

I try using his hand to get off but he quickly catches on. “Such a whore, using my hand to make yourself cum. Be patient and I’ll give it to you baby.” He assures and plays with my clit. Rubbing it in slow circles.

“F-faster, please…” I whine out to him rolling my head back. He goes faster and I moan digging my ankles into his back. He slips in a finger pumping in and out of my core.

“Fuck baby— you’re so tight.” He puts in another finger making sure to stretch me out enough to make him fit.

He plunges his fingers at a fast rhythm. As I feel my high approaching I grip onto his hair harder while driving my feet deeper into his back.

“I-im gonna cum..don’t stop..” I beg breathing heavily.

“You can do it, cum for me y/n.” He now looks into my eyes while thrusting his fingers as deep as they can go.

Seeing him with those innocent puppy eyes while his fingers are far inside me makes me go insane. He continues pounding inside me until I finally reach my climax.

“F-fuck…I’m coming!!” I cry out. Fat tears rolling down my face as he helps me ride out my high.

“Such a good girl f’me..” he whispers in my ear slow and seductively.

He picks me up and places me underneath him. Now I’m facing him on top of his cock. I run his cock against my pussy feeling the pleasure. He grabs my hips and lifts me up slightly lining me up with his cock.

“Do you want me to wear a condom?” He asks me with concern. I shake my head which makes his eyes widen.

“I’m on the pill, I’ll be fine jakey.” I reassure him quickly. He exhales and smiles at me.

“You see…I’ve never had sex before..” he admits shyly. Oh so he is still shy..cute.

“Wait really? I thought you did..” I giggle at my misunderstanding.

He shakes his head “nope I was waiting for the right person, which is you.” He smirks all of a sudden his shyness going away.

I slowly slide myself down onto his cock. Making sure to relax and take deep breaths to ease the pain. His thickness stretching me out greatly.

He makes sure to say encouraging words to help me take my mind off of everything “doing so good y/n” “yeah— that’s it” and “fuck..keep going”

“Oh f-fuck,” he whines out now that I’ve fully taken him “you’re so tight f’me” he pants out.

I take my time and rock my hips forwards and backwards keeping a steady pace. As I get used to the uncomfortable feeling it quickly goes away as the pleasure increases.

“I’m ready..” I pant heavily. He smirks and grips my hips tighter speeding my pace up.

I ride him harder as I get more familiar with this feeling. The room filled with the both of our whines and moans. I bounce myself up and down his large cock which drives him over the edge.

As my legs start getting tired he notices and is quick to flip my underneath him. He groans sliding himself as deep as he possibly can. His cock thrusting into me slowly making sure I still feel comfortable, before starting to understand my body more and goes harder.

His cock pounding in and out of me at a merciless rhythm. His size stretching my tight little pussy out, it’s almost as if I was made for his cock. His balls slapping hard against my ass as he continues plunging into my damp gummy walls.

“I’m s-so..so close jakey!” I whine out to him between moans.

“Oh yeah? So am I let’s cum together..on the count of 5..” he rasps not letting down his pace one bit.

Jake fucks into me hard but the pain is so good. “5…” he whispers to me. His fingers digging deep into my hips bouncing me on and off his dick.

“4” Jake breaths shakily clearly struggling with this countdown. I roll my hips and squeeze my eyes together from the pleasure.

“That’s it…3..” he growls looking at my current fucked out figure. “We’re so close y/n..just a few more seconds..” Jake coos.

“Good girl— 2..” he groans the feeling overwhelming him quickly.

“1.” He smirks finally spreading his seed deep inside of me.

I cum undone all over his fat cock. He slides out slowly to make sure it won’t hurt. “You did it y/n~ so good for me..” Jake grabs my cheek with his hand. Wiping away my tears with his thumb, smiling to himself coming to realization of what just happened.

“Here I’ll be back, I’m gonna clean you up.” Jake goes over to the bathroom wetting down a towel and bringing it back to the bed. Where I am currently lying down out of breath. He wipes softly on my sensitive spots cleaning all over my body. Making sure I am thoroughly clean.

“You’re so gorgeous y/n.” He looks into my eyes purely. I whisper a soft “thank you” as he puts the towel to the side. Jake helps me put my dress back on along with any jewelry that had fallen off. He also buttons up his shirt and buckles his belt back on.

He comes closer to me and wraps his arms around my frame. Jake brings his lips to mine for a soft and slow but yet passionate kiss. He runs his hands along my body exploring more, as if he hadn’t seen it all before. All before we hear a loud knock on the guest bedroom door.

“Who is it?” I ask quite startled from this sudden knock.

“It’s Yunjin. The party just ended, and just to let you know, it’s been well over 20 minutes now guys.” She laughs so loudly that I’m sure the neighbors can even hear. Jake chuckles to himself looking at the time, seeing that we had spent way longer than expected. But the time was used well.

@topichoon ── do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or take any of my work.

#topichoon #enhypen #enha #jake enhypen #jake enha #jake smut #jake angst #jake enhypen smut #lee heeseung #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #park sunghoon #heeseung #jay #Jake #sunghoon #jaeyun fluff #enhypen jaeyun #jaeyun x reader #jaeyun imagines #enha jaeyun #jaeyun scenarios #jaeyun angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen smut #kpop enhypen #kpop angst #kpop enha #kpop smut #kpop bg

[dreamauri]

Whens the next part of My love all mine coming out?🤭

┇𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 - part six ┇ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ ┇arranged marriage does not always hold ┇the outcome you expect !! ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊   ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max vertsappen  x  wife! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( angst / fluff )  ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠song — ( link ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠word count — ( - ) ╰  🌿 :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( previous | next )

“It’s so fluffy.” Max whispers, nuzzling his nose in your hair. You chuckle slightly, shuffling further back into his lap to get comfortable. The dutch, wrapped his arms around your waist to remove the space between your back in his chest. Max leaned his chin on your shoulder watching with you the tiktoks you scroll through.

You find yourself holding in a laugh when the video of drunk Max and Daniel on a plane. Max finds himself gasping, taking your phone and looking at it in disbelief. “How long–” “That's been there forever.” you tease taking your phone from him.

You press on the search bar, type drunk max verstappen to show him all the clips people have seen, including that one time he and Charles were calling each other from on a cruise ship.

“Ah, young love.” You tease him. Max gives you a deep frown and a confused face. “Me and Charles?” “There’s a whole hashtag dedicated to you guys.” You tease, scrolling through a bit more, you come across a video of you and max drunk sway dancing from the after parties from the monaco gp. You knew some girls were doing something. “I liked that dress.” Max nuzzles in your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. 

“You got me that dress, remember?” “Yeah, that’s why I like it.” He smiled widely and you felt yourself laugh, melting in his hold. You liked loved moments like these. Just you and your husband, sitting on a balcony under the moonlight.

You wish everyday could be like this, peaceful and calm, just comfortable nights for you and your husband. But you always have to remember that Max Verstappen was a world renowned sportsman. He spends his weekends driving and weekdays training.

And even when nothing was going on, there were still people in the media who wanted to bite you. Looking through the comments was a mistake. You sighed reading how people said they could treat Max so much better or just picked on your mistakes.

“What’s this shit?” Max grumbles, scrolling through the comments. There was a pattern. People were nice to him, praising him, complimenting him. Telling him how he was such a good husband. On the other hand, others were commenting on how you weren't enough for him. How he could do and how much he deserves so much better.

“I don’t think these people understand I’ve been . . . what’s the world? Simping? Crushing on you since high school.” You held a giggle at the statement. He took your phone from you, starting to report every hateful comment. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his determination. “You don't have to do that.” “Shhh, wifey. It’s fun.” “Sorry, hubby.” You gave him a soft kiss before he was standing up.

You went to get a glass of the lemonade you and Max had made earlier when you heard your phone ring. “It’s your mom.” He shouted through the hotel room before answering. “Hallo, mum. Het Max.” [hi, mom. it’s max.] He greeted her over the phone. You couldn’t hear what your mom said in return but Max laid back in his arms with a big pout. “Het is voor jou, liefje.” [is your mom, love] Max held the phone out for you. You chuckled, taking a sip from the lemonade and going to sit back outside with him.

“Hi mum.” You greeted her by putting the call on speaker. “Y/N, ik wil dat je met mij mee luistert. Ik kan zo ver niet met je leven en ik ga het niet langer volhouden dan dit.” [Y/N, i want you hear with me. I can't live with you this far and I'm not going to last longer than this] You found yourself freezing in your place. Tilting your head confused. “vergeet de verstappen. scheid dat kind en kom naar huis. Ik wil niet dat k wil je niet zo ver weg.“ [forget the verstappens. divorce that kid and come home. i dont want you so far from me]

Max snapped his head up, and you choked on your drink. Divorce? Your mom’s tone was harsh and mad. “Eh? scheiding? Dat wil ik niet. Ik boek wel een vlucht erheen, maar alles komt goed. je overdrijft.” [Eh? Divorce? I don't want that. I'll book a flight there, but everything will be fine. you are exaggerating] You ended the call before she could protest. 

A moment of silence evaded the space, a once warm space was now cold. You didn’t dare speak, you knew Max was looking at you to see what you’d do next. You shook your head, holding your legs and looking down at your phone. “I-i don't want to divorce.” You told him finally looking up to meet his eyes. Max relaxed at your reassurance, nodding quickly as he sat up properly facing. “I don't either.” He held your hand kissing your knuckles. “I’ll book you a flight right away.” He said standing up.

“Wait, Max.” You stood after him, stopping. “I don’t wanna go.” You found yourself admitting, a deep sigh leaving your throat. Max was the door of escape from your family. They’d always put pressure on you to be some perfect academic person. Graduating high school with honours and valedictory. You gave up on being normal when university came around. 

It was only when you married Max were you able to pick up a paint brush again. When Jos had approached you and your family about his son wanting your hand in marriage you took it right away. An escape. You didn’t know him, so marrying him was a risk. But if you never took that risk, you would’ve never found yourself living your life like you are now.

“It’s your mom and family.” He told you, turning to you confused, looking down at his phone for flights. “You’re my family.” You replied without even thinking.

The blond snapped his head up, taken aback by your words. “I don’t want to go back there. I don’t want to leave you— Correction, I don't want to be without you.” 

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"There you are." Your mother hummed happily once you pushed the door open. She opened her arms and you immediately went for her embrace, wrapping your arms around her back with your head on her chest. "Awh, look at you." The woman cooed, stroking your hair and kissing your head.

Max always had an odd feeling about the woman, From the moment she first saw him, till now she always give him this disgusted glare. "And I see you've brought your husband too." The words were bitter in her mouth. "I thought it was clear I wanted just you."

"Well," You looked back at the blond. "I don't know how to drive, and Me and Max we're together. So, yeah." There was a long pause, long eye contact between you and Max. "He doesn't love you." Your mother whispered in your ear, cupping her hand over her lips so max wouldn't hear or see.

"Don't be naïve, sunflower. He's after your looks." She stroked your hair. Max could see your eyebrows furrow weather in disbelief or in betrayal. "Your a trophy. If he really loved you, he'd come a whisk you off your feet. Make you fall in love with him and ask for your hand in marriage himself."

Your heart panged against your chest. She had a good point. If Max really loved you, why did he do the things the way he did. Why did you have to pick yourself up at the airport and let yourself into the apartment, and clean it up yourself? Why did you not have a choice to see if you loved him before marrying him? Why did he pluck you out of the life you already had?

"He's not good for you." Your mom whispered, her manipulative words getting through to you. "He's using you. He likes your body, your face, your image. Come to mummy, i wont hurt you, yeah? I'll keep you safe."

You jumped up on your feet clearing your throat. Max immediately noticed the shaky and hesitant body language you displayed. Fidgeting with your fingers and tapping the top of your toes on the floor.

"We should probably go, visiting hours are going to end soon." He stood up tall, gently wrapping his arm around your shoulder to comfort you. Max was surly surprised to see you flinch, and even more angry to see the deceiving gentle smile your mother gave hi. "Hours start at 12:30 tomorrow. Don't be late." She said.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Max found himself tracing the lines to the glass painting on your window. The hospital wasn't far from your mom's house which had your old tween room before your parents divorced. The faded purple walls with scenery painting on them with stickers and posters.

"They're pretty," He hummed. "We should try these out on our windows back home." He turned to you, pointing at the window. His body felt still once he caught your fear filled eyes. He gulped, moving over to you, sitting on his knees beside you.

"I don't know what your mother is telling you. But I love you. No matter what." Max held your hands in his, pressing a soft kiss to your fingers. "You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me and I'd never change anything about you or us."

You looked in his ocean eyes, too big for his head yet so beautiful for his own good. The second you looked away Max knew your mother was in favour at the moment. He knew that old narcissistic woman had won the moment you had slept with your back facing him. You never looked away from him.

And the sight or your sleeping figure facing away from him made him feel as if his heart was being ripped apart slowly and painfully. He was scared to even touch you. Max would never ever risk making you feel uncomfortable.

This would be your last night under the moon light together.

#‧˚⊹🪴 ଓ :: 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 ‧₊˚⤾ #max verstappen #max #mv1 #mv33 #max x reader #max x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen imagine #formula racing #formula 1 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #f1 fic #formula one x reader

[miley1442111]

back to chicago part 2- c.berzatto

a/n: part 2!!! i imagined a fem reader and it's mentioned quite a few times but as usual, imagine what you like. SET AFTER SEASON 2

summary: a double date with your boyfriend at the Bear can only go well, right?

pairings: carmenberzatto x femreader (complicated relationship), platonicthe bear x reader, romantic oc x reader

warnings: general angst, mentions of mikeys death, breaking up, bad family relationships, etc.

PART 1

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You

Dinner was delicious. The conversation was good and you had almost pushed the drama of earlier out of your head. You’d stayed till close to continue the talking and only now you were packing up. 

“Bug!” Richie called after you as you put on your coat. “You guys wanna have a look at the kitchen?”

John and Emilia nodded and you obliged them as Adrian sighed, squeezing your hand with his own. 

“Sounds good Rich,” You agreed and Adrian helped you remove your coat, then put a hand around your waist, holding you close. 

“Why do I have a feeling this will end in tears?” Adrian whispered and you shrugged.

“Nothing we can do about it now.”

You got the tour of the kitchen and truly, it was impressive. It was beautiful and clean, and you got to see everyone else. Marcus, Tina, Ebraheim, Neil, and Sweeps. You met Sydney, she seemed nice but reserved. 

“This is your boy?” Tina smirked and you nodded. “He’s pretty.” 

Adrian chuckled and smiled at her, “Thank you.”

Then it came to Carmy. He smiled at you as your friends introduced themselves, then wrapped you up in a ‘bear’ hug. It shocked you, yet you reciprocated all the same. 

“We have some catching up to do,” he said once you pulled away. “You guys are welcome back here anytime.” 

You stared at Carmen, his arm around your waist, making this choice for you. Richie led John and Emilia through the rest of the kitchen, out of earshot from your conversation.

“I should really go back with Adrian, I’m tired-” You started but Carmen cut you off. 

“It’ll only be a little while, you should stay,” He smirked as Adrian’s jaw ticked. 

“Yeah, you should,” Adrian said, ‘challenging’ Carmen. You rolled your eyes. 

“Carmen, if you only plan on comparing dicks with my boyfriend right now, count me the fuck out. You said it yourself, we never dated. Now, if you’d genuinely like to catch up with me I’d be happy to get coffee tomorrow, but right now- I’m fucking tired. Goodnight Carmen.” 

Carmen looked down, clearly embarrassed. “Coffee tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, I’ll come by at 10. Goodnight,” You left his hold on your waist and grabbed Adrian’s hand, stalking out of the restaurant.  

“Well he’s a delight,” Adrian sighed, squeezing your hand. 

“Yeah,” you sighed. 

“I don’t want you to go see him tomorrow,” Adrian admitted, pulling you aside. You chuckled, thinking he was joking. He was never one to be possessive in any way or ask you not to wear or do things. His glaze hardened and your laughter died down. 

“You’re serious?”

“Yes I’m serious! He’s a dick! You don’t owe him anything!” He whined. 

“He’s practically family,” You said matter-of-factly and dropped his hand. 

“Oh and look at how great the rest of your family is!” He snarked, then his face dropped as you felt the stab of deep hurt he’d just caused. “Baby, I-I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Fuck you. We’re done.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Carmen 

I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t. Not when I knew I was seeing you the next day. I had gotten to the Bear nice and early to do all my lunchtime prep so if our coffee dat- thing went overtime I wouldn’t be chewed out by Richie.

“Cousin!” Richie shouted. 

“What?!” I shouted back, sweat coating my palms as I wrote down recipes and anticipated your arrival. 

“Bugs here! Come on!” 

It was 10:02. You were technically 2 minutes late. I got up and out of my office, grabbed my coat and sped to the front of the restaurant, almost tripping myself in the process. And there you stood. Angelic as ever. I had made an effort with my appearance that day, thank god. A cream sweater I’d bought in New York, dark jeans I knew you’d appreciate since you knew about jeans, and I’d washed my hair this morning and put in some products Sugar had gotten me for Christmas, though I’d already sweated it out by 10:02.

“Hey,” I smiled. 

“Hey,” You sighed, clearly more sombre than I was hoping. 

This was going to be difficult. “You alright?” I asked as we walked outside. 

“Great,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your words. “Wonderful even.”

“What happened?” He asked, trying to hold back from the question that wanted to fall out of his mouth so badly. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you laughed, but it was humourless. 

“Doesn’t have anything to do with that guy then?” I had asked and you had glared at me. I sent my cheeky smile to the floor and held up my hands in surrender. “Just askin’.”

“Yeah, don’t,” We both laughed that time. It felt good. It felt normal. Everything felt right for the first time in years. 

“Seriously, what is his deal?”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You

“You mean my boyfriend?” you smirked, not telling him you’d broken up. It was quite the rash decision, something you weren’t used to. 

“Yeah,” he shrugged. 

“Well, he’s an accountant, we met at a jazz club a few years ago,” you explained. 

“Anything else?”

“He’s nice?” you smiled. “He’s reliable.”

“Oh, so you don’t like him,” Carmen smirked and you scoffed. 

“Fuck off,” you jested. “It’s complicated.” 

“How? The dude is obsessed with you,” he shrugged. “What makes that complicated?”

“The fact that I broke up with him last night,” You admitted, rolling your eyes when Carmen looked at you with a wide-eyed expression. “Do not flatter yourself Carmen. He was being shitty.” 

“That’s not what I was saying,” Carmen half-lied. “I just… I’m surprised.”

“I’ll probably go back later and apologise, and we’ll kiss and make up as usual.”

“This happens regularly?”

“No,” you admitted. “But he does do shitty things sometimes, then apologises.”

“Shitty like what?”

“Stuff like…” you didn’t want to tell him. “Look it doesn’t matter, all that matters is us right now,” You smiled at him. “Tell me about the Bear.”

“That shithole?” he joked and it finally made you laugh. 

“Yes, that shithole.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

After two hours of catching up with Carmy, you started walking him back to the Bear. 

“When are you heading back to New York?” he asked.

“Soon, I guess? I do have clients to get back to but… I don’t know. I love Chicago.”

“You should stick around,” Carmy smiled. “You brighten up the place.”

“I don’t know if my back will survive staying at hotels for too much longer,” you chuckled. 

“Stay at mine,” he offered immediately. 

“You’re sure?” You asked, shocked at his level of generosity.

“Of course. I missed you. I’ve always missed you.” 

You stared at him for a moment, standing outside of the Bear. You weren’t used to this level of emotion from him. “I missed you too, Bear.”

He pulled you into a quick hug and you kissed his cheek, then walked on, much more to think about than before. 

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff

[thethreeeyed-raven]

Hi !!! First I wanna say that I love the aesthetic of ur account it’s so pretty and nicely put together I’m obsessed. Second, I was wondering if I could request something for a Legolas x half elf reader where the reader is very like, unladylike, and doesn’t follow elven traditions ?? Like she’s very brash, flirts with lots of people, drinks a lot, doesn’t really have any of that elegance or poise that he’s used to when it comes to eleven girls and is a extremely good fighter. She’s a trusted friend of Gandalf and he brings her to the council of Elrond and she joins the fellowship and all dat.

Ok I’m done sorry if that’s too detailed feel free to not write it if you don’t want to, don’t want you to feel pressured to jus cause I asked 😅

i think you are beautiful

navigation | warnings : gimlis a little bitch, a little bit of angst? a little bit of gimli/dwarf slander😭 | a/n : if this isn’t what you want then i’m sorry😭, also of the elvish is wrong PLEASE LMK i literally used an sindarin, i kind of forgot about the flirty part and half elf part, but it’s mentioned a little bit, i asp used british slang for ‘hello’ IM BRITISH | lotr masterlist | tags : @knight-of-flowerss @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom

Legolas hadn't expected to see you at Elrond's secret meeting.

He didn't even know you knew Gandalf. Well, he didn't know much about you at all really. Of course, Legolas has seen you before, with the adventures he went on with Aragorn and what not, he was hardly ever seen around Lothlórien, and he was sure you were too.

But when you entered the circle of middle-earth creatures with your eccentric aura and manly stance, he thought of you intriguing.

"Another bloody elf?!" Gimli explained in disgust.

Legolas turned to the dwarf seated beside him, opening his mouth ready to throw a remark back when you interrupted.

"Well you are in the Rivendell, dwarf. If you are willing to help with the destruction of the ring, you must watch your tongue, before I cut it out." You threw him a smirk, and watched as Gimli shrunk back in his seat.

"Y/n! I've been expecting you for quite some time." Gandalf made his way over and enveloped you into a hug, which you reciprocated.

"You did show up in the middle of nowhere when I was trying to fish, you owe me a pint, don't forget."

You patted his back and made you way over to an empty chair, which was ironically beside Legolas.

"Oreyt there Legolas?" You patted his shoulder and look towards Elrond. "Let's get on with it then!"

It had been about a week since you and the fellowship had attended Elrond's secret council meeting, and since then, you hadn't really bonded with anyone like everyone else had, though you thoroughly enjoyed flirting.

You knew Aragorn already had his heart set on Arwen, Gimli couldn't stand you (you found it funny to rile him up).

Legolas was your favourite to tease.

He wasn't used to your heavy drinking, swordsmanship, the way your eyes glistened in the moonlight...

You weren't at all what he had thought.

You had a kind heart. And your beauty went beyond those of the other elven women.

And Gimli made sure to point out that you were different.

"Are you sure you're not a man?"

You turned around to look at him, holding back a frown.

"Wait, you're not a man?" Pippin chimed in, finally causing the frown to appear and you started to walk ahead of Gandalf. "Did I say something wrong?"

Nearly an hour later, you all had found a place to rest, yet you didn't talk throughout the whole way through.

Legolas and Aragorn were relieving themselves of their weapons when Legolas peered over at you who stood in the far corner away from everyone else, but near enough for you to hear him insult Gimli.

"I norn na- an imbecile." He placed his arrows next to his bow and Aragorn turned to look at him.

"Whui ceri- cin eithad Gimli? Does ha gar- something na ceri- with ui/n?" Aragorn questioned him.

"-o iór ha does! How berth- ho ask hen such a nad! At least with ammen galadrim mín know what mín are!"

Gimli looked up at Boromir who wasn't paying any mind to the rather loud conversation they were having.

"What are the elf and the man speaking about?"

Boromir just shrugged. "I don't know, I don't speak Sindarin.

You, having understood their conversation, smiled a little to yourself, happy that at least someone here would defend you.

You sat quietly beside a lake, inspecting the flora surrounding you, when you heard footsteps.

You swung your body round, placing your hand on the blade strapped to your leg.

The sound revealed itself to be Legolas. "There you are, Gandalf sent me to make sure you weren't missing."

You nodded and motioned him to sit next to you.

"You were being rather loud with Aragorn earlier." You chuckled as you watched a red tint spread across Legolas' cheeks. "Thank you."

Legolas nodded in acknowledgment and he was about to stand up when you grabbed ahold of his hand.

Your hand was rough, no doubt from the countless weapons you have wielded or practised with.

"Legolas, do you think I'm pretty?"

He was taken aback by your sudden question.

Since you were little you had struggled with femininity. Your hobbies were 'un-ladylike', your looks were considered to be 'manly'.

The silence was too loud, too long. So you took that as a no.

"I think you are beautiful. And I think you're too good for anyone here." He sat back down next to you. "Not only are your combat skills exceptional, but the way you carry yourself outshines any of the elvish women. They can't compete."

You moved closer, until your pinky was touching his.

"I may not know you that well, I've hardly ever seen you around Rivendell or any of the elven parts for that matter, and quite frankly, I couldn't care less if you were half elf, or half dwarf, or half whatever. I've still admired you from afar-"

You shut him up with a quick kiss to his lips.

Aragorn watched further away from the bushes, shaking his head with a grin, then going to tell Gandalf that you were safe.

"Im like cin verui limb legolas, a im gar- admired cin o palan too."

ELVISH TRANSLATION

‘I norn na- an imbecile’ - the dwarf is an imbecile

‘Whui ceri- cin eithad Gimli?’ - why do you insult Gimli?

‘Does ha gar- something na ceri- with ui/n?’ - does it have something to do with Y/n?

‘-o iór ha does! How berth- ho ask hen such a nad! At least with ammen galadrim mín know what mín are!’ - of course it does! how dare he ask her such a thing! at least with us elves we know what we are!

‘Im like cin verui limb legolas, a im gar- admired cin o palan too’ - i like you very much legolas, and i have admired you from afar too

#lotr x y/n #lotr x reader #lotr fanfic #lotr x you #lotr elves #lotr fandom #lotr #lotr imagine #lord of the rings #legolas #legolas x y/n #legolas x reader #legolas x you #legolas greenleaf #legolas greenleaf x reader #orlando bloom

[oreoov]

☆ - 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐂 '𝐒 . .ᐟ

xiao x gn!reader ♡

wc ; 824 / fluff & angst (kazuha ver)

honestly he would be pretty shocked when you confessed to him , i mean you???? love him???

(yes you had to confess first cuz hes too much of a pussy to say it himself)

very shy when you guys started dating , he doesn't know how to act at all !!

i mean how could he not stutter when your pretty self keeps saying he's all cute and dat

hes super thankful if you make him almond tofu , and would probably share some with you ( he would never share with anyone else , only you)

when you're around he always follows you around like a lost puppy !

very jealous :(

when you're around some guy or laughing with him he definitely gets jealous (especially if the dude is rlly tall or something)

its not like you're not allowed to talk with him its just that he gets so insecure and starts doubting his skills as a lover :((((

the way he communicates and makes you laugh so easily just destroyed his self confidence

he literally has a notebook filled with ideas of different topics to talk you with , and he doesn't know what to do when he runs out of ideas lol

and when he gets jealous he probably avoided you , and when you confronted him about it he felt even more guilty cuz u didn't even do anything wrong :(

ofc he trusts you but his insecurities just get the better of him

often thinks that maybe you're just better off with someone else rather than someone like him :/

he often thinks he doesn't deserve you

reassuring him that you only want and love him definitely calms him down , but probably starts doing the same thing again after a while

so make sure you reassure him a lot once in a while !!

he wants to hug you , but hes scared hes gonna make you feel uncomfortable or anything

so when you hug him first he definitely got rlly flustered but now he wants to do it again and again

and when you kissed him for the first time , he literally just stared at you when you pulled away. like what is he supposed to say now ??? all this is just so new to him

but he definitely enjoyed it and wouldn't mind if you did it again hehe

when he feels like you aren't talking to him as much as you usually do , he definitely overthinks about it and thought he did something wrong to upset you :(

after some thinking he finally decided to text you "r u mad at me?" or "did i do something wrong?"

in reality you were just busy and had to explain to him that you're not mad at him and he never did anything wrong

likes to say sorry to you even if he didn't do anything (hes just rlly scared you'll get mad and leave him at one point)

literally stares at you at random times and looks away when you finally look back at him

i feel like he would be that one emo hot nerd (cuz of this fanart) , so he would gladly teach you any subject you're struggling with !!

he finds you so cute when you start whining to him that you understand nothing lol

always so proud of you when you get good grades on your test

he likes to scold you whenever your being so reckless about your health , i mean how could he not?

buys you your favorite snacks whenever hes at the market , he also memorizes your favorite menu whenever he comes to your favorite restaurant

he isn't a great talker , but hes a good listener so he always listens to all your rants and gossips , he loves hearing your voice

has an photo album on his phone specifically for you

always listens to the playlist that you made for him !

likes all your post ; instagram , tiktok , twitter , anywhere rlly

he also keeps all your gifts that you made for him , he mostly displays them on his room cuz they remind him of you

he loves your attention so much but hes too shy to ask for it so you'll have to notice the little hints he gives you

"you're the best so you deserve the best" is what xiao thinks all the timeee

tells you that you can always call him whenever you need him

idk man hes just a simp 4 u and his friends probably tease him about it cuz of how different he acts whenever your around (hes such a tsundere)

would probably beat up someone ass if they ever say something offensive to you , how dare they do such a thing??

he loves you with all his heart , and you're his number one priority !!

#genshin fluff #genshin impact #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #xiao fluff #xiao #xiao angst #adeptus xiao #xiao x gn reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact xiao #genshin xiao #alatus #xiao headcanons #headcanon #genshin headcanons

[rerefundslocals]

drunk on lust j.jk [part 2]

Summary : drinking night with your best friend spills the truth upon secrets within you both.

>>pairing : jungkook x fem!reader

>>trope : best friends to lovers

>>genre : smut, fluff(angst in part 1 )

>>word count : 2.2k

>>warnings/tags : Dom!jungkook, sub!reader, daddy kink, oral(m recieves), unprotected sex, backshots, choking, hair pulling,spanking(jungkook lobes ass), fingering,dirty talk, petnames, overstimulation, squirting(Dat million dollar pu$$y), aftercare

a/n : so uhm here's part two to drunkonlust , have fun reading and lmk what ya thinking! Mwah :)

~★~

"I do."

His lips take yours and the kiss is rather soft and intimate at first, as Jungkooks arms wrap around your waist, his tattooed arm caressing your ass through your leggings.

The kiss is now rushed and sloppy, both your tongues encasing one another in a spitting clash and moans being let off into each other's mouths.

Jungkook kisses you harder and harder making it hard for you to breathe and you tug at his hair with your hand that's encased around his neck to signal him to break the kiss.

And he does. You both lovingly stare into each other's eyes when he pulls away, breathing on your mouths, lips pulled into a shy smile on yours and a threatening smirk on his.

"Tell me what you want." He whispers.

That alone brings you to your knees. You slide your hands down his chest seductively, your hands making a trail down to his tech pants and when you reach his waist line, you're fully on your knees. Doe eyes staring into his very own siren and horny eyes.

"I want this." You murmur, slowly rubbing his hard cock through his pants.

He chuckles, "did you ask for it?" You shake your head.

"Be a good girl and ask for it."

His words make you weak literally as you swallow the lump in your throat, his dominant demeanor making your legs ache.

"May I please have it? May I please suck your cock, daddy?" You ask coyly. Making sure to have a shy smile.

Jungkook visibly shivers at the petname. He didn't even know he had a daddy kink, but he guesses there's a lot he'll learn about himself with you.

"Go on, baby. Suck me dry." Given the go, your mouth moves closer as you give him kissed through his pants, rubbing his bulge to get him worked up.

Your fingers pull down his pants at a very slow pace, while your eyes stare up at him, a submissive look talking over your features.

Jungkook himself looks very uptight and frustrated and your mouth on his dick is what might just make him blow his load down your throat.

You finally put all your teasing at bay, removing his pants completely. Calvin Klein briefs along.

His dick long and thick, with precum at the tip slaps you in the mouth, as if it knows exactly where it's to go.

You stiffen at the sight and slowly bring your tongue up to swipe his sensitive tip, making him react, "Fuck!" He mewls.

You continously make teasing licks, licking around his cock, rubbing the base in your hand.

After a series of teasing, you finally take him whole into your mouth, never wasting time with the sucking. Your pace is fast and the gagging sounds make Jungkook moan and groan into the room along with dirty words.

"You like this shit? Like sucking cock, huh, Angel?" The petname is nothing compared to the position you're in right now, but Jungkook loves it too much to call you anything else.

You moan around his dick as a way to answer his question, the stickiness in your leggings getting worse.

Jungkook brings his tattooed hand to grab your hair and push you further onto his cock, your hand that was rubbing his base, limply falling to your thighs as Jungkook gets rougher, thrusting upward into your throat.

"Take this shit, baby. You like when I fuck your mouth? Like it when daddy uses your mouth?" He breathes out.

You hum at his question, hoping he would let off but his thrusts are only sharper and quicker. Oh how you wonder how that would feel inside of you.

His breath is ragged and fast, his cock simultaneously twitching in your mouth, as your tongue rubs him up and down. The feeling earning a tighter grip on your hair from Jungkook and he's cumming down your throat.

"H-holy fucking shit!" He let's out. A that frustration finally let down.

He looks down at you when you're licking off his cum.

It's tasty you think. Might wanna have it everyday.

"Such a pretty slut aren't you?" He pets your head, like a puppy and you nod at him, licking off his cum. "Yes, daddy."

He shivers at that. Leabjng down to grab you from the floor and lips meeting yours for a sloppy kiss, his hands on your ass, kneading your flesh.

"Mmhm, baby deserves a treat, doesn't she?" He asks, mouth nibbling at your neck.

"Yes please, daddy." You whine.

"That's a good girl."

He pushes you on the bed, hands coming up to remove your leggings swiftly and going up to remove your shirt.

You're braless as expected and Jungkook is enhanced by your pretty tits laying all spread for him, and he leans forward taking the erect bud into his mouth, moaning around it.

"O-oh Jungkook.. so good." Your back instinctively arches so you can get Jungkook to suck you even more. The feeling undescribable.

Jungkook moves to the other tit, sucking and licking at it while his other hand fondled with the other so they both receive attention.

The feeling makes your legs spread at their own accord, your thong no longer helping to keep your wetness all in as a trail makes its way down your thighs.

"Jungkook..p-please..." You whine, feeling very needy, finding his tit show uninteresting while your thongs soak up.

Jungkook finally leans up, and takes off his track jacket. Shirtless, his abs poke at you as you stare at the toned sight, feeling eager to lick them up.

"Is that how you ask, baby?' He says, face incredible closely to yours as he teasingly licks over his lips, tongue piercing taunting you.

Leading his hand to your clothed pussy, he instinctively rubs over you, making your back arch further into his hand. "Just like that, daddy." You moan, the name throwing Jungkook off once again as he rubs you faster to allow your moans to fall into the room.

The feeling in your stomach is unbearable. A sign that you'd be cumming very soon as the knot in your tummy coils tighter and tighter. Jungkook doing nothing but adding to that pressure as he riles you up by kissing hickeys on your neck, fingers fucking into your tight pussy, two of his tattooed fingers coaxing your release as his hand is inside your thong.

"I-im gonna cum, daddy!" You scream out, the intense feeling taking over you as you cum all over his fingers.

Your body feels numb at the feeling, almost the best orgasm in your life. The bestest would be around his cock.

"Mm, look so pretty when you cum."The compliment makes you feel all fuzzy inside,especially coming from Jungkook.

When you lean down to take off your thing completely, a hand encases your wrist.

"Did you ask me to do that? Why are being such a devil?" He hums against your neck, sucking hard at your spot and you moan at the feeling, your voice getting lost to even talk.

Jungkook never let's up and allows you to take off your thong, he wants to hear you say and the feeling in your pussy is desperately coaxing you to ask like a good girl. "Please, daddy- can you take it off and fuck me?" You pout. "Pretty please..." followed with a whine.

Jungkook let's out the most devilish chuckle ever, as he gets off the bed, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. Fully naked for you to take in.

You're then being roughly turned onto your front, your back facing Jungkook.

He lifts your waist up higher with one hand and you do the rest, arching your back for him.

His finger curls around the material of the thong and he pulls it off of you with your help.

Your lips meet for a brief kiss, when Jungkook leans forward. His hard cock proding at your creamy hole.

"Since you asked so nicely, angel. Daddy's gonna give you what you want, okay?" You nod at him, ass swaying side to side as a sign for him to put it in and Jungkook licks his lips at the sight, the meat of your ass enhancing him in a daze.

Letting his intrusive thoughts win, a slap is laid on your ass and two more followed after that, making you moan at the sting.

His dick is now lined up at your dripping hole and precum leaks at his tip as he slowly enters the warmth of your pussy and you suck him in, moaning at the new stretch.

"O-oh fuck!" You moan out.

Jungkook starts thrusting and they are slow and teasing. Though as slow as they are, they are hard and the impact is the sound of his lower abdomen meeting your ass and his balls smacking against your swollen clit.

"Fuck, you're so tight! Is it for me, Angel?" He hums, his head thrown back as he loses himself in the pleasure and you respond with broken whines. "Y-yes, d-daddy. All for yo-!" His hips snap against yours as he now picks up his pace making you lose your words as you loudly moan his name into the room.

"Argh- shit. Pussy so good. Made for me, isn't it?" Unable to respond to him verbally, you only moan in response, pushing your ass further, so his cock goes even deeper.

You're being spanked once again as his thrusts never die down and you're starved for that orgasm so your fingers quickly reach your clit for that release.

"Deeper, p-please." Tears are now at your lash line, threatening to fall.

Dick is just that good.

Jungkook mumbles something about your 'bad behavior', but really you're too busy chasing your orgasm to worry about his words.

He slows down now, purposely thrusting at his initial slow pace, hips roughly colliding with yours. "Be a good girl, Baby. And I'm gonna give you the world, okay?"

"Yes, daddy." Anything to cum on his cock at this point.

His tattooed hand comes up to the back of your neck and Jungkook squeezes hardly at the same time his thrusts pick up. Hard. Fast. Deep. And mind-blowing.

Your ass jiggles at the impact and being enhanced once again, jungkook uses his free hand to smack you once again, never letting up his tattooed hand on your neck but only squeezing harder.

"Oh- shit! M' cumming, daddy!" The knot in your stomach only coils tighter and that's your cue to let him know.

The breathing the room is picked up as Jungkook looks down between your bodies, the white ring of cream at the base of his cock making him roll his eyes at the back of his head, moaning like a mad man at the sinful sight.

"Such a creamy pussy, isn't it? Fuck! You're a fucking Gem." He moans. "And ask me to fucking cum." He demands.

You feel it in your toes as you scream into the room, a mantra of begging. "Please, please, please, Daddy! C-can I please cum all over your cock?" You look back at him with pleading eyes. Your makeup and hair sticking to your face, a wonderful and submissive sight to Jungkook.

"Cum, angel. Make a mess on daddy's cock." He never let's down now, and by the time he gives you permission, you're cumming all over his cock."fu-ck Jungkook!" Your thighs are now shaking as he chases his own high.

"Mmh fuck! I'm gonna cum." His hand tighter around your neck as he yanks you upward so your back meets his chest and he leans down for a messy kiss of tongue and teeth clashing, never once stopping to thrust into your hole.

"Cum inside me." You want it all. You wanna milk him dry as you look up at him, both your mouths open as you moan. Almost a song playing in the room as jungkook let's out groans and you high pitched whines, your hand coming up to remove his hair from his forehead.

"O-oh, Kook-!" Next thing you know, you're squirting all over the sheets,at the same time Jungkook releases the white sticky substance into the depths of your pussy, his tattooed hand squeezing at your jaw while he looks into your eyes, moaning at the release."Holy fuck."

Slumped you falk onto the bed when Jungkook let's go of your Jaw.

"Creamer and a squirter. Damn." Jungkook chuckles.

"And you with the daddy kink." You tease.

A slap is laid upon your ass, a playful one at that. "Hey, I didn't know I had that."

You both laugh at that, jungkook laid besides you, arms lovingly wrapped around your shoulder. Your head on his heaving chest.

"I love you, beautiful." He murmurs, sweet eyes staring into your tired ones.

Snuggling closer into him, you lay a kiss on his chest and look up into his eyes. "I love you, too."

The night would end that way if jungkook allowed yoy to sleep on the soaking bed.

"C'mon, baby. Get up and get some panties on, we can't sleep here."

You pitifully whine as you slump tiredly, "but m' tired. Don't wanna walk!"

"I'll do everything for you, just lift your legs, baby." Panties in his hand, now dressed in some sweats, Jungkook slides the thong on you, and drapes his t-shirt over your body.

"Good girl." He picks you up, and you snuggle into his neck, legs wrapped around his waist. He has the blanket jn his hand and lays your bodies on the couch, wrapping you both in a warm ball after your tired night.

"I want pancakes tomorrow." You mumble against his chest.

"Anything for you." As promised, you both had stacks of pancakes the next morning.

~★~

Don't copy my work. I'll find you.

#bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts #bts army #bts fanfic #jungkook #smut #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #jeongguk #jeon #btswritersclub #bts writing #bangtan net #bangtangsonyeondan #jk bts #jk angst #best friends #to lovers #bts smau #jungkook smut #bts jeongguk #jeon jungguk #jeon jungkoooook #namjoon smut

[farfromstrange]

Do No Harm

CHAPTER EIGHT: First-Date Jitters

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: It's time for your date with the beautiful stranger from the hospital, and you are beyond nervous. Still, you're already in too deep to pull out now, so, you jump into the cold water and learn how to swim.

Warnings for this chapter: Angst, comfort, some first-date cliché behavior, mentions of domestic violence (in thought), foreshadowing (?), flirting, physical contact, suggestive language (slightly), Matt's charisma uniqueness nerve and talent

Word Count: 5.3k

A/n: This flirty little shit won't leave my mind. Anyway, my plan was for this chapter to be one continuous chapter, but it got so long that I had to cut it into 2 parts (or this beast would have been 10k words). That’s why you’re getting a double update today. I tried not to put too much angst into this. It's still angsty, but there is a lot of comfort for the angst and the hurt to compensate for it, and I think that's beautiful. I don’t know about the writing though.

Read Chapter 8: First Date Jitters here on AO3

Many questions naturally come to mind when one is preparing for a date. How will you get there? Who will pay? What could you possibly talk about that has a high chance of boring neither of you? The question you find yourself grappling with the most though is, what the fuck are you supposed to wear?

After spending years trapped in a cage, your self-confidence took quite a hit. You used to feel somewhat satisfied with the way you looked, but John always had something to criticize. Your weight, your hair, your facial features—nothing was ever good enough for him. After breaking down your walls and making you believe that you were the best thing that ever happened to him, he knew how to manipulate you best. At least he looked at you. You were grasping at straws, holding onto the vision of a man who was never real, and you forgot your worth along the way. 

“Wear that dress you borrowed from me and never gave back,” Claire says on the other end of the line. 

You sigh. You have been staring at your closet for an hour now, and you haven’t come further than picking out what underwear to wear. With shaky fingers, you reach for the dress. You know exactly which one she meant. 

“Are you sure I should wear a dress?” you ask. “I mean, it’s kinda cold outside.”

“That’s why they invented tights and over-knee socks. Oh, and maybe wear those heart-shaped earrings I got you for your birthday. They look good on you.”

You scan the dress with careful eyes. You’ve barely slept after getting home, and now your head is pounding. Earlier, you sent Matt a text, confirming the time and place for the umpteenth time, but as half-past two is inching closer on the clock, the unease is starting to creep deeper into your bones. 

You promised Claire not to cancel, but that doesn’t take away the fear and the sheer agony you feel inside when you think about all the things that could go wrong. Alone the thought of facing Matt’s gorgeous smile in a different setting than the hospital sends a shiver down your spine, and it’s not fully pleasant. 

But no. You swore you wouldn’t give John what he wants, and he surely would be punching the air if he knew that you couldn’t stop thinking about him. He would celebrate if he knew that you just can’t seem to get over what he did to you. Then again, if he knew where you are now, the only thing getting punched would be you. He might even kill you. God knows he’s capable of unspeakable things.

His name is too prominent in your mind: his face, his voice, his scent. You need to drown him out. You need to stop making everything about him. It isn’t healthy. And Claire was right when she told you that it’s a good thing another man—a good man, at that—is making you feel things you long couldn’t because you were too scared to allow yourself to feel even the slightest hint of affection. 

You have to honor your promise to yourself and see where this date might take you. Matt is gentle. He won’t mind if you’re a little nervous. Hell, he won’t even mind if you wear a pair of sweatpants instead of this stupid dress, but you can’t deny that you still want to put yourself together and appear in something other than a pair of medical scrubs.

The dress you borrowed from Claire is a good fit for your skin tone and body type, you can’t deny that. It has turned heads before. You wore it to one of the fundraising campaigns Metro General sometimes hosts—it was summer then, a lot warmer than it is now, and you were toying around with the kids that came with their parents in Central Park. You were in charge of the games that day. One of the firefighters complimented you, but he was respectful about it, and his partner even asked you for a drink, but you declined both of them. They weren’t your type, although they were nice. It’s a fond memory that momentarily eases your anxiety. 

Matt is nice, and he’s your type. You know he’s your type even after years of unlearning what your type even used to be. It’s not a coincidence that the two of you got along so well when you first met, and that he cared so much the other day when you got hurt. 

Fuck. You realize you’re going to need to cover your nose with concealer. Not because Matt would care—he surely wouldn’t—but you don’t want to be looked at weirdly by the barista of your favorite coffee shop. That would be embarrassing.

“Liv?” Claire’s voice breaks through your downward spiral. 

You snap out of it, throwing the dress on the bed. “Yeah, I’m here,” you mumble, working at your pajamas that you still haven’t changed out of. “I’m wearing the dress.” There is a certainty in your voice that surprises you. 

You want to wear this dress. You want to go out with Matt. And you want to turn his head, even if you can’t do it with your looks. Looks are hardly all that matters, anyway. You have to remind yourself that he sees your mind, hears your voice, and has a different view of your soul than others. That’s what matters. That is all that should matter. You just have to make sure that you smell good or he will probably be appalled, considering blindness comes with heightened senses. If only you knew how heightened they truly are. 

Your friend lets out a happy little, “HA!”

You shake your head, putting her on speaker, and changing out of your pajamas into the dress. You only have a handful of tights in your closet, and not a single pair of over-knee socks, but a pair of tights and your favorite boots should do the trick. 

“Trust me,” Claire says, “one look at you in that dress, you’re gonna turn that guy’s head.” She sniffles, and you wonder how much longer she is going to torture herself with that cat. 

“I’m not so sure my looks are going to matter much,” you say. 

“Most people say looks don’t matter to them, but unless you solely fall in love with another person’s mind, looks will always play a part in how we perceive someone.”

“No, I meant that quite literally.” You pull the dress over your head. “I’m only dressing up to feel good about myself ‘cause looks definitely don’t matter to him.”

“How can you be sure?” she retorts. 

You slip into a fresh pair of tights, some socks, and a pair of biking shorts underneath. “Did I not mention Matt’s blind?”

Silence follows your sentence. A pregnant pause. You said it so nonchalantly, you didn’t think anything of it. And why would you? It’s a part of him. It’s not unimportant—definitely not, considering that life works differently for him than it does for you—but it’s also not the only thing about him. 

“Blind?” Claire’s voice is slightly shaky when she asks.

You frown at your phone screen while slipping into your favorite boots. “Yes, blind,” you say. “Although we didn’t get around to discussing his condition. I mean, medically, there is probably nothing I haven’t seen or heard before. I just didn’t think of asking him, “Hey, how’d it happen? Is it complete blindness? Amaurosis? Congenital?” Even I know that it’s not appropriate to ask someone you just met about their medical history. It’s something he has to want to talk about, not the other way around. I don’t expect full disclosure from a stranger like I do from my patients. And we both know dating a patient would be highly unethical.”

“I—” she cuts herself off. 

One look at the time tells you that you’re already running late. If you want to catch your bus, you have to leave in the next five minutes. You slide the last of your heart-shaped earrings into your earlobe.

“Listen, Claire, if that’s all you have to say, I should go. I can’t miss my bus,” you say. 

Her behavior may strike you as odd, but your mind is currently preoccupied with other things. You can’t pay much mind to the tone of her voice or the pronunciation of her words, or there is a chance you might not make it to your coffee date after all because you will be stuck in another downward spiral of overthinking. 

She exhales. “I—okay, yeah. I’m sorry. It’s probably nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she agrees. “Go. Have fun. Just… be careful.”

The way she says it makes the hairs on your arms stand up. “I will.” Your eyebrows still furrowed in a frown. “I’ll call you later.”

The line clicks when you hang up, trying not to let the absurdity of the situation get to you. You have plans, and you have to stick to them. 

With a swift shake of your head, you touch up your hair and makeup, assuring that the discoloration of your bruised nose looks less severe than it is before you grab your coat, your bag, and your phone, and you make your way out. 

You’re not overdressed, but you still feel like you’re standing out of the crowd when you get on the bus. The bus driver pays no attention to you, and neither do the other passengers, but somehow all eyes are still on you. Maybe you should have gone for a pair of jeans instead? A longer dress? A shorter dress? Less cleavage? Maybe something a little less tight? A sweater would have worked nicely too, you’re sure. What if you get off at the next stop, hurry back to change, and arrive a little later than planned? 

Matt probably won’t be on time either. He wanted to meet up half an hour later. That sounds like the kind of guy who needs a little more time, someone who struggles to be on time. Or maybe he’s the complete opposite of the picture you painted of him in your mind, and Claire’s reaction has something to do with it. It makes no sense—it absolutely makes no fucking sense, and you should stop worrying about things that don’t make any fucking sense whatsoever, but you can’t. You are physically incapable of stopping the spiral on your own. 

Time stops when you overthink, and it’s only when more people start leaving the bus that you realize you have long missed the chance to get out, run back home, and change. You’re almost in the city, almost where your favorite coffee shop is located that you suggested to him and he agreed on, and there is no going back from here. 

You don’t know where to put your hands. They’re shaking. Your heart is beating out of your chest. The sweat in your pores is threatening to drip down your temples, it feels like, and you’re starting to worry whether or not he will be able to smell how nervous you are. Your stomach is in knots. You can’t swallow the lump in your throat because it has lodged itself between your esophagus and your larynx. It’s too much—too loud, too hot, too everything. You just want to turn around and run. You want to disappear into the ground, melt into a puddle, and stay there. 

When you look up toward the entrance of the coffee shop, he’s standing there. He’s on time. No, he’s early. The clock on your phone reads 2:28 pm. You wouldn’t have expected him to be so punctual. It scares you.

Your brain starts to secrete even more cortisol—should you run or should you fight? Fight might be the wrong word to use. It is more of a 'should you or should you not face a situation your inner demons don't want to face' dilemma.

The sudden wave of anxiety that washes over you mixes with a strange sizzling of excitement and a certain warmth that starts to build in your core. The feeling is much stranger than what you’re used to, and it makes you vibrate. Or at least it feels like you’re vibrating. Levitating. Dying. Maybe you’re having a heart attack.

Don’t be ridiculous, you think to yourself. You’re a doctor. You’re not having a heart attack. What you’re sure of though is that, if you start breathing even shallower, you will get a panic attack.

He looks good. Too good. His suit fits him perfectly. You wonder how much he spends to get his suits tailored so that he can breathe and move around freely, and still look fucking dashing whenever he sets foot outside. For someone who does mostly pro-bono work, he knows how to dress himself. 

Matt is standing away from the many people crossing the sidewalk. He’s supporting himself on his cane, his red round glasses framing his sharp features perfectly. He has the kind of cheeks you just want to squeeze, yet his jawline is sharp enough to cut yourself on it. He hasn’t shaved in a few days, so his stubble is a lot more prominent. The locks on his head seem so soft, and he keeps the rest of him clean, too—you wouldn’t expect anything less from someone who has heightened senses due to the lack of one of the most crucial ones.

The way his muscles tense under his suit catches your attention. Your breath hitches again, and this time not because you’re nervous and worried out of your mind. His biceps are straining against the sleeves of his coat, and it seems like his chiseled chest is about to pop the buttons of his dress shirt, but it still fits perfectly enough to keep every sliver of skin hidden from the world. 

Taking a deep breath, you close the distance between you. “Matt?” your voice cracks when you call his name.

He tilts his head in your direction. It doesn’t even take him a full second, nor does he pretend that he has trouble making you out of the sea of people. He probably has done this quite a few times. You can’t blame him. He’s an attractive man. 

You wonder what would happen if he was yours. Women would still want him, and you would have to have faith. You wouldn’t consider yourself an overly jealous person, but the thought of having to compete makes your stomach churn. You feel so far out of his league that it doesn’t even cross your mind that you would be his as much as he would be yours, and it is no relationship if you feel like you have to compete with other women.

A part of you believes that he is the kind of man to pay undivided attention to the person he cares about, but who is to say that you are worth his attention? Who’s to say that he wouldn’t run at the first chance to be with someone less damaged, someone who’s beautiful in a different way, and someone who can give him peace instead of whatever mess you can offer him. 

But then he smiles at you, and your worries are momentarily forgotten. 

“Liv, hi,” he says. You shudder at the smooth sound of his voice. His hand reaches out, but he misses your arm. A slight frown finds its way onto his face as if he’s thinking to himself, ‘I’m usually better than this.’

You take a step closer. He finally gets a hold of your forearm. “I hope it’s you I’m touching and not some stranger with similarly soft forearms.”

Soft. He just called you soft. You have never been called that before. The giggle that escapes you makes you wonder where you left your brain this morning. 

The left side has turned itself off entirely, leaving the right side of your brain in charge. This is the worst idea you’ve ever had. You’re already a mess. How are you supposed to survive the afternoon with him and only him? It feels like he’s staring right into your soul, which is impossible, but the glasses don’t give you insight into beautiful brown eyes, and that makes you wonder how he does it. How does he stare you down without actually staring you down?

You clear your throat. “No, it is me,” you answer. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says again. The grin doesn’t leave his lips. He lets go of your arm, seemingly having oriented himself.

“Hi,” is all you can say. You miss his touch. It wasn’t even—or at least not mostly—because he wanted to touch you. He did it because there are so many people around you and he needed to know where exactly you stand. You can only imagine the anxiety that he’s feeling.

His smile turns into a smirk. “Hi.” He’s not making this easier on you. “How are you?” Matt finally puts you out of your misery.

What is the appropriate thing to answer? Good? Nervous? That you feel like you’re dying from a heart attack? Or that you miss his hand on your soft forearm?

“I’m–” you take a deep breath. “I’m good,” you say. “How’re you?”

He nods. “I’m alright, thank you.”

Your eyes flick down to the hand on his cane. He has his head tilted in your direction, his attention entirely on you. He adjusts his glasses. His smile turns into a softer expression of concern, and it makes your heart jump.

“You seem nervous,” he observes. 

“I guess you could say that,” you admit. You can’t even stop the words before they tumble out of your mouth. “I don’t usually do this. You know, go on dates.”

“Really? Oh. I kind of figured men were lining up to get even a second of your attention, or trying to, at least.”

The blood rushes to your cheeks again. “Oh, I—No, they don’t do that.” Your head is spinning. 

You always appear unapproachable, or so you’ve heard. You don’t know if it’s the way you look at people or the way you behave. Perhaps they get scared that they will burn themselves on your burning defenses. You wouldn’t put it past them. You have pushed what little advances people have made on you in the past two years away because you were scared of burning yourself, and you weren’t interested in trying to mend that. With Matt, that’s different.

If men were lining up to be with you, your first response would surely be to flee, and not because of your personal issues with the opposite sex. You would flee out of natural instinct.

Matt clears his throat. “I’m terrible at getting hints. If I’m making you uncomfortable or you think you made the wrong choice by coming here, I wouldn’t blame you for leaving,” he says.

He’s giving you a choice—an out. That alone makes the blood in your cheeks spread faster, and your palms start sweating. You don’t want to go. 

“No,” you quickly shake your head. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

“Are you sure?”

You reach out, boldly so, and take his hand in yours. “Yes. Am I making you uncomfortable?” you ask. 

Matt swallows thickly. His Adam’s apple bops as he tries to get rid of the lump in his throat. His fingers twitch when you wrap your own around his and place them against your forearm again. If you look close enough, you might even see a soft sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

The silence persists for a few seconds. “No,” he answers then. “You simply have a way of, um...taking my breath away.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all.” He tightens his grip. His lips open, and he stammers for a moment before he finds his words again. “I find it refreshing. It’s not often I meet someone who can knock me off my feet, so…” Breaking off into a chuckle, Matt lowers his head to adjust his glasses once again.

The way he’s fidgeting with his fingers tells you that you’re not the only nervous one out of the two of you. Maybe the fact that you render him speechless affects him more than he lets on. He seems like the kind of guy who likes to be in control because he feels like he has to be or the world might end. You know that feeling all too well.

It would be so much easier if he wasn’t so charming, but if it were easy and he wasn’t so charming, you would still feel utterly alone in this life. New beginnings are supposed to feel better than an unhappy ending. New beginnings are supposed to offer a chance at happiness, and even though you are a little late with trying to find your way back to civilization after keeping yourself locked in a cage of someone else’s making for so long, there is a chance now. A chance that you have to take. 

The easy way out would be to turn around and forget you ever met him, but Matt deserves better, and so do you. The easy way out would hurt too much.

You lick your lips absentmindedly. He sucks in a sharp breath. You’re a lot more sensitive to the behavior of others than a normal person would be. Is he attracted to you? Do you turn him on? Those are questions that make your head spin worse than it has been ever since you laid eyes on him.

“I’m sorry,” you break the awkward silence, your voice breathless. “It seems like the feeling is mutual.”

Your confidence is starting to build, convincing you that you can do this. And maybe you can. You’re not leaving him cold, that much is sure when you take a moment to analyze his body language.

His thumb brushes over your forearm. He seems so much more experienced than you, and he keeps his composure in a way you can’t relate to. You are dying inside, and the blood is pumping in your cheeks while leaving the rest of your body cold. Except for your very core; you can feel the heat starting to spread through your core, shooting between your legs just from the way he touches you. 

You thought this would be an innocent coffee date—you were wrong. Your body is as desperate for a physical connection as your soul yearns for an emotional connection. It’s a strange combination of needs that hits you at once and with full force. And it is all directed at him. This guy you barely know but has turned your head every single time you have met him. 

You’re fucked.

Matt smirks, as though he knows something that you do not. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he murmurs. 

“The fact that you knocked me off my feet?” you ask dumbfounded. You’re glad he can’t see your face because that would be utterly embarrassing. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “that.”

You want to scream, 'God, you’re hot,' but you would rather not embarrass yourself in front of him like that. His smirk makes it hard to focus, but if you don’t want to spend the rest of the afternoon on the sidewalk, staring at him while he holds onto your forearm, one of you has to start moving.

“Do you want to go inside?” you ask.

“Yeah. Lead the way,” he says. 

You gently slide his hand from your forearm into your own. You wish you could see his eyes right now. Are those beautiful hazel eyes with emerald specks in them sparkling? You saw how expressive they were when you patched him up. They were unfocused and pained, but they also reminded you of an array of stars. It’s probably unintentional, but his eyes give away how he’s feeling at any given time, and that, to you, is one of the most beautiful qualities he could possess because it means that he’s real. He can’t lie because his eyes would give them away. 

His glasses don’t make Matt hard to read, but they sure make you miss the universe you got to stare into a few days ago. It felt like a privilege.

He keeps his cane pressed tightly to his chest, using the tip to check the small radius around him while he holds on tightly to your hand, trusting you to guide him where he needs to go without putting him at risk. 

“Door,” you tell him as you make your way into the café. You hold it open, and he uses his cane to make sure he doesn’t accidentally bump into you or the doorframe. 

Just as you’re about to enter, a couple comes at you. You twirl around, placing a hand on his waist and pulling him a bit closer to you before someone can bump into him. He raises his eyebrows. 

“Oh,” he exclaims when the couple apologizes for not looking, and he tilts his way back in your direction, Your hands are still on his waist, standing closer to you than ever before. His cheeks flush. Got him. “Thank you,” he stammers, but not without letting out a chuckle that resembles a small giggle. 

Your heart melts, and you damn Matt Murdock for not only being a walking wet dream but for being so kindhearted and adorable. And why does he smell so good?

“No problem,” you answer breathlessly.

“It helps that one of us isn’t blind, huh?”

It’s your turn to laugh. “It’s a big responsibility if you’re seeing for two, so I try to take it seriously.”

His giggle turns into a laugh that comes deep from his chest, but it still sounds like a soft symphony you might hear playing on a spring day. “Yeah,” Matt says, “You’re taking it very seriously.”

“I’d call myself your knight in shining armor, but I believe that comparison is outdated and wrong since you don’t need saving.”

“I wouldn't mind being saved by you.”

You open your mouth, but the only thing that comes out is a startled breath. “Okay, now you’re just trying to make me blush.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

He smirks. “I wouldn’t get anything out of making you blush, but I do enjoy hearing the smile in your voice whenever I compliment you. So, maybe that’s what I’m doing.”

“Oh.”

“Your smile sounds nice. Beautiful. It’s how I, uh, see you. And you’re calm. I—the world is often too loud, you know, and your voice is a welcome distraction from all the, uh, noise. Helps me relax. If you know what I mean.”

If he keeps talking, you are sure that you will pull him closer by his waist and kiss him. You can’t remember the last time you have felt a need quite like this one. And you have never wanted to kiss another human being more than him. Why? Just because he’s nice to you? No. He’s not just nice to you. You probably would have run by now if he were just nice to you. 

Matt is genuine, which seems to be his personality trait, and it makes you feel somewhat important again. Like you’re worthy of whatever it is he’s giving you, not constant pain and suffering. It’s strange and new, and it is still terrifying in a way, but once you let it happen, it’s a lot more gentle on your soul.

“Fuck me,” you curse under your breath. “We haven’t even sat down yet.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “No.”

“So, does that mean I can still buy you a coffee?”

“Now more than ever,” you blurt the first sentence that comes to mind. You look at him as if he is a rare species, and you’re painfully aware of that.

Can he read your mind? Whenever you look at him, it seems like he knows just what you’re going through. He tries to hide it, but it’s almost as if he’s already inside of you. Not in the way you want him to but in a way that makes you feel vulnerable, but you still would surrender all of you to him if he just asked. 

Your hands slip from his waist. 

“After you,” he says, grabbing a hold of your arm again.

“Right,” you mutter. “After me.”

The line isn’t long.  You get behind a few other people, Matt’s hand still tightly clasping your bicep. 

“I just realized that they don’t have a Braille option for the menu.” Your eyes dart around the room, but the only visible menu is the one hanging above the counter. 

You’ve been here more times than you can count, but you never actively paid attention to how accessible it all is—which is not at all. 

Matt chuckles beside you, his breath tickling your ear. “Read it to me,” he says. His voice is soft, quiet, and kept low so only you can hear him.

You shiver. Your lips suddenly feel drier than the desert. You won’t survive this day, you’re sure. He’s going to kill you.

“R-read it to you?” you stammer as if it is such an outlandish request. It isn’t. You just can’t process it properly, not when he’s so close to you and he smells like he does. 

He doesn’t have a strong, overwhelming scent. The cologne he’s wearing only has a slight whiff of sandalwood and nature, but it’s nothing too overwhelming. Of course, he must have a sensitive sense of smell as well. He probably uses scentless soap and shampoo, and the cologne he uses might even be the only scent he can stand. What you smell on him must be his natural scent. Clean, soft, warm—you’re obsessed with it. You’re addicted to it.

Matt nods again. “Yeah, read it to me,” he repeats.

“Okay–” you take a deep breath, and you begin to recite the options you already know by heart. Coffee, cold drinks, tea, lunch options, and snacks. 

He listens intently to what you have to say. “I think I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“Did you decide that now or did you know that from the beginning?”

“I may have already known,” he says with a smirk.

“Then why did you ask me to read it to you?”

“I like listening to your voice.”

When you suck in a sharp breath this time, you manage to conceal it better. “That’s cheesy,” you retort, trying to match the tone of his voice but failing miserably. Flirting over the phone proves to be much easier than in person, especially with a man like him. 

“Is it still cheesy if it’s the truth?” Matt asks.

You look at him, staring at your reflection in his glasses, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “The truth can be cheesy.”

“That’s true, but I made you smile. I’d consider my cheesiness successful.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

He chuckles. “Oh, don’t worry. It won’t. Can’t deny it makes me feel good though.”

You exhale again, even more shaky than the last time. All you can see is yourself in his reflection. Before you can answer, the couple in front of you finishes their order and moves on to the other end of the counter, allowing you to step forward.

“Hi,” you say to the barista behind the counter. “Could I get two regular lattes and two muffins, please?”

Matt smirks beside you, not at all fazed by your ignorance of his antics. If anything, it spurs him on further, and he tightens his grip on your arm. Deep down, you know that he is doing it on purpose, but at the first sign of you being uncomfortable, there is no doubt in your mind that he will stop. But you’re not uncomfortable; you’re merely flustered beyond relief. To him, that’s a good sign because it means that you’re in this and not with one foot out the door—and you wouldn’t want to be, anyway, which is much scarier than the prospect of turning around and remaining alone for the rest of your life. 

A bit of fear goes a long way, but there are still walls that he has to break through. Walls you won’t let him through so easily, but you also know you can’t keep him at an arm’s length forever. Eventually, the truth will come out, and you’re not quite sure how to deal with that revelation before your date has even taken off.

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson @atemydadforbreakfast @stevenknightmarc @zheezs14 @shouldbestudying41 @kiwwia-wiwwia @writtenbyred

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #daredevil x reader #reader insert #charlie cox #doctor!reader #do no harm

[bitchinbarzal]

i loved the angst! can we maybe get nico finally making up with the reader!?

“Momma’s so mad at you” Iris says as she climbs into Nico’s car from the school run.

Nico glares at her in the rear view mirror “Hi baby”

She smiles sweetly “Hi daddy, mommy’s mad at you”

“I know”

“She said I can’t go to the game on Saturday” Iris notes as she states out the window of the moving car.

“What do you mean? Why not?” Nico didn’t really intend to throw Iris into this but here he was.

She shrugs “We going to the island”

“Island? What island baby?”

“The long one” “Long Island?”

“Yep!”

“Do you know why?”

She nods “Mommy’s new boyfriend Mathew plays hockey too!”

Nico just about slammed the breaks on in his car.

“Have you met Mathew?” He’s watching her in the rear view mirror and she nods

“He come to the house the other day but mommy told him to wait outside until I was in bed”

Nico is seething. You were so too faced.

As soon as he gets to your house he opens the door and looks at you before saying “You’re such a hypocrite!”

You shake your head “Hello to you too! ‘Ris babygirl go start your homework”

As soon as she is out of earshot you look at him “what is your problem?!”

“You’re dating Mat Barzal and taking Ivy to the game instead of mine?” You can see he’s visibly angry.

“I’m dat- I’m not dating Mathew!”

“That’s not what Iris said”

“Well she’s obviously gotten her wires crossed! Mat hired me as personal PR and as a thank you invited myself and Iris to the game on Saturday but I wanted to check with you first and if not I’d ask Darya to take her with” you explained.

Nico felt small, he’d come into your house guns blazing and had shot him self in the foot.

“Oh…”

“Yeah oh!” You snapped “How dare you speak to me like that!”

She sighs “I’m sorry…”

“Nico-“

“No please, I’m just… I’m tired of fighting with you” he sighs softly “I broke up with Naomi and the teams just stressful right now, Lindy is on my ass and I’m trying to solve everyone else’s problems I don’t need one with you so please can you just accept my apology? I love You and I’m sorry I upset you”

he’s staring at you widely and you nod, opening your arms and he walks into them for a hug. Nico’s head rests on top of yours and your face is wedged into his chest.

“I missed you” he mumbled into your hair.

“Me too” you reply “wanna do movie night?”

As if nothing had happened you got the movie ready and popcorn before sitting down and calling Iris.

She come plodding down the stairs and smiles when she sees you cuddled on the couch, inviting her between you both.

“Mommy?”

“Yeah baby?”

“Are you still mad at daddy?”

You exchange funny glances with Nico before saying “No squish not anymore”

She nods “Good because daddy cried in bed and I felt sorry you shouted”

You stifle a laugh and Nico groans “If there’s one thing we can count on it’s that our daughter will rat us out”

#life of iris

[babydollmarauders]

BEGIN AGAIN — NICO HISCHIER

nico hischier x fem!reader

request: “Hi I have another request if that’s okay with you! It’s another Taylor inspired one of course. Could you do a fic with Nico inspired by Begin Again. The ex boyfriend in the song could be Trevor or some other hockey player to add some angst.”

summary: eight months after having her heart broken, y/n regains hope in love after meeting meeting Nico.

warnings: mentions of cheating

notes: this is one of my favorite Taylor songs and i got SO EXCITED when i saw this request! i wrote this with Mat Barzal in mind as the ex-boyfriend, just because i wanted to keep it as someone kinda close to the NJ area, but not another Devil, however i’m sorry if that upsets anyone. he’s only mentioned a couple of times, so if you wanna imagine him as another hockey player named “matt” you have full right to do so.

“it’s been eight months babe, maybe it’s time for you to get back out there.”

logically, i know Nicole is right, but the thought of dating again causes a shiver down my spine. i’ve had some of the worst luck with boyfriends, most recently my ex, Mat. after ten months of dating, in which my friends kept telling me he had too many red flags, i caught him in bed with a girl he used to tell me was like a sister to him. since we broke up eight months ago, i’ve given up on finding someone to spend my life with. but my friends haven’t fully accepted my disbelief in love, urging me to try again, and with how lonely i’ve been recently, i’m warming to the idea.

“you know, Jesper has a teammate i could set you up with. i think you guys would really hit it off. and think about how fun it would be to go to games together!” Nicole speaks again, breaking through my self-pity filled thoughts.

“i don’t know. i don’t know if i wanna date any more hockey players, Nic.” i take my eyes off my half painted toenails, looking at her from across the couch. “i’ve only had bad experiences with them. i think Matt was my tipping point.”

“give them one more chance! they’re not all like that. i think you would really click with this guy. just one date! and if you don’t have a good time then i won’t persist.”

“one date?” i ask.

“one date.” she confirms, i shrug and focus back on my toenails, finishing my painting.

“okay. one date.” i tell her. Nicole squeals and sets her own nail polish down on the coffee table, jumping up and doing a little happy dance. i let out a laugh and roll my eyes.

not too long after our conversation, there’s a knock on my apartment door and Nicole’s boyfriend walks in. i met Nicole about a week after i moved to New Jersey, two years ago. we first became quick friends after meeting at a bookstore and bonding over our love for mysteries. then when she started dating Jesper, he fit right in and our duo has become a trio. they soon moved in together a couple apartments down the hall from me and now it’s become a routine for her to hang out over here while he’s at practice and he comes to get her once he gets home.

Jesper greets me with a hello before kissing his girlfriend on the top of the head. Nicole beams up at him and i feel a twinge of envy settle in my heart. i love their love, and i can’t help that there’s a part of me that feels like i’ll never get that kind of connection with someone.

“babe! you’ll never believe what happened!” Nicole squeals.

“what?” he asks, amusement laced in his voice and a smile on his face.

“y/n agreed to let me set her up with Nico!” he chuckles and looks over at me. i give a dejected shrug and he shakes his head.

“always the little matchmaker.” he chides, amused, before he jokes. “well, come on, you meddler. let’s go back to our own apartment and let y/n/n wallow with her Taylor Swift in peace.”

“i resent that.” i pipe up. but he just raises an eyebrow at me and i sink farther into the couch. okay, so maybe he’s not far off. i do have a habit of cranking up some Red (Taylor’s Version) and getting wine drunk.

Nicole and Jesper leave, with her promising to text me about a date between me and this Nico guy.

and true to her word, i wake up the next morning with a text from Nicole.

From: Nicole

wednesday at noon! at the café down the street! here’s his number: Nico Hischier, (xxx) xxx-xxxx . HAVE FUN!

i have to admit, i admire her dedication.

**

wednesday morning came faster than i wanted it to, and i kept my expectations low, expecting the worst from this date, as usual.

i show up at the café at exactly noon, contradicting my usual early arrivals, as guys never actually show up on time. but when i step into the café, i’m surprised when a handsome brunette stands from a seat at a table towards the back and waves at me with a shy smile. i fail to bite back my own grin as i make my way over to him.

“Nico?” i ask, holding my hand out.

“that’s me.” he confirms, slipping his hand in mine to shake before we drop them and he pulls the other chair out, motioning for me to take a seat. once i’m seated, he takes his seat across from me. “you must be y/n?”

“that’s me.” i nod. “i am so sorry if Nicole forced you into this. i’m convinced the word ‘no’ isn’t in her vocabulary.”

he chuckles and shakes his head.

“no, no. she didn’t. actually, as soon as she told me about you, i asked her to set this up.” his words surprise me, i was under the impression that this was Nicole’s idea. i can’t stop the blood rushing to my cheeks, painting them red.

“oh, i didn’t know that.” i look down at my hands, fidgeting on the table in front of me. “well, uh, tell me about yourself, Nico. the only thing Nicole told me was that you play hockey with Jesper. and i think i’ve deduced from your accent that you’re… Swiss? i think i got that right, but i might actually be horrible at guessing accents.”

he laughs again and my butterflies erupt in my stomach. he has a gorgeous laugh.

“no, you’re right, i’m from Switzerland.” he nods, confirming my guess. “and as you said, i play for the Devils with Jesper. but besides that-”

he continues telling me about himself, and i’m leaned on my elbows, listening to him talk. for once, i’m genuinely interested to hear about the man sitting in front of me. when he asks about myself, i give him all the truths, not holding back from telling him about my interests and family. before i know it, it’s been two hours and Nico is walking me down the block to my car before he leaves for an afternoon practice. we’re walking in silence, and i ponder the idea of telling him about my ex. knowing it might be better to get it out in the air now. but then Nico starts back up our last discussion from in the café, about christmas traditions.

“we have a tradition of watching a movie called Drei Haselnüsse für Aschenbrödel, which i think in english is called Three Wishes for Cinderella. it started when my sister Nina was young.” i push my thoughts away and give him my full attention, engrossed in what he has to say. taking this as a sign to wait for that discussion.

when we arrive at my car, i’m pleasantly surprised that i don’t actually want to leave. unlocking my car, i open my door and throw my purse in on the passengers seat before turning back to Nico, who stands with a small smile on his face and his hands in his pockets.

“i, uh, i’d really love to see you again. if you’re up for that?” i say. his half smile turns into a grin and he nods.

“yeah, i’d like that a lot. maybe next time we can actually go out to dinner or another proper date outing. i’m sorry that today was just coffee.” he says and i shake my head.

“that sounds great but, don’t sell yourself short. i had a really nice time today. besides, i know hockey players don’t always have free schedules but, i really like you so i’ll take whatever i can get. even if it’s just a twenty minute date eating mcdonald’s.” i tell him, shrugging my shoulders as i lean against my car.

“let’s hope it doesn’t come to that!” he jokes, and i let my giggle slip out freely. he shifts his weight back and forth on his feet as we stand in silence for a second, just smiling at each other, content with ourselves. “i better get going, my car is back at the café. but is it okay if i text you? or better yet, call you?”

“i’d love that. but, wait, your car is back there? why did you walk me all the way over here then?” i laugh. “we could’ve parted ways back there! now i feel bad that you walked past your car just to walk with me.”

“i just didn’t want this to end yet.” he shrugs. “i’d do it again if i had the choice.”

his words make me blush and i look down at my feet.

“you text me, or call me, or hell, i’m sure Nicole will gladly tell you where i live. just, don’t ghost me.” i halfheartedly joke. he smiles one last time and shakes his head, starting to walk backwards away from my car.

“oh trust me, you’ve got me hooked now. you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” he calls out to me and i bark out a laugh and slide into the drivers seat, closing the door behind me.

god, i hope not.

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #faithlynn’s writings <3 #babydollmarauders #nj devils

[mattsbella]

“impossible” - matt sturniolo

୨୧ ₊˚•. ↳ pairings : matt sturniolo x almira gomez (fem!oc)

———— ୨୧ ₊˚•. ↳ warnings : angst, fluff, maybe smut…..?

୨୧ ₊˚•. ↳ summary :

ALMIRA GOMEZ had been a fan of the triplets ever since they started, coincidentally she also lived in boston, but in cambridge. she was posting on instagram once when the MATT STURNIOLO noticed her post, also posting pictures with the same caption. is it impossible for these two to get together?

chapter 002

“didint even say hi?”

messages, irl, instagram

i just realised i put the text after the post, but like bare w me.

—————

@mattspinkshirt

1/2 2/2

liked by matthew.sturniolo, shpk.naze and 78 more

mattspinkshirt when matthew tells u to go take a nap U FUCKING NAP.

@matthew.sturniolo You’re just really crazy

↳ mattspinkshirt brotha so obsessed he cant leave me alone

↳ @matthew.sturniolo True dat

↳ @mattspinkshirt NNONINONONONONONONO

nicolassturniolo You are honestly so pretty wHAT.

↳ mattspinkshirt NO SHUT UP U DIDINT JUST SAY THAT

@shpk.nazeera i literally said go to sleep 5 times before this

@user DAYUM SHES HOT

↳ @matthew.sturniolo 🙄🙄🙄

——————————————————————————

——— MESSAGES———

matt had successfully managed to get almiras number.

matt 😩👌

HELLLAOAAAOOOOOO

almira 😋

HEY HOEEEEE

wait how tf r we vibing so good rn……

matt 😩👌

Don’t know, but anyways how was your day?

almira 😋

it was nice, i did study alot tho, i still have to study and im currently eating dinner.

matt 😩👌

Oooo what are you eating?

almira 😋

dont get on my dick for this but pasta with ketchup..

matt 😩👌

HWAT

what

WHAT.

the fuck

did i just see

almira 😋

i know babe im sorry but im a ketchup kid 😔😔😔

matt 😩👌

You’re disgusting, but its like 2:35AM, why aren’t you asleep?

almira 😋

as i said, i need to study.

matt 😩👌

Go to sleep mira.

almira 😋

mira? thats new

matt 😩👌

It’s cute, now go get your slumber.

almira 😋

aye aye captian

matt 😩👌

You’re really something different.

almira 😋

☹️☹️☹️ nighty night

matt 😩👌

Night mira.

*almira😋 liked a message*

it was the end of the school week, finally friday, ever since tuesday matt and almira have been going text to text just laughing and talking about eachother. finally matt had the courage to ask her to call.

of course, almira didint say no, because who the fuck says no to their celebrity crush. speaking about celebrity crushes, matt hated that he was hers, he hated that she considered him a famous person and screamed whenever he texted her.

FRIDAY, 8:39PM

almiras phone ringed as she asked herself mentally if this is a good idea, but fuck it she answered on the second ring.

“damn that was fast” matts first words( @mattspolitank iykyk) as he places his phone onto the edge of his computer as he takes off his headphones.

“bro” she says before giggling a bit and hiding into her pillow, she was on her bed, on her stomach with the phone in her hand.

matt smiled as he heard her laugh, his heart immediately fluttering, as he chuckles to maxh her energy.

“anyways as i was saying, i cant deal with school anymore, like sure i love being a harvard stude-“ she was continuing to talk, even tho its her literal celebrity crush shes talking on the phone, shes an extrovert so it was normal for her. and then gets cut off by matt.

“wait wait wait, you go to harvard?” he says shocked, even tho he knew she was a straight A student, and valedictorian.

“yeah…? not that big of a deal? so basically i have like 5 essays for next week and an exam, like tell me why is this my luck” she says super casually, shocking matt with the first sentence, but he goes onto laugh as she continues to speak.

they talked for about two and a half hours, before both of them had to go get some snacks, matt because nick and chris want some, and almira because nazeera wants some.

“oh my gosh, matt is that almira? tell her i said hi i love her” nick says behind the camera, almiras jaw drops as she heard that THE NICK STURNIOLO literally just said i love her?.

“i love you too nick your my favourite” she says giggling, now its matts turn for his jaw to drop “i thought i was your favourite?” matt says.

“yeah yeah whatever, ill see you later alligator” she says giggling while matt rolls his eyes while smiling

“oh my gosh what if we meet them?” nazeera says which makes both of them laugh.

12:36AM

it was midnight and almira n nazeera had just pulled up at their local 24hr grocery store.

as almira parks her car and takes out her keys, and gets out, suddenly a KIA minivan pulls up right beside them, nazeera being the dramatic she is and gasps “mar thats literally matt what the fuck?” she whisper yells at her bestfriend as almira turns her head to see, it in fact was matt.

as he gets out the car and waits for his brothers, he looks around the parking lot making eye contact with almira, his eyes widen as he finally saw her in real life, sure she was beautiful on camera but damn did matt admire her until nick had to yell for him to go on.

“matt? hello? what are you even doing?” nick says as he snaps his fingers in matts face. he finally jumps out of his trance and walks into the store.

almira and nazeera waited for a moment and then went it right behind them. she thanked god that they had to go two seperate ways in the grocery store.

as almira and nazeera pick out some snacks, they started to talk about how the hell almira got into this position.

“but like its fucking crazy how not even a week ago i was making edi….” almira said before she got cut off and saw a middle parted brunette with a pink shirt and some grey sweatpants walk up behind nazeera and checks out some snacks. almiras eyes widen, nazeera immediately understading and they rush out of that aisle.

matt really didint think much of the rushing out, but he was also blushing for the fact she had made edits of him.

as they went to pay for their stuff, almira and nazeera immediately rushed to her car and got in, and drove away fastly.

matt chuckles as he sees her car skreech as she leaves the parking lot

——— MESSAGES———

matt 😩👌

Didn’t even say hi?

almira 😋

GO SUCJ YOUR ONW FICK

matt 😩👌

😭😭😭😭😭 you’re crazy

——————————————————————————

a/n

really hated it but 💋

#sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #impossiblefanfic

[lily-blue]

Innocent as doves

☆ characters: singer!you & activist!yeonjun ☆ genre: historical au, angst ☆ warnings: sexual harassment, character’s death, mention of blood and violence ☆ summary: your dreams brought you to him; his dreams brought destruction upon the both of you ☆ words: 15,1k ☆ a/n: Gyeongseong is the name of Seoul during the period of Japanese colonial rule ☆ also: happy birthday to the lovely @restlessmaknae 💕 i wish you an amazing day with people who love and appreciate you as you deserve ☆ massive thanks to: @dat-town for proofreading the story even though she was short of time 💕 ☆ taglist: @soobin-chois

Throughout your teenage years, you had frequently daydreamed about this very moment: the hustle and bustle of the train station, the thick smoke in the air you could almost taste on the tip of your tongue and the freedom your arrival to the capital city gave you despite your big brother’s presence right next to you. Obviously, you loved growing up in the countryside - being the only daughter of one of the leading figures of your small community came with its own privileges -, but hell did it feel good to finally try your wings on your own!

You snapped your head in your brother’s direction when he cleared his throat and took your luggage from you. Fine, you weren’t entirely on your own, but here at least no one knew who you were, therefore no one would treat you like you could break under the smallest pressure. As if a mere rejection could have destroyed your self-esteem and brought your father’s rage upon them when your father was the most understanding person you knew after your mother.

Your smile was sheepish and your cheeks rose-tinted as you let Taehyung lead you towards the exit.

‘After we get settled in our accommodation, I’ll send a letter to our father,’ your brother said, never the one to leave you in the shadows. You acknowledged his words with a curt nod and a reassuring smile. He had no reason to be worried about you. ‘I’ll try to be quick. Then, we can look around in the neighbourhood, see whether there are any jobs available closeby,’ he added, bumping his upper arm into your shoulder lightly, playfully, like he always did when he wanted to earn your forgiveness. As though you had ever been able to stay angry with him for longer than a couple of hours.

If you wanted to be honest, he had never given you any reason to stay mad at him. Sure, at the young age of seven, having your dolls destroyed might have seemed like a crime against humanity, but in reality, even that had been an accident. Taehyung was just too good-natured and caring to cause you or anyone harm on purpose.

‘I would love that, thank you,’ you said, following him down the busy streets with your much shorter legs. Thankfully, you weren’t in a hurry, so you didn’t have to adjust your steps to his as he was walking at a slower speed on purpose. He really was the best!

Your temporary home for the next six months - the time limit you had gotten from your father to find your footing in the capital city - was no more than two corners from the central train station. It was in the heart of Gyeongseong with numerous shops and facilities that catered to those who visited or lived in the city, which made you more excited about your plans for the afternoon with Taehyung. You wondered whether any of the fancy pubs and expensive hotels were looking for a singer. You hoped they did.

You would have especially liked to work close to the square with the pretty fountain that you had to pass by in order to get to your new home. It was lively and loud and everything the Gyeongseong of your dreams was. There were vendors selling fresh coffee and snacks on one side and businessmen in suit and tie entering an enormous building on the other. There was even a paperboy with today’s newspapers in his hands, shouting from the top of his lungs a couple of metres from you.

‘There are so many people! Look, oppa!’ You exclaimed, unable to resist the urge to point at the paperboy despite your manners.

Taehyung shook his head with a hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth before he grabbed your hand and pulled it downwards, back by your side.

‘Please, try not to offend people you shouldn’t on our very first day here. We’re not at home anymore, little bird,’ he chastised you, his tone lacking the usual playfulness in spite of his soft eyes.

You nodded, apologetic.

‘I am sorry,’ you mumbled under your nose, suddenly hyper aware of how rude you had been and how your actions could have reflected on your family if anyone had paid attention to the two of you.

You gulped down the bile in your throat and followed your brother in silence. You intended to keep your gaze on the ground and your excitement at bay, but after a couple of minutes, your curiosity won and you lifted your chin up high once again. Your eyes were sparkling as your gaze jumped from one spectacle to the other until it met an interesting-looking young man’s piercing one and you almost tripped over your own feet.

It was unnerving, but you failed to look away. He was sitting by a table on the terrace of one of the coffee shops with three other men, all of them wearing the same uniform, and he was observing your surroundings - you - with such intensity that you felt almost obligated to keep up your impromptu staring contest.

For a split second, you were afraid he would stand up and walk up to you and your brother, but that couldn’t have happened due to two reasons. 1) The young man was with other people and even from afar, they seemed to be discussing something rather vehemently, therefore you supposed it was something important. 2) The beautiful fountain in the middle of the square shattered into pieces, the noise and the flying rubble leaving chaos in their wake.

Even though you weren’t close to the now-destroyed fountain anymore, you fell on your butt from the shock and scraped both of your palms when your instinct kicked in and tried to protect you from the fall. People were screaming and crying wherever you looked; some were unharmed, some were bleeding, but luckily none of them stayed eerily still on the ground.

The realisation that the incident had no fatal casualties brought you some comfort and so did your brother’s protective arms that embraced you with urgency. Panting - as your gaze found the young man in the uniform screaming at someone shorter than him -, you found it weird: the relief it brought you that his attention wasn’t on you anymore.

‘Are you hurt?’ Taehyung’s question reached you like it came from under heavy layers of water and you pulled away to be able to look at his face. The dust that lingered in the air stuck to his sweaty skin mixed with the blood that was running down his temple lazily from a wound you couldn’t really see. You lifted your hand to cup his cheeks and hissed when your injured skin touched his jawline.

Taehyung grabbed your wrists and pulled your hands downwards, then pushed them towards you, so that he could take a good look at them.

‘We need to go to the hospital,’ he insisted and you let out a broken huff because what he was saying was ridiculous. People around you had more concerning injuries. Even he had a more concerning injury and he wanted to take you to the hospital because of some scratches?

‘But only because of your head injury,’ you pointed out and seeing how he furrowed his thick eyebrows upon hearing your reasoning, you were pretty sure that he hadn’t realised until that moment that he was bleeding.

He reached up to his forehead, slid his fingers sideways and hissed when his fingertips grazed the wound.

‘It’s nothing,’ he reassured you, but you shook your head and made no attempt at getting up from the ground. If he really believed that his wound was nothing, your wounds were less than nothing and you were determined to prove your point. So determined that Taehyung let out a resigned sigh when meeting your eyes he realised that he had no chance to win this argument. ‘Fine, let’s settle in our accommodation and I’ll bring back some disinfectant and bandages on my way back from the post office,’ he negotiated, but you shook your head.

‘We should buy some on our way home. That way, we can clean and dress your wound before you leave,’ you reasoned, the amused chuckle that left your brother’s throat adding a grotesque contrast to the painful wails of the people around you.

‘Deal,’ Taehyung agreed as he pulled you up from the ground and took your hand.

Without a care for your surroundings or the people in need, your brother dragged you to your new home as gently as he could and let you tend to his wound. He was on his best behaviour the entire time you were disinfecting the cut on his head, so that he could make you promise in exchange that you wouldn’t open the door to anyone once he left.

Within two weeks both Taehyung and you managed to find yourself a job that would be able to cover your rent and living expenses once you used up all of your allowance money. It was a relief, really, since on your tenth day of walking from hotel to pub to a different hotel, you had started to feel a little worried that Gyeongseong might not have had enough room for you. In hindsight, it had been a silly thought, but some things just couldn’t have been helped. Your anxiety, that you weren’t much without your father’s name, was one of them.

Singing at a hotel lobby was as close to your dream job as you could get with your pressing urge to jump on the first opportunity that presented itself to you. If you wanted to be honest, you had always wished to be able to dress in pretty ball dresses during your performances and have your own stage, but your own dresses weren’t that bad, either, nor the new microphone with the silver stand that were provided to you.

It was a promising start.

Hanging out at the bar, sitting by the counter with a glass of juice in your hands, you were waiting patiently for your turn to entertain the guests when your gaze fell on a young man in a white shirt with rolled up sleeves, dark pants, dark suspenders and round glasses atop of the bridge of his nose. His profile was handsome - more pretty than manly -, and you felt enchanted by the sight. It was hard to take your eyes off him.

Maybe that was why you noticed how unusual he was acting compared to the other guests or that the bartender seemed to both keep his distance from him and being weirdly nice to him, like they knew each other, like they were close. For example, they weren’t looking at each other, but the young man’s lips were undoubtedly moving and the bartender was clearly listening, his focus on the other’s words keeping him from walking up to the rich-looking woman near you, even though she had sat down on one of the barstools in the midst of their conversation, ready to order.

You took a sip from your juice and kept watching.

You let your curious gaze linger on the young man’s hands, paying attention to the way his fingers were drumming on the wooden countertop and you found yourself humming for a similar rhythm. You weren’t too good at improvising song lyrics, but you knew a lot of traditional ballads, so you picked one on a whim and adjusted the words to the melody. You pictured the two of you on stage, in front of a bigger audience, loving your admirers as much as you liked each other.

Your cheeks were burning because of your shameless fantasy and they turned a deeper shade of red when the young man suddenly turned towards you and raised a brow in question. You snapped your head in the opposite direction on instinct, like a child caught red-handed in the candy shop.

‘Good evening, miss,’ a surprisingly deep voice greeted you, its owner standing right behind you. Blushing, you wondered just how fast and smooth one’s steps needed to be to change locations so quickly.

‘Good evening,’ you mumbled under your nose, slowly turning towards the man.

Heart beating like crazy, you tried your best to conceal your disappointment when your eyes fell on the person who had addressed you so politely. Instead of wearing a simple shirt, the man in front of you was dressed in a familiar uniform, had a pair of thin lips rather than a full and pouty one and looked at you like he had never seen anyone like you. You weren’t sure why, but the latter made you feel uneasy.

It didn’t take long for you to realise from where he was so familiar; the heavy feeling atop of your chest was similar to how you had felt seconds before the explosion at the square on your first day in the capital city. Now that you were paying more attention to the young man’s eyes and his outfit than his other facial features and how different he looked from the man you had been staring at in the last ten minutes, it was easy to put two and two together.

‘I see you remember me. I won’t lie, it’s flattering,’ he said with a pleased smile, leaning into your personal space more as though the two of you knew each other.

You let your hand fall into your lap and straightened your posture to look more confident.

‘I…’

‘Cute,’ he noted and took a seat on the barstool next to you. ‘Let me introduce myself. I’m chief officer Nishiki Kousuke. What shall I call you?’

You had been taking etiquette classes since you had turned five along with Japanese language classes, singing and piano classes. You had attended your first ballroom dancing class at the age of nine and been taught how to manage a household around the time you had gotten your first period. You knew what the correct answer was - how you should have phrased the words and how you should have had perfect control over your body language. Still, you felt wary about telling the man your name.

You forced a hopefully soft smile on your face while you kept your slightly trembling right hand still with your other hand. You went as far as digging your nails into the inner side of your lower arm to not let your body take over control at the worst possible moment.

‘Cecily,’ your boss called for you, using your stage name, seconds before your resolve could have crumbled and you let out a relieved sigh without meaning to. ‘One more song and the stage is yours, honey,’ the middle-aged woman informed you from the left side of the bar, so you turned towards her with your entire body and nodded as a sign that you were ready.

It was a weird mix of emotions that overcame you once you jumped off the barstool. First and foremost, you were relieved that your conversation with the man in the uniform was over and he couldn’t have done anything about that or pressured you into staying. You were also super glad that you didn’t have to tell him your real name because your boss had already provided him with a name he could call you; something you had completely forgotten about because of how anxious his closeness had made you. Admittedly, you would have much preferred it if he hadn’t known any of your personal information, but it was the least bad, so you could deal with it. Then, you were excited about your performance.

It was because of the latter that your smile reached your eyes when you bid your goodbye, leaving your juice behind with an apologetic frown towards the bartender who just shook his head and poured it down the drain.

You planned to put up a great performance, an excellent performance even. You planned to charm the young man with the rolled up sleeves and round glasses, so that he couldn’t have not walked up to you after you finished your songs, but by the time you stood in front of the microphone and embraced it with both hands, he was nowhere to be seen.

You greeted the guests and wished them an amazing night like you always did, but your eyes couldn’t find him as you scanned the area and it did reflect on your mood a little. Your voice was a little blue, but it fit the ballads you had chosen for the night, so your unprofessionalism didn’t cost your job.

You got paid plenty before your brother came and picked you up, taking you home.

Sunday mornings were your new second favourite time of the week, right after those nights you spent at your workplace, singing your heart out to your audience. Sunday mornings were for you and your brother to discover new places in Gyeongseong: bookshops, clothing stores, coffee shops and diners. This particular weekend, you decided to wake up a tad bit earlier - although still not as early as you normally did on weekdays - and have breakfast outside, so that you could enjoy the good weather.

You didn’t usually drink coffee simply because you weren’t a huge fan of all things bitter, but your brother had found a shop downtown where the owner mixed different flavours into your drinks if you asked him to and the cinnamon coffee he had just made you was from another world. It was delicious, so was the yakgwa his wife had baked freshly in the kitchen in the back of the store.

‘Has that man tried to approach you again since last time?’ Your brother asked after he put the newspaper aside and took a sip from his espresso. He didn’t go into specifics, but even without additional details, you knew whom he was referring to and this fact alone was a tad unnerving.

You wiped your hands into a textile napkin and reached for the newspaper. Finally, it was your turn to have a look at what was happening in the capital city. This time, you were the most curious about the beauty pageant whose finals would be held in Gyeongseong in a couple of weeks, but you also liked skimming through their seasonal recommendations for outdoor programmes and their Japanese poems from independent poets.

‘Only once,’ you admitted quietly, flipping through the pages. ‘I started to stay with the other singers like you suggested,’ you added, not out of obligation, but to reassure him. You didn’t want Taehyung to worry about you too much; you also dreaded the possibility that he might have forbidden you to go back to the hotel if he couldn’t have been a hundred percent sure that you were safe there while he was working. Just like your parents, your brother could be pretty protective sometimes.

‘Good girl,’ the compliment fell from Taehyung’s lips easily, just as naturally as his big palm found a home atop of your head, messing up your braids with how aggressively he ruffled your hair.

You groaned, displeased, and pushed his hand away with a click of your tongue.

‘Oppa! Please, I am an adult now,’ you whined, but instead of fixing those locks that fell into your face, your focus remained on the newspaper and the flavoured coffee in your cup.

Your mother had never liked it when you read by the dining table. She thought that it wasn’t lady-like, hence you should have concentrated on more important things during meals, such as your body posture, your sweet smiles and polite answers whenever someone addressed you directly. She believed that every woman should have stuck to the same topics when joining a conversation: family, suitors and household matters.

However, your father had always had a soft spot for you, hence he had been happy to explain the business and political jargon to you when, every once in a while, you had shown interest in those types of articles. Needless to say, you still didn’t understand every word, but you could rely on context clues.

‘Of course you are,’ your brother agreed with amusement in his voice, but you didn’t pay him any attention. Instead, you kept your eyes on the article that misused the phrase “touch base” in its very first sentence.

It was a boring report on local agriculture and the benefits of trading with the Japanese, not something you usually wasted your time on, however, there was something in the way the writer had structured his sentences that kept you engaged. He used formal language and his statements were mostly general truths, but it still felt like you were reading a book: the text had rhythm and you couldn’t have helped but emphasise certain words in your head naturally. Words like: station, nation, train, eight.

‘Oppa? Did you read this one?’ You asked Taehyung when after the third and fourth reading, your brain made a list of at least a dozen of these words, linking them together and building sentences that didn’t exist.

‘Hm?’

‘This one,’ you pointed at the article with the misused expression in its first sentence and he nodded after one glance at the page, his furrowed eyebrows displaying confusion. Thus, you pushed forwards just a bit more. ‘Do you not think it is weird? Like… that it sounds weird?’

Taehyung took the newspaper from you and read those four, short paragraphs one more time. Then, he gave it back to you with a frown.

‘I mean it does sound like propaganda,’ he admitted in a small voice, making sure that no one around you could hear him. ‘But that’s not unusual.’

You leaned your back against the backrest of your chair and let out a dramatic sigh. Taehyung was right, it wasn’t unheard of that people wrote baseless reports on literally anything that helped the Japanese to be seen in a better light by the locals - according to your father, the more credible these articles sounded, the more money their writers made -, but this wasn’t what you were talking about. You were talking about the hidden message.

‘It sounds like a song,’ you argued, less conscious of your surroundings. 

Unsurprisingly, your outburst earned you a reprimanding glance from your brother.

‘Well, not to me,’ he argued and flicked your forehead to remind you of your manners. You straightened your back on instinct and resisted the urge to pout, although you could feel your lower lip tremble because of your suppressed annoyance. You hated when he did this, when he treated you like you were five.

‘But…’ you started, however, soon decided against finishing your sentence when two people took a seat by the table in front of you and Taehyung shook his head in an alarmingly slow motion. You choked on your words and swallowed them down without as much as a yelp.

By the time you finished your cinnamon-flavoured coffee and your brother stole the last piece of yakgwa from the porcelain in front of you, you convinced yourself that the hidden message was all in your head. After all, why would anyone have informed the public - and with that, the local police - about an upcoming bombing and risked getting caught? It would have been stupid. Yeah… utterly, ridiculously, truly stupid. No one was that reckless, which meant that your mind was playing a trick on you.

Leaving, you sealed your lips on the way back to your two-bedroom apartment and didn’t bring up the article even when you got home. It wasn’t worth it, making your brother worried or angry over it.

Three days later, at eight in the morning, a small group of activists blew up the central train station.

You still didn’t tell anyone about the article. Not because you were afraid of the consequences - although you should have been -, but because your brother was already looking for other apartments in the more peaceful suburbs, urging you to quit your job at the hotel, so that you could have moved as soon as he found an adequate deal. You didn’t want to sabotage yourself when it was already a challenge to persuade Taehyung to let you keep working in the heart of the city. Selfishly, you kept the secret to be able to keep your dream.

Before the second explosion, it had taken you ten minutes to get to work. You hadn’t needed to calculate with external factors such as the number of available cabs in the area or the mass on the trams that might have made it impossible for you to get on the vehicle.

Living in one of the outer districts was different. Since you insisted on keeping your job, you had to leave your apartman two hours in advance and be aware of drivers who deliberately chose the longer routes to milk as much money out of you as possible. It was inconvenient, but it was your choice, so you were determined to not show how much you were struggling to Taehyung. The last thing you needed was him reminding you that he had told you so.

Shifting your body weight from one foot to the other, you stayed close to Aeshin, Jenna and Hyolyn like you had promised to your brother, but didn’t join their girly conversation. You did hum here and there to keep up the facade, however, your gaze lingered elsewhere: on the young man with rolled up sleeves and round glasses. He was back, sitting by the main bar and whispering under his nose as though he wasn’t talking to the bartender when the older man clearly paid attention to him.

You wondered whether you were the only one who noticed their strange interactions or the others simply didn’t care. You also wondered whether the same went for the strange article in the newspaper. Were you the only one? Were others out there, too, turning a blind eye to these odd occurrences? Could these two things be connected?

You were dying to know.

Therefore, when Jenna was called on stage and you caught the young man putting something in his pocket from the corner of your eyes, you quickly excused yourself as well and walked up to the bar. It felt like a now or never situation to you and after experiencing first hand how infrequently the other showed up at your workplace and how rarely he stayed, you believed that your urgency was justified.

‘Good evening, sir!’ You greeted him as soon as you were beside him, your smile polite and sweet just the way your mother had taught you. You ignored his raised eyebrow and how he was already half-standing.

‘Yes?’ He asked and for a moment you actually contemplated if it had been wise to sit down and act like you were oblivious to the fact that he was about to leave or he would have used it against you and left without entertaining you with a made-up excuse.

You stayed standing.

‘Have you happened to read the article about the benefits of trading with the Japanese in the newspaper two weeks ago, on Sunday? The writer misused the phrase “touch base” in the first sentence,’ you inquired, paying close attention to the tiniest changes in the young man’s facial expression like you always did with Taehyung, but his mask was impenetrable. Like he wasn’t looking at you, just staring out of his head.

You pressed your lips together, disappointed that you might have been so wrong. However, a voice inside of your head, suspiciously akin to your best friend and forever partner in crime back at home, told you you shouldn’t have given up so easily. After all, it couldn’t have been denied that this man and the bartender were acting weird and seemingly everyone disregarded their weird behaviour like it was the norm.

Or a collective secret.

‘It predicted the bombing,’ you chirped, using the very same tone that always drew a reaction out of your brother without fail.

It earned you one this time as well.

The thought that there must have been a reason for the workers and the guests to look through this man crossed your mind again when he grabbed your elbow and pulled you towards the storage room that belonged to the main bar. A panicked yelp stuck in the back of your throat as you looked around in the lobby and you met numerous unamused looks before people one by one, guests and employees alike, turned in the opposite direction.

You almost tripped over your own foot when you were yanked into the small room and the door closed shut behind your back with a loud thud.

‘Do you have a death wish?’ The young man hissed, pushing you against the wall with both hands. You gulped when your head hit it hard, missing your brother’s gentle palm that always slid between the back of your head and any firm surface when you lost your balance or were too unaware of your surroundings to notice something as big as a lamp pose.

‘No,’ you objected, although your voice came out weak.

Your answer earned you a scoff.

‘Then I advise you not to walk up to random people, talking about things you clearly know nothing about,’ he stated firmly, making your heart beat like crazy with how close his pouty lips were to yours. You could taste the air that left his mouth and phantom the touch of the tip of his nose against your rose-tinted cheek.

‘I did not walk up to a random guy,’ you insisted, short of breath. He pulled away a little to look you in the eyes at that. ‘I walked up to you,’ you claimed, mustering up all your bravery and confidence to be able to keep eye contact. Might it have been because you had grown up with an older brother, but something told you that you needed to earn his respect to get those answers you were looking for. People with thick skin and unwavering hearts were looked up to in every romance book you had put your hands on in your teenage years.

‘You know nothing about me,’ the man retorted and to that you didn’t actually have a good comeback because you were calling him young man in your head since day one and those three facts you did know about him were all pieces of his appearance: the way he dressed, the shape of his lips and his cute habit of drumming on the countertop with his fingers.

You didn’t even know his name.

‘But I am right, am I not? You know about the article. You and maybe Jaewon-ssi, too?’ The second part of your short monologue sounded more like a question than a statement, but it held enough weight for the young man to put more pressure on your windpipe. Mentioning the bartender might have been a bit too reckless.

You lifted your hands to his forearm and dug your nails into his skin to snap him out of it. It didn’t help much, but seconds before you could have started to see stars, he finally let go.

Not being able to lean on him, nor having him hold you against the cold wall anymore, you fell forwards. You crouched down in front of him, trying to catch your breath.

‘Stop sticking your nose into other people’s business, little girl,’ he spat before he leaned down and put his index finger under your chin to force you to look up at him. Your eyes were teary, but lacking anger or fear as you let him do whatever he pleased. ‘I can guarantee you that your suitor wouldn’t be too happy if he knew you’re walking around carelessly, asking questions about the bombings.’

Your furrowed your brows in confusion.

‘What do you mean my suitor?’ You asked, not understanding where this misunderstanding was coming from until the realisation suddenly hit you in the face. You remembered the first night you had seen this man sitting by the bar. Your eyes had met for a sheer moment and panicking, you had looked in the opposite direction. Then, someone had walked up to you and silly you had thought it had been him.

It had been the Japanese chief officer, Nishiki Kousuke.

‘Oh? The Japanese man? He is not my suitor. He is just… well… it might sound like I am full of myself, which I am not,’ you rambled, unaware of the amused smile in the corner of the young man’s mouth. ‘I am telling you, he is obsessed with me.’

The silence that followed your confession was deafening. The longer it stretched, the more self-conscious and uncomfortable you felt, but you also didn’t know what to say to break it. 

‘Obsessed with you?’ He asked with a small tilt to his head, one eyebrow raised. His posture and tone reminded you of those times when your piano teacher hadn’t wanted to believe you when you had told him you had been practising and it left a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt super embarrassed.

Munching on your lower lip, you opted for a nod.

To your mother’s dismay, you weren’t always good at it, especially when your feelings were involved, but you had been taught how to read the room and your conversation partners’ facial expressions. It was a must, so that you could leave a good first impression on your potential future husband. Therefore, you stared at the young man attentively, hoping to figure out how he felt about the revelation. Did he believe you? Was he relieved that there wasn’t a courtship he had to be mindful of? Did he feel as hopeful as you did?

After long seconds of silence, you could answer only one of these questions. He put more distance between the two of you, but he believed you.

‘Okay,’ he said as he linked his arms in front of his chest. ‘If you can figure out where to find me, and no, not here. Then, we can talk,’ he gave you an ultimatum, the challenge clear in his tone.

‘I will,’ you promised, anxiously waiting for the clues that could help locate him outside of the hotel lobby, but he remained silent.

He didn’t help you up from the dirty floor. He didn’t give you any hints about where to start your little treasure hunt, nor did he tell you his name. He was simply watching you sitting on your heels, then gave you a nod and walked out of the storage room.

You stayed there, trying to collect your thoughts and process what had just happened until the bartender came in for more soju and informed you that Aeshin was already on stage, which meant you would perform next.

You thanked him and seeing that he wasn’t bothered by your presence, you gave yourself a couple of more minutes before you stood up, fixed your dress and went back to the girls. You should have expected it, however, it still surprised you that no one addressed your absence. They acted like you had been there with them the whole time and something cold and ugly in your chest nagged at you that you should have felt more scared than you did at that moment.

Snapping your head in your boss’ direction when she called your name, you quickly brushed the unease aside and walked behind the microphone with a soft smile on your face. Finally, it was your time to charm the audience.

You started your investigation on your next day at work. You purposely arrived an hour early to be able to strike up a conversation with Jaewon-ssi, but the bartender was sparse with his words and judging with his silence. He was less cooperative than a brick of wall.

The girls were a little more willing. You might not have known each other’s real names, but you had shared many stories about your personal lives over the weeks, hence it wasn’t like they didn’t know that you could keep your mouth shut. You were trustworthy. Maybe not trustworthy enough to get an address, but they did tell you the young man’s name.

Yeonjun. A gift from God.

That night, you were lying in your bed wide awake, thinking of him and what you should have done next. Clearly, he had to be someone important for the employees at the hotel to hide his identity so earnestly. You knew going to your boss or approaching some of the guests who had been there that night when Yeonjun had dragged you into the storage room would have been a waste of time. Should you have gone to the police? What would you have told them? If he had had anything to do with the bombing like you assumed, that would have led to a disaster. You needed to find another way.

After much consideration, you came to the conclusion that decoding another odd article was your best chance. Thus, you started to read the newspaper religiously. You looked for typos and misused phrases in the first paragraphs in case these could have been indications that the article in question wasn’t what it looked like. Then, you tried to find words that rhymed.

It took you weeks, but on a random Sunday night you either lost it or you finally succeeded. You had a location and a time. You knew where to go next.

You were nervous.

You were also super excited about seeing the young man again and finding out whether these hidden messages were real or they only existed in your head and somehow the bombing at the train station had been a mere coincidence. Would the latter have meant that you were crazy? Did living far from your hometown and moving out from your parents’ house have a negative effect on your mental health?

You pushed these thoughts in the back of your mind and locked them away in a box along with those things you didn’t wish to handle ahead of time. You would worry about potentially going mad when you got there; you would worry when you reached the traditional diner you had read about in the newspaper and Yeonjun wasn’t there.

It was the first time you set foot in this area in Gyeongseong. The neighbourhood was on the border of the central districts, thousands of people making it loud and lively as they walked down the streets without a care for their surroundings. It looked more like a bigger town with its own administration than a part of the capital city, but that was why you were so sure you were heading towards the right place. Hence, you held onto your flickering confidence and sped up your steps.

You arrived ten minutes early, but you did so on purpose, because you were more afraid of being late and missing your chance than waiting at an unfamiliar place, completely on your own. You walked inside of the building instead of killing some time in front of it. You greeted the owners with a polite bow and were about to take a seat by the window to be able to keep an eye on the entrance when someone grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards the back door.

‘Hey! It hurts,’ you whined, trying your best to brush the stranger’s hand off yourself until you lifted your head and your gaze landed on him: those pouty lips, the rounded glasses and the white shirt with rolled up sleeves. Yeonjun. You had found him.

You weren’t sure whether it was because of the wide smile on your face that he looked at you so weirdly or because of what you had said, but in the end, he shook his head and let go of your wrist. You pouted, missing the warmth of his touch now that you knew it hadn’t been a random stranger who had tried to drag you out of the diner you had every right to be at - or so you thought.

‘Just follow me,’ he said and turned his back to you before you could have nodded; you felt stupidly happy that he trusted you that you wouldn’t have run away, although if you had given it a second thought, you could have realised that you running away or not showing up at all was almost the same from his point of you. Still, it felt nice.

With your lower lip between your teeth - you were trying to conceal that potentially creepy, bright smile of yours - and your heart pounding in your throat, you did as Yeonjun said and the two of you exited the building through the kitchen. The back door opened to a less busy street parallel to the main road and looking around, you could easily spot the smoking area thanks to all the cigarette stubs on the ground and the excessive amount of ash around the makeshift ashtrays. You hoped the young man didn’t plan to answer your questions there, on the dirty boxes they used as chairs, but he sat down on the one closest to him, so you did the same, albeit with a small frown.

‘What? Is it below you, little girl? Do you need me to bring you a pillow or something?’ The young man scoffed and you swallowed down the retort that was scratching the back of your throat because if you had wanted to be honest, you would have liked to have a puffy pillow or something soft and clean to sit on.

You didn’t want to get into an argument with him that could have potentially upset the both of you. Instead, you sat down and turned towards him with your whole body.

‘Are you the one writing those articles? How many of you are in this together? Is Jaewon-ssi here, too? What about the rest of the staff at the hotel?’ You asked as soon as he met your curious eyes. You had a whole list of questions regarding the bombing as well, but a part of you thought it would have been wiser to start with the less compromising aspect of these odd occurrences in case there was a less compromising aspect of them to begin with.

Yeonjun leaned backwards, putting a part of his weight on his hands behind his back, raising an eyebrow at you with an indistinguishable look in his eyes. Observing his face for a couple of seconds, you decided that he was more amused than anything.

‘Do you really believe I’ll tell you everything just because you’re here?’ Yeonjun asked, his question not making too much sense to you at first. Straightening your back, you put both of your palms on your knees and pressed your heels together, not letting him intimidate you or make you feel as though you were unreasonable for believing so. 

‘You promised,’ you stated with your chin held high, looking him straight in the eyes.

Albeit quietly, he laughed.

‘I said we will talk. I’ve made no such promises, stupid girl,’ he reminded you with a click of his tongue like he was lecturing a child or a poor dog. You weren’t too fond of either of these comparisons.

‘But…’ you wanted to argue, however, a single look from the young man was enough to shut you up. You bit into your cheek from the inside then nodded. Admittedly, you wouldn’t have been able to recite word by word what he had said to do that night, but because of this, you had a hunch that going into an argument wouldn’t have ended well. ‘I am not stupid, do not call me that,’ so you said instead, being hung up on another part of his statement that you weren’t happy about.

You had spent a significant part of your childhood around private teachers. You had sacrificed so much time studying, practising, reading that being called stupid so nonchalantly felt like a slap. Especially from him, whose opinion you cared about.

‘How did you figure it out? About this place?’ Yeonjun asked instead of apologising, coaxing a resigned sigh out of you with how much ease and disregard he diverted the topic. But at least he wasn’t calling you stupid this time. In fact! He was curious about something that clearly showed just how smart you were despite your gender. Therefore, you could put aside your frustration and forgive him for his rudeness.

‘It was in the newspaper. Your…’ You quickly corrected yourself before he could have told you that your assumption was incorrect. ‘The article sounds like a song. There is emphasis on certain words,’ you explained, preening yourself on the way he was paying close attention to every word that left your mouth. He had to be impressed, there was no other explanation for the slowly decreasing distance between the two of you, him leaning so close to you that he was practically hovering over the makeshift table placed between your fake chairs.

‘Interesting theory,’ he said, voice deep and slow as though he was choosing every one of his words with great care.

‘It is not a theory,’ you insisted, because at that point you were convinced that you were speaking facts. Sure, there might have been other methods for reading those articles. Maybe, there were people out there with actual decoders, people like your brother who couldn’t see the structure of their sentences without additional help, but that didn’t mean you were wrong or just lucky. You had successfully read between the lines twice already. That meant a pattern, not pieces of information obtained by chance.

For a while, the two of you were staring at each other soundlessly. The muffled buzzing of the neighbouring streets was the only source of noise, your heartbeat in your ears. It wasn’t comforting, not at all, but you dug your nails into your palms to conceal your slowly growing anxiety.

‘Do you like chicken soup? Black bean noodles?’ He asked and you furrowed your brows in confusion. It was such a blatant attempt at diverting the topic that calling him out on it would have almost felt ridiculous. He had to know that you would notice. You were sure he knew that you had noticed.

You let out another sigh. It felt like the nth that day, however, it couldn’t have been more than the second or third.

‘Both,’ you said eventually, because it didn’t matter that much to you. You had eaten the food your mother had put on the table all your life and were only recently experimenting with flavours you genuinely liked. Developing preferences took time.

‘I’ll have Min ahjussi bring us some noodles then,’ Yeonjun informed you before he pushed himself further from the table and stood up. He was already a few steps away when his steps came to a sudden halt and he looked back at you from above his shoulder. ‘If you’re still here when I come back… don’t say you haven’t been warned,’ he said, then disappeared behind the same door you had walked through not that long ago.

In his absence, you let your shoulders fall forwards and your posture take on a natural curve. You didn’t understand. Warned about what? So far he had told you close to nothing. In fact! It was you whose lips had been loose. Thus, you came to the conclusion that he tried to avoid answering your question by scaring you away. And you wouldn’t let that happen.

When he came back with two bowls of steaming black bean noodles, you were still there, patiently waiting. Your mouth salivated at the delicious sight and the mouth-watering smell. You couldn’t wait to dive in the heavenly dish and devour it until the last spoonful of thick, dark paste.

While you were eating, you didn’t talk about any of your questions, but silence didn’t stay in your company for too long. Yeonjun made sure of it. He asked you about your singing career, whether it was like how you had pictured it to be before you had moved to the capital city and why hadn’t you looked for another place to perform at when you had moved to the suburbs. You talked about Taehyung, how hard it had been to convince him to let you keep working at the hotel and how Yeonjun was an only child, but had many friends who were like family to him. You had a good time, therefore you had no regrets even when later, on your way to work, you realised that you weren’t any closer to connecting the dots, the articles to the bombing, not at all.

You also realised that you didn’t really care about the mystery anymore. You were perfectly content with this new side of Yeonjun that you had gotten to know that afternoon.

The diner became your safe place without you realising. Whenever Yeonjun wasn’t there to spend some time with you over a nice, warm meal, you ordered yourself a dish you had never tried before and relished in the flavourful bites that for some reason felt like home even this far from your family. You could stay there for hours, sipping on your iced water and watching the streets.

And when Yeonjun was there… That was another kind of home. A warm and fuzzy bubble in which you could find solace when you had a fight with your brother because of his protective nature. A place where you could vent about the guests at the hotel you worked at and voice out how much you missed your parents without the overwhelming fear of misinterpretation and being taken back to them. With Yeonjun, you experienced a type of comfort you had never experienced in your life; it broke down those thick walls your teachers and your mother had built around the real you in order to please everyone around you and protect your family’s name. With him, you were free: free to speak your mind without worrying about offending him, free to eat more than how much a lady should have eaten in public and free to laugh so loud an unapologetic, random strangers could hear it.

‘No, seriously. Is he still bothering you?’ Yeonjun asked between two spoonfuls of chicken soup, shaking his head in disbelief, mumbling about the audacity and entitlement of Japanese people as though it was a genetic characteristic.

Obviously, over the weeks, you had come to know just how deeply rooted his hate for them was. It was blind rage fueled by his father’s execution and his mother’s broken heart that had taken her, too, way too soon, leaving the then-eighteen-year-old boy on his own. You couldn’t say you understood Yeonjun’s concept of revenge as he hadn’t known the face of the person who had pulled the trigger and turned him into an orphan, but you wanted to be there for him, to support him nonetheless.

‘It’s not that bad. I’ve been alone with him for a total of five minutes. The girls came to my rescue as soon as they noticed,’ you reassured him, more annoyed with yourself for letting a situation like that happen than Yeonjun’s disapproving frown, which wouldn’t have been the case if it had been your brother who was looking at you like this, like he had told you so that it was naive of you to think staying with the girls could keep him away.

‘You should stop being so nice to him,’ he said bluntly, although upon meeting your eyes his gaze became softer.

‘I can’t offend him,’ you mumbled under your nose, shoving a spoonful of lukewarm soup into your mouth to conceal your displeased frown. It wasn’t like you enjoyed having chief officer Nishiki’s undivided attention. On the contrary! You would have preferred not having him anywhere near you at all as something in the way he looked at you made your skin crawl. But you couldn’t have afforded sending him away when it was always in public that he talked to you. There was no way you could have been the cause of him losing face.

‘I could tell him you’re not interested,’ Yeonjun offered in a heartbeat, no hesitation, no stalling. It made you blush furiously, the implication behind his claim.

‘I…’ you stuttered, your brain throwing imaginary scenarios at you of Yeonjun walking up to the two of you when the Japanese man approached you at your workplace, of him pulling you behind his back protectively, telling the officer that you were his.

You had never wanted anything so desperately.

‘And why would you do such a thing?’ An unfamiliar voice came from behind you, the scoff at the end of his question forcing you to turn your head towards the source. In that split second, it crossed your mind that maybe the person was talking to someone else and it was a simple case of misunderstanding, but no. The young man, who pulled a chair to your table in the meantime, was undoubtedly talking to you.

‘What are you doing?’ Yeonjun asked, not bothering with greetings or pleasantries. He didn’t even look at the guy, his chocolate brown orbs focused on you, painting your cheeks a deeper shade of red with their intensity.

‘Deflecting, aren’t we?’ The stranger remarked with a pinch of mockery to his velvety tone. It reminded you of the boys in your hometown when they got defensive after being rejected. You didn’t like it.

Whoever this man was, he opened the wooden drawer of the table with ease and took a casual sip from Yeonjun’s soup with his spoon. You watched the scene unfold, mortified, but unlike what you would have expected, Yeonjun didn’t get upset nor did he push the other away. 

Only then did it occur to you that they might not only have known each other, but they were friends, too.

‘What do you want?’ Yeonjun grumbled, sharing his side dishes with the guy so naturally, it made you wonder whether either of them realised how they looked from an outsider’s point of view. Like brothers.

You sucked in your lower lip to swallow back a whimper. Could this guy’s earlier question have meant that he didn’t like you? Did he not want you in Yeonjun’s life? Would he have tried to convince his friend to stop spending so much time with you? 

‘That asshole’s never alone,’ the guy said, tone cold as ice. Suddenly, you lost your appetite, too nervous about where this conversation was going. ‘We’ve been watching him for months and now you’re telling me you’d fuck up our best chance to get him away from his lackeys for what?’

Yeonjun’s friend swallowed the food in his mouth and checked you out from head to toe. He didn’t seem impressed and it left a bitter taste on the tip of your tongue. You were wearing your prettiest summer dress and it had taken you half an hour to create the curls in your hair.

‘A pair of adequate legs?’ He finished his monologue, earning an eye roll with his comment on your looks that clearly made you uncomfortable and self-conscious. 

‘Wooyoung, apologise!’ Yeonjun demanded, pushing his bowl to the left side of the table, far enough from his friend to not be able to reach it. Despite his calm tone and unbothered facial expression, his eyes looked angry. Yet, you were more afraid of Wooyoung’s opinion about you than him as though, at one point, your heart had convinced your brain that Yeonjun could have never hurt you.

‘But for real, man! You know, just as I do, that it’s our best chance. She goes on a date with him, she makes sure they go somewhere private and then…’ Wooyoung banged on the table with his fists, his excitement showing. ‘Then, we catch the bastard!’

You gulped, feeling uneasy. On the one hand, you would have loved to have the opportunity to be able to prove to this guy that you were worthy of Yeonjun’s time and attention, and you also wanted to help him get his revenge. On the other hand, the mere thought of going on a date with the chief officer sent an icy, unpleasant shiver down your spine. How were you supposed to make him believe that you wanted to go somewhere private with him? You were a singer, not an actress.

‘It’s seriously not that hard,’ Yeonjun sighed, shaking his head, disappointment soaking into his voice and posture. You watched as he leaned his back against the backrest of his chair and linked his arms in front of his chest with a deep sigh. ‘Repeat after me: I’m sorry I’m such an asshole,’ he said, raising an eyebrow in a way that said: dare to do otherwise.

‘You know I’m right,’ Wooyoung protested, refusing to tear his gaze away from his friend or back down.

You dug your nails into your palms under the table, holding your breath.

‘Fine!’ Wooyoung gave in eventually, scaring you with his sudden declaration. You could feel your cheeks burning up from the humiliation when you realised you weren’t exactly subtle with the way your shoulders jerked upon hearing his loud voice. ‘I’m sorry. Your legs aren’t adequate,’ he said and you nodded on automatic, your thoughts all over the place.

Yeonjun shook his head, but pulled the bowl in front of himself again and didn’t growl at his friend when he stole a spoonful of it immediately.

‘You’re unbelievable,’ Yeonjun grumbled under his nose.

‘Unbelievably handsome,’ his friend retorted, serving himself from your side dishes as well since you hadn’t touched your lunch since he had joined you.

You didn’t protest. You were too busy thinking about their plan to go after the chief officer, what it could have entailed and how much danger Yeonjun could have gotten himself into if they had decided to attack the Japanese man with his “lackeys” around. Would he have gone to jail if they had gotten caught? How long would they have locked him up?

‘I will do it,’ you proposed out of the blue, the determination in your eyes borderline insane. There was no reason for you to willingly put yourself in that position. You weren’t part of their movement, you were a mere regular at the diner they occasionally used as their meeting point and still… The thought of Yeonjun and his friend - but mostly Yeonjun - getting hurt because you were a coward didn’t sit well with you.

You were also stubborn and you wanted Yeonjun’s friend to like you, so that you would have his support when things got better and a lot more serious between the two of you.  

‘No, you won’t,’ Yeonjun said. He refused to entertain your suggestion and made sure you knew how much he hated your idea with the intensity of his gaze. It burned holes into your skin and closed up your throat.

‘Come on, man! Let the pretty lady talk,’ Wooyoung insisted, nudging his friend’s upper arm, then turning his full attention to you when Yeonjun refused to ease up to the proposal.

Your heart was in your throat when you deliberately ignored Yeonjun and shifted your gaze from his furrowed brows and hard eyes to his friend. You hoped that he knew you didn’t do it to upset him. You simply wanted to help and most importantly, keep him safe.

‘Are you going to be there? The whole time?’ You asked Wooyoung, your nails leaving tiny crescent moons in your palms. You wished Yeonjun would have told you everything was fine, that he wasn’t angry with you and that he would keep an eye on you the whole time, making sure you were safe, but maybe that was selfish. He had every right to be upset, didn’t he? If your brother had been in his shoes, he would have already dragged you out of this diner for insisting on doing something so reckless despite his warning.

‘We won’t let him touch you. I promise,’ Wooyoung pledged, his gaze showing his devotion and you foolishly wanted to believe that his loyalty was meant for you, that your well-being would be more important to him than catching the chief officer off guard in a secluded area. Because an innocent human life should have been worth more than meagre ideals, right?  

Clenching and unclenching your fists, you allowed yourself a glance at Yeonjun whose eyes were already on you. For a second it looked like he wanted to tell you something. Maybe he wanted to give it another try and talk you out of this crazy idea; maybe he didn’t. Maybe he was childishly excited about the chance to get close to the Japanese man with your help and he was guilty about it. Maybe you were overthinking it.

‘I’ll get you out of there before you know it,’ Yeonjun declared in the end with a curt nod, sending a small albeit genuine-looking smile in your way from the other side of the table. 

You reciprocated the gesture with one of your shy smiles and turned back to your abandoned soup. That was all the reassurance you needed.

The first few bites were spent in silence, but then Wooyoung asked about your relationship with Nishiki Kousuke, how had the two of you met and how confident you were that you could have influenced his choice of date location. You admitted that you weren’t too sure you had that much power over the chief officer, but promised them that you would do your best and asked for suggestions of less crowded yet nice places to go on a first date in the city.

Once the three of you went over every crucial detail, you acknowledged with a happy heart that Wooyoung was actually curious about you, about your thoughts of his best friend and the short history the two of you shared. He wanted to know your favourite dishes and drinks, where you had grown up and what you liked to do for fun. His rambles and anecdotes about himself and the guys (including Yeonjun and a bunch of people whose names you had never heard before) successfully took your mind off the mission you had signed up for.

By the time you had to leave, so that you could have taken the tram to your workplace, you were almost excited about helping the boys.

Unsurprisingly, you only had to wait a week for the Japanese officer to approach you again; from there, making him believe that he actually had a chance was a piece of cake. It took you a couple of soft smiles, a bit less resistance. Then, on the third night that he found you sitting on your own by the main bar, he jumped on the opportunity before your boss could have called your stage name and urged you to stand behind the microphone.

Lying into your brother’s face was harder. It left open wounds on your heart that despite his protective nature, he never once questioned your words when you told him that you had to take on an extra shift because one of the girls had fallen sick and couldn’t sing. Still, deep down you knew he wouldn’t have understood, nor would he have let you out of his sight if you had told him the truth.

So that night you said goodbye to Taehyung the way you always did when he left for work sooner than you did. Then, you waited for ten slowly passing minutes, anxiously sipping on your calming tea, fearing that your brother might have left something at home and would catch you red-handed. You had never felt so much guilt in your entire life.

As soon as your hands stopped trembling, you put on your prettiest dress and styled your hair according to the latest trends in the capital city. The silver necklace in your neck was a piece of jewellery you had inherited from your grandmother, while the rose-coloured tint on your lips was the newest addition to your collection. You had bought it at the market during your last brother-sister date with Taehyung on Sunday morning.

Your heart was in your throat.

If you wanted to be a hundred percent honest, you still weren’t too comfortable with the idea of this man knowing where you lived, but Wooyoung and a similarly young man, Changbin had convinced you that you would never have to see his face again after your date, so you had agreed to share your real address and real name with the officer to rock him into a false sense of safety.

While you were waiting for chief officer Nishiki in front of the building, you repeatedly reminded yourself that Yeonjun would be out there, watching over you the whole time. And not just him, but his friends as well. You were safe. You were helping the man find peace through his revenge and then… then you would confess your feelings for him because after this, you would have a chance for a good life without his past haunting him.

‘Good evening, beautiful,’ was what pulled you out of your head, back into the present where Nishiki Kousuke was looking at you like he was about to dig his teeth into you and tear you to pieces.

‘Good evening, chief officer,’ you reciprocated his greeting with a hopefully believable, shy smile. You forced your body to stay still when he reached out for your hand and to not flinch because of the unwanted touch; you forced yourself to see a different face where there were no adorable, pouty lips or a cute nose, no rounded glasses or a warm pair of chocolate eyes.

You liked walking down the streets, window-shopping and snacking on street food, but of course you had never told any of these to your date, so it really shouldn’t have taken you by surprise when he urged you towards his car instead. You followed him obediently, mumbling a thank you under your nose when he opened the door for you to the passenger’s seat.

You were worried that the guys weren’t prepared for following a car.

‘Where are we going?’ You asked, to prevent your brain from coming up with different scenarios on its own, worst case scenarios, scenarios in which you were left on your own and this man would do as he pleased. Would you be able to tell him no if he started to get a little bit too touchy? Would you be able to push him away without angering him and suffering the consequences?

You dug your nails into your palms, looking out the window, trying to figure out where you were and where you were heading.

‘It’s a surprise, sweetheart. You’ll love it,’ the Japanese man reassured you, patting your head and ruffling your hair a little along with it. If you hadn’t been so nervous, you would have found it funny how the very same gesture from Yeonjun had never bothered you, but you were fidgety and anxious, so there was very little that you had found particularly funny.

You still offered the officer a shy smile.

Probably seeing how awkward you felt in the car and hopefully mistaking it for your lack of dating experience, chief officer Nishiki attempted to break the ice with casual small talk. He told you how happy he was that the weather was pleasantly warm instead of unbearingly hot or rainy. He joked about how his uniform got super heavy when it got soaked, he talked about his achievements and his ambitions. You hummed, nodded and smiled in this sequence like you had been taught, asking questions that encouraged him to talk more, filling the silence, as though you were genuinely interested in getting to know him more.

The ride did feel shorter this way and you were grateful for the momentary distraction even though you couldn’t have recited half of what the man was saying. Honestly, you didn’t have the slightest idea when he had started to talk about his father or how he had managed to divert the topic to something so personal without you noticing.

The building you parked in front of was a traditional, Japanese coffee shop with a beautiful, lush garden in its centre. The cherry trees overpowered the distinct smell of roasted bean and dressed the otherwise green scenery into a lovely shade of pink. 

‘It is beautiful, but…’ you stuttered, looking around and taking in the breathtaking sight. At that moment, although you knew this man was bad news and his pushy attitude had indeed put you off during the past weeks, you felt touched that he had taken his time to find this coffee shop for your date, for you. It was just that… something felt off about the silence, the complete lack of heartfelt chatters. ‘Are they closed for the day? Are we allowed to be here?’

Logically, it made no sense that the two of you had been able to enter the building if they had been closed. However, people made mistakes and if the owner had left the door open by accident, you would have hated to cause any inconvenience with your presence.

‘We are. I rented the whole place just for us.’ He came up behind you, placing his hand on your waist and pushing you forwards gently, towards the nearest empty table outside in the private garden.

You gulped, but you obliged without any complaint.

In search for the menu, you soon realised that you didn’t need one, because when a middle aged man walked up to you, he already had some snacks in his hands along with two cups of coffee: an espresso for the chief officer and a cinnamon coffee for you like he had known that was your current favourite even though you had only ever mentioned it to Yeonjun and of course, your brother, who had been there when you had first given it a try. With a knot in your throat, you furrowed your brows, but accepted the drink.

‘Tell me about yourself,’ officer Nishiki urged you, smiling at you from behind his cup.

You bit back the comment that he had already seemed to know more about you than you were comfortable sharing. Yeonjun would have laughed at a remark like this, calling you feisty with a proud look on his face, but this man would have most probably put you back to your place. Offending him would have cost more than what it was worth.

So you started talking. You told him about your hometown, why you had come to the capital city and what kinds of food you enjoyed in general. You were so afraid that he would have caught on to every white lie that fell from your lips that you didn’t dare to say anything else but the truth.

‘Excuse me, chief officer! I need to use the restroom,’ you said softly when you finished your coffee and the boys still didn’t show any sign that they were around, watching over you, even though you had unknowingly gotten the Japanese man alone just like they had wished you to. Had they really lost you when you had gotten in that car? Were you on your own?

You walked into the restroom on the opposite side of the shop as slowly as you could without looking unnatural or forced, then leaned over the marble sink and splashed some cold water on your face, mindful of your light makeup. You had to figure out how to put an end to this date politely since you honestly doubted you would have been able to inform the guys about where you were. Argh. You couldn’t believe that all of your effort was in vain.

You snapped your head to the right, towards the door, when you heard a creaking sound: a clear sign that it was being opened. You had thought the coffee shop was empty except for the two of you and the owner, which meant that the women’s restroom should have been a safe place for you where you could have thought through your options without being disturbed.

‘It’s just me,’ a familiar voice whispered, sending an unpleasant shiver down your spine even before you would have recognized to whom it belonged. You pressed your lips together into a thin line, hiding your hands behind your back, so you didn’t hold onto the sink desperately. ‘I didn’t intend to scare you,’ the officer said, and while his tone was gentle, his presence made you feel unsafe.

‘Is everything okay? Did something happen?’ You asked instead of letting your complaints slip through your teeth as the latter would have done no good to either of you in the current situation.

‘There’s nothing to worry about, sweetheart,’ the man reassured you, his words creating an odd juxtaposition with the way he took a large step closer to you then another, crowding your personal space.

If there was nothing to worry about, why was he there? In the women’s restroom.

It was when your shoulder bumped into the wall that you realised your legs were moving on their own, trying to put some distance between the two of you. Too bad the room was small and with the officer between you and the exit, you had nowhere to hide or run.

‘We should go back to our table then,’ you tried, hoping that your act of innocence would pull you out of this weird predicament, but you weren’t so lucky.

Instead, the Japanese man cupped your cheeks and grinned at you, his calloused fingertips fondling the sensitive skin under your eyes before one of his hands slid to your neck, to your shoulder, all the way down your arm until it found itself a new home on your waist. You could feel panic rising in your insides.

‘I would like to go back to—’ your plea was cut short when a pair of rough lips was pressed against your virgin ones, stealing the air from your lungs. It took you a couple of heartbeats to come back to your senses and when you did, you gave your all to push the man as far from yourself as possible.

Unfortunately, your noodle arms could only do so much for your freedom.

‘Hm, you smell so good,’ the man’s nose grazed along your jawline, his mouth attached to the juncture between your shoulder and the base of your neck.

You started to hit his upper arms with your fists, but your grunts and painful groans seemed to only fuel his excitement. You tried not to think of what was brushing against your lower abdomen when he pressed you against the wall with his body.

Even though a rational part of you doubted that anyone would have come to your rescue if you had screamed loud enough, your survival instincts knew no logic when you cried for help from the top of your lungs. You called for the owner, you called for your brother, Yeonjun, Wooyoung, anybody. You were sobbing and begging and all your assaulter had to say was:

‘You’re so pretty when you’re crying.’

You didn’t know when you had started dissociating from reality, whether you had done so to save yourself or you had been just too tired. Anyhow, in one moment the man sneaked his hand under your clothes, torn fabric hanging on your body haphazardly, then someone lifted you off the floor, mumbling reassuring words into your ear.

‘I’ve got you. I’m sorry we were so late. I should have never let this get this far. I’m sorry,’ he said and you just hummed, too exhausted to speak.

With your head against his chest, the darkness didn’t scare you. You let it embrace you and lull you into a dreamless sleep.

You woke up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, but before you could have freaked out, your gaze fell on a pair of rounded glasses sitting on an adorable nose, a pair of chocolate eyes filled with worry, relief and guilt and a pair of pouty lips that put heart was at ease. You were with Yeonjun. You were safe.

‘Hey, shh! It’s okay, it’s okay. You would never have to see him again, we made sure of it,’ he said, reaching out to the apple of your cheek to wipe the tear off your face even though you wouldn’t have been able to point out when you had started to cry or why you were crying. ‘Is it okay if I touch you?’ He asked for your permission and you nodded, melting under the soft touch of his fingertip. He touched you like you were fragile, like you could have broken the moment he looked in the other direction and maybe he was right. Maybe a part of you was broken because why else would you have been crying if not from the mental wounds that disgusting man had inflicted on your soul.

‘I was so scared,’ you sobbed, ignoring the dull headache in your temples, so that you could sit up and pull Yeonjun close. You hid your face in his neck, welcoming his protective, strong arms around your petite figure.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he repeated, over and over like a mantra until your tears waned and your body wasn’t shaking anymore.

You fell asleep without meaning to.

You woke up two more times before you had enough energy to get out of bed, but none of your sleeps took longer than four hours. Your entire being was tired, but your body couldn’t rest; it wasn’t even about your dreams. When awake, your brain was too mushy to reproduce your nightmares. If not for the angry red scratches on your lower arm and neck, you would have assumed you had slept like a stone, completely unmoving. 

‘Look who’s here! The Sleeping Beauty,’ Wooyoung exclaimed when you showed up at the top of the stairs, looking down at the interior of the diner that had been your safe place in the last couple of weeks. There were so many people inside. A lot more than you had ever seen in the building.

Offering the boy a small albeit genuine smile, you grabbed the handrail and descended the stairs, perfectly aware of the moment Yeonjun realised his best friend was talking about you. Not because your gut feeling had never failed you before or because you had never made a mistake in your life when reading other people, but because he made it so obvious, snapping his head in your direction and standing up from his chair abruptly as soon as his eyes found you.

‘Hi,’ you whispered when Yeonjun was in front of you, your throat still a bit itchy from all that crying and screaming.

‘You should rest,’ he said, lifting his eyebrows as an indication that he wanted you to go back to his room.

You shook your head.

‘Don’t send me away, please,’ you insisted and he sighed, defeated, when his best friend’s steps came to a halt by your side.

Wooyoung ruffled your already messy hair and gave the other man a glance that you couldn’t have seen, only its consequences: the small twitch of Yeonjun’s lips, his shoulders falling a tad forwards, the light in his eyes burning with the force of a thousand suns. He brushed his friend’s hand off you and held his own out for you.

You took it without hesitation.

Leaving a chuckling Wooyoung behind, he led you towards the backdoor, but didn’t sit down by the makeshift table in the small street behind the diner like he had done the first time you had come here. Instead, he pulled you towards a metal ladder on the right side of the building and nudged you to go first, so that he could have caught you if you had slipped.

Admittedly, you were nervous, but you didn’t fall.

‘Come, sit with me. Here!’ Yeonjun encouraged you to sit on the edge of the roof right next to him and you once again did what he said because his contentment made you happy. You looked at the small package that he pulled out of his inner pocket, the small bites of yakgwa wrapped in his handkerchief mouth-watering.

‘Is there a celebration down there? There are a lot of people here tonight,’ you inquired as you took a piece of honey biscuit into your hand and lifted it to your lips. It tasted delicious.

‘Hn. You can call it a celebration, I think,’ he agreed, munching on a yakgwa of his own, not taking his eyes off you even though the sight in front of you and right beneath your swinging legs was beautiful. As a singer who worked at night, you had already seen this side of the capital city numerous times, but the nightlife from above was breathtaking in a different way. People drinking happily on the terrace, people passing by: it was like a scene straight out of one of your favourite romance books.

‘What’s the occasion?’ You wondered aloud, unsure how long you had been unconscious or whether there was a national holiday you had forgotten about. Or was this an anniversary, a birthday of someone from the boys’ circles?

‘Taking Nishiki out of the picture, it was a huge step forwards,’ Yeonjun explained shortly, in no way going into details about what he had meant by taking the Japanese man out of which picture exactly. Suddenly, his promise of you never having to see your assaulter again came to your mind and you gulped, anxious due to the implication.

You dug your round nails into your palm to anchor yourself. So what if they had locked him up somewhere where none of his subordinates could have found him? What if they had hit him for information and for what he had done to you? It wasn’t like he would have let you go if you had asked him to stop touching you. His no deserved to not be heard, too.

You didn’t realise just how hard you were pressing your nails into your flesh until Yeonjun took your hands in his and forced your fists open. The tiny, crescent-shaped crevices in your palms remained visible after the first couple of seconds.

You shivered when he grazed his fingertips along the wounds, his touch light as a feather. 

‘It’s all thanks to you,’ he whispered, eyes bright but undecipherable while he was drawing calming, non-figurative patterns on your skin the entire time.

Your cheeks were heating up under Yeonjun’s undivided attention, your heart pounding with a new level of intensity when letting go of your left hand, he brushed a stray lock behind your ear. It might have been your imagination, but you swore it felt like he lingered longer than it was strictly necessary.

You closed your eyes on instinct, anticipation growing in your chest, pale lips parting slightly. The last person who had kissed you had ruined many first things for you, but at that moment all you could think about was Yeonjun beside you: his hand cupping one side of your face, his rolled up sleeves, his pouty lips. You wondered how the latter would have felt against yours. Would they have brought back horrible memories or erased them effortlessly?

‘So cute,’ he mumbled so close, so super close to your face that you could not only hear him perfectly, but feel his warm breath fanning over your skin.

Yeonjun’s lips were pillowy against yours, tentative, gentle. He made no attempt at forcing his way into your mouth, he was merely nipping on your chapped lower lip as though that was enough. It wasn’t, not really, but you were still grateful for his consideration and decided not to push, either.

Under the starlight, breathing in Yeonjun until your lungs were on fire, you started to dream of an independent country, too, sharing not only a sweet kiss with the activist but ambitions and goals. A peaceful fantasy of a future together.

Although you hadn’t participated in the party the night before, at least not longer than a few minutes that you had spent with Wooyoung and a pretty girl named Jungeun while you had been waiting for Yeonjun to grab some more snacks and drinks for the two of you, you had unintentionally stayed until sunrise, then fallen asleep in a comfortable position on Yeonjun’s lap. Therefore, in the morning, on your way home, you were desperately trying to come up with an explanation that could have placated your brother in case he was waiting for you on the couch, furious.

Taking the stairs, you climbed two stairs at a time, then took a step backwards, to not be too fast even though you had been embarrassingly late. You gave yourself a peptalk three times in those ten or so minutes it took you to get to the second floor.

‘Oppa. I am home,’ you mumbled under your nose as you opened, then closed the front door, hoping to find your flat empty. However, what you walked inside for was anything but that or the scary pictures your brain threw at you ever since you had woken up in Yeonjun’s arms.

The living room was a mess and so was the kitchen and every other room you passed by. Like an explosion had been set off in the middle of your home.

‘Taehyung! Oppa! Are you here? Where are you?’ You screamed, running from one room to the other, trying to make sense of the situation while simultaneously, you were desperate to find your brother. You didn’t understand what was happening.

‘Heh-hre.’ A weak sound came from the bathroom and you tore the door open, almost losing your balance due to how dizzy the horrific sight made you. You dropped on your knees and crawled to your brother with tears in your eyes.

‘What… what happened?’ You asked, your trembling hands reaching out to his bloody face. ‘We have to go to the hospital.’

The choked chuckle that bubbled up in his throat tugged on your stomach in the worst way, but you resisted the urge to throw up because it felt like one of those situations where you had to be strong for the other person’s sake. And you loved him so damn much.

‘Bir-dy… you need… get out,’ he said, using his remaining strength to push you away, but you were stubborn and for the first time in your life, stronger than him.

‘No! Come on! You need to see a doctor,’ you insisted and linked your arm with his, so that you could pull him into a standing position before you somehow get him on your back. That was the only way you could imagine yourself carrying him out of the flat, down the stairs and outside of the building to get yourself a taxi.

‘Get… out!’ Taehyung pleaded, but you brushed his concerns aside and gritted your teeth. He was heavy. He was half-unconscious and white like the wall in your living room. You had to put all of his weight on your shoulders and you just couldn’t take more than two steps ahead without falling head first on the floor.

You groaned because of the pain.

‘Please,’ you begged, unsure whether the blood on your face was yours or his and whether he heard you at all.

You didn’t know what to do.

‘Oppa, please! We need to go to the hospital. Please,’ you screamed, frantic and then…

Then someone put a musty bag over your head and darkness welcomed you as soon as you felt a sharp pain in your nape.

Admittedly, you could be a little naive sometimes. Your father liked to tell you that you were too innocent for this world, but you weren’t stupid. You knew the moment you came back to your senses, tied to a wooden chair, facing two mean-looking men in similar uniforms to the one chief officer Nishiki had always worn, that they wouldn’t let you walk away unharmed even if you had told them everything. So you promised yourself that you would be strong.

It took you three days of constant psychological and physical torture in a dark room with no windows to wish you were dead. It took another two to completely lose hope.

Another week’s worth of rock-hard bread was served to you by the time these ruthless men, who found joy in your tears, deemed you utterly useless.

‘From now on, no more food for this one,’ one of the Japanese said, his tone unamused and nonchalant before he left the room with his lackeys on his heels.

You turned around on the floor where you had been shoved and pressed your burning face against the bloody albeit cool concrete. The pleasant change in temperature coaxed a pleased moan out of your throat. 

Floating in and out of consciousness, you stared at the dirty wall in front of you. You didn’t want to think about what was happening in the outside world, yet you did so nevertheless because the more one wished to shut out a thought, the more it stuck. You wondered whether Yeonjun was okay. Had your brother gotten to the hospital in time? Had anyone noticed that you were gone?

You hit the concrete with your pulsing fist. At least two of your fingers were broken and your nail was missing from one because of one of the very first interrogations you had been put through. You were pretty sure it had gotten infected and not just that, but several other scars on your body.

You felt so tired, so exhausted. You prayed that this time it would finally come to an end. The pain, the heartache.

In your dreams, you were happier.

In your dreams, Yeonjun came for you and saved you. He took you to your brother and both of you healed from your traumas slowly but steadily.

In your dreams, Yeonjun not only found you, but also pulled you close as you were watching the Japanese flags go up in flames all around the city.

In your dreams, you won.

Delirious, you turned your head towards your cell’s door when it opened, your chest being filled with a scene of eternal peace as you were staring at the person who was looking down at you from the threshold. At that moment, you felt it in your guts that this was it, that no harm would come to your way anymore.

the end.

#yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x you #txt scenarios #historical au #ssbyme #txt angst #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun angst

[toki-is-the-king]

Skwistok one shot

Summary: Skwisgaar and Toki are both drunk, sad, and horny. Pretty much it. Lots of angst, sexual tension, and mentions unprocessed trauma. Angst/fluff

Rating: Mature

TW for sexual themes, alcohol and ptsd.

Sometimes Skwisgaar hated drinking. He couldn’t say it out loud or the guys would crucify him, but it made him feel things. Things he didn’t want to feel or think about. Getting drunk was great, when he was in a good mood and wanted to party or fuck some groupies, but Toki’s whole ordeal with his dead dad and his fucked up family had Skwisgaar reminiscing on his own past, and it was shit. He couldn’t even recognize how he was feeling, it was just too much, and he hated the emptiness in his chest, like a black hole sucking the life out of him. Maybe it was just this shitty beer, but he wasn’t feeling his usual confident self, right now he just wanted to wallow in self pity. It was probably the alcohol, he reminded himself, still, he didn’t like feeling this torn up over his past or remembering how his skank mother was never there for him. He was in a bad mood. It was fucking gross and weird.

“Hey dood! Me and Nat’n are gonna go drink in the hot tub if you wanna join!”

Nathan was already taking his clothes off, bumbling around with his pants down around his ankles. “HEY. I’m gonna fucking drink this tequila, alright Pickles?!”

Skwisgaar cringed at the thought of being in the hot tub with Nathan after a bottle of tequila. He hadn’t noticed that he’d gone temporarily catatonic in his drunken state, unaware he was slipping into the uncharted depths of his mind, until an even more drunk Pickles waved a hand in front of his face. Skwisgaar might’ve been under the influence, but he could put on his usual stoic demeanor when needed.

“Eugh…dat ams tempting but I uh, was thinkings maybes…I ams just practices guitar instead.”

Pickles was grinning stupidly and just gave a half assed thumbs up, “whatever you say dood.”

“Oh schit, I wanna come too!”

Murderface yelled, jumping up from the chair he’d been stabbing away at for the past hour. He was just as wasted as Pickles and Nathan, who were already snickering after leaving him behind. Murderface chased after them with his open pocketknife, swearing he’d cut their eyes out if they excluded him. The door to the living room area slammed shut and the three guys could be heard shouting over each other about who got to choose a movie.

It didn’t take long before Skwisgaar got the eerie feeling of being watched.

“So you’s just goings to practice your guitars? Dats cool! Cans I watch?”

Before Skwisgaar could interject, or at least act like he wanted to, Toki was tripping over his feet and heading towards the couch where Skwisgaar sat, guitar in his lap.

“Uh…shores…I guess dats fine.”

“I promiskes I just sits and bes queit! You-“ Toki hiccuped, taking a swig from his red solo cup, “you not evens know I’s here.”

Skwisgaar sighed, readjusting the position of his guitar. In some way he was relieved to have been pulled from the thoughts of his whore mom, but now he was dragged into another pit of thoughts and feelings to focus on. He and Toki’s friendship had been a little strained as of recently, with Toki’s dad dying and all that mess. It was bothering Skwisgaar, but he did nothing about it. He found it best to just ignore his problems and maybe they’d disappear, but that wouldn’t work when the problem was sitting right in front of him, wide eyed, smiling and giggling like a schoolgirl. Toki flopped down onto his stomach, resting his cheek against his palm, swinging his feet back and forth like he always did.

“Goes on, plays something!” Toki insisted, his voice screeching and high pitched. Skwisgaar only grimaced, realizing now that his five beers were probably the cause of this oncoming headache, or maybe it was Toki. As much as he liked both of them, beer and Toki had a way of giving Skwisgaar an unforgiving migraine. Why couldn’t the guy just keep his mouth shut for five seconds so Skwisgaar could secretly admire him and then loathe him in the same thought?

“Plays da guitarssss!” Toki screeched, ear piercing enough to shatter the windows.

“I can’ts plays while you ams starings at me likes dat!”

Toki only erupted into laughter, spitting his drink everywhere and onto the other man’s boots. Skwisgaar scowled at him, his annoyance causing his fingers to strum away at his guitar furiously.

“You knows I could totallies kicks you in de face right now if I wants to…”

“Does it! I wants a footprints on my face! HA!” The brunette smashed his face against the blond’s boot, grabbing the older man’s foot and jerking it around as if he was trying to pull his shoe off. Toki was way too fucking drunk to be enjoyable anymore and it was only thinning Skwisgaar’s patience. Sure, they all drank way too much, but lately Toki had been so wasted it was concerning. And over what? His asshole dad? That didn’t seem like an excuse to Skwisgaar…or maybe it was, and he was just too unfeeling. Skwisgaar just knew that he was overwhelmed too and yes, he bottled everything up anyway, but when Toki wasn’t rolling on the floor wasted out of his mind, they had a decent friendship. At least Skwisgaar didn’t feel so lonely when he could actually talk to Toki. It was nearly impossible to have a conversation with Toki lately and it sucked. Well- it was hard to have a conversation with him in general, he was childish, whiny, had the attention span of a five year old- but at least he was interested in what Skwisgaar was saying. But this time around there was something about Toki’s obliviousness that had Skwisgaar overly frustrated, more than usual. Whenever Skwisgaar felt he was being ignored, that his presence was being disregarded, he felt disrespected. Discarded. It gave him flashbacks of being a stupid unwanted kid who was unloved and neglected. Call it narcissistic if you will, that Skwisgaar shut down anytime his ego was slightly threatened, but it wasn’t necessarily his fault. He didn’t know how to respond to perceived rejection other than getting angry.

“Tokis if you’s not stops dis drinkings nonskense then I just goes to my room and nots talks to you.”

“But you’s drinking too!”

“Nots drinkings like how you’s does! Fucks dis, I goes to my room.” Skwisgaar grabbed the neck of his guitar, steadying himself to his feet. Everything was spinning and he was entering the part of being drunk where you begin to feel sick if you stop drinking to keep the momentum going.

“No! Please, donts leaves me alone, Skwisgaar! Please!” Toki stumbled up from the floor, pushing Skwisgaar back onto the couch more roughly than he’d intended to. The blond scowled, jerking his guitar towards himself to block Toki from falling all over him. His attempt to put space between himself and Toki was proving to be in vain, and Toki who was getting oddly frantic, had the nerve toss Skwisgaar’s precious guitar to the floor.

“Eugh, Tokis gets you hands off me! And fuckings be careful with my guitars damnit!”

“Please donts leaves me, I’m sorries! I behaves, I promiskes!”

“No gets out of my way!”

“I’ll does anything if you stays, Skwisgaar, please! I’ll evens sucks your dick, I’ll does anything!”

Skwisgaar paused, eyeing Toki skeptically, who was on his knees, hands clasped together as if he were praying. “Dat ams…reallys…gays…But you knows, we ams…both sooo hammered it could happens and no one’s could blame us.”

“Yeah! We ams both reallys hammered! No one cans blames us!” Toki said, slurring his speech. He was so dizzy he was seeing double.

Skwisgaar slowly relaxed against the couch, arms at his sides. Toki hastily climbed onto his lap, feeling a surge of heat rush to his face. Skwisgaar smirked, using his thumb to tilt Toki’s chin up as he tried to glance away. Toki hadn’t really thought this through, sometimes he just blurted out whatever came to mind. He’d actually never given a blow job before or sat in Skwisgaar’s lap like this.

“gör jag dig nervös?” Skwisgaar mumbled, his melancholic mood dissipating. Sexual tension was a promising escape from reality.

The younger man’s breathing quickened, his index finger entering his mouth as began to chew his nails. Skwisgaar’s eyes flickered from Toki’s parted lips, then to his chest. The younger man was breathing deeply, chest rising and falling beneath his baggy shirt. The room was so quiet you could almost hear the pounding of Toki’s heart against his chest.

“Well…dis was easy ways to gets you too shuts up, heuh?”

Toki remained silent, peering through his lashes, chewing his nails. He didn’t know how to tell Skwisgaar he wasn’t sure what move to make or what to do. He’d never felt this way around anyone before. This was the closest he’d gotten to intimacy yet, and it was with the sex god himself, so of course it made him panic. He didn’t want to embarrass himself further by confessing this, so he just stayed quiet.

“Before yous not shuts up, now I can’ts gets you to says no’tings?” Skwisgaar mused, resting his hands on the other’s hips firmly, digging his nails into his sides.

“Jeg…vet ikke hva jeg skal gjøre...” Toki whispered shyly, his gaze shifting from the floor to meet Skwisgaar’s piercing blue eyes. Shivers ran down his spine from the way Skwisgaar was looking at him, smirking, in control.

“You doesn’t haves to does nothings…let’s me goes first, ja?”

Toki perked up, the playful gleam in his eyes returning. He nodded, snuggling against the other’s chest like a cat, closing his eyes as if he might drift off to sleep. “I just rests my head and you goes first.”

Skwisgaar quirked an eyebrow, “ah, Tokis…We’s can does dis gay cuddling bullshits later…if you wants to…but I thoughts we does something else likes what you saids before-“

Skwisgaar sighed, seeing as Toki was too anxious or too drunk to put in much effort, he’d need to get him just a little worked up. His dick wasn’t going to suck itself, and he’d already tried and failed at sucking his own dick anyway.The older man began kissing down the younger’s neck, deciding to be an asshole and suck a hickey right under his jawline. With that, Toki’s eyes popped open again. Skwisgaar wasn’t expecting to have the other man moaning this early on but he was skilled at his craft. He’d never heard such desperation aside from those five dollar hookers he fucked last week.

“You likes dat?” The blond breathed out, lips trailing along the other’s neck, his skin warm and slightly sweaty. Skwisgaar got off on making people nervous, so this only fueled him to keep going, sucking and nipping at the skin until he could feel the familiar sensation of a boner pressing against his thigh. It wasn’t his own this time.

“You ams pathetisks…you knows dat?” He chuckled, keeping one hand on Toki’s hip and letting the other wander down the bulge on the front of the younger man’s pants. He gave a light squeeze, earning another defeated moan.

“H-how’s you knows how to do this?” Toki asked, and it came out as more of a whimper than he intended. He’d only barely hooked up with anyone at this point, he was too nervous. Skwisgaar made it seem so easy. Maybe he could get the hang of it someday.

“I literallys fucks de sluts brains out all days till I get bored, I knows what I’s doing.”

Skwisgaar slipped his hand in Toki’s pants just to toy with him, waiting until the other man got desperate enough to beg for it. But Toki was incompetent about foreplay or anything sex related, and grew impatient fairly quickly, rocking his hips against Skwisgaar’s to get some type of friction going. This only amused Skwisgaar and he retracted his hand to tease him. Toki whimpered again, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

“Why’s you stop?” He hiccuped a few times, words slurred and messy. He leaned in to kiss Skwisgaar in hopes of getting him to continue. Skwisgaar merely smirked, motioning to the other.

“Because it ams yours turn.”

Again, Toki looked anxious and shy but made the next move despite it, connecting their lips in a sloppy fashion, clinking their teethed together in the process. It wasn’t nearly as graceful as Skwisgaar would’ve anticipated, but he didn’t mind. He was just satisfied with whatever this was.

“You tastes likes vodka.” Skwisgaar muttered, leaning back to break the kiss after a few moments.

“Yeps I beens drinkings it all day. Okays Toki’s turns again!” Toki leaned in and kissed the other’s neck, trying to copy what was done to him. It wasn’t for very long, and he clearly lacked experience, but it was something at least. The kissing didn’t last and before he knew it Skwisgaar yelped in surprise, leaving Toki giggling and trying to bite him again. Toki couldn’t remain serious when he was drunk if his life depended on it.

“Tokis! You cants just fucking bites peoples!”

Toki pursed his lips, pouting, and Skwisgaar wanted to smack him. This was the weirdest, if you could even call it sexual, encounter he’d had, and he’d had “several thouskands”.

Skwisgaar rubbed his neck, visibly irritated. “Is dis what’s you does to the ladies? Who tells you dis is good? I gots to teach you’s a things or two.”

“I…never reallys does much with the goils…but oh yeah they loves it…Oh man, I can’t lies to you no more, I reallys don’t knows what I ams doing!!!” After his outburst there was more silence and Toki was radiating with embarrassment, his hands were trembling and he looked like he might cry. He couldn’t find the right words to express it so he’d sound cool, but there was no cool way to do it, so he forced himself to say it and get it over with.

“I nevers reallys…dones this yet…evens with the ladies…”

“vänta, är du oskuld, Toki?”

“…Ja…”

Skwisgaar exhaled deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to think Toki wasn’t still a virgin. Upon this realization, this could be excruciatingly difficult because Toki was absolutely clueless.

“I’m sorries! I just wants to bes likes you! I just wants you to likes me! I fucks everything up-“

Skwisgaar cut off the beginning tantrum with a swift kiss, pulling the other man in closer. He managed to lay him on his back, situating himself to straddle the younger man’s waist. He’d have to take the lead, but that was fine, and for once Toki didn’t seem to mind that Skwisgaar had the upper hand. He was just pleased with the kissing and the way Skwisgaar was grinding against him, pleasuring him. It was like a dream. This was way better than jacking off, Toki thought, and he understood a bit more now why the ladies loved the lead guitarist so much.

“S-Skwisgaar I…”

“Shhh…donts says nothing, just lets me dos it…” the blond whispered, cupping a hand over the other man’s mouth, suppressing another loud moan from escaping. Toki couldn’t stop whimpering and squirming underneath him, and it was driving the older man crazy. He never would have imagined he’d be into this- not just the gay stuff, but dry humping his band mate, relishing in the presence of seeing Toki helpless and flustered at his disposal. Skwisgaar pressed a wet kiss to Toki’s jawline as he began to undo his belt, yanking the front of his pants down. He hoped it wasn’t too far, that didn’t show how badly he wanted the rhythm guitarist, but Toki didn’t seem to notice, face scrunched up in pleasure.Through panting and shaky fingers, Skwisgaar finally got his belt loose, and then undid the front of Toki’s jeans, smirking at the hard on in his boxers. There was no way they’d be able to talk their way out of this if the rest of Dethklok walked in, so Skwisgaar knew he needed to act fast. He wished they were already undressed, but he’d change that quickly. He slid a hand under Toki’s shirt, hands roaming his chiseled body. He’d seen it a million times when they were in the hot tub but when Skwisgaar went to pull the shirt off, Toki grasped his wrist tightly, eyes wide and pleading, his writhing body going stiff.

“Waits-“

“What’s you wants now?!”

“Maybes I leaves my shirts on?”

“Whys?”

“It’s…colds in here…”

“Toki’s we ams both sweating unside of each others bodies, it ams not cold.”

“Makes a promisk you wonts says nothings?”

“Okay okay I promiskes! You ams makings dis what’s supposed to be easy over complicaskied!”

Toki relaxed again, loosening the death grip on Skwisgaar’s wrist, allowing him to pull his shirt off over his head. He frowned, peering up at the blond, hesitantly, like he expected to repulse him. A shameful blush coated his cheeks, and he turned his face towards the back of the couch, biting his lip.

Skwisgaar didn’t notice anything different than usual and was confused, equally annoyed and sexually frustrated.

“You’s looks de same as always. Cans I fucks you now? I’m startings to get bored.”

Toki stayed silent, simply nodding, lying flat against the couch, hands clumsily grabbing at Skwisgaar’s waist to hold onto as the blond began to palm at Toki’s hard on, causing the brunette to groan. Everything was spinning now, and he really wished he had taken it slow with the vodka. Despite the kissing and fondling each other, he was struggling to keep up the same pace as before. Toki felt a burning in the back of his throat and his stomach was churning, he felt sick, his day of binge drinking straight vodka was catching up to him. He might puke. He felt so guilty and stupid. Any fan girl would sell her soul and tits just to be in Toki’s position right now, underneath the famous lead guitarist, but Toki just felt awkward and sad; he was so nauseous he wasn’t sure if he could even enjoy this now. Skwisgaar felt like he was making out with a corpse the way Toki just laid there, limp and not moving, no longer responding to the advances he made. Eventually Toki was just staring into nothing like he was having an out of body experience and Skwisgaar was finally weirded out to the point that he stopped trying to satisfy his sexual desires.

“Toki it feels like I ams doesing alls de work-“

“Ams sorry… I just thinks how…I wishes my dads nevers beats me all those times…I cants do this…” Toki sighed casually, as if he hadn’t just said something incredibly fucked up.

Skwisgaar felt as if his dick retracted into itself at hearing this and Toki had officially ruined the moment. The sexual tension between them had faded and now there was just an awkwardness hovering in the air. Skwisgaar’s demeanor changed instantly, suddenly feeling guilty and wrong about this whole incident.

“Maybes…we does this another times then, ja?” Skwisgaar suggested, climbing off of Toki and crossing his arms like he does when something makes him uncomfortable. He zipped up his pants and stared at the wall, trying to conceal that he was disappointed and humiliated. He had never been turned down like this, and it was bothering him.

“Yeps…I likes to does this again…for nows cans…cans you’s just holds my hand?”

Skwisgaar wanted to refuse and say that was too gay for words, but he’d almost had gay sex with Toki so this was the least of his concerns at the moment, and it eased some of the guilt he felt for taking advantage of Toki’s vulnerability. Sure they were both intoxicated, but as Skwisgaar thought about it, Toki was way more fucked up.

“Ja…I cans does dat…” the blond pushed aside his ego and conflicting feelings, kneeling beside the couch and taking Toki’s hand in his. It made no sense to him why he was the one blushing now. He could have sex for hours but the moment it came to all that mushy stuff like hand holding and cuddling, it made him want to explode.

“I’m sorry I’s fucks this up.”

“You didn’ts it ams fine, Toki.”

. . .

“Skwisgaar…?”

“Ja?”

“ hvor lang tid tar det før arrene forsvinner..?”

“I doesn’t…knows about…dats Toki.”

“I just wonders…maybes someday they will goes away… by the times we’s does this again…”

“You’s… thinks I ams bothered by the scars?” Skwisgaar frowned, feeling the strings of his heart being tugged at. Did he really come off as someone that cruel? He needed to work on himself.

“I knows they ams not pretty…liker det du er vant til med damene.” Toki half shrugged, eyelids growing heavy as he yawned through another non-comprehensive response of Norwegian and English. He was ready to pass out.

“Tokis…I doesn’t cares bout dat…I just likes…to bes with you.” Skwisgaar admitted, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. Finally he got that out.

“I likes to bes with you too, Skwisgaar.” Toki smiled warmly, eyes still closed.

Skwisgaar was relieved Toki was so out of it otherwise he might bring up the fact his face was red and that he was being nice instead of throwing insults.

“I thinks I just falls asleep here…good nights.” Toki yawned, voice muffled by the way his face was smashed against the couch. He rolled onto his stomach and nuzzled his head into the cushions. Despite being so muscular, he looked so small and fragile, like a young boy rather than a man. It was disturbingly sad and made Skwisgaar swallow a lump in his throat he didn’t know was there. He squeezed Toki’s hand, waiting until he’d fallen asleep to press a soft kiss to it. The older man didn’t know where all of this sudden gentleness had come from, so he just blamed it on the alcohol, not wanting to admit how he felt. He could make out faint scarring on the other man’s hand, his eyes scanning Toki’s scarred shoulders, the worst spot being his back. His gaze wandered from there and to his friend’s upper biceps that were also littered with nasty scars. Skwisgaar had obviously seen the scars before, but he’d never paid much attention to them or questioned why they were there were there; he’d never really bothered to look at them this closely or cared to. He instantly felt like shit for being so angry at Toki lately. He wondered how many years' worth of scars there were. They were deep and harsh, like they were meant to inflict torturous amounts of pain, to disfigure him, make him feel worthless and ugly. The scars appeared as though they’d never fade, and they probably wouldn’t. Skwisgaar swallowed again, feeling nauseated, trying to adjust to the sickening feeling in his stomach when he recalled the recent trip to Norway. No wonder Toki had been drinking. He was glad Toki’s fucking dad was dead, though he’d never say it out loud. Skwisgaar gently reached up and rested his free hand on Toki’s back, fighting back the urge to rip his arm away because he was so uncomfortable showing affection and physical contact outside of sex made him cringe, but he fought through the urge and stroked Toki’s back, slender fingers tracing over the rugged scars that Toki was ashamed of. He finally sat on the floor, listening to the other snore faintly, praying he didn’t eventually puke on him or that the rest of the band didn’t see this. Didn’t see him this way.

“Good nights, Toki…I stays right here.”

#dethklok #metalocalypse #skwistok #toki wartooth #skwisgaar skwigelf #writing dump #trying to get back into writing #angst and feels #smut and fluff #ptsd #kinda sad #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #william murderface #fanfic #fan fic stuff #dethklok fanfic #I think our Toki alter influenced this ngl #osdd fictive

[dilutedconfusion]

“I don’t know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.”

HELLO and welcome to my blog. I’m finally making one of these things so people can access my stuff easier so pls enjoy. My name is Alicia and I’m 19 and full of existential dread. I like One Piece (if that wasn’t already readily apparent) and that’s what this blog is mainly about!

Just for a few facts about me I’m going to college for a degree in graphic design (I’m in my first year so I’m still a baby), I’m real big on metal, rock, and folk music (the palette goes deeper then that but those are my mains), and if you want me to beat somebody up for you I’m the first person you should call <3 <3

I make art and I write so expect both of that splattered across this blog. I usually post art surrounding One Piece or more specifically the Kid Pirates. But I’m probably going to post some personal works as well.

I’m currently writing “A Moth to a Flame” which is my multipart Eustass Kid x Female!Reader series. Though I have some other multichapter stuff I’m working on as well. But of course it will most likely be Kid Pirates related because they bounce around in head like a bag of marbles.

A Moth to a Flame

Eustass Kid X Female!Reader (A whole lotta plot, slow-burn edition)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Lost Star

Eustass Kid X Female!Reader (Angst and Giggles)

Part 1 Part 2

The Nameless

Eustass Kid X Female!Reader (SoftYandere!Kid)

Part 1

WEE WOO🚨 WEE WOO 🚨 ALERT INCOMING

REQUESTS: OPEN

I KNOW I KNOW. Alicia doing requests? CRAZY. But umm yea if any of y’all wanna hear me yap or use my skills to cook ya up something I’m down.

Rules for Requests:

Kid Pirates related (but I might broaden my horizons later who knows??)

No NSFW related requests (I might one day but not rn)

I accept any one shot ideas, x reader (personalized to the person requesting or non specific), imagines, and headcannon blurbs you might want me to talk about.

I am not SUPER into certain ships outside of the Kid Pirates and because of that I feel like I won’t do them justice if they are requested. But if you want (Kid Pirate Member) x (Non Kid Pirate Member) I’m down to try.

As for one shots you can ask for any gender! I’m comfortable doing male, female, or gender neutral pronouns.

OC x Canon (just give me like a description of your OC and I can rock with dat)

Platonic or Romantic relationships (I mainly just say that because I feel like fanfics are usually inherently romantic but they don’t have to be!)

I’m comfortable with writing different AU’s, slight gore, stomach wrenching angst, and darker topics such as violent relationships/yandere trope.

If you have very obscure or just emotionally rooted ideas I can work with those too! You don’t have to give me a well thought out prompt to receive good writing! I might as well be a improv master.

#alicia asks stupid questions #alicia requests #uhhh yeah I’m like cool or whatever