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skzdarlings · 2 months

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mine ; lee minho x reader

original ask: requested by @tattywood. “Can you please do ❛ you're mine. you've always been mine. ❜ with Lee Know? I just know you’ll come up with something amazing! 🩶"

pairing: lee minho/reader content info: another pair of star-crossed lovers lol. reader is kissed by a different guy without her permission. possessive sex. unsafe sex. lots of biting and marking and grabbing. word count: 3700 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

You finally escape.

When the date is over and your supposed boyfriend leaves, you run out the back door. Your parents are distracted, waving goodbye to your boyfriend as he pulls away in his expensive car. They chat between themselves on the front porch of the family estate.

“Such a remarkable young man,” they say. “So wholesome. So intelligent.“

So rich, is what they really mean. Because he is not wholesome; he is a bully and a bigot at the best of times. He derides anyone he deems beneath him, which is just about everyone. He is also not intelligent, as true depth of intellect is revealed in conduct. Someone that cruel and ignorant is not intelligent. You have engaged in more stimulating discourse with birds.

But he is wealthy. Your parents picked him for you and have been forcing the relationship along, contriving dates without telling you he will be there, inviting him into your home, encouraging his empty and shallow affection. You encourage nothing, sitting stiffly whenever he touches you: an arm slung around your waist, a hand on your lower back, a kiss on the cheek.

Maybe you were naïve to think it would not escalate before its time, that you could bear it cordially until his interest withered and died. Foolish. He is not here for you but your name. He does not care how you feel. He does not care if you want him. He wants the money and connections and power, sharing a bed with your parents through you.

Today he cornered you when you were alone. He backed you into the wall and kissed you. An unwanted kiss is a disgustingly slimy thing, all tongue and teeth and the bad, unfamiliar taste of a vile man’s breath.

Your whole unlived life flashed in your mind’s eye. Every second was irredeemably awful.

So you run. Out the back door, to the garage, weaving around your father’s cars. Your old bike is hooked on its rack and you lift it down with some grunting effort. You are dressed for a date, wearing a pristine ivory dress your mother picked, white lace stockings, and delicate flats. It is not the ideal outfit for riding a bike. It is a pretty but flimsy thing. Summer nights are warm but there is a crisp breath on the wind as the sun sets.

But if you stop for even a second, even just to change clothes, even just to catch your breath, then you will never get away.

You swing onto your bike and escape via the back lane. It is a long ride across town but your adrenaline propels you onward.

It is very obvious when you have crossed into new territory. Across the park trail and over the railroad tracks is a different world. The houses get smaller, more ramshackle, junk piled around the fully abandoned abodes. Even the lived-in homes have old trucks and rusted goods stacked on their lawns. It is a consequence of impoverished anxiety, hoarding in fear of one day having nothing.

Indeed, a very different part of town.

Your parents are probably furious they cannot find you, but they will assume you ran to a nearby friend’s house. If they knew where you really were, which friend you went to see, they would surpass furious and venture all the way into horror.

But they are far away now.

You feel nothing but relief as the air changes. You know it is the chill of a summer night as the sky turns blue, but it convinces you the air is clearer. You exhale and feel as though you are releasing a breath that you have been holding all day.

Your journey takes you to a familiar yard. You remember the first time you ever visited, standing so small and uncertain on the front steps, waiting for a kiss you actually wanted.

A kiss that never came.

You park your bike against the side of the house. You walk up the front steps on shaky legs, weak from speedy riding.

You open the screen door to knock on the inside door. While you wait for an answer, you fiddle with your appearance, adjusting any evidence of wind-swept dishevelment.

Oh, you are so nervous. You were so hellbent on just getting here, you did not register any feeling beyond determination. But now you are standing on this porch in your flimsy white dress, the sun set, the day done. You are doing something you should have done a long, long time ago and suddenly fearing you are far, far too late.

No answer comes. You knock again.

Your stomach forms a pit you hope you will eat you whole. Is he ignoring you? No. The windows are shut, the blinds closed. He cannot even see you.

You take a step back. Even with everything sealed shut, you should be able to see a hint of light. The house is small, a single story. There are only so many places he could be.

He isn’t home, you realize, first with relief that he is not ignoring you, then with dejection. Of course he’s not home, you tell yourself. What were you even thinking? Silly girl. Riding all the way out here, expecting him to be sitting around and waiting for you. He has a life of his own. He probably doesn’t even think about you. You’re pathetic.

You know you are being a little melodramatic. Your emotions have been running at an extreme all day. They finally become too much to bear. You sit down on the steps and cry.

Some time passes. You eventually calm yourself enough to wipe your eyes. You feel the cold more acutely now, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth.

You are not sure what to do now. You refuse to go home, knowing what awaits you. You have nowhere else to go. Your future is murky, which is still more comforting than the vision of it when your boyfriend forcibly kissed you.

You sigh. You know if you wait long enough, your friend will come home and help you. Even if he doesn’t want you, even if he can be a bit standoffish at times, he has the warmest heart you know. You met doing volunteer work, in fact. You know he will help you like he would help anyone in need.

It does not mean you do not feel pathetic, curled up and shivering on his porch steps. You are debating a course of action when a truck rolls into the yard with a flash of headlights and a noticeably hiccupping engine. It pulls around the side of the house.

You stand and take tentative steps to follow. You are still and quiet as the rough rumble of the truck comes to a wheezy stop.

The driver door flies open. He jumps out, cursing. Your breath catches and all your hypotheticals dissipate in wake of the reality of him.

Lee Minho.

He is wearing his old, dusty leather jacket, something of a signature piece due its reliability. His jeans are torn at the knee, likely a legitimate tear and not a fashion statement, his old work boots a bit scuffed. He is a working man of limited means and nothing functional goes to waste.

He is beautiful as ever. Dark hair falls across his forehead and he pushes it back with a forceful rake, the softer pieces fluttering forward again. He has an athletic frame, but delicate features despite his near-perpetual scowl. When he does laugh, it is a hilariously boisterous sound.

He is scowling right now. Cursing to himself as he stomps around the beat-up truck. He wears a carabiner with a bundle of emergency tools, grabbing a miniature flashlight to guide his way. He props open the hood and starts rustling around inside. He curses again, then he puts the light away so he can reach inside with both hands.

You do not mean to startle him. You thought he might have seen you, observant as he is, but apparently the truck has him distracted.

“Minho,” you say.

You cannot see him too well in the dark, but you hear the distinctive thud of metal as he undoubtedly smacks his head on the open hood. He curses louder this time.

There is a small light on the side of the house. You step towards it at the same time.

He is rubbing the back of his head, frowning, but he comes to a total stop when he sees you. His eyes widen ever so slightly, his brows drawn in confusion. He stares intently at you.

“Hi,” you say.

He just keeps staring.

“Um. I was just in the neighbourhood,” you say. “I wanted to see you. I hope you’re doing well.”

He drops his arm and it swings at his side. He continues to stare at you, the furrow in his brow more intense.

“Right,” you say. You feel a catch in the back of your throat. Fortunately, you have cried all your tears and will not make a fool of yourself in front of him. More of a fool, that is. You want to say so many things but you cannot think of a single word that suffices.

I missed you so much, you think. I think about you every day. Have you thought about me?

It sounds so clingy and pathetic. Your boyfriend derides such women and their neediness. Minho is not a man like that, though. He has never spoken so disparagingly about someone. You know that, but the words catch nonetheless.

You exhale a shaky breath, looking aside at nothing.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say. “I probably shouldn’t have come here. It’s been months since we last spoke. I know we’re not really friends anymore. I just had no where else to go and I…”

“You were crying,” he says.

You look at him. His expression has not softened. It is still that same scrutinizing stare. His gaze is intently locked on yours, on eyes that must show the evidence of your crying.

You wipe your face quickly, embarrassed. Your gaze lifts when he takes a small step towards you. He reaches for you, as if he means to wipe your eyes himself, but then he catches the sight of his own hand, covered in black grease from the truck.

“Shit,” he says, and snaps his arm back.

“Minho,” you say, your heart fluttering just from the suggestion he was going to touch you. A small touch from him means more than anything.

“Princess,” he says, an old affectionate nickname for you, though he speaks it rather dryly. He is still frowning. “Are you hurt?”

“Maybe,” you say. When he reacts physically, his shoulders stiffening, you quickly add, “Not like that. Emotionally, I mean. I just… I think I ran away from home.”

“You think,” he says flatly.

“Well, I didn’t really think it through, to be honest,” you say shyly. “I just… I couldn’t stay there anymore. You know what they’re like.”

He flinches as if the memory comes with a strike. You feel embarrassed, remembering too.

You and Minho became fast friends through your mutual volunteer efforts. You thought nothing of inviting him to a neighbourhood party at your parents’ house. He wore his nicest shirt and fresh pants, but as soon as everyone found out where he came from, they wanted nothing to do with him.

You are embarrassed to say you did not even notice at first, naively taking politeness for granted. He had to explain it to you, then you saw their two-facedness everywhere and felt horrible.

You stayed on his side of town after that, at least until your parents put their foot down. They didn’t want you developing feelings for that kind of boy. You insisted he was just a friend, even while already in love with him. His biting wit and good heart had you in thrall.

You were in denial about your parents being bad people. You wanted to believe they had your best interest at heart. They were just set in their ways. They wanted a good life for you. You told Minho to just give them time. He let you go. They introduced you to your new boyfriend the next day.

Minho takes a breath. He shoves his tongue into his cheek, looking pensive. You are thinking of something to say when he nods his head.

“You look cold,” he says frankly. “Let’s go inside.”

You nod, following him to the front steps. He grabs the porch rail and jumps the steps in an effortless swing. You shuffle behind him while he unlocks the door.

He says nothing, just nods at you. You follow him through, closing the door while he bends down to unlace his boots. He kicks them to the side while you step softly out of your flats. When you meet each other’s eyes, you feel a spark.

You stood in this very spot a few months ago, almost nose to nose, arguing about your parents and what to do. You knew, deep in your heart, the conversation was not about a mere friendship. You both had stronger feelings, but you were both scared to act on them given your precarious circumstance. He did not want to risk everything while you were indecisive. You wanted to keep everything.

You have lived a life of great privilege and you are used to getting everything you want. You have had to confront reality, that you cannot always have everything.

So, if you can only have one thing, you want him.

He looks at you with the same dark passion as then. Your heart skips beats under his intense gaze.

“You’re here,” he says. Maybe the same memories flicker through his mind. He tips his head, looking at you so closely, like he cannot believe you are real.

“Yes,” you say softly, clasping your hands in front of you. “I’m here.”

“To stay,” he says.

“If you’ll have me,” you reply. Your heart is beating so hard, it is a wonder he cannot hear it. Your legs feel even weaker than before, but this time is has nothing to do with bicycles and everything to do with him.

He swallows, his throat bobbing. He sniffs and looks aside while idly tugging his jacket.

“And your boyfriend?” he says, glaring at the far wall.

Your heart sinks. It is your turn to swallow.

“You know about that?” you ask.

He laughs, not that gleeful sound you know but a sharp cackle. He looks at you incredulously.

“Of course I know,” he says. “I don’t always stay on my side of the tracks. Sometimes,” he speaks with sarcastic wonder, “I get to repair houses for the pretty rich people.” He huffs, shaking his head. “It’s fine,” he says. “You should be with someone like that. He’ll give you the house. The car. I bet your parents love him too.”

“I don’t want those things,” you say, bearing his bitterness because you understand what he is feeling. You lift your chin and look him in the eye. “You’re right, my parents do love him. But I don’t. He’s shallow and unkind. And you—” Your voice catches. “You, Lee Minho, are anything but that. You are everything. And I… I love you. I always have.” You drop your eyes with this confession, suddenly overwhelmed with the sheer emotion pouring out of his gaze. “I know it’s been a while,” you say. “I don’t expect you to have waited for me. I just—”

He laughs again. It is still dry, but not so sharp. You glance at him.

“Princess,” he says. “Don’t tell me you seriously think I could just forget about you.” He shakes his head. “It’s like you don’t even know me. I should kick you out just for that.”

You realize he is joking, the faintest hint of something warm melting his scowl.

“I can’t give you that life,” he says seriously.

You step towards him, holding his gaze, pouring as much emotion back at him. He exhales, blinking quickly, long lashes fluttering as he looks at you.

“I have no idea what we’re gonna do,” you admit. “But I know I want to figure it out. With you. And no one else.”

He smiles and it makes you smile. Then he reaches for you, but stops when he once more remembers his dirty hands.

“Shit,” he says again, then takes a step back. “Let me just—”

You take him by the wrist and yank him towards you. He follows your guidance, his breath catching when you plant his hand on your hip. It will leave a big black stain on your perfect white dress, the shape of his hand in a possessive grip on your body.

It is more effective than any word. He swoops in and kisses you, his other hand cupping your other hip with the same deliberate possessiveness. You are certain this horrid little gown will be destroyed and you do not care one bit. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back.

“You’re cruel,” he says between kisses. “Torturing me for so long. I wanted to kill that man. But I thought he made you happy—”

“He disgusted me,” you say. “He kissed me without my permission today.”

“What.” That stops the kiss and he looks at you with that scowl again. “I’ll kill him,” he says without any hesitation.

You just laugh a gentle laugh, shaking your head. You twist a longer tuft of his hair around your finger, making his tense shoulders go soft as he leans in.

“You don’t have to kill him,” you say. “Just make me forget him.”

Oh, Lee Minho is such an awful tease all the time. Of course he goes back to just staring at you with a contemplative air, making you wriggle and wonder in his arms. You whine his name, trying to kiss him, but he dodges it. Your whimpering makes him laugh, because of course it does.

Then he gets very serious. Your heart sends a bolt of heat shooting through your body. Your thighs press together.

He presses his forehead to yours. You gasp when you feel his fingers on your back, the careful slow touch as he tugs your zipper down. The flimsy dress slides off your body as he steps back to look at you. You shiver, gazing back at him. His stare is unflinching as he peels off his jacket and tosses it aside. His hands are already much cleaner, the distinctive print of his palms still plastered to your dress. He wipes the rest on his own shirt then tugs it off and tosses it to the side.

He smirks and wiggles two come hither fingers at you, walking backwards. You follow him slowly, then give chase when he cackles and runs. You follow him into the bedroom where he literally sweeps you off your feet.

“And you say I’m cruel,” you tease.

He closes the door with a firm snap then leans you against it.

“You are,” he says. He looks down your body while running his fingers through his hair. “You are.”

Then he gets on his knees, first one while he tugs your panties down, then the other, when he hooks your leg over his shoulder and put his mouth on you. He does not tease anymore, swiftly finding all the ways to make you moan his name. You are scared your leg will buckle under you when he makes you come, but he holds you steady.

Then he stands up and cups your face, kissing you deeply, making you taste yourself on his tongue. It is a good kiss, everything a kiss should be, hot and hungry, slow and deep. It makes you tingle with aftershocks, blinking at him with delirious pleasure when he pulls back.

Minho can be loud, can be boisterous, can be scathing. He can also speak gently, in such a soft, light rasp. It makes your head spin. He speaks like that now.

“This is how it is,” he says, then kisses you again, licks into your mouth. When you moan, he moans back. “I make you sigh,” he says. “I make your pussy wet. I make you come. Just me.”

“Yes,” you nod, clinging to him when he carries you to the bed. “You, Minho.”

He lays you down, kneeling between your open legs. They are still quivering from your orgasm. He looks at you, hungrily, while opening his belt. He rips it out of his jeans and tosses it behind him, then unzips while leaning down to kiss you. He dives past your waiting mouth to kiss your throat, biting marks under your jaw, on your neck, on your tits. You grab his head, hands in his hair, arching your back under his desperate mouth.

“You’re mine,” he says. “You’ve always been mine.”

He holds your hips while thrusting inside you. You imagine his hands leaving a permanent mark, just like that stained dress, a claiming that forever marks you as his. He fucks you so steadily and deeply, holding you possessively, gasping your name and how good you feel while he takes you.

“Perfect,” he says in that dreamy voice, rubbing you softly while fucking you hard. It makes you come around his cock, clenching tight, which makes him moan into your mouth. “Mine.”

You wrap your legs around him. You lay chest-against-chest, holding each other. Your nails scratch his back, no doubt leaving your own marks, your whole body littered with his kisses and bites. There is not a single inch of you that is not branded by him.

“Yes,” you say. “Always, Minho.”

Saying his name sends him over. He comes inside you, claiming you even there, then stays inside you after while you kiss.

You stay in his arms all night, making love and sleeping then making love some more. When the sun rises, you wake to him holding you, stroking your cheek affectionately.

He kisses your forehead and you nestle comfortably against him, happy to be home.

#lee minho x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #skz x reader #lee know smut #lee minho smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #valentinesdaystories #tattywood

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raesploveart · 7 months

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Day 15 of sketching Elain Archeron EVERYDAY until her book has a release date.

I finished House of Sky and Breath today, and started this sketch as I was nearing the end. I had to imagine Azriel and Elain on a little trip to Midgard. So this is technically an AU of them in normal clothes. @alemonleaf being the genius she is, had the idea to have Az be tucking a little flower behind her ear and that’s why Elain is sticking her tongue out at him. I melted. They hurt my heart guys. 🫠😭❤️

Should I draw the whole crew in a modern day AU? Let me know on Instagram!

#fanart #acotar #elriel #azriel #elain archeron #acomaf #acowar #ACOSF #crescent city

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atomicladytimetravel · 8 months

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Look at You

Sequel to Look at Me

Summary: No outbreak au. Joel invites you over for dinner at his place and filth ensues. Basically just porn with a little plot. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. Technically could be read stand alone.

Slight exhibitionism, unprotected p in v, creampie, multiple orgasms (f), oral sex (m and f receiving), Joel being an absolute sweetheart.

Word count: 3,067

It was a couple of weeks before you would see Joel again. He was booked solid with clients, having to fit people in over the weekends to make it work. He promised that when he was free again, he would make you the best steak dinner you’d ever had. You texted and talked on the phone frequently and Joel quickly became one of your favorite people.

When the time finally came for the date, you weren’t nervous at all. You were just excited to see him again. You put on a simple skater dress with thin straps and a neckline that worked wonders for your cleavage and made the trip to Joel’s house. You knocked on his front door and smoothed the front of your dress down as you waited for him to answer. He let out a low whistle upon seeing you.

“Whoa, look at you. You look amazing.”

You smiled shyly and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Thank you Joel.”

He ushered you inside and straight to the dinner table where everything was already set out and ready. It smelled incredible and he was right - it was the best steak dinner you’d ever had.

After dinner, you sat looking out the window as Joel cleared the table. The sun was setting, painting the sky with various shades of pink, blue and purple. You stepped out onto the deck for a better view, leaning on the railing with your elbows. Joel came out a few minutes later and you turned to him with a smile.

“Whatcha doin’, beautiful?” he asked. He put his hands on the railing on either side of you and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Just looking at the sunset. It’s especially beautiful today,” you replied. He nuzzled your hair and put his lips to your ear.

“Not nearly as beautiful as you,” he said in a low voice. He moved your hair to the side and softly kissed your neck. You tilted your head and let out a soft “hmmm” as he continued peppering kisses on your skin. You turned to face him and he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you flush to his chest. He put his other hand on the side of your neck, his thumb gently caressing your jawline. He captured your lips in a tender kiss.

The way he touched you, the way he kissed you - it all felt so erotic that you couldn’t help but whimper. That only spurred him on and the kiss deepened, going from a tender kiss to a full blown make out session. His fingers tangled in your hair and he tugged, exposing your throat to him. You gasped, partially surprised and partially turned on.

“Shit, did I hurt you?” he asked, releasing his grip on your hair and looking at you with a concerned expression.

“No, sorry…just surprised me. It was hot, do it again.”

He smirked and repeated the action, kissing and nipping at the skin of your throat.

“You like that, huh? Like it when I’m rough?” he teased between kisses.

“Yes sir,” you breathed.

“Oh, good girl. You know who’s in charge, don’t you?”

“Y-yes sir,” you repeated.

“Good,” he said. His kisses moved out to your shoulder and he pushed the strap of your dress down your arm. He did the same on the other side so that the top of your dress was just barely covering your breasts. He hooked his finger in the neckline of the dress and toyed with the fabric.

“I haven’t gotten to see these yet. May I?”

You nodded and he pulled your dress down over your breasts. He groaned when they sprang free of the fabric. He cupped them in his hands and swiped his thumb over your nipples.

“Fuck, look at these gorgeous tits.”

He rolled your nipples between his fingers and a breathy moan escaped your lips. He kissed you again, one hand reaching around to squeeze your ass, the other massaging your breast.

“God I wanna go down on you so bad,” he said against your lips. “Taste that pretty pussy.” Kiss. “Make you cum with my tongue.” Kiss. “Would you like that pretty girl?”

“God yes.”

He grinned and kissed you one last time before getting to his knees in front of you.

“Out here?” you giggled.

“No one will see, don’t worry,” he assured you. He bunched your dress up around your waist and instructed you to hold it there. With his hands on your hips, he pressed soft kisses down your abdomen.

“Look at these panties,” he said, referring to the wet spot darkening the front of them. “So fucking wet for me already.”

He slowly drug your panties down your legs and when you stepped out of them, he stuffed them in his pocket. He grabbed your ankle and lifted your leg to rest it on his shoulder; you leaned back against the railing for support. He kissed the sensitive parts of your inner thigh and you tingled with desire, a tiny whimper of his name falling from your lips.

“What is it beautiful? Tell me what you want.”

“Your mouth…on me. Please,” you begged.

“Aw, baby, look at you - desperate to be touched.”

“Only by you.”

“That’s fucking right princess, only me. Such a good girl.”

With that, he licked a stripe up your slit and you shuddered at the sensation. He wrapped his arm around the leg on his shoulder to hold you in place as he buried his face in your pussy. His tongue circled your clit before prodding your hole and coming back to repeat the process.

“Joel, that feels s-so fucking good,” you moaned. His tongue flicked over your clit repeatedly and you cried out much louder than you should have. Neither of you cared. He wanted to make you scream, to let his neighbors know just how good he was making the prettiest girl he’d ever seen feel.

He swirled the tip of his tongue around your clit until your thighs were shaking and you were a moaning mess above him. Nobody had ever gone down on you this good before. Your hand gripped the railing beneath you so hard you thought it might splinter. You looked down to see him palming his hard on through his jeans as he moaned into your center.

“Oh god…eating pussy turns you on huh?”

“Mhmm,” he mumbled. “‘Specially this one.”

Whatever cheeky remark you had equipped left your brain when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. Your orgasm was approaching rapidly and you begged him not to stop what he was doing. He complied eagerly, ready to hear the sound of you cumming for him.

“Fff-fucking hell Joel, I’m cumming,” you announced. He kept your clit sucked into his mouth as you orgasmed hard. He kept sucking until you were cumming a second time. You grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged when you became sensitive, but he didn’t stop. He wanted to see how far he could push you.

“Oh god, J-Joel…’s too much…”

And then it wasn’t. Your third orgasm was so powerful, you had to clap your hand over your mouth to muffle the cries of his name. When he finally released your clit, your thighs were trembling. He gently lowered your leg and got back to his feet.

“You did so good f’me baby,” he praised, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Will you let me take you to bed, princess? Just wanna keep making you feel good.”

“Yes please,” you nodded, practically melting at his words. He took your hand and led you through the house to his bedroom. He helped you out of your dress and stood back, taking in your fully nude form for the first time.

“My god…you’re so beautiful. A fucking goddess.”

You blushed and looked away shyly. You had your insecurities, just like everyone else. On top of that, your ex-husband’s affair had given you the impression that there was always going to be someone prettier, someone better than you.

“C’mon Joel, I’m not - “

He cut you off before you could finish.

“Don’t you dare. You’re the most beautiful god damn woman I’ve ever seen. I’m not just saying that, I mean it.”

He closed the gap between you and kissed you tenderly.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you after what happened at your cousin’s. Why do you think I asked you out? The sex we had was great, yeah, but it’s not about that. If you asked me to stop right now, I would. And we would do whatever you wanted to.”

You wanted to cry. Joel was different. Even in the beginning stages of your relationship with your ex, he was never this kind. He wrapped you in a tight hug, your head pressed to his chest.

“Thank you, Joel,” you whispered. You looked up to meet his eyes. “But if you stop, I will kill you.”

He laughed and kissed the top of your head.

“Yeah baby? You still want me to make your pretty pussy feel good?”

“Yes sir,” you replied, dragging his shirt up over his head. It was your turn to admire him. His arms were muscular and his abdomen was mostly toned except for a little softness. A trail of dark hair disappeared into his jeans. You kissed his collar bones while looking up to make eye contact with him.

“You’re so fucking hot,” you said. You kissed down his body as you got to your knees in front of him. You started to undo his belt, but he put a hand over yours.

“You don’t have to,” he told you.

“Joel, I’m good at this,” you bragged. “Just let me suck your cock.”

He didn’t protest (how could he?) and you continued unbuckling his belt. He looked painfully hard when his cock sprang free of its confines. You looked up at him through your lashes and kissed his tip before running the tip of your tongue along the underside of his cock, causing him to suck in a breath. He was big, but you could take it. You gently suckled at the head a few times before sucking him nearly all the way in.

“Holy hell,” he moaned, his hand flying to the back of your head. You relaxed your throat and took him the rest of the way, your nose touching his pubic area.

“Oh fuck baby girl. Doing so good, got all of my cock in that pretty mouth.”

You hummed around him and bobbed your head back and forth, pulling almost all the way off before plunging him back down your throat.

“God damn, you really are good at this,” he complimented. You reached up and rolled his balls in your hand and he made a strangled “nggh” sound.

“Baby…oh fuck…baby you gotta s-stop,” he said, tugging at your hair. “Gonna make me cum quick with that mouth and I’d rather cum in your pussy.”

You pulled off him with an obscene “pop”, a string of saliva connecting his tip to your lips. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and he helped you stand up. He took your hand and led you to the armchair in the corner of the room; he sat and patted his thighs.

“C’mere pretty girl.”

You sat with your back against his chest and your legs spread on either side of his knees. He slid his hand down your body, teasing your clit with one finger.

“I just wanna play with it some more before I fuck you.” He kissed your neck, using his free hand to knead your breast. “I wanna take my time with you, make you cum over and over. Will you let me do that baby girl?”

“Yes sir, please,” you begged. He dipped his finger into your hole and drug it back up to your clit, using your arousal as lube to rub big, slow circles. You let your head fall back onto his shoulder, a satisfied sigh falling from your lips.

“It feels so good when you touch me,” you whispered softly, pressing a kiss to his jawline.

“Yeah? You like it when I touch you like this huh?” His lips were next to your ear, his voice going down an octave.

“Yes,” you whimpered. “God yes.”

He slid his middle and ring finger into you, then slowly pulled them out to rub your clit. He repeated this several times, tiny whimpers and breathy moans leaving your mouth.

“Please…n-need to cum. Please make me cum,” you begged.

“Shhhh,” he whispered in your ear. “I’ve got you baby. I’m gonna let you cum.”

He began to finger you slowly, curling his fingers with every thrust.

“Fuck…Joel, I’m so close.”

“Let it go for me baby. Lemme hear you,” he said, moving his fingers in and out at a much quicker pace.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried out, your hips rising. “I’m cumming so hard.”

“That’s it baby girl, cum all over my fingers.”

Just as he had been with his tongue, he was relentless with his fingers. He didn’t stop once you’d come down from your orgasm. He continued to finger fuck you until you came a second time, crying out his name. He pulled his fingers out and put them to your lips. You opened your mouth and sucked your juices off his finger, making him groan.

“I can’t take it anymore, sit on my fuckin’ cock baby girl. I gotta be in that pretty pussy.”

You stood and he opened his legs so that you could stand between them. He lined himself up with your hole and you sank down onto him slowly. He put his hands on your hips, guiding you as you bounced on him.

“Fffuuuck, I missed being in you. Thought about this pussy while I fucked my fist in the shower almost every night.”

“Oh my god Joel,” you mewled. No one had ever worshipped you like that before. It was sweet and erotic at the same time. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Mmm, fuck, so do you baby. Pussy’s so fuckin’ tight f’me.”

One hand reached up to tweak your nipple, the other going between your legs to rub your clit. You began bouncing harder, chasing the release that was approaching quicker than you expected. Joel knew exactly what to do - and what to say - to get you off in record time.

“I want you to cum for me baby girl, then you’re gonna get on that bed and I’ll fuck you so good,” he said in your ear.

“Oh god, Joel, I’m right there. S-so close,” you panted. He rubbed your clit furiously and you fell over the edge, white knuckling the arms of the chair.

“Joel, fuck, so - fuck! - so good!”

As you came down, Joel was kissing your shoulder and rubbing your hips with his thumbs.

“Did so good baby. Go lie down on the bed.”

You stood on wobbly legs and giggled. Your ex may have been good but he wasn’t jelly legs good.

“No one has ever fucked me so good that my legs shook,” you told Joel.

“Just you wait,” he smirked. You laid down and he grabbed a pillow.

“Ass up for me doll,” he instructed. You lifted your hips and he stuffed the pillow underneath you before pulling you to the edge of the bed. He stood between your legs and teased your clit with the tip of his cock.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty baby.”

Before you could respond, he slid his cock into you slowly, pushing all the way to the hilt. The pillow underneath provided the perfect angle for his cock to immediately find your g-spot. You gasped in pleasure and he pulled almost all the way out, pushing back into you as slowly as he had the first time. He repeated this a few more times, making you a whimpering, whining mess.

“Look at you princess, your pussy is just cryin’ for my cock. She’s so fuckin’ wet.” He hooked his arms in the crooks of your legs and abandoned his slow pace for a more steady one. He was hitting your g-spot repeatedly and you were not going to last long.

“Shit Joel, you’re gonna make me cum again.”

“Do it baby, give me another,” he grunted. He thrust harder and you saw stars as you came around him once, and then twice as he continued to pound into your g-spot. You shouted his name, fingers digging into the sheets.

“Fuck, I just came twice in a row.”

“Let’s see if we can make it three,” he grinned. He put his thumb to your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts and it wasn’t long before number three hit you. Your legs were really trembling now.

“Holy shit, I’m cumming so fucking hard. You’re making my pussy feel so fucking good.”

“Oh fuck yeah pretty girl. Gonna make me blow my load in your pussy.”

“Oh god…give it to me baby, wanna be so full of your cum.”

“Yeah? You wanna be stuffed with my cum? “

He was pounding into you relentlessly and you saw stars when a fourth orgasm overtook you. You were wailing and clawing at the sheets and Joel was right behind you, stilling his hips as he drained his cock inside you. A growl rumbled in his chest as he held you in place, his cock twitching inside you. When he pulled out, he spread your pussy lips to admire his work.

“That’s a real pretty picture right there,” he said. “Pussy’s all pink and puffy with my cum dripping out.”

You giggled, still trying to catch your breath.

“Holy shit, I think I came like ten times,” you noted. “I didn’t even know I could do that.”

“I just like to watch you cum,” he winked. He took your hand and helped you stand up.

“Let’s go get cleaned up, shall we? I can run us a nice bath.”

“That would be nice,” you replied.

Your legs were weak and you leaned onto him for support, which made him laugh a little.

“Shut up,” you said, though you smiled at him. “This is your fault.”

“Didn’t hear you complaining a minute ago,” he quipped. You grinned and cut your eyes at him.

“Touché.”

#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal #tlou hbo #tlou series #tlou smut #the last of us

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oozedninjas · 1 year

Text

Purple led lights

Summary: What was supposed to be a sweet date night wound up as a situation of lewd feelings and voyeurism. Dear Donnie, you fucked up big time.

Set on 2k14/16 verse

Donnie's 24 y/o

Fem!Reader

Warnings and story under the line. Only click on keep reading if you're 18+~♥

Warnings: NSFW / SMUT / voyeurism / dildo use / exhibitionism if you squint

-------------------------

There’s a strange fixation on doing something without being noticed. Or so he believed. Now, it posed a potential threat to all he had cultivated in his connection with you. The worst part? Donatello couldn’t bring himself to look away, suddenly hyper-aware of the light surrounding the scene: led purple, illuminating your naked body. His pupils dilated, absorbing as much of the image as he could.

How had the night unfolded into this? His original intent was innocent—a surprise visit to your home, armed with a trove of terabytes housing new films meticulously chosen to align with your tastes. A carefully planned evening, fueled by the desire to elevate the relationship to a level he had yearned for so ardently: the tender press of his lips against your own.

Alas, his meticulously crafted plans were thrown out the window when upon entering through your balcony, you were nowhere to be found.

Next thing he knew, Donatello was wandering your apartment, driven by that curiosity that drives new lovers to know more of one another. Soon, he found himself in your room, your scent filling his lungs, blurring for a minute his common sense as he opened your closet. Donatello grabbed your clothes and sniffed into them, allowing the intoxicating aroma to fill him.

Just at that very moment, he heard your voice humming something outside of the room where he was invading your privacy. Panic shot through his body, sending his anxiety levels to the sky. The only thing he could think about was hiding. Well, not that there was time to do more than that, anyway. When you opened the door to your room, he had finished closing the closet door, locking himself inside.

True. He put himself in this awkward, arousing, and incredibly wrong situation.

You had turned on your led lights and set them on purple. Your hands caressed the buttons of your shirt, expertly unbuttoning them so the cloth could fall out of your body, and you went on removing every other garment on you until only remained a small turtle necklace.

His first thought, –aside from guilt– was that you were utterly ravishing, breathtaking, stunning. The way your nipples hardened to the feeling of cold, made him weak. You pulled out a device from your drawer. Donnie quickly recognized it as a dildo.

He felt a hot weave hit his cheeks. Donnie suddenly felt the need to fidget so to release the uneasiness he was feeling. He resolved to play with his fingers would be okay, since there was no space to do more.

You took a seat on the edge of the bed, holding up the seemingly plastic dildo. You licked a stripe on it. His hand flew to his mouth when he heard himself gasping, and for a moment there, Donnie thought you’d hear him, so he waited, closing his eyes, squeezing them, and holding his breath hoping not to get caught.

A few seconds passed before he heard a vibration sound, followed by a small whimper. Donnie took a deep breath and made himself look through the slot in the closet door again.

You were laying on the bed, butt naked, caressing your neck with the small device, sliding it down to your chest, your face twisting into a delicious frown that talked about how nice it felt to have it navigating your sink.

Donatello sighed, wishing to replace it with his hand. The desire grew stronger when you drove it close to your hard nipple and pressed over it. A loud moan escaped your lips. Electricity ran through his spine.

Donnie's heart was beating so fast he was surprised you hadn’t heard him. It beat faster when driving the toy lower. The vibration filled the room, along with your small whimpers.

By that very moment, his crotch was already killing him. It was painful to feel the pressure of his dick in his pants. It felt weird to have such a low instinct awakened by an action that was completely fucked up, but for some reason, that thought made it even more arousing.

Was he a bad person? Surely. Disgusting? undoubtedly. But everything had happened so fast, and Donnie could swear he did not come into your place with bad intentions, he just wanted–

“Donnie,”

He froze, eyes widening in disbelief. Did you moan his name? He surely must have misheard, yes, that was–

“Like that, right there…” You closed your eyes, moaning softly, pushing the toy inside you. Now the vibrations sounded different, and so did his name when you cried it out one more time: so desperate, so inviting that Donnie almost threw his self-control off the window and came out of the closet.

Almost.

Instead, his hand moved to his crotch, stroking it lightly as he bit his lower lip so as not to moan. His breathing became heavier, despite his attempts to keep it down. Donnie's eyes narrowed when fisted his cock, pre-cum already sliding down the tip. He used the liquids to lube his shaft, making small movements that were intensifying with every passing second, with every moan leaving your mouth.

“Donnie… more,” you whimpered as you took one finger inside your mouth and sucked on it. “Fuck me.”

Your voice started to echo throughout the room. “Fuck me deeper,”

He increased his pace. Wet noises filled the small closet. He grasped one of your clothes to drive it close to his nose. Gosh, the sounds his dick made embarrassed him endlessly as a pleasant, familiar feeling coaxed in his lower belly.

“Make me come…” you moaned “Donnie please… please,”

He saw you elevating your hips, your head falling back as you came long and loud. Donnie bit his tongue while waves of pleasure spread through his body, roaming it as he came all over your closet door.

The delight was so intense he couldn’t help to lose his balance, and in a desperate attempt to stop himself from falling, his hand flew to the front, seeking support in the door, but small closet doors were not made to hold up a mutant’s weight.

Before he could do anything, the door swung open, and Donnie stumbled out of his hiding spot, dick still in his fist.

“What the fuck?!!” you screamed, contracting your legs toward your chest in an attempt to cover yourself up.

All traces of arousing left his body at once. The only thing he could focus on was your shocked expression, gaze stuck in his cock, realizing what he was doing. Donatello wanted the floor to open up and swallow him right then and there.

Instantly, he knew it: he had entirely fucked up everything.

#donatello bayverse #tmnt bayverse #tmnt smut #tmnt 2k16 #tmnt 2k14 #donnie smut #donnie #donatello hamato #smut

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sidekickjoey · 1 year

Text

"Hi Chrissy."

Sitting in the cool grass in Hawkins Memorial Cemetery, Eddie watches quietly as the sun shines down on the stone before him. Radiant is the only word that comes to mind as it glistens and stands tall. Then again, no better word could've described Chrissy Cunningham when she was on this Earth, or her smile. It's fitting it would also apply to her grave.

He picks a nearby dandelion and rests it at the base of the stone, just below an engraving of a sunflower - her favorite, he's learned. A few of the fluffy white seeds float up and wisp around the carved petals, giving it life. Motion. It makes Eddie smile.

"I'm sorry I've been sorta' shit about visiting ya'," he says after a moment, a shy little drawl to his voice making him sound quite endearing. Forgivable. "Wayne and I just moved into our new apartment last week and the whole moving in thing's wrecked us. Did you know that man had even more mugs hiding in storage? At least thirty, the maniac!"

He imagines Chrissy's own smile at that one. Sure, she had been scared out of her mind the night she entered his trailer, but Eddie can never forget seeing Chrissy's eyes comically widen at the sight of Wayne's collection of various mugs from around the globe. Most people do as such - even Wayne on some occasions, when he's tired and not prepared to remember his own expensive vice.

Eddie's finger traces the sunflower.

"I wish you could see the place. It's a lot cleaner and bigger than our old shit hole at Forest Hills. Plus, it's got this super big backyard with a tree that I'm thinking of putting a hammock under. I think it'd be a nice spot for writing songs. Isn't that just something, Chrissy?"

A brush of cool air past him has Eddie believing that yes, it is.

He picks another dandelion. Blows the seeds her way.

"I've actually got another something to tell you," he hints, waggling his eyebrows to no one. "It's even crazier than us having a whole house to ourselves, Wayne and I. It might've actually just about blown your mind if you were still around. It's been blowing mine for the last few days, if I'm being totally honest."

The sun brightens on Eddie's back. He takes a deep breath. Steadies himself.

"I, uh...I'm dating Steve Harrington."

The sun continues to shine.

The cool breeze returns.

Life goes on.

Eddie releases his breath.

"I hope you're not like, rolling in your grave below me right now," he chuckles, voice tight and nervy. "I know I'm the biggest hypocrite ever for falling for him, a known jock AND popular kid. It goes against pretty much everything I've stood for or yelled about at lunch. But, it's kind of like what you said about me, Chris. He wasn't what I thought he'd be like. He isn't."

He's way more, as a matter of fact. So much more that it hurts sometimes for Eddie to think about. Makes him question how he got so lucky to meet him, really meet him, in the first place.

"I wish you could see it for yourself," he says softly a minute later, now tracing her name with his pointer finger. "You two probably would've been great friends. He likes sports and doing his hair and goofing around. He's also weirdly good at baking. You were in the baking club, right? I swear I saw you selling gingerbread cookies before Christmastime. The little ones with the candy canes? Right?"

No one answers, but something in Eddie's bones makes that assessment feel right. He looks up to the sky, lets the sun soak into what skin isn't covered up by leather and denim for a minute, and imagines the dreamworld he described. He imagines Chrissy side-by-side with Steve in a kitchen, maybe with Robin if she stuck around or visited during college. He watches them as they get too messy, covered in flour and sticky from dough and icing, and smiles at the fact none of them seem to care. They're all so proud of their work and wanting Eddie to try everything. He can practically hear their laughter, their joy, their lack of care or fear as he does. He lets himself drown in it, just a little. Basks in it.

Stares back at Chrissy's grave seconds later with a piercing twinge of sadness.

Grieves.

Whimpers "You should be here still, Chrissy" to the stone.

Sniffling, he tries to laugh away the tears that have suddenly appeared like a tidal wave. It does no good, though. Not even the sunshine, the beautiful stuff that usually makes Eddie feel so seen and comforted, can whisk them away now that they've begun. He grips tight at his thigh. Desperately tries to ground himself.

"Steve's been reminding me that there was nothing I could do. Says I've been placing too much blame on myself for it all. Maybe I am. It's just that..." he takes a deep breath, "shit, I hate that you were the one made an example of in all of this mess. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to stop it and protect you from Vecna and the Upside Down and all that horrible crap you had no reason to be swept up in because of me. I'm sorry you can't be here and getting your own new boyfriend, or your own degree. I'm so fucking sorry."

A full-on sob hits Eddie then, knocking him off whatever ledge he had been teetering on right into a pit of anxiety and bottled-up sadness. It renders him shaky and a bit blubbery, and as another sob gears up in the pit of his chest, he starts to feel guilty he had shown up in the first place. If he'd just kept his news to himself, hadn't let himself dwell on all the milestones Chrissy would never reach, maybe he would've been okay. Maybe he would feel a little less broken, a little less wrapt with survivors guilt, a little less-

"Hey."

Eddie flips around in a fright to find himself face-to-knee with Steve Harrington.

The boy's face is gentle when he finally works up the courage to meet it. It's the same gentleness that had been there the first time Eddie confessed to wanting to visit Chrissy, and the same that had coaxed him out of the car when his nerves got the best of him. It's also the same that had gazed upon Eddie when he confessed to having a crush, and when he proceeded to say he'd be fine if they never spoke again because he gets why that would not be happy news to hear.

His gaze is somehow never pitying. Always achingly empathetic.

It tears another sob from Eddie.

Carefully, Steve sits down at Eddie's side and wraps an arm around him. His hand soothingly begins to rub up and down Eddie's arm, grounding him the best he can. Eddie leans into it. Hopes Chrissy is okay with having their private conversation shared. Sobs again.

"Hi Chrissy. I dunno if you knew me, but I'm Steve."

Eddie shuts his eyes and buries his face into Steve's shoulder.

"I'm sure Eddie probably already told you, but we're...we're a couple now, so I hope you don't mind me intruding. I know uh...I know he's kinda private about this stuff."

He means Eddie's feelings about Chrissy's death, about Chrissy in general. The whole lot of it. Eddie knows it in an instant - feels the way Steve's grip nudges them closer together in understanding.

"I'm not sure what you were chatting about, but I have something to tell you if that's alright."

Steve pauses.

Bless him, he pauses for the answer that won't come.

Eddie could - no, plans to love him forever for doing something like that for his sake. For Chrissy.

"He's been pretty torn up about you. We all are, but...well, it's hard. I've been through this four times now and that first time is still a lot to think over. But...uh, Robs told me that in movies, ghosts are always like, torn up and stuff about people being sad they're gone. Want them to live their life to the fullest. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm gonna make sure our guy here does that. For you."

Blinking up from Steve's shoulder, Eddie sniffles. "W-What?"

"Yeah," Steve says, keeping his eyes on the stone. "I'll make sure he has reasons to smile and...and reasons to get through the hard times. I'm gonna' be there to remind him what all that's like, okay?"

"Steve..."

"And I know it won't be easy, but...I think it'll be good. For all of us. Ya' know?"

Tears threatening again, Eddie places a small kiss to Steve's cheek. He feels Steve's grip bring him in even more, almost keeping Eddie in his lap. Comforting him. It's more than he could ask for.

The sun shines on him. Eddie feels it again - wills it to help.

"I can't do it all on my own, though. I could use a little divine intervention here and there, if you could spare some."

Eddie almost corrects Steve. He almost says ghosts aren't divine, how that's reserved for angels and God and stuff. But, on second thought, he figures if anyone from Hawkins was granted an angelic afterlife, Chrissy probably was first in line.

Instead, he listens to the beat of Steve's heart.

"But, I'll try. We'll both try. We promise."

"Y-Yeah," Eddie hiccups. "We promise."

Steve smiles into his hair.

"Got anything else you need to say, Eddie? Or do you want to go grab milkshakes somewhere before we head back to your place?"

Blinking his bleary eyes back open, Eddie gazes at the tombstone. Commits it to memory. Pictures Chrissy giggling and telling them to go have fun.

Really, who is he to tell her no?

"Yeah, I think we're good here," he says, finally. He nods once more to Steve and lets him pull him up to his feet, the shaky thing he is. His arm ends up around Steve's waist as they give a final look to Chrissy, and for a moment, he wonders what she must be thinking. He wonders if she is grateful for their promise, or if she is wishing she could have a milkshake with them, too. Eddie hopes, wherever she is, she can go grab one. Enjoy with them, and above them. He'd like that.

And, after today, he thinks Steve might, too.

They hold each other's hand tight as they leave the cemetery.

They hold hands even tighter when Eddie gets a tattoo of a sunflower the very next day.

#stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #ficlet #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #st fanfic #st4

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myeuphoricmindset · 8 months

Text

Haunted by you | Eddie Munson

Summary | Eddie Munson's ghost is haunting the house recently occupied by Daisy Morgan. Having been deceased for years, Eddie becomes visible only to her. As she adjusts to sharing her living space with an otherworldly presence, their relationship develops into a compelling yet forbidden romance between the living and the dead. But, how could that ever truly work?

Pairing | Eddie Munson x OC

Warnings/Tags | 18+ only, Strained parent relationships with significant focus on maternal issues, Themes of feeling unwanted and abandoned are central, Cheating -though not involving Eddie Munson or the main character, alcohol and drug use, Profanity, Sexual content, and Mental health themes.

Fic Notes | This fic is set after the events of Stranger Things season 4. Seven years have passed, and everyone has moved forward since the defeat of Vecna and the closure of The Upside Down. This story won't revolve around Vecna or The Upside Down. While there might be occasional appearances by other Stranger Things characters, the narrative centers on normal life, void of supernatural plots except for Eddie's ghostly presence.

I don't have a fixed posting schedule, but I'll aim for weekly updates. I might post more frequently, but I'm keeping the dates flexible for my mental well-being. Rest assured, I won't leave this fic unfinished.

Word count | 4k

Read on ao3

August 1993

Embedded within our very DNA is the innate longing for maternal love and acceptance. When that love is withheld over time, our minds adapt, convincing us that we can do without it. However, a persistent yearning for that inherent love remains, a constant reminder of the void that's meant to be filled.

Even in death, Daisy’s mother couldn't find it within herself to love her daughter. Grace’s final moments weren't filled with apologies or declarations of affection for Daisy; instead, there was only a will assigning property to her.

With a chuckle, Daisy twirls the keys around her finger, amused by Grace's belief that a house could mend the chasm in her heart. It’s a testament to how detached she was from what love between a mother and child should be.

For the past six months, Daisy has been stuck in limbo, her presence tethered to this seemingly senseless house following her mother’s passing. Today, at long last, she clasps the keys in her hand—a significant stride towards ending this dreadful chapter of her life. Whether driven by resentment or anger, Daisy raises her middle finger to the sky, smiling with satisfaction as she bids farewell to Grace.

In the parking lot, a few passersby cast concerned glances her way as Daisy releases a breath. It's not just any breath; it's a sigh that unburdens her from a lifetime of pain. The ache will persist, but it no longer shackles her to Grace; now, her mother can only haunt her dreams. And she will take that as a win.

A huge smile is plastered on her face as she walks to her car and calls her realtor. The line rings twice before she hears his eager voice on the other end.

"Hello, Ms. Morgan."

"Walter, it's all set. You can move forward with putting up the for-sale sign. I'll send over the necessary paperwork soon. ” Daisy says.

"Absolutely, ma'am. Sounds great.”

“Oh, I’ve also turned on the electricity under my name while we work on getting it sold.”

“Wonderful. I'll arrange an open house for next weekend."

This house holds no appeal for her; it seems Grace hoped to tether herself to Daisy through the property. The faster it’s sold then the faster she can move on with her life.

"Thank you, and please, call me Daisy."

"Certainly," he replies apologetically.

She gives him a kind smile, almost as if he could perceive it through the phone, and says goodbye.

Music blares as Daisy speeds out of the lawyer's parking lot. Her sunglasses shield her eyes from the summer sun, her brown hair wiping in the wind, and her engagement ring glimmers brilliantly as her hand tightens on the steering wheel.

Things are finally looking up.

She planned to stop by the bridal store and try on her dress for the last fitting, but she could do that tomorrow. She just wants to relax at home with Nick and watch Pretty Woman. Maybe even recreate the bath scene, singing Prince while drowning in bubbles. That’s a perfect night.

The apartment's lights are on even though her fiancé isn't due back until seven.

"Nick?" Daisy's voice echoes through the apartment as she opens the fridge, her mind set on preparing dinner. A craving for pasta, rigatoni specifically, with grilled chicken, mushrooms, and onions fills her thoughts, her stomach voicing its approval with a rumble. Unfortunately, they are completely out of chicken and pasta. Wonderful, just wonderful.

Luckily, their apartment lies within walking distance of one of Nick's favorite Chinese restaurants. The prospect of takeout lifts Daisy's spirits as she heads to their bedroom to ask Nick if he wants his usual Kung Pao chicken.

The sound of the shower greets her before she enters the room.

"Nic—" Her words halt as her gaze falls upon the disheveled bed.

What in the world? The comforter hangs askew and pillows litter the floor in disarray. It’s an absolute mess and she could have sworn she made the bed this morning like she always does.

Before she can call Nick's name once more, noises emanate from the bathroom. Daisy cautiously pushes the bathroom door open. The sight before her is surreal: Nick and his coworker Mia are in the shower together. His hand rests on her thigh, the same hand that's wiped away Daisy's tears. His lips pressed against her neck, the same lips that proposed to Daisy. Mia's moans fill the air, reminiscent of the sounds Daisy herself has made. Her mouth goes sour at the sight.

Daisy remains rooted in place as if observing the scene from outside her body.

This can’t be happening.

Time slows as Nick becomes aware of her presence, the shower door flinging open, Mia futilely reaching for a towel, and Daisy retreating.

Nick's voice calls after her as she assembles a small bag. She can't answer, gripped by a numbing shock. The room's movements feel surreal, and Daisy navigates it like a phantom, a silent specter swallowed by her own detachment.

Pushing the front door open, the summer air snaps her back to reality as she approaches her car. Nick's voice recedes as she leaves him standing, towel wrapped around his waist and their shared future at his feet, symbolized by a single apartment key.

“Daisy!”

Betrayal is no stranger to Daisy, but it doesn't blunt the pain of misplaced trust. A sense of foolishness washes over her, as Nick held the secrets of her past, her vulnerabilities, her fears. Tonight he reinforced her sense of being an unwanted burden.

It’s too much to bear. She has to get the hell out of here.

Hawkins lies eighty miles from Indianapolis. Unintentionally, Daisy found herself heading north on Interstate 65, steering aimlessly while her thoughts were lost on autopilot. At some point during the drive, Daisy stopped for gas and picked up McDonald’s despite lacking any appetite. She mechanically consumed it, then pulled over on the highway only to throw it all up. All of this occurred while she was in a haze, unable to recall the process. She moved through these actions like a mere shell of herself. Reaching a new city without a memory of the journey ignited a surge of panic within her.

Daisy wasn’t just in Hawkins, Indiana; she found herself parked outside her mother’s house, now her very own. Mixed emotions surged within her as her hands tightened around the steering wheel, her focus unwavering on the imposing iron gate adorned with the “Morgan” insignia.

She will never admit that she'd memorized the route to her mother's house. A house she never intended to visit. It was always decided after the accident that she would never contact Grace again, but it gave Daisy a sense of control knowing where her mother was and not doing a damn thing about it.

Until now.

She would have driven to Sloan's place, relying on her childhood best friend's kindness to give her a place to stay while she figured out what to do next. Sloan had always been there, a constant pillar of support. But, tonight was not the night to ask for support. Sloan happened to be attending a significant work event with her girlfriend, Robin at her side. Months ahead of time, she had planned a stay at a luxurious hotel for this very evening. Even on a subconscious level, Daisy understood that intruding upon their special night wasn’t an option, even when her own life was unraveling at the seams.

Left with no other options, Daisy finds herself in an unexpected predicament—having to accept help from her mother, the last thing she ever wanted. Daisy understands her mother's presumed satisfaction in the afterlife, and it's a painful realization. Even though the house was hers, the idea of depending on Grace’s help for her own well-being bothered her, making her upset. She was meant to sell the home and ever step foot on the property.

It felt like her mother had won, even though the game ended when Grace died. But Daisy reminded herself that the stay isn't indefinite; it's just a temporary solution until she figures out her next step.

Her hand trembles as she inputs 0527 on the keypad. Time seems to freeze for a moment, and Daisy holds her breath. The tension snaps as the gate loudly creaks open, breaking the silence.

The driveway stretches, winding its way around towering trees and clusters of flowering bushes. Daisy remembers the land from before the house was built—a trailer park with families that got wiped out by a natural disaster in ‘86. Grace saw the chance, bought the land, and replaced the trailers with a mansion. The families from the Forest Hills were paid to leave, a deal they took because their homes were falling apart. They didn't have many options and didn't want to end up homeless. Most of them did not have insurance to take care of their homes and Grace paid more than they could ever offer.

One person with too much money took over a place that used to be home to many families. Instead of helping them rebuild, Grace paid them to go away. Daisy wonders about those families and the kids who used to play here; their laughter once echoed between the trees and now it’s silent. Hopefully, they managed to reconstruct their lives using the resources she provided.

As the sun set, its light bathed the house, creating a gentle radiance along its edges. The home stands on a grand scale, boasting windows that envelop both the lower and upper levels. Despite only being built seven years ago, Grace held a deep appreciation for history and it shows in the architecture. The Victorian-style home was crafted in a manner that exudes the aura of centuries past.

The focal point, the entryway, is crowned with two grand wooden front doors, standing tall and imposing, their well-worn elegance inviting all who visit. Ironically, Daisy can only assume that visitors to the house were few and far between during Grace's time.

Effortlessly, the key slipped into the lock, and upon entering, Daisy’s bag dropped onto the wooden floors, the sound reverberating through the expansive, vacant house.

"Hello?" Daisy's voice echoed through the space, although she knew well that no one would answer.

Still, she waited for a reply that never came—only the structural creaks and the soft hum of air circulating through the vents persisted. It was eerie, but at least she was not on the streets and the house itself was undeniably beautiful and fully furnished. Daisy had to admit that Grace possessed a talent for home decor. An artist at heart, Grace's creative vision shone through, not just in her painted canvases but also in the ambiance of her house.

Daisy admired the exquisite crown moldings that decorate the ceilings, intricate panels adorn the walls, and ornate chandeliers cast a warm, gentle glow. It was inviting even if she didn’t feel welcome.

Stained glass windows, with their kaleidoscope of hues, scatter fragments of sunset light. The grand staircase, an artful masterpiece that anchors the foyer, leads to the upper floor, its handcrafted banisters a tangible testament to the commitment to the minutiae.

All of it was stunning. It’s hard to believe that Grace was living in this while Daisy endured nights on a couch, lacking a proper bedroom, in a family that seemed indifferent to her presence.

She debated unpacking her bag but was overwhelmed by the day's events. She wanted to take the edge off, to forget. She figured Grace might have left some wine in the kitchen. Grace was rarely without alcohol nearby.

The kitchen was pristine. The house staff, paid ahead of time, had maintained the house and yard even after her death. They hoped to impress a new owner. Daisy wondered what they'd think when they saw the for sale sign at the end of the weekend. She couldn't worry about that now; it might push her over the edge with all that’s on her mind.

Daisy tossed half-empty wine bottles into the trash and found a corked bottle on the rack. She wiped the dust off a Pinot Noir named Goldeneye.

Never heard of it, but it’ll do.

“Aha,” Daisy muttered with satisfaction as the cork popped.

Holding the bottle, she walked to the living room. Taking a hefty sip, she hoped the wine would numb her. The smoky black cherry flavor lingered on her tongue. The house was quiet. Daisy kicked off her shoes, drank some more, and collapsed onto the couch.

"Fuck," Daisy muttered, looking around at her situation. Emotions surged, and she used the wine to drown them.

“Fuck!” She shouts into the emptiness, fighting tears.

Amidst denial and disbelief, laughter bubbled up, an unexpected reaction to her turmoil. Could this really be happening? Maybe it was a terrible nightmare, and she'd wake up soon. She gulped down more wine, trying to steady herself. She pinched her arm, in a desperate attempt to wake up, but the pain was real. She choked back a sob with alcohol.

No, Daisy told herself, forcing herself off the couch. Sulking wasn't the solution. What did she need now? Besides wine, music. Daisy searches the living room and it doesn’t take long for her eyes to spot the record player sitting pretty on the oak table behind the couch. The vinyls are displayed perfectly on a shelf. Daisy’s fingers brush the stack until she comes across Tell Mama by Etta James.

With steady hands, Daisy placed the needle down in the record, and the resulting music gently cradled her frayed nerves. She’s thankful she paid to have the electricity turned on or she would have been sitting in the dark.

For the first time in hours, a smile graced her lips as she raised the half-empty bottle, playfully spinning around the room.

“Sing it, Etta,”

The house came alive with echoes of the music. It felt different, there was a shift in the air.

But a sudden whiff of smoke caught her attention, and she slowed down. She frowned, puzzled.

Was that the smell of cigarettes?

It couldn't be. Chalking it up to the wine's effect, Daisy walked to the window and opened it, welcoming a draft of fresh air. She was beginning to feel hot and that was a sign that she’s had too much too quickly.

Examining the bottle in her hand, she was met with a shocking sight that widened her eyes—within its brown-tinted glass, a man leaned against the wall, arms crossed, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

The sight paralyzed her momentarily, her scream of terror overpowering the music before the bottle crashed to the floor.

Dizziness engulfs the room, and she clings to the couch for stability. Her gaze shifts to the spilled wine staining the wooden floor, and then swiftly looks up to find the man.

But, he's gone.

"Who's there?!" Daisy's voice trembles as she retreats toward the kitchen, tripping over her own feet in her haste.

The music persists, accompanied by the lingering scent of smoke. Daisy snatches the phone off the hook, her fingers fumbling with the buttons as she struggles to dial 911.

"Get out now! I'm calling the police!" Daisy's voice wavers as she shouts, her unease palpable.

As she waits for the line to ring, Daisy stretches the phone cord to its limit as she reaches for a kitchen knife.

There is no ringing. The line is dead.

Daisy's heart sinks, and her face slumps as she presses the numbers again in frustration.

No. She forgot to set up a new landline under her name.

“No!” Daisy's exclamation filled the room.

A voice emerged from behind Daisy, “You can see me?”

Daisy spun around, stumbling backward. The same man stood over her with a confused look—a figure both captivating and haunting.

He was taller than Daisy, lean and lanky in build. His dark, tousled curly hair framed his face, the locks falling gracefully over his forehead and partially obscuring his eyes. Those deep brown eyes gazed down at Daisy with curiosity.

“Get back!” Her knife trembled as it rose toward him. “Get out of my house!”

His lips curled up as he leaned down, his face mere inches from the knife's tip. His gaze shifted from the knife to Daisy's widened eyes.

“You’re in my house, sweetheart.”

Without hesitation, Daisy thrust the knife into his neck.

A gasp escapes her lips as she realizes what she had just done.

But there is no blood, no cry of pain from him. The knife left no mark.

The man straightened, appearing unaffected and unperturbed. His fingers brush over his neck, and he examined them. A laugh erupted from him as he confirmed his lack of harm. The sound of his laughter startles Daisy. She struggles to comprehend how the knife had passed through him as if he were air.

“Impressive, but you have to try harder than that,” He remarked.

Daisy recoiled, her veins flooded with an icy rush, as he moved through her and vanished.

Through her... he had walked through her as if he were the wind rustling the leaves in the trees.

What the actual fuck is going on?

Gasping for air, Daisy struggles to catch her breath, her attempt to regain composure falling short. Her chest feels constricted, as though it might collapse under the weight of her racing heart, while her head continues to spin with disorientation.

This is it. She’s going to die.

In the same house as Grace? Hell no. The thought of that alone has Daisy scrambling to her feet.

Her eyes dart around, and he is nowhere to be found. A surge of adrenaline has her running to the front door. There is a phone in her car. She just needs to make it there and call 911. I’ve got this, she thought.

Daisy didn’t turn around once she made it out the door. She’s seen too many scary movies and they never survive when they slow down to check their back.

She closes the car door with a strong thud, locking it forcefully. Her phone is in the glove compartment, rarely used. It’s a new addition, and she isn't entirely used to having a phone on the go.

With shaky fingers, she dials 911. The operator's voice on the other end is a lifeline, reassuring and guiding her. The calm instructions provided a semblance of order amidst the panic that threatened to engulf her.

Dispatch is en route to her location and that helped Daisy breathe a little easier. Following the operator's directions, Daisy remained in the safety of her car.

She settled into the driver's seat, eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of the intruder who had shattered her sense of security while she waited for the police to arrive. The absence of the man did little to quell her unease; if anything, the tension remained palpable, coiled within her like a tightly wound spring.

Time seemed to stretch as she waited, every passing second laden with apprehension.

The flashing lights of the approaching police vehicles pierced the darkness, casting an eerie glow on the scene. Relief mingled with lingering fear as Daisy watched the law enforcement officers spring into action. Even though the immediate threat might have dissipated, the aftershocks of the intrusion still reverberated through her, leaving her on edge.

As the officers began their investigation, Daisy recounted the harrowing encounter, her voice shaky but resolute. She cooperated with their questioning, hoping that their presence would help dispel the lingering shadows that had taken hold of her mind.

However, the man who had broken into her home remained elusive. Even though the immediate danger had passed, Daisy couldn't shake off the feeling that she was being watched, which kept her on edge.

As the investigation reached its conclusion, Daisy's version of events started to unravel. No signs of forced entry, no trace of an intruder—her story seemed to be falling apart.

Doubt crept in, exacerbated by the officers' questioning of her sobriety due to the spilled wine and the discarded bottles. Frustration surged within her. They didn’t believe her. Of course they didn’t.

Internally, Daisy wrestled with the wild scenarios her mind had conjured in the heat of panic, like the memory of stabbing the man who simply walked away unharmed and how he disappeared in thin air. She kept these details to herself, focusing on the central truth: she had indeed seen a man, an intruder.

“Perhaps the alcohol took its toll and played tricks on your perception. We've all been there before, Ma’am. It's understandable,” the officer offered, his tone laced with a well-intentioned reassurance.

“No, that's not what happened!” Daisy's frustration surged forth. Her voice held a mixture of anger and determination. “I had maybe half a bottle. I’m not intoxicated. I saw a man, and he was in my house.”

A glance exchanged between the officers told Daisy all that she needed to know, and now her patience is wearing thin.

This day had tested her resilience. Her emotions teetered on the edge of tears, a precipice she was desperate to avoid.

Hold it together, Daisy. Tears will only add to their assumption that you’re insane.

“We're here to help, Ms. Morgan. Let us accompany you inside,” The officer suggested kindly. “It's getting late and about to rain.”

Walking back inside, Daisy's thoughts were a whirlwind of disbelief and vulnerability. As she stepped in, the house no longer felt safe. The officers' presence was comforting, yet it couldn't hide the truth: Her space had been invaded, not just by a stranger but also by doubts that made her question her reality.

“We've checked your home thoroughly. There is no one here. I can promise you that. Now, If you come across anything else suspicious or unusual then give me a call. Here is my card.”

The officer hands over the card, offering well wishes for the evening, then heads towards their car and drives away.

Daisy lingers in the doorway as rain begins to fall. She wonders if she’s losing her sanity—could she have imagined everything? Doubt sneaks into her thoughts like an unwelcome intruder, picking at her beliefs. Yet, the uncomfortable sensation in her gut persists, a reminder that things aren’t right. Her emotions converge, forming a bubble of anger in her chest. She’s tired of looking like a fool.

With a forceful slam, the door shuts behind Daisy as she enters the living room, her steps heavy and furious. She scans the room, finding it empty and shrouded in silence. The music has stopped, leaving only the wine stains as the only reminder. She scowls, her eyes fixed on the red-stained wood.

“Where are you?” Daisy’s voice reverberates through the room in a shout.

No response.

“Show yourself! I know you’re here.”

Silence. Total silence. Daisy’s face glistens with dampness, and she wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand. The tears, once contained, now break free like a dam bursting open.

Daisy pulls out her cell phone, her vision blurred by tears and sobs catching in her throat. With shaky fingers, she dials ten digits, and amidst the ringing, she eases down the wall, finding herself on the floor. Even though she doesn’t expect an answer, hearing Sloan’s voicemail gives her a small sense of comfort.

“Yeah, you reached Sloan. Leave a message and maybe I’ll get back to you.”

A loud beep sounds, and Daisy takes a moment to collect herself. “Sloan,” her voice quivers, “I need you. Please call me back when you can.”

Daisy draws her knees close to her chest, enveloping them with her arms as she lowers her head. This, she acknowledges, is her lowest point. Here it is, the culmination of losing her fiancé and her sanity, all within a single night.

Daisy’s attention is grabbed by a heavy sigh, causing her to look up. Everything in her freezes. There he sits, on the counter’s edge opposite her, absently twisting the ring on his finger.

“You know, there’s something about a girl crying,” he murmurs, drawing a breath before slapping a hand over his chest, “It just tears me up.”

Though his words carry a genuine tone, his eyes hold an elusive expression she can’t quite place. Daisy remains frozen, her gaze locked on him.

Their eyes meet, and he speaks softly, “You’re killing me, Daisy. And I’m already dead.”

Chapter two coming soon

Masterlist

Taglist:

@eddiemunson4life420 @boxofsmittens @sweet-villain @all-time-otaku @enam3l @steveoswhore

#eddie munson x original character #Eddie Munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #Eddie Munson fanfiction series #Eddie Munson ghost #eddie munson x female oc #eddie munson x female original character

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toasttt11 · 27 days

Text

“date?”

October 21, 2021

Sebastian ran a hand through his wet hair having just gotten out of the shower, he put on a pair of sweatpants, a brown hoodie and a back jacket over and slipped a pair of shoes on. He walked out of the bathroom seeing Luke laying on his bed on his phone.

Sebastian walked over and tapped his leg, Luke looked up and swallowed slighty seeing Sebastian’s wet hair but shook the thought away, “Are you going somewhere?” Luke questioned.

“Yes, now get up.” Sebastian replied making Luke look at him confused and Sebastian just fondly rolled and put his hands on Luke’s waist and easily picked him up and off the bed.

Luke stumbled slightly as Sebastian set him down, “Still hate you can pick me up.” Luke playfully glared at his best friend and Sebastian just smirked back.

Luke slid on his shoes and jacket over his hoodie, “Where are we going?” Luke questioned as he slid his phone into his pocket and started following Sebastian out of the dorm room.

“You’ll see.” Sebastian simply anwsered as they walked down the stairs and through the house to the front door, Sebastian held the door open letting Luke walk through first before shutting it behind him.

They walked to Sebastian’s car as Sebastian quickly opened the passenger door for Luke, Luke gave him a suspicious look before getting into the car. Sebastian closed the door and walked around the car and into the drivers seat and started the car.

Sebastian handed his phone to Luke, Luke started scrolling through Sebastian’s music and picked a song.

Sebastian started driving and Luke happily kept his eyes on Sebastian the whole time.

Sebastian drove them for about fifteen minutes away from the school and pulled into a small little parking lot, “Stay here.” Sebastian gave Luke a playful stern look and Luke nodded watching as Sebastian hopped out of the car and walked up to the small pizza shop.

Luke was on Sebastian’s phone looking through his music when he accidentally swiped off the app and saw Sebastian’s home screen. It was a picture of the two of them, off the ice and their arms around each other’s shoulder and they were both smiling at the camera.

Luke let out a shocked breath and smiled fondly, Sebastian may not say it but if you paid attention enough you can tell when Sebastian cares for something and Luke paid more attention to Sebastian than anyone ever has.

Sebastian hopped back into the car with a pizza in his hands and handed it to Luke, Luke gave him another puzzled look but Sebastian just shook his head smirking.

Sebastian started driving them about five more minutes before he pulled off to the side of the road, he parked them right at a look out spot letting them see the town and the night sky full of stars.

“What are we doing Sebby?” Luke questioned looking at him suspiciously.

Sebastian fondly rolled his eyes at his Luke, who never has any patience, “Come on.” Sebastian gestured to outside as he grabbed the pizza from Luke.

Sebastian and Luke hopped out the car, Sebastian walked to the back of the car opening up back door and revealing what he did to Luke, he had put down the third row in the car and brought blankets and pillows and set it all up in the back door the car.

Luke felt his face and heart soften at how sweet Sebastian was for all of this, “Thank you.” Luke sweetly smiled at him.

Sebastian nodded giving him a tiny soft smile before hopping into the back of the car setting the pizza down and holding out a hand for Luke to grab.

Luke hoped into the car and reluctantly released his hand from Sebastian before he sat down next to him and kicked his shoes off and quickly got under the blanket, Sebastian did the same as Luke and then put the pizza box on his lap opening.

Luke happily hummed as he picked up slice and started eating it. Sebastian picked up a slice as well and started eating as they both looked out at the stars. Sebastian scooted close to Luke and let Luke lean his shoulder onto Sebastian’s.

“You know you must be a good date.” Luke commented hiding his jealousy at the idea of Sebastian on a date.

“I wouldn’t know.” Sebastian simply answered and grabbed another slice.

“What? What do you mean?” Luke looked at Sebastian looking extremely confused.

“I haven’t taken anyone on date nor have i been on date.” Sebastian told Luke.

“Ever?” Luke questioned trying not to think about how happy that made him.

“Just hook ups.” Sebastian simply replied, he never wanted an emotional connection with anyone and very rarely did he even want a physical connection, Luke has always been enough.

Luke looked away to hide his giddy smile, as one Sebastian has never been on a date and two Sebastian did this for him and had never done anything like it for anyone else.

Luke made a happy sound and cuddled up more to Sebastian, he smiled wider feeling Sebastian wrap his arm around his shoulder.

Sebastian mindlessly started playing with Luke’s curl not even noticing he was doing it but Luke noticed it.

The two laid there for at least a few hours, some of the time they talked about random stuff and most of the time they just cuddled in comfortable silence.

Luke yawned and could feel his eyes dropping, Sebastian noticed and gently shook him awake, “Come on let’s get back.” Sebastian softly spoke to Luke, He hopped out of the car first and slipped his shoes on first and grabbed Luke’s shoes for him and handed them to Luke.

Luke slid his shoes on and was so tired he barely even realized that Sebastian helped him out of the back of the car and walked with him to the passenger seat, Luke sat down in the seat and Sebastian buckled him up before shutting the door and walking around and into the drivers seat.

Sebastian turned the radio almost all the way off as he started the drive back to school.

Sebastian stopped at a red light and looked over seeing Luke fast asleep against the window and Sebastian felt himself soften looking at Luke.

Sebastian shook his head and continued the drive back, he parked into a parking spot and looked over seeing Luke completely fast asleep and knew that he wouldn’t wake up.

Sebastian got out of the car and walked around not worrying about all of the stuff in the back as he can clean it up tomorrow, he opened the passenger seat gently and caught Luke’s head that was using the window as pillow, Sebastian unbuckled Luke and gently picked up.

Sebastian felt Luke shift and burry his head into his neck and let out a soft sigh, Sebastian carried Luke into the house and up the stairs, down the hallway and into their dorm.

Sebastian gently set him down onto his bed, he slipped Luke’s shoes off before covering him with the blanket.

“Night Lu.” Sebastian mumbled.

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baeklination · 6 months

Text

Blue Filter

Date: 231109

Warnings: SMUT 🔞, blowjob, general fucking, slight fetisch

Pairing: Natural Sub Baekhyun x F. Reader

WC: 1,4k

NOTE: Story 2 of Theme BAMBI (yes, a day late). The fetisch isn't anything real freaky. My thinking is they haven't been dating for too long.

Masterlist

¤¤

Pressing your pillow into a ball, you savour the pre-dawn stillness with its cool air kissed by the moisture of summer rain. If you didn't hear the drops against the trees you'd hardly know it was raining at all, so masked it falls from the light grey sky into the blue filter of morning.

Today, there's no need to fret; gone are the days which have you thinking "just one hour more", leastways for another two weeks. Should you get up? Be that person who catches the day starting with a strong cup and digging in the garden before sun-up? Should you go back to sleep, comforted by knowing you've got plenty of time and no one to judge you? Or maybe you could-

You prick up your ears. That car you heard far off is closer - much closer. In fact, it's grinding the gravel on your driveway…

You get up to see if they figure it out themselves or need directions (the Lindegaard's house is obscured by vegetation but not far from yours - guests are always trying to go there), but peering out you're taken aback. You look closer, make sure. It is him. Why is he just sitting there?

Whatever he's up to, it's cute, and stepping into some slippers and putting on your macintosh, a flurry of butterflies is released inside your body. Just as you open the front door you see the car backing out; perplexed, you hold up your arm in somewhat of a wave and it comes to a halt.

He looks caught out, but rolls down the window when you get close.

"I thought that was you."

He smiles awkwardly, fidgets with the steering wheel. He's embarrassed.

"I couldn't sleep. I went for a drive and…ended up here, I guess."

"You guess? Were you leaving just now?"

"I know it's not cool to just show up, that's why I was going."

"Without saying hello?"

He laughs, obviously more relaxed.

You're so precious, I can't take it.

"You don't wanna come in?"

His mouth pulls to the side, his eyes zigzag.

"Yeah."

The silence isn't awkward.

This early in the morning silence could never be awkward.

Skipping artificial small talk comes naturally, as if the honesty so prevalent during night still lingers in your house and walking straight to the bedroom - him following without a word - is only the truth.

When you sit on the bed you're comfortable. Baekhyun, he's…hesitant.

"Are you okay? Nothing's the matter?"

"No, I’m okay." Licking his lips, he bites at them, smiles shyly, and looks down, as if he's got something on his mind. "I'm okay. Just…"

You can't help smiling at his timidity, caress the hair behind his ear.

He breathes out quickly, in place of laughing, and throws a glance at you. When you sink to the floor and put your hands on his thighs he undoes the button and zipper of his trousers, then raises himself up so you can wiggle them to his ankles. You only have to look him in the eye for him to breathe deeper, trying to keep calm amidst the suspense. For all his mannerism there is nothing coy about the way he presents; resting against his white shirt in a pink hue, his hardened cock doesn't apologize.

Kissing along his inner thighs makes him hold his breath. When you put your mouth to his balls he stutters, trying to maintain his composure.

Putting his length to your lips, you slide down halfway, slowly sucking at the head as you come back up.

"Uh-h…"

His stomach fills with air from his breath - the deeper you take him the bigger the inhale.

"Don't let me make you come-"

"Ahh, you will…", he mumbles when you press your thumb under his balls, but doesn't stop you from swallowing him again. "Ahh…"

Thick and juicy, with a continuous stream of pre-cum, Baekhyun's cock is a grown-up's candy; sweet, addictive. The fact that he doesn't realise what he's got makes him even more attractive. The fact that he doesn't seek to dictate the terms. He's grateful for the opportunity of having himself inside your mouth, for feeling the pressure of your lips around him. With the rubbing of your thumb he's forced to loosen his restraint, crumple the covers in his hand, moan dazily.

"You're gonna…"

Even though you're the one who wanted the warning it's not easy letting him out of your mouth.

Taking off his shirt, Baekhyun moves further up on the bed with his cock twitching from eagerness and feverish eyes, waiting for you to join him.

His lips are plush. It's nice to just kiss for a while; make out. His fingertips are smooth as they make their way from your back to your waist. Softly bucking upward, he lets his length press between your legs. Moving your underwear to the side you push back, down - he stutters, but takes a firmer grip around you and raises up. On your fluids he slides in easily, excites your entrance, fills you up.

Moving his hands to your cheeks, he holds - parting them slightly - and slowly rounds his cock into you. Even though his kisses are full, his attention is divided; moving his hands to feel the fabric against his knuckles, trying to sneak a peek, he shyly admits:

"I like when you have them on…"

"Naughty boy…"

He almost shivers, laughs, then presses his lips hard against yours - a way to escape the embarrassment.

Even though being called out seems to tickle him, you're not sure how much he'd be comfortable with so when you sit up to let him indulge in the view, you close your eyes, turn to your own enjoyment.

Dipping and raising slowly to make sure he gets an eyeful means you get the sensory effect of the most delicate teasing as his length confidently squeezes as deep as it can.

Dropping your head, bouncing a little faster gets Baekhyun trying to control his breathing, but he fails in keeping his muted moans in check while you feel the tips of his fingers pressing on your thighs.

You don't want him to come just yet so slowing down, circling, you lean forward again and kiss him. With a hum vibrating on your lips he places his hand on your cheeks again and starts clapping, keeping the thrusts short but still soft. He breaks the kiss to breathe. To just feel. His head presses back in the pillow, his eyes drowsily close.

"Ah……."

The way he moves lets you balance on the line of climbing; just shy of it, you're able to enjoy where you are and not chase an orgasm.

Reaching up, he kisses you twice - shallow and juicy - and looks at you with such innocence, panting while whispering his request.

"I wanna come in you…"

His girth pressing your walls aside gets in the way of words; a moan is enough. His eyes light up, chest heaving.

"Yeah?" He takes an even firmer hold of your cheeks and thrusts harder. "Oh-hh……..chh…….."

Filling his lungs, letting his mouth drop, his jaw quivers,

"Now…I'm-hhh, ah!...mh!", pressing you down, he grinds, billows, flexes that jaw. Unlike his previously timid nature he lets out a long grunt and pushes himself deep, making sure every drop ends up inside you. "Aah……aagh, aagh……."

Letting his body relax, he slumps down on the pillow, brushing away the hair from his dampened forehead, blinking into the ceiling. Just when you wonder if the shy boy has vanished you catch him stealing a glance of what he likes; the way your underwear are shifted to the side and his still rigid cock buried inside. He breaks into the sweetest smile when he realizes you've seen, then pulls you to lay on his chest - yelps when it causes overstimulation - and puts his arms around you.

The cool air eventually feels cold on your back so you pull the sheet up. Cosying up further, purring contentedly, Baekhyun speaks quietly like the morning:

"Did I wake you up when I came?"

"Um, no, not really. I was between sleeps, or deciding if I should go back to sleep."

"And..?"

"I don't know. Not get up. You?"

"Well, I didn't sleep all night, remember-"

"So sleep?"

"Mm…", he hums and hugs you tighter. "Sleep."

●

#baekhyun #baekhyun smut #BBH-NET #natural sub Baek

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cheesy09 · 1 month

Text

[CN] Kiro's Four-Leaf Clover Date

🌸 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date that hasn't been released on the EN server yet! 🌸

[Note: This date was translated with the help of Google Translate :>]

Do note that this date takes place just some time after Kiro's Soundwaves Mind's Quest :>

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 1]

February 13th, 4 p.m.

I push open the door to my house and sneakily poke my head through the door crack to look around.

MC: Kiro...?

Seeing that the living room is still quiet, I breathe a sigh of relief and pull in the trailer of express delivery behind me.

Taking in the small mountain of express delivery and shopping bags, I roll up my sleeves and briefly put them in order.

MC: Ingredients, cola, decorations...

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. After having just returned from Los Angeles, we decided to spend the holiday at home, having a big meal and watching a movie together.

But even so... I was still keen on preparing some surprises for him to make the day more special.

So before he got off work, I asked for leave and snuck back.

Looking at the stuffed refrigerator, I elatedly pick up a few of the express boxes and walk towards the storage room, ready to hide them first.

At one step away from the storage room, a panicked silhouette suddenly flashes down from the second floor. I shiver in fright before I finally take a look at the person gasping for air in front of me.

Kiro stands in front of me wrapped in a bath towel, his slightly heaving chest still dripping with water droplets. His hair appears half wet, as if he was only halfway through washing it.

MC: You - Weren't you supposed to be filming tonight? Why are you back?

I feign composure and quietly hide the express box in my arms behind my back and press it against the wall.

Stunned, he awkwardly rubs his forhead.

Kiro: Finished work early and came back. What about you? Didn't you say you had to work overtime today...?

MC: Ah! My meeting was temporarily canceled... But I was afraid of interrupting your shoot, so I came back without telling you, haha~

At that moment, Kiro seems to notice something and looks behind me.

Kiro: What are you holding behind you?

MC: Oh, it's nothing, just a parcel. I was planning on putting it in the storage room.

I move to open the door, but Kiro suddenly grabs a hold of my wrist.

He seems to be taken aback by his own reaction for a moment. He then slowly lets go of my hand and scratches his head with a dry smile.

Kiro: Wait, do go in just yet... Uh, it seems like a super invincible insect ran inside!

He feigns a horrified expression and gestures to me about the "body size" of the insect to be the size of a fist. I immediately shrink my neck in fear.

MC: Are you serious? That's terrifying....

Kiro: Of course. It looks terrifying as well.

Kiro: So give me the boxes. Once I'm done with it, I'll put them in for you.

Seeing him reach out to take away my box, I immediately duck away and point to the small balcony with a smile.

MC: I'll put them on the small balcony by myself~ You can go finish off your shower. You won't feel good if you catch a cold later.

MC: Just take your time taking care of the bugs~

Kiro: Don't worry, I'll quickly take care of it and then go wash off. Otherwise, if I leave you alone with it on the first floor, you'll definitely be scared.

MC: All right!

The very next second, we each scurry away in separate directions.

Kiro runs into the storage room with a bang, and I return to the door and hide away all the remaining "surprises" on the small balcony.

In order for it to avoid being discovered, I throw several plastic covers on top of it.

In the distance, I hear the sounds of ping-ping-pong-pong come from the storage room, as if a fierce battle between human and insects is taking place.

Kiro: DON'T MOVE, LET'S SEE WHERE YOU CAN RUN TO!!

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 2]

Boom..!

With the festivities of the Spring Festival still ongoing, clusters of fireworks bloom in the night sky.

Considered that he'd unexpectedly hindered my plans, I tentatively decide to wait until he falls asleep to put my plan into action.

But with the fireworks being so loud, such an environment doesn't seem very conducive for a peaceful slumber...

Wanting to see if he's asleep, I open my eyes to sneak a peek, but am unexpectedly met with a pair of sparkling orbs.

Kiro: Are the fireworks too loud for you to sleep?

MC: ...Yeah.

MC: And you? You seem to be in a good mood...

After I give a wry smile, I see him turn around and grab a pair of earplugs from the bedside table. He puts one into my ears.

The tight touch instantly fills my eardrums, quietly dissipating the sound of fireworks in the distance.

Kiro: I'm not sleepy, but I do want to be a good and energetic boyfriend tomorrow.

Kiro: So I've gotta go to bed early and recharge my batteries~

I chuckle and point at our other lonely ears.

MC: What about the other ear? How about I go to the living room and find another pair of earplugs.

Kiro: By the time to come back from your trip, the bed will get cold again...

He wraps his arm around my waist and prompts me to lie face to face with him, pointing at our ears that are pressed to the pillow.

Kiro: We'll just use physical noise reduction so that we can watch each other sleep without irritating our ears. Kill two birds with one stone.

And just like that, we smile and gaze at each other in this quiet world until our eyelids start to droop.

So as to not fall asleep, I press my fingertips into my palms and rehearse in my mind the surprise I would give him.

But when I open my eyes again, the clock on the bedside table has silently moved a few paces forward. It's almost dawn.

My eyes widen in fright, my heart beats rapidly, and I gasp... I almost overslept.

While I'm glad that I managed to wake up in time, I quietly look at the person next to my pillow. His long and even breaths fall softly by my ear, telling me that he is peacefully asleep.

I breathe a sigh of relied, slowly pull away his palm and tiptoe out of bed.

Looking at the slippers on the ground, I hesitate for two seconds and decide to go barefoot.

This way I don't have to worry about waking him up~

Soon, I come to the small balcony and quietly open the express boxes one by one.

Picnic blanket, star lamp, bear pendant, projection cloth, projector... After confirming that everything was in place, I take out the USB flash drive from my bag.

Knowing that it contained the "love montage" that I carefully edited with him in mind, I am unable to keep myself from shaking it with joy.

MC: Hum hum, just wait till I sweep you off your feet, Kiro~

I pick up the projection cloth and the projector and walk into the yard. The fireworks outside had long since stopped, and there wasn't a hint of silver in the sky.

By the light of the flashlight I placed on the lawn, I carefully set up the venue for the outdoor screening.

MC: It's a good thing that we haven't picked up Apple Box and Cello from Savin's place yet, or else they'd have been barking and meowing next to my feet...

Perhaps due to how quiet it was, I couldn't help but talk to myself.

At that moment, by the light of the flashlight, I catch something swaying in the wind. I bend and squat down curiously.

MC: Is this... a four-leaf clover?!

Looking at this legendary "lucky" symbol lying in a tuft of grass, I reach out my hand and gently stroke it with joy and astonishment.

MC: Strange, why is this here in the yard?

MC: Did Apple Box secretly bring it from outside and then it took root here?

Just as I plan on waiting for Kiro to wake up and share this "discovery", I suddenly feel something in my heart and start laughing.

Then, I take the bear pendant from the decoration and place it next to it, marking the spot.

MC: When it get's brighter, I'll share it with him in a better way~

Saying this, I stand up, clap my hands and walk towards the storage room, ready to take out the tent and set it up.

But as soon as I walk to the door, I am suddenly reminded of something and my fingertips fearfully stop on the doorknob.

The bugs... he should have taken care of them, right?

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 3]

After mentally preparing myself several times, I slowly push open the door and turn on the light - and the very next second, I am left stunned in place.

The sweet fragrance of flowers washes over me, making me feel like I have seen all of spring.

The room is filled with neatly arranged flowerpots, and the blooming flowers sway in the wind, just like a Monet oil painting.

The humidifier placed in the corner kept spraying water mist, blurring my vision again and again.

Looking at this sea of flowers, I almost forget that this storage room was once covered in iron shelves.

In my prolonged state of shock, someone suddenly hugs me gently around the waist and pulls me into a warm embrace.

Kiro: I didn't expect you to find out...

Kiro: My plan was to secretly move them to the yard tomorrow.

Kiro: Then I'd appear like a magician again, and tell you that spring was coming~

He mumbles, not seeming to be fully awake yet, and yawns several times while talking.

Looking at this sea of flowers, the scene from yesterday comes to mind again. His hurried figure and unnatural voice all seem to bear answers at this moment.

Turns out that this person also prepared a Valentine's Day surprise for me.

Suddenly, a hint of sweetness fills my heart. I turn around, smile and wrap my arms around the back of his neck.

MC: I wondered why you were acting a little strange this afternoon... So you were afraid that I'd find out in advance?

MC: You can just tell me directly. Even if it's not so perfect, I still like it a lot.

Kiro: Are you talking about me? Aren't you the same?

He half-closed his eyes and touched his nose against mine.

Kiro: What were you doing in the yard in the middle of the night? I saw you "jumping up and down" out there through the cracks in the curtain.

MC: Eh? Did - did you see it all?

Kiro: Yep, there was a projector and a star lamp...

Kiro: MC, did you prepare a grand family outdoor movie for me?

Watching this person guess a lot of it at once, I deliberately pout.

MC: Unexpectedly, we didn't manage to hide out surprises from each other. How do I "salvage" this...

Kiro: No need to ask, of course. I'll arrange the rest with you.

Kiro: Are you here to pick up the tent? I put it in the guestroom when I packed it up today. Come on.

MC: Now? Don't you want to sleep? I noticed that you haven't gotten a break since we got back from LA.

Kiro: I went to bed early last night on purpose~

Kiro: Besides, today is Valentine's Day, and I have to cherish every minute of it.

Just as Kiro is about to pull me away, he suddenly looks down as if noticing something.

Then he sighs, squat down and gently rubs my cold feet with both of his hands.

Kiro: You're so silly, Miss Chips.

Kiro: Did you not wear your slippers on purpose because you were afraid of waking me up?

MC: Haha... Actually it's not that cold. Our home has floor heating.

Kiro: That's not okay.

As he mutters to himself, he picks me up slightly and lets me step on his soft slippers.

In an instant, we have seemingly turned into two little penguins, waddling towards the bedroom together.

Kiro and I start working together to prepare our Valentine's Day plans.

First, we spread the flowers in the storage room all over the yard, and then take out the tent and set it up together. After smashing the last nail in place, I get into the tent and lie down tiredly.

MC: ....!

At that moment, I notice the ceiling of the tent covered with photos of us, just like the ones in the RV not long ago. Each photo has captured moments that have escaped my notice before--

There's a photo of me snoozing at the hotel in Los Angeles, half of my head covered by the quilt;

There was also one of me with a sad look on my face as I stood in front of a supermarket shelf, wondering which snacks to buy;

And then there was also one of me smiling as I raised a broom as a guitar while we were cleaning together;

Noticing that I haven't said anything, Kiro opens the flap and sees that I am already lying inside. He smiles helplessly.

Kiro: I pasted them on the top of the tent on purpose, hoping that you'd find it later.

Kiro: Looks like you unexpectedly uncovered my final "trump card" in advance as well!

Seeing Kiro's mock "depression", I grin even more happily, sit up with crossed-legs and wink at him.

MC: Kiro, I'm especially grateful for one thing right now.

Kiro: ....?

MC: Fortunately, you and I aren't colleagues, otherwise we'd definitely be clashing every time we proposed topics for a program!

Kiro: Wait...! Did you also prepare a "photo wall"?

I shake my head mysteriously, pull him to the picnic blanket and point at the projection screen directly in front of me.

MC: Dear Mr. Kiro, are you ready to start a romantic day with me now?

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 4]

Just as Kiro is about to nod, he suddenly looks at me, then looks down at himself, and quickly stretches out his hands to shout stop.

Kiro: Not yet, wait a minute, I'll be right back.

Watching him run off, I belatedly come to a realization, glance at my pajamas and scurry away immediately.

In the dark cloakroom, we continuously rummage through all kinds of clothes.

Looking at each other's hurried and messy appearances, a sweetness gradually overtakes my heart, for some reason.

When it comes to "wanting the person you like to see your best side"... It seems that no matter how many times we repeat this, that original thrill and expectation will never be lost.

Finally, I manage to find a light pink dress in a cabinet filled with clothes.

At almost the same time, Kiro also puts on a clean and refreshing coat which exactly matches with the color of my outfit.

When we get back to the yard, we seat ourselves on the picnic blanket, shoulder to shoulder. I turn on the projector and play our "love movie"--

On the screen, two little bears jump towards each other from both sides of the screen and hug each other sweetly. Love bubble keep popping up on their little heads, and when they fall to the ground, they turn into pieces of golden potato chips.

Soon, cute lettering appears in the center of the screen-- "Little Bear Pictures".

Kiro suddenly laughs and pinches my palm in surprise.

Kiro: Turns out that another surprise for me was hidden here.

MC: Very cute right~

MC: Although it's only around ten seconds long, I checked out a lot of special effects tutorials and worked on it for several days and nights before making it.

Kiro: It is very cute. But the you who prepares these surprises for me so earnestly... is the one who deserves first place!

Just as he's about to add something more, his eyes are drawn to screen in the next instance.

In the picture, there are countless moments of us.

Like the photos in the tent, here are countless aspects of "him" from my perspective.

Him sleeping quietly while holding Apple Box, or him happily making breakfast for me in the kitchen;

Also him bending down to repair the leaking water pipe seriously, and him earnestly writing his music scores in the study room;

But no matter which side of him he is, as long as I call his name...

He'd look back at me in an instant and give me the brightest smile.

I cannot help but take a peek at Kiro, and find him watching intently. Although he doesn't utter a work, the raised corners of his lips say everything.

After an unknown amount of time, our movie temporarily ends with the appearance of the subtitle "To be continued".

At this moment, the sky is completely bright, it's shine akin to that of a pearl's.

MC: Happy Valentine's Day, Kiro.

MC: Although this festival happens every year, I still want to give you the best on this day.

MC: But I also know very well that even the best is not enough.

MC: So whether it's beautiful scenery, delicious food, or endless happiness... I want to give it all to you.

Watching me speak with such confidence, Kiro smiles and strokes my forehead.

Kiro: Silly Miss Chips, you don't have to do anything. I'm already very happy.

MC: How can that be... You should know better than me, right?

MC: Giving everything to the person you like is another form of happiness.

MC: But we still got really lucky this time, because amongst thousands of people, the gods took notice of us~

MC: For He... He seems to be slightly touched by us and gave us a "gift"~

Kiro: ....?

Within his doubtful gaze, I walk to the bear pendant with a smile and squat down.

There, stood a four-leaf clover swaying next to the bear. Different from what it was at night, it shines brightly in the sun now.

I take it off with a smile and then secretly weave the ring along its roots.

MC: Now, I want to give this "gift" to you.

I turn around, walk up to him and put the woven four-leaf clover on his ring finger.

At that moment, his long eyelashes tremble slightly.

With the breeze bowing and the sun shining brightly, I seem to see the most beautiful scenery.

Kiro: MC.

Kiro: What if I said that this isn't a gift from God?

I look at Kiro, stunned as his smile gradually brightens. He slowly intertwines his fingers with mine and at the same time, speaks word by word.

Kiro: Actually, before we went to Los Angeles, I had already planned on letting you see the yard full of flowers on this day.

Kiro: But considering that I couldn't take care of them personally for a while, I had to change my plans.

He pauses and seems to think of something again, his eyes full of tenderness.

Kiro: But when I left the market, the shopkeeper gave me an extra pack of clover seeds as a gift. He told me that this was a plant that could grow without much care. While it is inconspicuous, it's also very strong.

Looking at the "ring" on his hand, I suddenly realize that it all seemed to be like "destiny".

Kiro: As a result, they grew successfully in the yard. However, I never expected that a single four-leaf clover would actually grow among them.

Kiro: I was thinking that even though it's so rare, it's still inconspicuous.

Kiro: As long as you're not paying attention, the past will be ignored.

Kiro smiles and gently caresses my skin in the sunlight.

Kiro: But, inadvertently, it might light up a moment or day in your future.

Kiro: Maybe when you and Apple Box are playing on the lawn, or when you're watering the flowers with me, or maybe when you are depressed and distressed...

Kiro: But no matter when it was, I believed that this moment would make you happy.

Kiro: I just didn't expect that when this moment came, I would be the happiest person.

Kiro's voice grows softer and softer, and I am unable to keep to myself from gently kissing him.

The four-leaf clover sways on our interlocked fingertips, like a silent and simple intention.

Maybe it will eventually wither and turn to dust one day.

But I believe that the moment it was given will continue in this world--

Until my eternity with him.

[END]

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

Masterlist: Here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc kiro #IM SORRY IM SO LATE WITH THIS ASDFGHJKL

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mysweetlixe · 4 months

Text

✰ Blinded love ✰

Chapter 3: Crossed lines

Paring: |Hyunjin x Reader x Jisung|

Genre: Romance and Angst

Summary:Y/N, tired of failed dates, hesitantly agrees to a blind date set up by her roommate Jisung. Meeting Hyunjin, she feels a spark, unaware that Jisung harbors hidden feelings.

Words: 2.2

Masterlist

It’s been a week since the party and Y/N and Hyunjin made it official.They couldn't keep their hands off each other, and it seemed like they were inseparable. Jisung tried to be happy for them, but the pain of losing Y/N to his friend lingered in the back of his mind.

One day, as he was walking home from college, he decided to stop by the park to clear his head. He sat on a bench and watched as couples walked hand in hand, their love written all over their faces.

He knew he should be happy for them, but he couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness and loss. As the sun began to set, he received a text from Hyunjin.

It was a picture of him and Y/N on a romantic beach date, their arms wrapped around each other as they looked at the sunset. Jisung's heart sank, and he quickly turned off his phone to avoid seeing any more pictures or updates.

Jisung closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He knew he couldn't keep avoiding the truth forever. He needed to confront his feelings and find a way to move on.

With a determined resolve, Jisung turned his phone back on and opened the message from Hyunjin. Instead of closing it immediately, he forced himself to look at the picture again. This time, he focused not on the couple in the photo but on the beauty of the sunset behind them.

The vibrant hues of orange and pink painted across the sky reminded Jisung that there was still beauty in the world beyond his own heartache. It was a reminder that life goes on, even when it feels like everything has come crashing down.

Taking another deep breath, Jisung typed out a reply to Hyunjin's message. "Looks like you two had an amazing time. I'm happy for you both."

He hit send before he could change his mind. It wasn't easy, but it was a step toward acceptance and healing. Jisung knew that he couldn't hold onto his feelings for Y/N forever. It was time to let go and find his own happiness.

As days turned into weeks, Jisung threw himself into his studies and hobbies, trying to fill the void in his heart with something meaningful

He knew he had to keep a positive attitude around Y/N and Hyunjin, but it was becoming harder and harder each day. He didn't want to ruin their happiness, but he also couldn't deny his own feelings.

As days turned into weeks, Jisung found himself drifting further and further away and fulfilling. He immersed himself in his music, pouring his emotions into every note he played on his guitar. The melodies became an outlet for his pain, a cathartic release that allowed him to express what words could not.

But amidst the healing process, there were still moments when Jisung's thoughts drifted back to Y/N. Memories of their laughter and shared secrets haunted him late at night, threatening to undo all the progress he had made in letting go. Yet, with each passing day, he grew stronger, determined not to let his past define him.

One afternoon, as the sun bathed his room in a warm glow, Jisung received an unexpected call from a familiar voice. It was Y/N. His heart raced as he contemplated answering or ignoring it altogether. After a brief moment of hesitation, he gathered his courage and accepted the call.

Y/N's voice trembled with emotion as they spoke “ Jisung can you come over me and Hyunjin got into an argument and I don't know what to do."

Jisung's heart skipped a beat at the sound of Y/N's distress. Despite his own lingering feelings, he couldn't bear to hear Y/N in pain. Without hesitation, he replied, "Of course, I'll be right there."

He quickly grabbed his jacket and made his way to Y/N's house. The entire journey felt surreal, as if he was caught in some sort of twisted dream. He couldn't help but wonder if this was fate's way of giving him another chance.

When Jisung arrived at Y/N's doorstep, he hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door. He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for whatever awaited him on the other side.

Y/N opened the door with tears streaming down their face. Their eyes met with a mix of relief and uncertainty. Jisung stepped forward, enveloping them in a gentle embrace.

"I'm here," Jisung whispered softly, his voice filled with both concern and reassurance. Y/N clung onto him tightly, seeking comfort in his presence. In that moment, Jisung realized that his feelings for Y/N had not entirely faded away.

As he held her, he could feel the warmth of her body against his, and his heart ached with a mix of longing and guilt. But he also knew that this was not about him. This was about being there for Y/N in her time of need.

They retreated to Y/N's bedroom, where Jisung sat on the edge of the bed, patting the space next to him. Y/N joined him, their hands still intertwined as they both tried to steady their breathing.

"What happened?" Jisung asked gently, knowing that Y/N needed someone to listen without judgment.

Y/N let out a shaky breath before explaining the argument that had unfolded between them and Hyunjin. It seemed that their relationship had hit a rough patch, and it was taking its toll on both of them emotionally. Jisung listened intently, his heart clenching at the pain in Y/N's voice.

He could see the anger and frustration etched on their face, their eyes shining with unshed tears. As Y/N recounted the details, Jisung felt an overwhelming urge to protect them, to shield them from any more hurt.

"I can't believe he said those things to me," Y/N whispered, a hint of vulnerability seeping into their voice. "I thought we were supposed to be there for each other."

Jisung's grip tightened on Y/N's hand, his brows furrowing in empathy. "You deserve so much better than that," he murmured softly, his voice filled with conviction. "No one should ever make you feel small or unimportant."

A brief silence filled the room as the weight of Jisung's words settled in. Y/N looked up at him, their eyes searching his face for answers. In that moment, Jisung knew that he had a choice to make - to stay by Y/N's side as a friend or risk everything by admitting his true feelings.

With a deep breath, Jisung leaned in closer to Y/N, his gaze never leaving theirs. "Y/N," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know this might be the wrong time to say this, but I can't hold it back any longer. I never stopped caring about you, not for a single moment." Jisung's words hung in the air, thick with tension and uncertainty.

Y/N's eyes widened, their breath caught in their throat “what are you trying.” Jisung paused, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched for the right words. The room seemed to grow smaller, the air dense with anticipation. He knew that what he was about to say had the potential to change everything between them.

"I'm trying to say that... I love you more than a friend should," Jisung finally confessed, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and hope. "I know it's complicated, and I never intended for this to happen, especially at a time like this.”

As the words left his lips, Jisung felt a surge of adrenaline rush through his veins, his heart pounding against his chest like wild horses. The air in the room seemed to become electric, and he held his breath, waiting for Y/N's response.

Y/N's face turned bright red, and her eyes widened. She looked into Jisung's eyes, searching for some sign that he was only kidding. But there was nothing there to reassure her. Jisung's confession hung in the air, and the silence stretched on like an eternity.

Finally, Y/N spoke. Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper “Why now?”

Jisung's heart sank at Y/N's response. He hadn't expected their reaction to be one of confusion and disbelief. He had poured his heart out, hoping for a flicker of understanding or reciprocation, but instead, he was met with uncertainty. Y/N's brows furrowed as they tried to make sense of the situation, their eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape.

"Why now?" they repeated, their voice trembling slightly. Jisung could sense the apprehension in their words, the fear of disrupting the delicate balance of their friendship.

Y/N had grown accustomed to relying on him as a friend, someone they trusted and confided in during their moments of vulnerability. And now, Jisung had thrown this curveball into their relationship.

Jisung's mind raced for an explanation, his thoughts stumbling over each other as he desperately tried to find the right words. "Y/N," he began, his voice filled with sincerity, "I didn't plan for this to happen now or ever.

But sometimes, emotions have a way of creeping up on you unexpectedly." He reached out and gently cupped Y/N's face, his touch tender and comforting.

Y/N pulled away from his touch “ I’m With Hyunjin, Jisung you can’t just spring this on me.” Y/N raising her voice Jisung's eyes widened in shock, a wave of disappointment and confusion washing over him as he took in her response. He had never imagined that she would react like this.

As his mind raced to process the situation, he could feel the air around them grow heavy with tension. He couldn’t keep watching Hyunjin and Y/N knowing he had feelings for his best friend Jisung's heart dropped as Y/N's words echoed in the room, each one hitting him like a dagger.

He had been so consumed by his own emotions that he hadn't considered the impact it would have on Y/N's current relationship. The realization crashed over him like a tidal wave, overwhelming him with guilt and regret.

"I'm sorry," Jisung whispered, his voice barely audible. "I never wanted to put you in this position." His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he took a step back, unable to bear the weight of the situation any longer. The space between them seemed to grow wider, the divide between their hearts widening with every passing second.

Tears welled up in Jisung's eyes as he looked up at Y/N. She tried to speak, but her words were drowned out by the intense kiss that Jisung planted on her lips, leaving Y/N shaken to her core.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as the world around them faded away, and their lips met with the intensity of a thousand suns. It was a kiss that spoke of love, longing, and the weight of their emotions, all bottled up and finally released in a single, fiery moment.

Y/N felt her heart race as Jisung's lips touched hers, the intensity of his embrace electrifying her senses. It was a kiss that was both sweet and bitter, as it was both a confession of feelings she had never imagined possible and a reminder of the complications that lay ahead.

As their lips parted, Y/N looked into Jisung's eyes, her heart aching with both the love she felt for him and the guilt she carried for the person she loved – Hyunjin. The air was thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions, as they both knew that they had just crossed a line.

Jisung stepped back, his hand reaching for Y/N's face as he tried to wipe away the tears that had started to fall. "I'm sorry," he whispered once more, his voice filled with despair. "I never meant for this to happen."

Y/N took a deep breath “ You need to leave now." Y/N's voice trembled as she struggled to find the strength to continue. Jisung sighed, nodding slowly as he reached for his coat. "I'm sorry," he said again, his voice filled with pain. "I'll go. But please know that I wasn't trying to hurt you."

Y/N's eyes welled up with tears as she watched Jisung leave. She had always known he cared about her, but never in a million years did she think he could feel that strongly about her. The thought of him loving her more than a friend made her heart ache.

As the front door closed behind him, Y/N sank onto the couch, her mind racing with a million thoughts.

She tried to make sense of what had just happened, but all she could think about was the weight of the confession and the guilt she felt for Hyunjin.

As the silence engulfed the room, Y/N's heart raced with a mixture of emotions. Love, guilt, and confusion flooded her thoughts as she tried to figure out what to do next. She knew that her relationship with Hyunjin had always been complicated, but she never imagined that it would lead to this.

She tried to shake off the memories of Jisung's lips on hers, but they kept coming back to her, making her feel guilty and confused. She loved Hyunjin, but she couldn't deny the feelings she had for Jisung. As she tried to make sense of everything, Y/N reached for her phone and dialed Hyunjin's number.

"Hey, Hyunjin," Y/N said, her voice trembling. "I need to talk to you about something." Hyunjin's voice seemed distant on the other end of the line. "What's wrong?"

#stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #han jisung x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #han jisung imagines #han jisung #han jisung imagine #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin imagines #skz imagine #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz han #skz hyunjin #straykids imagines

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onlyweknowleeknow · 1 year

Text

Rabbit Hole

Hyunjin x reader

Genre: best friend to lovers au, business au, angst, fluff.

Synopsis: Hyunjin couldn’t stand it anymore, he needed an excuse to call you his. So in his desperation, he created an excuse. And now, after all was said and done, he knew; he had gone too far down the rabbit hole.

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: language, crying, desperation, unreciprocated feelings(?), talk of finance, smitten Hyunjin, Hyunjin is going through it, arguing, clueless reader, best friends, kissing, implications of smut, anxiety, alcohol, anger, regret.

A/n: I know the spacing is weird and annoying in this story, but I’m too tired to fix it. enjoy :,)

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

You yearned for him every second of the day.

You longed for the ghost of his fingertips, the sound of his laugh, the curl of his lips, even the wetness of his tears.

You loved him, but not in the way he wanted you to.

No, you longed for him as your best friend, and you loved him as such.

But for the boy, it wasn’t enough, because for him, he loved you in such a different way. A way that you might never reciprocate, but still, his feelings only grew and grew.

He yearned for you every second of the day.

He longed for the ghost of your fingertips, the sound of your laugh, the curl of your lips, even the wetness of your tears.

He loved you, he loved you more then the number of stars scattered across the night sky. He loved you as more then a best friend, and he always would.

He had fallen— no, he had crashed into you, his heart burning with a painful passion.

He could never look at someone the way he looked at you. And perhaps it was lucky, or maybe unlucky, that everyone around the two of you saw it.

Except you.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Hyunjin, when are we leaving?” You called out for the boy, fingers fiddling with your mascara brush.

“Soon, are you almost ready?” He called from the other room.

“Yeah, you?”

Hyunjin didn’t answer for a moment. “Ah, almost.” He replied after a pause.

Your hand stilled, gaze tilting towards the doorframe suspiciously. “Okay… good.” You said, shaking your head softly as you turned back to the mirror.

Once you were content with your appearance, you leaned back, smiling fondly. Your hands fiddled with the mascara stick, pushing it back into it’s container. You hummed, delicately setting the makeup tool down.

“I’m ready.” You called out, voice echoing in the quiet house.

“Aish—“ You heard a thump and a startled curse.

“Hyunjin?” You blinked, walking out of the restroom.

“Hold on!” He said immediately, the lock on his door clicking.

You scrunched your nose, foot tapping against the ground.

What you didn’t know, was that on the other side of Hyunjin’s door, was a nervous, panicking mess. He had never felt so worried or unsure. His mind was filled of images of you. Of your smile, of your frown, of your eyes, nose, lips, hair. Of everything.

Then again, it wasn’t unusual for him, you were always on his mind. But now, after he had finally managed to get you to come on an, albeit fake, date with him, everything felt that much more serious.

So while you were staring at his door, he was leaning against it, slender fingers tugging on the tie around his neck. While you were raising your brows at the lock, Hyunjin was praying to god you walked away.

So when he heard your footsteps retreat, he couldn’t help but release a breath.

Hwang Hyunjin was stupidly, indescribably, completely in love with you. His very best friend. But he would never let you know, because to him, your friendship was worth a thousand romances.

Hyunjin was strange, he really was. He was the son of a rich businessman, and next in line for the company’s throne. Yet he was gentle, sweet, creative, and oh-so talented. He was shy, yet somehow the most dramatic person you’d ever know if he opened up to you. Nothing like how you would have imagined a boy of his class to be.

You often helped Hyunjin get ready for various events his father requested he attend, and tonight was no different.

Well, except for the fact that you too, would be attending.

As Hyunjin’s date.

It was strange, really. It only happened because of a certain chain of events that left Hyunjin needing a date to bring to this specific event. That date being you. And so, you became the date he would be bringing to every event he would attend in the foreseeable future. Unfortunately.

In fact, the boy had no other choice. It was either fake a relationship with you, his best friend, or get married to a random girl that was the daughter of one of his father’s business partners.

Now, Hyunjin had gone on many, many dates that his father had set up. But the older man had never forced him to see any of the girls again. That is, until the last date.

Shin Ryunjin was her name.

And she was absolutely perfect. She was stunning, intelligent, and spoke her mind.

But Hyunjin wanted nothing to do with her. Not romantically, at least. He had told Ryunjin this, to which she said it was completely okay. However, Hyunjin and Ryunjin’s fathers wouldn’t let it go.

No, no.

Those two were meant to be, as the businessmen often claimed. And so, a marriage was announced.

That’s when Hyunjin drew the line, coming up with possibly, the worst, most see-through lie you had ever heard.

“I can’t marry Ryunjin, father. I’m in love with someone else.”

And that bastard, that cheeky, annoying bastard just had to make things worse.

“Who?” His father had asked.

“Y/n.” Hyunjin had replied.

Damn that boy. Dragging you into his mess.

It was more complex then that, but the details didn’t matter at this point. What mattered was the fact that Hyunjin’s father, the man who practically saw you as his daughter, had been absolutely ecstatic about the fib Hyunjin told.

So much so, that he had almost immediately called off the wedding and told Hyunjin to bring you to the business party he was throwing Friday night.

Of course, you had gotten many texts from Mr. Hwang, all of which confused you. Until you asked Hyunjin, then it made sense.

Hyunjin would never, ever admit it, but he was excited to take you with him. He would also never admit that he had planned this whole ordeal out with Ryunjin, who was more then happy to help the young man chase after you.

You had argued for hours, you saying you had school you had to attend, him saying the party was after school hours and that it was a one time thing, at least until he could figure something else out. He didn’t want to figure something else out.

You saying the thought of even fake dating him was disgusting, him saying you were being dramatic. He was hurt by your words, but didn’t say anything about it.

You saying his father would never believe it, him saying his father was already smitten with the idea. As was he, but you didn’t need to know that.

It went back and forth, back and forth. Until finally, you agreed. Hyunjin had promised to buy you an outfit, as he knew you couldn’t afford something to wear to such a party.

You had been pissed for days, hell, you still were. Except now, you had to own up to you decision of agreeing to accompany Hyunjin.

So, that’s what you were doing.

Getting ready in Hyunjin’s large house, wearing a ridiculously expensive dress, and having your hair and makeup professionally done. Of course, you had fixed the mascara, for the makeup artist had put it on much too thick for your personal preference.

You decided to leave the boy alone, figuring the two of you would already be getting on each other’s nerves tonight.

So, instead of walking towards Hyunjin’s room and shaking the handle as you usually would just to annoy the boy, you opted to make your way back across the hall into the bathroom.

You had been in Hyunjin’s house plenty of times. It wasn’t exactly a mansion, but it was big, that was for sure. Hyunjin used to have his room on the far right side of the house, but he switched rooms for you. Specifically, he switched for a room with a bathroom inside, and another bathroom across the hall. When you spent the night at his house, you refused to use the same restroom as him. Hyunjin was clean and neat usually, but it seemed like in the restroom, he lost all care.

Hyunjin didn’t mind, if switching his room meant you’d stay over more often, he’d have switched in a heartbeat.

You made sure to check your appearance one more time, but nothing was out of place. So you walked out of the bathroom again.

“Hyunjin, I’m going downstairs.” You told the boy, who was still locked in his room.

“Alright, I’ll be down soon.” He responded.

You checked the watch that was on your wrist, nodding to yourself. “I hope so, we gotta go soon. It’s almost 6pm.”

No answer.

You simply shrugged to yourself, arms swinging by your side as you made your way down the stairs, shoulders slumping.

Did Hyunjin really have to say yo ur name specifically? He could’ve said anybody’s name, but no, the jerk picked your life to shake up.

He already knew you liked someone else, perhaps the word like was too little.

Maybe you loved the freckled boy, with his deep voice and sweet accent. Or maybe, you were infatuated with him. But it had been years, years since Lee Felix had captured your attention, taking your heart with it.

You had met Felix at one of Hyunjin’s birthday parties when you were young.

Actually, you had met all the boys at that same party. Discounting Jeongin and Seungmin, for they had entered your lives later.

But never mind that, because Felix was there.

You remember when you first saw him, nervous and clinging to his mother’s hand, his sweet, brown eyes locked on his feet. He looked so precious, and even you, a 6 year old little girl, realized that you wanted to be near him.

So when you approached him, a bubbly smile on your lips, Felix couldn’t help but reciprocate the curl of your mouth.

And when you sweetly grabbed his hand, dragging him over to the bouncy house, Hyunjin, little Hyunjin, couldn’t help but feel a tightness in his chest.

Before, Hyunjin had seen you as a best friend, but that day, on his birthday, something changed. He had encouraged you to befriend the shy boy when he walked through the door, but now that you had, now that your hand was gripping his instead of Hyunjin’s, it made him uneasy.

Even at his young age of 8, Hyunjin didn’t like the feeling he got when you looked at Felix. And he didn’t know it yet, but that feeling was jealousy, and it was seeping into his veins. That was the day Hyunjin’s heart realized,

it loved you. Hyunjin loved you.

Hyunjin sat on his bed now, gripping his sheets tightly. He couldn’t mess up his hair, nor his light makeup now.

He wanted to cry. He had made a mistake and he knew the moment he saw you, all dolled up, all for him, he would never, ever be able to climb his way out of the hole he had dug himself into.

He was fucked.

You hummed a song to yourself as you waited in the kitchen, leaning against the large island lazily. The shock of Hyunjin’s riches were far less relevant after all these years. You had known Hyunjin since you were born, and he was 2. Your mothers had been high school friends, and had only grown closer over the years. So, the two of you were practically raised side by side.

Both of your mothers didn’t come from rich families, but Hyunjin’s father fell for his mother anyways. Your father was from an upper class family, so his marriage to your mother was less shocking then the Hwang’s, considering Mr. Hwang was the heir of the family business when he was young.

Perhaps it was because Hyunjin’s mother was, and is beautiful. It wouldn’t surprise you if Mr. Hwang fell for her beauty, along with her charming personality.

Hyunjin was a lot like his mother. He was sweet, gentle, and artistic, but if needed, he could turn cold and stern. He also retained her beauty, along with his father’s good looks. He was similar to Mr. Hwang also. He was good with people, and drew almost everybody in. He was the perfect mix of the couple.

Your fingers tapped at your phone screen, mind swaying as you scrolled through your phone. When you checked your watch again, it was 5:56pm.

You groaned. “Hyunjin!”

You waited for an answer, which came in the form of the boy’s footsteps as he hurried down the stairs.

When you saw him walk into the kitchen, you couldn’t really say you were surprised. Hyunjin was handsome, even you couldn’t refuse that. He had on a crimson colored suit, tailored perfectly to his slender body. His shoes were plain, black dress shoes. His hair was styled beautifully, his silky curtain bangs framing his sculptured face nicely. The rest of it curved against his neck. His pretty hands were adorned with a few rings, small earrings dangling from his ears. His makeup was light, accentuating his eyes and lips, along with shaping his nose.

It really was cruel, how beautiful he was.

A soft smile spread across your lips, eyes curving into the little crescents that Hyunjin loved so dearly.

“You clean up nicely, Jinnie.” You complimented with a playful laugh.

He sucked in a gulp of air, breath hitching.

Often times, Hyunjin found you the most beautiful when you were far from fancied up. He found the way your messy hair would fall over your eyes as you tried to complete a math problem, or the way you kicked your legs up when you were on his bed, either reading, writing, or talking to him, beautiful. Or when you took off your makeup and grinned stupidly at him as you sat beside him to watch a movie, or even when you were yelling at him to give you the last bite of food. He found you beautiful in simple moments like that, when you were truly, fully yourself.

But here, now, looking at you in a dress that matched his suit, with your hair and makeup done up, all for him? You were breathtaking. The crimson dress went to your knees, the top was made of thick, crisscrossed sleeves that wound their way around your waist. They were off your shoulders, covering your upper arms only. There was a small zip in the back, one that the stylist had most likely helped you with. You were wearing a beautiful white choker-like necklace and white earrings to match. You also had on a couple white bracelets to match the necklace, and your shoes were black heels.

Your words hardly registered in his head, and he could tell by the way your eyebrows were slightly raised, that you had caught him staring.

“Oh, thank you. So do you, y/n.” He managed to say seriously, but of course, you knew something was up.

“What’s wrong? Starting to regret your choices, are we?” You just loved teasing him, didn’t you?

You smiled, walking forwards and poking his chest with your pointer finger as you watched him expectantly. He swallowed.

“Aish, don’t touch the suit! It’s ironed.” He made up a quick escape, backing away from you as he dramatically looked down at his chest. You tilted your head, watching him carefully, before you snorted.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, sir.”

Hyunjin shuffled. “It’s your fault for dragging me into this, you know.” Your mood changed to irritation at the memory of why you were even with the boy right now in the first place. “I don’t even know how to act. What if I fall over?” You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand.

You shuddered at the thought. “Do I look good? Will I fit in?” You started to panic.

Hyunjin smirked at you, carefully placing his hands on your bare shoulders. “Yah, your hands are hot.” You complained. “You’ll leave sweat marks on me.”

“Y/n!” He snatched his hands away from you, making you burst into laughter and double over.

“Quit it, you’ll ruin the dress.” He snapped, crossing his arms and popping his hip out.

You looked up at him from your bent position, scoffing as you struggled to stifle your laughter. You stood up, fanning your face. “God Jinnie, you’re funny.”

Hyunjin deadpanned. “I liked the freaking out you better, bring her back.”

You rolled your eyes, punching the boy’s shoulder lightly. He grunted, rubbing his shoulder with a pout.

You beamed at him for a moment, then lifted your arm to gaze at your watch.

“Fuck— Hyunjin! It’s 6:11. We’re gonna be late!” And just like that, your panicked self was back, just as the boy had requested. Hyunjin blinked, snatching your arm. His eyes widened as he looked at the time on your watch. It really was 6:11pm. “Shit, let’s go. My dad will kill us if we’re late.”

Hyunjin hurried towards the front door, opening it for you when you followed him. “Uh, no. Your dad is gonna kill you, if we’re late. I won’t let you drag me further into your mess.” You proclaimed, quickly shuffling out of the door.

Hyunjin slouched. You were right.

He shut the door behind you both, walking after you as you approached the limo.

It was going to be a long night.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Y/n! Stop it.” Hyunjin scolded.

You curled your lips. “Jinnie, please? I just want one!” You held up your hands, one finger sticking up desperately.

Hyunjin really did try to say no to you, but how could he when you were looking at him like that?

He groaned in exasperation, nodding. “Only one.”

You smiled at the boy, who was already looking tired of you. Your shoulders shook lightly as you laughed, playfully punching Hyunjin’s shoulder for the second time tonight.

Hyunjin glanced towards you, shaking his head. “You’ll be the death of me.” He complained.

“Mm.” You hummed, taking a sip of the singular wine glass Hyunjin allowed you to drink. “Maybe, but you love me anyways.”

Hyunjin leaned about against the limo’s seat, legs crossed gracefully over one another. He did love you, even if you drove him mad sometimes. That was true, just not how you thought it was.

“We’ll be there soon. I don’t wanna say this, but chug.” Hyunjin said with a side-smile.

You peered towards the boy, running your fingers around the rim of the glass. “Chug?” You inquired, to which he nodded. A smile of your own spread across your lips as you lifted the glass to your lips and began to quickly drink the alcohol within it.

Hyunjin watched you carefully, fingers on his neck as he turned his head towards you, gaze locked on your lips and the way your neck moved each swallow. He shuddered, adverting his gaze out of the window instead. Once you were finished, you put the, now empty, glass back into the wine-cup holder Hyunjin’s father had installed in the limo. You checked the camera on your phone, making sure you hadn’t messed up your makeup. Thankfully, you hadn’t.

You felt the limo come to a stop, as did Hyunjin. “I’ll open the door for you, don’t get out until I do.”

“Why?” You cringed, tapping your foot.

Hyunjin glared at you, hoping you wouldn’t be stubborn about this. “It’ll make everything more realistic, just follow my lead, please? I know better then you.”

“For once.” You mumbled.

Hyunjin’s head whipped towards you. “Yah!” He exclaimed. You giggled. “I’m kidding, Jinnie. Hurry up though, my back hurts.”

“You’re like an old lady.” He huffed.

“Don’t disrespect your elders!” You scolded. Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “I’m older then you.”

“Not me! The actual old ladies out there.” You said.

Hyunjin just grunted and opened his door, stepping out with a sly smile.

You huffed, slumping against the seat as you crossed your arms.

Soon, your door opened, Hyunjin’s hand waiting for yours. He watched you carefully, eyes calculating as he bent into the car. You grabbed his hand. It was normal. You always held the boy’s hand, but something told you this time, it was different.

He gave you a gentle smile, one that definitely helped to calm the nerves that were currently crawling up your spine.

You stepped out of the limo, hand in hand with him. Camera flashes startled you, your grasp on his hand tightening. Why were there photographers?

You winced as you stood to your full height beside Hyunjin. “Take deep breaths, it’s okay. This is normal, people get nosy at big business parties.” The boy whispered sweetly into your ear, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. You stared at him for a moment, slowly allowing your shoulders to relax.

Hyunjin wondered what kind of photos the paparazzi would be getting. Did the two of you look like you were in love? Hand in hand, staring at each other silently. Hyunjin was sure, at least, it would look like he was in love. Probably because he was. But you, you looked at him like a big brother, someone to curl into when scared. And there he was, staring at you like you were his whole world. Would they be able to differentiate the looks you two shared? Yours of a loving friend, and his as something more?

Somewhere, deep in his chest, he hoped they wouldn’t. Because he wanted, more then anything, for you to seem in love with him. He wanted to find the pictures that would soon be online, and he wanted to keep them forever. Because maybe, just maybe, it would seem like you were looking at him the same way he was looking at you.

Just once.

When you looked away from him, a nervous smile graced our face. Hyunjin watched you for a few, fleeting moments, before he tore his eyes away from your side profile.

He moved forwards, you following close on his heels. He couldn’t help but laugh at you, following him around like a little puppy. You glared at him as he looked back at you, which simply made his smile grow more. At that, you couldn’t help but grin sheepishly also.

“Jinnie, quit it.” You pouted as he tugged you inside.

“Just come on, stop pouting. There’s food inside.” He bribed you. You rolled your eyes. “I’m already coming inside, and I know there’s food.” Hyunjin snorted, your arms now in front of you.

One of Hyunjin’s hands made it’s way to your waist, gently grasping onto your side and pulling you a tad closer to him. You stiffened, gazing up at the boy, who refused to look at you, his cheeks and ears were painted a soft pink color. Your lips curled, eyes curving into half-moons as you watched him. He was so careful, like he thought you’d smack his hand away. But you didn’t, you really couldn’t, you were here to play a role, after all.

You turned your head away from him as you entered the second set of doors, eyes widening at the sight. The room was huge, decorated gracefully with soft colors illuminating the large ballroom.

Every man, woman, and child in the place looked extraordinarily graceful, each posing with an elaborate aura that radiated power and confidence. Even the youngest child you saw, a girl who seemed no older then 11 years old, seemed to fit in more then you as she stood beside her parents quietly.

Hyunjin seemed to notice the way your shoulders tensed, for his hand tightened slightly around your waist, his neck craning to get a better look at you as the pair of you stood at the entrance, still unnoticed by most people in the hall.

“Y/n.” He whispered, bending closer to you, his voice just a gentle whisper in your ear.

“Don’t be nervous, you fit in perfectly. Nobody will question us, alright?” You turned your head towards him, giving a faint nod.

Hyunjin’s heart sank at your response. It was cruel of him to drag you here, into a world that even he, who had been raised in it, struggled to handle. He was regretful, eyebrows furrowing.

He leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to the apple of your cheek. He watched your lashes flutter as you fully turned towards him, a faint red rising in your cheeks and touching the tips of your ears.

“Hyunjin!” You whispered, shocked.

The boy sent you a proud grin, standing back to his normal posture. You stared at him, not missing the way his cheeks were also deepening in color. He watched you watch him, eyes shining sweetly. You scoffed, shaking your head fondly as you looked away, eyes gazing into the large room. You were stunned again, wondering how someone could afford something so grand.

Hyunjin began to move, his hand on your waist simply pulled you along with him.

It didn’t take long for people to notice the two of you, or rather, to notice Hyunjin. Your stunning best friend, whose hand was currently gripping your waist. You shrunk internally, but tried your best to give off confidence. You only hoped it worked.

Hyunjin pulled you through the crowd of people, most of which watched you both. You should’ve expected it, after all, Mr. Hwang was the one throwing this party.

And yet, you hadn’t seen it coming.

Hyunjin bowed and greeted multiple families, but kept moving. He figured you were already nervous enough. He just needed to find his parents.

But then, you stopped.

Your eyes were trapped, trapped in a trace. Your body immediately tensed, heart dropping in your chest.

There he was, standing off the to side, speaking to a few adults, a pretty girl wrapped around his arm. He looked so beautiful, his blonde hair was neatly combed, body fitted into a black suit. His small dimples were visible as he smiled at one of the talking men. He looked to effortlessly ethereal. But so did the girl he was with.

Of course he did, he was Lee Felix.

Your body pushed against Hyunjin’s grasp, feet taking a few, small steps backwards.

“You didn’t tell me he’d be here. Who is that girl?” You said through clenched teeth. What if he saw you? Then you would never be able to tell him how you feel, not without him thinking you’d hurt Hyunjin. But why did that even matter? He already had someone with him. Was it his girlfriend? It couldn’t be, he’d have told you and the others. Right? This was not good, not good at all.

Hyunjin’s brows were furrowed in confusion, his gaze following yours.

And then, his heart plummeted, too.

He didn’t know Felix would be here, he hadn’t gotten to look at the guest list. Even if he had, he doubt he would’ve noticed Felix’s name, nor the girl’s, who’s name was probably scribbled next to his as a plus-one.

His eyes turned back towards you, hand retreating from your waist. “I didn’t know he’d be here, I don’t know who that is.” He swallowed.

He watched you, your eyes glazed over, watching the freckled boy and the stranger.

He wondered, as he studied you, if he looked at you the same way you looked at Felix. It was a sad reality, really.

Your eyes held the whole world when you looked at Felix, like the entire galaxy had made home in your beautiful gaze. And you had a certain feel to you, when you were with Felix, that you didn’t have with anyone else. Almost as though the accented boy was your whole reason for existing.

That’s how Hyunjin looked at you. Like you were everything that kept him going, like you were the only reason he was living in this horrid, wretched world.

He wondered how he would react seeing you with another man. It was hard enough to watch you fall for Felix, but to imagine you actually with him? Horrid.

Then again, the sight in front of him made his blood boil. How could Felix just look past you? How could he bring someone else when he knew all too well that you were hopelessly in love with him?

Hyunjin knew, he had known since the day you met Felix, that you would never, ever, look at Hyunjin quite the way you looked at Lee Felix.

Because to you, Felix was your everything. You loved him.

Hyunjin knew, for sure, as he was watching you in that moment, that you would never be his. But that didn’t matter, because if he couldn’t have you, you should’ve at least gotten to have Felix. And now both possibilities seemed so far away.

No, you would touch his finger tips, but be just out of his grasp.

It was all a sick, cruel joke the universe was playing.

And Hyunjin couldn’t win. Now, neither could you.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Y/n, please come out. It’s been 10 minutes, my parents are waiting for us.” Hyunjin knocked on the bathroom door, pleading for you to come out.

But you couldn’t, you had messed up your makeup with faint tears, and now you looked a mess.

Maybe you were overreacting, but you just couldn’t get yourself to leave the restroom.

You mind was swarmed with memories of Felix, dashing, beautiful Felix. With his freckled cheeks, thick accent, and dimpled smile. Who was that girl? The question haunted you.

“Y/n, please.” Hyunjin slumped against the door, not caring if anyone saw him at this point. His hands and forehead were pressed against it, eyes shut.

He really had messed up, he already knew that. But he didn’t know Felix would be here, especially not with a date. If he had, he never would’ve brought you.

The door suddenly unlocked, so Hyunjin took a step back. There you were, makeup slightly messy, eyes swollen and cheeks red. He almost cried at the sight of you.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, stepping forwards to capture you in his warm embrace. You hugged him back, pulling him inside the restroom with you. Then, you locked the door again and continued to hug the tall boy.

You weren’t crying, you already had and besides, you shouldn’t shed anymore tears over something you couldn’t control.

Hell, if Felix was happy, you should be too.

“I’m sorry, I kinda messed up our time, huh?” You whispered into Hyunjin, who was still tightly hugging you, his chin resting on your head.

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head mindlessly. “No, you didn’t. It’s okay, this party is hours long, we only spent 15 minutes not attending it. We’ll be fine, I’m sure.” Hyunjin really wasn’t sure, however, he did know that his parents were probably looking for the two of you.

You sighed, retracting your body from his arms. He felt cold at the loss of you, but didn’t say anything.

“Can you help me? I just need to fix my makeup.” You sighed, walking towards the sink.

“What do I do? You don’t have a bag or anything, did you even bring makeup?” Hyunjin quirked a brow.

You hesitated. “No, but it’s only the mascara that’s running, so just carefully wipe it. I would, but my hands are…” You looked at your hands, which were shaking slightly.

Hyunjin inhaled, nodding. “Okay.” He mumbled, grabbing some tissues from the dispenser next to the sink. “What about your foundation and contour?“ He pursed his lips.

You had thought about that, but at this point, you didn’t care. “I can deal with that after. But I’d rather had messed up foundation then black streaks on my face.”

Hyunjin nodded at your words.

You leaned against the sink, hands gripping onto the counter to steady yourself. You tried your best not to think about Felix, nor the girl he had brought with him.

Hyunjin dampened the tissue, hoping it would ease the process of fixing your makeup. He leaned down, one hand beside yours on the counter, your body practically trapped under him. He was focused, lightly dabbing away the tear stains. Luckily, they hadn’t dried yet, so it wasn’t as difficult as he had thought it would be.

Your grip tightened on the counter as Hyunjin gently tapped the tissue against your face, eyes flickering back and forth over him. He was so close, you could see every strand of hair on his head, you could even smell his cologne. He was focused on you, but for once, it wasn’t because he couldn’t look away, it was because he was cleaning you up. And for just a moment, your heart beat a little bit faster, because here, encased in your best friend’s arms, you felt whole.

You just watched the boy, scanning his face that you had memorized years ago. You looked at the little mole under his eye, you looked at his nose and his lips, just admiring him for what felt like the first time.

Had he always looked this beautiful?

You couldn’t quite recall. To you, Hyunjin had always been handsome, sure, but he was still your annoying best friend. And now, you couldn’t help but look at him in a different, new light.

As his fingers curled against the counter, his face so close to yours you could basically feel his warm breath fane across your cheeks.

And then, in the heat of the moment, while you were questioning everything Hyunjin was, he pulled away. A proud smile on his face as he tossed the tissue into the trash can. “I fixed it! Look in the mirror.”

You nodded mindlessly, Hyunjin’s head tilting when you didn’t look away. You caught on, turning your body towards the mirror.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was certainly before then before.

You grabbed a dry tissue and tried to even out the foundation. It didn’t work great, but it worked well enough to not mess with your makeup anymore.

“Good?” You turned towards Hyunjin, who smiled fondly at you.

He held out his hand into the symbol for perfect. “Impeccable.”

You nodded, smiling at the ground for a moment, before you looked back up.

“We should go find my parents now.” Hyunjin said calmly.

Well, to you, it was calm. But inside, Hyunjin was fawning over you. How could he not? You looked so precious, all shy and worried.

Then again, he was also fuming. He didn’t think he’d ever been so upset at anyone, let alone at sweet Felix.

It wasn’t his fault, not really. It was just like how Hyunjin felt about you; he loved you, but the feeling wasn’t mutual. You loved Felix, but the feeling wasn’t mutual.

Love really has it’s way of messing with your mind. It’s unfair and cruel, making you fall for someone you just can’t have. Hyunjin sighed as he followed you out of the restroom, his brows furrowed in thought.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Do you see him?” You asked, clinging onto Hyunjin’s arm nervously.

You were gonna give him whiplash if you kept looking around how you were now.

“I don’t see him, I’ll tell you if I do. But seriously, y/n, you gotta stop moving your neck like that. I’m afraid it’ll break.” Hyunjin whispered.

You snapped your neck towards him in the same way he told you to stop doing. “Funny.”

Hyunjin scoffed.

“Didn’t you say we need to find your parents?” You inquired.

Hyunjin hummed, nodding. The two of you had been doing pretty good at evading conversations with people at the party, but you still hadn’t been able to find Hyunjin’s parents.

“I’ve been looking for them.” He said, his eyes still sweeping the large room as the pit of you cautiously walked through it.

“I see them!” You suddenly exclaimed, hitting Hyunjin’s arm lightly a few times.

Hyunjin flinched, looking at you, then to where your gaze was pointed. “Ah! Me too, let’s go.” He quickly tugged you along. Or, he tried to, but you beat him to it.

When you approached Hyunjin’s parents, they both looked ecstatic to see you.

“My son!” Mr. Hwang called cheerfully, patting the young man on the back. Hyunjin smiled, giving his father a bow, to which you followed suit.

“Y/n, dear, it’s lovely to see you, you look stunning. Mr. Hwang and I were so pleased to hear that you and Hyunjin were finally together! We’ve been waiting for years.” The woman giggled, watching happily as your cheeks fired up.

“Ah, thank you, mother.” You bowed again.

“So, y/n. Please tell us, how did Hyunjin finally make you his?” Mr. Hwang asked, noticing the way Hyunjin’s fingers had locked with yours.

“Oh— well, he—“ You stuttered, quickly thinking of a story.

“Really, it wasn’t anything extravagant. Hyunjin was walking me home after we had hung out all day, and he just sort of… spilled his feelings.” You tried your very best to make the story seem reasonable. You hoped it wouldn’t be too far-fetched. Hyunjin and you often spent your free days together, and he always walked you home after, so the fabrication was believable enough. To you, at least.

Hyunjin’s heart was hammering against his chest. He pictured the scenario in his head, wondering what it would be like if he really did admit his feelings to you like that.

Mrs. Hwang clapped quietly, smiling. “How sweet. Not everything needs to be fancy, you know. Some things are better simple.” She explained.

Hyunjin erased the scene from his mind, choosing to beam at his mother instead, before his attention was directed back towards his father.

“I agree. I do hope he at least got you flowers, though.” Mr. Hwang said, pointing at his son.

You laughed, fiddling nervously with a strand of your hair. “He got me a box of chocolates.” You lied. It felt wrong to lie to the Hwangs, but it was necessary, you supposed.

Mr. Hwang nodded in approval, patting Hyunjin on the back again.

“Just let us know if he needs to be put in his place. I know he can get…” Mr. Hwang trailed off, chuckling.

“Father! I’m right here.” The boy in question pouted, jutting out his lower lip.

Mr. Hwang was about to speak, but another man approached, greeting the four of you. He began to talk to Hyunjin’s father, who excused himself from the other three of you.

“Why don’t you two go get something to eat, if you haven’t already.” Mrs. Hwang said sweetly, rubbing your arm gently. You nodded, only just realizing how hungry you were.

Hyunjin said goodbye to his mother, then pulled you away, and back into the crowd.

“Jinnie.” You softly tugged on the sleeve of his suit.

He turned towards you, blinking. “Hm?”

You shuffled, smiling at his sheepishly. “The food is, uh,” you pointed past Hyunjin, “that way.”

Hyunjin furrowed his brows, looking behind him. You were right, the food was, indeed, that way. “Oh.” He said.

You laughed, it was your turn to pull him along now.

As you approached the table, you only grew more and more excited, your nerves completely dissipating.

Hyunjin let go of your hand as you arrived at the table, watching you with a soft smile as you excitedly grabbed a plate and scanned the table full of delicious food.

He couldn’t help but fawn over you, it wasn’t his fault. You were so precious, always excited at the prospect of food. And for the second time that night, you reminded Hyunjin of a little puppy.

He managed to move his eyes off of you, gazing elsewhere as you collected various amounts of food from the table.

Then he spotted someone he definitely didn’t want to see tonight. Walking hand in hand with a girl, was Felix.

And he was approaching the table, his sights already locked on Hyunjin as he happily waved, a wide smile on his freckled face.

Hyunjin stated, eyes wide as he carefully smiled back. What should he do? He couldn’t turn around, not now that he had acknowledged the incoming boy and his date. He glanced over his shoulder, searching for you. He found you, still at the food table, of course. You seemed to feel his gaze on you, because you looked up almost immediately and grinned stupidly at him, waving in excitement.

Hyunjin stared at you, a look of wordy shadowing his face. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, head and smile dropping when you looked past Hyunjin, seeing Felix approach.

But by then, he had seen you too, his smile growing even bigger.

You were seriously going to throw up.

Hyunjin scolded himself internally for the hundredth time that night, slowly turning around just in time to bow to Felix.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for you, I didn’t think y/n would be here. Are her parents attending? I didn’t see them.” Felix chirped.

You had set down your plate of food, knowing you had to go along with the role you had promised to play for Hyunjin. You approached the trio, eyes locked on Felix and his date as your arms wrapped around Hyunjin’s.

“Actually, I’m his date.” You smiled, it was painfully fake.

You swore you saw Felix’s bright smile drop for a moment, his eyes scanning your outfits and putting the facts together. You two were matching, of course you were here together… as dates.

Felix didn’t know how to feel. He had brought his girlfriend, if you could call her that. He had been seeing her for only a couple weeks, just tonight feeling brave enough to introduce her to his parents. And they liked her, but not as much as he had hoped they would.

When Felix saw you, he had only been more elated, but seeing you as Hyunjin’s date upset him. He wasn’t sure why, but he ignored it,

You clung tightly to Hyunjin, not just for show, but because you were nervous.

Hyunjin could tell, so he placed one of his hands over yours, softly caressing your hand as he spoke to Felix.

You sighed quietly, trying to it best to relax, but you couldn’t. You observed the girl with Felix, and it only made you feel worse. She was stunning, almost a perfect match for Felix. You shook the thoughts from your head, attempting to engross yourself into the conversation.

“How long have you two been together? I’m surprised I didn’t hear about it sooner!” Felix laughed, smiling at the both of you.

“Only a few days, we didn’t want to tell everyone yet. We’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell the others.” Hyunjin said in his politest tone.

“Yah, you don’t need to be all respectful with me! Of course I won’t tell them, it’s non of my business anyways.” Felix chirped, looking at his date suddenly when she tapped his shoulder. “Ah, right. This is Yuna, Shin Yuna. Her father is a partner of my father’s.”

The girl, Yuna, smiled brightly, bowing to you and Hyunjin. You didn’t like the way she clung onto Felix, it made your heart burn with anger and jealousy.

But you also didn’t like the way she looked at Hyunjin, in fact, you wasn’t sure which you disliked more. Her with Felix, or her staring at Hyunjin.

It was odd, to you, the feelings that spiked in your chest at her stare.

You had never been jealous of girls with Hyunjin before, but perhaps that was because Hyunjin had always made it clear that you were the only girl he wanted to hang out with. Yes, it was a selfish way to think, you knew, but you couldn’t help it. When someone is with you for so long, you can’t help but get attached.

“It’s nice to meet you, Yuna. You’re a stunning couple.” You spoke up, surprising all three of them. Hyunjin looked the most startled, his soft touch on your hand freezing. “But Jinnie and I really should go, we have a date planned tonight and,” you checked your watch for show, “it’s already 8:35. Our reservation is at 9:00, isn’t it?” You looked towards Hyunjin, who stared. You stepped on his foot, making him wince and cough slightly a s a distraction, before nodding.

“Yep! It’s at 9:00, we should get going.” Hyunjin said in a rushed tone.

Felix and Yuna looked surprised, but Yuna didn’t seem upset. It was only Felix that seemed a bit down that the two of you had to leave so soon.

“Oh. I see, well, you two have a good dinner. I’ll see you both another time.” Felix said hesitantly, eyeing the plate he had watched you fill and then put down.

Odd.

You laughed nervously, bowing before you quickly dragged Hyunjin towards the doors.

“Y/n—“ He inhaled. “Y/n!” His voice was louder now, so you turned.

“What?” You grunted.

“What the hell was that? We don’t have any dinner reservations. Besides, if we are leaving, we should say goodbye to my parents.” Hyunjin was unsure of what was going through your mind as you stared at him. What were you thinking?

“I know you don’t.” You suddenly said. “I just couldn’t stand there and watch that girl— Yuna, cling onto Felix like that. And the way she was looking at you just made—“ You stopped, sealing your mouth shut.

“What? The way she was looking at me made you what?” Hyunjin tilted his head, heart beginning to beat faster. We’re you upset, jealous even?

“It doesn’t matter, can we just leave? I’m tired and I just want to go home. I can call a cab if you want to stay, but I’m leaving.” You removed your hand from Hyunjin’s, who looked confused.

“Y/n, why won’t you talk to me? You’ve been acting strange all night, I don’t—“ Hyunjin began, but you cut him off.

“I am talking to you, Hyunjin. I’m just mad.” You defended yourself, arms crossing over your chest. You would be freezing if you were outside, but luckily, you were just in the lobby of the large building.

“Mad? Why are you mad?” He swallowed.

You couldn’t stop the scoff that escaped your lips, eyes flickering up and down the boy in front of you. “Seriously, Hyunjin? I’m mad that you brought me into this mess of yours! You know how I feel about coming to parties like this, and on top of that, Felix saw us together!”

Hyunjin furrowed his eyebrows. “So? Just— I don’t know, just tell him we called it off. Mutually. Im sure he’d give you a chance, I don’t think he’s especially happy with Yuna.”

You tried to bite your tongue, you really did. “It doesn’t matter! That doesn’t matter anymore. Your parents think we’re together, everyone at this damned party thinks we’re together! It’s not going to end. Your father isn’t gonna let either of us get away that easily, Hyunjin. And you know it.”

“Why does that matter? I told you I’ll deal with it, what’s so wrong with some people thinking we’re together, I don’t—“ Again, you cut him off.

“What’s wrong with it?! What isn’t wrong with it?!” You threw your hands up, pointing at the boy’s chest.

“I don’t want to date you, Hyunjin. It’s— it’s disgusting! It makes me sick just thinking about being with you in that way, and now hundreds of people believe this stupid lie you made up?” You poked his chest as you continued.

“You forced me into this and I hate it! I never wanted to come with you, I only did because you’re my best friend. But then you crossed the line, Hyunjin. You can’t just… you can’t kiss my cheek, or— or hold my waist all night! I let it go at first because it was all for show,” You dramatically shook yourself to seem more convincing, “but it’s too much! I don’t want to date you Hyunjin, it disturbs me to even think about that.” Alright, you were being harsh and dramatic. But you were cold, tired, and hungry. None of those things made for a very happy y/n.

Hyunjin stared at you, his whole heart shattering into a million pieces.

People often say that those closest to you are the ones that have the most power over you, they’re the ones that can hurt you the most. And for the longest time, Hyunjin didn’t believe that. Because really, even if it were true, you, his sweet, little y/n, would never hurt him.

Yet here you are, crushing his love into meaningless particles of dust, watching them blow away, never to be seen again.

“What?” Was all Hyunjin could say, scared that he would burst into tears if he tried to speak anything more.

He could see your glare visibly soften, just the slightest bit, but you didn’t take anything back.

Did you find him appalling? Did it really disgust you to think about being anything more then a friend to him? The words you had said to him were horrible, and he was sure that you didn’t mean to hurt him, how were you supposed to know his feelings? To you, the things you said might have seemed like mutual thoughts, but they weren’t.

Hwang Hyunjin was in love with you, but you didn’t know that.

Hyunjin felt his face heat up with anger and sadness, his eyes were also beginning to water. He blinked the tears away quickly, but you had already noticed.

“Hyunjin?” Your eyes widened.

“Hyunjin, I—“ He cut you off this time, an empty scoff of disbelief leaving his lips. “What, y/n? Haven’t you said enough? What more could you possibly want to say?” His tone was the angry one now, voice laced with something you’d never heard him use towards you.

Hwang Hyunjin was livid, and he was hurting on top of that.

“You need to leave. I’ll call you a cab.” Hyunjin turned and entered the ballroom before you could speak, leaving you confused and unsure of what to do next.

You never should have said the things you did, you didn’t even mean them. You were overwhelmed, but that wasn’t any excuse. Even if it was, it was a lousy one.

You were, by no means, disgusted by the thought of being something more than a friend to Hyunjin. And that was exactly what scared you. You shouldn’t be feeling that way for your best friend, you should be feeling that way for a certain, freckled boy named Felix. But you weren’t, not anymore, and maybe it was the small amount of alcohol in your body, but you couldn’t help but think back on memories of Hyunjin.

You unearthed something the childhood version of you had covered up a long time ago.

Your feelings for Hyunjin.

And just like that, the childhood crush and feelings came roaring back to life. In fact, you realized something. Every moment you had spent with Hyunjin, you had been extremely happy and at peace, and that wasn’t normal. Not for a friend, not even for a best friend. The way your skin would momentarily burn at his touches, the way you stared at Hyunjin fondly when he spoke about something he loved, the way you admired his every feature and movement, it wasn’t normal. But you had covered it up with the excuse that it was because he was your best friend, and you had, somehow, gotten yourself to fall for your own lies.

But the truth was this; You loved Hwang Hyunjin, not at a friend, not as a best friend, not as a brother figure.

You loved Hyunjin in a way you had long forgotten possible.

You loved Hyunjin more then you had ever loved Felix.

You loved Hyunjin with everything you were, and everything you would ever be.

You loved Hyunjin, as your whole world.

And now, you had gone and messed it all up, shattering your heart along with it Hyunjin’s.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It had been days, four days to be exact, since the party you had attended with Hyunjin. You had tried your best to get in touch with him, but he wouldn’t answer you. You didn’t have the heart to tel his parents what happened, so you didn’t text them. You doubted they’d be able to get him to see you anyways, he’d make up an excuse.

So, after two more days, you couldn’t stand it anymore.

You had seen, or at least, talked to Hyunjin every day of your entire life. Not talking to him for nearly a whole week? While it might not seem like much to others, it felt like forever for you.

You loved your other friends, but seeing only a few of them a couple of times, Seungmin, Jeongin, Changbin, and Han specifically, really didn’t make you feel much better. They could tell, too. Han had let it slip that Hyunjin wasn’t hanging out with them as much either, usually he was only with Minho, which was normal for the pair of dancers.

You were sad to hear it, your words really did upset him, and knowing that hurt. But you were sure Hyunjin was hurting more.

So, you decided it was time to win Hyunjin back. And to start, you needed to see him.

Luckily for you, you had been to hundreds for Hyunjin’s dance practices and performances, you had memorized the way to the studio years ago.

You needed to see him, so you got in your car, started the engine, and began driving.

When you arrived, it was 4:14pm, which meant Hyunjin and Minho’s practice would be ending in just one minute.

You quickly got out of your car and approached the building. You were nervous, that much was true. Your hand grasped into the handle,fingers trebling as you drew in a deep breath.

You pushed it open, greeting the woman at the front desk and made your way down the familiar hall, to the even more familiar practice room.

You had passed about ten dancers, probably from the same practice room you were headed to, but Hyunjin and Minho were not one of them, so you continued. When you arrived, you could hear talking within the room. And then, your heart skipped a beat at a familiar voice.

Hyunjin was inside, along with Minho. You expected it, but hearing Hyunjin’s voice for the first time in a while still made you nervous.

You grasped the handle, similarly to the way you had held onto the handle just a few moments earlier.

You Twitter the handle, pushing open the door, which creaked softly in response.

Three pairs of eyes met yours; Minho’s, Hyunjin’s, and a girl’s that you had never seen before.

But that wasn’t what surprised you.

What surprised you, what the protective hand that was wrapped around her waist. It was Hyunjin’s hand, he was holding her against him, Minho standing a few feet in front of them, his icy gaze softening when he saw you.

Hyunjin’s hand flew off of the girl’s waist, making her move backwards in surprise.

You shut the door immediately, hesitating by the handle for a moment. You needed to go, the feeling in the pit of your stomach made you aware of that.

You let go of the handle, watching in horror as it turned and the door began to open. In a flash, you were running down the hallway, out the door, and into your car. You turned on the engine and left, checking your mirror for a fleeting second.

And there, standing in from of the studio, was your Hyunjin. Maybe he wasn’t yours anymore, but still, there he was, watching you drive away.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When you got home, it was 5:30pm and the sky was already darkening. You slumped onto the couch in your apartment, hands covering your face.

What were you thinking? Hyunjin didn’t love you, at least not as anything more then a friend. So why did you think he would wait for you? Wait for you to do what? To apologize? To say you didn’t mean it? And then what? Everything would just go back to how it was before, he would still have dated the girl from the dance studio.

You were so stupid, who pushed down their feelings for years?

A knock on the door interrupted your train of thought, the noise causing you to lift your head and stand up from the couch.

You sighed, slumping towards the door. You took in a deep breath, putting on your best smile as you opened the door.

You tried to shut it right away, but it was too late.

Hyunjin was pushing his way into your apartment, and when you realized you couldn’t stop him, you just let him in and stepped back, eyes glued to your feet.

“Y/n…” Hyunjin panted, a bit surprised at the strength you had used to try and keep him out.

“Hyunjin, I’m so sorry.” You spoke, looking up to meet the boy’s surprised gaze.

You sighed lowly, shuffling nervously. “I didn’t mean anything I said back there, at the party. I just— I don’t have an excuse, but I do have an explanation. And I know it’s too late now, but I still need to get this off my chest.”

“I think I’ve… I’ve felt something for you since we were kicks, and I used Felix as a distraction. I’ve pushed my feelings down for years, I didn’t mean to, I was just scared? I think I was scared, or maybe I was just being irrational, but still. I really like you Jinnie, and I know you’re with someone else now, but I needed you to know. So please, don’t think it disgusts me to think about you as more then a best friend, because it doesn’t. I was just fighting my feelings and… I shouldn’t have done it the way I had. I’m sorry.” You bowed deeply, standing back up, though your gaze was trapped on your feet.

You felt something touch your chin, Hyunjin’s slender fingers lifting your head to look at him.

His smile was so gentle, so sweet. You almost melted.

“Y/n, I understand. Not exactly, but— I really like you too. I think I love you, even. That’s why I avoided you all week, I couldn’t look at you without combusting at the thought that it disgusted you to think about dating me.” He chuckled softly, thumb running along your cheek.

“It’s not too late. That girl at the dance studio, she’s just my dance partner. Minho wanted to go over some steps with the both of us, you just walked in at a bad part in the choreography.” Hyunjin sucked in, chewing his lower lip. “It’s not too late.”

The both of you stared in complete, utter silence, neither of you sure what to do next. All you knew, was that Hyunjin’s hand was on your cheek, and you had never felt more alive then now, in this moment with Hyunjin.

You decided to take the chance, leaning towards Hyunjin.

He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing as your breath fanned over his face.

You gave him a silly grin, one that he adored.

You didn’t move from there, so he did. Using his hand on your cheek, he pulled you into him.

When your lips met, it felt like you had finally found the missing pieces of yourself. The broken pieces of Hyunjin’s heart and yours intertwined, making the beating organs whole again.

His lips were so soft, the kiss so sensual and tender. Your hands found their way to his jaw, his finding home on your waist. He tugged you closer to his body needily, a soft whimper escaping his plush lips as you nibbled on them.

When you pulled away, Hyunjin’s lips were already a bit swollen and red, his eyes blown out.

He pushed his lower lip out, leaning in to peck your lips quickly. “Why’d you stop?” He pouted, grunting when you squished his cheeks together fondly.

“You are just so cute!” You exclaimed, softly running your fingers through his hair. He grumbled, but allowed you to continue. He wouldn’t admit it, but he really liked the feeling of your fingers against his scalp. Besides, he figured you’d give him another kiss if he didn’t complain.

And you did.

You kissed him again, and again, and again.

Your fingers ran through his silky locks, admiring his neat mullet. “You’re so pretty.” You mumbled into his mouth, his fingers gripping you so tightly, you were sure your waist would bruise.

He hummed, trailing his sloppy kisses down the curve of your neck, and over the jut of your collar bones. “That’s my line.”

You giggled, playfully pushing him away.

“Yah! Come back here, I’m not done!” He complained, quickly slipping off his shoes and replacing them for the pair of slippers he had left at your apartment when you first moved in.

You squeaked as he reached for you, running down the hall and into your room.

But he followed you, and he certainly wasn’t done with you.

He made sure to leave marks of his love all over your body that evening, and again at night, and one last time in the morning, just because he could.

And you did the same to his body.

You were in heaven, Hyunjin made sure you knew that.

And that’s when Hyunjin knew, you would never look at him the way you looked at Felix, but the reason was different then what he had originally thought.

That night, while you slept, tangled up in the safety of his arms, Hyunjin knew;

You would never look at him the way you looked at Lee Felix, because to you, Hyunjin was your whole world.

And nothing could compare to the way the world looked in your beautiful, sparkling eyes.

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

A/n: I hope you guys liked this story! I didn’t proof read it, I will in a few days… hopefully, but I figured you guys would want it now, so here you go. <3

152 notes · View notes

avatar-anna · 2 years

Note

Can you do part 2 to 'traitor'?

the wait is finally over! and, uh, let's just say ms reader has a type lmao

tw: mentions of suicide

part one

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were walking the streets of LA, marveling at the street lights that lit the sky in lieu of stars. It was cold, but not unbearably so. It was mild enough that instead of wearing your coat, you held it over your arm.

You felt giddy. There was no particular reason, you just felt good. Maybe it was that you saved a life today, or maybe it was that your smoothie this morning was perfectly blended, not a single seed stuck in your teeth, or maybe it was that your boyfriend called towards the end of your shift asking you to come to a special album release party tonight.

There was no reason not to be happy today. Today was a good day, and in your life, your line of work good days were important. And it was about to get so much better.

Dressed in a navy blue jumpsuit that cut your figure perfectly and your most comfortable pair of boots, you felt amazing, you looked amazing, and there was no doubt in your mind about it.

You used to not believe that. There was a dark period in your life where your confidence was practically nonexistent. After your breakup with Harry and the news that he had a girlfriend shortly after, you were beside yourself. You compared yourself to her, wondering what you did wrong or why he chose her over you. Was it because she was thinner and not as curvy? Was it because she fit into his life better, or that she could afford things you couldn't? When you dated Harry, you never questioned any of that, at least not obsessively. He never made you question yourself or your worth. And then you lost him and you lost yourself.

And it didn't help that his fans were comparing you and his new girlfriend too. Everything you wrestled with in your head, they confirmed. Everything you thought about yourself, they multiplied it by a hundred. It was awful. You dropped out of nursing school, you rarely left your house, rarely ate. You were a shell, a husk of the woman you'd once been before all the mess.

You didn't know how to get better, didn't know how to be better. You felt pathetic for letting a breakup get to you, you'd begun to hate yourself—your body, your hair, you couldn't find one thing you liked about yourself, let alone love.

Life was bleak, your mind corrupted by other people's thoughts. You lost sight of what made your life matter, you couldn't come up with a reason as to why you mattered.

And on a particularly dark night, you made a mistake.

But by some miracle, a friend had come to check up on you. You hadn't answered your phone in weeks, you never left the house, and when they got there, your house was in complete disarray. And then they found you, slumped over and not quite on your bed, and not breathing.

They saved your life that day, helped you recover and find happiness again. It wasn't easy, and it was a long, long road, but you made it there eventually.

And then you met him, the love of your life.

You thought you never wanted to be involved with anyone from the music industry again, but Elijah turned your world around. He was charming, sweet, funny, and eventually was the one who encouraged you to finish nursing school, or find something that made you happy. He saw the very best in you and celebrated it. It was only a matter of time before you fell head over heels in love with him. And you did, so much so that you moved across the world to be with him. Eli was willing to move for you, but you wanted a change of pace, some new scenery, and who better with than your sweet American boy?

Your family loved him, your friends loved him, but most importantly you loved him. He was sunshine on a cloudy day, warm chocolate cookies fresh out of the oven, every warm and fuzzy feeling you ever had. He doted on you the way no one else did, always putting you first, always reassuring you that there was no one else for him, until he didn't have to anymore. You were one hundred percent sure that neither of you would ever love anyone else, and that certainty was something you never thought you would ever had, but you were so happy that you did.

eli🥰🥰: are you almost here?

eli🥰🥰: i can't wait to see youuu 😚😚

You couldn't help but smile down at your phone. Typing out a reply, you rolled your eyes at how quickly Elijah responded.

eli🥰🥰: i can't believe you won't tell me what you're wearing 😡

He was so silly, but that was one of the things you liked about him. Elijah didn't take himself seriously. He was fun and adventurous and never failed to make you smile.

you: you'll know soon enough. i'm walking through the doors right now

You finally arrived at the fancy rooftop bar where this party was happening. It was a listening party for Olivia Rodrigo's debut album, an album that Elijah was a songwriter and producer on.

Eli wasn't very well known by the public, but he did a lot of work behind the scenes that people didn't really know about. He loved making music, and that's all he wanted to do. So he didn't drive a super fancy car or throw lavish parties or live that "celebrity" lifestyle that most people in his business did. Eli was, for lack of a better word, a normal guy, and that made it a little easier for you.

Going up the elevator, you listened to the music played as you traveled up. Your stomach knotted into a tight bundle of nerves, the way it always did when you had to go to one of these things. Eli didn't throw any parties, but he went to them occasionally (with you on his arm, of course). He never left your side unless you went to the restroom, and even then he joined you occasionally if he couldn't keep his hands off of you.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open, and he was right there waiting for you, your favorite drink in his hand. "Baby!"

He was acting like you didn't text him two minutes ago that you were almost there. You hugged him with the same excitement anyway, kissing his cheek a couple times and wiping lip gloss off his cheek when you pulled back.

"Ready to celebrate?" you asked, offering him your arm. You did that at these things because you were so proud of him, and he deserved to be shown off for his hard work.

Eli took your arm and walked with you further into the party. He introduced you to people, told them that you were his rockstar nurse girlfriend. You blushed, but didn't correct him. You were kind of badass.

"There's someone special I want you to meet," he said quietly, tugging you in the direction of a small stage overlooking the city.

Curious, you followed, your eyes widening when you realized who he was taking you to meet. She turned around, her long brown hair whipping around her as she moved. A broad smile stretched across the girl's face.

"Oh my gosh! You must be Y/n! Eli talks about you all the time!" she said, immediately wrapping you up in a hug.

"Hello," you said, your arms wrapping around her hesitantly. "It's so nice to meet you, Olivia."

Despite your boyfriend working on her project, he'd been super hush about it, and you were only familiar with the one song, but you were happy to meet her.

"I—Oh gosh, this is so embarrassing. I was, like, your biggest fan when I was a kid. I would always see you out and was so jealous because you were dating Harry. Styles. And—Oh boy, I'm so embarrassing myself right now, aren't I?"

Olivia's neck and face flushed when you tensed at her explosion of words. You smiled a bit at how she said, "when I was little," but you still felt a little awkward. Pressing yourself against Elijah's side, you said, "It—It's okay, it was a long time ago."

No one really knew much about you outside of your relationship with Harry. After the breakup, you kind of fell off the face of the earth. All social media accounts had been deleted, you never left your apartment, and the few times you did go out, you were bundled up, unrecognizable. The only thing people knew was that you broke up with Harry and he moved on quickly, but that was it. So you knew Olivia didn't mean anything by it, but you always got a little tense whenever Harry was mentioned.

Oh, Harry. What a rollercoaster he'd been on. You didn't really follow his career closely, but it was kind of hard not to be aware of him. He skyrocketed with One Direction and without One Direction. He was everywhere.

He never reached out, never called to apologize. He didn't know anything about what happened to you after the breakup, and his schedule was undoubtedly booked, but it was odd. He was gone, like he'd never existed to you in the first place.

Seeing him so happy and so successful and so happy was hard, but you couldn't really do anything about it. All you knew was that Harry was thriving, and you weren't, and that had been a hard pill to swallow too.

"Ouch, talking about my girl's ex right in front of me, Liv. Now that's just mean," Elijah said jokingly. He was easing the tension that Olivia didn't even know she created, and you squeezed his arm as a thank you.

You chatted to Olivia a little more, liking her bubbly attitude. She buzzed with excitement, and not from any alcohol, as she was underage and the whole party was liquor free. She left with a wave to go talk to her friends, leaving you and Elijah alone.

He pulled you over to the edge of the rooftop, bracing against the railing. "I'm sorry about that," he said, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand. "I know he's a sensitive topic."

You shook your head and took a sip of your drink. "It's fine. I don't know why hearing his name makes me freeze like that. It's been years. Almost a decade."

Eli pulled you closer, taking your drink from you and setting your drink on the balcony so he could hold you close. "You never got closure, and he caused you a lot of pain. It's okay to feel like that."

"I don't deserve you. You're too nice," you mumbled against the soft material of his sweater. Eli of course knew about Harry, he'd been a big help in reminding you of your worth. You'd done all the hard work, but he reminded you to take it easy and not be so hard on yourself.

"No, no, no," Eli said, taking your face between your hands so you looked him in the eye. "You deserve it all, baby. And I'll remind you every day of that until you believe it on your own."

"Fuck off, you're gonna make me cry," you said, leaning back against his chest. You felt the vibrations in his chest as he laughed.

Both of you were silent for a moment, and then he said, "You should talk to him."

"What?" You stood up straight, confused at his suggestion. "Why would I—I don't even—"

"You need closure," Elijah said, smoothing your hair back from your face. "You've struggled so much, and he was the root of a lot of it. You've come a long way, but you need to close that chapter of your life. He needs to know how much he hurt you."

What Eli was saying was right, he had hurt you, and you never really got closure from that relationship, even if you were the one to end things. But did you even want to see him? How would you even get ahold of him if you did?

"I'll think about it," you said. "Now, enough about me. This is your night, love, and this is no way to celebrate."

"Perhaps you're right, but I have one more surprise for you," Eli said, kissing your forehead.

"Huh?"

This was Elijah's party, or Olivia's party, really. What surprise could be in store for you?

You found out soon enough. At one point during the night, Olivia stepped up on the stage to say a few words. She talked about how truly appreciative of all the support from the people in front of her, and how she couldn't make this album without her producers, friends, and family, Elijah's name being one of the names she listed.

And then she presented her album. Sour. You stood in front of Eli, his arms wrapped around you and swaying as you listened to the album. When the first song ended, he leaned close to your ear so he could quietly say to you, "Listen closely to this one, baby."

You were going to listen closely to all of the songs, but now you were really confused. From what Olivia said in her little speech, this was a breakup album. If this was your boyfriend's cruel, sadistic way of breaking up with you, then you needed to prepare yourself.

But as you listened to the song, you realized it sounded familiar, and not just the concept, the actual words being sung. They were words you'd written in a journal years ago when you were at your lowest. It felt weird to hear someone sing your experience like it was there, but you thought if anyone could relate to your pain, it was Olivia (even you knew about the drama with her ex and the "blonde girl").

When you first met, you had walls up as high as the sky. You thought it would make him less interested, but he never stopped trying. Even so, you didn't know how to talk to him. You wanted to open up, but you didn't know how.

So you showed him your journals. Everything you couldn't say was right there written down for him to read, to make him understand why you were the way that you were. It was a long night with lots of crying—mostly on Eli's part—but it brought you closer than ever before.

And then later that night you were in bed together. Fully clothed, not even cuddling, just laying side by side. Eli looked over at you and said, "You're a good writer, you know."

You shrugged at the time, not thinking much of it. "I don't know, I just wrote how I felt."

"Yeah, but it's the way you said it. You just framed it really nicely, is all. Would make for a good song."

"You think?"

"Uh huh. But I would never do that without your permission or anything. That's your life. Your experience."

You told him he could if he wanted, but wait until the time was right to give it away. You didn't know if he ever actually did it, or if he did and kept it to himself. Until now, of course. It was undeniably your journal entries put into a song.

You'd wished you'd been given a little warning, but you were supportive nonetheless. It was just a surprise. Those conversations happened years ago, you had no idea that this was his plan.

"I thought it was time for people to hear it, even if they don't know it's about you," Eli said, kissing the back of your head.

His tenderness made you want to cry, but you held it in, seeing as you had a whole album to listen to. So you whispered, "Thank you," to him, kissing the top of his hand.

-----------------------------------------------------------

You were at another party, but this one was a lot bigger, and you seemed to have misplaced your boyfriend.

Eli had left to refill your drinks, and stayed put at the edge of the dance floor like you'd asked. With your hands clasped together, you watched the people around you as they danced, mingled, sneaked behind hidden alcoves or in large, single-use restrooms. It was definitely entertaining, a good pastime while Eli found his way back to you.

"Now how does someone who looks absolutely stunning get left alone with no one to dance with?"

You froze, recognizing the voice. It was older, deeper, but definitely the same as you remembered it from years and years ago. Your fight or flight kicked in, but you fought the urge to run in the opposite direction.

And he was flirting with you. Would he have done that if he'd known who you were? Did he do it because he knew who you were? You were too curious to just bolt like you wanted to, so you turned around.

"Oh shit."

You didn't know how you wanted Harry to respond, but you didn't think that was a good response. With a shaky voice, you said, "H—Hello, Harry."

"Y/n," he breathed, looking like he was staring at a ghost. In a way, you both were. "How—How are you? What are you doing here?"

"I, um, I'm actually here with—"

"Baby! There you are!" Elijah said, slipping his arm around your waist and kissing your temple.

Despite your worlds colliding in the worst way, you felt at ease with Eli at your side. He squeezed you comfortingly, ever the hero in your little story. "H—Harry, this is Eli. My—My boyfriend."

It was hard to gauge Harry's reaction, as he just stood there and stared blankly at you. Looking over to Eli, you widened your eyes at him, not sure what to do now.

"How's it going man. I'm a big fan of your work," he said, reaching his hand out towards Harry.

Harry looked down at it, then slowly took it. "It's nice to meet you, Eli. How long have you known, Y/n?"

"Oh gosh, it feels like forever sometimes, doesn't it?" he asked, looking down at you with a smile. "But I would say, oh, I don't know, four years, six months, and about two days."

That made you laugh. You punched his shoulder. "Oh stop. You made that up."

"I didn't, I swear! Don't act bitter because you don't know the exact number of days we've known each other."

You could've gotten lost in playful bickering, but you tried not to for Harry's sake. "How, um, how've you been, Harry?"

"Good," he said, playing with his bottom lip. "I, uh, I normally don't go out to these things, but I'm—I'm glad I did. It—It's good to see you again."

He didn't sound like it was good to see you again, but you didn't blame him. It was a lot. For the both of you.

His hands were fidgety, and he wouldn't stop looking at you, but wouldn't meet your eye. You wanted to talk to him, but you didn't know how, and it seemed that neither did Harry.

"You know what, why don't you two catch up? I think I saw someone I recognized over there," Eli said. Leaning down, he kissed your cheek. "I'm here if you need me, okay?"

Nodding, you sent your boyfriend on his way. When it was just you and Harry, you still failed to say anything. He just kept staring at you, making you fidgety as well. You looked down at your dress, wondering if there was anything wrong with it. It was a multi-colored, lace dress with a corseted bust and buttons running down the middle of it. You hated that he made you question your choice, but you did.

"You look great, by the way," he said. "Sorry, I didn't mean—I only meant—Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"It's okay," you said. "Would you like to sit down?"

"Yeah, sure, uh, after you."

You searched for a place for you to sit down, settling on a tall table towards the back of the large club. Harry helped you into your seat, then sat down at the seat across from you.

"It—It's funny, I was just thinking about you the other day," you said, trying to find a way to start this conversation.

"I think about you all the time," he said, his eyes widening when he realized he said that out loud. "Sorry, not in—not in the way that you think, I just—I've always wanted to reach out, but I just...didn't know how. I'm sorry if I just made things more awkward than they already were."

"It—It's okay," you said. Your fingers tapped against the surface of the table. "I know what you meant. This is all really weird."

"It is. It's weird seeing you...grown up...I guess."

Smiling a little, you said, "I know the feeling."

Harry was quiet again, looking down at his folded hands on the table. "So...Eli...It seems quite serious."

Now your smile was nice and wide. Just hearing his name made your heart flutter. "It is—We are—I—I'm sorry, I don't want to rub it in your face or anything. How—How are you? Are you? Seeing anyone?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "No, I, uh, haven't been seeing anyone recently. Just kind of been...doing my own thing, I guess."

"Oh. Well, that's good. It's good right?" you asked. You knew this situation was kind of awkward, but Harry was acting stranger than you were right now, which was saying something.

"It's fine, I just—" He didn't finish, his voice shaky all of a sudden. You could see his leg shaking anxiously under the table.

Furrowing your brow, you reached across the table, concerned about him. "Harry, are you o—"

"No, I'm not, I'm—"

Harry slipped his hands off the table before you could touch them. He smoothed them on the material of his pants, a pair of brown ones with a plaid pattern blending into them. He looked comfy and cozy in his pastel blue sweater, but he looked anything but. He looked like he was about to cry.

"I'm sorry," he said all of a sudden. You retracted your hand back, shocked by his outburst. "Sorry, I—I've wanted to apologize for years, but I didn't know how, and then I was scared, and then it felt like it was too late. And now you're here, and I thought—but you're not—and I feel like such an idiot. An—And now you're looking at me like you pity me, and I hate that, I hate that you've moved on and life seems so perfect when there are moments where I've hated myself for how I treated.

"I should be happy that you've moved on, and I am happy for you, really, I just—I don't know how I feel. I just know that I'm sorry."

He took a deep breath. It was shaky and since you were looking at him so closely, you could see his lips quivering.

Hesitantly, you reached your hand across the table again, palm up. "I...Eli was telling me that I needed closure from all this, but I think you might need it too."

Harry stared at your hand in the middle of the table. He eventually took it. It felt nice, but there were no butterflies, no giddiness. You didn't get that with him anymore.

"I guess I do." He took a deep breath. "I—For years I've felt horrible about the way things happened, the way I treated you, and how I let Isabella treat you."

You nodded. It wasn't your favorite pastime to reminisce about that day, but clearly he needed to get some things off his chest, and you needed to hear them.

"It wasn't great," you agreed.

"No, and I, um, I'm really, really sorry. I know it probably doesn't mean anything now, but I wish I'd done things differently. I was young and stupid and...had a bit of an inflated ego. The way I treated you wasn't right, and I've felt horrible...for years. Still do."

"It does. Mean something, I mean," you said. You debated whether to tell him what the aftermath of the break up was like, since he was already so obviously torn up about it. But you'd been torn up too. You had a right to share your feelings the way he got to. "I, um...It was not easy. After you broke up with me. I was upset, and while I don't blame you for your fans' behavior, but with you moving on so fast there were comparisons and unkind words and...Yeah, it—it wasn't easy. I was depressed for a really long time, so depressed that I—"

His face crumpled when your voice broke. He looked like he was about to start sobbing. Right there in the middle of this party. You felt the urge to as well, but you swallowed the lump in your throat, took a deep breath, and looked into his eyes.

"It was a really dark time, but I've healed and moved on. I'm happy, and I—I don't want you to feel guilty anymore. I want you to be happy too," you said, running your thumb across the back of his hand.

Harry sniffled, but he didn't seem like he was on the verge of a breakdown anymore. "I just wish I could go back and do things differently. I know I said I was young, and I was, but I was old enough to know how to be a decent boyfriend, and I wasn't, and I'm sorry."

It was what you needed years ago. Perhaps Harry's words could've saved you a world of hurt, perhaps not, but he was saying them now, and seeing him so torn up about how badly he'd hurt you, eased something in you, fixed the last fracture in your heart.

"I know you can't go back in time and fix things, and maybe if you had, things might be different, but this is the life we live. So, I forgive you."

"Really? You really mean that?" he asked, looking like he was about to cry for an entirely different reason.

You nodded. "Yes. For a long time, I wanted you to hurt as badly as I did, but now that I've seen you upset, I realize that's not what I want. We've both grown up, we've both moved on."

"Yeah, we—we have, haven't we," he said, looking at your clasped hands. There was a look on his face that you couldn't read, but before you could ask what was wrong, he smiled. It was small, but he did smile. "Can I—Can I give you a hug? Just one last one? For closure's sake?"

"Yeah, of course," you said.

Smiling, you stood up and walked around the table. Harry immediately wrapped you up in his arms. It felt comforting, but friendly. His cologne was nice, and his sweater was soft, but you were in love with a different cologne and sweater wearing individual now. Hugging him was nice, but he didn't give you butterflies like he used to.

After a good twenty seconds, you tried to pull away, but Harry held onto you tighter. It seemed he was squeezing the rest of his guilt out, one final goodbye. So you let him have it. You didn't think you would ever be close friends, but maybe you could be friendly. He finally did pull away, his hands resting on your shoulders with a small smile on his face.

"Can I say it?" you asked. "Just once?"

Harry was perplexed, looking at you quizzically. "What do you—Oh. Yes, I suppose it's only fair."

Your grin was big as you stepped away from a little. "Harry Styles, I. Was. Right."

Both of you chuckled, and it felt good. To laugh again. You weren't sure when you'd see him again, but this was a moment you felt good leaving off on. Harry's heart wasn't fully healed, but he would be, and you wanted that for him.

A hand was at your back, and you immediately turned to find Elijah there. Your smile grew even wider, your eyes closing when he kissed your forehead.

Since Harry was still standing there, you pulled back from your boyfriend. Eli asked if Harry wanted to leave and join the two of you out for drinks, but he declined, waving you off.

"Are you sure?" you asked. You just wanted to make sure he was okay.

"Yeah. You go. I'm supposed to meet a friend later."

"Oh. Okay. Well, have a good night, Harry," you said, smiling softly at him.

"Good night, Y/n."

----------------------------------------------------------

Harry watched you walk away on another man's arm, and he tried to ignore the ache in his chest.

He didn't know why he just assumed you would be single whenever he saw you again, but he did.

Guilt was a nasty thing, Harry had come to realize. He'd been terrible to you, and once his head came out of the clouded haze that Isabella kept him in, guilt consumed him. He felt horrible for how he treated you, how he handled things.

And it didn't help that all of his friends were against him on that front at the time. Harry had been too dense about it all back then, but his band members weren't. They even egged his house. No one ever admitted to it, but he knew it was them, it couldn't have been anyone else.

Harry eventually got over it, then he wasn't over it, then he got over it again. It came in waves over the years, the guilt. And when he saw you tonight, actually realized it was you standing there...he was overcome by a hurricane of emotions. He felt like it was fate.

And then he saw you completely light up for someone else, and he knew that if there was such a thing as fate, it was cruel.

He didn't even know why he'd gotten his hopes up. It had been nearly a decade since you last spoke, of course you would have moved on. He had too, but nothing ever seemed to stick. For a split second, he felt like he was being given a second chance, and perhaps if he really wanted to make a fool out of himself, he could try, but he didn't want to do that. Not to you. You looked truly happy, and after everything he'd put you through, after what you insinuated...

You told him you forgave him, that you'd healed, but it would take a lot longer than today for Harry to get over that, to forgive himself for the hand he'd played in your pain.

So he let you walk away, let you be happy. You'd overcome so much, had found happiness despite everything you'd been through. Harry would be okay too.

He left the fancy LA party alone. It wasn't the first time, but it felt different. He felt lighter, yet heavier at the same time. Harry felt like you were right to say he needed closure, and he did need that. The past was behind him, sort of, but he would move on eventually. Just as soon as he put you behind him too.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #traitorry

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rossellini-tyrell · 9 months

Text

Nothing’s Gonna Change My World

Ch. 5 - But If I Seem To Act Unkind (it's only me, it's not my mind)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Word Count: 4,255

Warnings: MINORS, PROCEED WITH CAUTION! Pav and Reader are getting steamier, but there’s no smut here (or even implied), nothing happens that you wouldn’t see in a given MCU movie. A reminder that these characters are in their early 20s.

Pairing: Pavitr x F!Reader also found on AO3 and Wattpad. ----- You stand on your fire escape, watching Spider-Man dance across a noontime sky. Every now and then, when the bug bites him, Pavitr likes to bust out the suit and show off for the locals. Today, some children are gathered round a domed building nearby, with your boyfriend (your boyfriend!!) perched at the dome's apex, balanced elegantly on one leg, not unlike a wading bird hunting in a brackish lagoon. Children of assorted sizes whoop and holler as Spider-Man puts on an impromptu performance atop the glittering dome, flows through an arabesque, a jete, an aerial in place, a handstand on just two fingers. He wheels into a straddle lever, the sunlight striping in thick ribbons across the thick black waves flowing with him atop his head. Your breath hitches as you watch Pavitr's well-toned muscles flex and release, quads tightening, scapula retracting, feet arching. Your eyes are glued to his little show, because in what world would you have expected that you'd get to date this. Not only that, this wants to date you just as much. A bangle glimmers as it's tossed into the air, becoming a diabolo of sorts that cycles upon a gossamer strand of web, surprisingly strong despite its appearance. Pavitr deftly twists the web into a bridge, does a J-whip, a C-whip, a cat's cradle. Hops, stops, and bounces, everything in between. The gaggle of kids gasp in delight as he launches a second bangle, aces seemingly impossible tricks, impossible for anyone but him. The crowd goes wild as he leaps to catch both bangles on his wrists in the air, and takes a bow with a flourish and wink. And then he's gone, slinking behind the dome of the building. You need to fan yourself after catching that view. You step back inside to escape the oppressive midday heat, only to be immediately confronted with a sight that nearly gives you heatstroke on the spot: Spider-Man, who is now your boyfriend (dreamy sigh goes here), is standing unmasked in your kitchen, and he's stripping off his suit top. You freeze, rooted to the spot as he flexes his arms in front of him and ahead to cleanly peel off the top. The top rides up along his back, treating you to a reveal of a well-developed, incredibly powerful torso. He's all lats, obliques, traps, deltoids, all the power you'd expect of a gymnast, yet compact and lithe enough to remain nimble and catlike. A fine sheen of sweat clings to a rich expanse of smooth, chestnut toned skin, with only whispers of scars dappled across him thanks to his enhanced healing factor. You can't help but profusely thank whichever past life iteration of you that did whatever it was they needed to do for you to see this today, this is your first time seeing Pavitr shirtless, and damn he doesn't disappoint. Your boyfriend grabs a sport-top water bottle off the counter (when that got there, you have no idea), upends it to take a huge swig, eyes closed in relief. It's then he notices you, statue-still where you stand, seconds away from spouting a nosebleed. Pavitr's eyes light up in acknowledgement, he spins on his heel to face you, treating you to deliciously sculpted pecs and abs, with a bonus hint of the crest of his hips peeking out of the rest of his suit. "Enjoying the view, darling?" he slyly asks, his lips pulling off the bottle with a pop. "I have...a lot of questions for you right now," you stammer, mind still in a blue screen of death. Error 404: sweaty shirtless superhero boyfriend in my house right now. "Like, how did you get in my apartment, and where did that water bottle come from?" "Bathroom window, and I put it in the fridge before I left," Pavitr answers in order, nonchalantly, as if he were being asked which way to the nearest ATM. "Nobody's paying attention to that side of the building so I can just slide in like it's the DMs." "...How—and why—in the fuck did you get in and out of my apartment twice without me noticing?" you demand, exasperated and still processing how confusing, surprising, and glorious this all is. Pavitr chugs the rest of the bottle, a rivulet of water escapes the corner of his mouth and trails along the cut of his jawline and his neck. He plops the bottle down and wipes it off with the back of his hand. "I'm Spider-Man, I'm sneaky," he pans. He advances towards you, walks you back against the counter, before caging you in with his toned arms. There's nothing aggressive about it, only a little playful banter, you know you'd have your freedom if you so wanted it in an instant. "And I thought you might appreciate a little surprise, dove," he purrs, nose only inches from yours now. His locks are extra shiny from the sweat, sepia-toned eyes sparkling with mirth, affection, a hint of...want? You can feel yourself flushing, burning up all over again because what you would have given to be looked at like that sooner. "Oh it's...appreciated," you say, wetly. You could swear a few beads of sweat are popping up on your own brow. Pavitr's eyes flicker from yours, to your lips. You watch his tongue subtly dart out to wet his own, before he meets your eyes again. And then you're floating, shrieking, legs dangling off the ground as he's snatched you up into a bridal carry, strong, so strong arms holding you against that smooth, sweaty, delicious chest of his. Your boyfriend snickers lowly at your shocked expression, eyes now glimmering with mischief. "You're not limited to appreciating with just your eyes, sweet girl," he huskily implies. The deep, slow kiss he melts on your surprised mouth doesn't help things, sends a shudder to all ten fingers and all ten toes, his tongue swiping the ridges of flesh behind your top teeth setting your nerve endings ablaze. Hesitantly, you splay your hand across his bare chest, the context so different from the first time you got to. The skin beneath is damp, supple, electric, instantly enrapturing you with the velvety feel. Looking at and touching the sweaty shirtless superhero boyfriend? You could kiss the past life version of you on the mouth right now. "'Yanno what the best part of getting to hold you like this is, dove?" Pavitr breaks you out of your trance, the question winding between your ears like oil added to a diffuser. You arch your eyebrow in query, your cheek pressed against one of his pecs. "I get to kiss you to death!" he beams. He's on you like white on rice, smacking kisses anywhere he can reach by pulling you close to him, some land on your hairline while others are mashed into the apples of your cheeks, the swell of your nose, one or two catch the hollows where your eyes sit. The ridiculous display of affection makes you giggle, kicking your feet like a child. "Pav! Pav, no, that tickl-mph!" you protest, a squeal stifles as he peppers kisses to your plush mouth. "Sorry, didn't quite catch that," he smirks against your lips, gently tugging your top lip between his. Fuck, he's an amazing kisser, something he's shown you progressively more of as you've warmed up to the idea that a relationship could be like this, unfailingly affectionate for the sole reason of getting to revel in it. "I think I'm gonna keep kissing you to death somewhere else now." Pavitr near-runs with you to the couch, you're still squealing and kicking the whole way down, not letting up through the solid five minutes of making out he spoils you with after, until he delicately cups your face and silences you for good with a press of lips so tender and sweet, you think you'd have felt it in a past life. ---- "Mmm, I'm gonna be thinking about that dessert on my deathbed," you muse as you enter his apartment. You've just arrived back from your dinner date with Pavitr, all dolled up in that green dress he'd picked out, complemented by the new pair of shoes he'd surprised you with before leaving. I'm Spider-Man, I'm observant, he'd said when you asked him about how he knew what shoe size you were, and then he'd fastened up the buckles before kissing the inside of your ankle, lips finding purchase on the bony point there. "Agreed, that was divine," he concurs. "I've never understood what people meant when they said 'better than sex'...until I learned you could grate cured egg yolk onto ice cream. I would kiss whoever came up with that on the mouth if they asked." You could think of a lot of things that were "better than sex", in your opinion. Maybe a sign that you need to raise your expectations, a tall order after the lackluster experiences you've had in the past. Not that you were going to debate that point with your boyfriend. "Seems like it's asking a lot to get a kiss on the mouth from you these days," you snark. Pavitr doesn't hesitate to angle your chin towards him, swallows up your mouth with his in a kiss that damn near sucks your soul out "Sonu, I truly hope you've learned by now, you never have to ask for that," he murmurs. The way he looks at you is sweet, like the chocolate hue of his irides. It never fails to make you want to melt, like the ice cream you'd enjoyed tonight. He kisses you again, and then once more, his lips taking the lead in a slow dance you're finally mastering. Pavitr starts to veer off the choreography and moves to kiss at the corner of your mouth instead. "You keep calling me that one, sonu," you wonder aloud. "I hope it's a good thing." "It's Marathi for 'gold', or 'precious'," he clarifies, his warm breath tickling your cheek. "So yes, a very good thing for a very sweet girl." "Hmm, and what about—oh!" you yelp delightfully as your boyfriend mouths on your jawline, you can tell he's relishing in the sound. "About that other one, the one I can't remember." "Ahava?" he supplies, the word spilling perfectly from his lips in a way that makes your heart flutter. "Yes, that's the one," you confirm. You don't miss the subtle pause, the falter of his breath. "Mmm, I'll tell you later," Pavitr says. He immediately distracts you with a light nip on your earlobe, smears a kiss on the skin he finds just below. "Stop—ah! Stop avoiding the question!" you protest, your heart floating up to your throat as the sweet torture your boyfriend administers to you sends your heart racing. "Not avoiding it, darling, just want to kiss you a little," he dismisses, trailing down your neck, now. "We gotta crack open that Malbec I've been saving too." "Well, will you tell me after?" you ask impatiently. Pavitr grins into the skin of your neck, lathes it delicately with the blade of his tongue in a way that makes everything muzzy and warm. "Sure I will," he half-answers. "Just let me enjoy this a bit longer." "Incorrigible," you mutter under your breath. Pavitr chuffs at that, starts dotting kisses up and down your neck so ticklish you can't help but squirm in his hold. Kissing's nice with him, both playful and comforting. He could thrill you with a kiss on the forehead, shut your unquiet mind off with a press of his mouth to yours. It's almost as if he uses his lips to pour out the overflowing fondness he's got into your very soul, trying to fill the void spots others have left behind with his brand of syrupy-sweet heartsong. A potent sap to glue the seams of old claw marks together, you drink it down greedily. The little attentions he's gracing you with are sensual, yes, but you know by now that Pavitr never asks a question he doesn't know the answer to. Kissing's nice, yes, but you're meant to enjoy it here and now, as an answer and not a question, the tiny dots his soft lips make on your neck are punctuation, not ellipses. Here and now is disrupted by the gentle tug, an itch in Pavitr's countenance. You recognize it now as the way Spider-Man knows, knows to follow, to to find, to protect, save. The pulling of a thread between your souls one night that led to this moment, cocooned in each other's embrace. It pulls on him now, thick eyebrows knitting together, laugh lines deepening at the crease of his mouth. "Pav, you should go," you assure, your hands gently flattening against his shoulders. Pavitr sighs, reluctance souring his expression. "Sonu, I don't want to interrupt the date," he protests. "You had your suit on when I kissed you, I was well aware of what I was doing," you assure, trying to show on your face that you're not unhappy. "Go get 'em, and we can continue this over a bottle of wine when you get back." Pavitr considers this, before planting a fond, grateful kiss upon the apple of one cheek. He scurries to climb into his suit, his second skin. Before you know it, one foot is out the kitchen window, and he turns to you on his way out, and says: "One for the road?" You roll your eyes, call him 'insatiable', peel up his mask to kiss him once, slow and sweet. You pat his cheek fondly, and he holds your hand there with his for a beat, savoring the feel. "If you die, I will google what that word-" Pavitr stops you, two gloved fingers against your lips. "Don't finish that sentence, darling," he smoothly replies. He slips you a wink, and you kiss the fingers against your lips before he melts into the evening sky. You watch him go, roll down the window when he's out of your sight. Alone in the low light of your boyfriend's apartment, you resolve to tidy up a bit, knowing he can be short on time for that. You clear up a few stray dishes he's got in the sink, pull that wine bottle he was after down from his wine rack (you wish you could afford to have a wine rack). You get the idea to start lighting a few candles to set the mood to unwind, you're rooting around in a drawer for a lighter when you hear the window roll up again, no more than fifteen minutes after your boyfriend had left. "(You), the dishrag in the drawer. Quickly," he orders, uncharacteristic worry in his voice. Unsettled, you locate the item in question swiftly, passing it over to his outstretched hand, surprised to hear high-pitched murmurs coming from his lips. "Pav, are you okay?" you inquire. In the back of your mind, you know his healing factor will do most of the work, but you have yet to see him actually hurt since you started dating him. "I'm fine, it's not for me," he hurriedly explains, climbing carefully through the windowframe. Your confusion peaks when he tucks the dishrag into the crook of his other arm, which suddenly emits a keening cry. "What on earth is that noise?" you ask, bewildered. "Oh, little love, shhhh, shh, shh, don't cry, don't cry," Pavitr coos at the source of the sound. You watch spellbound as he retrieves the bundle from the crook of his arm, delicately unfolding it to reveal a tiny, squalling kitten, its fur dirty and wet. It's but a button high, no more than 4 weeks old, and it looks famished. Pavitr gives it a scritch between the ears with one finger, the little ball of fur obviously appreciative given the way it arches into the touch. "You were all alone in that alley, bitty fidget, no mom cat to keep you from falling into that storm drain," he croons to the kitten, half comforting it, and half explaining the situation to you. "But I heard you calling, and I found you, and you're okay now, little love, you are okay, shhhh," he soothes. "The poor thing, it must be freezing," you respond, overwhelmed by how adorable this all is (both the kitten, and also your big, strong superhero boyfriend cuddling the tiny kitten). It's total cuteness overload, save for the fact that this kitten is clearly in bad shape. "Here, hold it for a minute—I know, fidget, I know—I have to get out of my suit," Pavitr directs, passing you the swaddled, wailing kitten. "There's a love, let her hold you, there you go," You accept the bundled ball of fur, it squirms weakly in your hold. You hear beneath the strong cries a wet, warbling quality, worrying you that the kitten might be sick. "Come on, kitty, come on," you encourage, giving the kitten a vigorous rub between your toweled hands to keep it warm. The kitten responds with a sneeze. Pavitr ducks back into the room, stripped down to a simple tee and sweats. He starts up the kitchen sink, checks the temperature on the inside of his wrist before beckoning you closer. "We have to get it cleaned up, it won't last long in that state if we don't get it warm and dry again," he urges. You hold the kitten in your cupped hands while he gently works a smidgen of dish soap through the kitten's soft fur, cooing to it as the dirt and grime lifts away, running through your fingers. "What a good fidget you are, yes!" he praises in response to the kitten's annoyed chirps. "Doing so good for us, little love, and look at that, what pretty golden fur you have under all that grime!" You're almost jealous of this tiny scrap of a thing, how much your boyfriend loves on it. He's right though, the water starts running clear, revealing a thick coat the color of a late dawn. You hold it still in the towel as Pavitr carefully cleans up its face with a damp cloth, freeing the kitten to open up dusky blue eyes, the color of a kitten too young to be without its mother. You borrow his blow dryer to dry the kitten off so it won't get sick, the fur fluffing up nicely under the heat. It's a pom-pom of dense goldenrod fluff by the time you're through with it, taking wobbly steps across the towel. "Do you think it's a male or a female?" you ask. "Beats me," Pavitr admits. "I don't know how to tell if it's healthy or if it needs milk or anything either." An idea comes to mind, you whip out your phone and start furiously googling. "Are you...googling how to tell the sex of the kitten?" he asks. "No, I'm looking for an emergency vet that's still open," you answer, face still buried in your phone's screen. "I mean, it fell down a drain, we should make sure it's not really sick or hurt or..." "That's...a good point. I'll grab the car keys, you grab a box to put the munchkin in," he concedes. ---- "A little boy, huh," Pavitr murmurs, the kitten in question mewling loudly from the carrier he's been placed in at the vet's office. The kitten received a mostly clean bill of health, but was given some medicine to help with the wet sounds coming from his chest. The poor thing has been through the wringer, loaded up on flea prevention, vaccines, a nail trim, he's scared and he wants his mother. "Yeah, a brave little boy." you remark, releasing him into the produce box you'd hastily grabbed from your apartment to serve as an impromptu playpen. Tomorrow, you'd have to find something better, but for now, you're sitting cross legged on the living room floor, watching the fluff ball with rapt attention. Pavitr gives you an appreciative once-over, you're still in the dress you went to dinner with him in, covered now by one of his heavier coats. "I'm sorry I ruined our date," he apologizes. "What...no, you didn't ruin anything," you refuse. "If anything, this was a pretty damn good way to end the evening, unexpected but still good." "Ah, but I was gonna pour you some wine, rizz you up, put on a movie so we could cuddle and make out on the couch—" he elucidates. "Let me stop you right there," you cut him off. "First of all, it is current year, there is no fucking way we are still saying 'rizz'". "Oh, come on," Pavitr whines. "Let me finish," you hold up your hand. "Secondly, yes, that would have been a great way to end the date. But so was getting to experience this with you, it's...it's nice getting to save a kitten's life together. I'm happy because it was with you, Pav. I don't care what it is we're doing, I'm just happy I got to share it with you. I wanna share all the things with you, someday." Pav's smile is relieved, impossibly fond. The kitten mewls in the background, clambering around on the blankets lining the box. There's words he wants to spit out, you can tell, but he swallows them back down. "Thank you, dove, I...hey, we should name him," he says. "You're keeping him?" you ask, surprised that he's up for this kind of responsibility with his...busy schedule. "Yeah," he breathes. "Yeah, I wanna keep him. There's gotta be a reason I was able to hear him, maybe this was it." "The cat distribution system's timing is always right," you chuckle. "The other reason I wanna keep him is because I found him with you," he states. You don't know how you should respond to that. But the sentiment is bubbly, full in your chest, like the tiny bubbles of the Prosecco you had over dinner. "I'm glad," you say. "I'm happy I could do this with you, and I hope that extends to helping you pick a name." "Oh it does, sonu," he replies. "I'm coming up with blanks right now, maybe you could help me think of something?" The kitten is screeching now, his squalling mighty, demanding your attention. His golden fur is puffed up around his chest, he'd be threatening if he weren't a little wisp of a thing. "He kinda reminds me of a lion," you ponder aloud. "Like that scene in The Lion King where baby Simba was trying to scare off the hyenas by trying to roar at them." "Sheru, then," Pavitr proclaims, gathering the kitten up in his arms. His voice wraps around the word in a way you know he wants to keep saying it. "Sheru?" you ask. "It's Hindi for lion," he explains, lifting the aforementioned kitten up to give him a kiss on his pink nose. "I thought you spoke Marathi, though," you wonder, confused. "Mmm, I can speak both," he extrapolates. "Marathi's my mother tongue, but I've learned Hindi as well, a little bit of some others too." Sheru nuzzles into his cheek. "Well I like it, it's a wonderful name," you affirm. "You're good at coming up with names for things...like me." "I wouldn't disagree with that assessment, darling," he quips with a sly wink that makes your heart skip a beat. "Hey, you should get to hold him too, you did half the work." "I thought you'd never ask," you say. Pavitr passes you the kitten, who settles into the curve of your hands. "Oh, hello, cutiepie!" you gush. "Welcome home, Sheru!" Pavitr watches you, besotted as you play with Sheru, how joyful you look nuzzling against the tiny ball of fur. You look so peaceful, the most peaceful you've been since he's met you, and it fills his heart complete in a way it hasn't felt in years. He knows now that he has to tell you. The word lodged in his throat comes floating, floating up, before it passes through his lips like a prayer. "Beloved," he says, simply. You freeze, putting Sheru in your lap as you turn to face him where he sits next to you. "In Marathi, Ahava means beloved," he tells you. The bubbles in your chest fizzle, pop, explode inside of you, almost choking you out as you process the implication. It feels unreal, your life feels unreal, but you know it's real because the way he's looking at you with the little kitten writhing in your lap wearing his coat and the dress he bought you is bright "Y-You mean...you really...?" you stutter, the first tears beginning to prickle. "Yes, I do," he breathes, the statement sure, steady. His own eyes, full of affection, full of want, full of love are misting over now. "Oh Pav, I—I love you too, I have for a while now," you admit, your voice warbling. "You've been calling me that since..." bright "Since you asked to be my girlfriend, yes," he reveals. "I always meant it, I told you that I've always been a bit of a softie," the tear tracks run down his full cheeks. You tearfully smile, knowing that it's been a couple months since that night. For all this time, he's been waiting for you, never asking you a question he couldn't answer. He's said the words a thousand times, but never making you listen before you were ready. "Pav, can I—" "A thousand times yes, Ahava," he exhales, gathers you up into his lap, furiously kisses your tears away where they stream on your face, pours his affection, his heart into yours from where it spills out of his lips. I love you I love you I love love love you I do I do I love you I do I love you my love my girl my perfect precious sweet girl my darling little love I love you— bright

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