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#and that's an interesting idea even if my own take would have had him dying as atonement
wife-of-all-dilfs · 6 months
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bad idea, right? | f. odair
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summary: after receiving a late-night call from your ex-boyfriend, finnick odair, you can’t help but agree to meet with him. what happens when you mix a sound-proof train car and an ex you haven’t seen in months?
pairing: finnick odair x reader
warnings: rough-ish smut, a teensy bit of angry sex, swearing, unprotected sex (zon’t zo that), kinda ooc finnick, choking,
notes: based on 'bad idea, right?' by olivia rodrigo. i lost the person who sent the request so sorry this took so long to come out!! i don’t know if i like how this is written, but smut is smut so… enjoy :)
word count: 4.6k
Neon beams of light pulsed in time with the heavy bass blasting throughout your unnecessarily large home in the Victor’s Village. District Two. Masonry. Big houses.
Two shots of tequila and some other very unnatural concoctions were soaking deep into your brain. Everything was swaying—the room, the people, even you. Your small group of friends danced by your side, keeping together to avoid the creeps that might have entered your home. Although, to you, entertaining a stranger that night did not sound like such a terrible idea.
You felt lonely. Undeniably and pathetically lonely. The alcohol only enhanced your emotions and libido, leading you to search the room for anyone who interested you enough to take them upstairs. But there was no one, because in reality there was only one person you really wanted, and he was no longer yours. He hadn’t been for months.
Replacements had come and gone, but they never stuck. None of them made you feel the way he did.
“Excuse me!” an exasperated voice yelled. “Would you please get out of my way?!”
To your right, your housekeeper, bless her poor deafened soul, was pushing through a crowd of intoxicated partygoers and heading straight for you.
“Claudia!” you shouted over the music, tugging down your short black slip dress out of respect for her modesty.
The elderly woman stopped in front of you, her disapproval of the vibrant scene clear as day. You always paid her double in exchange for putting up with the chaos whenever you threw a house party, which was almost every weekend.
She hovered close to your ear. “There is someone on the phone for you!”
“Did you get a name?!”
After she shook her head, you escorted her through the thick crowd of dancers, into a quieter room and thanked her before beelining for the landline.
With a heavy sigh, you brought the corded phone to your ear and said, “Whoever this is, you better make it quick. I’m not nearly as intoxicated as I need to be and in dire need of another shot.”
Over the scratchy static, you could hear a quiet chuckle—a sound you had spent months trying to forget, along with the person attached to it. How many drinks did you have again? The alcohol must have messed with your mind because this could not be real.
“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” the caller said, his voice low and amused.
Everything you had longed to forget came rushing to the surface at an overwhelming pace. Wisps of hair the colour of a dying fire. Eyes resembling the sea. Arms that once acted as a life jacket. A dangerous mouth that had explored every inch of your body.
No. It couldn’t be—
“Finnick.”
********
Stupid. This was so fucking stupid. You were attempting to sneak out of your own party. A good old Irish Goodbye in your own house. With luck, you would make it out the front door without being caught by your friends, or worse, Claudia. Now that would be scary.
Water flushed through your system, a weak attempt you made at sobering yourself up because meeting up with your ex while drunk was a recipe for disaster. Then again, so was meeting up with your ex in the first place. Nothing will happen, you thought to yourself, we are just going to talk.
A thought even more unbelievable than thinking you would be able to be able to escape the watchful eyes of your friends.
Your high-heeled foot had just crossed the front door when someone called your name. “Damn,” you muttered, turning back around.
Valeria, your closest yet heavily intoxicated friend strutted over to you, her feet wobbling every few steps. “You sneaky little minx,” she slurred. “Someone said they saw you on the phone. It was him, wasn’t it? He asked you to go see him.”
“Just as friends. No, not even. As acquaintances.”
“Oh, my sweet, sweet silly friend.” She grabbed you by the shoulders. “We both know you aren’t that foolish.”
You looked away because you knew damn well that she was right.
“Look, I get it,” she continued. “Your hot, he’s hot.” You smiled. “You both have a history. I just want to make sure you know all the outcomes of what you're about to do. I’ll be here for you if things do get messy but expect a well-versed speech of me saying ‘I told you so’ afterwards.”
“I’ll hold you to that, Val,” you laughed, prying her hands off your shoulders. “I really do appreciate your concern, but I promise all we’re going to do is talk.”
“Alright, but if things go south, call me. Immediately!” she called a little too loudly as you took subtle steps away from the front door and onto the street. “Have fun with your innocent little ‘talk’!”
“Thanks, mum!”
You waved goodbye as you walked down the street, body buzzing with exhilaration and apprehension. Finnick had told you his train stopped in the district’s station for the night. He and his new victor were travelling throughout Panem for the Victory Tour and were currently in District Two. You didn’t know much about his tribute, only that they were a she. The thought of Finnick spending all his time with another girl had that green-eyed monster inside you writhing.
Enough to make you agree to meet with him after midnight while moderately drunk and slightly horny. What a fantastic plan.
District Two’s train station was a short distance from the Victor’s Village, but it was long enough to cause you to remove your heels. You finally reached the train, barefoot and with the wind softly blowing your hair. Finnick had specified a particular door to knock on so as not to alert the peacekeepers residing within the train. So, you knocked. And then you waited.
Your heart was pounding; your hands were trembling. Not long after, a dark figure appeared behind the door’s tinted window. With a click, the door opened and revealed a shirtless smirking Finnick Odair.
Oh, fuck me.
He was even more gorgeous than the last time you saw him. His crossed arms bulged with thick muscles as he leaned against the doorframe, gaze shamelessly roaming over your scarcely dressed appearance before settling on your face. The amusement in his expression was ever-present and ever-growing.
“Finnick,” you greeted.
“Y/N.”
He extended his hand, inviting you inside the train and hesitantly, you accepted. Sparks of electricity travelled up your arm, starting from where his and your hand connected. Some things never changed.
Empty silence welcomed your presence as you entered the train car. Patterned silver vases of white roses were placed atop every available surface. Meticulously crafted chandeliers lit up the room with a golden haze. To your left was an arrangement of black leather couches surrounding a small silver table; further down the car was a rectangular mahogany dining table decorated with fruit and unlit candles.
Somehow a single train car was more luxurious than your entire house.
“Is every one asleep?” you asked, running your fingertips along the pure gold that lined the couches.
“Yeah,” he said, eyes following your movements. “Every room on this train is sound-proof, so...”
You nodded, unsure of how else to reply. Conversations usually ran smoothly between you and Finnick. They were effortless. But that was when you were together. Four months must have passed now since you last spoke.
“Are you and what’s-his-name still together?” he asked.
“No,” you said bluntly. “I broke up with him last month.”
“My sincerest condolences.” His sympathetic tone was as transparent as glass. Sarcasm always was his favourite pastime. “Guess he just couldn’t satisfy your needs.”
Turning around to face him, you leaned against the couch’s arm, jaw clenched and eyes glowering with agitation. “Is there any specific reason why you called me here?”
He raised a glass of rich amber liquid to his lips. “Can’t two old friends just reconnect?”
“Old friends,” you scoffed. “That’s what you call it. From what I remember, the last time we saw each other, we were having goodbye sex in your bed. And in the kitchen and the lounge and on the balcony.”
Something sincere overshadowed his teasing nature, revealing itself in the tension in his facial muscles and the glassy haze that clouded his eyes. Reminiscence. “It didn’t have to be goodbye,” he spoke softly whilst holding your gaze.
You blinked. There was a short pause and only the quiet hum of the lights sounded in the room. You were the one to end the relationship, not the other way around much to your friends’ disbelief. Over and over, you had been asked the same question: why on earth would you break up with Finnick Odair?
Well, behind closed doors, he was incredible. He was loving, affectionate, and thoughtful. He would collect seashells for you that he found on the beach whenever he went fishing, leave hand-written poetry and heartfelt love letters whenever he left for the Capitol, and mother of fucking Christ was the sex just downright extraordinary.
But as previously stated, it was all behind closed doors.
Finnick never wanted to be seen together in public and on the off chance you were, he would practically neglect your existence. Only your most trusted friends and Finnick’s family knew about your relationship. No one else. Eventually, the secretiveness created a deep void inside you that not even the sweetest love letters and seashells could fill. You couldn’t remain with someone who seemed ashamed to be with you in public.
So, with a heavy heart, you said goodbye.
In fear of becoming too emotional, you disregarded his weighted words and crossed your arms. “So,” you began, “how’s the Tour been so far? You must be pretty ecstatic one of your tributes actually won.”
He bounced back fairly quickly. “I suppose it’s always nice to watch someone you trained live for a change,” he said, placing his drink on a nearby table. “Plus, she’s got a lot of charisma. A natural with the speeches and interviews, so I don’t need to do too much coaching.”
And there it was again—that green-eyed monster. “Charisma, huh?” You just couldn’t help yourself. “Is she pretty too?”
Finnick tilted his head, visibly surprised by your blatant jealousy. “She just turned sixteen,” he stated with a small smirk tugging at his lips. Well, no one told you that bit of information. Awkward. “Careful, Y/N. You sounded a little jealous there.”
You pushed off the chair, heading back toward the door you entered through. Maybe this was a bad idea. “Alright, I’m leaving now.”
Just as you turned the handle, a set of rushed footsteps thudded behind you. The door opened a mere crack, sending in a cold draft that caused your body to shudder.
“Wait, just—” A swift hand came over your shoulder and pushed the door shut, eliciting a startled gasp from your lips. You could feel Finnick towering over you, the warmth of his skin spreading onto your cold back and his breaths fanning down against the bareness of your shoulder. He was so close. “I just needed to see you before I leave tomorrow morning.”
Slowly, you turned around, coming face-to-face with the man you shouldn’t have loved. His burning gaze was a stark contrast to the icy metal door your back was pressed against. Tension pulsated in the small space between you and him. The intense attraction that had first brought you two together came rushing forth; trying to fight such a magnetic force was impossible. You needed connection—touch.
This night would not end with just a simple innocent chat, you knew that now.
You swallowed hard, your heart racing. “You needed to��see me?” you asked. “Finnick, if you want me to stay, don’t beat around the bush. Tell me what you really want.”
Silence. He continued staring at you and you could see a scheme forming behind his mesmerising green eyes. Then the scheme was unfolding. He leaned down to your level, to your lips, his half-lidded eyes never leaving your mouth as he just barely allowed his lips to brush yours. On instinct, you tilted your head upwards.
“I want you,” he whispered.
You didn’t waste a second to respond. “Then take me.”
He was quicker than a bullet train. Finnick’s lips caught your own and were burning with fiery desire, evident in his haste to wrap you up in his arms and practically merge your body with his. Flames licked just beneath your skin, setting your nerves alight with passion and lust. You burned together in an inferno fuelled by each other’s touch.
Logically, this was wrong. Finnick was your ex-boyfriend and for good reason. But as your hands clung to every inch of him that they possibly could, as his tongue and yours danced fluidly with one another, and as your body buzzed with pure adrenaline, you were willing to abandon all your morals in exchange for five more minutes in his embrace.
A moan travelled from your mouth to his own as you felt him bite your lower lip. You could already feel that familiar throbbing sensation between your thighs and the wetness that exposed how much you craved him. You knew he felt the same. His sweatpants left little to the imagination.
Your hand slipped between your connected bodies, travelling down Finnick’s firm stomach, gliding over his small trail of hair and finally into his pants. Your fingers curled around his cock which already leaked with precum. He was just as desperate as you.
“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound sending tingles down your spine.
You left his lips to press a wet kiss to his neck. “I wonder how many times you pretended your hand was my own,” you purred, leaving another kiss on his clavicle. “How many times you tried to recreate the warmth you only feel when you're inside me.”
His mouth hung open, letting out quiet uneven breaths as you stroked his length, your pace so quick that he already felt an overwhelming urge to release into your soft unrelenting hand. The sound of your voice, so sexy and lustful, combined with your swift pressured movements had his stomach tensing and contracting with a devastating build-up of pleasure.
“Too many times,” he admitted in a strained voice.
You sucked on the warm pulsing skin of his neck, this time receiving a groan that buzzed on your lips. His hands grabbed at your hips for support, roughly kneading the softness and satin in his large palms.
“This dress—fuck!” his voice broke as another hand slipped into his pants, cupping his balls as the other twisted with each stroke of his cock. “Sweetheart,” he chuckled breathlessly. “You look like a fucking siren.”
Your soft lips pecked at his toned chest before pulling away and looking up at him through your lashes. Euphoric delirium was prominent in his eyes. “You should’ve seen everyone staring at my party,” you said. “I wish you saw how badly the men wanted to fuck me right there on the dancefloor; how they undressed me with their eyes. Maybe then you would understand the mistake you made by never showing me off.”
Aggravation blazed in his aroused eyes which only made you so much hornier. Before you could pump another stroke, Finnick had ripped your hands from his pants and spun you around, pinning your body against the wall with his own, his hard cock pushing against the plush of your ass.
“I do understand,” he growled into your ear.
He abruptly started sucking hard kisses onto the side of your neck which had you gasping for air and tilting your head to allow him further access. One of his hands cupped your breast, massaging it with rough fingers and pinching your peaked nipples between his fingertips. His other hand travelled around your hip, wandering beneath your revealing dress and slipping into your lace panties.
You cried out when two fingers plunged into your soaking hole without warning.
“Know what I wish?” he asked, fingers curling in and out of you at such a rapid pace that the wet noises could be heard throughout the entire room. Blissful tears threatened to spill down your face. “I wish those guys could see how you looked right now with my fingers fucking you.” The hand on your breast moved to your throat, applying enough pressure on your carotid to make your head pound with dizziness. “I wish they knew you only enjoy being fucked by me.”
Your walls squeezed around his fingers, pulling him even further inside. Your untouched breasts were squashed against the train door and the fabric of your dress rubbed against your sensitive nipples. Finnick’s cock twitched against you and his hand was constricting the blood flow to your head. Yeah. Nobody else could make you feel better than this.
Finnick plunged his fingers inside again with a hard thrust which forced a broken moan from your lips. “Isn’t that right?”
The heel of his palm dug into your clit and your entire body was overcome with pins and needles; your knees buckled and hit the metal door. That would definitely bruise. You hoped it would—you wanted a reminder of this night.
“Yes!” you gasped. “Finnick, only you. Only you.”
“That’s right.”
Your moans started to rise in pitch, signalling the orgasm which was rapidly closing in. But right before you could come, Finnick’s fingers slipped out of you and out of your now-drenched panties. Your orgasm began to fade due to the lack of friction until it disappeared completely, leaving you feeling frustrated and neglected.
Turning back around with a flushed face, you witnessed Finnick sucking your juices off his fingers with a pop. His grin was conniving, self-satisfied with his actions which proved how desperately you wanted him to fuck you. That smug bastard. You would give anything to wipe the amusement off his beautiful fucking face.
And, well, you did.
“Fuck you!” you exclaimed, shoving him backwards.
“Fuck me?” He raised an eyebrow, smirk twitching at his lips. “I already know you want to.”
With a frustrated cry, you shoved him again, but this time he caught you in his arms and fervidly crushed his lips to yours. You squirmed and writhed and resisted but eventually melted into his embrace when you remembered you wanted this. You wanted this so badly.
Your arms wrapped around his neck as both your bodies continuously curved into one another, neither of you being able to remain still for more than a few seconds. The taste of brandy and you were on Finnick’s tongue as it swirled around your mouth; the flavours, which were polar opposites, sweet and savoury, mixed together to create something utterly carnal.
With the knowledge that this was probably a one-time thing, your kisses became bruising and frantic. Finnick alternated between kissing your lips, your neck, your jaw, and any place he could possibly reach. You hung onto every sound he made, every hot breath he took.
The two of you stumbled around the train car, lips never leaving one another, hands grabbing at every inch of flesh they could reach. You bumped into walls and multiple glass ornaments and laughed together when Finnick just barely caught one before it shattered on the floor.
Eventually, you ended up down the opposite end of the train car. Your back hit something hard and you gasped in surprise. The dining table. Finnick gave a quick glance at the table before pressing another kiss to your lips, this time a little more tenderly.
“Turn around,” he said, and you did.
You immediately felt him press himself against your behind. You stared ahead, chest heaving and swollen lips tingling, waiting for any more commands. His hand walked around your thigh, over the mound of your pussy, and then grazed up your stomach. He left a trail of warm tingles between your breasts before continuing upward to move your hair from your shoulder where he placed another warm gentle kiss.
Finally, he splayed his hand flat between your shoulder blades and pushed, bending you over the table until your torso lay flat on the cold wooden surface. Finnick hiked your dress up to your hips and crouched down, caressing your outer thighs before sliding your panties down to your ankles.
The air hit your bare skin and you exhaled a shaky breath as you anticipated his next movements. As he rose to his feet, he trailed kisses up your leg, ending with a soft bite to your ass which earned him a small giggle.
You could hear him tug down his sweatpants which hit the floor with a muffled thud. Your breaths continued to shake with nerves, coming out in soft pants. Finnick held onto your hip with one hand and held himself in the other. No words were spoken. Both of you wanted this—needed this.
Next thing you knew, your panting breaths had stopped altogether. Finnick’s cock had slid between your folds, filling you up in one single movement, and you both released a relieved moan in sync. Your hands pressed against the tabletop as your body began to rock with his thrusts. You weren’t going to make love or whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears. No. This was pure unadulterated fucking.
Finnick started off fast; neither of you had the patience for a slow build-up. You didn’t even bother caring about the fact that he wasn’t wearing a condom. His hand had lowered to your mid back and the other gripped your hip as your warmth swallowed him over and over.
“Oh god,” you gasped.
The sensations that overtook your body were eagerly welcomed. You had tried to replicate the sex Finnick gave with other men after your relationship ended, but none seemed to compare even the slightest. You weren’t sure how a single human being could provide the sensations of nirvana, how one could master the skills of bringing another person to such an incredible high, but Finnick could. He always could.
It was only at this point that you realised how badly your body had been in withdrawal from his touch. The feeling of him inside you was like a drug. Addicting. Definitely not healthy.
You had tried fingering yourself to replicate his cock, but it was a pathetic attempt. Finnick could hit a deep spot inside you that no one else could like it was some secret forbidden location that only he held the key to. He made your body feel full. Stuffed. Complete. In a way that made you feel like you were going to burst into an explosion of white heavenly light.
Your nails scratched at the wood as he continued to pound into you, cock gliding against the ripples of your inner walls. There wasn’t a single inch of space left inside you. He fit like your pussy was where he belonged.
“Always feel so fucking good,” he muttered between thrusts.
His pleasure was always vocal, voiced with heavy breaths, grunts, and groans. Sometimes he even whimpered, especially when you edged him. He didn’t mind you being more dominant at times, but right now was not one of those moments. Being bent over and fucked into a table was not in any way, shape, or form you being dominant. This was Finnick being in control and it felt incredible.
“Finnick,” you said. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop!”
In response he grabbed your other hip and pulled you back into him, burying himself even deeper inside you with each thrust which had you crying out his name again. He hunched over your body, hips still pounding behind you, and sucked harsh kisses on your shoulder. He left behind red and deep purple marks on your shoulder, moving to your neck, and then grazed your earlobe with his teeth.
He returned a hand to your throat, forcing the both of you into a standing position. His fingers squeezed, reducing the blood flow into your brain which enhanced the explosion building up inside you.
“Harder!” you cried.
Both his cock and his hand increased their vigour. Stars were sparkling in your vision. You were almost completely sober now, yet you felt entirely drunk. Drunk on Finnick. He reached his free hand between your legs and your body fell back into his, only remaining upright from his support.
His fingers rubbed side-to-side on your clit, so hard and fast that his hand almost blurred in motion. Your moans rose an octave as your stomach began to tighten. A fire burned within your muscles, so pleasurably excruciating that you thought they would liquefy inside you. Your pussy clenched around Finnick’s cock, walls fluttering with each of his pounding thrusts.
“Come, sweetheart,” he purred into your ear. You could hear how much he struggled to contain his moans as he talked. “Come on, I know you're close. I can feel you.”
You nodded mindlessly and curled your arm backwards around his neck, in need of something to cling to. As the feeling inside your stomach intensified, your eyes squeezed shut and your hold around his neck tightened until you were almost choking him. With every ounce of strength that he had inside him, Finnick increased his pace until he fit multiple mind-destroying thrusts into each second that passed.
He was almost animalistic with his pounding and unrestrained groans of pleasure. And you were so close, so, so close to falling over the edge. His hand was constricted around your throat; the other assaulted your clit, and his cock was mercilessly hitting that swollen spot inside you. Any second and—
“I’m go—I’m gonna come!”
A potent cocktail of pleasure, ecstasy, and release washed through your body, unravelling the tension inside your stomach and exiting through your stuffed hole. Your juices coated Finnick’s cock with warmth as you repeated his name over and over.
You could feel him twitching inside you, spilling himself onto your clenching walls whilst bending you over to senselessly fuck you into the table. His moans were so loud, so fucking attractive, but may God have mercy on both of you if the room wasn’t actually soundproof.
Neither of you could stop. You came an immeasurable number of times; your hands left marks on Finnick’s body as he did on yours, and every surface in the room had been tainted with your sin. You clung onto one another, desperately prolonging your night together that would most likely be the last. Ever.
*********
“Don’t leave again.”
Your fingers stilled as you strapped on your high heels. You glanced up at Finnick—who now had his sweatpants back on—from the gold-lined leather chair you sat in.
“Finnick…” you sighed.
“Please,” he said. Crouching down in front of you, he gently took your hand into his own. His face, which previously reflected nothing but pleasure, now looked at you with pained desperation. “I’ll explain everything to you. Why I was always in the Capitol. Why it was too dangerous for us to be seen together in public. All of it.”
The mention of danger took you aback. You had thought he never wanted to be seen together because he was embarrassed, not because it was… dangerous. Brows furrowed together, your eyes flickered between his, searching for any hint of deception, anything that might reveal malicious intentions. But when had Finnick ever been malicious towards you? Never. All you found in his eyes was sincerity.
“I can’t lose you again,” he whispered, lowering his head.
After a few seconds of contemplation, you realised there wasn’t a chance in hell you were going to walk out on him again. Life would mean nothing without Finnick beside you.
Your fingers sat under his chin, lifting his head to meet your gaze. The two of you exchanged a look of vulnerability, signifying an era of newfound understanding and reconnection.
You whispered in response. “You’ve got me, Finn.” 
tags: @tayrae515
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decibly · 11 months
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Barry was hungry. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem, as he could just grab some snacks from the kitchen, but he was watching a movie, and he was comfy. He really, really didn’t want to try and wriggle back to where he was now
“Phantom?” he called out hopefully.
A white glove emerged from the wall behind him, dropping an unopened bag of chips on top of his head. When Barry reached up to grab it, he saw that it was salt and vinegar, which explained why it was still uneaten. Phantom seemed to refuse those chips under all circumstances.
Barry didn’t really get it, because salt and vinegar was awesome, but that didn’t really matter. The point was, Phantom was a great person, even if he probably wasn’t human, and it didn’t matter if Barry hadn’t ever actually seen more of him than his arm, and he had told Barry his name by leaving a piece of paper on a table when he turned his back for three seconds after asking if there was a name for the ‘friend in the walls’, as Wally had called him.
“Thanks, Phantom!” The hand stuck itself out the wall again, forming a thumbs up.
***** ***** *****
Diana had found a bit of a problem. It wasn’t a big one, and was honestly more of an annoyance than anything, but her paper copy of Earth’s current standing with all known alien civilization was missing. She could get access to it again in a few hours, once the security upgrade to their computers was finished, but she had been intending to review it for a few weeks now and could use the extra time. 
An idea came to her suddenly, and Diana quietly asked, “Phantom? Are you here?” In answer, a chilly breeze blew through her hair. He was, then. “By any chance, would you happen to have seen my copy of th-” Interrupting her, the very papers she was looking for appeared out of nowhere on her desk. A green sticky note was stuck to it, reading ‘This? Sorry for taking it, but it was really interesting’
Diana smiled, hopefully in the ghosts direction. “Yes, that. If you want, I could see if I could get you your own copy?” Another green sticky note appeared on top of the first, this one just oozing the feeling of happiness. ‘YES PLEASE!!!’
***** ***** *****
Bruce… didn’t really know what to do about the teenager floating just outside the Watchtower. He looked like Phantom, from the few times anyone had actually seen the ghost, and he appeared to be enjoying himself in the vacuum outside instead of dying painfully, which was another point of evidence for that theory. Unsure of what else he could do, he knocked on the window on the off chance that he could get Phantom’s attention that way.
The ghost immediately vanished from view, and a strong, freezing cold breze blew in from the direction of the window Phantom had been outside. Bruce shivered violently from the unexpected chill.
Next time he would leave Phantom alone. Being out in space seemed to make him happy, and it was best not ruin that.
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spacedace · 1 year
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@proshipper-on-ship​ thank you for the Dick & Dan idea you added to my other post, please enjoy some of the fall out your comment resulted in haha
“So,” Bruce tried, looking hesitantly pleased at the surprisingly light atmosphere around the table. “Anything new and exciting going on with anyone?”
There was a smattering of answers from around the table. Jason didn’t offer anything - which wasn’t surprising, that he was even there and largely not starting a fight was more than enough as far as Dick was concerned - but with some ribbing from Steph, Tim eventually admitted to finally asking that boy he’d been interested in out. Dick joined in on teasing his little brother - and even Jay gave, for him, some gentle ribbing over finally getting the balls to do something, eh Timberland? - while very carefully avoiding mentioning his own sorta-kinda thing with Dan in Bludhaven. He’d deal with his siblings making him miserable and embarrassed over it all when he actually scored a date with him thanks very much.
Things were going good.
And then Damian cleared his throat, looking imperious and uninterested at the same time as he waited for everyone to turn to look at him.
“I have an announcement on an alteration to my personal life.” He declared, chin up and looking like he was already over this whole family-bonding-time thing, which was fair. Damian had gotten better over the years, but he was still not exactly the cute and cuddly little brother. Dick still had the scar from the last time he tried to hug Dami without warning a year ago and got stabbed for the effort. Still, he was sharing, willingly even! That’s progress!
At the head of the table Bruce tilted his head, looking as cautiously hopeful as Dick felt over the youngest Wayne actually offering to share something personal. “Have you decided on what college you want to go to then?”
“No.” Dami dismissed easily, without more than a glance in Bruce’s direction. “Night and I have decided to take some time to travel before continuing any further schooling.”
Huh, honestly, Dick was kinda surprised. With how much of a perfectionist Dami was, he’d thought he’d throw himself into college with the same ferocious, competitive drive he did everything else. But then again, if Elle Nightingale was going to be taking a gap year or two, it wasn’t as if it was that much of a surprise that Dami would go and join her.
The two gremlins had been practically inseparable since they were twelve and discovered a shared love of stabbing people and adopting every animal they see. If Dami’s best friend was going to go gallivanting across the world like she always dreamed of doing, Dick couldn’t actually be that  surprised that Dami would be going with her.
Dick took a sip of his drink as Dami opened his mouth to continue with what was probably going to be to most people the world’s most harrowing game of “how many incredibly dangerous animals can we see before we end up dead on our gap year” that the two demons were undoubtedly planning.
He regretted taking that sip almost immediately as Damian said, “Night and I took our marital vows yesterday. She sends her regrets that she was unable to join us for family dinner tonight.”
Predictably, the room broke out into utter chaos.
Dick choked on his drink, spraying across the table and splattering Babs with a shower of wine. She didn’t even seem to notice, dropping her own glass as she snapped her head over to stare at Damian, the sound of breaking glass and a deep red stain pooling across the table following as she did. At the end of the table, Jay made a noise like a dying goose as the samosa he’d just popped in his mouth threatened to kill him. Cass, perhaps the most outwardly calm at the proclamation, only stared with wide eyes at her younger brother as she hit Jason on the back in an attempt to make sure he didn’t die.
Dick could practically hear the old shrieking AOL dial up noise that was Tim’s brain attempting to process what his little brother had just said, while sitting next to him Steph gave a small shriek of you what? Duke’s head was on a swivel, eyes darting from Damian, to another family member, to Damian and back again as if unsure who to even look at in the moment.
Bruce just…stared, frozen in place, face caught in the most open look of shock Dick thinks the man has ever shown in his life.
Damian sniffed and cast a caustic look towards - of all people - Jason, “Unlike some people, I share my good news with the family in a timely manner.”
Jay sputtered, “You know what, fuck you! Fine, you want me to share the news?” Jay snapped his head towards the rest of them. “Jazz is pregnant, baby is due next month on the sixth. Baby shower’s next weekend at Robinson Park, show up or don’t, I really don’t give a fuck.”
Or maybe he was just going to try to kill them with a heart attack.
“What the fuck?!”
“Language!”
“Who the fuck is Jazz?!”
“Language!”
“Night’s elder sister and guardian, Drake, keep up. You should know this, you’re dating her brother.”
“I’m what?”
“And Grayson is having flirtations with her other brother.”
“Dan is Elle’s older brother? Wait - how do you know about that?”
“Todd and I are in the Nightingale family group chat. We have endured far too much waxing poet about your posterior over the past months.”
“Why do they all have variations of the same name? Who gives all their children the same name?”
“He likes my ass?”
“Oh my god, bigger picture Dick, focus.”
“Seriously, do they all have the same name outside of the older sister? I feel like we need to acknowledge they all have the same name.”
“Can we go back to the fact that Damian got married? To Elle? Yesterday? How did you even do that without anyone knowing?
“Dr. Nightingale is a notary.”
“…Dr. Nightingale as in the woman Bruce is investigating Dr. Nightingale?”
“Okay but the name thing? Please tell me you’re not naming the baby some variation of the name Daniel.”
“If the gremlins get their way it will be. Do you know how many lists we’ve made that they keep sabotaging?”
“So you have Dan’s number? Could you give it to me?”
“Jesus Christ, Dick I’m begging you.”
“Why did you guys even get married?”
“For the diplomatic immunity.”
“You don’t have diplomatic immunity.”
“I do now.”
“What does that mean?”
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luviwon · 3 months
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BEGGING ON HER KNEES TO BE POPULAR 이희승
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warning: public nudity and head, careless fuck boy heeseung, y/n in embarrassment situations, degradation
"Can you not keep your promise anymore, pretty girl?"
The tall, brunette guy wouldn't let you leave anymore. As much as you tried to get away from his arms, he was holding you way too tight. His worked out arms around your waist were making you feel small and powerless. He was strong, and he was taking advantage out of that.
"I thought we established something" he whispered into your ear, barely able to hear him through the loud music in the house.
You sighed to yourself, turning around in his arms and not breaking for even a second the eye contact between the two of you. As drunk as he must have been, he was still so beautiful. Not to your surprise, but it's been a while now since you had a thing for this guy. Even though he had no idea, but isn't that better?
You were not his type anyway.
"Alright, but not here. I don't want to have my breasts touched in the middle of a party"
The guy agreed with a smile on his face, more like a devil one. He let you guide him outside, to the garage you were hoping. From all the parties you've been to before, you didn't remember once there being people in the garage. So it was the perfect place to show your zesty chest to Heeseung.
"Here now" you whispered to yourself, starting to feel self-conscious. Was this right?
The brunette got closer, measuring your waist in his hands. His palms travelled their way up, making sure to pull up your shirt at the same time with them and have your perfect, round tits pop out in his face, yet still while wearing your black bra. It was actually one of your favourites, and that cause it was the most comfortable one you were owning. The design was hot too. It was kind of a see-throught piece, with floral texture, showing bits of your skin every here and there. However, they really did not miss revealing what's most important.
Your hardened nipples, unaware if because of the cold or because of his presence, were making a scene themselves. Heeseung didn't hesitate to use his pointing fingers to rub them through the piece of material, pressing hard against your chest. They were so pretty to him. He barely pulled down your bra a little bit, just to have them show on top of it.
Heeseung licked two of his fingers and started twisting one of your nipples, making you try not to start moaning. That was one of the sensitive spots, you could say. Crossing your legs, you did not oppose what he was doing. It was once in a lifetime experience. The boy kept playing with your nipples, not getting bored of them for even a second. It was like heaven for him.
He moved behind your back, holding your tits in his hands while pushing his lower body against yours. He was just dying to make you aware of what he was feeling like.
"Your pretty tits made me think of other things I want to do with you, princess"
Heeseung pressed his lips against your neck, sucking on the clear skin and leaving nasty marks all around. He walked the two of you outside, you feeling a shiver around your naked chest. You were wondering why you were now in the middle of the yard, but you doubted he'd even tell you. He didn't care enough to reassure you of anything.
"I want to push your pretty breast against my car window. I want to flex with that so much, baby"
Heeseung left another mark, but this time on the other side of your neck. He wanted to show you off? For a second, you felt like you could actually be his type and he'd actually be interested in you. But that's just an infantile quick reaction. How could he, right? Even though you were daydreaming about him so much, you would do anything to be his.
"You could" you whispered yet he heard.
He turned you around, making you face him. His face was all dark, probably because of the night, but you couldn't mistake that smirk for nothing. He was definitely thinking about it.
"I know you have a thing for me. No need to hide anymore."
You gulped as hearing that, your eyes pupils becoming bigger. You did not expect him to know. To his mind, no girl is important. He just uses them all. That's just how he was. So there was no hope in that.
"You see darling, we don't really match, but for this pair of tits..." he started, coming closer again and grabbing your boobs in his hands, squeezing them hard enough to make you whine inside your mouth "...I wouldn't mind taking you up here"
Heeseung let go of your breast, pushing you on the grass and have you falling on your back. He wished you would have fallen all the way, then those pretty legs will reveal something just as hot under that tight skirt.
"If you want me, try and win me, nerdy" he giggled, palming himself for a couple of seconds "It's all ready for you"
Were you actually going to give him head in front of the house where all of your friends were? Definitely. You would have never had another opportunity but this one. And as scared as you were that you'd be caught, it didn't even matter. At least you took Hee's dick inside your hungry mouth.
Heeseung is known to fuck around and change the dorms every weekends, and the rumour were spreading fast. Just like the rumours about his size, which were no joke. As you got on your knees and pulled down his trousers, his hard dick stood up in front of you, almost getting in your mouth itself. You felt scared as to how to do it. It was your first time, so you were not quite sure.
But fuck it, you needed to taste him already.
"Take it, already, bitch" he yelled, annoyed at your constant hesitation, even though it was only for a short time.
Your breasts still exposed in the cold were making you shiver, and the wet grass under your knees didn't help much either. But you had to do it now, otherwise it won't happen again. Heeseung will not give you his dick for free next time.
Anxiously you wrapped your lips around his dick, moving up and down, though barely making it half the way. You could already feel yourself gagging, making Heeseung smirk to himself. He was damn big. You used your hands to touch around his cock, holding his balls in your hands. Hee pushed your head down harder, you barely resisting.
He was so hard and difficult to control. If he knows there's something he wants to do, there is no little time for explaination. He will just do it.
"Force yourself to take me all"
Heeseung pushed his length all inside your mouth, reaching the middle of your throat, thrusting in and out while making you gag constantly. As much of a whore as you were for him, you couldn't do it. It was too much.
"On your knees to be popular...You suck, pretty, but you suck really badly"
Heeseung sighed at the view of you trying and failing, and left you alone in the grass, with your bra almost falling, on his way to find another girl dying to be his new whore.
[ Hi loves! I found myself in a really shit financial situation and I need to save to be able to cover my apartment deposit, which is a lot. If you could and would want to, it would mean the world to me if you'd help me out with that, every penny counts honestly. Doesn't matter if it's £1, £10, more or less, it's the thought. Thank you for reading this message! For payment information, please just text me. Also, as a gift, I will write special content for you.]
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prettyboykatsuki · 3 months
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wyll, in my opinion, gets the standard fare treatment for characters that are unequivocally good. i.e. people think he's boring and uninteresting. standard fare might be kind actually given the level of racism and unexplained slander (which is often just more thinly veiled racism). his reputation about being boring is not helped by the very blatant neglect of his storyline post his rewrite and release. as a wyll enjoyer i am hyperaware of the sorry state of his current story in all three acts
despite all of that and the glaring flaws - i still believe that wylls storyline is worth of being engaged with and explored.
one of the reasons (not the most major one, but one) i think wyll experiences so much neglect as a companion stems from a wider idea that "goodness" is always the uncomplicated, easy choice.
it's something i see a lot. wyll is boring because of his archetype as a princely and universally righteous guy. and this is interesting, because it always seems to functions under the assumption that wylls moral character is innate. that his heroic and righteous actions are in some capacity, uncomplicated.
uniquely among the male origin companions, through the course of wylls story - there is never a point in which he is at risk of making a truly 'bad' choice. both gale and astarions story have them at risk of making choices that are ultimately bad for them and others (especially tav when each character is romanced). gales godhood and astarions ascension are their in game moral failings. they are the result of having not broke the cycle and are 'bad' choices for the individual character.
wylls main choice is however his pact and the choice to break that pact. notably - wyll is never at risk of making a bad choice, only a selfish one.
from the critique i see of wyll - it seems like this is the element of him people find most egregious. he's too smooth, not rugged enough, not gritty enough. but i don't think wyll's character needs grit, necessarily.
if you take any time to dissect wyll at all, based on dialogue and character interaction, many of his choices put himself at the forefront of sacrifice. the game strips wyll of a lot of agency, but wyll also always abides by and sticks to his core belief. so often towards his own detriment.
not only does wyll bear the consequence of being turned into a devil (stripping him of the last remaining shred of identity he's ever had and one of the most important things in his life), he bore the burden of being banished when he made his pact, and was willing to do the same for the sake of his father when he is taken to moonrise.
and unlike gale (who i adore, to be clear) who's concept of self-sacrifice stems mostly from a low self-worth - the belief that dying is the best he can do - wyll truly views that it's better him than them.
wyll does not think twice about allowing himself to be the one to take the fall. he can play any part, take any role, even when these choices haunt him so obviously. wyll claims that he forgives his father, but opens up to you about fearing his feelings of missing him are one-sided. he believes that making his pact was the right choice, the one he would make again - but doesn't deny the obvious pain and solace that came along with being a wandering traveler and banished son.
wylls goodness is so deliberate. he is so staunch in upholding and acting on his beliefs that it is always narrative to his own detriment. when you view wyll like this , and view his choices with regards this character attribute, it is imo very hard to hate him.
wyll's goodness is his double edged sword. it makes him heroic, brave, fearless. and it makes him scared, uncertain and lonely. again, the story itself is bare bones and i understand that - but it is so very beautiful to me thinking of him and tav or just his general romance.
as wylls romance partner, encouraging wyll to break his pact is as tragic as it very beautiful. tav is wylls one selfish thing. one of the only reasons that would move him to not give himself up. one of the only reasons he is okay with forgoing his beliefs. he loves tav enough to break his own oaths, and make choices for himself and no one else. not as the blade, or as a ravengard - but just as wyll.
and that aspect of him is in my opinion, enforced, by the mindflayer tav ending. in which wylls monster-hunting and morals are made exceptions with / for tav. my enjoyment of hero corruption might be speaking for me, but i digress.
in every way though - i truly love wyll as a character. and while im well aware of the critical flaws in his in game story state, i think it's both unfortunate and unfair that people call him boring. to me he is anything but
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picaroroboto · 3 months
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For the past couple days, I've been unfortunately cursed with thinking about Zenos yae Galvus. I don't even particularly like him - not that I dislike him either, Zenosfuckers you can put your scythes down - but it seems to me like a lot of the fandom either greatly misunderstands him, or doesn't even care to try to understand him, which from an objective standpoint as someone who cares deeply about writing in video games kind of pisses me off. But I'm more pissed about the fact that I'm apparently going to keep thinking about this issue until I actually write a character analysis of him.
Q: "But, what even is there to analyze with him? Isn't he all about wanting to fight the WoL and nothing else?"
Well, you wouldn't be wrong with saying that. That motivation is at the forefront of his character, and even if you look closer, everything about him comes back to either "violence" or "lack of understanding of others". But there are more meaningful sides to his deceptively simple character. That question of meaning is what I really want to look into - what does his character mean, what symbolic or thematic role does he play in this story?
Q: "Better question: why are you posting this on your art blog/Fate meta sideblog?"
Good question, with a stupid answer: I have all of 6 followers on my FF14 sideblog, and around 150 here. Let's go under the cut so they don't have to read a wall of text, unless they want to.
When you look at and compare FF14's villains, you can see a very clear change, no doubts thanks to the change in main writers. ARR Gaius and Thordan are more or less two-bit villains - Gaius's memeable iconic Praetorium speech gives us insight into how fascists try to justify themselves but little into Gaius's actual personality, while all Thordan gets as far as depth of character is an NPC in a sidequest remarking that he wasn't always a bad person and was probably doing what he thought best for his nation. Nidhogg is a little more understandable, since revenge is a relatable motivation to anyone who's been hurt by others. In Stormblood, Zenos and Yotsuyu are both presented as deserving of pity even as they do terrible things. Come Shadowbringers and Endwalker though, the story takes a greater interest on why villains like Emet-Selch and Elidibus do the things they do, and the player is allowed more options to try to understand them and see how similar they are to the WoL. Hell, Hermes and the Endsinger are barely "villains" at all, with the level of sympathy the story shows them.
What I'm getting to here is that Zenos, with half his arc in Stormblood and the rest in Endwalker, is sort of caught in the middle of this shift. He played the role of the rival character in Stormblood really well, but come Endwalker, he's standing on a stage full of heroes and villains with grand causes and deep motivations, as the guy whose sole motivation is fighting for pleasure.
It seems he's not unaware of this contrast himself - when Jullus confronts him for ruining Garlemald for no good reason, he retorts with "Would you be happier had I a good reason?" Zenos makes no attempt to justify his own actions and doesn't care that his reason seems incomprehensible and unforgivable to others. Yet in that same cutscene Alisaie hits him with the fact that if he keeps living solely for pleasure, he'll die alone. When next we see Zenos, he's alone at the Royal Menagerie waxing philosophical about what he really sought in the battle with the WoL.
See, what really motivates Zenos isn't just the thrill of battle - this guy has gotten Battle High and the joy of human connection confused. Really.
Even before he gets so perturbed by the idea of dying alone, there's other suggestions, like his proposal of friendship to the WoL when they fought in Stormblood, and then later his dying words in which he explains that he never understood others - at his core, he's just lonely. I know there's an official side story that tells it, but you don't need to know the exact details to glean that he had some sort of tragic backstory. Sad, but not a surprise, considering he's the prince of the Garlean Empire, raised to take the throne and continue the Empire's legacy of violence.
At his core, he's a very lonely person, but also a thing of violence, raised using violent methods for the purpose of causing more violence. Violence is how he lives and breathes - the only way he gets any sort of connection with others in a world of hurting and being hurt is the brief connection warriors dueling as equals can sometimes find. Don't deny that this sort of connection exists - FF14 is great at making fights that are both fun and tell a story. Hence, why he goes crazy for the WoL, but also refers to them as "friend". In their fights, he senses (or thinks he senses) similarity between him and them. Beneath all the madness is a pure, genuine joy in seeing the self reflected in the other...but he also instantly gets on the train to projection-town, population Zenos, and assumes the WoL is exactly like him, ignoring or failing to notice that they also fight for deeper meanings. The worst part is, he doesn't even notice that what he's actually seeking in fighting them is connection until Alisaie's aforementioned callout.
So he goes and angsts for a while, then turns into a dragon again and flies across the universe to help us kick the Endsinger's tail feathers, then issues his challenge for that duel he'd been longing for. But what's changed is that he starts with a question - "Such pleasures you sought for their own sake, and for no other reason, is that not so?". Dying after the duel, he's full of questions too: "Was your life a gift or a burden? Did you find fulfillment?" Alisaie's suggestion that he'd die alone actually spurred him to realize what he actually sought in the WoL, and now he's asking all these questions in an attempt to, for the first time in his life, genuinely connect with another human being.
The questions aren't important just because they're a sign of how Zenos has changed in Endwalker - they're actually the thematic heart of Endwalker! ARR may have had "Answers" as it's theme, but EW is the expac of questions. Namely the biggest question of all: What is the meaning of life? Different characters have different answers to that, leading to the grand-scale symbolic conflict being the Endsinger's despair - her belief that there is no meaning in life - versus whatever reasons the WoL chooses to live for, left, as always, up to player interpretation.
When you look deeper, Zenos isn't actually as out-of-place in the symbolic conflict as he first seems. His depressed worldview - that metaphor about drowning in a swamp again - seems to align with the Endsinger's view about life being meaningless. But he aids the WoL in defeating her. In that way he serves as part of the answer to her question about the meaning of life. He may have resented life at times, but he still found meaning in chasing pleasure. Not the strongest or most beautiful reason to deny oblivion, perhaps, but it did enable him to help the WoL triumph. I think of Zenos's philosophy as being connected to the concept of "Amor Fati"...largely because this quote explaining it sounds like something he'd say, or at least agree with on some level:
"and if our soul has trembled with happiness and sounded like a harp string just once, all eternity was needed to produce this one event—and in this single moment of affirmation all eternity was called good, redeemed, justified, and affirmed."
So he does have a meaningful role in Endwalker, as the "Amor Fati" against the Endsinger's "Memento Mori". I think that in this the story shows that his reason for living, while somewhat shallow, is not necessarily a morally wrong thing in and of itself (setting aside for a second all the people he hurt in his pursuit of that). It's just that, since it is a lonely pursuit that denies everything except for his target, it still feels empty. The core of the counterargument against the Endsinger's despair is that both pleasure and fulfillment are necessary to live a meaningful life in a meaningless universe, and that's why Zenos is here in Endwalker. Why he even exists in the story in the first place.
Even if you're one of the people who deeply hates Zenos...well, you probably wouldn't have read this whole thing if you did, but I still think it's important to read into characters you dislike, because every character in a story is written for a reason. Plus, trying to understand even their worst enemies is one of the WoL's key traits as of ShB and EW. With his last breaths, Zenos was trying to understand the WoL too - carrying this understanding of him with you as we move into our next adventures is the least you can do for your "friend".
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gamermattsgf · 2 months
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Coming of age movie hot takes // Matt + Chris
YES, I realise that this is not a proper piece of writing, but don’t worry babies, mommy has got u covered for the weekend coming (hopefully) *nervous laugh*.
You guys can ignore this absolute yapping if u want but it’s really something that I must get off my chest because I think about it an unhealthy amount and make up too many scenarios for each of them in my head with themes and certain plot lines included. Plus, I feel like some of u are absolutely gonna eat this up lol.
But… here are my individual hot takes for both Matt and Chris and what kind of coming of age films they look like they’d star in + with specifically random but accurate details included. (Obviously these are all my own ideas and they may be vastly different to someone else’s, but I felt as though tumblr was the perfect place to brain dump this onto all of u lovely readers)
Matt:
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So first up is Matt. Matt gives very much one of those low budget indie coming of age movies where the quality may not be as good but the cinematography is beautiful, as is the plot line. Matt’s movie is the kind of movie you would go to watch and sob at for the entire time because it’s so irrevocably soul-crushing that it tears your heart up piece by piece. If he were to be in an indie movie I feel like it would low-key give off the same kind of energy as something like ‘All the Bright Places’ or possibly even ‘Five Feet Apart’.
Something absolutely tragic is bound to happen in Matt’s movie, and I feel like him dying due to some kind of terminal illness is a high possibility because I don’t know why, it just fits his vibe in a really weird way? Like- his coming of age movie has to be unbareably depressing for some reason.
He’s delicate and gentle, one of those really interesting characters that has so many layers/complications to him. Him and his main love interest share such an odd but heart-warming relationship that you just can’t help but be stuck thinking about the movie days after it’s finished. It bothers you so much that their happy ending was just out of reach.
For the soundtrack, I’m mostly getting Phoebe Bridgers vibes (specifically her Punisher album), something that’s mind-numbingly sad and fits the overall heartache of the cinematography so well that you just want to cry whenever something like ‘Smoke Signals’ or ‘Halloween’ plays beneath the ensuing dialogue. Also, in addition to Phoebe, I also get heavy Current Joys vibes such as ‘In a Year of 13 Moons’ and ‘A Different Age’. The very thought of imagining it makes me want to flat out sob.
Outfit / aesthetic wise for Matt, I envision very much warm brown leather jackets and baggy blue jeans with beat up sneakers and knitted sweaters. He always carries a tattered notebook and drives around a beat up pick-up truck. He smokes red Marlboro cigarettes and constantly seems to have one neatly tucked behind his ear (what-? It would literally look so pretty matched up with his beard and fluffy hair combo… don’t kill me). He’s shy and likes to keep himself to himself but is also hopelessly in love with our main character that also sort of keeps to herself, so he decides to pursue her before it’s too late.
I also feel like this Matt would for sure write 100 love letters to the main character but she would only discover them hidden within his notebook after he had died because when he was still alive he would never tell her what he was writing down whenever they shared moments together. Possibly Matt never got the chance to confess his feelings whilst he was alive, so they stayed forever friends and nothing more right up until he slipped through her fingers at the very end…?
(Bye I’m sobbing, why the fuck does my mind have to be so vivid and imaginative??)
Chris:
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For Chris I feel like it’s a little different. His coming of age movie would definitely be a mix between a light-hearted comedy of the classic ‘underdog that finally gets the girl’ whilst also incorporating really important life lessons into the mix of the colourfully bursting screenplay. In contrast, the cinematography is just as beautiful as Matt’s, but in a hazier way, so I’m getting very much party + late night hang out vibes from what Chris’ gives off. This includes darker, more moodier lighting, almost like ‘Euphoria’ in a way. I think his movie would more so correlate with either something like ‘Perks of being a Wallflower’ or even something like ‘10 things I hate about you’. I think the added comedy matches up with Chris’ personality in real life perfectly.
There’s definitely got to be one of those cliche scenes where they lock eyes at a party and all of the other guys on the football team are staring at the most well-known girl in school but Chris only has eyes for our main character. There’s some form of blue/pink/purple flashing lights and everything seems to take place in slow motion as they tentatively peer at each other from opposite sides of the random fish tank before them (Romeo and Juliet style) or some other form obstacle in the way.
For Chris’ soundtrack, I’m thinking something a little more upbeat, and I was possibly debating on Lorde, her songs fit Chris perfectly in my opinion, and no one understands the young mind quite like she does. The emotional vulnerability of her songs mesh together beautifully with Chris’ love language of touch and teenage curiosity and I can just envision something like ‘Perfect Places’ or ‘Hard Feelings’ playing over the back of one of those ending monologues where the movie cuts to a bunch of different scenes as maybe Chris says something really sappy and sentimental over the top of them in his voiceover.
Finally, outfit / aesthetic wise for Chris, I would normally put him in his baggy light-wash jeans and then pair it with a white t-shirt and some form of a zip up hoodie with a backwards cap, but to be honest, most of what Boston Chris used to wear way back when works pretty well too. I’m thinking, typical high school student attire, he’s on the lacrosse team, and is always wholesomely trying his best to impress the girl he’s had a crush on for years with his skills, giving the movie that light, feel-good atmosphere that leaves you with a fuzzy glow after you’ve rewatched it for about the 5th time.
(Again, actually sobbing, I wish these two brief ideas of movies actually existed wtf)
Author’s notes: I’m sorry if this is literally so stupid but I think about it so much, and I think about a lot of other possible movies the triplets look like they could star in. In fact, I even have a whole entire second series sitting in my camera roll of me explaining what horror movies I think each of them would look good in, so if u guys end up liking this one, then I would consider giving u a breakdown of my horror movie ideas if anyone were to wish it hehe. But thank u for listening to my rant and I hope it makes as much sense in your head as it did in mine… 🎀
People who I think would entertain this yapping and enjoy what I have to say here: @luv4kozume @luverboychris @lovingmattysposts @luvmila444 @rootbeerworshiper @nicksmainbitch @lacysturniolo @thesturniolos @strniohoeee @asturniolos @sturniolosreads @sturniolosstar @meanttomeet @sturniolowhore @mattscokewhore @matthemunch @mattestrella @vecnasnose0 @ellie-luvsfics @imwetforyourmom @breeloveschris @kvtie444 @stursweet @bernardsgf @fake-sturniolos @mattslutt @1800chokedathoe @orangeypepsi
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megamindsecretlair · 2 months
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Could you do a one shot with mob boss Tyrone?
A/N: My sweet Anon, you asked for one and I present to you seven. Why am I like this?
Blackbird, Part 1: Lust
Pairing: Mob Boss!Fontaine x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut, fluff, angst, cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, all consensual. Use of n-word and non-inclusive language. Minor OC backstory.
Summary: You are a dancer trying to make it in a world not built for your body type. Fontaine is a gangster trying to rise through the ranks of a prominent gang. Will love truly conquer all?
Word Count: 10,810k
Interested in a Blackbird playlist? I'm not the greatest at curating songs but these remind me of these two. I may add or remove songs at my discretion.
A/N: Listen, I know. I couldn't get this idea out of my head and just kept writing. I'm trying something new here, so any feedback is welcome! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!
Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @babybratzmaraj @iv0rysoap @misskiki90 @harmshake @sageispunk @ciaqui @ms-angiealsina @satoruya @hopefulromantic1 @itsbackwoodsbby
Moodboard by the sweestes person ever, planetblaque 🥹🥹🥹
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You looked at your watch on your delicate wrist. Night chased the afternoon out of the sky, taking over in their delicate push and pull. Night was safer for confessions. For reflection. 
The sun’s rays slanted through the blinds and you blinked against the bitter light. “My apologies, would you like me to close them?” Your lawyer, Mr. Gates, asked you. 
“Please,” you said. You sighed and adjusted your neat teal dress across your knees. There was nothing to fix, but you supposed you were nervous. After all these years, you thought that you would carry these secrets to the grave. Everything was different now. 
Mr. Gates moved to the window and shut the blinds more fully, draping you in the safe comfort of his office. Mr. Gates had been part of the family for years now, a profession he took seriously. It was refreshing to speak to someone who couldn’t be bought. Who would never fold, not even under threat of death. 
The office had been cleared especially for you, per your request. People liked to gossip. Busybodies, your grandmother called them. The only sound was the low hum of the AC blowing cool air into the room and Mr. Gates shuffling around. 
He finally sat down at his desk, the chair creaking under his weight. He pulled out a small recorder and showed it to you, the exact model you requested. You dipped your chin in acknowledgement. He took out a notebook, new and clean of any writing. You hoped he had enough pens. 
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked.
You adjusted your dress once more, running your hands along the fine, silken material. You licked your lips and looked back up at him. “I don’t wanna die without marking the occasion first,” you said with a clipped smile. 
Each day it drew closer to the date, you got used to the idea of dying. You had a good run. It could have been better. But you weren’t one to be greedy. 
Mr. Gates smiled softly, perhaps a little sad. It was nice to know someone would miss you. There would be one person on this earth who’d care if you were gone. That was something. 
Mr. Gates wrote down something on his notepad and pressed a button on the recorder. He cleared his throat and introduced himself, the date, and the time. He asked you to state your name for the record. 
“...of sound mind and body do declare this to be read as my last will and testament.” 
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“Goddammit!” You yelled. Your fists thumped against the rough wood of the door as it finished slamming into your face. The asshole on the other side was just as faceless as the long stream of dance companies that tossed you out on your ass. There were plenty more, sure, but this one had been reputable. Fair. 
They took one look at your raggedy dance clothes, worn from too many times around the washer. At your hair, styled high above your head in braids they didn’t understand but were obsessed with. You didn’t have the time or the money to go to a salon. Just once, you’d like someone else to bother with your thick hair and its maintenance. You couldn’t be bothered. 
You’d shave it all off but you didn’t want to deal with the mean and hurtful comments about you looking like a boy. Your knuckles were just getting over being bruised and tender from the last mu’fucka that tried to talk out the side of their neck. 
“Asshole!” You screamed. It was open auditions. Open. Auditions. That meant that anyone could come in and try their hand. You had killed the routine. You only needed to watch something once to get it down. To feel it move through your body like a live wire and your muscles respond. To mimic it to near perfection and add your spin on it. Nothing fancy, just an extra oomph that these companies seemed to lack. 
You had waited to the side with the other girls, all wispy, wafer thin girls who took one look at your curves and deemed you less than. A joke. That you couldn’t possibly move your body like they could.
One had the audacity to allude to that, calling it doing you a favor. Next thing you knew, your fist was flying and she was crying foul, blood running down her aristocratic nose. You just gave her a little more character, honest.
You cursed under your breath and moved away from the building. To hell with them. You shifted your dance bag over your shoulder and walked backwards. The marquee above the door announced an upcoming performance. Below it, there was the name of the headliner, Gabriella Greywood. 
One day, and one day soon, your name would be up there. In bright lights. And no amount of racist, fatphobic fucks were going to stop you. 
You turned and headed down the street, running head first into a person, solidly built by the feel of them. 
“My bad, sweetheart,” a deep, rumbling voice greeted you. 
Your mouth was already fixing to give him hell for not watching where he was going and that you were nobody’s “sweetheart”. The words dried on your tongue as you looked up into a deep set of brown eyes that crinkled a bit in the corner when he smiled. 
He had a low fade and short beard, shaved close to his strong jaw. Pretty, long eyelashes that fanned across his cheeks whenever he blinked. He smirked, checking you out while you ogled him. 
“S’okay,” you said, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. He took in your tights and oversized gray sweatshirt. 
“You heading inside?” He asked. 
“Away from it. Those fucks wouldn’t know talent if it bit them in the ass,” you said.
The man chuckled and nodded, like he liked your honesty. Your words. “Fuck ‘em,” he said, gifting you with another smirk. You wondered what he’d look like when he really smiled. When he let it take up his whole face. 
Too bad you didn’t have time for men. You may be behind most of your friends in that department. Their heads were full of getting married and popping out babies while they were still young. Like they were checking off boxes handed down to them through the generations. Grow up, learn just enough, get married, pop out babies, and then your real life starts once they are grown up with babies of their own. Fuuuck that.
“Where you headed then?” He asked. A noise to his left made you look up and see an entire other man standing next to him. He was a bit taller, broader around the shoulders, with a narrow face and a mischievous look in his eye.
“Home, I guess. Until I find the next studio giving out auditions,” you said. Your attention was solely fixated on the man in front of you. His friend grinned and moved away, lighting up a joint. He put a foot on top of a fire hydrant and pretended to ignore you both. 
“Let me give you a ride,” he said. You couldn’t stop staring at his face. He was magnetic. Like he commanded attention whether you wanted to give it or not. 
You giggled, stomach doing tiny flips. “I don’t know you,” you said, giving him a hint of the attitude you’re famous for. None of this, giggly, braid around your finger nonsense. 
“Get to know me. Let me take you to Scarlet Lounge,” he said. His voice was smooth. Too smooth. 
You crossed your arms and tilted your head. “That’s a gangster bar,” you said. 
“What you got against gangstas?” He asked.
“They’re mean, amoral, kill for no reason, run drugs, and turn out little girls. They’re nothing but bad news,” you said.
“Damn, amoral. That’s a big one,” he said. He chuckled and licked his lips, calling attention to his mouth once more. Your body heated instantly, wanting to know what they taste like. What they feel like on your skin. What his hands would feel like on your skin. 
“Not all gangstas are the same. Maybe some just wanna get over in a life hellbent on kicking them in the teeth,” he said. He put his hands in his pockets and you finally noticed what he was wearing. Simple jeans and a black hoodie, faded from too many washes like your clothes. You felt a sudden kinship with him, an understanding passed between you in being in similar situations. Just two mu’fuckas trying to make it.
“Are you saying you’re a gangsta?” You asked.
“If I say yes, you gon’ hold it against me?” Oh, he was dangerous. Absolutely dangerous. 
You had gone on entire tirades about the level of crime in LA. It was insidious. The dangerous, hopeless underbelly that all kids from the hood grew up with was like a giant dome that prevented anyone from truly getting out. Truly making something of yourself. You either joined a gang, married into a gang, or rode the struggle bus ‘till God called you home.  
You could leave. You could find some area where the people would treat you like a freak or like you didn’t belong but you would be safe. None of them would look like you. Or understand you. Change had to start in the hood. There had to be hope some-fucking-where.
“Probably,” you said. 
He smirked and shook his head. “Cold game. What’s your name, sweetheart?” He asked.
You should walk away. There was no way you could entertain someone like him. No way. Your feet felt rooted to the spot, unwilling to walk away from him or this moment. The more you looked at him, the more you felt connected to him. That each minute you spent in his presence, you felt tiny stitches being woven in between you.  
“I’ll tell you what gangsta boy. We bump into each other again and I’ll tell you my name,” you said. You turned on the balls of your feet, walking backwards away from him.
“You gon’ do me like that? Forreal?” He asked. The corner of his gorgeous mouth lifted higher. It was almost worth staying to see if you could get a real smile out of him. 
“Byeee,” you sang. You giggled, heading towards the train station. You turned around and gave your hips a little extra swish. 
“I’m Fontaine!” He called after you. It took all of your strength not to turn back around. You waved your fingers high in the air but kept walking. You didn’t really think you’d bump into him again. You couldn’t afford the distraction even if you did. You’d head back home to your shitty apartment that you shared with your best friend and regroup. 
You needed to keep your eyes on the prize. You had a future to secure. And it did not involve pretty corner boys who talked smooth.
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You finished doing your makeup in the vanity, touching up the bright red lipstick one more time and checked over your outfit. Muted music and cheers reached you into the backroom, from the set before yours. 
Other dancers were touching up their outfits as well, skimpy little things that barely qualified as a costume. The leotards were black with thin stripes, sparkly silver edges that dug into your groin and under your arms. The designer, an evil little bitch with too much hair and a permanent sour expression, thought she was so damn important. Half the time, it was clear that she thought she was too good to design clothes en masse for a dance club. 
You wore fishnet stockings like the others, black leather heeled boots, and a tiny black hat in your hair. You had sparkly glitter dusted across your cheeks so that your eyes would pop. Not that anyone would see you. You were relegated to the back in every single fucking number. 
Everyone here had the same dream as you. It just came down to who was hungrier. Who was going to stick it out. You had been dancing your whole life and you’d be damned to let some wide-eyed, bushy tail ho from Minnesota steal your dream. You’d put in the work, you’d put in your dues, and soon, you’d be headlining your own show. Working with top directors and choreographers. Maybe even get into dancing on TV.
“One minute!” One of the stagehands called into the room. Kimmy approached you and looked at you in the mirror. 
“Another day?” She asked.
“Another dollar,” you said back. 
You both grinned and stood up, heading out of the dressing room and into the chaos backstage. Stagehands moved in a dance all their own, carefully moving around each other with headsets squawking with directions you couldn’t hear. Coordinating the lights and music, curtains, and set decorations. 
The previous music was coming to a close, ending on a loud roaring beat that you felt down to your toes. Adrenaline thumped through you. Despite whatever else you went through, this made sense. This was the time that your mind finally shut up. That your focus on your dreams drifted to the back and all you had to do was feel the music. The euphoria that came with losing all sense of identity while dancing.
You stood on the stairs on the left side of the stage, too far away to see the current set; you’d seen the performance so many times you had it memorized. The group before you had done a circus themed dance, full of contortionists, flips, and tumbles. The performers worked hard to make it look so seamless, you were in awe every time. 
They were due to exit on the right, to not interrupt your group. Their song ended, the curtains closing and claps echoing throughout the club. You were shuffled on stage, getting into position in the far back. Haters. Whatever. 
Stagehands used pulleys to change the scenery behind you, to an alleyway facade. There was a fake brick wall beside you getting rolled in. The announcer, the sleazeball Rusty, was on stage and getting everyone pumped up. 
You looked at Kimmy and made a face and she giggled, waving you off. The music for your number started to play, a slow and sexy jam. You were supposed to be a lady mafia, punishing men in a cold dark alley. 
Once the curtains were open and the spotlight hit you in the face, you were gone. There was only the part you played, filling in the background while the lead dazzled the audience. You told yourself not to care, but deep down you did. It was disheartening to know that in your heart of hearts, you were more talented. You were a better dancer. You just refused to suck Rusty’s dick to get to the top. 
So you focused on the music, on the dance, and executed it flawlessly. You were in the back now, but you weren’t going to stay there. You didn’t see the audience, you didn’t see the idiots at the bar, and you didn’t see any of the VIPs in the back, scoping out the dancers to see which ones they wanted to bring to the private backrooms for a “dance”. 
You didn’t play that shit. You were too spiteful, too hateful, too outspoken. And you’d continue to do so. You had to take a pay cut to not be involved with that shit. It was illegal and unfair, but it beat spreading your legs for dirty cops and gangstas. 
As you danced, your mind was partially split between what you were doing and the man you met the other day. Fontaine. You couldn’t stop saying his name. It rolled so well off of the tongue. Fontaaaine. 
You nearly missed a step and mentally slapped yourself. You focused on the dance, lots of gyrating and popping your hips. Lots of slow glides down to the floor and rolling your back. Invisible prop assistants threw you all fake uzis and you ended the dance facing away from the crowd. You jerked your hand to pretend like you were shooting a gun into the alleyway while a group of male dancers pretended to die.
The crowd cheered behind you but your mind was already beating yourself up. Already going over what you could have done better. It’d help if your performances were recorded but for the “privacy of its patrons”, Rusty wouldn’t let anyone record inside. Phones had to be off or silent and there were plenty of bouncers willing to break expensive phones to ensure everyone’s “safety”. 
Among the last to leave the stage, you turned to walk back to the dressing room. It didn’t feel like thirty minutes went by. You were sweating buckets though. Fat little droplets soaking your leotard and dripping from your temples. 
“Aye!” You turned to the sound. “Over here!” 
You knew better than to follow some strange sound around backstage, but the voice sounded familiar. Like warm caramel. You looked towards the front, where a bouncer stood to ensure that no one slipped past the curtain. 
“Over here!” You walked towards the darkened back, following the sound. There stood Fontaine, standing behind a storage door. He smirked when he saw you. 
“What are you doing back here?” You rushed over to him, pushing him into the storage room. You looked for people behind you. This area was where dancers left so it was hardly used for anything else. There were old decorations here, forgotten sets that needed to be stripped and repainted. 
Fontaine’s callused hands pulled you into the storage room. Somehow, he found the lone lamp that worked and the soft light filled the room. It was junky. Full of chairs, tables, tablecloths. The overflow supplies. 
“You said if we bumped into each other again, you’d tell me your name,” he said. 
“This isn’t bumping into each other,” you pointed out. Your hands were still around his arms and his hands had relocated your hips. 
“Sheeit, this is better,” he said. 
You shook your head. “What are you doing here, gangsta boy?” You asked.
“Tell me your name first,” he said. He cocked his head to the side, letting you get a glimpse of his dark eyes. 
A deal was a deal, you guessed. You told him your name and he rolled it around his tongue like cotton candy. “I like that, suits you,” he said.
“Your turn,” you said.
“Scarlets run this place, you ain’t know?” He asked.
“You work for Porter Sommer?” You asked. Porter Sommer was a ruthless drug kingpin that ran all of South Central. There wasn’t shit that went down in the hood that he didn’t have a fat little finger in. You’d only seen him once and it was enough to turn your stomach. He had dead eyes like a shark. 
“He ain’t all that, I swear,” Fontaine said, shaking his head. “He the only nigga that give back ‘round here.”
“Give back? He got kids doing drugs in the parking lot before their parents pick them up. He shake niggas down for every last nickel they got,” you said. 
“That ain’t us. That’s that bitch Shayne,” Fontaine said. He shook his head. “I ain’t come here for all that. I saw you on stage and I had to tell you that you were amazing.”
Now that you knew who he worked for, you weren’t sure if you wanted to continue dealing with him. You hadn’t given much thought to which side of the street he fell on. The Crips and the Bloods thought they were the top bosses in LA, aggressively defending square blocks they didn't own.
Porter Sommer and Shayne Blandford were the real OGs. They actually bought up the houses and stores on the blocks, doing their hardest to outbid each other at every opportunity. They both preyed on the weak and didn’t care who got caught in their crossfires. 
Fontaine looked at you with such admiration though. Like he saw you. Like you weren’t just another dancer on stage. That he saw you with the same lights shining on you that you pictured in your head. 
You stepped away from him to try to get some clarity. Obviously, touching him and getting that close to him was addling your brain. You were seriously thinking about entertaining a bad boy. One of the worst.
“What do you do for Porter then?” You asked. You crossed your arms. 
Fontaine sighed and leaned back against an old desk. It wobbled under his weight and he looked down at it but then turned his attention back to you. “Do it matter? You gon’ judge me for it anyway,” he said.
“I’m not judging that you’re a corner boy. I’m judging that you work for Porter. That man is…scary,” you said.
“He a’ight,” Fontaine said with a shrug. “And I ain’t no corner boy no mo. Ya boy moved up and shit,” he said. He smirked and you could see him puffing his chest out. You giggled. He looked so proud of that fact. 
You wanted to keep up your defenses against him. You wanted to walk out of the room and tell him to get lost. You could not get your head turned out by a gangsta. You didn’t have the heart for that kind of life. Why did you have to meet someone like him and he was bad news? 
“Moved up how?” You asked. 
“Protection services,” he said and waggled his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes playfully and couldn’t fight the grin that ran across your face. Whether he was outside or in this dingy ass room, he carried the same level of magnetism. Charisma. 
“I cannot with you,” you said. 
Fontaine stood up and slowly walked over to you. He had a mean ass lean to it that caused your stomach to flip in response. He was the total package, both in looks and wit. But, but, but. 
He stood before you and clasped his hands behind his back. “I feel something. And I know you feel something too. I’d like to get to know you, sweetheart. Let me change your mind about gangstas,” he said.
“I don’t pay attention to words, gangsta boy. Your world is dangerous,” you said. 
“You watch too many movies. Real gangstas talk and shit,” he said. He smirked and swayed from side to side. He was hypnotic. You swayed with him like he casted a spell on your body. Each word he spoke wove magic through your veins. 
“Oh, really? Bunch of backroom deals and offers people can’t refuse?” You asked. You began to back towards the door. The only way to survive Fontaine was to escape. To remove yourself from the situation. With his voice and the way he spun words, he’d be liable to talk you right off of the City Hall building. 
“Let me find out you like gangsta movies and you just giving me a hard time,” he said. He looked at you and slowly began to approach you. You had nowhere left to go. Your back was against the door. 
“Maybe I just like giving you a hard time,” you said. You moved your hand behind you until your hand touched the cool metal of the doorknob. Fontaine’s mouth twitched but it wasn’t a smile. Dammit, you wanted to see him smile. 
His minty breath fanned across your face as he leaned closer. You bit your lip. “I’on know if you heard me, but I’m in the protection game now. You don’t have to worry about anything ever again, I’m gon’ give you the world,” he said.
You smiled, letting his words fill up your head like fresh, doughy clouds after a storm. Plenty of people talked a good game. There was a long line of disappointing men who talked and talked but never backed it up. Starting with your daddy. Fontaine’s voice had the deep rumble of conviction behind it. He meant every single word. And you had no doubt that he could back it up. 
But, but, but.
“I can’t be bought, Fontaine. I never asked for the world,” you said. 
“I know. I’m gon’ give it to you anyway. With a matching moon,” he said. 
You dropped your eyes from his intense gaze. The light didn’t quite reach this far, so you two practically stood in shadow. He blended into the shadow. Welcomed it. Like he lived and breathed in it. 
“I’m a man of action. And I’ll prove it.” He dropped his head and kissed you. Electricity zapped your lips. His kiss was languid. Slow. Tongue already working its way inside your mouth like it owned it. Your hands came around his neck to pull him closer. 
The kiss was intense, disconcerting. He knew exactly what to do too, alternating kisses and little nibbles. Your wet lips smacked against his and your pussy throbbed. He pushed you into the door, hands gripping onto your hips like he was holding on for dear life. 
If he was magnetic before, it paled in comparison to touching him. Feeling him. You felt him everywhere. Each kiss sucked you further down into the shadows with him and you never wanted to taste the light again.
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You paused here and took a deep breath. Mr. Gates cleared his throat and paused the recorder. “Do you want to skip this part?” He asked.
So kind. Mr. Gates was always so kind. He was a rare breed compared to all the men in your life. Especially when compared to Fontaine. However, Fontaine had no equal. There was no one who came close. 
That first kiss ought to have been where you drew the line. You knew better than to sit in storage rooms with strange men and let them kiss you. Let them feel on your booty. Just remembering it, brought heat to your cheeks and to your core. You felt the ghost of Fontaine’s hands on your legs, on your hips. That playful smirk tickling your neck.
You shook your head. “I just need a minute. I-I need him to know that it was always real for me. That I went into it with both eyes open,” you said. 
Mr. Gates nodded and got up, leaving his office for a moment. Your mind wandered, thinking back to those early days. From bumping into Fontaine to everything that followed after. Like the Hand of God tripped you over Fontaine’s feet so that you would meet. Would know. So that you would know each other and know what it was like to love with your entire body. 
Moments later, you collected yourself. Mr. Gates seemed to know exactly when. He came back into the office without any prodding from you. You smiled at his kind, grandfatherly face. He had white hair sticking out the sides of his head. You bet he was a player when he was younger. 
“Would you like to continue?” He asked.
You took a deep breath. “Yes, where was I? Um…so, Fontaine did exactly that. He proved with more than his words that we had something songs got written about…”
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Fontaine attended every performance every night you worked. You were still in the background and he looked at you as if the spotlight was on you. He didn’t help your ego at all. 
After every night, he’d somehow sneak backstage with a single red rose to tell you that you were the best dancer up there. He stole kisses after each one too. At this point, you didn’t know why you were still resisting him. You weren’t some prude waiting for a man to drop to one knee; you didn’t believe in that shit. 
There was something a little hot about making him sweat it out. Something a little erotic about heavy petting and making out and living in the moment spent with your lips colliding and tongues exploring. With his hands around your ass and your hand rubbing him over his jeans. 
You hadn’t had many occasions to lust after someone. Sometimes guys made you crane your neck, but you had a single minded focus that saw you through your shitty childhood, through your awkward teenage years, through screaming matches, and slammed doors. You got what you needed from guys, the only things they were really good for, and you left them high and dry. You left them while spit flew from their mouths as they called you bitches, hos, and anything else their little brains could think of.
Funny how once you treated boys how they treated you, you were suddenly the devil incarnate. 
But you lusted. Every dip of Fontaine’s hips made your body respond in kind. Like he had a direct line to your pussy and constantly tugged on it to drive you crazy. He knew the effect he had on you too. 
He always made sure to blow you a kiss while you were on stage. When he smirked, he liked to look at you out of the corner of his eyes. He made sure to grab your ass while making out, squeezing them like trying to get juice from a lemon. Oh and when he got to rubbing his stubble along your neck, your eyes would roll back and he’d tell you to quit being so cute before he dicked you down. 
Fontaine made you hot and bothered. In more ways than one. As much as you were interested in him, you still hated what he had to do to survive. You understood the game, but it didn’t mean you had to love it. 
When you weren’t on stage and you were taking your break, waiting for the next set, you would sneak out to the front of the house so that you could see the performances, see what worked and what didn’t. Sometimes you’d grab a drink and wait for Fontaine to sneak away to kiss you. 
And sometimes you’d see him heading to the private rooms, escorting your fellow dancers and whichever powerful men wanted to use them for the night. Rusty was always there with a grin on his face and dollar signs in his eyes. It was disgusting. 
Rusty never touched anyone but your best friend Kimmy. He took one look at her and fell ass over teakettle for your sweet friend who had a kid to look after. On top of paying her a little more, Rusty rented an apartment for Kimmy and her kid. She didn’t think anything of the little bargain. One man was better than a revolving door. 
Sometimes anger boiled in your veins at the mere thought. You wanted to burn this place to the ground. It was true that you chose to come here, night after night. However, dancing was the only thing that kept the anger at bay. Well, that wasn’t entirely true anymore. 
As Fontaine walked around the tables on his way to you, you found unexpectedly that his presence tamed the wildness of your anger. It wasn’t completely gone. The slightest thing would set you off. Until you bubbled over like a volcanic eruption, burning everything and everyone in your path. You weren’t like that with Fontaine. You didn’t want to be like that with Fontaine. And all it took was a few dozen roses and sweet stolen kisses. 
“Hey sweetheart,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting. He was starting to grow his hair out. Since he moved to protection, he started dressing a little fancier. Dickies instead of jeans, plain T-shirts instead of whatever graphic tee caught his fancy. 
Fontaine dressed all in black did things to your libido that wasn’t fit for mixed company. The short sleeved black tee seemed like he bought a size down on purpose, to emphasize his muscles. 
“Hey you,” you said. 
“Isaac was telling me about the Fair. We should go,” he said. 
“The Fair? What we gonna do there?” You asked. 
“I’on know. Fair shit,” he said, that damn smirk. You were going to get him to smile if it was going to be the last thing you did on this earth. 
“You gon’ win me a teddy bear?” The question popped out before you could think about it and snatch it right back. You wished you could swallow the words, unring the bell, and ask him something different. Something that wasn’t a little too close to home. You always wanted someone to win you a teddy bear from one of those Fair games, carry it around for you. 
But that shit was for other, softer girls and men who actually gave a damn. For TV movies and shows with people who didn’t look like you. 
“I’m gon’ win the biggest one. So Friday night?” He asked. 
“Friday night,” you agreed, little butterflies taking flight in your stomach. 
“It’s a date sweetheart,” he said. He kissed your cheek and you watched his generous backside as he went back to the backrooms, making sure your friends were safe. As much as they could be. 
When he approached the door, Issac came out of it looking self satisfied. The corner of your mouth lifted in a grimace. Isaac was attractive but something was throwing you off about him. Whether it was his vibe or the oily way he looked at everybody, Fontaine included, you made a mental note to get the full story behind them.
It was obvious that they were close and did next to everything together. Issac said something to Fontaine who shook his head but bumped fists with Isaac. It’d have to be none of your business for now. 
Friday night rolled around and Fontaine was punctual in his champagne colored 90s Cadillac. You didn’t know much about cars, but you knew enough to appreciate the craftsmanship and that Fontaine lovingly took care of it.
It was shined to gleaming, silver chrome glinting from the streetlamps. Night was fast approaching and you had a long drive to Pomona, to the Fairgrounds. It was the first time in his car and you had to admit, you were a little nervous. 
Fontaine got out of the car and you had to whistle at him. He wore black jeans, black boots, and a red flannel buttoned up. The top two buttons were out, giving you a peek of a black tank underneath. He wore his signature jacket, the same one he wore when you met. You had half a mind to say fuck the Fair and invite him inside. 
“I know where yo nasty ass mind is at,” he said as he came around to the street to greet you with a kiss on your cheek. He handed you a single red rose.
“What you talkin’ ‘bout?” You asked.
“I know I look good,” he said. He smirked and stepped out, showing you his outfit. He dusted invisible lint from the front of his shirt and you laughed. 
“You really do look good,” you said. 
“But you look good enough to lick on,” he said. He bit his lip and eyed your outfit, a spaghetti strap dress with a modestly low neckline and blue and red ombre colors. It started out royal blue at the top until it began to lighten around the hips, turning into a jam red at the bottom. 
“And you call me nasty,” you said. You tapped his shoulder and his cheeks puffed up. You half thought you were going to get a smile but he stopped himself at the last minute. 
“Just telling the truth. Matter of fact, you look too damn good. I’on wanna spend the night catching bodies behind yo cute ass,” he said.
“Shut up!” You giggled. Fontaine said the cutest shit sometimes. Threatening murder behind you was not sexy, but when it dropped from his lips it was. It was a type of possession you didn’t think you craved, but you did. You wanted to belong to him in every sense of the word. 
Fontaine escorted you into the street and opened the door for you. You slid inside his car, smoothing your dress over the leather seats. It smelled clean, like some type of mountain scent laced with the particular smell of weed. Fontaine closed the door and walked around the front, climbing in himself. 
Low, thumping hip hop music was on in his car and you looked at him. This was different. He was different. And you only wanted to see where the night took you. 
As Fontaine got onto the 10 freeway, he got comfortable and leaned back in his seat. The seat was further back still and you got the sense that it stayed a little too far back on purpose. He kept his left hand on the wheel and dropped his other hand to your knee. 
You looked at it and it felt right. His hand was warm across your knee and you sunk into the seat, placing your hand over his. The corner of his mouth lifted as you began to speak and get to know each other beyond just his kisses. 
“How long you think you gon’ be a gangsta?” You asked.
“Damn girl. Not even gon’ ask me what my favorite color is?” He asked. The red lights from the cars in front of you lit up his face and you found that red suited him well. The starkness of the color played across his features in a way that made him seem timeless. 
“I already know what yo favorite color is,” you said.
“What?” He asked. He rubbed this thumb across your knee and you lost the ability to think for a minute. 
Everybody Loves the Sunshine played on his stereo and you shook your thoughts loose finally. “It’s purple,” you said.
Fontaine chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, you been paying attention to a nigga, huh?” He asked. 
“Whatever, Fontaine,” you said.
“Love it when you say my name. You draw it out and shit,” he said. 
“I do not! Just answer my question!” 
Fontaine was silent for a moment, weaving in and out of crazy LA traffic. Every year it got worse and worse. To the point that you almost didn’t want to leave the house most days. It was why you started taking the train more. It sucked, but it beat dealing with the mu’fuckas that continued to flock here chasing their paper dreams. 
“I’on know how to do anything else. That 9-5 ain’t me,” he finally said, his voice smooth and low. “I need to know if that’s ever going to be a problem. If you can ever accept that this is the life I’m in.”
He slanted his eyes towards you. This was the most serious you’d ever seen him. And Fontaine was a pretty serious person more often than not. He got this look in his eyes, like he saw the world burning before him and didn’t want to bother grabbing a bucket of water to help. Like he liked it. 
“I won’t promise to never speak on it. I’m…scared to lose you,” you said. You were surprised it was true. You made him sweat for a month, turning down his date ideas just to see what he would do. Testing him, you supposed. If he was in it for you or for what you had between your legs. Usually you could tell the difference with perfect accuracy.
When it came to Fontaine, nothing was certain. And you didn’t know if that scared you to the point of attraction, or turned you on to the point of fear. 
Fontaine squeezed your knee. “You don’t gotta worry about that, sweetheart. It’s me and you,” he said.
Me and you. Those three little words planted themselves inside you, taking root and growing vines around your bones. Sprouting leaves in your lungs and stretched towards your brain, filling it with the oxygen you needed to breathe. Three little words. The wonder of it brought unexpected tears to your eyes. 
You grinned at Fontaine. For the rest of the car ride, you got to know more about him. More about his little brother who was killed and why he joined the Scarlets. Why he took up a gun and was never putting it down again.
It made more sense in context. The circumstances were always fucked in the hood. And the tender heart you tried so hard to guard against all evil only broke more for Fontaine. He told you about how his mother retreated into herself. Only got herself together long enough to fake the funk at work and then disappeared into her room. 
With mounting bills and not wanting to live off anyone, Fontaine did what any other Black male did in his situation. He grew up. 
You told him about your toxic childhood. How your parents alternated between fighting and fucking. That when your dad was lost to the drink, he’d look at you like you were a stranger. And when he sobered up, he looked at you like you were a princess atop a castle. You never knew which side you were going to wake up to.
You told him about your mother and how she always seemed to be jealous of you. Like there was some aspect about how she raised you that she didn’t like. That it was your fault for taking her instruction to heart and not giving a fuck about what anyone said. You wanted something, you went after it. 
There was no love in your house so you got out when you were 17 and never looked back. Fuck them. You didn’t want to stay in that house anyway. 
Reaching the Fairgrounds, you and Fontaine turned to lighter subjects. How or why you got into dancing. Your favorite dancer was Debbie Allen. You wanted to be her so badly that you studied every move she ever made. That you went for ballet because that was where she started. 
She was able to get into TV but that wasn’t really where you wanted to be. Maybe when you got older and your knees started to rebel. For right now, you just wanted to dance. To be free. 
You held hands with Fontaine, talking and laughing while you pulled each other around the Fairgrounds. You’d only been once, when you were younger, and hadn’t bothered since then. 
There were rides and the sizzling smells of meat that made your mouth water. Desserts, weird food combinations like a Krispy Kreme donut burger, and the sounds of children’s laughter. The ground was littered with wrappers, coupons, and papers. 
Fontaine paid for your play cards, dropping a wad of money that made your eyes bug out. He kissed your cheek and told you to go nuts. Anything you wanted to do or try. There was no limit. You told him that he was crazy. 
“The world and the moon to match, sweetheart,” he whispered against your lips. You grinned and dragged him everywhere. On the ferris wheel, on the spinning ride, and on the zero gravity one until your stomach hurt so badly that you had to sit down. Your head spun painfully and Fontaine rubbed your hand while you giggled about it.
You went into the funhouse with its crazy mirrors. Fontaine only had one request, that you go on the haunted ride with him. You were determined to stay far away from it. You hated the feeling of being scared. He peppered your cheeks with kisses until you relented and got on with him.
You suspected that was his plan all along. To have you clutch onto him for dear life. He chuckled at your theatrics but didn’t make you feel bad.
“Come on, girl, I got you,” he said. He kissed your cheek and pulled you into the safe embrace of his arms. You giggled. You was gon’ have his babies if he kept doing cute shit like this. 
After that ride, you settled on Pink’s for dinner. The smoke from the truck was whipped into the sky by a bitter breeze. You should have brought a jacket. You forgot how fucking cold it got at night out here. 
Without saying a word, Fontaine made you wear his jacket. You attempted to tell him that it was okay, if nothing else yo mama ain’t raise no bitch, but he refused to take it back. “I’m hot anyway,” he said. 
You grinned, looking up at him. He winked at you and ordered you food. You ate and laughed and talked about nothing in particular. Shit you found on TV. Movies you happened across. Books you’ve read. Music you listened to. 
You yawned and leaned your head against him after another round of rides and dessert. A huge funnel cake topped with ice cream and chocolate drizzle. Fontaine had to help you finish it in the end.
“You gon’ have to roll me out of here after all this,” you said, licking your spoon for every wayward swipe of chocolate and smacking your lips with a loud pop. When Fontaine didn’t say anything, you turned towards him. His gaze was fixed on your mouth. 
“Fontaine?” You asked. 
He gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing you closer. He licked the corner of your mouth and you moaned, feeling his hot tongue on your cold face. He hummed in the back of his throat. 
“Delicious,” he said. 
He pulled back with a smirk, rubbed your chin, and pulled back. Your whole body heated. Cascading down your body in waves. You rubbed your thighs together, wetness starting to pool in your panties. 
“We got a little more to spend before we dip. Let’s get you that teddy bear,” he said.
“I was just joking about that,” you said. You gulped around the tension. So thick, it stuck in your throat. 
“I wasn’t,” he said. He stood up from the bench and held out his hand. You took it, hand fitting his like a glove. He threw out the plate you finished up and tucked you into his side while he walked.
In the middle of the grounds, there was a row of carnival games like ring toss and popping balloons. There was also a basketball hoop. Fontaine made a beeline for it, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel. A staff member scanned the play card and loaded up the basketballs for Fontaine.
He tested the balls and soon, started sinking ball after ball. Your mouth dropped open. He could’ve been a basketball player with that lethal game! The staff member told you to pick out a small teddy bear. Fontaine stopped you. 
“One game is a small teddy bear, but three mediums is a big one right?” Fontaine asked.
The staff member, some pimply kid, popped his gum and nodded. Fontaine loaded up more games, winning each and every one until you had three medium ones and exchanged it for a giant fuzzy teddy bear. It was so big! You squealed when the staff member handed it to Fontaine. He chuckled at your reaction. 
You squeezed one of the arms and couldn’t help jumping up and down. You were happy to take the small teddy bear. But the fact that he kept going made your heart soar. “Worth it just to see your face,” he said. You kissed his cheek a hundred times and he finally smiled.
It felt like your world narrowed to that expression on his face. Watching his whole face light up and eyes crinkle. He had a wide smile that took up his whole face. His smile was infectious but you were too dumbstruck to smile back. 
“Come on,” you said. You grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.
“Where we going?” He asked.
“I wanna remember tonight. And you better smile!” He chuckled while you pulled him to the nearest photobooth. You probably should have done this before winning the bear, but fuck it. Tonight had been nothing short of perfect and you wanted to capture this moment the best way you could think of. Like those shows and movies did. With something real. Not just something captured on your phone. 
You wanted it in your hands. You wanted to slide it into a binder so that you could look at it over and over while in class. Daydream about him in between lockers and free time. Glance at him from across the way on the courtyard. Dance with him at Homecoming. He made you feel young, like you were back in high school with your first crush. Fontaine was everything. Absolutely everything. 
The teddy did fit, and you scooted in first. Fontaine chuckled and sat down next to you. He swiped the card and it began to give you instructions. Fontaine was serious the first go around, mean mugging the camera. 
“Forreal this time!” You giggled. 
Fontaine sighed and rubbed his head. “A’ight, a’ight,” he said. He loaded it up once more. He kissed you in the first picture. Then you did a few silly ones. He tickled you for one of them. On the last one, you couldn’t think of what to do next. So you just looked at him. He looked at you. The camera flashed and you saw it reflected in his beautiful eyes. 
You continued staring at each other until the booth buzzed, wanting to know how many copies you wanted. You printed two and finally scooted out. Fontaine scooped up the two cards and you placed your head on his shoulder to look at them. 
“Thank you, Fontaine. For everything,” you said. He just…he had no fucking clue what tonight meant to you.
“The world and the moon to match, sweetheart. You ain’t gotta thank me for this,” he said.
“Yes, I do. And I know just how to thank you,” you said. Your voice turned a little flirty and you lifted your head to look at him. He looked down at you and smirked. 
“Is that right?” He asked, licking his lips. 
“Yup. We better get back to my place before my roommate gets home,” you said. 
Fontaine took your hand and tugged you towards the entrance. You giggled the entire way, feeling giddy and light in a way you hadn’t in a really long time. Fontaine gave you that. Gave you that freeing feeling back. You thought you’d lost it when you accepted that your parents didn’t know how to love you. 
His Cadiallac sped down the open freeway, too late for the out of town mu’fuckas to fuck it up for everyone else. The windows were down and the wind rushed through the car with wild abandon. He drove safely, but fast towards your place, hand on your knee the whole way. 
The tension was back with a vengeance. Like you were both standing on top of a cliff somewhere ready to dive off. Heat pooled along with your arousal between your thighs and you couldn’t stop clenching them. 
Lust. Lust was a powerful thing. Detonating bombs in your core until you were practically drunk on them. Looking forward to them. Until there was only the dirty thoughts running through your mind and the feel of his callused hand on your knee. 
Fontaine managed to find a spot on your street. You were on the wrong side of Stocker, where you had to get to the spot faster than your neighbor. Fontaine got out first and then opened the door for you. He even grabbed the teddy for you so he didn’t have to come back outside for it. 
You pulled him into your crappy apartment that you shared with Kimmy. Considering Rusty was paying for it, it could have been worse. You still owed rent to him and had to clear out when he wanted to ditch his wife and come mess with Kimmy. She was out with her son and likely wouldn’t be back until sometime Sunday. You didn’t tell Fontaine this. You didn’t want him to think that you were plotting on him. 
But you were. You weren’t sure if he was the type to stay after sex, or once he got off, he was already looking for his pants. You wouldn’t really bring him upstairs if it was the latter. You got the feeling that he was a little clingy under that hard facade. 
You only turned on enough light to get across the living room and into your room. You turned on the lamp. Both of you were breathing heavily. Bodies preparing to experience an unparalleled pleasure. 
Fontaine gripped your hips and you giggled, accepting the kiss he laid on you. The ones before had been tame. He had been holding himself back. These were wilder. Crazier. Lips smashing into yours with a desperate plea to get closer and stay closer. 
He pushed his jacket off of your shoulders and you worked on the buttons of his flannel. He helped you pull it off of him and you licked your lips at your first real look at his body. At the tattoos down both sides of his arms. You didn’t have time to catalog them all, but you would eventually. You were going to lick and trace every single one of them.
He was thick in all the right places. A hard stomach and big arms. His stubble tickled your chin while he started to kiss your cheeks and your neck. You were a twisting mess of flailing arms and legs trying to get out of your sandals, his shoes, and his pants while working your way over to the bed.
You pushed him to sit on it and he bounced with a small chuckle. You dropped to your knees, tugging at the zipper of his jeans. “Yo, what you doin’? Ladies first,” he said.
You leaned up and kissed him. “I appreciate that, but I said I wanted to thank you proper,” you said. 
“Sheeit, don’t let me stop you then,” he said. He grinned, gifting you with another rare smile from him. It fueled your desire. 
You tore desperately at his pants and briefs, freeing his long, thick dick. You moaned at the sight of it. The tip already weeped, precum beading. You swiped your tongue at it and Fontaine moaned, rolling his neck. 
You continued to please him, licking him in certain spots trying to learn what turned him on. What made his dick twitch in your hands or his balls jerk. You wrapped your lips around his thick head and sucked him down. 
“Fuck! Just like that!” Fontaine groaned. His hands disappeared into your braids, tugging on it. You groaned around his dick and he hissed in return. You batted your eyes at him and sucked him for real this time. No more teasing. No more games. No more tests.
You drooled on his dick, growing wetter at the act. You could practically feel him inside you already, ruining you for any other man. You used both of your hands to please him where your mouth couldn’t reach. 
Sputtered words and soft commands filled your ears on top of you gulping him down. “Mm, suck that shit down, sweetheart,” he groaned.
That spurred you on, that you were doing a good job. You gripped his thighs and leaned up to take more of him. “Gah damn,” he said and licked his lips. 
You took him in deeper, as far as you were able without using your hands. You breathed where you could. The only thing that mattered was letting him know what this night meant to you. What he meant to you. 
You slurped on his dick, letting the spit lube up more of his dick for you to slide on him. His moans grew louder, fingers clutching your braids harder. “I’m finna bust,” he groaned.
You kept going. As if that was supposed to stop you? That was the goal! You wanted him to bust. You wanted to empty his balls into your mouth. You wanted to taste every ounce of his cum in the back of your throat.
He gasped and he was unleashing himself inside you, filling your mouth with him. You swallowed him down and moaned, arousal leaking from you. Pussy throbbing. 
Fontaine grabbed his dick and pulled him from your mouth, tapping the head against your lips. You kissed him and he smirked. “You a bad one, ain’t you?” He asked.
You shook your head. “Oh? You a good girl?” He asked.
You nodded. He hummed, the low vibration sending signals down to your pussy. “Good girls get rewards don’t they?” 
You nodded, too struck dumb by him to say anything else. What was there to say? If you opened your mouth, all kinds of sticky, gooey, lovey dovey shit would fall out and you’d never been good at that. 
Fontaine stood up and helped you to stand, he kissed you, not caring that he just finished in your mouth. You loved a nasty nigga. He unzipped your dress and kissed your shoulders while it fell from your body.
He unhooked your strapless bra, freeing your titties and licking his lips at the look of you. “Like two little chocolate kisses for me,” he said. His lips descended on them, suckling each one and learning the shape and feel of them in his mouth. 
His hands worked your panties off, pushing them off your legs. He kissed on your chest as he laid you down and now it was his turn to get on his knees. His turn to push his head between your legs and suckle his way past your pussy lips. 
“Oh fuck!” You moaned. His tongue was a gift from the gods. Long and big, he flattened it against your pussy and moved his head in circles. Your breaths shuddered and your body twisted, legs shaking. 
He pulled the orgasm from you like it was his divine right and you screamed out, lungs burning with the effort. Fontaine kissed your thighs and your belly, wiping your essence off on you.
“Let me taste,” you begged. Fontaine chuckled and climbed up your body and kissed you, letting you taste just how wild he made you. You scratched up and down his chest and back, pulling him closer. 
“Let me feed you this dick,” he said.
“Feed it to me, baby,” you moaned.
He gifted you with another grin. Wide smile and crinkly eyes that you wanted to swim in. He pushed his jeans completely off and next went his black tank. He didn’t have any tattoos across his spacious chest and you ran your hands over him, learning every mole or scratch on him. 
He had a faint scar across his shoulder and you traced it with your thumb. You didn’t have time to ask him about it before his dick was pushing at your entrance.
You hissed and pushed on his chest. You were sure you were wet enough, but he was still massive. “Slow! Slow!” You cried.
He tilted his head and moved his hips, pushing deeper into you. Once the tip was in, he shoved all the way in with one hard thrust. You gasped, your mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as he stretched you out with a bite of pain.
You slapped at his shoulder. “I said slow!” 
He chuckled and kissed you, trying to ease the sting. “I can’t help it. You so fuckin’ wet. I need you,” he moaned. He fed you long, deep strokes touching a deep, sweet place inside of you that might’ve been your soul. Like he wanted to write his name in the very fabric of you and never lose you. 
You gasped as he delivered these strokes, hissing when he hit that deep spot again and again. Your legs began to shake in earnest. “Mhm, don’t hold it, sweetheart. Let that shit go and lemme feel it.”
“Fon-tai–” you moaned.
“Shhh, I know you wanna call my name. I know you do. But all you gotta do is focus on that nut. Focus on my voice,” he asked.
He stretched you perfectly. And from how much arousal there was, it was staining your sheets. You were sliding up and down on his dick now, titties flapping from the strength of his strokes. 
He moaned, watching the expressions play out over your face. He cupped one of your titties, pushing down to hold you in place while he fucked you. “Mhm, doing so good, sweetheart. So good, focusing on you. Focusing on what I’m giving you.”
“Oh god, oh god,” you moaned, eyes rolling back in your head.
“Shit, just like that baby. Grip it just like that,” he moaned. 
Your cries turned wild, keening, and loud while you gripped onto him and shook and twitched through your orgasm. He hummed while you did so. Satisfied with himself. 
“You-you didn’t…” 
“I know, turn over,” he said. His deep voice let you know that he wasn’t playing. Somehow, you found the strength to flip over. He smacked your ass, watching it jiggle.
He entered you once more and you cried out. You would never get used to his size. Never get used to him slamming and stroking inside of you. 
“Fuck!” You moaned. 
“Yeah, I know,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. Hear how he knew exactly what you needed.
He gripped big chunks of your ass and used it like handles to slam you down on his dick, faster, and harder. Your elbows ached from trying to brace yourself against him. You slammed back, giving as much as you were taking.
“Ouue, that’s my good girl. You show me what you got,” he encouraged.
You continued to throw it back, craning your neck in time to see him throw his head back, surrendering to your pussy. It was enough to make you cry out, back bowing to another powerful, earth-shattering, world-altering orgasm. 
“Take that shit, baby,” he moaned and then finally climaxed, pumping you full of his delicious cum. 
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, I need it, baby,” you moaned. 
“I know you do,” he grunted as his dick stopped pulsing. His cum leaked out of you as he pulled out. He spread your ass cheeks to watch. He slapped your ass when you were sure no more would come out. You were thoroughly stuffed like a twinkie. 
Fontaine left the room and you collapsed forward onto the bed, strength leaving you. A bit of nervousness crept in its place though. You wanted to ask him to stay. You wanted to roll over and be all sexy and enticing. As much game as you talked, sometimes you had moments where you couldn’t make your mouth move. 
Fontaine came back into the room with a warm rag to clean you off. You moaned and he rubbed your ass as he cleaned off your thighs as well. You sluggishly rolled over and smiled at him.
“You’re so damn cute,” he said. 
“You are,” you said and smiled.
“When yo roommate getting home?” He asked. 
You shrugged and looked away from him. “Um, I think she said she doing something this weekend,” you said. 
“So you gon’ be home alone?” He asked.
You shrugged again and played with the edge of a pillow. “Yeah, I think so.” 
The bed dipped as Fontaine sat down on it. He grabbed your chin and made you look at him. You didn’t want to. You tried to fight him. But he only smirked and held on. You looked at him and he tilted his head.
“Do you want me to stay, sweetheart?” He asked.
“Only if you want to,” you said.
He shook his head and pecked your lips. “Be a good girl for me and tell me you want me to stay,” he said.
He smiled and you rolled your eyes. He got on your damn nerves. But you couldn’t quit him. 
“I want you to stay, please.”
He nodded and kissed you. Then he pulled you further onto the bed and tucked you under the covers. He defied any expectation you had of his gender. He really was killing it for anyone else. 
Though, as sweet as he was being, you knew that there would never be anyone else.
Me and you. 
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You stopped here and wiped a runaway tear sliding down your cheek. You sniffled. You were both a couple of fools. Two fools in love. In a love that blinded you to anything else.
You should have told him to go. Should have told him that one night was all you could have. Even thinking that, your chest seized like your heart was being compressed under a massive weight. 
There was no you without Fontaine. And there was no Fontaine without you, you hoped.
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Check out the Tyrone masterlist if you need more in your life! The Secret Tyrone Files
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sharoo · 22 days
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Why there can only be one - a Limbus Theory
Massive Canto 6.2 spoilers
So... Canto 6.2, amirite?
After I stopped having a screaming fit over voice chat and got myself to actually sit down and mull things over, my mind kept coming back to the ending of this part's final fight against Heathcliff(?).
As they have done numerous times already, Projmoon brings in our relevant Sinner's personal E.G.O. in the most emotionally high moment creating an iconic scene.
But... wait a minute.
The E.G.O. does not make sense.
Like, think about it. Since Limbus started, people have been speculating about what's in the Bodysack, one of the biggest theories being Cathy's corpse. But our Heathcliff never had his revenge quest. He hasn't killed anyone from the Earnshaws or the Edgars until Hindley distorted!
So why the heck does he have a sack of bodies of (presumably) his enemies. And why is the final attack of Heathcliff(?)'s fight in the cemetery?
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Heath wasn't there when Cathy died. He didn't go to her grave. He did not swear revenge on everyone and anyone who caused him and her suffering.
Not yet.
But... we do see someone who did, don't we? Dear old "Matt".
He is the book accurate Heathcliff. He's stood vigil while Cathy lay dying, he followed suit by destroying everyone and everything of the Earnshaws and the Edgars, and now he's on a self-destructive suicide quest of killing every last version of himself for causing Cathy's death.
The E.G.O. fits him much more than it does our Heathcliff, doesn't it?
So... why does Heathcliff have it?
This was the beginning of a rabbit hole (pun intended). Let me state plainly my point and then elaborate:
My theory is that our Heathcliff has been suffering from "identity bleed-through" since perhaps even before joining Limbus Companny, all due to the existence of "Matt" in the same universe as him.
"Matt" is outright called an Identity, meaning he's an alternate reality version of Heathcliff, a more book accurate version, as I remarked earlier.
He presumably finished his revenge quest until he was the last one left, but then he discovered, by some means, that alternate realities exist and that he can access them.
We do not know who showed him that technology or for what purpose, but regardless of those factors, that must've been the breaking point at which self-destruction became a hunt.
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He says he's seen Hindley die multiple times, multiple ways.
He's a reality hopper, using his access to this technology (supplied to him by we don't know who) to play this act out again and again, until he's had his revenge.
How would this affect our Heathcliff, tho?
Let's consider the ImplicationsTM.
Wehave known since Selva Oscura how Identities work - you borrow a person's alternate reality self for a little while, letting them overwrite memories and take over the body. Faust even calls it a transformation:
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But notice how she specifies something rather important: they have a system to ensure the Sinners can use Identities safely. That they, quote, don't lose control over their own existence.
And even this system can be faulty, as Dante remarks in their note:
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Faust knows this process is risky, that the lines can easily blur, and we know just how much damage this can cause because Leviathan outright shows us the psychological and physical toll this process can have on a person.
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We even see the same thing in Canto 6 itself, with the hundred glass containers filled with kidnapped people forced to experience numerous realities at once.
Some of them even turn into Peccatula because of it, and we fight those newly made monsters.
So experiencing other realities alone can harm you, change you without even realising it.
What would happen, then, if more than one identity existed in the same reality at the same time?
My theory hinges on the idea that these identities would not just count as two separate people, that is true. But let's go with that train of thought. It is just as likely an outcome (and it produces an interesting story!), and between all the magic-esque technology and the Light, it's possible that something would get messed up.
Two people where there is meant to be one, two very different lives, and reality cannot really allow that separation. Things would bleed through, they'd get all blurry and you wouldn't even know where the difference is.
We have Matt-cliff, an Identity who has travelled at least a few universes, in each carrying out a scheme to kill everyone who hurt Cathy, including that reality's Heathcliff. In the books, it takes him his entire adulthood to carry out his plans. He's persistent, and thorough. In Limbus, he's had to arrive, kidnap several dozens of people (maybe with the help of the Ring, since they seem to be funding all of this research), re-establish the Wild Rabbits, get Hindley's trust, get hired, and scheme this reality's revenge plot.
That would have taken weeks if not months of prepwork. You don't just snap your fingers and have it all done.
I posit that Matt has been a factor for the past several months that Heath has spent, in universe, as part of Limbus company, if not longer. Throughout this time, their shared existence in this reality has caused their experiences, memories, and emotions to mix. And that isn't just my conjecture, we see that Heathcliff is indeed experiencing alternate universe memories we he starts to Distort and we (and Dante) see him see Mattcliff's grief.
[Thank you to my buddy @firestorm09890 for pointing this out to help me solidify this theory]
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The way I see it, Bodysack is that.
A memory and an emotion of a reality travelling bloodhound imprinting itself on Heathcliff. It was foreshadowing his existence, it was staring us in the face that something is not right. The influence of another self can lead a person to corrupt and Heath had a slow trickle of it for nearly a year.
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So... maybe it wasn't as surprising that he is our first Distorted Sinner.
I can't really see how it'd make sense in universe Heath has it otherwise, and I know Projmoon to be meticulous planners so I doubt this is an oversight on their part.
Guess we'll have to see next Thursday when 6.3 comes out and breaks me into tiny bits.
Anyway thanks for coming here to read this longass post.
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petrichorca · 27 days
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Hello, I am slowly figuring out how to use tumblr effectively. I thought I'd give an update on fics I've written in 2024, but keep forgetting to talk about here in a meaningful way.
As We Go Hand in Hand (explicit, gentlebeard, 7100 words) follows Ed as he processes the past few months while living on the island with Stede, massively in love but struggling with himself. I wrote it while feeling a lot of delayed grief around the (confirmed) s2 cancellation, and while it's sad at points it's also quite romantic I think. I really love this story.
Behind Closed Eyes All I See is You (explicit, gentlebeard, 5300 words) is a smutty PWP my dear friend @chaoticturtleturtle invited me to write with her. Stede lets Ed take the lead in a scene with some sensory deprivation, pwp, and aftercare.
like sugar to my heart (mature, gentlebeard, 4200 words) is a silly fic I wrote for my Animorphs OFMD AU co-writer as a birthday gift. Our blue four-legged four-eyed mouthless alien Stedeth gets foiled by a vending machine (based on the tumblr art of the giraffe centaur), and Ed consoles him.
like a bird (teen, gentlebeard, 3700 words) with @ghostalservice gives some backstory about Stedeth's life prior to the events of our 177k fic and features some very cute art of Mary and Stede's children (as Andalites, of course) by @theogem
Stede’s Cursed Red Suit as a Metaphor for Grief and Moving On (teen, stede + izzy, 1717 words) explores the squishy time of season 2, episode 5, and the dynamic between Stede and Izzy in season 2 overall. I am also obsessed with how Stede acts in the cursed suit. I find their s2 relationship really interesting so this is me looking a bit at that via a missing scene starting with Stede yelling OH FUCK OFF.
Calypso’s Dawn (explicit, gentlebeard, 1800 words) centers around how Ed made his boyfriend blush the morning after Calypso's birthday and how Ed feels about it. I love this fic. I've been trying to challenge myself to write more self-contained, shorter stories and this one turned out really well imo.
Life as a Series of Forward Rolls (teen, gentlebeard, 9900 words) features Stede running into his teenhood crush, the gold medalist in men's gymnastics from the 1996 Olympics. This fic also centers around a Barbie doll in Ed Teach's likeness, which @swashbuckling-sweethearts made an INCREDIBLE art of (embedded at the end of the story), inspired by my own 1996 Olympics Barbie. Silly and light modern AU!
Did you mean to do that? (teen, gentlebeard, 700 words) explores Stede's grief around Ed dying, even when he knows Ed is alive. I had no idea I would be so interested in writing missing scenes, but long conversations with friends have really ignited me in exploring these. (The length - I was trying to channel @brigdh, whose ability to write devastatingly brilliant drabbles inspires me, and I'm pleased with this one!)
Perfectly Ordinary Tuesday (mature, gentlebeard, 4900 words) with @ferventrabbit follows Stede and Ed deciding to get married on a perfectly ordinary Tuesday, and drag their inn guest Dave along for the ride. We split up writing the vows, and I balled my eyes out writing mine and then reading em's. This story is fluffy and fun, and it was a great way to start 2024. :)
What's next: I'm working on or noodling a lot of projects, solo and with different collaborators. Imminently, I've got a fic with @veeagainsttheday coming for AUpril on April 1st. Hoping to get something else out in April for @ofmdjanuaury's AUpril 2024 event, which I highly encourage folks to check out - it's for all sorts of creators!
@ghostalservice and I continue to think about our blue alien Stede and his human boyfriend Ed. Wanna Fly Away was such an important project to me while we were writing, and it's become even more special as folks find it. WFA now has art embedded in most of the 15 chapters, so if you haven't seen those check it out. More to come in that space.
Where was I going with this? Well, I suppose I want to say I'm still here. OFMD changed my life, and the OFMD fandom community is deeply important to me. I still hold out hope for a third season, or a follow-up that brings us more closure, but no matter what I'm still thinking about our pirates and will for a long time. If you read this far, thanks for being part of my community. <3
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deathmetalunicorn1 · 4 months
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Hello! First of all, Merry Christmas and New Year, I wish you only the best and much prosperity 💫
And now with the idea, what do you think of a Daenerys Targaryen-style reader? An orphan from an overthrown dynasty who, when her husband dies, somehow manages to bring three dragons to life. The difference is that she ascended to Valhalla and her dragons (who are like her children) go with her and she meets (separately) with:
- Hades
- Poseidon
- Qin Shi Huang
Since they are kings and she was the one who restored their dynasty even after dying (as a detail, inc3st was not practiced in her family, they could tame dragons by magic) it would be interesting to see how the dragons carefully observe the men so that they do not overdo it with their mother (Oh how about Cerberus and the dragons know each other! Aww that would be cute) plus it would be funny because Zeus literally has one as a chair.
Very long but it's the idea haha, I hope you want to do it, it would be my birthday gift since I'm celebrating my birthday these days, I admired you and happy holidays!
Hello my dear one and happy birthday! I wish you a happy one and many more! I know who this character is but that’s about the extent of it (I never watched Game of Thrones- please don’t hate me) but with what you given me I will do my best! I hope you like it!
-With death came new life, just with the passing of the man you loved- the man you called your husband, you welcomed new life, managing to hatch three baby dragons, ones that saw you as their mother.
-You were an orphan from a once powerful dynasty, that was overthrown and you were taken by your husband in a chance to have your life spared, and instead of being a prisoner, you were treated as an equal by him, and you grew to love him just as he loved you.
-That’s why it hurt so much when he passed, your grief inconsolable, and the gift he had given you, three dragon eggs, that were centuries old, that never hatched, felt your tears as you wept over them, and from your tears, came your babies, your dragons.
-You became known as the Mother of Dragons, and your power and fame grew as you took over your husband’s dynasty after proving yourself worthy.
-You traveled all over the world, taking dynasties and empires from cruel leaders, ones who only saw others as steppingstones, while you saw them as equals, bringing empires back from the brink.
-You passed with your dragons by your sides, after someone assassinated you, wanting your power, and your dragons, taking their own revenge, killed the assassin and razed your empire to the ground, so none could have it.
-Your babies came with you to Valhalla, ascending alongside you as they chose to perish in the fires that they started, dying alongside you, not willing to be apart from their mother.
-You were regarded as a queen in Valhalla, many respecting you, especially other leaders, and seeing your dragons cemented that you were indeed very powerful, as you could control them with ease, but that made sense, since you were their mother.
-There were so many other kings and rulers in Valhalla, one’s that you had learned about in history, as well as gods who were considered kings, like Poseidon and Hades, ruling over the seas and the underworld, respectively.
-There was a vast difference between the rulers, like how they ruled, what part of the world or the heavens they came from, ages, powers, looks- there were so many, and now you were a part of that number.
-Hades- He met you through Cerberus, after your babies saw the giant hound and went to say hello, playing with him, and Cerberus’ barks were what alerted Hades to the ‘intruders’. He was surprised to see three young dragons playing with his watchdog, but his shock grew, seeing you across the way, looking so ethereal, smiling up at the dragons and the hound. When he came over, you bowed your head politely, introducing yourself and he bowed back, returning it and you were surprised to meet the ruler of the underworld. Hades was polite and kind to you, knowing your history and knowing your strength, he knew that you were very powerful and were not to be underestimated by any means. Hades sat with you, talking about random things, finding himself attracted to you, and your babies were watching this closely, not sure of this unknown man being so close to their mama. It wasn’t until Hades got a bit closer that your youngest came over, wedging himself between the two of you and cuddling you close, sending a glare to Hades, challenging him. Hades couldn’t help but laugh while you playfully scolded your baby, telling him off for being so rude.  
-Poseidon- He wasn’t sure of what to make of the three dragons playing in the ocean by the shoreline, splashing around, having fun, but he heard the melodious sound of laughter, and his eyes were drawn to you. You were a vision of loveliness, smiling so brightly as you held your skirts up in the water, splashing around with your babies, giggling at their antics. At his approach your babies quickly went into defense mode, eyes locked on him as they all leapt in front of you, protecting you. You were quick to calm them, approaching, touching their heads gently, “It’s all right little ones, go back to playing.” You bowed your head to him, apologizing on behalf of your children. You were… unusual, for a human, you were respectful to him, but he could sense your power- you were a powerful warrior, and your command over your dragons was impressive, as Poseidon introduced himself to you and you did the same. Your babies were cautious with this unknown man but did nothing other than kept an eye on him as the two of you sat in the sand, after Poseidon asked to speak with you, wanting to know more about you- you intrigued him, and it wasn’t often another, especially a human, would intrigue him.
-QSH- He was one of the first people you met in Valhalla, after he had learned of not only your death but your ascension. You had not been expecting this unknown man to rush at you and sweep you into his arms, hugging you close while you squealed in surprise. Your babies did nothing, as they could sense that this person, although a bit odd, wasn’t going to hurt you- he was powerful and could be dangerous, but he wasn’t doing anything to harm you. Your face was bright red, not used to such affections as he pulled back before he kneeled before you, bowing his head, “Thank you Y/N- for saving my empire!” when he introduced himself to you, everything made sense, as you had thrown those in power out on their asses in his empire and you brought it back to its former glory and QSH was extremely thankful, as he had seen how many people you had saved. He was rather affectionate with you, something you weren’t used to from anyone other than your husband, but you soon realized what your babies had- that this was a good person. Your babies, however, didn’t like how close he was getting, and they would make sure to hang on you, nipping at him if he got too close, telling him to mind your space, being protective of you, which you thought was cute. QSH was going to work hard to win them over!
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gyu-effect · 1 year
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(tryna do) what lovers do || y.jh
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"WE ARE JUST TRYNA DO WHAT LOVERS DO”
PAIRING || Jeonghan x Female Reader
GENRES || Fake Dating AU, College AU, Humour, Fluff, Friends To Lovers AU, Rich Kids AU
SUMMARY || When you had roped Jeonghan into your idea of being a ‘pretend’ couple, you did not expect the lie to grow this big. What was supposed to be a one day thing soon became a rather frequent occurrence. And the gravity of the situation did not really hit you until your parents were requesting an audience with your new ‘boyfriend’. Will the two of you be able to keep your act till then?
Or, in which, you keep promising yourself that this would be the last day you pretend to have feelings for Yoon Jeonghan.
SERIES MASTERLIST || teen, age
MUSIC || What Lover Do by Maroon 5 and SZA
WARNINGS || Joshua being a menace to the society, one mention of threesome as a joke (I really tried to keep it sfw but this was inevitable really sorry), drunk Jeonghan, a make out scene, probably very wrong elite party etiquettes (don’t come at me pls), a bit of swearing
WORD COUNT || 15k
A/N || As much as I was dying to write this fic, a lot of times I had to stop it because the flow was so bad. I hope it doesn’t affect the outcome so do tell me what you guys think about it! I would love to hear all of your opinions about it! Also for better understanding, Jeonghan’ suit was the one he wore for Don’t Lie Series Pt.2!
TAGLIST || @fragmentof-indifference @millielovescheol @jkbabiey @kokoiinuts @alyssng​ @cecedrake2217 @dr3aluv5 @romeosbreastmilk @y00nzin0      [thank you for being interested! if you wanted to be added to the series taglist or my general taglist, send me an ask!]
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“Oh my god, why am I even here?” You sobbed to yourself, as you frantically turned the pages of the thick textbook, searching desperately for anything that could help you in your project. Despite being in the library for the past four hours, you had managed to write only two pages of your five page essay. You cursed yourself mentally for picking such a difficult topic in an attempt to be different from others.
“To get your degree and a job that will secure your future?” Seungkwan replied, as though he hadn’t been complaining about his own work a minute ago.
“Thanks. I wasn’t really sure before why I applied for college but now I definitely am.” You muttered, squeezing your eyes shut as you closed your laptop. As the semester was approaching the end, all the project deadlines had clogged up your calendar and you were pathetically struggling to finish everything on time. 
“You did not ask yourself this question when you were at the party yesterday.” He reminded you, causing you to open your eyes and glare at him. 
“I’ve been to a maximum of three parties throughout this entire semester minus our initiation party. How much more do you want me to quit? If I don’t let out my stress in some way or the other I’m going to combust.”
“Lies. You hate these parties and your stress busting mechanism is to go shopping with Kim Yeri.”
You raised your hands in defeat, but still stuck out your tongue at your best friend. Just because he was right didn’t mean you couldn’t complain and whine to him. 
“Speaking of parties,” he continued after shutting his laptop and looking at you, “What are you going to do about the one next week?”
You stared at him.
“Next week? What party?”
“Min Seolah’s party? She sent an invitation to you?” 
“Ah,” you said, vaguely remembering something in your inbox which you might have deleted out of anger at your pending work. “I just won’t go. Where’s it taking place? Her apartment?”
Now it was Seungkwan’s turn to stare at you.
“You didn’t go through the invitation did you?” He glared at you when you smiled sheepishly at him. “It’s an elite party. And you are expected to have an escort. In more polite terms, a date.” 
You felt your smile dip as soon as you heard the word ‘elite’. You absolutely hated these formal parties. More than boring, they were painful beyond words and talking with all the powerful delegates who were usually present there always exhausted you mentally. 
“Can’t I- can’t we excuse ourselves?”
“Our parents will be there.”
That line hit you like a truck and you finally felt the realisation sink in. “Oh my god. Oh my god, Seungkwan. I-I need to pick a dress! And shoes! And-And an escort! Where the hell am I supposed to get a date?” Even Seungkwan didn’t seem to have an answer for this. You continued your rambling as the panic finally settled in properly. “Oh god. How does one, who had next to zero social interactions outside her friend circle, manage to find a date in less than a week? And how are you so calm about this? Do you want to pretend to be each other’s escorts? Everyone knows there’s nothing between us anyways.”
“Er, about that.” Seungkwan began, awkwardly scratching his neck. “I already have a date.”
For the second time that day, Boo Seungkwan had dropped another bomb on you. You closed your mouth that had been hanging open and edged your chair closer to his suspiciously.
“Wait, what? When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me anything?”
“It happened just right before I came into the library!” He began, clearly flustered as he was avoiding your gaze and aimlessly flipping the pages of the book in front of him (it was actually your book, a subject he didn’t even have). “Sowon just- just randomly asked whether I wanted to go with her because she thought I was cool and I was so taken aback, I said yes without even thinking-”
“Is that all it takes to ask you out? Just tell you that you are cool?” You asked, leaning back and grinning at your furiously blushing best friend. You had seen Seungkwan embarrassed (and had sometimes even been the cause of it), but to see him this shy because of some girl from economics seemed worthy to make fun of. In the back of your mind, you made a mental note to tell this to Chan. 
“Are you worried about that? Shouldn’t you be worried about your lack of date, instead?” 
“Yeah…But I’ve got to finish this assignment before.” You always had your priorities right, and getting a degree was definitely one of them. “And I’m hungry.”
“It’s almost lunch time. Want to grab something from the canteen?” Seungkwan asked, checking his watch. You nodded and both of you packed up your things, walking out into the sunlight after what felt like an eternity of being in the dark library. 
No sooner had you stepped out of the threshold, you felt a gush of wind from behind you that nearly knocked you over, but Seungkwan wasn’t that lucky. He stumbled onto the ground as that gush of wind (now identified as Kwon Soonyoung) grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up. Or rather yanked him up.
“Hey! Do you want to die?” Seungkwan yelled, as you blinked and tried to process what had just happened. Then feeling a smile tug at the corner of your lips at the sight of Soonyoung nervously apologising to Seungkwan, you gently patted the latter’s back.
“Are you okay?” You asked, his neck visibly red at the sudden tugging of his shirt collar. 
“I highly doubt you should be smiling while asking me that?”
“I- okay I’m sorry.” By now you were grinning. “Drink some water, you should be fine. And Soonyoung, why the hell did you try to knock us out?”
“I wasn’t trying to! I just wanted to surprise Seungkwan from behind but I guess I ran a bit too fast.”
“A bit?” Seungkwan was still massaging his neck. “I bet you would have told that excuse to the judges for attempted murder after getting arrested because my head got dislocated from my spine.”
“Anyways, what do you think they are serving us for lunch?” Soonyoung asked, hastily changing the subject.
Before you or Seungkwan could reply, all of a sudden you realised you had left your jacket on the chair in the library. “Uh, guys I’ll catch up with you in the mess? I left my jacket behind.”
“You don’t want us to wait for you?” Seungkwan asked but you shook your head in negative.
“It’s fine. But don’t forget to save me a seat or else I’ll steal all your tiger plushies Soonyoung.”
Soonyoung faked a look of horror, pulling Seungkwan and breaking into a run. This earned an eye roll from Seungkwan as he waved you goodbye. Giggling at their retreating figure you went back inside the library. Thankfully, it was still there and slipping into it, you quickly walked out again. 
This time when you walked out, you found yourself staring at the couple underneath the willow tree near the library. It was still full of leaves despite it being almost autumn. It was almost cute to see the couple until you remembered your own position; you had to find a date before the week ended.
The sun glared on you and you instinctively took a step back, immediately colliding with someone. The two of you let out an ‘ah!’ as you stumbled back more before you felt the person’s hands on your shoulder, stabilising you.
“I’m so sorry!” You gushed, turning back to look at the person. You found yourself looking up at Yoon Jeonghan’s equally surprised face as he helped you up. “Jeonghan, shit, I’m so sorry. I should have looked.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Are you okay? Don’t walk backwards like that, you might get hurt. Unless, you have Mad-Eye Moody's eyes.” He joked casually and you smiled sheepishly at him. 
Jeonghan was a good friend of yours; he was in your close friends circle and you thoroughly enjoyed his presence (as long as you weren’t the one getting pranked). He also happened to be smart and handsome, a plus point which made him a campus heartthrob. As you took in his appearance, you noticed he had grown out his hair a bit. A gentle wind blew against the two of you and his hair ruffled slightly, sunlight catching his face as he grinned at you.
And then, it struck you.
“What? What’s wrong?” He asked, as you stared at him, your mouth slightly open. “Don’t tell me there’s sauce on my face and Joshua didn’t tell me about it.”
That snapped you back to the present and you shook your head. “Er, no. Um, Jeonghan?” 
“Yeah?”
You knew for sure he had been invited to the same upscale party as you, but you had to make sure before asking him.
“You don’t have a significant other, do you? Or maybe a crush?”
Now it was time for him to stare at you.
“Uh…no? Where is this coming from?”
“Then do you want to date me?”
Jeonghan stared at you for a good few seconds, as though trying to find out if you were joking. Immediately you realised how sudden you sounded and quickly corrected yourself, while grabbing his arm to calm him down. “I mean, would you like to be my escort for Min Seolha’s party? That is, if you still don’t have anyone?”
“Oh.” Jeonghan laughed awkwardly, before patting your hand. “But you know, you are supposed to get a potential partner as your escort. I mean…”
His voice trailed off and you dropped your hand, feeling slightly embarrassed. You were a bit disappointed, but you could understand where he was coming from and you definitely did not want to pressurise him.
“Ah, of course I understand! Forget I asked. It’s just that, I don’t have anyone in my mind right now so I thought if anyone who was comfortable with me was willing to go-”
“I’m not uncomfortable with you!” He exclaimed, grabbing your hand. “I just- I just thought maybe you would want to go with someone you like. Or…yeah, damn. You are right. Even I don’t have anyone in mind and I definitely can’t find anyone in a week.”
“If it makes you too uncomfortable going with a friend, we can pretend to be a couple.”
The words were out of your mouth before you even thought about it but it was too late to take it back. Jeonghan looked taken aback and you were going to apologise to him once more but instead he nodded at your plan. 
“Oh yeah, that sounds like a good idea. It won’t even raise any odd questions.” 
You didn’t expect Jeonghan to agree to your plan so quickly, let alone the last part so all you could was a flustered laugh. This earned a soft smile from him as he asked you, “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” You lied. “Don’t tell me later on it’s a prank, okay?”
His smile fell a little as he pouted at you, immediately causing you to wince at your words. “Hey, just because I cheat at games doesn’t mean I play with people’s emotions.” 
“I know, I know. I was just joking. You are an angel, Jeonghan.” It was true though. He was a very sweet friend and always took care of those around him. In fact at get-togethers, he was always the one who made sure everyone had enough food. He helped with notes or anything related to studies. You did know that he was a really nice person, except when he was trying to be a menace to the society.
“By the way, do we have any rules or something?” He asked.
“Rules?”
“We need to make this a little believable right? Or else people are going to easily realise that we just agreed to be each other's date because we couldn’t find anyone and honestly, that’s a bit embarrassing.” 
“Yeah.” You scratched your neck, not having thought this far. What he was saying was true, if this plan backfired you both could become a laughing stock and the last thing you need in your already full plate was another lecture from your parents.” “Yeah, I think we do.” 
“Then do you want to have lunch in my room?”
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“It’s a good thing you got the dorm closest to the library.” You said sarcastically, as you entered his room and finally caught your breath. You collapsed onto his sofa, mentally cursing the building planner for putting the library near the entrance of the campus and some of the boys’ dormitories at the other end. Jeonghan flopped down beside you, equally out of breath despite doing this for quite some time now. 
“Hey, it could have been worse. I could have got an apartment outside the campus and who knows, we might have still been travelling by bus just to get to my place.”
“That’s true.” You grumbled. “But in that case, we would have just gone to my dorm.” 
“I’ll need a special pass to enter the girls’ dorm.” He groaned. “I wish our college wasn’t so strict for first years. Anyways, we should-”
“Hey, have you seen my shampoo?”
A new voice came into the living room and you turned towards it, just to find yourself staring at a half-naked Hong Joshua, standing in front of the bedroom door with just a towel around his torso. You felt your cheek burn as you took in his dripping torso, muscles flexing with almost the slightest movement. At first he hadn’t noticed you but then his eyes locked with yours, causing you to realise what you were doing.
But before you could even look away, you felt Jeonghan’s hands practically slam into your face, covering your eyes from the (amazing) sight you were staring at.
“Hey!” Jeonghan yelped, his voice an octave higher as he too sounded flustered by this. “Why did you come out without checking if anyone was even there? You heard her voice right?”
“I-I- I did not expect-” Joshua stammered and you interrupted him.
“I’m sorry!” You squeaked, still recovering. “I’m sorry that I looked!”
“Uh, no. I shouldn’t have- I should- Yeah, I should just go. Catch up with you guys later!”
Once you heard the bedroom door slam shut, Jeonghan removed his hand from your eyes. You looked at him and he still seemed shocked, and even a bit embarrassed.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He muttered, clearing his throat as he poured out a cup of water for you. You took the cup from his hand with a small thank you, glad that you had something to cool yourself down.
“No. I’m sorry. I should have immediately looked away.”
“It was sudden.” Jeonghan said, as though understanding you completely. He still seemed unable to meet your eyes, and was busy rearranging the coasters kept on the coffee table in front of you, despite them being already arranged properly. Somehow looking at the Yoon Jeonghan like this set off the devilish side inside you. 
“Does Joshua work out everyday?” You asked casually.
“He does. Not only does he have a gym membership, he also has some stuff in his room.” Jeonghan replied, without missing a beat. He seemed to have regained his composure because he smiled at you and asked, “Why? having second thoughts about me and want to go for Joshua?”
“What?” You spluttered over your water, your time to be taken aback. “I- I would never-”
“Relax, I’m just joking. If you are with him, your ears might drop because of him singing ‘Sunday morning, rain is falling’. Who knows, he probably went back to get showered on because it’s not raining today. It is Sunday, after all.”
You stared at him, trying to make which part was real and which wasn’t. Even though his smile was genuine, you had fallen for his tricks quite a few times and you knew better not to trust that angelic smile. But having a proper one on one conversation with him made you realise how convincing he was.
“Er, let’s go back to why I came here. I think we should make some boundaries so that neither of us are uncomfortable with each other and also some points which might convince people we are dating.”
“Right.” Jeonghan said, magically conjuring up a paper and pen from somewhere. “So first of all, I think we should decide on pet names.”
You paused, trying to think of something plausible for him. For some reason, the very thought of having to call him baby or sweetheart in public was making you cringe (and you were sure he would too) so you thought of something that he won't mind being called and at the same time showed your closeness.
Before you could tell him your thoughts, the bedroom door opened once again and Joshua walked out (this time fully clothed and dry). He pulled a chair and sat himself opposite to both of you, giving you an awkward smile.
“Let me apologise again. I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable or something.” He said. You shook your head, before giving him your apology too.
“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have stared.” Joshua nodded as though accepting your apology and then pointed at the paper in Jeonghan’s hand. “What are you both up to?”
“We are dating.”
“We are pretending to be a couple”
The two of you said it at the same time, and you felt dumb. You knew Jeonghan and Joshua were best friends but you didn’t expect Jeonghan to tell him this immediately. Letting out an awkward laughter at Joshua, you turned towards Jeonghan who was looking at you surprised.
“I’m sorry, was I not supposed to tell this?” He asked and you quietly grumbled. It wasn’t that you weren’t going to tell Seungkwan either, but you thought maybe it would be after you and Jeonghan had finalised everything and you had sorted your thoughts.
“Er, it’s fine.” You said hastily as Joshua got up to leave. “I think it’s better if you could help us too.” He smiled and sat down, looking excited as though the three of you were planning to pull the greatest prank of all time.
“Joshua’s an expert in this department.” Jeonghan said, and you turned to look at him. His eyes were practically shining as he smiled innocently at his roommate. Looking at him like this, you felt a smile tug at the corner of your lips, something infectious about his childishness.
“What do you mean?”
“He’s just exaggerating.” Joshua said, rolling his eyes. “You know how to flirt as much as I do.”
“Then what do you suggest I should call Y/N?”
“To be honest, I think it would be better if you just call her by her name.” Joshua said, actually thinking hard about it. “Your voice kind of goes soft when you are talking to your loved ones though, so maybe try that instead with Y/N’s name.” 
“Hey Joshua. People call you Josh, right?” You asked very seriously, leaning towards him a bit. He nodded and you continued. “Then should I call you Shua?”
“Hey! We are deciding pet names for each other! Not for you and Joshua!” Jeonghan protested, though he was laughing at your seriousness. Joshua laughed too and gave you a thumbs up, causing you to lean back into the couch, satisfied. 
Then turning towards Jeonghan you said, “Do you mind if I call you Hannie?” 
He cocked his head towards the side as his eyes widened a little. But this time he didn’t look surprised, instead he looked genuinely curious as to why you picked that name, silently urging you to go on.
You felt your cheeks tingle with heat a little at the way he was looking at you attentively, so you quickly took a sip of your water before continuing. “Well, like Joshua said you kind of speak softly with people you are very comfortable with. So I felt…Hannie suited you a lot. I think it’s soft enough to suit you.” You said sheepishly.
“I thought you were calling me Shua?” Joshua interrupted, an evil glint in his eyes. You immediately knew he was going to pull your leg so you decided to play along. “I was joking. I use pet names only for my beloved boyfriend.”
You stressed on the ‘beloved boyfriend’ part and looked at Jeonghan. He was busy scribbling something on the paper but when he heard you accentuate that part, he looked up, eyes flicking between you and Joshua as the whole room stared at him. He looked surprised (this seemed to be the only response you could get out of him today) but nonetheless when his eyes landed on yours, he smiled at you softly.
Sunlight glided into the room through their partially open balcony, throwing light on Jeonghan and giving him almost an angelic glow. His eyes curved into half moons as he smiled at you, his long hair falling in front of his eyes a little. For the first time you noticed how delicate his features were, like he was a beautiful statue but carved in glass. 
You felt your heart stutter a little and you frowned. Looking at the glass of water in your hand, you emptied it one go. Maybe you weren’t drinking enough water? It was afternoon and it had been quite some time since you left your dorm.
“Oh, sorry! I promised you lunch right?” Jeonghan exclaimed, thinking you drank all the water because you were hungry. Before you could respond, he had already gotten up, walking towards some sheafs of pamphlets kept on their tv cabinet. “You like braised chicken, don’t you?”
You blinked at him, surprised. “How did you know that?”
“You always order that when we all eat out.” Jeonghan stated causally. He began flipping all the pamphlets, then finding one particular restaurant’s, he took out his phone and dialled the number. Was Jeonghan always this attentive?
“What about you?” You asked Joshua. He got up and sat beside you. “Jeonghan knows what I usually order. So, can I ask you a question?”
Through the corner of your eyes you saw Jeonghan slip into his bedroom. “Sure, go ahead Shua.”
He grinned at you and leaned in closer, until you could smell the faint scent of his soap. You saw his eyes change to seriousness as his voice dropped a little before asking, “Can I ask why are you and Jeonghan doing this?”
“Oh.” It was out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. Here you thought he was going to either flirt with you or let you in on a serious secret about Jeonghan but instead he asked this. You laughed awkwardly to cover up your flusteredness. What are you thinking, Y/N? You are with Jeonghan now! This isn’t the time to think about his best friend and roommate! “Ah, it’s just that we need an escort to Min Seolah’s party next week so me and Jeonghan decided to pretend we are a couple just so that we can be each other’s escort.”
“Ah, then were you open to anyone you were comfortable with?”
“Yeah, as long as the other person too was comfortable with it. It kind of just popped out of my mouth, to be honest.”
He scrunched his nose a little, as though regretting something. “I wish I was there instead of Jeonghan then.”
You blinked at his words, trying to process what he had just said. Had the Hong Joshua said he wished it was him in a fake relationship with you? Sure the two of you were friends but still, it did nothing to stop the sudden whooping feeling in your stomach.
“Too bad it was me then.”
You turned to see Jeonghan leaning against his door frame, grinning at the two of you indicating that he was joking. Immediately you felt guilt clutch at your throat. You had roped Yoon Jeonghan into your proposition of dating but here you were now, flirting with his close friend. 
Joshua, on the other hand, seemed unfazed about it. If anything, he looked amused as he leaned back into the couch lazily, studying Jeonghan’s expression.
“Anyways, they’ll deliver in half an hour's time. Come on, Y/N. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”
“What else?” He was suddenly so serious that you were taken aback slightly. 
“We need to talk about physical touch and kissing too, of course.”
“Kissing?!” 
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“So did you two discuss about kissing?” Kim Yeri, your roommate, asked as you threw your face into your pillow to muffle your scream.
“No, I ran out of there before we even got started on that topic. Talking about physical touch itself was so embarrassing, I thought I would die if we started talking about kissing. He’s so serious about it. Why did I even suggest such a thing?” 
“Desperate times call for desperate measures, bestie.” Yeri said comfortingly, patting your back.
“I mean, he’s so nice to me. I feel like…I feel like I’m using him or something.”
“Then don’t use him. Use this opportunity to…ah, you know, get a boyfriend.” You glared at the girl sitting on your bed and she winked at you, causing you to get up and smack her lightly with a pillow.
“No way! This is just an act! How shallow am I to fall for a man who agreed to pretend to be my boyfriend?”
Yeri shrugged, as though it wasn’t a big deal. “Happens all the time in movies. Besides, Yoon Jeonghan isn’t that bad, is he? He’s funny, friendly, handsome and smart. He’s so fucking pretty too. Everyone loves his jokes and pranks.”
“Yeah, as long as you aren’t the one getting pranked.” You muttered, eyes darting to your phone. He had told you to message him once you reached and you had done, but he still hadn’t even read it yet. You mulled Yeri’s thoughts in your head. She was right, Jeonghan was pretty. You had always known that but somehow seeing him against the sunlight made you see him in a different light. Quite Literally. 
“So when’s your next date?”
“It’s not a date…” You began, but stopped when Yeri raised an eyebrow at you. “Fine, we are just going shopping to buy some ‘couple’ things.”
“Sounds like a rather cute date to me.”
“Yeri!”
How the rest of the evening and the next day passed by quickly was shocking to you (you wished time passed this quickly during statistics class but no, time and you had to have a beef with time). You had let Seungkwan into your plan and he had also sworn that he wouldn’t tell it to anyone, even if he was being threatened with not being able to drink iced americano for an entire year (a threat you were highly tempted to try out but alas, you loved your best friend too much). But he was a committed best friend. Seungkwan had even written down some points to make your relationship more realistic and you had hastily stuffed it down your coat’s pocket, so that you could show it to Jeonghan later on.
Very soon, you found yourself and Jeonghan seated on the sofa of the high end boutique near to your college, waiting for the attendants to attend to you both. You were a regular customer here due to your trips with Yeri and even sometimes with Seungkwan, so the shop assistant knew you from before. They had greeted you with their usual friendly smile they always gave you, until their eyes landed on Jeonghan, travelling down to your entwined hands.
Jeonghan had insisted that the two of you hold hands when you enter the shop, saying that it would be a practice. At first you were a bit uncertain, but then he reminded you that it was ideal for your boyfriend to take you shopping, and that shop assistants did not gossip much. You were still not sure about it but nonetheless slipped your hand in his.
His bony fingers grasped your gently as he gave you a smile, pulling you into the boutique with him. Despite his hand being cold, you felt your fingers tingle underneath his touch, a sensation you kept feeling even after he had let go of your hand. 
The attendants looked a bit too elated as they ushered you and Jeonghan into a room, telling they’ll be right back to attend the two of you.
Presently, Jeonghan was bobbing his legs beside you, both of your knees brushing against each other slightly. He seemed unfazed by this and so should have been you, but for some reason this made you hyper aware of your both’s closeness. You could smell his cologne, making you realise you had never really gone shopping with another man who wasn’t, well, Seungkwan. 
It also made you wonder whether he had done this before with someone else. He looked so experienced, the way he just casually checked over some of the items displayed, as though he had a habit of buying what caught his eyes for his significant other.
“Have you done this before?” You asked, and he looked at you confused, blinking as though asking you to elaborate. “I mean,” you said after clearing your throat. For some reason you were feeling very awkward asking him this, almost feeling the heat tingle on your cheeks. “Have you gone on a date to the boutique to buy couple clothes?” 
“Ah, no. This is my first time actually.” He said with a soft smile. You felt relief settle in you as you automatically smiled back at him, before catching yourself. What are you doing? You screamed internally, wondering why Jeonghan was so soft with you. 
You realised that the way he smiled and the way he talked to you had always given you this mad urge to melt right then and there in front of him, as though you just couldn't bring yourself to be harsh with him. True, you had yelled at him a few times for cheating (quite blatantly at that) while playing games but it had always ended in laughter and giggles, as though you couldn’t stay angry at him for long.
He gave you the urge to stare at him for hours, studying and etching his features into your brain forever, as though he was a piece you would have to sculpt later on. It amazed you that no matter how many times you looked at him, you always found him beautiful as though it was the first time you had laid your eyes on him.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the shop assistant, asking what the two of you would like.
“Can we get clothes which complement each other? Like even subtly is fine for us.” Jeonghan asked.
Hell, he even had an amazing voice. He was so well mannered that you were sure if you had met Jeonghan at one of your parent’s parties instead, you would have fallen heads over heels with him. 
“Not matching couple clothes?”
“No. Something which complements each other would be better. What do you think, Y/N?”
To be honest, you thought that was a genius idea. In that way, you could even wear the dress after your ‘breakup’, without making things awkward. Leave it to Yoon Jeonghan to sort out everything just perfectly. 
“Yeah, I think that is a brilliant idea too. Oh, we also need to pick your suit and my dress for the party.” You reminded him.
“Do you want to choose for each other?”
“What?” The question had completely caught you off guard. Wasn’t picking dresses for each other something couples did? You both really didn’t need to act as a couple too much here, so why was he suggesting it?
“We don’t have to do it, if you are feeling awkward about it.” He said gently. If Yoon Jeonghan treated you sweetly one more time, you were sure you would start smiling at him like a fool constantly. Then his eyes lit up mischievously and he leaned in, as though about to tell you his biggest secret. “But I do have a great fashion choice.”
You let out a laugh at this, amused that that was what he had wanted to say. Smiling at him you shook your head, indicating that he could choose for you.
“What’s your favourite colour?” He asked, looking at dresses hanging on the hangers being rolled in front of the two of you. 
“I like pink. Or any light shade, actually.” 
“Then how’s this one?” He pointed at one of the pink gowns that had caught your eyes previously, and you nodded eagerly at him.
“I’ll try that out!” You said as you walked into the changing room, glad that both of your tastes had aligned well. Once you were done you stepped out, clearing your throat to get Jeonghan’s attention, who was busy on his phone. He looked up and froze for a second, before his eyes darted all over your figure, checking you out with his mouth slightly open.
You felt your cheeks flush at the way he was looking at you, the way he swallowed and then smiled at you gently. Your stomach fluttered at his action, unable to stop yourself from mirroring his smile. Jeonghan got up and walked over to you, grinning at you as he cocked his head towards the side slightly.
And for some reason, that action made you feel even more giddy.
“How do I look?” You asked, sounding breathless for some reason. Embarrassed, you tried to cover it up by pretending to be excited, and twirling in front of the mirror once to see for yourself.
“You look amazing. Like really, really beautiful.”
He sounded really genuine and you beamed at him, equally happy that both of you chose a dress that suited you very well. You had been called beautiful many times, mostly by men trying to flatter you or your father, but something about the way Jeonghan said it made you shy.
“Should we choose one for you?” You asked once you came back from the changing room, eyeing all the tuxedos that had been brought in now. Jeonghan nodded and you walked over to the rack, searching for one that would bring out his delicate features more beautifully.
“How about this one?” You asked, pointing at a white coloured one. It looked like a conductor’s tuxedo and you felt that it would really go well with his long hair. He nodded and went inside the changing room, while you sat down on the couch, waiting for him to return.
“Y/N?” Someone softly called you, and you looked up to see Jeonghan smiling at you, all dressed up in the outfit you had picked for him. He was just smiling, an expression he gave you quite often and honestly it shouldn’t have had much effect on you, it really shouldn’t. You should have just smiled back, complimented him, paid for your stuff and gone out to eat a round of ice cream that you had promised him.
But instead, it had a great effect on you.
Just Yoon Jeonghan standing there and smiling at you had a huge effect on you. It made time slow down as you felt your heart hammer loudly in your chest, squeezing painfully every now and then. If you hadn't been sitting down your knees might have given away, breath gone for a second as you admired for the millionth time how beautiful he was. 
Because he really was. He looked so handsome, so pretty and so- every adjective that you could think of but couldn’t really because of how goddamned ethereal he looked right now. It was like the suit was tailor made for just him. He looked like a prince straight out from your dreams and it took you all your willpower to stop fluttering in your heart.
Realising you were staring at him for too long, you looked away immediately, releasing a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. Your cheeks burned in shame at the effect he had on you, despite it being just the second time you had hung out with him after deciding to fake your relationship. 
You had known him for quite some time, it wasn’t like the two of you had become friends just yesterday. 
And yet, you felt like you were ‘rediscovering’ Jeonghan. Like his smile for example. Even though you knew he was pretty, nothing prepared you ever for the sudden flutters in your heart everytime he smiled at you. Or the way he smelled a bit too good, when he had come to pick you up earlier, like he had just stepped out of the shower.
“Y/N?” Jeonghan called you, jostling back to the present. His usual angelic smile was now replaced by a smirk, and you groaned internally and cursed yourself for digging up your own grave. Why did you have to stare at him like that? “Do I look so good that I left you speechless?”
“Shut up, Yoon. You look fine.” You emphasised on the ‘fine’, rolling your eyes so that he got your message but that just caused him to grin at you more.
Nope. Nope. There was no way you were developing feelings for Yoon Jeonghan. Definitely not after you knew how sinister he was and definitely not after you asked him to be your fake boyfriend. You didn’t want to inflate his ego by making him think that he could make you fall for him by just literally breathing, all the while he played the act of being your fake date.
Slowly you got up from your seat and walked past him casually, letting the shop owner know that you were ready to pay. 
You were determined to not let Jeonghan’s presence shake you. It’s just for a week, Y/N. After that the two of you can just go back to being friends and this stupid crush you might be developing will go away.
What you didn’t though, was that you were bad at predicting the future. Vey, very bad.
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“Hey, I think both Joshua and Jeonghan have a thing for you. Ever considered being in a poly relationship?” Seungkwan whispered into your ears not-so-subtly.
You glared at him for this scandalous comment before quickly glancing at Jeonghan and Joshua sitting opposite to the two of you. Luckily, they both were busy with their midterm project and were discussing something while comparing notes on their laptops.
The promised ice cream ‘date’ of three days ago had to be cancelled because it had begun raining all of a sudden and neither of you wanted to get wetter than what you were when you ran into the bus stand. So you had promised to take him to the little cafe inside your campus instead, and Joshua and Seungkwan decided to tag along to act as ‘chaperones’, though you weren’t sure what they were chaperoning because both you and Jeonghan had lots of assignments left and had been planning to do your own work.
“Shut up, Boo!” You hissed, never wanting to murder your best friend more than right now. “What if they heard you?”
“What about it? Both of them know that everyone wants to have a threesome with them.”
“Have a threesome with whom?”
You turned to Joshua in horror, feeling embarrassment creep into your cheeks as he eagerly looked between the two of you. Jeonghan on the other hand looked surprised, as though not even sure what the conversation was about.
“Have a threesome with whom? Us?” Joshua asked again, his smile a bit too excited for his own good. You thought he would be uncomfortable with it but instead he looked excited about this conversation, causing you to groan as you buried your face in your hand.
“Stop acting like you don’t know! Don’t rub it on me that the two of you are more handsome than me!” Seungkwan sulked, giving his signature side eye to Joshua. But that just caused Joshua to smile more brightly at him, as though Seungkwan’s misery was his pleasure (which it probably was).
“I’m not rubbing it on you! I might be handsome but there’s no one cuter than you, Seungkwan. Right, Y/N?” You faked a look of disgust and pretended to puke over your drink. Though you wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you were even willing a fight a lion if it disagreed that your best friend was adorable and handsome (you dearly hoped it wouldn’t come down to that situation. The last time all of you went to the zoo, Minghao and Jihoon nearly pushed Soonyoung into the tiger’s den for claiming to be one so you learnt that whatever you told, your friends would try their level best to make it come true).
“Are you two flirting? Is this a double date?” Jeonghan asked, head turning between Joshua and Seungkwan as though he was watching a tennis match. 
“No way, I’m only going to date the person who calls me Shua, no one else.” 
Your eyes widened at his statement and you gulped in a huge amount of your drink, causing you to choke and violently cough. While Seungkwan and Joshua just laughed at you (you were literally dying and of course that would be the immediate response of the people you called friends), Jeonghan looked worriedly at you and reached out to gently pat your hand. You felt your breathing slowly ease down due to his action, and he grabbed your hand in his to gently rub circles with his thumb.
It was a rather small act from a friend who just cared about you. Nothing romantic or intimate at all, and yet you felt a warm fuzzy feeling grow at your heart. He smiled at you gently when you had completely stopped coughing, pouring a cup of water and handing it to you.
You were grateful for the drink and you took in a sip cautiously, your mind still wandering to the now disappearing feeling in your chest. 
Your thoughts were interrupted by the waitress who came to your table, and you recognised her as someone you might have seen talking to your Applied Physics - I professor. She gave you, Seungkwan and Joshua a half-assed smile, but when her eyes landed on Jeonghan, she smiled at him in the most glamorous way ever.
“So what can I get you guys now?” She asked. Miyeon, as her name tag stated, was clearly talking to the entire table yet her eyes were trained only on Jeonghan. You saw him return her smile politely, and you felt your insides churn a little.
Because it was the same smile he always gave you. The same goddamn smile that had you feeling that you were on cloud nine, that made you shy and that same smile that made you feel special.
So he wasn’t doing it just for you? 
You never thought you would ever be jealous over something this trivial. You didn’t even like him in that way and yet, you could almost feel the disappointment clutching at your heart almost a bit too tightly.
It then hit you that the only expression Jeonghan had given you so far was either his look of surprise or a smile, but nothing more than that. Whenever he was hanging out with the entire gang or even now when it was just Joshua, you and Seungkwan, he had been laughing and cracking lots of jokes. But when he was with you all alone, all he did was smile and give you compliments, as though the two of you had just met due to a blind date set up by your parents. 
Did you make Jeonghan that uncomfortable? Was he too nice to say no to your idea back then?
But the Jeonghan you knew wasn’t a pushover, so he must have thought about it a bit before agreeing, right? You are just overthinking everything. You chided yourself. 
Your further thoughts were all stopped when you noticed everyone at the table staring at you. 
“Your order?” Miyeon asked, annoyance evident in her voice.
“Er, I would like to have your Special Strawberry Jam Sandwich. And another cup of coffee please.”
“Got it.” Then turning back towards Jeonghan, she said, “So that’s your order too? Not your regular?”
Jeonghan nodded as the word regular whirled in your brain. He visited this cafe often? Had he- had he lied to you then?
The rest of the meal passed by in a blur, with the three boys doing the most of the talking. You joined in once or twice but mostly stayed to yourself, contemplating hard on what to do next.
It wasn’t that you were crushing on Jeonghan and that was making you sad. It was more like you didn’t want him to feel extremely uncomfortable around you, seeing how he had clearly lied to you about the cafe and treated you just the way he treated any other person on the street.
Soon it was time to leave and the four of you walked out of the cafe. But before you could part ways with the boys, Jeonghan grabbed your arm and stopped you.
“I want to talk to you.” He said and you nodded, realising that it would be better if even you got all your questions cleared up. Through the corner of your eyes you saw Seungkwan take out his phone and hastily type down something, and felt your phone vibrate almost immediately after he hit the send button.
Taking out your phone you checked his message, feeling a smile tug at the corner of your lips. 
[uriboo]: if yoon jeonghan tries anything funny, just send sos. no matter where i am, i’ll kick his ass using my special kick reserved for soonyoung only.
You gave him a thumbs up and waved him goodbye, watching Joshua and Seungkwan’s retreating figures disappear round the corner. It was almost evening by now and the sky had turned a light shade of orangish pink. You stared it for some time until you felt Jeonghan tug you once more.
“Come on. Let’s talk there.” He asked, pointing at one of the benches farther away from the walking path. “No one will hear us there.” You nodded and followed him, sitting down beside him. A few moments passed as the two of you just watched students walk by, neither of you taking the lead to start the conversation.
“Are you okay?” Jeonghan asked after some time, and you turned to look at him dryly.
“I’m…fine. Okay, I guess. Just a bit tired.”
“No…what’s wrong? Did someone say something? Did I hurt you?”
There he went again.
You turned to glare at him but the look of concern on his face was enough to stop you. He looked really worried for you, and even reached out to grab your hand and give it a squeeze. You gulped to stop the way your heart fluttered at his actions, reminding yourself of what you had to ask him.
“Why…why did you lie to me?” You asked, swallowing thickly once more so that you didn’t sound hurt. But your voice still sounded strangled, and if Jeonghan had noticed it, he didn’t show it.
“Are you talking about the cafe?” He asked gently, and you nodded slowly.
“When I said I would take you out to a new place and mentioned its name too, you didn’t tell me you already went there. The waitress mentioned that you were a regular there!” It almost sounded like you were whining by this point.
Jeonghan blinked at you once, twice and then burst out laughing. “Is that what is bothering you?”
Pulling your hand away from his, you swatted his arm lightly, feeling hurt at his reaction. “It’s not funny! I literally gushed to you about the strawberry sandwich, saying that if you tried it you would forget every other sandwich when you had probably tried it a million times before. Do you know how embarrassing it is? It's so embarrassing that I bragged about something you already knew, it makes me look like a show off.”
“Ah, but I had never actually tried the strawberry sandwich before.” He said, taking your hand in his again. “I really had never tried it before, which is why I didn’t say anything. Besides, you looked so cute when you were talking about the cafe and I really didn’t want you to stop.”
You froze a little, taken aback by his last statement. Quickly, you tried to change the subject, hoping he wouldn’t notice the sudden heat forming on your cheeks.
“I-I- Okay. I-I have a few more questions to ask, if you don’t mind. Or…you can go first about whatever you wanted to talk about.”
“Go ahead. I finished asking mine. I just wanted to know what’s wrong with you.” 
“Oh.” So it was the typical Jeonghan-cares-for-you question. “Er, are you and the waitress close? Um, what’s her name? Miyeon?”
“Not that close.” He replied nonchalantly. “She had helped me with some physics homework once, that’s all. And oh, also because I visit the cafe regularly.”
“I think she likes you.”
“Yeah me too.” He smirked when you stared at him. “Jealous?”
“Jealous of whom? You?” You countered back, keeping your expression as neutral as you could. You weren’t, couldn’t be jealous and you weren’t going to show him that you were either. He laughed at your comeback and you felt yourself smile, feeling pleased that he had enjoyed your retort. 
“Point. Miyeon is pretty. But just so you know, she had asked me today whether I could hang out with her sometime later.”
“When did this happen? What did you say?” Even though you knew Jeonghan probably said yes, you still wanted to hear the answer from him.
“I said you were my girlfriend, what else? It happened when you had gone to the bathroom and she got the bill to the table. She then even asked why were you sitting beside Seungkwan if you were my girlfriend.”
“And what did you guys say then?”
“Seungkwan said ‘bros before hoes’.”
You rolled your eyes, questioning yourself why you even thought your best friend might have given a smart answer. “Of course he did. Can I ask you one more question?”
“You are asking an awful lot of questions, aren’t you?” He smiled at you, his eyes glinting in a teasing manner.
“It’s the last one! Please, Hannie?”
It was the first time you were using the nickname and you could swear you saw him tense for a fraction of a second. Then it was gone as soon as it had come. Instead, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, indicating you to go. You had almost forgotten that the two of you were still holding hands, and this squeeze seemed to suddenly liven the atmosphere around the two of you, as though reminding you of his presence.
“Do you…find it uncomfortable to be with me?”
His smile faltered, clearly caught off guard by your question.
“I mean, do I make you feel uncomfortable? Like…did you say yes to being my boyfriend just because you didn’t want to refuse me and make me feel bad or-”
“Why would I do that? Shit, do I act like that around you? You aren’t someone new Y/N. You have been my friend for quite some time. Why would I feel uncomfortable around you? And I didn’t say yes because I felt bad for you. We both needed escorts and that’s why I said yes.”
“Then why do you act so differently when you are around me?” You asked, releasing your hand from his grasp. “Like, like you always look like you are enjoying yourself when we are with our friends but whenever it's just the two of us, you act just so sweet and nice. That’s about it. Just- just sweet and nice. Like how you are to Miyeon.”
He didn’t say anything for a while, as though thinking before answering your question.
“It’s not that I don’t like you Y/N. And I definitely didn’t say yes because I thought you were pathetic or something. Really. It’s just that…I don’t know how this works either.”
“How does what work?” You asked, your voice much softer than you expected. Jeonghan leaned in to you a bit closer, and for the first time you saw him beyond the smiles and jokes he made. He looked tired, really tired as though this act was wearing him out too.
“I-I’m not sure what kind of boyfriend you want. I’m not sure whether I should treat you like a friend and crack jokes about the most useless thing or treat you like a princess like your boyfriend probably would. I don’t know how much to step out of the line of being friends. I don’t know what is the line that oversteps from fake boyfriend to real boyfriend. I…just don’t know what to do most of the time.”
This time, you took his hand in yours, giving them a gentle squeeze. He looked up at you and you smiled softly at him, trying to ease down all the pressure he had been feeling for the past few days. 
You were such an idiot. How could you expect him to act normally when you had just dumped a huge burden over his shoulder?
“Jeonghan…it’s okay. You are doing great, you know that? And sometimes, when I look at you, I wish I could be more like you. You don’t need to treat me as your girlfriend, really. Like I said, I would never want to make you feel uncomfortable. Just treat me as a friend, okay? And if you ever want to stop, just tell me. I’ll always be there for you.”
He gulped and nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact even once. Your heart gave a painful squeeze when he still didn’t look away, all of a sudden feeling that your entire surrounding had melted away.
You could only feel his soft gaze on you, almost feeling raw and exposed and yet, even you couldn’t look away.
“I would never leave you.” Jeonghan whispered, almost mumbling as he finally tore away his gaze. 
“Why? Is this arrangement proving to be useful to you too?” You joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Yeah it did help me escape from Miyeon.”
“So I’m your scapegoat now?” You asked scandalously, letting go of your hands so that you could grab him by the shoulder and glare properly. He grinned at you, back to his playful nature. You felt your heart swell by the way he giggled, the infectious laughter causing you to smile too despite trying to sound mad at him.
“Hey, aren’t friends supposed to protect each other like that?”
“Not- not- I- okay whatever!”
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“Er, do you see Seungkwan?” You asked Yeri, eyes scanning the crowd for your best friend. The loud noise from the booming speaker was making it almost impossible to hear your roommate, so you turned to her, only to find yourself standing alone in a crowd of drunk bodies. You groaned internally as Yeri was your designated driver today, and you prayed that wherever she went, she wouldn't end up drunk like she had last time.
Byun Baekhyun, a senior known for his loudness and great ambition to wreck chaos wherever he went had decided to throw a party for the first years as a celebration for completing the first term without losing their sanity (which was clearly a lie; you were close to losing your mind). 
“How am I supposed to find anyone- Hey! Yuna!” Grabbing the hands of the said girl, you felt familiarity rush in when she turned to you and gave you a smile.
“Hey, Y/N. You look great. Dressed up for someone special?”
“As if. Have you seen Seungkwan anywhere? I just can’t find him.”
At this she snickered. “Seungkwan? Are you sure you are searching for him?”
You frowned at her. When she saw that you didn’t understand what she was indicating, she smiled at you and beckoned you to come closer. “Are you sure,” she whispered in your ear, the slight smell of alcohol wafting to your nose, “you aren’t looking for Jeonghan?”
You drew back from her sharply, all of a sudden feeling hot. How does she know? Does word travel that fast? Of course it does. When Yuna saw that you didn’t say anything, she let out a laugh and patted your shoulder before pointing at the corner.
Giving her a tight lipped smile, you followed the direction of her finger though you weren’t really sure whether she had pointed to Seungkwan or Jeonghan.
“Thank god!” You exhaled, when you saw Seungkwan and Chan sitting on a couch in the corner of the room, and you quickly slipped in between them. 
“Thank God for what?” Seungkwan asked.
“Nothing. Yuna’s drunk. Where are the others?” You asked, taking a sip of the solo cup Seungkwan had just handed you. You found it odd that it was just Seungkwan, Chan and you here because usually your entire gang of friends used to stick together to have fun at parties.
“Ah, that.” Chan snickered. “Your boyfriend might or might not have caused a little bit of a problem.”
“What? What happened?” You asked, turning your head to look at Seungkwan and Chan alternatively. To say you weren’t concerned would be a lie. And it was definitely not because Jeonghan was your faux boyfriend.
“Er, so Jeonghan might or might not have got his toy sword and wooden hammer with him to the party-” Seungkwan began.
“He got what?”
“You know, his toy sword-”
“I knew about his toy sword but not his wooden hammer.”
“It's for self defence against bad guys at night, apparently.” Chan added, causing you to groan. 
“What happened then?”
“I think someone made some comment about you and he decided as your boyfriend, mind you the entire college knows now, he had to defend your honour. He even gave the opponent his wooden hammer because he wasn’t armed.” Seungkwan finished, calmingly taking a sip of his drink like it was completely natural for Jeonghan to fight for your honour.
You looked at Chan incredulously and he too had the same expression. “He’s joking right?”
“Jeonghan was drunk. Like really, really drunk when it started.”
“How did he get this drunk so quickly?”
“Sweetheart, the party started an hour ago. Not everyone remembers their incomplete inorganic homework five minutes before leaving.” Seungkwan stated, causing you to glare at him.
“So where are the others?”
“Well, the challenge was made just before you came and Jeonghan went upstairs to ‘duel’. Seungcheol, Mingyu, Minghao and  Seokmin followed him upstairs to stop him while the rest followed him to egg on him.”
Chan got up, followed by you and Seungkwan. “We were just waiting for you. I bet your lover boy is dying to see your face.”
“Shut up Chan.” Your face was practically burning by now. But this was what you had wanted, right? To make everyone think you both were a couple? “Please tell me we are going upstairs so that both of you can join the team that stops him and not eggs on him?”
Seungkwan gave you a dirty look. “How low do you think we are? Of course we are going to egg him on.”
“Fucking hate you all.”
Luckily, upstairs wasn’t that crowded but it still took the three of you some pushing around to reach the centre. The scene that met your eyes nearly turned you blood cold. The other guy, you recognised him as a senior from your major, had Jeonghan on his knees as he gripped his shirt collar. He was yelling profanities at Jeonghan, but he was too out to even listen to him. You saw that his lip had split open and his right eye looked bruised.
“Why aren't you stopping him?” You hissed to Seungcheol. You noticed that even though all your friends were there, none of them were cheering for the fight to continue. In fact, they all looked scared now
.
“We can’t. He’s a senior and he said- he said if we stop him then he’s going to hurt Jeonghan more!” Seungcheol himself looked terrified and you gritted your teeth angrily. It was true. If a senior ragged you, there was nothing you could do except accept your fate.
You heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh; loud, and both you and Seungcheol turned to see Jeonghan on the floor, the senior’s hand balled in a fist. At that moment, something snapped inside you and you found yourself walking towards him.
“Y/N, wait-” Seungkwan began worriedly but it was too late. Everything happened so fast but all you vaguely remembered was yanking the senior by hair and landing a slap on his cheeks. Since he was drunk that slap was enough to cause him to lose his balance, and you just shoved him into the ground.
Turning around, you picked up Jeonghan’s sword and hammer before turning to the groaning boy. Gently tugging one arm over your shoulder, you tried pulling him up. It was a bit hard, considering he was drunk and hurt and using you completely as support, but then his weight lightened on you and you turned to see Joshua slinging his other arm around his neck.
“Let me help you.” He muttered. The crowd parted away easily and before you knew it, the three of you were outside. It was a bit hard dragging Jeonghan all the way to the dorm and the only reason you managed to do it was because Joshua was bearing his maximum weight. 
Finally, you reached their room and pulled Jeonghan onto his bed. The two of you sat down beside him, trying to catch your breaths. Glancing at Jeonghan’s resting figure, you felt your heart clench painfully. 
Moonlight streamed into the room, lighting up his face in an almost angelic glow and yet the blows he had received were painfully visible.
“Thank you.” You heard Joshua mutter, and you looked up at him. He too was looking at Jeonghan sadly, as though he had been punched too. Then he looked at you and gave you a soft smile. “Thank you for stepping up.”
“It’s nothing.” You huffed. “I just did what I had to do for a friend. I’m not blaming you guys though!”
“Still. It was a really brave thing to do. But are you sure about that?”
“About what?”
Joshua leaned in until your faces were just a few inches apart. You tried backing away but the headboard hit you and you were left with no space to move. He smirked at you before speaking. 
“Are you sure about Jeonghan being, you know, just a friend?”
You stared at him with your mouth slightly open, slowly thinking of what he had said.
Jeonghan was a friend, right? You had come in terms with him a few days ago and had convinced yourself that he was a friend. You would step into a fight for any of your friends, right?
A groan from beside you interrupted your thoughts and both of you turned to see Jeonghan staring at you with half opened eyes. 
“Y/N.” He whispered your name with a small smile, wincing almost immediately when the cut on his lips stung. His eyes travelled along your body before it landed on Joshua. He frowned at the said man, as though trying to comprehend something.
“Joshua.”
“Nice to meet you too.”
He blinked several times before staring at something between the two of you. Then he tried getting up by propping up his elbows which gave away immediately, causing his head to land on your lap instead. You stiffened at the closeness but figured he was too drunk and hurt to even overthink this situation.
“Why are you two always so close? Everytime I’m gone, the two of you are almost always together.” He sounded almost hurt. You tried making sense of what he meant by that but Joshua just laughed.
Getting up, he said, “I’ll leave the two of you alone. If he tries something, call me. I’ll be in my bedroom. Oh also, try thinking about what I told you before.” Giving you a wink, he exited the room, closing the door behind him.
“What did he tell you?” Jeonghan asked, turning on your lap so that he was facing you now. His hair was sticking to his forehead due to the sweat, the jet black colour appearing almost dark blue under the moonlight. You hissed when you saw his wounds up close, gently brushing his hair away from his face.
He caught your wrist as his eyes fluttered open, staring at you before repeating his question. “What did Joshua tell?”
“Nothing, you idiot. Jeonghan, why the hell did you get into a fight? Do you know where you keep your medicines? I’ll get them-”
“No.” His grip on your hand tightened as he brought it over his chest, clasping it with his both hands now. “He made fun of you.”
Maybe it was the way he said it with so much hurt in his voice or maybe it was the way he looked like a prince underneath the moonlight, but you felt your breath catch your throat. Your heart gave a painful squeeze and then stuttered, as you watched his gentle features stare back at you softly.
It felt like time had stopped as you stared at Yoon Jeonghan lying on your lap, realising how beautiful he was. And no, it wasn’t like the other times you had realised it. This time, it felt painful, as though he had sucked out all your breath and had caused your heart to swell with this overwhelming emotion. 
It made you feel good, and you felt yourself craving for that feeling more.
“That doesn’t mean you’ll get into a fight with everyone. Look how hurt you are, Hannie.” You whispered softly. To be honest you weren’t sure why you were whispering, but as you gently stroked his hair with your free hand, it felt right talking to him softly.
He let out a harsh breath as he slowly raised on hand towards your face, causing you to freeze. You felt his fingers ghost your lips, and you almost leaned in to feel his touch. You felt your stomach lurch when your eyes met his, that feeling in your heart growing stronger as he refused to touch you yet.
“Love it when you call me that.” His voice had dropped an octave, and you nearly let out a squeak at his sudden sultry voice. Finally, you felt his long slender fingers grasp at your chin and his thumb brushed against your lips, giving you the contact your body was almost burning for. Your eyes fluttered close as he gently ran his thumb over your lips. “Love it so much I would give up ‘most everything to get you to call me that.”
You are drunk. He’s even more drunk. What do you think you are doing?
Your eyes snapped open at that realisation and you jerked away from his touch, his hand just falling limply to his side.
“We are drunk, Han- Jeonghan. We shouldn’t- I shouldn’t be doing this to you.” You told him as softly as you could, gently sliding his head off your lap onto the pillow. He had fallen asleep and now the only sound in the room that could be heard was his breathing; and the abnormally loud hammering of your heart. 
Slowly, you covered him with his blanket and kept his toy sword and hammer beside him before you snuck out of his room. Then closing the door behind you, you rested your back against it, taking a moment to catch your breath and calm down your racing heart.
If you weren’t sure about it before, you definitely were now. It was glaringly obvious to you, no matter how much you tried to push your feelings away.
You were in love with Yoon Jeonghan. 
It’s fine. You thought to yourself. I just need to pretend I don’t have feelings for him until tomorrow. Once we go about our own ways, I can bawl my eyes out to Seungkwan.
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“Miss?” The maid asked cautiously, and you looked at her annoyed, silently asking her to go on. “Your escort, Mr. Yoon, is here.” 
Wordlessly you got up, glancing at the mirror one last time to check your gloves and hair. Annoyance creeped into your features when you realised it didn’t even matter actually. Then you walked out of your house, making sure you shut the door behind you with a bang.
Walking out into the garden of your parent’s manor, you saw Jeonghan waiting for you, leaning against the limousine. His face broke into a grin when he saw you approaching, but it faltered when he realised you weren’t exactly smiling back at him.
“Hey.” He said, as he opened the door for you to enter.
“Hi.” You said curtly, bunching up your gown in the most careless manner and getting in the car, shutting the door before he could. He wordlessly got in through the other side, indicating the chauffeur to start.
A few minutes of silence passed before he spoke.
“Is…something wrong?”
You turned to glare at him, expecting him to look annoyed at your annoying attitude. Or even confused. But instead, he looked concerned.
Immediately you felt bad at being angry at him for something he didn’t even do. 
No. It wasn’t that you felt bad, it was more like his worried look had thrown you off your anger, feeling tears sting your eyes instead now.
“You can tell me about it. Or you don’t have to. But I’m all ears, anytime you need me.” Gently, he took your hands in his and gave it a squeeze, smiling at you softly. 
“I- Just- You look good today.” You choked out, trying to change the subject without looking too pathetic in front of him. How down bad were you for him that one worried glance caused you to break the dam of emotion that had been building up since morning.
But it was true. He did look good. The suit made him look more ethereal, and it did nothing to stop your heart from accelerating at that speed. 
His lips pulled into a smile, You noticed that his lips had almost healed, and the cut couldn’t really be seen unless you stared at it (which you definitely weren’t; because why would you stare at him?) 
“What can I say? I’m so pretty that I look good at everything.”
“Or I have a great choice of clothing.”
Jeonghan laughed and counter argued, but you were too busy staring at the way he laughed to listen to his banter. The way he displayed his teeth every time he smiled and the way his eyes crinkled at the corner when he laughed seemed to be pulling at your heartstrings. And the fact that he was gently rubbing circles on your hand with his thumb, sending electricity through your arm.
“I could help lighten whatever’s causing a frown on that pretty face of yours.”
His flirty comment brought you back to the present, quickly turning your head away to stare at the buildings speeding past the two of you instead. You felt the bitterness come back but it was much less than before as Jeonghan had helped you feel much light hearted.
“You’ll see once you reach there.” You muttered, and through the corner of your eyes you saw Jeonghan nod. The car came to a halt in front of a mansion, indicating that you had arrived at your destination.
“Y/N this is your last chance.” Jeonghan said. You blinked at him in confusion. “This is your last chance to change your partner to Joshua.”
Suppressing the laughter threatening to escape from you, you pretended to think. “Well…so far it’s still a no. But if I see Shua looks more handsome than you…then well, I can’t guarantee you I’ll be sleeping with you tonight.”
There was a rule of elite parties that required couples to sleep in for the night, which was why you had wanted to choose a familiar face in the first place.
Jeonghan pouted at you and you laughed, but immediately caught yourself when you felt your heart flutter. You couldn’t let this feeling grow. The two of you were just actors in a play and actors could never fall in love with each other.
Two of you walked over to your assigned room and only then did you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. You had met just a few people on your way here and the two of you had responded to all of them with small smiles, and you were greatly aware of Jeonghan’s arm around your waist.
“What do you want to do now?” Jeonghan, already lying down on the double bed. You narrowed your eyes as he kicked off his shoes and wrapped the blanket around himself. “What?” He asked when he saw you. “I’m tired, okay? Just wake me up half an hour before the party starts so that I can look a bit more presentable.”
“Okay? I, uh, I’m just going to look around, okay?” Saying that, you switched off the light for him and slipped out, wondering where you should go next. You vaguely remembered a fountain in one of the gardens from the one time you had come here with your parents and decided to search for it.
It took you some time but eventually (after a lot of checking through balconies whether it was the correct side of the garden) you managed to find it. But as you reached there, you saw someone already seated on its edges. You couldn't make out who it was, so you decided to leave. You stopped on your tracks and took a step back, only to step on a twig.
The twig snapped with a loud thwack! which was heard loud and clear in the silent garden. The boy sitting turned to look at you, his expression changing from shock to happiness as he recognised you.
“Y/N.” Joshua greeted you, patting at the stone beside him. “Come and join me.”
Knowing you were trapped, you had no other option but to go and sit down beside him. Not that you didn’t like his companion but you really didn’t want to lash out your anger at another innocent soul.
“Hi.”
“You look pretty.” Joshua commented, to which you just smiled. The words that he had told you yesterday seemed to ring in your head now. Did he mean this? About your feelings towards Jeonghan?
“Joshua?” You asked, clearing your throat. “Yesterday…what did you mean by that?”
“It’s no fun if I tell you. Did you think about it?” The familiar mischievous glint was back in his eyes. 
“I did…a little.”
“Then you know what I’m talking about-”
“I don’t like him.” You cut him off and then upon seeing his amused look, you added, “Not in that way. He’s just a friend who agreed to help me. I don’t have feelings for him at all.” 
“Well…everyone can tell you both are perfect for each other. No one even doubts for a second that the two of you aren’t.”
You just sighed, fluttering your eyes close as you let the night breeze calm you down a little. It’s okay. You thought to yourself. Everything will be okay once he isn’t pretending to be your boyfriend anymore. Once he is gone, these feelings would go too.
Yes. That was it. Maybe you were too immersed in your role of pretending and had let your emotions take control of you. Maybe you had thought that pretending to have feelings for him would make this much easier on both of you.
A small part of you kept screaming that lying to yourself won’t change this situation, but that didn’t stop you from saying your next line as you opened your eyes to look at the man sitting next to you with a smile.
“There’s nothing between the two of us. We are just…tryna do what lovers do.” 
You remembered how Jeonghan had used you as a scapegoat to turn down Miyeon. Yes, that was the main purpose, wasn’t it? This whole relationship was built on a lie, just meant to be used and thrown for such situations.
“Joshua? Y/N?”
You froze at the familiar voice and judging from Joshua's expression, even he wasn’t expecting it. You turned back to see Jeonghan looking at the two of you. He was smiling but there was something off about it. 
Joshua got up and walked up to him, before leaning in to whisper something in Jeonghan’s ear. Then waving you a goodbye, he walked off, leaving you and Jeonghan all alone. Jeonghan came and sat down beside you, though he maintained a little distance.
“Did you- did you overhear our conversation?” You asked, confused at this sudden change in behaviour.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “What’s there to overhear? I already know that. I already know that we are doing this for show.” He spoke curtly and you frowned.
Did you hurt him by any chance? But what you said was the truth, right?
“Are you okay? Did I say something?”
He let out a hollow laugh, before forcing a smile at you. “No, it’s not you. It’s all my fault really. It’s all my fault that this is happening and I’m sorry about it.”
“Jeonghan, you are acting weird.”
“Says the one who wouldn’t explain why she’s been mad the entire evening.”
“It’s my parents, okay?” You snapped, getting up and standing in front of him. He seemed taken aback by this sudden outburst but at this point, you really didn’t care. “They aren’t even coming today! All this drama I went through, all this stupid worry I had in my head at the end of the day meant nothing! I only agreed to come to this party because my parents would have been there but of course they decided to go to Switzerland today itself without telling me! 
I wouldn’t have even bothered asking you to be my escort if it weren’t for them. We would have been leading our own lives quietly but now I'm in this mess with you because of this stupid party! It’s so hard to play pretend that sometimes I just wish you would disappear!”
The last line slipped out of your mouth before you had even realised and you only stopped yourself when you saw Jeonghan’s expression.
You had stepped out of the line.
“I- I- Okay, I didn’t mean you to disappear! I mean, not because of that.”
Jeonghan wordlessly got up, his face all of a sudden so cold that you almost could hear your heart break. How could you do this? How could you do this to him? His eyes which usually used to hold a million emotions that you would associate with happiness were now empty as they stared back at you with contempt.
He opened his mouth to speak but closed it almost immediately, as though figuring out it was better to keep quiet than argue with you.
“I see. Well, I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable Y/N. I’ll leave for now but don’t worry, I’ll still pretend to be your escort for today. And then you don’t need to hang out with me that much in college. A week later, or wherever you feel like you don’t need me at all, we’ll just break up. Okay? I’m sorry for everything. Like I said, it’s all my fault.”
With that he walked away from you, your attempt to grab his sleeves fruitless.
“Jeonghan, wait! I didn’t mean it like that!” You yelled after him, but he didn’t look back at you even once. “I’m sorry, Jeonghan! I really am!”
You felt tears sliding down your cheeks as the frustration that had been building up finally broke through you. 
“Yoon Jeonghan! Do you even remember what happened yesterday?”
At this he stopped and turned back to you. His mouth fell open at your teary face but he didn’t take a single step to approach you.
“I’m asking you! Do you even remember what happened yesterday?”
He looked unsure how to answer that. After a while, he took a gulp and replied a soft ‘no’.
You closed your eyes, feeling the tears continue to flow. 
It hurt. It hurt so much that you wished your heart would stop beating. Maybe then, you would stop loving Jeonghan. Maybe then you would be able to move on from this relationship easily.
“What happened? Did I do-”
“Just leave, Hannie. Just leave.”
You saw him wince when you called him that but by now you were too tired to care, opting to sink onto the ground instead of dealing with what was in front of you. 
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It had been a week. Exactly a week without texts, a week without meeting up with Jeonghan unless it was your entire friend group, a week without holding hands and a week until you finally called him.
You had thought that maybe doing all of this would completely remove him from your head, that it would be much easier to move on by pretending that your feelings were because of being so close to him.
But if anything, your love for Yoon Jeonghan had seemed to grow. He was the only thing in your mind constantly as you thought about his antics and jokes. You missed his smile and the way he would hold your hands gently. You missed everything about Jeonghan but there was nothing you could do about it, especially not after how the two of you had very obviously fucked up your friendship (neither of you had even attended the party after that; the two of you just claimed that you were tired and left).
Not that anyone even noticed. Everyone still thought you two were a couple, and it took all of your willpower not to burst into tears whenever someone mentioned Jeonghan in front of you. Of course, Seungkwan knew. And you were sure Joshua knew too. But apart from that, no one had even questioned why the air seemed so stale whenever the two of you were together.
Which brought you to your present call.
“Hello?” A groggy voice on the other side of the line had you nearly jumping off your bed, as you grabbed the phone delicately near your ear, as though you might have been hearing things.
“Uh, hi. It’s me, Y/N.” Your heart still raced at the sound of his voice and you hoped you didn’t sound as squeaky as a twelve year old talking to their crush for the first time.
A pause.
Then he chuckled. “I know, I can see your caller ID.” 
Jeonghan had acted nonchalantly with you in front of everyone, like you hadn't just hurt his feelings by asking him to disappear. But you had thought that maybe he would be different when the two of you were alone, cold and distant since you had practically thrown his kindness onto his face.
“Hahah, yeah, yeah. Sorry, I forgot.” You muttered, embarrassed at the way you were acting. Your cheeks were feeling hot and you were glad that he couldn’t see you know.
“So what do you want?”
The words were like a slap to you, but you knew very well that you deserved that. That’s what your relationship had boiled down to. Just to fulfil each other’s needs.
“Um, my parents know about us.” You muttered.
“What?” He asked, as though he hadn’t heard you clearly the first time. You could hear the slight rise in his voice.
“My parents…they know about us and…you know how dating is in our world. They think I’m seeing you as a potential life partner for later on.”
“Do you want me to come over?” He asked softly, and something inside you broke.
“I- I- don't know what to do Hannie.” you felt tears stream down your cheeks. “I don't want you to think that I’m using you, not after what I told you. I shouldn’t even be asking you to cover for me anymore. I hate myself for that so much. But I really don’t know what to tell my parents-”
“Hey.” He hushed you. “I’ll be there, okay? When do you want me to come over?”
“Can you- can you come over for lunch?”
“I’ll be there for sometime before lunch then. Just wait a little, okay?” 
True to his word, Jeonghan showed up to your house half an hour before lunch time. The minute your maids had informed you that he was here, you had rushed downstairs to pull him into your bedroom without your parents noticing.
Locking the door behind you, you leaned your back against it to catch your breath. Your eyes flicked up to meet his worried ones, and you felt the familiar warmth rush back to your chest. 
“Jeonghan I-” You began but stopped when he held your hand that was clutching his sleeves. You thought he was trying to remove it but instead clasped it in his both hands. The huge apology that you had prepared in your head vanished, and all you could was stare at him with tears pricking your eyes once more.
“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” You whispered, your voice almost broken. Finding yourself alone with him for the first time after the incident seemed to have done something to you. All you could think of was getting him back. “I’m so sorry for all the things I told you.”
He stared at you for a few seconds, before dropping his eyes to your entwined hands. “It’s fine. It’s my fault you felt like that-”
“I wanted you to disappear because everytime I’m with you, I feel like I’m failing to just pretend you are my boyfriend.” You cut him off, taking a step closer to him. Your toes were now brushing each other’s and he looked up at you confused, as though he could not believe what he had just heard.
Taking a deep breath, you continued. “I know- I know that you might hate me after this because I’m- because I’m just misusing your goodness. But I’m in love with you Hannie. I like you so much that it drove me crazy trying to keep things the way it was between us. I had hoped maybe that after our fight I would forget you but instead I kept wanting you more. And I hated the fact that I hurt you. I hated-”
“Shh.” He whispered, taking both of your hands in his. He jerked you closer to him, until your noses were just a few inches apart. You were so close to him that you could smell the cologne lingering on him and see the black flecks in his soft brown eyes. His warm gaze was turning your knees to putty and you grasped his hand more tightly to steady yourself. “Don’t- Don’t ever say that, okay? Because I love you so much I can’t bear to see you crumbling like this, hating yourself for something that wasn’t even your fault. I love you so much that it’s okay if you don’t want me if I’m hurting you or making you uncomfortable.”
Taking a deep breath in harshly, you blinked at him as you tried to clear your brain.
Jeonghan…loved you too. He loved you.
When you didn’t say anything, Jeonghan covered the little distance between the two of you by pressing his lips against yours. You felt yourself melt into his touch, hands now clutching his biceps to steady yourself.
He pushed you against the door to press against your body better, his hands squeezing your hips gently. Jeonghan’s lips were soft against yours, kissing you feverishly as though you might disappear if he stopped to even catch his breath. 
You felt all rational thoughts leave your body when your teeth accidentally grazed against his lower lip, causing him to groan in your mouth. One hand cupped your cheek, tilting your face to get better access to your lips. 
His frantic kisses moved towards your ears, starting from the corner of your lip, to your cheek and finally to the soft skin right below your ear.
“Hannie.” You whispered softly, gripping his hair tightly as he sucked on the soft skin, kissing, biting and licking the same spot. You realised that the only thing supporting your jelly legs was the door and his grip on your waist, but you couldn’t even tell him to stop because of the euphoric feeling in your heart.
God, you loved him so, so much.
You tugged at his hair gently, causing him to stop doing what he was doing to look at you, and you threw your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug. He didn’t even falter for a second and immediately wrapped his arm around you, engulfing you in his warmth.
“I love it when you call me Hannie.” He whispered, kissing your ear softly. You felt yourself smile, giving him a squeeze as you felt your heart might explode out of happiness. 
“And I love you.”
Pulling away from him, you mirrored his smile, his soft gaze making you feel giddy like always. “But Hannie..” You began, and he cut you off with a quick kiss on your lips. 
“Hmmm?”
“I had really wanted to dance with you that day.”
“Is that so?” He hummed, his eyes shining with the familiar devilish glint. “Then should we dance after I tell your parents you are officially my girlfriend?”
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A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!    
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© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑  
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lover-of-mine · 2 months
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Okay, so, this will be a stream-of-consciousness type post, because I am this close to starting to print screenshots and do a full murder board trying to make this make sense to someone who is not in my brain, so I'm gonna type this out, and if you're seeing this that means it worked or I just typed for too long to not post lol.
Buck, Actually. Buck, Bothered, and Bewildered. I am not the only person that desperately wants a callback, and I know I'm not the only one thinking about what this might mean for buddie. Well, I've been saying for a while now that I would try to type out something about how buddie has been planned and the answers are in Buck, Actually, and that's what I'm gonna do now, I guess.
We know Buck gets a lot of his ideas of love from Buck, Actually. Seeing Maddie and Chim in the early stages, his own quest with love while moving on from Abby, notably Mitchell and Thomas and the "you don't find it, son, you make it." Buck's quest with love now is at a point where Buck wants to be seen "I feel like she sees me" but he is still at a point where he doesn't want to actually be seen, he wants someone to see what he wants to show, but that's not what actual love is. But still, we start out Buck, Actually with Buck literally in front of a huge sign that says "See Me" (also just to add into my madness about the blue and green in other elements of the scene, love the clear divide of Eddie against the sky and Buck against the sign, and yes I know they can't change the color of the sky or the sign but shh just go with it) with Eddie right above it. Interesting scene composition I think.
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But talking about the actual couple here, we have Lola, who feels like her husband doesn't see her anymore after a situation where she feels like she lost herself, their kid went off to college, she has more time to herself, is struggling, and goes nuclear until Norman proves that he does in fact see her, just not in the way she was looking for, dude just wasn't aware there was a problem that needed to be addressed. I know I make everything about the cemetery scene lately, but come on. The whole thing with being seen, Buck not knowing who he is after dying, the expectation he is putting on himself about being the person he was before but he doesn't know who that is, like, come on, it's there.
Then the robbers and the two employees at the gas station, granted the robbers are a lot about Buck thinking about his own ways when it comes to sex and women considering he just had sex with Taylor in a bathroom, BUT here is when I start to go a little crazy. Because Ruth and Earl have that little moment of a relationship developing (hi blue scrunchie green cap 🫶), which we later see has developed, but Earl with his injured right shoulder is talking about how he's hurt but he was only thinking about her safety.
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Does that sound familiar to anyone else? Just a thought. Yes, I know I'm crazy, it's fine, it will get worse.
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Because another thing about the episode is the whole "till death do us part" thing, with the newlyweds who crashed their car, Mitchell and Thomas dying together, and maybe even Buck having to hold Lola back so she wouldn't fall. I'll come back to this in a second, but you gotta love a nice little crush injury involving a vehicle and a focus on handholding, huh?
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But the thing is, Mitchell and Thomas make an impression on Buck, and Mr Self Destruct for Attention because that was the only way I was shown love as a child definitely takes the way they die together a bit too literally. Taylor being in this episode while being blatantly wrong for Buck makes an interesting point on that and the way bucktaylor evolves, because Buck gets the whole you make it, and decides he needs to kill himself to make it work, and it is what he ultimately does with Taylor, he thinks he loves her, he thinks she loves him, and he thinks that means if he doesn't give up he can move past his very obvious reservations about the relationship as a whole because "love is not supposed to be easy". But the whole thing is that Buck focuses on the wrong thing there because while Michell and Thomas died together, they had a whole life together, the point is not the death, it is the life. Yes, you need to fight to make it work, but the fight is not all you have.
Another thing about the episode is the concept of movement too, like, Lola's call on a freeway, both accidents involving a car crash of some sort, the robbery is a chase, even Buck and Taylor in the news van, Maddie talking about how slow being on the freeway is, and metaphorically too, with Madney starting to move towards something, Athena learning to deal with Michael's boyfriend. And Buck finally allowing himself to move on, and move on not going back to his old habits, sleeping with anyone for connection, but actually talking to his love interest for a change.
And we have relationships in all types of moments there, we have Buck and Taylor doomed to fail, we have Maddie and Chim in that nice early stage where you're falling in love with someone, you have Bobby and Athena and the whole when you know you know and the way Bobby proposes the next episode, we have the newlyweds, we have Ruth and Earl making the change in their relationship, we have Robber Guy and Baby Bear realizing that she's more in it than he is, we have Lola and Norman and the whole relationships take effort no matter how long you've been together, you have Mitchell and Thomas sharing a whole life.
There's also the whole layer of having the couple that shows Buck what he wants out of love be a gay couple, the way when Buck realizes Thomas is unresponsive he calls for Eddie first, because Chim and Hen are at the call, and they're not with Mitchell because Mitchell's body is there too, so like, the choice to make sure Eddie would be right next to Buck to comfort him is something.
Also, something else, the inmate who kidnaps them is also called Mitchell, and I cannot explain how I got here for the life of me. But Mitchell, Mitchell, Charlie, Charlie, Ambulance.
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I don't know, something about the repetition of names, the ambulance as a key piece of the scene, the bonding, the comfort, the fear, the way Mitchell and Thomas died together, and Buck and Eddie could have died together in all of those situations. And the way Buck volunteers into the danger in all of those situations, he offers to help Eddie with the grenade, he goes to get Eddie without backup while actively being shot at, he runs toward the gunfire because he thinks Eddie is in danger, so like, it's a pattern of wanting to go together.
But also, the madney of it all, because while they are clearly moving towards something, they are not ready yet, but everything is acknowledged, which honestly is my main hope, because I don't think buddie is ready yet, but I would like some acknowledgment that where they're going, yk? And with the episode title possibly being a play with the song about being in love and not showing it, not knowing what to do with it, and the next episode being called "you don't know me" who could also be referencing a song about being in love with someone who doesn't know, we could be looking at real movement happening between the two of them yk?
I don't know if this makes a lot of sense, but if you read this I love you 🫶
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mtkay13 · 2 months
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The peach blossoms are blooming
Lol @the fancy title, haha. Yesterday I promised "two hoboxu's today!" but I'm an inconsistant liar so the second is today and not yesterday, HAH.
Anyway, another painting of my very beloved; more about this piece below!
So aside of the obvious joke, what I really wanted to work on and represent on this picture is, as the title makes it clearer, grief, and what it looks like for ZZS.
The idea came from imagining ZZS setting off, happy with his disguise, and passing by a peach tree orchards and seeing all the peach blossoms blooming, and what it would entail.
...So let's talk about what TYK is about again, shall we?
(usual caveat: those are my thoughts and interpretations etc etc)
Little is known of the four years that separate the end of QY and the beginning of TYK. Even less is obviously stated when it comes to the reasons why ZZS has put in the nails, besides the obvious "requirement to leave Tian Chuang" part.
So, trying to leave all headcanons and other suppositions aside, and looking at what the text gives us, one of the main "storylines" of ZZS' personal journey across both books seems to be: dealing with the loss of LJX, first of their relationship, and later, of LJX entirely.
>I'm going to boldly announce that (I think) TYK is in great parts a story about getting over grief, or rather, properly living with grief.
Needless to say that it is clear that ZZS has a bunch of issues he's dealing with, including "the void after meeting your goals; what's next?" and some form of burnout from completely over-exerting himself and going way beyond what he thought he could sustain mentally; but also. Four years after he lost LJX, ZZS is still deeply grieving. Still seeing him in crowds, still thinking about him frequently, still hallucinating him, dreaming of him. He couldn't resist taking in ZCL because ZCL reminded him of LJX. Nearly every single thought of his own past ends up rooting back to LJX.
The first time he mentions LJX's name out loud in TYK, chapter 41, is the first time he mentions it at all in four years, and to quote the text:
Speaking out his name hadn't been that big of a deal, in the end; it had only felt like something had been pulled out of his chest—like he was now missing a piece, like it left behind an empty void.
(TYK ch41, TL by me)
The next scene is when it hits ZZS that he's going to die; from that moment on, ZZS starts feeling stupid, ZZS slowly starts wanting to find a solution, influenced by WKX... and the story culminates with ZZS making the opposite decision that he made in QY: instead of risking never seeing WKX alive again, and against WKX's decision, he goes to meet him, unlike LJX whom he was too scared to go meet, and lost forever without even saying goodbye.
>I think that ZZS essentially took the nails because he couldn't manage to live with that grief, basically. (I know, I KNOW there are other reasons, but for the sake of analyzing this theme, I find interesting to look at it from this angle; how the narrative shifts towards ZZS putting in the efforts to stay alive at the exact same times he starts letting go of LJX literally.) And then, as he learns, as he rediscovers life differently, the story becomes about getting free from the nails, about actially living with that grief rather than dying because of it.
*coughs* so, hum, yes. This is what I wanted to represent. What grief looks like, at this stage of melancholic, happy, self-deprecating acceptance of freedom through death—freedom of the burden of grief and guilt. It's a bittersweet feeling, but the way I see it, he smiles out of what he thinks is inner peace, resignation, and once again, self-deprecation.
I would go even deeper, in that ZZS' relationship to death with regards to LJX is quite complex and difficult, given how he was told by LJX himself that he ought to die for what he's done (or misunderstood LJX saying so), but that's a whole other can of worms and I don't have the brain juice to go there again (since it wouldn't even be the first time iirc). SO YEAH, again, grief, but ZZS style: turned into a bit of a melancholic, silly, but gentle joke, and with a smile on the face. On brand with TYK as well.
Cheers!
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valentine-writes · 9 months
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Hello hello! Been downright dying over how much I love your AtSV work!! So I thought I would feed into it >:) If you're feeling up to it, whats been brewing in your mind about The Spot x reader? Take it platonic or romantic, either has so much potential for fun in my opinion and I guess I'm just interested in what ideas you might have?? Not a lot to work off of from what I'm asking but I hope you're able to have fun with it anyways ^^; Whether youre able to get to this request or not, thanks for reading! Love what you do :)
collision.
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「 tws + notes: possibly ooc, unedited, he's kind of pathetic little meow meowified im sorry, first bit inspired by @//submurged-into-clouds !! <3 」
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↳ ft. the spot
「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」
author's note: first, AUWJHEJSBS thank u so much!!!! im glad u like what i've written so far– and i am SUPER excited to write for the spot becuz im gon b real,,, there was a momentary lapse of insanity where i was scouring for any content of him at all. SO TY 4 UR REQ!!!! ( /)u(\ ) i hope this is ok!!! i got carried away and stuff so,, i hope this is at the Very Least coherent! leaned for platonic stuff with romantic undertones that intensify throughout so,, read it how u like ^_^
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▸ we're going to start this by establishing that bro has literally No Friends anymore. you met him after the collider incident and by some miracle, some sort of mercy from a higher power in the multiverse– you ended up becoming friends with him
really, meeting him was an accident. wasn't supposed to be anything more– just him messing around with his new abilities and slipping into a random universe with no idea where he was.
and there was you.
just you. out, alone at night. just taking a walk– disrupted by someone falling out of a weird portal from the sky.
this is the day your paths crossed, the day your fates intertwined, the moment that your world collided into his.
to put more literally: the day he crashed into you very unceremoniously.
im now re-reading the title and remembering his backstory and giggling at my unintentional joke. he is not catching a break. even from me.
▸ after recovering from a random stranger from another universe tumbling into your own, you began to talk.
now– you don't remember how the conversation started, but you were glad to listen. the way which he rambled to you, words tumbling out of his mouth like they'd been on his mind for a while– you felt like he needed someone to hear him.
he's surprised. you're not bothered. not frightened. not even weirded out. but you're not indifferent. you nod along, you comment on things here and there– but you listen. you actually listen to him.
eventually, when he leaves, you're sat there for a moment. just frozen– processing whether that had really happened or not. you see the indent his body left in the grass where the two of you sat. it's evidence enough for you.
a few weeks pass and you're certain that you were just fated to meet once and never again. you were fine with this.
▸ until he randomly popped up in your living room one day.
yes, he had been actively trying to find your universe again– and as casually as he can be, is now peeking from out the portal he created, head leaning in to get a better look at you.
you're not sure how you can tell considering he has no face,,, but he's definitely smiling.
he waves to you, awkwardly, (noticing that you're just staring at him while not saying a word), "thought i would say hi, so– ...hi."
you blink at him tiredly. "dude, it's 6:30 in the morning–"
he's treating this like it's normal for people to just show up in your house. he missed you– and it's very evident.
▸ no matter what type of relationship you're in with him: you GOTTA set boundaries. being one of the only people who cares to hang around him anymore means that you're gonna be seeing a lot of him.
while he certainly hasn't completely lost grasp on the concept of privacy, it's definitely been altered by the fact he's got powers that allow him to pop up wherever he wants. he's just a teeny bit invasive.
"hello!" he'll greet, randomly poking his head through a portal he made to your bedroom.
on instinct, you throw the closest thing to you. he's just glad you reached for the pillow and not the alarm clock also at your arms reach on the bedside table.
definitely a good idea to remind him that if he wants to hang out, he should probably message you, and if he wants to show up at your house for whatever reason, he should give you a heads up.
he has nearly walked in on you changing. and has apologized a million times every time it's brought up. it fr keeps him up at night.
▸ everyone in his life leaving him def messed him up a bit. he can deny it all he wants, but he's terribly anxious that you're gonna grow tired of him and leave.
constantly like "oh my god what if they leave for someone who has a face" and itz like,,, boy,,,, stfu itz 3am
he needs reassurance, even if he never explicitly says. but you're kind to him. patient. you're pretty much an angel in his eyes.
which is why he feels comfortable texting u in the dead of night like:
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(im gonna b real i dont even know why i have this image)
▸ he's dismissed by most people around him– but you've given him your time. you've shown him that you care. he's doing everything he can to be certain you'll still care for him.
the random waves of "oh no but what if they hate me" hit him HARD. especially if he hasn't seen you in a while, if you take longer to respond to his messages, if you haven't been answering his calls– bro will jump to a conclusion
"hypothesis: they dont love me anymore :("
☝️🤓 SORRY HAKJWOENDOEND he would NOT say that. im just clowning on him itz a part of my luv 4 him </3
needs to be needed. wants to be wanted.
eventually you have a long talk about this. he's got a bit of an ego after realizing how much power he truly possessed– but you gently encourage him to let it down. a simple heart to heart. and while you're certain these things aren't going to dissipate with a single conversation, you've let him know he doesn't have to deal with it alone.
▸ physical contact is a need for him. bro's touch starved. he likes linking his pinky with yours or just intertwining your fingers together. if you ever let him rest his head on your shoulder or hugged him he'd actually have to fight tears. he hasn't been given affection in a while :(
▸ he doesn't really feel like he has to hide anything around you. he really doesn't have much of a filter when you're talking to him which makes for some amusing conversation. he finds your laughter the sweetest sound in the world– he likes making you laugh :] it makes him feel like he's accomplished something
▸ the alterations to his body have caused some weird little changes that most people don't notice. one of them most noticeably to you– he'd cold. not frigid or like icy, but a lot colder than normal people tend to be.
you first notice this when you're hanging out in your bedroom. you're sitting on your bed, while he paces back and forth, rambling about another failed villainous act
(you haven't questioned his whole obsession with villainy considering that he seems pretty harmless with what he's been attempting– no matter how much he tries)
"and then– ohh, and tHEN THEY JUST—" you notice how he's gesturing frantically, exasperated, annoyed– and out of instinct to provide some sort of comfort (or at least calm him down) your hand grasps his wrist
there's a moment of silence.
his voice dwindles into a more soft, subdued tone, watching as your fingers wrap around his wrist. "wh– if you wanted me to stop talking, you could've just... just said or...."
his mind is going blank, trailing off at your touch. he doesn't remember the last time someone has held his hand or even brushed up against him without freaking out.
"you're cold." you comment, now taking his hand between both of yours, as if you were trying to heat him back up. you don't meet his eyes, simply staring at his hand.
"oh– yeah, yeah, it's just– a thing with now. came with the holes–"
the sensation of your hands gently squeezing his shuts him up. you raise his hand to your lips and gently blow hot air onto it.
your brow furrows, nose scrunching up. "you're still cold..." you mutter, more to yourself than to him. quietly, your gaze returns to his face.
"does that bother you?" you ask him, after a beat of silence.
he shakes his head. your hands let go of his– but he quietly reaches back to hold it again.
"hold on a second. why don't you try again?" he suggests. you laugh softly, knowing it's obviously just an excuse. still, you humor him.
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platinumrosetail · 8 months
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Hi it me 🪿 sorry it took me so long work kicking my ass.
Can I have a yandere playtonic Millie , bilzto, stolas, Luna x female trun demon child reader
Where the reader got to hell cuz well I leave that idea to you and then Millie bilzto and stolas and Luna found them and is like my demon baby now and rise them
Sorry if anything is missing spells so many day at the ER. But I have a couple day's off for Much need sleep and relaxing and doing chores lol have a wonderful day sweetheart
Sure! And you’re fine. I’ll do what I can with your lovely request.
Warning: noob author, female reader, yandere platonic characters, and others.
Characters: blitzø, loona, millie, and stolas.
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Blitzø:
You were hypnotized by some magician like criminal to do bad things as the criminal thought that no one would believe a child do his deeds for him.
Well that ended up you dying in one of the crimes he had forced you to do and so you ended up in hell.
He met you when he was getting some food for him and loona.
He didn’t ask about how you’re here or where’s your parents if your were born here, he just took you with him to the apartment he owns, saying how you’re now his daughter which greatly startled you about how sudden he was about this decision without even knowing you.
He learned what happened while you were still alive and then grew overprotective as many demons who died in the human world is more powerful than the hell-born demons so he doesn’t want you to get used again like when you were alive.
He spoils you like he does with loona and buys you a lot of stuff, while he buys stuff he makes sure to buy a tracker just in case you go missing or get lost or other situations.
He’ll make sure you’re safe and sound, making sure to keep you close to him even at I.m.p office.
Loona:
You were kicked out of the orphanage and died stealing some food.
Loona was just walking down the street after getting a hell version of Starbucks when you appeared in front of her in your new demon form still a child.
She was shocked to see a child being in hell but anything is possible.
She decided to take you home which surprised her as she wouldn’t do it but you just seemed to spark her interest especially with how she knows how hell would treat a young child like you.
She soon learned your backstory and she kinda related but it looks like you got the short end of the stick unlike her.
She secretly likes that blitzø easily took a shine to you but doesn’t show it, she also gets you gift she thinks you might like like a wolf doll.
She’ll be overprotective of you when out and will bite off anyone heads who decides to try and mess with you.
Millie:
Your family were murders so being in their family made you go to hell after you had died unexpectedly young.
You bumped into her after you get sent to hell and she just couldn’t let you survive on your own especially since you’re in hell and won’t go far unless you know what you’re doing.
So she took you to her apartment she shares with her beloved husband.
Moxxie wasn’t expecting his wife to bring home a child but after being explained how you got here he caved in and soon became your dad.
She makes sure you have everything you need and teaches you everything you might need to know along with some things she learned on her family’s farm.
She and moxxie both take you to work so you know both blitzø and loona, sometimes you’d be babysat by them when the two wants alone time.
She’s overprotective of you as she is of her husband and would do anything to keep you and him safe and sound.
Stolas:
You actually accidentally summoned him when finding one of his more easier summoning rituals so you and him became friends as you were lonely with how you had no friends.
He took interest you and started teaching you things like math and other useful thing you might need in the future.
He decided that you were perfect to be his daughter and know that you would get along with Octavia but he worries on what Stella would do when she finds out about you so he’ll have to do something with her and soon.
The way he had you be taken to hell was possess you and kill your parents though that was a bit tricky as their always working but thankfully he figured out when they be off work and home.
After he had you kill your parents he made you kill yourself so you could come down to hell and be his child.
He already taken care of Stella and made it look like a assassination attempt on him but she was hit, thankfully his blitzy and his friends did a wonderful job doing it too.
Your young mind didn’t comprehend or remember how he had possessed you and had killed your parents and yourself which he was thankful for as he means you still see him in a good lighting even with the new demon look you had gain. You and Octavia got along alright, though she didn’t understand why her father did what he did but didn’t really question as everyone in hell is demons and there’s a lot of things that have happened so it was best not to question things.
(A/n: I hope you liked it 😁!! Also this person will only be the person that will be able to use the anonymous feature as I’m tired of all the people requesting something but not following my rule and I won’t be able to contact them, reason why only this person is allowed is because my friend knows them and can contact them for me so do please make sure to read my rules before you request thank you. Anyway hope y’all have a wonderful day/evening/night!!)
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