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#some of these have like joking answers but some tug at the heartstrings and yeah
ketchup-monthly · 2 years
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Lanternfam’s favorite scary/Halloween movies:
with help by the lovely @space-specs
Hal- Rocky Horror Picture Show (he has a Dr Frank-N-Furter costume somewhere in his closet that he plans to wear for some League Halloween party)(specs and i are hardcore projecting genderfluid Hal hcs onto this)(he also knows how to dance the Time Warp)
Guy- Halloween (he is mad about the reboot and how the lighting has made the movie kinda worse. like he has no problem with the fact that they're making the new movie, and he isn't into how movies are really directed in any way, but even he is mad about the lighting)
John- Beetlejuice (it's a classic and Michael Keaton and the rest of the all-star cast do so well in it. he is also a fan of the musical)
Kyle- Coraline (the art style is so good and he definitely was terrified of it until he watched it and then he was fine with it. he definitely uses it to scare the senior lanterns tho)(dude it fucked me up. he'd be all over that -ketchup)
Jess- Casper (she liked it as a kid because it was about a connection that she wanted when she was younger that she didn't really have. plus it's a really sweet movie)(note: neither of us have seen it)
Simon- Paranorman (it's a good movie about seeing the truth of people, more than just what you see on the outside or in your expectations about them. and the art style is really unique and good and yeah. vibes, man)
Jo- Train to Busan (it's got a lot of complex messages in it and yeah. zombie apocalypse movies scary)
Keli- Texas Chainsaw Massacre (it fits. no i will not elaborate. -ketchup)
Alan- Young Frankenstein ("it has Gene Wilder in it, and gay people like Gene Wilder, right? i mean, i'm gay, and i like Gene Wilder. Gene Wilder is for the gays and i said so" -specs)(let the record state that ketchup also loves this movie and also really freaking loves Alan Scott and approves wholeheartedly)
Carol- Hocus Pocus (she dressed up as one of the Sanderson Sisters for Halloween last year)("she is a Sanderson sisters fan, and i mean in the bisexual way" -specs)
Kilowog- Little Shop of Horrors (he would get a kick out of the giant man-eating plant and the protagonist just being a little guy(tm))(plus the songs are really catchy and when Hal and Guy showed it to him, both of them were singing and quoting along, so its a movie that holds a special place in his heart)
Razer- Addams Family Values (he appreciates Wednesday's homicidal tendencies a lot. also his family is a little kooky, and the Addams family is a little kooky and crazy and he likes it)("...so basically, what i’m saying, is that Razer is a Wednesday Addams kinnie" -specs)
Thaal- The Blair Witch Project (he fell victim to its trappings and he thinks that it's real. he keeps trying to convince Hal to go ghost hunting with him. Hal keeps refusing and telling him that ghosts probably don't exist but Thaal refuses to listen.)
B'dg- Over The Hedge (the Verminator is scary.)
Helen- Halloweentown ("its the closest Disney gets to weirdgirl-core, and that’s her vibe" -specs)("yes Helen is not a lantern but she IS in the lanternfam and deserves to be. fite me" -ketchup)
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b0nten · 6 months
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IT’S YOU AND ME AGAINST THE WORLD (THE CRUEL ONE I’VE DRAGGED YOU INTO)
[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷。 kakucho takes you to meet his family. or, the closest thing he has to one, besides the one made by you two.
[NOTES] ˚⁀➷。 FIRST KAKUCHO FIC WOHOOOOO. timestamps may be a little off so yeah. sorry4dat. anon i hope you like it!
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today is the day.
straightening your clothes with your palms, your eyes scan your body in the mirror.
“i thought i told you something casual was enough?” a shirtless figure emerges from down the hallway of the apartment, toned muscles flexing as he stretches.
“and i thought i told you you should ditch the blue and go natural, kaku.” you sarcastically answer, turning to him.
he’s got an amused expression painted across his face, eyes softly laid on you and mouth corners sewn into a delicate upward smile.
“so you really hate my aegean blue hair that much?” he jokes again, and, as if teleporting himself, emerges from nothing next to you.
“that’s not true, after all, this aegean blue is the one that charmed me the second time around, but your natural hair color is beautiful, and you know that!” by fake-punching his chest you earn a laugh, “i’ll dress casually when you stop dyeing your hair!”
“alright, alright,” he muses, “are you ready to go?”
“shouldn’t you get dressed first, princess?” you question back, stressing the second word and inspecting his ‘outfit’. “you look handsome like this, gotta give it to you, but i’d like ti think i’m the only woman that gets to see you like this.”
“shoot, you’re right.” he laughs as he grabs the neatly laid out shirt from a nearby chair, “what would i do without you?” he asks, awarding you with a forehead kiss.
“go to work half-naked, apparently..” you fake a disapproving head-shake and make way to the door. “i’m gonna wait in the car, try to not be late, please.” you warn, jingling his car keys in your right hand.
“yes ma’am.” kakucho fakes a military greeting rushing to the bathroom to brush his hair.
✣ ✣ ✣
looking at the high building in front of you, you let out a shaky breath.
“you ready?” kaku asks, blue hair shining in the hot summer sun.
in response, you only hum a weak ‘mhm’, accompanied by a slight nod. you ponder — are you really ready? — you know what kakucho does for a job, he’s a mafioso. not only that, but he’s the no. 3 of japan’s most feared crime syndicate. if every single one of his coworkers is as serious as your kaku is whenever he talks business on the phone (which happens very rarely, as he values his time at home and with you more than drug deals and murders) then you’re screwed, to put it lightly.
“hey, c’mon,” he looks at you, face contorting into a goofy grin, “you really don’t have to be nervous. they look scary but each one is dumber than the other, i promise you. you’ll like them, and they’ll like you.”
his reassuring words tug at your heartstrings a bit, and warm your worry-frozen heart just enough to get it to pump blood again. so, you take a deep breath and nod again, only this time, confidently.
“let’s do this.” with the corner of your eye, you see kakucho smile proudly, before stretching out his arm, allowing you to loop your’s through.
you enter the building: the lobby is cool and and feels so much better than the scorching heat of the outside. the decor is nice, it brings a certain richness to the place, with accents of gold and spanish oak and baroque elements here and there. it’s not flashy, and certainly not like any other japanese office tower interior you’ve seen before.
your heels smack against the macael marble as you allow yourself to admire the interior.
“ran redesigned this whole place when we bought it.” having observed you until now, kakucho chimes in with some fun facts.
“he really has the eye for art.” you add, and watch his eyes light up as he presses the elevator button.
“and he’s quite the snob too. god forbid we touch his montblanc pens or he goes apeshit.”
“oh, kaku…” you can only sigh as he bursts out laughing. “i really don’t know what to expect from you guys.”
he calms down his laughter before entering the lift, “and that’s just the beginning.”
the elevator ride is long, their offices being the second to last floor, which is not so bad as kakucho gets to tell you more about the guys.
“the pink mullet with the piercings is sanzu. he’s quite… eccentric, sometimes.. even uhm..” kaku swallows, uncertain if he should say more, but sure enough that this slip-up may cause you some fright.
“sometimes what, kakucho?” you urge him to continue his sentence.
“well, he can be scary or creepy sometimes. but just sometimes. other than that, he’s a dumbass.” your boyfriend scratches the back of his head, almost relieved. “he’s also no. 2.
as you know, I, your handsome boyfriend is no. 3, while the advisor is takeomi, sanzu’s brother. he really likes trench coats for some reason, so he’ll probably be wearing one today. he’s got a long scar on the right side of his face. oh, yeah, and sanzu also has two scars at the corners of his lips.”
“two down, five more to go, including montblanc guy.” you comment, leaving kakucho somewhat surprised.
“ye— wait, how do you know?” confused, his head darts in your direction.
“by paying attention to your phone calls, during conversations and doing some simple maths.” you reply, sarcastically.
“oh, my beloved einstein.” he kisses the crown of your head gently, “yeah, we have montblanc guy, ran, and his younger brother rindou. ran has short hair, black and pink and rindou also has a mullet, blue and purple. and they both have the tattoo on their necks.
then there’s mochi. well behaved guy, but his beard almost makes him look like an npc or the daiso version of a pimp. he’s the guy with the jumbo dumplings i told you about!”
“oh, that’s mochi! good to know, good to know!” you reply, just as excited as he is.
“and last but not least we have koko. he’s got really long blonde hair and a… unique hairstyle. his tattoo is on his head.
i think that makes them all.”
“are you not forgetting someone?” you quirk up a brow and kakucho mimics you. “maybe… that mikey guy? your leader?” you finally ask, long pauses between each word.
“it’ll be easy for you to see which one’s mikey once he enters the room. but don’t be fooled! he’s tougher than he looks.”
you nod and run through the information one last time before the elevator light pings and the door opens. you step onto a soft carpet, kakucho right next to you, eager to explain more about his workplace.
“we each have our own offices but usually meet in the conference room, where we do most of the work. for separate tasks we use our own spaces, tho. mine is… right here!” the turns left and points to a black door. it’s not hard to see it’s his thanks to the nameplate.
“across from mine is sanzu’s and the one behind us is mikey’s. over here is akashi takeomi, just beside the elevator is mochi, across from his is the conference room, and then there’s kokonoi’s, and the haitanis’ offices towards the end of the hall.”
you would’ve liked to see how the offices looked, being sure kakucho’s was just as neat as he keeps the one at home, interested in the older haitani’s the most, to be frank. you could’ve bet money he also took charge of the floor’s design, this time more simple and elegant than the ground one. muted colors, different textures and simple paintings; the guy really seems to know what he’s doing, maybe he should ditch organized crime and do interior design.
“let’s get this over with.” you turn over to kakucho, who’s just looking around, as if it’s also his first time visiting the place. when he hears you, he smiles, and takes small steps toward the conference room, hand still looped through yours.
you un-loop your arm from his, resting it on his shoulder as he opens the door. he enters, aegean fringe bouncing with every small step. you come in just behind him.
analyzing the room, you really can’t believe these are japan’s most feared:
ran is filing his nails. next to him, legs propped up on the table, is his brother, playing a video game on his phone, occasionally hissing as his eyebrows twitch in frustration.
across from them is sanzu, pink mullet covered by a long white towel, dripping on the wool carpet. just beside him is his older brother, takeomi, wearing a tan trench-coat. he’s reading — you rub your eyes to be sure you’re seeing everything exactly as it is — a guide to becoming a multi-millionaire through bitcoin.
mochi is doing paperwork, and koko — god have fucking mercy on their souls — is reading the same book as takeomi.
“can you close the fucking— ” the younger haitani bangs his fists against the table in a fit of rage, freezing completely when he sees you. “oh my god, it’s the lady whose picture he keeps on his desk! KOKO GIVE ME MY FUCKING MONEY YOU MOTHERFUCKER HE HAS AN ACTUAL FUCKING GIRLFRIEND!” he grabs his hair while pushing past every chair to get to the mentioned, disturbing ran in the process.
“rindou, try to look whenever you’re running around like a wild boar, i hurt my nail when you pushed me!” his brother accuses, but rindou is long gone.
when he gets to koko, he’s met with a book in his face.
“i’m not giving you jackshit, bitch!”
“come on man, you can’t go back now! we had a bet!” he whines and pleads, but koko is nowhere near turning his decision around.
all of a sudden, rindou kicks koko’s chair, sending him flying into mochi.
the bearded man looks up from his papers distraught, an evil look in his eyes.
“do you even know how long it took me to convince this corn company to deliver corn directly to my house?” he asks, and both shake their heads no. “do you have any idea how long it took me to write this goddamn ‘thank you’ letter?” he asks again, and they both shake their heads again. “THEN ARE YOU TWO GOING TO WRITE IT AGAIN FOR ME BECAUSE YOU JUST MADE ME THROW AWAY A MONTH’S WORTH OF CALLIGRAPHY CLASSES?” this time, they nod.
from the left, sanzu groans.
“CAN YOU FUCKERS STOP SCREAMING? MY HEADACHE IS GETTING WORSE.” he roars, ripping the towel off his face, ready to jump out of his chair. thankfully, takeomi holds him back.
“i think you should all calm down. this is no way to greet the lady.” he says as he closes his book and stands up, bowing to you from afar. “akashi takeomi, bonten’s advisor. nice to meet you.” he says, smiling slightly.
“thank you takeomi.” kakucho starts “this is y/n, my girlfriend, just like rindou has correctly observed.” he shoots the man a judging look, “we’ve been dating for a little shy of, what? nine years now?” he looks at you and smiles, and you give an approving note, signaling he has gotten the time right, “she wanted to meet you all, so i brought her here.”
he steps forward, stretching out his hand toward you. you take it and follow him, nearing the guys on the left side.
“y/n f/l. nice to meet you, everyone. i hope we can get along well. i heard lots about you.” you take your turn and bow, looking at every single one of the guys as you speak.
every one of them continues with the introduction, except for takeomi, since he had already done it while lecturing the guys.
kakucho pulls a chair out from under the table and gestures you to sit. he sits down next to you and surprisingly, the boys are all eager to talk as soon as they get the possibility to.
rindou and koko apologize for their behavior and you just shrug it off with a laugh, reassuring them smilingly that it was funny. you compliment ran’s interior design skills to which he seems very grateful and laugh with mochi, hinting that you know about the jumbo dumpling incident. sanzu compliments your ear piercing setup and asks you about some more jewelry and you offer to go with him shopping sometime, and bond with takeomi over your shared interest of the sengoku period, finding out that he shares the same birthday with his idol, samurai akechi mitsuhide.
everything is going smoothly, when all of a sudden, the door flies open, every one of the executives jumping up in an instant, with you closely behind. when they bow, you do the same, although you didn’t get to see who came in.
when you all pull your heads up again, the short blonde who has entered looks at you puzzled.
“who are you?” he tilts his head to the left, analyzing you carefully.
“mikey, this is y/n, my girlfriend. i brought her to meet everyone!” kakucho explains instantly, and watches him approach you.
“you… you’re the one … that makes those cute bento boxes for kakucho?” he asks, serious look plastered on his face.
unable to control your excitement for your work being recognized, you beam up, hands clasping each other happily: “yes! that’s me!”
as if he wasn’t the ruthless leader he is, mikey’s eyes widen with the childish love for food he’s had forever.
“do you think…,” he starts off shy, unusual for him, “but only if you have the time, do you think you could also make one for me?” the head of bonten inquires, eagerly awaiting your response.
ever so flattered, you smile so hard you can barely see anymore, screeching out in a delighted tone.
“of course!” you’re amped, ready to cook fifty bento boxes because of how happy you are, “do you have any allergies or themes you like?”
as if having been offered a million dollars, mikey answers you enthusiastically, “i don’t like spicy food, and… i like omurice, and if you could add a mini- flag on top, please…” he says, hands meeting behind his back.
“of course!” you affirm, high on the rush of dopamine and continue asking mikey about how he’d like his bento boxes. he himself feels like a kid in a candy store.
the rest of the guys are left dumbfounded, kakucho’s mouth having hit the floor long time ago already.
he picks it back up when mikey interrupts his own conversation.
“i’m sorry to cut it short, y/n-san, but we should start the meeting. we can discuss after it more, if you want!” he apologizes, subliminally saying he wants to talk about these upcoming bentos more with you.
“that’s alright, and of course!” you smile again, “kaku, i’m heading to your office!” and turn around to face your red-faced boyfriend.
“of course, i’ll see you there after we’re done.” he smiles, nodding, assuringly.
“kakucho, does she know where your office is? are you not gonna walk her?” mikey intervenes and before kaku can say anything else, he offers himself to guide you to your lover’s workroom.
“take your places, guys, we’ll start when i come back.” the blonde orders, closing the door behind him.
“looks like boss is gonna steal your girl, kaku.” sanzu teases his subordinate, while ran makes kissy noises and coos ‘kaku’ in the background.
“wait…” rindou interrupts abruptly, “you said you have been dating for nine years? that means.. koko! do the math, please!” he orders.
“you’ve been keeping her secret ever since kanto manji!” the blonde gasps in shock.
“you bastard! you kept her hidden through that— ” mochi is just as angry.
“and tenjiku too?!” kokonoi, having redone his math, is in utter disbelief.
kakucho tries to drown out the sound of the guys accusing him of treachery, thinking about the end of the meeting and heading straight for his office to get you home and spend his time with you, alone.
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johnwickb1tsch · 3 months
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The Girl Next Door ~ Part 1
A Constantine x Reader fic based on this imagine.
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Summary: John Constantine has a crush on you. He wasn’t going to do anything about it though, until you strong arm him into coming over for dinner. Little do you know, this paints a target on your back for the local vampire coven… (I had to write something sweet for my mental health y'all 😆) Rating: Explicit, NSFW, but no dead doves...😮
You are the very archetype of The Girl Next Door. Well, literally. John Constantine lives in 202, and you in 204. You share a wall, and occasionally, he sort of smiles at you when you meet in the hall.
Like tonight, as your arms are full of groceries, returning home after work. You don’t know what he does exactly, but you assume it’s the same for him, though he is only clutching a brown bag that very poorly disguises a bottle of scotch.
“Hi, John,” you say brightly over a proud sprig of celery sticking out of your bag. It’s almost a running joke between the two of you, your sunny brightness aimed at him like a weapon.
There’s a long pause, like always, before he finally answers reluctantly in his deep monotone, “Hi, y/n. Bye, y/n.”
Before you can engage him any further he disappears into his apartment, closing the door hard behind him, the slam in the air like an exclamation point. You stare for a moment at the space where he’d just been, tall, handsome, his suit rumpled, that tie half undone around his neck. He looked like he’d had a rough day, whatever he does.
He dresses like a professional something, but imagining that man as a door to door salesman with his attitude is laughable, and so is the thought of him working amicably in an office setting.
You go inside and put away your groceries, then spread out what you need to make dinner. It’s Friday night, and you’ve had a long week too. You are making comfort food—it’s kind of a shame to eat it alone.
Half an hour later, while the sauce simmers, you find you just can’t stop thinking about that man next door. He seems lonely, every time you see him. There is something about him that just makes you want to wrap him up in a hug.
He’d probably push you off if you tried, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t need a hug.
The thing is…you have this thing. He pretends like you annoy him, but sometimes in the hall, or down in the lobby when you’re collecting your mail, you catch him looking at you when he thinks you’re not looking. And the look on his face is never exactly lecherous, like you’re used to with most men who eye-fuck you on the street. His look is more…just…lost, and it tugs at your heartstrings.
You’re sure he’ll say no, but your feet seem to carry you of their own accord, when you find yourself at his door, knocking loudly.
Some time passes and you hear him grumbling on the other side before he jerks open the portal just a crack. “Yeah?”
“I’m making my Nonna’s meatballs and marinara for dinner.”
“Good for you?”
“From scratch.”
“Sounds time consuming.”
“Want to join me?”
There is a very long pause, in which he just looks at you. You can tell he’s at least one drink in already; you smell the fumes on his breath. And maybe it’s stupid, and you’re asking for trouble you don’t need, but the thought that that will be this man’s only dinner squeezes your heart.
Finally, he answers with a question. “Why?”
“Why not?”
This, amusingly, seems to actually flummox him, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. In the end he narrows his eyes at you, (those lovely brown eyes, you can’t help but notice), like you’re trying to trick him into something truly heinous.
It’s…kind of funny, truth be told, and you can’t stop yourself from grinning. “Come on. I know you can smell it.” Your door is wide open.
“Maybe I don’t like Italian food.”
“Everyone likes Italian food.”
“Maybe you’re a terrible cook.”
“Only one way to find out.”
He actually growls a little, which for some reason gives you a thrill to the base of your spine.  
You really need to get back to stir the sauce. You didn’t anticipate getting this far in the conversation (argument?) with him, honestly.
“Well, door’s open,” you tell him, turning to go. You throw one last little come-hither look over your shoulder, to find he is definitely staring at your ass. Or, glaring, more like.
Maybe you have a screw loose, but you find this adorable.
You go back to your sauce, and lose yourself in the preparation of the other ingredients, watching the pasta to make sure it doesn’t boil over, checking that the meatballs aren’t burning. (Your oven is a dinosaur from the 1970s, and sometimes the temp spikes for no reason).
You are about to drain the pasta, when you find a tall, rumpled man standing beside your rickety thrift store table, looking a bit confused as to how he’d ended up there. He looks so big in your shoebox of an apartment, and if you’re being honest, maybe there’s a little bit of lust tied up with your desire to mother this man.
You offer him a welcoming smile, and for a moment, you swear he looks like he’s drowning.
“Glad you could make it,” you say somewhat teasingly.
“Can I…help?” He says the last word like it’s a completely alien thing to him.
“I’ve pretty much got it under control…” you say, which is mostly true. You peruse the sparse offerings of your 3 slot wine rack, picking a $6 bottle of Chilean red blend. “Want to open this?” The face he makes looking down at the decidedly weaker-than-whiskey beverage is almost comical, but he takes the corkscrew from you as you transfer the meal to serving bowls and put glasses of water on the table.
He removes his suit jacket at the table, rolling his sleeves up over muscular forearms that are, if you’re being honest, totally distracting. After you sit down you fill your plates, and the first few minutes of the meal goes by in semi-awkward silence.
Surprisingly, it’s John who speaks first. “This is really good,” he admits begrudgingly, and you utterly fail to damper your I-told-you-so smile.
“Thanks.”
You make halting small talk. You get the feeling he doesn’t chat much with anyone, of his own free will. When you ask him how his week was, his simple answer is, “Hell.”
You have no idea he’s being literal.
You ask him what he does, and he tells you he’s a sort of private detective, and he can’t really talk about it. He asks what you do, more to get the conversation off of him than anything. You let it go, for now, telling him that you’re a receptionist at an office building for a mega corporation downtown.
“Fitting,” he grumbles, you think because of your innate cheerfulness.
You feel the urge to tell him that half the time it’s just a thing you wear like armor—but you don’t know each other that well yet.
As you loosen up a little with food and more wine, he slowly asks more questions about you, where you’re from, what do you do in your free time, and maybe it’s stupid, but you feel like he’s actually kind of interested in your answers.
You enlist him to help you with the dishes, and as you stand together at the sink you bump him playfully with your hip. He peers down at you, his dark hair in his eyes. He is so tall, and there is a hint of a smile on his lips now. For him, it’s like a full-on toothy grin, and it doesn’t fail to quicken your heart in your chest.
Constantine can’t help but feel…puzzled, by you. Yes, you’re his cute neighbor, who teasingly likes to hail him in the hallway. And maybe he does look forward to the way your eyes sparkle, when he begrudgingly acknowledges you before retreating to the safety of the quiet solitude of his apartment. But you are so…nice. He can just tell, and he has no idea what a girl like you might want with a degenerate demon hunter like him. There are enough assholes in L.A. who would be happy to take you out. Why would you waste your time chasing him down?
And there is that smaller nagging voice in the back of his head. You are damned, and you don’t deserve her.
Fuck if it doesn’t make him want to touch you even more.
Later, he will look back on this as a moment of weakness. You, looking up at him with your big eyes, like you're old friends. You made him feel, for a fleeting moment, like he wasn't some doomed asshole with nothing to live for. Like he was an actual person. A man who could matter, to someone. Maybe even to you.
When you splash him with a flick of dishwater after he insults your favorite TV show he narrows his eyes down at you, and you get the fluttery feeling that he might like to eat you a moment before he cups your cheek in his big hand and catches your lips in a kiss. It’s everything you’d hoped for, even if you never actually expected it to really happen. Maybe the wine helped? Or maybe…he likes you? Luckily you get over your surprise, standing on tiptoe to meet him, looping your arms around his neck.
You yip with surprise when suddenly he lifts you to sit on the sink, pulling you close as the kiss deepens. “Was getting a crick in my neck…”
Your answering laugh is shaky at best. “Sorry.”
“Is this why you invited me over?”
“Sort of?”
He lifts an eyebrow at that, waiting for further explanation. You reach up to toy with his collar, tracing the line of his loosened tie, totally distracted by the shape of his collarbone and what’s bared of his neck. This man has a jawline that looks like it was sculpted from stone. There’s no shortage of beautiful people in L.A., of course, but you’ve never met anyone quite like him. He doesn’t seem vain, an oddity in this town, but underneath his rumpled suit this man definitely has the physique of a movie star. You try not to dwell on how odd it is, that he would choose to spend his Friday night with you.
“I mean, I’m definitely not complaining,” you offer with a sly little smile.
However, his answering expression is nothing less than stern.
“I’m warning you now, sweetheart. I’m not boyfriend material, and I’m not going to be your project.”
Even if both of those things may have crossed your mind, your thoughts are too hazy with lust from his lips on yours. Maybe he’s a grouch…but he’s a great kisser.
“Okay.”
“Good.”
He kisses you again, and you melt even more under his exacting touch. Those mitts for hands make you feel small, and you arch against him as they travel the ladder of your ribcage to your spine.
The wine was good, but you know you are mostly drunk on him.
Then he is lifting you again, like you weigh nothing, carrying you to the couch. You settle down into the worn vintage cushions and make-out like teenagers, all lips and teeth and pawing hands.
You’re the one who actually initiates something further, pulling off your shirt, and John blinks as he takes in the swathes of your bare skin. He glares at your lacy bra like it owes him money, and you can’t help but laugh breathily. You haven’t felt thishappy in a long time, truth be told.
“Something funny?” he asks, nipping at your neck. With a flick of his fingers your bra falls away, and your breasts are in his hands, and you forget how to speak intelligibly. With his lips on your nipples you manage to loosen his tie without strangling him, unbuttoning his shirt with an increasing desperation. You sigh when at last the bare skin of your torsos is pressed together, his weight pressing you down into the couch.
It occurs to you, how small your couch is, and this man is definitely over six feet tall. “Would you prefer…the bed?” you ask between kisses.
“Up to you.”
You nod, but find you can’t really stop kissing him long enough to move. You can feel the impressive length of him through his pants and yours, aligned with your center and you dry grind, thinking even that is wonderful. He, however, lets out a frustrated growl, and pulls you to your feet again.
Dizzy with desire, you lead him by the hand to your bedroom, and you make it there eventually between kisses and shedding the rest of your clothing. His thick fingers between your legs are a marvel. “So fucking wet for me,” he groans, and it’s too embarrassing to admit, but sometimes after seeing him in the hallway you’ve fantasized about something like this going down, and it always leaves you soaked.
“I…like you,” you admit, moaning as a second finger finds its way inside you, his thumb circling your clit.
“I still don’t get that,” he admits, but kisses you hard before you really have a chance to answer. It would be a little too crazy, to tell him right now that you’ve always just felt pulled towards him, like the Universe was giving you a nudge any time you saw him. He’d laugh at you, or he’d leave, and either of those at this point would be unbearable.
You are close already under his masterful touch, and you whine even as you flex your hips, all your muscles tightening in anticipation.
“Don’t make me cum yet,” you beg. “I want you.”
He groans in response to that, desperately pawing through the pockets of his pants on the floor for a condom. You watch with stars in your eyes, propped on your elbows as he rips open the packet and rolls it on that impressive length, your lip between your teeth. You feel empty while looking at him like this, longing to be filled to the brim.
There is a moment of raw eye contact between you that sears your soul, as he pulls you to the edge of the bed with those large hands on your thighs. For a fleeting second he looks almost vulnerable. It’s there and gone like a ripple in a pool, then his thick tip is at your entrance, and he is slowly pushing himself inside you.
It’s better than you ever dreamed, and you arch against him, moaning as he works inside.
“Fuck you are tight,” he pants in your ear, your walls clenching around him, seeming to fight him even as they crave the relief of his big cock stretching you out. You breathe deeply, easing him in. When at last he bottoms out inside you, your head rocks back behind your shoulders, blissed out.
“God, you feel good.”
This man actually snorts at the comment, though his voice is pure gravel, rough with need. “He wouldn't appreciate you saying it about me.”
Your laugh is half moan. 
“What, are you on a first name basis?”
“Yeah, sort of.”
You're not sure what to make of that, and you're too cock drunk to even begin to reason it out.
He can tell you're a nice girl. Or at least, that's his perception of you. So he doesn’t bend you at impossible angles or whisper filthy things in your ear. Really, there's no time for it. Just pure vanilla missionary in your sweet little snatch is more than enough to slake his need tonight. He fucks you on your back, his thumb on your clit as he glides in and out of your tight little pussy, your legs wrapped around his narrow hips.
Your pleasure builds in the cradle of your hips, wound so tight you feel like you'll either die, or fly. Usually...alright, it's never like this for you the first time with someone. There's always fumbling, and awkwardness, and half the time, if you're honest, a faked orgasm because you're too shy or too embarrassed to ask for what you really need from a new partner, afraid he’ll think you’re too much trouble. 
Well, that is not what is happening tonight. Tonight, John is taking care of you, and you can hardly believe your luck. 
“You gonna cum for me, baby?”
“Yeah.” Your reply is breathy, and you almost laugh just for the pure, unexpected joy you feel in that moment. “Oh, John...” Your ability to say real words escapes you as your body erupts with scintillating pleasure spreading through your loins. You actually scream, and the fierce clench of your cunt around him brings him too. He loses himself with a groan, his face buried in the curve of your shoulder as he shudders against you.
Afterwards, you are laying against his broad chest, his heartbeat a steady drum in your ear. You don't know it, but this is not something John Constantine usually does. Snuggling. But you are sweet and soft in his arms, and he can't quite bring himself to vacate the premises just yet. In fact, he's so comfortable that he dozes, and you follow close behind him.
In the middle of the night you wake to kisses on your neck and caresses down your curvy side. You sigh, arching into him. You feel his manhood at the seam of your buttocks, his thick head kissing your hole.
“Fuck. Sorry,” he whispers with a shuddering sigh, rolling over to reach for his pants again. How many condoms did he bring? The fact that he's not careless with you, even in the sleepy haze of the early morning second round, is incredibly endearing to you. How many times have you had to insist, and been made to feel like an uncool bitch for not wanting to risk pregnancy or disease in the heat of the moment?
Maybe it's utterly insane, but you're half in love already as he hauls you on top of him, his cock freshly capped with a new Trojan Magnum.
You are still drenched from earlier, and it's no problem to impale yourself upon him.
In the blue dark of early morning your eyes meet his, and again you sense that fleeting vulnerability before he distracts you with that clever fucking thumb finding your sensitive bud. He works you just right as you ride his beautiful dick with your back arched taut as a bow, his other hand toying with your nipple. It makes you cum in record time, so quickly it's almost embarrassing, though he doesn’t seem to mind. Within a minute he's followed along with you, his big hands digging into your hips hard enough to bruise as he reaches his own release. Your name on his lips raises gooseflesh all over your body, as though your lovemaking has invoked something powerful, something binding.
You collapse against his chest, and the both of you nearly fall asleep again, with him still inside you. 
“Let me get this thing off,” he requests gently, and with a plaintive little groan you roll off of him, curling in at his side. He knots the condom before throwing it in the general direction of the bin. You are both too tired to care if it actually hit home. 
Again, you snuggle close and the two of you doze tangled together until morning light streams through the window. 
You wake to kisses on your forehead this time. It's a miracle you rouse. You're a heavy sleeper—and he worked you out. 
“I have to go, honey.” 
“Want breakfast?” you murmur, half asleep.
“Yeah, but I can’t. Rain check?”
“Okay.”
Through half lidded eyes you watch as he gets dressed, half way, at least. A good portion of his clothes are still strewn around the living room.
My god, what a beautiful specimen of manhood you bagged last night. Nonna would be proud. She was an appreciator of male beauty, and if you told her that her special recipe had gotten you the best sex of your life with the handsome boy next door she would have cackled with delight.
“See you soon?” you dare ask as he buttons his pants. 
“Yeah,” he agrees, after a pause, bending down to kiss you one more time, with tongue this round. 
“Careful mister, or you'll start round three.”
“Jesus, woman,” he teases with that heartbreaking almost-smile. “You've drained me dry.” 
You look him over appraisingly.
“Doubt it.” 
He huffs with laughter, shaking his head. 
“Bye, y/n.”
You sigh. 
“Bye, John.”
With a surprisingly heavy heart, you watch the best lay of your life slip out the door. You really hope you'll get to do this again, and not just go back to awkward acknowledgements in the hallway.
***
Maybe John Constantine had told you he’s not boyfriend material.
But earlier that day, while he was having a smoke out on the sidewalk, he found himself looking over at the wares of a flower vendor and wondering if you would like them. He didn’t buy any, of course.
He wasn’t a total sap.
But it’s possible as he scales the stairs to his apartment, there’s a lightness in his heart as he thinks of you, and the possibility of seeing you in the hallway.
That's when he finds your door ajar, and your apartment ransacked, and a note in red ink on the table addressed to him.
If you want to see your girlfriend alive again, come to this address.
It’s a place in L.A. that’s deep in vampire territory, and something black and heavy weighs like a stone in the pit of John’s stomach. He’d deported a few big players of the local coven not too long ago, and he’d figured the Master would want revenge, but this?
Fucking diabolical—and just their style.
Goddamn vampires.
Without a moment to lose, he goes to his apartment to get his kit, praying he’s not too late to save you.  
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thesunshineriptide · 2 years
Note
i loved the pose reactions sm! are you possibly able to do the twst boys reaction to reader having a lot of anxiety due to a big test coming up please?
I don’t normally do ones for every twst boy but I’ll make an exception because I’m susceptible to flattery smfhskfhkshf /t
Anyway each section will probably be short but yeah! I got you. Also I’m writing this under the assumption that the reader is a first year
Twst Boys When You’re Anxious About A Test
characters: everyone
Cw// none :D
Riddle
Riddle “Rose Of The Classroom” Rosehearts will GLADLY help you study if you’re anxious for a test. This comes at a price though because he may tell you he’s a patient teacher, but he is a Liar. On the other hand, you WILL get a hundred percent on your test and he will treat you to a tart and some tea afterward so. 5/10 mildly traumatizing but effective
Trey
He has study cards from when he was learning that and you do drills for like an hour. If that doesn’t work he sends you to Riddle. 6/10 he’s not that helpful
Cater
He’ll google the answers for you and then quiz you on them. If you get something wrong he just tells you what it is and has you write it in your notebook. 8/10 he’s not a great tutor but he’ll help with the anxiety
Ace
Tells you all the wrong information as a joke but when he begins to girlboss too close to the sun he’ll take it back and tell you (what he thinks are) the real answers. It should be noted if you’re nervous for a test he’s also nervous because he’s a slacker 4/10 an asshole
Deuce
Also nervous, ends up doing an impromptu study session with you the night before. He makes hot cocoa and steals some of trey’s coffee rolls and you two have a good time studying and talking. He’s the king of finding roundabout ways to study (pneumonics, doodling notes, singing little songs, audiobooks, etc) so if studying via drilling doesn’t work he’s honestly best bet. 9/10 most pleasant person to study with and you end up getting a good grade too!
Leona
He will not help you study but he will help with the anxiety. Kind of. He hands you a fidget toy and then takes a nap and uses you as a pillow. Being forced to sit still for an extended period of time gives you a long while to a) calm down and b) rethink everything you’ve learned and check it twice. If you’re really anxious for something like an exam, he’ll send one of the froshes from the dorm that does well to tutor you, or if you really really tug on his heartstrings, he might write a quick study guide on a napkin and hand it to you. 4/10 he’s not really helpful unless you’re like, seriously distressed
Ruggie
He’s more likely to just tell you to chill and that it’s not a big deal than anything else. He might be inclined to help you study (he’s so fuckin smart dude) if you’re willing to pay a price. The price is food feed him something and he’ll tell you whatever so long as he’s still eating. The second he’s done he’s out of there. 2/10 he’s got the brains but he is anti sharing-is-caring
Jack
A good boy who would love to help you study! He does his best in classes so he’s genuinely helpful and doesn’t ask for anything in return! 9/10
Azul
He can totally help you with that, just, yknow. You can’t get something for nothing. So he’ll give you one of his illustrious study guides and a shoulder to lean on so long as you’re willing to pay the price… 7/10
Jade
Literally Azul’s right hand man. He could help you…but he’ll probably just say you should talk to Azul. If you’re really important to him, he might make you a cup of tea and let you vent for a bit. Probably won’t help you study unless it’s something that interests him, sorry. 6/10
Floyd
He might help you study, he might tell you it’s boring and then basically kidnap you. He’s a great anxiety relief though, because you will soon forget your troubles when he’s excitedly showing you his dance moves or squeezing you close (and tight enough to break your ribs. You won’t have to do the test if you’re in the infirmary though!) 8/10
Kalim
He’s also anxious about the test. He doesn’t know what’s on it or what he’s going to do. You both will be having an anxiety attack by the end of it 1/10
Jamil
“I’d help you but I have to help Kalim. I guess you can come sit in on our tutoring, as long as you stay quiet.” He is so tired man but he’ll help out when he has time. 8/10 he will probably tell you to stfu at least once
Vil
He’s a lot like Riddle in the sense that you WILL ace the test and probably be miserable during the study session. What differs them is that if you get too distressed, he’ll help you calm back down. 9/10 he didn’t mean to make you cry sorry potato
Rook
Why do you want to go to him? Well, it’s actually not a bad idea because he would LOVE to help you study. Helps you study for hours on end until you get it. Is incredibly patient and explains things in different ways until you understand what he means. Shows you the practicality of the study. 10/10 he’s an excellent study partner
Epel
0/10 he doesn’t know what’s going on or how to comfort you. You will end up comforting him and you will both probably fail the test tbh
Idia
He doesn’t know how to help emotionally and probably runs away. If he does help you study, he’s nervous and fumbling over his words the whole time. His information is sound but his delivery is confusing. 6/10 he’s trying
Ortho
Tells you the answers because he doesn’t know better. 11/10 most helpful
Malleus
He didn’t know there was a test but he’s studying for it now! You two will probably sit in comfortable silence, studying independently but near each other, maybe exchanging a few questions back and forth. He probably has refreshments available for you and is genuinely just enjoying your company. Super calming to be around (if you’re not scared of him, which, if you went to him for this, you probably aren’t.) 9/10
Lilia
Hit or miss because if it’s for history he might tell you something that’s not on the tests/in the textbooks and then you might accidentally get a mark down for it. If it’s for anything else though, he’s a patient teacher (and a father) so you’ll probably get high marks! He might also offer you refreshments and it will ruin the vibe a little but don’t be rude he cares about you. 8/10 two points off for his shitty, well meaning cooking
Silver
Great for anxiety relief, bad for studying. He’s a certified narcoleptic which means studying is mostly gonna be spent on trying to keep him awake. If you have an endless amount of coffee then he’s a lot better as a study partner and is genuinely smart. He’s trying his best to help even if it’s a little bit of a struggle, but it’s a good time anyway. 8/10 he’s a sweetie
Sebek
He pays a lot of attention in class and unless you make it explicitly clear you need comfort, he will probably help and hinder at once. Probably yells (accidentally?) or makes fun of you when you don’t know something. If he goes too far and you get mad or start crying, he softens so fast it’s incredible. 4/10 you take -100 emotional damage
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longingthoughts · 1 year
Text
I don’t belong, and my beloved neither do you
𝅄  ✧  .˚ fandom: twilight
𝅄  ✧   .˚ focus: novella lambert, novella lambert/rosalie hale
𝅄  ✧  .˚ content warnings: kissing, anxiety
𝅄  ✧  .˚ tags: longing, slight jealousy, shipuary, happy ending, rosalie likes leather and so does novella, pining, reincarnated soulmates, reincarnation, past lives
𝅄  ✧  .˚ music: ivy by taylor swift
𝅄  ✧  .˚ word count: 1,351 
𝅄  ✧  .˚ originally posted: 2022-02-02  
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crackship by kai
March 2005        Novella had waited for what felt like a lifetime to know what happened after the baseball game had occurred. Though Emmett had come around the bakery promising to keep an eye out for her and her family he wouldn't answer her questions and neither would Alice, who told her to ask Bella. Novella glared at Emmett in the bakery as he asked her about the baked goods.        "Can you at least tell me if she's okay? That she's not dying? Charlie isn't even home yet" The short girl huffed as he asked another question about the cinnamon rolls.        "She's in the hospital but she'll survive," Emmett replied, and sensing her about to ask another question he put his hands up. "That's all I can tell you okay?" Novella glared at him again but avoided asking another question. She would just have to ask Bella when she was back. And if she didn't come back she would just have to be the most annoying version of herself and get her friend to talk to her. Novella knew that Bella hadn't felt the most at home but she wasn't sure if that had changed now. Novella softened and chewed her lip as she answered every question Emmett had about the sweets. After all, the thought of tasting cardboard for all time seemed horrible.       About a week later though charlie was home and so was Bella. Novella made fresh baked goods that she knew both the swans enjoyed, carefully baking them to perfection as if the sweets could get some answers out of Bella. It wasn't even that she just wanted to know what had happened, though that curiosity was there, she also just wanted to make sure that her friend was okay. That she was okay after everything. "Sai I finished the box, can you still give me a ride?" She asked her best friend not trusting the bike with the baked goods she had specifically spent all day on. "Yes Nov, this shift is almost done." She heard her friend say from the front of the bakery, the tone of her voice telling Novella the bakery was empty.        Fifteen minutes later they were outside of the swan residence she told Sadie that she could walk home and she would call if she was late before she made her way up to the door. It was charlie who greeted her at the door. "Hi Charlie I brought you and Bella's favorites," Novella peered around him into the house. "She's home right?"        "Yeah kid, she's up in her room recovering, could you bring her favorite baked good up to her? I don't want to interrupt your girl time." Charlie said and the care he had for his daughter tugged at Novella's heartstrings.        "Of course, thanks" She replied easily grabbing a small plate and putting the cream cheese danish on it before she made her way upstairs. It was a little too staged the way that Bella was sitting as though she was trying to seem casual.        "He ruined my dramatic entrance didn't he?" Novella joked also pointing out that she in fact did know that Edward had been there. Bella looked as though she was going to deny it before she let out a sheepish grin. "I knew it!" Novella exclaimed as quietly as she could to not make Charlie worry.        "Oh, and I have a cream cheese danish for you."She said almost as an afterthought.        "Oh."She heard the taller brunette say as she took the plate.       "So come on tell me what happened? Also don't just say you fell down the stairs, I was at the game in case you forgot." She added the second part almost as if it was an afterthought.        As Bella told her what happened she listened intently wanting to know everything but her brain kept going back to one of the first details she shared, that she had to trade clothes with Rosalie. It wasn't something that she should be jealous of, Bella was literally running for her life, but her brain kept going back to the fact. Part of her wished she got to trade clothes with Rose. Though the idea of going on the run was terrifying it wasn't that she was jealous of. She was jealous of the closeness she had gotten to be to Rose by wearing her clothes. Still she knew the thought was stupid so she kept pushing the thoughts away as she listened to her friend's story and added her own quips.
June 2006       If someone had asked her what she thought her life would be like now she would not in a million years have been able to have guessed this. She sat in the cabin she had been staying at lately that the Cullens promised would keep her and everyone safe on her request feeling she wasn't ready to be in the Cullens house full time. It had been a lot to process since April, the month she had been turned by victoria as some sick act of revenge against the Cullens and Bella. After turning she not only had memories of now but also of before of Rose. It had been hell to process those alone while also taking on the other newborn's guilt. It looked like it would be a little better now, though the Volturi wanted Bella turned yesterday. But she couldn't control any of that. "Hey Rose" She said feeling the presence of her nearby.       "Do you remember the talk we had the other night?" Rose asked. Novella felt mortified remembering telling Rose about how she had been jealous of Bella when she had been on the run. The worst part is she couldn't even blame something like sleep deprivation or something on it because she was a vampire now and sleep was impossible. "Don't worry Neph," Rose replied using the nickname of her past life as if it was as easy as breathing air. "it's not as embarrassing you think. I actually think it's really cute." She heard rose say steadying her embarrasment all at once.        "I remember." Novella said shifting to look at Rose as she sat on the couch with her. Rosalie was holding a box Novella raised her eyes at her in question.        "Well, I wanted to bring you this, open it." Rose said handing the box to her. Novella took the box carefully looking at it. It was clearly a new box for this specific occasion. It was a black box wrapped in a magenta ribbon carefully. It was clearly picked out with Novella in mind. She gently tugged at the ribbon not wanting her new strength to hurt the delicate thing. She opened the box exposing more magenta this time it was tissue paper. She was a lot less careful with this than she was the ribbon pushing it back to see black leather. Novella couldn't help the small sound of amazement that came out of her mouth. "It's from the eighties, I bought it because it seemed like something that you would wear and I really missed you. When you talked about being jealous of Bella it made me remember it. I've worn it to school for a week so it should smell like me." She heard Rose say. Novella carefully pushed the box to her spot on the couch as she grabbed the jacket and settled it on her shoulders. Looking at rose's smile made her melt completely. "You look beautiful with it on" She heard the blonde say to her.        "Rose have I told you lately that I love you?" Novella asked her settling on Rose's lap instead of the rest of the couch. To some, it would have been fast but it really wasn't. Novella, having been named Nephele at the time, had spent the rest of her life in love and mourning her. The whole time the Cullens had been in forks she felt drawn to her. These feelings were always there. Novella wrapped her arms around Rosalie's neck and kissed her. Feeling Rose's arms wrap around her waist. It just felt right.
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I might have gone overboard, so please don't feel like you have to do all of these, but:
1, 2, 6, 9, 10, 13, 16, 20, 23, 24, 29, 34
Which movie have you watched the most? Empire Strikes Back, no contest. I've lost count but probably about ten? Yeah I rewatch it a lot
What is your favorite line? Ahh it’s very hard to pick a definitive favourite, there’s just so many good ones - maybe “there are some things far more frightening than death” because it says as much about Vader as it does about TGI, it was pretty dark and I’m always here for that. And if we're going for funniest line then "hello there" because it's become my staple greeting now, I love it
If you could stop one character from doing something, who would it be and why? I feel like the default answer is stopping Palpatine from doing, well, everything, but meh. Stopping Obi-Wan from leaving Anakin? Fox from killing Fives? Maul from being taken? Shmi from dying? But then if I saved them we wouldn’t have got Vader and the Inquisitors and all the beautiful plot that comes after sooooo I’ll have to go with stopping Qui-Gon from meeting Jar Jar, I’m a terrible person 😂
Saddest death? Satine, definitely. Fives and Maul’s actual death are very close seconds, though, still tugs at my heartstrings every time
If you could resurrect one dead character, or prevent them from dying, who would it be? Fives would be the most pragmatic one because then he could probably end the Clone Wars and the others down the line wouldn’t have to die. Also then I’d get my boy back so double win
If you could give any character advice, who would you give it to and what would you say? Anakin, and FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SIT DOWN FOR FIVE SECONDS, THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND GET A THERAPIST
Do you prefer rebels or clone wars? Although I do love Rebels it’s Clone Wars, hands down. It has some of the best arcs I’ve seen in any media and the characters are amazing - I love the animation, too
If you could choose any profession, what would it be? I feel like I’d be the world’s worst Jedi because I’d break the no attachments rule in 0.001 of a nanosecond, so that’s out. Sith/Inquisitor is also out because although I like to joke about being evil I’m nowhere near cunning enough, sooo bounty hunter? That would be pretty fun, I think
What would your weapon of choice be? Lightsaber, of course. I’d like to think that fencing training would prepare me for it a little bit, at least - I really want an Inquisitorius one just for the helicopter function but I’m an accident on legs so I’d probably end up decapitating myself with the double blade
Which character would you choose to be your companion? Any of the disaster trio. Alternatively, almost all of the Inquisitorius, they’d be formidable sidekicks
Would you have a team, or would you work alone? Team, I think. I do like working on my own but I don’t think I could do it for extended periods of time
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sanjisprincesswifey · 2 years
Text
imagine ⋆ zoro x reader
summary: you and your soulmate don't have one of your five senses until you fall in love with one another
♡: soulmate au zoro. female reader. 2.700+ words. sfw content.
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“left...right...left...left.”
your body sways back and forth, mimicking the swinging of zoro's swords. the movement of cool air ran along your body, allowing you to know in what directions he was wielding them in.
“now you stopped.”
wiping his sweaty brow with his towel, zoro placed his swords back onto the display case you had made him with a soft chuckle.
"why’d you stop?” you ask, your body turning to face him. your eyes follow where you presumed him to be by the creaking of the floor boards, awaiting an answer.
“i’ve been training for an hour,” he blankly stated, taking a seat next to you on the couch.
“has it really been an hour?” you lifted your wrist, pretending to take a look at your imaginary watch.
zoro laughs to himself, his eyes fixated on the grey of your own. staring straight ahead you continued to sketch in your notebook, a soft smile resting on your lips as it always did.
“what're you drawing?” he wonders, an unusually curious tone seeping into his sentence.
your pencil stopped, his deep voice was so hypnotizing. though you had no idea what he looked like, you could only imagine.
“what i think you look like,” you admit, with an unapologetic smile curving your lips.
the water from his cup almost spilled over his bare torso; it was funny that you could feel the sudden change in the air. your hands turned the notebook to allow him to see. “what do you think?”
zoro smirked, taking the notebook from you to inspect it himself. for some reason, you had been able to capture his likeness without ever laying eyes on him. you were definitely talented, he’ll give you that.
though it had been a couple years since you lost your eyesight, you had adapted impressively quickly. you had even joked that you didn't even need your sense of sight to pursue all the things you loved and even if you didn't find your soulmate, you'd fare rather well.
when you first joined the crew, zoro utilized your ailment as an excuse to train together. he'd say something among the lines of 'spending hours in the crow’s nest would perfect your fighting skills'. though, to be frank, you were already a pretty talented fighter without his help.
“huh, well;" zoro toys with his inner cheek.
that strange, unfamiliar fuzziness he had felt before was back again. at first, it was frightening, but looking at you now, it was much more comforting and warm than it had previously been.
“it’s really good,” he admits. his words tugged at your heartstrings, pleased with yourself and your talent. “how can you do that? it actually looks like me, but you don’t even know what i look like.”
you giggled, allowing him to take the notebook from your hands. “that’s what you look like in my head. i’ve asked the others what you look like and this is the final product. although, sanji said you were just a moss ball with hair.”
zoro paused, he didn’t even register the cook’s snide comment, he was more focused on what you said before that.
“you asked the others?”
you nodded, glad you couldn’t see anything, so you wouldn’t have to make awkward eye contact with the swordsman right now.
“yeah, it was easier than asking you if i could feel your face to, you know, feel for myself.”
zoro’s eyes flicked between your dull ones and your lips where a small smile rested. the feeling from before festered further throughout his body. he felt sweaty and not just because he had been working out for the past hour.
his palms twitched at the thought of feeling your dainty hands running over his features, and some part of him wanted you to.
“but, since we’re here,” you sheepishly gushed, inching closer to him. “do you mind if i...”
before zoro could respond, luffy burst through the crow’s nest hatch, scanning the room until his big black eyes found you. “y/n! there you are! come with me! i’ve been looking for you!”
without waiting for confirmation, luffy pulls you by the hands to follow him to the main deck, holding you tightly in his arms on the way down.
zoro was unsure of what luffy needed from you, but all he wanted was for you to be sitting by him again. your warmth lingered, but only for a second as zoro was left on his own. it was the first time, of many to come, that he disliked being alone.
.。・:*:・
“remind me again, why did you want to come with me, zoro?”
he followed next to you, pulling the wagon full of ingredients sanji had asked you for.
you were surprised when he had offered to join you, instead of head with luffy and franky to go eat, or stay on the sunny to nap. but you weren’t complaining, you enjoyed pretending like you couldn’t tell his stare would be lingering on you for longer than it should’ve.
“couldn’t afford for you to get lost,” he shrugged nonchalantly which resulted in a scoff coming from you.
“are you really one to talk?” you joke.
zoro laughed, a little too hard, causing your heart to race at the unfamiliar sound.
“wait,” you both stopped, a familiar chime rang through your ears, “come with me.” you took hold of his hand, dragging him with you to wherever you were headed.
you did not fail to notice that he never once attempted to retreat from your hold like you thought he would.
his eyebrows raised as he looked down at your hands, now realizing you had interlaced your fingers together. feeling you attached, almost like a sign that you were his, he felt a sort of pride, confidence in which he hasn’t felt before.
you stopped in front of the wind chime display, smiling to yourself.
your mind flooded with the thought of your childhood home, wind chimes flowing through the summer breeze, emitting a melodious sound.
you released zoro’s hand, the emptiness from the other night returning, causing him to frown.
“excuse me, how much for the wind chimes?” you ask, hoping the person behind the display heard you.
the vendor curiously flicked eyes between you and zoro, before noticing the dullness in your own.
“they’re one hundred berries a piece ma’am.” the gentleman offered, taking your outstretched hand and kissing the back of it.
zoro growled lowly when the man studied your face with the same expression the cook often had.
“i haven’t seen you around here before, are you new in town?”
you chuckled, shaking your head, feeling the delicate objects with your hands as you retreat from his grasp.
“no, we’re just in town for the night. we’re leaving tomorrow,” you inform, reaching for your bag to retrieve the correct amount of money.
the vendor's hand rests on top of yours as your rummaging halts.
“how about instead of paying for this, i’ll give it to you in exchange for a date tonight. you know, since you’ll still be in town?”
zoro’s jaw clenched at the man's words, eyes darting to your face to see how you were reacting to this.
his eye twitched when the man paid no mind to him, acting as if he didn’t even exist.
you hesitate for a second, “um...sure. i guess that would be okay." you awkwardly smile, unsure of how to respond.
a sharp pain grows in zoro's chest as he drops the handle of the wagon, a loud slapping sound emitting as it dropped to the concrete floor.
he darted immediately to the sunny, leaving you alone while he feels his head throbbing.
“zoro?” you called, but you got no response.
.。・:*:・
“sanji, can i have more of this tea? it’s amazing!” you smiled, holding out your cup so that the chef could refill it.
zoro followed your eyes, and if you had your sight you’d be making eye contact with one another.
the thing is, you knew zoro was staring at you. his gaze was hot and it burned into you, but you decided to save him the embarrassment in front of your nakama and let it slide. for now.
“of course, my dearest y/n. i’m so glad you enjoy it. can i get you anything else before you go?” sanji coos as you felt his lips against your knuckles, a gesture that he often pulled when you were least expecting it.
meanwhile, zoro’s stare from before had a much angrier intent, the air growing slightly heavier.
sanji was used to it though. after all, the two being the object of one another's aggression was a common occurrence, but it was strange this time around.
the reason behind his anger was clear to everyone at that table, probably except luffy and chopper to due to sheer obliviousness.
after you had left for your date, robin, nami, brook, and sanji decided on a plan to corner zoro in the kitchen.
right before he could leave for bed, robin locked the door, her hana-hana limb keeping it shut to deny him an exit.
“mm?” zoro turned around, facing robin who was innocently smiling at him.
“take a seat moss head,” sanji interrupts before blowing his smoke in the opposite direction.
he was confused, but obliged and sat at the head of the table, kicking his feet up.
“zoro, you seem to be taking a liking to y/n,” brook started, sipping his tea.
he only paused for a moment, doing his best not to stagger from his calmed demeanor, shrugging his shoulders, “yeah, she’s nice. a good training partner.”
he was good at pretending to be fine, he just hoped the three didn’t see the bead of sweat that formed on his brow.
“she’s quite pretty too, don’t you think so?” robin asked, tilting her head.
zoro’s breath hitched, his good eye shooting open to stare back at the girls who sat opposite the table from him.
nami wore such a devilishly evil smile it made him nervous to continue speaking.
“i, uh-” he coughed, feeling the burning stare of his friends.
“if you ask me, y/n is gorgeous.” brook spoke, “i would like to ask her for her panties-"
nami throws a shoe at the skeleton, ready to cut to the chase and avoid the sexual harassment. “so what do you think? you agree with us?”
zoro swallowed thickly, rubbing his sweaty hands on his pants. “s-sure. yeah, she’s cute.” his eyes wandered the room, refusing to look at the four matchmakers in front of him.
“enough. we could do this all night. mosshead, you like y/n or what?” sanji’s arms folded across his chest in an accusatory manner, enjoying how uneasy zoro seemed to be.
“wha--? no! no, i don’t like her. that’s crazy,” zoro shot out of his chair, hastily pacing around the room, somewhat laughing at sanji’s allegation.
he stopped when he realized that they were tauntingly smiling at the poor swordsman.
he drew in a long breath before nodding, sitting back down. “yeah, i think i do.” zoro expected the others to laugh, perhaps to make fun of him for feeling so sentimental over a person. but he forgot who he was talking to.
a comforting hana-hana limb rubbed his back while he let out a dry laugh, holding his hands out in disbelief.
“what do i do?”
his hands carded through his hair, it felt good to finally let it out.
“i’m back!” your voice was faint, far off.
“you have to tell her,” nami screeches, almost excited to watch this go down.
zoro’s brows furrowed together, shaking his head.
after minutes of back and forth, zoro was being pushed out the door.
“don’t be a wimp mosshead.”
“are you crazy? what am i supposed to say?” the four combined their power and were able to get zoro out the door, locking it behind him.
“tell her you like her eyes!”
“ask to see her panties!”
“tell her the truth!”
zoro rubbed his head, grumbling underneath his breath as he spotted you up in the crow’s nest overlooking the open ocean. the kitchen light was off when he turned around to check one more time to see if he could run.
he took his time getting up there, hands slowly, shakily, opening the hatch.
you were sitting on the couch against the window, your hand cradling your head.
you heard someone enter the room, hoping whoever it was would leave you alone.
sighing, your legs fall to the floor feeling zoro sit at the opposite end of the couch.
“are you trying to scare me?” you joke, causing zoro to flinch; he thought he was doing a good job of being discreet.
“w—what? no! i, i was just—”
“i’m just messing with you, how was dinner?”
zoro couldn't even answer your question, his head spinning way too much to think clearly. maybe he’d pass out and wouldn’t have to tell you.
you turned your head more in his direction when he took too long to respond.
“oh, dinner was okay,” he swallowed thickly. he knew you weren’t actually looking at him, but when your idle eyes roamed over him his heart began irradicably beating. “how was your date?”
you shifted in your seat, unsure if he was the person you should be telling this to.
“that bad, huh?”
you both laughed lightly, shaking your head.
“it was okay. he was nice, and smart, and funny...”
‘this would be the best time to pass out,’ zoro thinks, his brow picking up a sweat.
“...but,” his brows raised, eyes shooting directly over to you. “he just wasn’t my type.”
zoro clenched his fists, fisting bumping the air in celebration.
“i think i like someone else,” you admit.
your cheeks stained red, and you didn’t know, but his did too.
zoro’s eyes glanced between his lap and your hand resting on top of the couch, wondering if he should grab it.
“anyways,” you interrupt, hoping to change the subject. you leaned over the edge, rummaging through your bag for your notepad and paper. “do you think i could feel your face now?” you mischievously ask, face splitting into a playful smile, inching closer not waiting for an answer from him.
before your he could even open his mouth to respond back, you were sitting on your knees on the couch, face so close to him he could smell the perfume you were wearing, hands hovering over his cheeks.
so much heat radiated off your hands, but all he could focus was on your dulled eyes gazing up at him.
“yeah, sure,” was all he said before your hands brushed over his stubbly skin using the most gentle touches.
your fingertips handled him in a delicacy that he had never experienced before, his lids aching to fall closed. “wow, your jawline is so sharp,” you comment, giggling when your fingers brush over his adam’s apple and you can feel him swallow. your hands wander up to the curvature of his nose, the tips of your fingers gliding around with ease.
zoro’s heart was beating out of his chest, what was this feeling? it was so powerful but terrifying? you were so pretty, and you smelled so nice, and your touch was so heavenly. what was this bursting feeling in his chest? when he looks back up at you and sees you smiling at him, he feels his heart beginning to swell. it’s like he can’t even catch his own breath. not even some of his strongest opponents had ever made him feel this weakness in battle, this vulnerable. so safe.
it was like a curtain. it was like darkness, and then sunlight. the feeling of that warmth enveloping your body in the kindest of hugs. the world exploded with vibrant arrays of colors you hadn’t seen in so many years. the yellowish-orange of the sunsetting sky, the ocean waves, the white of the clouds. your hands froze, your eyes now staring directly into zoro’s, who were incredibly wide.
was he dreaming? one minute he’s staring in your greyed eyes, and the next they’re bright, luminous and golden from the sun outside. if this was a dream, this was the best one he’s had about you yet.
you blinked a couple times, eyes attempting to focus. “zoro?” you breathed, hands still cupping his cheeks. zoro was doing his best to maintain consciousness, his brain unable to even process what had just happened.
your gaze was like fire, burning every inch of his face until it was red hot. your eyes ran over every feature on his face, examining each little detail, he was even prettier than you had imagined. not even in your wildest dreams could you imagine zoro to look as handsomely as he did.
you smiled widely, “it’s you,” hands running through his short, bright green hair.
zoro’s hands found your hips pulling you on top of his lap so you straddled him, lips so close yet, so far out of reach. “you’re my soulmate,” you whispered against his smug smile.
“so it’s okay if I kiss you?” you nodded, leaning into his lips before he had a chance to react. zoro groaned into your mouth, the simple sensation of your lips on his was more than enough to please him. he’d been waiting so long for this; he would’ve been satisfied with a simple kiss on the cheek.
his breath was hot, and his lips were chapped, but you didn’t mind. he guided yours with ease, nipping at your bottom lip. “you’re prettier than i saw in my head,” you smiled, your eyes remaining screwed shut.
“really?”
zoro was blushing beyond compare, his whole body pulsed when reality set in that he was actually holding you.
“prettier than i could ever imagine,” you sigh into the air, leaving no room between your lips once again.
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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years
Text
Honey, I’m Home
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Synopsis: You’re not a normally an affectionate person but when Tom comes home from filming, you can’t keep your hands off him. He happily accepts your cuddles and fluff ensues
thank you to the anon who requested this! I deleted it on accident 
Masterlist
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“Honey, I’m home.”
“Honey, you’re home.” You ran into the room when you heard Tom’s announcement and threw your arms around Him. He stumbled back in surprise as he dropped his suitcase, not used to you showing affection. He wrapping his arms around your waist as you coiled your legs around his torso to keep yourself up, all while pressing kisses along his cheek. You pulled away briefly before grinning and pulling him into a long, well awaited kiss. It lingered much longer than usual before you pulled away, staying in his arms as your feet touched the ground again.
“Hi, darling.” He spoke softly as he rubbed your back. “I missed you.”
“I missed you more.” You said as you took in his scent. “Never leave again.”
“I missed you most.” He smiled fondly, cupping your face in his hands and rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs.
“I seriously doubt it.” You chuckled out of the corner of your mouth. Tom noticed you were still holding on to him and flushed a little. You’d hadn’t been dating very long, just a few months, but he was already well aware that you were not a very affectionate person. You were never cold to him, you just weren’t as into cuddling and touching as he was.
“What have you done today?” He asked you, keeping his arms firmly around your body.
“I’ve waited for you to come home.” You laughed. “And that’s about it.”
“Aw.” He grinned. “I’ve been counting down the minutes until I got to see you again.”
“Me too.” You leaned up on your tip toes to rub your nose against his. “Take me with you next time, okay?”
“I was thinking the same thing.” He smiled and pulled you in to a kiss. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?” You pouted as Tom began to walk away, feeling the urge to follow after him.
“The bathroom.” He told you, and you relaxed. “I’ve been in the car for four hours.”
“Oh.” You laughed lightly. “Right.”
“I’ll be right back.” He kissed your forehead before going to the bathroom. You sighed once he left and wheeled his suitcase into the bedroom, finding him washing his hands at the kitchen sink when you returned.
“There you are.” You came behind him and kissed his shoulder. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving.” He touched a hand to his stomach. “Do we have any food in the refrigerator?”
“I don’t know.” You shrugged coyly. “Take a look.”
Tom gave you a knowing look before opening the refrigerator.
“Oh My God.” He looked at you over his shoulder. “You angel. You got the ingredients for a roast chicken.”
“Not just any roast chicken.” You came up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist. “It’s that weird one you like with the apples on it. I was gonna make it for when you got home but I figured we could do it together.”
“You’re a genius.” He turned around and kisses both your cheeks. That’s why I love you.”
“I aim to please.” You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck to kiss him. You let it linger longer than usual, but he wasn’t complaining.
“This is going to be so good.” Tom grinned once he pulled away. “I’ll start peeling the apples. Could you get started on the seasoning?”
“You got it.” You kissed him again before getting the chicken out of the refrigerator.
Tom went to the kitchen counter and began to wash and peel a few apples. After a few minutes, he felt your arms around his waist as your head rested on his shoulder.
“Hi.” You greeted as you kissed his shoulder a few times. Tom smiled to himself as he looked at you.
“Hey.” He said softly. “How’s the seasoning going?”
“All done. The chicken is marinating in it now.” You told him before peppering kisses along his shoulders and up his neck.
“Feels good, baby.” He mumbled as he stopped peeling the apples. He wiped his hands off on a paper towel and rested them on on top of yours.
“Well you’re doing such a wonderful job peeling those apples.” You giggled before kissing behind his ear.
“They’re almost done.” He told you. “What’s next?”
“We have to make the rice.” You said as you walked over to the cabinet.
“But we don’t eat rice.” He smiled, knowing what was coming.
“We eat quinoa.” You finished his thought as you handed him the quinoa. Tom chuckled as he took the quinoa and poured it into a pot.
“Hey.” You said suddenly, walking over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I missed you. I missed seeing your face everyday.”
“I missed you too, love. It’s not a good day for me unless my eyes meet yours.” He rested his forehead against yours as you scratched his scalp with your nails.
“Who knew you were such a poet?”
“Being away from you really put me in touch with my inner tortured artist. In other words, I cried every night.” He joked, making you laugh.
“Never leave me again.” You sighed as you rested your head in the crook of his neck. You swayed together in the kitchen for a moment, just staying in each other’s embrace.
“Not planning on it. I think you’re stuck with me forever, actually.” Tom told you as he kissed the top of your head.
“Sounds good to me.” You pressed a kiss to his neck just as your timer went off.
“Chickens ready to go in the oven.” You sighed and reluctantly pulled out of his embrace.
“I’ll put it in.” He offered. “How long?”
“30 minutes.” You answered.
“Okay.” Tom slid the chicken in the oven and shut the door. “I’m gonna unpack a little.”
“By unpack do you mean throw all your clothes in the hamper?” You raised on eyebrow at him as you squeezed his hand.
“Yes I do.” He pulled you by the hand into his body and gave you another kiss before retreating to the bedroom. You watched him leave before going to set the table, smiling widely when he came back into the kitchen.
“Hi honey.” You greeted as you set two plates on the table. “Did you unpack?”
“Yes. I’ll help you with the laundry tomorrow.” Tom promised, going to the oven to get the chicken out.
“Thank you.” You said as you set the drinks out. “I just want to sleep in and have a lazy day.”
“Trust me. Once I get in that bed with you I’m not leaving for a week.” Tom clicked his tongue as he pulled your chair out for you.
“Dirty boy.” You gasped as you sat down. Once you were both seated, you rubbed your foot against his leg just to keep contact.
“I meant for cuddles.” He whined, face flushing. “You’re very cuddly today.”
“Why thank you.” You gave him a poised smile while serving him some chicken.
“I’m not used to it.” He continued, trying to get an answer as to why you were especially clingy. “I know I’m a lover of snuggles and whatnot but you usually react like a cat being touched.”
“Aw. Just what every girl likes to hear.” You replied sarcastically as you held his hand on the table.
“I’m sorry.” He squeezed your hand apologetically. “It’s a nice change.”
“Well I missed you.” You shrugged. “I didn’t get to touch you for two weeks. I’ve been building it up, you know?”
“I know the feeling. And the chicken was amazing.” Tom said as he wiped his face with his napkin. “Thank you so much for getting the stuff.”
“Of course. You work so hard. I wanted you to have a nice meal.” Your told him as you collected your plates. You kissed the top of his head before putting the dishes in the sink.
“I appreciate it.” He said as he turned around in his seat. “And I appreciate you putting my favorite sheets on the bed. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
You walked over to him and draped your arms around his shoulder as you bent over.
“I’ll put the comforter in the dryer before we go to bed so it’s nice and toasty.” You whispered into his ear before kissing his cheek several times.
“How did I get so lucky?” He craned his neck to look at you fondly.
“I ask myself that everyday.” You kissed his neck and patted his shoulder before continuing to clean off the table.
“I’m gonna shower real quick.” Tom told you as he put the cups in the sink. “I feel gross form traveling all day.”
“Okay.” You frowned a little upon hearing he was going to be leaving again. Before he walked away, you tugged on his shirt and kissed him. He chuckled against your lips when he pulled away and let out a sigh.
“You really missed me, huh?” He teased.
“You have no idea.” You sighed. “Don’t take too long.”
“I won’t.” He promised as he left for the bathroom. He showered quickly, also feeling the tug at his heartstrings from being away from you. He dried off and got dressed as fast as he could before taking a seat in the living room.
“Hey.” Tom smiled up at you when you padded into the room. You climbed into his lap and curled up against his body, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to stay in place.
“Hey.” You snuggled into his chest and took in a whiff. “You smell good.”
“Thank you.” He chuckled and rubbed your back in circles.
“Did you clean behind your ears?” You teased as you looked up at him.
“I did.”
“Good.” You looked down again and held him tighter. “They’re kinda hard to miss.”
“Hey.” He pretended to be offended, smiling when he felt your body shake with laughter.
“Sorry.” You mumbled as you toyed with the strings of his sweat pants. “Just teasing.”
“Are you okay?” Tom asked finally. As much as he appreciated all your affection, it was very out of character for you.
“Yeah.” You assured him. “Just missed you, is all.”
“You’re never this affectionate.” He pointed out. “Is something bothering you?”
“No.” You said and took your head off his shoulder. “Sorry. I’ll stop.”
“No!” Tom practically shouted and pulled you right back. “I like it. I love it, actually.”
He bent down to press kisses all over your face, a giggle emitted from your lips each time he did. Once your laughter died down, you looked up at him and stroked his cheek.
“Does it bother you that I’m not an affectionate person?” You whispered as you traces his freckles with your fingernail.
“I mean, I’d love to be doing this all day every day, but I want you to be comfortable. That’s more important to me than anything else.” He told you. “My love language is touch but yours isn’t, and I’m okay with that.”
You smiled fondly at him and sat up a little so your faces were close.
“Tommy?” You asked softly.
“Yes?” He matched your tone.
“This was the first time you were away, and it made me realize something.”
“What’s that?” He tilted his head as the setting sun lit up his eyes.
“I love you.” You smiled shyly as you told him. “And I don’t like being apart from you.”
“Aw, darling.” He put his hand on your cheek and rubbed his thumb softly against your face. “I love you too.”
Tag List 🏷
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sundaysundaes · 3 years
Text
Revival
Jung Jaehyun X Reader feat. Haechan | Fluff, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Soulmate AU | NC-17 | 15k
Summary: When fate brought Jung Jaehyun to you, it didn’t feel like your first time meeting him. And with him, smiling at you like his heart shattering to pieces, eyes painted with longing, you knew you were connected to him somehow. You just have to find the answers before it’s too late.
Warnings: sex scenes (both with Jaehyun and Haechan), mentions of death and suicide 
For my lovely cinnamon bun Esme @rainydayswithnct​ I couldn’t think of anything else to give you but this. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, I hope this will make you happy ❤️
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His eyes… They remind you of the ocean after the storm. 
It’s not the color as his are dark brown, like the freshly turned earth after rain. It’s the feeling, the way they glimmer under the soft evening light, calm and steady, but in a way, emits sadness, yearning for something. As if he had been crushed, trapped inside a hurricane for so long, he was about to fade into the void. And as he peered into your eyes, full of depths and secrets you long to unveil, something tugs upon your heartstring. 
It’s not love at a first sight. You’ve experienced that before with Lee Donghyuck, the lover whom you share frantic kisses and desperate touches with. But it’s something more intense, something you can’t even begin to fathom, something you wish you understand.
The second your eyes are locked to each other, it’s like you’re electrocuted, starting from the tip of your hair down to your toes.
“Oh, sorry,” you say, your voice sounds like you haven’t spoken in years. A tiny red spot begins to form on his chin from where it made contact with your head earlier. “I was looking for a book so I wasn’t—I didn’t see you there.”
The man, young enough to be around your age with a gaze wiser than most, has an expression of a heartbroken man. There’s pain that fleets through his eyes, a feeling that he quickly hides with a smile too bright to be genuinely coming from the heart. When he speaks, his voice is both rich and soft, deep and tender. “No, it was my fault.” He shakes his head. “Please don’t apologize.”
You want to reach out to him, want to know why he looks like he’s seconds away from breaking apart, want to ask him whether you’ve said too much or too less. But he’s nothing but a stranger and you don’t want to step out of the line. “Were you looking for a book?”
“Yes, umm…” He points his finger towards a book hidden in the shelf behind you. “That one.”
You follow his direction, smiling when you read the title written on its spine. “No wonder we bumped heads. I was aiming for the same book.”
“Oh, then it’s fine,” he says, pushing the book back to you after you handed it to him. “You can take it.”
“No, please, go ahead. I’ve read this too many times already.”
“Me too. So—”
“I insist.” You press the book to his chest, looking up at him. He looms before you, standing 180 centimeters tall that you have to tilt your head up to match his line of vision. You catch a sniff of his scent, the smell of soap and aftershave, thinly layered by cologne. His eyelashes are long, face framed by strong jawlines, brunette locks falling over his forehead. When his lips curve up, pretty dimples start to form in his cheeks. He looks like a painting, a thought runs through your mind, one that you hastily dismiss. “Take it as a form of my apology for bruising your chin,” you add.
His eyes widen, just for a split second before a soft chuckle reverberates from his chest. When he speaks again, it’s almost like a whisper—like a secret never meant to be told, “I can never win against you.”
You barely catch his words. “Sorry, what?”
“Nothing.” He clears his throat, hiding his eyes behind his bangs. “I’m… I was about to borrow this and grab some coffee. Would you care to join me? I’d love to talk more.” His body language indicates that he’s nervous which you find rather endearing. “I mean, It’s hard to find someone who has a similar taste like mine.”
Your heart convulses. You know how grabbing some coffee together tends to lead to something more. Your boyfriend’s name pops in your head but your lips betray you before your brain can form a warning. “Well, I do have a peculiar taste when it comes to books,” you answer with a smile. “Sure, as long as you tell me your name.”
“Right, sorry.” You love the sound he makes when he chuckles, and you love it more when it echoes louder in your ears. He offers his hand, stretching out his lean fingers. “I’m Jaehyun.”
You expect it to be soft just like the way he’s gazing at you, but his palm feels calloused against your own. When you reply to him with your name, he seems stunned but doesn’t stay still for long. Your name flows out of his mouth so naturally, as if he has been calling you for years, like a soulmate to another. It feels like electricity is running through your veins once more, something that you’ve never experienced before.
It takes around ten minutes to walk from the library to the nearest coffee shop and by then, you’ve caught on the little gestures he makes: the way he forces himself to laugh a little when he notices he’s being too straightforward; the way he clears his throat when he feels like his words have more hidden meanings than they let on. You’ve become aware of his passion and the love he has for books, so strong that it can only be matched by your own. You’ve learned about his dream, a novelist in the making, taking his first baby steps to turn it into reality.
“Have you thought about what kind of story you’re planning to write?” You question as you slide your cup closer with hot, black coffee shimmering inside. Before you take a sip, Jaehyun drags a sugar bowl toward your direction. “What?”
“It’s too bitter for you.”
“You think I can’t handle my coffee?”
“It’s not that.” He clears his throat and you wonder what is it that he’s trying to hide. “The coffees here are always too bitter.”
“Yeah?” You taunt him, smirking. “Well, watch me.” You take a sip, about to wince when the bitter taste hits your tongue but you act unfazed. Smacking your lips, you say, “See? I’m fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“No. Give me the damn sugar.” 
It doesn’t take long before Jaehyun’s little laughter becomes one of your most favorite sounds in the world. 
“I’m planning to write a romance novel,” he responds to your earlier question.
“Romance, huh? To be honest, I see you more as someone who writes detective stories. Never would’ve pegged you as a romantic.”
“Well, it’s supposed to be more than just a romance story. It has a supernatural element to it. Borderline fantasy.”
“Like what?”
He takes a few seconds before he responds quietly with a secretive smile. “I guess you’ll just have to read to find out.”
“Cheapskate.” You purse your lips. “Is it going to have a happy ending?”
“Well, they’ll be separated by death in the end.”
“No,” you drawl out. “What happens to them? You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me about it.”
“Of course, I can.” There’s a tiny smirk creeping up his lips. “I’m the author.”
“And a jerk too, apparently.” You’re worried you might go too far with your joke but Jaehyun still peers at you with that warm, longing eyes that make you curl your toes.
“Fine, then,” he succumbs. “Since you insist, I’ll give you a hint later. But you’ll have to imagine the rest.”
“Then tell you about it? What if you steal my idea?” You raise an eyebrow, teasing him. “I happen to have a very creative imagination.”
“I promise you I won’t. I’ve finished writing my version of it. I’ll let you see it after you tell me yours.”
“Huh, interesting.” You pretend like you’re rethinking your decision, just to get him a little bit hopeful and nervous by it. “Deal, why not.” Your coffee has grown slightly cold but the sugary taste of it serves as an addiction. “So, does that mean we’ll see each other again?”
“Well, I do have to go back to the library to return the book. So, hopefully, yes.” You both exchange stares, sharing sheepish smiles with you breaking away first, bringing your focus back to your coffee. “I’ve never seen you in the library before,” Jaehyun questions, “Is today your first time visiting?”
“No. I’ve been visiting it almost every day for the last… two weeks, I think? It’s near my workplace so I usually drop by after work to read for an hour or two. My apartment is pretty small so it feels a bit cramped. That’s why I enjoy spending more time outside.” You swirl your spoon, watching the little whirlpool you create inside your cup. “Besides, I can’t read at home.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’s…” You awkwardly laugh, waving one hand in the air. “I have a boyfriend who is younger than me and he’s a pretty lively person. It’s hard to focus on your book when someone keeps pulling you into conversations.”
Jaehyun’s fingers stop tapping against the surface of the coffee table but it’s too fast for you to notice before he starts again. “Isn’t it better to have someone like that rather than to be alone, though?” He counters, the smile on his lips never falter but the one in his eyes does.
“I…” It’s not apparent but you can sense it, the painful look on his face. It feels like you just said something that hurt him so badly that you want to apologize about it. “Yeah… I guess so…”
Maybe he notices you noticing, which is why he tries to mask his feelings better with a wider smile that does reach his eyes this time. “Why do you choose this library?” He diverts the topic. “There are a lot of new ones in town, bigger ones too. This place is pretty old and dusty.”
“Can’t argue with that.” You nod, sighing. “Okay, don’t laugh, but honestly? It just feels somewhat nostalgic to me. The first time I stepped inside, it felt like I’d been spending all my life there—just sitting on that old couch, reading books, enjoying the silence. It just feels familiar, even more comforting than being in my room. It’s weird but I can only feel at ease when I read there.” Jaehyun stays quiet that you have to lift your head to understand what goes through his head. His face is pensive, undecipherable. “What about you? What’s your reason, Jaehyun?”
He stops breathing at the sound of his name escaping your mouth, his shoulders tense, and only after what feels like hours, he finally has the strength to drag his eyes away from yours, bringing them down to see his interlaced fingers lying on the table. 
“It’s just closer to my place.”
***
“Hey, babe.” Donghyuck chirps with a lollipop stuck in his mouth, his fingers running through the keyboards, eyes locked to his computer screen. He can tell that it’s you who just slipped through the front door by the sound of your footsteps. “You’re late. Did you get the puddings I asked you?”
“They’re in the fridge.” You take off your coat and unwrap your scarf from your neck before you stroll toward the living room. You can’t remember what or who initiated it but it has been almost six months since he started living in your apartment. You remember how he used to spend just one night at your place on the weekend, then two when he felt a bit needy for your touch. Before you knew it, his personal belongings were scattered all over the place—his hoodie on the couch, his towel on the bed, his toothbrush on your sink—and he could be spending the entire week at your place, only moving once to his apartment when he ran out of comic books to read. It just came so naturally that you didn’t notice at first but by the time you did, it was too late to even bring the topic to the table.
Being with Donghyuck was easy, casual, and he gave you more reasons to laugh over little things more than anyone else. During the first two months, you acted like newlyweds with him peppering kisses on your face whenever you arrived home from work. Unlike you, Donghyuck is a freelancer and he does most of his work at home. He used to be considerate enough to do some chores for you—cooking, cleaning the bathroom, sometimes even doing your laundry when he felt he’d been neglecting you. Whenever you arrived late, he would’ve always had something prepared for you, beaming at you with a contagious grin while chiming, “Finally, you’re here! I’ve been waiting for you and I’m starving. Today’s dish is your favorite so let’s eat!”
But things are bound to change and happiness doesn’t last forever. It started slow, almost unnoticeable, with him forgetting to kiss you good night before bed and you treating the fact that he no longer paid attention to what you were wearing as normal. Nowadays, he doesn’t have enough affection to greet you with his smile—one that used to shine brighter than the sun. Comforting hugs and welcome kisses are long forgotten.
It’s lonely, but it’s fine. He’s still here. Donghyuck is still yours as much as you are his.
It’s fine.
“I met someone today,” you say, reaching out to stroke his dark hair. It’s so soft and fluffy like a dog’s fur and you find it calming just to card your fingers through them. The feelings are the same, only his reaction isn’t. He used to lean into your touch as a kitten would. Now, he doesn’t even spare you a glance. 
“A man?”
“Yep.”
“Is he hot?”
“Well, he’s not ugly.”
“Then don’t get too close to him.”
Donghyuck is the jealous type, he’s always been—sometimes even a bit possessive but it makes you happy to know there’s someone out there who cares about you so much he doesn’t want to share you with anyone else. But not today. Today, his words feel empty. You can tell that he doesn’t mean any of them. He just says them as a joke, maybe out of habit, but certainly not a warning.
“What will we be having for dinner?” You ask him when he’s busy shouting foul words to his screen as his character just got shot dead.
“Jesus—left, you moron!” He groans loudly in to the air before he turns around, finally recognizing your presence. “What? Oh.” He pops the lollipop out of his mouth. “I just had some take-outs.”
“You didn’t wait for me?”
“I was dead hungry, but I ordered some for you too. It’s probably cold now but you can heat it up.”
“Can you do that for me, please? I love it when you add more seasonings to it.”
“I’d love to do that but,” he smiles apologetically, his fingers meeting the keyboards once more. “I’m busy, babe. There’s an event going on and Jeno literally won’t let me take a break. Look, I’ll cook for you tomorrow, I promise.”
You have stopped believing in his promises, or at least, don’t allow yourself to believe. You’ve learned that the best way to avoid disappointment is to not expect anything.
You smile back, push his hair away so you can land a kiss on his temple. And no matter how much your bottled-up feelings are about to burst, you don’t say a word.
Because you know silence is what keeps your relationship alive.
***
That night, Jaehyun appeared in your dream.
He had a different hairstyle, a little bit shorter, color’s a shade darker. He was dressed in an old-fashioned way—a white buttoned-up shirt under a brown blazer that was a couple of sizes bigger than it was supposed to. Nevertheless, he looked just as strikingly handsome as he was in real life.
He took off his fedora hat, bowing when his eyes met yours as he entered the library—the one that you always visit. “You look beautiful today,” he said, smiling like he always has from the first time you saw him but it felt different in the dream. His smile was timid and shy, eyes never stayed long enough to be locked with yours, but they were honest. The way they shimmered in adoration at the sight of you, painted with both desire and affection.
Your body went autopilot, words flowing from your mouth before you could even process the situation. It was like you were residing in someone else’s body, just a bystander. “Are you saying I didn’t look beautiful yesterday?”
“No, that’s not—” At the sight of you covering your smile behind your hand, he sighed, pressing his hat to his chest. “Don’t tease me like that.”
“I’m sorry. Which book would you like to read today?”
“Will you choose one for me?”
“Unfortunately, I have a peculiar taste when it comes to books—”
“I trust you.” He smiled a tad wider, perfect teeth peeking behind soft red lips, and you could feel your lips curving to mirror his. 
“Well then,” you said, reaching toward a bookshelf. “Why don’t we start with this?”
It ended without you knowing what book it was nor the line between your dream and reality. They stand out so vividly—the scenery, his expressions, the lines you’d exchanged with him—that it takes you a few good minutes to realize that it was just a dream and not a memory.
You couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night.
***
The library is indeed old, with walls standing in dire need to be repainted. But the faint smell of sandalwood combined with the orange tint of sunlight sneaking through the windows is comforting. Crowds don’t gather much around here—maybe four or five people at most—and you’re consoled by the tranquility. There’s only a soft thrum of acoustic guitar playing through the speakers that keep you company.
And Jaehyun.
You meet him every day when the sun is an hour away from setting. You don’t chat for long, spending most of your hour reading your chosen book for the day while stealing glances at him scribbling stuff down on his notebook.
“Why don’t you use a laptop?”
“Not fond of it. I feel more like a writer this way,” Jaehyun responds, re-reading the words he just wrote on paper. When he notices you’re giggling, he frowns. “What?”
“You’re like my dad.”
“Then I’m sure your dad is a very smart, tech-savvy man.”
“I’m saying you have an old soul, the way you prefer to do stuff more traditionally.” You sink further into your chair, opening a new page, eyes scanning the lines but not reading them. “Well, I guess that makes the two of us since I already have the e-book version of this on my iPad and I’m still here reading it in a library. How’s your story going?”
“Pretty well. I just came up with a really annoying character.” His smile is a bit different this time, somewhat mischievous. “Inspired by someone.”
“You’re not talking about me, are you?”
Jaehyun drags his pen over his note. “Character A begins to question her—”
“Shut up!”
The more time you spend with him, the more you feel like he’s becoming a mystery you can’t solve. You’re closer to him, closer than any of your friends, but you know there are secrets he tries to bury underneath those tender smiles. To you, Jaehyun, with his eyes that always seem like they’re telling a different story—one that nearly drives him to the brink of tears, still seems like an incomplete puzzle. And if time allows you, you’d gladly collect every piece of him to be able to perceive him better.
***
Jaehyun visited you in another dream.
This time, you were walking next to him beside a beautiful pond in a backyard that seemed familiar enough to be your own. Both of you were dressed in traditional clothing and you wondered whether a ceremony just occurred.
“Are you nervous?” He asked, holding your hand.
“I don’t know, maybe,” you heard yourself mumble, body moving beyond your control. “I just feel like we’re moving too fast. We just turned twenty.”
“Are you having doubts?” He intertwined your fingers better and you noticed how his were shaking slightly. “About me?”
“Of course not.” You turned around, reaching up to caress his cheek, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. “Jaehyun, this is the only thing I’ve ever wanted. I want to be with you, there’s no doubt about it. I’m just thinking about our future, that’s all. What will we do with our jobs? Our money? What will we do when we have kids—”
“It’s just like you to overthink about stuff,” he tittered, “We’ll cross the bridge when we get there.”
That earned him a pout. “I’m not overthinking about stuff. I’m planning them.”
“Of course, my bad.” He kissed your inner palm once before he let you frame his face again, his hand pressing against the back of your smaller one. “Thank you.”
You frowned. “For what?”
“For everything. For caring, for worrying.” Jaehyun smiled so gently, it was almost heartbreaking. “For being with me. Perhaps it’s immature for me to say this, but whatever future that lies ahead of us, I’m sure it’s filled with nothing but joy as long as we’re together.”
“That is such an embarrassing line to say.” You giggled and the blush that bloomed on his face was instant and striking but before he could say a word, you pulled him into your embrace, resting your cheek against his chest. “As long as we’re together, huh?” You repeated quietly. “Then will you promise you’ll stay with me forever?”
“I promise.” Jaehyun’s smile was pressing against your hairline. “Not even death can separate us.”
You wake up with a cold sweat, your heart thrumming so loudly, it makes you feel nauseous. Donghyuck shifts around in bed at the sound of you gasping for air, sleepily asking what’s wrong as he rubs his eyes.
“I’m fine,” you tremulously utter, a hand on your chest as if it could do something to steady your racing heart. “Go back to sleep.”
Donghyuck sends you another look with eyes barely opened. “Come here.” He tugs you closer to his chest, his nose grazing the crook of your neck. “It’s just a nightmare,” he murmurs drowsily against your skin, and in a matter of seconds, he drifts back to sleep.
“Yeah…” You swallow your breath, Jaehyun’s name resting on the tip of your tongue. “Just a nightmare…”
One that feels too real.
***
Weeks turn into months, and what started as curiosity becomes affection. 
Reading books has turned into nothing but an excuse for both of you to spend time together. What started as stealing secret glances at each other has morphed into an exchange of secret whispers in a secluded corner. The questions have become more personal too, and you find yourself talking about childhood memories and nonsensical ideas that show up in your thoughts, even the ones you have never shared with anyone else, not even to Donghyuck who lends his arm for you at night.
It’s only the dreams that you keep quiet about, as they always revolve around him since the first day you met Jaehyun. You’re not sure why, maybe it’s a way of your subconscious trying to tell you that you have feelings for him—feelings that aren’t meant to be shared with friends—as the dreams tend to play romantically. And you can’t deny that you do feel something about him.
It’s hard not to feel anything when Jaehyun has given you everything you’ve ever asked from a person. From a friend. From a lover.
But it’s not love. Definitely not love. At least not in the way you know of. In your mind, love is in the form of hugs you share with Donghyuck, not in the way Jaehyun lands his eyes on yours. Love is—
Your head swirls. What is love?
The concept of love is so complex that even if you know about it, you’re not sure if you understand it enough to experience it. You have never talked about love, not with your boyfriend, not with yourself. Is it something that you’ve already felt once? Are you in love with Donghyuck—the man you’ve spent the last two years together?
What does he think of me? You start to lose focus, sinking into your thoughts and the soft music playing in the background feels like a lullaby. Does Hyuck love me?
Before long, you feel your eyelids grow heavy. You fall asleep with your arms folded on the table, cheek pressing against them.
You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming of a hand, so warm and tender as it brushes stray hairs from your temple. You’re dreaming of a voice, so familiar to your ears, so quiet and heartbroken as it resonates in whispers. You’re dreaming of a pair of lips, so soft and light as they press against your strands.
“It’s okay if you don’t remember me. It’s okay, so please…” Slender fingers curl around your wrist, bringing it to frame a face with skin as soft as porcelain. “Just come back to me…”
You wake up. 
Jaehyun is sitting on the other side of the table, pen tapping against his lips as he reads back his work, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. He notices the little shift in your movement, immediately beaming at you with his signature smile. “Hey there, Sleepyhead.”
You rub your eyes before sitting straight on your seat, your hair’s astray. “What—How did I—” A coat is slipping through your shoulders and you catch it before it meets the ground. It’s Jaehyun’s. “Umm—t-thanks,” you mumble, handing it back to him.
“Sure,” he responds. “You were shivering so…”
“Oh… Right.” You certainly don’t feel cold now especially when your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. “W-what time is it?”
“Around eight. The place’s about to close.” Jaehyun takes a sip of his drink, grinning at your behavior. “You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”
“Yeah, well, you should’ve. My boyfriend's gonna interrogate me for this.” You sigh, trying to gather back every bit of your strength and dignity. “Why are you still here?”
He raises an eyebrow at that, acting offended. “You don’t actually think that I’m the type of guy who leaves pretty girls sleeping defenselessly in public, do you?”
The word ‘pretty’ comes so effortlessly from his mouth that you’re sure he doesn’t mean it to mean something more. “There’s literally no one else around here but the staff besides us.”
“Which should be the more reason why I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
You scoff, shaking your head in amusement. “Yes, yes, how chivalrous of you. Thank you, oh my mighty prince. How can I return the favor?”
“By coming here again tomorrow?”
The way his eyes shine with excitement at the thought of seeing you again makes your heart flutter. “I don’t think you need to ask,” you grin.
***
Jaehyun knows you. He knows you too well. But it’s not the things that can be seen, it’s the things that you can only know by spending time together. Jaehyun knows the type of music you listen to, knows that whenever it gets too cold, you’ll start craving a cup of hot chocolate. 
It’s strange, the fact that Jaehyun, a stranger you just befriended, pays attention with all his heart, even at the words that accidentally slipped off your tongue as if you’re the only person who matters in the world, while Donghyuck, your boyfriend, barely bats an eyelash when you share an important aspect of your life. It feels strange at first, but now, it sickens you.
“What’s this?” You ask, examining a CD case he just hands over. “Are you giving me a mix-tape?” It doesn’t have a cover, just a note painted with the words: When we die, we will turn into songs, and we will hear each other and remember each other. You have your eyebrow raised. “A quote by Rob Sheffield?”
“It’s a hint for my story. As promised.” He takes a seat in front of you. “Have you worked on it?”
“When you’re only giving me this quote as a hint and nothing more, it’s kinda hard to come up with something tragic for the ending.”
“I thought you had a very creative imagination.”
You throw a playful glare and he titters a little bit in response. “Is there any other reason why you’re giving me this?”
“Just something to keep you company.” He smiles. He always smiles, but more with his eyes than his lips. Then he slides down another thing—a book this time—wrapped with a red ribbon. “As you read this.”
It’s an old book written by your favorite author, one that you haven’t been able to read because it’s so rare to find. “How do you—” You’re lost for words. You have never told him about this. You’ve mentioned your favorite books but none from this author as it is something personal that you prefer to keep to yourself, not wanting others to judge you for your distinctive taste.
“It’s written by my favorite author,” he elaborates, “I just thought you’d like it too since we have similar taste.”
There’s something he’s not telling you, you can sense that. But if he’s not ready to provide the words, you won’t take them away by force.
“Thank you.” You hug the book to your chest. Somehow, the air feels like spring, like cherry blossoms blooming for the first time after being frozen for so long. “I’ll cherish this.”
“It’s just a book, don’t be dramatic,” he chuckles but happiness is written all over his face, mirroring yours. Jaehyun’s eyes soften and he appears so fragile, like a porcelain doll. So beautiful and vulnerable.
The songs he has compiled for you seem like they’re taken straight out of your playlist. Even for the songs you’ve never listened to before, they click right in. You’re so caught by the moment, drowned deep in the lyrics and the music that resonates from your speakers, that you don’t hear the sounds of your boyfriend stepping into the room.
“I thought I heard noises. What are you listening to?” Donghyuck asks, leaning over your shoulder to peek at the empty CD case you’ve been holding on your lap.
“A friend gave me,” you answer. You notice the way his eyes dart to the handwritten note and it makes you nervous as if you’re doing something wrong behind his back, something forbidden.
“What a thoughtful friend,” he comments nonchalantly, albeit a little bit cold. You mask your anxiety with a chuckle. “Maybe you can tell your friend that there’s this thing called Spotify nowadays. Literally no one listens to CDs anymore.”
Your tongue lays heavy in your mouth, and maybe it’s better to leave things the way it is but you can’t stop yourself from bitterly saying, “I happen to like listening to CDs. It makes me feel nostalgic.”
“You and your nostalgia.” Donghyuck snorts, completely missed the annoyed tone in your voice. He places a peck on the top of your head. “Well, I’m hungry. What do you want to have for dinner? I’ll cook."
“There’s a new Chinese restaurant opening just a block away,” Jaehyun said on a Sunday evening when you two were about to part ways. “They got amazing reviews. Do you have some time to spare? I know how much you love Chinese food.”
“I never told you I loved Chinese food.”
“Everybody loves Chinese food, it’s not that hard to guess.”
“Fine. But if you can guess what I’m about to order, I’ll start filing a restraining order against you, assuming you’re a stalker.”
“Well, I gotta be careful not to get caught then.”
“Baby?” Donghyuck snaps you out of your reverie. “I’m asking what you wanna have for dinner.”
“Umm…” You push a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, somewhat jittery. “Chinese food?”
He frowns upon your words. “I didn’t know you liked Chinese food.”
“I-it’s just something I haven’t eaten in a while.”
“Well, I’m going to cook you something better.” He grins, boyish and ignorant. “How about your favorite Spaghetti Aglio e Olio by Chef Lee Donghyuck?”
You smile, weak but hopefully not empty. “That would be nice.”
***
“You’re okay?” Jaehyun asks the second you take a seat in front of him. He seems so concerned that it surprises you. You haven’t realized you look that troubled.
“I’m fine,” you assure him with a smile. “Just… You know, boyfriend stuff.”
You can tell how Jaehyun is holding back his words from how tightly he keeps his lips pressed together. He’s always considerate like that, always detecting every little thing that you try to hide but never pressures you to speak, especially when it comes to your relationship. Jaehyun respects you, respects the fact that you are already involved with someone that he never tries to get you to look in his direction. Though his eyes often betray him, Jaehyun tries his best to maintain his distance. He never flirts, never praises you with romantic words, never steps out of line.
And you’re thankful for that because deep down you know, once he does, it will be hard to untangle yourself from his grasp.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I’d rather not.”
“Then...” Jaehyun closes his book, leaning closer. His dimples are so prominent when he grins, eyes turning into a beautiful pair of crescents. “How about we go try out some dumplings?”
It’s so sudden and random but once the idea sinks in, there’s only one thing you want to say. “Take me away, Jaehyun.”
It’s not about the food. It’s not about ignoring your problems, or the loneliness that’s drowning you a little bit more every day. It’s about enjoying the little things with someone who understands you, someone who doesn’t need to hold your hand to keep you warm. 
Someone who can finally let you breathe.
***
“I can’t believe it’s closed early,” you whine after you read the sign that’s strapped to the library’s front door. “And I was so excited to read the next chapter too.”
“What’s the book?” Jaehyun asks, adjusting the strap of his bag that hangs low on his shoulder.
“No Longer Human.”
“By Osamu Dazai?”
“Yep.”
“I’ve got a copy of that.”
“What, really?” The spark of glee that glimmer in your eyes catches him by surprise but he hides it behind a soft smile. “Can I borrow it? It’s such an old book, I can’t even find the e-book version of it.”
“Sure. Would you like to come over to my place?” The line makes your breath hitched in your throat and Jaehyun recognizes the faint blush that spreads on your cheeks. Mirroring your reaction, he hastily clears his throat, rubbing his nape as his face turns scarlet. “Or, uhh, I can just hand it over to you tomorrow.”
“No, it’s—” As you tuck your hair behind your ear, you notice your fingers are shaking. “I have—I’ve got time to spare. You have coffee at your place, right?”
His shoulders begin to relax and with a soft gaze, he reciprocates with an even tender smile. “If you’re alright with instant coffees.”
“Then lead the way.”
Jaehyun has this mature persona around him, like a caring big brother that calms you down but the second you arrive in his hallway, he fumbles with his words, his key slipping out of his fingers during his first try, and his nervousness starts to rub off on you.
It makes you wonder whether he’s feeling like he’s crossing the line, just as much as you are with Donghyuck’s name sitting on the front of your mind.
“Come in,” he invites, opening the door but keeping his eyes anywhere else but yours. “I hope you don’t mind the mess.”
His apartment smells just like him and it makes it hard for you to focus on anything else. But the second you’re able to sort that thought away, you realize something. He keeps his place minimalist and neat, just like the way he dresses and writes. Everything is organized properly with two paintings decorating his walls—ones that remind you of your grandmother’s house. “You really do have an old soul,” you playfully comment and he scrunches his nose at you in return.
It feels more familiar to step into Jaehyun’s apartment than your own because he has everything that you wanted and more. All the books sitting on his shelf, his collection of CDs, even the potpourri he has on his coffee table has the same scent with the one you’re planning to buy. 
“I know you said we have similar taste, but this…” You scan his bookshelf in awe, noticing how it almost covers his entire wall from how huge it is. He owns hundreds of books and everything is arranged alphabetically. “This is just taking it to another level. Are you sure you’re not my stalker?”
He simpers. “If I was, I wouldn’t have invited you here. Too much evidence.”
“Or maybe you’re just planning to keep me here with you forever.” When he doesn’t reply, you realize how wrong that line just sounded. “I’m sorry, was that a weird thing to say?”
“I didn’t hear anything.” Jaehyun waves you off, walking to the kitchen. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
The tension gradually starts to ease by the time you have a book in your lap, your eyes running from one passage to another. Sitting next to you, Jaehyun has his pen glued to his notepad again, his brown hair nearly looks golden as the sunset illuminates his face with such a warm, beautiful glow.
He really does look like a painting, you admire as you steal glances at him from behind your book. The perfect shape of his nose, his smooth skin, the way he’s so focused on his story, drowned inside his imagination… Maybe you’re being carried away, taken by his beauty, that your mouth begins to produce the words without thinking.
“Why do you look so sad?” 
Jaehyun’s pen nearly slips from his fingertips. “What?”
“Sometimes you just look... so lonely and hurt,” you clarify although you’re growing more conscious of the way you’re crossing the line. “It feels like you’re forcing yourself to smile when you look at me...”
Jaehyun loses the ability to speak, even just blinking his eyes already seems like a stretch. But he sees something, the genuine curiosity and concern written in your eyes, that makes him avert his gaze away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he remarks, forcing himself to chuckle and you know that’s he’s showing you that smile again, even when you can barely make out his features.
You don’t know what’s gotten into you. Maybe you’re just tired of him keeping secrets to himself when you’re sure they concern you. Maybe you’re just sick of seeing him like he’s on the verge of breaking apart without knowing the cause. Or perhaps it’s just your selfish way of saying, “I want you to smile, truly smile, because of me and no one else.”
But you find yourself reaching out a hand, your fingertips meeting the warm skin of his cheek, wanting him to turn his face around so you can see his expression. Jaehyun jolts, your name tumbles down his lips abruptly, his hand clamping against your wrist. “What are you doing?” His eyes are shaking as they bore deep into yours but yours are steady. Your eyes, your voice, your fingertips. They’ve never been this steady.
This is the first time you’ve been this close to him, to know how long his eyelashes really are, the way they flutter against his cheeks, the curve of his mouth, and the beauty mark on his pale skin. He’s possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever witnessed in person.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to suddenly touch you like that.” You try to retract your hand, but he keeps his fingers around your wrist, hand hanging mid-air as he swallows his breath. Seeing him nervous makes you nervous. “Jaehyun, I won’t force you to say anything you don’t want to say, but…” You haven’t realized that you’ve been speaking in whispers, but Jaehyun has and his eyes soften just as much as yours do. “Please don’t pretend, not when you’re with me.”
Whether it’s from your words or the tenderness in your voice, you’re not sure, but Jaehyun releases your hand only so he can cup your cheek. He murmurs your name, so soft as if he’s telling a secret that he’s been dying to say. He leans forward, his breath is now fanning your cheek, and he’s so close, so close, and your eyes begin to shut when his lips faintly graze against yours—
The ringing sound of your phone blares through the room. 
Your entire movement stops but your heart runs a thousand miles per hour. It takes a good few seconds to come back to reality, and when you do, you’re not graceful at it. “Umm—” You glance away, breaking free from his touch. Your fingers are trembling hard when they retrieve your phone from the table. It has stopped ringing and a notification appears on your screen. The sight of your boyfriend’s name makes you feel like the floor is crumbling underneath you. “Sorry, it’s Donghyuck—I have to—It’s getting late, he must be looking for me.” Too embarrassed to see his face, you quickly gather your belongings into your arms, not even spending a few seconds to wear your coat back. “Thank you for inviting me. I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow?” And you don’t wait for an answer, only forcing yourself to laugh which comes out as strained and pitchy, before you head toward the front door.
“Wait.” Jaehyun has his right hand pressing against the back of the door, shutting it close before you have the chance to let yourself out. You’re trapped between the door and his chest, making it harder for you to breathe. “Can you look at me?” He firmly orders but promptly adds a soft, “Please,” when you’re not brave enough to respond to him. 
You turn around, hugging your purse and your coat to your chest, facing him but not meeting his eyes. You can feel him analyzing your expression, feel how heavy his gaze is on your face. He bends down slightly, hand reaching out to frame your face like before but you flinch, eyes shutting tightly before he can make any contact.
You can’t see the look on his face as you are too frightened to do so, but you can tell how much you hurt him by the sound of his voice. “You forgot your book,” he states, handing a copy of Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human.
“O-oh, right.” You sound so nervous, so afraid, and you don’t know why. “It’s okay. I won’t be able to read at home anyway—”
“I want you to have it.” It’s the first time he loses the warmth in his voice when he speaks and if you’re not too clouded by your thoughts, if you weren’t so selfish, you would’ve tried your best to fix the situation. But not right now. Right now, you just want to disappear. You want to run back home, run into Donghyuck’s arms like how you’re supposed to be. 
Because this is wrong. This isn’t supposed to happen. Not when you have another man waiting for your return.
You take the book from his hand, noticing how your fingers brush his and how they stay that way for a little too long, but Jaehyun doesn’t say anything. “I’m sorry,” you mumble out, tears begin to prickle at the corner of your eyes and you’re still not sure why you’re on the verge of crying.
“Don’t be. It was my fault.” He notices your emotions, he always does, and it breaks you apart to know how much you’re breaking him right now. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Nothing happened,” you convince him, shaking your head and will your tears to go away before they fall down your cheeks. “We didn’t do anything.”
Jaehyun’s fingers curls, nails sinking into his palms as he tries his best to mask what he’s feeling. “You’re right,” he quietly repeats, “Nothing happened.”
***
“Where have you been?”
Your keys slip through your fingers at the sound of Donghyuck’s voice and you’re petrified, millions of thoughts running through your head as you try to come up with an excuse.
But why? Why do you have to come up with an excuse? “Nothing happened. We didn’t do anything.” Isn’t that what you said?
“Babe?”
You jump back a couple of steps when Donghyuck walks into your personal space with a frown breaking on his temple. He furrows his eyebrows deeper at your reaction. “You okay? You look kinda pale.”
“Yeah, umm—” You adjust the collar of your turtleneck shirt, suddenly feeling like you’re being choked. “It’s fine—I’m fine. I just had a long day at work.”
“Why didn’t you text me? I could’ve swung by to pick you up.”
You force yourself to smile at his offer. “Thank you. It’s okay, really. Were you waiting for me?”
“Well yeah, I wanted to eat dinner together. It’s been a while since we did that and I wanted to make it up to you.” He cutely pouts and you’re reminded of the reason why you’re so trapped under his spell. “Text me next time when you’re about to come home late so I don’t have to wait for you.”
There it is. It strikes again. The feeling of loneliness. Curling your fingers at the hem of your shirt, you weakly reply with, “I’m sorry.”
Because out of the millions of thoughts that run through your head, that’s the only thing you have the bravery to say out loud.
***
“Hyuck?” You call out, carding your fingers through his soft locks. Donghyuck has his head on your lap with his legs sprawled out, taking most of the couch. His eyes are glued to the screen of his Nintendo Switch, thumb moving frantically to land a new high score. “I think we need to talk.”
Donghyuck doesn't respond right away. After a few relentless movements of his thumbs, he shouts, “Fuck, not again! Goddamn, I gotta restart all over again.” You can see him renewing the game, picking a different character. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I just…” You’re nervous, feeling more so than the pain that swells in your chest from not being taken seriously. “It feels like we haven’t been spending time with each other. Properly, I mean.”
“We’re spending time together now, aren’t we?” He hisses when his character takes another damage from his opponent. “What, do you want to watch a movie or something?”
I want us to talk. I want us to laugh. I want us to listen to each other like we used to. “I’m not in the mood for movies right now.”
After taking another shot, Donghyuck groans. “Fuck this stupid game,” he grumbles, throwing his device to the coffee table. “You know what’s annoying? The fact that I could land a perfect high score when I was drunk as fuck but now, I can’t even get into top three!”
Your patience is growing thin, but even then, you can’t find the strength to confront him properly. “Hyuck…”
“Right, sorry.” He heaves a sigh, rubbing his head as he sits straight up, facing you properly. “What is it? Is there something wrong?”
You meet his gaze and you realize how rarely you stand in this position, with him looking directly at your face with concern in his eyes. Now that he’s paying you full attention, your vocabulary turns into a blank slate. Your lips are parted but your voice is nowhere to be found, as it is hidden by the fear of speaking beyond control once you let your emotions run loose. 
“I…” You begin, clearing your throat to sound less anxious. “Are you happy with me?”
He knits his eyebrows together. “Of course, I’m happy. What are you talking about? Have I done something to upset you?”
“No, it’s…” Your hands lay rigid on your lap, fingers tightening around each other. You weakly smile. “Nothing. I guess I just had some weird thoughts popping in my head.”
“Look, I promise you I’ll do the laundry this weekend,” he confidently convinces you, as if that was the problem you’re currently facing. He pokes you on the nose, grinning boyishly. “Stop acting so weird, you’re creeping me out. What else are you thinking about? If it’s sex you want, you just gotta ask. You know I’m down with it anytime you want.”
“Yeah, of course…” You can force yourself to laugh but every sound you make feels like a knife piercing against your heart. “Sorry, I was just being stupid. You can ignore me.”
“I won’t ignore you, how can I do that? Not when you’re this cute.” He giggles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. But his affection does not make the butterflies in your stomach come alive. It makes hot tears threatening to appear in your eyes. “I like your sweater,” Donghyuck coos, “Is it new?”
No, this is my third time wearing it in front of you. “Yes. I’m glad you noticed.”
“I always notice everything about you.” He ruffles your hair as he stands up, stretching out his arms above his head. “Is there anything else you’d like to talk about? ‘Cause I’m dead tired.”
“No. Thank you for listening.”
“Anytime, babe.” He bends his head down to kiss you fully on the mouth, tongue running along your lower lip just to tease like usual. When he pulls away, he has his juvenile grin intact. “Well, I’m going to bed. If I wake up late tomorrow, you can re-heat the food. I’ve stored everything in the fridge.”
Donghyuck disappears behind the door before you can finish saying good night.
***
The sun’s about to set… He must have been there already.
It has been two days since you last saw Jaehyun. You know you’re not being fair avoiding him like this, but you don’t know what else to do. You’re not brave enough to face him after that. Have you been giving him signs? Was it your fault, was it the expression you made, was it the words you spoke, that made him lean towards you, asking for a kiss that you were more than eager to give?
“Hey, babe,” Lee Donghyuck chirps against your ear, arms finding their way to circle your waist, pulling you to his lap. “What are you doing?”
You’re successful at hiding your surprise but knowing it’s Donghyuck, anything will probably pass by without him realizing. Even when you have spent the last fifteen minutes reading the same paragraph in your book over and over again as your thoughts drift somewhere else. 
You have a boyfriend and it’s not Jaehyun. Donghyuck is everything to you now, isn’t he? Yet, if you hadn’t been interrupted by that phone call, you were sure you would’ve yielded to Jaehyun’s touch.
“Nothing happened. We didn’t do anything.”
You’re disgusted with yourself.
You throw a glance to the side, your nose nearly brushing his as Donghyuck settles his chin on your shoulder. Unlike Jaehyun who has a fresh, masculine scent, Donghyuck smells like summer and lilacs under the sun. It’s comforting and sweet, yet even after two years, it stills feels somewhat unfamiliar to you.
“Reading a book.” You shiver when he pushes your hair away, placing a lazy wet kiss on your nape, lips parted and tongue pressing against the skin. “Hyuck…”
“It’s okay, keep reading.” Whenever his mouth makes contact with your skin, he adds a hum or a moan to make sure you know that despite his words, he’s not giving you the chance to continue. “You want us to spend more time together, don’t you?”
You deeply exhale, staring lifelessly at the ceiling, sensitive skin being caressed but none of his touches pumps desire through your veins. Since when did I stop wanting him this way? You wonder, feeling guilty when Jaehyun’s face appears in the corner of your mind once more.
“Baby,” Donghyuck murmurs seductively against the skin, thin fingers slipping underneath the hem of your shirt, trailing over your navel. “Hasn’t it been a while since we last did it?”
“It’s only been a week.”
“And that’s a week too long. I want you.” He strokes your cheek, guiding you to meet his eyes. “Can I touch you?”
It’s a rhetorical question since you both know you can’t say no when he demands something from you. “Of course.”
Donghyuck’s lips still taste the same, feel the same as they suck bruises on your delicate skin but the sparks are no longer there. He used to make you squirm with excitement, body begging under temptation. Sex used to be an adventure, a way for him to make you lose your mind, to have you gasping his name between moans, nails clawing against his back, thighs trembling under his fingertips.
Right now, sex is just… another glue to keep your relationship in place.
Clothes are discarded on the floor, and Donghyuck is sitting with you on his lap, his spine pressed against the couch, nails digging into your hips as he brings you down to take him inch-by-inch. He hisses when he feels you engulfing him with your warmth, head thrown back with lips parted in a blissful moan.
“No matter how much we’ve done it,” he chuckles, eyes glazed with lust. “I can never get enough of the way you’re taking me so well, baby.” Donghyuck is a very passionate lover and his lips love to praise, both by words and kisses. The way he calls your name, the way he whispers, “You feel so good around me,” often makes you wonder whether there would be any other man who will desire you this much. But is it love? Does he love you? 
Do you love him? 
You’re not sure. You don’t know yet. But you know he plays a huge part in your life. Donghyuck once added a spectrum of colors into your previously dull, monochromatic life. You care about him, think about him more than you should, even putting his needs and priorities above yours.
If that’s not love, then what is it?
“Donghyuck…” You flinch when he rocks his hips up, a bit too rough and forceful as he’s getting impatient with the pace you’re going. “I—I think I love you.”
It surprises you that these words can leave your lips but you don’t regret it. It’s the right thing to do, saying these words to him. It’s only natural after the amount of time you’ve spent with him. It’s a way to bridge the gap between you and him, to reignite the flame, to bring laughter back into your life. 
To fix the mistake you just made two days ago.
But maybe his thoughts are too clouded with lust, maybe your words are too quiet for him to hear, or maybe you haven’t said the words at all and everything is just playing inside your imagination but no matter what the reason is, Donghyuck doesn’t answer. The words that escape his lips are obscene, a sign that he’s about to finish and you let him pull you closer to his chest, let him sink his face in the crook of your neck, let him groan and release everything inside because that’s what you’re supposed to do.
“Did you get to come?” He asks, breathless and flushed when he’s finished. His bangs are glued to his temple, sun-kissed skin glistening with sweat and when he strokes your cheekbone with his fingers, they tremble from the pleasure that washed through his body.
“Yes.” You didn’t. You haven’t in a while. It’s not because you didn’t enjoy it. Donghyuck still moved in the way you wanted him to—in the way that used to untie the knots in your stomach, almost making you cry from how good it was. But you’ve begun to realize that there was a part of you missing and Donghyuck isn’t the right piece to complete the puzzle. 
Jaehyun.
The dread of having another man’s name running through your head is so much, it almost makes you vomit your insides. 
“Hyuck.”
“Yes, baby?”
“I said I love you.”
There’s no going around it this time. You’ve said the words, you’ve pronounced them loud and clear but when Donghyuck still doesn’t say anything, you wish the earth could swallow you whole. “Can you… say something, please…?”
“Baby,” he sighs, fingers framing your face so gently, it hurts you. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. It’s not that I don’t love you but—”
You’re stunned, shocked to your core at the incoming rejection but… that’s it.
You don’t feel anything. How can you not feel anything? You don’t feel hurt, you’re not disappointed, you’re just…
Relieved.
“Baby, are you listening?” Donghyuck calls again, grabbing you by your chin so he can peer into your eyes. “I like you. I really do like you. I like you so much but love is such a big word and for me to be committed that way is just… I don’t know, I haven’t figured out my feelings yet. I don’t even understand what love is. I just—I need more time.”
You’re lost for words. How can you tell him? How can you say that you’re so relieved he doesn’t love you back? How can you tell him that his action does not break you apart, but only makes you realize that you’ve just been forcing yourself to stay with him because it feels like it’s the right thing to do?
What if you’re just staying with him because you’re so afraid of being alone, not knowing that loneliness is the only thing he can offer you in return?
“I understand,” you quietly reply, climbing off his lap. Your knees wobble slightly under your weight as your mind travels somewhere else. You gather your clothes into your arms, placing them back on your body.
Donghyuck frowns at your reaction, calling your name as he stands up and pulls his jeans back to place. “Look, I don’t want to hurt you by saying it when I still don’t truly mean it the way you do.”
You can’t look at him, can’t meet his eyes when you can’t even understand how you feel. “I get it, Hyuck, it’s fine.”
But maybe Donghyuck is taking it the wrong way because his voice is laced with both exhaustion and desperation to make this feel any less terrible. “Babe, can we just talk—”
“I said, I’m fine!” You turn around to face him, head dizzy and heart palpitating. It scares you. It scares you that after all this time thinking Donghyuck was the one for you—all the things you’ve done, all the memories you’ve shared—you still don’t understand your feelings for him. You loved him once, you’re sure you loved him once. But is it love if the feeling isn’t eternal? Can you call it love when it fleets by so fast, disappearing without a trace as if it’s never existed in the first place?
To think that these two years you have spent with him would amount to nothing...
You take a deep breath, wishing your body and voice to stop shaking. When you look him in the eyes, there’s nothing but certainty written in your eyes. “You’re right, we need to talk.”
Donghyuck walks to your spot, hand resting against your waist, another one framing your cheek. “Please don’t be mad,” he whispers, and for the first time in the last few months, he does look sorry. “I’m happy to hear you say those words, I really do, but—”
“I want to break up.”
He freezes, jaw dropping low. “What?” 
“I want to break up with you, Donghyuck.”
“What—why—” His eyebrows are sewn together, and you take his hand away from your face, breaking free from his hold. “You’re breaking up with me because I can’t say I love you too?”
“No.” You exhale. “I’m breaking up with you because I feel fine with you not saying it back.”
He stands in silence, then his forced chuckles fill the air. “Babe, what are you talking about—”
“Are you happy with me?” The tremble in your voice has receded. “Be honest. Are you truly happy with me? Or are you just going along with everything because you’re so comfortable—so used to the situation of being with me—that you start to think as long as I’m not hurt, it’s fine. As long as I’m not alone, I can keep going with this relationship, even when I’m with someone who doesn’t truly understand me. Or accept the real me.”
Donghyuck releases the breath he doesn’t know he’s been holding. His voice is a pitch lower when he speaks, bitter and hurt. “Is that how you feel? All this time when we’re together?”
“No.” Your heart still breaks at the sight of his face. “I think I really did love you once, Hyuck. And if you had rejected me a few months earlier, I would’ve probably broken down crying. But now…” You grow stiff, noticing the infuriated look that’s plastered on his face. “I’m sorry.”
Donghyuck stays mute and the silence only adds more tension to the atmosphere. His teeth are grinding against each other when he replies. “Why did you even say you loved me if you weren’t fucking sure about how you felt?”
You twist your finger in the hemline of your shirt, in dire need of something to keep your emotions collected. “I thought it would make us grow closer again. To fix what’s lost between us,” you weakly admit, heart throbbing and breaking at the sight of him. “But then I realized that we shouldn’t say we love someone just because we have to. We should say it because we want to. Because we truly feel that way. But I didn’t feel anything when you didn’t say it back. I only felt… relieved.” 
The enraged look on his face forces you to drag your eyes to your feet and you stay still, breathing as quietly as possible. It’s only when Donghyuck starts to reach for his jacket, muttering, “I’m not having any of these bullshits,” as he walks passes you that you dare to look in his direction.
“How easy for you to put this all on me,” he declares with his fingers lingering on the doorknob, so spitefully it shocks you. “You probably think I’m dumb and insensitive, but I know. I’ve noticed the way you changed ever since you met him.”
“What?” His words feel like a slap to the face. “I don’t—”
“You know,” he cynically laughs into the air, throwing his head back. “Just because you found someone who makes you happy ‘cause he can quote your favorite lines, read your favorite books or listen to the same shit you like, doesn’t mean you can throw me away like I’m some fucking garbage.”
You’re petrified by his words. Somewhere in your head, you keep saying that the reason why you’re breaking up with him is that you’re so different from each other—that there would be little to no chance for the two of you to understand one another even if you’re given all the time in the world. But you can’t deny that there’s a part of you that completely rejects Donghyuck simply because you’ve stopped wanting him as much as you want Jaehyun. 
It sickens you.
“I’m…” It’s suffocating. The tension in the air, his eyes, the way your heartbeat is ramming against your ribcages. “I’m sorry...”
Your apology only aggravates him more and with gritted teeth, Donghyuck slams the door behind him, leaving you alone in the silence of your room.
Your apartment has never felt this big before.
***
It’s funny how you just ended your two years relationship with your boyfriend but Donghyuck isn’t the one you’ve been avoiding for months. It’s Jaehyun.
Something is gnawing at you from the inside, the feeling of guilt as if you just sinned. You didn’t cheat on your boyfriend. Physically, you didn’t. You’re attracted to Jaehyun, everybody would be to someone who owns such a handsome face and delicate features. But it’s more than just physical attraction because when you lay at night in your bed, alone and empty, it’s not his face that comes to mind. It’s the little thing he does, the way he listens to your words so attentively, the way he smiles—happy and sad at the same time, the way he greets you, the way he nibbles at his lower lip as he tries to think of a word to write on his note. 
And the dreams.
The dreams never stop, they only grow stronger. You can remember each and every one of them crystal clear when you wake up. They’re usually different every night but for the last few days, the atmosphere and the surroundings were the same. 
In the dream, you were lying down in a hospital bed, wearing nothing but your white gown, too weak to even lift a finger. Jaehyun was sitting on a wooden chair with a book in his hand—the one that he presented you as a gift in real life—while his other hand was holding yours, thumb tenderly gliding against your knuckles. He seemed much thinner, cheekbones growing prominent with dark eye-bags tainting his pale skin. But his smile was the same, just as warm, just as tender.
He was reading you a story, one that you had memorized by heart from how many times you’ve read it. But it’s different when he read the words out loud, voice melodious and soothing, like a mother’s lullaby. When it was over, he beamed at you, asking, “What’s your favorite part of the story?” And you opened your mouth but no words could come out. You were losing your voice, could only make croaking sounds and even that already put a strain on your body. You could see how much it broke him to hear you struggle but he waited patiently, hand squeezing yours tighter. 
“Me too,” he responded after he heard your answer, kissing your knuckles. “I like that one too.”
In another dream, you saw him sitting at the edge of your bed, his mouth still formed that beautiful, delicate smile, but his eyes were as heavy as the storm. You asked him, why, what’s wrong, trying your best to let your voice break free from your mouth. He brushed his fingers against your cheek, pushing your hair out of your eyes. “I won’t let anything separates us,” he said and it felt more like a promise than how it sounded. “Not time, not death, nothing. I will always be with you.” He let his lips linger on your temple as he whispered the next words. “So it’s okay if you want to sleep. I won’t be going anywhere.”
Then… I’ll see you again when I wake up.
“Yes.” He leaned closer, letting his lips meet your chapped ones in a chaste kiss. “I’ll see you again when you wake up.”
But by the time you opened your eyes, heart thrumming loudly inside your chest, with the sound of the alarm in your phone muffled by your pillow, you knew that in the dream, once you go to sleep, you’d never be able to wake up.
I have to see him.
***
Three months have passed since you last saw him. It’s funny that despite how close you are to each other, know each other like the back of your hand, you just only realize now that you haven’t given him a way to contact you. No home address. No phone numbers. No social media. You’re not even sure what his last name was. You never needed to know his contact details before. Every day, an hour before the sun is replaced by the moon, you will meet each other here in this library—that was the unspoken promise between you and neither of you ever broke it. Not until now. The second you stop coming to the library, you disappear from his life as well, as easy as snapping your fingers.
The quickest way to see him is by visiting the library. Today you will see him. You just have to.
It’s raining hard, hard enough to drench you to your socks, painting shivers to each of your fingertips. It’s a Sunday evening, the sun is an hour away from setting behind the horizon. But with how heavy the rain is going, the day will turn into the night before the sun can shine its light through the clouds again.
Hesitation arises within you as you take shelter on the porch, your shivering fingers circling the doorknob to the library. He might not even be here in this kind of weather, you miserably think to yourself. It wasn’t raining when you took your leave half an hour earlier but you should’ve noticed how thick and dark the clouds were. Your thoughts were too jumbled that you didn’t even think about carrying an umbrella with you.
But you’re already here and if he still keeps his promise…
You take a step inside.
Your clothes are drenched but thankfully they’re not dripping water to the carpeted floor. It’s warmer inside, so warm that you feel like you’re home, sitting close to a fireplace, basking in the scent of sandalwood. Your eyes naturally scan the room, taking a longer glance at the table where you usually sit in front of him, a book in your hands, a smile strapped to your face. Jaehyun’s nowhere to be seen.
He’s not here. Is it because of the rain? Or… Maybe he has stopped coming here to see me. 
You can only realize how important someone is to you when they’re gone and it hurts so much that you have to nip at your lower lip, fingers curling around the end of your sweater. 
I want to see him again…
“You’re here…”
You turn your head to the source of his voice, heart about to burst when you see Jaehyun stopping on his tracks, one hand holding the entrance door open, another one carrying a folded umbrella that drips water to the floor. He’s so stunned at the sight of you, he doesn’t even appear to be breathing. In a whisper, your name breaks free from his lips.
And you run towards him with all your might.
He nearly stumbles from how hard you’re crushing your body against his, his umbrella falling from his grip but he doesn’t push you away. Jaehyun is warm, warmer than everything you’ve ever held and you wonder whether you’re just freezing from the cold or he’s always been this comforting. It feels so natural to stay in his embrace, to be wrapped with his strong arms, to have him whisper your name against the shell of your ear. 
I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much.
Jaehyun...
The first tear that slips down your cheek is an accident, as you don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t even know why you’re crying but you can’t stop. You sob against his chest, fingers curling against the fabric of his knitted sweater, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from crying harder but failing every time. 
Jaehyun never breaks away from your embrace. He does not care if people stare, does not listen to the murmurs being exchanged at the back of the room. He pulls you closer, one hand holding you around the waist and the other one stroking your damp hair. “I thought I’d never see you again,” he says, overwhelming you with his scent, his warmth, his voice, his everything and you still want more. His lips nearly brush against the tip of your ear when he whispers, “I’ve missed you.”
Your hands are now fisting the back of his sweater, pressing your cheek to his chest as you muffle your cry, focusing more on the sound of his heartbeat. It feels like a dream, one that you never want to wake up.
It’s only when you have the strength to pull away from him that he releases you. He swipes his thumb under your eye, erasing the stains of your tears. He looks at you in a way that is so different than the way Donghyuck used to. His gaze is softer, a mix between the feeling of relief for having you in his arms and a yearning to have more as if you’re still far away from his reach.
I want him to stare at me like this forever.
“You’re freezing,” he says, noticing the coldness of your cheek against his palm. “Would you like to come over to my place? I can make you something warm.”
You let out a tiny laugh. “That would be nice.”
***
Jaehyun’s sweater is too big that the hem falls to the middle of your thighs. Your clothes are in the dryer, making rumbling noise that’s loud enough to fill the awkward silence between you. Drying your hair with a towel he gave you, you take a seat next to him, careful enough not to invade his personal space too much.
“How are you feeling?” Jaehyun asks, handing you a cup of hot chocolate.
“Warmer now, thanks.” You wrap your fingers around the mug, seeing a cloud of steam erupting from your drink. 
“It’s been a while since we last saw each other. I’m glad you look fine.” 
“I am. I feel fine. More so than I’ve ever been.” And it’s not a lie. Being here with him, despite everything that happened, makes you feel at ease. He makes you feel as if you had been embarking on a trip for so long and now you’re finally home. “Were you, umm…” Were you planning to wait for me at the library? Have you been waiting for me all this time? Or was it just a mere coincidence that we bumped into each other again?
“Were I what?”
“Never mind.” You don’t have the bravery to do it. Flushed, you quickly take a sip of your drink.
“I was about to wait for you,” he suddenly confesses, nearly making you choke. “I was… worried about you. I kept wondering whether something bad happened.” His voice gradually turns into murmurs as he continues. “And I thought... After what happened... You hated me.”
The ticking sound of the clock echoes like thunder when silence hangs in the room. “I would never hate you, Jaehyun…” You’re unconsciously rubbing the edge of your mug with your thumb, eyes fixated on the glass instead of him. “There’s no way I could hate you.”
From the corner of your eyes, you could see him turning his head to face you. “Well, you stopped visiting for three months without leaving a word. It was hard for me to stay positive,” he says, a bit teasingly, “And I had no idea how to contact you either. I didn’t know what else to do but wait in the library every day until I could see you again. So that’s what I did.”
Blood is rushing to your face. He did wait for me. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?” He chuckles and you just realized how much you missed hearing it. “You don’t need to. I’m glad we can meet again.”
“Me too.” You mirror his smile. “You know, you could’ve just looked me up online.”
“Then, why didn’t you?” He asks and your heart stops. “Why didn’t you call me?”
You have to tell him the truth, you owe him that much. “I couldn’t. The way Donghyuck looked at me when I broke up with him made me feel so guilty and I knew I would hate myself even more if I ran back to you right after.”
“Why?” Jaehyun questions in a whisper. “What did you feel guilty for?”
Your heartbeat roars so thunderously loud, you can hear it in your ears. “Because he said the reason why I broke up with him was that… I had feelings for you.”
Jaehyun stays in silence for a few seconds and it drives you insane. Eventually, he leans forward to lay his cup down on the coffee table. “So…” He hesitantly speaks. “Did you tell him he was wrong about that?”
You tighten your hold around your cup. “I…” Taking a deep breath, you confess. “I didn’t.”
And there are so many things to be said, but none of you dares to speak. The silence is deafening, its invisible arms strangling you little by little and you’re trapped, not knowing whether to ask him to respond or just run away before your heart explodes to pieces.
Jaehyun does that look again where he stares at you like you own his heart, giving you the permission to hold it or crush it however you like. “Your hair is still dripping water,” he says, reaching out to place his hands around the towel and gently dab your strands, squeezing out the excess water and he’s so close, you can truly see the color of his eyes. In the soft, yellowish light of his room, they’re a little bit darker, a stark contrast to his pale skin. You’re distracted with the way his eyes shimmer under the light, the way he breathes so softly, warm breath hitting your lips.
And you don’t know who initiate it, but for the next breath you take, you’re gasping for it against his mouth. Jaehyun’s lips move slow against yours, tentative and patient, waiting for you to react. But he doesn’t have to wait, not when you’ve been wanting to do this for so long. Not when both of you have been wishing for it to happen.
If your mind wasn’t too deluded with the thoughts of him, how he feels against your body, how he tastes on your tongue, how the low grunt and moan that escape from the back of his throat successfully send shivers down your spine, you would’ve probably thought about how different he was compared to Donghyuck. Jaehyun was so tender, cradling your figure so gently as if you were about to break into pieces if he moves too fast. His kisses aren’t as rushed and bruising as Donghyuck’s, but they’re deep and just as passionate, if not more. The effects that his lips have on your skin burn stronger than anything you’ve ever felt. And if you thought Donghyuck reminded you of the sun, Jaehyun was the blazing sun himself.
But you couldn’t think of Donghyuck. You can’t think of anything else but Jaehyun. Right now, he’s the only one that matters.
“Push me away anytime you want,” he says, eyes dark and hazy, as he circles a hand around your waist to press your body flat against his chest.
With one hand fisting his collar, you let your lips taste him once more. “I never want you to.”
Your soft gasp is muffled by the skin of his neck when Jaehyun lifts your body off the couch, and you tangle your legs around his waist for support as he carries you toward his bedroom. Despite the growing, overwhelming passion between you, he lies you down so gently on the bed, hovering above you as he paints your name at the skin below your ear. You let out a sigh, pulling him closer and closer until you can sink completely into his warmth. 
No words are being exchanged because they don’t need to. Jaehyun speaks with his eyes, expresses his feelings with his lips, and carves your body with nothing but affection and adoration with his gentle hands. It amazes you how different sex can feel when there are feelings involved. It’s a connection, not just between your body and his but your mind, your soul, and every bit of your heart.
You’re more sensitive to his touch that even the slightest slide of his finger can make you arch your back. Jaehyun swallows every gasp, every moan of his name that tumbles down your lips and you do just the same with his.
He only stops to give you the chance to catch your breath when he’s fully sheathed inside you. His fingers tremble as they caress your face. “Are you okay?” He asks, sounding breathless and hoarse. He looks even more beautiful like this, skin glistening with sweat, lips bruised and swollen by kisses, pale cheeks reddening at the feeling of you peering into his eyes.
You smile, gaze softening. “I’m fine.”
Jaehyun has never looked so content before, so relieved, so happy and it makes you feel something in your stomach—something that you haven’t felt for months—to know that you’re the reason behind his most genuine, beautiful smile. When he whispers, “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me,” into your ear, you know that he’s not talking about the time you were absent from the library. His words have more weight to them as if he’s been waiting for you for years as if you once belonged to him before something separated the strings between you.
“I’m going to move, okay?” Jaehyun murmurs against your lips, and you let out a shaky breath, nodding a little.
He takes it slow, waiting for you to adjust to his rhythm as he keeps his eyes on your expression to make sure he’s not hurting you in any way. His eyes are half-lidded, cheeks flushed, lips parted in a small moan, barely audible. He splays one hand on the inner part of your thigh, fingers pressing hard against the supple skin as he pins it down to the bed, spreading your legs wider so he can press himself deeper inside you.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers against your jawline. “So beautiful…”
You nibble at your lip, circling your arms around his shoulders, raking your nails down his back as he picks up the pace. He’s perfect, he’s so perfect at everything he does—the sway of his hips, the angle, the way he changes from giving shallow to deep thrusts in accordance to your expression, knowing exactly what you need. 
He kisses you every time you give him the chance and it makes everything a lot more intimate, makes you feel more vulnerable, makes you feel more exposed. “I’m in love with you,” he says, forehead pressing against your own. “I’ve always been… All this time…”
There’s a surge of joy washing through your entire body and it’s so intense, you find yourself hiding your face in the crook of his neck, your vision blurred with tears. How can you feel so complete when this is your first time with him?
“Jae—” You gasp, your thighs trembling as you wrap your legs around his hips, arms hugging his shoulders tighter. “Jaehyun, I’m—I’m close—”
At your words, Jaehyun untangles your arms from his body and sits on his heels. He takes a hold of your waist and slams his hips harder to yours, driving you to the edge until you’re left sobbing against the sheets. He pulls away on the last second to finish himself off, tainting your stomach as a low grunt breaks free from the back of his throat. His bangs are falling over his eyes, a bead of sweat rolling down from his chest to his lean stomach and he still looks like a painting, one that you can’t seem to stop admiring.
“Wait, don’t move,” he says as if you had the strength to do so. “I’ll clean you up.”
When he comes back from the bathroom, fully clothed in a white tee and black sweat pants, he takes care of you so attentively, dabbing warm towel along your skin, swatting the bangs out of your eyes. A gentle smile never leaves his face but he blushes whenever your eyes make eye contact, though not as apparent as the shakes on his fingertips. 
“You’re so good at this,” you tease him, propping your elbows on the bed. “Must have a lot of experience with women, I’m sure.”
“I’ve only ever been with you,” he answers and it doesn’t sound like a lie.
“What?”
His movement stops, acknowledging the appalled look on your face. “There’s… something you need to know.” He slips under the comforter, lying down on his side, and makes sure it covers your body to your shoulders to keep you warm. “That day, when we first met… It wasn’t our first time meeting each other.”
“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows are adjoined in the middle. “When did we first meet then?”
Jaehyun falls quiet, eyes searching yours. “In the same library,” he says, “Seventy-four years ago.”
***
“Where are we?” The question leaves your lips as you scan your surroundings. Jaehyun has taken you somewhere you haven’t been before, a rural area in the foothills of Jiri Mountain. After spending more than three hours drive from Seoul, seeing nothing but never-ending roads and traffic signs, it feels refreshing to see a charming little village, blanketed in a snow of white and soft pink, with the sound of water streams soothing your ears and cold wind of April caressing your cheeks.
“Hwagae,” he claims, his hand never leaving yours as he walks next to you, taking shorter strides to match your step. “People usually think that Jinhae is the best place to see cherry blossoms, but for me, it’s here.” He glances at the way your fingers are intertwined with his, smiling timidly to himself. “But maybe due to personal reasons.”
“Well, you’re not lying…” You murmur in awe, eyes widening at the sight of cherry blossoms trees that line the road, following both sides of a turquoise-blue stream, pebbles whisked about in the under wash like pieces of glitter. “It’s beautiful.”
You can hardly pay attention to anything else so when Jaehyun presses a kiss against your hairline, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. “It is, isn’t it?” He says, pushing some loose strands behind your ear. “Beautiful.”
With his eyes locked with yours, it seems like he’s praising something else and you look away, cheeks heating up at his words. “How long does this road goes?”
“Around four kilometers.” Jaehyun follows your steps. “There are more than a thousand cherry blossom trees around. Locals call this lane the Marriage Road as it is said that lovers who walk hand-in-hand under the trees will get married and live happily ever after.”
He tightens his grips around your hand, and you can swear your palm is getting sweaty from how nervous you are. “You just can’t stop making me blush, can you?”
“I’m just stating out facts.” He chuckles and it’s even more beautiful than the whole scenery. He’s more beautiful than anything you’ve seen. But when he speaks, all trace of humor has dissipated. “You may not remember but... This was the place where I asked you to marry me.”
You have seen it coming but it still shocks you, nonetheless. It’s easier to treat him as a liar who’s telling superstitious stories and pointing things about you because he’s a stalker that knows more about you than he should. But the more he tells his stories, the more they feel like the truth and it’s not just a hunch. His stories are his versions of the dreams you’ve been having. The dreams that you’ve gotten ever since you first met him, and you never told anyone about that.
As you take a seat on the nearest bench, Jaehyun hands you his journal—the one he’s been using to write his novel. “I think it’s time for you to read the story.” But as you reach out to open it, he lays his hand on top of yours. “Before that,” he says, “Remember what I asked you? I want you to guess the ending for me.”
You’ve never thought about it, never imagined how the ending of his story would unravel. He has told you that it was about a pair of lovers meeting each other by fate and separated tragically by death, you knew that much. But anything could’ve separated them, whether it was because of sickness, accident, or simply because of old age, you could’ve guessed wrong. Yet, when your lips moved without thinking, providing answers that make your heart jolt, Jaehyun smiles and says, “Correct.” He then opens the book and gives you the chance to run your eyes through every passage. It’s written in a first-person narrative, allowing you to see through Jaehyun’s eyes as he unveils his story. 
The female lead has your name.
Every line. Every word. Every description. They feel like deja vu and the tiny hairs at your nape begin to raise. Your fingertips tremble as they move to open new pages. These are memories. They truly happened in the past. As you read, you can feel your own coming back, little by little, and by the time you’re halfway through the story, you can guess the next part that’s about to happen or correct little details that may have slipped from his mind.
“They were lilies,” you say, fingers tracing his perfect handwriting. “Not white roses.”
“What?”
“The flowers you gave me on our first anniversary.”
Jaehyun takes a shaky breath, and when he chuckles it sounds like a peal of tiny laughter and a choked sob at the same time. “Is that so?” He weakly asks, fixing his gaze to his lap. “I’m sorry, I must have forgotten.”
But he remembers everything else, everything that matters, even the way he felt back then. You could tell the love he once experienced with you through his eyes, the longing he has suffered as he waits for you to remember him once more, and the agony of being separated from you.
It’s easier to cry than to breathe when the memories of your past life start to dawn on you but you provide your best effort to stay reserved. There are more you need to learn.
The reason why he visited the library was not because he lived nearby. He moved there so he could visit the library, as it was the first time he met you in the previous life. “I was hoping she would remember the place as it was something we both grew fond of,” Jaehyun wrote in his journal, “She always thought I had a passion for books. She was wrong. She was the one who taught me that stories could mean something more. That they could make you feel alive, make you feel something you’ve never experienced just by words. I’d like to believe that these stories were the ones who brought us together, so we could create our own and maybe then, we could inspire other people—to make them feel alive with our stories.
I waited for her every day, from one season to another. The memories I have of her have always been there with me ever since I could remember, but that did not guarantee hers would resurface. Maybe she was looking for me. Maybe she was not. Either way, I couldn’t give up. I would not give up. 
And finally, one day, I saw her again. In the same library, with the same little smile she always had whenever she had her eyes fixated on her book. She appeared exactly the same as the first time I met her 74 years ago. I could not breathe, trapped between reaching out to her or just standing still in the distance, because when our eyes met for a brief second, she looked away. 
She did not remember me.
I was crushed. Devastated. I was nothing but a stranger. Twenty-five years I had been searching for her and now that she stood before me, I lost the ability to speak. It took me another week until I could find the bravery within me. I tried my best to appear as nonchalant as possible, even when my heart was breaking, even when my hands were shaking. I sank my nails into my palms so I wouldn’t take her hand and pull her into my embrace. When she told me her name, I was shocked. Her last name was different but her first name was the same, and I wanted to laugh. Fate could be so cruel, letting her keep her name but not her memories. 
But memories could be re-created, and I learned that none of her habits had changed. I might be a stranger, but to me, she was not. She was my wife and I wanted to hold her. I wanted to tell her I love her and hear her say the words back to me. I was ready to start over, to make her fall in love with me once more but before I could even begin, I learned that she had belonged to someone else.
And what killed me was that… She did not look happy with him.”
Your breathing stalls. Everything makes sense now. He’s been holding everything to himself. This was the secret he kept from you. And that time when he almost kissed you… What did you say to him?
“Please don’t pretend, not when you’re with me.”
That’s what he did. He stopped pretending. 
And you pushed him away, treating both of your feelings and his like a mere high school crush when they were something deeper than anything you’ve ever had. 
You place your lower lip between your teeth, nibbling at it until it grows white. He must have been so hurt, you realize, I’m the worst.
“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asks, reaching out to take your hand. “You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to.”
“No, I—” You shake your head, hoping the tears won’t fall. You give him a reassuring smile. “I want to. I need to remember.” Your smile doesn’t deceive him but he gives you the space you need, believing the honesty in your words.
Your marriage with him only lasted for four years before you passed away in your sleep, your weak lungs could no longer support your system, and through his story, you learned that Jaehyun followed you to the place he shouldn’t have. Because just a few minutes later after you took your final breath, he slit both of his wrists with a knife and hugged your body close to his chest, his blood drenching the white sheets underneath. His lips lingered against your hairline as he spoke, “I’ll see you again when you wake up.”
His neat handwriting starts to turn into dark splotches of ink as it is tainted by your tears. You’ve remembered. You’ve remembered everything. Everything that makes you happy and everything that hurts, you’re reliving each and every one of them. 
“Why?” You sob, shoulders quivering as you try to keep your emotions contained. “Why did you do that? You could’ve lived for many more years. Could’ve found someone else.” You bury your face in your palms, voice muffled by your skin. “You could’ve been happy without me.”
You can’t see how he looks at you, can’t feel his touch as he’s nowhere near, but you hear him take his breath. “My mother used to say,” he says, “that two people who are meant to be would always find their way to each other, even in the afterlife.” Jaehyun moves and kneels on the ground in front of you, his hands prying yours away from your face and his smile has never looked this blissful. “That’s why,” he continues, voice so soft it’s almost as light as the wind. “If there’s a chance, no matter how little it is, for me to see you again I would gladly trade my eternity for it.”
There are emotions you can’t explain, ones that you can’t understand. Emotions that make you cry as if the world was ending but also ones that make you feel so blessed to be born into this world, to be able to see him again, to witness his beautiful smile, his beautiful soul, and the beautiful love he has for you.
“Why are you crying?” Jaehyun chuckles softly but the quiver in his voice betrays him. He strokes your cheek, drying your tears with the pad of his thumb. 
Leaning into his touch, you sob against his palm, “I love you,” you confess, “I love you, Jaehyun. Even if my memories never came back, I’d still fall in love with you. Over and over again. I’m sorry you had to wait—”
Jaehyun abruptly stands on his knees, pulling you into his embrace. As your eyes widen in surprise, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, whispering, “If I had to wait a thousand years to be able to have this one moment with you, I’d gladly do it in a heartbeat.” His shoulders begin to shake and you wrap your arms around them, drenching the fabric of his shirt with your tears. “I love you too.”
There’s a voice inside your head that says, ah... so this is how it feels. 
Love... is not so complex after all. It doesn’t have to be. It’s not something to be understood. It’s not something to be thought endlessly. It’s not a choice to be made.
It’s a feeling, and feelings are meant to be felt. And you realize that happiness does not only emerge when your love is answered with the same passion. Happiness is already there in your heart just by loving him. You love him. You just love him. Entirely. Infinitely. 
So you kiss him with the biggest smile you can make, you pull him close with every strength that you have and you let him stay. In this life or another, you will let him stay.
And you will see him again when you wake up.
***
603 notes · View notes
plush-rabbit · 3 years
Text
A Blurry Photo
Picture Perfect | Aftermath of Picture Perfect Headcanons | Smile For Me
Warnings: Manipulation, Slight non-con
Word Count: 2.5K
A/N: I’m gonna do a part 4 with the pregnancy so keep an eyes on that ;P
He watches you, edging closer to the bubble you’ve created around yourself. The way you make sure that not a single thing of yours touches someone or something and that not a single thing that isn’t familiar touches you. He can walk close to you- enough to see the red lines around your neck and he salivates, spit pooling in his mouth. As perceptive as you are, you don’t seem to notice him. There’s something deeper inside of him now. It isn’t lust that he feels for you. It’s deeper than that, something more, something that makes his chest ache, that makes him want to do something idiotic and he does. It’s daylight, the sun is out and you’re safe. Eyes and hands will stop from any crime being committed upon such a sinful, innocent person. It’s easy for him- everything is when it comes to you- all he has to do is reach into your pocket and slip out your phone, he’s sure someone has caught him in the act, but no one says a thing. Slender fingers tap against your shoulder and you jump and you look at him with wide, tearful eyes and there’s a shock that shoots straight to his crotch, awakening his flaccid member.
“I’m sorry to startle you, miss, but it seems like you dropped your phone.” He holds the phone, hands large and imposing, covering all of the device, knowing you’ll have to touch him to retrieve it.
You look down at it and then back to him and his smile never wavers. “I- Thank you-”
“Danny.” You were never going to ask his name, he knows that. You’re too scared to do anything like that. “You can call me Danny.” He smiles sweetly at you and he has to bite the inside of his cheeks to stop the growing smile when you fingertips touch against his fingers.
You clear your throat, a forced smile making its way onto your lips and while he knows that it makes sense, he can’t help but feel anger at the expression given to him. “Thank you, Danny.” You pull on the phone, holding it tightly in your hands. “I uh- I hadn’t noticed it fell so thank you.” Your foot turns, ready to turn your body and he pushes forward, so desperate to continue talking to you.
“You uh-” his voice cracks and he clears his throat, walking beside you- “You seem a bit stressed, everything okay?” You glance at him through the corner of your eye and he can only give you a practiced nervous smile. “I really don’t mean to pry-”
“Then don’t,” you cut him off, hurrying your steps. “I’m fine. Thank you for picking up my phone but I have to get going.”
The corners of his lips pull downwards. Fury hammers at him, his hands curling and brows furrowing. “Listen, I’m just trying to say that you seem a bit stressed. Are you sure you’re okay? I work for the news and I know there have been a number of break ins-” that word causes you to flinch- “and I don’t want to leave you scared during this difficult time.” He makes sure to stumble in his footsteps when you turn a corner, jogging slightly to catch up to you, hands pushed into his pockets. “You’re shaking, you know?”
You falter in your steps and he has to refrain himself from smiling. “You’re being sweet and I- I appreciate it but really, I’m fine.”
“How about we go get some tea?” You turn to look at him and he considers it progress. “I think coffee might do you something bad, so tea sounds nice, right? Have you had bubble tea before?” Your eyes light up and his smile turns softer. “I’ll pay. Listen, I’m not trying to do anything weird, I just wanna make you’re okay before you go back home. I know a scared face when I see one.” You just need a little push and he can provide that. He stands in front of you and the tip of your sneaker nips at his, and holds his hand out to you, unblemished and giving. “Would you like to go get bubble tea with me?” Your hand twitch, fingers curling to place themselves against his only to pull away and he’s sure that if he hadn’t ruined you, you would have touched him. You nod your head, your answer a soft whisper and tears welling in your eyes and he does not comment, only smiles and holds your hand. “Great. I know the perfect place.” You’re already so broken, all he has to do is show you a bit of kindness and he can fix you.
-
You are curled up against Danny under a thick blanket, hands interlaced as you both watch the news, the tone somber as the woman recounts the latest murder. Your thumb rubs against his knuckles, the room quiet. It takes all his might to avoid looking down and seeing your reaction. He can remember the murder quite well. He’s just surprised it took them so long to find the body. It wasn’t as if he had hidden it but he must have mistaken the kindness for people to check up on others. He mistakes the kindness that you have for others. It was something that happened, a pull on his heartstrings with the time he has spent with you.
“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” Your thumb stops its melodic rhythm. “All the murders. I man, it’s just one guy and they can’t even seem to find him.” You laugh and it’s bitter, empty and makes a shiver run down his spine. “You- You go there, right? To take photos and stuff?”
“Yeah,” he responds, reaching over to grab the remote, holding his hand over the pause button, waiting for the right moment to hit it. “I get a few things, nothing ever tramuzitng, by the time I arrive the body is gone and there are markers all over.” A still image of Ghostface appears, he’s frozen in time, a hand raised with fingers curled in a mock greeting with the knife raised. He can feel your body stiffen, the small breath of air that is sucked into your body and the way your nails dig into his skin. “I’m safe, you know. I’m not leaving you anytime soon. Plus-” he turns his hands over, grabbing yours roughly- “the murderer never returns to the scene of the crime.”
“I just-” your voice shakes and he wonders if you’re going to tell him the details of your encounters with him- “I worry.” He frowns. It seems like you won’t.
It’s his fault, of course. He’s ruined your trust in people, invaded every aspect of himself into you, has felt your body as you cried and he was so sure that the last time he was here- which at this point was months ago- that he had gotten you pregnant and yet here you are with a regular period and consuming what you want without worry. But he can’t give up hope- you let him have a key to your place, you spend the nights with him or vice versa, you kiss him against the lips, breath shaky and hands gripping onto his shirt like it's a lifeline while it is a peck, he has to rush somewhere hidden to fist his cock in his hand and think of the way you’d be so giving and so fearful to him. It’s like you’re teasing him on purpose.
“Look at me?” He asks, already grabbing your body and turning you over. You look at him, your tongue peeking out to wet your lips, eyes wide legs straddling him, your clothed cunt pressed against his crotch and if he closes his eyes he can imagine the smell of it. His hands cup your face, encasing you and forcing you to look at him as the image of Ghostface is frozen on screen. “I’m going to be okay. No silly murderer who hides his face is going to get me. After all,” he smiles, leaning close to you, “I’m just a photographer. It’s not like I know anything.” He presses his lips against you, your words muffled against his tongue.
His hands slip down your face and onto the curve of your neck. He can feel your body stiffen, the soft murmur of his name on your lips, the way you latch onto his shirt and tug on it, scratching your nails against the soft cotton. His hands lower, hands slipping down over the curve of your chest, your legs instinctively trying to squeeze together, only to rest against your stomach. A hand curves to your back, sliding under your shirt where his fingertips tap lightly against your bare back. His other hand slips under the front side of your shirt, trailing above, fingers ghosting over the soft curve of your stomach until he reaches the band of your bra, his hand cupping a breast and your hands on him go flat, a feeble attempt to push him away as his hand pulls down your cup, exposing your breast, a hardened nipple poking against the palm of his hand. Danny wonders how close he can get until you really try to get him off of you- until you’re crying and hitting against his body, until all the small progress that you’ve made with him can be broken once again.
He tries to restrain himself, to hold back any of his primal urges to claw at your skin, to mark you until you’re sobbing against him. The most he allows himself to do is pinch at your nipple which makes you whimper against him, your hands now clawing at his chest and he can pretend for a second that you want this as well, trick himself that you’re gentle shoves that grind yourself against him are on purpose. He’s gasping against your mouth, pushing himself close to you, spit dribbling past the corners of both mouths. His fingers are pinched against your nipple, pulling taut on it and twisting it until your body goes rigid and he can hear a cry of pain muffled by the wretched kiss he’s placed onto you.
It isn't until you bite against his lip that he lets go. He curses, bringing a hand up to cusp the wounded piece of flesh that burns. Other than the small curse that leaves his lips, he’s calm, cupping his clothed mouth allowing for the blood to pool and fill his mouth with poison. You, on the other hand, are a mess. You’re entangled in the blankets, kicking them off, crying and sniveling, trying to fix where he’s touched only to start sobbing when you mimic where he had just touched you.
“You know, if you wanted to bite, you have to be a bit gentler than that,” he tries to joke, letting his tongue graze over the wound, blood spilling onto the flat of his tongue, filling his mouth with copper.
His fingertips touch against his lip, a thin, shining blood on his finger pad, staining him in his natural color. His eyes glisten, fingers still as he stares in fascination. His mind is fuzzy, static stuffed inside as the room is filled with a high-pitched noise, eyes never wanting to look away from the blood on his fingers- from his own blood. He never took you for the type to fight back. He meets your eyes- cruel, wicked eyes that meet fearful ones, ones that are rimmed red and look upon him with the same look that you gave him many nights before when he’s invaded your home. His fingers curl, the palm of his hand dotted with the same blood that had been spilled by you.
“I- I told you to stop,” you hiss, grabbing fistfuls of the blanket until they’re spilling from your hand, bringing the bundled bunch to your chest, where it rises and dips with such exaggeration. “I didn’t want to.” He tilts his head, his nails digging into his palm. You keep your gaze on him, never faltering, never looking anywhere else. “I’m-” more tears well in your eyes, voice cracking and a shiver runs through his body- “I’m sorry, Danny.”
With a sudden switch, he’s snapped back into reality. His smile is warm, gentle even, as he opens his arms and welcomes you inside, staining your bicep with his blood as your sob into his chest. He smiles, his fingers dancing along your spine in a spindly dance. You clutch onto him and he shushes you gently, letting you apologize and cry as he watches, so desperate for you to know edge closer to him and feel him poke against you, so perverted to have you never find out how your tears excite him more.
He moves slightly, a soft press of his chest against your body, and you collapse further into him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pressing against him, no doubt feeling him and you remain silent save for your sobbing. You refuse to say a single word about your disastrous meetings with Ghostface, even as he stares right at you through the television screen. You don’t speak ill of the monster who holds you in his arms. You hold the monster tight, finding comfort until your sobs have turned into hiccups and whimpers, until you’re kissing against his bitten lip, your lips shining with a thinned blood that appears almost pink on your lips.
“I didn’t mean to push you so much,” he says, his hand flat on your back. “I just thought we had been dating for so long and well-” he sighs, pressing his lips against the crown of your head- “I didn’t mean to push you. There’s no excuse for that.” He moves, squirming under you and you rise, looking at him with
“I just- I don’t have the best record with relationships.” He can feel your hesitation, the way your body tenses and the clawing against his shirt. “I don’t want to get into it,” you finalize, doing your best to not look at the screen where the image remains still, never moving and always taunting you. You pull yourself away from him, standing with your back faced towards the killer and he watches, eyes darting to the door where you begin your descent, his hand barely missing yours when he reaches to hold it. “I’m going to go home.” You turn to look at him, your mouth pulled into a straight line. “I’ll uh-” you stop midway, cutting yourself off as you lower yourself to the ground, adjusting your shoes and tightening the laces. Your hand wraps around the door knob, the humid air outside making you freeze, his eyes never leaving your retreating figure. “I’ll see you later, okay?” You look at him, a tense smile stretched on your face, as you give him a short wave goodbye. The door closes behind you and he collapses onto the couch, hand unzipping his pants and wrapping around his throbbing member, hissing at the contact.
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It's Just a Movie: Part 22 (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader)
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Warnings: cursing, 80s typical views on homosexuality (but no homophobia just,,,,as accepting as the 80s could be)
Word Count: 2958
This chapter is pretty much exposition/a feel good chapter because we need a break from the tension and also because I said so. Also, the boys are not straight, but it's the 80s so they don't talk about it.
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You were stuck back at the cave as the boys took Michael to the bridge, but you knew they wouldn't be taking you. They hadn't taken Laddie or Star, and it would look out of place if they'd taken you. You were almost tempted to make a joke that they wouldn't understand. August 1st, 1987 was a Saturday, but memes didn't exactly exist yet. So, you sat on the couch and tried your best to make a dent in the holy grail of chinese food that Marko had picked up. But, no matter how much you ate, you could still feel something eating you up inside. 
You had to let Michael and Star turn. Diverting from the plot too much would've made it so none of you would know what was next. It was better to follow the story so you'd know what to expect rather than going in blind. You stabbed your takeout a little harder than you needed to as you reminded yourself that. No matter how bad you felt, this was what needed to be done. You just hoped that, before this was all over, you could find a way to apologize to Star and Michael. 
You hadn't heard Star come over to you. You knew that she had probably already tucked Laddie in for an early night, and it wasn't until she was standing right in front of you that you looked up. Her hands were balled into fists, and she was gnawing on her lip. For a moment, you thought perhaps it had been a bad idea for the boys to leave you alone with her. Your mind flashed back to what had happened nearly a month ago, but then Star said,
"How could you? Why did you? You didn't say anything- You-" She threw her hands, frustration clear in her voice. She looked close to tears, and the lump in your throat seemed to only grow larger. "You didn't even try to stop them." She said, but her voice was shaking. You gulped, setting your takeout aside. You were vaguely aware that Star was a half. She was stronger than you, and could probably snap at any moment. You had to be careful, but it seemed you'd gotten your wish a little quicker than you'd thought. You didn't know what to say, but you still stood. She backed away, giving you a small amount of distance and a chance to explain yourself. 
"Star, I didn't-" You started, but you quickly stopped yourself. You had to choose your words carefully, and you decided that lying wasn't the way to go. You were aware of some of the boys abilities, but not of all of them. Whether it was just the boys or not, they always seemed to know when you were telling a lie. And, at the end of the day, you knew the boys were going to change him. So, you whispered a quiet, "I'm sorry." And reached out to hold her clenched hands. You held them for a moment, and finally she relaxed them to take yours instead. She sighed, her body relaxing. While she didn't tell you that she forgave you, you didn't expect her to hold it against you for long. After a moment, she asked again,
"Why? Why didn't you say anything?" And you bit your lip. This was a hard one, but you couldn't just not answer. With the way she looked at you, her brown eyes imploring you to answer. Tears gathering in them. You sighed yourself, cursing her and the way she tugged on your heartstrings. Though, you knew she deserved an explanation.
"I'm," You paused to find the words, glancing away to collect your thoughts. "I'm not in the position to really tell them no, Star. I mean, I'm not-" You tried to find an excuse, one that wasn't Max. That wasn't that you weren't from this world. That wasn't that you were trying to save the boys. "I'm not the one that tells them what to do, or- Or, decides what happens. I'm just-" You hinted as vaguely as you could at the existence of Max, but it was still a weak excuse. You knew she would probably just end up asking why you weren't in that position anyways. To her knowledge, you were the girlfriend to three of them. Surely, you had some level of weight in their decisions. Finally, you came to a solid excuse. "I'm not one of you." You said. It was the best you could come up with, and she sniffled as the look in her eyes changed. It was one of confusion, even if she knew that was true. Then, after a moment, realization filled them. Her grip was tighter as she held your hands, and she let out a small, 
"Oh." Now, it was your turn to be confused. She had given your hands a squeeze, before she dropped them altogether and went to wrap them around your shoulders. She pulled you in for a tight hug, and you awkwardly returned it. You hadn't thought that your response would've worked that well. You didn't know what she was assuming, but you let it slide. Whatever it took to get her to stop asking hard questions, you supposed. She even reached up to pet the back of your head, whispering, "I didn't- I'm- I guess, we're in this together then, huh?" She asked, and you tried not to seem too confused when she pulled away to look at you. You, out of instinct, gave her a nod, and then whispered,
"Yeah." She nodded back, petting your cheek before she took a step back. Her hand slid down from your cheek, down your arm, before she took your hand. Her cold fingers nearly made you shiver, and she gave your hand another squeeze.
"We'll take care of eachother, yeah?" She asked, and you looked between her eyes at the way she stared at you. It was intense, the look in her chocolate brown colored eyes. The slightest tinge of a smile was on her lips, and it compelled you to agree. Finally, after a moment, you gave her another nod. It felt weird, like this exchange had more weight than you'd meant for it to have. But, you thought having Star for an ally wasn't exactly a bad decision. Perhaps it would make it easier to convince Michael that the boys weren't as terrible as he would later think. All you had to do was convince Star first. 
"And she didn't kiss you?" Paul asked later that night. You were telling the boys about it after they'd returned, and both Star and Laddie had fell asleep. Paul was laying on the bed, playing with your jacket while Marko sat next to you, leaning into you. Dwayne sat behind the three of you, back near the pillows with his back against the wall. He reached over, smacking Paul's head. Paul whined, rubbing the spot as he said, "What? I'm just saying! She totally kissed Michael first and it just seems like if I was in her shoes, I would've totally taken that moment to make a move!" You turned your head as Dwayne said,
"Well, Stars not you, dumbass. Plus, she's probably straight." He said, making a point of the word. But Paul scoffed and Marko grinned while he shook his head. Paul, looked up at the brunette, saying,
"If Star's straight, then so is David." And you covered your mouth to muffle your laughter as you looked at the platinum blonde. Marko and Paul didn't even attempt to, even as David narrowed his eyes at both of the blondes. Paul continued with, "I mean, c'mon, David. You have a type. You put that Jim Morrison poster up and Michael's a dead-ringer, so we get it! There's no shame in that!" As the other two died from laughter. David lifted his cigarette to his lips, and then blew smoke at Paul. If he was closer, he probably would've aimed for his face.
"Whatever, Paul. I'll remember this the next time I catch you checking out some guys ass." David retorted, and Paul didn't even look perturbed by his words. He simply shrugged and held up his hands.
"Some dudes have nice asses. Am I supposed to not look?" He asked, and this earned an eye roll from the blonde besides you. When Paul noticed, he balked at the curly-haired blonde. "Oh, don't you try to pretend to be Mr. Heterosexual in front of the babe, Marko. You totally sucked-" But you raised your hands to diffuse the conversation, and escalating voices, before the sun went down. All conversation on the fluidity of their sexualities aside, you had brought this up for a reason. 
"So, what do you think?" You asked David. You hadn't really known what to make of Stars words, and you stared at the boy for some guidance. He was clearly thinking it over, smoking his cigarette as he did so. You had given up on trying to enforce any rules about smoking in your room, to the point where Dwayne even had a cigarette burning in-between his fingers. Finally, he shrugged and said,
"She sees you as her friend. Maybe as someone she can relate to. I don't see any harm in that. As long as you don't plan on switching sides." He said, flicking the end of his cigarette. You scoffed at the sheer ridiculousness of the idea. 
"Oh, yeah. I'm totally ditching you guys for the Frogs." You said sarcastically, and David smiled at your joke. It was nice to see him smile, and you felt as though you hadn't, at least genuinely, seen him do it in awhile. You smiled back, and then asked, "So, how'd it go with Michael?" And you heard a telling chuckle come from all of them. Paul sat up, holding his hands out as he said,
"Michael totally almost pissed himself when the train came." He said, before the boys erupted into a chorus of laughter at the memory. You smiled, finding their laughter contagious. Though, you still felt the need to comment,
"You guys seem to be enjoying this hazing thing, huh?" You asked. You knew that they had to do it for the sake of the movie, but none of them seemed nearly as hung up about it as you did. Well, as much as Star had been making you feel about it. Marko nudged you with his shoulder, saying,
"Well, he totally kills David in that movie, babe. It's nice to get some payback." He said, and you hummed. You supposed he deserved it if you thought about it that way. You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"Well, he's not going to this time, so don't do anything you don't have to." You said, and they all more or less agreed. It didn't take long after that for Paul to attempt to kick everyone out, but his attempts were proven to be futile when Marko reminded him of their new sleeping arrangements. Paul whined, cuddling up next to you and pulling you close. Eventually, after a brief shared look with Marko, you proposed the idea of Paul staying with you as well. He was quick to agree, and, that night, you laid on your back to accommodate the two sleeping vampires. At one point throughout the day, Marko said,
"Paul, that's me you're grabbing." And both you sleepily giggled at the sound of Pauls hand moving against the sheet as he retracted it, and the small, 
"Oh." That escaped his lips.
The next night was slow. All they needed to do was scare the shit out of Michael and Sam, and then visit Max while Michael went to lay the moves on Star. You, unfortunately, were in a very awkward position. You could come with them when they went to harass the Emerson's, but you definitely couldn't come with them to Max's. And, the boys couldn't necessarily drop you off and pick you back up from the cave, just because Michael would be there. The idea of you hanging out at the boardwalk and waiting for them had been tossed around, but it wasn't until that night that you really considered it. You did not want to be in the cave when Michael came to make his moves. Suddenly, you understood a little bit of how Star must've felt the past few months. 
So, with far too little enthusiasm, you decided that you would wait on the boardwalk for them. You'd kissed them each goodbye, as you didn't have an audience of half-vampires to see it. But, now that you were there, you wholeheartedly regretted that decision. You popped your collar up against the nights chill, doing your best to protect your neck as you walked through the crowds. It was busy, as busy as usual. 
You had walked up and down the boardwalk a million times, but only once without the boys by your side. And never at night. Most of the surf-nazi's stayed in the water during the day, but you quickly found out that they flocked to the boardwalk at night. You didn't know if it was just a build-up of nerves from the movie or if it was the fact that your boys weren't with you, but you practically scurried away the second you heard the sound of a group of teenage to twenty-something year olds gathering on the boardwalk. After wandering around the boardwalk for a little while, you passed the Frogs comic store. Inside, you could hear Alan say,
"Okay, we'll come over and do it for you." And your ears perked. You paused for a moment near the outside stack, listening to Edgar say,
"Well, you better get a garlic tshirt, buddy, or it's your funeral." Edgar hung up the phone that they'd been previously crowded around, and you saw the pair of them notice you. They didn't look pleased to see you, and you guessed your biweekly visits turning into nearly daily wasn't exactly a welcome sight. You didn't spare them a smile, and you simply let the comics slip back into their spots before you turned and walked away. The Frogs' eyes followed you the entire time until you were no longer in sight.
When the boys finally caught up with you only about an hour and a half later, you were relieved at the sight of them. The five of you were able to have a night alone, and, after the usual rounds, you decided to ditch the boardwalk for one of your favorite all-night diners.
You squeezed into a corner booth, getting stuck between Marko and David. The five of you ate, laughed, and, finally, relaxed. It felt nice to let loose, and you took the opportunity to lay your head on David's shoulder as you laughed along with your boys. You were able to hold David's hand, and you didn't have to consciously think about monitoring your actions. It felt good. Nice. They played rounds of paper football, and Marko started an almost violent game of spitball. It only ended when one of them spit one at Dwayne and it got caught in his hair, and he even sent you a look when you couldn't stop giggling.
While you were having a good time, you knew that, eventually, the four of them had to eat. And you knew diner food wasn't going to help. So, after lots of promising to Paul, you were allowed one more solo ride on his bike. Even after you'd kissed and said goodbye to all of them, he stood in front of you, held the handlebars, and stared at you with the most serious expression you'd ever seen on his face.
"You did good last time, but that doesn't mean you should be any less careful. Darling? Sugar? Pudding pop? I love you, but, please, don't crash my baby." You gave him a small smile, and a small tilt of your head. You were almost positive that he hadn't even realized he'd said those words to you, and you leaned forward to press a kiss on one cheek, the other cheek, and then on his lips. It made his serious expression falter, and you could tell he was melting by how his arms began to buckle. 
"I promise, okay? I love you too." You told him, your voice quieting as you returned the words. You watched his brain short-circuit and quickly reboot, trying its best to comprehend what had just happened. You didn't warn him that Marko and Dwayne were walking closer, as he was far too busy to notice. Before he could say anything else, Dwayne grabbed him by the back of his jacket and yanked him away from the bike. 
"She's not gonna crash it, dude. Just let her ride. Now, I'm starving, so c'mon. Bye, babe." Marko said, half-dragging half-leading Paul towards his bike. You mouthed a "thank you" to the both of them, and called a final goodbye to all of them as you pulled your helmet on. They watched as you revved the engine to life, and then lurched forward to head towards Hudson's Bluff. You didn't see how Paul swayed for a moment, a wistful smile on his face as he repeated the words over and over in his mind. He turned to the boys, a bigger grin growing on his face. 
"Did you guys hear that?" He asked, and they almost wished you hadn't said it just so they wouldn't have to hear Paul talk about it the entire ride to the beach. Whether that was out of annoyance or envy, they preferred not to think about it.
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luvdsc · 4 years
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i dare you.
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truth: do you like me? dare: prove it.
pairing :: lee donghyuck x reader genre :: angst, fluff / best friend + college au word count :: 3,176 words warnings :: none playlist :: cover up (taeyeon) ⋆ wish you were sober (conan gray) ⋆ fever dream (mxmtoon) ⋆ candy so good (the rose) ⋆ bubble gum (clairo) ⋆ can i call you tonight (dayglow) author’s note :: this is a bff2lovers support blog
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The game of truth or dare has been going on for several rounds already, and Donghyuck comfortably lounges on the couch tucked in the corner, leaning against an armrest. He lightly shakes the cup in his hand, swirling the last remnants of jungle juice around, before nimbly tossing back the rest of it. It’s a circle of sixteen or so people, and as he looks around, he can somewhat make out the faces of his closest friends. Except he’s missing one: you, his best friend ever since you handed him your red crayon after he broke his in preschool.
But now, for a little over a year, he’s been wishing that being your BF stands for more than just your designated Best Friend. Maybe, it can also include BoyFriend. But that’s just wishful thinking.
Hazy eyes flitting around the entire expanse, Donghyuck looks for the reason of his heartache and finally finds you standing on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall and accepting a red cup from Hyunjin with a pretty smile. Who invited him? He definitely wasn’t a part of Nu Chi Theta.
The familiar green eyed monster rears its ugly head again when he notices how the distance between you and that pretty boy decreases. Grimacing slightly, he reaches forward and grabs a shot from the table, quickly swallowing all its contents.
Renjun lazily spins the bottle in the center after answering his truth from Tzuyu, and it lands on the unsuspecting Donghyuck. He notices the distracted look in his friend’s eyes, following his gaze until he sees you, and a mischievous glint appears in his eyes.
“Hyuck, it’s your turn,” Renjun announces, and Donghyuck is startled, turning to face his grinning friend. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” he replies confidently, and Renjun’s grin only widens. His friend’s gaze darts towards you and then back at him knowingly, and Donghyuck starts to feel his hands growing clammy. It seems that he was a little too obvious.
“I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.”
The dare that comes out of Renjun’s mouth has Donghyuck tensing up in his spot, sobering him up for a split second. His friend merely raises his eyebrows, challenging him, and he swallows hard before putting on an air of nonchalance. He wipes the sweat on his palms against the fabric of his jeans and grabs another one of the shots from the center of the circle, downing it before standing up. He’s not one to be nervous, especially with the amount of confidence he possesses and the amount of alcohol currently swimming through his veins, yet he is.
Jaemin and Jeno lift their heads up in interest as they watch him make his way towards you: you, who is unsuspecting and laughing at something that Hyunjin just said.
Have you always looked this gorgeous?
You are so damn stunning, throwing your head back and letting the prettiest sound Donghyuck ever heard escape from between your lips. The bright strobe lights don’t do enough justice for you, but he can see the way your eyes glimmer and the flashing of your teeth as your lips upturn into the loveliest of smiles. Yet, the blood in his veins boils because he should be the only one who makes you laugh like that, and not some other pretty boy.
He marches his way over there, swaying slightly from the beers he downed earlier, before looping his arm around your waist and pulling you towards him, placing the most delicate, softest kiss onto your lips.
Startled, you nearly drop your red cup and take a step back as you stare your best friend with wide eyes, your heart now beating faster than ever. And perhaps, it was more because of the boy in question, rather than the unexpected show of affection. “What the heck, Hyuck?”
He tugs you close again and merely nuzzles his face in your neck, wrapping himself around you even more. You turn to face him, and he lifts his head up, clouded eyes and flushed skin in full view now. His face is close, too close, and his lips are painted in the prettiest shade of rosy pink. If you move just a few millimeters forward, your lips would brush his again. Hurriedly, you toss away that silly idea as your cheeks warm up at that thought.
When did these feelings start to show up and skirt around your heart? Was it when you noticed he always added a pack of Haribo sour gummy bears for you to the shopping basket during those late night convenience store runs without you asking? Or was it when you texted him at 3 a.m. about a Pokémon you don’t have that’s nearby outside and he tells you to go to bed, but five minutes later, he’s standing outside of your dorm, knocking on your door with mussed hair and a haphazardly thrown on sweater, telling you to hurry up, so he can go back to sleep? Or maybe it’s when you realized just how happy he makes you when he laughs at your lame jokes that he would’ve made fun of Jeno for saying?
Or perhaps, it’s a culmination of all those things plus all the other tiny moments and endearing, although sometimes infuriating, attributes of his that made you fall in love with your best friend.
“You’re really pretty, y’know?” He mumbles, and your cheeks burn even more before you shake your head, noting bitterly to yourself that your best friend is completely intoxicated. Of course. He doesn’t like you in that way at all, so there’s no use in getting your hopes up. Drunken kisses are sober mistakes.
“Hyuck, you’re drunk.” You let out a sigh before wrapping an arm around his waist and throwing an apologetic glance towards Hyunjin. “Let’s get you home.”
“Let me help you,” Hyunjin offers, reaching out to take some of Donghyuck’s weight off of you. Your best friend swats his hand away from you. “Get your own Y/N. This one is taken.”
“He’s just trying to help,” you scold him, blood rushing to your cheeks at the sound of Donghyuck calling you his. He simply ignores the other boy, clinging onto you even tighter. You say good bye to Hyunjin, who kindly takes your empty cup, before tugging your best friend towards the stairs and to his bedroom upstairs.
On your way there, you catch Renjun’s attention. He smirks at you, eyes twinkling, as he glances towards Donghyuck and then back at you. Face burning, you roll your eyes before giving him the universal middle finger salute, his laughter subsequently echoing behind you.
You’re just best friends. Friends take care of each other. And so what if he kissed you? He’s naturally affectionate. And add on the fact that he’s drunk, so his affection just came out tenfold. It meant nothing.
Right?
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Something’s been bothering you for the past few days, and Donghyuck can tell as he sits across from you for lunch. You’re doing that thing where you fiddle with the small Winnie the Pooh charm on your iPhone, wrapping the string part around your finger before letting go and repeating your earlier actions. He reaches over and untangles the charm from your hand before putting your phone in front of you, his hand grazing yours for a millisecond, and your heart nearly stops at the sudden contact.
“Something’s been on your mind. Spill it.” He studies your reaction, and you know you can’t lie to your best friend. He’ll know even before the words are out of your mouth.
“Do you remember the Theta party last Friday?”
“Yeah, I kinda have to,” he snorts, resting his chin on his hand. “I had to help clean up the next day with a raging hangover.”
“Why’d you kiss me?” you ask abruptly, twisting the hair tie around your wrist a bit nervously. It’s better to just rip off the bandaid and let it out in the open after all.
Donghyuck freezes, brain short circuiting. He had hoped that you’d just chalk it up to his drunken state that night, and he could continue to ignore his feelings like he’s done for the past thirteen months, six hours, and twenty seven minutes. But he can’t. He shouldn’t. So maybe he should just say it. Tell you the reason why. After all, drunken actions are sober thoughts.
Yet, although he prides himself for being brave, for being outspoken, when it comes to his feelings, when it comes to you, he feels like a coward. At the thought of rejection, the fickle feelings of love, and all the what if’s, he thinks it’s better to remain your best friend than lose you altogether. So he racks his brain for an excuse, but all he can come up with is the half truth. 
“It was a dare.”
Your face falls before you can hide the disappointment, and it yanks at his heartstrings, leaving him to stammer out a poorly executed follow up, back tracking as fast as he can. “It wasn’t a bad dare! Renjun made me do it, and I just...”
“A dare?” you say softly before giving him a half hearted, teasing smile, desperately trying to conceal your true feelings. “Like what? To kiss your best friend? So I beat out Mark, huh?”
Your response has him pausing from blurting out the rest of the truth. You seem so calm and nonchalant about it, like the kiss has no effect on you whatsoever, an unspoken rejection. The mere thought of that almost cracks his heart in two, and he crumples the napkin in front of him, lowering his eyes.
“Uh, well... something like that.”
The two of you lapse into silence after that, a stifled awkwardness plaguing the table, before it becomes unbearable for you, and you stand up, picking up your empty plate to drop off at the cleaning station.
“I gotta go. I have class soon.”
Donghyuck murmurs a quiet good bye to you and helplessly watches as you walk away. He knows you’re lying. He memorized your schedule by heart the second you sent it to him at the beginning of the semester, and you finished all your classes for the day in the morning already.
He flattens out the balled up napkin, staring at the confession he had carefully penned down earlier before you sat down. The black scribbles stare back at him, almost as if they’re mocking him. He rips up the paper into shreds.
He wishes he was braver earlier.
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Friday night brings you back into the all too familiar atmosphere of the Nu Chi Theta house. You entered the scene later than usual, caught up earlier with a paper on sustainable technology due at midnight. You were more than content with staying in your dorm for the night, curling up in a blanket for a Brooklyn 99 marathon, but your roommate, Lia, insisted you go out with her.
When you had told her about the conflicting matter regarding a certain dark haired boy swirling around in your mind, she had frowned, calling Donghyuck a complete idiot, and her next words still echo in your head.
“That’s what the idiot said? That wasn’t the dare. Renjun dared him to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.”
So why did he lie?
The butterflies in your stomach refuse to settle, whether it was from knowing you’ll see him tonight or the implications behind that kiss or possibly a combination of both. Renjun easily spots you in the crowd, and refusing to take no for an answer, he pulls you over to sit next to him and to partake in the game that started this all. Lia had simply laughed and waved you good bye before nimbly making her way into the dancing crowd.
Your eyes easily finds Donghyuck’s across from you, and his eyes widen in surprise. You haven’t seen him since the lunch incident, and you should’ve known that you’d see him tonight. He’s a member of this fraternity after all. You give him a small smile, and maybe it’s the alcohol running through his veins, but you could have sworn his cheeks turned a darker shade of red under the harsh neon lights. He looks away, and it stings a lot more than it should. Biting your bottom lip, you focus your gaze on the bottle in the center.
Jaemin reaches for the glass and gives it a twirl. The bottle neck ends up pointing just left of Donghyuck towards Yerim, and you notice Jeno not so subtly kick the table. The bottle rolls slightly before facing your best friend.
“Oh, would you look at that! Hyuck, truth or dare?” Jaemin exclaims, grinning a little too brightly.
“Jeno did that on purpose,” Donghyuck grumbles, throwing a stink eye at the aforementioned boy who merely offers him an innocent smile. “Dare.”
Renjun leans over towards Jaemin, whispering something to him, and he only brightens up even more. There’s that sinking feeling in your stomach, and you know they’re up to no good. Looking around the room, you catch the eyes of Hyunjin, who waves at you happily with a broad smile. Maybe you’ll feel better if you hang out with someone else for a change and take your mind and heart off of the boy in front of you.
Donghyuck’s eyes darken when he notices your attention directed at Hyunjin. He almost scoffs. Again, who invited him? And what’s Hyunjin got that he doesn’t? Okay, so maybe that pretty boy is a few centimeters taller than him, but Donghyuck is still prettier, wittier, funnier, and smarter, right?
Does Hyunjin know the exact number of miniature marshmallows that you like in your hot chocolate? Does he know that you have a tiny star shaped scar on your knee because you fell off your bike in first grade, and Donghyuck was the one who put a dinosaur patterned bandage on it? Does he know that when you’re happy, you like to play Avril Lavigne’s Sk8er Boi on blast and belt out the lyrics? Does he know when you think a joke is really funny, you let out the smallest snort at the end of your laugh which you try to cover up, but Donghyuck thinks it’s the cutest noise ever?
Does Hyunjin know how much he loves you?
“Hyuck,” Jaemin pokes him. “Are you listening?”
“No,” he deadpans, and Jaemin sighs. Your attention is on Donghyuck now, head tilted slightly as you softly smile at him, raising your eyebrow. Your expression is guarded, and for the first time in his life, he doesn’t know why. But Jaemin nudges him again, and he lets out a huff before turning toward his friend, who smiles impishly before saying:
“I dare you to call your crush and confess.”
You and Donghyuck both inhale sharply at that.
Thousands of thoughts rush into your mind, yet the most prominent one is: your best friend has a crush, and he never told you. The two of you have shared your previous crushes in the past, yet he’s never mentioned this one? A shock of betrayal runs through your body as you wrack your brain to think back to any previous hints or mentioning that he liked someone. Never mind the fact that you didn’t tell him about your current crush because that would mean confessing, but if you were in love with someone else, he would definitely be the first to know.
But maybe it’s for the better, you think bitterly to yourself. It would be near impossible for you to hide your feelings any longer. Perhaps, this is the reason why he didn’t tell you about the dare. It would make everything so much more complicated.
But your stomach twists and turns at the thought of him asking someone out, kissing someone else, loving someone who isn’t you, and suddenly, you don’t want to play anymore. You mumble something about getting a drink from the kitchen to Renjun before standing up, easily brushing away his hand when he protests.
Donghyuck watches as you begin to get up, panic rising in his chest, and before he knows it, he’s scrambling to pull out his phone. All it takes is five seconds. Five seconds for you to walk away. Five seconds to lose you. Five seconds to type in that familiar string of numbers and hit send. Five seconds of courage. Five seconds to take that leap from friendship to something more.
It’s now or never, and he’s never been so sure of one thing in his life until this very moment. Heart thudding erratically in his chest, he hurriedly types in the number he’s memorized by heart—the one he secretly saved as My Sunflower 🌻—and finally presses the green button.
You pause when you hear the familiar blaring ringtone and feel the vibration in your back pocket. Immediately, your eyes land on Donghyuck, and he’s already looking at you with the softest, most endearing, most vulnerable expression on his features that wrenches your heart. Eyes glimmering, he smiles at you a little bit uncertainly before speaking up, voice wavering at the end.
“Someone’s calling you, and I think he has something really important to say, so will you please pick it up?”
With shaky hands, you take out your phone, heart nearly leaping out of your chest, as you stare at the screen, lips curving into a delighted smile that you cannot suppress.
Full Sun ☀️💘 is calling.
“Hello?”
Phone pressed to your ear, you slightly tilt your head to the side, shyly smiling, and relief is written all over his face for a split second before Donghyuck positively beams. He continues to gaze at you, pretty little stars dancing in his eyes that crinkle in the corners and the rosiest hue of red blooming on his cheeks.
“Hi. I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me. Because I kinda, sorta, maybe am completely in love with you.”
This is the boy who made fun of you for wearing glittery Mary Janes on the first day of kindergarten, but also threw sand at the other boys who decided to poke fun at you. This is the boy who saved all the blue raspberry Jolly Ranchers he got on Halloween to give to you. This is the boy who brought you tubs of New York Super Fudge Chunk when you experienced your first heartbreak and refrained from saying “I told you so” until after you finally got over that douchebag. This is the boy who made you stay up all night before a final to help him put rainbow streaks in his hair, but also helped you ace the exam. This is the boy who has the biggest heart out of everyone you know, and he’s wearing it on his sleeve for you.
This is the boy whom you love.
And he loves you back.
“I’d love that. Because I kinda, sorta, maybe am completely in love with you, too.”
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granolabird · 3 years
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I’ll Always be There For You
Tonights episode was a doozy. BUT!! We got some solid Hournite moments so I’m here with a fic of Beth taking care of Rick after his fight with Artemis, and they have a conversation regarding Rick’s self-sacrifice habits. 
Warnings: Mention of injury. Lots of fluff :)
Post 2x06 so if you’re not there yet in the show, there are spoilers ahead!
Tagging @blackfemmecharacterdependency 
!! If you want to be tagged for next Tuesday’s Hournite fic feel free to ask :)
.
It’s late at the Pit Stop, but neither Beth nor Rick want to go home. Yolanda is long gone, having to comply with the curfew set by her parents, leaving Beth and Rick alone. So here they are, sitting close as they try to comprehend what’s happened. Things had been going so well, and then Eclipso had escaped, killing Issaac, Cindy, and possibly The Shade too. Rick adjusts in his chair with a grimace, his breathing labored as he struggles with the pain of his broken rib.
“Rick! Are you okay?”
Rick forces a smile onto his face as he turns to Beth,
“I’ll be alright, yeah.”
“Are you sure? There’s not much I can do, broken ribs need to heal on their own but I can double check that everything’s okay, if you want?”
“It’s a broken rib, it’ll heal in time. I’ve had one before, I’ll live.” “You’ve had one before!? Rick, how do you get yourself into these situations?”
“It wasn’t my fault. It was Matt.”
“Oh.”
A moment of silence, and Rick sighs as he sees Beth begin to fidget restlessly. She does that whenever she isn’t sure what to say. He’s pretty sure it’s a habit she’s picked up from him.
“There is something you can help with.” He offers, and Beth immediately perks up, looking his way.
“Really?” “I think there’s a cut on my arm from one of the porcelain shards from my fight with Artemis. Now that the rib pain is starting to settle, my arm is really starting to hurt.” He rolls his left arm as he says it, and Beth gets up immediately, sliding around him to look at his arm.
“Well, roll your sleeve up and I’ll take a look.” She gestures to his injured arm, and he forces back a wince as he rolls up his sleeve. 
“Jeez!” 
“What? Is it that bad?” Rick cranes his head to see his wound, but stops when it sends a jolt of pain through his cracked ribs. “Well it’s not that good. But you’ll live.” Beth provides a small laugh and Rick is glad that she still has the capacity to joke despite everything they’d witnessed tonight.
Beth walks over to the table and begins organising her first aid kit, grabbing cotton balls, rubbing alcohol and bandages and putting them into a neat stack.
“Doesn’t your costume protect you from injury? How did this happen?” She asks, and Rick sighs, rubbing the back of his neck with his good arm.
“The cape protects me. The costume is just as vulnerable as I would be without it on.” He explains and Beth’s head shoots up, her eyes wide.
“Rick!” Her tone is accusatory.
“What?” “You jumped in front of me when Artemis shot at me. If those arrows didn’t hit your cape, they could’ve killed you!”
“It was worth the risk. I couldn’t let anything happen to you. I’d never forgive myself if something happened and I could’ve saved you.” And that’s the honest truth. 
If anything happened to Beth, it would be the end for Rick. He would go off the deep end, let his rage consume him, probably get himself killed doing something stupid. She was the only person he truly trusted, the person who always had his back no matter what. The two of them had a bond like no others on the team, they grounded one another, and kept each other safe and sane. If something were to happen to Beth… Rick can’t even bring himself to think of what he might do to whoever had done it.
“Rick.” He had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t realized Beth had sidled up to him with her medical supplies tucked under her arm. He doesn’t look at her, not sure if his words had been too intimate. This is just like him, to go and say something that ruins a relationship, now things are going to be awkward between him and Beth and-
There’s a soft hand on his cheek, directing him to look at Beth.
“Rick.” She’s got such a deep look of concern on her face and it tugs at his heartstrings to see her so worried for him.
“Yeah?”
“You don’t need to risk yourself for me. I can fend for myself.”
“No, Beth, you can’t. You don’t have strength like me and Yolanda, or a weapon like Court. You have your goggles, and you're brilliant, but on the battlefield I worry that isn’t enough. I worry that it’ll get you hurt one day, and if you get hurt I won’t know what to do with myself.”
Her hand is still resting on his cheek, and as he makes eye contact with her he can see she’s formulating a reply, trying to find words to reassure Rick that she’ll be alright. 
“If I get hurt, then you’ll get me to safety. You always do.”
“Beth, we saw Issac and Cindy die tonight. That could’ve been any of us. I can’t get you to safety if you’re… if you...”
“I could say the same about you.” She shakes her head softly and lifts her hand from his face, kneeling to begin cleaning his arm wound.
“That’s different.” Rick huffs, trying not to jerk his arm away when he feels the sting of rubbing alcohol on his cut.
“Really? How?” Beth asks, giving Rick a side glance.
“I’m me. I can take a lot of hits, and if something happens to me? The world keeps turning. I’m more of a nuisance than anything.”
“Rick!”
“It’s true! I have no potential, I’m not going anywhere with my life. You, on the other hand? Beth, you’re destined for great things. Everyone loves you, and you make everyone’s life better. I make everything worse. That’s just who I am.”
“I am going to give you a stern talking to as soon as I finish bandaging your arm. I just need to focus, give me a moment.” Beth huffs, as she begins to wrap Rick’s arm. 
Rick can’t help but laugh, but his chuckle causes the pain in his ribs to flare, making him stop abruptly with a grunt. 
It’s a while before Beth is done, but as soon as she is she gets up, face determined, and pulls her chair in front of Rick. Then she sits so her knees are touching his, and frowns at him. Rick can’t help but smile a little. She looks so cute when she’s trying to be angry at him.
“Hey! Don’t smile, this is serious business.”
“Right, sorry, no smiling.” 
He still smiles just a little.
“Rick, we care about you. You know that right? He shrugs awkwardly, looking at the floor. “Yolanda, Court, Pat, Mike, me, we all care about you. You can’t just keep putting yourself in danger for us saying it’s because you don’t matter, because you do matter! You matter to us!” 
A pause, and then she says a little quieter
“You matter to me.”
He looks up at her, and there are tears in her eyes. She’s genuinely concerned for him. Rick doesn’t know how to react. In all his life he cannot recall someone being so worried for his safety. His parents were, once, but his memory of them is so faded that he barely considers it real.
“You matter to me too.” It’s an awkward confession, but Beth provides Rick with a smile, and so Rick smiles back. The pair laugh for a while, until Rick’s ribs flare up again and he has to stop. 
“So, do you promise not to recklessly throw yourself into danger anymore?” Beth is back to her stern side, and he sighs.
“Fine. But if you’re in trouble there’s no guarantee.” 
“Rick!”
“Hey, I’m just being honest!”
“I appreciate your honesty, but I don’t want you to put yourself in danger because of me.” Beth pokes his knee indignantly.
“But I will. I’m sorry but I will, You’d do the same for me. It’s just the way we are, I think.” 
Beth throws her head back with a disgruntled huff.
“I hate that you’re right.”
He smiles at her, and when she moves her head back down to look at him he sees that she’s smiling softly too. 
“What are we gonna do with ourselves? We’re a mess.” Beth says with a breathy laugh, as she presses her head into her hands.
“Keep on protecting each other I guess.” That’s the best answer Rick can provide. It’s not perfect, but nothing ever is with him.
“Right.” Beth is looking at him again, and there’s something there. Some sort of tension, and Rick thinks there’s something she wants to say. Whatever it is, Beth leaves it unspoken and pushes her chair back, getting up. 
“Well, now that you’re all taken care of I should probably head home. I don’t want to get back too late.” She brushes herself off awkwardly and then starts to pack up her first aid kit.
“Oh, yeah. I’m staying here for the night, but I can give you a ride home, if you want?” Rick offers.
“Can you even drive with broken ribs?”
“Probably. It’s not that far anyway.”
“Alright, but if it hurts too much I can walk.”
Rick nods in agreement, and takes as deep of a breath as he can before he stands, powering through the pain. Then, he and Beth make their way down the stairs to his car. She hops into the passenger seat, and he slides into the driver seat. It’s quiet as he puts the key into the ignition, neither of them quite sure what to say after the deep conversation they’d just had. As the car begins to move, Beth speaks up.
“Thanks, Rick.”
“For giving you a ride? I always do that, you don’t need to thank me every time.”
“For everything. For saving me, for being there for me, and for giving me a ride. And for every other thing you’ve done to keep me together through everything. Just… thanks.”
“Oh. Uh, you're welcome I guess? It’s nothing you wouldn’t have done for me.”
“You always say that, but that’s not the point. The point is, over the last little while you’ve done so much to help me. And I’m grateful for that. You don’t need to compare yourself to me. Just know that I’m grateful.”
“I… Alright.” Rick taps his fingers on the steering wheel awkwardly as they pull down Beth’s street, and then stop in front of her house. 
There’s another moment of tense silence that is so common between the unsure teens, and then Beth turns and throws herself at Rick, embracing him in a hug. Rick is startled for a moment, and then the pain in his ribs sets in and he lets out a faint
“Ow. My ribs, Beth.”
“Oh! I’m so sorry! I entirely forgot!” She lets go instantly, and she looks him over frantically. 
“It’s okay Beth, I’m fine.” He chuckles, and that eases her worry. 
She still checks him over one last time with her goggles just to be sure, and then unbuckles her seatbelt and opens her door.
“I guess if you’re sure you're ok I should get going... Um... goodnight.”
“Goodnight Beth. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow! And if you start coughing up blood, or the pain gets worse, call an Ambulance! Don’t call me, I am not a medical professional. Do call me afterwards though, so I can make sure you’re okay.”
“Okay Beth. I’ll be fine.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
They share one last Smile, before Beth closes the car door and heads to her house, throwing one last look over her shoulder and waving to Rick. Rick gives her a small wave back, before turning around and driving back to the Pit Stop. After tonight, Rick isn’t sure what the two of them are to each other. There was some sort of admittance, he’s not quite sure how to explain it. It wasn’t a grand confession of love, but it was something. Something has changed between them, and all Rick can do is grip his steering wheel and hope it'll all turn out alright. Somewhere deep inside, beyond his shattered ribs, he knows it’ll turn out alright.
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Lovedust Pt.8 || Peter Parker x Stark Reader
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Summary: Y/N and Josh talk things over about where they stand as Y/N tries to build the courage to confess to Peter. One night on top of the roof, Y/N and Peter reveal any secrets they’ve been keeping from each other. 
Word Count: 5k
Author’s Note: This is technically the last part of Lovedust but there will be an epilogue. I was going to go a whole different direction and make it too angsty because sometimes, life works out that way but you guys deserve a happy ending ;) This series was only meant to be about three parts long but because of ow supportive and kind you all have been, I just have no words except thank you all so much. I will give a better thank you for the epilogue  but until then, enjoy the chapter. 
Warning: adult language
part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || epilogue 
You stared up at your bedroom ceiling quietly, picking at the stitching of your blanket to the point where you had about four inches of loose thread massaged between your thumb and middle finger.
Three minutes. 
Peter was presumed dead for three minutes as you were giving him CPR that was literally a race against the clock. One hundred eighty seconds was the span between life or death and you couldn’t help but think of what if you had stopped after a minute? What about one hundred and seventy-nine seconds?
Three minutes. Your mind was so fucked that the only thing you could compare the time to was that Peter was dead longer than the time it took to pop a bag of popcorn in the microwave.
You thought back to the time where you had gone to California with Tony where you were alone in the hotel room while he had a conference. You remembered how scared you felt when the ground started to shake underneath you as the earth rolled underneath.
That earthquake must’ve only lasted fifteen seconds tops and yet, you felt like it was an eternity of shielding yourself underneath one of the desks that would’ve surely broken if the roof caved in overhead.
It’s odd how times works, whenever you’re in a dangerous situation, your body literally slows downtime so you can have the best chance at survival. So while those three minutes didn’t seem like a long time, the lingering fear of losing Peter after everything sent your body through emotional distress like no other.
It felt like a cruel joke; you had only come to realize you were in love with him when he was dying in front of you. What was even crueler was that even though everything seemed less complicated now that you really understood how you felt about him, it was only the tip of the iceberg.
It had been a few days since you had seen Peter since the night of the party and you felt like you were slowly losing your sanity. Your dad tried convincing you that Peter needed to be monitored for a while but maybe he just wanted you two to stay away from each other since you practically almost killed him by kissing Josh.
You loved Peter and he “loved” you yet once he was cured, he wouldn’t share the same feelings for you. What would happen once he was cured? How different would things be between you, especially since you would be having feelings for someone who doesn’t love you back? 
Loving someone who surely wasn’t in love with you felt like a whole new level of self-destruction.
Your phone rang from underneath your pillow and temporarily interrupted your thoughts. You reached under the pillow to pull out your phone to find that Josh was calling you. 
You inhaled sharply as you practically leaped out from under your covers, unsure of what to do. 
The last you heard from Josh was the night of the party but just like Peter, you hadn’t seen or spoke to him since. That wasn’t the full truth, Josh had been texting you to make sure you were okay but you didn’t have the strength to even reply to his worried texts. 
Poor Josh. He felt like an innocent bystander who got hit in the crossfire of what was going on between you and Peter.
In past relationships, you were like Josh. Your past boyfriends seem to always treat you as a rebound, a backup in case things went south and as gross as it made you feel, it was like you could sort of understand why your exes felt that way.
You didn’t want to lead Josh on, he was too nice of a guy to deserve that type of treatment. Your thumb hovered over the screen and you answered his call at the last second. He deserved that at the least.
“ Hey sorry, I was um, preoccupied. Is everything okay?” You asked as you started to pace your room.
“ I was going to ask the same for you. You haven’t been answering my texts and I was getting worried.”
You bit the inside of your cheek as a wave of guilt washed over you,” Y-Yeah I’m sorry. I’ve just been going through some stuff. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“ You don’t have to apologize, I get it. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something in person, are you doing anything at the moment? 
You rolled your shoulders back as you let out a deep sigh. In all honesty, you didn’t feel like leaving your room but if you were going to pick Peter over Josh, you also would have to owe him an explanation.
“ Okay, where do you want to meet?”
“ We can meet outside your complex, I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
“ Oh that’s probably easier anyway, when are you gonna come over?” You asked as you fell backwards onto your bed.
“ Um...I’m already outside.”
Your eyes widened as you scrambled over to your window to squint out towards the entrance. Sure enough, if you squinted really hard, you could make out Josh’s car outside the front gate.
“ Oh fuck! Sorry um, I’m coming out now!” You didn’t bother to let Josh respond as you hung up the phone and practically rushed out of your bedroom.
You practically sprinted across the front lawn all the way to the entrance and once you opened the gate, you leaned your body against the side of Josh’s car to help catch your breath.  
“ You didn’t have to run all the way here, I could’ve waited,” Josh said with a smile as he watched you struggling.
“ I know,” You huffed as you felt yourself calm down,” but it would have been awkward if you just stood there for five minutes and watched me walk the whole way.”
“ Okay, that’s fair,” Josh chuckled as he leaned against the side of his car beside you,” I wanted to talk to you about the night of the party. I just want to make sure you’re okay and I’m sorry if I overstepped by kissing you. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”
You felt your heartstrings tug at his words as you looked down at your flip flops. You didn’t know how to explain to him that he wasn’t the one who overstepped but that the kiss was never supposed to happen. 
“ You don’t have to apologize Josh and you didn’t make me uncomfortable at all. It’s just...I know how you feel about me and don’t get me wrong, I’m so flattered that you actually like me because to be honest, you’re way out of my league but um,” You awkwardly rubbed your sweaty hands against your pajama bottoms and let out a shaky breath,” I thought things were fine and that they would go back to normal but um, things kinda just happened and you were there and I thought hey he’s cute, like super cute, and Kim was being so pushy-”
“ I know you have feelings for Peter, it’s okay Y/N,” Josh interrupted as he took a moment before wincing,” I didn’t mean to interrupt you but I had a feeling that’s where you were heading with it. Plus you ramble when you’re nervous and I don’t want you to say something embarrassing. ”
Bless his soul, Josh really would be the death of you.
“ Is it that obvious I like him?” 
“ Painfully obvious yeah. I kinda figured you two had something going on but after you gave him CPR and you two gave each other that look, that’s when it all clicked for me,” Josh said as you felt the tips of your ears get hot.
“ Josh, I am so sorry. I really mean it when I say that you’re the sweetest guy I have ever met and I really do wish you the best,” You answered honestly and you felt even guiltier when Josh only shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips.
You couldn’t believe that even now as you were telling Josh you didn’t share feelings for him that he was still being incredibly sweet towards you. 
“ Same goes for you, I hope he treats you the way you deserve to be treated. I have to be honest and say that I can’t get rid of my feelings for you overnight but hopefully we can be friends somewhere along the line,” Josh offered as you felt your heart snap in two.
As you looked back at Josh, that’s when you could really make out the distinct difference between the two boys. You weren’t sure if what Josh was saying was truthful, he was harder to read than Peter and even though his mouth was saying one thing, you could see that there was some pain behind his brown eyes that told a different story. 
Yet nonetheless, you admired that Josh, despite having the full right to completely guilt you and make you feel like shit because of what happened, still chose to put any malicious intent aside for your own good.  
“ Is it okay if I hug you?” You asked as Josh returned a sweet smile, embracing you in his strong arms. 
Despite the heaviness in Josh’s chest, he felt his heart flutter at the feeling of your body pressed against his. The hug was short but even in those few seconds, Josh felt himself trying to take a mental picture of this moment, something he would replay over and over as he did his best to get over you. 
After Josh had left, you made your way back into your cave and hid out in your room for the rest of the night. You had school first thing in the morning and yet, you found yourself tossing and turning yet again. 
To cure your restless mind, you left your room and headed into the kitchen to make tea. You were never the type to drink tea but you didn’t have the patience to just lay in bed, at least this way you were occupying your mind with something else.
As the water boiled, you kept your eyes on Peter’s bedroom door, your knee bouncing up and down as if you were anticipating him opening it. You wondered how he was feeling, considering he almost died and all.
You just wished you could have the confidence to just go up and talk to him, to admit that it was him all along and that you chose him. 
You poured the tea into a mug and cradled it in your hands carefully as a pair of feet made their way into the kitchen. You turned around, anticipating Peter’s face but instead, you looked up to see your dad.
“ You didn’t hear it from me but Peter is up on the roof waiting for you. Just in case if you were wondering,” Tony said as he nonchalantly dragged his finger across the countertop and peeked his head towards your tea,” aren’t you glad I made you learn CPR? I know it was part of your lifeguard course but I’m glad it came in handy.”
“  Too soon,” You sighed as you watched your dad haphazardly look through the cupboards,” and I wasn’t wondering about Peter. I’m just minding my own business and then I’m heading to bed.”
“ Minding your own business? That’s not the Y/N I know.”
“ Well, what would the Y/N you know do?” You asked as you looked down at the inside of your mug,” am I supposed to just run over to the roof and profess my love for him?” 
Tony furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head,” I never said anything about love kiddo but the Y/N I know loves to talk so yeah, I expect some emotional reunion of the sort. You’ve always been known to be a bit theatrical.”
“ And who do you think I get that from?”
“ The one and only Potts,” Tony chuckled as a small smile crept onto your lips,” I don’t know what to say because I don’t think I can bring myself to give my daughter relationship advice about a guy who lives only a few doors down. If anything, it’s against my best interest but I will make this the one exception where I will intervene simply because if I don’t, no one else will. I think you should talk to Peter. He’s been through a lot and he has some things he needs to talk to you about.”
” Well he’s the one avoiding me so maybe he should come over and say it to my face,” You didn’t know why you turned so aggressive but you took a small sip of your tea to try and ease your nerves,” I know he’s been through a lot but we both have. That night of the party was just...too much for me. ”
“ You really are my daughter, always making it about you. You gotta give the kid a break.”
“ I- Dad it is all about me. That night fucking-not sorry- sucked and I don’t know what else to say. I jumped into a pool with my clothes on and I thought Peter was dead-”
“ But he’s not dead. He’s alive and breathing and waiting for you on the roof like I told you,” Tony interrupted as you exhaled slowly,” you love him, it’s a fathers worst nightmare but even I can see clear as day that you have feelings for him, are you going to tell me I’m wrong?”
You liked to think you knew yourself better than anyone else and for the most part, it was true. Tony was probably the closest to knowing who you really were as a person and yet, everything he was saying still wasn’t enough to make you less paranoid.
“ I wouldn’t say you’re wrong but I’m too scared to say out loud that you’re right,” You said as Tony rolled his eyes,” what? What did I say?”
“ You love to talk and yet, you never say enough. I don’t have the patience to stand here and listen to you beat around the bush,” Tony kneeled down towards one of the cupboards and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the shelf,” you have a problem. Let me know how things go with Peter. Or don’t. I’ll find out anyway.”
You stood there, mouth wide open as you watched Tony playfully bump into your shoulder, what a bastard,” Yeah sure! You’re the one drinking at three am but I’m the problem?”
Tony only gave you a hasty wave before turning the corner to where the elevators were, leaving you alone in the kitchen. He was right, everything he was saying made perfect sense and yet, it annoyed you on how right he was.
You had absolutely no idea how to start a conversation with Peter now that you were sure of your feelings and yet, all you wanted to do was find him and reveal everything to him. You looked between your bedroom door and the elevators. You could either go back to bed or you could talk to Peter and nervously choke on your words like a schoolgirl.
Fuck no.
You walked over to your room with your mug in one hand but before you could open the door, your legs started to move in the direction of the elevators, seemingly with a mind of their own.
Fuck it.
You stepped into the elevator and made your way up the floors until you hit the roof access. You hardly spent any of your time on the roof since you had no reason to ever be up there in the first place but once you opened the door,  you were immediately taken aback.
The greenroof took up almost half of the roof itself, the addition being nothing more than a general garden area to look aesthetically pleasing from the sky. Since most of the energy needed to run the facility was either solar or space related, the greenroof was more of a private garden that didn’t account for energy efficiency.
A mixture of moss and summer grass covered the roof in a thick blanket that never grew beyond the border of the garden and at first glance, the brightly freckled flowers planted along the pathway seemed random but as you walked down the graveled path, you could tell that there was some element of planning that went along with it.
Along the pathway stood different hues of green bonsai trees that stood tall and proud in their wooden boxes. You were so focused on the bonsais that you didn’t notice Peter sitting on one of the benches about a couple of yards away.
Your breath hitched in your throat but your feet continued to crunch along the graveled pathway as you made your way over to him. From Peter’s spot underneath the patio, he could hear you walking towards him but kept his eyes looking straight forward, unable to tear them away from the cityscape in the far distance.
You hesitantly took a seat beside Peter on the wooden bench and tucked your legs back so you could rest the mug on your thigh. The lights that Peter had strung up a few weeks back had lost it’s brightness, leaving behind a faded orange glow in its place but it was just the right amount of light needed to where you could read his expression carefully.
“ How are you feeling?” You asked quietly as you attempted to get a feel for what mindset Peter was in.
“ Good, I feel good,” Peter said back, almost quieter than the volume you started out with,” how are you feeling?”
While both of your minds were racing at the thought of the other person, the thoughts suddenly felt almost too personal, the atmosphere being instantly filled with the conversations you two weren’t having.
Out of the two of you, Peter felt like he had more to share and yet, more to hide. You were still completely clueless on the following; A) Peter was cured B) You cured him because of the kiss and C) He loved you back
It seemed like a dream come true, Peter was still in love with you without the lovedust and you felt the same way towards him and yet, he was still terrified. As everything began to feel more and more real, suddenly the idea of being with you made his chest tighten up.
He never knew if he could ever admit it outloud but he was scared that you liked him back because what if after all this time, after all the trials and tribulation the two of you had gone through, what if you two still didn’t work out?
There was so much history between the two of you and he was worried that all of the heartbreak and pining wouldn’t be worth it in the end. He loved you so much to where he knew that he needed you no matter what. It only hurt him more to think that from your last argument, you couldn’t even bring yourself to admit to him that you loved him. 
Now that you were here in front of him, Peter would make sure you wouldn’t leave without hearing you say it back. 
As Peter tried to carefully put his thoughts in order like he had practiced, you thought back to what your dad had told you and decided that you needed to start somewhere and you had to do that by being honest.
“ I’ve been struggling these last couple of days with what happened at the party. I can’t tell how you guilty I feel for putting you through so much pain and I wish I could take it all back. I feel so guilty because it was my fault you died- did you know that? I know the paramedics talked to you but you were dead for three minutes Peter and honestly, that was one of the worst moments of my life. I mean it’s up there with what happened to my parents,” You paused as you remembered to take a breath,” I don’t know what I would’ve done if something had happened to you.”
Peter felt his mouth dry up and for a moment, it was hard to swallow,” You didn’t kill me, you saved me. I still feel like I might be in shock from it all but I don’t blame you for anything that happened. I’m sorry I even put you through that cause I’m sure it was...a lot. But don’t ever say that you killed me, none of it was your fault.”
“ It was my fault. If it wasn’t for me and Josh-,” You stopped yourself before saying more. You didn’t want to talk about Josh, all you cared about was Peter but now, the thought was evident in Peter’s mind and he couldn’t seem to shake it out of him.
The image of you kissing Josh replayed in Peter’s head over and over again as his heart ached. Josh made things more complicated than they already were.
Peter’s biggest fear was losing you but to lose you to another guy? And yet, it still made Peter feel like he was between a rock and a hard place because Peter had only meant Josh on one occasion and it was enough to give Peter an idea that Josh didn’t have cruel intentions towards you.
Just because you loved Peter didn’t mean that you didn’t have feelings for Josh and that’s what made Peter crazy. You must’ve liked Josh enough to return the kiss right?
“ He’s a good guy, I see why you like him,” Peter finally said as he shifted awkwardly in his seat, not knowing what else to say,” he would make you happy.”
The comment shakes you in an uncomfortable way, was that supposed to make you feel better? Your annoyance was jealousy in disguise, you didn’t want to talk about Josh, you were here to tell Peter how you actually felt about him but because of how Peter was delivering it, it seemed like he was giving you an out.
“ It’s not- I don’t like Josh like that.”
“ You kissed him, I saw the whole thing. Do you just go around kissing people you supposedly don’t like?” Peter couldn’t help himself and let the words slip out so easily.
It was a low blow and the two of you both knew it. 
It took every fiber of your being not to lash out at the accusation because you knew Peter had a right to be upset but you didn’t like what he was insinuating and you didn’t want the conversation to take a bad turn,” You don’t have to worry about Josh anymore. If you want me to be honest, yes, I thought there was something there but things changed. I came to talk to you because my dad said you needed to tell me something important but if you’re going to just sit here and belittle me, I’m not gonna take it. I get it, the lovedust is messing with your emotions but I’m extremely sensitive tonight, more than usual so just come back to me when you’re calm.”
You got up from your seat with a quickness but before you could step off the patio, Peter grabbed your wrist and pulled you back towards the corner of the bench.
Peter felt like such an idiot, whenever he got anxious on the fine details, he had a tendency to let the big picture escape him but it was something he knew he needed to work on while he was around you. He wasn’t going to let the conversation die just before it had started, he knew his big mouth tended to escalate conversations with you but he couldn’t let you go, not this time.
“ I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m just frustrated because this feels so one-sided. I never know what you’re thinking because you never tell me anything. You always avoid answering the question but I need more,” Peter practically begged as you felt yourself get a bit aggravated,” I am being calm but I’m desperate at this point. I need to know how you feel about me, don’t try to change the subject, I need to know. Tell me how I make you feel.”
Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as you pulled your hand away from Peter so you could regain your thoughts without him distracting you. You were suddenly chickening out, you had never felt so nervous in your entire life and you wanted to tell him how much you loved him. You wanted to tell him what he wanted to hear but it wasn’t easy taking a step forward when you don't know where your foot will fall.
“ This is hard for me Peter, I’m trying my best and I’m sorry if it isn’t good enough but ever since the lovedust, the dynamic is different and you’ve changed. It’s so much to get used to because of...how I feel towards you,” You said as Peter let out a frustrated breath.
He hated this feeling of going back and forth, he didn’t want to hear any of it. All he wanted was to just shake your shoulders because in his mind, you had no reason to be hesitant on opening up to him,” The lovedust didn’t change just me, it changed you too! I was vulnerable and I opened up to you, I showed you how I felt about you every second of the day but you have given me nothing!”
Nothing.
That word made your blood boil because nothing? Just because it was hard for you to let your emotions out didn’t mean Peter was getting nothing back in return. Since he was infected with the lovedust, you had been doing your best to open yourself more to him and you thought you had been doing a good job.
After all those years of Peter belittling you and tearing you down, of course, you would be a bit hesitant to let down your guard and yet, you did it anyway. It took so much to get to where you were comfortable with Peter to be vulnerable, especially when you broke down from your nightmare of your parents.
To break down and crumble in front of Peter wasn’t an accident, you could only be that vulnerable if you knew that he could help piece you back together.
“ Nothing? I gave you nothing?” You spat as you felt your eyes tear up,” I saved your life! I gave you the breath in my lungs to stop you from dying! I don’t owe you anything, I don’t need to prove shit to you!”
Peter stood up from the bench and while his heart ached from seeing you so upset, he knew that he couldn’t hold back,” Don’t pull that with me Y/N, you know you haven’t been honest with me. We both know that we can’t live without the other so don’t act like you did me a favor by saving me. Why won’t you admit it, even after everything we’ve been through, you’re still scared to just admit that you might love me!”
And just like that, you felt yourself let go.
“Of course I’m scared! I’m fucking terrified Peter! Is that what you want me to say? Do you want me to admit that me almost losing you would’ve broken me? Because you’re right! Yes, I love you!” You cried out as you took in a shaky breath,” I love you so much it hurts me and I didn’t understand how badly I loved you until I almost lost you! All I could think about when I was trying to save you was never hearing your laugh and never feeling your touch and I swear Peter, if you died, I would’ve never forgiven myself. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it but I love you.  But none of it matters, you know why? Because you’re sick in the head, the lovedust is fucking with you and now it’s fucking with me!”
There it was, finally. After all of that time denying it and trying to hide your feelings to save your own sanity, you finally confessed. You had so many chances to confess that yes, it really was him all along. 
When he came into your room and comforted you through your nightmare to the two of you shouting at each other in the rain, you had always loved him. 
Even though Peter knew how you felt about him, this was the first time he heard it with his own ears and it was like hearing the symphony for the first time. Like your own soundtrack that swelled during the climax of the movie that was you and Peter, Peter could listen to you say it over and over again.
He didn’t care that most of your confession involved a string of swear words because, without them, it wouldn’t have been your true self. He knew once he admitted to you that he was cured, there would be no going back.
“ The lovedust is gone Y/N. When you kissed me- or saved me by giving mouth to mouth- the lovedust flushed out of my system completely. Banner did extra tests and he confirmed that I’m okay and back to normal all because of you.”
Your heart dropped to the floor as your eyes raked up Peter, testing to see if he was lying but he didn’t falter. This is what you were afraid of, confessing everything to him only to find out that he didn’t love you anymore but who would’ve thought it would be you to make him go back to normal.
And yet, a huge part of you was relieved because finally, the lovedust was gone. You didn’t need to worry about it ever screwing with you and Peter again but as you studied his expression, your chest felt heavy.  
You had seemingly set up your own demise,” Oh, that’s good...I’m happy for you.”
You felt yourself take a step back but Peter reached his hand out to softly hold yours. You pulled your hand away but Peter swatted your stubbornness away and held your hand tighter. He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles and when he looked back up at you, he felt his heart swell.
“ And yet, even though the pain is gone, I feel more love for you now than I have ever felt in my entire life. I understand what they mean when they say love hurts but if anything, it heals even more because you made me feel whole again. When you saved me and the first thing I saw was you looking back at me, it was like I was given a second chance to love you the right way, the way you were meant to be loved.”
“You were right, the lovedust made me fall in love with you but ever since you cured me, it was only a matter of admitting to myself that deep down, I’ve always cared about you. It opened my eyes and showed me that I will never have to look further in finding the one for me because you are everything and more,” Peter said as you moved your eyes from the floor to his figure,” I love you. I mean it. No exceptions, no strings attached, no lovedust required.”
Right then and there, you were at a loss for everything you could possibly hold; no words, no breath, no thoughts. Any resentment you held had shattered into microscopic pieces that would dissolve once crushed between something as delicate as your fingertips because he said everything you wanted to hear.
“ You love me?” You said quietly to where Peter made you repeat yourself,” Are you serious? Do you really mean it?”
Peter nodded and softly let out an ‘ of course I do’ as he brushed his fingers lightly over your cheek. He cupped your face gently with one hand as his thumb wiped away a stray tear,” Can I finally kiss you?”  
Peter’s cheeks grew red as you nodded and leaned into his touch, innocently brushing your lips against his. Peter dipped his head down to close the space between the two of you and kissed you so softly, you had to pull him closer to you to actually kiss him back.
Even though Peter was the one who asked, he felt completely unprepared kissing you back. He had imagined over and over how warm your lips would be against his but now that he was actually kissing you, he didn’t think he had enough self-control to ever stop kissing you.
You never knew a kiss could be innocent and yet so intimate but as his lips moved in perfect sync, any other logistics of the feeling went away because all you could think about was Peter. You practically melted into his touch but before you could savor the kiss, Peter pulled away breathless.
“ S-Sorry, I forgot to breathe,” Peter gushed as you smiled back up at him,” what does this mean for us now?”
You traced your finger along Peter’s wrist as you thought quietly,” I don’t know but we can figure it out together.”
Peter hummed happily before dipping his head down to kiss you and when he pulled away, he fell himself falling in love with you all over again.
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moonflowcrr · 3 years
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;revels if there were one
‏‏‎ ‎ !! masterlist ‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‎ ‎ ‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎
avengers x f!reader
slight nat x f!reader
no warnings ♡
➵ just sitting with the avengers after one of Tony’s parties- and the shenanigans that go along with it.
wc ┊ 1084
‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎[ 🕊 ] ‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎
okay so i watched black widow not that long ago and i miss them :( so have this age of ultron scene rewrite that i made a while back !! please feel free to send in a request or prompts <3‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎„‏‎ ‏‏
‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎- - - ┊♡ ┊ - - -‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ 
‎the evening had been in full swing for the better part of two hours. drinks had and music sung- a full revel if there ever was one. the mission had been long- and hard, and one of their own had taken a rather nasty hit. best to forget your worries with alcohol and a good party, a memo Tony would probably preach by. boozed avengers and guests laughed until the early hours of the morning- until people began to trail off and the party started to wind down. at long last, the final dribbles of Tony’s expensive guests bid their farewells and left in their expensive cars, and the remaining members grouped together on the couch; the heat of debate sparking them up despite the longing for sleep that turned their eyes to scratchy sandpaper.
(y/n) sat curled in a heap beside Natasha, one leg tucked beneath her, while the other stretched out and sat neatly over the other woman’s lap- though the redheads attention was anywhere but on her. a conversation bounced between the redhead and the scientist, and Bruce did a poor job of disguising his overly flirty manner. Natasha beamed, her full body turned to give the male her attention- and despite being the one who encouraged the woman to pursue this attraction; (y/n) couldn’t help the tendrils of jealousy tugging obnoxiously on her heartstrings.
she grimaced, and took another swig of her beer. liquid courage to stamp out a subtle flicker.
Thor’s hearty laugh danced across the quiet group, muting the grumbles of the man across from him- who sat rather smugly, his pride intact, as he spun a drumstick around his fingers.
“ but it’s a trick! ” Clint exclaimed, failing to hide the small smirk that crossed his face when the god joined in the squabble match.
“ no, no ” the blond started, leaning to tap his beer against Steve’s shot glass. ( a strange human tradition, he thought. something of acknowledgement and praise. why bump glasses? why not just drink? ) shaking his head he continued “ it’s much more than that. ”
from his spot on the floor, the man scoffed, earning a few hushed chuckles from the woman beside him. “ ah, whosoever be he worthy shall haveth the power! ” he spoke, arms outstretched to mock the fabled hammer. “ whatever man! it’s a trick! ”
“ well please, be my guest ” Thor laughed in reply, smugness choking his words to sound as cocky as humanly, or godly, possible. minute fear danced in Barton’s eyes momentarily; and it wasn’t missed by the blond. a challenging smile taunted the man, which only left him dumbstruck into silence, Clint only stared. 
“ come on ” Tony prompted from his side of the group. Clint threw his hands up in defeat, a nasty glare sent in Tony’s direction as he called out a simple ' really? ‘. murmurs of chuckles rippled through the group, everyone’s attention now focused on the scene.
“ this should be good ” (y/n) quipped, shuffling to untangle herself from Natasha’s lap. an equally nasty glare was shot in her direction as Clint huffed past, but the girl only laughed in response.
“ Clint, you’ve had a tough week. we won’t hold it against you if you can’t get it up ” Tony spoke, another chorus of laughter bubbling from the intoxicated group. “ i will! ” (y/n) countered. “ okay she will, but the rest of us won’t. ”
rolling his eyes, the brown haired archer stepped up to the table, making some offhand comment before his attempt. with one hand wrapped around the handle of the hammer, and a strained groan escaping his lips- he slumped back in defeat; finally laughing at his failure. “ i still don’t know how you do it! ”
thus sparked a new game- who of the Avengers could lift the mighty hammer? one after the other, they waddled up to attempt, and waddled back a failure. laughter boomed at each new turn and theory- Tony had even gone as far as to rely on the aid of his iron suit ( which had only earned him a failed attempt and a snide remark from his friends. )
at some point during the fiasco, Banner had moved to make his attempt- some lame joke about the hulk later and he returned to his seat, only more defeated and the tint of rose dusting his cheeks. (y/n), during that time, had moved yet again until she was sat with her head resting on Natasha’s shoulder. the red hair tickled her forehead, and she bit back the smile that was threatening to escape.
she almost purred with satisfaction, the greedy part of her that hadn’t been as tucked away as she’d have hoped cheering in the fact Natashas attention was no longer on the man. instead a hand was rest in (y/n)’s lap- and with all the willpower the young hero could muster, she fought the urge to tangle her fingers with the pale ones of the Russian spy.
“-and, Widow? ”
the question snapped the girl from her thoughts, and she sat back up like she’d been stung, frazzled at the thought of being caught. thankfully the attention wasn’t on her- but rather the redhead beside her.
“ oh, no no. that’s not a question i need answered. ” Natasha stated, leaning back into the plushness of the sofa as she brought her beer to her lips, head bumping against the back of the chair and the girls shoulder. Nat looked up, capturing (y/n)’s amused ( and still slightly panicked ) eyes. “ how about you? ” she asked around the rim of the glass.
the (e/c) eyed girl sucked in a quiet breath before a laugh escaped her. “ ah, why not ”. stepping up and wrapping her fingers around the handle, she began to pull.
but nothing- of course.
laughter broke out as she stepped back, Tony jumping in the fire a remark at her as she went to sit back down.
“ all deference to the Man Who Wouldnt Be King, but it’s rigged. ” Stark concluded, finalising his statement with a drink as Clint walked past and bumped shoulders with him “ bet your ass ”
“ steve! ” a voice called from somewhere to the girls left. “ he said a bad language word ”
“ did you tell everyone about this? ” was the last thing (y/n) heard as her thoughts struck up again. smiles and laughs buzzed the room like a warm glow. the alcohol sitting comfortably in her belly, head resting atop Natashas shoulder once more.
yeah, she decided, i could get used to this.
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alwaysbeliev · 3 years
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Same as the Last
pairing: Arthur x Reader
summary: Mary Linton has summoned Arthur once again, and he has dropped everything to see her. You're left at Shady Belle to wonder what is going on and what it means for your relationship.
word count: 1,782
notes: you can find this on AO3 under the same username, if you wish to give it love there, too! it’s been a long time since i really got into writing, so i’m taking baby steps. it might be small, but i hope you enjoy it anyway!
Curse that Mary Linton.
Pacing, pacing, all you could do was pace. The others were getting tired of it. Mrs. Grimshaw had already given you several chores, all of which you completed at haphazard speed. The laundry was still dripping on the line, puddles forming underneath in the already soaked ground. It was gonna take a thousand years to dry. But you had other things on your mind.
“Is that from your secret lover?” you had teased Arthur earlier. A letter had arrived for him, brought from the post office by Pearson, and he had scarcely looked at it when you asked. He chuckled at your joke. But as he studied the writing and unfolded the paper, his smile fell, replaced with a strange mixing of emotions you couldn’t quite place.
“No, it’s…” His voice trailed off as his eyes scanned the words before him. 
“Arthur?” You tried peeking over his shoulder, but in a defensive move, he turned so you couldn’t see it. “Is everything okay?”
Your mind started racing as you wondered what it might be. As far as you were aware, the outlaw had no outside obligations. None of the gang did. Quickly, you started cycling through any recent or semi-recent events, wracking your brain for an answer, anything that might help solve this weird and uncomfortable puzzle. Maybe it was some kind of summons? You’d heard of the law issuing letters. But if that were the case, then the gang’s pseudonym at the post office was compromised. Was it related to unfinished business in Valentine? 
It suddenly clicked. Right as Arthur finished reading, you said, “Mary.”
“I, uh... “ At least he had the decency to look sheepish. He nodded.
Immediately, your mood had soured. And it had only gone downhill from there. The letter arrived this morning, Arthur had read it after breakfast, and offered it to you to read after he had finished. It was from Mary, alright. She was in Saint Denis, and, yet again, she was begging for Arthur’s help. You tried not to be angry, but you were. Mary was long before you and you knew that, and yet, you were still strangely jealous of her. Despite existing long before you in Arthur’s life, she was still receiving so much attention, so much of his time, so much of his… You couldn’t think of what it was exactly, but it was infuriating. 
And now, here you were. Mid-afternoon. Roaming aimlessly around Shady Belle, getting on everyone’s nerves. Pearson, who was usually one to nag those who were bored into helping prep the food, was avoiding you like the plague. You had taken to practicing your aim, your volcanic pistol in your hand, squinting at the glass bottles you had lined up on the end of the dock. It was cruel, but you imagined each one was Mary and Arthur. Bang! There goes the engagement ring. Bang! Their stupid faces kissing. Bang!
You jumped about a mile in the air as the last gunshot came from behind you. Whirling around, you found yourself face to face with Arthur, lowering his revolver. He was smiling, just a slight lift to the left side of his mouth, and he pretended to blow smoke from the barrel of his weapon, spinning it poorly around his finger before replacing it in his holster. He approached you with his thumbs hooked in his belt to admire his work. 
“Always were a strong shot,” he commented, nodding his head towards the bottles. 
“You’ve been doing this a long time,” you grumbled. Arthur chuckled.
“Not me, I was talkin’ about you.”
You could only half shrug. You didn’t want to look him in the eyes, though you knew he was searching for yours. He sighed deeply and shuffled his feet.
“Look, can we- Can we talk? I don’t want this to be turned into a, a big thing.”
Reluctantly, you lifted your eyes and met his. The look on his face was begging you to have pity on him, exposing a strange vulnerability you had been seeing more from him lately. It tugged at your heartstrings and you finally caved. You tossed your head back, staring at the sky for a second as you exhaled sharply, drawing strength from the clouds above you. 
“Fine.” 
With a flourish, you extended your arm in a sweeping, “Right this way” motion, indicating he lead the way to a quiet spot. He stared at you a moment before stepping past you, walking towards the house. You trailed behind him, your mind returning to its tumultuous state it had been in most of the day. He had been gone so long, the sun was starting to go down, painting the campsite in orange hues. What could he have been doing all day? Mary hadn’t said what was going on in her letter, just hinted at it. You had spent an hour looking over it and scouring it for information. Man, your stomach hurt from the anxiety.
The two of you ended up in your shared room on the upper floor of the former plantation home. Arthur had held the door open for you, and you found yourself unable to sit down. Behind you, Arthur tried to encourage you to sit, but you could only shake your head. He edged past you to take a seat instead.
For a long while, you just stared at each other. Arthur removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. You couldn’t bring your mind to form any words for him. All the anger you had had that morning started to drain out of you at the sight of him. There was a sad air around him, something had happened, but you weren’t sure you wanted to hear what. He finally broke the gaze you had each other trapped in and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“How’s Mary?” Your voice finally broke the silence. You cut him off preemptively, scared of what he may have been about to say.
“She’s just fine,” he answered, apparently relieved to hear you speak. “So’s her father, the bastard.”
“It was about her father?”
“Yeah, no good asshole spending money he don’t even have.” The venom in Arthur’s voice made your skin crawl. It was easy to forget, in more tender moments, that he was an outlaw. The fire in his eyes lasted less than a second, however, rapidly replaced by the strange sadness from before. “He, uh… He tried to sell her mother’s brooch. For his.. Hell, I don’ even know, whatever he keeps spending money on. Same shit it’s always been.”
You were frozen, watching him carefully. He didn’t look up. Thinking there was more, you allowed the silence to continue, but the air was still heavy and you needed the weight off your chest.
“Was that all?” you finally asked. Your voice came out soft and fragile. You had your answer when Arthur turned his head upwards, the slightest guilty smile tugging on the corner of his mouth, and the churning feeling returned to your stomach. “Well, did you-- Did you kiss her?”
Arthur let out a bark of laughter. Suddenly, you felt very silly for even asking. 
“Darlin’, no,” he said. With a whoosh of air, your shoulders relaxed, and you even felt a smile approaching your own face. “I didn’t kiss her. But I’d be lyin’ if I said it hadn’t crossed my mind.” The tightness returned as quickly as it had left. Anger bubbled upwards, rushing hot to your head, and you opened your mouth to accuse him, but the look in his eyes registered: it was pain. Pain?
“Arthur,” you whispered, “what happened? Please tell me.” 
Making eye contact once again, the cowboy shifted on the bed and gestured for you to sit beside him, this time closer to a command than suggestion. Hesitantly, you joined him. Your hands were placed gingerly in your lap. He returned to his previous position, elbows on his knees, and he barely looked to you as he recounted everything that happened. He started with Mary shouting to him from the balcony, to their almost argument about the what-ifs of their past, through pursuing her father and chasing down the brooch. They had gone to the theater together. A date? And, finally…
“Mary… Mary asked me to run away with her.” 
The range of emotions running through your head was making you dizzy. Too much to process, too much to consider, so much anger at her, anxiety towards Arthur’s thoughts. You stared hard at your fingers, picking absentmindedly at a loose thread on your clothes. You wondered at what the conversation was like, what Arthur had said, what his expression had betrayed. Did Mary mean it? Was she truly still thinking about him all these years later? Would she ever stop trying to take him away?
“Say somethin’.” His gaze turned to you, the worry clear in his voice. His piercing blue eyes were burning into the side of your head. Without enough time to compose a kinder phrasing, you spluttered out the first thought you had.
“So why didn’t you?”
“Why--?” Arthur chuckled, a low rumble deep in his chest. Relief, you realized, was the cause for his sudden change of tone. “Mary has played me for a fool more times than I can count. We was just kids, then. We’re… Well, we’re grown now, things have changed. Besides, I love you too much to disappear like that.”
Every other thought left your mind. I love you. I love you. I love you… He had never said those words to you. They were spoken every day through action, sure, but out loud… They were almost taboo. Tears filled your eyes as you looked up into his face. His eyes widened in alarm.
“You love me?” you managed to say, your voice strained by the tightening of your throat.
“I have, for a while,” he said. “I-I’m sorry, I jus’ didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but it’s the truth. I do love you, darlin’. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Relief in the purest form of ecstasy washed over you. You threw your arms around Arthur’s neck, pulling him in for a tight hug. He stiffened for a moment before returning the embrace. His warmth filled you up and washed out every bad feeling and thought you had that day. 
“I love you, too,” you said softly, burying your face in his neck. He still carried the smells of Saint Denis with him, but you didn’t care. He didn’t smell like Mary Linton, and he never would. He was yours.
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